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About the electronic version

Around the World in Eighty Days
Verne, Jules, 1828-1905

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http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/modeng/modeng0.browse.html

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1993
Note: Illustrations have been included from the George M. Towle, 1873
Porter & Coates edition.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
About the print version

Around the World in Eighty Days
Jules Verne

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Published: 1873

English fiction ; prose Young Readers Literature in Translation 24-bit
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January 1993 Kelly Tetterton
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                                 Chapter 1

    IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND PASSEPARTOUT ACCEPT EACH OTHER, THE ONE AS
                          MASTER, THE OTHER AS MAN

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Page 1


                                  [Image]

     Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington
Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most
noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid
attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was
known, except that he was a polished man of the world. People said that he
resembled Byron -- at least that his head was Byronic; but he was a
bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without growing
old.

     Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether
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Page 2

Phileas Fogg was a Londoner. He was never seen on 'Change, nor at the Bank,
nor in the counting-rooms of the "City"; no ships ever came into London
docks of which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never
been entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or
Lincoln's Inn, or Gray's Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court
of Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen's Bench, or the
Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he a
merchant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the scientific and
learned societies, and he never was known to take part in the sage
deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London Institution, the
Artisan's Association, or the Institution of Arts and Sciences. He
belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies which swarm in the
English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the Entomologists, founded
mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious insects.

     Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.

     The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club was simple
enough.

     He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an open credit.
His cheques were regularly paid at sight from his account current, which
was always flush.

     Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who
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Page 3

knew him best could not imagine how he had made his fortune, and Mr. Fogg
was the last person to whom to apply for the information. He was not
lavish, nor, on the contrary, avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money
was needed for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it
quietly and sometimes anonymously. He was, in short, the least
communicative of men. He talked very little, and seemed all the more
mysterious for his taciturn manner. His daily habits were quite open to
observation; but whatever he did was so exactly the same thing that he had
always done before, that the wits of the curious were fairly puzzled.

     Had he travelled? It was likely, for no one seemed to know the world
more familiarly; there was no spot so secluded that he did not appear to
have an intimate acquaintance with it. He often corrected, with a few clear
words, the thousand conjectures advanced by members of the club as to lost
and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true probabilities, and seeming
as if gifted with a sort of second sight, so often did events justify his
predictions. He must have travelled everywhere, at least in the spirit.

     It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg had not absented himself
from London for many years. Those who were honoured by a better
acquaintance with him than the rest, declared that nobody could pretend to
have ever seen him anywhere else. His sole pastimes were
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Page 4

reading the papers and playing whist. He often won at this game, which, as
a silent one, harmonised with his nature; but his winnings never went into
his purse, being reserved as a fund for his charities. Mr. Fogg played, not
to win, but for the sake of playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a
struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle,
congenial to his tastes.

     Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may
happen to the most honest people; either relatives or near friends, which
is certainly more unusual. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row,
whither none penetrated. A single domestic sufficed to serve him. He
breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours mathematically fixed, in the
same room, at the same table, never taking his meals with other members,
much less bringing a guest with him; and went home at exactly midnight,
only to retire at once to bed. He never used the cosy chambers which the
Reform provides for its favoured members. He passed ten hours out of the
twenty-four in Saville Row, either in sleeping or making his toilet. When
he chose to take a walk it was with a regular step in the entrance hall
with its mosaic flooring, or in the circular gallery with its dome
supported by twenty red porphyry Ionic columns, and illumined by blue
painted windows. When he breakfasted or dined all the resources of the club
-- its kitchens and pantries, its buttery and dairy -- aided to crowd his
table with their
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Page 5

most succulent stores; he was served by the gravest waiters, in dress
coats, and shoes with swan-skin soles, who proffered the viands in special
porcelain, and on the finest linen; club decanters, of a lost mould,
contained his sherry, his port, and his cinnamon-spiced claret; while his
beverages were refreshingly cooled with ice, brought at great cost from the
American lakes.

     If to live in this style is to be eccentric, it must be confessed that
there is something good in eccentricity.

     The mansion in Saville Row, though not sumptuous, was exceedingly
comfortable. The habits of its occupant were such as to demand but little
from the sole domestic, but Phileas Fogg required him to be almost
superhumanly prompt and regular. On this very 2nd of October he had
dismissed James Forster, because that luckless youth had brought him
shaving-water at eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit instead of eighty-six; and
he was awaiting his successor, who was due at the house between eleven and
half-past.

     Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his armchair, his feet close
together like those of a grenadier on parade, his hands resting on his
knees, his body straight, his head erect; he was steadily watching a
complicated clock which indicated the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the
days, the months, and the years. At exactly half-past eleven
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Page 6

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Mr. Fogg would, according to his daily habit, quit Saville Row, and repair
to the Reform.

     A rap at this moment sounded on the door of the cosy apartment where
Phileas Fogg was seated, and James Forster, the dismissed servant,
appeared.

     "The new servant," said he.

     A young man of thirty advanced and bowed.

     "You are a Frenchman, I believe," asked Phileas Fogg, "and your name
is John?"

     "Jean, if monsieur pleases," replied the newcomer, "Jean Passepartout,
a surname which has clung to me because I have a natural aptness for going
out of one business into another. I believe I'm honest, monsieur, but, to
be outspoken, I've had several trades. I've been an itinerant singer, a
circus-rider, when I used to vault like Leotard, and dance on a rope like
Blondin. Then I got to be a professor of gymnastics, so as to make better
use of my talents; and then I was a sergeant fireman at Paris, and assisted
at many a big fire. But I quitted France five years ago, and, wishing to
taste the sweets of domestic life, took service as a valet here in England.
Finding myself out of place, and hearing that Monsieur Phileas Fogg was the
most exact and settled gentleman in the United Kingdom, I have come to
monsieur in the hope of living with him a tranquil life, and forgetting
even the name of Passepartout."

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Page 7

     "Passepartout suits me," responded Mr. Fogg. "You are well recommended
to me; I hear a good report of you. You know my conditions?"

     "Yes, monsieur."

     "Good! What time is it?"

     "Twenty-two minutes after eleven," returned Passepartout, drawing an
enormous silver watch from the depths of his pocket.

     "You are too slow," said Mr. Fogg.

     "Pardon me, monsieur, it is impossible -- "

     "You are four minutes too slow. No matter; it's enough to mention the
error. Now from this moment, twenty-nine minutes after eleven, a.m., this
Wednesday, 2nd October, you are in my service."

     Phileas Fogg got up, took his hat in his left hand, put it on his head
with an automatic motion, and went off without a word.

     Passepartout heard the street door shut once; it was his new master
going out. He heard it shut again; it was his predecessor, James Forster,
departing in his turn. Passepartout remained alone in the house in Saville
Row.

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Page 8

                                 Chapter 2

   IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS CONVINCED THAT HE HAS AT LAST FOUND HIS IDEAL

     "Faith," muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, "I've seen people
at Madame Tussaud's as lively as my new master!"

     Madame Tussaud's "people," let it be said, are of wax, and are much
visited in London; speech is all that is wanting to make them human.

     During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been
carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years of age,
with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well-shaped figure; his hair and
whiskers were light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his face rather
pale, his teeth magnificent. His countenance possessed in the highest
degree what physiognomists call "repose in action," a quality of those who
act rather than talk. Calm and phlegmatic, with a clear eye, Mr. Fogg
seemed a perfect type of that English composure which Angelica
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Page 9

Kauffmann has so skilfully represented on canvas. Seen in the various
phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being perfectly
well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy chronometer. Phileas Fogg
was, indeed, exactitude personified, and this was betrayed even in the
expression of his very hands and feet; for in men, as well as in animals,
the limbs themselves are expressive of the passions.

     He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and
was economical alike of his steps and his motions. He never took one step
too many, and always went to his destination by the shortest cut; he made
no superfluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or agitated. He was
the most deliberate person in the world, yet always reached his destination
at the exact moment.

     He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social relation;
and as he knew that in this world account must be taken of friction, and
that friction retards, he never rubbed against anybody.

     As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris. Since he had
abandoned his own country for England, taking service as a valet, he had in
vain searched for a master after his own heart. Passepartout was by no
means one of those pert dunces depicted by MoliΦre with a bold gaze and a
nose held high in the air; he was an honest fellow, with a pleasant face,
lips a trifle protruding, soft-mannered and serviceable, with a good round
head, such
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Page 10

as one likes to see on the shoulders of a friend. His eyes were blue, his
complexion rubicund, his figure almost portly and well-built, his body
muscular, and his physical powers fully developed by the exercises of his
younger days. His brown hair was somewhat tumbled; for, while the ancient
sculptors are said to have known eighteen methods of arranging Minerva's
tresses, Passepartout was familiar with but one of dressing his own: three
strokes of a large-tooth comb completed his toilet.

     It would be rash to predict how Passepartout's lively nature would
agree with Mr. Fogg. It was impossible to tell whether the new servant
would turn out as absolutely methodical as his master required; experience
alone could solve the question. Passepartout had been a sort of vagrant in
his early years, and now yearned for repose; but so far he had failed to
find it, though he had already served in ten English houses. But he could
not take root in any of these; with chagrin, he found his masters
invariably whimsical and irregular, constantly running about the country,
or on the look-out for adventure. His last master, young Lord Longferry,
Member of Parliament, after passing his nights in the Haymarket taverns,
was too often brought home in the morning on policemen's shoulders.
Passepartout, desirous of respecting the gentleman whom he served, ventured
a mild remonstrance on such conduct; which, being ill-received, he took his
leave. Hearing that
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Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was one of
unbroken regularity, that he neither travelled nor stayed from home
overnight, he felt sure that this would be the place he was after. He
presented himself, and was accepted, as has been seen.

     At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself alone in the
house in Saville Row. He begun its inspection without delay, scouring it
from cellar to garret. So clean, well-arranged, solemn a mansion pleased
him ; it seemed to him like a snail's shell, lighted and warmed by gas,
which sufficed for both these purposes. When Passepartout reached the
second story he recognised at once the room which he was to inhabit, and he
was well satisfied with it. Electric bells and speaking-tubes afforded
communication with the lower stories; while on the mantel stood an electric
clock, precisely like that in Mr. Fogg's bedchamber, both beating the same
second at the same instant. "That's good, that'll do," said Passepartout to
himself.

     He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon
inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house. It
comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning,
exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he
left the house for the Reform Club -- all the details of service, the tea
and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the shaving-water at
thirty-seven minutes
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Page 12

past nine, and the toilet at twenty minutes before ten. Everything was
regulated and foreseen that was to be done from half-past eleven a.m. till
midnight, the hour at which the methodical gentleman retired.

     Mr. Fogg's wardrobe was amply supplied and in the best taste. Each
pair of trousers, coat, and vest bore a number, indicating the time of year
and season at which they were in turn to be laid out for wearing; and the
same system was applied to the master's shoes. In short, the house in
Saville Row, which must have been a very temple of disorder and unrest
under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was cosiness, comfort, and
method idealised. There was no study, nor were there books, which would
have been quite useless to Mr. Fogg; for at the Reform two libraries, one
of general literature and the other of law and politics, were at his
service. A moderate-sized safe stood in his bedroom, constructed so as to
defy fire as well as burglars; but Passepartout found neither arms nor
hunting weapons anywhere; everything betrayed the most tranquil and
peaceable habits.

     Having scrutinised the house from top to bottom, he rubbed his hands,
a broad smile overspread his features, and he said joyfully, "This is just
what I wanted! Ah, we shall get on together, Mr. Fogg and I! What a
domestic and regular gentleman! A real machine; well, I don't mind serving
a machine."

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                                 Chapter 3

IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH SEEMS LIKELY TO COST PHILEAS FOGG
                                    DEAR

     Phileas Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half-past eleven,
and having put his right foot before his left five hundred and seventy-five
times, and his left foot before his right five hundred and seventy-six
times, reached the Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall Mall, which
could not have cost less than three millions. He repaired at once to the
dining-room, the nine windows of which open upon a tasteful garden, where
the trees were already gilded with an autumn colouring; and took his place
at the habitual table, the cover of which had already been laid for him.
His breakfast consisted of a side-dish, a broiled fish with Reading sauce,
a scarlet slice of roast beef garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and
gooseberry tart, and a morsel of Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed
down with several cups of tea, for which the
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Reform is famous. He rose at thirteen minutes to one, and directed his
steps towards the large hall, a sumptuous apartment adorned with
lavishly-framed paintings. A flunkey handed him an uncut Times, which he
proceeded to cut with a skill which betrayed familiarity with this delicate
operation. The perusal of this paper absorbed Phileas Fogg until a quarter
before four, whilst the Standard, his next task, occupied him till the
dinner hour. Dinner passed as breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg re-appeared
in the reading-room and sat down to the Pall Mall at twenty minutes before
six. Half an hour later several members of the Reform came in and drew up
to the fireplace, where a coal fire was steadily burning. They were Mr.
Fogg's usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer; John Sullivan
and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a brewer; and Gauthier
Ralph, one of the Directors of the Bank of England -- all rich and highly
respectable personages, even in a club which comprises the princes of
English trade and finance.

     "Well, Ralph," said Thomas Flanagan, "what about that robbery?"

     "Oh," replied Stuart, "the Bank will lose the money."

     "On the contrary," broke in Ralph, "I hope we may put our hands on the
robber. Skilful detectives have been sent to all the principal ports of
America and the
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Continent, and he'll be a clever fellow if he slips through their fingers."

     "But have you got the robber's description?" asked Stuart.

     "In the first place, he is no robber at all," returned Ralph,
positively.

     "What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand pounds, no
robber?"

     "No."

     "Perhaps he's a manufacturer, then."

     "The Daily Telegraph says that he is a gentleman."

     It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from behind his
newspapers, who made this remark. He bowed to his friends, and entered into
the conversation. The affair which formed its subject, and which was town
talk, had occurred three days before at the Bank of England. A package of
banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been taken from
the principal cashier's table, that functionary being at the moment engaged
in registering the receipt of three shillings and sixpence. Of course, he
could not have his eyes everywhere. Let it be observed that the Bank of
England reposes a touching confidence in the honesty of the public. There
are neither guards nor gratings to protect its treasures; gold, silver,
banknotes are freely exposed, at the mercy of the first comer. A keen
observer of English customs relates that, being in
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Page 16

one of the rooms of the Bank one day, he had the curiosity to examine a
gold ingot weighing some seven or eight pounds. He took it up, scrutinised
it, passed it to his neighbour, he to the next man, and so on until the
ingot, going from hand to hand, was transferred to the end of a dark entry;
nor did it return to its place for half an hour. Meanwhile, the cashier had
not so much as raised his head. But in the present instance things had not
gone so smoothly. The package of notes not being found when five o'clock
sounded from the ponderous clock in the "drawing office," the amount was
passed to the account of profit and loss. As soon as the robbery was
discovered, picked detectives hastened off to Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre,
Suez, Brindisi, New York, and other ports, inspired by the proffered reward
of two thousand pounds, and five per cent. on the sum that might be
recovered. Detectives were also charged with narrowly watching those who
arrived at or left London by rail, and a judicial examination was at once
entered upon.

     There were real grounds for supposing, as the Daily Telegraph said,
that the thief did not belong to a professional band. On the day of the
robbery a well-dressed gentleman of polished manners, and with a well-to-do
air, had been observed going to and fro in the paying room where the crime
was committed. A description of him was easily procured and sent to the
detectives; and some hopeful
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spirits, of whom Ralph was one, did not despair of his apprehension. The
papers and clubs were full of the affair, and everywhere people were
discussing the probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club
was especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials.

     Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives was likely to
be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered would greatly stimulate
their zeal and activity. But Stuart was far from sharing this confidence;
and, as they placed themselves at the whist-table, they continued to argue
the matter. Stuart and Flanagan played together, while Phileas Fogg had
Fallentin for his partner. As the game proceeded the conversation ceased,
excepting between the rubbers, when it revived again.

     "I maintain," said Stuart, "that the chances are in favour of the
thief, who must be a shrewd fellow."

     "Well, but where can he fly to?" asked Ralph. "No country is safe for
him."

     "Pshaw!"

     "Where could he go, then?"

     "Oh, I don't know that. The world is big enough."

     "It was once," said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone. "Cut, sir," he added,
handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan.

     The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart took up its
thread.

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Page 18

     "What do you mean by `once'? Has the world grown smaller?"

     "Certainly," returned Ralph. "I agree with Mr. Fogg. The world has
grown smaller, since a man can now go round it ten times more quickly than
a hundred years ago. And that is why the search for this thief will be more
likely to succeed."

     "And also why the thief can get away more easily."

     "Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart," said Phileas Fogg.

     But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the hand was
finished, said eagerly: "You have a strange way, Ralph, of proving that the
world has grown smaller. So, because you can go round it in three months --
"

     "In eighty days," interrupted Phileas Fogg.

     "That is true, gentlemen," added John Sullivan. "Only eighty days, now
that the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the Great Indian
Peninsula Railway, has been opened. Here is the estimate made by the Daily
Telegraph:

*From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and Brindisi, by rail and steamboats
................. 7 days
*From Suez to Bombay, by steamer .................... 13 "
*From Bombay to Calcutta, by rail ................... 3 "
*From Calcutta to Hong Kong, by steamer ............. 13 "
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*From Hong Kong to Yokohama (Japan), by steamer ..... 6 "
*From Yokohama to San Francisco, by steamer ......... 22 "
*From San Francisco to New York, by rail ............. 7 "
*From New York to London, by steamer and rail ........ 9 "
*-- -
*Total ............................................ 80 days."

     "Yes, in eighty days!" exclaimed Stuart, who in his excitement made a
false deal. "But that doesn't take into account bad weather, contrary
winds, shipwrecks, railway accidents, and so on."

     "All included," returned Phileas Fogg, continuing to play despite the
discussion.

     "But suppose the Hindoos or Indians pull up the rails," replied
Stuart; "suppose they stop the trains, pillage the luggage-vans, and scalp
the passengers!"

     "All included," calmly retorted Fogg; adding, as he threw down the
cards, "Two trumps."

     Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered them up, and went on: "You
are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but practically -- "

     "Practically also, Mr. Stuart."

     "I'd like to see you do it in eighty days."

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Page 20

     "It depends on you. Shall we go?"

     "Heaven preserve me! But I would wager four thousand pounds that such
a journey, made under these conditions, is impossible."

     "Quite possible, on the contrary," returned Mr. Fogg.

     "Well, make it, then!"

     "The journey round the world in eighty days?"

     "Yes."

     "I should like nothing better."

     "When?"

     "At once. Only I warn you that I shall do it at your expense."

     "It's absurd!" cried Stuart, who was beginning to be annoyed at the
persistency of his friend. "Come, let's go on with the game."

     "Deal over again, then," said Phileas Fogg. "There's a false deal."

     Stuart took up the pack with a feverish hand; then suddenly put them
down again.

     "Well, Mr. Fogg," said he, "it shall be so: I will wager the four
thousand on it."

     "Calm yourself, my dear Stuart," said Fallentin. "It's only a joke."

     "When I say I'll wager," returned Stuart, "I mean it." "All right,"
said Mr. Fogg; and, turning to the others,
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Page 21

he continued: "I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring's which I will
willingly risk upon it."

     "Twenty thousand pounds!" cried Sullivan. "Twenty thousand pounds,
which you would lose by a single accidental delay!"

     "The unforeseen does not exist," quietly replied Phileas Fogg.

     "But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days are only the estimate of the least
possible time in which the journey can be made."

     "A well-used minimum suffices for everything."

     "But, in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathematically from the
trains upon the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains again."

     "I will jump -- mathematically."

     "You are joking."

     "A true Englishman doesn't joke when he is talking about so serious a
thing as a wager," replied Phileas Fogg, solemnly. "I will bet twenty
thousand pounds against anyone who wishes that I will make the tour of the
world in eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours, or a
hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes. Do you accept?"

     "We accept," replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan,
and Ralph, after consulting each other.

     "Good," said Mr. Fogg. "The train leaves for Dover at a quarter before
nine. I will take it."

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Page 22

     "This very evening?" asked Stuart.

     "This very evening," returned Phileas Fogg. He took out and consulted
a pocket almanac, and added, "As today is Wednesday, the 2nd of October, I
shall be due in London in this very room of the Reform Club, on Saturday,
the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine p.m.; or else the twenty
thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Baring's, will belong to you,
in fact and in right, gentlemen. Here is a cheque for the amount."

     A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and signed by the six
parties, during which Phileas Fogg preserved a stoical composure. He
certainly did not bet to win, and had only staked the twenty thousand
pounds, half of his fortune, because he foresaw that he might have to
expend the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say unattainable,
project. As for his antagonists, they seemed much agitated; not so much by
the value of their stake, as because they had some scruples about betting
under conditions so difficult to their friend.

     The clock struck seven, and the party offered to suspend the game so
that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations for departure.

     "I am quite ready now," was his tranquil response. "Diamonds are
trumps: be so good as to play, gentlemen."

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Page 23

                                 Chapter 4

          IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ASTOUNDS PASSEPARTOUT, HIS SERVANT

     Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends,
Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club.

     Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his
duties, was more than surprised to see his master guilty of the inexactness
of appearing at this unaccustomed hour; for, according to rule, he was not
due in Saville Row until precisely midnight.

     Mr. Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, "Passepartout!"

     Passepartout did not reply. It could not be he who was called; it was
not the right hour.

     "Passepartout!" repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his voice.

     Passepartout made his appearance.

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Page 24

     "I've called you twice," observed his master.

     "But it is not midnight," responded the other, showing his watch.

     "I know it; I don't blame you. We start for Dover and Calais in ten
minutes."

     A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout's round face; clearly he had
not comprehended his master.

     "Monsieur is going to leave home?"

     "Yes," returned Phileas Fogg. "We are going round the world."

     Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his
hands, and seemed about to collapse, so overcome was he with stupefied
astonishment.

     "Round the world!" he murmured.

     "In eighty days," responded Mr. Fogg. "So we haven't a moment to
lose."

     "But the trunks?" gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head
from right to left.

     "We'll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts and three
pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you. We'll buy our clothes on
the way. Bring down my mackintosh and traveling-cloak, and some stout
shoes, though we shall do little walking. Make haste!"

     Passepartout tried to reply, but could not. He went out, mounted to
his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered:
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Page 25

"That's good, that is! And I, who wanted to remain quiet!"

     He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure.
Around the world in eighty days! Was his master a fool? No. Was this a
joke, then? They were going to Dover; good! To Calais; good again! After
all, Passepartout, who had been away from France five years, would not be
sorry to set foot on his native soil again. Perhaps they would go as far as
Paris, and it would do his eyes good to see Paris once more. But surely a
gentleman so chary of his steps would stop there; no doubt -- but, then, it
was none the less true that he was going away, this so domestic person
hitherto!

     By eight o'clock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag,
containing the wardrobes of his master and himself; then, still troubled in
mind, he carefully shut the door of his room, and descended to Mr. Fogg.

     Mr. Fogg was quite ready. Under his arm might have been observed a
red-bound copy of Bradshaw's Continental Railway Steam Transit and General
Guide, with its timetables showing the arrival and departure of steamers
and railways. He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped into it a
goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass wherever he might
go.

     "You have forgotten nothing?" asked he.

     "Nothing, monsieur."

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Page 26

     "My mackintosh and cloak?"

     "Here they are."

     "Good! Take this carpet-bag," handing it to Passepartout. "Take good
care of it, for there are twenty thousand pounds in it."

     Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty thousand pounds
were in gold, and weighed him down.

     Master and man then descended, the street-door was double-locked, and
at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing
Cross. The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes past
eight. Passepartout jumped off the box and followed his master, who, after
paying the cabman, was about to enter the station, when a poor
beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, her naked feet smeared with mud,
her head covered with a wretched bonnet, from which hung a tattered
feather, and her shoulders shrouded in a ragged shawl, approached, and
mournfully asked for alms.

     Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won at whist, and
handed them to the beggar, saying, "Here, my good woman. I'm glad that I
met you"; and passed on.

     Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his master's action
touched his susceptible heart.

     Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily
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Page 27

purchased, Mr. Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he
perceived his five friends of the Reform.

     "Well, gentlemen," said he, "I'm off, you see; and, if you will
examine my passport when I get back, you will be able to judge whether I
have accomplished the journey agreed upon."

     "Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg," said Ralph politely.
"We will trust your word, as a gentleman of honour."

     "You do not forget when you are due in London again?" asked Stuart.

     "In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter
before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen."

     Phileas Fogg and his servant seated themselves in a first-class
carriage at twenty minutes before nine; five minutes later the whistle
screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the station.

     The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling. Phileas Fogg,
snugly ensconced in his corner, did not open his lips. Passepartout, not
yet recovered from his stupefaction, clung mechanically to the carpet-bag,
with its enormous treasure.

     Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly
uttered a cry of despair.

     "What's the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.

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Page 28

     "Alas! In my hurry -- I -- I forgot -- "

     "What?"

     "To turn off the gas in my room!"

     "Very well, young man," returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; "it will burn -- at
your expense."

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Page 29

                                 Chapter 5

  IN WHICH A NEW SPECIES OF FUNDS, UNKNOWN TO THE MONEYED MEN, APPEARS ON
                                  'CHANGE

     Phileas Fogg rightly suspected that his departure from London would
create a lively sensation at the West End. The news of the bet spread
through the Reform Club, and afforded an exciting topic of conversation to
its members. From the club it soon got into the papers throughout England.
The boasted "tour of the world" was talked about, disputed, argued with as
much warmth as if the subject were another Alabama claim. Some took sides
with Phileas Fogg, but the large majority shook their heads and declared
against him; it was absurd, impossible, they declared, that the tour of the
world could be made, except theoretically and on paper, in this minimum of
time, and with the existing means of travelling. The Times, Standard,
Morning Post, and Daily News, and twenty other highly respectable
newspapers scouted
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Page 30

Mr. Fogg's project as madness; the Daily Telegraph alone hesitatingly
supported him. People in general thought him a lunatic, and blamed his
Reform Club friends for having accepted a wager which betrayed the mental
aberration of its proposer.

     Articles no less passionate than logical appeared on the question, for
geography is one of the pet subjects of the English; and the columns
devoted to Phileas Fogg's venture were eagerly devoured by all classes of
readers. At first some rash individuals, principally of the gentler sex,
espoused his cause, which became still more popular when the Illustrated
London News came out with his portrait, copied from a photograph in the
Reform Club. A few readers of the Daily Telegraph even dared to say, "Why
not, after all? Stranger things have come to pass."

     At last a long article appeared, on the 7th of October, in the
bulletin of the Royal Geographical Society, which treated the question from
every point of view, and demonstrated the utter folly of the enterprise.

     Everything, it said, was against the travellers, every obstacle
imposed alike by man and by nature. A miraculous agreement of the times of
departure and arrival, which was impossible, was absolutely necessary to
his success. He might, perhaps, reckon on the arrival of trains at the
designated hours, in Europe, where the distances
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Page 31

were relatively moderate; but when he calculated upon crossing India in
three days, and the United States in seven, could he rely beyond misgiving
upon accomplishing his task? There were accidents to machinery, the
liability of trains to run off the line, collisions, bad weather, the
blocking up by snow -- were not all these against Phileas Fogg? Would he
not find himself, when travelling by steamer in winter, at the mercy of the
winds and fogs? Is it uncommon for the best ocean steamers to be two or
three days behind time? But a single delay would suffice to fatally break
the chain of communication; should Phileas Fogg once miss, even by an hour;
a steamer, he would have to wait for the next, and that would irrevocably
render his attempt vain.

     This article made a great deal of noise, and, being copied into all
the papers, seriously depressed the advocates of the rash tourist.

     Everybody knows that England is the world of betting men, who are of a
higher class than mere gamblers; to bet is in the English temperament. Not
only the members of the Reform, but the general public, made heavy wagers
for or against Phileas Fogg, who was set down in the betting books as if he
were a race-horse. Bonds were issued, and made their appearance on 'Change;
"Phileas Fogg bonds" were offered at par or at a premium, and a great
business was done in them. But five days after the article in the
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Page 32

bulletin of the Geographical Society appeared, the demand began to subside:
"Phileas Fogg" declined. They were offered by packages, at first of five,
then of ten, until at last nobody would take less than twenty, fifty, a
hundred!

     Lord Albemarle, an elderly paralytic gentleman, was now the only
advocate of Phileas Fogg left. This noble lord, who was fastened to his
chair, would have given his fortune to be able to make the tour of the
world, if it took ten years ; and he bet five thousand pounds on Phileas
Fogg. When the folly as well as the uselessness of the adventure was
pointed out to him, he contented himself with replying, "If the thing is
feasible, the first to do it ought to be an Englishman."

     The Fogg party dwindled more and more, everybody was going against
him, and the bets stood a hundred and fifty and two hundred to one; and a
week after his departure an incident occurred which deprived him of backers
at any price.

     The commissioner of police was sitting in his office at nine o'clock
one evening, when the following telegraphic dispatch was put into his
hands: Suez to London.
Rowan, Commissioner of Police, Scotland Yard:
I've found the bank robber, Phileas Fogg. Send with out delay warrant of
arrest to Bombay. Fix, Detective.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 33

     The effect of this dispatch was instantaneous. The polished gentleman
disappeared to give place to the bank robber. His photograph, which was
hung with those of the rest of the members at the Reform Club, was minutely
examined, and it betrayed, feature by feature, the description of the
robber which had been provided to the police. The mysterious habits of
Phileas Fogg were recalled; his solitary ways, his sudden departure; and it
seemed clear that, in undertaking a tour round the world on the pretext of
a wager, he had had no other end in view than to elude the detectives, and
throw them off his track.

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Page 34

                                 Chapter 6

       IN WHICH FIX, THE DETECTIVE, BETRAYS A VERY NATURAL IMPATIENCE

     The circumstances under which this telegraphic dispatch about Phileas
Fogg was sent were as follows:

     The steamer Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental
Company, built of iron, of two thousand eight hundred tons burden, and five
hundred horse-power, was due at eleven o'clock a.m. on Wednesday, the 9th
of October, at Suez. The Mongolia plied regularly between Brindisi and
Bombay via the Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest steamers belonging to
the company, always making more than ten knots an hour between Brindisi and
Suez, and nine and a half between Suez and Bombay.

     Two men were promenading up and down the wharves, among the crowd of
natives and strangers who were sojourning at this once straggling village
-- now, thanks to
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 35

                                  [Image]

the enterprise of M. Lesseps, a fast-growing town. One was the British
consul at Suez, who, despite the prophecies of the English Government, and
the unfavourable predictions of Stephenson, was in the habit of seeing,
from his office window, English ships daily passing to and fro on the great
canal, by which the old roundabout route from England to India by the Cape
of Good Hope was abridged by at least a half. The other was a small,
slight-built personage, with a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes
peering out from under eyebrows which he was incessantly twitching. He was
just now manifesting unmistakable signs of impatience, nervously pacing up
and down, and unable to stand still for a moment. This was Fix, one of the
detectives who had been dispatched from England in search of the bank
robber; it was his task to narrowly watch every passenger who arrived at
Suez, and to follow up all who seemed to be suspicious characters, or bore
a resemblance to the description of the criminal, which he had received two
days before from the police headquarters at London. The detective was
evidently inspired by the hope of obtaining the splendid reward which would
be the prize of success, and awaited with a feverish impatience, easy to
understand, the arrival of the steamer Mongolia.

     "So you say, consul," asked he for the twentieth time, "that this
steamer is never behind time?"

     "No, Mr. Fix," replied the consul. "She was bespoken
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Page 36

yesterday at Port Said, and the rest of the way is of no account to such a
craft. I repeat that the Mongolia has been in advance of the time required
by the company's regulations, and gained the prize awarded for excess of
speed."

     "Does she come directly from Brindisi?"

     "Directly from Brindisi; she takes on the Indian mails there, and she
left there Saturday at five p.m. Have patience, Mr. Fix; she will not be
late. But really, I don't see how, from the description you have, you will
be able to recognise your man, even if he is on board the Mongolia."

     "A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than
recognises them. You must have a scent for them, and a scent is like a
sixth sense which combines hearing, seeing, and smelling. I've arrested
more than one of these gentlemen in my time, and, if my thief is on board,
I'll answer for it; he'll not slip through my fingers."

     "I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery."

     "A magnificent robbery, consul; fifty-five thousand pounds! We don't
often have such windfalls. Burglars are getting to be so contemptible
nowadays! A fellow gets hung for a handful of shillings!"

     "Mr. Fix," said the consul, "I like your way of talking, and hope
you'll succeed; but I fear you will find it far from easy. Don't you see,
the description which you have there has a singular resemblance to an
honest man?"

     "Consul," remarked the detective, dogmatically, "great
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Page 37

robbers always resemble honest folks. Fellows who have rascally faces have
only one course to take, and that is to remain honest; otherwise they would
be arrested off-hand. The artistic thing is, to unmask honest countenances;
it's no light task, I admit, but a real art."

     Mr. Fix evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit.

     Little by little the scene on the quay became more animated; sailors
of various nations, merchants, ship-brokers, porters, fellahs, bustled to
and fro as if the steamer were immediately expected. The weather was clear,
and slightly chilly. The minarets of the town loomed above the houses in
the pale rays of the sun. A jetty pier, some two thousand yards along,
extended into the roadstead. A number of fishing-smacks and coasting boats,
some retaining the fantastic fashion of ancient galleys, were discernible
on the Red Sea.

     As he passed among the busy crowd, Fix, according to habit,
scrutinised the passers-by with a keen, rapid glance.

     It was now half-past ten.

     "The steamer doesn't come!" he exclaimed, as the port clock struck.

     "She can't be far off now," returned his companion.

     "How long will she stop at Suez?"

     "Four hours; long enough to get in her coal. It is
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Page 38

thirteen hundred and ten miles from Suez to Aden, at the other end of the
Red Sea, and she has to take in a fresh coal supply."

     "And does she go from Suez directly to Bombay?"

     "Without putting in anywhere."

     "Good!" said Fix. "If the robber is on board he will no doubt get off
at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies in Asia by some other
route. He ought to know that he would not be safe an hour in India, which
is English soil."

     "Unless," objected the consul, "he is exceptionally shrewd. An English
criminal, you know, is always better concealed in London than anywhere
else."

     This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and
meanwhile the consul went away to his office. Fix, left alone, was more
impatient than ever, having a presentiment that the robber was on board the
Mongolia. If he had indeed left London intending to reach the New World, he
would naturally take the route via India, which was less watched and more
difficult to watch than that of the Atlantic. But Fix's reflections were
soon interrupted by a succession of sharp whistles, which announced the
arrival of the Mongolia. The porters and fellahs rushed down the quay, and
a dozen boats pushed off from the shore to go and meet the steamer. Soon
her gigantic hull appeared passing along between the banks, and eleven
o'clock struck as she
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 39

anchored in the road. She brought an unusual number of passengers, some of
whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the town, while
the greater part disembarked in the boats, and landed on the quay.

     Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face and figure
which made its appearance. Presently one of the passengers, after
vigorously pushing his way through the importunate crowd of porters, came
up to him and politely asked if he could point out the English consulate,
at the same time showing a passport which he wished to have visaed. Fix
instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance read the
description of its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise nearly escaped
him, for the description in the passport was identical with that of the
bank robber which he had received from Scotland Yard.

     "Is this your passport?" asked he.

     "No, it's my master's."

     "And your master is -- "

     "He stayed on board."

     "But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his
identity."

     "Oh, is that necessary?"

     "Quite indispensable."

     "And where is the consulate?"

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Page 40

     "There, on the corner of the square," said Fix, pointing to a house
two hundred steps off.

     "I'll go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however, to
be disturbed."

     The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer.

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Page 41

                                 Chapter 7

    WHICH ONCE MORE DEMONSTRATES THE USELESSNESS OF PASSPORTS AS AIDS TO
                                 DETECTIVES

     The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly made his way to the
consul's office, where he was at once admitted to the presence of that
official.

     "Consul," said he, without preamble, "I have strong reasons for
believing that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia." And he narrated what
had just passed concerning the passport.

     "Well, Mr. Fix," replied the consul, "I shall not be sorry to see the
rascal's face; but perhaps he won't come here -- that is, if he is the
person you suppose him to be. A robber doesn't quite like to leave traces
of his flight behind him; and, besides, he is not obliged to have his
passport countersigned."

     "If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will
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Page 42

come."

     "To have his passport visaed?"

     "Yes. Passports are only good for annoying honest folks, and aiding in
the flight of rogues. I assure you it will be quite the thing for him to
do; but I hope you will not visa the passport."

     "Why not? If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse."

     "Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest
him from London."

     "Ah, that's your look-out. But I cannot -- "

     The consul did not finish his sentence, for as he spoke a knock was
heard at the door, and two strangers entered, one of whom was the servant
whom Fix had met on the quay. The other, who was his master, held out his
passport with the request that the consul would do him the favour to visa
it. The consul took the document and carefully read it, whilst Fix
observed, or rather devoured, the stranger with his eyes from a corner of
the room.

     "You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?" said the consul, after reading the
passport.

     "I am."

     "And this man is your servant?"

     "He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout.")

     "You are from London?"

     "Yes."

     "And you are going -- "

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Page 43

     "To Bombay."

     "Very good, sir. You know that a visa is useless, and that no passport
is required?"

     "I know it, sir," replied Phileas Fogg; "but I wish to prove, by your
visa, that I came by Suez."

     "Very well, sir."

     The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he
added his official seal. Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee, coldly bowed, and
went out, followed by his servant.

     "Well?" queried the detective.

     "Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man," replied the
consul.

     "Possibly; but that is not the question. Do you think, consul, that
this phelgmatic gentleman resembles, feature by feature, the robber whose
description I have received?"

     "I concede that; but then, you know, all descriptions -- "

     "I'll make certain of it," interrupted Fix. "The servant seems to me
less mysterious than the master; besides, he's a Frenchman, and can't help
talking. Excuse me for a little while, consul."

     Fix started off in search of Passepartout.

     Meanwhile Mr. Fogg, after leaving the consulate, repaired to the quay,
gave some orders to Passepartout, went off to the Mongolia in a boat, and
descended to his cabin. He
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Page 44

took up his note-book, which contained the following memoranda:

     "Left London, Wednesday, October 2nd, at 8.45 p.m.

     "Reached Paris, Thursday, October 3rd, at 7.20 a.m.

     "Left Paris, Thursday, at 8.40 a.m.

     "Reached Turin by Mont Cenis, Friday, October 4th, at 6.35 a.m.

     "Left Turin, Friday, at 7.20 a.m.

     "Arrived at Brindisi, Saturday, October 5th, at 4 p.m.

     "Sailed on the Mongolia, Saturday, at 5 p.m.

     "Reached Suez, Wednesday, October 9th, at 11 a.m.

     "Total of hours spent, 158+; or, in days, six days and a half."

     These dates were inscribed in an itinerary divided into columns,
indicating the month, the day of the month, and the day for the stipulated
and actual arrivals at each principal point Paris, Brindisi, Suez, Bombay,
Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama, San Francisco, New York, and
London -- from the 2nd of October to the 21st of December; and giving a
space for setting down the gain made or the loss suffered on arrival at
each locality. This methodical record thus contained an account of
everything needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was behind-hand or
in advance of his time. On this Friday, October 9th, he noted his arrival
at Suez, and observed that he had as yet neither gained nor lost. He sat
down
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Page 45

quietly to breakfast in his cabin, never once thinking of inspecting the
town, being one of those Englishmen who are wont to see foreign countries
through the eyes of their domestics.

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Page 46

                                 Chapter 8

     IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT TALKS RATHER MORE, PERHAPS, THAN IS PRUDENT

     Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and looking about on
the quay, as if he did not feel that he, at least, was obliged not to see
anything.

     "Well, my friend," said the detective, coming up with him, "is your
passport visaed?"

     "Ah, it's you, is it, monsieur?" responded Passepartout. "Thanks, yes,
the passport is all right."

     "And you are looking about you?"

     "Yes; but we travel so fast that I seem to be journeying in a dream.
So this is Suez?"

     "Yes."

     "In Egypt?"

     "Certainly, in Egypt."

     "And in Africa?"

     "In Africa."

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Page 47

     "In Africa!" repeated Passepartout. "Just think, monsieur, I had no
idea that we should go farther than Paris; and all that I saw of Paris was
between twenty minutes past seven and twenty minutes before nine in the
morning, between the Northern and the Lyons stations, through the windows
of a car, and in a driving rain! How I regret not having seen once more P
Chaise and the circus in the Champs ElysΘes!"

     "You are in a great hurry, then?"

     "I am not, but my master is. By the way, I must buy some shoes and
shirts. We came away without trunks, only with a carpet-bag."

     "I will show you an excellent shop for getting what you want."

     "Really, monsieur, you are very kind."

     And they walked off together, Passepartout chatting volubly as they
went along.

     "Above all," said he; "don't let me lose the steamer."

     "You have plenty of time; it's only twelve o'clock."

     Passepartout pulled out his big watch. "Twelve!" he exclaimed; "why,
it's only eight minutes before ten."

     "Your watch is slow."

     "My watch? A family watch, monsieur, which has come down from my
great-grandfather! It doesn't vary five minutes in the year. It's a perfect
chronometer, look you."

     "I see how it is," said Fix. "You have kept London
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Page 48

time, which is two hours behind that of Suez. You ought to regulate your
watch at noon in each country."

     "I regulate my watch? Never!"

     "Well, then, it will not agree with the sun."

     "So much the worse for the sun, monsieur. The sun will be wrong,
then!"

     And the worthy fellow returned the watch to its fob with a defiant
gesture. After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed: "You left London
hastily, then?"

     "I rather think so! Last Friday at eight o'clock in the evening,
Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour
afterwards we were off."

     "But where is your master going?"

     "Always straight ahead. He is going round the world."

     "Round the world?" cried Fix.

     "Yes, and in eighty days! He says it is on a wager; but, between us, I
don't believe a word of it. That wouldn't be common sense. There's
something else in the wind."

     "Ah! Mr. Fogg is a character, is he?"

     "I should say he was."

     "Is he rich?"

     "No doubt, for he is carrying an enormous sum in brand new banknotes
with him. And he doesn't spare the money on the way, either: he has offered
a large reward to the
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Page 49

engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to Bombay well in advance of time."

     "And you have known your master a long time?"

     "Why, no; I entered his service the very day we left London."

     The effect of these replies upon the already suspicious and excited
detective may be imagined. The hasty departure from London soon after the
robbery; the large sum carried by Mr. Fogg; his eagerness to reach distant
countries; the pretext of an eccentric and foolhardy bet -- all confirmed
Fix in his theory. He continued to pump poor Passepartout, and learned that
he really knew little or nothing of his master, who lived a solitary
existence in London, was said to be rich, though no one knew whence came
his riches, and was mysterious and impenetrable in his affairs and habits.
Fix felt sure that Phileas Fogg would not land at Suez, but was really
going on to Bombay.

     "Is Bombay far from here?" asked Passepartout.

     "Pretty far. It is a ten days' voyage by sea."

     "And in what country is Bombay?"

     "India."

     "In Asia?"

     "Certainly."

     "The deuce! I was going to tell you there's one thing that worries me
-- my burner!"

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Page 50

     "What burner?"

     "My gas-burner, which I forgot to turn off, and which is at this
moment burning at my expense. I have calculated, monsieur, that I lose two
shillings every four and twenty hours, exactly sixpense more than I earn;
and you will understand that the longer our journey -- "

     Did Fix pay any attention to Passepartout's trouble about the gas? It
is not probable. He was not listening, but was cogitating a project.
Passepartout and he had now reached the shop, where Fix left his companion
to make his purchases, after recommending him not to miss the steamer, and
hurried back to the consulate. Now that he was fully convinced, Fix had
quite recovered his equanimity.

     "Consul," said he, "I have no longer any doubt. I have spotted my man.
He passes himself off as an odd stick who is going round the world in
eighty days."

     "Then he's a sharp fellow," returned the consul, "and counts on
returning to London after putting the police of the two countries off his
track."

     "We'll see about that," replied Fix.

     "But are you not mistaken?"

     "I am not mistaken."

     "Why was this robber so anxious to prove, by the visa, that he had
passed through Suez?"

     "Why? I have no idea; but listen to me."

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Page 51

     He reported in a few words the most important parts of his
conversation with Passepartout.

     "In short," said the consul, "appearances are wholly against this man.
And what are you going to do?"

     "Send a dispatch to London for a warrant of arrest to be dispatched
instantly to Bombay, take passage on board the Mongolia, follow my rogue to
India, and there, on English ground, arrest him politely, with my warrant
in my hand, and my hand on his shoulder."

     Having uttered these words with a cool, careless air, the detective
took leave of the consul, and repaired to the telegraph office, whence he
sent the dispatch which we have seen to the London police office. A quarter
of an hour later found Fix, with a small bag in his hand, proceeding on
board the Mongolia; and, ere many moments longer, the noble steamer rode
out at full steam upon the waters of the Red Sea.

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Page 52

                                 Chapter 9

 IN WHICH THE RED SEA AND THE INDIAN OCEAN PROVE PROPITIOUS TO THE DESIGNS
                              OF PHILEAS FOGG

     The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and
ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one
hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia,
thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so rapid
was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that time. The
greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for India some for
Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the nearest route thither,
now that a railway crosses the Indian peninsula. Among the passengers was a
number of officials and military officers of various grades, the latter
being either attached to the regular British forces or commanding the Sepoy
troops, and receiving high salaries ever since the central government
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Page 53

has assumed the powers of the East India Company: for the sub-lieutenants
get 280ú, brigadiers, 2,400ú, and generals of divisions, 4,000ú. What with
the military men, a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels, and
the hospitable efforts of the purser, the time passed quickly on the
Mongolia. The best of fare was spread upon the cabin tables at breakfast,
lunch, dinner, and the eight o'clock supper, and the ladies scrupulously
changed their toilets twice a day; and the hours were whirled away, when
the sea was tranquil, with music, dancing, and games.

     But the Red Sea is full of caprice, and often boisterous, like most
long and narrow gulfs. When the wind came from the African or Asian coast
the Mongolia, with her long hull, rolled fearfully. Then the ladies
speedily disappeared below; the pianos were silent; singing and dancing
suddenly ceased. Yet the good ship ploughed straight on, unretarded by wind
or wave, towards the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. What was Phileas Fogg doing
all this time? It might be thought that, in his anxiety, he would be
constantly watching the changes of the wind, the disorderly raging of the
billows -- every chance, in short, which might force the Mongolia to
slacken her speed, and thus interrupt his journey. But, if he thought of
these possibilities, he did not betray the fact by any outward sign.

     Always the same impassible member of the Reform
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Page 54

Club, whom no incident could surprise, as unvarying as the ship's
chronometers, and seldom having the curiosity even to go upon the deck, he
passed through the memorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference;
did not care to recognise the historic towns and villages which, along its
borders, raised their picturesque outlines against the sky; and betrayed no
fear of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the old historians always
spoke of with horror, and upon which the ancient navigators never ventured
without propitiating the gods by ample sacrifices. How did this eccentric
personage pass his time on the Mongolia? He made his four hearty meals
every day, regardless of the most persistent rolling and pitching on the
part of the steamer; and he played whist indefatigably, for he had found
partners as enthusiastic in the game as himself. A tax-collector, on the
way to his post at Goa; the Rev. Decimus Smith, returning to his parish at
Bombay; and a brigadier-general of the English army, who was about to
rejoin his brigade at Benares, made up the party, and, with Mr. Fogg,
played whist by the hour together in absorbing silence.

     As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, and took his
meals conscientiously in the forward cabin. He rather enjoyed the voyage,
for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in the scenes
through which they were passing, and consoled himself with the delusion
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Page 55

that his master's whim would end at Bombay. He was pleased, on the day
after leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging person with whom he had
walked and chatted on the quays.

     "If I am not mistaken," said he, approaching this person, with his
most amiable smile, "you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered to
guide me at Suez?"

     "Ah! I quite recognise you. You are the servant of the strange
Englishman -- "

     "Just so, monsieur -- "

     "Fix."

     "Monsieur Fix," resumed Passepartout, "I'm charmed to find you on
board. Where are you bound?"

     "Like you, to Bombay."

     "That's capital! Have you made this trip before?"

     "Several times. I am one of the agents of the Peninsular Company."

     "Then you know India?"

     "Why yes," replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.

     "A curious place, this India?"

     "Oh, very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas,
tigers, snakes, elephants! I hope you will have ample time to see the
sights."

     "I hope so, Monsieur Fix. You see, a man of sound sense ought not to
spend his life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train, and from a
railway train upon a
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Page 56

steamer again, pretending to make the tour of the world in eighty days! No;
all these gymnastics, you may be sure, will cease at Bombay."

     "And Mr. Fogg is getting on well?" asked Fix, in the most natural tone
in the world.

     "Quite well, and I too. I eat like a famished ogre; it's the sea air.

      "But I never see your master on deck."

      "Never; he hasn't the least curiosity."

      "Do you know, Mr. Passepartout, that this pretended tour in eighty
days may conceal some secret errand -- perhaps a diplomatic mission?"

      "Faith, Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about it, nor would
I give half a crown to find out."

      After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of
chatting together, the latter making it a point to gain the worthy man's
confidence. He frequently offered him a glass of whiskey or pale ale in the
steamer bar-room, which Passepartout never failed to accept with graceful
alacrity, mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good fellows.

     Meanwhile the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly; on the 13th,
Mocha, surrounded by its ruined walls whereon date-trees were growing, was
sighted, and on the mountains beyond were espied vast coffee-fields.
Passepartout was ravished to behold this celebrated place, and thought
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Page 57

that, with its circular walls and dismantled fort, it looked like an
immense coffee-cup and saucer. The following night they passed through the
Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which means in Arabic The Bridge of Tears, and the
next day they put in at Steamer Point, north-west of Aden harbour, to take
in coal. This matter of fuelling steamers is a serious one at such
distances from the coal-mines; it costs the Peninsular Company some eight
hundred thousand pounds a year. In these distant seas, coal is worth three
or four pounds sterling a ton.

     The Mongolia had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to traverse
before reaching Bombay, and was obliged to remain four hours at Steamer
Point to coal up. But this delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect
Phileas Fogg's programme; besides, the Mongolia, instead of reaching Aden
on the morning of the 15th, when she was due, arrived there on the evening
of the 14th, a gain of fifteen hours.

     Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have the passport
again visaed; Fix, unobserved, followed them. The visa procured, Mr. Fogg
returned on board to resume his former habits; while Passepartout,
according to custom, sauntered about among the mixed population of
Somanlis, Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who comprise the
twenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden. He gazed with wonder upon the
fortifications which make this
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 58

place the Gibraltar of the Indian Ocean, and the vast cisterns where the
English engineers were still at work, two thousand years after the
engineers of Solomon.

     "Very curious, very curious," said Passepartout to himself, on
returning to the steamer. "I see that it is by no means useless to travel,
if a man wants to see something new." At six p.m. the Mongolia slowly moved
out of the roadstead, and was soon once more on the Indian Ocean. She had a
hundred and sixty-eight hours in which to reach Bombay, and the sea was
favourable, the wind being in the north-west, and all sails aiding the
engine. The steamer rolled but little, the ladies, in fresh toilets,
reappeared on deck, and the singing and dancing were resumed. The trip was
being accomplished most successfully, and Passepartout was enchanted with
the congenial companion which chance had secured him in the person of the
delightful Fix. On Sunday, October 20th, towards noon, they came in sight
of the Indian coast: two hours later the pilot came on board. A range of
hills lay against the sky in the horizon, and soon the rows of palms which
adorn Bombay came distinctly into view. The steamer entered the road formed
by the islands in the bay, and at half-past four she hauled up at the quays
of Bombay.

     Phileas Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty-third rubber of
the voyage, and his partner and himself having,
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 59

by a bold stroke, captured all thirteen of the tricks, concluded this fine
campaign with a brilliant victory.

     The Mongolia was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she arrived on the 20th.
This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of two days since his departure from
London, and he calmly entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column of
gains.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 60

                                 Chapter 10

   IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT IS ONLY TOO GLAD TO GET OFF WITH THE LOSS OF HIS
                                   SHOES

     Everybody knows that the great reversed triangle of land, with its
base in the north and its apex in the south, which is called India,
embraces fourteen hundred thousand square miles, upon which is spread
unequally a population of one hundred and eighty millions of souls. The
British Crown exercises a real and despotic dominion over the larger
portion of this vast country, and has a governor-general stationed at
Calcutta, governors at Madras, Bombay, and in Bengal, and a
lieutenant-governor at Agra.

     But British India, properly so called, only embraces seven hundred
thousand square miles, and a population of from one hundred to one hundred
and ten millions of inhabitants. A considerable portion of India is still
free from British authority; and there are certain ferocious rajahs in the
interior who are absolutely independent.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 61

The celebrated East India Company was all-powerful from 1756, when the
English first gained a foothold on the spot where now stands the city of
Madras, down to the time of the great Sepoy insurrection. It gradually
annexed province after province, purchasing them of the native chiefs, whom
it seldom paid, and appointed the governor-general and his subordinates,
civil and military. But the East India Company has now passed away, leaving
the British possessions in India directly under the control of the Crown.
The aspect of the country, as well as the manners and distinctions of race,
is daily changing.

     Formerly one was obliged to travel in India by the old cumbrous
methods of going on foot or on horseback, in palanquins or unwieldly
coaches; now fast steamboats ply on the Indus and the Ganges, and a great
railway, with branch lines joining the main line at many points on its
route, traverses the peninsula from Bombay to Calcutta in three days. This
railway does not run in a direct line across India. The distance between
Bombay and Calcutta, as the bird flies, is only from one thousand to eleven
hundred miles; but the deflections of the road increase this distance by
more than a third.

     The general route of the Great Indian Peninsula Railway is as follows:
Leaving Bombay, it passes through Salcette, crossing to the continent
opposite Tannah, goes over the chain of the Western Ghauts, runs thence
north-
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 62

east as far as Burhampoor, skirts the nearly independent territory of
Bundelcund, ascends to Allahabad, turns thence eastwardly, meeting the
Ganges at Benares, then departs from the river a little, and, descending
south-eastward by Burdivan and the French town of Chandernagor, has its
terminus at Calcutta.

     The passengers of the Mongolia went ashore at half-past four p.m.; at
exactly eight the train would start for Calcutta.

     Mr. Fogg, after bidding good-bye to his whist partners, left the
steamer, gave his servant several errands to do, urged it upon him to be at
the station promptly at eight, and, with his regular step, which beat to
the second, like a astronomical clock, directed his steps to the passport
office. As for the wonders of Bombay its famous city hall, its splendid
library, its forts and docks, its bazaars, mosques, synagogues, its
Armenian churches, and the noble pagoda on Malabar Hill, with its two
polygonal towers -- he cared not a straw to see them. He would not deign to
examine even the masterpieces of Elephanta, or the mysterious hypogea,
concealed south-east from the docks, or those fine remains of Buddhist
architecture, the Kanherian grottoes of the island of Salcette.

     Having transacted his business at the passport office, Phileas Fogg
repaired quietly to the railway station, where he ordered dinner. Among the
dishes served up to him,
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Page 63

the landlord especially recommended a certain giblet of "native rabbit," on
which he prided himself.

     Mr. Fogg accordingly tasted the dish, but, despite its spiced sauce,
found it far from palatable. He rang for the landlord, and, on his
appearance, said, fixing his clear eyes upon him, "Is this rabbit, sir?"

     "Yes, my lord," the rogue boldly replied, "rabbit from the jungles."

     "And this rabbit did not mew when he was killed?"

     "Mew, my lord! What, a rabbit mew! I swear to you -- "

     "Be so good, landlord, as not to swear, but remember this: cats were
formerly considered, in India, as sacred animals. That was a good time."

     "For the cats, my lord?"

     "Perhaps for the travellers as well!"

     After which Mr. Fogg quietly continued his dinner. Fix had gone on
shore shortly after Mr. Fogg, and his first destination was the
headquarters of the Bombay police. He made himself known as a London
detective, told his business at Bombay, and the position of affairs
relative to the supposed robber, and nervously asked if a warrant had
arrived from London. It had not reached the office; indeed, there had not
yet been time for it to arrive. Fix was sorely disappointed, and tried to
obtain an order of arrest from the director of the Bombay police. This
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Page 64

the director refused, as the matter concerned the London office, which
alone could legally deliver the warrant. Fix did not insist, and was fain
to resign himself to await the arrival of the important document; but he
was determined not to lose sight of the mysterious rogue as long as he
stayed in Bombay. He did not doubt for a moment, any more than
Passepartout, that Phileas Fogg would remain there, at least until it was
time for the warrant to arrive.

     Passepartout, however, had no sooner heard his master's orders on
leaving the Mongolia than he saw at once that they were to leave Bombay as
they had done Suez and Paris, and that the journey would be extended at
least as far as Calcutta, and perhaps beyond that place. He began to ask
himself if this bet that Mr. Fogg talked about was not really in good
earnest, and whether his fate was not in truth forcing him, despite his
love of repose, around the world in eighty days!

     Having purchased the usual quota of shirts and shoes, he took a
leisurely promenade about the streets, where crowds of people of many
nationalities -- Europeans, Persians with pointed caps, Banyas with round
turbans, Sindes with square bonnets, Parsees with black mitres, and
long-robed Armenians -- were collected. It happened to be the day of a
Parsee festival. These descendants of the sect of Zoroaster -- the most
thrifty, civilised, intelligent, and austere of the East Indians, among
whom are counted
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 65

the richest native merchants of Bombay -- were celebrating a sort of
religious carnival, with processions and shows, in the midst of which
Indian dancing-girls, clothed in rose-coloured gauze, looped up with gold
and silver, danced airily, but with perfect modesty, to the sound of viols
and the clanging of tambourines. It is needless to say that Passepartout
watched these curious ceremonies with staring eyes and gaping mouth, and
that his countenance was that of the greenest booby imaginable.

     Unhappily for his master, as well as himself, his curiosity drew him
unconsciously farther off than he intended to go. At last, having seen the
Parsee carnival wind away in the distance, he was turning his steps towards
the station, when he happened to espy the splendid pagoda on Malabar Hill,
and was seized with an irresistible desire to see its interior. He was
quite ignorant that it is forbidden to Christians to enter certain Indian
temples, and that even the faithful must not go in without first leaving
their shoes outside the door. It may be said here that the wise policy of
the British Government severely punishes a disregard of the practices of
the native religions.

     Passepartout, however, thinking no harm, went in like a simple
tourist, and was soon lost in admiration of the splendid Brahmin
ornamentation which everywhere met his eyes, when of a sudden he found
himself sprawling on the sacred flagging. He looked up to behold three
enraged priests, who
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Page 66

forthwith fell upon him; tore off his shoes, and began to beat him with
loud, savage exclamations. The agile Frenchman was soon upon his feet
again, and lost no time in knocking down two of his long-gowned adversaries
with his fists and a vigorous application of his toes; then, rushing out of
the pagoda as fast as his legs could carry him, he soon escaped the third
priest by mingling with the crowd in the streets.

     At five minutes before eight, Passepartout, hatless, shoeless, and
having in the squabble lost his package of shirts and shoes, rushed
breathlessly into the station.

     Fix, who had followed Mr. Fogg to the station, and saw that he was
really going to leave Bombay, was there, upon the platform. He had resolved
to follow the supposed robber to Calcutta, and farther, if necessary.
Passepartout did not observe the detective, who stood in an obscure corner;
but Fix heard him relate his adventures in a few words to Mr. Fogg.

     "I hope that this will not happen again," said Phileas Fogg coldly, as
he got into the train. Poor Passepartout, quite crestfallen, followed his
master without a word. Fix was on the point of entering another carriage,
when an idea struck him which induced him to alter his plan.

     "No, I'll stay," muttered he. "An offence has been committed on Indian
soil. I've got my man."

     Just then the locomotive gave a sharp screech, and the train passed
out into the darkness of the night.

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Page 67

                                 Chapter 11

 IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SECURES A CURIOUS MEANS OF CONVEYANCE AT A FABULOUS
                                   PRICE

     The train had started punctually. Among the passengers were a number
of officers, Government officials, and opium and indigo merchants, whose
business called them to the eastern coast. Passepartout rode in the same
carriage with his master, and a third passenger occupied a seat opposite to
them. This was Sir Francis Cromarty, one of Mr. Fogg's whist partners on
the Mongolia, now on his way to join his corps at Benares. Sir Francis was
a tall, fair man of fifty, who had greatly distinguished himself in the
last Sepoy revolt. He made India his home, only paying brief visits to
England at rare intervals; and was almost as familiar as a native with the
customs, history, and character of India and its people. But Phileas Fogg,
who was not travelling, but only describing a circumference, took no pains
to inquire into
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Page 68

these subjects; he was a solid body, traversing an orbit around the
terrestrial globe, according to the laws of rational mechanics. He was at
this moment calculating in his mind the number of hours spent since his
departure from London, and, had it been in his nature to make a useless
demonstration, would have rubbed his hands for satisfaction. Sir Francis
Cromarty had observed the oddity of his travelling companion -- although
the only opportunity he had for studying him had been while he was dealing
the cards, and between two rubbers -- and questioned himself whether a
human heart really beat beneath this cold exterior, and whether Phileas
Fogg had any sense of the beauties of nature. The brigadier-general was
free to mentally confess that, of all the eccentric persons he had ever
met, none was comparable to this product of the exact sciences.

     Phileas Fogg had not concealed from Sir Francis his design of going
round the world, nor the circumstances under which he set out; and the
general only saw in the wager a useless eccentricity and a lack of sound
commonsense. In the way this strange gentleman was going on, he would leave
the world without having done any good to himself or anybody else.

     An hour after leaving Bombay the train had passed the viaducts and the
Island of Salcette, and had got into the open country. At Callyan they
reached the junction of
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Page 69

the branch line which descends towards south-eastern India by Kandallah and
Pounah; and, passing Pauwell, they entered the defiles of the mountains,
with their basalt bases, and their summits crowned with thick and verdant
forests. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty exchanged a few words from
time to time, and now Sir Francis, reviving the conversation, observed,
"Some years ago, Mr. Fogg, you would have met with a delay at this point
which would probably have lost you your wager."

     "How so, Sir Francis?"

     "Because the railway stopped at the base of these mountains, which the
passengers were obliged to cross in palanquins or on ponies to Kandallah,
on the other side."

     "Such a delay would not have deranged my plans in the least," said Mr.
Fogg. "I have constantly foreseen the likelihood of certain obstacles."

     "But, Mr. Fogg," pursued Sir Francis, "you run the risk of having some
difficulty about this worthy fellow's adventure at the pagoda."
Passepartout, his feet comfortably wrapped in his travelling-blanket, was
sound asleep and did not dream that anybody was talking about him. "The
Government is very severe upon that kind of offence. It takes particular
care that the religious customs of the Indians should be respected, and if
your servant were caught -- "

     "Very well, Sir Francis," replied Mr. Fogg; "if he had
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Page 70

been caught he would have been condemned and punished, and then would have
quietly returned to Europe. I don't see how this affair could have delayed
his master."

     The conversation fell again. During the night the train left the
mountains behind, and passed Nassik, and the next day proceeded over the
flat, well-cultivated country of the Khandeish, with its straggling
villages, above which rose the minarets of the pagodas. This fertile
territory is watered by numerous small rivers and limpid streams, mostly
tributaries of the Godavery.

     Passepartout, on waking and looking out, could not realise that he was
actually crossing India in a railway train. The locomotive, guided by an
English engineer and fed with English coal, threw out its smoke upon
cotton, coffee, nutmeg, clove, and pepper plantations, while the steam
curled in spirals around groups of palm-trees, in the midst of which were
seen picturesque bungalows, viharis (sort of abandoned monasteries), and
marvellous temples enriched by the exhaustless ornamentation of Indian
architecture. Then they came upon vast tracts extending to the horizon,
with jungles inhabited by snakes and tigers, which fled at the noise of the
train; succeeded by forests penetrated by the railway, and still haunted by
elephants which, with pensive eyes, gazed at the train as it passed. The
travellers crossed, beyond Milligaum, the fatal country so often stained
with blood by the sectaries
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of the goddess Kali. Not far off rose Ellora, with its graceful pagodas,
and the famous Aurungabad, capital of the ferocious Aureng-Zeb, now the
chief town of one of the detached provinces of the kingdom of the Nizam. It
was thereabouts that Feringhea, the Thuggee chief, king of the stranglers,
held his sway. These ruffians, united by a secret bond, strangled victims
of every age in honour of the goddess Death, without ever shedding blood;
there was a period when this part of the country could scarcely be
travelled over without corpses being found in every direction. The English
Government has succeeded in greatly diminishing these murders, though the
Thuggees still exist, and pursue the exercise of their horrible rites.

     At half-past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor where Passepartout
was able to purchase some Indian slippers, ornamented with false pearls, in
which, with evident vanity, he proceeded to encase his feet. The travellers
made a hasty breakfast and started off for Assurghur, after skirting for a
little the banks of the small river Tapty, which empties into the Gulf of
Cambray, near Surat.

     Passepartout was now plunged into absorbing reverie. Up to his arrival
at Bombay, he had entertained hopes that their journey would end there;
but, now that they were plainly whirling across India at full speed, a
sudden change had come over the spirit of his dreams. His old vagabond
nature returned to him; the fantastic ideas of
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Page 72

his youth once more took possession of him. He came to regard his master's
project as intended in good earnest, believed in the reality of the bet,
and therefore in the tour of the world and the necessity of making it
without fail within the designated period. Already he began to worry about
possible delays, and accidents which might happen on the way. He recognised
himself as being personally interested in the wager, and trembled at the
thought that he might have been the means of losing it by his unpardonable
folly of the night before. Being much less cool-headed than Mr. Fogg, he
was much more restless, counting and recounting the days passed over,
uttering maledictions when the train stopped, and accusing it of
sluggishness, and mentally blaming Mr. Fogg for not having bribed the
engineer. The worthy fellow was ignorant that, while it was possible by
such means to hasten the rate of a steamer, it could not be done on the
railway.

     The train entered the defiles of the Sutpour Mountains, which separate
the Khandeish from Bundelcund, towards evening. The next day Sir Francis
Cromarty asked Passepartout what time it was; to which, on consulting his
watch, he replied that it was three in the morning. This famous timepiece,
always regulated on the Greenwich meridian, which was now some
seventy-seven degrees westward, was at least four hours slow. Sir Francis
corrected Passepartout's time, whereupon the latter made the
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Page 73

same remark that he had done to Fix; and up on the general insisting that
the watch should be regulated in each new meridian, since he was constantly
going eastward, that is in the face of the sun, and therefore the days were
shorter by four minutes for each degree gone over, Passepartout obstinately
refused to alter his watch, which he kept at London time. It was an
innocent delusion which could harm no one.

     The train stopped, at eight o'clock, in the midst of a glade some
fifteen miles beyond Rothal, where there were several bungalows, and
workmen's cabins. The conductor, passing along the carriages, shouted,
"Passengers will get out here!"

     Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an explanation; but
the general could not tell what meant a halt in the midst of this forest of
dates and acacias.

     Passepartout, not less surprised, rushed out and speedily returned,
crying: "Monsieur, no more railway!"

     "What do you mean?" asked Sir Francis.

     "I mean to say that the train isn't going on."

     The general at once stepped out, while Phileas Fogg calmly followed
him, and they proceeded together to the conductor.

     "Where are we?" asked Sir Francis.

     "At the hamlet of Kholby."

     "Do we stop here?"

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     "Certainly. The railway isn't finished."

     "What! not finished?"

     "No. There's still a matter of fifty miles to be laid from here to
Allahabad, where the line begins again."

     "But the papers announced the opening of the railway throughout."

     "What would you have, officer? The papers were mistaken."

     "Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta," retorted Sir Francis,
who was growing warm.

     "No doubt," replied the conductor; "but the passengers know that they
must provide means of transportation for themselves from Kholby to
Allahabad."

     Sir Francis was furious. Passepartout would willingly have knocked the
conductor down, and did not dare to look at his master.

     "Sir Francis," said Mr. Fogg quietly, "we will, if you please, look
about for some means of conveyance to Allahabad."

     "Mr. Fogg, this is a delay greatly to your disadvantage."

     "No, Sir Francis; it was foreseen."

     "What! You knew that the way -- "

     "Not at all; but I knew that some obstacle or other would sooner or
later arise on my route. Nothing, therefore, is lost. I have two days,
which I have already gained, to sacrifice. A steamer leaves Calcutta for
Hong Kong at
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noon, on the 25th. This is the 22nd, and we shall reach Calcutta in time."

     There was nothing to say to so confident a response.

     It was but too true that the railway came to a termination at this
point. The papers were like some watches, which have a way of getting too
fast, and had been premature in their announcement of the completion of the
line. The greater part of the travellers were aware of this interruption,
and, leaving the train, they began to engage such vehicles as the village
could provide four-wheeled palkigharis, waggons drawn by zebus, carriages
that looked like perambulating pagodas, palanquins, ponies, and what not.

     Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, after searching the village from
end to end, came back without having found anything.

     "I shall go afoot," said Phileas Fogg.

     Passepartout, who had now rejoined his master, made a wry grimace, as
he thought of his magnificent, but too frail Indian shoes. Happily he too
had been looking about him, and, after a moment's hesitation, said,
"Monsieur, I think I have found a means of conveyance."

     "What?"

     "An elephant! An elephant that belongs to an Indian who lives but a
hundred steps from here."

     "Let's go and see the elephant," replied Mr. Fogg.

     They soon reached a small hut, near which, enclosed
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within some high palings, was the animal in question. An Indian came out of
the hut, and, at their request, conducted them within the enclosure. The
elephant, which its owner had reared, not for a beast of burden, but for
warlike purposes, was half domesticated. The Indian had begun already, by
often irritating him, and feeding him every three months on sugar and
butter, to impart to him a ferocity not in his nature, this method being
often employed by those who train the Indian elephants for battle. Happily,
however, for Mr. Fogg, the animal's instruction in this direction had not
gone far, and the elephant still preserved his natural gentleness. Kiouni
-- this was the name of the beast -- could doubtless travel rapidly for a
long time, and, in default of any other means of conveyance, Mr. Fogg
resolved to hire him. But elephants are far from cheap in India, where they
are becoming scarce, the males, which alone are suitable for circus shows,
are much sought, especially as but few of them are domesticated. When
therefore Mr. Fogg proposed to the Indian to hire Kiouni, he refused
point-blank. Mr. Fogg persisted, offering the excessive sum of ten pounds
an hour for the loan of the beast to Allahabad. Refused. Twenty pounds?
Refused also. Forty pounds? Still refused. Passepartout jumped at each
advance; but the Indian declined to be tempted. Yet the offer was an
alluring one, for, supposing it took the elephant fifteen
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hours to reach Allahabad, his owner would receive no less than six hundred
pounds sterling.

     Phileas Fogg, without getting in the least flurried, then proposed to
purchase the animal outright, and at first offered a thousand pounds for
him. The Indian, perhaps thinking he was going to make a great bargain,
still refused.

     Sir Francis Cromarty took Mr. Fogg aside, and begged him to reflect
before he went any further; to which that gentleman replied that he was not
in the habit of acting rashly, that a bet of twenty thousand pounds was at
stake, that the elephant was absolutely necessary to him, and that he would
secure him if he had to pay twenty times his value. Returning to the
Indian, whose small, sharp eyes, glistening with avarice, betrayed that
with him it was only a question of how great a price he could obtain. Mr.
Fogg offered first twelve hundred, then fifteen hundred, eighteen hundred,
two thousand pounds. Passepartout, usually so rubicund, was fairly white
with suspense.

     At two thousand pounds the Indian yielded.

     "What a price, good heavens!" cried Passepartout, "for an elephant.

     It only remained now to find a guide, which was comparatively easy. A
young Parsee, with an intelligent face, offered his services, which Mr.
Fogg accepted, promising so generous a reward as to materially stimulate
his zeal.
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The elephant was led out and equipped. The Parsee, who was an accomplished
elephant driver, covered his back with a sort of saddle-cloth, and attached
to each of his flanks some curiously uncomfortable howdahs.

     Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with some banknotes which he extracted
from the famous carpet-bag, a proceeding that seemed to deprive poor
Passepartout of his vitals. Then he offered to carry Sir Francis to
Allahabad, which the brigadier gratefully accepted, as one traveller the
more would not be likely to fatigue the gigantic beast. Provisions were
purchased at Kholby, and, while Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg took the howdahs
on either side, Passepartout got astride the saddle-cloth between them. The
Parsee perched himself on the elephant's neck, and at nine o'clock they set
out from the village, the animal marching off through the dense forest of
palms by the shortest cut.

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                                 Chapter 12

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND HIS COMPANIONS VENTURE ACROSS THE INDIAN FORESTS,
                              AND WHAT ENSUED

     In order to shorten the journey, the guide passed to the left of the
line where the railway was still in process of being built. This line,
owing to the capricious turnings of the Vindhia Mountains, did not pursue a
straight course. The Parsee, who was quite familiar with the roads and
paths in the district, declared that they would gain twenty miles by
striking directly through the forest.

     Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, plunged to the neck in the
peculiar howdahs provided for them, were horribly jostled by the swift
trotting of the elephant, spurred on as he was by the skilful Parsee; but
they endured the discomfort with true British phlegm, talking little, and
scarcely able to catch a glimpse of each other. As for Passepartout, who
was mounted on the beast's
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back, and received the direct force of each concussion as he trod along, he
was very careful, in accordance with his master's advice, to keep his
tongue from between his teeth, as it would otherwise have been bitten off
short. The worthy fellow bounced from the elephant's neck to his rump, and
vaulted like a clown on a spring-board; yet he laughed in the midst of his
bouncing, and from time to time took a piece of sugar out of his pocket,
and inserted it in Kiouni's trunk, who received it without in the least
slackening his regular trot.

     After two hours the guide stopped the elephant, and gave him an hour
for rest, during which Kiouni, after quenching his thirst at a neighbouring
spring, set to devouring the branches and shrubs round about him. Neither
Sir Francis nor Mr. Fogg regretted the delay, and both descended with a
feeling of relief. "Why, he's made of iron!" exclaimed the general, gazing
admiringly on Kiouni.

     "Of forged iron," replied Passepartout, as he set about preparing a
hasty breakfast.

     At noon the Parsee gave the signal of departure. The country soon
presented a very savage aspect. Copses of dates and dwarf-palms succeeded
the dense forests; then vast, dry plains, dotted with scanty shrubs, and
sown with great blocks of syenite. All this portion of Bundelcund, which is
little frequented by travellers, is inhabited by a
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fanatical population, hardened in the most horrible practices of the Hindoo
faith. The English have not been able to secure complete dominion over this
territory, which is subjected to the influence of rajahs, whom it is almost
impossible to reach in their inaccessible mountain fastnesses. The
travellers several times saw bands of ferocious Indians, who, when they
perceived the elephant striding across-country, made angry arid threatening
motions. The Parsee avoided them as much as possible. Few animals were
observed on the route; even the monkeys hurried from their path with
contortions and grimaces which convulsed Passepartout with laughter.

     In the midst of his gaiety, however, one thought troubled the worthy
servant. What would Mr. Fogg do with the elephant when he got to Allahabad?
Would he carry him on with him? Impossible! The cost of transporting him
would make him ruinously expensive. Would he sell him, or set him free? The
estimable beast certainly deserved some consideration. Should Mr. Fogg
choose to make him, Passepartout, a present of Kiouni, he would be very
much embarrassed; and these thoughts did not cease worrying him for a long
time.

     The principal chain of the Vindhias was crossed by eight in the
evening, and another halt was made on the northern slope, in a ruined
bungalow. They had gone nearly twenty-five miles that day, and an
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equal distance still separated them from the station of Allahabad.

     The night was cold. The Parsee lit a fire in the bungalow with a few
dry branches, and the warmth was very grateful, provisions purchased at
Kholby sufficed for supper, and the travellers ate ravenously. The
conversation, beginning with a few disconnected phrases, soon gave place to
loud and steady snores. The guide watched Kiouni, who slept standing,
bolstering himself against the trunk of a large tree. Nothing occurred
during the night to disturb the slumberers, although occasional growls
front panthers and chatterings of monkeys broke the silence; the more
formidable beasts made no cries or hostile demonstration against the
occupants of the bungalow. Sir Francis slept heavily, like an honest
soldier overcome with fatigue. Passepartout was wrapped in uneasy dreams of
the bouncing of the day before. As for Mr. Fogg, he slumbered as peacefully
as if he had been in his serene mansion in Saville Row.

     The journey was resumed at six in the morning; the guide hoped to
reach Allahabad by evening. In that case, Mr. Fogg would only lose a part
of the forty-eight hours saved since the beginning of the tour. Kiouni,
resuming his rapid gait, soon descended the lower spurs of the Vindhias,
and towards noon they passed by the village of Kallenger, on the Cani, one
of the branches of the Ganges.
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The guide avoided inhabited places, thinking it safer to keep the open
country, which lies along the first depressions of the basin of the great
river. Allahabad was now only twelve miles to the north-east. They stopped
under a clump of bananas, the fruit of which, as healthy as bread and as
succulent as cream, was amply partaken of and appreciated.

     At two o'clock the guide entered a thick forest which extended several
miles; he preferred to travel under cover of the woods. They had not as yet
had any unpleasant encounters, and the journey seemed on the point of being
successfully accomplished, when the elephant, becoming restless, suddenly
stopped.

     It was then four o'clock.

     "What's the matter?" asked Sir Francis, putting out his head.

     "I don't know, officer," replied the Parsee, listening attentively to
a confused murmur which came through the thick branches.

     The murmur soon became more distinct; it now seemed like a distant
concert of human voices accompanied by brass instruments. Passepartout was
all eyes and ears. Mr. Fogg patiently waited without a word. The Parsee
jumped to the ground, fastened the elephant to a tree, and plunged into the
thicket. He soon returned, saying:

     "A procession of Brahmins is coming this way. We must prevent their
seeing us, if possible."

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     The guide unloosed the elephant and led him into a thicket, at the
same time asking the travellers not to stir. He held himself ready to
bestride the animal at a moment's notice, should flight become necessary;
but he evidently thought that the procession of the faithful would pass
without perceiving them amid the thick foliage, in which they were wholly
concealed.

     The discordant tones of the voices and instruments drew nearer, and
now droning songs mingled with the sound of the tambourines and cymbals.
The head of the procession soon appeared beneath the trees, a hundred paces
away; and the strange figures who performed the religious ceremony were
easily distinguished through the branches. First came the priests, with
mitres on their heads, and clothed in long lace robes. They were surrounded
by men, women, and children, who sang a kind of lugubrious psalm,
interrupted at regular intervals by the tambourines and cymbals; while
behind them was drawn a car with large wheels, the spokes of which
represented serpents entwined with each other. Upon the car, which was
drawn by four richly caparisoned zebus, stood a hideous statue with four
arms, the body coloured a dull red, with haggard eyes, dishevelled hair,
protruding tongue, and lips tinted with betel. It stood upright upon the
figure of a prostrate and headless giant.

     Sir Francis, recognising the statue, whispered, "The goddess Kali; the
goddess of love and death."

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                                  [Image]

     "Of death, perhaps," muttered back Passepartout, "but of love -- that
ugly old hag? Never!"

     The Parsee made a motion to keep silence.

     A group of old fakirs were capering and making a wild ado round the
statue; these were striped with ochre, and covered with cuts whence their
blood issued drop by drop -- stupid fanatics, who, in the great Indian
ceremonies, still throw themselves under the wheels of Juggernaut. Some
Brahmins, clad in all the sumptuousness of Oriental apparel, and leading a
woman who faltered at every step, followed. This woman was young, and as
fair as a European. Her head and neck, shoulders, ears, arms, hands, and
toes were loaded down with jewels and gems with bracelets, earrings, and
rings; while a tunic bordered with gold, and covered with a light muslin
robe, betrayed the outline of her form.

     The guards who followed the young woman presented a violent contrast
to her, armed as they were with naked sabres hung at their waists, and long
damascened pistols, and bearing a corpse on a palanquin. It was the body of
an old man, gorgeously arrayed in the habiliments of a rajah, wearing, as
in life, a turban embroidered with pearls, a robe of tissue of silk and
gold, a scarf of cashmere sewed with diamonds, and the magnificent weapons
of a Hindoo prince. Next came the musicians and a rearguard of capering
fakirs, whose cries sometimes drowned the noise of the instruments; these
closed the procession.

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     Sir Francis watched the procession with a sad countenance, and,
turning to the guide, said, "A suttee."

     The Parsee nodded, and put his finger to his lips. The procession
slowly wound under the trees, and soon its last ranks disappeared in the
depths of the wood. The songs gradually died away; occasionally cries were
heard in the distance, until at last all was silence again.

     Phileas Fogg had heard what Sir Francis said, and, as soon as the
procession had disappeared, asked: "What is a suttee?"

     "A suttee," returned the general, "is a human sacrifice, but a
voluntary one. The woman you have just seen will be burned to-morrow at the
dawn of day."

     "Oh, the scoundrels!" cried Passepartout, who could not repress his
indignation.

     "And the corpse?" asked Mr. Fogg.

     "Is that of the prince, her husband," said the guide; "an independent
rajah of Bundelcund."

     "Is it possible," resumed Phileas Fogg, his voice betraying not the
least emotion, "that these barbarous customs still exist in India, and that
the English have been unable to put a stop to them?"

     "These sacrifices do not occur in the larger portion of India,"
replied Sir Francis; "but we have no power over these savage territories,
and especially here in Bundelcund.
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The whole district north of the Vindhias is the theatre of incessant
murders and pillage."

     "The poor wretch!" exclaimed Passepartout, "to be burned alive!"

     "Yes," returned Sir Francis, "burned alive. And, if she were not, you
cannot conceive what treatment she would be obliged to submit to from her
relatives. They would shave off her hair, feed her on a scanty allowance of
rice, treat her with contempt; she would be looked upon as an unclean
creature, and would die in some corner, like a scurvy dog. The prospect of
so frightful an existence drives these poor creatures to the sacrifice much
more than love or religious fanaticism. Sometimes, however, the sacrifice
is really voluntary, and it requires the active interference of the
Government to prevent it. Several years ago, when I was living at Bombay, a
young widow asked permission of the governor to be burned along with her
husband's body; but, as you may imagine, he refused. The woman left the
town, took refuge with an independent rajah, and there carried out her
self-devoted purpose."

     While Sir Francis was speaking, the guide shook his head several
times, and now said: "The sacrifice which will take place to-morrow at dawn
is not a voluntary one."

     "How do you know?"

     "Everybody knows about this affair in Bundelcund."

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     "But the wretched creature did not seem to be making any resistance,"
observed Sir Francis.

     "That was because they had intoxicated her with fumes of hemp and
opium."

     "But where are they taking her?"

     "To the pagoda of Pillaji, two miles from here; she will pass the
night there."

     "And the sacrifice will take place -- "

     "To-morrow, at the first light of dawn."

     The guide now led the elephant out of the thicket, and leaped upon his
neck. Just at the moment that he was about to urge Kiouni forward with a
peculiar whistle, Mr. Fogg stopped him, and, turning to Sir Francis
Cromarty, said, "Suppose we save this woman."

     "Save the woman, Mr. Fogg!"

     "I have yet twelve hours to spare; I can devote them to that."

     "Why, you are a man of heart!"

     "Sometimes," replied Phileas Fogg, quietly; "when I have the time."

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                                 Chapter 13

  IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT RECEIVES A NEW PROOF THAT FORTUNE FAVORS THE BRAVE

     The project was a bold one, full of difficulty, perhaps impracticable.
Mr. Fogg was going to risk life, or at least liberty, and therefore the
success of his tour. But he did not hesitate, and he found in Sir Francis
Cromarty an enthusiastic ally.

     As for Passepartout, he was ready for anything that might be proposed.
His master's idea charmed him; he perceived a heart, a soul, under that icy
exterior. He began to love Phileas Fogg.

     There remained the guide: what course would he adopt? Would he not
take part with the Indians? In default of his assistance, it was necessary
to be assured of his neutrality.

     Sir Francis frankly put the question to him.

     "Officers," replied the guide, "I am a Parsee, and this woman is a
Parsee. Command me as you will."

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     "Excellent!" said Mr. Fogg.

     "However," resumed the guide, "it is certain, not only that we shall
risk our lives, but horrible tortures, if we are taken."

     "That is foreseen," replied Mr. Fogg. "I think we must wait till night
before acting."

     "I think so," said the guide.

     The worthy Indian then gave some account of the victim, who, he said,
was a celebrated beauty of the Parsee race, and the daughter of a wealthy
Bombay merchant. She had received a thoroughly English education in that
city, and, from her manners and intelligence, would be thought an European.
Her name was Aouda. Left an orphan, she was married against her will to the
old rajah of Bundelcund; and, knowing the fate that awaited her, she
escaped, was retaken, and devoted by the rajah's relatives, who had an
interest in her death, to the sacrifice from which it seemed she could not
escape. The Parsee's narrative only confirmed Mr. Fogg and his companions
in their generous design. It was decided that the guide should direct the
elephant towards the pagoda of Pillaji, which he accordingly approached as
quickly as possible. They halted, half an hour afterwards, in a copse, some
five hundred feet from the pagoda, where they were well concealed; but they
could hear the groans and cries of the fakirs distinctly.

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     They then discussed the means of getting at the victim. The guide was
familiar with the pagoda of Pillaji, in which, as he declared, the young
woman was imprisoned. Could they enter any of its doors while the whole
party of Indians was plunged in a drunken sleep, or was it safer to attempt
to make a hole in the walls? This could only be determined at the moment
and the place themselves; but it was certain that the abduction must be
made that night, and not when, at break of day, the victim was led to her
funeral pyre. Then no human intervention could save her.

     As soon as night fell, about six o'clock, they decided to make a
reconnaissance around the pagoda. The cries of the fakirs were just
ceasing; the Indians were in the act of plunging themselves into the
drunkenness caused by liquid opium mingled with hemp, and it might be
possible to slip between them to the temple itself.

     The Parsee, leading the others, noiselessly crept through the wood,
and in ten minutes they found themselves on the banks of a small stream,
whence, by the light of the rosin torches, they perceived a pyre of wood,
on the top of which lay the embalmed body of the rajah, which was to be
burned with his wife. The pagoda, whose minarets loomed above the trees in
the deepening dusk, stood a hundred steps away.

     "Come!" whispered the guide.

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     He slipped more cautiously than ever through the brush, followed by
his companions; the silence around was only broken by the low murmuring of
the wind among the branches.

     Soon the Parsee stopped on the borders of the glade, which was lit up
by the torches. The ground was covered by groups of the Indians, motionless
in their drunken sleep; it seemed a battlefield strewn with the dead. Men,
women, and children lay together.

     In the background, among the trees, the pagoda of Pillaji loomed
distinctly. Much to the guide's disappointment, the guards of the rajah,
lighted by torches, were watching at the doors and marching to and fro with
naked sabres; probably the priests, too, were watching within.

     The Parsee, now convinced that it was impossible to force an entrance
to the temple, advanced no farther, but led his companions back again.
Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty also saw that nothing could be
attempted in that direction. They stopped, and engaged in a whispered
colloquy.

     "It is only eight now," said the brigadier, "and these guards may also
go to sleep."

     "It is not impossible," returned the Parsee.

     They lay down at the foot of a tree, and waited.

     The time seemed long; the guide ever and anon left them to take an
observation on the edge of the wood, but
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the guards watched steadily by the glare of the torches, and a dim light
crept through the windows of the pagoda.

     They waited till midnight; but no change took place among the guards,
and it became apparent that their yielding to sleep could not be counted
on. The other plan must be carried out; an opening in the walls of the
pagoda must be made. It remained to ascertain whether the priests were
watching by the side of their victim as assiduously as were the soldiers at
the door.

     After a last consultation, the guide announced that he was ready for
the attempt, and advanced, followed by the others. They took a roundabout
way, so as to get at the pagoda on the rear. They reached the walls about
half-past twelve, without having met anyone; here there was no guard, nor
were there either windows or doors.

     The night was dark. The moon, on the wane, scarcely left the horizon,
and was covered with heavy clouds; the height of the trees deepened the
darkness.

     It was not enough to reach the walls; an opening in them must be
accomplished, and to attain this purpose the party only had their
pocket-knives. Happily the temple walls were built of brick and wood, which
could be penetrated with little difficulty; after one brick had been taken
out, the rest would yield easily.

     They set noiselessly to work, and the Parsee on one side and
Passepartout on the other began to loosen the bricks
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so as to make an aperture two feet wide. They were getting on rapidly, when
suddenly a cry was heard in the interior of the temple, followed almost
instantly by other cries replying from the outside. Passepartout and the
guide stopped. Had they been heard? Was the alarm being given? Common
prudence urged them to retire, and they did so, followed by Phileas Fogg
and Sir Francis. They again hid themselves in the wood, and waited till the
disturbance, whatever it might be, ceased, holding themselves ready to
resume their attempt without delay. But, awkwardly enough, the guards now
appeared at the rear of the temple, and there installed themselves, in
readiness to prevent a surprise.

     It would be difficult to describe the disappointment of the party,
thus interrupted in their work. They could not now reach the victim; how,
then, could they save her? Sir Francis shook his fists, Passepartout was
beside himself, and the guide gnashed his teeth with rage. The tranquil
Fogg waited, without betraying any emotion.

     "We have nothing to do but to go away," whispered Sir Francis.

     "Nothing but to go away," echoed the guide.

     "Stop," said Fogg. "I am only due at Allahabad tomorrow before noon."

     "But what can you hope to do?" asked Sir Francis. "In a few hours it
will be daylight, and -- "

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     "The chance which now seems lost may present itself at the last
moment."

     Sir Francis would have liked to read Phileas Fogg's eyes. What was
this cool Englishman thinking of? Was he planning to make a rush for the
young woman at the very moment of the sacrifice, and boldly snatch her from
her executioners?

     This would be utter folly, and it was hard to admit that Fogg was such
a fool. Sir Francis consented, however, to remain to the end of this
terrible drama. The guide led them to the rear of the glade, where they
were able to observe the sleeping groups.

     Meanwhile Passepartout, who had perched himself on the lower branches
of a tree, was resolving an idea which had at first struck him like a
flash, and which was now firmly lodged in his brain.

     He had commenced by saying to himself, "What folly!" and then he
repeated, "Why not, after all? It's a chance perhaps the only one; and with
such sots!" Thinking thus, he slipped, with the suppleness of a serpent, to
the lowest branches, the ends of which bent almost to the ground.

     The hours passed, and the lighter shades now announced the approach of
day, though it was not yet light. This was the moment. The slumbering
multitude became
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animated, the tambourines sounded, songs and cries arose; the hour of the
sacrifice had come. The doors of the pagoda swung open, and a bright light
escaped from its interior, in the midst of which Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis
espied the victim. She seemed, having shaken off the stupor of
intoxication, to be striving to escape from her executioner. Sir Francis's
heart throbbed; and, convulsively seizing Mr. Fogg's hand, found in it an
open knife. Just at this moment the crowd began to move. The young woman
had again fallen into a stupor caused by the fumes of hemp, and passed
among the fakirs, who escorted her with their wild, religious cries.

     Phileas Fogg and his companions, mingling in the rear ranks of the
crowd, followed; and in two minutes they reached the banks of the stream,
and stopped fifty paces from the pyre, upon which still lay the rajah's
corpse. In the semi-obscurity they saw the victim, quite senseless,
stretched out beside her husband's body. Then a torch was brought, and the
wood, heavily soaked with oil, instantly took fire.

     At this moment Sir Francis and the guide seized Phileas Fogg, who, in
an instant of mad generosity, was about to rush upon the pyre. But he had
quickly pushed them aside, when the whole scene suddenly changed. A cry of
terror arose. The whole multitude prostrated themselves, terror-stricken,
on the ground.

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     The old rajah was not dead, then, since he rose of a sudden, like a
spectre, took up his wife in his arms, and descended from the pyre in the
midst of the clouds of smoke, which only heightened his ghostly appearance.

     Fakirs and soldiers and priests, seized with instant terror, lay
there, with their faces on the ground, not daring to lift their eyes and
behold such a prodigy.

     The inanimate victim was borne along by the vigorous arms which
supported her, and which she did not seem in the least to burden. Mr. Fogg
and Sir Francis stood erect, the Parsee bowed his head, and Passepartout
was, no doubt, scarcely less stupefied.

     The resuscitated rajah approached Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg, and, in an
abrupt tone, said, "Let us be off!"

     It was Passepartout himself, who had slipped upon the pyre in the
midst of the smoke and, profiting by the still overhanging darkness, had
delivered the young woman from death! It was Passepartout who, playing his
part with a happy audacity, had passed through the crowd amid the general
terror.

     A moment after all four of the party had disappeared in the woods, and
the elephant was bearing them away at a rapid pace. But the cries and
noise, and a ball which whizzed through Phileas Fogg's hat, apprised them
that the trick had been discovered.

     The old rajah's body, indeed, now appeared upon the
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burning pyre; and the priests, recovered from their terror, perceived that
an abduction had taken place. They hastened into the forest, followed by
the soldiers, who fired a volley after the fugitives; but the latter
rapidly increased the distance between them, and ere long found themselves
beyond the reach of the bullets and arrows.

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                                 Chapter 14

 IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG DESCENDS THE WHOLE LENGTH OF THE BEAUTIFUL VALLEY OF
               THE GANGES WITHOUT EVER THINKING OF SEEING IT

     The rash exploit had been accomplished; and for an hour Passepartout
laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis pressed the worthy fellow's hand,
and his master said, "Well done!" which, from him, was high commendation;
to which Passepartout replied that all the credit of the affair belonged to
Mr. Fogg. As for him, he had only been struck with a "queer" idea; and he
laughed to think that for a few moments he, Passepartout, the ex-gymnast,
ex-sergeant fireman, had been the spouse of a charming woman, a venerable,
embalmed rajah! As for the young Indian woman, she had been unconscious
throughout of what was passing, and now, wrapped up in a
travelling-blanket, was reposing in one of the howdahs.

     The elephant, thanks to the skilful guidance of the
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Parsee, was advancing rapidly through the still darksome forest, and, an
hour after leaving the pagoda, had crossed a vast plain. They made a halt
at seven o'clock, the young woman being still in a state of complete
prostration. The guide made her drink a little brandy and water, but the
drowsiness which stupefied her could not yet be shaken off. Sir Francis,
who was familiar with the effects of the intoxication produced by the fumes
of hemp, reassured his companions on her account. But he was more disturbed
at the prospect of her future fate. He told Phileas Fogg that, should Aouda
remain in India, she would inevitably fall again into the hands of her
executioners. These fanatics were scattered throughout the county, and
would, despite the English police, recover their victim at Madras, Bombay,
or Calcutta. She would only be safe by quitting India for ever.

     Phileas Fogg replied that he would reflect upon the matter.

     The station at Allahabad was reached about ten o'clock, and, the
interrupted line of railway being resumed, would enable them to reach
Calcutta in less than twenty-four hours. Phileas Fogg would thus be able to
arrive in time to take the steamer which left Calcutta the next day,
October 25th, at noon, for Hong Kong.

     The young woman was placed in one of the waiting-rooms of the station,
whilst Passepartout was charged with purchasing
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for her various articles of toilet, a dress, shawl, and some furs; for
which his master gave him unlimited credit. Passepartout started off
forthwith, and found himself in the streets of Allahabad, that is, the City
of God, one of the most venerated in India, being built at the junction of
the two sacred rivers, Ganges and Jumna, the waters of which attract
pilgrims from every part of the peninsula. The Ganges, according to the
legends of the Ramayana, rises in heaven, whence, owing to Brahma's agency,
it descends to the earth.

     Passepartout made it a point, as he made his purchases, to take a good
look at the city. It was formerly defended by a noble fort, which has since
become a state prison; its commerce has dwindled away, and Passepartout in
vain looked about him for such a bazaar as he used to frequent in Regent
Street. At last he came upon an elderly, crusty Jew, who sold second-hand
articles, and from whom he purchased a dress of Scotch stuff, a large
mantle, and a fine otter-skin pelisse, for which he did not hesitate to pay
seventy-five pounds. He then returned triumphantly to the station.

     The influence to which the priests of Pillaji had subjected Aouda
began gradually to yield, and she became more herself, so that her fine
eyes resumed all their soft Indian expression.

     When the poet-king, Ucaf Uddaul, celebrates the
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Page 102

charms of the queen of Ahmehnagara, he speaks thus:

     "Her shining tresses, divided in two parts, encircle the harmonious
contour of her white and delicate cheeks, brilliant in their glow and
freshness. Her ebony brows have the form and charm of the bow of Kama, the
god of love, and beneath her long silken lashes the purest reflections and
a celestial light swim, as in the sacred lakes of Himalaya, in the black
pupils of her great clear eyes. Her teeth, fine, equal, and white, glitter
between her smiling lips like dewdrops in a passion-flower's half-enveloped
breast. Her delicately formed ears, her vermilion hands, her little feet,
curved and tender as the lotus-bud, glitter with the brilliancy of the
loveliest pearls of Ceylon, the most dazzling diamonds of Golconda. Her
narrow and supple waist, which a hand may clasp around, sets forth the
outline of her rounded figure and the beauty of her bosom, where youth in
its flower displays the wealth of its treasures; and beneath the silken
folds of her tunic she seems to have been modelled in pure silver by the
godlike hand of Vicvarcarma, the immortal sculptor."

     It is enough to say, without applying this poetical rhapsody to Aouda,
that she was a charming woman, in all the European acceptation of the
phrase. She spoke English with great purity, and the guide had not
exaggerated in saying that the young Parsee had been transformed by her
bringing up.

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Page 103

     The train was about to start from Allahabad, and Mr. Fogg proceeded to
pay the guide the price agreed upon for his service, and not a farthing
more; which astonished Passepartout, who remembered all that his master
owed to the guide's devotion. He had, indeed, risked his life in the
adventure at Pillaji, and, if he should be caught afterwards by the
Indians, he would with difficulty escape their vengeance. Kiouni, also,
must be disposed of. What should be done with the elephant, which had been
so dearly purchased? Phileas Fogg had already determined this question.

     "Parsee," said he to the guide, "you have been serviceable and
devoted. I have paid for your service, but not for your devotion. Would you
like to have this elephant? He is yours."

     The guide's eyes glistened.

     "Your honour is giving me a fortune!" cried he.

     "Take him, guide," returned Mr. Fogg, "and I shall still be your
debtor."

     "Good!" exclaimed Passepartout. "Take him, friend. Kiouni is a brave
and faithful beast." And, going up to the elephant, he gave him several
lumps of sugar, saying, "Here, Kiouni, here, here."

     The elephant grunted out his satisfaction, and, clasping Passepartout
around the waist with his trunk, lifted him as high as his head.
Passepartout, not in the least alarmed,
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Page 104

caressed the animal, which replaced him gently on the ground.

     Soon after, Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty, and Passepartout,
installed in a carriage with Aouda, who had the best seat, were whirling at
full speed towards Benares. It was a run of eighty miles, and was
accomplished in two hours. During the journey, the young woman fully
recovered her senses. What was her astonishment to find herself in this
carriage, on the railway, dressed in European habiliments, and with
travellers who were quite strangers to her! Her companions first set about
fully reviving her with a little liquor, and then Sir Francis narrated to
her what had passed, dwelling upon the courage with which Phileas Fogg had
not hesitated to risk his life to save her, and recounting the happy sequel
of the venture, the result of Passepartout's rash idea. Mr. Fogg said
nothing; while Passepartout, abashed, kept repeating that "it wasn't worth
telling."

     Aouda pathetically thanked her deliverers, rather with tears than
words; her fine eyes interpreted her gratitude better than her lips. Then,
as her thoughts strayed back to the scene of the sacrifice, and recalled
the dangers which still menaced her, she shuddered with terror.

     Phileas Fogg understood what was passing in Aouda's mind, and offered,
in order to reassure her, to escort her to Hong Kong, where she might
remain safely until the affair
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Page 105

was hushed up -- an offer which she eagerly and gratefully accepted. She
had, it seems, a Parsee relation, who was one of the principal merchants of
Hong Kong, which is wholly an English city, though on an island on the
Chinese coast.

     At half-past twelve the train stopped at Benares. The Brahmin legends
assert that this city is built on the site of the ancient Casi, which, like
Mahomet's tomb, was once suspended between heaven and earth; though the
Benares of to-day, which the Orientalists call the Athens of India, stands
quite unpoetically on the solid earth, Passepartout caught glimpses of its
brick houses and clay huts, giving an aspect of desolation to the place, as
the train entered it.

     Benares was Sir Francis Cromarty's destination, the troops he was
rejoining being encamped some miles northward of the city. He bade adieu to
Phileas Fogg, wishing him all success, and expressing the hope that he
would come that way again in a less original but more profitable fashion.
Mr. Fogg lightly pressed him by the hand. The parting of Aouda, who did not
forget what she owed to Sir Francis, betrayed more warmth; and, as for
Passepartout, he received a hearty shake of the hand from the gallant
general.

     The railway, on leaving Benares, passed for a while along the valley
of the Ganges. Through the windows of their carriage the travellers had
glimpses of the diversified landscape
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 106

of Behar, with its mountains clothed in verdure, its fields of barley,
wheat, and corn, its jungles peopled with green alligators, its neat
villages, and its still thickly-leaved forests. Elephants were bathing in
the waters of the sacred river, and groups of Indians, despite the advanced
season and chilly air, were performing solemnly their pious ablutions.
These were fervent Brahmins, the bitterest foes of Buddhism, their deities
being Vishnu, the solar god, Shiva, the divine impersonation of natural
forces, and Brahma, the supreme ruler of priests and legislators. What
would these divinities think of India, anglicised as it is to-day, with
steamers whistling and scudding along the Ganges, frightening the gulls
which float upon its surface, the turtles swarming along its banks, and the
faithful dwelling upon its borders?

     The panorama passed before their eyes like a flash, save when the
steam concealed it fitfully from the view; the travellers could scarcely
discern the fort of Chupenie, twenty miles south-westward from Benares, the
ancient stronghold of the rajahs of Behar; or Ghazipur and its famous
rose-water factories; or the tomb of Lord Cornwallis, rising on the left
bank of the Ganges; the fortified town of Buxar, or Patna, a large
manufacturing and trading-place, where is held the principal opium market
of India; or Monghir, a more than European town, for it is as English as
Manchester or Birmingham, with its iron
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Page 107

foundries, edgetool factories, and high chimneys puffing clouds of black
smoke heavenward.

     Night came on; the train passed on at full speed, in the midst of the
roaring of the tigers, bears, and wolves which fled before the locomotive;
and the marvels of Bengal, Golconda ruined Gour, Murshedabad, the ancient
capital, Burdwan, Hugly, and the French town of Chandernagor, where
Passepartout would have been proud to see his country's flag flying, were
hidden from their view in the darkness.

     Calcutta was reached at seven in the morning, and the packet left for
Hong Kong at noon; so that Phileas Fogg had five hours before him.

     According to his journal, he was due at Calcutta on the 25th of
October, and that was the exact date of his actual arrival. He was
therefore neither behind-hand nor ahead of time. The two days gained
between London and Bombay had been lost, as has been seen, in the journey
across India. But it is not to be supposed that Phileas Fogg regretted
them.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
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                                 Chapter 15

   IN WHICH THE BAG OF BANKNOTES DISGORGES SOME THOUSANDS OF POUNDS MORE

     The train entered the station, and Passepartout jumping out first, was
followed by Mr. Fogg, who assisted his fair companion to descend. Phileas
Fogg intended to proceed at once to the Hong Kong steamer, in order to get
Aouda comfortably settled for the voyage. He was unwilling to leave her
while they were still on dangerous ground.

     Just as he was leaving the station a policeman came up to him, and
said, "Mr. Phileas Fogg?"

     "I am he."

     "Is this man your servant?" added the policeman, pointing to
Passepartout.

     "Yes."

     "Be so good, both of you, as to follow me."

     Mr. Fogg betrayed no surprise whatever. The policeman was a
representative of the law, and law is sacred to an
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Page 109

Englishman. Passepartout tried to reason about the matter, but the
policeman tapped him with his stick, and Mr. Fogg made him a signal to
obey.

     "May this young lady go with us?" asked he.

     "She may," replied the policeman.

     Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout were conducted to a palkigahri, a
sort of four-wheeled carriage, drawn by two horses, in which they took
their places and were driven away. No one spoke during the twenty minutes
which elapsed before they reached their destination. They first passed
through the "black town," with its narrow streets, its miserable, dirty
huts, and squalid population; then through the "European town," which
presented a relief in its bright brick mansions, shaded by coconut-trees
and bristling with masts, where, although it was early morning, elegantly
dressed horsemen and handsome equipages were passing back and forth.

     The carriage stopped before a modest-looking house, which, however,
did not have the appearance of a private mansion. The policeman having
requested his prisoners for so, truly, they might be called-to descend,
conducted them into a room with barred windows, and said: "You will appear
before Judge Obadiah at half-past eight."

     He then retired, and closed the door.

     "Why, we are prisoners!" exclaimed Passepartout, falling into a chair.

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Page 110

     Aouda, with an emotion she tried to conceal, said to Mr. Fogg: "Sir,
you must leave me to my fate! It is on my account that you receive this
treatment, it is for having saved me!"

     Phileas Fogg contented himself with saying that it was impossible. It
was quite unlikely that he should be arrested for preventing a suttee. The
complainants would not dare present themselves with such a charge. There
was some mistake. Moreover, he would not, in any event, abandon Aouda, but
would escort her to Hong Kong.

     "But the steamer leaves at noon!" observed Passepartout, nervously.

     "We shall be on board by noon," replied his master, placidly.

     It was said so positively that Passepartout could not help muttering
to himself, "Parbleu that's certain! Before noon we shall be on board." But
he was by no means reassured.

     At half-past eight the door opened, the policeman appeared, and,
requesting them to follow him, led the way to an adjoining hall. It was
evidently a court-room, and a crowd of Europeans and natives already
occupied the rear of the apartment.

     Mr. Fogg and his two companions took their places on a bench opposite
the desks of the magistrate and his clerk. Immediately after, Judge
Obadiah, a fat, round man,
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Page 111

followed by the clerk, entered. He proceeded to take down a wig which was
hanging on a nail, and put it hurriedly on his head.

     "The first case," said he. Then, putting his hand to his head, he
exclaimed, "Heh! This is not my wig!"

     "No, your worship," returned the clerk, "it is mine."

     "My dear Mr. Oysterpuff, how can a judge give a wise sentence in a
clerk's wig?"

     The wigs were exchanged.

     Passepartout was getting nervous, for the hands on the face of the big
clock over the judge seemed to go around with terrible rapidity.

     "The first case," repeated Judge Obadiah.

     "Phileas Fogg?" demanded Oysterpuff.

     "I am here," replied Mr. Fogg.

     "Passepartout?"

     "Present," responded Passepartout.

     "Good," said the judge. "You have been looked for, prisoners, for two
days on the trains from Bombay."

     "But of what are we accused?" asked Passepartout, impatiently.

     "You are about to be informed."

     "I am an English subject, sir," said Mr. Fogg, "and I have the right
-- "

     "Have you been ill-treated?"

     "Not at all."

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Page 112

     "Very well; let the complainants come in."

     A door was swung open by order of the judge, and three Indian priests
entered.

     "That's it," muttered Passepartout; "these are the rogues who were
going to burn our young lady."

     The priests took their places in front of the judge, and the clerk
proceeded to read in a loud voice a complaint of sacrilege against Phileas
Fogg and his servant, who were accused of having violated a place held
consecrated by the Brahmin religion.

     "You hear the charge?" asked the judge.

     "Yes, sir," replied Mr. Fogg, consulting his watch, "and I admit it."

     "You admit it?"

     "I admit it, and I wish to hear these priests admit, in their turn,
what they were going to do at the pagoda of Pillaji."

     The priests looked at each other; they did not seem to understand what
was said.

     "Yes," cried Passepartout, warmly; "at the pagoda of Pillaji, where
they were on the point of burning their victim."

     The judge stared with astonishment, and the priests were stupefied.

     "What victim?" said Judge Obadiah. "Burn whom? In Bombay itself?"

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Page 113

     "Bombay?" cried Passepartout.

     "Certainly. We are not talking of the pagoda of Pillaji, but of the
pagoda of Malabar Hill, at Bombay."

     "And as a proof," added the clerk, "here are the desecrator's very
shoes, which he left behind him."

     Whereupon he placed a pair of shoes on his desk.

     "My shoes!" cried Passepartout, in his surprise permitting this
imprudent exclamation to escape him.

     The confusion of master and man, who had quite forgotten the affair at
Bombay, for which they were now detained at Calcutta, may be imagined.

     Fix the detective, had foreseen the advantage which Passepartout's
escapade gave him, and, delaying his departure for twelve hours, had
consulted the priests of Malabar Hill. Knowing that the English authorities
dealt very severely with this kind of misdemeanour, he promised them a
goodly sum in damages, and sent them forward to Calcutta by the next train.
Owing to the delay caused by the rescue of the young widow, Fix and the
priests reached the Indian capital before Mr. Fogg and his servant, the
magistrates having been already warned by a dispatch to arrest them should
they arrive. Fix's disappointment when he learned that Phileas Fogg had not
made his appearance in Calcutta may be imagined. He made up his mind that
the robber had stopped somewhere on the route and taken refuge in the
southern provinces. For
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 114

twenty-four houis Fix watched the station with feverish anxiety; at last he
was rewarded by seeing Mr. Fogg and Passepartout arrive, accompanied by a
young woman, whose presence he was wholly at a loss to explain. He hastened
for a policeman; and this was how the party came to be arrested and brought
before Judge Obadiah.

     Had Passepartout been a little less preoccupied, he would have espied
the detective ensconced in a corner of the court-room, watching the
proceedings with an interest easily understood; for the warrant had failed
to reach him at Calcutta, as it had done at Bombay and Suez.

     Judge Obadiah had unfortunately caught Passepartout's rash
exclamation, which the poor fellow would have given the world to recall.

     "The facts are admitted?" asked the judge.

     "Admitted," replied Mr. Fogg, coldly.

     "Inasmuch," resumed the judge, "as the English law protects equally
and sternly the religions of the Indian people, and as the man Passepartout
has admitted that he violated the sacred pagoda of Malabar Hill, at Bombay,
on the 20th of October, I condemn the said Passepartout to imprisonment for
fifteen days and a fine of three hundred pounds."

     "Three hundred pounds!" cried Passepartout, startled at the largeness
of the sum.

     "Silence!" shouted the constable.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 115

     "And inasmuch," continued the judge, "as it is not proved that the act
was not done by the connivance of the master with the servant, and as the
master in any case must be held responsible for the acts of his paid
servant, I condemn Phileas Fogg to a week's imprisonment and a fine of one
hundred and fifty pounds."

     Fix rubbed his hands softly with satisfaction; if Phileas Fogg could
be detained in Calcutta a week, it would be more than time for the warrant
to arrive. Passepartout was stupefied. This sentence ruined his master. A
wager of twenty thousand pounds lost, because he, like a precious fool, had
gone into that abominable pagoda!

     Phileas Fogg, as self-composed as if the judgmient did not in the
least concern him, did not even lift his eyebrows while it was being
pronounced. Just as the clerk was calling the next case, he rose, and said,
"I offer bail."

     "You have that right," returned the judge.

     Fix's blood ran cold, but he resumed his composure when he heard the
judge announce that the bail required for each prisoner would be one
thousand pounds.

     "I will pay it at once," said Mr. Fogg, taking a roll of bank-bills
from the carpet-bag, which Passepartout had by him, and placing them on the
clerk's desk.

     "This sum will be restored to you upon your release from prison," said
the judge. "Meanwhile, you are liberated on bail."

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 116

     "Come!" said Phileas Fogg to his servant.

     "But let them at least give me back my shoes!" cried Passepartout
angrily.

     "Ah, these are pretty dear shoes!" he muttered, as they were handed to
him. "More than a thousand pounds apiece; besides, they pinch my feet."

     Mr. Fogg, offering his arm to Aouda, then departed, followed by the
crestfallen Passepartout. Fix still nourished hopes that the robber would
not, after all, leave the two thousand pounds behind him, but would decide
to serve out his week in jail, and issued forth on Mr. Fogg's traces. That
gentleman took a carriage, and the party were soon landed on one of the
quays.

     The Rangoon was moored half a mile off in the harbour, its signal of
departure hoisted at the mast-head. Eleven o'clock was striking; Mr. Fogg
was an hour in advance of time. Fix saw them leave the carriage and push
off in a boat for the steamer, and stamped his feet with disappointment.

     "The rascal is off, after all!" he exclaimed. "Two thousand pounds
sacrificed! He's as prodigal as a thief! I'll follow him to the end of the
world if necessary; but, at the rate he is going on, the stolen money will
soon be exhausted."

     The detective was not far wrong in making this conjecture. Since
leaving London, what with travelling expenses,
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Page 117

bribes, the purchase of the elephant, bails, and fines, Mr. Fogg had
already spent more than five thousand pounds on the way, and the percentage
of the sum recovered from the bank robber promised to the detectives, was
rapidly diminishing.

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Page 118

                                 Chapter 16

 IN WHICH FIX DOES NOT SEEM TO UNDERSTAND IN THE LEAST WHAT IS SAID TO HIM

     The Rangoon -- one of the Peninsular and Oriental Company's boats
plying in the Chinese and Japanese seas -- was a screw steamer, built of
iron, weighing about seventeen hundred and seventy tons, and with engines
of four hundred horse-power. She was as fast, but not as well fitted up, as
the Mongolia, and Aouda was not as comfortably provided for on board of her
as Phileas Fogg could have wished. However, the trip from Calcutta to Hong
Kong only comprised some three thousand five hundred miles, occupying from
ten to twelve days, and the young woman was not difficult to please.

     During the first days of the journey Aouda became better acquainted
with her protector, and constantly gave evidence of her deep gratitude for
what he had done. The phlegmatic gentleman listened to her, apparently at
least,
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Page 119

with coldness, neither his voice nor his manner betraying the slightest
emotion; but he seemed to be always on the watch that nothing should be
wanting to Aouda's comfort. He visited her regularly each day at certain
hours, not so much to talk himself, as to sit and hear her talk. He treated
her with the strictest politeness, but with the precision of an automaton,
the movements of which had been arranged for this purpose. Aouda did not
quite know what to make of him, though Passepartout had given her some
hints of his master's eccentricity, and made her smile by telling her of
the wager which was sending him round the world. After all, she owed
Phileas Fogg her life, and she always regarded him through the exalting
medium of her gratitude.

     Aouda confirmed the Parsee guide's narrative of her touching history.
She did, indeed, belong to the highest of the native races of India. Many
of the Parsee merchants have made great fortunes there by dealing in
cotton; and one of them, Sir Jametsee Jeejeebhoy, was made a baronet by the
English government. Aouda was a relative of this great man, and it was his
cousin, Jeejeeh, whom she hoped to join at Hong Kong. Whether she would
find a protector in him she could not tell; but Mr. Fogg essayed to calm
her anxieties, and to assure her that everything would be mathematically --
he used the very word -- arranged. Aouda fastened her great eyes, "clear as
the
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 120

sacred lakes of the Himalaya," upon him; but the intractable Fogg, as
reserved as ever, did not seem at all inclined to throw himself into this
lake.

     The first few days of the voyage passed prosperously, amid favourable
weather and propitious winds, and they soon came in sight of the great
Andaman, the principal of the islands in the Bay of Bengal, with its
picturesque Saddle Peak, two thousand four hundred feet high, looming above
the waters. The steamer passed along near the shores, but the savage
Papuans, who are in the lowest scale of humanity, but are not, as has been
asserted, cannibals, did not make their appearance.

     The panorama of the islands, as they steamed by them, was superb. Vast
forests of palms, arecs, bamboo, teakwood, of the gigantic mimosa, and
tree-like ferns covered the foreground, while behind, the graceful outlines
of the mountains were traced against the sky; and along the coasts swarmed
by thousands the precious swallows whose nests furnish a luxurious dish to
the tables of the Celestial Empire. The varied landscape afforded by the
Andaman Islands was soon passed, however, and the Rangoon rapidly
approached the Straits of Malacca, which gave access to the China seas.

     What was detective Fix, so unluckily drawn on from country to country,
doing all this while? He had managed to embark on the Rangoon at Calcutta
without being
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Page 121

seen by Passepartout, after leaving orders that, if the warrant should
arrive, it should be forwarded to him at Hong Kong; and he hoped to conceal
his presence to the end of the voyage. It would have been difficult to
explain why he was on board without awakening Passepartout's suspicions,
who thought him still at Bombay. But necessity impelled him, nevertheless,
to renew his acquaintance with the worthy servant, as will be seen.

     All the detective's hopes and wishes were now centred on Hong Kong;
for the steamer's stay at Singapore would be too brief to enable him to
take any steps there. The arrest must be made at Hong Kong, or the robber
would probably escape him for ever. Hong Kong was the last English ground
on which he would set foot; beyond, China, Japan, America offered to Fogg
an almost certain refuge. If the warrant should at last make its appearance
at Hong Kong, Fix could arrest him and give him into the hands of the local
police, and there would be no further trouble. But beyond Hong Kong, a
simple warrant would be of no avail; an extradition warrant would be
necessary, and that would result in delays and obstacles, of which the
rascal would take advantage to elude justice.

     Fix thought over these probabilities during the long hours which he
spent in his cabin, and kept repeating to himself, "Now, either the warrant
will be at Hong Kong, in which case I shall arrest my man, or it will not
be there; and this
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 122

time it is absolutely necessary that I should delay his departure. I have
failed at Bombay, and I have failed at Calcutta; if I fail at Hong Kong, my
reputation is lost: Cost what it may, I must succeed! But how shall I
prevent his departure, if that should turn out to be my last resource?"

     Fix made up his mind that, if worst came to worst, he would make a
confidant of Passepartout, and tell him what kind of a fellow his master
really was. That Passepartout was not Fogg's accomplice, he was very
certain. The servant, enlightened by his disclosure, and afraid of being
himself implicated in the crime, would doubtless become an ally of the
detective. But this method was a dangerous one, only to be employed when
everything else had failed. A word from Passepartout to his master would
ruin all. The detective was therefore in a sore strait. But suddenly a new
idea struck him. The presence of Aouda on the Rangoon, in company with
Phileas Fogg, gave him new material for reflection.

     Who was this woman? What combination of events had made her Fogg's
travelling companion? They had evidently met somewhere between Bombay and
Calcutta; but where? Had they met accidentally, or had Fogg gone into the
interior purposely in quest of this charming damsel? Fix was fairly
puzzled. He asked himself whether there had not been a wicked elopement;
and this idea so
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impressed itself upon his mind that he determined to make use of the
supposed intrigue. Whether the young woman were married or not, he would be
able to create such difficulties for Mr. Fogg at Hong Kong that he could
not escape by paying any amount of money.

     But could he even wait till they reached Hong Kong? Fogg had an
abominable way of jumping from one boat to another, and, before anything
could be effected, might get full under way again for Yokohama.

     Fix decided that he must warn the English authorities, and signal the
Rangoon before her arrival. This was easy to do, since the steamer stopped
at Singapore, whence there is a telegraphic wire to Hong Kong. He finally
resolved, moreover, before acting more positively, to question
Passepartout. It would not be difficult to make him talk; and, as there was
no time to lose, Fix prepared to make himself known.

     It was now the 30th of October, and on the following day the Rangoon
was due at Singapore.

     Fix emerged from his cabin and went on deck. Passepartout was
promenading up and down in the forward part of the steamer. The detective
rushed forward with every appearance of extreme surprise, and exclaimed,
"You here, on the Rangoon?"

     "What, Monsieur Fix, are you on board?" returned the really astonished
Passepartout, recognising his crony of the
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Mongolia. "Why, I left you at Bombay, and here you are, on the way to Hong
Kong! Are you going round the world too?"

     "No, no," replied Fix; "I shall stop at Hong Kong -- at least for some
days."

     "Hum!" said Passepartout, who seemed for an instant perplexed. "But
how is it I have not seen you on board since we left Calcutta?"

     "Oh, a trifle of sea-sickness -- I've been staying in my berth. The
Gulf of Bengal does not agree with me as well as the Indian Ocean. And how
is Mr. Fogg?"

     "As well and as punctual as ever, not a day behind time! But, Monsieur
Fix, you don't know that we have a young lady with us."

     "A young lady?" replied the detective, not seeming to comprehend what
was said.

     Passepartout thereupon recounted Aouda's history, the affair at the
Bombay pagoda, the purchase of the elephant for two thousand pounds, the
rescue, the arrest, and sentence of the Calcutta court, and the restoration
of Mr. Fogg and himself to liberty on bail. Fix, who was familiar with the
last events, seemed to be equally ignorant of all that Passepartout
related; and the later was charmed to find so interested a listener.

     "But does your master propose to carry this young woman to Europe?"

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     "Not at all. We are simply going to place her under the protection of
one of her relatives, a rich merchant at Hong Kong."

     "Nothing to be done there," said Fix to himself, concealing his
disappointment. "A glass of gin, Mr. Passepartout?"

     "Willingly, Monsieur Fix. We must at least have a friendly glass on
board the Rangoon."

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                                 Chapter 17

      SHOWING WHAT HAPPENED ON THE VOYAGE FROM SINGAPORE TO HONG KONG

     The detective and Passepartout met often on deck after this interview,
though Fix was reserved, and did not attempt to induce his companion to
divulge any more facts concerning Mr. Fogg. He caught a glimpse of that
mysterious gentleman once or twice; but Mr. Fogg usually confined himself
to the cabin, where he kept Aouda company, or, according to his inveterate
habit, took a hand at whist.

     Passepartout began very seriously to conjecture what strange chance
kept Fix still on the route that his master was pursuing. It was really
worth considering why this certainly very amiable and complacent person,
whom he had first met at Suez, had then encountered on board the Mongolia,
who disembarked at Bombay, which he announced as his destination, and now
turned up so unexpectedly
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on the Rangoon, was following Mr. Fogg's tracks step by step. What was
Fix's object? Passepartout was ready to wager his Indian shoes -- which he
religiously preserved that Fix would also leave Hong Kong at the same time
with them, and probably on the same steamer.

     Passepartout might have cudgelled his brain for a century without
hitting upon the real object which the detective had in view. He never
could have imagined that Phileas Fogg was being tracked as a robber around
the globe. But, as it is in human nature to attempt the solution of every
mystery, Passepartout suddenly discovered an explanation of Fix's
movements, which was in truth far from unreasonable. Fix, he thought, could
only be an agent of Mr. Fogg's friends at the Reform Club, sent to follow
him up, and to ascertain that he really went round the world as had been
agreed upon.

     "It's clear!" repeated the worthy servant to himself, proud of his
shrewdness. "He's a spy sent to keep us in view! That isn't quite the
thing, either, to be spying Mr. Fogg, who is so honourable a man! Ah,
gentlemen of the Reform, this shall cost you dear!"

     Passepartout, enchanted with his discovery, resolved to say nothing to
his master, lest he should be justly offended at this mistrust on the part
of his adversaries. But he determined to chaff Fix, when he had the chance,
with
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mysterious allusions, which, however, need not betray his real suspicions.

     During the afternoon of Wednesday, 30th October, the Rangoon entered
the Strait of Malacca, which separates the peninsula of that name from
Sumatra. The mountainous and craggy islets intercepted the beauties of this
noble island from the view of the travellers. The Rangoon weighed anchor at
Singapore the next day at four a.m., to receive coal, having gained half a
day on the prescribed time of her arrival. Phileas Fogg noted this gain in
his journal, and then, accompanied by Aouda, who betrayed a desire for a
walk on shore, disembarked.

     Fix, who suspected Mr. Fogg's every movement, followed them
cautiously, without being himself perceived; while Passepartout, laughing
in his sleeve at Fix's manoeuvres, went about his usual errands.

     The island of Singapore is not imposing in aspect, for there are no
mountains; yet its appearance is not without attractions. It is a park
checkered by pleasant highways and avenues. A handsome carriage, drawn by a
sleek pair of New Holland horses, carried Phileas Fogg and Aouda into the
midst of rows of palms with brilliant foliage, and of clove-trees, whereof
the cloves form the heart of a half-open flower. Pepper plants replaced the
prickly hedges of European fields; sago-bushes, large ferns
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with gorgeous branches, varied the aspect of this tropical clime; while
nutmeg-trees in full foliage filled the air with a penetrating perfume.
Agile and grinning bands of monkeys skipped about in the trees, nor were
tigers wanting in the jungles.

     After a drive of two hours through the country, Aouda and Mr. Fogg
returned to the town, which is a vast collection of heavy-looking,
irregular houses, surrounded by charming gardens rich in tropical fruits
and plants; and at ten o'clock they re-embarked, closely followed by the
detective, who had kept them constantly in sight.

     Passepartout, who had been purchasing several dozen mangoes -- a fruit
as large as good-sized apples, of a dark-brown colour outside and a bright
red within, and whose white pulp, melting in the mouth, affords gourmands a
delicious sensation -- was waiting for them on deck. He was only too glad
to offer some mangoes to Aouda, who thanked him very gracefully for them.

     At eleven o'clock the Rangoon rode out of Singapore harbour, and in a
few hours the high mountains of Malacca, with their forests, inhabited by
the most beautifully-furred tigers in the world, were lost to view.
Singapore is distant some thirteen hundred miles from the island of Hong
Kong, which is a little English colony near the Chinese coast. Phileas Fogg
hoped to accomplish the journey in six days, so as to be in time for the
steamer which
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would leave on the 6th of November for Yokohama, the principal Japanese
port.

     The Rangoon had a large quota of passengers, many of whom disembarked
at Singapore, among them a number of Indians, Ceylonese, Chinamen, Malays,
and Portuguese, mostly second-class travellers.

     The weather, which had hitherto been fine, changed with the last
quarter of the moon. The sea rolled heavily, and the wind at intervals rose
almost to a storm, but happily blew from the south-west, and thus aided the
steamer's progress. The captain as often as possible put up his sails, and
under the double action of steam and sail the vessel made rapid progress
along the coasts of Anam and Cochin China. Owing to the defective
construction of the Rangoon, however, unusual precautions became necessary
in unfavourable weather; but the loss of time which resulted from this
cause, while it nearly drove Passepartout out of his senses, did not seem
to affect his master in the least. Passepartout blamed the captain, the
engineer, and the crew, and consigned all who were connected with the ship
to the land where the pepper grows. Perhaps the thought of the gas, which
was remorselessly burning at his expense in Saville Row, had something to
do with his hot impatience.

     "You are in a great hurry, then," said Fix to him one day, "to reach
Hong Kong?"

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     "A very great hurry!"

     "Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch the steamer for Yokohama?"

     "Terribly anxious."

     "You believe in this journey around the world, then?"

     "Absolutely. Don't you, Mr. Fix?"

     "I? I don't believe a word of it."

     "You're a sly dog!" said Passepartout, winking at him.

     This expression rather disturbed Fix, without his knowing why. Had the
Frenchman guessed his real purpose? He knew not what to think. But how
could Passepartout have discovered that he was a detective? Yet, in
speaking as he did, the man evidently meant more than he expressed.

     Passepartout went still further the next day; he could not hold his
tongue.

     "Mr. Fix," said he, in a bantering tone, "shall we be so unfortunate
as to lose you when we get to Hong Kong?"

     "Why," responded Fix, a little embarrassed, "I don't know; perhaps --
"

     "Ah, if you would only go on with us! An agent of the Peninsular
Company, you know, can't stop on the way! You were only going to Bombay,
and here you are in China. America is not far off, and from America to
Europe is only a step."

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     Fix looked intently at his companion, whose countenance was as serene
as possible, and laughed with him. But Passepartout persisted in chaffing
him by asking him if he made much by his present occupation.

     "Yes, and no," returned Fix; "there is good and bad luck in such
things. But you must understand that I don't travel at my own expense."

     "Oh, I am quite sure of that!" cried Passepartout, laughing heartily.

     Fix, fairly puzzled, descended to his cabin and gave himself up to his
reflections. He was evidently suspected; somehow or other the Frenchman had
found out that he was a detective. But had he told his master? What part
was he playing in all this: was he an accomplice or not? Was the game,
then, up? Fix spent several hours turning these things over in his mind,
sometimes thinking that all was lost, then persuading himself that Fogg was
ignorant of his presence, and then undecided what course it was best to
take.

     Nevertheless, he preserved his coolness of mind, and at last resolved
to deal plainly with Passepartout. If he did not find it practicable to
arrest Fogg at Hong Kong, and if Fogg made preparations to leave that last
foothold of English territory, he, Fix, would tell Passepartout all. Either
the servant was the accomplice of his master, and in this case the master
knew of his operations, and he
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Page 133

should fail; or else the servant knew nothing about the robbery, and then
his interest would be to abandon the robber.

     Such was the situation between Fix and Passepartout. Meanwhile Phileas
Fogg moved about above them in the most majestic and unconscious
indifference. He was passing methodically in his orbit around the world,
regardless of the lesser stars which gravitated around him. Yet there was
near by what the astronomers would call a disturbing star, which might have
produced an agitation in this gentleman's heart. But no! the charms of
Aouda failed to act, to Passepartout's great surprise; and the
disturbances, if they existed, would have been more difficult to calculate
than those of Uranus which led to the discovery of Neptune.

     It was every day an increasing wonder to Passepartout, who read in
Aouda's eyes the depths of her gratitude to his master. Phileas Fogg,
though brave and gallant, must be, he thought, quite heartless. As to the
sentiment which this journey might have awakened in him, there was clearly
no trace of such a thing; while poor Passepartout existed in perpetual
reveries.

     One day he was leaning on the railing of the engine-room, and was
observing the engine, when a sudden pitch of the steamer threw the screw
out of the water. The steam came hissing out of the valves; and this made
Passepartout indignant.

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     "The valves are not sufficiently charged!" he exclaimed. "We are not
going. Oh, these English! If this was an American craft, we should blow up,
perhaps, but we should at all events go faster!"

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                                 Chapter 18

  IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG, PASSEPARTOUT, AND FIX GO EACH ABOUT HIS BUSINESS

     The weather was bad during the latter days of the voyage. The wind,
obstinately remaining in the north-west, blew a gale, and retarded the
steamer. The Rangoon rolled heavily and the passengers became impatient of
the long, monstrous waves which the wind raised before their path. A sort
of tempest arose on the 3rd of November, the squall knocking the vessel
about with fury, and the waves running high. The Rangoon reefed all her
sails, and even the rigging proved too much, whistling and shaking amid the
squall. The steamer was forced to proceed slowly, and the captain estimated
that she would reach Hong Kong twenty hours behind time, and more if the
storm lasted.

     Phileas Fogg gazed at the tempestuous sea, which seemed to be
struggling especially to delay him, with his habitual tranquillity. He
never changed countenance for an instant,
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Page 136

though a delay of twenty hours, by making him too late for the Yokohama
boat, would almost inevitably cause the loss of the wager. But this man of
nerve manifested neither impatience nor annoyance; it seemed as if the
storm were a part of his programme, and had been foreseen. Aouda was amazed
to find him as calm as he had been from the first time she saw him.

     Fix did not look at the state of things in the same light. The storm
greatly pleased him. His satisfaction would have been complete had the
Rangoon been forced to retreat before the violence of wind and waves. Each
delay filled him with hope, for it became more and more probable that Fogg
would be obliged to remain some days at Hong Kong; and now the heavens
themselves became his allies, with the gusts and squalls. It mattered not
that they made him sea-sick -- he made no account of this inconvenience;
and, whilst his body was writhing under their effects, his spirit bounded
with hopeful exultation.

     Passepartout was enraged beyond expression by the unpropitious
weather. Everything had gone so well till now! Earth and sea had seemed to
be at his master's service; steamers and railways obeyed him; wind and
steam united to speed his journey. Had the hour of adversity come?
Passepartout was as much excited as if the twenty thousand pounds were to
come from his own pocket. The storm exasperated him, the gale made him
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furious, and he longed to lash the obstinate sea into obedience. Poor
fellow! Fix carefully concealed from him his own satisfaction, for, had he
betrayed it, Passepartout could scarcely have restrained himself from
personal violence.

     Passepartout remained on deck as long as the tempest lasted, being
unable to remain quiet below, and taking it into his head to aid the
progress of the ship by lending a hand with the crew. He overwhelmed the
captain, officers, and sailors, who could not help laughing at his
impatience, with all sorts of questions. He wanted to know exactly how long
the storm was going to last; whereupon he was referred to the barometer,
which seemed to have no intention of rising. Passepartout shook it, but
with no perceptible effect; for neither shaking nor maledictions could
prevail upon it to change its mind.

     On the 4th, however, the sea became more calm, and the storm lessened
its violence; the wind veered southward, and was once more favourable.
Passepartout cleared up with the weather. Some of the sails were unfurled,
and the Rangoon resumed its most rapid speed. The time lost could not,
however, be regained. Land was not signalled until five o'clock on the
morning of the 6th; the steamer was due on the 5th. Phileas Fogg was
twenty-four hours behind-hand, and the Yokohama steamer would, of course,
be missed.

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     The pilot went on board at six, and took his place on the bridge, to
guide the Rangoon through the channels to the port of Hong Kong.
Passepartout longed to ask him if the steamer had left for Yokohama; but he
dared not, for he wished to preserve the spark of hope, which still
remained till the last moment. He had confided his anxiety to Fix who --
the sly rascal! -- tried to console him by saying that Mr. Fogg would be in
time if he took the next boat; but this only put Passepartout in a passion.

     Mr. Fogg, bolder than his servant, did not hesitate to approach the
pilot, and tranquilly ask him if he knew when a steamer would leave Hong
Kong for Yokohama.

     "At high tide to-morrow morning," answered the pilot.

     "Ah!" said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any astonishment.

     Passepartout, who heard what passed, would willingly have embraced the
pilot, while Fix would have been glad to twist his neck.

     "What is the steamer's name?" asked Mr. Fogg.

     "The Carnatic."

     "Ought she not to have gone yesterday?"

     "Yes, sir; but they had to repair one of her boilers, and so her
departure was postponed till to-morrow."

     "Thank you," returned Mr. Fogg, descending mathematically to the
saloon.

     Passepartout clasped the pilot's hand and shook it
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heartily in his delight, exclaiming, "Pilot, you are the best of good
fellows!"

     The pilot probably does not know to this day why his responses won him
this enthusiastic greeting. He remounted the bridge, and guided the steamer
through the flotilla of junks, tankas, and fishing boats which crowd the
harbour of Hong Kong.

     At one o'clock the Rangoon was at the quay, and the passengers were
going ashore.

     Chance had strangely favoured Phileas Fogg, for had not the Carnatic
been forced to lie over for repairing her boilers, she would have left on
the 6th of November, and the passengers for Japan would have been obliged
to await for a week the sailing of the next steamer. Mr. Fogg was, it is
true, twenty-four hours behind his time; but this could not seriously
imperil the remainder of his tour.

     The steamer which crossed the Pacific from Yokohama to San Francisco
made a direct connection with that from Hong Kong, and it could not sail
until the latter reached Yokohama; and if Mr. Fogg was twenty-four hours
late on reaching Yokohama, this time would no doubt be easily regained in
the voyage of twenty-two days across the Pacific. He found himself, then,
about twenty-four hours behind-hand, thirty-five days after leaving London.

     The Carnatic was announced to leave Hong Kong at five the next
morning. Mr. Fogg had sixteen hours in
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which to attend to his business there, which was to deposit Aouda safely
with her wealthy relative.

     On landing, he conducted her to a palanquin, in which they repaired to
the Club Hotel. A room was engaged for the young woman, and Mr. Fogg, after
seeing that she wanted for nothing, set out in search of her cousin
Jeejeeh. He instructed Passepartout to remain at the hotel until his
return, that Aouda might not be left entirely alone.

     Mr. Fogg repaired to the Exchange, where, he did not doubt, every one
would know so wealthy and considerable a personage as the Parsee merchant.
Meeting a broker, he made the inquiry, to learn that Jeejeeh had left China
two years before, and, retiring from business with an immense fortune, had
taken up his residence in Europe -- in Holland the broker thought, with the
merchants of which country he had principally traded. Phileas Fogg returned
to the hotel, begged a moment's conversation with Aouda, and without more
ado, apprised her that Jeejeeh was no longer at Hong Kong, but probably in
Holland.

     Aouda at first said nothing. She passed her hand across her forehead,
and reflected a few moments. Then, in her sweet, soft voice, she said:
"What ought I to do, Mr. Fogg?"

     "It is very simple," responded the gentleman. "Go on to Europe."

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     "But I cannot intrude -- "

     "You do not intrude, nor do you in the least embarrass my project.
Passepartout!"

     "Monsieur."

     "Go to the Carnatic, and engage three cabins."

     Passepartout, delighted that the young woman, who was very gracious to
him, was going to continue the journey with them, went off at a brisk gait
to obey his master's order.

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                                 Chapter 19

  IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT TAKES A TOO GREAT INTEREST IN HIS MASTER, AND WHAT
                                COMES OF IT

     Hong Kong is an island which came into the possession of the English
by the Treaty of Nankin, after the war of 1842; and the colonising genius
of the English has created upon it an important city and an excellent port.
The island is situated at the mouth of the Canton River, and is separated
by about sixty miles from the Portuguese town of Macao, on the opposite
coast. Hong Kong has beaten Macao in the struggle for the Chinese trade,
and now the greater part of the transportation of Chinese goods finds its
depot at the former place. Docks, hospitals, wharves, a Gothic cathedral, a
government house, macadamised streets, give to Hong Kong the appearance of
a town in Kent or Surrey transferred by some strange magic to the
antipodes.

     Passepartout wandered, with his hands in his pockets,
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                                  [Image]

towards the Victoria port, gazing as he went at the curious palanquins and
other modes of conveyance, and the groups of Chinese, Japanese, and
Europeans who passed to and fro in the streets. Hong Kong seemed to him not
unlike Bombay, Calcutta, and Singapore, since, like them, it betrayed
everywhere the evidence of English supremacy. At the Victoria port he found
a confused mass of ships of all nations: English, French, American, and
Dutch, men-of-war and trading vessels, Japanese and Chinese junks, sempas,
tankas, and flower-boats, which formed so many floating parterres.
Passepartout noticed in the crowd a number of the natives who seemed very
old and were dressed in yellow. On going into a barber's to get shaved he
learned that these ancient men were all at least eighty years old, at which
age they are permitted to wear yellow, which is the Imperial colour.
Passepartout, without exactly knowing why, thought this very funny.

     On reaching the quay where they were to embark on the Carnatic, he was
not astonished to find Fix walking up and down. The detective seemed very
much disturbed and disappointed.

     "This is bad," muttered Passepartout, "for the gentlemen of the Reform
Club!" He accosted Fix with a merry smile, as if he had not perceived that
gentleman's chagrin. The detective had, indeed, good reasons to inveigh
against the bad luck which pursued him. The warrant had not
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Page 144

come! It was certainly on the way, but as certainly it could not now reach
Hong Kong for several days; and, this being the last English territory on
Mr. Fogg's route, the robber would escape, unless he could manage to detain
him.

     "Well, Monsieur Fix," said Passepartout, "have you decided to go with
us so far as America?"

     "Yes," returned Fix, through his set teeth.

     "Good!" exclaimed Passepartout, laughing heartily. "I knew you could
not persuade yourself to separate from us. Come and engage your berth."

     They entered the steamer office and secured cabins for four persons.
The clerk, as he gave them the tickets, informed them that, the repairs on
the Carnatic having been completed, the steamer would leave that very
evening, and not next morning, as had been announced.

     "That will suit my master all the better," said Passepartout. "I will
go and let him know."

     Fix now decided to make a bold move; he resolved to tell Passepartout
all. It seemed to be the only possible means of keeping Phileas Fogg
several days longer at Hong Kong. He accordingly invited his companion into
a tavern which caught his eye on the quay. On entering, they found
themselves in a large room handsomely decorated, at the end of which was a
large camp-bed furnished with cushions. Several persons lay upon this bed
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in a deep sleep. At the small tables which were arranged about the room
some thirty customers were drinking English beer, porter, gin, and brandy;
smoking, the while, long red clay pipes stuffed with little balls of opium
mingled with essence of rose. >From time to time one of the smokers,
overcome with the narcotic, would slip under the table, whereupon the
waiters, taking him by the head and feet, carried and laid him upon the
bed. The bed already supported twenty of these stupefied sots.

     Fix and Passepartout saw that they were in a smoking-house haunted by
those wretched, cadaverous, idiotic creatures to whom the English merchants
sell every year the miserable drug called opium, to the amount of one
million four hundred thousand pounds -- thousands devoted to one of the
most despicable vices which afflict humanity! The Chinese government has in
vain attempted to deal with the evil by stringent laws. It passed gradually
from the rich, to whom it was at first exclusively reserved, to the lower
classes, and then its ravages could not be arrested. Opium is smoked
everywhere, at all times, by men and women, in the Celestial Empire; and,
once accustomed to it, the victims cannot dispense with it, except by
suffering horrible bodily contortions and agonies. A great smoker can smoke
as many as eight pipes a day; but he dies in five years. It was in one of
these dens that Fix and Passepartout,
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Page 146

in search of a friendly glass, found themselves. Passepartout had no money,
but willingly accepted Fix's invitation in the hope of returning the
obligation at some future time.

     They ordered two bottles of port, to which the Frenchman did ample
justice, whilst Fix observed him with close attention. They chatted about
the journey, and Passepartout was especially merry at the idea that Fix was
going to continue it with them. When the bottles were empty, however, he
rose to go and tell his master of the change in the time of the sailing of
the Carnatic.

     Fix caught him by the arm, and said, "Wait a moment."

     "What for, Mr. Fix?"

     "I want to have a serious talk with you."

     "A serious talk!" cried Passepartout, drinking up the little wine that
was left in the bottom of his glass. "Well, we'll talk about it to-morrow;
I haven't time now."

     "Stay! What I have to say concerns your master."

     Passepartout, at this, looked attentively at his companion. Fix's face
seemed to have a singular expression. He resumed his seat.

     "What is it that you have to say?"

     Fix placed his hand upon Passepartout's arm, and, lowering his voice,
said, "You have guessed who I am?"

     "Parbleu!" said Passepartout, smiling.

     "Then I'm going to tell you everything -- "

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     "Now that I know everything, my friend! Ah! that's very good. But go
on, go on. First, though, let me tell you that those gentlemen have put
themselves to a useless expense."

     "Useless!" said Fix. "You speak confidently. It's clear that you don't
know how large the sum is."

     "Of course I do," returned Passepartout. "Twenty thousand pounds."

     "Fifty-five thousand!" answered Fix, pressing his companion's hand.

     "What!" cried the Frenchman. "Has Monsieur Fogg dared -- fifty-five
thousand pounds! Well, there's all the more reason for not losing an
instant," he continued, getting up hastily.

     Fix pushed Passepartout back in his chair, and resumed: "Fifty-five
thousand pounds; and if I succeed, I get two thousand pounds. If you'll
help me, I'll let you have five hundred of them."

     "Help you?" cried Passepartout, whose eyes were standing wide open.

     "Yes; help me keep Mr. Fogg here for two or three days."

     "Why, what are you saying? Those gentlemen are not satisfied with
following my master and suspecting his honour, but they must try to put
obstacles in his way! I blush for them!"

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Page 148

     "What do you mean?"

     "I mean that it is a piece of shameful trickery. They might as well
waylay Mr. Fogg and put his money in their pockets!"

     "That's just what we count on doing."

     "It's a conspiracy, then," cried Passepartout, who became more and
more excited as the liquor mounted in his head, for he drank without
perceiving it. "A real conspiracy! And gentlemen, too. Bah!"

     Fix began to be puzzled.

     "Members of the Reform Club!" continued Passepartout. "You must know,
Monsieur Fix, that my master is an honest man, and that, when he makes a
wager, he tries to win it fairly!"

     "But who do you think I am?" asked Fix, looking at him intently.

     "Parbleu! An agent of the members of the Reform Club, sent out here to
interrupt my master's journey. But, though I found you out some time ago,
I've taken good care to say nothing about it to Mr. Fogg."

     "He knows nothing, then?"

     "Nothing," replied Passepartout, again emptying his glass.

     The detective passed his hand across his forehead, hesitating before
he spoke again. What should he do? Passepartout's mistake seemed sincere,
but it made his
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Page 149

design more difficult. It was evident that the servant was not the master's
accomplice, as Fix had been inclined to suspect.

     "Well," said the detective to himself, "as he is not an accomplice, he
will help me."

     He had no time to lose: Fogg must be detained at Hong Kong, so he
resolved to make a clean breast of it.

     "Listen to me," said Fix abruptly. "I am not, as you think, an agent
of the members of the Reform Club -- "

     "Bah!" retorted Passepartout, with an air of raillery.

     "I am a police detective, sent out here by the London office."

     "You, a detective?"

     "I will prove it. Here is my commission."

     Passepartout was speechless with astonishment when Fix displayed this
document, the genuineness of which could not be doubted.

     "Mr. Fogg's wager," resumed Fix, "is only a pretext, of which you and
the gentlemen of the Reform are dupes. He had a motive for securing your
innocent complicity."

     "But why?"

     "Listen. On the 28th of last September a robbery of fifty-five
thousand pounds was committed at the Bank of England by a person whose
description was fortunately
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Page 150

secured. Here is his description; it answers exactly to that of Mr. Phileas
Fogg."

     "What nonsense!" cried Passepartout, striking the table with his fist.
"My master is the most honourable of men!"

     "How can you tell? You know scarcely anything about him. You went into
his service the day he came away; and he came away on a foolish pretext,
without trunks, and carrying a large amount in banknotes. And yet you are
bold enough to assert that he is an honest man!"

     "Yes, yes," repeated the poor fellow, mechanically.

     "Would you like to be arrested as his accomplice?"

     Passepartout, overcome by what he had heard, held his head between his
hands, and did not dare to look at the detective. Phileas Fogg, the saviour
of Aouda, that brave and generous man, a robber! And yet how many
presumptions there were against him! Passepartout essayed to reject the
suspicions which forced themselves upon his mind; he did not wish to
believe that his master was guilty.

     "Well, what do you want of me?" said he, at last, with an effort.

     "See here," replied Fix; "I have tracked Mr. Fogg to this place, but
as yet I have failed to receive the warrant of arrest for which I sent to
London. You must help me to keep him here in Hong Kong -- "

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Page 151

     "I! But I -- "

     "I will share with you the two thousand pounds reward offered by the
Bank of England."

     "Never!" replied Passepartout, who tried to rise, but fell back,
exhausted in mind and body.

     "Mr. Fix," he stammered, "even should what you say be true -- if my
master is really the robber you are seeking for -- which I deny -- I have
been, am, in his service; I have seen his generosity and goodness; and I
will never betray him -- not for all the gold in the world. I come from a
village where they don't eat that kind of bread!"

     "You refuse?"

     "I refuse."

     "Consider that I've said nothing," said Fix; "and let us drink."

     "Yes; let us drink!"

     Passepartout felt himself yielding more and more to the effects of the
liquor. Fix, seeing that he must, at all hazards, be separated from his
master, wished to entirely overcome him. Some pipes full of opium lay upon
the table. Fix slipped one into Passepartout's hand. He took it, put it
between his lips, lit it, drew several puffs, and his head, becoming heavy
under the influence of the narcotic, fell upon the table.

     "At last!" said Fix, seeing Passepartout unconscious.
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Page 152

"Mr. Fogg will not be informed of the Carnatic's departure; and, if he is,
he will have to go without this cursed Frenchman!"

      And, after paying his bill, Fix left the tavern.

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Page 153

                                 Chapter 20

             IN WHICH FIX COMES FACE TO FACE WITH PHILEAS FOGG

     While these events were passing at the opium-house, Mr. Fogg,
unconscious of the danger he was in of losing the steamer, was quietly
escorting Aouda about the streets of the English quarter, making the
necessary purchases for the long voyage before them. It was all very well
for an Englishman like Mr. Fogg to make the tour of the world with a
carpet-bag; a lady could not be expected to travel comfortably under such
conditions. He acquitted his task with characteristic serenity, and
invariably replied to the remonstrances of his fair companion, who was
confused by his patience and generosity:

     "It is in the interest of my journey -- a part of my programme."

     The purchases made, they returned to the hotel, where they dined at a
sumptuously served table-d'h⌠te; after which
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Aouda, shaking hands with her protector after the English fashion, retired
to her room for rest. Mr. Fogg absorbed himself throughout the evening in
the perusal of The Times and Illustrated London News.

     Had he been capable of being astonished at anything, it would have
been not to see his servant return at bedtime. But, knowing that the
steamer was not to leave for Yokohama until the next morning, he did not
disturb himself about the matter. When Passepartout did not appear the next
morning to answer his master's bell, Mr. Fogg, not betraying the least
vexation, contented himself with taking his carpet-bag, calling Aouda, and
sending for a palanquin.

     It was then eight o'clock; at half-past nine, it being then high tide,
the Carnatic would leave the harbour. Mr. Fogg and Aouda got into the
palanquin, their luggage being brought after on a wheelbarrow, and half an
hour later stepped upon the quay whence they were to embark. Mr. Fogg then
learned that the Carnatic had sailed the evening before. He had expected to
find not only the steamer, but his domestic, and was forced to give up
both; but no sign of disappointment appeared on his face, and he merely
remarked to Aouda, "It is an accident, madam; nothing more."

     At this moment a man who had been observing him attentively
approached. It was Fix, who, bowing, addressed
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Mr. Fogg: "Were you not, like me, sir, a passenger by the Rangoon, which
arrived yesterday?"

      "I was, sir," replied Mr. Fogg coldly. "But I have not the honour --
"

     "Pardon me; I thought I should find your servant here."

     "Do you know where he is, sir?" asked Aouda anxiously.

     "What!" responded Fix, feigning surprise. "Is he not with you?"

     "No," said Aouda. "He has not made his appearance since yesterday.
Could he have gone on board the Carnatic without us?"

     "Without you, madam?" answered the detective. "Excuse me, did you
intend to sail in the Carnatic?"

     "Yes, sir."

     "So did I, madam, and I am excessively disappointed. The Carnatic, its
repairs being completed, left Hong Kong twelve hours before the stated
time, without any notice being given; and we must now wait a week for
another steamer."

     As he said "a week" Fix felt his heart leap for joy. Fogg detained at
Hong Kong for a week! There would be time for the warrant to arrive, and
fortune at last favoured the representative of the law. His horror may be
imagined when he heard Mr. Fogg say, in his placid voice,
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Page 156

"But there are other vessels besides the Carnatic, it seems to me, in the
harbour of Hong Kong."

     And, offering his arm to Aouda, he directed his steps toward the docks
in search of some craft about to start. Fix, stupefied, followed; it seemed
as if he were attached to Mr. Fogg by an invisible thread. Chance, however,
appeared really to have abandoned the man it had hitherto served so well.
For three hours Phileas Fogg wandered about the docks, with the
determination, if necessary, to charter a vessel to carry him to Yokohama;
but he could only find vessels which were loading or unloading, and which
could not therefore set sail. Fix began to hope again.

     But Mr. Fogg, far from being discouraged, was continuing his search,
resolved not to stop if he had to resort to Macao, when he was accosted by
a sailor on one of the wharves.

     "Is your honour looking for a boat?"

     "Have you a boat ready to sail?"

     "Yes, your honour; a pilot-boat -- No. 43 -- the best in the harbour."

     "Does she go fast?"

     "Between eight and nine knots the hour. Will you look at her?"

     "Yes."

     "Your honour will be satisfied with her. Is it for a sea excursion?"

     "No; for a voyage."

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Page 157

     "A voyage?"

     "Yes, will you agree to take me to Yokohama?"

     The sailor leaned on the railing, opened his eyes wide, and said, "Is
your honour joking?"

     "No. I have missed the Carnatic, and I must get to Yokohama by the
14th at the latest, to take the boat for San Francisco."

     "I am sorry," said the sailor; "but it is impossible."

     "I offer you a hundred pounds per day, and an additional reward of two
hundred pounds if I reach Yokohama in time."

     "Are you in earnest?"

     "Very much so."

     The pilot walked away a little distance, and gazed out to sea,
evidently struggling between the anxiety to gain a large sum and the fear
of venturing so far. Fix was in mortal suspense.

     Mr. Fogg turned to Aouda and asked her, "You would not be afraid,
would you, madam?"

     "Not with you, Mr. Fogg," was her answer.

     The pilot now returned, shuffling his hat in his hands.

     "Well, pilot?" said Mr. Fogg.

     "Well, your honour," replied he, "I could not risk myself, my men, or
my little boat of scarcely twenty tons on so long a voyage at this time of
year. Besides, we could not reach Yokohama in time, for it is sixteen
hundred and sixty miles from Hong Kong."

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 158

     "Only sixteen hundred," said Mr. Fogg.

     "It's the same thing."

     Fix breathed more freely.

     "But," added the pilot, "it might be arranged another way."

     Fix ceased to breathe at all.

     "How?" asked Mr. Fogg.

     "By going to Nagasaki, at the extreme south of Japan, or even to
Shanghai, which is only eight hundred miles from here. In going to Shanghai
we should not be forced to sail wide of the Chinese coast, which would be a
great advantage, as the currents run northward, and would aid us.

     "Pilot," said Mr. Fogg, "I must take the American steamer at Yokohama,
and not at Shanghai or Nagasaki."

     "Why not?" returned the pilot. "The San Francisco steamer does not
start from Yokohama. It puts in at Yokohama and Nagasaki, but it starts
from Shanghai."

     "You are sure of that?"

     "Perfectly."

     "And when does the boat leave Shanghai?"

     "On the 11th, at seven in the evening. We have, therefore, four days
before us, that is ninety-six hours; and in that time, if we had good luck
and a south-west wind, and
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 159

the sea was calm, we could make those eight hundred miles to Shanghai."

     "And you could go -- mdash; "

     "In an hour; as soon as provisions could be got aboard and the sails
put up."

     "It is a bargain. Are you the master of the boat?"

     "Yes; John Bunsby, master of the Tankadere."

     "Would you like some earnest-money?"

     "If it would not put your honour out -- mdash; "

     "Here are two hundred pounds on account sir," added Phileas Fogg,
turning to Fix, "if you would like to take advantage -- mdash; "

     "Thanks, sir; I was about to ask the favour."

     "Very well. In half an hour we shall go on board."

     "But poor Passepartout?" urged Aouda, who was much disturbed by the
servant's disappearance.

     "I shall do all I can to find him," replied Phileas Fogg.

     While Fix, in a feverish, nervous state, repaired to the pilot-boat,
the others directed their course to the police-station at Hong Kong.
Phileas Fogg there gave Passepartout's description, and left a sum of money
to be spent in the search for him. The same formalities having been gone
through at the French consulate, and the palanquin having stopped at the
hotel for the luggage, which had been sent back there, they returned to the
wharf.

     It was now three o'clock; and pilot-boat No. 43, with its
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 160

crew on board, and its provisions stored away, was ready for departure.

     The Tankadere was a neat little craft of twenty tons, as gracefully
built as if she were a racing yacht. Her shining copper sheathing, her
galvanised iron-work, her deck, white as ivory, betrayed the pride taken by
John Bunsby in making her presentable. Her two masts leaned a trifle
backward; she carried brigantine, foresail, storm-jib, and standing-jib,
and was well rigged for running before the wind; and she seemed capable of
brisk speed, which, indeed, she had already proved by gaining several
prizes in pilot-boat races. The crew of the Tankadere was composed of John
Bunsby, the master, and four hardy mariners, who were familiar with the
Chinese seas. John Bunsby, himself, a man of forty-five or thereabouts,
vigorous, sunburnt, with a sprightly expression of the eye, and energetic
and self-reliant countenance, would have inspired confidence in the most
timid.

     Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where they found Fix already
installed. Below deck was a square cabin, of which the walls bulged out in
the form of cots, above a circular divan; in the centre was a table
provided with a swinging lamp. The accommodation was confined, but neat.

     "I am sorry to have nothing better to offer you," said Mr. Fogg to
Fix, who bowed without responding.
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Page 161

     The detective had a feeling akin to humiliation in profiting by the
kindness of Mr. Fogg.

     "It's certain," thought he, "though rascal as he is, he is a polite
one!"

     The sails and the English flag were hoisted at ten minutes past three.
Mr. Fogg and Aouda, who were seated on deck, cast a last glance at the
quay, in the hope of espying Passepartout. Fix was not without his fears
lest chance should direct the steps of the unfortunate servant, whom he had
so badly treated, in this direction; in which case an explanation the
reverse of satisfactory to the detective must have ensued. But the
Frenchman did not appear, and, without doubt, was still lying under the
stupefying influence of the opium.

     John Bunsby, master, at length gave the order to start, and the
Tankadere, taking the wind under her brigantine, foresail, and
standing-jib, bounded briskly forward over the waves.

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Page 162

 IN WHICH THE MASTER OF THE 'TANKADERE' RUNS GREAT RISK OF LOSING A REWARD
                           OF TWO HUNDRED POUNDS

     This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture on a craft
of twenty tons, and at that season of the year. The Chinese seas are
usually boisterous, subject to terrible gales of wind, and especially
during the equinoxes; and it was now early November.

     It would clearly have been to the master's advantage to carry his
passengers to Yokohama, since he was paid a certain sum per day; but he
would have been rash to attempt such a voyage, and it was imprudent even to
attempt to reach Shanghai. But John Bunsby believed in the Tankadere, which
rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps he was not wrong.

     Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels of Hong
Kong, and the Tankadere, impelled by favourable winds, conducted herself
admirably.
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Page 163

     "I do not need, pilot," said Phileas Fogg, when they got into the open
sea, "to advise you to use all possible speed."

     "Trust me, your honour. We are carrying all the sail the wind will let
us. The poles would add nothing, and are only used when we are going into
port."

     "Its your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you."

     Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wide apart, standing like a
sailor, gazed without staggering at the swelling waters. The young woman,
who was seated aft, was profoundly affected as she looked out upon the
ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she had ventured in so
frail a vessel. Above her head rustled the white sails, which seemed like
great white wings. The boat, carried forward by the wind, seemed to be
flying in the air.

     Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, and her
insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon. Clouds
were rising from the east, and already overcast a part of the heavens.

      The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary in these
seas crowded with vessels bound landward; for collisions are not uncommon
occurrences, and, at the speed she was going, the least shock would shatter
the gallant little craft.

     Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation. He kept apart
from his fellow-travellers, knowing Mr. Fogg's taciturn tastes; besides, he
did not quite like to
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 164

talk to the man whose favours he had accepted. He was thinking, too, of the
future. It seemed certain that Fogg would not stop at Yokohama, but would
at once take the boat for San Francisco; and the vast extent of America
would ensure him impunity and safety. Fogg's plan appeared to him the
simplest in the world. Instead of sailing directly from England to the
United States, like a common villain, he had traversed three quarters of
the globe, so as to gain the American continent more surely; and there,
after throwing the police off his track, he would quietly enjoy himself
with the fortune stolen from the bank. But, once in the United States, what
should he, Fix, do? Should he abandon this man? No, a hundred times no!
Until he had secured his extradition, he would not lose sight of him for an
hour. It was his duty, and he would fulfil it to the end. At all events,
there was one thing to be thankful for; Passepartout was not with his
master; and it was above all important, after the confidences Fix had
imparted to him, that the servant should never have speech with his master.

     Phileas Fogg was also thinking of Passepartout, who had so strangely
disappeared. Looking at the matter from every point of view, it did not
seem to him impossible that, by some mistake, the man might have embarked
on the Carnatic at the last moment; and this was also Aouda's
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Page 165

opinion, who regretted very much the loss of the worthy fellow to whom she
owed so much. They might then find him at Yokohama; for, if the Carnatic
was carrying him thither, it would be easy to ascertain if he had been on
board.

     A brisk breeze arose about ten o'clock; but, though it might have been
prudent to take in a reef, the pilot, after carefully examining the
heavens, let the craft remain rigged as before. The Tankadere bore sail
admirably, as she drew a great deal of water, and everything was prepared
for high speed in case of a gale.

     Mr. Fogg and Aouda descended into the cabin at midnight, having been
already preceded by Fix, who had lain down on one of the cots. The pilot
and crew remained on deck all night.

     At sunrise the next day, which was 8th November, the boat had made
more than one hundred miles. The log indicated a mean speed of between
eight and nine miles. The Tankadere still carried all sail, and was
accomplishing her greatest capacity of speed. If the wind held as it was,
the chances would be in her favour. During the day she kept along the
coast, where the currents were favourable; the coast, irregular in profile,
and visible sometimes across the clearings, was at most five miles distant.
The sea was less boisterous, since the wind came off land -- mdash; a
fortunate circumstance for the boat, which
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Page 166

would suffer, owing to its small tonnage, by a heavy surge on the sea.

     The breeze subsided a little towards noon, and set in from the
south-west. The pilot put up his poles, but took them down again within two
hours, as the wind freshened up anew.

     Mr. Fogg and Aouda, happily unaffected by the roughness of the sea,
ate with a good appetite, Fix being invited to share their repast, which he
accepted with secret chagrin. To travel at this man's expense and live upon
his provisions was not palatable to him. Still, he was obliged to eat, and
so he ate.

     When the meal was over, he took Mr. Fogg apart, and said, "sir" --
mdash; this "sir" scorched his lips, and he had to control himself to avoid
collaring this "gentleman" -- mdash; "sir, you have been very kind to give
me a passage on this boat. But, though my means will not admit of my
expending them as freely as you, I must ask to pay my share -- mdash; "

     "Let us not speak of that, sir," replied Mr. Fogg.

     "But, if I insist -- mdash; "

     "No, sir," repeated Mr. Fogg, in a tone which did not admit of a
reply. "This enters into my general expenses."

     Fix, as he bowed, had a stifled feeling, and, going forward, where he
ensconced himself, did not open his mouth for the rest of the day.

     Meanwhile they were progressing famously, and John
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                                  [Image]

Bunsby was in high hope. He several times assured Mr. Fogg that they would
reach Shanghai in time; to which that gentleman responded that he counted
upon it. The crew set to work in good earnest, inspired by the reward to be
gained. There was not a sheet which was not tightened not a sail which was
not vigorously hoisted; not a lurch could be charged to the man at the
helm. They worked as desperately as if they were contesting in a Royal
yacht regatta.

     By evening, the log showed that two hundred and twenty miles had been
accomplished from Hong Kong, and Mr. Fogg might hope that he would be able
to reach Yokohama without recording any delay in his journal; in which
case, the many misadventures which had overtaken him since he left London
would not seriously affect his journey.

     The Tankadere entered the Straits of Fo-Kien, which separate the
island of Formosa from the Chinese coast, in the small hours of the night,
and crossed the Tropic of Cancer. The sea was very rough in the straits,
full of eddies formed by the counter-currents, and the chopping waves broke
her course, whilst it became very difficult to stand on deck.

     At daybreak the wind began to blow hard again, and the heavens seemed
to predict a gale. The barometer announced a speedy change, the mercury
rising and falling
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capriciously; the sea also, in the south-east, raised long surges which
indicated a tempest. The sun had set the evening before in a red mist, in
the midst of the phosphorescent scintillations of the ocean.

     John Bunsby long examined the threatening aspect of the heavens,
muttering indistinctly between his teeth. At last he said in a low voice to
Mr. Fogg, "Shall I speak out to your honour?"

     "Of course."

     "Well, we are going to have a squall."

     "Is the wind north or south?" asked Mr. Fogg quietly.

     "South. Look! a typhoon is coming up."

     "Glad it's a typhoon from the south, for it will carry us forward."

     "Oh, if you take it that way," said John Bunsby, "I've nothing more to
say." John Bunsby's suspicions were confirmed. At a less advanced season of
the year the typhoon, according to a famous meteorologist, would have
passed away like a luminous cascade of electric flame; but in the winter
equinox it was to be feared that it would burst upon them with great
violence.

     The pilot took his precautions in advance. He reefed all sail, the
pole-masts were dispensed with; all hands went forward to the bows. A
single triangular sail, of strong canvas, was hoisted as a storm-jib, so as
to hold the wind from behind. Then they waited.
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Page 169

     John Bunsby had requested his passengers to go below; but this
imprisonment in so narrow a space, with little air, and the boat bouncing
in the gale, was far from pleasant. Neither Mr. Fogg, Fix, nor Aouda
consented to leave the deck.

     The storm of rain and wind descended upon them towards eight o'clock.
With but its bit of sail, the Tankadere was lifted like a feather by a
wind, an idea of whose violence can scarcely be given. To compare her speed
to four times that of a locomotive going on full steam would be below the
truth.

     The boat scudded thus northward during the whole day, borne on by
monstrous waves, preserving always, fortunately, a speed equal to theirs.
Twenty times she seemed almost to be submerged by these mountains of water
which rose behind her; but the adroit management of the pilot saved her.
The passengers were often bathed in spray, but they submitted to it
philosophically. Fix cursed it, no doubt; but Aouda, with her eyes fastened
upon her protector, whose coolness amazed her, showed herself worthy of
him, and bravely weathered the storm. As for Phileas Fogg, it seemed just
as if the typhoon were a part of his programme.

     Up to this time the Tankadere had always held her course to the north;
but towards evening the wind, veering three quarters, bore down from the
north-west. The boat,
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now lying in the trough of the waves, shook and rolled terribly; the sea
struck her with fearful violence. At night the tempest increased in
violence. John Bunsby saw the approach of darkness and the rising of the
storm with dark misgivings. He thought awhile, and then asked his crew if
it was not time to slacken speed. After a consultation he approached Mr.
Fogg, and said, "I think, your honour, that we should do well to make for
one of the ports on the coast."

     "I think so too."

     "Ah!" said the pilot. "But which one?"

     "I know of but one," returned Mr. Fogg tranquilly.

     "And that is -- mdash; "

     "Shanghai."

     The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend; he could scarcely
realise so much determination and tenacity. Then he cried, "Well -- mdash;
yes! Your honour is right. To Shanghai!"

     So the Tankadere kept steadily on her northward track.

     The night was really terrible; it would be a miracle if the craft did
not founder. Twice it could have been all over with her if the crew had not
been constantly on the watch. Aouda was exhausted, but did not utter a
complaint. More than once Mr. Fogg rushed to protect her from the violence
of the waves.

     Day reappeared. The tempest still raged with undiminished
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fury; but the wind now returned to the south-east. It was a favourable
change, and the Tankadere again bounded forward on this mountainous sea,
though the waves crossed each other, and imparted shocks and counter-shocks
which would have crushed a craft less solidly built. From time to time the
coast was visible through the broken mist, but no vessel was in sight. The
Tankadere was alone upon the sea.

     There were some signs of a calm at noon, and these became more
distinct as the sun descended toward the horizon. The tempest had been as
brief as terrific. The passengers, thoroughly exhausted, could now eat a
little, and take some repose.

     The night was comparatively quiet. Some of the sails were again
hoisted, and the speed of the boat was very good. The next morning at dawn
they espied the coast, and John Bunsby was able to assert that they were
not one hundred miles from Shanghai. A hundred miles, and only one day to
traverse them! That very evening Mr. Fogg was due at Shanghai, if he did
not wish to miss the steamer to Yokohama. Had there been no storm, during
which several hours were lost, they would be at this moment within thirty
miles of their destination.

     The wind grew decidedly calmer, and happily the sea fell with it. All
sails were now hoisted, and at noon the Tankadere was within forty-five
miles of Shanghai.
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There remained yet six hours in which to accomplish that distance. All on
board feared that it could not be done, and every one -- mdash; Phileas
Fogg, no doubt, excepted -- mdash; felt his heart beat with impatience. The
boat must keep up an average of nine miles an hour, and the wind was
becoming calmer every moment! It was a capricious breeze, coming from the
coast, and after it passed the sea became smooth. Still, the Tankadere was
so light, and her fine sails caught the fickle zephyrs so well, that, with
the aid of the currents John Bunsby found himself at six o'clock not more
than ten miles from the mouth of Shanghai River. Shanghai itself is
situated at least twelve miles up the stream. At seven they were still
three miles from Shanghai. The pilot swore an angry oath; the reward of two
hundred pounds was evidently on the point of escaping him. He looked at Mr.
Fogg. Mr. Fogg was perfectly tranquil; and yet his whole fortune was at
this moment at stake.

     At this moment, also, a long black funnel, crowned with wreaths of
smoke, appeared on the edge of the waters. It was the American steamer,
leaving for Yokohama at the appointed time.

     "Confound her!" cried John Bunsby, pushing back the rudder with a
desperate jerk.

     "Signal her!" said Phileas Fogg quietly.

     A small brass cannon stood on the forward deck of the Tankadere, for
making signals in the fogs. It was
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loaded to the muzzle; but just as the pilot was about to apply a red-hot
coal to the touchhole, Mr. Fogg said, "Hoist your flag!"

     The flag was run up at half-mast, and, this being the signal of
distress, it was hoped that the American steamer, perceiving it, would
change her course a little, so as to succour the pilot-boat.

     "Fire!" said Mr. Fogg. And the booming of the little cannon resounded
in the air.

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Page 174

    "IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT FINDS OUT THAT, EVEN AT THE ANTIPODES, IT IS
              CONVENIENT TO HAVE SOME MONEY IN ONE'S POCKET"

     The Carnatic, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th
of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan. She carried a
large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers. Two state-rooms in the
rear were, however, unoccupied -- mdash; those which had been engaged by
Phileas Fogg.

     The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait,
and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to
totter to a seat on deck.

     It was Passepartout; and what had happened to him was as follows:
Shortly after Fix left the opium den, two waiters had lifted the
unconscious Passepartout, and had carried him to the bed reserved for the
smokers. Three hours later, pursued even in his dreams by a fixed idea, the
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Page 175

poor fellow awoke, and struggled against the stupefying influence of the
narcotic. The thought of a duty unfulfilled shook off his torpor, and he
hurried from the abode of drunkenness. Staggering and holding himself up by
keeping against the walls, falling down and creeping up again, and
irresistibly impelled by a kind of instinct, he kept crying out, "The
Carnatic! the Carnatic!"

     The steamer lay puffing alongside the quay, on the point of starting.
Passepartout had but few steps to go; and, rushing upon the plank, he
crossed it, and fell unconscious on the deck, just as the Carnatic was
moving off. Several sailors, who were evidently accustomed to this sort of
scene, carried the poor Frenchman down into the second cabin, and
Passepartout did not wake until they were one hundred and fifty miles away
from China. Thus he found himself the next morning on the deck of the
Carnatic, and eagerly inhaling the exhilarating sea-breeze. The pure air
sobered him. He began to collect his sense, which he found a difficult
task; but at last he recalled the events of the evening before, Fix's
revelation, and the opium-house.

     "It is evident," said he to himself, "that I have been abominably
drunk! What will Mr. Fogg say? At least I have not missed the steamer,
which is the most important thing."

     Then, as Fix occurred to him: "As for that rascal, I hope we are well
rid of him, and that he has not dared, as
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Page 176

he proposed, to follow us on board the Carnatic. A detective on the track
of Mr. Fogg, accused of robbing the Bank of England! Pshaw! Mr. Fogg is no
more a robber than I am a murderer."

     Should he divulge Fix's real errand to his master? Would it do to tell
the part the detective was playing. Would it not be better to wait until
Mr. Fogg reached London again, and then impart to him that an agent of the
metropolitan police had been following him round the world, and have a good
laugh over it? No doubt; at least, it was worth considering. The first
thing to do was to find Mr. Fogg, and apologise for his singular behaviour.

     Passepartout got up and proceeded, as well as he could with the
rolling of the steamer, to the after-deck. He saw no one who resembled
either his master or Aouda. "Good!" muttered he; "Aouda has not got up yet,
and Mr. Fogg has probably found some partners at whist."

     He descended to the saloon. Mr. Fogg was not there. Passepartout had
only, however, to ask the purser the number of his master's state-room. The
purser replied that he did not know any passenger by the name of Fogg.

     "I beg your pardon," said Passepartout persistently. "He is a tall
gentleman, quiet, and not very talkative, and has with him a young lady --
mdash; "

     "There is no young lady on board," interrupted the
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purser. "Here is a list of the passengers; you may see for yourself."

     Passepartout scanned the list, but his master's name was not upon it.
All at once an idea struck him.

     "Ah! am I on the Carnatic?"

     "Yes."

     "On the way to Yokohama?"

     "Certainly."

     Passepartout had for an instant feared that he was on the wrong boat;
but, though he was really on the Carnatic, his master was not there.

     He fell thunderstruck on a seat. He saw it all now. He remembered that
the time of sailing had been changed, that he should have informed his
master of that fact, and that he had not done so. It was his fault, then,
that Mr. Fogg and Aouda had missed the steamer. Yes, but it was still more
the fault of the traitor who, in order to separate him from his master, and
detain the latter at Hong Kong, had inveigled him into getting drunk! He
now saw the detective's trick; and at this moment Mr. Fogg was certainly
ruined, his bet was lost, and he himself perhaps arrested and imprisoned!
At this thought Passepartout tore his hair. Ah, if Fix ever came within his
reach, what a settling of accounts there would be!

     After his first depression, Passepartout became calmer, and began to
study his situation. It was certainly not an
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Page 178

enviable one. He found himself on the way to Japan, and what should he do
when he got there? His pocket was empty; he had not a solitary shilling not
so much as a penny. His passage had fortunately been paid for in advance;
and he had five or six days in which to decide upon his future course. He
fell to at meals with an appetite, and ate for Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and
himself. He helped himself as generously as if Japan were a desert, where
nothing to eat was to be looked for.

     At dawn on the 13th the Carnatic entered the port of Yokohama. This is
an important port of call in the Pacific, where all the mail-steamers, and
those carrying travellers between North America, China, Japan, and the
Oriental islands put in. It is situated in the bay of Yeddo, and at but a
short distance from that second capital of the Japanese Empire, and the
residence of the Tycoon, the civil Emperor, before the Mikado, the
spiritual Emperor, absorbed his office in his own. The Carnatic anchored at
the quay near the custom-house, in the midst of a crowd of ships bearing
the flags of all nations.

     Passepartout went timidly ashore on this so curious territory of the
Sons of the Sun. He had nothing better to do than, taking chance for his
guide, to wander aimlessly through the streets of Yokohama. He found
himself at first in a thoroughly European quarter, the houses having low
fronts, and being adorned with verandas,
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beneath which he caught glimpses of neat peristyles. This quarter occupied,
with its streets, squares, docks, and warehouses, all the space between the
"promontory of the Treaty" and the river. Here, as at Hong Kong and
Calcutta, were mixed crowds of all races Americans and English, Chinamen
and Dutchmen, mostly merchants ready to buy or sell anything. The Frenchman
felt himself as much alone among them as if he had dropped down in the
midst of Hottentots.

     He had, at least, one resource to call on the French and English
consuls at Yokohama for assistance. But he shrank from telling the story of
his adventures, intimately connected as it was with that of his master;
and, before doing so, he determined to exhaust all other means of aid. As
chance did not favour him in the European quarter, he penetrated that
inhabited by the native Japanese, determined, if necessary, to push on to
Yeddo.

     The Japanese quarter of Yokohama is called Benten, after the goddess
of the sea, who is worshipped on the islands round about. There
Passepartout beheld beautiful fir and cedar groves, sacred gates of a
singular architecture, bridges half hid in the midst of bamboos and reeds,
temples shaded by immense cedar-trees, holy retreats where were sheltered
Buddhist priests and sectaries of Confucius, and interminable streets,
where a perfect harvest of rose-tinted and red-cheeked children, who looked
as if they had
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been cut out of Japanese screens, and who were playing in the midst of
short-legged poodles and yellowish cats, might have been gathered.

     The streets were crowded with people. Priests were passing in
processions, beating their dreary tambourines; police and custom-house
officers with pointed hats encrusted with lac and carrying two sabres hung
to their waists; soldiers, clad in blue cotton with white stripes, and
bearing guns; the Mikado's guards, enveloped in silken doubles, hauberks
and coats of mail; and numbers of military folk of all ranks -- mdash; for
the military profession is as much respected in Japan as it is despised in
China -- mdash; went hither and thither in groups and pairs. Passepartout
saw, too, begging friars, long-robed pilgrims, and simple civilians, with
their warped and jet-black hair, big heads, long busts, slender legs, short
stature, and complexions varying from copper-colour to a dead white, but
never yellow, like the Chinese, from whom the Japanese widely differ. He
did not fail to observe the curious equipages -- mdash; carriages and
palanquins, barrows supplied with sails, and litters made of bamboo; nor
the women -- mdash; whom he thought not especially handsome -- mdash; who
took little steps with their little feet, whereon they wore canvas shoes,
straw sandals, and clogs of worked wood, and who displayed tight-looking
eyes, flat chests, teeth fashionably blackened, and gowns crossed with
silken scarfs, tied in an enormous knot behind -- mdash; an ornament
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which the modern Parisian ladies seem to have borrowed from the dames of
Japan.

     Passepartout wandered for several hours in the midst of this motley
crowd, looking in at the windows of the rich and curious shops, the
jewellery establishments glittering with quaint Japanese ornaments, the
restaurants decked with streamers and banners, the tea-houses, where the
odorous beverage was being drunk with saki, a liquor concocted from the
fermentation of rice, and the comfortable smoking-houses, where they were
puffing, not opium, which is almost unknown in Japan, but a very fine,
stringy tobacco. He went on till he found himself in the fields, in the
midst of vast rice plantations. There he saw dazzling camellias expanding
themselves, with flowers which were giving forth their last colours and
perfumes, not on bushes, but on trees, and within bamboo enclosures,
cherry, plum, and apple trees, which the Japanese cultivate rather for
their blossoms than their fruit, and which queerly-fashioned, grinning
scarecrows protected from the sparrows, pigeons, ravens, and other
voracious birds. On the branches of the cedars were perched large eagles;
amid the foliage of the weeping willows were herons, solemnly standing on
one leg; and on every hand were crows, ducks, hawks, wild birds, and a
multitude of cranes, which the Japanese consider sacred, and which to their
minds symbolise long life and prosperity.
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     As he was strolling along, Passepartout espied some violets among the
shrubs.

     "Good!" said he; "I'll have some supper."

     But, on smelling them, he found that they were odourless.

     "No chance there," thought he.

     The worthy fellow had certainly taken good care to eat as hearty a
breakfast as possible before leaving the Carnatic; but, as he had been
walking about all day, the demands of hunger were becoming importunate. He
observed that the butchers stalls contained neither mutton, goat, nor pork;
and, knowing also that it is a sacrilege to kill cattle, which are
preserved solely for farming, he made up his mind that meat was far from
plentiful in Yokohama -- mdash; nor was he mistaken; and, in default of
butcher's meat, he could have wished for a quarter of wild boar or deer, a
partridge, or some quails, some game or fish, which, with rice, the
Japanese eat almost exclusively. But he found it necessary to keep up a
stout heart, and to postpone the meal he craved till the following morning.
Night came, and Passepartout re-entered the native quarter, where he
wandered through the streets, lit by vari-coloured lanterns, looking on at
the dancers, who were executing skilful steps and boundings, and the
astrologers who stood in the open air with their telescopes. Then he came
to the harbour, which was lit up by the resin torches of the fishermen, who
were fishing from their boats.
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     The streets at last became quiet, and the patrol, the officers of
which, in their splendid costumes, and surrounded by their suites,
Passepartout thought seemed like ambassadors, succeeded the bustling crowd.
Each time a company passed, Passepartout chuckled, and said to himself:
"Good! another Japanese embassy departing for Europe!"

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Page 184

           IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT'S NOSE BECOMES OUTRAGEOUSLY LONG

     The next morning poor, jaded, famished Passepartout said to himself
that he must get something to eat at all hazards, and the sooner he did so
the better. He might, indeed, sell his watch; but he would have starved
first. Now or never he must use the strong, if not melodious voice which
nature had bestowed upon him. He knew several French and English songs, and
resolved to try them upon the Japanese, who must be lovers of music, since
they were for ever pounding on their cymbals, tam-tams, and tambourines,
and could not but appreciate European talent.

     It was, perhaps, rather early in the morning to get up a concert, and
the audience prematurely aroused from their slumbers, might not possibly
pay their entertainer with coin bearing the Mikado's features. Passepartout
therefore decided to wait several hours; and, as he was sauntering
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Page 185

along, it occurred to him that he would seem rather too well dressed for a
wandering artist. The idea struck him to change his garments for clothes
more in harmony with his project; by which he might also get a little money
to satisfy the immediate cravings of hunger. The resolution taken, it
remained to carry it out.

     It was only after a long search that Passepartout discovered a native
dealer in old clothes, to whom he applied for an exchange. The man liked
the European costume, and ere long Passepartout issued from his shop
accoutred in an old Japanese coat, and a sort of one-sided turban, faded
with long use. A few small pieces of silver, moreover, jingled in his
pocket.

     "Good!" thought he. "I will imagine I am at the Carnival!"

     His first care, after being thus "Japanesed," was to enter a tea-house
of modest appearance, and, upon half a bird and a little rice, to breakfast
like a man for whom dinner was as yet a problem to be solved.

     "Now," thought he, when he had eaten heartily, "I mustn't lose my
head. I can't sell this costume again for one still more Japanese. I must
consider how to leave this country of the Sun, of which I shall not retain
the most delightful of memories, as quickly as possible."

     It occurred to him to visit the steamers which were about to leave for
America. He would offer himself as a
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Page 186

cook or servant, in payment of his passage and meals. Once at San
Francisco, he would find some means of going on. The difficulty was, how to
traverse the four thousand seven hundred miles of the Pacific which lay
between Japan and the New World.

     Passepartout was not the man to let an idea go begging, and directed
his steps towards the docks. But, as he approached them, his project, which
at first had seemed so simple, began to grow more and more formidable to
his mind. What need would they have of a cook or servant on an American
steamer, and what confidence would they put in him, dressed as he was? What
references could he give?

     As he was reflecting in this wise, his eyes fell upon an immense
placard which a sort of clown was carrying through the streets. This
placard, which was in English, read as follows: ACROBATIC JAPANESE TROUPE,
HONOURABLE WILLIAM BATULCAR, PROPRIETOR, LAST REPRESENTATIONS, PRIOR TO
THEIR DEPARTURE TO THE UNITED STATES, OF THE LONG NOSES! LONG NOSES! UNDER
THE DIRECT PATRONAGE OF THE GOD TINGOU! GREAT ATTRACTION!
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     "The United States!" said Passepartout; "that's just what I want!"

     He followed the clown, and soon found himself once more in the
Japanese quarter. A quarter of an hour later he stopped before a large
cabin, adorned with several clusters of streamers, the exterior walls of
which were designed to represent, in violent colours and without
perspective, a company of jugglers.

     This was the Honourable William Batulcar's establishment. That
gentleman was a sort of Barnum, the director of a troupe of mountebanks,
jugglers, clowns, acrobats, equilibrists, and gymnasts, who, according to
the placard, was giving his last performances before leaving the Empire of
the Sun for the States of the Union.

     Passepartout entered and asked for Mr. Batulcar, who straightway
appeared in person.

     "What do you want?" said he to Passepartout, whom he at first took for
a native.

     "Would you like a servant, sir?" asked Passepartout.

     "A servant!" cried Mr. Batulcar, caressing the thick grey beard which
hung from his chin. "I already have two who are obedient and faithful, have
never left me, and serve me for their nourishment and here they are," added
he, holding out his two robust arms, furrowed with veins as large as the
strings of a bass-viol.

     "So I can be of no use to you?"
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     "None."

     "The devil! I should so like to cross the Pacific with you!"

     "Ah!" said the Honourable Mr. Batulcar. "You are no more a Japanese
than I am a monkey! Who are you dressed up in that way?"

     "A man dresses as he can."

     "That's true. You are a Frenchman, aren't you?"

     "Yes; a Parisian of Paris."

     "Then you ought to know how to make grimaces?"

     "Why," replied Passepartout, a little vexed that his nationality
should cause this question, "we Frenchmen know how to make grimaces, it is
true but not any better than the Americans do."

     "True. Well, if I can't take you as a servant, I can as a clown. You
see, my friend, in France they exhibit foreign clowns, and in foreign parts
French clowns."

     "Ah!"

     "You are pretty strong, eh?"

     "Especially after a good meal."

     "And you can sing?"

     "Yes," returned Passepartout, who had formerly been wont to sing in
the streets.

     "But can you sing standing on your head, with a top spinning on your
left foot, and a sabre balanced on your right?"

     "Humph! I think so," replied Passepartout, recalling the exercises of
his younger days.
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Page 189

     "Well, that's enough," said the Honourable William Batulcar.

     The engagement was concluded there and then.

     Passepartout had at last found something to do. He was engaged to act
in the celebrated Japanese troupe. It was not a very dignified position,
but within a week he would be on his way to San Francisco.

     The performance, so noisily announced by the Honourable Mr. Batulcar,
was to commence at three o'clock, and soon the deafening instruments of a
Japanese orchestra resounded at the door. Passepartout, though he had not
been able to study or rehearse a part, was designated to lend the aid of
his sturdy shoulders in the great exhibition of the "human pyramid,"
executed by the Long Noses of the god Tingou. This "great attraction" was
to close the performance.

     Before three o'clock the large shed was invaded by the spectators,
comprising Europeans and natives, Chinese and Japanese, men, women and
children, who precipitated themselves upon the narrow benches and into the
boxes opposite the stage. The musicians took up a position inside, and were
vigorously performing on their gongs, tam-tams, flutes, bones, tambourines,
and immense drums.

     The performance was much like all acrobatic displays; but it must be
confessed that the Japanese are the first equilibrists in the world.
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Page 190

     One, with a fan and some bits of paper, performed the graceful trick
of the butterflies and the flowers; another traced in the air, with the
odorous smoke of his pipe, a series of blue words, which composed a
compliment to the audience; while a third juggled with some lighted
candles, which he extinguished successively as they passed his lips, and
relit again without interrupting for an instant his juggling. Another
reproduced the most singular combinations with a spinning-top; in his hands
the revolving tops seemed to be animated with a life of their own in their
interminable whirling; they ran over pipe-stems, the edges of sabres, wires
and even hairs stretched across the stage; they turned around on the edges
of large glasses, crossed bamboo ladders, dispersed into all the corners,
and produced strange musical effects by the combination of their various
pitches of tone. The jugglers tossed them in the air, threw them like
shuttlecocks with wooden battledores, and yet they kept on spinning; they
put them into their pockets, and took them out still whirling as before.

     It is useless to describe the astonishing performances of the acrobats
and gymnasts. The turning on ladders, poles, balls, barrels, &, was
executed with wonderful precision.

     But the principal attraction was the exhibition of the Long Noses, a
show to which Europe is as yet a stranger.

     The Long Noses form a peculiar company, under the direct patronage of
the god Tingou. Attired after the
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Page 191

fashion of the Middle Ages, they bore upon their shoulders a splendid pair
of wings; but what especially distinguished them was the long noses which
were fastened to their faces, and the uses which they made of them. These
noses were made of bamboo, and were five, six, and even ten feet long, some
straight, others curved, some ribboned, and some having imitation warts
upon them. It was upon these appendages, fixed tightly on their real noses,
that they performed their gymnastic exercises. A dozen of these sectaries
of Tingou lay flat upon their backs, while others, dressed to represent
lightning-rods, came and frolicked on their noses, jumping from one to
another, and performing the most skilful leapings and somersaults.

     As a last scene, a "human pyramid" had been announced, in which fifty
Long Noses were to represent the Car of Juggernaut. But, instead of forming
a pyramid by mounting each other's shoulders, the artists were to group
themselves on top of the noses. It happened that the performer who had
hitherto formed the base of the Car had quitted the troupe, and as, to fill
this part, only strength and adroitness were necessary, Passepartout had
been chosen to take his place.

     The poor fellow really felt sad when -- mdash; melancholy reminiscence
of his youth! -- mdash; he donned his costume, adorned with vari-coloured
wings, and fastened to his natural feature a false nose six feet long. But
he cheered up when
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                                  [Image]

he thought that this nose was winning him something to eat.

     He went upon the stage, and took his place beside the rest who were to
compose the base of the Car of Juggernaut. They all stretched themselves on
the floor, their noses pointing to the ceiling. A second group of artists
disposed themselves on these long appendages, then a third above these,
then a fourth, until a human monument reaching to the very cornices of the
theatre soon arose on top of the noses. This elicited loud applause, in the
midst of which the orchestra was just striking up a deafening air, when the
pyramid tottered, the balance was lost, one of the lower noses vanished
from the pyramid, and the human monument was shattered like a castle built
of cards!

     It was Passepartout's fault. Abandoning his position, clearing the
footlights without the aid of his wings, and, clambering up to the
right-hand gallery, he fell at the feet of one of the spectators, crying,
"Ah, my master! my master!"

     "You here?"

     "Myself."

     "Very well; then let us go to the steamer, young man!"

     Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout passed through the lobby of the
theatre to the outside, where they encountered the Honourable Mr. Batulcar,
furious with rage. He
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Page 193

demanded damages for the "breakage" of the pyramid; and Phileas Fogg
appeased him by giving him a handful of banknotes.

     At half-past six, the very hour of departure, Mr. Fogg and Aouda,
followed by Passepartout, who in his hurry had retained his wings, and nose
six feet long, stepped upon the American steamer.

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Page 194

          DURING WHICH MR. FOGG AND PARTY CROSS THE PACIFIC OCEAN

     What happened when the pilot-boat came in sight of Shanghai will be
easily guessed. The signals made by the Tankadere had been seen by the
captain of the Yokohama steamer, who, espying the flag at half-mast, had
directed his course towards the little craft. Phileas Fogg, after paying
the stipulated price of his passage to John Busby, and rewarding that
worthy with the additional sum of five hundred and fifty pounds, ascended
the steamer with Aouda and Fix; and they started at once for Nagasaki and
Yokohama.

     They reached their destination on the morning of the 14th of November.
Phileas Fogg lost no time in going on board the Carnatic, where he learned,
to Aouda's great delight -- mdash; and perhaps to his own, though he
betrayed no emotion -- mdash; that Passepartout, a Frenchman, had really
arrived on her the day before.
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Page 195

     The San Francisco steamer was announced to leave that very evening,
and it became necessary to find Passepartout, if possible, without delay.
Mr. Fogg applied in vain to the French and English consuls, and, after
wandering through the streets a long time, began to despair of finding his
missing servant. Chance, or perhaps a kind of presentiment, at last led him
into the Honourable Mr. Batulcar's theatre. He certainly would not have
recognised Passepartout in the eccentric mountebank's costume; but the
latter, lying on his back, perceived his master in the gallery. He could
not help starting, which so changed the position of his nose as to bring
the "pyramid" pell-mell upon the stage.

     All this Passepartout learned from Aouda, who recounted to him what
had taken place on the voyage from Hong Kong to Shanghai on the Tankadere,
in company with one Mr. Fix.

     Passepartout did not change countenance on hearing this name. He
thought that the time had not yet arrived to divulge to his master what had
taken place between the detective and himself; and, in the account he gave
of his absence, he simply excused himself for having been overtaken by
drunkenness, in smoking opium at a tavern in Hong Kong.

     Mr. Fogg heard this narrative coldly, without a word; and then
furnished his man with funds necessary to obtain
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Page 196

clothing more in harmony with his position. Within an hour the Frenchman
had cut off his nose and parted with his wings, and retained nothing about
him which recalled the sectary of the god Tingou.

     The steamer which was about to depart from Yokohama to San Francisco
belonged to the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, and was named the General
Grant. She was a large paddle-wheel steamer of two thousand five hundred
tons; well equipped and very fast. The massive walking-beam rose and fell
above the deck; at one end a piston-rod worked up and down; and at the
other was a connecting-rod which, in changing the rectilinear motion to a
circular one, was directly connected with the shaft of the paddles. The
General Grant was rigged with three masts, giving a large capacity for
sails, and thus materially aiding the steam power. By making twelve miles
an hour, she would cross the ocean in twenty-one days. Phileas Fogg was
therefore justified in hoping that he would reach San Francisco by the 2nd
of December, New York by the 11th, and London on the 20th -- mdash; thus
gaining several hours on the fatal date of the 21st of December.

     There was a full complement of passengers on board, among them
English, many Americans, a large number of coolies on their way to
California, and several East Indian officers, who were spending their
vacation in making the tour of the world. Nothing of moment happened on the
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voyage; the steamer, sustained on its large paddles, rolled but little, and
the Pacific almost justified its name. Mr. Fogg was as calm and taciturn as
ever. His young companion felt herself more and more attached to him by
other ties than gratitude; his silent but generous nature impressed her
more than she thought; and it was almost unconsciously that she yielded to
emotions which did not seem to have the least effect upon her protector.
Aouda took the keenest interest in his plans, and became impatient at any
incident which seemed likely to retard his journey.

     She often chatted with Passepartout, who did not fail to perceive the
state of the lady's heart; and, being the most faithful of domestics, he
never exhausted his eulogies of Phileas Fogg's honesty, generosity, and
devotion. He took pains to calm Aouda's doubts of a successful termination
of the journey, telling her that the most difficult part of it had passed,
that now they were beyond the fantastic countries of Japan and China, and
were fairly on their way to civilised places again. A railway train from
San Francisco to New York, and a transatlantic steamer from New York to
Liverpool, would doubtless bring them to the end of this impossible journey
round the world within the period agreed upon.

     On the ninth day after leaving Yokohama, Phileas Fogg had traversed
exactly one half of the terrestrial globe. The
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General Grant passed, on the 23rd of November, the one hundred and
eightieth meridian, and was at the very antipodes of London. Mr. Fogg had,
it is true, exhausted fifty-two of the eighty days in which he was to
complete the tour, and there were only twenty-eight left. But, though he
was only half-way by the difference of meridians, he had really gone over
two-thirds of the whole journey; for he had been obliged to make long
circuits from London to Aden, from Aden to Bombay, from Calcutta to
Singapore, and from Singapore to Yokohama. Could he have followed without
deviation the fiftieth parallel, which is that of London, the whole
distance would only have been about twelve thousand miles; whereas he would
be forced, by the irregular methods of locomotion, to traverse twenty-six
thousand, of which he had, on the 23rd of November, accomplished seventeen
thousand five hundred. And now the course was a straight one, and Fix was
no longer there to put obstacles in their way!

     It happened also, on the 23rd of November, that Passepartout made a
joyful discovery. It will be remembered that the obstinate fellow had
insisted on keeping his famous family watch at London time, and on
regarding that of the countries he had passed through as quite false and
unreliable. Now, on this day, though he had not changed the hands, he found
that his watch exactly agreed with the ship's chronometers. His triumph was
hilarious. He would have liked to know what Fix would say if he were
aboard!
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     "The rogue told me a lot of stories," repeated Passepartout, "about
the meridians, the sun, and the moon! Moon, indeed! moonshine more likely!
If one listened to that sort of people, a pretty sort of time one would
keep! I was sure that the sun would some day regulate itself by my watch!"

     Passepartout was ignorant that, if the face of his watch had been
divided into twenty-four hours, like the Italian clocks, he would have no
reason for exultation; for the hands of his watch would then, instead of as
now indicating nine o'clock in the morning, indicate nine o'clock in the
evening, that is, the twenty-first hour after midnight precisely the
difference between London time and that of the one hundred and eightieth
meridian. But if Fix had been able to explain this purely physical effect,
Passepartout would not have admitted, even if he had comprehended it.
Moreover, if the detective had been on board at that moment, Passepartout
would have joined issue with him on a quite different subject, and in an
entirely different manner.

     Where was Fix at that moment?

     He was actually on board the General Grant.

     On reaching Yokohama, the detective, leaving Mr. Fogg, whom he
expected to meet again during the day, had repaired at once to the English
consulate, where he at last found the warrant of arrest. It had followed
him from Bombay, and had come by the Carnatic, on which
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Page 200

steamer he himself was supposed to be. Fix's disappointment may be imagined
when he reflected that the warrant was now useless. Mr. Fogg had left
English ground, and it was now necessary to procure his extradition!

     "Well," thought Fix, after a moment of anger, "my warrant is not good
here, but it will be in England. The rogue evidently intends to return to
his own country, thinking he has thrown the police off his track. Good! I
will follow him across the Atlantic. As for the money, heaven grant there
may be some left! But the fellow has already spent in travelling, rewards,
trials, bail, elephants, and all sorts of charges, more than five thousand
pounds. Yet, after all, the Bank is rich!"

     His course decided on, he went on board the General Grant, and was
there when Mr. Fogg and Aouda arrived. To his utter amazement, he
recognised Passepartout, despite his theatrical disguise. He quickly
concealed himself in his cabin, to avoid an awkward explanation, and hoped
-- mdash; thanks to the number of passengers -- mdash; to remain
unperceived by Mr. Fogg's servant.

     On that very day, however, he met Passepartout face to face on the
forward deck. The latter, without a word, made a rush for him, grasped him
by the throat, and, much to the amusement of a group of Americans, who
immediately began to bet on him, administered to the detective a perfect
volley of blows, which proved the
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great superiority of French over English pugilistic skill.

     When Passepartout had finished, he found himself relieved and
comforted. Fix got up in a somewhat rumpled condition, and, looking at his
adversary, coldly said, "Have you done?"

     "For this time -- mdash; yes."

     "Then let me have a word with you."

     "But I -- mdash; "

     "In your master's interests."

     Passepartout seemed to be vanquished by Fix's coolness, for he quietly
followed him, and they sat down aside from the rest of the passengers.

     "You have given me a thrashing," said Fix. "Good, I expected it. Now,
listen to me. Up to this time I have been Mr. Fogg's adversary. I am now in
his game."

     "Aha!" cried Passepartout; "you are convinced he is an honest man?"

     "No," replied Fix coldly, "I think him a rascal. Sh! don't budge, and
let me speak. As long as Mr. Fogg was on English ground, it was for my
interest to detain him there until my warrant of arrest arrived. I did
everything I could to keep him back. I sent the Bombay priests after him, I
got you intoxicated at Hong Kong, I separated you from him, and I made him
miss the Yokohama steamer."

     Passepartout listened, with closed fists.
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     "Now," resumed Fix, "Mr. Fogg seems to be going back to England. Well,
I will follow him there. But hereafter I will do as much to keep obstacles
out of his way as I have done up to this time to put them in his path. I've
changed my game, you see, and simply because it was for my interest to
change it. Your interest is the same as mine; for it is only in England
that you will ascertain whether you are in the service of a criminal or an
honest man."

     Passepartout listened very attentively to Fix, and was convinced that
he spoke with entire good faith.

     "Are we friends?" asked the detective.

     "Friends? -- mdash; no," replied Passepartout; "but allies, perhaps.
At the least sign of treason, however, I'll twist your neck for you."

     "Agreed," said the detective quietly.

     Eleven days later, on the 3rd of December, the General Grant entered
the bay of the Golden Gate, and reached San Francisco.

     Mr. Fogg had neither gained nor lost a single day.

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Page 203

             IN WHICH A SLIGHT GLIMPSE IS HAD OF SAN FRANCISCO

     It was seven in the morning when Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout set
foot upon the American continent, if this name can be given to the floating
quay upon which they disembarked. These quays, rising and falling with the
tide, thus facilitate the loading and unloading of vessels. Alongside them
were clippers of all sizes, steamers of all nationalities, and the
steamboats, with several decks rising one above the other, which ply on the
Sacramento and its tributaries. There were also heaped up the products of a
commerce which extends to Mexico, Chili, Peru, Brazil, Europe, Asia, and
all the Pacific islands.

     Passepartout, in his joy on reaching at last the American continent,
thought he would manifest it by executing a perilous vault in fine style;
but, tumbling upon some worm-eaten planks, he fell through them. Put out of
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countenance by the manner in which he thus "set foot" upon the New World,
he uttered a loud cry, which so frightened the innumerable cormorants and
pelicans that are always perched upon these movable quays, that they flew
noisily away.

     Mr. Fogg, on reaching shore, proceeded to find out at what hour the
first train left for New York, and learned that this was at six o'clock
p.m.; he had, therefore, an entire day to spend in the Californian capital.
Taking a carriage at a charge of three dollars, he and Aouda entered it,
while Passepartout mounted the box beside the driver, and they set out for
the International Hotel.

     From his exalted position Passepartout observed with much curiosity
the wide streets, the low, evenly ranged houses, the Anglo-Saxon Gothic
churches, the great docks, the palatial wooden and brick warehouses, the
numerous conveyances, omnibuses, horse-cars, and upon the side-walks, not
only Americans and Europeans, but Chinese and Indians. Passepartout was
surprised at all he saw. San Francisco was no longer the legendary city of
1849 -- mdash; a city of banditti, assassins, and incendiaries, who had
flocked hither in crowds in pursuit of plunder; a paradise of outlaws,
where they gambled with gold-dust, a revolver in one hand and a bowie-knife
in the other: it was now a great commercial emporium.

     The lofty tower of its City Hall overlooked the whole
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panorama of the streets and avenues, which cut each other at right-angles,
and in the midst of which appeared pleasant, verdant squares, while beyond
appeared the Chinese quarter, seemingly imported from the Celestial Empire
in a toy-box. Sombreros and red shirts and plumed Indians were rarely to be
seen; but there were silk hats and black coats everywhere worn by a
multitude of nervously active, gentlemanly-looking men. Some of the streets
-- mdash; especially Montgomery Street, which is to San Francisco what
Regent Street is to London, the Boulevard des Italiens to Paris, and
Broadway to New York -- mdash; were lined with splendid and spacious
stores, which exposed in their windows the products of the entire world.

     When Passepartout reached the International Hotel, it did not seem to
him as if he had left England at all.

     The ground floor of the hotel was occupied by a large bar, a sort of
restaurant freely open to all passers-by, who might partake of dried beef,
oyster soup, biscuits, and cheese, without taking out their purses. Payment
was made only for the ale, porter, or sherry which was drunk. This seemed
"very American" to Passepartout. The hotel refreshment-rooms were
comfortable, and Mr. Fogg and Aouda, installing themselves at a table, were
abundantly served on diminutive plates by negroes of darkest hue.

     After breakfast, Mr. Fogg, accompanied by Aouda,
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started for the English consulate to have his passport visaed. As he was
going out, he met Passepartout, who asked him if it would not be well,
before taking the train, to purchase some dozens of Enfield rifles and
Colt's revolvers. He had been listening to stories of attacks upon the
trains by the Sioux and Pawnees. Mr. Fogg thought it a useless precaution,
but told him to do as he thought best, and went on to the consulate.

     He had not proceeded two hundred steps, however, when, "by the
greatest chance in the world," he met Fix. The detective seemed wholly
taken by surprise. What! Had Mr. Fogg and himself crossed the Pacific
together, and not met on the steamer! At least Fix felt honoured to behold
once more the gentleman to whom he owed so much, and, as his business
recalled him to Europe, he should be delighted to continue the journey in
such pleasant company.

     Mr. Fogg replied that the honour would be his; and the detective --
mdash; who was determined not to lose sight of him -- mdash; begged
permission to accompany them in their walk about San Francisco -- mdash; a
request which Mr. Fogg readily granted.

     They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where a great crowd
was collected; the side-walks, street, horsecar rails, the shop-doors, the
windows of the houses, and even the roofs, were full of people. Men were
going about carrying large posters, and flags and streamers were
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Page 207

floating in the wind; while loud cries were heard on every hand.

     "Hurrah for Camerfield!"

     "Hurrah for Mandiboy!"

      It was a political meeting; at least so Fix conjectured, who said to
Mr. Fogg, "Perhaps we had better not mingle with the crowd. There may be
danger in it."

     "Yes," returned Mr. Fogg; "and blows, even if they are political are
still blows."

     Fix smiled at this remark; and, in order to be able to see without
being jostled about, the party took up a position on the top of a flight of
steps situated at the upper end of Montgomery Street. Opposite them, on the
other side of the street, between a coal wharf and a petroleum warehouse, a
large platform had been erected in the open air, towards which the current
of the crowd seemed to be directed.

     For what purpose was this meeting? What was the occasion of this
excited assemblage? Phileas Fogg could not imagine. Was it to nominate some
high official -- mdash; a governor or member of Congress? It was not
improbable, so agitated was the multitude before them.

     Just at this moment there was an unusual stir in the human mass. All
the hands were raised in the air. Some, tightly closed, seemed to disappear
suddenly in the midst of the cries -- mdash; an energetic way, no doubt, of
casting a vote.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
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The crowd swayed back, the banners and flags wavered, disappeared an
instant, then reappeared in tatters. The undulations of the human surge
reached the steps, while all the heads floundered on the surface like a sea
agitated by a squall. Many of the black hats disappeared, and the greater
part of the crowd seemed to have diminished in height.

     "It is evidently a meeting," said Fix, "and its object must be an
exciting one. I should not wonder if it were about the Alabama, despite the
fact that that question is settled."

     "Perhaps," replied Mr. Fogg, simply.

     "At least, there are two champions in presence of each other, the
Honourable Mr. Camerfield and the Honourable Mr. Mandiboy."

     Aouda, leaning upon Mr. Fogg's arm, observed the tumultuous scene with
surprise, while Fix asked a man near him what the cause of it all was.
Before the man could reply, a fresh agitation arose; hurrahs and excited
shouts were heard; the staffs of the banners began to be used as offensive
weapons; and fists flew about in every direction. Thumps were exchanged
from the tops of the carriages and omnibuses which had been blocked up in
the crowd. Boots and shoes went whirling through the air, and Mr. Fogg
thought he even heard the crack of revolvers mingling in the din, the rout
approached the stairway,
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
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and flowed over the lower step. One of the parties had evidently been
repulsed; but the mere lookers-on could not tell whether Mandiboy or
Camerfield had gained the upper hand.

     "It would be prudent for us to retire," said Fix, who was anxious that
Mr. Fogg should not receive any injury, at least until they got back to
London. "If there is any question about England in all this, and we were
recognised, I fear it would go hard with us."

     "An English subject -- mdash; " began Mr. Fogg.

     He did not finish his sentence; for a terrific hubbub now arose on the
terrace behind the flight of steps where they stood, and there were frantic
shouts of, "Hurrah for Mandiboy! Hip, hip, hurrah!"

     It was a band of voters coming to the rescue of their allies, and
taking the Camerfield forces in flank. Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix found
themselves between two fires; it was too late to escape. The torrent of
men, armed with loaded canes and sticks, was irresistible. Phileas Fogg and
Fix were roughly hustled in their attempts to protect their fair companion;
the former, as cool as ever, tried to defend himself with the weapons which
nature has placed at the end of every Englishman's arm, but in vain. A big
brawny fellow with a red beard, flushed face, and broad shoulders, who
seemed to be the chief of the band, raised his clenched fist to strike Mr.
Fogg, whom he would have
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Page 210

given a crushing blow, had not Fix rushed in and received it in his stead.
An enormous bruise immediately made its appearance under the detective's
silk hat, which was completely smashed in.

     "Yankee!" exclaimed Mr. Fogg, darting a contemptuous look at the
ruffian.

     "Englishman!" returned the other. "We will meet again!"

     "When you please."

     "What is your name?"

     "Phileas Fogg. And yours?"

     "Colonel Stamp Proctor."

     The human tide now swept by, after overturning Fix, who speedily got
upon his feet again, though with tattered clothes. Happily, he was not
seriously hurt. His travelling overcoat was divided into two unequal parts,
and his trousers resembled those of certain Indians, which fit less
compactly than they are easy to put on. Aouda had escaped unharmed, and Fix
alone bore marks of the fray in his black and blue bruise.

     "Thanks," said Mr. Fogg to the detective, as soon as they were out of
the crowd.

     "No thanks are necessary," replied. Fix; "but let us go."

     "Where?"

     "To a tailor's."
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     Such a visit was, indeed, opportune. The clothing of both Mr. Fogg and
Fix was in rags, as if they had themselves been actively engaged in the
contest between Camerfield and Mandiboy. An hour after, they were once more
suitably attired, and with Aouda returned to the International Hotel.

     Passepartout was waiting for his master, armed with half a dozen
six-barrelled revolvers. When he perceived Fix, he knit his brows; but
Aouda having, in a few words, told him of their adventure, his countenance
resumed its placid expression. Fix evidently was no longer an enemy, but an
ally; he was faithfully keeping his word.

     Dinner over, the coach which was to convey the passengers and their
luggage to the station drew up to the door. As he was getting in, Mr. Fogg
said to Fix, "You have not seen this Colonel Proctor again?"

     "No."

     "I will come back to America to find him," said Phileas Fogg calmly.
"It would not be right for an Englishman to permit himself to be treated in
that way, without retaliating."

     The detective smiled, but did not reply. It was clear that Mr. Fogg
was one of those Englishmen who, while they do not tolerate duelling at
home, fight abroad when their honour is attacked.

     At a quarter before six the travellers reached the station,
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and found the train ready to depart. As he was about to enter it, Mr. Fogg
called a porter, and said to him: "My friend, was there not some trouble
to-day in San Francisco?"

     "It was a political meeting, sir," replied the porter.

     "But I thought there was a great deal of disturbance in the streets."

     "It was only a meeting assembled for an election."

     "The election of a general-in-chief, no doubt?" asked Mr. Fogg.

     "No, sir; of a justice of the peace."

     Phileas Fogg got into the train, which started off at full speed.

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Page 213

       IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND PARTY TRAVEL BY THE PACIFIC RAILROAD

     "From ocean to ocean" -- mdash; so say the Americans; and these four
words compose the general designation of the "great trunk line" which
crosses the entire width of the United States. The Pacific Railroad is,
however, really divided into two distinct lines: the Central Pacific,
between San Francisco and Ogden, and the Union Pacific, between Ogden and
Omaha. Five main lines connect Omaha with New York.

     New York and San Francisco are thus united by an uninterrupted metal
ribbon, which measures no less than three thousand seven hundred and
eighty-six miles. Between Omaha and the Pacific the railway crosses a
territory which is still infested by Indians and wild beasts, and a large
tract which the Mormons, after they were driven from Illinois in 1845,
began to colonise.
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     The journey from New York to San Francisco consumed, formerly, under
the most favourable conditions, at least six months. It is now accomplished
in seven days.

     It was in 1862 that, in spite of the Southern Members of Congress, who
wished a more southerly route, it was decided to lay the road between the
forty-first and forty-second parallels. President Lincoln himself fixed the
end of the line at Omaha, in Nebraska. The work was at once commenced, and
pursued with true American energy; nor did the rapidity with which it went
on injuriously affect its good execution. The road grew, on the prairies, a
mile and a half a day. A locomotive, running on the rails laid down the
evening before, brought the rails to be laid on the morrow, and advanced
upon them as fast as they were put in position.

     The Pacific Railroad is joined by several branches in Iowa, Kansas,
Colorado, and Oregon. On leaving Omaha, it passes along the left bank of
the Platte River as far as the junction of its northern branch, follows its
southern branch, crosses the Laramie territory and the Wahsatch Mountains,
turns the Great Salt Lake, and reaches Salt Lake City, the Mormon capital,
plunges into the Tuilla Valley, across the American Desert, Cedar and
Humboldt Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, and descends, via Sacramento, to the
Pacific -- mdash; its grade, even on the Rocky
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Mountains, never exceeding one hundred and twelve feet to the mile.

     Such was the road to be traversed in seven days, which would enable
Phileas Fogg -- mdash; at least, so he hoped -- mdash; to take the Atlantic
steamer at New York on the 11th for Liverpool.

     The car which he occupied was a sort of long omnibus on eight wheels,
and with no compartments in the interior. It was supplied with two rows of
seats, perpendicular to the direction of the train on either side of an
aisle which conducted to the front and rear platforms. These platforms were
found throughout the train, and the passengers were able to pass from one
end of the train to the other. It was supplied with saloon cars, balcony
cars, restaurants, and smoking-cars; theatre cars alone were wanting, and
they will have these some day.

     Book and news dealers, sellers of edibles, drinkables, and cigars, who
seemed to have plenty of customers, were continually circulating in the
aisles.

     The train left Oakland station at six o'clock. It was already night,
cold and cheerless, the heavens being overcast with clouds which seemed to
threaten snow. The train did not proceed rapidly; counting the stoppages,
it did not run more than twenty miles an hour, which was a sufficient
speed, however, to enable it to reach Omaha within its designated time.
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     There was but little conversation in the car, and soon many of the
passengers were overcome with sleep. Passepartout found himself beside the
detective; but he did not talk to him. After recent events, their relations
with each other had grown somewhat cold; there could no longer be mutual
sympathy or intimacy between them. Fix's manner had not changed; but
Passepartout was very reserved, and ready to strangle his former friend on
the slightest provocation.

     Snow began to fall an hour after they started, a fine snow, however,
which happily could not obstruct the train; nothing could be seen from the
windows but a vast, white sheet, against which the smoke of the locomotive
had a greyish aspect.

     At eight o'clock a steward entered the car and announced that the time
for going to bed had arrived; and in a few minutes the car was transformed
into a dormitory. The backs of the seats were thrown back, bedsteads
carefully packed were rolled out by an ingenious system, berths were
suddenly improvised, and each traveller had soon at his disposition a
comfortable bed, protected from curious eyes by thick curtains. The sheets
were clean and the pillows soft. It only remained to go to bed and sleep
which everybody did -- mdash; while the train sped on across the State of
California.

     The country between San Francisco and Sacramento is
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not very hilly. The Central Pacific, taking Sacramento for its
starting-point, extends eastward to meet the road from Omaha. The line from
San Francisco to Sacramento runs in a north-easterly direction, along the
American River, which empties into San Pablo Bay. The one hundred and
twenty miles between these cities were accomplished in six hours, and
towards midnight, while fast asleep, the travellers passed through
Sacramento; so that they saw nothing of that important place, the seat of
the State government, with its fine quays, its broad streets, its noble
hotels, squares, and churches.

     The train, on leaving Sacramento, and passing the junction, Roclin,
Auburn, and Colfax, entered the range of the Sierra Nevada. 'Cisco was
reached at seven in the morning; and an hour later the dormitory was
transformed into an ordinary car, and the travellers could observe the
picturesque beauties of the mountain region through which they were
steaming. The railway track wound in and out among the passes, now
approaching the mountain-sides, now suspended over precipices, avoiding
abrupt angles by bold curves, plunging into narrow defiles, which seemed to
have no outlet. The locomotive, its great funnel emitting a weird light,
with its sharp bell, and its cow-catcher extended like a spur, mingled its
shrieks and bellowings with the noise of torrents and cascades, and twined
its smoke among the branches of the gigantic pines.
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     There were few or no bridges or tunnels on the route. The railway
turned around the sides of the mountains, and did not attempt to violate
nature by taking the shortest cut from one point to another.

     The train entered the State of Nevada through the Carson Valley about
nine o'clock, going always northeasterly; and at midday reached Reno, where
there was a delay of twenty minutes for breakfast.

     From this point the road, running along Humboldt River, passed
northward for several miles by its banks; then it turned eastward, and kept
by the river until it reached the Humboldt Range, nearly at the extreme
eastern limit of Nevada.

      Having breakfasted, Mr. Fogg and his companions resumed their places
in the car, and observed the varied landscape which unfolded itself as they
passed along the vast prairies, the mountains lining the horizon, and the
creeks, with their frothy, foaming streams. Sometimes a great herd of
buffaloes, massing together in the distance, seemed like a moveable dam.
These innumerable multitudes of ruminating beasts often form an
insurmountable obstacle to the passage of the trains; thousands of them
have been seen passing over the track for hours together, in compact ranks.
The locomotive is then forced to stop and wait till the road is once more
clear.

     This happened, indeed, to the train in which Mr. Fogg
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was travelling. About twelve o'clock a troop of ten or twelve thousand head
of buffalo encumbered the track. The locomotive, slackening its speed,
tried to clear the way with its cow-catcher; but the mass of animals was
too great. The buffaloes marched along with a tranquil gait, uttering now
and then deafening bellowings. There was no use of interrupting them, for,
having taken a particular direction, nothing can moderate and change their
course; it is a torrent of living flesh which no dam could contain.

     The travellers gazed on this curious spectacle from the platforms; but
Phileas Fogg, who had the most reason of all to be in a hurry, remained in
his seat, and waited philosophically until it should please the buffaloes
to get out of the way.

     Passepartout was furious at the delay they occasioned, and longed to
discharge his arsenal of revolvers upon them.

     "What a country!" cried he. "Mere cattle stop the trains, and go by in
a procession, just as if they were not impeding travel! Parbleu! I should
like to know if Mr. Fogg foresaw this mishap in his programme! And here's
an engineer who doesn't dare to run the locomotive into this herd of
beasts!"

     The engineer did not try to overcome the obstacle, and he was wise. He
would have crushed the first buffaloes, no doubt, with the cow-catcher; but
the locomotive, however
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Page 220

powerful, would soon have been checked, the train would inevitably have
been thrown off the track, and would then have been helpless.

     The best course was to wait patiently, and regain the lost time by
greater speed when the obstacle was removed. The procession of buffaloes
lasted three full hours, and it was night before the track was clear. The
last ranks of the herd were now passing over the rails, while the first had
already disappeared below the southern horizon.

     It was eight o'clock when the train passed through the defiles of the
Humboldt Range, and half-past nine when it penetrated Utah, the region of
the Great Salt Lake, the singular colony of the Mormons.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 221

   IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT UNDERGOES, AT A SPEED OF TWENTY MILES AN HOUR, A
                          COURSE OF MORMON HISTORY

     During the night of the 5th of December, the train ran south-easterly
for about fifty miles; then rose an equal distance in a north-easterly
direction, towards the Great Salt Lake.

     Passepartout, about nine o'clock, went out upon the platform to take
the air. The weather was cold, the heavens grey, but it was not snowing.
The sun's disc, enlarged by the mist, seemed an enormous ring of gold, and
Passepartout was amusing himself by calculating its value in pounds
sterling, when he was diverted from this interesting study by a
strange-looking personage who made his appearance on the platform.

     This personage, who had taken the train at Elko, was tall and dark,
with black moustache, black stockings, a
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black silk hat, a black waistcoat, black trousers, a white cravat, and
dogskin gloves. He might have been taken for a clergyman. He went from one
end of the train to the other, and affixed to the door of each car a notice
written in manuscript.

     Passepartout approached and read one of these notices, which stated
that Elder William Hitch, Mormon missionary, taking advantage of his
presence on train No. 48, would deliver a lecture on Mormonism in car No.
117, from eleven to twelve o'clock; and that he invited all who were
desirous of being instructed concerning the mysteries of the religion of
the "Latter Day Saints" to attend.

     "I'll go," said Passepartout to himself. He knew nothing of Mormonism
except the custom of polygamy, which is its foundation.

     The news quickly spread through the train, which contained about one
hundred passengers, thirty of whom, at most, attracted by the notice,
ensconced themselves in car No. 117. Passepartout took one of the front
seats. Neither Mr. Fogg nor Fix cared to attend.

     At the appointed hour Elder William Hitch rose, and, in an irritated
voice, as if he had already been contradicted, said, "I tell you that Joe
Smith is a martyr, that his brother Hiram is a martyr, and that the
persecutions of the United States Government against the prophets will
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Page 223

also make a martyr of Brigham Young. Who dares to say the contrary?"

     No one ventured to gainsay the missionary, whose excited tone
contrasted curiously with his naturally calm visage. No doubt his anger
arose from the hardships to which the Mormons were actually subjected. The
government had just succeeded, with some difficulty, in reducing these
independent fanatics to its rule. It had made itself master of Utah, and
subjected that territory to the laws of the Union, after imprisoning
Brigham Young on a charge of rebellion and polygamy. The disciples of the
prophet had since redoubled their efforts, and resisted, by words at least,
the authority of Congress. Elder Hitch, as is seen, was trying to make
proselytes on the very railway trains.

     Then, emphasising his words with his loud voice and frequent gestures,
he related the history of the Mormons from Biblical times: how that, in
Israel, a Mormon prophet of the tribe of Joseph published the annals of the
new religion, and bequeathed them to his son Mormon; how, many centuries
later, a translation of this precious book, which was written in Egyptian,
was made by Joseph Smith, junior, a Vermont farmer, who revealed himself as
a mystical prophet in 1825; and how, in short, the celestial messenger
appeared to him in an illuminated forest, and gave him the annals of the
Lord.
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Page 224

     Several of the audience, not being much interested in the missionary's
narrative, here left the car; but Elder Hitch, continuing his lecture,
related how Smith, junior, with his father, two brothers, and a few
disciples, founded the church of `the "Latter Day Saints," which, adopted
not only in America, but in England, Norway and Sweden, and Germany, counts
many artisans, as well as men engaged in the liberal professions, among its
members; how a colony was established in Ohio, a temple erected there at a
cost of two hundred thousand dollars, and a town built at Kirkland; how
Smith became an enterprising banker, and received from a simple mummy
showman a papyrus scroll written by Abraham and several famous Egyptians.

     The Elder's story became somewhat wearisome, and his audience grew
gradually less, until it was reduced to twenty passengers. But this did not
disconcert the enthusiast, who proceeded with the story of Joseph Smith's
bankruptcy in 1837, and how his ruined creditors gave him a coat of tar and
feathers; his reappearance some years afterwards, more honourable and
honoured than ever, at Independence, Missouri, the chief of a flourishing
colony of three thousand disciples, and his pursuit thence by outraged
Gentiles, and retirement into the Far West.

     Ten hearers only were now left, among them honest Passepartout, who
was listening with all his ears. Thus he
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                                  [Image]

learned that, after long persecutions, Smith reappeared in Illinois, and in
1839 founded a community at Nauvoo, on the Mississippi, numbering
twenty-five thousand souls, of which he became mayor, chief justice, and
general-in-chief; that he announced himself, in 1843, as a candidate for
the Presidency of the United States; and that finally, being drawn into
ambuscade at Carthage, he was thrown into prison, and assassinated by a
band of men disguised in masks.

     Passepartout was now the only person left in the car, and the Elder,
looking him full in the face, reminded him that, two years after the
assassination of Joseph Smith, the inspired prophet, Brigham Young, his
successor, left Nauvoo for the banks of the Great Salt Lake, where, in the
midst of that fertile region, directly on the route of the emigrants who
crossed Utah on their way to California, the new colony, thanks to the
polygamy practised by the Mormons, had flourished beyond expectations.

     "And this," added Elder William Hitch, "this is why the jealousy of
Congress has been aroused against us! Why have the soldiers of the Union
invaded the soil of Utah? Why has Brigham Young, our chief, been
imprisoned, in contempt of all justice? Shall we yield to force? Never!
Driven from Vermont, driven from Illinois, driven from Ohio, driven from
Missouri, driven from Utah, we shall yet find some independent territory on
which to plant our tents. And you, my brother," continued the
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Page 226

Elder, fixing his angry eyes upon his single auditor, "will you not plant
yours there, too, under the shadow of our flag?"

     "No!" replied Passepartout courageously, in his turn retiring from the
car, and leaving the Elder to preach to vacancy.

     During the lecture the train had been making good progress, and
towards half-past twelve it reached the northwest border of the Great Salt
Lake. Thence the passengers could observe the vast extent of this interior
sea, which is also called the Dead Sea, and into which flows an American
Jordan. It is a picturesque expanse, framed in lofty crags in large strata,
encrusted with white salt -- mdash; a superb sheet of water, which was
formerly of larger extent than now, its shores having encroached with the
lapse of time, and thus at once reduced its breadth and increased its
depth.

     The Salt Lake, seventy miles long and thirty-five wide, is situated
three miles eight hundred feet above the sea. Quite different from Lake
Asphaltite, whose depression is twelve hundred feet below the sea, it
contains considerable salt, and one quarter of the weight of its water is
solid matter, its specific weight being 1,170, and, after being distilled,
1,000. Fishes are, of course, unable to live in it, and those which descend
through the Jordan, the Weber, and other streams soon perish.
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Page 227

     The country around the lake was well cultivated, for the Mormons are
mostly farmers; while ranches and pens for domesticated animals, fields of
wheat, corn, and other cereals, luxuriant prairies, hedges of wild rose,
clumps of acacias and milk-wort, would have been seen six months later. Now
the ground was covered with a thin powdering of snow.

     The train reached Ogden at two o'clock, where it rested for six hours,
Mr. Fogg and his party had time to pay a visit to Salt Lake City, connected
with Ogden by a branch road; and they spent two hours in this strikingly
American town, built on the pattern of other cities of the Union, like a
checker-board, "with the sombre sadness of right-angles," as Victor Hugo
expresses it. The founder of the City of the Saints could not escape from
the taste for symmetry which distinguishes the Anglo-Saxons. In this
strange country, where the people are certainly not up to the level of
their institutions, everything is done "squarely" cities, houses, and
follies.

     The travellers, then, were promenading, at three o'clock, about the
streets of the town built between the banks of the Jordan and the spurs of
the Wahsatch Range. They saw few or no churches, but the prophet's mansion,
the court-house, and the arsenal, blue-brick houses with verandas and
porches, surrounded by gardens bordered with acacias, palms, and locusts. A
clay and pebble wall,
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Page 228

built in 1853, surrounded the town; and in the principal street were the
market and several hotels adorned with pavilions. The place did not seem
thickly populated. The streets were almost deserted, except in the vicinity
of the temple, which they only reached after having traversed several
quarters surrounded by palisades. There were many women, which was easily
accounted for by the "peculiar institution" of the Mormons; but it must not
be supposed that all the Mormons are polygamists. They are free to marry or
not, as they please; but it is worth noting that it is mainly the female
citizens of Utah who are anxious to marry, as, according to the Mormon
religion, maiden ladies are not admitted to the possession of its highest
joys. These poor creatures seemed to be neither well off nor happy. Some --
mdash; the more well-to-do, no doubt -- mdash; wore short, open black silk
dresses, under a hood or modest shawl; others were habited in Indian
fashion.

     Passepartout could not behold without a certain fright these women,
charged, in groups, with conferring happiness on a single Mormon. His
common sense pitied, above all, the husband. It seemed to him a terrible
thing to have to guide so many wives at once across the vicissitudes of
life, and to conduct them, as it were, in a body to the Mormon paradise
with the prospect of seeing them in the company of the glorious Smith, who
doubtless was the chief ornament of that delightful place, to all eternity.
He felt
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Page 229

decidedly repelled from such a vocation, and he imagined -- mdash; perhaps
he was mistaken -- mdash; that the fair ones of Salt Lake City cast rather
alarming glances on his person. Happily, his stay there was but brief. At
four the party found themselves again at the station, took their places in
the train, and the whistle sounded for starting. Just at the moment,
however, that the locomotive wheels began to move, cries of "Stop! stop!"
were heard.

     Trains, like time and tide, stop for no one. The gentleman who uttered
the cries was evidently a belated Mormon. He was breathless with running.
Happily for him, the station had neither gates nor barriers. He rushed
along the track, jumped on the rear platform of the train, and fell,
exhausted, into one of the seats.

     Passepartout, who had been anxiously watching this amateur gymnast,
approached him with lively interest, and learned that he had taken flight
after an unpleasant domestic scene.

     When the Mormon had recovered his breath, Passepartout ventured to ask
him politely how many wives he had; for, from the manner in which he had
decamped, it might be thought that he had twenty at least.

     "One, sir," replied the Mormon, raising his arms heavenward -- "one,
and that was enough!"

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Page 230

 IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT DOES NOT SUCCEED IN MAKING ANYBODY LISTEN TO REASON

     The train, on leaving Great Salt Lake at Ogden, passed northward for
an hour as far as Weber River, having completed nearly nine hundred miles
from San Francisco. From this point it took an easterly direction towards
the jagged Wahsatch Mountains. It was in the section included between this
range and the Rocky Mountains that the American engineers found the most
formidable difficulties in laying the road, and that the government granted
a subsidy of forty-eight thousand dollars per mile, instead of sixteen
thousand allowed for the work done on the plains. But the engineers,
instead of violating nature, avoided its difficulties by winding around,
instead of penetrating the rocks. One tunnel only, fourteen thousand feet
in length, was pierced in order to arrive at the great basin.
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     The track up to this time had reached its highest elevation at the
Great Salt Lake. From this point it described a long curve, descending
towards Bitter Creek Valley, to rise again to the dividing ridge of the
waters between the Atlantic and the Pacific. There were many creeks in this
mountainous region, and it was necessary to cross Muddy Creek, Green Creek,
and others, upon culverts.

     Passepartout grew more and more impatient as they went on, while Fix
longed to get out of this difficult region, and was more anxious than
Phileas Fogg himself to be beyond the danger of delays and accidents, and
set foot on English soil.

     At ten o'clock at night the train stopped at Fort Bridger station, and
twenty minutes later entered Wyoming Territory, following the valley of
Bitter Creek throughout. The next day, 7th December, they stopped for a
quarter of an hour at Green River station. Snow had fallen abundantly
during the night, but, being mixed with rain, it had half melted, and did
not interrupt their progress. The bad weather, however, annoyed
Passepartout; for the accumulation of snow, by blocking the wheels of the
cars, would certainly have been fatal to Mr. Fogg's tour.

     "What an idea!" he said to himself. "Why did my master make this
journey in winter? Couldn't he have waited for the good season to increase
his chances?"

     While the worthy Frenchman was absorbed in the state
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Page 232

of the sky and the depression of the temperature, Aouda was experiencing
fears from a totally different cause.

     Several passengers had got off at Green River, and were walking up and
down the platforms; and among these Aouda recognised Colonel Stamp Proctor,
the same who had so grossly insulted Phileas Fogg at the San Francisco
meeting. Not wishing to be recognised, the young woman drew back from the
window, feeling much alarm at her discovery. She was attached to the man
who, however coldly, gave her daily evidences of the most absolute
devotion. She did not comprehend, perhaps, the depth of the sentiment with
which her protector inspired her, which she called gratitude, but which,
though she was unconscious of it, was really more than that. Her heart sank
within her when she recognised the man whom Mr. Fogg desired, sooner or
later, to call to account for his conduct. Chance alone, it was clear, had
brought Colonel Proctor on this train; but there he was, and it was
necessary, at all hazards, that Phileas Fogg should not perceive his
adversary.

     Aouda seized a moment when Mr. Fogg was asleep to tell Fix and
Passepartout whom she had seen.

     "That Proctor on this train!" cried Fix. "Well, reassure yourself,
madam; before he settles with Mr. Fogg; he has got to deal with me! It
seems to me that I was the more insulted of the two."
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Page 233

     "And, besides," added Passepartout, "I'll take charge of him, colonel
as he is."

     "Mr. Fix," resumed Aouda, "Mr. Fogg will allow no one to avenge him.
He said that he would come back to America to find this man. Should he
perceive Colonel Proctor, we could not prevent a collision which might have
terrible results. He must not see him."

     "You are right, madam," replied Fix; "a meeting between them might
ruin all. Whether he were victorious or beaten, Mr. Fogg would be delayed,
and -- mdash; "

     "And," added Passepartout, "that would play the game of the gentlemen
of the Reform Club. In four days we shall be in New York. Well, if my
master does not leave this car during those four days, we may hope that
chance will not bring him face to face with this confounded American. We
must, if possible, prevent his stirring out of it."

     The conversation dropped. Mr. Fogg had just woke up, and was looking
out of the window. Soon after Passepartout, without being heard by his
master or Aouda, whispered to the detective, "Would you really fight for
him?"

     "I would do anything," replied Fix, in a tone which betrayed
determined will, "to get him back living to Europe!"

     Passepartout felt something like a shudder shoot through his frame,
but his confidence in his master remained unbroken.
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Page 234

     Was there any means of detaining Mr. Fogg in the car, to avoid a
meeting between him and the colonel? It ought not to be a difficult task,
since that gentleman was naturally sedentary and little curious. The
detective, at least, seemed to have found a way; for, after a few moments,
he said to Mr. Fogg, "These are long and slow hours, sir, that we are
passing on the railway."

     "Yes," replied Mr. Fogg; "but they pass."

     "You were in the habit of playing whist," resumed Fix, "on the
steamers."

     "Yes; but it would be difficult to do so here. I have neither cards
nor partners."

     "Oh, but we can easily buy some cards, for they are sold on all the
American trains. And as for partners, if madam plays -- mdash; "

     "Certainly, sir," Aouda quickly replied; "I understand whist. It is
part of an English education."

     "I myself have some pretensions to playing a good game. Well, here are
three of us, and a dummy -- mdash; "

     "As you please, sir," replied Phileas Fogg, heartily glad to resume
his favourite pastime even on the railway.

     Passepartout was dispatched in search of the steward, and soon
returned with two packs of cards, some pins, counters, and a shelf covered
with cloth.

     The game commenced. Aouda understood whist sufficiently well, and even
received some compliments on her
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playing from Mr. Fogg. As for the detective, he was simply an adept, and
worthy of being matched against his present opponent.

     "Now," thought Passepartout, "we've got him. He won't budge."

     At eleven in the morning the train had reached the dividing ridge of
the waters at Bridger Pass, seven thousand five hundred and twenty-four
feet above the level of the sea, one of the highest points attained by the
track in crossing the Rocky Mountains. After going about two hundred miles,
the travellers at last found themselves on one of those vast plains which
extend to the Atlantic, and which nature has made so propitious for laying
the iron road.

     On the declivity of the Atlantic basin the first streams, branches of
the North Platte River, already appeared. The whole northern and eastern
horizon was bounded by the immense semi-circular curtain which is formed by
the southern portion of the Rocky Mountains, the highest being Laramie
Peak. Between this and the railway extended vast plains, plentifully
irrigated. On the right rose the lower spurs of the mountainous mass which
extends southward to the sources of the Arkansas River, one of the great
tributaries of the Missouri.

     At half-past twelve the travellers caught sight for an instant of Fort
Halleck, which commands that section;
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Page 236

and in a few more hours the Rocky Mountains were crossed. There was reason
to hope, then, that no accident would mark the journey through this
difficult country. The snow had ceased falling, and the air became crisp
and cold. Large birds, frightened by the locomotive, rose and flew off in
the distance. No wild beast appeared on the plain. It was a desert in its
vast nakedness.

     After a comfortable breakfast, served in the car, Mr. Fogg and his
partners had just resumed whist, when a violent whistling was heard, and
the train stopped. Passepartout put his head out of the door, but saw
nothing to cause the delay; no station was in view.

     Aouda and Fix feared that Mr. Fogg might take it into his head to get
out; but that gentleman contented himself with saying to his servant, "See
what is the matter."

     Passepartout rushed out of the car. Thirty or forty passengers had
already descended, amongst them Colonel Stamp Proctor.

     The train had stopped before a red signal which blocked the way. The
engineer and conductor were talking excitedly with a signal-man, whom the
station-master at Medicine Bow, the next stopping place, had sent on
before. The passengers drew around and took part in the discussion, in
which Colonel Proctor, with his insolent manner, was conspicuous.

     Passepartout, joining the group, heard the signal-man
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say, "No! you can't pass. The bridge at Medicine Bow is shaky, and would
not bear the weight of the train."

     This was a suspension-bridge thrown over some rapids, about a mile
from the place where they now were. According to the signal-man, it was in
a ruinous condition, several of the iron wires being broken; and it was
impossible to risk the passage. He did not in any way exaggerate the
condition of the bridge. It may be taken for granted that, rash as the
Americans usually are, when they are prudent there is good reason for it.

     Passepartout, not daring to apprise his master of what he heard,
listened with set teeth, immovable as a statue.

     "Hum!" cried Colonel Proctor; "but we are not going to stay here, I
imagine, and take root in the snow?"

     "Colonel," replied the conductor, "we have telegraphed to Omaha for a
train, but it is not likely that it will reach Medicine Bow is less than
six hours."

     "Six hours!" cried Passepartout.

     "Certainly," returned the conductor, "besides, it will take us as long
as that to reach Medicine Bow on foot."

     "But it is only a mile from here," said one of the passengers.

     "Yes, but it's on the other side of the river."

     "And can't we cross that in a boat?" asked the colonel.

     "That's impossible. The creek is swelled by the rains.
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Page 238

It is a rapid, and we shall have to make a circuit of ten miles to the
north to find a ford."

     The colonel launched a volley of oaths, denouncing the railway company
and the conductor; and Passepartout, who was furious, was not disinclined
to make common cause with him. Here was an obstacle, indeed, which all his
master's banknotes could not remove.

     There was a general disappointment among the passengers, who, without
reckoning the delay, saw themselves compelled to trudge fifteen miles over
a plain covered with snow. They grumbled and protested, and would certainly
have thus attracted Phileas Fogg's attention if he had not been completely
absorbed in his game.

     Passepartout found that he could not avoid telling his master what had
occurred, and, with hanging head, he was turning towards the car, when the
engineer a true Yankee, named Forster called out, "Gentlemen, perhaps there
is a way, after all, to get over."

     "On the bridge?" asked a passenger.

     "On the bridge."

     "With our train?"

     "With our train."

     Passepartout stopped short, and eagerly listened to the engineer.

     "But the bridge is unsafe," urged the conductor.

     "No matter," replied Forster; "I think that by putting
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Page 239

on the very highest speed we might have a chance of getting over."

     "The devil!" muttered Passepartout.

     But a number of the passengers were at once attracted by the
engineer's proposal, and Colonel Proctor was especially delighted, and
found the plan a very feasible one. He told stories about engineers leaping
their trains over rivers without bridges, by putting on full steam; and
many of those present avowed themselves of the engineer's mind.

     "We have fifty chances out of a hundred of getting over," said one.

     "Eighty! ninety!"

     Passepartout was astounded, and, though ready to attempt anything to
get over Medicine Creek, thought the experiment proposed a little too
American. "Besides," thought he, "there's a still more simple way, and it
does not even occur to any of these people! Sir," said he aloud to one of
the passengers, "the engineer's plan seems to me a little dangerous, but --
mdash; "

     "Eighty chances!" replied the passenger, turning his back on him.

     "I know it," said Passepartout, turning to another passenger, "but a
simple idea -- mdash; "

     "Ideas are no use," returned the American, shrugging his shoulders,
"as the engineer assures us that we can pass."
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Page 240

     "Doubtless," urged Passepartout, "we can pass, but perhaps it would be
more prudent -- mdash; "

     "What! Prudent!" cried Colonel Proctor, whom this word seemed to
excite prodigiously. "At full speed, don't you see, at full speed!"

     "I know -- mdash; I see," repeated Passepartout; "but it would be, if
not more prudent, since that word displeases you, at least more natural --
mdash; "

     "Who! What! What's the matter with this fellow?" cried several.

     The poor fellow did not know to whom to address himself.

     "Are you afraid?" asked Colonel Proctor.

     "I afraid? Very well; I will show these people that a Frenchman can be
as American as they!"

     "All aboard!" cried the conductor.

     "Yes, all aboard!" repeated Passepartout, and immediately. "But they
can't prevent me from thinking that it would be more natural for us to
cross the bridge on foot, and let the train come after!"

     But no one heard this sage reflection, nor would anyone have
acknowledged its justice. The passengers resumed their places in the cars.
Passepartout took his seat without telling what had passed. The
whist-players were quite absorbed in their game.

     The locomotive whistled vigorously; the engineer, reversing
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                                  [Image]

the steam, backed the train for nearly a mile -- mdash; retiring, like a
jumper, in order to take a longer leap. Then, with another whistle, he
began to move forward; the train increased its speed, and soon its rapidity
became frightful; a prolonged screech issued from the locomotive; the
piston worked up and down twenty strokes to the second. They perceived that
the whole train, rushing on at the rate of a hundred miles an hour, hardly
bore upon the rails at all.

     And they passed over! It was like a flash. No one saw the bridge. The
train leaped, so to speak, from one bank to the other, and the engineer
could not stop it until it had gone five miles beyond the station. But
scarcely had the train passed the river, when the bridge, completely
ruined, fell with a crash into the rapids of Medicine Bow.

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Page 242

  IN WHICH CERTAIN INCIDENTS ARE NARRATED WHICH ARE ONLY TO BE MET WITH ON
                             AMERICAN RAILROADS

     The train pursued its course, that evening, without interruption,
passing Fort Saunders, crossing Cheyne Pass, and reaching Evans Pass. The
road here attained the highest elevation of the journey, eight thousand and
ninety-two feet above the level of the sea. The travellers had now only to
descend to the Atlantic by limitless plains, levelled by nature. A branch
of the "grand trunk" led off southward to Denver, the capital of Colorado.
The country round about is rich in gold and silver, and more than fifty
thousand inhabitants are already settled there.

     Thirteen hundred and eighty-two miles had been passed over from San
Francisco, in three days and three nights; four days and nights more would
probably bring them to New York. Phileas Fogg was not as yet behind-hand.

      During the night Camp Walbach was passed on the left;
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Page 243

Lodge Pole Creek ran parallel with the road, marking the boundary between
the territories of Wyoming and Colorado. They entered Nebraska at eleven,
passed near Sedgwick, and touched at Julesburg, on the southern branch of
the Platte River.

     It was here that the Union Pacific Railroad was inaugurated on the
23rd of October, 1867, by the chief engineer, General Dodge. Two powerful
locomotives, carrying nine cars of invited guests, amongst whom was Thomas
C. Durant, vice-president of the road, stopped at this point; cheers were
given, the Sioux and Pawnees performed an imitation Indian battle,
fireworks were let off, and the first number of the Railway Pioneer was
printed by a press brought on the train. Thus was celebrated the
inauguration of this great railroad, a mighty instrument of progress and
civilisation, thrown across the desert, and destined to link together
cities and towns which do not yet exist. The whistle of the locomotive,
more powerful than Amphion's lyre, was about to bid them rise from American
soil.

     Fort McPherson was left behind at eight in the morning, and three
hundred and fifty-seven miles had yet to be traversed before reaching
Omaha. The road followed the capricious windings of the southern branch of
the Platte River, on its left bank. At nine the train stopped at the
important town of North Platte, built between the two arms of the river,
which rejoin each other around it and form a
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
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                                  [Image]

single artery a large tributary whose waters empty into the Missouri a
little above Omaha.

     The one hundred and first meridian was passed.

     Mr. Fogg and his partners had resumed their game; no one -- mdash; not
even the dummy -- mdash; complained of the length of the trip. Fix had
begun by winning several guineas, which he seemed likely to lose; but he
showed himself a not less eager whist-player than Mr. Fogg. During the
morning, chance distinctly favoured that gentleman. Trumps and honours were
showered upon his hands.

     Once, having resolved on a bold stroke, he was on the point of playing
a spade, when a voice behind him said, "I should play a diamond."

     Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix raised their heads, and beheld Colonel
Proctor.

     Stamp Proctor and Phileas Fogg recognised each other at once.

     "Ah! it's you, is it, Englishman?" cried the colonel; "it's you who
are going to play a spade!"

     "And who plays it," replied Phileas Fogg coolly, throwing down the ten
of spades.

     "Well, it pleases me to have it diamonds," replied Colonel Proctor, in
an insolent tone.

     He made a movement as if to seize the card which had just been played,
adding, "You don't understand anything about whist."
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 245

     "Perhaps I do, as well as another," said Phileas Fogg, rising.

     "You have only to try, son of John Bull," replied the colonel.

     Aouda turned pale, and her blood ran cold. She seized Mr. Fogg's arm
and gently pulled him back. Passepartout was ready to pounce upon the
American, who was staring insolently at his opponent. But Fix got up, and,
going to Colonel Proctor said, "You forget that it is I with whom you have
to deal, sir; for it was I whom you not only insulted, but struck!"

     "Mr. Fix," said Mr. Fogg, "pardon me, but this affair is mine, and
mine only. The colonel has again insulted me, by insisting that I should
not play a spade, and he shall give me satisfaction for it."

     "When and where you will," replied the American, "and with whatever
weapon you choose."

     Aouda in vain attempted to retain Mr. Fogg; as vainly did the
detective endeavour to make the quarrel his. Passepartout wished to throw
the colonel out of the window, but a sign from his master checked him.
Phileas Fogg left the car, and the American followed him upon the platform.
"Sir," said Mr. Fogg to his adversary, "I am in a great hurry to get back
to Europe, and any delay whatever will be greatly to my disadvantage."

     "Well, what's that to me?" replied Colonel Proctor.
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Page 246

     "Sir," said Mr. Fogg, very politely, "after our meeting at San
Francisco, I determined to return to America and find you as soon as I had
completed the business which called me to England."

     "Really!"

     "Will you appoint a meeting for six months hence?"

     "Why not ten years hence?"

     "I say six months," returned Phileas Fogg; "and I shall be at the
place of meeting promptly."

     "All this is an evasion," cried Stamp Proctor. "Now or never!"

     "Very good. You are going to New York?"

     "No."

     "To Chicago?"

     "No."

     "To Omaha?"

     "What difference is it to you? Do you know Plum Creek?"

     "No," replied Mr. Fogg.

     "It's the next station. The train will be there in an hour, and will
stop there ten minutes. In ten minutes several revolver-shots could be
exchanged."

     "Very well," said Mr. Fogg. "I will stop at Plum Creek."

     "And I guess you'll stay there too," added the American insolently.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 247

     "Who knows?" replied Mr. Fogg, returning to the car as coolly as
usual. He began to reassure Aouda, telling her that blusterers were never
to be feared, and begged Fix to be his second at the approaching duel, a
request which the detective could not refuse. Mr. Fogg resumed the
interrupted game with perfect calmness.

     At eleven o'clock the locomotive's whistle announced that they were
approaching Plum Creek station. Mr. Fogg rose, and, followed by Fix, went
out upon the platform. Passepartout accompanied him, carrying a pair of
revolvers. Aouda remained in the car, as pale as death.

     The door of the next car opened, and Colonel Proctor appeared on the
platform, attended by a Yankee of his own stamp as his second. But just as
the combatants were about to step from the train, the conductor hurried up,
and shouted, "You can't get off, gentlemen!"

     "Why not?" asked the colonel.

     "We are twenty minutes late, and we shall not stop."

     "But I am going to fight a duel with this gentleman."

     "I am sorry," said the conductor; "but we shall be off at once.
There's the bell ringing now."

     The train started.

     "I'm really very sorry, gentlemen," said the conductor. "Under any
other circumstances I should have been happy to oblige you. But, after all,
as you have not had time to fight here, why not fight as we go along?"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 248

     "That wouldn't be convenient, perhaps, for this gentleman," said the
colonel, in a jeering tone.

     "It would be perfectly so," replied Phileas Fogg.

     "Well, we are really in America," thought Passepartout, "and the
conductor is a gentleman of the first order!"

     So muttering, he followed his master.

     The two combatants, their seconds, and the conductor passed through
the cars to the rear of the train. The last car was only occupied by a
dozen passengers, whom the conductor politely asked if they would not be so
kind as to leave it vacant for a few moments, as two gentlemen had an
affair of honour to settle. The passengers granted the request with
alacrity, and straightway disappeared on the platform.

     The car, which was some fifty feet long, was very convenient for their
purpose. The adversaries might march on each other in the aisle, and fire
at their ease. Never was duel more easily arranged. Mr. Fogg and Colonel
Proctor, each provided with two six-barrelled revolvers, entered the car.
The seconds, remaining outside, shut them in. They were to begin firing at
the first whistle of the locomotive. After an interval of two minutes, what
remained of the two gentlemen would be taken from the car.

     Nothing could be more simple. Indeed, it was all so simple that Fix
and Passepartout felt their hearts beating as if they would crack. They
were listening for the whistle
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 249

agreed upon, when suddenly savage cries resounded in the air, accompanied
by reports which certainly did not issue from the car where the duellists
were. The reports continued in front and the whole length of the train.
Cries of terror proceeded from the interior of the cars.

     Colonel Proctor and Mr. Fogg, revolvers in hand, hastily quitted their
prison, and rushed forward where the noise was most clamorous. They then
perceived that the train was attacked by a band of Sioux.

     This was not the first attempt of these daring Indians, for more than
once they had waylaid trains on the road. A hundred of them had, according
to their habit, jumped upon the steps without stopping the train, with the
ease of a clown mounting a horse at full gallop.

     The Sioux were armed with guns, from which came the reports, to which
the passengers, who were almost all armed, responded by revolver-shots.

     The Indians had first mounted the engine, and half stunned the
engineer and stoker with blows from their muskets. A Sioux chief, wishing
to stop the train, but not knowing how to work the regulator, had opened
wide instead of closing the steam-valve, and the locomotive was plunging
forward with terrific velocity.

     The Sioux had at the same time invaded the cars, skipping like enraged
monkeys over the roofs, thrusting open the doors, and fighting hand to hand
with the passengers.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 250

Penetrating the baggage-car, they pillaged it, throwing the trunks out of
the train. The cries and shots were constant. The travellers defended
themselves bravely; some of the cars were barricaded, and sustained a
siege, like moving forts, carried along at a speed of a hundred miles an
hour.

     Aouda behaved courageously from the first. She defended herself like a
true heroine with a revolver, which she shot through the broken windows
whenever a savage made his appearance. Twenty Sioux had fallen mortally
wounded to the ground, and the wheels crushed those who fell upon the rails
as if they had been worms. Several passengers, shot or stunned, lay on the
seats.

     It was necessary to put an end to the struggle, which had lasted for
ten minutes, and which would result in the triumph of the Sioux if the
train was not stopped. Fort Kearney station, where there was a garrison,
was only two miles distant; but, that once passed, the Sioux would be
masters of the train between Fort Kearney and the station beyond.

     The conductor was fighting beside Mr. Fogg, when he was shot and fell.
At the same moment he cried, "Unless the train is stopped in five minutes,
we are lost!"

     "It shall be stopped," said Phileas Fogg, preparing to rush from the
car.

     "Stay, monsieur," cried Passepartout; "I will go."
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Page 251

                                  [Image]

     Mr. Fogg had not time to stop the brave fellow, who, opening a door
unperceived by the Indians, succeeded in slipping under the car; and while
the struggle continued and the balls whizzed across each other over his
head, he made use of his old acrobatic experience, and with amazing agility
worked his way under the cars, holding on to the chains, aiding himself by
the brakes and edges of the sashes, creeping from one car to another with
marvellous skill, and thus gaining the forward end of the train.

     There, suspended by one hand between the baggage-car and the tender,
with the other he loosened the safety chains; but, owing to the traction,
he would never have succeeded in unscrewing the yoking-bar, had not a
violent concussion jolted this bar out. The train, now detached from the
engine, remained a little behind, whilst the locomotive rushed forward with
increased speed.

     Carried on by the force already acquired, the train still moved for
several minutes; but the brakes were worked and at last they stopped, less
than a hundred feet from Kearney station.

     The soldiers of the fort, attracted by the shots, hurried up; the
Sioux had not expected them, and decamped in a body before the train
entirely stopped.

     But when the passengers counted each other on the station platform
several were found missing; among others the courageous Frenchman, whose
devotion had just saved them.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 252

                 IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SIMPLY DOES HIS DUTY

     Three passengers including Passepartout had disappeared. Had they been
killed in the struggle? Were they taken prisoners by the Sioux? It was
impossible to tell.

     There were many wounded, but none mortally. Colonel Proctor was one of
the most seriously hurt; he had fought bravely, and a ball had entered his
groin. He was carried into the station with the other wounded passengers,
to receive such attention as could be of avail.

     Aouda was safe; and Phileas Fogg, who had been in the thickest of the
fight, had not received a scratch. Fix was slightly wounded in the arm. But
Passepartout was not to be found, and tears coursed down Aouda's cheeks.

     All the passengers had got out of the train, the wheels of which were
stained with blood. From the tyres and spokes hung ragged pieces of flesh.
As far as the eye could reach
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 253

on the white plain behind, red trails were visible. The last Sioux were
disappearing in the south, along the banks of Republican River.

     Mr. Fogg, with folded arms, remained motionless. He had a serious
decision to make. Aouda, standing near him, looked at him without speaking,
and he understood her look. If his servant was a prisoner, ought he not to
risk everything to rescue him from the Indians? "I will find him, living or
dead," said he quietly to Aouda.

     "Ah, Mr. -- mdash; Mr. Fogg!" cried she, clasping his hands and
covering them with tears.

     "Living," added Mr. Fogg, "if we do not lose a moment."

     Phileas Fogg, by this resolution, inevitably sacrificed himself; he
pronounced his own doom. The delay of a single day would make him lose the
steamer at New York, and his bet would be certainly lost. But as he
thought, "It is my duty," he did not hesitate.

     The commanding officer of Fort Kearney was there. A hundred of his
soldiers had placed themselves in a position to defend the station, should
the Sioux attack it.

     "Sir," said Mr. Fogg to the captain, "three passengers have
disappeared."

     "Dead?" asked the captain.

     "Dead or prisoners; that is the uncertainty which must be solved. Do
you propose to pursue the Sioux?"

     "That's a serious thing to do, sir," returned the captain.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 254

"These Indians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I cannot leave the fort
unprotected."

     "The lives of three men are in question, sir," said Phileas Fogg.

     "Doubtless; but can I risk the lives of fifty men to save three?"

     "I don't know whether you can, sir; but you ought to do so."

     "Nobody here," returned the other, "has a right to teach me my duty."

     "Very well," said Mr. Fogg, coldly. "I will go alone."

     "You, sir!" cried Fix, coming up; "you go alone in pursuit of the
Indians?"

     "Would you have me leave this poor fellow to perish -- mdash; him to
whom every one present owes his life? I shall go."

     "No, sir, you shall not go alone," cried the captain, touched in spite
of himself. "No! you are a brave man. Thirty volunteers!" he added, turning
to the soldiers.

     The whole company started forward at once. The captain had only to
pick his men. Thirty were chosen, and an old sergeant placed at their head.

     "Thanks, captain," said Mr. Fogg.

     "Will you let me go with you?" asked Fix.

     "Do as you please, sir. But if you wish to do me a favour, you will
remain with Aouda. In case anything should happen to me -- mdash; "
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 255

     A sudden pallor overspread the detective's face. Separate himself from
the man whom he had so persistently followed step by step! Leave him to
wander about in this desert! Fix gazed attentively at Mr. Fogg, and,
despite his suspicions and of the struggle which was going on within him,
he lowered his eyes before that calm and frank look.

     "I will stay," said he.

     A few moments after, Mr. Fogg pressed the young woman's hand, and,
having confided to her his precious carpet-bag, went off with the sergeant
and his little squad. But, before going, he had said to the soldiers, "My
friends, I will divide five thousand dollars among you, if we save the
prisoners."

     It was then a little past noon.

     Aouda retired to a waiting-room, and there she waited alone, thinking
of the simple and noble generosity, the tranquil courage of Phileas Fogg.
He had sacrificed his fortune, and was now risking his life, all without
hesitation, from duty, in silence.

     Fix did not have the same thoughts, and could scarcely conceal his
agitation. He walked feverishly up and down the platform, but soon resumed
his outward composure. He now saw the folly of which he had been guilty in
letting Fogg go alone. What! This man, whom he had just followed around the
world, was permitted now to separate
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 256

himself from him! He began to accuse and abuse himself, and, as if he were
director of police, administered to himself a sound lecture for his
greenness.

     "I have been an idiot!" he thought, "and this man will see it. He has
gone, and won't come back! But how is it that I, Fix, who have in my pocket
a warrant for his arrest, have been so fascinated by him? Decidedly, I am
nothing but an ass!"

     So reasoned the detective, while the hours crept by all too slowly. He
did not know what to do. Sometimes he was tempted to tell Aouda all; but he
could not doubt how the young woman would receive his confidences. What
course should he take? He thought of pursuing Fogg across the vast white
plains; it did not seem impossible that he might overtake him. Footsteps
were easily printed on the snow! But soon, under a new sheet, every imprint
would be effaced.

     Fix became discouraged. He felt a sort of insurmountable longing to
abandon the game altogether. He could now leave Fort Kearney station, and
pursue his journey homeward in peace.

     Towards two o'clock in the afternoon, while it was snowing hard, long
whistles were heard approaching from the east. A great shadow, preceded by
a wild light, slowly advanced, appearing still larger through the mist,
which gave it a fantastic aspect. No train was expected from the
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 257

east, neither had there been time for the succour asked for by telegraph to
arrive; the train from Omaha to San Francisco was not due till the next
day. The mystery was soon explained.

     The locomotive, which was slowly approaching with deafening whistles,
was that which, having been detached from the train, had continued its
route with such terrific rapidity, carrying off the unconscious engineer
and stoker. It had run several miles, when, the fire becoming low for want
of fuel, the steam had slackened; and it had finally stopped an hour after,
some twenty miles beyond Fort Kearney. Neither the engineer nor the stoker
was dead, and, after remaining for some time in their swoon, had come to
themselves. The train had then stopped. The engineer, when he found himself
in the desert, and the locomotive without cars, understood what had
happened. He could not imagine how the locomotive had become separated from
the train; but he did not doubt that the train left behind was in distress.

     He did not hesitate what to do. It would be prudent to continue on to
Omaha, for it would be dangerous to return to the train, which the Indians
might still be engaged in pillaging. Nevertheless, he began to rebuild the
fire in the furnace; the pressure again mounted, and the locomotive
returned, running backwards to Fort Kearney. This it was which was
whistling in the mist.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 258

     The travellers were glad to see the locomotive resume its place at the
head of the train. They could now continue the journey so terribly
interrupted.

     Aouda, on seeing the locomotive come up, hurried out of the station,
and asked the conductor, "Are you going to start?"

     "At once, madam."

     "But the prisoners, our unfortunate fellow-travellers -- mdash; "

     "I cannot interrupt the trip," replied the conductor. "We are already
three hours behind time."

     "And when will another train pass here from San Francisco?"

     "To-morrow evening, madam."

     "To-morrow evening! But then it will be too late! We must wait --
mdash; "

     "It is impossible," responded the conductor. "If you wish to go,
please get in."

     "I will not go," said Aouda.

     Fix had heard this conversation. A little while before, when there was
no prospect of proceeding on the journey, he had made up his mind to leave
Fort Kearney; but now that the train was there, ready to start, and he had
only to take his seat in the car, an irresistible influence held him back.
The station platform burned his feet, and he could not stir. The conflict
in his mind again began; anger
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 259

and failure stifled him. He wished to struggle on to the end.

     Meanwhile the passengers and some of the wounded, among them Colonel
Proctor, whose injuries were serious, had taken their places in the train.
The buzzing of the over-heated boiler was heard, and the steam was escaping
from the valves. The engineer whistled, the train started, and soon
disappeared, mingling its white smoke with the eddies of the densely
falling snow.

     The detective had remained behind.

     Several hours passed. The weather was dismal, and it was very cold.
Fix sat motionless on a bench in the station; he might have been thought
asleep. Aouda, despite the storm, kept coming out of the waiting-room,
going to the end of the platform, and peering through the tempest of snow,
as if to pierce the mist which narrowed the horizon around her, and to
hear, if possible, some welcome sound. She heard and saw nothing. Then she
would return, chilled through, to issue out again after the lapse of a few
moments, but always in vain.

     Evening came, and the little band had not returned. Where could they
be? Had they found the Indians, and were they having a conflict with them,
or were they still wandering amid the mist? The commander of the fort was
anxious, though he tried to conceal his apprehensions. As night approached,
the snow fell less plentifully, but it
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Page 260

became intensely cold. Absolute silence rested on the plains. Neither
flight of bird nor passing of beast troubled the perfect calm.

     Throughout the night Aouda, full of sad forebodings, her heart stifled
with anguish, wandered about on the verge of the plains. Her imagination
carried her far off, and showed her innumerable dangers. What she suffered
through the long hours it would be impossible to describe.

     Fix remained stationary in the same place, but did not sleep. Once a
man approached and spoke to him, and the detective merely replied by
shaking his head.

     Thus the night passed. At dawn, the half-extinguished disc of the sun
rose above a misty horizon ; but it was now possible to recognise objects
two miles off. Phileas Fogg and the squad had gone southward; in the south
all was still vacancy. It was then seven o'clock.

     The captain, who was really alarmed, did not know what course to take.

     Should he send another detachment to the rescue of the first? Should
he sacrifice more men, with so few chances of saving those already
sacrificed? His hesitation did not last long, however. Calling one of his
lieutenants, he was on the point of ordering a reconnaissance, when
gunshots were heard. Was it a signal? The soldiers rushed out of the fort,
and half a mile
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 261

off they perceived a little band returning in good order.

     Mr. Fogg was marching at their head, and just behind him were
Passepartout and the other two travellers, rescued from the Sioux.

     They had met and fought the Indians ten miles south of Fort Kearney.
Shortly before the detachment arrived. Passepartout and his companions had
begun to struggle with their captors, three of whom the Frenchman had
felled with his fists, when his master and the soldiers hastened up to
their relief.

     All were welcomed with joyful cries. Phileas Fogg distributed the
reward he had promised to the soldiers, while Passepartout, not without
reason, muttered to himself, "It must certainly be confessed that I cost my
master dear!"

     Fix, without saying a word, looked at Mr. Fogg, and it would have been
difficult to analyse the thoughts which struggled within him. As for Aouda,
she took her protector's hand and pressed it in her own, too much moved to
speak.

     Meanwhile, Passepartout was looking about for the train; he thought he
should find it there, ready to start for Omaha, and he hoped that the time
lost might be regained.

     "The train! the train!" cried he.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 262

     "Gone," replied Fix.

     "And when does the next train pass here?" said Phileas Fogg.

     "Not till this evening."

     "Ah!" returned the impassible gentleman quietly.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 263

IN WHICH FIX, THE DETECTIVE, CONSIDERABLY FURTHERS THE INTERESTS OF PHILEAS
                                    FOGG

     Phileas Fogg found himself twenty hours behind time. Passepartout, the
involuntary cause of this delay, was desperate. He had ruined his master!

     At this moment the detective approached Mr. Fogg, and, looking him
intently in the face, said:

     "Seriously, sir, are you in great haste?"

     "Quite seriously."

     "I have a purpose in asking," resumed Fix. "Is it absolutely necessary
that you should be in New York on the 11th, before nine o'clock in the
evening, the time that the steamer leaves for Liverpool?"

     "It is absolutely necessary."

     "And, if your journey had not been interrupted by these Indians, you
would have reached New York on the morning of the 11th?"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 264

     "Yes; with eleven hours to spare before the steamer left."

     "Good! you are therefore twenty hours behind. Twelve from twenty
leaves eight. You must regain eight hours. Do you wish to try to do so?"

     "On foot?" asked Mr. Fogg.

     "No; on a sledge," replied Fix. "On a sledge with sails. A man has
proposed such a method to me."

     It was the man who had spoken to Fix during the night, and whose offer
he had refused.

     Phileas Fogg did not reply at once; but Fix, having pointed out the
man, who was walking up and down in front of the station, Mr. Fogg went up
to him. An instant after, Mr. Fogg and the American, whose name was Mudge,
entered a hut built just below the fort.

     There Mr. Fogg examined a curious vehicle, a kind of frame on two long
beams, a little raised in front like the runners of a sledge, and upon
which there was room for five or six persons. A high mast was fixed on the
frame, held firmly by metallic lashings, to which was attached a large
brigantine sail. This mast held an iron stay upon which to hoist a
jib-sail. Behind, a sort of rudder served to guide the vehicle. It was, in
short, a sledge rigged like a sloop. During the winter, when the trains are
blocked up by the snow, these sledges make extremely rapid journeys across
the frozen plains from one station to
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 265

another. Provided with more sails than a cutter, and with the wind behind
them, they slip over the surface of the prairies with a speed equal if not
superior to that of the express trains.

     Mr. Fogg readily made a bargain with the owner of this land-craft. The
wind was favourable, being fresh, and blowing from the west. The snow had
hardened, and Mudge was very confident of being able to transport Mr. Fogg
in a few hours to Omaha. Thence the trains eastward run frequently to
Chicago and New York. It was not impossible that the lost time might yet be
recovered; and such an opportunity was not to be rejected.

     Not wishing to expose Aouda to the discomforts of travelling in the
open air, Mr. Fogg proposed to leave her with Passepartout at Fort Kearney,
the servant taking upon himself to escort her to Europe by a better route
and under more favourable conditions. But Aouda refused to separate from
Mr. Fogg, and Passepartout was delighted with her decision; for nothing
could induce him to leave his master while Fix was with him.

     It would be difficult to guess the detective's thoughts. Was this
conviction shaken by Phileas Fogg's return, or did he still regard him as
an exceedingly shrewd rascal, who, his journey round the world completed,
would think himself absolutely safe in England? Perhaps Fix's opinion of
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 266

Phileas Fogg was somewhat modified; but he was nevertheless resolved to do
his duty, and to hasten the return of the whole party to England as much as
possible.

     At eight o'clock the sledge was ready to start. The passengers took
their places on it, and wrapped themselves up closely in their
travelling-cloaks. The two great sails were hoisted, and under the pressure
of the wind the sledge slid over the hardened snow with a velocity of forty
miles an hour.

     The distance between Fort Kearney and Omaha, as the birds fly, is at
most two hundred miles. If the wind held good, the distance might be
traversed in five hours; if no accident happened the sledge might reach
Omaha by one o'clock.

     What a journey! The travellers, huddled close together, could not
speak for the cold, intensified by the rapidity at which they were going.
The sledge sped on as lightly as a boat over the waves. When the breeze
came skimming the earth the sledge seemed to be lifted off the ground by
its sails. Mudge, who was at the rudder, kept in a straight line, and by a
turn of his hand checked the lurches which the vehicle had a tendency to
make. All the sails were up, and the jib was so arranged as not to screen
the brigantine. A top-mast was hoisted, and another jib, held out to the
wind, added its force to the other sails. Although the speed could not be
exactly estimated, the
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 267

sledge could not be going at less than forty miles an hour.

     "If nothing breaks," said Mudge, "we shall get there!"

     Mr. Fogg had made it for Mudge's interest to reach Omaha within the
time agreed on, by the offer of a handsome reward.

     The prairie, across which the sledge was moving in a straight line,
was as flat as a sea. It seemed like a vast frozen lake. The railroad which
ran through this section ascended from the south-west to the north-west by
Great Island, Columbus, an important Nebraska town, Schuyler, and Fremont,
to Omaha. It followed throughout the right bank of the Platte River. The
sledge, shortening this route, took a chord of the arc described by the
railway. Mudge was not afraid of being stopped by the Platte River, because
it was frozen. The road, then, was quite clear of obstacles, and Phileas
Fogg had but two things to fear -- mdash; an accident to the sledge, and a
change or calm in the wind.

     But the breeze, far from lessening its force, blew as if to bend the
mast, which, however, the metallic lashings held firmly. These lashings,
like the chords of a stringed instrument, resounded as if vibrated by a
violin bow. The sledge slid along in the midst of a plaintively intense
melody.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
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     "Those chords give the fifth and the octave," said Mr. Fogg.

     These were the only words he uttered during the journey. Aouda, cosily
packed in furs and cloaks, was sheltered as much as possible from the
attacks of the freezing wind. As for Passepartout, his face was as red as
the sun's disc when it sets in the mist, and he laboriously inhaled the
biting air. With his natural buoyancy of spirits, he began to hope again.
They would reach New York on the evening, if not on the morning, of the
11th, and there was still some chances that it would be before the steamer
sailed for Liverpool.

     Passepartout even felt a strong desire to grasp his ally, Fix, by the
hand. He remembered that it was the detective who procured the sledge, the
only means of reaching Omaha in time; but, checked by some presentiment, he
kept his usual reserve. One thing, however, Passepartout would never
forget, and that was the sacrifice which Mr. Fogg had made, without
hesitation, to rescue him from the Sioux. Mr. Fogg had risked his fortune
and his life. No! His servant would never forget that!

     While each of the party was absorbed in reflections so different, the
sledge flew past over the vast carpet of snow. The creeks it passed over
were not perceived. Fields and streams disappeared under the uniform
whiteness. The plain was absolutely deserted. Between the Union Pacific
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Page 269

road and the branch which unites Kearney with Saint Joseph it formed a
great uninhabited island. Neither village, station, nor fort appeared. From
time to time they sped by some phantom-like tree, whose white skeleton
twisted and rattled in the wind. Sometimes flocks of wild birds rose, or
bands of gaunt, famished, ferocious prairie-wolves ran howling after the
sledge. Passepartout, revolver in hand, held himself ready to fire on those
which came too near. Had an accident then happened to the sledge, the
travellers, attacked by these beasts, would have been in the most terrible
danger; but it held on its even course, soon gained on the wolves, and ere
long left the howling band at a safe distance behind.

     About noon Mudge perceived by certain landmarks that he was crossing
the Platte River. He said nothing, but he felt certain that he was now
within twenty miles of Omaha. In less than an hour he left the rudder and
furled his sails, whilst the sledge, carried forward by the great impetus
the wind had given it, went on half a mile further with its sails unspread.

     It stopped at last, and Mudge, pointing to a mass of roofs white with
snow, said: "We have got there!"

     Arrived! Arrived at the station which is in daily communication, by
numerous trains, with the Atlantic seaboard!

     Passepartout and Fix jumped off, stretched their stiffened
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Page 270

limbs, and aided Mr. Fogg and the young woman to descend from the sledge.
Phileas Fogg generously rewarded Mudge, whose hand Passepartout warmly
grasped, and the party directed their steps to the Omaha railway station.

     The Pacific Railroad proper finds its terminus at this important
Nebraska town. Omaha is connected with Chicago by the Chicago and Rock
Island Railroad, which runs directly east, and passes fifty stations.

     A train was ready to start when Mr. Fogg and his party reached the
station, and they only had time to get into the cars. They had seen nothing
of Omaha; but Passepartout confessed to himself that this was not to be
regretted, as they were not travelling to see the sights.

     The train passed rapidly across the State of Iowa, by Council Bluffs,
Des Moines, and Iowa City. During the night it crossed the Mississippi at
Davenport, and by Rock Island entered Illinois. The next day, which was the
10th, at four o'clock in the evening, it reached Chicago, already risen
from its ruins, and more proudly seated than ever on the borders of its
beautiful Lake Michigan.

     Nine hundred miles separated Chicago from New York; but trains are not
wanting at Chicago. Mr. Fogg passed at once from one to the other, and the
locomotive of the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne, and Chicago Railway left at full
speed, as if it fully comprehended that that gentleman
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Page 271

had no time to lose. It traversed Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New
Jersey like a flash, rushing through towns with antique names, some of
which had streets and car-tracks, but as yet no houses. At last the Hudson
came into view; and, at a quarter-past eleven in the evening of the 11th,
the train stopped in the station on the right bank of the river, before the
very pier of the Cunard line.

     The China, for Liverpool, had started three-quarters of an hour
before!

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Page 272

    IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ENGAGES IN A DIRECT STRUGGLE WITH BAD FORTUNE

     The China, in leaving, seemed to have carried off Phileas Fogg's last
hope. None of the other steamers were able to serve his projects. The
Pereire, of the French Transatlantic Company, whose admirable steamers are
equal to any in speed and comfort, did not leave until the 14th; the
Hamburg boats did not go directly to Liverpool or London, but to Havre; and
the additional trip from Havre to Southampton would render Phileas Fogg's
last efforts of no avail. The Inman steamer did not depart till the next
day, and could not cross the Atlantic in time to save the wager.

     Mr. Fogg learned all this in consulting his Bradshaw, which gave him
the daily movements of the trans-Atlantic steamers.

     Passepartout was crushed; it overwhelmed him to lose
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Page 273

the boat by three-quarters of an hour. It was his fault, for, instead of
helping his master, he had not ceased putting obstacles in his path! And
when he recalled all the incidents of the tour, when he counted up the sums
expended in pure loss and on his own account, when he thought that the
immense stake, added to the heavy charges of this useless journey, would
completely ruin Mr. Fogg, he overwhelmed himself with bitter
self-accusations. Mr. Fogg, however, did not reproach him; and, on leaving
the Cunard pier, only said: "We will consult about what is best to-morrow.
Come."

     The party crossed the Hudson in the Jersey City ferryboat, and drove
in a carriage to the St. Nicholas Hotel, on Broadway. Rooms were engaged,
and the night passed, briefly to Phileas Fogg, who slept profoundly, but
very long to Aouda and the others, whose agitation did not permit them to
rest.

     The next day was the 12th of December. From seven in the morning of
the 12th to a quarter before nine in the evening of the 21st there were
nine days, thirteen hours, and forty-five minutes. If Phileas Fogg had left
in the China, one of the fastest steamers on the Atlantic, he would have
reached Liverpool, and then London, within the period agreed upon.

     Mr. Fogg left the hotel alone, after giving Passepartout instructions
to await his return, and inform Aouda to be
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Page 274

ready at an instant's notice. He proceeded to the banks of the Hudson, and
looked about among the vessels moored or anchored in the river, for any
that were about to depart. Several had departure signals, and were
preparing to put to sea at morning tide; for in this immense and admirable
port there is not one day in a hundred that vessels do not set out for
every quarter of the globe. But they were mostly sailing vessels, of which,
of course, Phileas Fogg could make no use.

     He seemed about to give up all hope, when he espied, anchored at the
Battery, a cable's length off at most, a trading vessel, with a screw,
well-shaped, whose funnel, puffing a cloud of smoke, indicated that she was
getting ready for departure.

     Phileas Fogg hailed a boat, got into it, and soon found himself on
board the Henrietta, iron-hulled, wood-built above. He ascended to the
deck, and asked for the captain, who forthwith presented himself. He was a
man of fifty, a sort of sea-wolf, with big eyes, a complexion of oxidised
copper, red hair and thick neck, and a growling voice.

     "The captain?" asked Mr. Fogg.

     "I am the captain."

     "I am Phileas Fogg, of London."

     "And I am Andrew Speedy, of Cardiff."

     "You are going to put to sea?"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 275

     "In an hour."

     "You are bound for -- mdash; "

     "Bordeaux."

     "And your cargo?"

     "No freight. Going in ballast."

     "Have you any passengers?"

     "No passengers. Never have passengers. Too much in the way."

     "Is your vessel a swift one?"

     "Between eleven and twelve knots. The Henrietta, well known."

     "Will you carry me and three other persons to Liverpool?"

     "To Liverpool? Why not to China?"

     "I said Liverpool."

     "No!"

     "No?"

     "No. I am setting out for Bordeaux, and shall go to Bordeaux."

     "Money is no object?"

     "None."

     The captain spoke in a tone which did not admit of a reply.

     "But the owners of the Henrietta -- mdash; " resumed Phileas Fogg.

     "The owners are myself," replied the captain. "The vessel belongs to
me."
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Page 276

     "I will freight it for you."

     "No."

     "I will buy it of you."

     "No."

     Phileas Fogg did not betray the least disappointment; but the
situation was a grave one. It was not at New York as at Hong Kong, nor with
the captain of the Henrietta as with the captain of the Tankadere. Up to
this time money had smoothed away every obstacle. Now money failed.

     Still, some means must be found to cross the Atlantic on a boat,
unless by balloon -- mdash; which would have been venturesome, besides not
being capable of being put in practice. It seemed that Phileas Fogg had an
idea, for he said to the captain, "Well, will you carry me to Bordeaux?"

     "No, not if you paid me two hundred dollars."

     "I offer you two thousand."

     "Apiece?"

     "Apiece."

     "And there are four of you?"

     "Four."

     Captain Speedy began to scratch his head. There were eight thousand
dollars to gain, without changing his route; for which it was well worth
conquering the repugnance he had for all kinds of passengers. Besides,
passenger's at two thousand dollars are no longer passengers, but valuable
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 277

merchandise. "I start at nine o'clock," said Captain Speedy, simply. "Are
you and your party ready?"

     "We will be on board at nine o'clock," replied, no less simply, Mr.
Fogg.

     It was half-past eight. To disembark from the Henrietta, jump into a
hack, hurry to the St. Nicholas, and return with Aouda, Passepartout, and
even the inseparable Fix was the work of a brief time, and was performed by
Mr. Fogg with the coolness which never abandoned him. They were on board
when the Henrietta made ready to weigh anchor.

     When Passepartout heard what this last voyage was going to cost, he
uttered a prolonged "Oh!" which extended throughout his vocal gamut.

     As for Fix, he said to himself that the Bank of England would
certainly not come out of this affair well indemnified. When they reached
England, even if Mr. Fogg did not throw some handfuls of bank-bills into
the sea, more than seven thousand pounds would have been spent!

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 278

         IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SHOWS HIMSELF EQUAL TO THE OCCASION

     An hour after, the Henrietta passed the lighthouse which marks the
entrance of the Hudson, turned the point of Sandy Hook, and put to sea.
During the day she skirted Long Island, passed Fire Island, and directed
her course rapidly eastward.

     At noon the next day, a man mounted the bridge to ascertain the
vessel's position. It might be thought that this was Captain Speedy. Not
the least in the world. It was Phileas Fogg, Esquire. As for Captain
Speedy, he was shut up in his cabin under lock and key, and was uttering
loud cries, which signified an anger at once pardonable and excessive.

     What had happened was very simple. Phileas Fogg wished to go to
Liverpool, but the captain would not carry him there. Then Phileas Fogg had
taken passage for Bordeaux,
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 279

and, during the thirty hours he had been on board, had so shrewdly managed
with his banknotes that the sailors and stokers, who were only an
occasional crew, and were not on the best terms with the captain, went over
to him in a body. This was why Phileas Fogg was in command instead of
Captain Speedy; why the captain was a prisoner in his cabin; and why, in
short, the Henrietta was directing her course towards Liverpool. It was
very clear, to see Mr. Fogg manage the craft, that he had been a sailor.

     How the adventure ended will be seen anon. Aouda was anxious, though
she said nothing. As for Passepartout, he thought Mr. Fogg's manoeuvre
simply glorious. The captain had said "between eleven and twelve knots,"
and the Henrietta confirmed his prediction.

     If, then -- mdash; for there were "ifs" still -- mdash; the sea did
not become too boisterous, if the wind did not veer round to the east, if
no accident happened to the boat or its machinery, the Henrietta might
cross the three thousand miles from New York to Liverpool in the nine days,
between the 12th and the 21st of December. It is true that, once arrived,
the affair on board the Henrietta, added to that of the Bank of England,
might create more difficulties for Mr. Fogg than he imagined or could
desire.

     During the first days, they went along smoothly enough. The sea was
not very unpropitious, the wind seemed
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 280

stationary in the north-east, the sails were hoisted, and the Henrietta
ploughed across the waves like a real trans-Atlantic steamer.

     Passepartout was delighted. His master's last exploit, the
consequences of which he ignored, enchanted him. Never had the crew seen so
jolly and dexterous a fellow. He formed warm friendships with the sailors,
and amazed them with his acrobatic feats. He thought they managed the
vessel like gentlemen, and that the stokers fired up like heroes. His
loquacious good-humour infected everyone. He had forgotten the past, its
vexations and delays. He only thought of the end, so nearly accomplished;
and sometimes he boiled over with impatience, as if heated by the furnaces
of the Henrietta. Often, also, the worthy fellow revolved around Fix,
looking at him with a keen, distrustful eye; but he did not speak to him,
for their old intimacy no longer existed.

     Fix, it must be confessed, understood nothing of what was going on.
The conquest of the Henrietta, the bribery of the crew, Fogg managing the
boat like a skilled seaman, amazed and confused him. He did not know what
to think. For, after all, a man who began by stealing fifty-five thousand
pounds might end by stealing a vessel; and Fix was not unnaturally inclined
to conclude that the Henrietta under Fogg's command, was not going to
Liverpool at all, but to some part of the world where the robber, turned
into a
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 281

pirate, would quietly put himself in safety. The conjecture was at least a
plausible one, and the detective began to seriously regret that he had
embarked on the affair.

     As for Captain Speedy, he continued to howl and growl in his cabin;
and Passepartout, whose duty it was to carry him his meals, courageous as
he was, took the greatest precautions. Mr. Fogg did not seem even to know
that there was a captain on board.

     On the 13th they passed the edge of the Banks of Newfoundland, a
dangerous locality; during the winter, especially, there are frequent fogs
and heavy gales of wind. Ever since the evening before the barometer,
suddenly falling, had indicated an approaching change in the atmosphere;
and during the night the temperature varied, the cold became sharper, and
the wind veered to the south-east.

     This was a misfortune. Mr. Fogg, in order not to deviate from his
course, furled his sails and increased the force of the steam; but the
vessel's speed slackened, owing to the state of the sea, the long waves of
which broke against the stern. She pitched violently, and this retarded her
progress. The breeze little by little swelled into a tempest, and it was to
be feared that the Henrietta might not be able to maintain herself upright
on the waves.

     Passepartout's visage darkened with the skies, and for two days the
poor fellow experienced constant fright. But
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 282

Phileas Fogg was a bold mariner, and knew how to maintain headway against
the sea; and he kept on his course, without even decreasing his steam. The
Henrietta, when she could not rise upon the waves, crossed them, swamping
her deck, but passing safely. Sometinies the screw rose out of the water,
beating its protruding end, when a mountain of water raised the stern above
the waves; but the craft always kept straight ahead.

     The wind, however, did not grow as boisterous as might have been
feared; it was not one of those tempests which burst, and rush on with a
speed of ninety miles an hour. It continued fresh, but, unhappily, it
remained obstinately in the south-east, rendering the sails useless.

     The 16th of December was the seventy-fifth day since Phileas Fogg's
departure from London, and the Henrietta had not yet been seriously
delayed. Half of the voyage was almost accomplished, and the worst
localities had been passed. In summer, success would have been well-nigh
certain. In winter, they were at the mercy of the bad season. Passepartout
said nothing; but he cherished hope in secret, and comforted himself with
the reflection that, if the wind failed them, they might still count on the
steam.

     On this day the engineer came on deck, went up to Mr. Fogg, and began
to speak earnestly with him. Without knowing why it was a presentiment,
perhaps Passepartout became vaguely uneasy. He would have given
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 283

one of his ears to hear with the other what the engineer was saying. He
finally managed to catch a few words, and was sure he heard his master say,
"You are certain of what you tell me?"

     "Certain, sir," replied the engineer. "You must remember that, since
we started, we have kept up hot fires in all our furnaces, and, though we
had coal enough to go on short steam from New York to Bordeaux, we haven't
enough to go with all steam from New York to Liverpool."

     "I will consider," replied Mr. Fogg.

     Passepartout understood it all; he was seized with mortal anxiety. The
coal was giving out! "Ah, if my master can get over that," muttered he,
"he'll be a famous man!" He could not help imparting to Fix what he had
overheard.

     "Then you believe that we really are going to Liverpool?"

     "Of course."

     "Ass!" replied the detective, shrugging his shoulders and turning on
his heel.

     Passepartout was on the point of vigorously resenting the epithet, the
reason of which he could not for the life of him comprehend; but he
reflected that the unfortunate Fix was probably very much disappointed and
humiliated in his self-esteem, after having so awkwardly followed a false
scent around the world, and refrained.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 284

     And now what course would Phileas Fogg adopt? It was difficult to
imagine. Nevertheless he seemed to have decided upon one, for that evening
he sent for the engineer, and said to him, "Feed all the fires until the
coal is exhausted."

     A few moments after, the funnel of the Henrietta vomited forth
torrents of smoke. The vessel continued to proceed with all steam on; but
on the 18th, the engineer, as he had predicted, announced that the coal
would give out in the course of the day.

     "Do not let the fires go down," replied Mr. Fogg. "Keep them up to the
last. Let the valves be filled."

     Towards noon Phileas Fogg, having ascertained their position, called
Passepartout, and ordered him to go for Captain Speedy. It was as if the
honest fellow had been commanded to unchain a tiger. He went to the poop,
saying to himself, "He will be like a madman!"

     In a few moments, with cries and oaths, a bomb appeared on the
poop-deck. The bomb was Captain Speedy. It was clear that he was on the
point of bursting. "Where are we?" were the first words his anger permitted
him to utter. Had the poor man be an apoplectic, he could never have
recovered from his paroxysm of wrath.

     "Where are we?" he repeated, with purple face.

     "Seven hundred and seven miles from Liverpool," replied Mr. Fogg, with
imperturbable calmness.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 285

     "Pirate!" cried Captain Speedy.

     "I have sent for you, sir -- mdash; "

     "Pickaroon!"

     " -- mdash; sir," continued Mr. Fogg, "to ask you to sell me your
vessel."

     "No! By all the devils, no!"

     "But I shall be obliged to burn her."

     "Burn the Henrietta!"

     "Yes; at least the upper part of her. The coal has given out."

     "Burn my vessel!" cried Captain Speedy, who could scarcely pronounce
the words. "A vessel worth fifty thousand dollars!"

     "Here are sixty thousand," replied Phileas Fogg, handing the captain a
roll of bank-bills. This had a prodigious effect on Andrew Speedy. An
American can scarcely remain unmoved at the sight of sixty thousand
dollars. The captain forgot in an instant his anger, his imprisonment, and
all his grudges against his passenger. The Henrietta was twenty years old;
it was a great bargain. The bomb would not go off after all. Mr. Fogg had
taken away the match.

     "And I shall still have the iron hull," said the captain in a softer
tone.

     "The iron hull and the engine. Is it agreed?"

     "Agreed."
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 286

     And Andrew Speedy, seizing the banknotes, counted them and consigned
them to his pocket.

     During this colloquy, Passepartout was as white as a sheet, and Fix
seemed on the point of having an apoplectic fit. Nearly twenty thousand
pounds had been expended, and Fogg left the hull and engine to the captain,
that is, near the whole value of the craft! It was true, however, that
fifty-five thousand pounds had been stolen from the Bank.

     When Andrew Speedy had pocketed the money, Mr. Fogg said to him,
"Don't let this astonish you, sir. You must know that I shall lose twenty
thousand pounds, unless I arrive in London by a quarter before nine on the
evening of the 21st of December. I missed the steamer at New York, and as
you refused to take me to Liverpool -- mdash; "

     "And I did well!" cried Andrew Speedy; "for I have gained at least
forty thousand dollars by it!" He added, more sedately, "Do you know one
thing, Captain -- mdash; "

     "Fogg."

     "Captain Fogg, you've got something of the Yankee about you."

     And, having paid his passenger what he considered a high compliment,
he was going away, when Mr. Fogg said, "The vessel now belongs to me?"

     "Certainly, from the keel to the truck of the masts -- mdash; all the
wood, that is."
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 287

     "Very well. Have the interior seats, bunks, and frames pulled down,
and burn them."

     It was necessary to have dry wood to keep the steam up to the adequate
pressure, and on that day the poop, cabins, bunks, and the spare deck were
sacrificed. On the next day, the 19th of December, the masts, rafts, and
spars were burned; the crew worked lustily, keeping up the fires.
Passepartout hewed, cut, and sawed away with all his might. There was a
perfect rage for demolition.

     The railings, fittings, the greater part of the deck, and top sides
disappeared on the 20th, and the Henrietta was now only a flat hulk. But on
this day they sighted the Irish coast and Fastnet Light. By ten in the
evening they were passing Queenstown. Phileas Fogg had only twenty-four
hours more in which to get to London; that length of time was necessary to
reach Liverpool, with all steam on. And the steam was about to give out
altogether!

     "Sir," said Captain Speedy, who was now deeply interested in Mr.
Fogg's project, "I really commiserate you. Everything is against you. We
are only opposite Queenstown."

     "Ah," said Mr. Fogg, "is that place where we see the lights
Queenstown?"

     "Yes."

     "Can we enter the harbour?"
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 288

     "Not under three hours. Only at high tide."

     "Stay," replied Mr. Fogg calmly, without betraying in his features
that by a supreme inspiration he was about to attempt once more to conquer
ill-fortune.

     Queenstown is the Irish port at which the trans-Atlantic steamers stop
to put off the mails. These mails are carried to Dublin by express trains
always held in readiness to start; from Dublin they are sent on to
Liverpool by the most rapid boats, and thus gain twelve hours on the
Atlantic steamers.

     Phileas Fogg counted on gaining twelve hours in the same way. Instead
of arriving at Liverpool the next evening by the Henrietta, he would be
there by noon, and would therefore have time to reach London before a
quarter before nine in the evening.

     The Henrietta entered Queenstown Harbour at one o'clock in the
morning, it then being high tide; and Phileas Fogg, after being grasped
heartily by the hand by Captain Speedy, left that gentleman on the levelled
hulk of his craft, which was still worth half what he had sold it for.

     The party went on shore at once. Fix was greatly tempted to arrest Mr.
Fogg on the spot; but he did not. Why? What struggle was going on within
him? Had he changed his mind about "his man"? Did he understand that he had
made a grave mistake? He did not,
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 289

however, abandon Mr. Fogg. They all got upon the train, which was just
ready to start, at half-past one; at dawn of day they were in Dublin; and
they lost no time in embarking on a steamer which, disdaining to rise upon
the waves, invariably cut through them.

     Phileas Fogg at last disembarked on the Liverpool quay, at twenty
minutes before twelve, 21st December. He was only six hours distant from
London.

     But at this moment Fix came up, put his hand upon Mr. Fogg's shoulder,
and, showing his warrant, said, "You are really Phileas Fogg?"

     "I am."

     "I arrest you in the Queen's name!"

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 290

                IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AT LAST REACHES LONDON

     Phileas Fogg was in prison. He had been shut up in the Custom House,
and he was to he transferred to London the next day.

     Passepartout, when he saw his master arrested, would have fallen upon
Fix had he not been held back by some policemen. Aouda was thunderstruck at
the suddenness of an event which she could not understand. Passepartout
explained to her how it was that the honest and courageous Fogg was
arrested as a robber. The young woman's heart revolted against so heinous a
charge, and when she saw that she could attempt to do nothing to save her
protector, she wept bitterly.

     As for Fix, he had arrested Mr. Fogg because it was his duty, whether
Mr. Fogg were guilty or not.

     The thought then struck Passepartout, that he was the cause of this
new misfortune! Had he not concealed Fix's
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Page 291

errand from his master? When Fix revealed his true character and purpose,
why had he not told Mr. Fogg? If the latter had been warned, he would no
doubt have given Fix proof of his innocence, and satisfied him of his
mistake; at least, Fix would not have continued his journey at the expense
and on the heels of his master, only to arrest him the moment he set foot
on English soil. Passepartout wept till he was blind, and felt like blowing
his brains out.

     Aouda and he had remained, despite the cold, under the portico of the
Custom House. Neither wished to leave the place; both were anxious to see
Mr. Fogg again.

     That gentleman was really ruined, and that at the moment when he was
about to attain his end. This arrest was fatal. Having arrived at Liverpool
at twenty minutes before twelve on the 21st of December, he had till a
quarter before nine that evening to reach the Reform Club, that is, nine
hours and a quarter; the journey from Liverpool to London was six hours.

     If anyone, at this moment, had entered the Custom House, he would have
found Mr. Fogg seated, motionless, calm, and without apparent anger, upon a
wooden bench. He was not, it is true, resigned; but this last blow failed
to force him into an outward betrayal of any emotion. Was he being devoured
by one of those secret rages, all the more terrible because contained, and
which only burst
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 292

forth, with an irresistible force, at the last moment? No one could tell.
There he sat, calmly waiting -- mdash; for what? Did he still cherish hope?
Did he still believe, now that the door of this prison was closed upon him,
that he would succeed?

     However that may have been, Mr. Fogg carefully put his watch upon the
table, and observed its advancing hands. Not a word escaped his lips, but
his look was singularly set and stern. The situation, in any event, was a
terrible one, and might be thus stated: if Phileas Fogg was honest he was
ruined; if he was a knave, he was caught.

     Did escape occur to him? Did he examine to see if there were any
practicable outlet from his prison? Did he think of escaping from it?
Possibly; for once he walked slowly around the room. But the door was
locked, and the window heavily barred with iron rods. He sat down again,
and drew his journal from his pocket. On the line where these words were
written, "21st December, Saturday, Liverpool," he added, "80th day, 11.40
a.m.," and waited.

     The Custom House clock struck one. Mr. Fogg observed that his watch
was two hours too fast.

     Two hours! Admitting that he was at this moment taking an express
train, he could reach London and the Reform Club by a quarter before nine,
p.m. His forehead slightly wrinkled.

     At thirty-three minutes past two he heard a singular
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 293

noise outside, then a hasty opening of doors. Passepartout's voice was
audible, and immediately after that of Fix. Phileas Fogg's eyes brightened
for an instant.

     The door swung open, and he saw Passepartout, Aouda, and Fix, who
hurried towards him.

     Fix was out of breath, and his hair was in disorder. He could not
speak. "Sir," he stammered, "sir -- mdash; forgive me -- mdash; most --
mdash; unfortunate resemblance -- mdash; robber arrested three days ago --
mdash; you are free!"

     Phileas Fogg was free! He walked to the detective, looked him steadily
in the face, and with the only rapid motion he had ever made in his life,
or which he ever would make, drew back his arms, and with the precision of
a machine knocked Fix down.

     "Well hit!" cried Passepartout, "Parbleu! that's what you might call a
good application of English fists!"

     Fix, who found himself on the floor, did not utter a word. He had only
received his deserts. Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout left the Custom
House without delay, got into a cab, and in a few moments descended at the
station.

     Phileas Fogg asked if there was an express train about to leave for
London. It was forty minutes past two. The express train had left
thirty-five minutes before.

     Phileas Fogg then ordered a special train.
  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 294

     There were several rapid locomotives on hand; but the railway
arrangements did not permit the special train to leave until three o'clock.

     At that hour Phileas Fogg, having stimulated the engineer by the offer
of a generous reward, at last set out towards London with Aouda and his
faithful servant.

     It was necessary to make the journey in five hours and a half; and
this would have been easy on a clear road throughout. But there were forced
delays, and when Mr. Fogg stepped from the train at the terminus, all the
clocks in London were striking ten minutes before nine."

     Having made the tour of the world, he was behind-hand five minutes. He
had lost the wager!

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Page 295

  IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG DOES NOT HAVE TO REPEAT HIS ORDERS TO PASSEPARTOUT
                                   TWICE

     The dwellers in Saville Row would have been surprised the next day, if
they had been told that Phileas Fogg had returned home. His doors and
windows were still closed, no appearance of change was visible.

     After leaving the station, Mr. Fogg gave Passepartout instructions to
purchase some provisions, and quietly went to his domicile.

     He bore his misfortune with his habitual tranquillity. Ruined! And by
the blundering of the detective! After having steadily traversed that long
journey, overcome a hundred obstacles, braved many dangers, and still found
time to do some good on his way, to fail near the goal by a sudden event
which he could not have foreseen, and against which he was unarmed; it was
terrible! But a few pounds were left of the large sum he had carried
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with him. There only remained of his fortune the twenty thousand pounds
deposited at Barings, and this amount he owed to his friends of the Reform
Club. So great had been the expense of his tour that, even had he won, it
would not have enriched him; and it is probable that he had not sought to
enrich himself, being a man who rather laid wagers for honour's sake than
for the stake proposed. But this wager totally ruined him.

     Mr. Fogg's course, however, was fully decided upon; he knew what
remained for him to do.

     A room in the house in Saville Row was set apart for Aouda, who was
overwhelmed with grief at her protector's misfortune. From the words which
Mr. Fogg dropped, she saw that he was meditating some serious project.

     Knowing that Englishmen governed by a fixed idea sometimes resort to
the desperate expedient of suicide, Passepartout kept a narrow watch upon
his master, though he carefully concealed the appearance of so doing.

     First of all, the worthy fellow had gone up to his room, and had
extinguished the gas burner, which had been burning for eighty days. He had
found in the letter-box a bill from the gas company, and he thought it more
than time to put a stop to this expense, which he had been doomed to bear.

     The night passed. Mr. Fogg went to bed, but did he
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sleep? Aouda did not once close her eyes. Passepartout watched all night,
like a faithful dog, at his master's door.

     Mr. Fogg called him in the morning, and told him to get Aouda's
breakfast, and a cup of tea and a chop for himself. He desired Aouda to
excuse him from breakfast and dinner, as his time would be absorbed all day
in putting his affairs to rights. In the evening he would ask permission to
have a few moment's conversation with the young lady.

     Passepartout, having received his orders, had nothing
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to do but obey them. He looked at his imperturbable master, and could
scarcely bring his mind to leave him. His heart was full, and his
conscience tortured by remorse; for he accused himself more bitterly than
ever of being the cause of the irretrievable disaster. Yes! if he had
warned Mr. Fogg, and had betrayed Fix's projects to him, his master would
certainly not have given the detective passage to Liverpool, and then --
mdash;

     Passepartout could hold in no longer.

     "My master! Mr. Fogg!" he cried, "why do you not curse me? It was my
fault that -- mdash; "

     "I blame no one," returned Phileas Fogg, with perfect calmness. "Go!"

     Passepartout left the room, and went to find Aouda, to whom he
delivered his master's message.

     "Madam," he added, "I can do nothing myself -- mdash; nothing! I have
no influence over my master; but you, perhaps -- mdash; "

     "What influence could I have?" replied Aouda. "Mr. Fogg is influenced
by no one. Has he ever understood that my gratitude to him is overflowing?
Has he ever read my heart? My friend, he must not be left alone an instant!
You say he is going to speak with me this evening?"

     "Yes, madam; probably to arrange for your protection and comfort in
England."
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     "We shall see," replied Aouda, becoming suddenly pensive.

     Throughout this day (Sunday) the house in Saville Row was as if
uninhabited, and Phileas Fogg, for the first time since he had lived in
that house, did not set out for his club when Westminster clock struck
half-past eleven.

     Why should he present himself at the Reform? His friends no longer
expected him there. As Phileas Fogg had not appeared in the saloon on the
evening before (Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine),
he had lost his wager. It was not even necessary that he should go to his
bankers for the twenty thousand pounds; for his antagonists already had his
cheque in their hands, and they had only to fill it out and send it to the
Barings to have the amount transferred to their credit.

     Mr. Fogg, therefore, had no reason for going out, and so he remained
at home. He shut himself up in his room, and busied himself putting his
affairs in order. Passepartout continually ascended and descended the
stairs. The hours were long for him. He listened at his master's door, and
looked through the keyhole, as if he had a perfect right so to do, and as
if he feared that something terrible might happen at any moment. Sometimes
he thought of Fix, but no longer in anger. Fix, like all the world, had
been mistaken in Phileas Fogg, and had only done his
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duty in tracking and arresting him; while he, Passepartout -- mdash; This
thought haunted him, and he never ceased cursing his miserable folly.

     Finding himself too wretched to remain alone, he knocked at Aouda's
door, went into her room, seated himself, without speaking, in a corner,
and looked ruefully at the young woman. Aouda was still pensive.

     About half-past seven in the evening Mr. Fogg sent to know if Aouda
would receive him, and in a few moments he found himself alone with her.

     Phileas Fogg took a chair, and sat down near the fireplace, opposite
Aouda. No emotion was visible on his face. Fogg returned was exactly the
Fogg who had gone away; there was the same calm, the same impassibility.

     He sat several minutes without speaking; then, bending his eyes on
Aouda, "Madam," said he, "will you pardon me for bringing you to England?"

     "I, Mr. Fogg!" replied Aouda, checking the pulsations of her heart.

     "Please let me finish," returned Mr. Fogg. "When I decided to bring
you far away from the country which was so unsafe for you, I was rich, and
counted on putting a portion of my fortune at your disposal; then your
existence would have been free and happy. But now I am ruined."
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Page 301

     "I know it, Mr. Fogg," replied Aouda; "and I ask you in my turn, will
you forgive me for having followed you, and -- mdash; who knows? -- mdash;
for having, perhaps, delayed you, and thus contributed to your ruin?"

     "Madam, you could not remain in India, and your safety could only be
assured by bringing you to such a distance that your persecutors could not
take you."

     "So, Mr. Fogg," resumed Aouda, "not content with rescuing me from a
terrible death, you thought yourself bound to secure my comfort in a
foreign land?"

     "Yes, madam; but circumstances have been against me. Still, I beg to
place the little I have left at your service."

     "But what will become of you, Mr. Fogg?"

     "As for me, madam," replied the gentleman, coldly, "I have need of
nothing."

     "But how do you look upon the fate, sir, which awaits you?"

     "As I am in the habit of doing."

     "At least," said Aouda, "want should not overtake a man like you. Your
friends -- mdash; "

     "I have no friends, madam."

     "Your relatives -- mdash; "

     "I have no longer any relatives."

     "I pity you, then, Mr. Fogg, for solitude is a sad thing, with no
heart to which to confide your griefs. They say,
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Page 302

though, that misery itself, shared by two sympathetic souls, may be borne
with patience."

     "They say so, madam."

     "Mr. Fogg," said Aouda, rising and seizing his hand, "do you wish at
once a kinswoman and friend? Will you have me for your wife?"

     Mr. Fogg, at this, rose in his turn. There was an unwonted light in
his eyes, and a slight trembling of his lips. Aouda looked into his face.
The sincerity, rectitude, firmness, and sweetness of this soft glance of a
noble woman, who could dare all to save him to whom she owed all, at first
astonished, then penetrated him. He shut his eyes for an instant, as if to
avoid her look. When he opened them again, "I love you!" he said, simply.
"Yes, by all that is holiest, I love you, and I am entirely yours!"

     "Ah!" cried Aouda, pressing his hand to her heart.

     Passepartout was summoned and appeared immediately. Mr. Fogg still
held Aouda's hand in his own; Passepartout understood, and his big, round
face became as radiant as the tropical sun at its zenith.

     Mr. Fogg asked him if it was not too late to notify the Reverend
Samuel Wilson, of Marylebone parish, that evening.

     Passepartout smiled his most genial smile, and said, "Never too late."

     It was five minutes past eight.
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Page 303

     "Will it be for to-morrow, Monday?"

     "For to-morrow, Monday," said Mr. Fogg, turning to Aouda.

     "Yes; for to-morrow, Monday," she replied.

     Passepartout hurried off as fast as his legs could carry him.

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Page 304

     IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG'S NAME IS ONCE MORE AT A PREMIUM ON 'CHANGE

     It is time to relate what a change took place in English public
opinion when it transpired that the real bankrobber, a certain James
Strand, had been arrested, on the 17th day of December, at Edinburgh. Three
days before, Phileas Fogg had been a criminal, who was being desperately
followed up by the police; now he was an honourable gentleman,
mathematically pursuing his eccentric journey round the world.

     The papers resumed their discussion about the wager; all those who had
laid bets, for or against him, revived their interest, as if by magic; the
"Phileas Fogg bonds" again became negotiable, and many new wagers were
made. Phileas Fogg's name was once more at a premium on 'Change.

     His five friends of the Reform Club passed these three
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Page 305

days in a state of feverish suspense. Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had
forgotten, reappear before their eyes! Where was he at this moment? The
17th of December, the day of James Strand's arrest, was the seventy-sixth
since Phileas Fogg's departure, and no news of him had been received. Was
he dead? Had he abandoned the effort, or was he continuing his journey
along the route agreed upon? And would he appear on Saturday, the 21st of
December, at a quarter before nine in the evening, on the threshold of the
Reform Club saloon?

     The anxiety in which, for three days, London society existed, cannot
be described. Telegrams were sent to America and Asia for news of Phileas
Fogg. Messengers were dispatched to the house in Saville Row morning and
evening. No news. The police were ignorant what had become of the
detective, Fix, who had so unfortunately followed up a false scent. Bets
increased, nevertheless, in number and value. Phileas Fogg, like a
racehorse, was drawing near his last turning-point. The bonds were quoted,
no longer at a hundred below par, but at twenty, at ten, and at five; and
paralytic old Lord Albemarle bet even in his favour.

     A great crowd was collected in Pall Mall and the neighbouring streets
on Saturday evening; it seemed like a multitude of brokers permanently
established around the Reform Club. Circulation was impeded, and everywhere
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Page 306

disputes, discussions, and financial transactions were going on. The police
had great difficulty in keeping back the crowd, and as the hour when
Phileas Fogg was due approached, the excitement rose to its highest pitch.

     The five antagonists of Phileas Fogg had met in the great saloon of
the club. John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, the bankers, Andrew Stuart,
the engineer, Gauthier Ralph, the director of the Bank of England, and
Thomas Flanagan, the brewer, one and all waited anxiously.

     When the clock indicated twenty minutes past eight, Andrew Stuart got
up, saying, "Gentlemen, in twenty minutes the time agreed upon between Mr.
Fogg and ourselves will have expired."

     "What time did the last train arrive from Liverpool?" asked Thomas
Flanagan.

     "At twenty-three minutes past seven," replied Gauthier Ralph; "and the
next does not arrive till ten minutes after twelve."

     "Well, gentlemen," resumed Andrew Stuart, "if Phileas Fogg had come in
the 7.23 train, he would have got here by this time. We can, therefore,
regard the bet as won."

     "Wait; don't let us be too hasty," replied Samuel Fallentin. "You know
that Mr. Fogg is very eccentric. His punctuality is well known; he never
arrives too soon,
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Page 307

or too late; and I should not be surprised if he appeared before us at the
last minute."

     "Why," said Andrew Stuart nervously, "if I should see him, I should
not believe it was he."

     "The fact is," resumed Thomas Flanagan, "Mr. Fogg's project was
absurdly foolish. Whatever his punctuality, he could not prevent the delays
which were certain to occur; and a delay of only two or three days would be
fatal to his tour."

     "Observe, too," added John Sullivan, "that we have received no
intelligence from him, though there are telegraphic lines all along his
route."

     "He has lost, gentleman," said Andrew Stuart, "he has a hundred times
lost! You know, besides, that the China the only steamer he could have
taken from New York to get here in time arrived yesterday. I have seen a
list of the passengers, and the name of Phileas Fogg is not among them.
Even if we admit that fortune has favoured him, he can scarcely have
reached America. I think he will be at least twenty days behind-hand, and
that Lord Albemarle will lose a cool five thousand."

     "It is clear," replied Gauthier Ralph; "and we have nothing to do but
to present Mr. Fogg's cheque at Barings to-morrow."

     At this moment, the hands of the club clock pointed to twenty minutes
to nine.
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Page 308

     "Five minutes more," said Andrew Stuart.

     The five gentlemen looked at each other. Their anxiety was becoming
intense; but, not wishing to betray it, they readily assented to Mr.
Fallentin's proposal of a rubber.

     "I wouldn't give up my four thousand of the bet," said Andrew Stuart,
as he took his seat, "for three thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine."

     The clock indicated eighteen minutes to nine.

     The players took up their cards, but could not keep their eyes off the
clock. Certainly, however secure they felt, minutes had never seemed so
long to them!

     "Seventeen minutes to nine," said Thomas Flanagan, as he cut the cards
which Ralph handed to him.

     Then there was a moment of silence. The great saloon was perfectly
quiet; but the murmurs of the crowd outside were heard, with now and then a
shrill cry. The pendulum beat the seconds, which each player eagerly
counted, as he listened, with mathematical regularity.

     "Sixteen minutes to nine!" said John Sullivan, in a voice which
betrayed his emotion.

     One minute more, and the wager would be won. Andrew Stuart and his
partners suspended their game. They left their cards, and counted the
seconds.

     At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth, still nothing.
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     At the fifty-fifth, a loud cry was heard in the street, followed by
applause, hurrahs, and some fierce growls.

     The players rose from their seats.

     At the fifty-seventh second the door of the saloon opened; and the
pendulum had not beat the sixtieth second when Phileas Fogg appeared,
followed by an excited crowd who had forced their way through the club
doors, and in his calm voice, said, "Here I am, gentlemen!"

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Page 310

  IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT PHILEAS FOGG GAINED NOTHING BY HIS TOUR AROUND
                    THE WORLD, UNLESS IT WERE HAPPINESS

     Yes; Phileas Fogg in person.

     The reader will remember that at five minutes past eight in the
evening -- mdash; about five and twenty hours after the arrival of the
travellers in London -- mdash; Passepartout had been sent by his master to
engage the services of the Reverend Samuel Wilson in a certain marriage
ceremony, which was to take place the next day.

     Passepartout went on his errand enchanted. He soon reached the
clergyman's house, but found him not at home. Passepartout waited a good
twenty minutes, and when he left the reverend gentleman, it was thirty-five
minutes past eight. But in what a state he was! With his hair in disorder,
and without his hat, he ran along the street as never man was seen to run
before, overturning passers-by, rushing over the sidewalk like a
waterspout.
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Page 311

     In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and staggered back into
Mr. Fogg's room.

     He could not speak.

     "What is the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.

     "My master!" gasped Passepartout -- mdash; "marriage -- mdash;
impossible -- mdash; "

     "Impossible?"

     "Impossible -- mdash; for to-morrow."

     "Why so?"

     "Because to-morrow -- mdash; is Sunday!"

     "Monday," replied Mr. Fogg.

     "No -- mdash; to-day is Saturday."

     "Saturday? Impossible!"

     "Yes, yes, yes, yes!" cried Passepartout. "You have made a mistake of
one day! We arrived twenty-four hours ahead of time; but there are only ten
minutes left!"

     Passepartout had seized his master by the collar, and was dragging him
along with irresistible force.

     Phileas Fogg, thus kidnapped, without having time to think, left his
house, jumped into a cab, promised a hundred pounds to the cabman, and,
having run over two dogs and overturned five carriages, reached the Reform
Club.

     The clock indicated a quarter before nine when he appeared in the
great saloon.
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     Phileas Fogg had accomplished the journey round the world in eighty
days!

     Phileas Fogg had won his wager of twenty thousand pounds!

     How was it that a man so exact and fastidious could have made this
error of a day? How came he to think that he had arrived in London on
Saturday, the twenty-first day of December, when it was really Friday, the
twentieth, the seventy-ninth day only from his departure?

     The cause of the error is very simple.

     Phileas Fogg had, without suspecting it, gained one day on his
journey, and this merely because he had travelled constantly eastward; he
would, on the contrary, have lost a day had he gone in the opposite
direction, that is, westward.

     In journeying eastward he had gone towards the sun, and the days
therefore diminished for him as many times four minutes as he crossed
degrees in this direction. There are three hundred and sixty degrees on the
circumference of the earth; and these three hundred and sixty degrees,
multiplied by four minutes, gives precisely twenty-four hours -- mdash;
that is, the day unconsciously gained. In other words, while Phileas Fogg,
going eastward, saw the sun pass the meridian eighty times, his friends in
London only saw it pass the meridian seventy-nine times. This is why they
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Page 313

awaited him at the Reform Club on Saturday, and not Sunday, as Mr. Fogg
thought.

     And Passepartout's famous family watch, which had always kept London
time, would have betrayed this fact, if it had marked the days as well as
the hours and the minutes!

     Phileas Fogg, then, had won the twenty thousand pounds; but, as he had
spent nearly nineteen thousand on the way, the pecuniary gain was small.
His object was, however, to be victorious, and not to win money. He divided
the one thousand pounds that remained between Passepartout and the
unfortunate Fix, against whom he cherished no grudge. He deducted, however,
from Passepartout's share the cost of the gas which had burned in his room
for nineteen hundred and twenty hours, for the sake of regularity.

     That evening, Mr. Fogg, as tranquil and phlegmatic as ever, said to
Aouda: "Is our marriage still agreeable to you?"

     "Mr. Fogg," replied she, "it is for me to ask that question. You were
ruined, but now you are rich again."

     "Pardon me, madam; my fortune belongs to you. If you had not suggested
our marriage, my servant would not have gone to the Reverend Samuel
Wilson's, I should not have been apprised of my error, and -- mdash; "

     "Dear Mr. Fogg!" said the young woman.
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     "Dear Aouda!" replied Phileas Fogg.

     It need not be said that the marriage took place forty-eight hours
after, and that Passepartout, glowing and dazzling, gave the bride away.
Had he not saved her, and was he not entitled to this honour?

     The next day, as soon as it was light, Passepartout rapped vigorously
at his master's door. Mr. Fogg opened it, and asked, "What's the matter,
Passepartout?"

     "What is it, sir? Why, I've just this instant found out -- mdash; "

     "What?"

     "That we might have made the tour of the world in only seventy-eight
days."

     "No doubt," returned Mr. Fogg, "by not crossing India. But if I had
not crossed India, I should not have saved Aouda; she would not have been
my wife, and -- mdash; "

     Mr. Fogg quietly shut the door.

     Phileas Fogg had won his wager, and had made his journey around the
world in eighty days. To do this he had employed every means of conveyance
-- mdash; steamers, railways, carriages, yachts, trading-vessels, sledges,
elephants. The eccentric gentleman had throughout displayed all his
marvellous qualities of coolness and exactitude. But what then? What had he
really gained by all this trouble? What had he brought back from this long
and weary journey?
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Page 315

     Nothing, say you? Perhaps so; nothing but a charming woman, who,
strange as it may appear, made him the happiest of men!

     Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the
world?

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