A Journey to the Centre of the Earth | Page 7

him."
I crossed my arms, looked another way and smoked--resolved never to speak.
When our cook wanted to go out to market, or on any other errand, she found the front
door locked and the key taken away. Was this done purposely or not? Surely Professor
Hardwigg did not intend the old woman and myself to become martyrs to his obstinate
will. Were we to be starved to death? A frightful recollection came to my mind. Once we
had fed on bits and scraps for a week while he sorted some curiosities. It gave me the
cramp even to think of it!
I wanted my breakfast, and I saw no way of getting it. Still my resolution held good. I
would starve rather than yield. But the cook began to take me seriously to task. What was
to be done? She could not go out; and I dared not.
My uncle continued counting and writing; his imagination seemed to have translated him
to the skies. He neither thought of eating nor drinking. In this way twelve o'clock came

round. I was hungry, and there was nothing in the house. The cook had eaten the last bit
of bread. This could not go on. It did, however, until two, when my sensations were
terrible. After all, I began to think the document very absurd. Perhaps it might only be a
gigantic hoax. Besides, some means would surely be found to keep my uncle back from
attempting any such absurd expedition. On the other hand, if he did attempt anything so
quixotic, I should not be compelled to accompany him. Another line of reasoning
partially decided me. Very likely he would make the discovery himself when I should
have suffered starvation for nothing. Under the influence of hunger this reasoning
appeared admirable. I determined to tell all.
The question now arose as to how it was to be done. I was still dwelling on the thought,
when he rose and put on his hat.
What! go out and lock us in? Never!
"Uncle," I began.
He did not appear even to hear me.
"Professor Hardwigg," I cried.
"What," he retorted, "did you speak?"
"How about the key?"
"What key--the key of the door?"
"No--of these horrible hieroglyphics?"
He looked at me from under his spectacles, and started at the odd expression of my face.
Rushing forward, he clutched me by the arm and keenly examined my countenance. His
very look was an interrogation.
I simply nodded.
With an incredulous shrug of the shoulders, he turned upon his heel. Undoubtedly he
thought I had gone mad.
"I have made a very important discovery."
His eyes flashed with excitement. His hand was lifted in a menacing attitude. For a
moment neither of us spoke. It is hard to say which was most excited.
"You don't mean to say that you have any idea of the meaning of the scrawl?"
"I do," was my desperate reply. "Look at the sentence as dictated by you."
"Well, but it means nothing," was the angry answer.

"Nothing if you read from left to right, but mark, if from right to left--"
"Backwards!" cried my uncle, in wild amazement. "Oh most cunning Saknussemm; and I
to be such a blockhead!"
He snatched up the document, gazed at it with haggard eye, and read it out as I had done.
It read as follows:
In Sneffels Yoculis craterem kem delibat umbra Scartaris Julii intra calendas
descende, audas viator, et terrestre centrum attinges. Kod feci. Arne Saknussemm
Which dog Latin being translated, reads as follows:
Descend into the crater of Yocul of Sneffels, which the shade of Scartaris caresses, before
the kalends of July, audacious traveler, and you will reach the centre of the earth. I did it.
ARNE SAKNUSSEMM
My uncle leaped three feet from the ground with joy. He looked radiant and handsome.
He rushed about the room wild with delight and satisfaction. He knocked over tables and
chairs. He threw his books about until at last, utterly exhausted, he fell into his armchair.
"What's o'clock?" he asked.
"About three."
"My dinner does not seem to have done me much good," he observed. "Let me have
something to eat. We can then start at once. Get my portmanteau ready."
"What for?"
"And your own," he continued. "We start at once."
My horror may be conceived. I resolved however to show no fear. Scientific reasons were
the only ones likely to influence my uncle. Now, there were many against this terrible
journey. The very idea of going down to the centre of the earth was simply absurd. I
determined therefore to argue the point after dinner.
My uncle's rage was now directed against the cook for having no dinner ready. My
explanation however satisfied him, and having gotten the key, she soon