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 carpetbag; a lady could not be expected
to travel comfortably under such conditions. He acquitted his
task with characteristic serenity, and invariably replied to the
objections of his fair companion, who was confused by his
patience and generosity. "It is in the interest of my journey--a
part of my program."
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 carpetbag, 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 harbor. 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 where
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 servant, 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 on the Rangoon, which arrived
yesterday?"
"I was, sir," replied Mr. Fogg coldly. "But I have not the honor
-"
"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. 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 favored 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 harbor of Hong Kong."
And, offering his arm to Aouda, he directed his steps towards 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 honor looking for a boat?"
"Have you a boat ready to sail?"
"Yes, your honor; a pilot boat--No. 43--the best in the
harbor."
"Does she go fast?"
"Between eight and nine knots the hour. Will you look at her?"
"Yes."
"Your honor 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 honor 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 honor," 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 southwest 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 money?"
"If it would not put your honor 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 favor."
"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 galvanized 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 center 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 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 seeing 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 that case an explanation the reverse of
satisfactory to the detective would have been necessary. But the
Frenchman did not appear, and, without doubt, was still lying
under the stupefying influence of the opium. At length John
Bunsby, master, gave the order to start, and the Tankadere,
taking the wind under her brigantine, foresail and standing-jib,
bounded briskly forward over the waves.