A VANISHED CONTINENT The next morning, the 19th of February, I saw the Canadian enter my room. I expected this visit. He looked very disappointed. “Well, sir?” said he. “Well, Ned, fortune was against us yesterday.” “Yes; that Captain must needs stop exactly at the hour we intended leaving his vessel.” “Yes, Ned, he had business at his bankers.” “His bankers!” “Or rather his banking-house; by that I mean the ocean, where his riches are safer than in the chests of the State.” I then related to the Canadian the incidents of the preceding night, hoping to bring him back to the idea of not abandoning the Captain; but my recital had no other result than an energetically expressed regret from Ned that he had not been able to take a walk on the battlefield of Vigo on his own account. “However,” said he, “all is not ended. It is only a blow of the harpoon lost. Another time we must succeed; and to-night, if necessary——” “In what direction is the Nautilus going?” I asked. “I do not know,” replied Ned. “Well, at noon we shall see the point.” The Canadian returned to Conseil. As soon as I was dressed, I went into the saloon. The compass was not reassuring. The course of the Nautilus was S.S.W. We were turning our backs on Europe. I waited with some impatience till the ship’s place was pricked on the chart.