All he could say was that the world was infinitely old and many things might have happened in it whereof we had no record.

Even Bastin was excited for a little while, but as his imagination was represented by zero, all he could say was: "I suppose someone left them there, and anyhow it doesn't matter much, does it ?" But I, who have certain leanings towards the ancient and mysterious, could not be put off in this fashion.

I remembered that unapproachable mountain in the midst of the lake and that on it appeared to be something which looked like ruins as seen from the top of the cliff through glasses.

At any rate this was a point, that I might clear up.
Saying nothing to anybody, one morning I slipped away and walked to the edge of the lake, a distance of five or six miles over rough country.
Having arrived there I perceived that the cone-shaped mountain in the centre, which was about a mile from the lake shore, was much larger than I had thought, quite three hundred feet high indeed, and with a very large circumference.

Further, its sides evidently once had been terraced, and it was on one of these broad terraces, half-way up and facing towards the rising sun, that the ruin-like remains were heaped.
I examined them through my glasses.