In the midst of the waters a man appeared, a diver, carrying at his belt a leathern purse. It was not a body abandoned to the waves; it was a living man, swimming with a strong hand, disappearing occasionally to take breath at the surface.
I turned towards Captain Nemo, and in an agitated voice exclaimed:
“A man shipwrecked! He must be saved at any price!”
“A man! A shipwrecked sailor!” I cried
The Captain did not answer me, but came and leaned against the panel.
The man had approached, and, with his face flattened against the glass, was looking at us.
To my great amazement, Captain Nemo signed to him. The diver answered with his hand, mounted immediately to the surface of the water, and did not appear again.
“Do not be uncomfortable,” said Captain Nemo. “It is Nicholas of Cape Matapan, surnamed Pesca. He is well known in all the Cyclades. A bold diver! water is his element, and he lives more in it than on land, going continually from one island to another, even as far as Crete.”