I knew not where we were.
And the Canadian, too, his strength and patience at an end, appeared no more.
Conseil could not draw a word from him; and, fearing that, in a dreadful
fit of madness, he might kill himself, watched him with constant devotion.
One morning (what date it was I could not say) I had fallen into a heavy
sleep towards the early hours, a sleep both painful and unhealthy, when I
suddenly awoke. Ned Land was leaning over me, saying, in a low voice,
"We are going to fly." I sat up.
"When shall we go?" I asked.
"To-night. All inspection on board the Nautilus seems to have ceased.
All appear to be stupefied. You will be ready, sir?"
"Yes; where are we?"
"In sight of land. I took the reckoning this morning in the fog--
twenty miles to the east."
"What country is it?"
"I do not know; but, whatever it is, we will take refuge there."
"Yes, Ned, yes. We will fly to-night, even if the sea should swallow us up."
"The sea is bad, the wind violent, but twenty miles in that light
boat of the Nautilus does not frighten me.
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