Chapter 24

Jules Verne2016年11月03日'Command+D' Bookmark this page

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During which Mr. Fogg and party cross the Pacific ocean

What happened when the pilot-boat came in sight of Shanghai will
be easily guessed. The signals made by the Tankadere had been
seen by the captain of the Yokohama steamer, who, espying the flag
at half-mast, had directed his course towards the little craft.
Phileas Fogg, after paying the stipulated price of his passage to
John Busby, and rewarding that worthy with the additional sum of
five hundred and fifty pounds, ascended the steamer with Aouda
and Fix; and they started at once for Nagasaki and Yokohama.

They reached their destination on the morning of the 14th of November.
Phileas Fogg lost no time in going on board the Carnatic, where he learned,
to Aouda’s great delight–and perhaps to his own, though he betrayed
no emotion–that Passepartout, a Frenchman, had really arrived on her
the day before.

The San Francisco steamer was announced to leave that very evening,
and it became necessary to find Passepartout, if possible, without delay.
Mr. Fogg applied in vain to the French and English consuls, and,
after wandering through the streets a long time, began to despair
of finding his missing servant. Chance, or perhaps a kind of presentiment,
at last led him into the Honourable Mr. Batulcar’s theatre. He certainly
would not have recognised Passepartout in the eccentric mountebank’s costume;
but the latter, lying on his back, perceived his master in the gallery.
He could not help starting, which so changed the position of his nose
as to bring the “pyramid” pell-mell upon the stage.

All this Passepartout learned from Aouda, who recounted to him
what had taken place on the voyage from Hong Kong to Shanghai
on the Tankadere, in company with one Mr. Fix.

Passepartout did not change countenance on hearing this name.
He thought that the time had not yet arrived to divulge to his
master what had taken place between the detective and himself;
and, in the account he gave of his absence, he simply excused himself
for having been overtaken by drunkenness, in smoking opium
at a tavern in Hong Kong.

Mr. Fogg heard this narrative coldly, without a word; and then
furnished his man with funds necessary to obtain clothing more
in harmony with his position. Within an hour the Frenchman had
cut off his nose and parted with his wings, and retained nothing
about him which recalled the sectary of the god Tingou.

The steamer which was about to depart from Yokohama to San Francisco
belonged to the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, and was named
the General Grant. She was a large paddle-wheel steamer
of two thousand five hundred tons; well equipped and very fast.
The massive walking-beam rose and fell above the deck;
at one end a piston-rod worked up and down; and at the other
was a connecting-rod which, in changing the rectilinear motion
to a circular one, was directly connected with the shaft of the paddles.
The General Grant was rigged with three masts, giving a large capacity
for sails, and thus materially aiding the steam power. By making
twelve miles an hour, she would cross the ocean in twenty-one days.
Phileas Fogg was therefore justified in hoping that he would reach
San Francisco by the 2nd of December, New York by the 11th,
and London on the 20th–thus gaining several hours on the fatal date
of the 21st of December.

There was a full complement of passengers on board, among them English,
many Americans, a large number of coolies on their way to California,
and several East Indian officers, who were spending their vacation
in making the tour of the world. Nothing of moment happened on the voyage;
the steamer, sustained on its large paddles, rolled but little,
and the Pacific almost justified its name. Mr. Fogg was as calm
and taciturn as ever. His young companion felt herself more and more
attached to him by other ties than gratitude; his silent but generous nature
impressed her more than she thought; and it was almost unconsciously that
she yielded to emotions which did not seem to have the least effect upon
her protector. Aouda took the keenest interest in his plans, and became
impatient at any incident which seemed likely to retard his journey.

She often chatted with Passepartout, who did not fail to perceive
the state of the lady’s heart; and, being the most faithful of domestics,
he never exhausted his eulogies of Phileas Fogg’s honesty, generosity,
and devotion. He took pains to calm Aouda’s doubts of a successful
termination of the journey, telling her that the most difficult part
of it had passed, that now they were beyond the fantastic countries
of Japan and China, and were fairly on their way to civilised places again.
A railway train from San Francisco to New York, and a transatlantic steamer
from New York to Liverpool, would doubtless bring them to the end of this
impossible journey round the world within the period agreed upon.

On the ninth day after leaving Yokohama, Phileas Fogg had traversed exactly
one half of the terrestrial globe. The General Grant passed, on the 23rd
of November, the one hundred and eightieth meridian, and was at the very
antipodes of London. Mr. Fogg had, it is true, exhausted fifty-two
of the eighty days in which he was to complete the tour, and there were
only twenty-eight left. But, though he was only half-way by the
difference of meridians, he had really gone over two-thirds of the
whole journey; for he had been obliged to make long circuits from
London to Aden, from Aden to Bombay, from Calcutta to Singapore,
and from Singapore to Yokohama. Could he have followed without
deviation the fiftieth parallel, which is that of London,
the whole distance would only have been about twelve thousand miles;
whereas he would be forced, by the irregular methods of locomotion,
to traverse twenty-six thousand, of which he had, on the 23rd of November,
accomplished seventeen thousand five hundred. And now the course was
a straight one, and Fix was no longer there to put obstacles in their way!

It happened also, on the 23rd of November, that Passepartout
made a joyful discovery. It will be remembered that the obstinate
fellow had insisted on keeping his famous family watch at London time,
and on regarding that of the countries he had passed through as quite false
and unreliable. Now, on this day, though he had not changed the hands,
he found that his watch exactly agreed with the ship’s chronometers.
His triumph was hilarious. He would have liked to know what Fix
would say if he were aboard!

“The rogue told me a lot of stories,” repeated Passepartout,
“about the meridians, the sun, and the moon! Moon, indeed!
moonshine more likely! If one listened to that sort of people,
a pretty sort of time one would keep! I was sure that the sun
would some day regulate itself by my watch!”

Passepartout was ignorant that, if the face of his watch had
been divided into twenty-four hours, like the Italian clocks,
he would have no reason for exultation; for the hands of his watch
would then, instead of as now indicating nine o’clock in the morning,
indicate nine o’clock in the evening, that is, the twenty-first hour
after midnight precisely the difference between London time and that
of the one hundred and eightieth meridian. But if Fix had been able
to explain this purely physical effect, Passepartout would not have admitted,
even if he had comprehended it. Moreover, if the detective had been on board
at that moment, Passepartout would have joined issue with him on a quite
different subject, and in an entirely different manner.

Where was Fix at that moment?

He was actually on board the General Grant.

On reaching Yokohama, the detective, leaving Mr. Fogg, whom he expected
to meet again during the day, had repaired at once to the English consulate,
where he at last found the warrant of arrest. It had followed him from Bombay,
and had come by the Carnatic, on which steamer he himself was supposed to be.
Fix’s disappointment may be imagined when he reflected that the warrant was
now useless. Mr. Fogg had left English ground, and it was now necessary
to procure his extradition!

“Well,” thought Fix, after a moment of anger, “my warrant is not good here,
but it will be in England. The rogue evidently intends to return to his
own country, thinking he has thrown the police off his track. Good!
I will follow him across the Atlantic. As for the money, heaven grant
there may be some left! But the fellow has already spent in travelling,
rewards, trials, bail, elephants, and all sorts of charges, more than
five thousand pounds. Yet, after all, the Bank is rich!”

His course decided on, he went on board the General Grant,
and was there when Mr. Fogg and Aouda arrived. To his utter
amazement, he recognised Passepartout, despite his theatrical disguise.
He quickly concealed himself in his cabin, to avoid an awkward explanation,
and hoped–thanks to the number of passengers–to remain unperceived
by Mr. Fogg’s servant.

On that very day, however, he met Passepartout face to face
on the forward deck. The latter, without a word,
made a rush for him, grasped him by the throat,
and, much to the amusement of a group of Americans,
who immediately began to bet on him, administered
to the detective a perfect volley of blows,
which proved the great superiority of French
over English pugilistic skill.

When Passepartout had finished, he found himself relieved
and comforted. Fix got up in a somewhat rumpled condition,
and, looking at his adversary, coldly said, “Have you done?”

“For this time–yes.”

“Then let me have a word with you.”

“But I–”

“In your master’s interests.”

Passepartout seemed to be vanquished by Fix’s coolness, for he quietly
followed him, and they sat down aside from the rest of the passengers.

“You have given me a thrashing,” said Fix. “Good, I expected it.
Now, listen to me. Up to this time I have been Mr. Fogg’s adversary.
I am now in his game.”

“Aha!” cried Passepartout; “you are convinced he is an honest man?”

“No,” replied Fix coldly, “I think him a rascal. Sh! don’t budge,
and let me speak. As long as Mr. Fogg was on English ground,
it was for my interest to detain him there until my warrant
of arrest arrived. I did everything I could to keep him back.
I sent the Bombay priests after him, I got you intoxicated at Hong Kong,
I separated you from him, and I made him miss the Yokohama steamer.”

Passepartout listened, with closed fists.

“Now,” resumed Fix, “Mr. Fogg seems to be going back to England.
Well, I will follow him there. But hereafter I will do as much
to keep obstacles out of his way as I have done up to this time
to put them in his path. I’ve changed my game, you see,
and simply because it was for my interest to change it.
Your interest is the same as mine; for it is only in England
that you will ascertain whether you are in the service of a criminal
or an honest man.”

Passepartout listened very attentively to Fix,
and was convinced that he spoke with entire good faith.

“Are we friends?” asked the detective.

“Friends?–no,” replied Passepartout; “but allies, perhaps.
At the least sign of treason, however, I’ll twist your neck for you.”

“Agreed,” said the detective quietly.

Eleven days later, on the 3rd of December, the General Grant
entered the bay of the Golden Gate, and reached San Francisco.

Mr. Fogg had neither gained nor lost a single day.


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