“I think I can throw a light upon this subject,” said a person whom I had not before remarked. He was dressed like a sailor, and had a dreamy eye. “It is very clear to me where we are going. I have been taking observations for some time, and I am glad to announce that we are on the eve of achieving great fame; and I may add,” said he, modestly, “that my own good name for scientific acumen will be amply vindicated. Gentlemen, we are undoubtedly going into the Hole.”
“What hole is that?” asked M. le Baron Munchausen, a little contemptuously.
“Sir, it will make you more famous than you ever were before,” replied the first speaker, evidently much enraged.
“I am persuaded we are going into no such absurd place,” said the Baron, exasperated.
The sailor with the dreamy eye was fearfully angry. He drew himself up stiffly and said:
“Sir, you lie!”
M. le Baron Munchausen took it in very good part. He smiled and held out his hand:
“My friend,” said he, blandly, “that is precisely what I have always heard. I am glad you do me no more than justice. I fully assent to your theory: and your words constitute me the proper historiographer of the expedition. But tell me one thing, how soon, after getting into the Hole, do you think we shall get out?”
“The result will prove,” said the marine gentleman, handing the officer his card, upon which was written, Captain Symmes. The two gentlemen then walked aside; and the groups began to sway to and fro in the haze as if not quite contented.
“Good God,” said the pale youth, running up to me and clutching my arm, “I cannot go into any Hole alone with myself. I should die—I should kill myself. I thought somebody was on board, and I hoped you were he, who would steer us to the fountain of oblivion.”