“Down into the centre of the earth, possibly,” and the handsome Englishman moved a stool to the table and took the glass of green-colored wine that Johnston pushed toward him. “Some scientists hold that the earth is filled with water instead of fire. Who knows where this blamed thing may not take us? Here is to a safe return from the amphibious land!” Both drank their wine simultaneously, lowered their glasses at the same instant, and gazed into each other's eyes. “Did you ever taste such liquor?” asked Thorndyke, “it seems to run like streams of fire through every vein I have.” Johnston shook his head mutely, and held the sparkling effervescing fluid between him and the light. “Ugh! take it down,” cried the Englishman, “it throws a green color on your face that makes you look like a corpse.” Johnston clinked the glass against that of his companion and they drained the glasses. “Hush, what was that?” asked Thorndyke. There was a sound like boiling water outside and as if air were being pumped out of some receptacle, and the vessel began to move up and down in a lithe sort of fashion and to bend tortuously from side to side like a great sluggish fish. Through the partitions of glass they saw one of the men closing the door, and in a moment the vessel glided away from the shore. The men all sank into easy positions on the couches, and delightful music as soft as an Aeolian lyre seemed to be breathed from the walls and floor. Then the music seemed to die away and a bell down in the vessel's hull rang. “We are in the middle of the lake,” said Thorndyke, looking through the glass toward the black cliffy shore; “the next thing will be our descent. I wonder----” But he was unable to proceed, and Johnston noticed in alarm that his eyes were slightly protruding from their sockets. The air seemed suddenly to become more compact as if compressed, and the water was set into such violent commotion that it was dashed against the glass sides in billows as white as snow. Then Johnston found that he could not breathe freely, and he understood the trouble of the Englishman. Captain Tradmos came suddenly to the door. He was smiling as he motioned toward the wines on the table. “You had better drink more of the wine,” he advised sententiously. Both of the captives rushed to the table. The instant they had swallowed the wine they felt relieved, but were still weak. The captain bowed and went away. Thorndyke's hand trembled as he refilled his friend's glass. “I thought I was gone up,” he said, “I never had such a choky sensation in my life; you are still purple in the face.” “Eat of what is before you,” said the captain, looking in at the door; “you cannot stand the increasing pressure unless you do.” They needed no second invitation, for they were half-famished. The fish and meat were delicious, and the bread was delightfully sweet.