In Which Phileas Fogg Engages in a
Direct Struggle with Bad Fortune
The China, in leaving, seemed to have carried off Phileas Fogg's
last hope. None of the other steamers were able to serve his
projects. The Pereire, of the French Transatlantic Company, whose
admirable steamers are equal to any in speed and comfort, did not
leave until the 14th. The Hamburg boats did not go directly to
Liverpool or London, but to Havre; and the additional trip from
Havre to Southampton would render Phileas Fogg's last efforts of
no avail. The Inman steamer did not depart till the next day, and
could not cross the Atlantic in time to save the wager.
Mr. Fogg learned all this in consulting his Bradshaw, which gave
him the daily movements of the trans-Atlantic steamers.
Passepartout was crushed. It overwhelmed him to lose the boat by
three-quarters of an hour. It was his fault, for, instead of
helping his master, he had not ceased putting obstacles in his
path! And when he recalled all the incidents of the tour, when he
counted up the sums expended in pure loss and on his own account,
when he thought that the immense stake, added to the heavy
charges of this useless journey, would completely ruin Mr. Fogg,
he overwhelmed himself with bitter self-accusations. Mr. Fogg,
however, did not reproach him; and, on leaving the Cunard pier,
only said: "We will consult about what is best tomorrow. Come."
The party crossed the Hudson in the Jersey City ferryboat, and
drove in a carriage to the St. Nicholas Hotel on Broadway. Rooms
were engaged and the night passed, briefly to Phileas Fogg, who
slept profoundly, but very long to Aouda and the others, whose
agitation did not permit them to rest.
The next day was the 12th of December. From seven in the morning
of the 12th to a quarter before nine in the evening of the 21st
there were nine days, thirteen hours, and forty-five minutes. If
Phileas Fogg had left in the China, one of the fastest steamers
on the Atlantic, he would have reached Liverpool, and then
London, within the period agreed upon.
Mr. Fogg left the hotel alone, after giving Passepartout
instructions to await his return, and inform Aouda to be ready at
an instant's notice. He proceeded to the banks of the Hudson, and
looked about among the vessels moored or anchored in the river,
for any that were about to depart. Several had departure signals,
and were preparing to put to sea at morning tide; for in this
immense and admirable port there is not one day in a hundred that
vessels do not set out for every quarter of the globe. But they
were mostly sailing vessels, of which, of course, Phileas Fogg
could make no use.
He seemed about to give up all hope, when he sighted, anchored at
the Battery, a cable's length off at most, a trading vessel, with
a well-shaped screw, whose funnel, puffing a cloud of smoke,
indicated that she was getting ready for departure.
Phileas Fogg hailed a boat, got into it, and soon found himself
on board the Henrietta, iron-hulled, wood-built above. He
ascended to the deck, and asked for the captain, who presented
himself. He was a man of fifty, a sort of sea-wolf, with big
eyes, a complexion of oxidized copper, red hair and thick neck,
and a growling voice.
"The captain?" asked Mr. Fogg.
"I am the captain."
"I am Phileas Fogg of London."
"And I am Andrew Speedy of Cardiff."
"You are going to put to sea?"
"In an hour."
"You are bound for--"
"Bordeaux."
"And your cargo?"
"No freight. Going in ballast."
"Have you any passengers?"
"No passengers. Never have passengers. Too much in the way."
"Is your vessel a swift one?"
"Between eleven and twelve knots. The Henrietta is well known."
"Will you carry me and three other persons to Liverpool?"
"To Liverpool? Why not to China?"
"I said Liverpool."
"No!"
"No?"
"No. I am setting out for Bordeaux, and shall go to Bordeaux."
"Money is no object?"
"None."
The captain spoke in a tone which did not admit of a reply. "But
the owners of the Henrietta--" resumed Phileas Fogg.
"The owners are myself," replied the captain. "The vessel belongs
to me."
"I will freight it for you."
"No."
"I will buy it of you."
"No."
Phileas Fogg did not betray the least disappointment, but the
situation was a grave one. It was not at New York as at Hong
Kong, nor with the captain of the Henrietta as with the captain
of the Tankadere. Up to this time money had smoothed away every
obstacle. Now money failed.
Still, some means must be found to cross the Atlantic on a boat,
unless by balloon--which would have been venturesome, besides
not being capable of being put in practice. It seemed that
Phileas Fogg had an idea for he said to the captain, "Well, will
you carry me to Bordeaux?"
"No, not if you paid me two hundred dollars."
"I offer you two thousand."
"Apiece?"
"Apiece."
"And there are four of you?"
"Four."
Captain Speedy began to scratch his head. There was eight
thousand dollars to gain, without changing his route, for which
it was well worth conquering the repugnance he had for all kinds
of passengers. Besides, passengers at two thousand dollars are no
longer passengers, but valuable merchandise. "I start at nine
o'clock," said Captain Speedy, simply. "Are you and your party
ready?"
"We will be on board at nine o'clock," replied Mr. Fogg.
It was half-past eight. To disembark from the Henrietta, jump
into a hack, hurry to the St. Nicholas, and return with Aouda,
Passepartout and even the inseparable Fix was the work of a brief
time, and was performed by Mr. Fogg with the coolness which never
abandoned him. They were on board when the Henrietta made ready
to weigh anchor.
When Passepartout heard what this last voyage was going to cost,
he uttered a prolonged "Oh!" which extended throughout his vocal
gamut.
As for Fix, he said to himself that the Bank of England would
certainly not come out of this affair well indemnified. When they
reached England, even if Mr. Fogg did not throw some handfuls of
bank-bills into the sea, more than seven thousand pounds would
have been spent!