No More Learning

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
minutes. "

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

"Monsieur is going to leave home? "

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

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

"Round the world! " he murmured.

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

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

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

Passepartout tried to reply, but could not. He went out, mounted to
his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: "That's good, that is!
And I, who wanted to remain quiet! "

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

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

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

"You have forgotten nothing? " asked he.

"Nothing, monsieur. "

"My mackintosh and cloak? "

"Here they are. "

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

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

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

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

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

Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr.
Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five
friends of the Reform.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What? "

"To turn off the gas in my room! "

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




Chapter V


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


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

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

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

Everything, it said, was against the travellers, every obstacle imposed
alike by man and by nature. A miraculous agreement of the times of
departure and arrival, which was impossible, was absolutely necessary
to his success. He might, perhaps, reckon on the arrival of trains at
the designated hours, in Europe, where the distances 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 Albemarle, an elderly paralytic gentleman, was now the only
advocate of Phileas Fogg left. This noble lord, who was fastened to
his chair, would have given his fortune to be able to make the tour of
the world, if it took ten years; and he bet five thousand pounds on
Phileas Fogg. When the folly as well as the uselessness of the
adventure was pointed out to him, he contented himself with replying,
"If the thing is feasible, the first to do it ought to be an
Englishman. "

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

The commissioner of police was sitting in his office at nine o'clock
one evening, when the following telegraphic dispatch was put into his
hands:

Suez to London.

Rowan, Commissioner of Police, Scotland Yard:

I've found the bank robber, Phileas Fogg. Send with out delay warrant
of arrest to Bombay.

Fix, Detective.

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




Chapter VI

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


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

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

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

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

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

"Does she come directly from Brindisi? "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was now half-past ten.

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

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

"How long will she stop at Suez? "

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

"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 Fix, and returned to the steamer.
Chapter VII

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


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

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

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

"If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will come. "

"To have his passport visaed? "

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am. "

"And this man is your servant? "

"He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout. "

"You are from London? "

"Yes. "

"And you are going--"

"To Bombay. "

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

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

"Very well, sir. "

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

"Well? " queried the detective.

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

"Possibly; but that is not the question. Do you think, consul, that
this 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 a
boat, and descended to his cabin. He took up his note-book, which
contained the following memoranda:

"Left London, Wednesday, October 2nd, at 8. 45 p. m. "Reached Paris,
Thursday, October 3rd, at 7. 20 a. m. "Left Paris, Thursday, at 8. 40
a. m. "Reached Turin by Mont Cenis, Friday, October 4th, at 6. 35 a. m.
"Left Turin, Friday, at 7. 20 a. m. "Arrived at Brindisi, Saturday,
October 5th, at 4 p. m. "Sailed on the Mongolia, Saturday, at 5 p. m.
"Reached Suez, Wednesday, October 9th, at 11 a. m. "Total of hours
spent, 158+; or, in days, six days and a half. "

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




Chapter VIII

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


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

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

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

"And you are looking about you? "

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

"Yes. "

"In Egypt? "

"Certainly, in Egypt. "

"And in Africa? "

"In Africa. "

"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 carpet-bag. "

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

"Really, monsieur, you are very kind. "

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

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

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

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

"Your watch is slow. "

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

"I see how it is," said Fix. "You have kept London time, which is two
hours behind that of Suez. You ought to regulate your watch at noon in
each country. "

"I regulate my watch? Never! "

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

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

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

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

"But where is your master going? "

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

"Round the world? " cried Fix.

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

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

"I should say he was. "

"Is he rich? "

"No doubt, for he is carrying an enormous sum in brand new banknotes
with him. And he doesn't spare the money on the way, either: he has
offered a large reward to the engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to
Bombay well in advance of time. "

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

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

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

"Is Bombay far from here? " asked Passepartout.

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

"And in what country is Bombay? "

"India. "

"In Asia? "

"Certainly. "

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

"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 countries off
his track. "

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

"But are you not mistaken? "

"I am not mistaken. "

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

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

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

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

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

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




Chapter IX

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


The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and
ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one
hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia,
thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so
rapid was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that
time. The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for
India some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the
nearest route thither, now that a railway crosses the Indian peninsula.
Among the passengers was a number of officials and military officers of
various grades, the latter being either attached to the regular British
forces or commanding the Sepoy troops, and receiving high salaries ever
since the central government has assumed the powers of the East India
Company: for the sub-lieutenants get 280 pounds, brigadiers, 2,400
pounds, and generals of divisions, 4,000 pounds. What with the
military men, a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels, and
the hospitable efforts of the purser, the time passed quickly on the
Mongolia. The best of fare was spread upon the cabin tables at
breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the eight o'clock supper, and the ladies
scrupulously changed their toilets twice a day; and the hours were
whirled away, when the sea was tranquil, with music, dancing, and games.

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

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

As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, and took his
meals conscientiously in the forward cabin. He rather enjoyed the
voyage, for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in
the scenes through which they were passing, and consoled himself with
the delusion that his master's whim would end at Bombay. He was
pleased, on the day after leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging
person with whom he had walked and chatted on the quays.

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

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

"Just so, monsieur--"

"Fix. "

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