Chapter 2 Chapter 2 The Mysterious Parchment

This study is like a museum.All the ore specimens are here, very neatly labeled, in the three classes of combustible, metallic, and rocky. How well I am familiar with these mineralogy stuff!I often don't play with children of my age, but appreciate and touch those graphite, coal, black coal, wood coal, earth coal!And those asphalt, rosin, and organic salts, they can't be stained with a little dust!And those metallic ores, from iron to gold, whose relative value is lost before the absolute equality of scientific specimens!And that big pile of rocks, heavy enough for a house like ours, plus an extra good house, that's just fine for me!

However, when I walked into this study, my heart was not on these treasures.My whole mind was concentrated on my uncle, who was sitting in the big Utrecht armchair with a book in his hand, studying it with admiration. "What a marvel, what a marvel!" he cried. What he said made me think that Professor Liedenbrock was also a bookworm in his spare time; but to him an old book is only valuable if it is hard to find or to read. "Well," he said to me, "have you not seen this book? It is a priceless treasure which I found this morning at the bookstall of the Jew Hevelius."

"That's great!" I replied pretending to be excited. Seriously, what's all the fuss about an old book?The cover and the spine of the book are both made of rough cowhide. The book is so old that it has turned yellow, and there is a bookmark that has changed color hanging down. At this time, the professor's shouts of surprise and joy did not stop. "Look," he said, asking and answering himself, "isn't it pretty? Yes, it's marvelous! Look at the binding! Is the book easy to open? Yes, on any page It won't move when you open it! Is it tightly closed? Yes, its cover is tightly closed with the inside pages, and no part will be opened. And its spine has not been cracked after six hundred years Ah, the binding of this book would make me proud too."

My uncle kept closing and opening this ancient book while he was talking to himself.I couldn't help asking him what the book was about, although I had no interest in it. "What's the name of this marvelous book?" I asked him with feigned interest, though my expression went a little too far. "This book?" my uncle replied excitedly. "It is the Chronicle of Snoor Thulesson, the famous Icelandic writer of the twelfth century. It is the chronicle of the Norse kings who ruled Iceland. " "Really?" I expressed interest. "Of course, it's translated into German?"

"Huh!" replied the professor enthusiastically, "translation! What use do I want your translation? What is translation! This is the original Icelandic, this wonderful language is rich and simple, and its grammatical structure is change. The most, and its vocabulary is also the most abundant!" "That's like German," I said happily. "Yes," my uncle shrugged his shoulders. "The only difference is that Icelandic, like Greek, has three genders, and like Latin, nouns can change." "Ah," I was a little surprised, "is the font in this book beautiful?"

"Type! What do you mean, silly Axel! What a fine type! Ah, you thought it was a printed book! But, foolish man, it's a manuscript, and it's Lu Niven's manuscript!..." "Runiven?" "Yeah, are you going to ask me the meaning of this noun now?" "I understand." I answered him in an unwilling tone. But my uncle ignored me, and went on talking, explaining things to me that I didn't understand, though I didn't want to hear them. "Runion," he said, "is a script that used to be used in Iceland, and, according to legend, was created by the ancient god Odin! Come and see, and admire, ignorant child, it is A font created in the mind of a god!"

I couldn't answer, I was really on the verge of falling down, and prostration would be a good answer for a god or an emperor, because then there would be no insult, but at that moment something broke our conversation.This is a stained parchment falling out of the book and falling to the floor. My uncle picked it up immediately, with understandable haste.An ancient document, hidden in an ancient book for an unknown number of years, is of course very precious to him. "What's this?" he cried. At the same time, he carefully spread out a small piece of parchment on the table, five inches long and three inches wide, on which some indecipherable spell-like characters were arranged horizontally.

The following is the original copy.I did my best to note these curious marks, for they were the words that set Professor Liedenbroek and his nephew on one of the most extraordinary journeys of the nineteenth century: The professor studied these lines for a few minutes, then pushed his glasses to his forehead: "This is the rune; it looks exactly like the one in the Snoll Tulleson manuscript! But... what do these words mean?" I think the rune was created by some scholars deliberately Difficult, so I was a little happy when I saw that my uncle couldn't read it either.But I saw that his fingers began to tremble, and very violently.

"This must be the ancient Icelandic script!" He gritted his teeth and said to himself. Professor Liedenbrock should also be able to recognize it, because he is a scholar who is proficient in various languages.He may not be proficient in the 2,000 languages ​​and 4,000 idioms on the earth, but he knows at least a large part of them.His impatience was of course evident in the face of this difficulty, and I was about to witness a scene when the little clock on the mantelpiece struck two o'clock. At the same time, the maid Marta opened the door of the room and announced, "Lunch is ready."

"What lunch, go to you!" my uncle yelled, "Go to you who cook and eat!" Marta ran away; I sprinted after me, unknowingly taking my usual seat in the dining room. I waited a while, but the professor didn't come, and for the first time, as far as I know, he gave up his lunch.How delicious the meal is this time!A coriander soup, a dish of ham and peppercorns, a dish of veal with sour plum marinade, beets with prawns marinated in sugar, and a Mosel to drink. But for a piece of old paper, he can't accept these things.As his faithful nephew, I thought I had to eat for myself as well as for him, and I did this conscientiously.

"I've never seen anything like this!" said the maid, Martha, "Professor Liedenbroek doesn't eat at the table." "It's unbelievable." "This shows that a major event is about to happen!" The old servant shook his head and said again. It doesn't seem to me that this means anything, except that my uncle will make a fuss when he finds out that his lunch has been eaten. I had just eaten the last of the shrimp when the professor's yelling made me stop admiring the beets.I jumped from the dining room to the study.

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