which, by their impermeable and resisting texture, allowed
divers to survey the bottom of the sea. He likewise embarked on board
the Susquehanna apparatuses for compressed air, very ingeniously
contrived. They were veritable rooms, with port-lights in them, and
which, by introducing the water into certain compartments, could be sunk
to great depths. These apparatuses were already at San Francisco, where
they had been used in the construction of a submarine dyke. This was
fortunate, for there would not have been time to make them.

Yet notwithstanding the perfection of the apparatus, notwithstanding the
ingenuity of the _savants_ who were to use them, the success of the
operation was anything but assured. Fishing up a bullet from 20,000 feet
under water must be an uncertain operation. And even if the bullet
should again be brought to the surface, how had the travellers borne the
terrible shock that even 20,000 feet of water would not sufficiently
deaden?

In short, everything must be done quickly. J.T. Maston hurried on his
workmen day and night. He was ready either to buckle on the diver's
dress or to try the air-apparatus in order to find his courageous
friends.

Still, notwithstanding the diligence with which the different machines
were got ready, notwithstanding the considerable sums which were placed
at the disposition of the Gun Club by the Government of the Union, five
long days (five centuries) went by before the preparations were
completed. During that time public opinion was excited to the highest
point. Telegrams were incessantly exchanged all over the world through
the electric wires and cables. The saving of Barbicane, Nicholl, and
Michel Ardan became an international business. All the nations that had
subscribed to the enterprise of the Gun Club were equally interested in
the safety of the travellers.

At last the grappling-chains, air-chambers, and automatic
grappling-irons were embarked on board the Susquehanna. J.T. Maston, the
engineer Murchison, and the Gun Club delegates already occupied their
cabins. There was nothing to do but to start.

On the 21st of December, at 8 p.m., the corvette set sail on a calm sea
with a rather cold north-east wind blowing. All the population of San
Francisco crowded on to the quays, mute and anxious, reserving its
hurrahs for the return.

The steam was put on to its maximum of tension, and the screw of the
Susquehanna carried it rapidly out of the bay.

It would