They were now at work at the wall.I could hear a pickax.Wishing to escape all danger from this terrible weapon I made a desperate struggle,and the belt,which surrounded my waist and which had been hitched on a stone,gave way.I was free,and only escaped falling down by a rapid motion of my hands and knees.
In ten minutes more I was in my uncle's arms,after being two days and nights in that horrible prison.My occasional delirium prevented me from counting time.
I was weeks recovering from that awful starvation adventure;and yet what was that to the hideous sufferings I now endured?
After dreaming for some time,and thinking of this and other matters,I once more looked around me.We were still ascending with fearful rapidity.Every now and then the air appeared to check our respiration as it does that of aeronauts when the ascension of the balloon is too rapid.But if they feel a degree of cold in proportion to the elevation they attain in the atmosphere,we experienced quite a contrary effect.The heat began to increase in a most threatening and exceptional manner.I cannot tell exactly the mean,but I think it must have reached one hundred twenty-two degrees Fahrenheit.
What was the meaning of this extraordinary change in the temperature?As far as we had hitherto gone,facts had proved the theories of Davy and of Lidenbrock to be correct.Until now,all the peculiar conditions of refractory rocks,of electricity,of magnetism,had modified the general laws of nature,and had created for us a moderate temperature;for the theory of the central fire,remained,in my eyes,the only explainable one.
Were we,then,going to reach a position in which these phenomena were to be carried out in all their rigor,and in which the heat would reduce the rocks to a state of fusion?
Such was my not unnatural fear,and I did not conceal the fact from my uncle.My way of doing so might be cold and heartless,but Icould not help it.
"If we are not drowned,or smashed into pancakes,and if we do not die of starvation,we have the satisfaction of knowing that we must be burned alive."My uncle,in presence of this brusque attack,simply shrugged his shoulders,and resumed his reflections-whatever they might be.
An hour passed away,and except that there was a slight increase in the temperature no incident modified the situation.
My uncle at last,of his own accord,broke silence.
"Well,Henry,my boy,"he said,in a cheerful way,"we must make up our minds.""Make up our minds to what?"I asked,in considerable surprise.