Part 8 (1/2)

The dear girl only finished this sentence by blus.h.i.+ng. Her words revived me. Yet I refused to believe we should start. I drew Grauben into the Professor's study.

”Uncle, is it true that we are to go?”

”Why do you doubt?”

”Well, I don't doubt,” I said, not to vex him; ”but, I ask, what need is there to hurry?”

”Time, time, flying with irreparable rapidity.”

”But it is only the 16th May, and until the end of June--”

”What, you monument of ignorance! do you think you can get to Iceland in a couple of days? If you had not deserted me like a fool I should have taken you to the Copenhagen office, to Liffender & Co., and you would have learned then that there is only one trip every month from Copenhagen to Rejkiavik, on the 22nd.”

”Well?”

”Well, if we waited for the 22nd June we should be too late to see the shadow of Scartaris touch the crater of Sneffels. Therefore we must get to Copenhagen as fast as we can to secure our pa.s.sage. Go and pack up.”

There was no reply to this. I went up to my room. Grauben followed me. She undertook to pack up all things necessary for my voyage. She was no more moved than if I had been starting for a little trip to Lubeck or Heligoland. Her little hands moved without haste. She talked quietly. She supplied me with sensible reasons for our expedition. She delighted me, and yet I was angry with her. Now and then I felt I ought to break out into a pa.s.sion, but she took no notice and went on her way as methodically as ever.

Finally the last strap was buckled; I came downstairs. All that day the philosophical instrument makers and the electricians kept coming and going. Martha was distracted.

”Is master mad?” she asked.

I nodded my head.

”And is he going to take you with him?”

I nodded again.

”Where to?”

I pointed with my finger downward.

”Down into the cellar?” cried the old servant.

”No,” I said. ”Lower down than that.”

Night came. But I knew nothing about the lapse of time.

”To-morrow morning at six precisely,” my uncle decreed ”we start.”

At ten o'clock I fell upon my bed, a dead lump of inert matter. All through the night terror had hold of me. I spent it dreaming of abysses. I was a prey to delirium. I felt myself grasped by the Professor's sinewy hand, dragged along, hurled down, shattered into little bits. I dropped down unfathomable precipices with the accelerating velocity of bodies falling through s.p.a.ce. My life had become an endless fall. I awoke at five with shattered nerves, trembling and weary. I came downstairs. My uncle was at table, devouring his breakfast. I stared at him with horror and disgust. But dear Grauben was there; so I said nothing, and could eat nothing.

At half-past five there was a rattle of wheels outside. A large carriage was there to take us to the Altona railway station. It was soon piled up with my uncle's multifarious preparations.

”Where's your box?” he cried.

”It is ready,” I replied, with faltering voice.