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            1. Phileas Fogg and Passepartout accept each other:
                     the one as master, the other as man

    Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7,  Saville  Row,  Burlington
Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1816. 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 as a polished man 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  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   Artisans
'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
    He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an  open  credit.
His checks were regularly paid at sight from his  account  current,  which
was always flush.
    Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who 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  quickly,  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  honored  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  reading  the
papers and playing whist. He often won at this game, which,  as  a  silent
one, harmonized 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 favored 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 lonic  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 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 the finest linen; club  decanters,  of  a
lost mold, 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 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
    Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his  arm-chair,  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  Mr.  Fogg
would, according to his daily habit, quit Saville Row, and repair  to  the
    A rap at this moment sounded on the door of the cosy apartment  where
Phileas Fogg  was  seated,  and  James  Forster,  the  dismissed  servant,
    "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   new-comer,   "Jean
Passepartout, a surname which has clung to me because  I  have  a  natural
aptness for going out at 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  hope  of  living  with  him  a
tranquil life, and forgetting even the name of Passepartout."
    "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
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, October 2nd, 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

       2. 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  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 agitated. He was the most deliberate  person  in  the  world,  yet
always reached his 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 Moliere, 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 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
    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 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 began 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 recognized 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 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 masters 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 idealized. 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 scrutinized 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."

              3. 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  coloring,  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  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  reappeared  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
respected 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 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,
    "What! a fellow who makes off with  fifty-five  thousand  pounds,  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
newspaper, 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
bank notes, 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, bank notes are freely exposed, at the  mercy  of  the  first
comer. A keen observer of English customs relates that, being  in  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, scrutinized  it,
passed it to his neighbor, 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 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 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 are in favor of  the  thief  who
must be a shrewd fellow."
    "Well, but where can he fly to?" asked Ralph. "No country is safe for
    "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
    "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
    "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

      From London to Suez
         via Mont Cenis and Brindisi, by rails and steamboats - 7 days
        Suez to Bombay, by steamer                             13
        Bombay to Calcutta, by rail                             3
        Calcutta to Hong Kong, by steamer                      13
        Hong Kong to Yokohama (Japan), by steamer               6
        Yokohama to San Francisco, by steamer                  22
        San Francisco to New York, by rail                      7
        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
    "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."
    "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?"
    "I should like nothing better."
    "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  it
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, he continued,
"I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring's which  I  will  willingly
risk upon it."
    "Twenty thousand pounds, which you would lose by a single  accidental
    "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 any one 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."
    "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  second  of
October, I shall be due in London, in this very room of the  Reform  Club,
on Saturday, the twenty-first 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  check  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."

             4. 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.
    "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
    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 astonishment.
    "Round the world!" he murmured.
    "In eighty days," responded Mr. Fogg. "So  we  haven't  a  moment  to
    "But the trunks?" gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head
from right to left.
    "We'll have no trunks; only a carpetbag, 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  travelling-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: "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! 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 hitherto  so  domestic
    By eight  o'clock  Passepartout  had  packed  the  modest  carpetbag,
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.
    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 carpetbag, opened it,  and  slipped  into  it  a
goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass wherever  he  might
    "You have forgotten nothing?" asked he.
    "Nothing, monsieur."
    "My mackintosh and cloak?"
    "Here they are."
    "Good. Take this carpetbag," 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 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
    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 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 honor."
    "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
carpetbag, 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.
    "Alas! In my hurry -I-I forgot -"
    "To turn off the gas in my room!"
    "Very well, young man," returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; "it  will  burn...
at your expense."

           5. 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 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
    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 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 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
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 Albermarle, 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  that  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  despatch  was  put  into  his
hands: -

                                            SUEZ TO LONDON.
               SCOTLAND YARD.
                                            FIX, DETECTIVE.

    The effect of this despatch 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 of 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 no other end in view than to elude the detectives,  and
throw them off his track.

         6. Fix, the detective, betrays a very natural impatience

    The circumstances under which this telegraphic despatch about Phileas
Fogg was sent were as follows:-
    The  steamer  Mongolia,  belonging  to  the  Peninsula  and  Oriental
Company, built of iron, of two thousand eight  hundred  tons  burden,  and
five hundred horsepower, 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 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 unfavorable 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  despatched  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?"
    "No, Mr. Fix," replied the consul. "She  was  bespoken  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 recognize your man, even if he is on board the Mongolia."
    "A man rather feels the  presence  of  these  fellows,  consul,  then
recognizes 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 robbers  always
resemble honest folks. Fellows who  have  rascally  faces  have  only  one
course to take, and that is to be 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
long, 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,
scrutinized 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  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 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
    "Oh, is that necessary?"
    "Quite indispensable."
    "And where is the consulate?"
    "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 I and returned to the steamer.

           7. 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
    "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 come."
    "To have his passport visaed?"
    "Yes. Passports are only good for annoying honest  folks  and  aiding
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 lookout. 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 favor  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
    "I am."
    "And this man is your servant?"
    "He is; a Frenchman, named Passepartout."
    "You are from London?"
    "And you are going-"
    "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
    "Possibly; but that is not the question. Do you think,  consul,  that
this phlegmatic 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  boat,
in descended to his cabin. He took up his notebook,  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 1/2, 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  of
each locality.  This  methodical  record  thus  contained  an  account  of
everything needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was  behindhand  or
in advance of his time. On this  Wednesday,  October  9th,  he  noted  his
arrival at Suez, and observed that he had as yet neither gained nor  lost.
He sat down 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.

        8. 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
    "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?"
    "In Egypt?"
    "Certainly, in Egypt."
    "And in Africa?"
    "In Africa."
    "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
Pere la Chaise and the circus in the Champs Elysees!"
    "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 carpetbag."
    "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 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,
    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 bank notes
with him. And he doesn't spare the  money  on  the  way,  either:  he  has
offered a large reward to the 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?"
    "In Asia?"
    "The deuce! I was going to tell you, -there's one thing that  worries
me, -my burner!"
    "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 sixpence  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 continents off his
    "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."
    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 despatch to London for a warrant of arrest to  be  despatched
instantly to 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,  hence  he
sent the despatch 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 notable
steamer rode out at full steam upon the waters of the Red Sea.

            9. 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 has assumed the powers of the East India  Company;  for
the sub-lieutenants get L280, brigadiers, L2400, and generals of division,
L4000. 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  whiled
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  fearful  ly.  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  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 recognize 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 seasickness, 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
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 recognize you.  You  are  the  servant  of  the  strange
    "Just so, Monsieur-"
    "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 Peninsula Company."
    "Then you know India?"
    "Why -yes," replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.
    "A curious place, this India?"
    "Oh, very very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs,  pagodas,
tigers, snakes, elephants! I hope you will have  ample  time  to  see  the
    "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 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 barroom,  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
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, northwest of  Aden  Harbor,  to
take in coal. This matter of fuelling steamers is a serious  one  at  such
distances from the coal mines; it costs the Peninsula 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
Somalis, Banyai, Parsees, Jews, Arabs,  and  Europeans  who  comprise  the
twenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden. He gazed with  wonder  upon  the
fortifications which make this 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 favorable, the wind being in the northwest, and all  sails  aiding
the engine. The steamer rolled but little, the ladies, in  fresh  toilets,
reappeared on deck, and the singing and  dancing  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, by a bold stroke, captured
all thirteen of the tricks, concluded this fine campaign with a  brilliant
    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

               10. 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. 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  unwieldy
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 northeast 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 southeastward 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 an 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 Malebar Hill with its  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 southeast 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, 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 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, Sindis 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, civilized, intelligent, and austere of the  East  Indians,  among
whom are counted 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-colored 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
Malebar 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 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
    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.

                 11. 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,
Phileas Fogg, who was not travelling, but only describing a circumference,
took no pains to inquire  into  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 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
common sense. 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  the  branch  line   which   descends   towards
southeastern 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 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
    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  realize  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 (a 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 Malligaum,  the  fatal  country  so
often stained with blood by the sectaries 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  honor  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  incase  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 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 recognized  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 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 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  same
remark that he had done to Fix; and upon 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?"
    "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," returned 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
    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 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 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."
    "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 within some  high
pailings, 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. At each advance Passepartout jumped; but the Indian
declined to be tempted. Yet the offer was an alluring one, for,  supposing
it took the elephant fifteen 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 heaven!" 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. The elephant was led out and equipped. The Parsee,  who  was  an
accomplished elephant driver, covered his back with a sort of saddlecloth,
and attached to his flanks a pair of curiously uncomfortable howdahs.
    Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with some bank notes which he  extracted
from the famous carpetbag,  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 saddlecloth 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.

             12. 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 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  springboard;
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 neighboring
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   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, 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
and 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
    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  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 I he warmth was very grateful. The 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
from 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 noon they passed by the village of Kallenger, on the
Cani, one of the branches of  the  Ganges.  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 northeast.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."
    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
    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 colored 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, recognizing the statue, whispered,  "The  goddess  Kali;
the goddess of love and death."
    "Of death, perhaps," murmured 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 around  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,  long
damasceened 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.
    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 tomorrow at the
dawn of day."
    "Oh, the scoundrels!" cried Passepartout, who could not  repress  his
    "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.  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 tomorrow at dawn
is not a voluntary one."
    "How do you know?"
    "Everybody knows about this affair in Bundelcund."
    "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
    "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-"
    "Tomorrow, 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."

             13. 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.
    "Officer," replied the guide, "I am a Parsee, and  this  woman  is  a
Parsee. Command me as you will."
    "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.
    Then they 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
reconnoissance 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.
    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 in 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
indistinctly. 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
    "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 the guards  watched  steadily  by
the glare of the torches, and a dim light crept through the windows of the
    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 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  wall  about
half-past twelve, without having met any one; 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
    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, 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-"
    "The chance which now seems lost  may  present  itself  at  the  last
    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 revolving 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
    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 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
of intoxication to  be  striving  to  escape  from  her  executioner.  Sir
Francis' 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
    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  semiobscurity  they  saw  the  victim,  quite  senseless,
stretched out beside her husband's body. Then a torch was brought, and the
wood, 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.
    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 in  the  midst  of  smoke,  which  only  heightened  his  ghostly
    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
    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 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.

        14. 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  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  country,
and would, despite the English police, recover  their  victim  at  Madras,
Bombay, or Calcutta. She would only be safe by quitting India forever.
    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 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  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 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  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.
    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 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 honor is giving me a fortune!" cried he.
    "Take him, guide," returned Mr. Fogg, "and  I  shall  still  be  your
    "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,  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 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 ancient  Casi,  which,  like
Mahomet's tomb, was once suspended between heaven and  earth;  though  the
Benares of today, 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 him 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
    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 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 divinities  think  of  India,
anglicized as it is today, 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 southwestward from Benares, the
ancient stronghold of the rajahs of Behar;  or  Ghazipur  and  its  famous
rosewater 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 foundries,  edge  tool  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 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 behindhand 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

            15. The bag of bank notes disgorges some thousands
                               of pounds more

    The train entered the station, and Passepartout, jumping  out  first,
was followed by Mr. Fog, who  assisted  his  fair  companion  to  descend.
Phileas Fogg intended to proceed at once to  the  Hong  Kong  steamer,  in
order 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
    "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   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 "palki-gari," 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 cocoanut  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
    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 courtroom, 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, followed by the clerk, entered. He proceeded to
take down a wig which was hanging on a nail, and put it hurriedly  on  his
    "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 round with terrible rapidity.
    "The first case," repeated Judge Obadiah.
    "Phileas Fogg?" demanded Oysterpuff.
    "I am here," replied Mr. Fogg.
    "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
    "Have you been ill-treated?"
    "Not at all."
    "Very well; let the complainants come in."
    A door was swung open by order of the judge, and three Indian priests
    "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?"
    "Bombay?" cried Passepartout.
    "Certainly. We are not talking of the pagoda of Pillaji, but  of  the
pagoda of Malebar 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  Malebar  Hill.  Knowing  that   the   English
authorities dealt very severely with this kind of misdemeanor, 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  despatch  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 twenty-four hours 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  courtroom,  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  Malebar
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.
    "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  judgment  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 carpetbag, 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."
    "Come!" said Phileas Fogg to his servant.
    "But let them at least give me back my  shoes!"  cried  Passepartout,
    "Ah, these are pretty 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
    The Rangoon was moored half a mile off in the harbor, its  signal  of
departure hoisted at the masthead. 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 in 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, 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.

             16. 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 horsepower. 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, 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 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  favorable
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 give access to the  China
    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 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   awaking
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 centered 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 forever. 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 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 impressed itself upon his mind that he determined to make
use of the supposed intrigue. Whether the young woman was 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, recognizing his crony of the  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
    "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 latter was charmed to find so interested a listener.
    "But does your master propose to carry this young woman to Europe?"
    "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."

        17. 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 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 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  honorable  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 mysterious allusions, which, however,  need  not  betray  his
real suspicions.
    During the afternoon of Wednesday, October 30th, 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
with gorgeous branches, varied the aspect of this  tropical  clime;  while
nutmeg trees in full foliage filled the air with  a  penetrating  perfume.
Agile 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 to 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 color outside and a  bright
red within, and whose white pulp, melting in the mouth, affords  gourmands
a delicious sensation -was was waiting for them on deck. He was  only  too
glad to offer some mangoes to Aouda, who thanked him very  gracefully  for
    At eleven o'clock the Rangoon rode out of Singapore  harbor,  and  in
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 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  southwest,  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 unfavorable 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?"
    "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
    "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."
    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 should fail;  or  else  the  servant
knew nothing of the robbery, and then his interest would be to abandon the
    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 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
    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.
    "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!"

              18. 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 northwest, 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, 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
day 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 seasick-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
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  favorable.
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 behindhand, and the Yokohama steamer would of course  be
    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
    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 tomorrow 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 tomorrow."
    "Thank you," returned Mr.  Fogg,  descending  mathematically  to  the
    Passepartout clasped the polot's hand and shook it  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 harbor of Hong Kong. At one o'clock the Rangoon was at the quay,
and the passengers were going ashore.
    Chance had strangely favored 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 twenty-two days across the Pacific.  He  found  himself,  then,
about twenty-four hours behindhand, 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 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
Jejeeh. 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,  everyone
would know so wealthy and considerable a personage as the Parsee merchant.
Meeting a broker, he made the inquiry, to learn that Jejeeh 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 Jejeeh 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."
    "But I cannot intrude-"
    "You do not intrude, nor do you in the least  embarrass  my  project.
    "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.

                19. 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 Nanking, after the war of 1842; and the colonizing 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 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, macadamized 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,  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  color.
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 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  on
with us as 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
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  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
tomorrow; 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-"
    "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 honor, but they  must  try  to  put
obstacles in his way! I blush for them!"
    "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 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, 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 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 secured. Here is this 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 honorable 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  bank  notes.  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-"
    "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. "Mr. Fogg  will
not be informed of the time 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.

               20. 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
carpetbag; 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'hote; after which 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 bed  time.  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  carpetbag,  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 harbor. 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 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 honor-"
    "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 a week! There would be time  for  the  warrant  to  arrive,  and
fortune at last favored the representative of the law. His horror  may  be
imagined when he heard Mr. Fogg say, in his placid voice, "But  there  are
other vessels besides the Carnatic, it seems to me, in the harbor of  Hong
    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 honor looking for a boat?"
    "Have you a boat ready to sail?"
    "Yes, your honor; a pilot boat -No. 43 -the best in the harbor."
    "Does she go fast?"
    "Between eight and nine knots the hour. Will you look at her?"
    "Your honor will be satisfied with her. Is it for a sea excursion?"
    "No; for voyage."
    "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 honor 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 honor," 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 sixy miles from Hong Kong."
    "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
    "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?"
    "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 southwest wind, and the sea was calm,  we  could  make  those  eight
hundred miles to Shanghai."
    "And you could go-"
    "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 honor out-"
    "Here are two hundred pounds on account. Sir,"  added  Phileas  Fogg,
turning to Fix, "if you would like to take advantage-"
    "Thanks, sir; I was about to ask the favor."
    "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 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  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
galvanized 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  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
    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  center  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.
    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
    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.

              21. 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 we
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 sea gull; and perhaps he was not wrong.
    Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels  of  Hong
Kong, and the Tankadere, impelled by favorable  winds,  conducted  herself
    "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 honor. 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
    "It's 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 talk to the man whose favors 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 insure 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 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
    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 November 8th, 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 favor. During  the  day  she  kept  along  the
coast, where the currents were favorable; the coast, irregular in profile,
and visible sometimes the clearings, was at most five miles  distant.  The
sea was less boisterous,  since  the  wind  came  off  land  -a  fortunate
circumstance for the boat, which 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
southwest. 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,"
-this "sir" scorched his lips, and he had  to  control  himself  to  avoid
collaring this "gentleman," -"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-"
    "Let us not speak of that, sir," replied Mr. Fogg.
    "But, if I insist-"
    "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, off did not open his mouth for the rest of the day.
    Meanwhile they were progressing famously, and John 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  the  Royal  Yacht
    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 only misadventure 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,
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 capriciously; the sea also, in  the  southeast,  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
    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 honor?"
    "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.
    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
    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 northwest. The boat, 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  honor,
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-"
    The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend;  he  could  scarcely
realize so much determination and tenacity. Then  he  cried,  "Well  -yes!
Your honor 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 would 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 with with  undiminished  fury;  but
the wind now returned to the southeast. It was a favorable 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 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 Shanghai. There remained yet six hours in which to  accomplish  that
distance.  All  on  board  feared  that  it  could  not   be   done;   and
everyone-Phileas Fogg, no  doubt,  excepted  -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 current, 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 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  halfmast,  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.

          22. 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 staterooms in the
rear were, however, unoccupied, -those which had been engaged  by  Phileas
    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 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 senses, 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 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 apologize for his singular
    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 stateroom. 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-"
    "There is no young lady on board," interrupted the purser. "Here is a
list of the passengers; you may see for yourself."
    Passepartout scanned the list, his master's name was not upon it. All
at once an idea struck him.
    "Ah! am I on the Carnatic?"
    "On the way to Yokohama."
    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  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 way-station 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, 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 favor him in  the  European  quarter,  he  penetrated  that
inhabited by the native Japanese, determined, if necessary, to push on  to
    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 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  doublets,
hauberks, and coats of mail; and numbers of military  folk  of  all  ranks
-for the military profession is as  much  respected  in  Japan  as  it  is
despised  in  China  -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 color  to
a dead white, but never yellow,  like  Chinese,  from  whom  the  Japanese
widely differ. He did not fail to observe the curious equipages -carriages
and palanquins, barrows supplied with sails, and litters made  of  bamboo;
nor the women -whom he thought not especially handsome, -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, -an  ornament  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  colors  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 symbolize long life and prosperity.
    As he was strolling along, Passepartout espied some violets among the
    "Good!" said he; "I'll have some supper."
    But, on smelling them, he found that they were odorless.
    "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  sacrilege  to
kill cattle, which are preserved solely for farming, he made up  his  mind
that meat was far from plentiful in Yokohama, -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-colored 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 harbor, which was lit up by the rosin torches of the fishermen, who
were fishing from their boats.
    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!"

             23. 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 utilize 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 forever 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 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  in  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
    "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 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 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:
    (See illustration.)
    "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  colors   and   without
perspective, a company of jugglers.
    This  was  the  Honorable  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 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 gray 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?"
    "The devil! should so like to cross the Pacific with you!"
    "Ah!" said the Honorable Mr. Batulcar. "You are no  more  a  Japanese
than I am a monkey! Why 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."
    "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.
    "Well, that's enough," said the Honorable 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 Honorable 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,  tambourines,
bones, 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.
    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 pipestems, 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
    It is  useless  to  describe  the  astonishing  performances  of  the
acrobats and gymnasts. The turning  on  ladders,  poles,  balls,  barrels,
etc., 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 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 happened  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 -melancholy reminiscence of  his
youth! -he donned  his  costume,  adorned  with  vari-colored  wings,  and
fastened to his natural feature a false nose six feet long. But he cheered
up when 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?"
    "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 Honorable Mr. Batulcar,
furious with rage. He demanded damages for the "breakage" of the  pyramid;
and Phileas Fogg appeased him by giving him a handful of bank notes.
    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.

               24. 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  halfmast,  had
directed his course towards the little craft. Phileas Fogg,  after  paying
the stipulated price of his passage to John  Bunsby,  and  rewarding  that
worthy with the additional sum of five hundred and fifty pounds,  ascended
the steamer with 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, and perhaps to his  own,  though  he
betrayed no emotion, that Passepartout, a Frenchman, had really arrived on
her the day before.
    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 Honorable Mr. Batulcar's theatre. He certainly would not have
recognized 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 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 Pacific in  twenty  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,  -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 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 civilized 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 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 halfway 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!
    "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 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
recognized Passepartout,  despite  his  theatrical  disguise.  He  quickly
concealed himself in his cabin, to avoid an awkward explanation, and hoped
-thanks to the number of passengers -to remain unperceived by  Mr.  Fogg's
    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 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 -yes."
    "Then let me have a word with you."
    "But I-"
    "In your master's interest."
    Passepartout seemed to  be  vanquished  by  Fix's  coolness,  for  he
quietly followed him, and they  sat  down  aside  from  the  rest  of  the
    "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.
    "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? -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.

                 25. 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,  Chile,  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 wormeaten planks, he fell through them. Put out of
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, 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 California 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, horsecars, and upon  the  sidewalks,  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 -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 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 -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
-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,  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 honored 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  in  such
pleasant company.
    Mr. Fogg replied that the honor would be his; and the detective  -who
was determined not to lose sight of him -begged  permission  to  accompany
them in their walk about San Francisco -a request which Mr.  Fogg  readily
    They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where a great  crowd
was collected; the sidewalks, 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  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.  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  -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 -an energetic way, no  doubt,
of casting a vote. 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 is settled."
    "Perhaps," replied Mr. Fogg simply.
    "At least, there are two champions in presence  of  each  other,  the
Honorable Mr. Camerfield and the Honorable 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, 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 recognized, I fear it would go hard with us."
    "An English subject-" 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 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
    "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."
    "To a tailor's."
    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?"
    "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 honor attacked.
    At a quarter before six the travellers reached the station, 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  today  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.

          26. Phileas Fogg and party travel by the Pacific Railroad

    "From Ocean to Ocean" -so say the  Amerians;  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 Uion 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 colonize.
    The journey from New York to San Francisco consumed, formerly,  under
the most favorable 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  lowa,  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, -its grade, even on the Rocky 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 -at least, so he hoped -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.
    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 coul 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 grayish 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  while  the  train  sped  on  across  the  State  of
    The country between San Francisco and Sacramento is 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 northeasterly 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.
    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 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 movable 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 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 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.

            27. 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  southeasterly
for about fifty: miles; then rose an equal  distance  in  a  northeasterly
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 gray, 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  moustaches,  black  stockings,  a  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
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,  emphasizing  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  Morom;  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  and  how,  in  short,  the
celestial messenger appeared to him in an illuminated forest, and gave him
the annals of the Lord.
    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" which,  adopted  not
only in America, but in England, Norway 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  and
honored 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  learned  that,  after  long
persecutions,  Smith  reappeared  in  Illinois,  and  1839  in  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
    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, 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 expectation.
    "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  Elder,
fixing his angry eye 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, -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
    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 1170, and, after being  distilled,
1000. Fishes are of course unable to live in it, and those  which  descend
through the Jordan, the Weber, and other streams, soon perish.
    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 milkwort, 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 checkerboard, "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 courthouse, and the arsenal, blue-brick houses with  verandas
and porches, surrounded by  gardens  bordered  with  acacias,  palms,  and
locusts. A clay and pebble wall, 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  -the  more
well-to-do, no doubt -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 one( 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 decidedly repelled from such a vocation, and he imagined
-perhaps he was mistaken -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!"

                28. 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.
    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, December 7th, 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 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  recognized  Colonel  Stamp
Proctor, the same who had so grossly insulted  Phileas  Fogg  at  the  San
Francisco meeting. Not wishing to be recognized, 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 recognized 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
    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."
    "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
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," 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
    "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.
    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
    "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-"
    "Certainly, sir," Aouda quickly replied; "I know 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-"
    "As you please, sir," replied Phileas Fogg, heartily glad  to  resume
his favorite pastime, -even on the railway.
    Passepartout was despatched  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 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 semicircular curtain which is formed by
the southern portion of the Rocky Mountains,  the  highest  being  Laramie
Peak. Between  it  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; 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 signalman, whom the  stationmaster
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 signalman 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 signalman, it  was  a
ruinous condition, several of the iron wires  being  broken;  and  it  was
impossible to risk the passage. He  did  not  in  an  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 in  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. It is a rapid,
and we shall have to make a circuit of ten miles to the north  to  find  a
    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 bank 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  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-"
    "Eighty chances!" replied the passenger, turning his back on him.
    "I know it," said Passepartout, turning to another passenger, "but  a
simple idea-"
    "Ideas are no use," returned the American, shrugging  his  shoulders,
"as the engineer assures us that we can pass."
    "Doubtless," urged Passepartout, "we can pass, but perhaps  it  would
be more prudent-"
    "What! Prudent!" cried Colonel Proctor,  whom  this  word  seemed  to
excite prodigiously. "At full speed, don't you see, at full speed!"
    "I know-I see," repeated Passepartout; "but it would be, if not  more
prudent, since that word displeases you, at least more natural-"
    "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  any  one  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  the
steam, backed the train for nearly a mile -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.

             29. 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 Cheyenne Pass, and reaching Evans Pass.The
road here attained the highest elevation of the  journey,  eight  thousand
and ninety-one 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 behindhand.
    During the night Camp Walbach was passed  on  the  left;  Lodge  Pole
Creek ran parallel  with  the  road,  marking  the  boundary  between  the
territories 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
civilization, 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  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  -not  even
the dummy -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 favored that gentleman. Trumps and honors were showered up  his
    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 diamond."
    Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix  raised  their  heads,  and  beheld  Colonel
    Stamp Proctor and Phileas Fogg recognized 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  been  played,
adding, "You don't understand anything about whist."
    "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 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 retain Mr. Fogg; as vainly did the  detective
endeavor 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 delay whatever will be greatly to my disadvantage."
    "Well, what's that to me?" replied Colonel Proctor.
    "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."
    "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?"
    "To Chicago?"
    "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
    "Very well," said Mr. Fogg. "I will stop at Plum Creek."
    "And I guess you'll stay there too," added the American insolently.
    "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?"
    "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 honor  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 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.  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
    "Stay, monsieur," cried Passepartout; "I will go."
    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
    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 ust saved them.

                    30. 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 men 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
    All the passengers had got out of the train, the wheels of which were
stained with blood. From the tires and spokes hung ragged pieces of flesh.
As far as the eye could reach 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. -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
    "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.  "These
Indians may retreat beyond the Arkansas,  and  I  cannot  leave  the  fort
    "The lives of three men are 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
    "Would you have me leave this poor fellow to  perish,  -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  favor,  you  will
remain in with Aouda. In case anything should happen to me-"
    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 carpetbag, 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
    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 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 plain; 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  east
neither had there been time for the  succor  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.
    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
    Aouda, on seeing the locomotive come up, hurried out of the  station,
and asked the engineer, "Are you going to start?"
    "At once, madam."
    "But the prisoners -our unfortunate fellow travellers-"
    "I cannot interrupt the trip," replied the engineer. "We are  already
three hours behind time."
    "And when will another train pass here from San Francisco?"
    "Tomorrow evening, madam."
    "Tomorrow evening! But then it will be too late! We must wait-"
    "It is impossible," responded the  engineer.  "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 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 overheated 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 became intensely  cold.
Absolute silence rested on the plains. Neither flight of bird nor  passing
of beast troubled the perfect calm.
    Through 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 disk of the sun
rose above a misty horizon; but it was now possible to  recognize  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  reconnoissance,  when
gunshots were heard. Was it a signal? The soldiers rushed out of the fort,
and half a mile 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 analyze 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
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.
    "Gone," replied Fix.
    "And when does the next train pass here?" asked Phileas Fogg.
    "Not till this evening."
    "Ah!" returned the impassible gentleman quietly.

                 31. Fix the defective 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
    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?"
    "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 another. Provided  with  more
sail 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 landcraft. The
wind was favorable, 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 favorable 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  his
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
Phileas Fogg was somewhat modified; but 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 re 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
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 topmast 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 sledge could not be going less than forty miles  an
    "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  southwest  to  the
northwest 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  the  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,  -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
    "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 disk 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
and there were 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 fast 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
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 phantomlike 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, 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
    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 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 lowa, by Council Bluffs,
Des Moines, and lowa 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 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 Pittsburgh, Fort Wayne, and Chicago Railway left  at
full speed, as if it fully comprehended that that gentleman 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

       32. 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 transatlantic steamers.
    Passepartout was crushed; it overwhelmed him  to  lose  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  tomorrow.
    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
    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 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  oxidized
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?"
    "In an hour."
    "You are bound for-"
    "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. I am setting out for Bordeaux, and shall go to Bordeaux."
    "Money is no object?"
    The captain spoke in a tone which did not admit of a reply.
    "But the owners of the Henrietta-" resumed Phileas Fogg.
    "The owners are myself," replied the captain. "The vessel belongs  to
    "I will freight it for you."
    "I will buy it of you."
    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, -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."
    "And there are four of you?"
    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,
passengers at two thousand dollars are no longer passengers, but  valuable
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,
    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!

            33. 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  vessel's
position. It might be thought that this was 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, and during the thirty hours he had been on
board, had so shrewdly managed with his bank notes 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 -for there were "ifs" still -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
thou sand 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 stationary in  the  northeast,  the
sails were hoisted, and the Henrietta ploughed across  the  waves  like  a
real transatlantic 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 humor infected every one. He had forgotten the  past,  its
vexations and delays. He only thought of the end, so nearly  accomplished;
and sometimes he boiled 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 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 in 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 southeast.
    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.
    Passenpartout's visage darkened with the skies, and for two days  the
poor fellow experienced constant fright.  But  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. Sometimes 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 southeast, 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  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.
    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  vomitted  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 been apoplectic, he could never have  recovered
from his paroxysm of wrath.
    "Where are we we?" he repeated, with purple face.
    "Seven hundred and seventy miles to  Liverpool,"  replied  Mr.  Fogg,
with imperturbable calmness.
    "Pirate!" cried Captain Speedy.
    "I have sent for you, sir-"
    "-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
    "The iron hull and the engine. Is it agreed?"
    And  Andrew  Speedy,  seizing  the  bank  notes,  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 is 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 -"
    "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-"
    "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,-all  the  wood,
that is."
    "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 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
    "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
    "Can we enter the harbor?"
    "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 transatlantic 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  harbor  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
    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, however, abandon  Mr.  Fogg.
They all got upon the train, which was just ready to  start,  at  halfpast
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, December 21st. He was only six hours  distant  from
    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!"

                  34. Phileas Fogg at last reaches London

    Phileas Fogg was in prison. He had been shut up in the Custom  House,
and he was to be 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 policeman. 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 or do nothing to save her protector, 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 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
    If any one, 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 forth, with an irresistible force, at  the
last moment? No one could tell. There he sat, calmly  waiting  -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
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, "December 21, 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  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
    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  -forgive  me  -a  most   unfortunate
resemblance -robber arrested three days ago -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.
    There were  several  rapid  locomotives  on  hand;  but  the  railway
arrangements did not  permit  the  special  train  to  leave  until  three
    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 behindhand five minutes. He
had lost the wager!

            35. Phileas Fogg does not have fo 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 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 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  honor'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
    The night passed. Mr. Fogg went to bed, but did he 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 moments' conversation with the young lady.
    Passepartout, having received his orders, had nothing 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-
    Passepartout could hold in no longer.
    "My master! Mr. Fogg!" he cried, "why do you not curse me? It was  my
fault that-"
    "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  -nothing!  I  have  no
influence over my master; but you, perhaps-"
    "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
    "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 check 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 duty in tracking  and
arresting him; while he, Passepartout-. 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."
    "I know it, Mr. Fogg," replied Aouda; "and I ask  you,  in  my  turn,
will you forgive me for having followed you, and who knows;  -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  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
    "But how do you look upon the fate 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-"
    "I have no friends, madam."
    "Your relatives-"
    "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,  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.
    "Will it be for tomorrow, Monday?"
    "For Monday," said Mr. Fogg, turning to Aouda.
    "Yes; for Monday," she replied.
    Passepartout hurried off as fast as his legs could carry him.

        36. 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 bank  robber,  a  certain  James
Strand, had been arrested, on the 17th 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   honorable   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  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 despatched 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 favor.
    A great crowd was collected in Pall Mall and the neighboring  streets
on Saturday evening; it seemed like a  multitude  of  brokers  permanently
established  around  the  Reform  Club.  Circulation  was   impeded,   and
everywhere 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
    "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, 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
    "He has lost, gentlemen," 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 favored him, he can scarcely  have
reached America. I think he will be at least twenty days  behindhand,  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 check at Barings tomorrow."
    At this moment, the hands of the club clock pointed to twenty minutes
to nine.
    "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
    At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth, still nothing.
    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!"

         37. 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, about five and twenty hours  after  the
arrival of the travellers in London, 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.
    In  three  minutes  he  was  in  Saville  Row  again,  and  staggered
breathless into Mr. Fogg's room.
    He could not speak.
    "What is the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.
    "My master!" gasped Passepartout, -"marriage -impossible-"
    "Impossible -for tomorrow."
    "Why so?"
    "Because tomorrow -is Sunday!"
    "Monday," replied Mr. Fogg.
    "No -today -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
    The clock indicated a quarter before nine when  he  appeared  in  the
great saloon.
    Phileas Fogg had accomplished the journey round the world  in  eighty
    Phileas Fogg had won his wager of twenty thousand pounds!
    How was 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  lie  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  -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
awaited him at the Reform Club on Saturday, and not Sunday,  as  Mr.  Fogg
    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 minutes!
    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
    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-"
    "Dear Mr. Fogg!" said the young woman.
    "Dear Aouda!" replied Phileas Fogg.
    It need not be said that 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 honor?
    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,
    "What is it, sir? Why, I've just this instant found out-"
    "That we might have made the tour of the world in only  seventy-eight
    "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-"
    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  -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?
    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

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