"I don’t know," he answered, "there is no reason except a strange apprehension that comes over me sometimes lest we have an accident. We seem so far from all we know." "I thought you had every confidence." "So I have. The truth is I am excited. We are on the verge of an astounding discovery, I am dead sure that Merrick is right, and that I am right—but hush—do not ask me yet. I do not want to unnerve you. A little later!" "You unnerve me a great deal more by not telling me than by telling me. What is it?" But he was quiet; with his glasses trained carefully on the objects ahead. At the end of two hours more we appeared only a trifle nearer the columns, although we were undoubtedly seventy miles closer than when first sighted. Torrence was growing nervous. He walked the deck, chewing his cigar. Presently he stopped, and said: "I can’t stand it. I’m going to give her five miles an hour more," and moved up the controller accordingly. We were now moving at the rate of five and thirty miles an hour, but even at this rapid pace, it was three good hours before we could decide with any certainty the nature of the columns; and then we saw that they were twin mountains of extraordinary height, rising out of the sea. In another hour they were much more distinct, though still very far, and I was at a loss to account for our having seen them at so great a distance at first, except upon the ground of the many singular effects of light and atmosphere which we encountered. Among these was a strange indefiniteness about the horizon, totally differing from the prevailing conditions in other parts of the world. The sky-line blended with the heavens in a kind of atmospheric veil, self-luminous, and illusive. The effect was altogether pleasing, though entirely novel. Occasionally the clouds would be rosy as after sunset, which I again attributed to some electrical condition of the air, possibly the aurora, which, had it been the Arctic night instead of day, I imagined would have made a wonderful display. But this was purely hypothetical on my part, and when I suggested it to Torrence, he looked at me with surprise and said: "Night! There is no night here!" "Not now," I replied; "but six months hence there will be." "Never!" said he; "there is never any night here. It is always as light as this!" I saw from his mood that it would be useless to argue, and so continued my investigation of the twin mountains, which had grown near enough to be easily inspected with the naked eye. Torrence calculated that they must, have been more than two hundred miles away when first seen.