In Which It Is Shown That Phileas Fogg Gained Nothing
by His Tour around the World Except Happiness
Yes, Phileas Fogg in person.
The reader will remember that at five minutes past eight in the
evening--about five and twenty hours after the arrival of the
travelers in London--Passepartout had been sent by his master to
engage the services of the Reverend Samuel Wilson in a certain
marriage ceremony, which was to take place the next day.
Passepartout went on his errand enchanted. He soon reached the
clergyman's house, but found him not at home. Passepartout
waited a good twenty minutes, and when he left the reverend
gentleman, it was thirty-five minutes past eight. But in what a
state he was! With his hair in disorder, and without his hat, he
ran along the street as never man was seen to run before,
overturning passersby, rushing over the sidewalk like a
waterspout.
In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and staggered back
into Mr. Fogg's room.
He could not speak.
"What is the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.
"My master!" gasped Passepartout. "Marriage--impossible--"
"Impossible?"
"Impossible--for tomorrow."
"Why so?"
"Because tomorrow--is Sunday!"
"Monday," replied Mr. Fogg.
"No--today--is Saturday."
"Saturday? Impossible!"
"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" cried Passepartout. "You have made a
mistake of one day! We arrived twenty-four hours ahead of time,
but there are only ten minutes left!"
Passepartout had seized his master by the collar, and was
dragging him along with irresistible force.
Phileas Fogg, thus kidnapped, without having time to think, left
his house, jumped into a cab, promised a hundred pounds to the
cabman, and, having run over two dogs and overturned five
carriages, reached the Reform Club.
The clock indicated a quarter before nine when he appeared in the
great saloon.
Phileas Fogg had accomplished the journey round the world in
eighty days!
Phileas Fogg had won his wager of twenty thousand pounds!
How was it that a man so exact and fastidious could have made
this error of a day? How came he to think that he had arrived in
London on Saturday, the twenty-first day of December, when it was
really Friday, the twentieth, the seventy-ninth day only from his
departure?
The cause of the error is very simple.
Phileas Fogg had, without suspecting it, gained one day on his
journey, and this merely because he had traveled constantly
eastward. He would, on the contrary, have lost a day had he gone
in the opposite direction, that is, westward.
In journeying eastward he had gone towards the sun, and the days
therefore diminished for him as many times four minutes as he
crossed degrees in this direction. There are three hundred and
sixty degrees on the circumference of the earth; and these three
hundred and sixty degrees, multiplied by four minutes, gives
precisely twenty-four hours--that is, the day unconsciously
gained. In other words, while Phileas Fogg, going eastward, saw
the sun pass the meridian eighty times, his friends in London
only saw it pass the meridian seventy-nine times. This is why
they awaited him at the Reform Club on Saturday, and not Sunday.
as Mr. Fogg thought.
And Passepartout's famous family watch, which had always kept
London time, would have betrayed this fact, if it had marked the
days as well as the hours and the minutes!
Phileas Fogg, then, had won the twenty thousand pounds; but, as
he had spent nearly nineteen thousand on the way, the pecuniary
gain was small. His object was, however, to be victorious, and
not to win money. He divided the one thousand pounds that
remained between Passepartout and the unfortunate Fix, against
whom he cherished no grudge. He deducted, however, from
Passepartout's share the cost of the gas which had burned in his
room for nineteen hundred and twenty hours, for the sake of
regularity.
That evening, Mr. Fogg, as tranquil and phlegmatic as ever, said
to Aouda: "Is our marriage still agreeable to you?"
"Mr. Fogg," replied she, "it is for me to ask that question. You
were ruined, but now you are rich again."
"Pardon me, madam. My fortune belongs to you. If you had not
suggested our marriage, my servant would not have gone to the
Reverend Samuel Wilson's, I should not have been informed of my
error, and--"
"Dear Mr. Fogg!" said the young woman.
"Dear Aouda!" replied Phileas Fogg.
It need not be said that the marriage took place forty-eight
hours after, and that Passepartout, glowing and dazzling, gave
the bride away. Had he not saved her, and was he not entitled to
this honor?
The next day, as soon as it was light, Passepartout rapped
vigorously at his master's door. Mr. Fogg opened it, and asked,
"What's the matter, Passepartout?"
"What is it, sir? Why, I've just this instant found out--"
"What?"
"That we might have made the tour of the world in only
seventy-eight days."
"No doubt," returned Mr. Fogg, "by not crossing India. But if I
had not crossed India, I should not have saved Aouda. She would
not have been my wife, and--"
Mr. Fogg quietly shut the door.
Phileas Fogg had won his wager, and had made his journey around
the world in eighty days. To do this he had employed every
means of conveyance--steamers, railways, carriages, yachts,
trading-vessels, sledges, elephants. The eccentric gentleman had
throughout displayed all his marvelous qualifies of coolness and
exactitude. But what then? What had he really gained by all this
trouble? What had he brought back from this long and weary journey?
Nothing, say you? Perhaps so; nothing but a charming woman, who,
strange as it may appear, made him the happiest of men!
Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the world?
End of Project Gutenberg's Around the World in 80 Days, by Jules Verne