Page:Twenty Thousand Verne Frith 1876.pdf/132

 two cages of medium height, with sloping sides, and partly closed by thick lenticular glasses. One of these cages was for the steersman, the other contained the electric light which lighted up the ship’s course.

The sea was lovely, the sky clear. The long vessel scarcely rose to the lazy undulations of the ocean. A light breeze from the east ruffled the surface. The horizon was perfectly clear for observations. There was nothing in sight—not a rock, not an island. No more of the Abraham Lincoln!

Captain Nemo, furnished with his sextant, took the sun’s altitude, which was to give him his latitude. For some minutes he waited till the level of the horizon was fixed. While he made his observations, not a muscle moved, and the instrument was as motionless as in a hand of marble.

“Now, professor,” he said. “Now, if you are ready—”

I threw a last glance over the sea, and descended to the large saloon.

There the captain was making his longitude by chronometers altered in accordance with horal angles of his observations. Then he said: “We are 137° 5′ west longitude.”

“Of what meridian?” I asked, hoping from his reply to discover his nationality.

“Monsieur,” said he, “I have chronometers regulated for the meridians of Paris, Greenwich, and Washington. But in your honour, I will use the Paris meridian.”

I gained nothing from this reply. I bowed; he continued: