In which the Red Sea and the
Indian ocean prove propitious
to the designs of Phileas Fogg
The distance between Suez and
Aden is precisely thirteen hundred
and ten miles, and the regulations
of the company allow the steamers
one hundred and thirty-eight
hours in which to traverse it.
The Mongolia, thanks to the vigorous
exertions of the engineer, seemed
likely, so rapid was her speed,
to reach her destination considerably
within that time. The greater
part of the passengers from Brindisi
were bound for India some for
Bombay, others for Calcutta by
way of Bombay, the nearest route
thither, now that a railway crosses
the Indian peninsula. Among the
passengers was a number of officials
and military officers of various
grades, the latter being either
attached to the regular British
forces or commanding the Sepoy
troops, and receiving high salaries
ever since the central government
has assumed the powers of the
East India Company: for the sub-lieutenants
get 280 pounds, brigadiers, 2,400
pounds, and generals of divisions,
4,000 pounds. What with the military
men, a number of rich young Englishmen
on their travels, and the hospitable
efforts of the purser, the time
passed quickly on the Mongolia.
The best of fare was spread upon
the cabin tables at breakfast,
lunch, dinner, and the eight
o'clock supper, and the ladies
scrupulously changed their toilets
twice a day; and the hours were
whirled away, when the sea was
tranquil, with music, dancing,
and games.
But the Red Sea is full of
caprice, and often boisterous,
like most long and narrow gulfs.
When the wind came from the African
or Asian coast the Mongolia,
with her long hull, rolled fearfully.
Then the ladies speedily disappeared
below; the pianos were silent;
singing and dancing suddenly
ceased. Yet the good ship ploughed
straight on, unretarded by wind
or wave, towards the straits
of Bab-el-Mandeb. What was Phileas
Fogg doing all this time? It
might be thought that, in his
anxiety, he would be constantly
watching the changes of the wind,
the disorderly raging of the
billows--every chance, in short,
which might force the Mongolia
to slacken her speed, and thus
interrupt his journey. But, if
he thought of these possibilities,
he did not betray the fact by
any outward sign.
Always the same impassible
member of the Reform Club, whom
no incident could surprise, as
unvarying as the ship's chronometers,
and seldom having the curiosity
even to go upon the deck, he
passed through the memorable
scenes of the Red Sea with cold
indifference; did not care to
recognise the historic towns
and villages which, along its
borders, raised their picturesque
outlines against the sky; and
betrayed no fear of the dangers
of the Arabic Gulf, which the
old historians always spoke of
with horror, and upon which the
ancient navigators never ventured
without propitiating the gods
by ample sacrifices. How did
this eccentric personage pass
his time on the Mongolia? He
made his four hearty meals every
day, regardless of the most persistent
rolling and pitching on the part
of the steamer; and he played
whist indefatigably, for he had
found partners as enthusiastic
in the game as himself. A tax-collector,
on the way to his post at Goa;
the Rev. Decimus Smith, returning
to his parish at Bombay; and
a brigadier-general of the English
army, who was about to rejoin
his brigade at Benares, made
up the party, and, with Mr. Fogg,
played whist by the hour together
in absorbing silence.
As for Passepartout, he, too,
had escaped sea-sickness, and
took his meals conscientiously
in the forward cabin. He rather
enjoyed the voyage, for he was
well fed and well lodged, took
a great interest in the scenes
through which they were passing,
and consoled himself with the
delusion that his master's whim
would end at Bombay. He was pleased,
on the day after leaving Suez,
to find on deck the obliging
person with whom he had walked
and chatted on the quays.
"If I am not mistaken," said
he, approaching this person,
with his most amiable smile, "you
are the gentleman who so kindly
volunteered to guide me at Suez?"
"Ah! I quite
recognise you. You are the
servant of the strange
Englishman--"
"Just so, monsieur--"
"Fix."
"Monsieur Fix," resumed Passepartout, "I'm
charmed to find you on board.
Where are you bound?"
"Like you,
to Bombay."
"That's capital!
Have you made this trip before?"
"Several times.
I am one of the agents of the
Peninsular
Company."
"Then you know
India?"
"Why yes," replied
Fix, who spoke cautiously.
"A curious
place, this India?"
"Oh, very curious.
Mosques, minarets, temples,
fakirs, pagodas,
tigers, snakes, elephants! I
hope you will have ample time
to see the sights."
"I hope so,
Monsieur Fix. You see, a man
of sound sense ought
not to spend his life jumping
from a steamer upon a railway
train, and from a railway train
upon a steamer again, pretending
to make the tour of the world
in eighty days! No; all these
gymnastics, you may be sure,
will cease at Bombay."
"And Mr. Fogg is getting on
well?" asked Fix, in the most
natural tone in the world.
"Quite well,
and I too. I eat like a famished
ogre; it's the
sea air.
"But I never
see your master on deck."
"Never; he
hasn't the least curiosity."
"Do you know,
Mr. Passepartout, that this
pretended tour in eighty
days may conceal some secret
errand--perhaps a diplomatic
mission?"
"Faith, Monsieur
Fix, I assure you I know nothing
about it,
nor would I give half a crown
to find out."
After this meeting, Passepartout
and Fix got into the habit of
chatting together, the latter
making it a point to gain the
worthy man's confidence. He frequently
offered him a glass of whiskey
or pale ale in the steamer bar-room,
which Passepartout never failed
to accept with graceful alacrity,
mentally pronouncing Fix the
best of good fellows.
Meanwhile the Mongolia was
pushing forward rapidly; on the
13th, Mocha, surrounded by its
ruined walls whereon date-trees
were growing, was sighted, and
on the mountains beyond were
espied vast coffee-fields. Passepartout
was ravished to behold this celebrated
place, and thought that, with
its circular walls and dismantled
fort, it looked like an immense
coffee-cup and saucer. The following
night they passed through the
Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which
means in Arabic The Bridge of
Tears, and the next day they
put in at Steamer Point, north-west
of Aden harbour, to take in coal.
This matter of fuelling steamers
is a serious one at such distances
from the coal-mines; it costs
the Peninsular Company some eight
hundred thousand pounds a year.
In these distant seas, coal is
worth three or four pounds sterling
a ton.
The Mongolia had still sixteen
hundred and fifty miles to traverse
before reaching Bombay, and was
obliged to remain four hours
at Steamer Point to coal up.
But this delay, as it was foreseen,
did not affect Phileas Fogg's
programme; besides, the Mongolia,
instead of reaching Aden on the
morning of the 15th, when she
was due, arrived there on the
evening of the 14th, a gain of
fifteen hours.
Mr. Fogg and his servant went
ashore at Aden to have the passport
again visaed; Fix, unobserved,
followed them. The visa procured,
Mr. Fogg returned on board to
resume his former habits; while
Passepartout, according to custom,
sauntered about among the mixed
population of Somanlis, Banyans,
Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans
who comprise the twenty-five
thousand inhabitants of Aden.
He gazed with wonder upon the
fortifications which make this
place the Gibraltar of the Indian
Ocean, and the vast cisterns
where the English engineers were
still at work, two thousand years
after the engineers of Solomon.
"Very curious, very curious," said
Passepartout to himself, on returning
to the steamer. "I see that it
is by no means useless to travel,
if a man wants to see something
new." At six p.m. the Mongolia
slowly moved out of the roadstead,
and was soon once more on the
Indian Ocean. She had a hundred
and sixty-eight hours in which
to reach Bombay, and the sea
was favourable, the wind being
in the north-west, and all sails
aiding the engine. The steamer
rolled but little, the ladies,
in fresh toilets, reappeared
on deck, and the singing and
dancing were resumed. The trip
was being accomplished most successfully,
and Passepartout was enchanted
with the congenial companion
which chance had secured him
in the person of the delightful
Fix. On Sunday, October 20th,
towards noon, they came in sight
of the Indian coast: two hours
later the pilot came on board.
A range of hills lay against
the sky in the horizon, and soon
the rows of palms which adorn
Bombay came distinctly into view.
The steamer entered the road
formed by the islands in the
bay, and at half-past four she
hauled up at the quays of Bombay.
Phileas Fogg was in the act
of finishing the thirty-third
rubber of the voyage, and his
partner and himself having, by
a bold stroke, captured all thirteen
of the tricks, concluded this
fine campaign with a brilliant
victory.
The Mongolia was due at Bombay
on the 22nd; she arrived on the
20th. This was a gain to Phileas
Fogg of two days since his departure
from London, and he calmly entered
the fact in the itinerary, in
the column of gains.
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