Around the World in 80 Days
'True. Well, if I can't take you as a servant, I can as a
clown. You see, my friend, in France they exhibit foreign
clowns, and in foreign parts French clowns.'
'Ah!'
'You are pretty strong, eh?'
'Especially after a good meal.'
'And you can sing?'
'Yes,' returned Passepartout, who had formerly been
wont to sing in the streets.
'But can you sing standing on your head, with a top
spinning on your left foot, and a sabre balanced on your
right?'
'Humph! I think so,' replied Passepartout, recalling the
exercises of his younger days.
'Well, that's enough,' said the Honourable William
Batulcar.
The engagement was concluded there and then.
Passepartout had at last found something to do. He was
engaged to act in the celebrated Japanese troupe. It was
not a very dignified position, but within a week he would
be on his way to San Francisco.
The performance, so noisily announced by the
Honourable Mr. Batulcar, was to commence at three
o'clock, and soon the deafening instruments of a Japanese
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orchestra resounded at the door. Passepartout, though he
had not been able to study or rehearse a part, was
designated to lend the aid of his sturdy shoulders in the
great exhibition of the 'human pyramid,' executed by the
Long Noses of the god Tingou. This 'great attraction' was
to close the performance.
Before three o'clock the large shed was invaded by the
spectators, comprising Europeans and natives, Chinese and
Japanese, men, women and children, who precipitated
themselves upon the narrow benches and into the boxes
opposite the stage. The musicians took up a position
inside, and were vigorously performing on their gongs,
tam-tams, flutes, bones, tambourines, and immense drums.
The performance was much like all acrobatic displays;
but it must be confessed that the Japanese are the first
equilibrists in the world.
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
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combinations with a spinning-top; in his hands the
revolving tops seemed to be animated with a life of their
own in their interminable whirling; they ran over pipe-
stems, the edges of sabres, wires and even hairs stretched
across the stage; they turned around on the edges of large
glasses, crossed bamboo ladders, dispersed into all the
corners, and produced strange musical effects by the
combination of their various pitches of tone. The jugglers
tossed them in the air, threw them like shuttlecocks with
wooden battledores, and yet they kept on spinning; they
put them into their pockets, and took them out still
whirling as before.
It is useless to describe the astonishing performances of
the acrobats and gymnasts. The turning on ladders, poles,
balls, barrels, &c., 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,
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six, and even ten feet long, some straight, others curved,
some ribboned, and some having imitation warts upon
them. It was upon these appendages, fixed tightly on their
real noses, that they performed their gymnastic exercises.
A dozen of these sectaries of Tingou lay flat upon their
backs, while others, dressed to represent lightning-rods,
came and frolicked on their noses, jumping from one to
another, and performing the most skilful leapings and
somersaults.
As a last scene, a 'human pyramid' had been
announced, in which fifty Long Noses were to represent
the Car of Juggernaut. But, instead of forming a pyramid
by mounting each other's shoulders, the artists were to
group themselves on top of the noses. It happened that the
performer who had hitherto formed the base of the Car
had quitted the troupe, and as, to fill this part, only
strength and adroitness were necessary, Passepartout had
been chosen to take his place.
The poor fellow really felt sad when—melancholy
reminiscence of his youth!—he donned his costume,
adorned with vari-coloured wings, and fastened to his
natural feature a false nose six feet long. But he cheered up
when he thought that this nose was winning him
something to eat.
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Around the World in 80 Days
He went upon the stage, and took his place beside the
rest who were to compose the base of the Car of
Juggernaut. They all stretched themselves on the floor,
their noses pointing to the ceiling. A second group of
artists disposed themselves on these long appendages, then
a third above these, then a fourth, until a human
monument reaching to the very cornices of the theatre
soon arose on top of the noses. This elicited loud applause,
in the midst of which the orchestra was just striking up a
deafening air, when the pyramid tottered, the balance was
lost, one of the lower noses vanished from the pyramid,
and the human monument was shattered like a castle built
of cards!
It was Passepartout's fault. Abandoning his position,
clearing the footlights without the aid of his wings, and,
clambering up to the right-hand gallery, he fell at the feet
of one of the spectators, crying, 'Ah, my master! my
master!'
'You here?'
'Myself.'
'Very well; then let us go to the steamer, young man!'
Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout passed through the
lobby of the theatre to the outside, where they
encountered the Honourable Mr. Batulcar, furious with
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rage. He demanded damages for the 'breakage' of the
pyramid; and Phileas Fogg appeased him by giving him a
handful of banknotes.
At half-past six, the very hour of departure, Mr. Fogg
and Aouda, followed by Passepartout, who in his hurry
had retained his wings, and nose six feet long, stepped
upon the American steamer.
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Chapter XXIV
DURING WHICH MR. FOGG
AND PARTY CROSS THE
PACIFIC OCEAN
What happened when the pilot-boat came in sight of
Shanghai will be easily guessed. The signals made by the
Tankadere had been seen by the captain of the Yokohama
steamer, who, espying the flag at half-mast, had directed
his course towards the little craft. Phileas Fogg, after
paying the stipulated price of his passage to John Busby,
and rewarding that worthy with the additional sum of five
hundred and fifty pounds, ascended the steamer with
Aouda and Fix; and they started at once for Nagasaki and
Yokohama.
They reached their destination on the morning of the
14th of November. Phileas Fogg lost no time in going on
board the Carnatic, where he learned, to Aouda's great
delight—and perhaps to his own, though he betrayed no
emotion—that Passepartout, a Frenchman, had really
arrived on her the day before.
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The San Francisco steamer was announced to leave that
very evening, and it became necessary to find Passepartout,
if possible, without delay. Mr. Fogg applied in vain to the
French and English consuls, and, after wandering through
the streets a long time, began to despair of finding his
missing servant. Chance, or perhaps a kind of
presentiment, at last led him into the Honourable Mr.
Batulcar's theatre. He certainly would not have recognised
Passepartout in the eccentric mountebank's costume; but
the latter, lying on his back, perceived his master in the
gallery. He could not help starting, which so changed the
position of his nose as to bring the 'pyramid' pell-mell
upon the stage.
All this Passepartout learned from Aouda, who
recounted to him what had taken place on the voyage
from Hong Kong to Shanghai on the Tankadere, in
company with one Mr. Fix.
Passepartout did not change countenance on hearing
this name. He thought that the time had not yet arrived to
divulge to his master what had taken place between the
detective and himself; and, in the account he gave of his
absence, he simply excused himself for having been
overtaken by drunkenness, in smoking opium at a tavern
in Hong Kong.
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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 ocean in twenty-one days. Phileas
Fogg was therefore justified in hoping that he would reach
San Francisco by the 2nd of December, New York by the
11th, and London on the 20th—thus gaining several hours
on the fatal date of the 21st of December.
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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
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civilised places again. A railway train from San Francisco
to New York, and a transatlantic steamer from New York
to Liverpool, would doubtless bring them to the end of
this impossible journey round the world within the period
agreed upon.
On the ninth day after leaving Yokohama, Phileas Fogg
had traversed exactly one half of the terrestrial globe. The
General Grant passed, on the 23rd of November, the one
hundred and eightieth meridian, and was at the very
antipodes of London. Mr. Fogg had, it is true, exhausted
fifty-two of the eighty days in which he was to complete
the tour, and there were only twenty-eight left. But,
though he was only half-way by the difference of
meridians, he had really gone over two-thirds of the
whole journey; for he had been obliged to make long
circuits from London to Aden, from Aden to Bombay,
from Calcutta to Singapore, and from Singapore to
Yokohama. Could he have followed without deviation
the fiftieth parallel, which is that of London, the whole
distance would only have been about twelve thousand
miles; whereas he would be forced, by the irregular
methods of locomotion, to traverse twenty-six thousand,
of which he had, on the 23rd of November, accomplished
seventeen thousand five hundred. And now the course
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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
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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
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will follow him across the Atlantic. As for the money,
heaven grant there may be some left! But the fellow has
already spent in travelling, rewards, trials, bail, elephants,
and all sorts of charges, more than five thousand pounds.
Yet, after all, the Bank is rich!'
His course decided on, he went on board the General
Grant, and was there when Mr. Fogg and Aouda arrived.
To his utter amazement, he recognised Passepartout,
despite his theatrical disguise. He quickly concealed
himself in his cabin, to avoid an awkward explanation, and
hoped—thanks to the number of passengers—to remain
unperceived by Mr. Fogg's servant.
On that very day, however, he met Passepartout face to
face on the forward deck. The latter, without a word,
made a rush for him, grasped him by the throat, and,
much to the amusement of a group of Americans, who
immediately began to bet on him, administered to the
detective a perfect volley of blows, which proved the 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.'
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'Then let me have a word with you.'
'But I—'
'In your master's interests.'
Passepartout seemed to be vanquished by Fix's
coolness, for he quietly followed him, and they sat down
aside from the rest of the passengers.
'You have given me a thrashing,' said Fix. 'Good, I
expected it. Now, listen to me. Up to this time I have
been Mr. Fogg's adversary. I am now in his game.'
'Aha!' cried Passepartout; 'you are convinced he is an
honest man?'
'No,' replied Fix coldly, 'I think him a rascal. Sh! don't
budge, and let me speak. As long as Mr. Fogg was on
English ground, it was for my interest to detain him there
until my warrant of arrest arrived. I did everything I could
to keep him back. I sent the Bombay priests after him, I
got you intoxicated at Hong Kong, I separated you from
him, and I made him miss the Yokohama steamer.'
Passepartout listened, with closed fists.
'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
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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.
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Around the World in 80 Days
Chapter XXV
IN WHICH A SLIGHT
GLIMPSE IS HAD OF SAN
FRANCISCO
It was seven in the morning when Mr. Fogg, Aouda,
and Passepartout set foot upon the American continent, if
this name can be given to the floating quay upon which
they disembarked. These quays, rising and falling with the
tide, thus facilitate the loading and unloading of vessels.
Alongside them were clippers of all sizes, steamers of all
nationalities, and the steamboats, with several decks rising
one above the other, which ply on the Sacramento and its
tributaries. There were also heaped up the products of a
commerce which extends to Mexico, Chili, Peru, Brazil,
Europe, Asia, and all the Pacific islands.
Passepartout, in his joy on reaching at last the American
continent, thought he would manifest it by executing a
perilous vault in fine style; but, tumbling upon some
worm-eaten planks, he fell through them. Put out of
countenance by the manner in which he thus 'set foot'
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upon the New World, he uttered a loud cry, which so
frightened the innumerable cormorants and pelicans that
are always perched upon these movable quays, that they
flew noisily away.
Mr. Fogg, on reaching shore, proceeded to find out at
what hour the first train left for New York, and learned
that this was at six o'clock p.m.; he had, therefore, an
entire day to spend in the Californian capital. Taking a
carriage at a charge of three dollars, he and Aouda entered
it, while Passepartout mounted the box beside the driver,
and they set out for the International Hotel.
From his exalted position Passepartout observed with
much curiosity the wide streets, the low, evenly ranged
houses, the Anglo-Saxon Gothic churches, the great
docks, the palatial wooden and brick warehouses, the
numerous conveyances, omnibuses, horse-cars, and upon
the side-walks, not only Americans and Europeans, but
Chinese and Indians. Passepartout was surprised at all he
saw. San Francisco was no longer the legendary city of
1849—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.
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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
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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 honoured to
behold once more the gentleman to whom he owed so
much, and, as his business recalled him to Europe, he
should be delighted to continue the journey in such
pleasant company.
Mr. Fogg replied that the honour would be his; and the
detective— who was determined not to lose sight of
him—begged permission to accompany them in their walk
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about San Francisco—a request which Mr. Fogg readily
granted.
They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street,
where a great crowd was collected; the side-walks, street,
horsecar rails, the shop-doors, the windows of the houses,
and even the roofs, were full of people. Men were going
about carrying large posters, and flags and streamers were
floating in the wind; while loud cries were heard on every
hand.
'Hurrah for Camerfield!'
'Hurrah for Mandiboy!'
It was a political meeting; at least so Fix conjectured,
who said to Mr. Fogg, 'Perhaps we had better not mingle
with the crowd. There may be danger in it.'
'Yes,' returned Mr. Fogg; 'and blows, even if they are
political are still blows.'
Fix smiled at this remark; and, in order to be able to see
without being jostled about, the party took up a position
on the top of a flight of steps situated at the upper end of
Montgomery Street. Opposite them, on the other side of
the street, between a coal wharf and a petroleum
warehouse, a large platform had been erected in the open
air, towards which the current of the crowd seemed to be
directed.
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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 question is settled.'
'Perhaps,' replied Mr. Fogg, simply.
'At least, there are two champions in presence of each
other, the Honourable Mr. Camerfield and the
Honourable Mr. Mandiboy.'
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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
recognised, 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
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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 ruffian.
'Englishman!' returned the other. 'We will meet again!'
'When you please.'
'What is your name?'
'Phileas Fogg. And yours?'
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