March 11, 2011

Around the World in 80 by Jules Verne (page 7)


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Around the World in 80 Days

too late for the Yokohama boat, would almost inevitably

cause the loss of the wager. But this man of nerve

manifested neither impatience nor annoyance; it seemed as

if the storm were a part of his programme, and had been

foreseen. Aouda was amazed to find him as calm as he had

been from the first time she saw him.

Fix did not look at the state of things in the same light.

The storm greatly pleased him. His satisfaction would have

been complete had the Rangoon been forced to retreat

before the violence of wind and waves. Each delay filled

him with hope, for it became more and more probable

that Fogg would be obliged to remain some days at Hong

Kong; and now the heavens themselves became his allies,

with the gusts and squalls. It mattered not that they made

him sea-sick—he made no account of this inconvenience;

and, whilst his body was writhing under their effects, his

spirit bounded with hopeful exultation.

Passepartout was enraged beyond expression by the

unpropitious weather. Everything had gone so well till

now! Earth and sea had seemed to be at his master's

service; steamers and railways obeyed him; wind and steam

united to speed his journey. Had the hour of adversity

come? Passepartout was as much excited as if the twenty

thousand pounds were to come from his own pocket. The

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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 favourable. Passepartout

cleared up with the weather. Some of the sails were

unfurled, and the Rangoon resumed its most rapid speed.

The time lost could not, however, be regained. Land was

not signalled until five o'clock on the morning of the 6th;

the steamer was due on the 5th. Phileas Fogg was twenty-

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four hours behind-hand, and the Yokohama steamer

would, of course, be missed.

The pilot went on board at six, and took his place on

the bridge, to guide the Rangoon through the channels to

the port of Hong Kong. Passepartout longed to ask him if

the steamer had left for Yokohama; but he dared not, for

he wished to preserve the spark of hope, which still

remained till the last moment. He had confided his anxiety

to Fix who—the sly rascal!—tried to console him by

saying that Mr. Fogg would be in time if he took the next

boat; but this only put Passepartout in a passion.

Mr. Fogg, bolder than his servant, did not hesitate to

approach the pilot, and tranquilly ask him if he knew

when a steamer would leave Hong Kong for Yokohama.

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

'Ah!' said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any

astonishment.

Passepartout, who heard what passed, would willingly

have embraced the pilot, while Fix would have been glad

to twist his neck.

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

'The Carnatic.'

'Ought she not to have gone yesterday?'

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'Yes, sir; but they had to repair one of her boilers, and

so her departure was postponed till to-morrow.'

'Thank you,' returned Mr. Fogg, descending

mathematically to the saloon.

Passepartout clasped the pilot's hand and shook it

heartily in his delight, exclaiming, 'Pilot, you are the best

of good fellows!'

The pilot probably does not know to this day why his

responses won him this enthusiastic greeting. He

remounted the bridge, and guided the steamer through the

flotilla of junks, tankas, and fishing boats which crowd the

harbour of Hong Kong.

At one o'clock the Rangoon was at the quay, and the

passengers were going ashore.

Chance had strangely favoured Phileas Fogg, for had

not the Carnatic been forced to lie over for repairing her

boilers, she would have left on the 6th of November, and

the passengers for Japan would have been obliged to await

for a week the sailing of the next steamer. Mr. Fogg was,

it is true, twenty-four hours behind his time; but this

could not seriously imperil the remainder of his tour.

The steamer which crossed the Pacific from Yokohama

to San Francisco made a direct connection with that from

Hong Kong, and it could not sail until the latter reached

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Yokohama; and if Mr. Fogg was twenty-four hours late

on reaching Yokohama, this time would no doubt be

easily regained in the voyage of twenty-two days across

the Pacific. He found himself, then, about twenty-four

hours behind-hand, thirty-five days after leaving London.

The Carnatic was announced to leave Hong Kong at

five the next morning. Mr. Fogg had sixteen hours in

which to attend to his business there, which was to deposit

Aouda safely with her wealthy relative.

On landing, he conducted her to a palanquin, in which

they repaired to the Club Hotel. A room was engaged for

the young woman, and Mr. Fogg, after seeing that she

wanted for nothing, set out in search of her cousin

Jeejeeh. He instructed Passepartout to remain at the hotel

until his return, that Aouda might not be left entirely

alone.

Mr. Fogg repaired to the Exchange, where, he did not

doubt, every one would know so wealthy and

considerable a personage as the Parsee merchant. Meeting

a broker, he made the inquiry, to learn that Jeejeeh had

left China two years before, and, retiring from business

with an immense fortune, had taken up his residence in

Europe—in Holland the broker thought, with the

merchants of which country he had principally traded.

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Phileas Fogg returned to the hotel, begged a moment's

conversation with Aouda, and without more ado, apprised

her that Jeejeeh was no longer at Hong Kong, but

probably in Holland.

Aouda at first said nothing. She passed her hand across

her forehead, and reflected a few moments. Then, in her

sweet, soft voice, she said: 'What ought I to do, Mr.

Fogg?'

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

Europe.'

'But I cannot intrude—'

'You do not intrude, nor do you in the least embarrass

my project. Passepartout!'

'Monsieur.'

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

Passepartout, delighted that the young woman, who

was very gracious to him, was going to continue the

journey with them, went off at a brisk gait to obey his

master's order.

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Chapter XIX



IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT

TAKES A TOO GREAT

INTEREST IN HIS MASTER,

AND WHAT COMES OF IT

Hong Kong is an island which came into the possession

of the English by the Treaty of Nankin, after the war of

1842; and the colonising genius of the English has created

upon it an important city and an excellent port. The island

is situated at the mouth of the Canton River, and is

separated by about sixty miles from the Portuguese town

of Macao, on the opposite coast. Hong Kong has beaten

Macao in the struggle for the Chinese trade, and now the

greater part of the transportation of Chinese goods finds its

depot at the former place. Docks, hospitals, wharves, a

Gothic cathedral, a government house, macadamised

streets, give to Hong Kong the appearance of a town in

Kent or Surrey transferred by some strange magic to the

antipodes.

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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 colour. Passepartout, without exactly

knowing why, thought this very funny.

On reaching the quay where they were to embark on

the Carnatic, he was not astonished to find Fix walking up

and down. The detective seemed very much disturbed and

disappointed.

'This is bad,' muttered Passepartout, 'for the gentlemen

of the Reform Club!' He accosted Fix with a merry smile,

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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 with us so far as America?'

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

'Good!' exclaimed Passepartout, laughing heartily. 'I

knew you could not persuade yourself to separate from us.

Come and engage your berth.'

They entered the steamer office and secured cabins for

four persons. The clerk, as he gave them the tickets,

informed them that, the repairs on the Carnatic having

been completed, the steamer would leave that very

evening, and not next morning, as had been announced.

'That will suit my master all the better,' said

Passepartout. 'I will go and let him know.'

Fix now decided to make a bold move; he resolved to

tell Passepartout all. It seemed to be the only possible

means of keeping Phileas Fogg several days longer at Hong

Kong. He accordingly invited his companion into a tavern

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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

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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 to-morrow; I haven't time now.'

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

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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

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Around the World in 80 Days

thousand pounds. If you'll help me, I'll let you have five

hundred of them.'

'Help you?' cried Passepartout, whose eyes were

standing wide open.

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

days.'

'Why, what are you saying? Those gentlemen are not

satisfied with following my master and suspecting his

honour, but they must try to put obstacles in his way! I

blush for them!'

'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!'

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'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,' said Fix abruptly. 'I am not, as you

think, an agent of the members of the Reform Club—'

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

'I am a police detective, sent out here by the London

office.'

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'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 his description; it answers exactly to that

of Mr. Phileas Fogg.'

'What nonsense!' cried Passepartout, striking the table

with his fist. 'My master is the most honourable of men!'

'How can you tell? You know scarcely anything about

him. You went into his service the day he came away; and

he came away on a foolish pretext, without trunks, and

carrying a large amount in banknotes. And yet you are

bold enough to assert that he is an honest man!'

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

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

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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

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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 Carnatic's departure;

and, if he is, he will have to go without this cursed

Frenchman!'

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

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Chapter XX



IN WHICH FIX COMES FACE

TO FACE WITH PHILEAS

FOGG

While these events were passing at the opium-house,

Mr. Fogg, unconscious of the danger he was in of losing

the steamer, was quietly escorting Aouda about the streets

of the English quarter, making the necessary purchases for

the long voyage before them. It was all very well for an

Englishman like Mr. Fogg to make the tour of the world

with a carpet-bag; a lady could not be expected to travel

comfortably under such conditions. He acquitted his task

with characteristic serenity, and invariably replied to the

remonstrances of his fair companion, who was confused by

his patience and generosity:

'It is in the interest of my journey—a part of my

programme.'

The purchases made, they returned to the hotel, where

they dined at a sumptuously served table-d'hote; after

which Aouda, shaking hands with her protector after the





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English fashion, retired to her room for rest. Mr. Fogg

absorbed himself throughout the evening in the perusal of

The Times and Illustrated London News.

Had he been capable of being astonished at anything, it

would have been not to see his servant return at bedtime.

But, knowing that the steamer was not to leave for

Yokohama until the next morning, he did not disturb

himself about the matter. When Passepartout did not

appear the next morning to answer his master's bell, Mr.

Fogg, not betraying the least vexation, contented himself

with taking his carpet-bag, calling Aouda, and sending for

a palanquin.

It was then eight o'clock; at half-past nine, it being

then high tide, the Carnatic would leave the harbour. Mr.

Fogg and Aouda got into the palanquin, their luggage

being brought after on a wheelbarrow, and half an hour

later stepped upon the quay whence they were to embark.

Mr. Fogg then learned that the Carnatic had sailed the

evening before. He had expected to find not only the

steamer, but his domestic, and was forced to give up both;

but no sign of disappointment appeared on his face, and he

merely remarked to Aouda, 'It is an accident, madam;

nothing more.'

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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

honour—'

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

'Do you know where he is, sir?' asked Aouda

anxiously.

'What!' responded Fix, feigning surprise. 'Is he not

with you?'

'No,' said Aouda. 'He has not made his appearance

since yesterday. Could he have gone on board the

Carnatic without us?'

'Without you, madam?' answered the detective.

'Excuse me, did you intend to sail in the Carnatic?'

'Yes, sir.'

'So did I, madam, and I am excessively disappointed.

The Carnatic, its repairs being completed, left Hong Kong

twelve hours before the stated time, without any notice

being given; and we must now wait a week for another

steamer.'

As he said 'a week' Fix felt his heart leap for joy. Fogg

detained at Hong Kong for a week! There would be time

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for the warrant to arrive, and fortune at last favoured the

representative of the law. His horror may be imagined

when he heard Mr. Fogg say, in his placid voice, 'But

there are other vessels besides the Carnatic, it seems to me,

in the harbour of Hong Kong.'

And, offering his arm to Aouda, he directed his steps

toward the docks in search of some craft about to start.

Fix, stupefied, followed; it seemed as if he were attached

to Mr. Fogg by an invisible thread. Chance, however,

appeared really to have abandoned the man it had hitherto

served so well. For three hours Phileas Fogg wandered

about the docks, with the determination, if necessary, to

charter a vessel to carry him to Yokohama; but he could

only find vessels which were loading or unloading, and

which could not therefore set sail. Fix began to hope

again.

But Mr. Fogg, far from being discouraged, was

continuing his search, resolved not to stop if he had to

resort to Macao, when he was accosted by a sailor on one

of the wharves.

'Is your honour looking for a boat?'

'Have you a boat ready to sail?'

'Yes, your honour; a pilot-boat—No. 43—the best in

the harbour.'

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'Does she go fast?'

'Between eight and nine knots the hour. Will you look

at her?'

'Yes.'

'Your honour will be satisfied with her. Is it for a sea

excursion?'

'No; for a voyage.'

'A voyage?'

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

The sailor leaned on the railing, opened his eyes wide,

and said, 'Is your honour joking?'

'No. I have missed the Carnatic, and I must get to

Yokohama by the 14th at the latest, to take the boat for

San Francisco.'

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

'I offer you a hundred pounds per day, and an

additional reward of two hundred pounds if I reach

Yokohama in time.'

'Are you in earnest?'

'Very much so.'

The pilot walked away a little distance, and gazed out

to sea, evidently struggling between the anxiety to gain a

large sum and the fear of venturing so far. Fix was in

mortal suspense.

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Mr. Fogg turned to Aouda and asked her, 'You would

not be afraid, would you, madam?'

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

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

'Well, pilot?' said Mr. Fogg.

'Well, your honour,' replied he, 'I could not risk

myself, my men, or my little boat of scarcely twenty tons

on so long a voyage at this time of year. Besides, we could

not reach Yokohama in time, for it is sixteen hundred and

sixty miles from Hong Kong.'

'Only sixteen hundred,' said Mr. Fogg.

'It's the same thing.'

Fix breathed more freely.

'But,' added the pilot, 'it might be arranged another

way.'

Fix ceased to breathe at all.

'How?' asked Mr. Fogg.

'By going to Nagasaki, at the extreme south of Japan,

or even to Shanghai, which is only eight hundred miles

from here. In going to Shanghai we should not be forced

to sail wide of the Chinese coast, which would be a great

advantage, as the currents run northward, and would aid

us.

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'Pilot,' said Mr. Fogg, 'I must take the American

steamer at Yokohama, and not at Shanghai or Nagasaki.'

'Why not?' returned the pilot. 'The San Francisco

steamer does not start from Yokohama. It puts in at

Yokohama and Nagasaki, but it starts from Shanghai.'

'You are sure of that?'

'Perfectly.'

'And when does the boat leave Shanghai?'

'On the 11th, at seven in the evening. We have,

therefore, four days before us, that is ninety-six hours; and

in that time, if we had good luck and a south-west wind,

and 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 honour 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 favour.'

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

'But poor Passepartout?' urged Aouda, who was much

disturbed by the servant's disappearance.

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

While Fix, in a feverish, nervous state, repaired to the

pilot-boat, the others directed their course to the police-

station at Hong Kong. Phileas Fogg there gave

Passepartout's description, and left a sum of money to be

spent in the search for him. The same formalities having

been gone through at the French consulate, and the

palanquin having stopped at the hotel for the luggage,

which had been sent back there, they returned to the

wharf.

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

its crew on board, and its provisions stored away, was

ready for departure.

The Tankadere was a neat little craft of twenty tons, as

gracefully built as if she were a racing yacht. Her shining

copper sheathing, her galvanised iron-work, her deck,

white as ivory, betrayed the pride taken by John Bunsby

in making her presentable. Her two masts leaned a trifle

backward; she carried brigantine, foresail, storm-jib, and

standing-jib, and was well rigged for running before the

wind; and she seemed capable of brisk speed, which,

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Around the World in 80 Days

indeed, she had already proved by gaining several prizes in

pilot-boat races. The crew of the Tankadere was

composed of John Bunsby, the master, and four hardy

mariners, who were familiar with the Chinese seas. John

Bunsby, himself, a man of forty-five or thereabouts,

vigorous, sunburnt, with a sprightly expression of the eye,

and energetic and self-reliant countenance, would have

inspired confidence in the most timid.

Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where they

found Fix already installed. Below deck was a square

cabin, of which the walls bulged out in the form of cots,

above a circular divan; in the centre was a table provided

with a swinging lamp. The accommodation was confined,

but neat.

'I am sorry to have nothing better to offer you,' said

Mr. Fogg to Fix, who bowed without responding.

The detective had a feeling akin to humiliation in

profiting by the kindness of Mr. Fogg.

'It's certain,' thought he, 'though rascal as he is, he is a

polite one!'

The sails and the English flag were hoisted at ten

minutes past three. Mr. Fogg and Aouda, who were seated

on deck, cast a last glance at the quay, in the hope of

espying Passepartout. Fix was not without his fears lest

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Adventures of Huckleberry Finn