In which a Conversation arises which is likely to cost Phileas Fogg
dear.
Phileas Fogg left home at half-past eleven, and having placed his
right foot before his left exactly five hundred and seventy-five
times, and his left foot before his right five hundred and seventy-six
times, he arrived at the Reform Club in Pall Mall, and immediately
went up to the dining-room and took his place at his usual table,
where his breakfast awaited him. The meal was composed of one
"side-dish," a delicious little bit of boiled fish, a slice of
underdone roast beef with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart,
and some Cheshire cheese; the whole washed down with several cups of
excellent tea, for which the Reform Club is celebrated.
At forty-seven minutes after twelve he rose from table and went into
the drawing-room; there the servant handed him an uncut copy of _The
Times_, which Phileas Fogg folded and cut with a dexterity which
denoted a practised hand. The perusal of this journal occupied him
till a quarter to four, and then _The Standard_ sufficed till
dinner-time. This repast was eaten under the same conditions as his
breakfast, and at twenty minutes to six he returned to the saloon and
read _The Morning Chronicle_.
About half an hour later, several of Mr. Fogg's friends entered the
room and collected round the fireplace. These gentlemen were his usual
partners at whist, and, like him, were all inveterate players.
They comprised Andrew Stuart, an engineer; the bankers, John Sullivan
and Samuel Fallentin; Thomas Flanagan, the brewer; and Gauthier Ralph,
one of the directors of the Bank of England;--all rich, and men of
consequence, even in that club which comprised so many men of mark.
"Well, Ralph," asked Thomas Flanagan, "what about this robbery?"
"The bank must lose the money," replied Stuart.
"On the contrary," replied Ralph, "I am in hopes that we shall be able
to put our hand upon the thief. We have detectives in America and
Europe, at all the principal ports, and it will be no easy matter for
him to escape the clutches of the law."
"Then you have the robber's description, of course," said Andrew
Stuart.
"In the first place he is not a thief at all," replied Ralph
seriously.
"What do you mean? Is not a man a thief who takes away fifty-five
thousand pounds in bank-notes?"
"No," replied Ralph.
"He is then a man of business, I suppose?" said Sullivan.
"_The Morning Chronicle_ assures me he is a gentleman."
This last observation was uttered by Phileas Fogg, whose head rose up
from the sea of papers surrounding him, and then Phileas got up and
exchanged greetings with his acquaintances.
The subject of conversation was a robbery, which was in everyone's
mouth, and had been committed three days previously--viz. on the 29th
of September. A pile of bank-notes, amounting to the enormous sum of
fifty-five thousand pounds, had been stolen from the counter at the
Bank of England.
The astonishing part of the matter was that the robbery had been so
easily accomplished, and as Ralph, who was one of the deputy-governors,
explained, that when the fifty-five thousand pounds were stolen, the
cashier was occupied in carefully registering the receipt of three
shillings and sixpence, and of course could not have his eyes in every
direction at once.
It may not be out of place here to remark, which in some measure may
account for the robbery, that the Bank of England trusts greatly in
the honesty of the public. There are no guards, or commissionaires, or
gratings; gold, silver, and notes are all exposed freely, and, so to
speak, at the mercy of the first-comer. No one's honesty is suspected.
Take the following instance, related by one of the closest observers
of English customs. This gentleman was one day in one of the parlours
of the Bank, and had the curiosity to take up and closely examine a
nugget of gold weighing seven or eight pounds, which was lying on the
table. Having examined the ingot, he passed it to his neighbour, he to
the next man; and so the gold went from hand to hand quite down to the
dark entry, and was not returned for quite half an hour, and all the
time the bank official had not raised his head.
But on the 29th of September things did not work so nicely; the pile
of bank-notes was not returned; and when the hands of the magnificent
clock in the drawing-office pointed to the hour of five, at which time
the bank is closed, the sum of fifty-five thousand pounds was written
off to "profit and loss."
When it was certain that a robbery had been committed, the most
skilful detectives were sent down to Liverpool and Glasgow and other
principal ports, also to Suez, Brindisi, New York, &c., with promises
of a reward of two thousand pounds, and five per cent on the amount
recovered. In the meantime, inspectors were appointed to observe
scrupulously all travellers arriving at and departing from the several
seaports.
Now there was some reason to suppose, as _The Morning Chronicle_ put
it, that the thief did not belong to a gang, for during the 29th of
September a well-dressed gentlemanly man had been observed in the
bank, near where the robbery had been perpetrated. An exact
description of this person was fortunately obtained, and supplied to
all the detectives; and so some sanguine persons, of whom Ralph was
one, believed the thief could not escape.
As may be imagined, nothing else was talked about just then. The
probabilities of success and failure were warmly discussed in the
newspapers, so it was not surprising that the members of the Reform
Club should talk about it, particularly as one of the deputy-governors
of the bank was present.
Ralph did not doubt that the search would be successful because of the
amount of the reward, which would probably stimulate the zeal of the
detectives. But Andrew Stuart was of a different opinion, and the
discussion was continued between these gentlemen during their game of
whist. Stuart was Flanagan's partner, and Fallentin was Fogg's. While
they played they did not talk; but between the rubbers the subject
cropped up again.
"Well," said Stuart, "I maintain that the chances are in favour of the
thief, who must be a sharp one."
"But," replied Ralph, "there is no place a fellow can go to."
"Oh, come!"
"Well, where can he go to?"
"I can't tell," replied Stuart; "but the world is big enough, at any
rate."
"It used to be," said Phileas Fogg, in an undertone. "Cut, if you
please," he added, handing the cards to Flanagan.
Conversation was then suspended, but after the rubber Stuart took it
up again, saying:
"What do you mean by 'used to be?' Has the world grown smaller, then?"
"Of course it has," replied Ralph. "I am of Mr. Fogg's opinion; the
world has grown smaller, inasmuch as one can go round it ten times
quicker than you could a hundred years ago. That is the reason why, in
the present case, search will be more rapid, and render the escape of
the thief easier."
"Your lead, Mr. Stuart," said Fogg.
But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and he again returned to
the subject.
"I must say, Mr. Ralph," he continued, "that you have found an easy
way that the world has grown smaller, because one now go round it in
three months."
"In eighty days only," said Phileas Fogg.
"That is a fact, gentlemen," added John Sullivan. "You can make the
tour of the world in eighty days, now that the section of the Great
Indian Peninsular Railway is opened between Rothal and Allahabad, and
here is the estimate made by _The Morning Chronicle_:
London to Suez, by Mont Cenis and Brindisi, Rail and Steamer . . . 7
days.
Suez to Bombay, by Steamer . . . 13 "
Bombay to Calcutta, by Rail . . . 3 "
Calcutta to Hong Kong, by Steamer . . . 13 "
Hong Kong to Yokohama, by Steamer . . . 6 "
Yokohama to San Francisco, by Steamer . . . 22 "
San Francisco to New York, by Rail . . . 7 "
New York to London, Steam and Rail . . . 9 "
Total . . . 80 days."
"Yes, eighty days!" exclaimed Stuart, who, being absorbed in his
calculations, made a mis-deal; "but that estimate does not take inter
consideration bad weather, head-winds, shipwreck, railway accidents,
&c."
"They are all included," remarked Fogg, as he continued to play, for
this time the conversation did not cease with the deal.
"Even if the Hindoos or Indians take up the rails? Suppose they stop
the trains, pillage the baggage-waggons, and scalp the travellers?"
"All included," replied Fogg quietly. "Two trumps," he added, as he
won the tricks.
Stuart, who was "pony," collected the cards, and said: "No doubt you
are right in theory, Mr. Fogg, but in practice--"
"In practice too, Mr. Stuart."
"I should like to see you do it."
"It only rests with you. Let us go together."
"Heaven forbid," cried Stuart; "but I will bet you a cool four
thousand that such a journey, under such conditions, is impossible."
"On the contrary, it is quite possible," replied Mr. Fogg.
"Well, then, why don't you do it?"
"Go round the world in eighty days, do you mean?"
"Yes."
"I will."
"When?"
"At once; only I give you warning I shall do it at your expense."
"Oh, this is all nonsense," replied Stuart, who began to feel a little
vexed at Fogg's persistence; "let us continue the game."
"You had better deal, then; that was a mis-deal."
Andrew Stuart took up the cards, and suddenly put them down again.
"Look here, Mr. Fogg," he said; "if you like, I will bet you four
thousand."
"My dear Stuart," said Fallentin, "don't be ridiculous; it is only a
joke."
"When I say I will bet," said Stuart, "I mean it."
"All right," said Mr. Fogg; then, turning towards the others, he said:
"I have twenty thousand pounds deposited at Baring's. I will willingly
risk that sum."
"Twenty thousand pounds!" exclaimed Sullivan; "why, the slightest
accident might cause you to lose the whole of it. Anything
unforeseen--"
"The unforeseen does not exist," replied Fogg simply.
"But, Mr. Fogg, this estimate of eighty days is the very least time in
which the journey can be accomplished."
"A minimum well employed is quite sufficient."
"But to succeed you must pass from railways to steamers, from steamers
to railways, with mathematical accuracy."
"I will be mathematically accurate."
"Oh, this is a joke!"
"A true Englishman never jokes when he has a stake depending on the
matter. I bet twenty thousand against any of you that I will make the
tour of the world in eighty days or less; that is to say, in nineteen
hundred and twenty hours, or a hundred and fifteen thousand two
hundred minutes. Will you take me?"
"We do," replied the others, after consultation together.
"Very well, then," said Fogg, "the Dover mail starts at 8.45; I will
go by it."
"This evening?" said Stuart.
"Yes, this evening," replied Fogg. Then, referring to a pocket
almanack, he added: "This is Wednesday, the 2nd of October; I shall be
due in London, in this room, on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a
quarter to nine in the evening, or, in default, the twenty thousand at
Baring's, to my credit, will be yours, gentlemen. Here is my cheque
for that sum."
A memorandum of the conditions of the bet was made and signed by all
parties concerned. Phileas Fogg was as cool as ever. He had certainly
not bet to win the money, and he had only bet twenty thousand pounds,
half of his fortune, because he foresaw that he would probably have to
spend the other half to enable him to carry out this difficult if not
actually impossible feat. His opponents appeared quite agitated, not
on account of the value of their stake, but because they had some
misgivings and scruples about betting under such conditions.
Seven o'clock struck, and it was suggested that the game should stop,
while Mr. Fogg made his preparations for the journey.
"I am always ready," replied this impassible gentleman, as he dealt
the cards. "Diamonds are trumps," he added; "your lead, Mr. Stuart."