I then learned, for the first time, that my providential fall had brought me to the bottom of an almost perpendicular gallery. As I came down, amidst a perfect shower of stones, the least of which falling on me would have crushed me to death, they came to the conclusion that I had carried with me an entire dislocated rock. Riding as it were on this terrible chariot, I was cast headlong into my uncle's arms. And into them I fell, insensible and covered with blood. "It is indeed a miracle," was the Professor's final remark, "that you were not killed a thousand times over. But let us take care never to separate; for surely we should risk never meeting again." "Let us take care never again to separate." These words fell with a sort of chill upon my heart. The journey, then, was not over. I looked at my uncle with surprise and astonishment. My uncle, after an instant's examination of my countenance, said: "What is the matter, Harry?" "I want to ask you a very serious question. You say that I am all right in health?" "Certainly you are." "And all my limbs are sound and capable of new exertion?" I asked. "Most undoubtedly." "But what about my head?" was my next anxious question. "Well, your head, except that you have one or two contusions, is exactly where it ought to be--on your shoulders," said my uncle, laughing. "Well, my own opinion is that my head is not exactly right. In fact, I believe myself slightly delirious." "What makes you think so?" "I will explain why I fancy I have lost my senses," I cried. "Have we not returned to the surface of Mother Earth?" "Certainly not." "Then truly I must be mad, for do I not see the light of day? do I not hear the whistling of the wind? and can I not distinguish the wash of a great sea?" "And that is all that makes you uneasy?" said my uncle, with a smile. "Can you explain?" "I will not make any attempt to explain; for the whole matter is utterly inexplicable. But you shall see and judge for yourself. You will then find that geological science is as yet in its infancy--and that we are doomed to enlighten the world." "Let us advance, then," I cried eagerly, no longer able to restrain my curiosity. "Wait a moment, my dear Harry," he responded; "you must take precautions after your illness before going into the open air." "The open air?" "Yes, my boy. I have to warn you that the wind is rather violent--and I have no wish for you to expose yourself without necessary precautions." "But I beg to assure you that I am perfectly recovered from my illness." "Have just a little patience, my boy. A relapse would be inconvenient to all parties. We have no time to lose--as our approaching sea voyage may be of long duration." "Sea voyage?" I cried, more bewildered than ever. "Yes. You must take another day's rest, and we shall be ready to go on board by tomorrow," replied my uncle, with a peculiar smile. "Go on board!" The words utterly astonished me.