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
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."
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 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."
"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.
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.
"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."
"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,
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
chance should direct the steps
of the unfortunate servant, whom
he had so badly treated, in this
direction; in which case an explanation
the reverse of satisfactory to
the detective must have ensued.
But the Frenchman did not appear,
and, without doubt, was still
lying under the stupefying influence
of the opium.
John Bunsby, master, at length
gave the order to start, and
the Tankadere, taking the wind
under her brigantine, foresail,
and standing-jib, bounded briskly
forward over the waves.
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