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"It is excellent, but it is not tobacco."

"No!" answered the Captain, "this tobacco comes neither from Havannah
nor from the East. It is a kind of sea-weed, rich in nicotine,
with which the sea provides me, but somewhat sparingly."

At that moment Captain Nemo opened a door which stood opposite
to that by which I had entered the library, and I passed into
an immense drawing-room splendidly lighted.

It was a vast, four-sided room, thirty feet long, eighteen wide,
and fifteen high. A luminous ceiling, decorated with light arabesques,
shed a soft clear light over all the marvels accumulated in this museum.
For it was in fact a museum, in which an intelligent and prodigal hand
had gathered all the treasures of nature and art, with the artistic
confusion which distinguishes a painter's studio.

Thirty first-rate pictures, uniformly framed, separated by bright
drapery, ornamented the walls, which were hung with tapestry of severe
design. I saw works of great value, the greater part of which I had
admired in the special collections of Europe, and in the exhibitions of
paintings. The several schools of the old masters were represented by a
Madonna of Raphael, a Virgin of Leonardo da Vinci, a nymph of Corregio,
a woman of Titan, an Adoration of Veronese, an Assumption of Murillo, a
portrait of Holbein, a monk of Velasquez, a martyr of Ribera, a fair of
Rubens, two Flemish landscapes of Teniers, three little "genre" pictures
of Gerard Dow, Metsu, and Paul Potter, two specimens of Gericault and
Prudhon, and some sea-pieces of Backhuysen and Vernet. Amongst the
works of modern painters were pictures with the signatures of Delacroix,
Ingres, Decamps, Troyon, Meissonier, Daubigny, etc.; and some admirable
statues in marble and bronze, after the finest antique models, stood
upon pedestals in the corners of this magnificent museum. Amazement,
as the Captain of the Nautilus had predicted, had already begun to
take possession of me.

"Professor," said this strange man, "you must excuse the unceremonious
way in which I receive you, and the disorder of this room."

"Sir," I answered, "without seeking to know who you are,
I recognise in you an artist.

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