He observed it a good while.
As for me, deeply puzzled, I went below to the lounge and brought back an excellent long–range telescope I habitually used.
Leaning my elbows on the beacon housing, which jutted from the stern of the platform, I got set to scour that whole stretch of sky and sea.
But no sooner had I peered into the eyepiece than the instrument was snatched from my hands.
I spun around.
Captain Nemo was standing before me, but I almost didn't recognize him.
His facial features were transfigured.
Gleaming with dark fire, his eyes had shrunk beneath his frowning brow.
His teeth were half bared.
His rigid body, clenched fists, and head drawn between his shoulders, all attested to a fierce hate breathing from every pore.
He didn't move.
My spyglass fell from his hand and rolled at his feet.
Had I accidentally caused these symptoms of anger?
Did this incomprehensible individual think I had detected some secret forbidden to guests on the Nautilus?
No!
I wasn't the subject of his hate because he wasn't even looking at me; his eyes stayed stubbornly focused on that inscrutable point of the horizon.
Finally Captain Nemo regained his self–control.
His facial appearance, so profoundly changed, now resumed its usual calm.
He addressed a few words to his chief officer in their strange language, then he turned to me:
"Professor Aronnax," he told me in a tone of some urgency,
"I ask that you now honor one of the binding agreements between us."
"Which one, Captain?"
"You and your companions must be placed in confinement until I see fit to set you free."
"You're in command," I answered, gaping at him.
"But may I address a question to you?"
"You may not, sir."
After that, I stopped objecting and started obeying, since resistance was useless.
I went below to the cabin occupied by Ned Land and Conseil, and I informed them of the captain's decision.
I'll let the reader decide how this news was received by the Canadian.
In any case, there was no time for explanations.
Four crewmen were waiting at the door, and they led us to the cell where we had spent our first night aboard the Nautilus.
Ned Land tried to lodge a complaint, but the only answer he got was a door shut in his face.
"Will master tell me what this means?"
Conseil asked me.
I told my companions what had happened.
They were as astonished as I was, but no wiser.
Then I sank into deep speculation, and Captain Nemo's strange facial seizure kept haunting me.
I was incapable of connecting two ideas in logical order, and I had strayed into the most absurd hypotheses, when I was snapped out of my mental struggles by these words from Ned Land:
"Well, look here!
Lunch is served!"
Indeed, the table had been laid.
Apparently Captain Nemo had given this order at the same time he commanded the Nautilus to pick up speed.
"Will master allow me to make him a recommendation?"
Conseil asked me.
"Yes, my boy," I replied.
"Well, master needs to eat his lunch!
It's prudent, because we have no idea what the future holds."
"You're right, Conseil."
"Unfortunately," Ned Land said, "they've only given us the standard menu."
"Ned my friend," Conseil answered, "what would you say if they'd given us no lunch at all?"