Chapter 10

CHAPTER X.

INTERESTING CONVERSATIONS WITH ICELANDIC SAVANTS

Dinner was ready. Professor Liedenbrock devoured his portionvoraciously, for his compulsory fast on board had converted hisstomach into a vast unfathomable gulf. There was nothing remarkablein the meal itself; but the hospitality of our host, more Danish thanIcelandic, reminded me of the heroes of old. It was evident that wewere more at home than he was himself.

The conversation was carried on in the vernacular tongue, which myuncle mixed with German and M. Fridrikssen with Latin for my benefit.It turned upon scientific questions as befits philosophers; butProfessor Liedenbrock was excessively reserved, and at every sentencespoke to me with his eyes, enjoining the most absolute silence uponour plans.

In the first place M. Fridrikssen wanted to know what success myuncle had had at the library.

"Your library! why there is nothing but a few tattered books uponalmost deserted shelves."

"Indeed!" replied M. Fridrikssen, "why we possess eight thousandvolumes, many of them valuable and scarce, works in the oldScandinavian language, and we have all the novelties that Copenhagensends us every year."

"Where do you keep your eight thousand volumes? For my part -"

"Oh, M. Liedenbrock, they are all over the country. In this icyregion we are fond of study. There is not a farmer nor a fishermanthat cannot read and does not read. Our principle is, that books,instead of growing mouldy behind an iron grating, should be worn outunder the eyes of many readers. Therefore, these volumes are passedfrom one to another, read over and over, referred to again and again;and it often happens that they find their way back to their shelvesonly after an absence of a year or two."

"And in the meantime," said my uncle rather spitefully, "strangers --"

"Well, what would you have? Foreigners have their libraries at home,and the first essential for labouring people is that they should beeducated. I repeat to you the love of reading runs in Icelandicblood. In 1816 we founded a prosperous literary society; learnedstrangers think themselves honoured in becoming members of it. Itpublishes books which educate our fellow-countrymen, and do thecountry great service. If you will consent to be a correspondingmember, Herr Liedenbrock, you will be giving us great pleasure."

My uncle, who had already joined about a hundred learned societies,accepted with a grace which evidently touched M. Fridrikssen.

"Now," said he, "will you be kind enough to tell me what books youhoped to find in our library and I may perhaps enable you to consultthem?"

My uncle's eyes and mine met. He hesitated. This direct question wentto the root of the matter. But after a moment's reflection he decidedon speaking.

"Monsieur Fridrikssen, I wished to know if amongst your ancient booksyou possessed any of the