There was no resisting this imperious command, it would have been useless. I went down to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and told them the Captain’s determination. You may judge how this communication was received by the Canadian. But there was not time for altercation. Four of the crew waited at the door, and conducted us to that cell where we had passed our first night on board the _Nautilus_. Ned Land would have remonstrated, but the door was shut upon him. “Will master tell me what this means?” asked Conseil. I told my companions what had passed. They were as much astonished as I, and equally at a loss how to account for it. Meanwhile, I was absorbed in my own reflections, and could think of nothing but the strange fear depicted in the Captain’s countenance. I was utterly at a loss to account for it, when my cogitations were disturbed by these words from Ned Land: “Hallo! breakfast is ready.” And indeed the table was laid. Evidently Captain Nemo had given this order at the same time that he had hastened the speed of the _Nautilus_. “Will master permit me to make a recommendation?” asked Conseil. “Yes, my boy.” “Well, it is that master breakfasts. It is prudent, for we do not know what may happen.” “You are right, Conseil.” “Unfortunately,” said Ned Land, “they have only given us the ship’s fare.” “Friend Ned,” asked Conseil, “what would you have said if the breakfast had been entirely forgotten?” This argument cut short the harpooner’s recriminations. We sat down to table. The meal was eaten in silence. Just then the luminous globe that lighted the cell went out, and left us in total darkness. Ned Land was soon asleep, and what astonished me was that Conseil went off into a heavy slumber. I was thinking what could have caused his irresistible drowsiness, when I felt my brain becoming stupefied. In spite of my efforts to keep my eyes open, they would close. A painful suspicion seized me. Evidently soporific substances had been mixed with the food we had just taken. Imprisonment was not enough to conceal Captain Nemo’s projects from us, sleep was more necessary. I then heard the panels shut. The undulations of the sea, which caused a slight rolling motion, ceased. Had the _Nautilus_ quitted the surface of the ocean? Had it gone back to the motionless bed of water? I tried to resist sleep. It was impossible. My breathing grew weak. I felt a mortal cold freeze my stiffened and half-paralysed limbs. My eyelids, like leaden caps, fell over my eyes. I could not raise them; a morbid sleep, full of hallucinations, bereft me of my being. Then the visions disappeared, and left me in complete insensibility. CHAPTER XXIII THE CORAL KINGDOM