“Professor, when I first suggested your joining in a shooting-party in my forest in Crespo, you believed I was inconsistent. When I told you that these woods were under water, you thought I was a lunatic. You should never judge men hastily.”
“But, captain—”
“Listen to me, if you please, and you will see whether I am to be accused of folly or inconsistency.”
“I am listening.”
“You are aware that man can live under water so long as he can carry with him a supply of atmospheric air. In all submarine works, the artisan is clothed with a waterproof dress, and his head is covered with a metal helmet. He receives the air by means of force-pumps and regulators of the supply.”
“Like the diver’s jacket,” I said.
“Somewhat, but in those conditions the man is not free. He is attached to a pump by an india-rubber tube, a chain which binds him to the bank; and if we were thus tied to the Nautilus, we could not go far.”
“And how do you obtain the desired freedom?” I asked.
“By employing the Rouquayrol-Denayrouze apparatus, invented by two of your countrymen, but which I have perfected for my own use, and which you may yourself make use of, without any inconvenience whatever. The apparatus is composed of a reservoir of sheet-iron, in which I store the air, under a pressure of fifty atmospheres. This reservoir is carried on the back, like a soldier’s knapsack. The upper part forms a box, from which the air, restrained by a sort of bellows, cannot escape, except at the normal tension. In the Rouquayrol
