"Will massa have some oysters stewed in whale's milk?" he asked; "or some jam made of sea anemones?"
"I'd rather you'd not tell me what the dishes are; it will set me against them if you do," answered the professor with a wry face.
When the repast was ended, Mont jumped up. "I feel better," he said. "Mister Number One."
"Massa call me?" asked the black, who was clearing away.
"Yes. Where are we now?"
"We gone down, massa, and now we lie at the bottom of the sea."
Mont regarded him with undisguised astonishment.
The Searcher was indeed a wonderful craft.