A Winter Amid the Ice by Jules Verne

Contents

DOCTOR OX'S EXPERIMENT

CHAPTER I.
How it is useless to seek, even on the best maps, for the small town of Quiquendone

CHAPTER II.
In which the Burgomaster Van Tricasse and the Counsellor Niklausse consult about the affairs of the town

CHAPTER III.
In which the Commissary Passauf enters as noisily as unexpectedly

CHAPTER IV.
In which Doctor Ox reveals himself as a physiologist of the first rank, and as an audacious experimentalist

CHAPTER V.
In which the burgomaster and the counsellor pay a visit to Doctor Ox, and what follows

CHAPTER VI.
In which Frantz Niklausse and Suzel Van Tricasse form certain projects for the future

CHAPTER VII.
In which the Andantes become Allegros, and the Allegros Vivaces

CHAPTER VIII.
In which the ancient and solemn German waltz becomes a whirlwind

CHAPTER IX.
In which Doctor Ox and Ygène, his assistant, say a few words

CHAPTER X.
In which it will be seen that the epidemic invades the entire town, and what effect it produces

CHAPTER XI.
In which the Quiquendonians adopt a heroic resolution

CHAPTER XII.
In which Ygène, the assistant, gives a reasonable piece of advice, which is eagerly rejected by Doctor Ox

CHAPTER XIII.
In which it is once more proved that by taking high ground all human littlenesses may be overlooked

CHAPTER XIV.
In which matters go so far that the inhabitants of Quiquendone, the reader, and even the author, demand an immediate dénouement

CHAPTER XV.
In which the dénouement takes place

CHAPTER XVI.
In which the intelligent reader sees that he has guessed correctly, despite all the author's precautions

CHAPTER XVII.
In which Doctor Ox's theory is explained

MASTER ZACHARIUS.

CHAPTER I.
A winter night

CHAPTER II.
The pride of science

CHAPTER III.
A strange visit

CHAPTER IV.
The Church of St. Pierre

CHAPTER V.
The hour of death

A DRAMA IN THE AIR

A WINTER AMID THE ICE

CHAPTER I.
The black flag

CHAPTER II.
Jean Cornbutte's project

CHAPTER III.
A ray of hope

CHAPTER IV.
In the passes

CHAPTER V.
Liverpool Island

CHAPTER VI.
The quaking of the ice

CHAPTER VII.
Settling for the winter

CHAPTER VIII.
Plan of the explorations

CHAPTER IX.
The house of snow

CHAPTER X.
Buried alive

CHAPTER XI.
A cloud of smoke

CHAPTER XII.
The return to the ship

CHAPTER XIII.
The two rivals

CHAPTER XIV.
Distress

CHAPTER XV.
The white bears

CHAPTER XVI.
Conclusion

ASCENT OF MONT BLANC

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

She handed her father a pipe
The worthy Madame Brigitte Van Tricasse had now her second husband
"I have just come from Dr. Ox's"
"It is in the interests of science"
"The workmen, whom we have had to choose in Quiquendone, are not very expeditious"
The young girl took the line
"Good-bye, Frantz," said Suzel
Fiovaranti had been achieving a brilliant success in "Les Huguenots"
They hustle each other to get out
It was no longer a waltz
It required two persons to eat a strawberry
"To Virgamen! to Virgamen!"
"A burgomaster's place is in the front rank"
The two friends, arm in arm
The whole army of Quiquendone fell to the earth
He would raise the trap-door constructed in the floor of his workshop
The young girl prayed
"Thou wilt see that I have discovered the secrets of existence".
"Father, what is the matter?"
Then he resumed, in an ironical tone
From morning till night discontented purchasers besieged the house
This proud old man remained motionless
"It is there--there!"
"See this man,--he is Time"
He was dead
"Monsieur, I salute you"
"Monsieur!" cried I, in a rage
"He continued his observations for seven or eight hours with General Morlot"
"The balloon became less and less inflated"
"Zambecarri fell, and was killed!"
The madman disappeared in space
"Monsieur the curè," said he, "stop a moment, if you please"
André Vasling, the mate, apprised Jean Cornbutte of the dreadful event
A soft voice said in his ear, "Have good courage, uncle"
André Vasling showed himself more attentive than ever
On the 12th September the sea consisted of one solid plain
They found themselves in a most perilous position, for an icequake had occurred
Map in hand, he clearly explained their situation
The caravan set out
"Thirty-two degrees below zero!"
Despair and determination were struggling in his rough features for the mastery
It was Louis Cornbutte
Penellan advanced towards the Norwegians
Marie begged Vasling on her knees to produce the lemons, but he did not reply
Marie rose with cries of despair, and hurried to the bed of old Jean Cornbutte
The bear, having descended from the mast, had fallen on the two men
The old curè received Louis Cornbutte and Marie
View of Mont Blanc from the Brevent
View of Bossons glacier, near the Grands-Mulets
Passage of the Bossons Glacier
Crevasse and bridge
View of the "Seracs"
View of "Seracs"
Passage of the "Junction"
Hut at the Grands-Mulets
View of Mont Blanc from Grands-Mulets
Crossing the plateau
Summit of Mont Blanc
Grands-Mulets:--Party descending from the hut

DOCTOR OX'S EXPERIMENT.

CHAPTER I.

HOW IT IS USELESS TO SEEK, EVEN ON THE BEST MAPS, FOR THE SMALL TOWN OF QUIQUENDONE.

If you try to find, on any map of Flanders, ancient or modern, the small town of Quiquendone, probably you will not succeed. Is Quiquendone, then, one of those towns which have disappeared? No. A town of the future? By no means. It exists in spite of geographies, and has done so for some eight or nine hundred years. It even numbers two thousand three hundred and ninety-three souls, allowing one soul to each inhabitant. It is situated thirteen and a half kilometres north-west of Oudenarde, and fifteen and a quarter kilometres south-east of Bruges, in the heart of Flanders. The Vaar, a small tributary of the Scheldt, passes beneath its three bridges, which are still covered with a quaint mediæval roof, like that at Tournay. An old château is to be seen there, the first stone of which was laid so long ago as 1197, by Count Baldwin, afterwards Emperor of Constantinople; and there is a Town Hall, with Gothic windows, crowned by a chaplet of battlements, and surrounded by a turreted belfry, which rises three hundred and fifty-seven feet above the soil. Every hour you may hear there a chime of five octaves, a veritable aerial piano, the renown of which surpasses that of the famous chimes of Bruges. Strangers--if any ever come to Quiquendone--do not quit the curious old town until they have visited its "Stadtholder's Hall", adorned by a full-length portrait of William of Nassau, by Brandon; the loft of the Church of Saint Magloire, a masterpiece of sixteenth century architecture; the cast-iron well in the spacious Place Saint Ernuph, the admirable ornamentation of which is attributed to the artist-blacksmith, Quentin Metsys; the tomb formerly erected to Mary of Burgundy, daughter of Charles the Bold, who now reposes in the Church of Notre Dame at Bruges; and so on. The principal industry of Quiquendone is the manufacture of whipped creams and barley-sugar on a large scale. It has been governed by the Van Tricasses, from father to son, for several centuries. And yet Quiquendone is not on the map of Flanders! Have the geographers forgotten it, or is it an intentional omission? That I cannot tell; but Quiquendone really exists; with its narrow streets, its fortified walls, its Spanish-looking houses, its market, and its burgomaster--so much so, that it has recently been the theatre of some surprising phenomena, as extraordinary and incredible as they are true, which are to be recounted in the present narration.

Surely there is nothing to be said or thought against the Flemings of Western Flanders. They are a well-to-do folk, wise, prudent, sociable, with even tempers, hospitable, perhaps a little heavy in conversation as in mind; but this does not explain why one of the most interesting towns of their district has yet to appear on modern maps.

This omission is certainly to be regretted. If only history, or in default of history the chronicles, or in default of chronicles the traditions of the country, made mention of Quiquendone! But no; neither atlases, guides, nor itineraries speak of it. M. Joanne himself, that energetic hunter after small towns, says not a word of it. It might be readily conceived that this silence would injure the commerce, the industries, of the town. But let us hasten to add that Quiquendone has neither industry nor commerce, and that it does very well without them. Its barley-sugar and whipped cream are consumed on the spot; none is exported. In short, the Quiquendonians have no need of anybody. Their desires are limited, their existence is a modest one; they are calm, moderate, phlegmatic--in a word, they are Flemings; such as are still to be met with sometimes between the Scheldt and the North Sea.

CHAPTER II.

IN WHICH THE BURGOMASTER VAN TRICASSE AND THE COUNSELLOR NIKLAUSSE CONSULT ABOUT THE AFFAIRS OF THE TOWN.

"You think so?" asked the burgomaster.

"I--think so," replied the counsellor, after some minutes of silence.

"You see, we must not act hastily," resumed the burgomaster.

"We have been talking over this grave matter for ten years," replied the Counsellor Niklausse, "and I confess to you, my worthy Van Tricasse, that I cannot yet take it upon myself to come to a decision."

"I quite understand your hesitation," said the burgomaster, who did not speak until after a good quarter of an hour of reflection, "I quite understand it, and I fully share it. We shall do wisely to decide upon nothing without a more careful examination of the question."

"It is certain," replied Niklausse, "that this post of civil commissary is useless in so peaceful a town as Quiquendone."

"Our predecessor," said Van Tricasse gravely, "our predecessor never said, never would have dared to say, that anything is certain. Every affirmation is subject to awkward qualifications."

The counsellor nodded his head slowly in token of assent; then he remained silent for nearly half an hour. After this lapse of time, during which neither the counsellor nor the burgomaster moved so much as a finger, Niklausse asked Van Tricasse whether his predecessor--of some twenty years before--had not thought of suppressing this office of civil commissary, which each year cost the town of Quiquendone the sum of thirteen hundred and seventy-five francs and some centimes.

"I believe he did," replied the burgomaster, carrying his hand with majestic deliberation to his ample brow; "but the worthy man died without having dared to make up his mind, either as to this or any other administrative measure. He was a sage. Why should I not do as he did?"

Counsellor Niklausse was incapable of originating any objection to the burgomaster's opinion.

"The man who dies," added Van Tricasse solemnly, "without ever having decided upon anything during his life, has very nearly attained to perfection."

This said, the burgomaster pressed a bell with the end of his little finger, which gave forth a muffled sound, which seemed less a sound than a sigh.