“See if you can find any traces of the dog,” said the Minister. “I will clamber down into the quarry, and look there.”
“You will find nothing,” said Lambelle confidently.
There was but one path by which the bottom of the quarry could be reached. The Minister descended by this until he was out of sight of the man above; then he quickly uncorked the bottle, and allowed the fluid to drip along the narrowest part of the path which faced the burning sun. He corked the bottle, wiped it carefully with his handkerchief, which he rolled into a ball, and threw into the quarry. Coming up to the surface again, he said to the mild and benevolent scientist: “I cannot find a trace of the dog.”
“Nor can I,” said Lambelle. “Of course when you can hardly find a sign of the building it is not to be expected that there should be any remnants of the dog.”
“Suppose we get back to the hill now and have lunch,” said the Minister.
“Do you wish to try another experiment?”
“I would like to try one more after we have had something to eat. What would be the effect if you poured the whole bottleful into the quarry and set it off?”
“Oh, impossible!” cried Lambelle. “It would rend this whole part of the country to pieces. In fact, I am not sure that the shock would not be felt as far as Paris. With a very few drops I can shatter the whole quarry.”
“Well, we’ll try that after lunch. We have another dog left.”
When an hour had passed, Lambelle was anxious to try his quarry experiment.