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"Tomorrow be it," replied my uncle, with a deep sigh. The conversation ended by compliments on both sides. During the dinner my uncle had learned much as to the history of Arne Saknussemm, the reasons for his mysterious and hieroglyphical document. He also became aware that his host would not accompany him on his adventurous expedition, and that next day we should have a guide.
I did not notice it so much from the obscurity that reigned around us, as from the rage with which my uncle was devoured. I fully understood the reason, and again a glimpse of hope made my heart leap with joy. I will briefly explain the cause. Of the three openings which yawned beneath our steps, only one could have been followed by the adventurous Saknussemm.
I want to know how we are to get up again." "That is the least part of the business, and does not in any way trouble me. In the meantime, there is not an hour to lose. I am about to visit the public library. Very likely I may find there some manuscripts from the hand of Saknussemm. I shall be glad to consult them." "In the meanwhile," I replied, "I will take a walk through the town.
We felt violent shocks whenever we were borne heavily against the craggy projections. Yet these shocks were not very frequent, from which I concluded that the gully was widening. It was no doubt the same road that Saknussemm had taken; but instead of walking peaceably down it, as he had done, we were carrying a whole sea along with us.
He feasted his eyes upon M. Fridrikssen's face. "Well," he cried, "where are his works?" "His works, we have them not." "What not in Iceland?" "They are neither in Iceland nor anywhere else." "Why is that?" "Because Arne Saknussemm was persecuted for heresy, and in 1573 his books were burned by the hands of the common hangman." "Very good!
"No ten thousand times no," I cried, with extreme vivacity. "This huge lump of rock, in consequence of some singular concussion, or process, one of those magnetic phenomena which have so often shaken the terrestrial crust, has in some unexpected way closed up the passage. Many and many years have passed away since the return of Saknussemm, and the fall of this huge block of granite.
"Arne Saknussemm!" cried the Professor of Reykjavik; "you speak of one of the most distinguished scholars of the sixteenth century, of the great naturalist, the great alchemist, the great traveler." "Exactly so." "One of the most distinguished men connected with Icelandic science and literature." "As you say, sir " "A man illustrious above all." "Yes, sir, all this is true, but his works?"
I did not know this first from the appearances of nature, but I found it out by my uncle's impetuous wrath. I soon found out the cause, and hope dawned again in my heart. For this reason. Of the three ways open before us, one had been taken by Saknussemm.
This very phrase shows how particular Saknussemm is in his directions. The Sneffels mountain has many craters. He is careful therefore to point the exact one which is the highway into the Interior of the Earth. He lets us know, for this purpose, that about the end of the month of June, the shadow of Mount Scartaris falls upon the one crater. There can be no doubt about the matter."
We are right, then, in thinking that this is an unexpected obstacle, with which Saknussemm did not meet; and if we do not upset it in some way, we are unworthy of following in the footsteps of the great discoverer; and incapable of finding our way to the centre of the earth!" In this wild way I addressed my uncle.
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