The injections could not carry it to a higher point.But,as the congelation of the sea-water produces at least 2@,Iwas at least reassured against the dangers of solidification.
The next day,March 27th,six yards of ice had been cleared,twelve feet only remaining to be cleared away.There was yet forty-eight hours'work.
The air could not be renewed in the interior of the Nautilus.
And this day would make it worse.An intolerable weight oppressed me.
Towards three o'clock in the evening this feeling rose to a violent degree.
Yawns dislocated my jaws.My lungs panted as they inhaled this burning fluid,which became rarefied more and more.Amoral torpor took hold of me.
Iwas powerless,almost unconscious.My brave Conseil,though exhibiting the same symptoms and suffering in the same manner,never left me.
He took my hand and encouraged me,and Iheard him murmur,"Oh!if Icould only not breathe,so as to leave more air for my master!"Tears came into my eyes on hearing him speak thus.If our situation to all was intolerable in the interior,with what haste and gladness would we put on our cork-jackets to work in our turn!
Pickaxes sounded on the frozen ice-beds.Our arms ached,the skin was torn off our hands.But what were these fatigues,what did the wounds matter?Vital air came to the lungs!
We breathed!we breathed!
All this time no one prolonged his voluntary task beyond the prescribed time.
His task accomplished,each one handed in turn to his panting companions the apparatus that supplied him with life.Captain Nemo set the example,and submitted first to this severe discipline.When the time came,he gave up his apparatus to another and returned to the vitiated air on board,calm,unflinching,unmurmuring.
On that day the ordinary work was accomplished with unusual vigour.
Only two yards remained to be raised from the surface.
Two yards only separated us from the open sea.But the reservoirs were nearly emptied of air.The little that remained ought to be kept for the workers;not a particle for the Nautilus.
When Iwent back on board,Iwas half suffocated.What a night!
Iknow not how to describe it.The next day my breathing was oppressed.Dizziness accompanied the pain in my head and made me like a drunken man.My companions showed the same symptoms.
Some of the crew had rattling in the throat.
On that day,the sixth of our imprisonment,Captain Nemo,finding the pickaxes work too slowly,resolved to crush the ice-bed that still separated us from the liquid sheet.
This man's coolness and energy never forsook him.He subdued his physical pains by moral force.
By his orders the vessel was lightened,that is to say,raised from the ice-bed by a change of specific gravity.
When it floated they towed it so as to bring it above the immense trench made on the level of the water-line.Then,filling his reservoirs of water,he descended and shut himself up in the hole.
Just then all the crew came on board,and the double door of communication was shut.The Nautilus then rested on the bed of ice,which was not one yard thick,and which the sounding leads had perforated in a thousand places.
The taps of the reservoirs were then opened,and a hundred cubic yards of water was let in,increasing the weight of the Nautilus to 1,800tons.
We waited,we listened,forgetting our sufferings in hope.Our safety depended on this last chance.Notwithstanding the buzzing in my head,Isoon heard the humming sound under the hull of the Nautilus.The ice cracked with a singular noise,like tearing paper,and the Nautilus sank.
"We are off!"murmured Conseil in my ear.
Icould not answer him.Iseized his hand,and pressed it convulsively.
All at once,carried away by its frightful overcharge,the Nautilus sank like a bullet under the waters,that is to say,it fell as if it was in a vacuum.
Then all the electric force was put on the pumps,that soon began to let the water out of the reservoirs.After some minutes,our fall was stopped.
Soon,too,the manometer indicated an ascending movement.The screw,going at full speed,made the iron hull tremble to its very bolts and drew us towards the north.But if this floating under the iceberg is to last another day before we reach the open sea,Ishall be dead first.
Half stretched upon a divan in the library,Iwas suffocating.
My face was purple,my lips blue,my faculties suspended.
Ineither saw nor heard.All notion of time had gone from my mind.
My muscles could not contract.Ido not know how many hours passed thus,but Iwas conscious of the agony that was coming over me.
Ifelt as if Iwas going to die.Suddenly Icame to.
Some breaths of air penetrated my lungs.Had we risen to the surface of the waves?Were we free of the iceberg?No!Ned and Conseil,my two brave friends,were sacrificing themselves to save me.
Some particles of air still remained at the bottom of one apparatus.
Instead of using it,they had kept it for me,and,while they were being suffocated,they gave me life,drop by drop.
Iwanted to push back the thing;they held my hands,and for some moments Ibreathed freely.Ilooked at the clock;it was eleven in the morning.It ought to be the 28th of March.
The Nautilus went at a frightful pace,forty miles an hour.It literally tore through the water.Where was Captain Nemo?Had he succumbed?
Were his companions dead with him?At the moment the manometer indicated that we were not more than twenty feet from the surface.
Amere plate of ice separated us from the atmosphere.Could we not break it?Perhaps.In any case the Nautilus was going to attempt it.
Ifelt that it was in an oblique position,lowering the stern,and raising the bows.The introduction of water had been the means of disturbing its equilibrium.Then,impelled by its powerful screw,it attacked the ice-field from beneath like a formidable battering-ram.
It broke it by backing and then rushing forward against the field,which gradually gave way;and at last,dashing suddenly against it,shot forwards on the ice-field,that crushed beneath its weight.
The panel was opened--one might say torn off--and the pure air came in in abundance to all parts of the Nautilus.
