Part One.: Chapter 9: Ned Land's Tempers

by Jules Verne

　　How long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must have lasted long,for it rested us completely from our fatigues. I woke first.My companions had not moved, and were still stretched in their corner.

　　Hardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my brain freed,my mind clear. I then began an attentive examination of our cell.Nothing was changed inside. The prison was still a prison--the prisoners, prisoners. However, the steward, during our sleep,had cleared the table. I breathed with difficulty. The heavy airseemed to oppress my lungs. Although the cell was large, we hadevidently consumed a great part of the oxygen that it contained.Indeed, each man consumes, in one hour, the oxygen contained in morethan 176 pints of air, and this air, charged (as then) with a nearlyequal quantity of carbonic acid, becomes unbreathable.

　　It became necessary to renew the atmosphere of our prison, and no doubtthe whole in the submarine boat. That gave rise to a question in my mind.How would the commander of this floating dwelling-place proceed?Would he obtain air by chemical means, in getting by heat the oxygen containedin chlorate of potash, and in absorbing carbonic acid by caustic potash?Or--a more convenient, economical, and consequently more probable alternative--would he be satisfied to rise and take breath at the surface of the water,like a whale, and so renew for twenty-four hours the atmospheric provision?

　　In fact, I was already obliged to increase my respirations to ekeout of this cell the little oxygen it contained, when suddenly I wasrefreshed by a current of pure air, and perfumed with saline emanations.It was an invigorating sea breeze, charged with iodine. I opened mymouth wide, and my lungs saturated themselves with fresh particles.

　　At the same time I felt the boat rolling. The iron-plated monsterhad evidently just risen to the surface of the ocean to breathe,after the fashion of whales. I found out from that the modeof ventilating the boat.

　　When I had inhaled this air freely, I sought the conduit pipe,which conveyed to us the beneficial whiff, and I was not long in finding it.Above the door was a ventilator, through which volumes of fresh airrenewed the impoverished atmosphere of the cell.

　　I was making my observations, when Ned and Conseil awoke almostat the same time, under the influence of this reviving air.They rubbed their eyes, stretched themselves, and were on their feetin an instant.

　　"Did master sleep well?" asked Conseil, with his usual politeness.

　　"Very well, my brave boy. And you, Mr. Land?"

　　"Soundly, Professor. But, I don't know if I am right or not,there seems to be a sea breeze!"

　　A seaman could not be mistaken, and I told the Canadian all that had passedduring his sleep.

　　"Good!" said he. "That accounts for those roarings we heard,when the supposed narwhal sighted the Abraham Lincoln."

　　"Quite so, Master Land; it was taking breath."

　　"Only, Mr. Aronnax, I have no idea what o'clock it is,unless it is dinner-time."

　　"Dinner-time! my good fellow? Say rather breakfast-time, for wecertainly have begun another day."

　　"So," said Conseil, "we have slept twenty-four hours?"

　　"That is my opinion."

　　"I will not contradict you," replied Ned Land. "But, dinner or breakfast,the steward will be welcome, whichever he brings."

　　"Master Land, we must conform to the rules on board, and I supposeour appetites are in advance of the dinner hour."

　　"That is just like you, friend Conseil," said Ned, impatiently."You are never out of temper, always calm; you would return thanksbefore grace, and die of hunger rather than complain!"

　　Time was getting on, and we were fearfully hungry; and thistime the steward did not appear. It was rather too longto leave us, if they really had good intentions towards us.Ned Land, tormented by the cravings of hunger, got stillmore angry; and, notwithstanding his promise, I dreaded anexplosion when he found himself with one of the crew.

　　For two hours more Ned Land's temper increased; he cried, he shouted,but in vain. The walls were deaf. There was no sound to be heardin the boat; all was still as death. It did not move, for I should havefelt the trembling motion of the hull under the influence of the screw.Plunged in the depths of the waters, it belonged no longer to earth:this silence was dreadful.

　　I felt terrified, Conseil was calm, Ned Land roared.

　　Just then a noise was heard outside. Steps sounded on the metal flags.The locks were turned, the door opened, and the steward appeared.

　　Before I could rush forward to stop him, the Canadian had thrown him down,and held him by the throat. The steward was choking under the gripof his powerful hand.

　　Conseil was already trying to unclasp the harpooner's hand fromhis half-suffocated victim, and I was going to fly to the rescue,when suddenly I was nailed to the spot by hearing these words in French:

　　"Be quiet, Master Land; and you, Professor, will you be so goodas to listen to me?"