I do not, therefore, obey its laws, and I desire you never to allude to them before me again!" This was said plainly.

A flash of anger and disdain kindled in the eyes of the Unknown, and I had a glimpse of a terrible past in the life of this man.

Not only had he put himself beyond the pale of human laws, but he had made himself independent of them, free in the strictest acceptation of the word, quite beyond their reach! Who then would dare to pursue him at the bottom of the sea, when, on its surface, he defied all attempts made against him?
What vessel could resist the shock of his submarine monitor?
What cuirass, however thick, could withstand the blows of his spur?
No man could demand from him an account of his actions; God, if he believed in one--his conscience, if he had one--were the sole judges to whom he was answerable.
These reflections crossed my mind rapidly, whilst the stranger personage was silent, absorbed, and as if wrapped up in himself.

I regarded him with fear mingled with interest, as, doubtless, OEdiphus regarded the Sphinx.
After rather a long silence, the commander resumed the conversation.
"I have hesitated," said he, "but I have thought that my interest might be reconciled with that pity to which every human being has a right.
You will remain on board my vessel, since fate has cast you there.

You will be free; and, in exchange for this liberty, I shall only impose one single condition.