“To steer this boat to starboard or port, to turn—in a word, following a horizontal plan, I use an ordinary rudder fixed on the back of the stern-post, and with one wheel and some tackle to steer by. But I can also make the _Nautilus_ rise and sink, and sink and rise, by a vertical movement by means of two inclined planes fastened to its sides, opposite the centre of flotation, planes that move in every direction, and that are worked by powerful levers from the interior. If the planes are kept parallel with the boat, it moves horizontally. If slanted, the _Nautilus_, according to this inclination, and under the influence of the screw, either sinks diagonally or rises diagonally as it suits me. And even if I wish to rise more quickly to the surface, I ship the screw, and the pressure of the water causes the _Nautilus_ to rise vertically like a balloon filled with hydrogen.” “Bravo, Captain! But how can the steersman follow the route in the middle of the waters?” “The steersman is placed in a glazed box, that is raised about the hull of the _Nautilus_, and furnished with lenses.” “Are these lenses capable of resisting such pressure?” “Perfectly. Glass, which breaks at a blow, is, nevertheless, capable of offering considerable resistance. During some experiments of fishing by electric light in 1864 in the Northern Seas, we saw plates less than a third of an inch thick resist a pressure of sixteen atmospheres. Now, the glass that I use is not less than thirty times thicker.” “Granted. But, after all, in order to see, the light must exceed the darkness, and in the midst of the darkness in the water, how can you see?” “Behind the steersman’s cage is placed a powerful electric reflector, the rays from which light up the sea for half a mile in front.” “Ah! bravo, bravo, Captain! Now I can account for this phosphorescence in the supposed narwhal that puzzled us so. I now ask you if the boarding of the _Nautilus_ and of the _Scotia_, that has made such a noise, has been the result of a chance rencontre?” “Quite accidental, sir. I was sailing only one fathom below the surface of the water, when the shock came. It had no bad result.” “None, sir. But now, about your rencontre with the _Abraham Lincoln?_” “Professor, I am sorry for one of the best vessels in the American navy; but they attacked me, and I was bound to defend myself. I contented myself, however, with putting the frigate _hors de combat;_ she will not have any difficulty in getting repaired at the next port.” “Ah, Commander! your _Nautilus_ is certainly a marvellous boat.”