The things we do!

The Nautilus was immovable.
While its reservoirs were filled, it kept at a depth of 1,000 yards,
a region rarely visited in the ocean, and in which large fish
were seldom seen.
I was then reading a charming book by Jean Mace, The Slaves of the Stomach,
and I was learning some valuable lessons from it, when Conseil interrupted me.
"Will master come here a moment?" he said, in a curious voice.
"What is the matter, Conseil?"
"I want master to look."
I rose, went, and leaned on my elbows before the panes and watched.
In a full electric light, an enormous black mass, quite immovable,
was suspended in the midst of the waters. I watched it attentively,
seeking to find out the nature of this gigantic cetacean.
But a sudden thought crossed my mind. "A vessel!"
I said, half aloud.
"Yes," replied the Canadian, "a disabled ship that has sunk perpendicularly."
Ned Land was right; we were close to a vessel of which the tattered
shrouds still hung from their chains. The keel seemed to be
in good order, and it had been wrecked at most some few hours.


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