Doubtless Captain Nemo heard Smith’s words, for, raising himself up a little, and speaking in a feeble but intelligible voice, he said:—
“You are right. I wish to die here. And I have a request to make.”
Smith and his companions had gathered round the divan, and they arranged the cushions so that the dying man was more comfortably placed.
They saw that his gaze was fixed upon the marvels of the saloon, lit up by the rays of electric light sifting through the arabesques of the luminous ceiling. He looked upon the pictures, those chefs d’oeuvre of Italian, Flemish, French, and Spanish masters, which hung on the tapestried walls, upon the marbles and bronzes, upon the magnificent organ at the opposite end of the saloon, upon the glasses arranged around a central vase in which were disposed the rarest products of the seas, marine plants, zoophytes, chaplets of pearls of an inappreciable value, and at length his attention was fixed upon this device, the device of the Nautilus inscribed upon the front of this museum:—
Mobilis in Mobili.
It seemed as if he wished to caress with his regard, one last time, those chefs d’oeuvre of art and nature which had been ever visible to him in the years of his sojourn in the depths of the sea!
Smith respected Captain Nemo’s silence. He waited for him to speak.
After some moments, during which passed before him, doubtless, his whole life, Captain Nemo turned to the colonists and said:—
“You wish to do me a favor?”
“Captain, we would give our lives to prolong yours!”
“Well, then, promise me that you will execute my last wishes, and I will be repaid for all that I have done for you.”
“We promise,” answered Smith, speaking for his companions and himself.
“Tomorrow,” said the Captain, “tomorrow I will be dead.”
He made a sign to Herbert, who was about to protest.
“Tomorrow I will be dead, and I wish for no other tomb than the Nautilus. It is my coffin! All my friends rest at the bottom of the sea, and I wish to rest there also.”
A profound silence followed the words of Captain Nemo.
“Attend to what I say,” he continued. “The Nautilus is imprisoned in this grotto. But if she cannot leave this prison, she can at least sink herself in the abyss, which will cover her and guard my mortal remains.”
The colonists listened religiously to the words of the dying man.
“Tomorrow, after I am dead, Mr. Smith,” continued the Captain, “you and your companions will leave the Nautilus, all of whose riches are to disappear with me. One single remembrance of Prince Dakkar, whose history you now know, will remain to you. That coffer, there, encloses diamonds worth many millions, most of them souvenirs of the time when, a husband and father, I almost believed in happiness, and a collection of pearls gathered by my friends and myself from the bottom of the sea. With this treasure, you will be able, sometime, to accomplish good. In your hands and those of your companions, Mr. Smith, wealth will not be dangerous. I shall be ever present with you in your works.”
After some moments of rest, necessitated by his extreme feebleness, Captain Nemo continued as follows:—
“Tomorrow, you will take this coffer, you will leave this saloon, and close the door; then you will ascend to the platform of the Nautilus and you will bolt down the hatchway.”
“We will do it, sir,” replied Smith.
“Very well. You will then embark in the boat which brought you here. But, before abandoning the Nautilus, go to the stern, and there, open two large cocks which you will find at the waterline. The water will penetrate and the Nautilus will sink beneath the waves and rest upon the bottom of the abyss.”
Then, upon a gesture from Smith, the Captain added:—
“Fear nothing! you will only be burying the dead!”
Neither Smith nor his companions could say a word to Captain Nemo. These were his last wishes, and they had nothing else to do but obey them.
“I have your promise?” asked Captain Nemo.
“You have it, sir,” answered the engineer.
The Captain made a sign thanking them, and then motioned to be left alone for a few hours. Spilett insisted on remaining with him, in case of an emergency, but the other refused, saying:—
“I will live till morning, sir.”
All left the salon, passing through the library, the dining-room, and reached the forward part of the vessel, where the electric apparatus, furnishing heat, light, and motive power to the Nautilus was placed.
The Nautilus was a chef-d’oeuvre containing chefs-d’oeuvre, which filled the engineer with amazement.
The colonists mounted the platform, which rose seven or eight feet above the water. Then they saw a thick lenticular glass closing up a sort of bull’s-eye, through which penetrated a ray of light. Behind this bull’s-eye was the wheelhouse, where the steersman stood when directing the Nautilus under the sea, by means of the electric light.
Smith and his companions stood here in silence, impressed by what they saw, and what they had heard, and their hearts bled to think that he, their protector, whose arm had been so often raised to aid them, would soon be counted among the dead.
Whatever would be the judgment of posterity upon this, so to say, extra-human existence, Prince Dakkar would always remain one of those strange characters who cannot be forgotten.
“What a man!” said Pencroff. “Is it credible that he has lived so at the bottom of the ocean! And to think that he has not found rest even there!”
“The Nautilus,” observed Ayrton, “would, perhaps, have served us to leave Lincoln Island and gain some inhabited country.”
“A thousand devils!” cried Pencroff. “You couldn’t get me to steer such a craft. To sail over the seas is all very well, but
