“Our path is barred to the south?” I asked him.
“Yes, sir. When it overturned, that iceberg closed off every exit.”
“We’re boxed in?”
“Yes.”
CHAPTER 16
Shortage of Air
CONSEQUENTLY, above, below, and around the Nautilus, there were impenetrable frozen walls. We were the Ice Bank’s prisoners! The Canadian banged a table with his fearsome fist. Conseil kept still. I stared at the captain. His face had resumed its usual emotionlessness. He crossed his arms. He pondered. The Nautilus did not stir.
The captain then broke into speech:
“Gentlemen,” he said in a calm voice, “there are two ways of dying under the conditions in which we’re placed.”
This inexplicable individual acted like a mathematics professor working out a problem for his pupils.
“The first way,” he went on, “is death by crushing. The second is death by asphyxiation. I don’t mention the possibility of death by starvation because the Nautilus’s provisions will certainly last longer than we will. Therefore, let’s concentrate on our chances of being crushed or asphyxiated.”