from understanding the dynamic force by which it was propelled.
Such being his temperament, it may well be imagined that he was
anxious not to remain long in ignorance of the cause of the phenomena
which had been so startling in their consequences.

"We must inquire into this to-morrow," he exclaimed, as darkness
fell suddenly upon him. Then, after a pause, he added:
"That is to say, if there is to be a to-morrow; for if I were
to be put to the torture, I could not tell what has become
of the sun."

"May I ask, sir, what we are to do now?" put in Ben Zoof.

"Stay where we are for the present; and when daylight appears--
if it ever does appear--we will explore the coast to the west and south,
and return to the gourbi. If we can find out nothing else,
we must at least discover where we are."

"Meanwhile, sir, may we go to sleep?"

"Certainly, if you like, and if you can."

Nothing loath to avail himself of his master's permission, Ben Zoof
crouched down in an angle of the shore, threw his arms over his eyes,
and very soon slept the sleep of the ignorant, which is often sounder
than the sleep of the just. Overwhelmed by the questions that crowded
upon his brain, Captain Servadac could only wander up and down the shore.
Again and again he asked himself what the catastrophe could portend.
Had the towns of Algiers, Oran, and Mostaganem escaped the inundation?
Could he bring himself to believe that all the inhabitants, his friends,