t, I could give no opinion, neither could I tell to
what kingdom they belonged, whether animal or vegetable. As to the
dinner-service, it was elegant, and in perfect taste. Each
utensil--spoon, fork, knife, plate--had a letter engraved on it, with a
motto above it, of which this is an exact facsimile:

MOBILIS IN MOBILI N

The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the enigmatical
person who commanded at the bottom of the seas.

Ned and Conseil did not reflect much. They devoured the food, and I
did likewise. I was, besides, reassured as to our fate; and it seemed
evident that our hosts would not let us die of want.

However, everything has an end, everything passes away, even the hunger
of people who have not eaten for fifteen hours. Our appetites
satisfied, we felt overcome with sleep.

"Faith! I shall sleep well," said Conseil.

"So shall I," replied Ned Land.

My two companions stretched themselves on the cabin carpet, and were
soon sound asleep. For my own part, too many thoughts crowded my
brain, too many insoluble questions pressed upon me, too many fancies
kept my eyes half open. Where were we? What strange power carried us
on? I felt--or rather fancied I felt--the machine sinking down to the
lowest beds of the sea. Dreadful nightmares beset me; I saw in these
mysterious asylums a world of unknown animals, amongst which this
submarine boat seemed to be of the same kind, living, moving, and
formidable as they. Then my brain grew calmer, my imagination wandered
into vague unconsciousness, and I soon fell into a deep sleep.

CHAPTER IX

NED LAND'S TEMPERS

How long we slept I do not know; but our sleep must have lasted long,
for it rested us completely from our fatigues. I woke first. My
companions had not moved, and were still stretched in their corner.

Hardly roused from my somewhat hard couch, I felt my brain freed, my
mind clear. I then began an attentive examination of our cell.
Nothing was changed inside. The prison was still a prison--the
prisoners, prisoners. However, the steward, during our sleep, had
cleared the table. I breathed with difficulty. The heavy air seemed
to oppress my lungs. Although the cell was large, we had evidently
consumed a great part of the oxygen that it contained. Indeed, each
man consumes, in one hour, the oxygen contained in more than 176 pints
of air, and this air, charged (as then) with a nearly equal quantity of
carbonic acid,