"Jules Verne - In the Year 2889" - читать интересную книгу автора (Verne Jules)

loneliness.
"Pardon me, my dear, for having left you alone," he says through the
telephone.
"Dr. Wilkins is here."
"Ah, the good doctor!" remarks Mrs. Smith, her countenance lighting up.
"Yes. But, pray, when are you coming home?"
"This evening."
"Very well. Do you come by tube or by air-train?"
"Oh, by tube."
"Yes; and at what hour will you arrive?"
"About eleven, I suppose."
"Eleven by Centropolis time, you mean?"
"Yes."
"Goodbye, then, for a little while," says Mr. Smith as he severs
communication
with Paris.
Dinner over, Dr. Wilkins wishes to depart. "I shall expect you at ten," says
Mr.
Smith. "Today, it seems, is the day for the return to life of the famous Dr.
Faithburn. You did not think of it, I suppose. The awakening is to take place
here in my house. You must come and see. I shall depend on your being here."
"I will return," answers Dr. Wilkins.
Left alone, Mr. Smith busies himself with examining his accounts--a task of
vast
magnitude, the transactions involving a daily expenditure of over $800,000.
Fortunately, indeed, the stupendous progress of mechanic art in modern times
makes it comparatively easy. Thanks to the Piano Electro-Reckoner, the most
complex calculations can be made in a few seconds. In two hours Mr. Smith
completes his task--and just in time. Scarcely has he turned the last page
when
Dr. Wilkins arrives. After him comes Dr. Faithburn's body, escorted by a
numerous company of men of science. They commence work at once. The casket is
laid in the middle of the room, the telephote readied. The outer world,
already
notified, is anxiously expectant, for the whole world will witness the
performance. A reporter meanwhile, like the chorus in an ancient drama,
explains
it all viva voce through the telephone.


"They are opening the casket," he explains. "Now they are taking Faithburn
out--a veritable mummy, yellow, hard and dry. Strike the body and it resounds
like a block of wood. They are now applying heat; now electricity. No result.
These experiments are suspended for a moment while Dr. Wilkins makes an
examination of the body. Dr. Wilkins, rising, declares the man to be dead.
'Dead!' exclaims everyone present. 'Yes,' answers Dr. Wilkins, 'dead!' 'And
how
long has he been dead?' Dr. Wilkins makes another examination. 'A hundred
years,' he replies."
So it is. Faithburn is dead, quite certainly dead! "Here is a method that