Vigo Bay
:
PART TWO
The Atlantic! a vast sheet of water whose superficial area covers
twenty-five millions of square miles, the length of which is nine
thousand miles, with a mean breadth of two thousand seven hundred--an
ocean whose parallel winding shores embrace an immense circumference,
watered by the largest rivers of the world, the St. Lawrence, the
Mississippi, the Amazon, the Plata, the Orinoco, the Niger, the
Senegal, the Elbe, t
e Loire, and the Rhine, which carry water from the
most civilised, as well as from the most savage, countries!
Magnificent field of water, incessantly ploughed by vessels of every
nation, sheltered by the flags of every nation, and which terminates in
those two terrible points so dreaded by mariners, Cape Horn and the
Cape of Tempests.
The Nautilus was piercing the water with its sharp spur, after having
accomplished nearly ten thousand leagues in three months and a half, a
distance greater than the great circle of the earth. Where were we
going now, and what was reserved for the future? The Nautilus, leaving
the Straits of Gibraltar, had gone far out. It returned to the surface
of the waves, and our daily walks on the platform were restored to us.
I mounted at once, accompanied by Ned Land and Conseil. At a distance
of about twelve miles, Cape St. Vincent was dimly to be seen, forming
the south-western point of the Spanish peninsula. A strong southerly
gale was blowing. The sea was swollen and billowy; it made the
Nautilus rock violently. It was almost impossible to keep one's foot
on the platform, which the heavy rolls of the sea beat over every
instant. So we descended after inhaling some mouthfuls of fresh air.
I returned to my room, Conseil to his cabin; but the Canadian, with a
preoccupied air, followed me. Our rapid passage across the
Mediterranean had not allowed him to put his project into execution,
and he could not help showing his disappointment. When the door of my
room was shut, he sat down and looked at me silently.
"Friend Ned," said I, "I understand you; but you cannot reproach
yourself. To have attempted to leave the Nautilus under the
circumstances would have been folly."
Ned Land did not answer; his compressed lips and frowning brow showed
with him the violent possession this fixed idea had taken of his mind.
"Let us see," I continued; "we need not despair yet. We are going up
the coast of Portugal again; France and England are not far off, where
we can easily find refuge. Now if the Nautilus, on leaving the Straits
of Gibraltar, had gone to the south, if it had carried us towards
regions where there were no continents, I should share your uneasiness.
But we know now that Captain Nemo does not fly from civilised seas, and
in some days I think you can act with security."
Ned Land still looked at me fixedly; at length his fixed lips parted,
and he said, "It is for to-night."
I drew myself up suddenly. I was, I admit, little prepared for this
communication. I wanted to answer the Canadian, but words would not
come.
"We agreed to wait for an opportunity," continued Ned Land, "and the
opportunity has arrived. This night we shall be but a few miles from
the Spanish coast. It is cloudy. The wind blows freely. I have your
word, M. Aronnax, and I rely upon you."
As I was silent, the Canadian approached me.
"To-night, at nine o'clock," said he. "I have warned Conseil. At that
moment Captain Nemo will be shut up in his room, probably in bed.
Neither the engineers nor the ship's crew can see us. Conseil and I
will gain the central staircase, and you, M. Aronnax, will remain in
the library, two steps from us, waiting my signal. The oars, the mast,
and the sail are in the canoe. I have even succeeded in getting some
provisions. I have procured an English wrench, to unfasten the bolts
which attach it to the shell of the Nautilus. So all is ready, till
to-night."
"The sea is bad."
"That I allow," replied the Canadian; "but we must risk that. Liberty
is worth paying for; besides, the boat is strong, and a few miles with
a fair wind to carry us is no great thing. Who knows but by to-morrow
we may be a hundred leagues away? Let circumstances only favour us,
and by ten or eleven o'clock we shall have landed on some spot of terra
firma, alive or dead. But adieu now till to-night."
With these words the Canadian withdrew, leaving me almost dumb. I had
imagined that, the chance gone, I should have time to reflect and
discuss the matter. My obstinate companion had given me no time; and,
after all, what could I have said to him? Ned Land was perfectly
right. There was almost the opportunity to profit by. Could I retract
my word, and take upon myself the responsibility of compromising the
future of my companions? To-morrow Captain Nemo might take us far from
all land.
At that moment a rather loud hissing noise told me that the reservoirs
were filling, and that the Nautilus was sinking under the waves of the
Atlantic.
A sad day I passed, between the desire of regaining my liberty of
action and of abandoning the wonderful Nautilus, and leaving my
submarine studies incomplete.
What dreadful hours I passed thus! Sometimes seeing myself and
companions safely landed, sometimes wishing, in spite of my reason,
that some unforeseen circumstance, would prevent the realisation of Ned
Land's project.
Twice I went to the saloon. I wished to consult the compass. I wished
to see if the direction the Nautilus was taking was bringing us nearer
or taking us farther from the coast. But no; the Nautilus kept in
Portuguese waters.
I must therefore take my part and prepare for flight. My luggage was
not heavy; my notes, nothing more.
As to Captain Nemo, I asked myself what he would think of our escape;
what trouble, what wrong it might cause him and what he might do in
case of its discovery or failure. Certainly I had no cause to complain
of him; on the contrary, never was hospitality freer than his. In
leaving him I could not be taxed with ingratitude. No oath bound us to
him. It was on the strength of circumstances he relied, and not upon
our word, to fix us for ever.
I had not seen the Captain since our visit to the Island of Santorin.
Would chance bring me to his presence before our departure? I wished
it, and I feared it at the same time. I listened if I could hear him
walking the room contiguous to mine. No sound reached my ear. I felt
an unbearable uneasiness. This day of waiting seemed eternal. Hours
struck too slowly to keep pace with my impatience.
My dinner was served in my room as usual. I ate but little; I was too
preoccupied. I left the table at seven o'clock. A hundred and twenty
minutes (I counted them) still separated me from the moment in which I
was to join Ned Land. My agitation redoubled. My pulse beat
violently. I could not remain quiet. I went and came, hoping to calm
my troubled spirit by constant movement. The idea of failure in our
bold enterprise was the least painful of my anxieties; but the thought
of seeing our project discovered before leaving the Nautilus, of being
brought before Captain Nemo, irritated, or (what was worse) saddened,
at my desertion, made my heart beat.
I wanted to see the saloon for the last time. I descended the stairs
and arrived in the museum, where I had passed so many useful and
agreeable hours. I looked at all its riches, all its treasures, like a
man on the eve of an eternal exile, who was leaving never to return.
These wonders of Nature, these masterpieces of art, amongst which for
so many days my life had been concentrated, I was going to abandon them
for ever! I should like to have taken a last look through the windows
of the saloon into the waters of the Atlantic: but the panels were
hermetically closed, and a cloak of steel separated me from that ocean
which I had not yet explored.
In passing through the saloon, I came near the door let into the angle
which opened into the Captain's room. To my great surprise, this door
was ajar. I drew back involuntarily. If Captain Nemo should be in his
room, he could see me. But, hearing no sound, I drew nearer. The room
was deserted. I pushed open the door and took some steps forward.
Still the same monklike severity of aspect.
Suddenly the clock struck eight. The first beat of the hammer on the
bell awoke me from my dreams. I trembled as if an invisible eye had
plunged into my most secret thoughts, and I hurried from the room.
There my eye fell upon the compass. Our course was still north. The
log indicated moderate speed, the manometer a depth of about sixty feet.
I returned to my room, clothed myself warmly--sea boots, an otterskin
cap, a great coat of byssus, lined with sealskin; I was ready, I was
waiting. The vibration of the screw alone broke the deep silence which
reigned on board. I listened attentively. Would no loud voice
suddenly inform me that Ned Land had been surprised in his projected
flight. A mortal dread hung over me, and I vainly tried to regain my
accustomed coolness.
At a few minutes to nine, I put my ear to the Captain's door. No
noise. I left my room and returned to the saloon, which was half in
obscurity, but deserted.
I opened the door communicating with the library. The same
insufficient light, the same solitude. I placed myself near the door
leading to the central staircase, and there waited for Ned Land's
signal.
At that moment the trembling of the screw sensibly diminished, then it
stopped entirely. The silence was now only disturbed by the beatings
of my own heart. Suddenly a slight shock was felt; and I knew that the
Nautilus had stopped at the bottom of the ocean. My uneasiness
increased. The Canadian's signal did not come. I felt inclined to
join Ned Land and beg of him to put off his attempt. I felt that we
were not sailing under our usual conditions.
At this moment the door of the large saloon opened, and Captain Nemo
appeared. He saw me, and without further preamble began in an amiable
tone of voice:
"Ah, sir! I have been looking for you. Do you know the history of
Spain?"
Now, one might know the history of one's own country by heart; but in
the condition I was at the time, with troubled mind and head quite
lost, I could not have said a word of it.
"Well," continued Captain Nemo, "you heard my question! Do you know
the history of Spain?"
"Very slightly," I answered.
"Well, here are learned men having to learn," said the Captain. "Come,
sit down, and I will tell you a curious episode in this history. Sir,
listen well," said he; "this history will interest you on one side, for
it will answer a question which doubtless you have not been able to
solve."
"I listen, Captain," said I, not knowing what my interlocutor was
driving at, and asking myself if this incident was bearing on our
projected flight.
"Sir, if you have no objection, we will go back to 1702. You cannot be
ignorant that your king, Louis XIV, thinking that the gesture of a
potentate was sufficient to bring the Pyrenees under his yoke, had
imposed the Duke of Anjou, his grandson, on the Spaniards. This prince
reigned more or less badly under the name of Philip V, and had a strong
party against him abroad. Indeed, the preceding year, the royal houses
of Holland, Austria, and England had concluded a treaty of alliance at
the Hague, with the intention of plucking the crown of Spain from the
head of Philip V, and placing it on that of an archduke to whom they
prematurely gave the title of Charles III.
"Spain must resist this coalition; but she was almost entirely
unprovided with either soldiers or sailors. However, money would not
fail them, provided that their galleons, laden with gold and silver
from America, once entered their ports. And about the end of 1702 they
expected a rich convoy which France was escorting with a fleet of
twenty-three vessels, commanded by Admiral Chateau-Renaud, for the
ships of the coalition were already beating the Atlantic. This convoy
was to go to Cadiz, but the Admiral, hearing that an English fleet was
cruising in those waters, resolved to make for a French port.
"The Spanish commanders of the convoy objected to this decision. They
wanted to be taken to a Spanish port, and, if not to Cadiz, into Vigo
Bay, situated on the northwest coast of Spain, and which was not
blocked.
"Admiral Chateau-Renaud had the rashness to obey this injunction, and
the galleons entered Vigo Bay.
"Unfortunately, it formed an open road which could not be defended in
any way. They must therefore hasten to unload the galleons before the
arrival of the combined fleet; and time would not have failed them had
not a miserable question of rivalry suddenly arisen.
"You are following the chain of events?" asked Captain Nemo.
"Perfectly," said I, not knowing the end proposed by this historical
lesson.
"I will continue. This is what passed. The merchants of Cadiz had a
privilege by which they had the right of receiving all merchandise
coming from the West Indies. Now, to disembark these ingots at the
port of Vigo was depriving them of their rights. They complained at
Madrid, and obtained the consent of the weak-minded Philip that the
convoy, without discharging its cargo, should remain sequestered in the
roads of Vigo until the enemy had disappeared.
"But whilst coming to this decision, on the 22nd of October, 1702, the
English vessels arrived in Vigo Bay, when Admiral Chateau-Renaud, in
spite of inferior forces, fought bravely. But, seeing that the
treasure must fall into the enemy's hands, he burnt and scuttled every
galleon, which went to the bottom with their immense riches."
Captain Nemo stopped. I admit I could not see yet why this history
should interest me.
"Well?" I asked.
"Well, M. Aronnax," replied Captain Nemo, "we are in that Vigo Bay; and
it rests with yourself whether you will penetrate its mysteries."
The Captain rose, telling me to follow him. I had had time to recover.
I obeyed. The saloon was dark, but through the transparent glass the
waves were sparkling. I looked.
For half a mile around the Nautilus, the waters seemed bathed in
electric light. The sandy bottom was clean and bright. Some of the
ship's crew in their diving-dresses were clearing away half-rotten
barrels and empty cases from the midst of the blackened wrecks. From
these cases and from these barrels escaped ingots of gold and silver,
cascades of piastres and jewels. The sand was heaped up with them.
Laden with their precious booty, the men returned to the Nautilus,
disposed of their burden, and went back to this inexhaustible fishery
of gold and silver.
I understood now. This was the scene of the battle of the 22nd of
October, 1702. Here on this very spot the galleons laden for the
Spanish Government had sunk. Here Captain Nemo came, according to his
wants, to pack up those millions with which he burdened the Nautilus.
It was for him and him alone America had given up her precious metals.
He was heir direct, without anyone to share, in those treasures torn
from the Incas and from the conquered of Ferdinand Cortez.
"Did you know, sir," he asked, smiling, "that the sea contained such
riches?"
"I knew," I answered, "that they value money held in suspension in
these waters at two millions."
"Doubtless; but to extract this money the expense would be greater than
the profit. Here, on the contrary, I have but to pick up what man has
lost--and not only in Vigo Bay, but in a thousand other ports where
shipwrecks have happened, and which are marked on my submarine map.
Can you understand now the source of the millions I am worth?"
"I understand, Captain. But allow me to tell you that in exploring
Vigo Bay you have only been beforehand with a rival society."
"And which?"
"A society which has received from the Spanish Government the privilege
of seeking those buried galleons. The shareholders are led on by the
allurement of an enormous bounty, for they value these rich shipwrecks
at five hundred millions."
"Five hundred millions they were," answered Captain Nemo, "but they are
so no longer."
"Just so," said I; "and a warning to those shareholders would be an act
of charity. But who knows if it would be well received? What gamblers
usually regret above all is less the loss of their money than of their
foolish hopes. After all, I pity them less than the thousands of
unfortunates to whom so much riches well-distributed would have been
profitable, whilst for them they will be for ever barren."
I had no sooner expressed this regret than I felt that it must have
wounded Captain Nemo.
"Barren!" he exclaimed, with animation. "Do you think then, sir, that
these riches are lost because I gather them? Is it for myself alone,
according to your idea, that I take the trouble to collect these
treasures? Who told you that I did not make a good use of it? Do you
think I am ignorant that there are suffering beings and oppressed races
on this earth, miserable creatures to console, victims to avenge? Do
you not understand?"
Captain Nemo stopped at these last words, regretting perhaps that he
had spoken so much. But I had guessed that, whatever the motive which
had forced him to seek independence under the sea, it had left him
still a man, that his heart still beat for the sufferings of humanity,
and that his immense charity was for oppressed races as well as
individuals. And I then understood for whom those millions were
destined which were forwarded by Captain Nemo when the Nautilus was
cruising in the waters of Crete.