brilliancy did not abate--but suddenly, and as if the source of this
brilliant emanation was exhausted. Then it reappeared on the other
side of the vessel, as if it had turned and slid under the hull.
Any moment a collision might have occurred which would have been fatal
to us. However, I was astonished at the manoeuvres of the frigate.
She fled and did not attack.

On the captain's face, generally so impassive, was an expression
of unaccountable astonishment.

"Mr. Aronnax," he said, "I do not know with what formidable
being I have to deal, and I will not imprudently risk my
frigate in the midst of this darkness. Besides, how attack
this unknown thing, how defend one's self from it?
Wait for daylight, and the scene will change."

"You have no further doubt, captain, of the nature of the animal?"

"No, sir; it is evidently a gigantic narwhal, and an electric one."

"Perhaps," added I, "one can only approach it with a torpedo."

"Undoubtedly," replied the captain, "if it possesses such
dreadful power, it is the most terrible animal that ever was created.
That is why, sir, I must be on my guard."

The crew were on their feet all night. No one thought of sleep.
The Abraham Lincoln, not being able to struggle with such velocity,
had moderated its pace, and sailed at half speed. For its part,
the narwhal, imitating the frigate, let the waves rock it at will,