CHAPTER XXIII.
CONCLUSION.
There was an end to our voyage under the sea. What passed during the night, and how the boat escaped from the terrible jaws of the Maëlstrom—how Ned Land, Conseil, and I ever came out of the gulf alive—I cannot tell.
When I came to myself, I was lying in a fisherman’s hut in the Loffoden Islands. My two companions, safe and sound, were beside me, holding my hands in theirs.
We embraced each other joyfully.
We had no chance to return to France then. Communication between the north of Norway and the southern ports is rare. I was therefore obliged to wait for the starting of the steamboat which plies bi-monthly from the North Cape.
So, now, amongst the kind-hearted people who have rescued us, I am revising these notes of our adventures. It is quite true. Not a fact has been omitted; not a detail exaggerated. It is the faithful narrative of this incredible expedition beneath the element inaccessible to mankind, but which progress will one day open up.
Shall I be credited! I do not know. After all it matters little. What I now declare is that I have a right to speak of those seas beneath which I have traversed twenty
