"The carriage!" exclaimed the Colonel. "Come in."

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An Express of the Future

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I followed him without offering any objection, and the panel immediately slid back into its place.

By the light of an electric lamp in the roof I carefully examined the carriage I was in.

Nothing could be more simple: a long cylinder, comfortably upholstered, along which some fifty armchairs, in pairs, were ranged in twentyfive parallel ranks. At either end a valve regulated the atmospheric pressure, that at the farther end allowing breathable air to enter the carriage, that in front allowing for the discharge of any excess beyond a normal pressure.

After spending a few moments on this examination, I became impatient.

"Well," I said, "are we not going to start?"

"Going to start?" cried the Colonel. "We have started!"

Startedlike thatwithout the least jerk, was it possible? I listened attentively, trying to detect a sound of some kind that might have guided me.

If we had really startedif the Colonel had not deceived me in talking of a speed of eighteen hundred kilometres an hourwe must already be far from any land, under the sea; above our heads the huge, foamcrested waves; even at that moment, perhaps taking it for a monstrous seaserpent of an unknown kindwhales were battering with their powerful tails our long, iron prison!

But I heard nothing but a dull rumble, produced, no doubt, by the passage of our carriage, and, plunged in boundless astonishment, unable to believe in the reality of all that had happened to me, I sat silently, allowing the time to pass.

At the end of about an hour, a sense of freshness upon my forehead suddenly aroused me from the torpor into which I had sunk by degrees.

I raised my hand to my brow: it was moist.

Moist! Why was that? Had the tube burst under pressure of the watersa pressure which could not but be formidable, since it increases at the rate of "an atmosphere" every ten metres of depth?

Had the ocean broken in upon us?

Fear seized upon me. Terrified, I tried to call outandand I found myself in my garden, generously sprinkled by a driving rain, the big drops of which had awakened me. I had simply fallen asleep while reading the article devoted by an American journalist to the fantastic projects of Colonel Piercewho, also, I much fear, has only dreamed.

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