And, above all, what must he have thought when Captain Nemo, drawing from the pocket of his dress a bag of pearls, placed it in his hand! This munificent charity from the man of the waters to the poor Cingalese was accepted with a trembling hand. His wondering eyes showed that he knew not to what super-human beings he owed both fortune and life. At a sign from the Captain we regained the bank, and, following the road already traversed, came in about half an hour to the anchor which held the canoe of the Nautilus to the earth. Once on board, we each, with the help of the sailors, got rid of the heavy copper helmet. Captain Nemo’s first word was to the Canadian. “Thank you, Master Land,” said he. “It was in revenge, Captain,” replied Ned Land. “I owed you that.” A ghastly smile passed across the Captain’s lips, and that was all. “To the Nautilus,” said he. The boat flew over the waves. Some minutes after we met the shark’s dead body floating. By the black marking of the extremity of its fins, I recognised the terrible melanopteron of the Indian Seas, of the species of shark so properly called. It was more than twenty-five feet long; its enormous mouth occupied one-third of its body. It was an adult, as was known by its six rows of teeth placed in an isosceles triangle in the upper jaw.