1 Mr Phileas Fogg and Passepartout

In the year 1872 Mr Phileas Fogg lived at Number 7 Savile Row,

London. Mr Fogg was a member of the Reform Club,* but as he

never spoke about himself, nobody knew much else about him.

He was certainly English, a fine-looking English gentleman. He

was never seen at the bank or any other financial institution in

the city. He was unknown to the world of shipowners and

shipping. He was not a businessman. He was not a farmer. He was

not a scientist. He was not a writer. He seemed to have no

business or trade.

Mr Fogg was a member of the Reform Club, and that was all.

As he seemed to be without friends, it may be wondered how

he had come to be a member of the Reform Club. It was quite

simple. The head of the bank at which he kept his accounts had

put his name on the list of those who wished to become

members, and he was accepted.

Was Phileas Fogg rich?Yes, certainly. But how he had made his

fortune nobody knew, and Mr Fogg was not the sort of man to

tell anybody. He did not spend much money, although he did not

seem to be one of those people who were particularly interested

in saving it.

He talked very little; in fact nobody could have talked less.

There was no secret about his habits and his daily life, but as he

always did exactly the same things in exactly the same way every

day, people wondered more and more about him and his past life.

Had he travelled? Probably, since nobody seemed as familiar

with the world as he did. He appeared to have the most exactknowledge of every country and town in the world. Sometimes

when the members of the club talked about travellers who had

disappeared or become lost in some distant or unknown place,

Mr Fogg, in a few clear words, would explain what had probably

happened to them. His explanations often proved to be quite

correct. He was a man who must have travelled everywhere - at

least in his mind and imagination.

What was quite certain was that for many years Phileas Fogg

had not left London. Those who knew him a little better than

others said that nobody had ever seen him anywhere except in

London. Even in London the only place where he was seen out

of doors was between his house and club. His only activities were

reading the newspapers and playing cards. It was clear that Mr

Fogg played not for money, but for the love of the game. For him

a game of cards was a struggle, but a pleasant one.

Phileas Fogg, it appeared, had neither a wife nor children -

which may happen to the most honest people. Nobody had ever

heard of his father or mother, or whether he had brothers and

sisters. He lived alone in his house in Savile Row, which nobody

ever visited. Nothing was known about the inside of his house.

One servant was enough to do the work. He had his meals at the

club at exactly the same times every day, when he sat in the same

room, at the same table, always alone. He only went home to

sleep, always exactly at midnight.

His home in Savile Row was a simple one, but very

comfortable. Since his habits were so regular, and he spent all day

at his club, his servant's duties were light. But Phileas Fogg

expected from his servant a very high degree of exactness and

regularity.the hot water that he had brought to his master's room was only

eighty-four degrees instead of eighty-six - an inexcusable

mistake. The servant had to go. Mr Fogg was now waiting for his

new servant, who was expected between eleven o'clock and half

past eleven.

Phileas Fogg was sitting in his armchair, his two feet together,

his hands on his knees, his body straight and his head high. He

was looking at the clock - a beautiful clock showing the seconds,

the minutes, the hours, the days and the years. When half past

eleven struck, Mr Fogg, according to his usual habit, would leave

the house and go to his club.

At that moment there was a knock at the door. John Foster

appeared.

'The new servant,' he announced.

A young man of about thirty years of age came in and greeted

Fogg respectfully.

'You are a Frenchman and your name is John?' asked Mr Fogg.

'Jean, if you don't mind,' answered the young man. 'Jean

Passepartout.* My name suits me very well because I can do all

sorts of things. I believe I am a good and honest person but I have

had many trades in my time. I have sung in the streets, I have been

an acrobat and a dancer on a tightrope, and I have taught these

subjects. In Paris I was an officer in the fire service, so I can tell

you stories of some of the most famous fires in that city. I left

France five years ago. Wishing to know something of life in

English homes, I came to England as a servant. Finding myself

now without a situation, I have come to you. I have heard that

you, sir, lead the quietest and most regular life of any man in

England. This will suit me very well for I, too, wish to lead a quiet

life in the future, and even to forget my name of Passepartout.''You will suit me,' answered Mr Fogg. 'I have been told that

you are a good servant and a man to be trusted. You know my

conditions?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Very well. What is the time by your watch?'

'Twenty-five minutes past eleven,' answered Passepartout,

pulling out of his pocket a very large silver watch.

'You are slow,' said Mr Fogg.

'Excuse me, sir, but that is impossible.'

'You are four minutes slow,' said Mr Fogg. 'But it does not

matter so long as you know it. And now, from this moment -

11.29 in the morning, Wednesday, 2nd October, 1872 - you are

in my service.'

Phileas Fogg took his hat with his left hand, put it on his head

with a machine-like movement, and left the house without

another word.

After he had put his right foot in front of his left 575 times,

and his left foot 576 times in front of his right, he reached the fine

building of the Reform Club. In the dining room there he took

his usual place at his usual table. At 12.47 he got up and went

into the reading room, where one of the servants gave him a copy

of The Times newspaper. He read this until 3.45, when he took

up the Standard, and read that until dinner. At 5.40 he was back

again in the reading room, and gave his attention to the Morning

Chronicle. Half an hour later he was joined by a few of the other

members. They began talking about a great bank robbery that

had taken place the day before, in which the robber had stolen

fifty-five thousand pounds in bank notes.

'The bank will lose its money, I think,' said one of them, a man

named Andrew Stuart.

'I don't think so,' said another, Thomas Flanagan. 'The thief will

be caught before long.As all the ports are being carefully watched

by the police, he will find it difficult to leave the country.''The Morning Chronicle thinks that the person who has taken

the money is not an ordinary thief, but an educated man,' said Mr

Fogg.

They went on talking about the chances of the robber being

caught, and of the different ways in which he could escape from

the country.

Some of the gentlemen said that the world was so large that,

if he managed to leave the country, a robber could easily hide

from those who were trying to catch him. But Phileas Fogg did

not agree with them.

'The world,' he said, 'is no longer a big place. Fast ships and

trains have changed everything. For example, we now have the

Suez Canal, and there are railways running across India and the

United States.'

Then they began to talk about how long it would take to go

round the world. Most of them thought that three months would

be needed, but Phileas Fogg said that eighty days would be

enough.

To prove his claim, Mr Fogg took a piece of paper and wrote

down:Mr Stuart said that it was impossible, and offered to bet four

thousand pounds that he was right. Phileas Fogg said that he was

ready to go round the world himself in eighty days; and that he

was ready to start that same evening. He said that he would not

only agree to the bet of four thousand pounds with Mr Stuart,

but that he would be prepared to bet twenty thousand pounds of

his fortune that he could go round the world in eighty days.

His five friends accepted the bet, and Mr Fogg warned them

that they would have to pay for his journey.

'So that is agreed and arranged,' said Mr Fogg. 'I believe

that a train leaves for Dover at 8.45 this evening. I shall travel

by it.'

'This evening?' cried Mr Stuart, in a very surprised voice.

'This evening,' answered Fogg, as calmly as if it were a matter

of going to the next street. 'As this is Wednesday, 2nd October, I

ought to be back in the reading room of the Reform Club on

Saturday, 21st December, at 8.45 in the evening, and ifI am not,

the twenty thousand pounds now in my bank will belong to you

gentlemen.'

Seven o'clock struck as he was speaking, and the others

advised him to hurry off immediately and get ready for his

journey. But he said there was no need for him to leave them just

yet, as he was always ready; and so it was 7.25 before he said

goodbye and left the club.

Twenty-five minutes later he opened the door of his house and

found Passepartout waiting for him.

Passepartout was feeling very happy. He had been examining

the house, and the things in it, and had noticed its strict

organization. Everything showed that his master was a man who

lived a quiet and regular life. It was clear that he never went away

on journeys, and never went hunting or shooting.

'This wiU suit me perfectly,' he said to himself. 'I have had

many years of change and adventure, and I ask for nothing betterthan to lead a quiet and regular life with my new master.

Excellent!'

Just then his master came in.

'We must leave in ten minutes for Dover and Calais,' said

Phileas Fogg. 'We have only eighty days in which to go round the

world, so we must not waste any time.'

The calmness with which he gave this information to his

servant left that good Frenchman almost breathless with surprise.

'Round the world?'

'Yes, round the world.'

'In eighty days?'

'In eighty days.'

'Leaving in ten minutes' time?'

'Exactly.'

'But what about the things we are to take with us? What about

packing?'

'We will take nothing with us except our night clothes.

Everything else we shall buy on the way.'

By eight o'clock Passepartout had done the few things that

were to be done: he had packed a small travelling bag, and had

locked up the rooms. Into the bag Mr Fogg put a large packet of

bank notes; he then told his servant to take care of the bag, as

there were twenty thousand pounds in it.

They locked the front door, crossed the street, hired a carriage,

and drove quickly to Charing Cross Station. At the station the

five members of the Reform Club were waiting to see Phileas

Fogg leave. He explained to them that he had a passport which

he would ask officials to sign at every important place on his

journey, to prove that he had been there.

At 8.45 the train began to move; the journey around the world

had begun.Seven days later, while a small crowd was waiting at Suez for the

steamer Mongolia to arrive, two men were having a serious talk.

One was the British consul, and the other was a thin, impatient

little man whose eyes seemed never at rest. This second man was

Mr Fix, one of the many detectives sent out to the chief ports in

an attempt to catch the bank robber of whom Mr Fogg and his

friends had been talking.

Mr Fix had the idea that the robber might have chosen a new

way of travelling to America and, instead of crossing the Atlantic,

might be going eastwards by way of India and Japan, and so

escape being discovered.

The Mongolia would only stop for a short time at Suez and

would then go on to Bombay. As the passengers came off the

boat, they were all watched very carefully by the detective. One

of those passengers was Passepartout, who had been sent by his

master to get the passport signed by the consul. He went up to

Fix and, showing him the passport, explained that he wanted to

find the consul. Fix took it and examined it closely. As he read on

it the description of Mr Fogg, he became certain that it was the

passport of the man he was trying to catch.

'This passport is not yours, is it?' he asked.

'No,' said the other, 'it belongs to my master.'

'Where is your master?' asked Fix.

'On the ship,' answered Passepartout.

'But he must go himself to the consul's office if he wants the

passport to be signed by the consul. He cannot send anybody

else.'

'Is that so?'

'Certainly.'

'And where is the office?' asked Passepartout.

'Over there,' said the detective, pointing.'Then I will go and inform my master,' said Passepartout, 'but

he won't like having to come himself.'

While Passepartout went back to the boat, the detective

walked quickly to the consul's office, and told the consul what he

thought.

'I am sure,' he said, 'that the man I am looking for is on board

the Mongolia.'

'Very well, Mr Fix,' answered the consul. 'I would rather like to

see him myself. But if he is, as you suppose, the robber, I don't

think that he will come to my office. A thief does not like to

show himself and talk about his business. Besides, passengers need

not show their passports if they don't want to.'

'But,' said Fix, 'he must not be allowed to go on to India. I

must keep him here until I receive from London the warrant for

his arrest.'

'I can't help you,' said the consul. 'If the man's passport is in

order, I cannot stop him from going on to India.'

At that moment two men came into the office. One was

Passepartout and the other was Mr Fogg. Mr Fogg held out the

passport and asked the consul to sign it.

The consul read it carefully, and then said: 'You are Mr Phileas

Fogg?'

'I am.'

'And this man is your servant?'

'Yes.'

'You have come from London?'

'Yes.'

'And you are going ... ?'

'To Bombay.'

'Very well, sir. You know that there is no need for you to bring

this passport here for my signature.'

'I know that,' answered Mr Fogg, 'but I wish to prove, by your

signature, that I have passed through Suez.''Very well,' said the consul, and signed the passport.

A few minutes later Fix found Passepartout alone.

'Well, did you get what you wanted?'

'Oh, it's you, is it, sir? Yes, everything is all right. So this is Suez,

and we are in Egypt.'

'Just so.'

'In Africa, I believe.'

'Yes, in Africa.'

'I wish I could stay longer, and see something of Africa. But

we are travelling so quickly that there's no time for me to stop

and see all these interesting places.'

'Are you in such a hurry, then?' asked Fix.

'No, but my master is. He is in a terrible hurry. We left London

so suddenly that we did not even have time to pack things for our

journey.'

'I can take you to a place where you can buy everything you

need,' offered Fix.

'You are really very kind,' answered Passepartout.

As they walked along, the Frenchman said: 'Above all, I must

not be too late for the boat!'

'You have plenty of time,' answered Fix. 'It's only twelve

o'clock.'

Passepartout pulled out his watch. 'Twelve o'clock,' he said.

'You are joking. It is only eight minutes to ten.'

'Your watch is slow,' answered Fix.

'Slow? My watch? The watch that belonged to my father's

grandfather? My watch that is never wrong? Impossible!'

'I see what is the matter,' answered Fix. 'You have kept it at

London time, which is about two hours earlier than Suez time.

You will have to put it right.'

'Put it right!' cried Passepartout. 'But it isn't wrong!'

'Well, if you don't put the watch right, it will not agree with

the sun.''So much the worse for the sun, then, sir. The sun may be

wrong, but not my watch.'

There was a short silence. Then Fix said, 'Let me see, you were

saying that you left London in a hurry.'

'We certainly did. On Wednesday evening Mr Fogg came back

from his club much earlier than usual, and three-quarters of an

hour later, we had started on our journey.'

'But where is your master going?'

'He is going round the world.'

'Going round the world?' cried Fix.

'Yes, in eighty days. A bet, he says it is, but, between ourselves,

don't believe it. There's something about it that I don't

understand.'

'He seems to be a strange man.'

'He certainly is.'

'Is he rich?'

'He must be, and he is taking a lot of money with him, all in

new bank notes. And he is spending his money, too, I can tell you.'

'Have you known your master a long time?'

'I had never met him until the day we started. That was the day

when I became his servant.'

It is easy to imagine what effect this conversation had on the

mind of the detective, who was already certain that Mr Fogg was

the bank robber. This sudden journey such a short time after the

robbery; this anxiety to reach distant countries, with the excuse

of a strange bet - all this persuaded Fix that he was right. He

encouraged the Frenchman to say more, and so learned that the

servant knew nothing of his master, that Mr Fogg lived alone in

London, that he was known to be rich, that nobody knew where

his fortune came from, that he was a man who never spoke about

himself or his business. Fix discovered, too, that he was in fact

going on to Bombay.

'Is Bombay far?' asked Passepartout.'Yes, quite far,' answered Fix. 'It will take about another ten

days of sailing.'

'And where is Bombay?'

'In India.'

'In Asia?'

'Of course.'

•

Fix went to the consul shortly after this talk. 'I am now quite

certain,' he said, 'that I have got him. He pretends to be trying to

win a strange bet by going round the world in eighty days.'

'Then he's very clever,' said the consul. 'He expects to get back

safely to London after having escaped from the police all over the

world.'

'We shall see,' answered Fix.

'You are sure that you are not mistaken?'

'Quite sure.'

'Then why was he so anxious for me to sign his passport?'

'That's what I don't know,' replied the detective. 'But listen to

this.' And then in a few words he told the consul what he had

learned from Passepartout.

'Yes, it really does seem that he is the man you want,' agreed

the consul. 'What are you going to do?'

'Send a telegram to London, telling the people there to send a

warrant for his arrest to me at Bombay. Then I shall go on board

the Mongolia, follow the thief to India, and there go up to him

politely with the warrant in my hand and put my hand on his

shoulder.'

Fix said goodbye to the consul, sent the telegram, and boarded

the Mongolia. Shortly after that the steamer made its way through

the Red Sea towards India.

Most of the passengers who had joined the Mongolia at Brindisi

were not going further than India. Some were going to Bombay;

others to Calcutta, but by way of Bombay, because a railway had

now been built that ran across the country from west to east, so

there was no need to make the long sea journey by way of

Ceylon.

The day after the boat left Suez, Passepartout happened to see

Fix.

'If I am not mistaken, sir,' said he with a smile, 'you are the one

who so kindly directed me at Suez.'

'Yes, of course, and you are the servant of that strange

Englishman.'

'Just so, Mr ... '

'Fix.'

'Mr Fix, I am pleased to find you on board. Where are you

going?'

'Like you, to Bombay.'

'That's excellent. Have you ever been there before?'

'Well ... yes ... ' answered Fix, who did not want to say too

much.

'Is India an interesting place?' asked Passepartout.

'Very interesting. There are all sorts of lovely things to be seen

there. I hope you will have plenty of time to see the country.'

'I hope so too, Mr Fix. After all, it's a foolish thing to spend

one's life jumping from a ship to a railway and from a railway to

a ship, simply in order to go round the world in eighty days. No,

all that sort of thing will come to an end at Bombay, I feel sure.'

'And is Mr Fogg well?' asked Fix, without seeming to be very

interested.

'Very well,' answered Passepartout, 'and so am I. I eat enough

for three men. It's the sea air that makes me so hungry.'

'I never see your master walking around the ship.'

'No, he doesn't like mixing with other people.'But by this time Passepartout knew that the journey was not

at an end. His master had told him that they would leave for

Calcutta by the evening train, and so he began to think that, after

all, the story of the bet was true, and that they were really going

round the world.

He went for a walk in the streets of Bombay, since he liked to

see all there was to be seen. Unfortunately for him and his master,

though, his wish to see everything resulted in serious trouble.

This is what happened. While making his way towards the

station, Passepartout came to the great temple of Malabar Hill.

The outside of it looked so fine that he decided to go and admire

it from the inside. Now, there were two things that our

sightseeing Frenchman did not know. One of them was this - that

foreigners are not allowed to go inside Indian temples. The other

was that even the Indians themselves are not allowed to enter a

temple with their shoes on; they must take their shoes off and

leave them outside the door.

Passepartout went in, and he did not take his shoes off While

he was admiring the temple from the inside, three priests threw

themselves on him, pulled his shoes off and began to give him a

good beating. Passepartout, strong and active, was easily able to

get up, knock them down, fight his way out of the temple and

run. At five minutes to eight, only a few minutes before the train

left, and without his hat or shoes, he reached the railway station.

Fix was there. He had followed Mr Fogg and discovered that

he was going to leave the town. He decided immediately that he

must follow him to Calcutta, and even further, if necessary.

Passepartout did not notice the detective, but Fix heard the

explanations that he gave to his master and the story of his

adventure.

'Don't let that happen again,' said Phileas Fogg to his servant,

as they took their places in the railway carriage.

Fix was just about to board the train himself when a betterplan came into his mind. 'No, I will stay here,' he said to himself.

'Laws have now been broken here in India. I know what to do. I

have got my man!'

•

Mr Fogg and Passepartout were not the only people in the

railway carriage; there was a third traveller with them. This was

Sir Francis Cromarty, an officer of the Indian Army, who was on

his way to Benares.

On Tuesday morning, 22nd October, Sir Francis happened to

ask Passepartout the time.

Passepartout pulled out his watch and said, 'Three o'clock.'

'Impossible,' said Sir Francis. 'It must be seven o'clock at least.'

'My watch is never wrong,' replied Passepartout.

Sir Francis tried to make him understand that as they were

going towards the east the days became shorter, and each degree

that they passed made a difference of four minutes.

But Passepartout could not understand. His watch must be

right, he said, and the sun must be wrong. His watch said that it

was three o'clock and so it could not be seven o'clock.

As Sir Francis Cromarty became more and more friendly with

his travelling companions, it was not long before he learned the

reason for their journey. He became most interested, and listened

with the greatest care to what Mr Fogg told him.

'You will be very fortunate, Mr Fogg,' he said, 'if you succeed

in getting round the world in eighty days. All sorts of things may

happen that will delay you. An accident; unexpected problems ... '

'No,' answered Mr Fogg, 'in spite of accidents and unexpected

problems, I am certain to succeed.'

'For example,' answered Sir Francis, 'this adventure of your

servant at Bombay. You have no idea how severe the British

government is in such matters. Your servant may be arrested and

punished.'If my servant is arrested and punished for going into a temple

without taking his shoes off, it is his business and not mine. If he

is stopped at Calcutta and put into prison, I shall, of course, be

sorry. But it will not stop me from continuing with my journey.'

'But other things may happen that will delay you,' answered Sir

Francis.

At that moment the train came to a stop, and a voice called: 'All

passengers get down here!'

Passepartout jumped out of the train to see what the matter

was. In a few minutes he came back saying, 'This is the end of the

railway!'

'What do you mean?' asked Sir Francis.

'I mean that the train can go no further.'

The passengers got off the train.

'Where are we?' Sir Francis asked a railway official.

'We are at the village of Kholby.'

'Why are we stopping?'

'This is where the railway line comes to an end.'

'How's that?'

'It is not yet completed. The fifty miles of line between here

and Allahabad have not yet been built.'

'But the newspapers say that the line is complete.'

'I can't help that,' answered the official. 'The newspapers have

made a mistake.'

'But we have paid for the journey from Bombay to Calcutta!'

said Sir Francis.

'But the passengers know that they must find some way of

their own to get from here to Allahabad.'

Sir Francis was very angry, and Passepartout was ready to fight

the railway official.

'Sir Francis,' said Mr Fogg calmly, 'we had better find another

way of getting to Allahabad.'

'Mr Fogg, this is going to put an end to your plan.''Not at all, Sir Francis. I had expected it.'

'What! You knew that the railway was not yet complete?'

'No, but I knew something or other of this sort was certain to

happen. This is not serious; I am two days early. There is a ship

that leaves Calcutta for Hong Kong at twelve o'clock on the

25th; this is only the 22nd, and we shall get to Calcutta in time.'

It was only too true that the railway ended at this point. The

newspapers were mistaken - as they often are. Most of the

passengers had known that the line stopped there, and had already

hired carriages and horses; so when Mr Fogg and Sir Francis went

to find some way of getting to Allahabad, everything had been

taken.

'I shall walk,' said Phileas Fogg.

But Passepartout had been more fortunate. 'I think I have

found a way,' he said.

'And what's that?'

'An elephant. It belongs to an Indian who lives close by.'

'Let's go and see the elephant,' said Mr Fogg.

Five minutes later the three travellers reached a hut, inside

which was an Indian and outside which was an elephant.

Mr Fogg asked if he could hire the animal. The Indian said no.

Fogg asked him again and offered the very high price of ten

pounds an hour. The answer was no. Twenty pounds? No. Forty

pounds? No. Passepartout gave a jump every time the price went

up. If it took fifteen hours to get to Allahabad, the Indian would

receive six hundred pounds.

Phileas Fogg, without showing any signs of impatience, offered

to buy the elephant, and suggested a thousand pounds as the

price. The Indian did not want to sell.

Sir Francis Cromarty took Mr Fogg on one side and advised

him to think the matter over before going any further. Mr Fogg

said that he never thought things over; he always decided things

immediately. He had to win a bet of twenty thousand pounds,and to win it he must have the elephant, even if he paid twenty

times the value of the animal.

Mr Fogg went back to the Indian. It was easy to see by the

look on the man's face that the whole thing was a question of

money. Phileas Fogg offered twelve hundred pounds, then fifteen

hundred, then eighteen hundred, and at last two thousand

pounds.

Then the Indian said he would sell.

The next thing was to find a guide. This was easier. A young

Indian, with a pleasant-looking face, offered his services. Mr Fogg

promised him a good reward, which made his face look even

more pleasant. The Indian knew his business. He fitted a seating

arrangement onto the elephant, with a chair on each side.

Mr Fogg paid the Indian in bank notes, which he took from

his bag. This made Passepartout feel almost ill. Then Mr Fogg

offered to take Sir Francis Cromarty with him to Allahabad, and

his offer was accepted. Food was bought in the village. Sir Francis

took his place on one of the chairs, and Phileas Fogg on the

other. The Indian took his place on the neck of the elephant, and

Passepartout sat at the back.

They started at nine o'clock in the morning and, leaving the

village, took a path that ran through the forest. They travelled all

through the day, and by eight o'clock in the evening they had

already got halfway to Allahabad. They started off at six o'clock

the next morning, and their guide said that they would reach

Allahabad that evening.

At about four o'clock in the afternoon, when they were in the

middle of a thick forest, they suddenly heard strange noises - the

crying of many voices, and the sound of wild music. The guide

stopped, and his face showed his anxiety. He jumped down, tied

the elephant to a tree, and then went quietly into the forest. A few

moments later he came back, saying, 'We must not be seen! Let

us hide; there is danger.' He untied the elephant, and led it to aplace from which the travellers could not be seen.

The noises came nearer and nearer. The travellers watched, not

knowing what they were going to witness. Then a crowd of

priests came into view, half walking and half dancing, half

shouting and half singing. Others came behind them pulling a

sort of platform on wheels. On this was seated a figure in the

shape of a large man or woman with four arms, painted in violent

colours.

Sir Francis knew what it was. 'It is the Goddess Kali, the

Goddess of Love and Death,' he said.

'The Goddess of Death, perhaps,' said Passepartout, 'but the

Goddess of Love - that I can never believe. What an ugly

wornan!'

The Indian made a sign to him to keep quiet.

Behind this some priests were pulling along a woman, who

seemed hardly able to walk. She was young, and very beautiful.

Then came another group of priests carrying a dead body. The

body was dressed in the fine clothes of an Indian prince.

Chapter 4 A Suttee

Sir Francis looked at all this very sadly and, turning towards the

Indian, asked, 'A suttee?'

The Indian answered yes.

When the priests had all passed, and their cnes could no

longer be heard, Mr Fogg turned to Sir Francis and asked him the

meaning of the word 'suttee'.

'A "suttee" ,'he answered, 'is an offering to the gods of the body

of a woman whose husband has died. This poor woman will be

burned tomorrow morning when the sun rises.'

'Oh! What evil people!' cried Passepartout.

'And the dead body?' Mr Fogg asked.'The dead body is that of her husband, the prince,' answered

their guide.

'In most of India,' explained Sir Francis Cromarty, 'this sort of

thing has been stopped. But we can do nothing about it in the

wilder parts.'

'The poor girl!' cried Passepartout. 'To be burned alive!'

'Yes,' said Sir Francis, 'burnt alive, and if she were not, you

would hardly believe what cruelties she would suffer. They would

cut off her hair; they would give her almost nothing to eat; people

would treat her worse than a dog. So many of these unfortunate

women prefer to be burned than to lead such a terrible life. And

there are in fact cases in which the woman offers herself freely. I

remember one such case when a young woman asked to be

burned with the body of her husband. The governor of course

would not allow it. So the woman left the town and went to an

area governed by one of the Indian princes, and there she was

able to die in the way she wished.'

The guide, who had been listening, said, 'The woman we saw

just now, though, is not going to her death because she wants to;

she is being forced to do so.'

'She does not seem to be making any effort to escape,' said Sir

Francis.

The Indian answered, 'They have made her drink or smoke

something that has made her sleepy. She does not know what is

happening.'

'But how do you know,' asked Sir Francis, 'that she is being

forced to go?'

'Everybody round here knows the story,' answered the man.

'She is a girl of great beauty, the daughter of a rich Bombay

trader. Her name is Aouda. Her father and mother died when she

was young, and she was forced to marry this old prince. Three

months later he died. Knowing what would happen to her, she

escaped, but was soon caught. The brother of the prince will getthe prince's fortune if this girl dies, and so he has arranged for her

to be put to death.'

'Where are they taking her?' asked Mr Fogg.

'To the Pillaji temple, two miles from here. She will spend the

night there waiting for the moment when she is to be burned.'

Just as they were going to start their journey again, Mr Fogg

turned to Sir Francis and suggested: 'Let us save this woman.'

'Save this woman, Mr Fogg?' cried Sir Francis.

'I am still twelve hours early,' he answered, 'and I can give those

twelve hours to her.'

'Mr Fogg, you have a very kind heart!'

'Sometimes - when I have time,' answered Mr Fogg, simply.

They decided to go as near to the temple as possible, and half

an hour later they came to a stop among some thick trees. There

they talked about the best plan for saving the girl. The Indian

knew this temple, and said that the girl was inside it. Would it be

possible to go in and take her away while the priests were asleep?

Would it be possible to make a hole in the wall? Such things

could not be decided until the right moment. But there was no

doubt in their minds that if she could be saved, she must be

carried off during the night, and not at the moment when she

was being taken to the place of her death, for then no man could

save her.

•

Mr Fogg and his companions waited for night to fall. When it got

dark, at about six o'clock, they decided to go as far as the temple

to see what could be done. By that time, no more noise was

heard. The Indians must have been drinking or smoking

something that had put them into a deep sleep, so it would

perhaps be possible to enter the temple without being noticed.

The guide went first, and the others followed. Before long they

came to the edge of a stream, and there they saw in front of thempile of wood which had been built up by the Indians. On this

pile of wood lay the body of the prince, which was to be burned

at the same time as the girl whom they were trying to save. A few

hundred feet on the other side of this was the temple.

'Follow me,' said the guide, in a low voice.

Soon they came to a place where the ground was covered with

sleeping Indians. But to their disappointment, they also saw men

who were not asleep and who were on guard, walking up and

down in front of the doors of the temple. The travellers supposed

that there must be men on guard inside, too.

The Indian went no further. He saw the impossibility of

getting into the temple through its entrance, and he went back to

his companions. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty

understood as well as he did that nothing could be done from

that direction, and they talked over the matter in low voices.

'Let us wait,' said Sir Francis. 'It is only eight o'clock, and

perhaps these men will go to sleep too, later.'

'Perhaps they will,' said Passepartout.

So Phileas Fogg and his companions lay down at the foot of a

tree and waited. Time seemed to pass very slowly. The Indian left

them now and again to see what was happening.

At midnight the priests were still on guard. It was clear that

they did not intend to sleep. There was only one thing to be

done, and that was to make a hole in the wall of the temple. But

the question was: would the men inside the temple be watching

the girl as carefully as those outside?

After one final discussion, the Indian said that he was ready to

start. The others followed him.

Half an hour later they reached the back of the temple without

having met anyone. There was no one on guard on this side,

where there were neither doors nor windows.

It was a dark night. The moon was low down in the sky and

almost covered with clouds. The thick trees made it even darker.But it was one thing to get to the wall of the temple, and

another to get inside it. To do this, Phileas Fogg and his

companions had nothing except their pocket knives. Fortunately

the wall was made mainly of wood.

They went to work, making as little noise as possible. The

Indian and Passepartout made an· opening. Suddenly they heard a

cry from inside the temple, and at the same time another cry

could be heard from outside.

The workers stopped. What had happened? Had their work

been noticed? They went back to their hiding place among the

trees and waited. Some time passed. Then they saw that men were

now guarding the back of the temple in which the young girl was

sleeping.

Chapter 5 Saving Aouda

It is difficult to describe the disappointment of the four men.

They had got so near to the woman that they wished to save, but

they could not save her. They had failed in their efforts. Sir

Francis was biting his fingers. Passepartout was in a state of

terrible anger and the Indian had some difficulty in keeping him

quiet. Fogg, though, showed no feelings at all; he was as calm as

ever.

'The only thing that we can do now is to go away,' said Sir

Francis, in a low voice.

'We must go away: that is all that we can do,' agreed the Indian.

Passepartout said nothing.

'Let us wait,' said Phileas Fogg. 'I need not get to Allahabad

before midday tomorrow.'

'But what are you hoping for?' asked Sir Francis. 'In a few

hours daylight will come and then ... '

'The chance that we are hoping for may come at the lastmoment,' answered Fogg.

Sir Francis wondered what Fogg was thinking. What could this

cold Englishman possibly be planning to do? Was he going to

rush up to the young woman and carry her off at the moment

when the Indians were going to burn her? To try to do that

would be crazy. But Phileas Fogg was not crazy, so Sir Francis

decided to trust him and to wait.

The young Indian did not let his companions stay so close to

the temple, but made them come back to the safer place among

the trees from where they could see everything but not be seen

themselves.

But Passepartout, sitting on the lowest branches of a tree, had

an idea, and he began to make a plan. At first he thought, 'What

a stupid plan! It cannot succeed.' But later he thought, 'Why not,

after all? It's a chance, perhaps the only one!' So then he began to

make his way as silently as possible out along the low branches of

the tree, the ends of which bent down towards the ground.

The hours went by, and at last there were signs that the sun

would soon rise. The moment had come. The sleeping men woke

up; the singing and crying started again. The poor girl was now

going to die.

The temple doors opened. Mr Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty

could see her as two priests carried her out. For a second it

looked as if she were going to make an effort to escape, but a

moment later she fell back into the state of sleep caused by

whatever they had forced her to take. The crowd of Indians went

forward towards the pile of wood. Phileas Fogg and his

companions followed. Two minutes later they reached a little

stream, not fifty steps away from the pile on which the dead body

of the prince lay. They could see the young woman lying beside

him.

Oil had been thrown on the wood to make it burn easily. The

priests brought fire, and a moment later the wood began to burn.At that moment Sir Francis and the guide held back Mr Fogg,

who was just about to jump forward towards the fire. He pushed

them away ... and at that point the whole scene changed. Cries

of terror were heard, as all the Indians threw themselves on the

ground.

The old prince was not dead, after all. He was seen to stand up

suddenly, to pick up the young woman in his arms and to come

down from the pile of wood, carrying her out of the clouds of

smoke.

The priests and others turned their faces to the ground: they

did not dare to look at the terrible sight. Mr Fogg and Sir Francis

were in a state of the greatest surprise. The Indian's mouth hung

open, and Passepartout must surely have been equally surprised.

Carrying the girl in his arms, the man who had come to life

again walked quickly towards the travellers, and said, 'Let's go!'

It was Passepartout himself! During the night he had slipped

off the branch and, unnoticed by the Indians, had climbed onto

the pile of wood. There in the darkness he had put on the long

golden coat which he took from the dead body of the prince, and

had lain down beside the body. In this way, when the right

moment came, he was able to do what has just been described.

Acting with the greatest daring, he was fortunate enough to

succeed. A moment later the four men disappeared into the

forest, the elephant carrying them away as fast as it could go.

But the cries and shouts behind them told them that the trick

had been discovered. For on the pile of burning wood the real

body of the old prince could now be clearly seen. The priests

were returning to their senses and realizing that the young

woman had been carried off They tried to follow and to catch

the travellers, but they were too late.

An hour later Passepartout was still laughing over his success.

Sir Francis had taken the brave man by the hand. His master had

said 'Well done', which, from him, was very high praise.Passepartout answered that all the honour of the affair belonged

to his master. He could only see the funny part of the business,

and laughed to think that he had been the dead husband of a

beautiful woman: an old Indian prince!

As for the girl, she had no idea of what had happened. She was

still asleep.

The elephant moved quickly through the forest, and an hour

after leaving the temple the travellers came to a stretch of flat

country.At seven o'clock they stopped to rest.The young woman

was still in the same state, but Sir Francis had no anxiety about

her condition; he knew that in a few hours she would come to

her senses and be all right. What he was afraid of was her future.

He told Mr Fogg that if Aouda stayed in India, she would

certainly, in the end, be caught again by those who wanted to kill

her. She would be safe only when she was out of the country.

Phileas Fogg answered that he would give the matter serious

consideration.

At ten o'clock they reached Allahabad. From this point the

railway started again, and trains ran in less than twenty-four hours

from here to Calcutta. Phileas Fogg should, then, get to Calcutta

in time to catch the boat that left there the next day, 25th

October, at midday, for Hong Kong.

Mr Fogg found a room at the station for the young woman to

rest in, and sent Passepartout to buy the clothes and other things

that she would need. By the time the servant got back to the

station, having enjoyed as many of the sights as possible along the

way, Aouda was already much better. She was now awake, and

understood, more or less, what had happened. She was certainly

beautiful. She spoke English perfectly, and was in every way a

lovely and educated woman.The train was just about to leave Allahabad Station, and the

Indian guide was waiting for his wages. Mr Fogg gave him the

money he had promised, and no more, which rather surprised

Passepartout, who knew how helpful the man had been. In fact,

if the priests of the Pillaji temple later came to hear how he had

helped in carrying off the woman that they were going to burn,

they would never forgive him, and his life would be in danger.

Then there was the question of the elephant. What was to be

done with this animal that had been bought at such a high price?

But Phileas Fogg had already come to a decision. He turned

to the Indian and said: 'You have been useful and kind. I have paid

you for your service but not for your honesty and loyalty. Do you

want this elephant? If so, it is yours.'

'You are giving me a fortune!' the man cried in answer.

'Take it, and even then I shall feel that I owe you something.'

'Excellent!' cried Passepartout. 'Take it, my friend. It is your

reward!'

•

A few minutes later, Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty and

Passepartout, together with Aouda, were in a comfortable railway

carriage making their way towards Benares. This town was eighty

miles away from Allahabad, but they reached it in two hours.

During this journey the young woman returned completely to

her health and senses. It may be better imagined than described

how surprised she was to find herself dressed in European

clothes, in a comfortable railway carriage, among companions

who were total strangers to her! Sir Francis Cromarty told her the

story of how she had been saved. He spoke of the great kindness

of Phileas Fogg, who had put his life in danger to save her, and of

how the daring plan of Passepartout had succeeded.In answer to these praises Mr Fogg said nothing, and

Passepartout said simply, 'Oh, it's not worth talking about!'

Aouda thanked those who had saved her, more by her tears

than by her words. Then, as she thought of the terrible time

through which she had passed, and of the continuing danger she

faced in India, she was frightened.

Phileas Fogg understood what she was thinking, and to put her

mind at rest and comfort her, offered - in his coldest manner -

to take her to Hong Kong, where she could stay until everything

had been forgotten. Aouda accepted the offer gratefully. By

chance one of her uncles lived there and was one of the chief

traders of that small British island.

At half past twelve the train stopped at Benares. Here Sir

Francis Cromarty left them, after wishing them every success on

their journey.

'I hope that you reach London in time to win your bet,' he

said.

Aouda said that she would never forget how much he had

helped in saving her from a terrible death. Passepartout shook

hands with him with such force that Sir Francis almost cried out

in pain. Mr Fogg touched his hand lightly, and said, 'Thank you.'

The train continued towards Calcutta, and arrived there the

next morning at seven o'clock. The boat did not leave until

midday, and so Mr Fogg was five hours early.

As the travellers were leaving the station, a policeman came up

to their leader and said: 'Mr Phileas Fogg?'

'Yes,' he answered, 'that is my name.'

'Is this man your servant?' asked the policeman.

'Yes.'

'Please follow me, both of you.'

Mr Fogg made no movement of surprise. The policeman was

an officer of the law, and for every Englishman the law is

something to be obeyed. Passepartout, being a Frenchman, tried toargue. But the policeman tapped him with his stick, and Phileas

Fogg ordered him to obey.

'May this young lady come with us?' asked Mr Fogg.

'She may,' answered the policeman.

The policeman led them towards a four-wheeled carriage

with two horses.They got in and drove off. Nobody spoke during

the journey, which lasted about twenty minutes.

At the police station they were taken into a room and told that

they would be brought before a judge at half past eight. The

policeman then left them, locking the door behind him.

'Well, we're caught!' cried Passepartout.

Aouda turned to Mr Fogg, saying, 'You must leave me! It is

because of me that the police have taken you! It is because you

saved me!'

Fogg answered simply that that was not possible. To be brought

before a judge for having saved a woman from those who were

going to burn her? Impossible. There must be a mistake. Mr Fogg

added that in any case he would not leave Aouda behind, and that

he would take her with him to Hong Kong.

'But the boat leaves at twelve o'clock!' said Passepartout.

'Before twelve o'clock we shall be on board the boat,'

answered Mr Fogg.

He said it so seriously and naturally that Passepartout could

not help saying to himself, 'Yes, of course, that is certain. Before

twelve o'clock we shall be on board.'

At half past eight the door opened. The policeman came in

and then took the prisoners to the courtroom. The judge

appeared a few moments later, and sat down.

'Call the first case,' he said.

'Phileas Fogg!' called out an officer.

'I am here,' answered Fogg.

'Passepartout!'

'I am here!' answered Passepartout.'Very well,' said the judge. 'For the last two days we have been

watching the trains from Bombay.'

'But why?' asked Passepartout. 'What have we done?'

'You will see,' said the judge. 'Call the priests.'

The door was opened, and three Indian priests came into the

hall.

'That's what it is!' said Passepartout to himself. 'Those are the

ones who were going to burn our young lady!'

The priests stood in front of the judge, while the official read

out the complaint - that Phileas Fogg and his servant had broken

the law by behaving in a violent and disorderly way while on land

which formed part of a temple.

'You have heard the complaint?' asked the judge.

'I have,' answered Mr Fogg, looking at his watch.

'Is it true?'

'Yes, it is true, and I am waiting to hear those priests tell you

what they were going to do at the Pillaji temple when we

stopped them.'

The priests looked at each other in surprise. They seemed not

to understand what Fogg had said.

'Yes!' cried Passepartout impatiently. 'At the temple of Pillaji,

where they were going to burn the poor girl!'

The priests looked more and more surprised, and the judge

was totally confused.

'Burn who?' asked the judge. 'Who were they going to burn

in the middle of the town of Bombay?'

'Bombay?' cried Passepartout.

'Yes, of course. We know nothing about the temple of Pillaji;

we are talking about the temple of Malabar Hill, in Bombay.'

'And in proof,' added the official, 'here are the shoes.' And he

held up the shoes.

'My shoes!' cried Passepartout.

Phileas Fogg and his servant had quite forgotten what hadhappened at the temple in Bombay, but it was this that was the

cause of their being brought in front of the judge in Calcutta.

Fix had realized immediately how he could make use of the

business of the shoes. He had been to the Bombay temple and

had advised the priests to make a complaint to the government.

If they did this, the man who had gone into the temple with his

shoes on, and then knocked down the priests, would be forced to

pay them a large sum of money. The priests had agreed, and had

come with Fix to Calcutta by the next train.

Because of the time that Fogg and his companions had spent

saving the young girl, Fix and the priests had reached Calcutta

first. Fix had sent a telegram from Bombay to the Calcutta police,

telling them to stop Mr Fogg and Passepartout when they got off

the train, so he was very disappointed when he learned that

nothing had been seen of them. He then thought that they had

got off at one of the stations and were making their way towards

the south of India.

For twenty-four hours, suffering from terrible anxiety, he had

been watching at the station. That morning his patience had been

rewarded when he saw the two men get off the train. He

immediately ordered a policeman to stop them and to bring

them to court. But who the woman was, and how she had come

to join them, was more than he could understand.

If Passepartout had been paying less attention to his own

business, he would have seen Mr Fix, sitting in a corner and

listening with the greatest interest to everything that was said. For

at Calcutta, as at Bombay and Suez, the warrant for Mr Fogg's

arrest had not yet reached him.

The judge noted that Passepartout had said that the shoes were

his.

'You agree, then,' said the judge, 'that what has been said is

true. You were inside the temple and you had not taken off your

shoes.'

'Yes,' said Passepartout.

'According to English law,' the judge went on, 'the ideas of the

Indians in such matters must be respected. It has been proved that

you behaved in a disrespectful and disorderly way in the temple

on Malabar Hill, Bombay, on 20th October. For this you will be

kept in prison for fourteen days, and you must pay three hundred

pounds.'

'Three hundred pounds?' cried Passepartout.

'And,' added the judge, 'although it has not been proved that

Phileas Fogg had anything to do with the matter, he is the master

of this man, and so must suffer for the fault of his servant. You will

be kept in prison for seven days and pay a fine of a hundred and

fifty pounds.'

Fix, in his corner, was very happy. The warrant would certainly

come before the seven days had passed.

Passepartout was in a terrible state, as may be imagined. His

master's plans had failed; the bet would be lost, and so would Mr

Fogg's whole fortune. And all because, like a fool, he had gone

into that temple.

Mr Fogg showed no sign of disappointment. He said, calmly, 'I

offer bail.'

'You have the right to do so,' agreed the judge.

This did not suit Mr Fix at all, but he felt no anxiety when he

heard the judge say, 'As Phileas Fogg and his servant are strangers,

the amount of bail will be one thousand pounds for each of

them.'

'I will pay it,' said Mr Fogg. And out of the bag that

Passepartout was carrying he took a packet of bank notes and put

it on the table in front of the court official!

'This money will be given back to you when you have served

your time in prison,' said the judge. 'For now, you are out on

bail.'

'Come along,' said Phileas Fogg to his servant.'But at least they must give me back my shoes!' cried

Passepartout, in an angry voice.

They gave him his shoes.

'They have cost a lot of money,' he said. 'More than a thousand

pounds each! And they do not fit very well, either.'

Passepartout, in a very unhappy state of mind, followed Mr

Fogg, who had offered his arm to Aouda. Fix still hoped that the

robber (as he thought Mr Fogg to be) would never agree to lose

the two thousand pounds, and that he would go to prison for

seven days. All the same, he followed him closely.

Mr Fogg took a carriage, and Aouda, Passepartout and he took

their places in it. Fix ran behind it until they reached the port,

where the carriage stopped. Half a mile out to sea was the

steamer Rangoon. It was eleven o'clock, and Mr Fogg was one

hour early.

Fix saw him get down from the carriage and, with his

companions, take his place in a boat which set off immediately in

the direction of the Rangoon. The detective stamped his feet with

disappointment.

'He has gone!' he cried. 'And two thousand pounds have gone

too! The thief! I will follow him to the end of the world, but at

the rate he is spending the money, there will be nothing left of

what he has stolen!'

The detective had some reason for thinking this. Mr Fogg had,

as a matter of fact, spent more than five thousand pounds since he

had left London - and as the money grew less, so also did any

reward that the detective could hope for when this affair was

over.The Rangoon was a fine iron steamship, as fast as the Mongolia but

not as comfortable. It was, though, only 3,500 miles from

Calcutta to Hong Kong - which meant only eleven or twelve

days at sea.

Aouda came to know Phileas Fogg much better, and told him

how grateful she was to him for having saved her and for taking

so much care of her. She told Mr Fogg the story of her life, and

spoke about her uncles, who were rich traders, one in Bombay,

and the other - whom she was going to join - in Hong Kong.

Mr Fogg listened to her in what seemed to be a very cold and

distant way, and showed no sign of any friendly feelings towards

her. He treated her, of course, with the greatest politeness, but it

was the politeness of a machine. He made sure that she had

everything she needed for her comfort and came regularly to see

her. If he did not talk much, he at least listened to her. Aouda

found it difficult to understand his behaviour, but Passepartout

explained to her something of his master's ways and habits. He

told her, too, the reason for his journey round the world.

The weather was fine and the sea was calm, and the steamer

made its way across the Bay of Bengal in the direction of

Singapore.

The day before the Rangoon reached Singapore, Passepartout

suddenly found himself face to face with Mr Fix.

'Mr Fix! What are you doing here? I thought you were in

Bombay. Are you travelling round the world, too?'

'Oh, no!' answered Fix. 'I expect to stop at Hong Kong - at

least for a few days.'

'But how is it that I haven't seen you on board between

Calcutta and here?'

'Oh, I haven't been feeling very well and so stayed in my cabin.

And how is your master, Mr Phileas Fogg?''He is quite well, thank you, and not a day late in his journey.

Ah, Mr Fix; here is something you don't know. We have a young

lady with us.'

'A young lady?' said Fix, who looked as ifhe had no idea what

Passepartout meant.

Passepartout then told him the story. He told him about the

adventure in Bombay, buying the elephant at the price of two

thousand pounds, saving Aouda in the forest, and how they had

been stopped at Calcutta.

Fix, who certainly knew the last part of the story, acted as ifhe

knew nothing at all.

'But,' asked Fix, 'does your master mean to take this lady to

Europe with him?'

'No, Mr Fix, no. We are simply going to leave her in the care

of her uncle, a rich trader in Hong Kong.'

Fix was disappointed. He had thought that this business of the

saving of Aouda would give him the chance to make fresh trouble

for Mr Fogg at Hong Kong.

'May I offer you something to drink, Mr Passepartout?'

'Thank you; you may,' answered the Frenchman.

After this reunion, the detective and Passepartout met

frequently. Fix did not try to get any more information out of his

companion and only caught sight of Mr Fogg once or twice as

he sat in the cabin talking to Aouda or playing cards.

Passepartout began to wonder very seriously about the strange

chance that kept Fix with them.And it really was surprising. Here

was this very kind gentleman, whom he met first at Suez, sailing

on the Mongolia, getting off at Bombay where he was supposed to

stay, then appearing on the Rangoon on his way to Hong Kong.

In fact, here he was following Mr Fogg step by step. It was worth

thinking about. It was most strange. Passepartout felt certain that

Fix would leave Hong Kong at the same time as Mr Fogg, and

probably by the same steamer.If Passepartout had thought about the matter for a hundred

years, he would never have guessed the real reason why his master

was being followed. He would never have imagined that Mr Fogg

was being chased round the world because he was believed to be

a robber. But it is human nature to find an explanation for

everything, and Passepartout found an explanation that seemed

very reasonable. Fix, he felt sure, had been sent by the members

of the Reform Club to see that the journey was carried out fairly

and according to the agreement.

'It must be that!' he said to himself, proud at his cleverness. 'He

has been sent secretly to make sure that my master is not

cheating. That is not right. Ah! Gentlemen of the Reform Club,

you will be sorry for this!'

Pleased with his discovery, Passepartout made up his mind, all

the same, to say nothing to his master about it, fearing that Mr

Fogg's feelings would be hurt by this distrust of his honesty. But

he promised himself that he would play some tricks on Mr Fix .

•

On Wednesday afternoon, 30th October, the Rangoon passed

through the narrow stretch of water which separates the island of

Sumatra from the country of the Malays. Beautiful little islands,

with their steep mountain sides, hid the view of Sumatra from the

passengers.

At four o'clock the next morning the Rangoon, having arrived

half a day earlier than usual, stopped at Singapore to take on more

coal. Phileas Fogg marked this gain in his notebook and went on

shore with Aouda, who wished to go for a short walk. Fix,

distrusting every action of Fogg's, followed him secretly.

Passepartout was amused to see him doing this, and went on

shore to buy some fresh food.

The island of Singapore is neither large nor particularly

striking in appearance, since there are no mountains; it is not,though, unattractive. After a pleasant drive of two hours among

the woods and hills, Aouda and her companion returned to the

town, and at ten o'clock went back on board the boat - followed

by the detective, who had, of course, never lost sight of them.

Passepartout was waiting for them on the Rangoon. He had been

buying quantities of the fruits of the country, and offered some

to Aouda, who was very grateful for them.

At eleven o'clock the Rangoon, having taken on more coal,

steamed out of the port, and a few hours later the passengers

could see no more of the high mountains and forests of Malacca.

Thirteen hundred miles separate Singapore from Hong Kong,

a small British island lying off the coast of China. Phileas Fogg

expected to spend no more than six days in getting there, so that

he could take the boat that left Hong Kong on 6th November for

Yokohama, one of the chief towns of Japan.

The weather, which had been fairly good up to then, changed

when the moon entered its last quarter, and the sea became

rough. At times there was a strong wind - and fortunately it blew

from the south-east, the right direction for the ship. The captain

often raised the sails, and with these and the steam the ship went

forward at great speed past the coasts of Annam and Cochin

China.

The ship still did not go fast enough to please Passepartout,

since special care had to be taken in bad weather, which slowed

them down. He felt angry with the captain, the engineer and the

shipping company. Mr Fogg, on the other hand, showed no

impatience or anxiety at all.

'You seem to be in a great hurry to get to Hong Kong,' said

Mr Fix to Passepartout one day.

'Yes, in a great hurry,' answered Passepartout.

'You think that Mr Fogg is anxious to catch the boat to

Yokohama?'

'Terribly anxious.''Then you believe in this journey round the world?'

'I do. Don't you, Mr Fix?'

'No, I don't!'

'You old devil!' answered Passepartout.

This answer made the detective wonder what he meant. He

felt rather worried without quite knowing why. Had the

Frenchman guessed who he was? He hardly knew what to think.

Passepartout could not have guessed his secret, but what he said

certainly meant something.

Another day Passepartout went even further. He could not

help saying: 'When we get to Hong Kong, Mr Fix, I wonder

whether we shall have the misfortune to leave you there?'

'Well,' answered Fix, not quite knowing what to say, 'I hardly

know; perhaps ... '

'Ah!' said Passepartout. 'If you come with us, I shall be very

pleased. Come now! As you are a servant of the shipping

company, you can hardly leave us during the journey, can you?

First you were only going as far as Bombay, and now you will

soon be in China! America isn't far, and from America to Europe

is only a step!'

Fix looked carefully at Passepartout, on whose face there was

a most pleasant smile, and decided to treat what he said as a joke.

But Passepartout could not stop, and went on: 'Do you get much

money for your sort of work?'

'Yes and no,' answered Fix. 'There are good times and bad. But

of course I travel free.'

'Oh, I'm sure you do,' cried Passepartout with a laugh.

After this talk Fix went back to his cabin and began to think.

Passepartout had certainly guessed who he was. In some way or

other Passepartout had come to know that he was a detective. But

had he told his master? What was Passepartout's part in this

business? Was he himself one of the bank robbers? Did

Passepartout and his master know everything? In that case he,Fix, had lost the game.

Fix spent several hours worrying, sometimes believing that all

was lost and sometimes hoping that Fogg knew nothing of the

real state of things. He could not make up his mind how to act

for the best.

In the end he decided he would speak openly to Passepartout

ifhe could not manage to arrest Fogg at Hong Kong, and if Fogg

was not going to stay on that island. He, Fix, would then tell

Passepartout everything. Either the servant was one of the

robbers or he was not. If he was, then Fix could not succeed; if

he was not, then it would be in Passepartout's interest to help Fix

to arrest Fogg.

That is how matters stood between those two men, but what

about Fogg and Aouda? Passepartout could not make it out. She

was clearly very grateful towards the Englishman, but what were

Fogg's feelings towards her? He was certainly ready at all times to

protect her, but he was equally certainly not in love with her.And

Fogg did not seem to worry at all about his chances of winning

or losing the bet; the one who worried continually was

Passepartout.

One day he was watching the powerful engines.

'There isn't enough steam,' he cried. 'We are not moving!

These Englishmen are afraid of using steam. Ah, if this were an

American ship, the engines would perhaps blow up, but we

would move faster!'

•

During the last days of this journey the weather was terrible. The

wind blew harder and harder from the north-west - which was

the wrong direction. The ship rolled in the rough sea, and the

passengers were very uncomfortable.

On 3rd and 4th November the sea was rougher still, and

progress was even slower. If the wind did not drop, the ship wouldbe at least twenty hours late. Then it would be too late to catch

the steamer to Yokohama. But Phileas Fogg did not seem to be at

all worried.

Fix was very pleased. If the Rangoon reached Hong Kong after

the Yokohama steamer had left, Fogg would have to stay on the

island for a few days. So he welcomed the grey sky and the winds.

He was rather seasick, it is true, but that did not matter.

But the impatience of Passepartout can easily be imagined. It

was impossible for him to stay below. He climbed up the masts

and helped with the sails. He jumped from rope to rope and

amused the sailors by his acrobatic tricks. He questioned the

captain, the officers and the sailors, who could not help laughing

at his anxiety. He wanted to know exactly how long the bad

weather would last.

Finally the wind died down and blew from the right direction.

During the day of 5th November the sea grew calmer.

Passepartout grew calmer too, as the ship increased its speed.

But it was impossible to make up for the lost time. There was

nothing to be done, and land was not seen until the 6th, at five

o'clock in the morning. Phileas Fogg had expected to reach

Hong Kong on the 5th. He was twenty-four hours late. He

would certainly not be able to catch the steamer for Yokohama.

At six o'clock the pilot came on board the Rangoon to help

guide the ship into port. Passepartout was most anxious to go and

ask him whether the Yokohama steamer had left. But he dared not

do so, preferring to hold onto his hopes until the last moment.

He had spoken about his fears to Fix, who had tried to comfort

him.

'There is nothing to worry about,' he said. 'If your master does

not catch the boat for Yokohama, he only has to take the next

one.'

This answer had made Passepartout angry.

But if Passepartout dared not question the pilot, Mr Fogg did.He asked when the next boat would leave Hong Kong for

Yokohama.

'Tomorrow morning,' answered the pilot.

'Ah,' said Mr Fogg, without showing any surprise.

Passepartout heard these words, and wanted to throw his arms

lovingly round the pilot's neck. Fix heard the answer, too, but he

would have preferred to break the pilot's neck.

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

'The Carnatic,' answered the pilot.

'But wasn't the Carnatic to leave yesterday?'

'Yes, sir, but one of its boilers had to be repaired, and so the

boat will not sail until tomorrow.'

'Thank you,' answered Mr Fogg, and went down below.

Passepartout took the pilot's hand and shook it with violence,

saying, 'You are a lovely man!'

The pilot probably never knew why Passepartout was so

pleased with him; he went calmly on with his duties.

At one o'clock the Rangoon tied up, and the passengers landed.

It must be said that Phileas Fogg had been extremely fortunate.

Without the necessary repair to its boiler, the Carnatic would have

left Hong Kong the day before, and passengers for Japan would

have had to wait a week for the next ship. Mr Fogg was twenty-

four hours late, but this would not be a very serious matter. The

steamer from Yokohama to San Francisco would have to wait for

the Carnatic since it connected with the Hong Kong boat, but no

doubt it would be easy to make up for the twenty-four hours

during the crossing of the Pacific.