Двадцать тысяч лье под водой / Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

I received a letter three hours before the Abraham Lincoln left its pier; the letter read as follows:

Pierre Aronnax

Professor at the Paris Museum

Fifth Avenue Hotel

New York

Sir,

If you would like to join the expedition on the Abraham Lincoln, the government of the Union will be pleased to regard you as France’s representative in this undertaking. Commander Farragut has a cabin at your disposal.

Very cordially yours,

В В В В J. B. Hobson,

В В В В Secretary of the Navy.

Chapter 3

Three seconds after reading this letter from the honorable Secretary of the Navy, I understood that my true vocation, my sole purpose in life, was to hunt down this disturbing monster and rid the world of it.

I had just returned from an arduous journey, exhausted and badly needing a rest. I wanted nothing more than to see my country again, my friends, my modest quarters by the Botanical Gardens, my dearly beloved collections! But now nothing could have held me back. I forgot everything else, and without another thought of exhaustion, friends, or collections, I accepted the American government’s offer.

“Besides,” I thought, “all roads lead home to Europe, and our unicorn may be gracious enough to take me toward the coast of France! That fine animal may even let itself be captured in European seas—as a personal favor to me—and I’ll bring back to the Museum of Natural History at least half a meter of its ivory lance! Conseil[13 - Conseil – Консель]!” I called in an impatient voice.

Conseil was my servant. A devoted lad who went with me on all my journeys; a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked and who returned the compliment; a born stoic, punctilious on principle, hardworking, very skillful with his hands.

In Conseil I had a specialist in biological classification, an enthusiast who could run with acrobatic agility up and down the whole ladder of branches, groups, classes, subclasses, orders, families, genera, subgenera, species, and varieties.

For the past ten years, Conseil had gone with me everywhere. The lad was thirty years old, and I had turned forty.

Conseil had but one flaw. He was a fanatic on formality, and he only addressed me in the third person.

“Conseil!” I repeated, while beginning my preparations for departure. I had confidence in this devoted lad.