tion, the
great central furnace sent forth its burning lava and poisonous vapors.
Each of these chimneys or shafts gaped open-mouthed in our path. I kept
as far away from them as possible, not even venturing to take the
faintest peep downwards.

As for the Professor, after a rapid examination of their disposition and
characteristics, he became breathless and panting. He ran from one to
the other like a delighted schoolboy, gesticulating wildly, and uttering
incomprehensible and disjointed phrases in all sorts of languages.

Hans, the guide, and his humbler companions seated themselves on some
piles of lava and looked silently on. They clearly took my uncle for a
lunatic; and--waited the result.

Suddenly the Professor uttered a wild, unearthly cry. At first I
imagined he had lost his footing, and was falling headlong into one of
the yawning gulfs. Nothing of the kind. I saw him, his arms spread out
to their widest extent, his legs stretched apart, standing upright
before an enormous pedestal, high enough and black enough to bear a
gigantic statue of Pluto. His attitude and mien were that of a man
utterly stupefied. But his stupefaction was speedily changed to the
wildest joy.

"Harry! Harry! come here!" he cried; "make haste--wonderful--wonderful!"

Unable to understand what he meant, I turned to obey his commands.
Neither Hans nor the other Icelanders moved a step.

"Look!" said the Professor, in something of the manner of the French
general, pointing out the pyramids to his army.

And fully partaking his stupefaction, if not his joy, I read on the
eastern side of the huge block of stone, the same characters, half eaten
away by the corrosive action of time, the name, to me a thousand times
accursed--

[Illustration: Runic Glyphs]

"Arne Saknussemm!" cried my uncle, "now, unbeliever, do you begin to
have faith?"

It was totally impossible for me to answer a single word. I went back to
my pile of lava, in a state of silent awe. The evidence was
unanswerable, overwhelming!

In a few moments, however, my thoughts were far away, back in my German
home, with Gretchen and the old cook. What would I have given for one of
my cousin's smiles, for one of the ancient domestic's omelettes, and for
my own feather bed!

How long I remained in this state I know not. All I can say is, that
when at last I raised my head from between my hands, there remained at
the bottom of the crater only myself, my uncle and Hans. The