The Enemy To Be Starved Into Submission

: A Journey To The Interior Of The Earth

"He is gone!" cried Martha, running out of her kitchen at the noise

of the violent slamming of doors.



"Yes," I replied, "completely gone."



"Well; and how about his dinner?" said the old servant.



"He won't have any."



"And his supper?"



"He won't have any."



"What?" cried Martha, with clasped hands.



" o, my dear Martha, he will eat no more. No one in the house is to

eat anything at all. Uncle Liedenbrock is going to make us all fast

until he has succeeded in deciphering an undecipherable scrawl."



"Oh, my dear! must we then all die of hunger?"



I hardly dared to confess that, with so absolute a ruler as my uncle,

this fate was inevitable.



The old servant, visibly moved, returned to the kitchen, moaning

piteously.



When I was alone, I thought I would go and tell Grauben all about it.

But how should I be able to escape from the house? The Professor

might return at any moment. And suppose he called me? And suppose he

tackled me again with this logomachy, which might vainly have been

set before ancient Oedipus. And if I did not obey his call, who could

answer for what might happen?



The wisest course was to remain where I was. A mineralogist at

Besancon had just sent us a collection of siliceous nodules, which I

had to classify: so I set to work; I sorted, labelled, and arranged

in their own glass case all these hollow specimens, in the cavity of

each of which was a nest of little crystals.



But this work did not succeed in absorbing all my attention. That old

document kept working in my brain. My head throbbed with excitement,

and I felt an undefined uneasiness. I was possessed with a

presentiment of coming evil.



In an hour my nodules were all arranged upon successive shelves. Then

I dropped down into the old velvet arm-chair, my head thrown back and

my hands joined over it. I lighted my long crooked pipe, with a

painting on it of an idle-looking naiad; then I amused myself

watching the process of the conversion of the tobacco into carbon,

which was by slow degrees making my naiad into a negress. Now and

then I listened to hear whether a well-known step was on the stairs.

No. Where could my uncle be at that moment? I fancied him running

under the noble trees which line the road to Altona, gesticulating,

making shots with his cane, thrashing the long grass, cutting the

heads off the thistles, and disturbing the contemplative storks in

their peaceful solitude.



Would he return in triumph or in discouragement? Which would get the

upper hand, he or the secret? I was thus asking myself questions, and

mechanically taking between my fingers the sheet of paper

mysteriously disfigured with the incomprehensible succession of

letters I had written down; and I repeated to myself "What does it

all mean?"



I sought to group the letters so as to form words. Quite impossible!

When I put them together by twos, threes, fives or sixes, nothing

came of it but nonsense. To be sure the fourteenth, fifteenth and

sixteenth letters made the English word 'ice'; the eighty-third and

two following made 'sir'; and in the midst of the document, in the

second and third lines, I observed the words, "rots," "mutabile,"

"ira," "net," "atra."



"Come now," I thought, "these words seem to justify my uncle's view

about the language of the document. In the fourth line appeared the

word "luco", which means a sacred wood. It is true that in the third

line was the word "tabiled", which looked like Hebrew, and in the

last the purely French words "mer", "arc", "mere." "



All this was enough to drive a poor fellow crazy. Four different

languages in this ridiculous sentence! What connection could there

possibly be between such words as ice, sir, anger, cruel, sacred

wood, changeable, mother, bow, and sea? The first and the last might

have something to do with each other; it was not at all surprising

that in a document written in Iceland there should be mention of a

sea of ice; but it was quite another thing to get to the end of this

cryptogram with so small a clue. So I was struggling with an

insurmountable difficulty; my brain got heated, my eyes watered over

that sheet of paper; its hundred and thirty-two letters seemed to

flutter and fly around me like those motes of mingled light and

darkness which float in the air around the head when the blood is

rushing upwards with undue violence. I was a prey to a kind of

hallucination; I was stifling; I wanted air. Unconsciously I fanned

myself with the bit of paper, the back and front of which

successively came before my eyes. What was my surprise when, in one

of those rapid revolutions, at the moment when the back was turned to

me I thought I caught sight of the Latin words "craterem,"

"terrestre," and others.



A sudden light burst in upon me; these hints alone gave me the first

glimpse of the truth; I had discovered the key to the cipher. To read

the document, it would not even be necessary to read it through the

paper. Such as it was, just such as it had been dictated to me, so it

might be spelt out with ease. All those ingenious professorial

combinations were coming right. He was right as to the arrangement of

the letters; he was right as to the language. He had been within a

hair's breadth of reading this Latin document from end to end; but

that hair's breadth, chance had given it to me!



You may be sure I felt stirred up. My eyes were dim, I could scarcely

see. I had laid the paper upon the table. At a glance I could tell

the whole secret.



At last I became more calm. I made a wise resolve to walk twice round

the room quietly and settle my nerves, and then I returned into the

deep gulf of the huge armchair.



"Now I'll read it," I cried, after having well distended my lungs

with air.



I leaned over the table; I laid my finger successively upon every

letter; and without a pause, without one moment's hesitation, I read

off the whole sentence aloud.



Stupefaction! terror! I sat overwhelmed as if with a sudden deadly

blow. What! that which I read had actually, really been done! A

mortal man had had the audacity to penetrate! . . .



"Ah!" I cried, springing up. "But no! no! My uncle shall never know

it. He would insist upon doing it too. He would want to know all

about it. Ropes could not hold him, such a determined geologist as he

is! He would start, he would, in spite of everything and everybody,

and he would take me with him, and we should never get back. No,

never! never!"



My over-excitement was beyond all description.



"No! no! it shall not be," I declared energetically; "and as it is in

my power to prevent the knowledge of it coming into the mind of my

tyrant, I will do it. By dint of turning this document round and

round, he too might discover the key. I will destroy it."



There was a little fire left on the hearth. I seized not only the

paper but Saknussemm's parchment; with a feverish hand I was about to

fling it all upon the coals and utterly destroy and abolish this

dangerous secret, when the, study door opened, and my uncle appeared.