The Abraham Lincoln had been well chosen and equipped
for her new destination. She was a frigate of great speed,
fitted with high-pressure engines which admitted a pressure
of seven atmospheres. Under this the Abraham Lincoln attained
the mean speed of nearly eighteen knots and a third an hour--
a considerable speed, but, nevertheless, insufficient to grapple
with this gigantic cetacean.

The interior arrangements of the frigate corresponded to its
nautical qualities. I was well satisfied with my cabin,
which was in the after part, opening upon the gunroom.

"We shall be well off here," said I to Conseil.

"As well, by your honour's leave, as a hermit-crab in the shell
of a whelk," said Conseil.

I left Conseil to stow our trunks conveniently away, and remounted
the poop in order to survey the preparations for departure.

At that moment Commander Farragut was ordering the last moorings
to be cast loose which held the Abraham Lincoln to the pier
of Brooklyn. So in a quarter of an hour, perhaps less,
the frigate would have sailed without me. I should have missed
this extraordinary, supernatural, and incredible expedition,
the recital of which may well meet with some suspicion.

But Commander Farragut would not lose a day nor an hour
in scouring the seas in which the animal had been sighted.
He sent for the engineer.