Around the World in 80 Days
'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!'
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'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.
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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
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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.
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'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.
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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.'
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'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?'
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'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 phelgmatic gentleman resembles, feature
by feature, the robber whose description I have received?'
'I concede that; but then, you know, all descriptions—'
'I'll make certain of it,' interrupted Fix. 'The servant
seems to me less mysterious than the master; besides, he's a
Frenchman, and can't help talking. Excuse me for a little
while, consul.'
Fix started off in search of Passepartout.
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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
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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.
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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.'
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'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.'
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'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.'
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'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?'
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'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 sixpense more than I earn; and
you will understand that the longer our journey—'
Did Fix pay any attention to Passepartout's trouble
about the gas? It is not probable. He was not listening, but
was cogitating a project. Passepartout and he had now
reached the shop, where Fix left his companion to make
his purchases, after recommending him not to miss the
steamer, and hurried back to the consulate. Now that he
was fully convinced, Fix had quite recovered his
equanimity.
'Consul,' said he, 'I have no longer any doubt. I have
spotted my man. He passes himself off as an odd stick who
is going round the world in eighty days.'
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'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
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moments longer, the noble steamer rode out at full steam
upon the waters of the Red Sea.
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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
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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
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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.
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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. Where are you bound?'
'Like you, to Bombay.'
'That's capital! Have you made this trip before?'
'Several times. I am one of the agents of the Peninsular
Company.'
'Then you know India?'
'Why yes,' replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.
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'A curious place, this India?'
'Oh, very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs,
pagodas, tigers, snakes, elephants! I hope you will have
ample time to see the sights.'
'I hope so, Monsieur Fix. You see, a man of sound
sense ought not to spend his life jumping from a steamer
upon a railway train, and from a railway train upon a
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
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him a glass of whiskey or pale ale in the steamer bar-room,
which Passepartout never failed to accept with graceful
alacrity, mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good
fellows.
Meanwhile the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly;
on the 13th, Mocha, surrounded by its ruined walls
whereon date-trees were growing, was sighted, and on the
mountains beyond were espied vast coffee-fields.
Passepartout was ravished to behold this celebrated place,
and thought that, with its circular walls and dismantled
fort, it looked like an immense coffee-cup and saucer. The
following night they passed through the Strait of Bab-el-
Mandeb, which means in Arabic The Bridge of Tears, and
the next day they put in at Steamer Point, north-west of
Aden harbour, to take in coal. This matter of fuelling
steamers is a serious one at such distances from the coal-
mines; it costs the Peninsular Company some eight
hundred thousand pounds a year. In these distant seas, coal
is worth three or four pounds sterling a ton.
The Mongolia had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles
to traverse before reaching Bombay, and was obliged to
remain four hours at Steamer Point to coal up. But this
delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect Phileas Fogg's
programme; besides, the Mongolia, instead of reaching
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Aden on the morning of the 15th, when she was due,
arrived there on the evening of the 14th, a gain of fifteen
hours.
Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have
the passport again visaed; Fix, unobserved, followed them.
The visa procured, Mr. Fogg returned on board to resume
his former habits; while Passepartout, according to custom,
sauntered about among the mixed population of Somanlis,
Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who
comprise the twenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden.
He gazed with wonder upon the fortifications which make
this place the Gibraltar of the Indian Ocean, and the vast
cisterns where the English engineers were still at work,
two thousand years after the engineers of Solomon.
'Very curious, very curious,' said Passepartout to
himself, on returning to the steamer. 'I see that it is by no
means useless to travel, if a man wants to see something
new.' At six p.m. the Mongolia slowly moved out of the
roadstead, and was soon once more on the Indian Ocean.
She had a hundred and sixty-eight hours in which to reach
Bombay, and the sea was favourable, the wind being in
the north-west, and all sails aiding the engine. The steamer
rolled but little, the ladies, in fresh toilets, reappeared on
deck, and the singing and dancing were resumed. The trip
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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 victory.
The Mongolia was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she
arrived on the 20th. This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of
two days since his departure from London, and he calmly
entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column of gains.
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Chapter X
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