In which Phileas Fogg astonishes Passe-partout.
At twenty-five minutes past seven, Phileas Fogg, having won twenty
guineas at whist, took leave of his friends and left the club. At ten
minutes to eight he reached home.
Passe-partout, who had conscientiously studied his programme, was
astonished to see Mr. Fogg appear at such an unusual hour, for,
according to all precedent, he was not due in Saville Row till
midnight.
Phileas Fogg went straight up to his room and called for
Passe-partout.
Passe-partout did not reply. It was evident this could not refer to
him, it was not time.
"Passe-partout," cried Mr. Fogg again, but without raising his voice;
"this is the second time I have called you," said Mr. Fogg.
"But it is not midnight," replied Passe-partout, producing his watch.
"I know that," replied Fogg, "and I do not blame you. We start for
Dover and Calais in ten minutes."
A sort of grimace contracted the Frenchman's round face; he evidently
did not understand.
"Are you going out, sir," he asked.
"Yes," replied his master; "we are going around the world."
Passe-partout at this announcement opened his eyes to their greatest
extent, held up his arms, and looked the picture of stupefied
astonishment.
"Around the world!" he muttered.
"In eighty days," replied Mr. Fogg; "so we have not a moment to lose."
"But the luggage," said Passe-partout, who was wagging his head
unconsciously from side to side.
"We want no luggage; a carpet-bag will do. Pack up two night-shirts
and three pairs of socks, and the same for yourself. We will buy what
we want as we go along. Bring my mackintosh and travelling-cloak down
with you, and a couple of pairs of strong boots, although we shall
have little or no walking. Look alive."
Passe-partout wished to speak, but could not He left his master's
bedroom, and went upstairs to his own, fell into a chair, and
exclaimed:
"Well, this is coming it pretty strong, and for me too, who wanted to
be quiet!"
Mechanically he set about making preparations for departure. Around
the world in eighty days! Had he engaged himself with a maniac? No--it
was only a joke. But they were going to Dover and to Calais. So far so
good. After all, he did not object to that very much, for it was five
years since he had seen his native land. Perhaps they would even go on
to Paris, and he would be delighted to see the capital again. No doubt
a gentleman so economical of his steps would stop there; but on the
other hand, this hitherto very domestic gentleman was leaving home.
That was a fact.
At eight o'clock Passe-partout had packed the small bag which now
contained his master's luggage and his own, and in a very troubled
frame of mind he quitted his room, closed the door carefully, and went
downstairs to Mr. Fogg.
That gentleman was quite ready. Under his arm he carried a copy of
"Bradshaw's Continental Guide." He took the small bag from
Passe-partout, opened it, and placed therein a bulky roll of
bank-notes, which will pass in any country.
"You are sure you have not forgotten anything?" he asked.
"Quite sure, sir."
"You have my mackintosh and travelling-cloak?"
"Here they are, sir."
"All right, take the bag;" and Mr. Fogg handed it back to the man.
"You had better take care of it," he added, "there are twenty thousand
pounds in it."
Passe-partout nearly let the bag fall, as if it were weighted with the
twenty thousand pounds in gold.
Master and man went downstairs together; the door was shut and
double-locked. Phileas called a cab from the bottom of Saville Row,
and drove to Charing Cross Station. It was twenty minutes past eight
when they reached the railway. Passe-partout jumped out. His master
followed, and paid the cabman. At this moment a poor beggar-woman,
carrying a baby, looking very miserable with her naked feet and
tattered appearance, approached Mr. Fogg, and asked for alms.
Mr. Fogg drew from his waistcoat-pocket the twenty guineas he had won
at whist, and handing them to the beggar-woman, said: "Take these, my
good woman. I am glad I have met you." He then entered the station.
This action of his master brought the tears into Passe-partout's
susceptible eyes. Mr. Fogg had risen in his estimation. That eccentric
individual now told him to take two first-class tickets for Paris, and
as he turned round he perceived his five friends from the Reform Club.
"Well, gentlemen, you see I am about to start, and the visas on my
passport on my return will convince you that I have performed the
journey."
"Oh, Mr. Fogg," replied Gauthier Ralph politely, "that is quite
unnecessary. We believe you to be a man of your word."
"All the better," was Fogg's reply.
"You won't forget when you have to come back," observed Stuart.
"In eighty days," replied Mr. Fogg. "On Saturday, the 21st day of
December, 1872, at forty-five minutes past eight in the evening. _Au
revoir_, gentlemen."
At twenty minutes to nine Phileas Fogg and his servant took their
places in the train. At 8.45 the engine whistled and the train
started.
The night was dark, and a fine rain was falling. Mr. Fogg was
comfortably settled in his corner, and did not say a word.
Passe-partout, still rather in a state of stupefaction, mechanically
gripped the bag with the bank-notes.
But scarcely had the train rushed through Sydenham, than Passe-partout
uttered a cry of despair.
"What is the matter with you?" asked Mr. Fogg.
"Oh dear me! In my hurry I quite forgot--"
"What?"
"I forgot to turn the gas off in my room!"
"Very well, my lad," replied Mr. Fogg coolly, "then it must burn while
we are away--at your expense."