eft side, from which escaped a ray of
light through a thick glass.

Harding and his companions mounted on the platform. An open hatchway
was there. All darted down the opening.

At the bottom of the ladder was a deck, lighted by electricity. At the
end of this deck was a door, which Harding opened.

A richly-ornamented room, quickly traversed by the colonists, was joined
to a library, over which a luminous ceiling shed a flood of light.

At the end of the library a large door, also shut, was opened by the
engineer.

An immense saloon--a sort of museum, in which were heaped up, with all
the treasures of the mineral world, works of art, marvels of industry--
appeared before the eyes of the colonists, who almost thought themselves
suddenly transported into a land of enchantment.

Stretched on a rich sofa they saw a man, who did not appear to notice
their presence.

Then Harding raised his voice, and to the extreme surprise of his
companions, he uttered these words--

"Captain Nemo, you asked for us! We are here."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

CAPTAIN NEMO--HIS FIRST WORDS--THE HISTORY OF THE RECLUSE--HIS
ADVENTURES--HIS SENTIMENTS--HIS COMRADES--SUBMARINE LIFE--ALONE--THE
LAST REFUGE OF THE NAUTILUS IN LINCOLN ISLAND--THE MYSTERIOUS GENIUS OF
THE ISLAND.

At these words the reclining figure rose, and the electric light fell
upon his countenance; a magnificent head, the forehead high, the glance
commanding, beard white, hair abundant and falling over the shoulders.

His hand rested upon the cushion of the divan from which he had just
risen. He appeared perfectly calm. It was evident that his strength
had been gradually undermined by illness, but his voice seemed yet
powerful, as he said in English, and in a tone which evinced extreme
surprise--

"Sir, I have no name."

"Nevertheless, I know you!" replied Cyrus Harding.

Captain Nemo fixed his penetrating gaze upon the engineer as though he
were about to annihilate him.

Then, falling back amid the pillows of the divan--

"After all, what matters now?" he murmured; "I am dying!"

Cyrus Harding drew near the captain, and Gideon Spilett took his hand--
it was of a feverish heat. Ayrton, Pencroft, Herbert, and Neb, stood
respectfully apart in an angle of the magnificent saloon, whose
atmosphere was saturated with the electric fluid.

Meanwhile Captain Nemo withdrew his hand, and motioned the engineer and
the reporter to be seated.

All regarded him wi