A Journey to the Interior of the Earth | Page 8

nothing about.
"Runic characters were in use in Iceland in former ages. They were
invented, it is said, by Odin himself. Look there, and wonder, impious
young man, and admire these letters, the invention of the Scandinavian
god!"
Well, well! not knowing what to say, I was going to prostrate myself
before this wonderful book, a way of answering equally pleasing to
gods and kings, and which has the advantage of never giving them any
embarrassment, when a little incident happened to divert conversation
into another channel.
This was the appearance of a dirty slip of parchment, which slipped out
of the volume and fell upon the floor.
My uncle pounced upon this shred with incredible avidity. An old

document, enclosed an immemorial time within the folds of this old
book, had for him an immeasurable value.
"What's this?" he cried.
And he laid out upon the table a piece of parchment, five inches by
three, and along which were traced certain mysterious characters.
Here is the exact facsimile. I think it important to let these strange signs
be publicly known, for they were the means of drawing on Professor
Liedenbrock and his nephew to undertake the most wonderful
expedition of the nineteenth century.
[Runic glyphs occur here]
The Professor mused a few moments over this series of characters; then
raising his spectacles he pronounced:
"These are Runic letters; they are exactly like those of the manuscript
of Snorre Turlleson. But, what on earth is their meaning?"
Runic letters appearing to my mind to be an invention of the learned to
mystify this poor world, I was not sorry to see my uncle suffering the
pangs of mystification. At least, so it seemed to me, judging from his
fingers, which were beginning to work with terrible energy.
"It is certainly old Icelandic," he muttered between his teeth.
And Professor Liedenbrock must have known, for he was
acknowledged to be quite a polyglot. Not that he could speak fluently
in the two thousand languages and twelve thousand dialects which are
spoken on the earth, but he knew at least his share of them.
So he was going, in the presence of this difficulty, to give way to all the
impetuosity of his character, and I was preparing for a violent outbreak,
when two o'clock struck by the little timepiece over the fireplace.
At that moment our good housekeeper Martha opened the study door,
saying:

"Dinner is ready!"
I am afraid he sent that soup to where it would boil away to nothing,
and Martha took to her heels for safety. I followed her, and hardly
knowing how I got there I found myself seated in my usual place.
I waited a few minutes. No Professor came. Never within my
remembrance had he missed the important ceremonial of dinner. And
yet what a good dinner it was! There was parsley soup, an omelette of
ham garnished with spiced sorrel, a fillet of veal with compote of
prunes; for dessert, crystallised fruit; the whole washed down with
sweet Moselle.
All this my uncle was going to sacrifice to a bit of old parchment. As
an affectionate and attentive nephew I considered it my duty to eat for
him as well as for myself, which I did conscientiously.
"I have never known such a thing," said Martha. "M. Liedenbrock is
not at table!"
"Who could have believed it?" I said, with my mouth full.
"Something serious is going to happen," said the servant, shaking her
head.
My opinion was, that nothing more serious would happen than an awful
scene when my uncle should have discovered that his dinner was
devoured. I had come to the last of the fruit when a very loud voice tore
me away from the pleasures of my dessert. With one spring I bounded
out of the dining-room into the study.
CHAPTER III.

THE RUNIC WRITING EXERCISES THE PROFESSOR
"Undoubtedly it is Runic," said the Professor, bending his brows; "but
there is a secret in it, and I mean to discover the key."

A violent gesture finished the sentence.
"Sit there," he added, holding out his fist towards the table. "Sit there,
and write."
I was seated in a trice.
"Now I will dictate to you every letter of our alphabet which
corresponds with each of these Icelandic characters. We will see what
that will give us. But, by St. Michael, if you should dare to deceive me
-"
The dictation commenced. I did my best. Every letter was given me one
after the other, with the following remarkable result:
mm.rnlls esrevel seecIde sgtssmf vnteief niedrke kt,samn atrateS
saodrrn emtnaeI nvaect rrilSa Atsaar .nvcrc ieaabs ccrmi eevtVl frAntv
dt,iac oseibo KediiI
[Redactor: In the original version the initial letter is an 'm' with a
superscore over it. It is my supposition that