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02 - The Mysterious Parchment - Journey to the Center of the Earth - Jules Verne · Classic Science Fiction Books

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  Chapter two, The Mysterious Parchment, I declare, cried my uncle, striking
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  the table fiercely with his fist. I declare to you it is runic and
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  contains some wonderful secret, which I must get at at any price. I
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  was about to reply when he stopped me. Sit down, He said,
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  quite fiercely, and write to my dictation. I obeyed. I will substitute,
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  he said, a letter of our alphabet for that of the runic.
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  We will then see what that will produce. Now begin and make no mistakes.
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  The dictation commenced with a following incomprehensible result. M m r n l
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  l s is ruel s e e c j d e s g t s
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  s m f u n t e I E f n e e d e
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  r k e k t comma s A m n A t r A t
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  e s s a O d r r n e m t n a e
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  I n u a e c t r r I l s a A t
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  v a A r dot n s c r c I e a a b
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  s c c d r m I e e U t u i'll f r
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  a n t U d T comma I A c o s E I B
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  O K E D I I Y scarcely giving me time to finish. My
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  uncle snatched the document from my hands and examined it with the most wrapped and
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  deep attention. I should like to know what it means, he said,
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  after a long period. I certainly could not tell him, nor did he
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  expect me to, his conversation being uniformly answered by himself. I declare,
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  it puts me in mind of a cryptograph, he cried, unless indeed the
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  letters have been written without any real meaning. And yet why takes so much
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  trouble? Who knows? But I may be on the verge of some great
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  discovery. My candid opinion was that it was all rubbish. But this opinion
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  I kept carefully to myself, as my uncle's showler was not pleasant to bear.
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  All this time he was comparing the book with a parchment. The manuscript
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  volume and the smaller document are written in different hands. He said. The
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  cryptograph is of much later date than the book. There is an undoubted proof
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  of the correct of my surmise, an irrefragable proof I took it to be.
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  The first letter is a double M, which was only added to the
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  Icelandic language in the twelfth century. This makes the parchment two hundred years posterior
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  to the volume. The circumstances appeared very probable and very logical, but it
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  was all surmise to me. To me, it appears probable that this sentence
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  was written by some owner of the book. Now who was the owner is
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  the next important question. Perhaps, by great good luck, it may be
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  written somewhere in the volume. With these words, Professor Hartwick took off his
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  spectacles, and, taking a powerful magnifying glass, examined the book carefully.
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  On the fly leaf was what appeared to be a blot of ink, but
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  on examination proved to be a line of writing, almost effaced by time.
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  This was what he sought, and after some considerable time he made out these
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  letters are in at Sargnosem. He cried, in a joyous and triumphant tone.
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  That is not only an Islandic name, but of a learned professor of
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  the sixteenth century, a celebrated alchemist. I bowed as a sign of respect.
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  These alchemists, he continued, havichena Bacon, Lully, Paracelsus were the
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  true, the only learned men of the day. They made surprising discoveries,
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  may not this SARGNOSEM nephew mine have hidden on this bit of parchment some astounding
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  invention. I believe the cryptograph to have a profound meaning, which I must
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  make out. My uncle walked about the room in a state of excitement,
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  almost impossible to describe. It may be so, Sir, I timidly observed.
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  But why conceal it from posterity? If it be a useful, a
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  worthy discovery? Why how should I know? Did not Galileo make a secret
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  of his discoveries in connection with Saturn? But we shall see. Until I
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  discover the meaning of this sentence, I will neither eat nor sleep, my
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  dear uncle, I began, Nor you neither, he added, I was
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  lucky I had taken double allowance that day in the first place, he continued,
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  there must be a clue to the meaning. If we could find that,
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  the rest would be easy enough. I began seriously to reflect the prospect
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  of going without food and sleep was not a promising one. So I determined
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  to do my best to solve the mystery. My uncle meanwhile went on with
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  his SOLILOQUI. The way to discover it is easy enough. In this document
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  there are one hundred and thirty two letters, giving seventy nine consonants to fifty
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  three vowels. This is about the proportion found in most Southern languages, the
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  idioms of the North being much more rich in consonants. We may confidently predict,
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  therefore, that we have to deal with a Southern dialect. Nothing could
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  be more logical, now, said Professor Hartwick. To trace the particular language
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  as Shakespeare says, that is the question, was my rather satirical reply.
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  This man, Sarknussm, he continued, was a very learned man. Now,
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  as he did not write in the language of his birthplace, he probably,
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  like most learned men of the sixteenth century, wrote in Latin. If,
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  however, I prove wrong in this case, we must try Spanish,
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  French, Italian, Greek, and even Hebrew. My own opinion, though,
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  is decidedly in favor of Latin. This proposition startled me. Latin was
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  my favorite study, and it seemed sacrilege to believe this Gibrish to belong to
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  the country of Virgil barbarious Latin in all probability, continued my uncle. But
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  still Latin, very probably, I replied. Not to contradict him, Let
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  us see into the matter, continued my uncle. Here you see we have
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  a series of one hundred and thirty two letters apparently thrown pellmell upon paper without
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  method or organization. There are words which are composed folly of consonants, such
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  as M, M, point, R, N, l s, others
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  which are nearly all vowels, the fifth, for instance, which is auntief
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  and one of the last orsabo. This appears an extraordinary combination. Probably weih
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  shall find that the phrase is arranged according to some mathematical plan. No doubt,
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  a certain sentence has been written out and then jumbled up, some plan
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  to which some figure is the clue. Now hurry to show your English wit.
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  What is that figure? I could give him no hint. My thoughts
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  were indeed far away. While he was speaking. I had caught sight of
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  the portrait of my cousin Gretchen, and was wondering when she would return.
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  We were affianced and loved one another very sincerely. But my uncle, who
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  never thought even of such sublunary matters, knew nothing of this. Without noticing
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  my abstraction, the professor began reading the puzzling cryptograph. All sorts of ways
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  according to some theory of his own. Presently rousing my wondering attention, he
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  dictated one precious attempt to me. I mildly handed it over to him.
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  It read as follows, m m E s s u n k A s
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  e n r A dot I c e f d o k dot s e
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  g n I t t A m u r t n e c e r
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  t s E r r e t t E comma r O t a I
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  v s A d u A comma e d n e c s E d
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  s A d n e l A c A r t n I I I
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  l r j s I r A t r A c s a r b
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  m U t A b I l e d m E k m E r
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  e t A r c s I n l u c o y s l
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  e f f e n s n I do. I could scarcely keep from
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  laughing, while my uncle, on the contrary, got in a towering passion,
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  struck the table with his fist, darted out of the room, out
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  of the house, and then taking to his seals, was presently lost to
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  sight. End of Chapter two