I watched to see if their apparition would attract some men from the Nautilus on to the platform. But no. The enormous machine, lying off, was absolutely deserted. Twenty minutes later we were on board. The panels were open. After making the boat fast, we entered into the interior of the Nautilus. I descended to the drawing-room, from whence I heard some chords. Captain Nemo was there, bending over his organ, and plunged in a musical ecstasy. “Captain!” He did not hear me. “Captain!” I said, touching his hand. He shuddered, and, turning round, said, “Ah! it is you, Professor? Well, have you had a good hunt, have you botanised successfully?” “Yes Captain; but we have unfortunately brought a troop of bipeds, whose vicinity troubles me.” “What bipeds?” “Savages.” “Savages!” he echoed, ironically. “So you are astonished, Professor, at having set foot on a strange land and finding savages? Savages! where are there not any? Besides, are they worse than others, these whom you call savages?” “But Captain——” “How many have you counted?” “A hundred at least.” “M. Aronnax,” replied Captain Nemo, placing his fingers on the organ stops, “when all the natives of Papua are assembled on this shore, the Nautilus will have nothing to fear from their attacks.” The Captain’s fingers were then running over the keys of the instrument, and I remarked that he touched only the black keys, which gave his melodies an essentially Scotch character.