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Journey to the Center of the Earth
Chapter 7. Conversation and Discovery
When I returned, dinner was ready, this meal was eaten by my worthy relative with great eagerness and appetite.
His shipboard diet had turned his inside into a perfect gulf.
The meal, which was more Danish than Icelandic, was itself nothing special, but the generous hospitality of our host made us enjoy it twice as much.
The talk turned to scientific matters, and M.
Fridriksson asked my uncle what he thought of the public library.
"Library, sir?" cried my uncle.
"It seems to me a collection of useless odd volumes, and a poor number of empty shelves."
"What!" cried M.
Fridriksson. He smiled politely and then added some modest, respectful remarks.
"Why, we have eight thousand volumes of very rare and valuable works some in the Scandinavian language, besides all the new publications from Copenhagen."
"Eight thousand volumes, my dear sir why, where are they?" cried my uncle.
"Scattered over the country, Professor Hardwigg."
"We're very studious, my dear sir, though we do live in Iceland."
"Every farmer, every worker, every fisherman can both read and write."
"We think that books, instead of being locked up in cupboards far from the sight of students, should be shared as widely as possible."
"The books of our library are therefore passed from hand to hand without returning to the library shelves perhaps for years."
"Then when foreigners visit you, there's nothing for them to see?"
"Well, sir, foreigners have their own libraries, and our first thought is that our humbler classes should be well educated."
"Luckily, the love of study is in the Icelandic people."
"In 1816 we founded a Literary Society and Mechanics' Institute."
"Many foreign scholars of note are honorary members."
"We publish books to educate our people, and these books have given valuable service to our country."
"Allow me to have the honor Professor Hardwigg to enroll you as an honorary member?"
My uncle, who already belonged to nearly every literary and scientific institution in Europe, immediately agreed to the kind wishes of good M.
Fridriksson, smiling, thanked them politely and bowed before returning to his duties.
"And now," he said after many expressions of thanks and goodwill, "if you'll tell me what books you expected to find, perhaps I may be of some help to you."
I watched my uncle closely, noting every twitch of his face and sudden silence.
For a minute or two he hesitated, as if not wanting to speak, to speak openly was perhaps to reveal his plans.
Still, after some thought, he made up his mind.
"Well, M. Fridriksson,"
"He said in an easy, unconcerned way, "I wanted to find out if among your works you had any of Arne Saknussemm.
"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 in Icelandic science and literature."
"As you say sir"
"A man famous above all."
"Yes sir all this is true, but his works?"
"We have none of them."
"Not in Iceland?"
"There are none in Iceland or elsewhere," answered the other sadly.
"Why so?"
"Because Arne Saknussemm was accused of heresy, and in 1573 his works were publicly burned at Copenhagen by the hands of the common hangman."
"Very good capital!" murmured my uncle to the great surprise of the worthy Icelander.
"You said sir"
Yes, yes, all is clear, I see the link in the chain and everything is explained.
I now understand why Arne Saknussemm, shut out of court and forced to hide his discoveries, concealed the secret beneath an incomprehensible cryptograph.
"What secret?"
"A secret" stammered my uncle.
"Have you found some wonderful manuscript?" cried M.
Fridriksson, smiling, rose slowly and bowed politely to acknowledge the compliment.
"No no, I was carried away by my excitement. A mere guess."
"Very good sir. But really, to turn to another subject, I hope you won't leave our island without looking into its mineral riches."
"Well the truth is, I'm rather late. So many learned men have been here before me."
"Yes yes, but there's still a lot to do," cried M.
Fridriksson smiled and nodded thoughtfully, pleased to help with their plans.
"You think so," said my uncle, his eyes shining with hidden pleasure.
"Yes, you have no idea how many unknown mountains, glaciers, volcanoes there are that remain to be studied."
"Without moving from where we sit, I can show you one."
"Over there on the edge of the horizon, you see Sneffels."
"Oh yes Sneffels," said my uncle.
"One of the most curious volcanoes in existence, the crater of which has been rarely visited."
"Extinct?"
"Extinct for any time these five hundred years," was the quick reply.
"Well," said my uncle, who dug his nails into his flesh and pressed his knees tightly together to stop himself jumping up with joy.
"I have a great mind to begin my studies with an examination of the geological mysteries of this Mount Seffel Feisel what do you call it?"
"Sneffels my dear sir."
This part of the conversation took place in Latin, and I therefore understood all that had been said.
I could hardly keep my face when I found my uncle so cleverly hiding his delight and pleasure.
I must admit that his crafty grimaces, put on to hide his happiness, made him look like a new Mephistopheles.
"Yes yes," he continued, "your offer delights me. I'll try to climb to the top of Sneffels, and if possible will go down into its crater."
"I very much regret," continued M.
Fridriksson, "that my job will fully prevent the possibility of my going with you."
"It would have been both pleasant and useful if I could have spared the time."
"No no a thousand times no," cried my uncle.
"I don't want to disturb the peace of any man."
"I thank you however with all my heart."
"The presence of one so learned as yourself would no doubt have been most useful, but the duties of your office and profession come first."
In the innocence of his simple heart, our host didn't see the irony of these words.
"I totally approve your plan," continued the Icelander after some further remarks.
"It's a good idea to begin by studying this volcano."
"You'll make a harvest of curious observations."
"First of all how do you plan to get to Sneffels?"
"By sea. I'll cross the bay. Of course that's the fastest route."
"Of course. But still it can't be done."
"Why?"
"We don't have an available boat in all Reykjavik," replied the other.
"What's to be done?"
"You must go by land along the coast. It's longer, but much more interesting."
"Then I must have a guide."
"Of course and I have your very man."
"Somebody I can depend on."
"Yes an inhabitant of the peninsula on which Sneffels is located."
"He's a very clever and worthy man, with whom you'll be pleased."
"He speaks Danish like a Dane."
"When can I see him today?"
"No tomorrow he won't be here before."
"Tomorrow be it," replied my uncle with a deep sigh.
The conversation ended with compliments on both sides.
During the dinner my uncle had learned much about the history of Arne Saknussemm and the reasons for his mysterious and hieroglyphical document.
He also learned that his host wouldn't go with him on his risky expedition and that next day we'd have a guide.