"Ah!" said my uncle, as coolly as he was able, "is that Snæfell?"
"Yes; one of the most curious volcanoes, and the crater of which has scarcely ever been visited."
"Is it extinct?"
"Oh, yes; more than five hundred years."
"Well," replied my uncle, who was frantically locking his legs together to keep himself from jumping up in the air, "that is where I mean to begin my geological studies, there on that Seffel—Fessel—what do you call it?"
"Snæfell," replied the excellent M. Fridrikssen.
This part of the conversation was in Latin; I had understood every word of it, and I could hardly conceal my amusement at seeing my uncle trying to keep down the excitement and satisfaction which were brimming over in every limb and every feature. He tried hard to put on an innocent little expression of simplicity; but it looked like a diabolical grin.
[1] Recherche was sent out in 1835 by Admiral Duperré to learn the fate of the lost expedition of M. de Blosseville in the Lilloise which has never been heard of.
"Yes," said he, "your words decide me. We will try to scale that
Snæfell; perhaps even we may pursue our studies in its crater!"
"I am very sorry," said M. Fridrikssen, "that my engagements will not allow me to absent myself, or I would have accompanied you myself with both pleasure and profit."