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CHAPTER XII. CASH ALLOTS AND WAILS. During the nights of the 13th and 14th of March,

the Nautilus returned to its southerly course. I fancied that, when on a level with Cape

Horn, he would turn the helm westward in order to beat the Pacific Seas, and so complete

the tour of the world. He did nothing of the kind, but continued on his way to the southern

regions. Where was he going to? To the pole? It was madness.

I began to think that the captain's temerity justified Ned Land's fears. For some time

past, the Canadian had not spoken to me of his projects of flight. He was less communicative,

almost silent. I could see that this lengthened imprisonment was weighing upon him, and I

felt that rage was burning within him. When he met the captain, his eyes lit up was suppressed

anger, and I feared that his natural violence would lead him into some extreme. That day,

the 14th of March, consey and he came to me in my room, I inquired the cause of their

visit. A simple question to ask you, sir, reply the

Canadian. Speak, Ned. How many men are there on board the

Nautilus, do you think? I cannot tell, my friend. I should say that it's working does

not require a large crew. Certainly, under existing conditions, ten men at the most ought

to be enough. Well, why should there be any more? Why, I replied, looking fixably at

...