"Yes, massa. There twelve slaves on board this ship, and all have figure names, me One, other nigger Two, other Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, and so on up to Twelve."
"That's a queer idea," said our hero; "fancy calling out for your servant, and saying, 'Here, Nine, I want you,' or 'I say, Three, do this'!"
"It is my opinion," exclaimed the professor, "that Captain Vindex is a very remarkable man—the most remarkable, in fact, that ever lived. He has invented a singular ship which can go under the sea at will, but why not? Was not the invention of steam engines laughed at, as well as the invention of gas? Who, a hundred years ago, would have believed in the electric telegraph, by means of which we send a message to the end of the earth in a minute?"
"Very true," replied Mont. "And don't forget the telephone, and the submarine boat the government is trying to build. It's a pity a man of such genius should shut himself up like this, though."
"It is a pity," answered the professor.
"What's worse, though," remarked Carl, "is that he means to keep us as prisoners."
"If he can," said Stump.
"Don't you be so fast, Stump, my boy," said Mont. "Keep your mouth shut, or you may get into trouble."
"Very sorry, but I don't like such goings-on, and wish I was back again on the shore."
The negro handed the professor a fresh dish.