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 rolling or pitching; no sails for the wind to carry away; no boilers to burst; no fire to fear, since the fittings are all iron; no coal to exhaust, because electricity is the motive power; no collisions need be feared, because we can traverse the very deeps of the ocean; no storm to brave, because at a few yards beneath the surface all is still, So there, Monsieur, there is the ship par excellence. And if it be true that the engineer has more confidence in the ship than the builder, and the builder more than the captain himself, you can understand how proud I am of my Nautilus, since I am constructor, engineer, and captain in my own person.”

He spoke with a persuasive eloquence. The flashing eye, the passionate gesture, seemed to change him completely. Truly he loved his ship as a parent his child!

But another, perhaps an indiscreet question, naturally presented itself, and I risked it.

“You are an engineer, then, Captain Nemo?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I studied in London, Paris, and New York.”

“But how could you secretly construct such a vessel as the Nautilus?”

“Each part, M. Aronnax, reached me from a different part of the world, and under a false name. The keel was forged at Creusot; the screw-shaft by Penn & Co., London. The iron plates were made by Laird, of Liverpool; the screw was by Scott, of Glasgow. The reservoirs were constructed by Cail & Co., in Paris; the engine by Krupp, in Prussia; the “spur,” in the workshop of Motala, in Sweden; the instruments at Hart Brothers’, New York; and each manufacturer received my plans under a different name.”