Around the World in Eighty Days
full of the affair, and everywhere people were discussing the
probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club was
especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials.
Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives was likely to
be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered would greatly
stimulate their zeal and activity. But Stuart was far from sharing this
confidence; and, as they placed themselves at the whist-table, they
continued to argue the matter. Stuart and Flanagan played together,
while Phileas Fogg had Fallentin for his partner. As the game proceeded
the conversation ceased, excepting between the rubbers, when it revived
again.
“I maintain,” said Stuart, “that the chances are in favour of the
thief, who must be a shrewd fellow.”
“Well, but where can he fly to?” asked Ralph. “No country is safe for
him.”
“Pshaw!”
“Where could he go, then?”
“Oh, I don’t know that. The world is big enough.”
“It was once,” said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone. “Cut, sir,” he added,
handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan.
The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart took up its
thread.
“What do you mean by ‘once’? Has the world grown smaller?”
“Certainly,” returned Ralph. “I agree with Mr. Fogg. The world has
grown smaller, since a man can now go round it ten times more quickly
than a hundred years ago. And that is why the search for this thief
will be more likely to succeed.”
“And also why the thief can get away more easily.”
“Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart,” said Phileas Fogg.
But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the hand was
finished, said eagerly: “You have a strange way, Ralph, of proving that
the world has grown smaller. So, because you can go round it in three
months—”
“In eighty days,” interrupted Phileas Fogg.
“That is true, gentlemen,” added John Sullivan. “Only eighty days, now
that the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the Great Indian
Peninsula Railway, has been opened. Here is the estimate made by the
_Daily Telegraph:_—
From London to Suez _viâ_ Mont Cenis and Brindisi, by rail and
steamboats ................. 7 days
From Suez to Bombay, by steamer .................... 13 ”
From Bombay to Calcutta, by rail ................... 3 ”
From Calcutta to Hong Kong, by steamer ............. 13 ”
From Hong Kong to Yokohama (Japan), by steamer ..... 6 ”
From Yokohama to San Francisco, by steamer ......... 22 ”
From San Francisco to New York, by rail ............. 7 ”
From New York to London, by steamer and rail ........ 9 ”
-------
Total ............................................ 80 days.”
“Yes, in eighty days!” exclaimed Stuart, who in his excitement made a
false deal. “But that doesn’t take into account bad weather, contrary
winds, shipwrecks, railway accidents, and so on.”
“All included,” returned Phileas Fogg, continuing to play despite the
discussion.
“But suppose the Hindoos or Indians pull up the rails,” replied Stuart;
“suppose they stop the trains, pillage the luggage-vans, and scalp the
passengers!”
“All included,” calmly retorted Fogg; adding, as he threw down the
cards, “Two trumps.”
Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered them up, and went on: “You
are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but practically—”
“Practically also, Mr. Stuart.”
“I’d like to see you do it in eighty days.”
“It depends on you. Shall we go?”
“Heaven preserve me! But I would wager four thousand pounds that such a
journey, made under these conditions, is impossible.”
“Quite possible, on the contrary,” returned Mr. Fogg.
“Well, make it, then!”
“The journey round the world in eighty days?”
“Yes.”
“I should like nothing better.”
“When?”
“At once. Only I warn you that I shall do it at your expense.”
“It’s absurd!” cried Stuart, who was beginning to be annoyed at the
persistency of his friend. “Come, let’s go on with the game.”
“Deal over again, then,” said Phileas Fogg. “There’s a false deal.”
Stuart took up the pack with a feverish hand; then suddenly put them
down again.
“Well, Mr. Fogg,” said he, “it shall be so: I will wager the four
thousand on it.”
“Calm yourself, my dear Stuart,” said Fallentin. “It’s only a joke.”
“When I say I’ll wager,” returned Stuart, “I mean it.”
“All right,” said Mr. Fogg; and, turning to the others, he continued:
“I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring’s which I will willingly
risk upon it.”
“Twenty thousand pounds!” cried Sullivan. “Twenty thousand pounds,
which you would lose by a single accidental delay!”
“The unforeseen does not exist,” quietly replied Phileas Fogg.
“But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days are only the estimate of the least possible
time in which the journey can be made.”
“A well-used minimum suffices for everything.”
“But, in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathematically from the
trains upon the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains again.”
“I will jump—mathematically.”
“You are joking.”
“A true Englishman doesn’t joke when he is talking about so serious a
thing as a wager,” replied Phileas Fogg, solemnly. “I will bet twenty
thousand pounds against anyone who wishes that I will make the tour of
the world in eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours,
or a hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes. Do you accept?”
“We accept,” replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and
Ralph, after consulting each other.
“Good,” said Mr. Fogg. “The train leaves for Dover at a quarter before
nine. I will take it.”
“This very evening?” asked Stuart.
“This very evening,” returned Phileas Fogg. He took out and consulted a
pocket almanac, and added, “As today is Wednesday, the 2nd of October,
I shall be due in London in this very room of the Reform Club, on
Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine p.m.; or else
the twenty thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Baring’s, will
belong to you, in fact and in right, gentlemen. Here is a cheque for
the amount.”
A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and signed by the six
parties, during which Phileas Fogg preserved a stoical composure. He
certainly did not bet to win, and had only staked the twenty thousand
pounds, half of his fortune, because he foresaw that he might have to
expend the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say
unattainable, project. As for his antagonists, they seemed much
agitated; not so much by the value of their stake, as because they had
some scruples about betting under conditions so difficult to their
friend.
The clock struck seven, and the party offered to suspend the game so
that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations for departure.
“I am quite ready now,” was his tranquil response. “Diamonds are
trumps: be so good as to play, gentlemen.”
CHAPTER IV.
IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ASTOUNDS PASSEPARTOUT, HIS SERVANT
Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends,
Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club.
Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his
duties, was more than surprised to see his master guilty of the
inexactness of appearing at this unaccustomed hour; for, according to
rule, he was not due in Saville Row until precisely midnight.
Mr. Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, “Passepartout!”
Passepartout did not reply. It could not be he who was called; it was
not the right hour.
“Passepartout!” repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his voice.
Passepartout made his appearance.
“I’ve called you twice,” observed his master.
“But it is not midnight,” responded the other, showing his watch.
“I know it; I don’t blame you. We start for Dover and Calais in ten
minutes.”
A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout’s round face; clearly he had not
comprehended his master.
“Monsieur is going to leave home?”
“Yes,” returned Phileas Fogg. “We are going round the world.”
Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his
hands, and seemed about to collapse, so overcome was he with stupefied
astonishment.
“Round the world!” he murmured.
“In eighty days,” responded Mr. Fogg. “So we haven’t a moment to lose.”
“But the trunks?” gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head
from right to left.
“We’ll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts and three
pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you. We’ll buy our clothes
on the way. Bring down my mackintosh and traveling-cloak, and some
stout shoes, though we shall do little walking. Make haste!”
Passepartout tried to reply, but could not. He went out, mounted to his
own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: “That’s good, that is! And
I, who wanted to remain quiet!”
He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure. Around
the world in eighty days! Was his master a fool? No. Was this a joke,
then? They were going to Dover; good! To Calais; good again! After all,
Passepartout, who had been away from France five years, would not be
sorry to set foot on his native soil again. Perhaps they would go as
far as Paris, and it would do his eyes good to see Paris once more. But
surely a gentleman so chary of his steps would stop there; no
doubt—but, then, it was none the less true that he was going away, this
so domestic person hitherto!
By eight o’clock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag,
containing the wardrobes of his master and himself; then, still
troubled in mind, he carefully shut the door of his room, and descended
to Mr. Fogg.
Mr. Fogg was quite ready. Under his arm might have been observed a
red-bound copy of Bradshaw’s Continental Railway Steam Transit and
General Guide, with its timetables showing the arrival and departure of
steamers and railways. He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped
into it a goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass
wherever he might go.
“You have forgotten nothing?” asked he.
“Nothing, monsieur.”
“My mackintosh and cloak?”
“Here they are.”
“Good! Take this carpet-bag,” handing it to Passepartout. “Take good
care of it, for there are twenty thousand pounds in it.”
Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty thousand pounds
were in gold, and weighed him down.
Master and man then descended, the street-door was double-locked, and
at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing
Cross. The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes
past eight. Passepartout jumped off the box and followed his master,
who, after paying the cabman, was about to enter the station, when a
poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, her naked feet smeared
with mud, her head covered with a wretched bonnet, from which hung a
tattered feather, and her shoulders shrouded in a ragged shawl,
approached, and mournfully asked for alms.
Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won at whist, and
handed them to the beggar, saying, “Here, my good woman. I’m glad that
I met you;” and passed on.
Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his master’s action
touched his susceptible heart.
Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr.
Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five
friends of the Reform.
“Well, gentlemen,” said he, “I’m off, you see; and, if you will examine
my passport when I get back, you will be able to judge whether I have
accomplished the journey agreed upon.”
“Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg,” said Ralph politely.
“We will trust your word, as a gentleman of honour.”
“You do not forget when you are due in London again?” asked Stuart.
“In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter
before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen.”