The Mediterranean Sea is bordered by orange trees and rugged mountains. The air is pure and perfumed with the scent of myrtle. But Captain Nemo was in a hurry, so I experienced none of the Mediterranean's enchantments. Starting from the shores of Greece on the morning of February 16, we traveled at full speed and reached the Atlantic Ocean 48 hours later.
It was obvious to me that Captain Nemo wanted to avoid the countries surrounding the Mediterranean. The breeze probably brought back too many memories, and perhaps too many regrets. We were traveling so quickly that Ned had to give up any hope of escape. It would have been impossible to launch the small boat when we were traveling thirty-five to forty feet per second. He might as well have jumped off a train going at full speed. I followed our route on the gallery map and calculated that we had traveled ten thousand leagues in three and a half months.
Later in the morning of February 18, the Nautilus rose to the surface, so we could take our daily walk upon the platform. I went up at once, accompanied by Ned and Conseil. But the Atlantic Ocean was so rough that the submarine rocked violently with every wave that crashed over it. We soon decided to go below. Conseil returned to his cabin while Ned followed me to mine. When my door was shut, he sat down and looked at me silently.
"Ned, my friend," I said, "I know how disappointed you must be that we couldn't escape while in the Mediterranean."
The harpooner did not respond, yet the crease in his brow and the expression on his face showed me that he was thinking hard.
"I don't think we should give up yet," I continued. "We're going up the coast of Portugal. France and England are not far away, and we can easily find refuge in one of those countries. Now if the Nautilus were traveling south, I'd share your uneasiness, but I think you'll be able to act in a few days."
Ned stared at me for a few more moments before he spoke. "We're leaving tonight."
I was so startled by this statement that words failed me.
"We agreed to wait for an opportunity," Ned went on, "and that opportunity has arrived. Tonight we'll be only a few miles from the Spanish coast. It's cloudy and windy—good conditions for an escape."
As I was still silent, Ned stood up and faced me.
"We leave tonight at nine o'clock," he said. "I've already told Conseil to be ready. At that time Captain Nemo will be in his room, probably asleep. Conseil and I will go up the central staircase, and you'll remain nearby in the library, awaiting my signal. The oars, mast, and sail are already in the small boat, and I've even gotten us some provisions. So everything is ready."
"But the sea is so rough," I said, finally finding my voice.
"I agree, but we have a sturdy boat and we'll be traveling only a few miles. Who knows where the Nautilus will be tomorrow? We could be hundreds of leagues away, so we have to take this chance tonight. I will see you later, at nine o'clock."
With these words Ned departed, leaving me feeling numb. I had always imagined that when the time came to escape, there would be an opportunity to discuss it. But Ned had given me no time to think, never mind talk, over the matter. I knew he was right; this was a good opportunity to escape. But it was still hard to believe that the moment had arrived.
At that point I heard the sounds that meant the submarine was sinking under the waves. I passed the rest of the day torn between the thrill of freedom and the sadness of abandoning my underwater studies. Sometimes I hoped our escape would succeed, and other times I wished something would happen to prevent us from leaving the submarine. Twice I went to the gallery to check if we had changed our course. But no. The Nautilus was still cruising up the coast of Portugal. This day of waiting seemed to last forever.
My supper was served in my room as usual, but I could eat little. At seven o'clock, there were still 120 minutes left. I couldn't sit quietly anymore so I went to see the gallery for the last time. I spent a long while admiring its treasures, and I wished the panels were open so I could gaze underwater one more time. A clock struck eight, startling me. I returned to my room and dressed warmly. I wasn't taking anything with me besides my notes.
At a few minutes before nine, I pressed my ear to the door that linked my cabin and the captain's. Silence. I returned to the gallery and then went to the library. I stood at the door leading to the central staircase and awaited Ned's signal. Suddenly I heard the submarine's propeller slow down and stop. The only sound came from my heart beating loudly. I felt a slight shock and knew that the Nautilus had stopped on the sea bottom. Something was not right and there was no signal from Ned.
"There you are!" Captain Nemo entered the library from the gallery. He was smiling broadly. "I've been looking all over for you, Professor. Do you know the history of Spain?"
"What?" I was still startled by the captain's arrival in the midst of my escape.
"I asked if you knew the history of Spain." Captain Nemo went on to describe a famous sea battle where Spanish ships, loaded with silver and gold, were sunk in 1702. "We're right at the shipwreck site. If you come with me, you'll likely be very interested in what I have to show you."
By this point, I'd recovered my composure, so I followed him into the gallery, where the panels were now open. I looked out and saw a shipwreck. Members of the submarine's crew were carrying silver and gold bars as well as precious jewels back to the Nautilus.
"This treasure, as well as other shipwrecks that I've marked on a map, are the source of my great wealth," Captain Nemo explained.
"But doesn't this all belong to someone?" I asked. "The Spanish government? And even if it doesn't, aren't there poor people who could benefit from all these riches?"
As soon as I spoke, I saw that I had wounded the captain.
"Do you think I collect these treasures for myself?" asked Captain Nemo. "Do you think I'm ignorant of all the suffering people on this earth, miserable creatures who should be consoled, victims who should be avenged?"
And then I understood for whom those gold bars in the Grecian islands were destined. My ruined escape plans seemed like such a small problem compared to the misery of those people who needed the captain's philanthropy.