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there are which remain to be studied. Without moving from where we sit,
I can show you one. Yonder 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, any time these five hundred years," was the ready reply.

"Well," said my uncle, who dug his nails into his flesh, and pressed his
knees tightly together to prevent himself leaping 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 portion of the conversation took place in Latin, and I therefore
understood all that had been said. I could scarcely keep my countenance
when I found my uncle so cunningly concealing his delight and
satisfaction. I must confess that his artful grimaces, put on to conceal
his happiness, made him look like a new Mephistopheles.

"Yes, yes," he continued, "your proposition delights me. I will endeavor
to climb to the summit of Sneffels, and, if possible, will descend into
its crater."

"I very much regret," continued M. Fridriksson, "that my occupation will
entirely preclude the possibility of my accompanying you. It would have
been both pleasurable and profitable if I could have spared the time."

"No, no, a thousand times no," cried my uncle. "I do not wish to disturb
the serenity 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 before everything."

In the innocence of his simple heart, our host did not perceive the
irony of these remarks.

"I entirely approve your project," continued the Icelander after some
further remarks. "It is a good idea to begin by examining this volcano.
You will make a harvest of curious observations. In the first place, how
do you propose to get to Sneffels?"

"By sea. I shall cross the bay. Of course that is the most rapid route."

"Of course. But still it cannot be done."

"Why?"

"We have not an available boat in all Reykjavik," replied the other.

"What is to be done?"

"You must go by land along the coast. It is longer, but much more
interesting."

"Then I must have a guide."

"Of course; and I have your very man."

"Somebody on whom I can depend."

"Yes, an inhabitant of the peninsula on which Sneffels is situated. He
is a very shrewd and worthy man, with whom you will be pleased. He
speaks Danish like a Dane."

"When can I see him--today?"

"No, tomorrow; he will not be here before."

"Tomorrow be it," replied my uncle, with a deep sigh.

The conversation ended by compliments on both sides. During the dinner
my uncle had learned much as to the history of Arne Saknussemm, the
reasons for his mysterious and hieroglyphical document.

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