I took the wounded man’s pulse. It was intermittent. The body’s extremities were already growing cold, and I saw that death was approaching without any possibility of my holding it in check. After dressing the poor man’s wound, I redid the linen bandages around his head, and I turned to Captain Nemo. “How did he get this wound?” I asked him. “That’s not important,” the captain replied evasively. “The Nautilus suffered a collision that cracked one of the engine levers, and it struck this man. My chief officer was standing beside him. This man leaped forward to intercept the blow. A brother lays down his life for his brother, a friend for his friend, what could be simpler? That’s the law for everyone on board the Nautilus. But what’s your diagnosis of his condition?” I hesitated to speak my mind. “You may talk freely,” the captain told me. “This man doesn’t understand French.” I took a last look at the wounded man, then I replied: “This man will be dead in two hours.” “Nothing can save him?” “Nothing.” Captain Nemo clenched his fists, and tears slid from his eyes, which I had thought incapable of weeping. For a few moments more I observed the dying man, whose life was ebbing little by little. He grew still more pale under the electric light that bathed his deathbed. I looked at his intelligent head, furrowed with premature wrinkles that misfortune, perhaps misery, had etched long before. I was hoping to detect the secret of his life in the last words that might escape from his lips! “You may go, Professor Aronnax,” Captain Nemo told me. I left the captain in the dying man’s cabin and I repaired to my stateroom, very moved by this scene. All day long I was aquiver with gruesome forebodings. That night I slept poorly, and between my fitful dreams, I thought I heard a distant moaning, like a funeral dirge. Was it a prayer for the dead, murmured in that language I couldn’t understand? The next morning I climbed on deck. Captain Nemo was already there. As soon as he saw me, he came over. “Professor,” he said to me, “would it be convenient for you to make an underwater excursion today?” “With my companions?” I asked. “If they’re agreeable.” “We’re yours to command, captain.” “Then kindly put on your diving suits.” As for the dead or dying man, he hadn’t come into the picture. I rejoined Ned Land and Conseil. I informed them of Captain Nemo’s proposition. Conseil was eager to accept, and this time the Canadian proved perfectly amenable to going with us. It was eight o’clock in the morning. By 8:30 we were suited up for this new stroll and equipped with our two devices for lighting and breathing. The double door opened, and accompanied by Captain Nemo with a dozen crewmen following, we set foot on the firm seafloor where the Nautilus was resting, ten meters down.