Page:Twenty Thousand Verne Frith 1876.pdf/495

 “Captain!” I said. He did not reply, so I left him and mounted to the platform. Conseil and the Canadian had preceded me.

“What is the meaning of that sound?” I asked.

“It was a cannon-shot,” replied Ned Land.

I looked towards the ship I had seen before. It had approached the Nautilus, and was coming at high speed. It was six miles away.

“What ship is that, Ned?”

“Judging by her rigging and spars, I should say she is a man-o’-war. I hope she may come up with us, and, if possible, sink this damned Nautilus.”

“Friend Ned!” said Conseil. “What harm can she do the Nautilus? Can she attack us under water?”

“Tell me Ned,” I said, “can you see to what nation this vessel belongs?”

The Canadian frowned, lowered his eyelids, and gazed for some seconds at the vessel earnestly.

“No,” he replied, at length, “I do not know to what country she belongs. Her ensign is not at the peak; but I can swear she is a man-of-war, because of the pennant at the main.”

For a quarter of an hour we continued to gaze at the approaching ship. I could not quite believe that she could have distinguished the Nautilus at such a distance, still less have guessed that she was a submarine engine.

The Canadian soon informed me that the new-comer was a large man-o’-war, a two-decked, ironclad ram. A thick, black smoke escaped from her two funnels. Her sails were furled; she had no ensign. The distance prevented our distinguishing the colours of the pennant, which blew out like a long ribbon.