Chapter 59

CHAPTER 17

Day had returned. No ray of light penetrated into the profundity of the
cavern. It being high-water, the entrance was closed by the sea. But the
artificial light, which escaped in long streams from the skylights of the
"Nautilus" was as vivid as before, and the sheet of water shone around the
floating vessel.

An extreme exhaustion now overcame Captain Nemo, who had fallen back upon
the divan. It was useless to contemplate removing him to Granite House, for
he had expressed his wish to remain in the midst of those marvels of the
"Nautilus" which millions could not have purchased, and to wait there for
that death which was swiftly approaching.

During a long interval of prostration, which rendered him almost
unconscious, Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett attentively observed the
condition of the dying man. It was apparent that his strength was gradually
diminishing. That frame, once so robust, was now but the fragile tenement
of a departing soul. All of life was concentrated in the heart and head.

The engineer and reporter consulted in whispers. Was it possible to
render any aid to the dying man? Might his life, if not saved, be prolonged
for some days? He himself had said that no remedy could avail, and he
awaited with tranquillity that death which had for him no terrors.

"We can do nothing," said Gideon Spilett.

"But of what is he dying?" asked Pencroft.

"Life is simply fading out," replied the reporter.

"Nevertheless," said the sailor, "if we move him into the open air, and
the light of the sun, he might perhaps recover."

"No, Pencroft," answered the engineer, "it is useless to attempt it.
Besides, Captain Nemo would never consent to leave his vessel. He has lived
for a dozen years on board the 'Nautilus,' and on board the 'Nautilus' he
desires to die."

Without doubt Captain Nemo heard Cyrus Harding's reply, for he raised
himself slightly, and in a voice more feeble, but always intelligible,--

"You are right, sir," he said. "I shall die here--it is my wish; and
therefore I have a request to make of you."

Cyrus Harding and his companions had drawn near the divan, and now
arranged the cushions in such a manner as to better support the dying man.

They saw his eyes wander over all the marvels of this saloon, lighted by
the electric rays which fell from the arabesques of the luminous ceiling.
He surveyed, one after the other, the pictures hanging from the splendid
tapestries of the partitions, the chef-d'oeuvres of the Italian, Flemish,
French, and Spanish masters; the statues of marble and bronze on their
pedestals; the magnificent organ, leaning against the after-partition; the
aquarium, in which bloomed the most wonderful