THEY had been sleeping on a soft soil or decayed vegetable matter, the sight of which had drawn from M. Mifroid the remark that it was a good omen for the near future. Their travels up to the present had been without incident, except for some differences of opinion between them. The subterranean galleries, lit up by the electric lamps, were sometimes vast, sometimes straight, sometimes rounded out like the vault of a cathedral, then square and regular, and so narrow that they had to crawl on their knees to get through. They had by this time become silent, except for a remark or two upon the variety of the strata they were passing through. Here was rock, here clay, here sand, and so on.

It could not, however, last much longer. For forty-eight hours they had been walking, without coming across any water. M. Mifroid, however, hoped on, and we will soon see how justified he was. He hoped at least to come across some water or vegetation.

They estimated it to be about four o’clock in the afternoon, when ThÉophraste rose, and, tightening his belt, prepared to start on another tramp. This time he did not speak of his hunger or thirst, but walked on in that silence which weakness brings on men. They had been walking about an hour when it was noticed that the temperature had become much higher, and they both involuntarily took off their coats. Soon the perspiration began to pour off their foreheads, and they began to wonder how this change could have come about. Were they going toward the center of the earth? How could it be accounted for? In two hours the temperature had risen from 60 to 90 degrees Fahrenheit. M. Mifroid knew of some galleries 79 meters below the ground, but who could estimate what depth they were at now?

Their electric lamps spread their brilliancy around them as they advanced, now discussing the cause of this phenomenon. Suddenly the walls of the galleries spread out, and they found themselves in a cave of such large dimensions that even with their strong lights they could not see the farther ends. What was their joy and amazement when they found before them a beautiful lake, the banks of which were covered with a thick carpet of moss, and in the crystal transparency of which they saw fish with beautifully colored scales. The fish had no eyes, and did not appear timid. They disported themselves in the water, coming quite close to where the two astonished men stood. They could easily catch them by leaning over. A flock of ducks were swimming about in the enchanted water.

M. ThÉophraste wept with joy on seeing this wonderful sight, and cried out softly, for he was afraid of disturbing them: “My friend, what did I say? Isn’t this better than all earthly scenes?”

M. Mifroid felt somewhat humiliated at not knowing this before, but soon regained his influence over ThÉophraste, who was beginning to get excited over this wonderful sight. He made him sit down on the bank, so as not to frighten the ducks, and began explaining to him that what they saw was quite natural. He explained that it was caused by the soil, and that the water had collected here by the action of the heat.

ThÉophraste was for throwing himself into the water at once, and would have done so if they had not suddenly seen a sight which riveted them to the very ground. Neither of them spoke. Their tongues were paralyzed. Their electric light revealed, far ahead of them, but not far enough for them to lose a single detail, the figure of a woman. She was quite naked, and had her back toward them. Never before had they seen a form so elegant and so graceful.

This first view, however, lasted only an instant, for she threw herself into the water and swam away with the grace and ease of a swan.

The apparition had the effect of making them forget the ducks, and they both forgot the hunger which gnawed at their vitals. They had hoped that she would not vanish, and that their presence would remain unnoticed.

After several plunges, the nymph, shaking the pearly drops from her beautiful body into the sleeping waters, emerged not far away from where they stood, but always with her back turned.

What quarry of Carrara ever gave to the world more precious or purer a marble? By what miracle of the divine fires can we contemplate those lines of definitive beauty? It was the form of a Greek statue, and her arms were as graceful as one could wish to imagine on the Venus de Milo.

They waited in silence for her to turn around, while she disported herself on the green moss. Soon their curiosity was satisfied, and she suddenly turned. Neither of them could restrain a cry of horror, which made the Venus plunge back into the water. She had no eyes, and there was nothing in their place. Her ears, which were hidden from their sight by the profusion of hair, stood out like horns. But that which terrified them most was her enormous, snout-like red nose.

They had hardly recovered from their first surprise when another young female, clothed in a light tunic, came unexpectedly on the bank, holding in her arms a long gown. She also had a nose like the other, and no eyes.

The Venus came toward her companion on the bank, and the latter said: “They are silent now, and not saying a word.”

“Ha, Saint Mary, they shall have no pardon! They are traitors. Do you know what our people are doing? Go and find out; I want to know.” She spoke in the purest French of the fourteenth century, and the delicacy and sweetness of her voice was like the rippling water of a brook. The two men watched and listened in amazement. They stood still and stared before them. They felt that a great miracle was being wrought.

Suddenly they were surrounded by thirty or more men, who seemed to have come from out of the very rocks. They stood around them, gesticulating and talking vehemently, but in very low voices. They too had no eyes, but their ears were developed to a surprising size. On each of their hands they had ten fingers, and they had ten toes to each foot. As they came into the glare of the electric light, they held their hands up to their red snouts, as if they had smelled a disagreeable odor. They all mumbled in half-audible tones: “Lady Jane de Montfort, Demoiselle de Coucy,” and it was easy to see that they referred to the ladies who had been disturbed. As they passed they felt the faces of the two men. They just touched them lightly, and in doing so moved away in an apologetic way. It seemed as if they were curiosities. They felt their eyes, their noses, and their ears, and some of them even put their fingers down their ears. It was evident they could not understand the smallness of their features.

Then one of them addressed M. Mifroid, and while apologizing for their curiosity, said he was astonished at their want of beauty.

By this time Lady Jane de Montfort and Demoiselle de Coucy were dressed, and M. Mifroid and M. ThÉophraste were presented to them.

The two men begged a thousand pardons for their intrusion, and were about to explain their intrusion, when Demoiselle de Coucy took ThÉophraste by the arm, and Lady Jane took M. Mifroid, and they were conducted through the vaults surrounded by the crowd of men. It was difficult for them to prevent the men from poking their eyes out as they fumbled over their faces.

They had been forty-eight hours without food, and their hunger was extreme, and now they were to be taken away from where there was food.

The two women had taken possession of their lamps under the pretext of being troubled by the odor.

They tried to tell the people that they were exhausted, but so many questions were put to them that no opportunity presented itself.

They had by this time reached a large chamber. There was a dull light, and they felt the presence of thousands of people. M. Mifroid managed to get one of the lamps, and quickly pressing the button, lit up the vast hall, in which were crowded thousands of these weird men, all with the large noses and ears, but with no eyes. Some of them walked on all fours, and some had such long noses that they looked like pelicans.

Finally they were informed that they were at the entrance to the meeting hall.