The warship continued to fire at us. Cannonballs fell into the sea around us, but none of them touched the Nautilus. If any of them hit the submarine, we would be in serious trouble, yet Captain Nemo did not appear on the platform.
"Professor, we must do everything we can to get out of this situation," said Ned.
Conseil nodded in agreement.
"Let's try to signal the warship," said Ned. "Perhaps then they'll understand that we're good people, not connected to Captain Nemo."
Ned pulled out his handkerchief to wave in the air. But he had scarcely revealed it when he was struck by a fist and fell to the deck.
"Fool! What do you think you're doing?" bellowed Captain Nemo, whose arrival had gone unnoticed.
The captain's face was purple with rage as he roared at Ned and shook the harpooner by the shoulders. Then he abandoned Ned and turned to face the warship, which was still raining cannonballs onto the sea around the Nautilus.
"So, ship of a cursed nation, you know who I am!" said Captain Nemo in a powerful voice. "I don't need to see your flag to know who you are, but I'll show you mine!"
The captain held up a black flag similar to the one he had placed at the South Pole. At that moment a cannonball struck the Nautilus without damaging it and bounced into the sea. The captain seemed unfazed.
"Go below!" he said to me. "You and your companions, go below now!"
"Captain, are you going to attack that vessel?" I asked.
"Professor, I'm going to sink it."
"You wouldn't do that!" I said in horror.
"I will," he said coldly, "and I advise you not to judge me. Fate has shown you what you ought not to have seen. The attack has begun."
"What is this vessel that attacks us? What country does it represent?"
"It's better if you don't know. I say to you once more: Go below."
There was nothing for us to do but obey. About fifteen crew members surrounded the captain, all looking with hatred at the approaching vessel. The same desire for vengeance seemed to fill every soul. I was leaving the platform at the moment another projectile struck the Nautilus, and I heard the captain shouting, "Strike, mad vessel! Shower us with your useless cannonballs. You'll never escape the battering ram of the Nautilus, but you won't perish here. I won't have your wreckage mingling with that of the sacred Avenger!"
I returned to the gallery, where I could see by the instruments that we were speeding up. The Nautilus was soon beyond range of the warship's guns.
Around four in the afternoon, I returned to the platform. The captain was pacing while looking at the ship, now five or six miles away. He allowed it to pursue us, but he did not attack. Perhaps if I said something, I could put a stop to this terrible episode before it began.
"Captain—" I said.
"Silence!" he roared. "I am the law and I am the judge! I am the oppressed and on that ship is the oppressor! Thanks to him, I have lost all that I loved, cherished, and respected—country, wife, children, father, and mother. I saw all of them perish! All that I hate is there! I have nothing to discuss with you, Professor Aronnax."
I cast a last look at the warship, which was steaming toward us, and joined Ned and Conseil in the gallery.
"We must flee this submarine!" I exclaimed. "I don't know where that warship is from, but it will be sunk before night. In any case, it's better for us to perish with it than to be part of a revenge that we don't fully understand."
"I agree," said Ned. "The moon should be almost full tonight. We can escape when the ship is near enough to hear us or see us."
Night arrived and the Nautilus remained on the surface. Several times I thought the submarine was preparing to attack. But instead Captain Nemo continued to allow his enemy to approach before darting ahead of it. The three of us waited for our opportunity to take action. We hardly spoke at all because we were too nervous. Several times Ned wanted to throw himself into the water, but I forced him to wait.
At three o'clock in the morning, full of uneasiness, I mounted the platform. Captain Nemo was standing near his flag, which was blowing in the wind. His eyes never left the warship. The intensity of his look seemed to draw it toward us more surely than if we had been towing it. The moon was overhead, and Jupiter was rising in the east. The sky and the sea rivaled each other in tranquility while passions boiled aboard the Nautilus.
I remained on the platform until six o'clock without Captain Nemo speaking to me. The warship lay about a mile and a half from us, and it began firing again with the first light of day. The moment was approaching when the Nautilus would attack its enemy, and my companions and I would leave Captain Nemo forever. The lieutenant came up on the platform, accompanied by several crewmen, who began to prepare for battle. The railing around the platform was removed; the pilothouse and electric light were lowered until they were level with the surface of the submarine.
I returned to my companions in the gallery. The Nautilus was slowing down, and I knew that Captain Nemo was allowing the warship to draw near. Now I could hear the sound of cannon fire more distinctly.
"My friends, the hour for battle has arrived," I announced.
Ned was determined, Conseil calm, myself so nervous that I didn't know what to do. We went into the library; from here all we had to do was pass through a door, climb the stairs to the platform, and make our escape. But the moment I opened the door, I heard the hatch above us slam shut. As Ned rushed onto the stairs, I stopped him. A familiar hissing told me that the reservoirs were filling and the submarine was descending.
I understood the maneuver. Captain Nemo wanted to strike the warship from underwater, where the bottom of the ship lacked protective plating and was most vulnerable. We scarcely had time to think, but took refuge in my cabin. I waited and listened intently; all my senses concentrated in my hearing. The Nautilus accelerated, and I knew it was preparing to attack the ship with the battering ram on its bow. The whole submarine trembled as it hit the warship. I screamed!
Unable to stand it any longer, I ran to the gallery. Captain Nemo was standing before one of the windows, watching the warship sink. I could not bear to look. When it was all over, he returned to his cabin. Through the open door, I saw a portrait of a young woman, undoubtedly his wife, and his two children. Captain Nemo gazed at them, stretched out his arms, and kneeling down, burst into sobs.