Passepartout Drinks Too Much

The Carnatic was expected to leave the next morning at five

o'clock. So Mr Fogg had sixteen hours ahead of him during'Shall I give you some of the money now?'

'If you don't mind.'

'Here are two hundred pounds. Sir,' added Phileas Fogg,

turning towards Fix, 'if you would like to join us ... '

'Sir,' answered Fix, 'I was going to ask you to take me.'

'Very well. In half an hour we shall be on board.'

'But poor Passepartout,' said Aouda, who was very anx10us

about the disappearance of the servant.

'I will do all I can for him,' answered Phileas Fogg.

And while Fix, in a very bad temper, was heading for the boat,

the other two went to the police station of Hong Kong. There

Phileas Fogg gave a description of Passepartout and left enough

money to send him back to Europe. Then, after calling at the

hotel to collect their luggage, they, too, went off to find the boat.

Three o'clock struck. The Tankadere was ready to raise its sails.

Besides John Bunsby there were four men on the boat - four

strong and clever sailors who knew the China Sea perfectly.John

Bunsby himself, a man of about forty-five years old, with sharp

eyes and an active body, was a person whom anyone could trust.

Phileas and Aouda went on board. Fix was already there. They

all went down into a small, but clean, cabin.

'I am sorry not to be able to offer you anything better than

this,' said Mr Fogg to Fix.

The detective felt uncomfortable. He was not happy about

being on the receiving end of Mr Fogg's kindness.

'He's a very polite thief,' Fix reminded himself, 'but he is a

thief, all the same.'

At ten minutes past three the sails were raised. Mr Fogg and

Aouda were standing on the ship's deck looking at the land for

the last time in case Passepartout appeared.

Fix was clearly anxious. The unfortunate Frenchman, whom

he had treated so badly, might still come, and then there would

be an explanation not at all to the liking of the detective. But hedid not appear. No doubt he was still suffering from what he had

been given to drink.

Then John Bunsby threw off the ropes, and the Tankadere

made its way at great speed towards the north.A journey of 800 miles on a ship of this sort was not without

danger. The China Seas are generally rough, particularly at this

time of year. As the captain was being paid by the day, he would

certainly have earned more money by going to Yokohama. But

the journey to Shanghai was already dangerous enough.

During the last hours of the day, the Tankadere made its way

through the narrow stretches of water to the north of Hong

Kong.

'I hardly need tell you, Captain,' said Phileas Fogg, as the boat

reached the open sea, 'how important it is to go as fast as possible.'

'Trust me,' answered John Bunsby. 'We are carrying as much

sail as the wind will allow us.'

'It's your business, Captain, and not mine. I put my trust in

you.'

Phileas Fogg, standing up straight like a sailor, fearlessly

watched the rough waves. The young woman, seated near him,

was looking, too, at the dark green water as it rushed by, thinking,

no doubt, of her future. Above them floated the white sails, and

the ship flew forward as a bird flies through the air.

Night came. The moon was in its first quarter, and clouds from

the east had already covered a good part of the sky.

Fix was in the front part of the ship. He kept away from the

others, knowing that Fogg disliked talking. Besides, he did not

want to talk to the man from whom he had accepted so much

kindness. He, too, was thinking of the future. He felt certain thatFogg would not stop at Yokohama, but would immediately take

the San Francisco boat for America, where he would be safe.

Fogg's plan seemed to be a good one.

Instead of travelling directly from England to America, as most

people in his position would have done, he preferred to sail round

three-quarters of the earth to reach America more safely. There,

having successfully escaped from the police, he would spend the

money that he had stolen. But what would Fix do when they

reached America? Would he give up the chase? No, a hundred

times no! He would follow him until he caught him. It was his

duty, and he would do his duty to the end. In any case, one

fortunate thing had happened. Passepartout was no longer with

his master, and after what Fix had said to him, it was important

that master and servant should meet no more.

Phileas Fogg, too, was thinking about his servant, who had

disappeared in such a strange way. Perhaps he had, after all,

managed to sail on the Carnatic. Aouda also thought it possible.

She was very sorry to lose the honest Frenchman to whom she

owed her life. They might, though, find him at Yokohama, and it

should not be difficult to discover whether the Carnatic had taken

him there or not.

At about ten o'clock the wind grew stronger. At midnight

Phileas Fogg and Aouda went down to the cabin. Fix was already

there and asleep. The captain and his men stayed on deck all night.

By the next day, 8th November, the boat had gone more than

a hundred miles. Its speed was between eight and nine miles an

hour. There was plenty of wind in the sails, and at this rate the

boat had every chance of achieving the distance in good time.

The Tankadere kept close to the coast, and the sea was running in

the right direction.

Mr Fogg and the young woman, neither of whom suffered

from seasickness, enjoyed a good meal. Fix was asked to join

them, and had to accept, but once again he was not happy aboutthe situation. For Fogg to pay for his journey and his meals

seemed too much - it was not really quite fair. All the same he

had his meal.

But at the end of the meal he thought it his duty to take Mr

Fogg to one side and, although he did not like addressing a thief

as 'sir', he said: 'Sir, you have been kind enough to offer me

transport on this boat. I am not rich enough to pay as much as I

would like, but let me-'

'We will not speak of that, sir,' answered Mr Fogg.

'But, please-'

'No, sir,' said Fogg. 'I count it as part of the cost of my journey.'

Fix did not say another word for the rest of the day.

The ship sailed well. John Buns by had high hopes. More than

once he said to Mr Fogg that they would get to Shanghai in time.

Mr Fogg simply answered that he depended on it. Thinking of

the rich reward they would receive, the sailors worked hard, and

by that evening they were 200 miles from Hong Kong.

Early in the morning the Tankadere was sailing between the

island of Formosa and the coast of China. The sea was very rough

and the movements of the ship were so violent that the travellers

had some difficulty in standing up. When the sun rose, the wind

blew more strongly and the sky was covered with black clouds.

The captain looked at the sky. He was feeling anxious.

'Do you mind if I tell you the truth?' he asked Fogg.

'Tell me everything,' answered Fogg.

'Well, we are going to have a storm.'

'Is it corning from the south or north?'

'From the south.'

'That is good news, then, since it will blow us in the right

direction,' said Mr Fogg.

'If that is your opinion on the matter, I have nothing more to

say,' answered the captain.

John Bunsby was right, and storms in the China Sea at thistime of the year are severe. All the sails except one were taken

down. All the doors and other openings were tied shut so that no

water could come in. They waited.

John Bunsby begged his passengers to go down below, but it

would not have been pleasant to be shut up in the cabin, where

there was little air. Mr Fogg and Aouda, and even Mr Fix, refused

to leave the deck.

At about eight o'clock the storm broke. Rain poured down.

Even with one sail the ship flew over the water. All that day waves

poured over the sides. When evening came the wind changed

direction and began to blow from the north-west. The waves

struck the side of the ship and made it roll terribly. It was

fortunate that the Tankadere was so solidly built.

As night came, the storm grew more violent.John Bunsby and

his men were very worried. The captain went up to Mr Fogg and

said: 'I think, sir, that we had better try to find a port.'

'I think so, too,' answered Phileas Fogg.

'But which one?'

'I only know of one.'

'And which is that?'

'Shanghai.'

It took the captain a few moments to understand what this

answer meant. Then he said: 'Very well, sir, you are right. Let us

go to Shanghai.'

And so the Tankadere kept on its way to the north, but more

slowly. It was a terrible night. It was a wonder that the ship did

not sink. More than once Mr Fogg had to rush to protect Aouda

from the waves.

At last daylight came. The storm was still violent, but the wind

changed to the south-east. This was better, and the ship flew

forward again. Sometimes the coast of China could be seen, but

there was not a ship in sight. The Tankadere was alone on the sea.

At midday the sea was a little calmer, and when the sun wentdown the wind blew less violently. The travellers were now able

to take a little food and to rest.

The night was fairly calm, so the captain put up more sails and

the ship moved at a good speed. The next morning, the morning

of the 11 th,John Bunsby was able to say that they were not more

than a hundred miles from Shanghai.

A hundred miles, and there was only this one day in which to

sail the distance. If they were to catch the steamer for Yokohama,

they must reach Shanghai that same evening. Without the storm,

during which they had lost several hours, they would now have

been only thirty miles away.

The wind blew much less strongly, and the sea grew calmer at

the same time. All the sails were put up. At midday the Tankadere

was not more than forty-five miles from Shanghai, but only six

hours were left in which to catch the boat. All those on the ship

feared that the time was too short. It was necessary to sail at the

speed of nine miles an hour, but the wind was weakening all the

time. The ship was light and fast though, and the sails picked up

the little wind there was. So at six o'clock John Bunsby found

himself about ten miles from the mouth of the Shanghai River -

the town itself is twelve miles further up the river.

At seven o'clock they were three miles away. The captain swore

- he was certainly going to lose his reward of two hundred

pounds. He looked at Mr Fogg. Mr Fogg was perfectly calm, in

spite of the fact that his whole fortune was in danger.

At that moment a long black chimney came into sight, with

black smoke pouring out of it. It was the American steamer

sailing from Shanghai at its usual time.

'Signal to them,' said Phileas Fogg.

A small cannon on deck was used to send signals during bad

weather. John Bunsby filled it with gunpowder.

'Fire!' said Mr Fogg.

And the cannon roared.The Carnatic left Hong Kong on 7th November, at half past six

in the evening, and sailed at full steam towards Japan. It carried

many passengers, but there were three empty cabins - those that

should have been used by Mr Fogg.

The next morning the men on deck saw, with some surprise,

a passenger with an unwashed face and hair in complete disorder

come out from a second-class cabin onto the deck, and fall into

a chair. It was Passepartout. This is what had happened.

A few moments after Fix had left the bar, two Chinese men

saw Passepartout sleeping on the floor. They lifted him up and

laid him on the bed among the other sleepers. But three hours

later, remembering even in his dreams that there was a duty that

he had left undone, the poor man woke up and fought against his

sleepiness and the poison of the drink in his blood. He got up

with difficulty and, holding himself up by keeping close to the

walls, managed to find his way into the street.

'The Carnatic, the Carnatic,' he cried, as if in a dream.

Somehow he made his way to the port. The steamer was there

and preparing to leave. Passepartout climbed on board and, at

exactly the moment when the ship started, fell senseless onto the

deck.

Some of the sailors, used to seeing this sort of thing, carried

him down to a cabin, and Passepartout slept until the following

morning, when they were a 150 miles from Hong Kong.

That is how it was, then, that he found himself on the deck of

the Carnatic. The fresh air brought him to his senses. He began to

remember, but with some difficulty, what had happened to him:

the drinking hall, what Fix had told him, and all the rest.

'I must have been terribly drunk,' he thought. 'What will Mr

Fogg say to me? Well, I have caught the boat, and that is the main

thing.'Then he thought about Fix.

'We shall see no more of him, I hope.After what he said to me

he will not dare follow us on the Carnatic. A detective, he calls

himself, a detective wanting to arrest my master for stealing

money from the Bank of England!'

Passepartout began wondering whether he should tell the

story to his master. Ought he to let him know about Fix? Would

it not be better to wait until they got to London, and then to tell

him how a detective had followed him round the world? What a

joke that would be! Yes, that would be the best thing to do.

Anyhow, it was worth considering. The most important thing

now was to go and join his master and beg forgiveness for his

behaviour of the night before.

So Passepartout got up from his chair. The sea was rather rough

and the boat was rolling heavily. He walked as well as he could,

up and down the deck, but saw nobody at all who was like Mr

Fogg or Aouda.

'Very well,' he thought. 'The lady has probably not got up yet,

and Mr Fogg has found somebody to play cards with.'

So he went down below deck. Mr Fogg was not there. He then

went to the office to ask which was Mr Fogg's cabin. The man at

the office said that there was nobody of that name on the boat.

'But excuse me,' said Passepartout. 'He must be on the boat.'

He then gave the officer a description of Mr Fogg, saying that

there was a young lady with him.

'We have no young ladies on board,' answered the officer.

'Here is a list of passengers; you can see for yourself.'

Passepartout looked at the list. His master's name was not

there. A sudden idea struck him.

'Am I on the Carnatic?'

'Yes,' answered the officer.

'On the way to Yokohama?'

'Certainly.'Passepartout had been afraid for a moment that he was on the

wrong boat. But if it was true that he was on the Carnatic, it was

certain that his master was not.

Then he remembered everything. He remembered how the

hour of sailing had been changed, that he was going to warn his

master and that he had not done so. It was his fault, then, that Mr

Fogg and his companion had not caught the boat!

His fault, yes. But it was still more the fault of the man who

had taken him to a bar and had made him drunk in order to keep

his master in Hong Kong. And now Mr Fogg had certainly lost

his bet; he had, perhaps been arrested; he might even be in prison!

At this thought the Frenchman tore his hair. Ah! If he ever got

hold of Fix, how he would pay him back for what he had done!

When the first terrible moments of his discovery had passed,

Passepartout grew calmer and began to examine his position. It

was not a happy one. He was on his way to Japan. He was certain

to get there, but how would he get away again? His pockets were

empty; he had no money at all. But his cabin and food had been

paid for, so he had five or six days in front of him during which

time he could make some plans for the future.

It is impossible to describe how much he ate and drank during

this part of the journey. He ate and drank for his master, for

Aouda and for himself. He ate as if Japan were a country in which

there was no food at all.

•

On the morning of the 13th, the Carnatic reached Yokohama and

tied up among a large number of ships that had come from nearly

all the countries of the world.

Passepartout, feeling rather frightened, got off the boat in this

strange Land of the Rising Sun. All that he could do was to be

guided by chance and go walking about the streets. He first found

himself in the European part of the town where, as in HongKong, the streets were crowded with people of every nationality

- traders who seemed ready to buy or to sell anything. Among all

these people Passepartout felt as lonely as if he had been thrown

into the middle of Africa.

There was certainly one thing that he could do - he could go

to the French and British consuls. He very much disliked,

though, the idea of telling his story and the story of his master to

these government officials. He would go to the consuls only if

everything else failed.

He then went to the Japanese part of the town, where he saw

the temples and strangely designed houses. The streets here, too,

were crowded with people: priests; officers dressed in silk and

carrying two swords; soldiers with their blue and white coats,

carrying guns; fishermen; beggars, and large numbers of children.

Passepartout walked around among these people for some

hours, looking at the strange sights, the shops, the eating houses

and the amusement halls. But in the shops he could see neither

meat nor bread; and even if he had seen any, he had no money.

The next morning he felt very tired and hungry. He would

certainly have to eat something, and the sooner the better. He

could, of course, have sold his watch, but he would rather die of

hunger than do that. Now was the time when he could use the

strong, if not very musical, voice that nature had given him. He

knew a few French and English songs, and he made up his mind

to try them.

But perhaps it was rather early in the day to start singing. It

might be better to wait a few hours. The thought then came to

him that he was too well dressed for a street singer. He would do

well to change his clothes for others more suitable to his position.

Besides, by doing so he might make a little money with which to

buy food.

It was some time before he found a shop where they bought

and sold old clothes. The owner of the shop liked the look ofwhat Passepartout was wearing, and soon Passepartout came out

dressed in Japanese clothes - old ones, it is true, but quite

comfortable. What pleased him most were the few pieces of silver

that he had been given as part of the arrangement.

The next thing that Passepartout did was to go to a small

eating house, where he was able to satisfy his hunger.

'Now,' he thought, 'I have no time to lose. I had better make

my stay in this Land of the Rising Sun as short as possible.'

His idea was to visit any steamers going to America. He could

offer his services as cook or servant, asking for nothing except his

food and transport. If he could get to San Francisco, he would be

all right. The important thing was to cross the 4,700 miles of sea

between Japan and the New World. So he headed for the port.

But as he got near, his plan, which had seemed so simple when

he made it, now seemed to be more and more impossible to carry

out. Why would they need a cook or a servant on an American

boat, and what would any captain or officer think of him, dressed

as he was? Then again he had no papers to show, no letters from

people expressing their satisfaction at his service.

While he was thinking matters over, he saw in front of an

amusement hall a large noticeboard:

William Batulcar's

Company of Japanese Acrobats

Last Performances

before leaving for America

of the

Long Noses!

Come and see them!

'America!' cried Passepartout. 'Just what I wanted.'

He went inside the building and asked for Mr Batulcar. A fewminutes later Mr Batulcar appeared.

'What do you want?' he asked, mistaking Passepartout for a

poor Japanese man.

'Do you want a servant?' asked Passepartout.

'A servant,' cried the man. 'I have two strong and honest

servants who have always been with me, who serve me for

nothing except food. And here they are!' he added, showing two

strong arms.

'So I can be of no help to you?'

'None.'

'That's a pity. It would have suited me to go with you to

America.'

'Oh,' answered Mr Batulcar, 'you are no more Japanese than I

am. Why are you dressed like that?'

'A man dresses as he can!'

'That's true. You are a Frenchman?'

'Yes.'

'Then I suppose you can make funny faces.'

'Well,' answered Passepartout, who did not like this question at

all, 'we Frenchmen can certainly make funny faces, but they are

no funnier than American faces!'

'Quite right. Are you strong?'

'Yes.'

'Can you sing?'

'Yes.'

'Can you sing while you are standing on your hands?'

'Oh, yes,' answered Passepartout, thinking of the acrobatic

tricks he had done when he was young.

'Very well, then, I will take you.'

So Passepartout had found a position with this company of

Japanese acrobats. It was not a very pleasant way of earning his

living, but in a week's time he would be on his way to San

Francisco.At three o'clock that afternoon the hall was filled with people

who had come to see the acrobats do their tricks. One of the

most amusing acts was that of the company of the Long Noses.

Each of the acrobats had a piece of wood stuck on the front of

his face which gave the appearance of an extremely long nose.

One of the things they had to do as a group was to form a

pyramid with their bodies. But instead of climbing on each

other's shoulders, as is usual, the artists were to stand on top of the

noses. One of the most important positions was in the middle of

the bottom row, since this particular nose supported most of the

weight of the people above him. The man who had always been

in this position had suddenly left the company, so Passepartout

had been chosen to take his place.

He felt rather sad when he put on the fine clothes that he was

to wear - it made him think of his younger days - and when the

long nose was fitted to his face. But, as this nose was going to earn

him something to eat, he felt happier.

Passepartout came in with the first group of acrobats and they

all stretched themselves out on the ground with their noses

pointing to the ceiling. A second group came and stood on the

noses. A third group took their positions on the noses of the

others, then came a fourth, until the pyramid reached the top of

the hall. The music began to play and great was the admiration of

all who were watching. Suddenly, though, the pyramid began to

shake. One of the lower noses disappeared from his key position,

and the whole pyramid fell.

It was Passepartout's fault. He jumped down from the stage

and fell at the feet of a gentleman who was watching, crying: 'Ah!

My master! My master!'

'You?'

'Yes, I.'

'Well, in that case, let us go to the steamer.'

Mr Fogg, Aouda, who was with him, and Passepartout quicklywent outside, where they found Mr Batulcar shouting angrily. He

wanted to be paid for the breaking of the pyramid. Phileas Fogg

calmed him by giving him a number of bank notes. And at half

past six, just as it was about to leave, Mr Fogg and Aouda went on

board the American steamer, followed by Passepartout, who still

had his six-foot-long nose stuck onto his face!

•

It is clear now what had happened at Shanghai. The signals made

by the Tankadere had been noticed by the Yokohama steamer. The

captain of the steamer, hearing the noise of the cannon and

thinking that help was needed, went towards the smaller boat. A

few moments later, Phileas Fogg paid John Bunsby the money

that had been promised. Then Mr Fogg and Aouda and Fix

climbed on the steamer, which made its way first to Nagasaki and

then to Yokohama.

Having arrived there that very morning, 14th November,

Phileas Fogg immediately went on board the Carnatic. There he

received the information, to the great joy of Aouda - perhaps

even of himself, though he gave no sign of it - that Passepartout

had come by that boat and had reached Yokohama the night

before.

Phileas Fogg, who was planning to leave that evening for San

Francisco, began to look for his servant. He visited, but without

success, the French and British consuls. He walked around the

streets of Yokohama and, having almost lost hope of finding

Passepartout, wandered almost by chance into Mr Batulcar's hall.

Passepartout, even in his position on the floor, saw him

immediately, and in his excitement could not keep his nose from

moving. The result of this movement was the fall of the pyramid.

All this Passepartout heard from Aouda, who told him of their

journey from Hong Kong to Yokohama in the company of a Mr

Fix. When he heard the name of Fix, Passepartout made no sign.He thought that the moment had not yet come to tell his master

what had passed between the detective and himself. So, when

giving an account of his own adventures, he simply expressed his

sadness at having had too much drink in a bar in Hong Kong.

Mr Fogg listened to the story coldly and did not answer, but

he gave his servant enough money to get some new clothes.

Passepartout was able to buy clothes on the ship, and an hour later

he looked very different from the long-nosed acrobat of

Yokohama.The boat carrying them from Yokohama to San Francisco was the

General Grant, which belonged to the American Steamship

Company. It was a large steamer, well built and able to travel at

great speed. At the rate of twelve miles an hour it would take only

twenty-one days to cross the Pacific Ocean. Phileas Fogg had

every reason to believe that he would be in San Francisco on 2nd

December, in New York on the 11 th, and that he would reach

London on the 20th, a few hours earlier than the 21st.

There were a good number of people on the boat: English,

Americans, and others.

During the crossing nothing in particular happened. The sea

was calm. Mr Fogg was calm, too, and said little, as usual. Aouda

came to have more and more respect for this man who had done

so much for her. In fact, almost unconsciously, her feelings of

respect were changing to feelings of a different sort.

Whatever her feelings may have been, she was very interested

in this gentleman's plan, and most anxious that nothing might

happen to spoil it. She often had talks with Passepartout, who

soon saw the state of her feelings towards Mr Fogg. He praised his

master's honesty and kindness. Then he calmed her anxietiesabout the journey, saying that the most difficult part was already

over. They had left those strange countries of China and Japan;

and if they crossed America by train and the Atlantic Ocean by

steamer, it would be easy to complete the journey round the

world in good time.

Nine days after leaving Yokohama, Phileas Fogg had gone

round exactly one half of the world. It is true that out of the

eighty days he had used up fifty-two. But we must remember that

if Mr Fogg had done half the journey as measured by the sun, he

had really done more than two-thirds in distance as measured by

the number of miles travelled. From London to Aden, Aden to

Bombay, Calcutta to Singapore, Singapore to Yokohama - that

was a very indirect journey. If we could go round the world as the

sun does, the distance from London to London would be 12,000

miles. But by this indirect journey the distance is 26,000 miles, of

which Mr Fogg had travelled 17,500. From now on the journey

would be almost in a straight line. And Fix was no longer there

to stop him.

It happened, too, that on this day, 23th November, Passepartout

made a discovery that brought him great joy. It will be

remembered that his watch kept London time, and that he

refused to put its hands forward. All the clocks in all the countries

he had passed through, he said, were wrong. Now on this day,

although he had put its hands neither forward nor backward, the

watch showed the same time as the clock on the ship. He wished

that Fix were there so that he could prove to him that his watch

kept the right time after all.

'The silly fool was talking to me about the sun and the moon

and the movement of the earth. If we listened to people like him,

we would have a very funny sort of time. I was certain that one

day the sun would come to agree with my watch!'

But there was something that Passepartout did not know. If his

watch had been marked from one to twenty-four hours (as someclocks are) he would not have been so happy about it. For in that

case, instead of pointing to nine o'clock (as it did), it would have

been pointing to twenty-one hours.

But if Fix had been able to explain this, Passepartout would

not have been able to understand the explanation, or to accept it.

In any case, if the detective had appeared at that moment, it is

probable that Passepartout would have had something to say to

him on quite a different subject.

But where was Fix at that moment?

He was, in fact, on the General Grant.

When he reached Yokohama, he left Mr Fogg, whom he

expected to meet again later in the day, and went immediately to

the British consul. There he found the warrant. It had been

following him all the way from Bombay, and was already forty

days old. It had been sent on from Hong Kong by the Carnatic,

the steamer on which he was believed to be. We may imagine the

disappointment of Fix - the warrant had now become useless

because Mr Fogg was outside the reach of the English law.

'Very well!' Fix said to himself, swallowing his anger. 'The

warrant is of no use here, but it will be of use in England. It looks

as if this bank robber intends to return home after all. Very well,

I will follow him there. As for the money he stole, I hope there

will still be some left. But with the cost of the journey, the

presents he gives, the elephant he bought, and the rest, my man

must have left more than five thousand pounds behind along the

way. It is a good thing that the Bank of England is so rich.'

Having made up his mind, he went to the General Grant, and

was there when Mr Fogg and Aouda came on board. To his great

surprise he also saw Passepartout in his strange clothes and long

nose, so he hid in his cabin. There were so many passengers that

he hoped his enemy would not see him. But today, towards the

front of the ship, he suddenly met him.

Without saying a word, Passepartout jumped on Fix and, tothe great joy of a group of Americans (who immediately began

to bet on the result of the fight), attacked him, striking him again

and again.

When he had hit him a number of times, Passepartout felt

much better and calmer. Fix got up slowly.

'Have you finished?' he asked coldly.

'Yes, for the moment.'

'Then come and have a talk with me.'

'Have a talk with you! I-'

'Yes, if you care about your master.'

Passepartout was so surprised by the calm way in which Fix

spoke that he followed him. They both sat down.

'You have given me a beating. Very well, I expected it. Now

listen to me. Until now I have been your master's enemy, but now

I am on his side.'

'Oh, at last, then, you believe him to be an honest man.'

'No, I don't,' answered Fix coldly, 'I believe him to be a thief.

Be quiet, and let me speak. So long as Fogg was on British soil I

tried to hold him back while I was waiting for the warrant to

arrest him. I did all that I could do to stop him. I sent the priests

from Bombay to Calcutta; I made you drunk at Hong Kong; I

separated you from him and made him miss the boat to

Yokohama.'

Passepartout listened, ready to fly at Fix again.

'Now,' Fix went on, 'Mr Fogg seems to be going back to

England. Very well, I will follow him. But from now on, I will

help him in his journey as much as I have tried to stop his

journey in the past. You see that my plan has changed. It has

changed because it is in my interest to change it. I will add that

your interest is the same as mine, since it is only in England that

you will know whether you are serving an honest man or a thief.'

Passepartout listened carefully to what Fix was saying, and felt

sure that Fix was not going to play any more tricks.'Are we friends?' asked Fix.

'No, not friends,' answered Passepartout, 'but we can help each

other. If you start playing any more games with me, though, I will

certainly break your neck!'

'All right,' agreed the detective calmly.Eleven days later, on 3rd December, the General Grant reached

San Francisco. Mr Fogg was neither a day too late nor a day too

early.

As soon as he got on shore he asked what time the first train

left for New York. The answer was: 'At six o'clock this evening.'

Mr Fogg had, then, a whole day to spend in San Francisco. He

called a carriage and he and his friends drove to the International

Hotel.

After a good meal, Mr Fogg went with Aouda to the British

consul to show his passport and have it signed.

When they came out, Mr Fogg found his servant waiting.

'As we are going to travel through a wild part of the country

where we might be attacked by Indians or train robbers, would it

not be wise to buy a few revolvers with which to protect

ourselves?' asked Passepartout.

Mr Fogg answered that he thought that was not at all

necessary, but Passepartout could go and buy some if he liked.

Phileas Fogg had hardly walked a hundred steps when he met

Fix. The detective seemed to be most surprised at this meeting.

'What a strange thing!' he said, 'that we should meet by chance

like this. To think that we both travelled on the General Grant

without once seeing each other.'

Fix was most pleased, he said, to meet again the gentleman to

whom he owed so much. He was forced to go back to Europeon business, and it would be very pleasant if they could travel

together.

Mr Fogg answered that the honour would be his. Fix, who did

not wish to lose sight of the man he was following, asked to be

allowed to join him in a walk around the city.

So Aouda, Phileas Fogg and Fix walked through the streets.

Before long they saw crowds of excited people. Some were

shouting, 'Long live Kamerfield!' and others, 'Mandiboy for ever!'

'This seems to be an election,' said Fix to Mr Fogg. 'Perhaps it

would be a good idea to keep away from the crowd, or we might

get hurt.' Fix was now very anxious that nothing should happen

to Mr Fogg. It was in his interest to take care of him and protect

him from harm, so that he could arrest him when they reached

England.

'You are right,' answered Phileas Fogg and he, Aouda and Fix

went and stood at the top of some stone steps where they could

see what was going on below.

At that moment the crowd became very excited. People

rushed here and there, shouting loudly. Fix was just going to ask

somebody what all this meant, when a general fight broke out.

Stones and bottles were thrown, and sticks were used freely. A

group of people moved onto the steps below, shouting loudly.

'I think we had better leave,' said Fix.

'They cannot hurt us; we are English-' Mr Fogg began to say,

but before he could finish, another noisy group came up behind

them. They were caught between the two groups, which became

increasingly violent. No escape was possible. Phileas Fogg and

Fix, in protecting the young lady, were knocked this way and that.

Mr Fogg, as calm as ever, tried to defend himself, but a big man

with red hair raised his hand over Mr Fogg to strike a violent

blow. Mr Fogg would have suffered serious damage if Fix had not

received the blow in Mr Fogg's place.

'Fool of an American!' said Mr Fogg, looking at his attacker.'Fool of an Englishman!' answered the other.

'We shall meet again!'

'When you like.Your name?'

'Phileas Fogg.Your name?'

'Stamp W Proctor.'

At that moment the crowd moved on. Fix stood up slowly; his

clothes were torn, but he was not seriously hurt.

'Thank you,' said Mr Fogg to the detective, as soon as they

were out of the crowd.

'Do not thank me,' answered Fix, 'but come with me.'

'Where?'

'To a shop where we can buy some new clothes.'

It was in fact quite necessary to do this; as a result of the fight,

the clothes of both men had been torn to pieces. An hour later,

wearing new hats and coats, they returned to the hotel.

Passepartout was waiting for his master. He was holding the

revolvers that he had been buying. He looked anxious when he

saw Fix with his master, but when Aouda explained to him what

had happened, he became more cheerful. It was clear that Fix was

keeping his promise and was no longer an enemy.

When dinner was over, Mr Fogg sent for a carriage to take the

travellers and their luggage to the station. Mr Fogg said to

Fix:'Do you know anything about this Stamp W Proctor?'

'No,' answered Fix.

'I shall come back from England to find him again,' said Phileas

Fogg. 'It is not right that an Englishman should be treated as he

treated me.'

At a quarter to six the travellers reached the station and found

the train ready to start.

The railway on which they were travelling runs from San

Francisco to New York, a distance of 3,786 miles. As the journey

took seven days, Mr Fogg would reach New York just in time to

take the steamer that left for Liverpool on 11 th December.The travellers left Oakland Station at six o'clock. It was already

dark, and the sky was covered with black clouds. The train did not

move with any great speed; perhaps twenty miles an hour, with

many stops.

Nobody talked much. Passepartout found himself sitting next

to the detective, but he did not speak to him. There was a certain

coldness between the two - and this was only natural.

An hour later it began to snow.

At eight o'clock the travellers were told that it was time to get

the beds ready for the night, and in a few minutes their carriage

looked more like a bedroom. There was only one thing to do, and

that was to sleep. And while the travellers were sleeping, the train

steamed across California.

It took six hours for the train to reach the city of Sacramento.

From San Francisco the country had been fairly flat, but now the

train began to climb into the mountains of Nevada. At seven

o'clock the train passed through Cisco.

An hour later the beds were packed away, and the travellers

looked out of the windows and were able to see the mountainous

country through which they were passing. There were few or no

bridges. The train ran up and round the sides of the mountains or

passed along the bottom of the narrow valleys.

At Reno the travellers stopped for twenty minutes, during

which time they were able to have breakfast. Then they took their

places again in their carriages and looked at the scenery through

which they were passing. At times they saw large numbers of

buffaloes. By crossing the railway line in their thousands, these

animals often force the trains to stop and wait until they have

passed and this, in fact, is what soon happened. At about twelve

o'clock the train came to a place where ten or twelve thousand

buffaloes were walking slowly across the line. It was impossible to

move them or go through this solid body of animals. The only

thing to do was to wait until the line was clearThe travellers watched this strange sight with interest. Phileas

Fogg stayed in his seat and waited patiently. But Passepartout was

terribly angry, and very much wanted to start shooting them with

his revolvers.

'What a terrible country!' he cried. 'A country where animals

like these are allowed to get in the way of trains! I wonder

whether Mr Fogg expected this sort of thing when he planned

his journey. And here is the engine driver afraid of running his

engine through them.'

The engine driver, of course, was wise enough not even to

consider such an action. It would have been useless. He could no

doubt have crushed the first buffaloes, but the engine would soon

have been stopped and probably thrown off the line.

It was three hours before the last of the animals crossed the

railway, and it was dark before the train could go on again.

By 7th December they had gone a long way. On this day they

stopped for a quarter of an hour at Green River Station. It had

been snowing and raining during the night, but as the snow had

half melted it gave no trouble. The bad weather worried

Passepartout, though.

'What a foolish idea it was to go travelling during the winter,'

he said to himself. 'If my master had waited for better weather, he

would have had a better chance of winning his bet.'

But while Passepartout was worrying about the weather,

Aouda began to be frightened about something much more

serious. Looking out of the window, she saw among the group of

travellers Stamp W Proctor, the man who had behaved so roughly

in the election fight at San Francisco. It was only by accident that

he was travelling on the same train, but there he was. 'He must be

prevented,' she thought, 'from meeting Mr Fogg.'

When the train was on its way again, and Mr Fogg had fallen

asleep, Aouda told Fix and Passepartout whom she had seen.

'Proctor on this train!' cried Fix. 'Have no fear; it is my businessrather than Mr Fogg's. After all, I am the one who suffered most.'

'And I shall have something to say to him, too,' added

Passepartout.

'Mr Fix,' said Aouda, 'you may be certain that Mr Fogg will let

nobody take his place in this matter. He said he would even come

back to America to meet this man again. If he sees Mr Proctor,

we cannot prevent them from fighting, and this might not end

well. They must not meet each other.'

'You are right,' said Fix. 'A fight might ruin everything.

Whether he won or lost, Mr Fogg would be delayed, and-'

'And that would suit the gentlemen of the Reform Club,'

added Passepartout. 'In four days we shall be in New York! Well,

if during those four days Mr Fogg does not leave his carriage, we

may hope that he will not meet this man.'

At this moment Mr Fogg woke up, and the discussion came to

an end. Later, without being heard by his master or Aouda,

Passepartout said to the detective: 'Would you really fight instead

of him?'

'I will do everything to bring him back alive to Europe,'

answered Fix.

Was there any way to keep Mr Fogg in the carriage to prevent

him from meeting this Proctor? It should not be difficult, for Mr

Fogg did not enjoy moving around. In any case, the detective had

a good plan and, a few minutes later, said to him: 'Time passes

very slowly in the train.'

'Yes,' answered the other, 'but it passes all the same.'

'On the boat,' said Fix, 'you used to play cards.'

'Yes,' answered Phileas Fogg, 'but here it would be difficult. I

have neither cards nor people to play with.'

'Oh we can easily buy the cards; they are sold on all American

trains. As for people to play with, if by chance the lady plays ... '

'Oh, yes,' answered the lady. 'I know the game that Mr Fogg

likes playing.''So do I,' said Fix. 'In fact I am quite good at cards. So perhaps

the three of us ... '

'Very well; if you would like to,' answered Phileas Fogg, who

was very pleased to have the chance of playing again.

Passepartout was sent to get the cards, and soon came back

with everything that was necessary for the game. A table was

brought and a cloth was laid over it, and they started playing.

Aouda really played very well, and Mr Fogg told her so. As for

Fix, he was a first-class player.

'Now,' thought Passepartout, 'everything is going to be fine. He

will not move from the table.'At eleven o'clock in the morning the train had climbed to one

of the highest points on its journey through the Rocky

Mountains. Two hundred miles further on they would reach

those wide stretches of flat country that lie between the

mountains and the Atlantic coast. So in a few hours they would

have passed the difficult and dangerous part of their journey

through the mountains.

After a good meal the travellers began playing cards again. But

before long the train moved more and more slowly and then

came to a complete stop. Passepartout put his head out of the

window and could see nothing that might explain the delay.

There was no station in the area.

For a moment Aouda and Fix were afraid that Mr Fogg would

want to get off the train. But he only turned to Passepartout and

said: 'Go and see what's the matter.'

Passepartout jumped out. Thirty or forty travellers had got off,

and among them was Stamp W Proctor.

The train had stopped in front of a red signal. The enginedriver and the guard were talking very seriously to a man who

had been sent from the next station to stop the train. Some of the

travellers came up and joined in the discussion - among them

Mr Stamp W Proctor, with his rough, loud voice.

Passepartout heard the man say: 'No, you can't possibly get

past! The bridge at Medicine Bow is in need of repair, and will

certainly not support the weight of the train.'

The bridge of which they were talking was one that hung

across a deep river about a mile further on. What the man said

was clearly quite true; the bridge was unsafe.

Passepartout, not daring to go and inform his master, stayed

and listened.

'Well,' said Mr Proctor, 'we are not going to stand here for ever

in the snow!'

'Sir,' answered the guard, 'we have sent a telegram to Omaha

asking them to send a train to meet us at Medicine Bow, but it

can hardly get here in less than six hours.'

'Six hours!' cried Passepartout.

'Yes,' said the guard. 'In any case it will take us that time to

walk as far as the station.'

'Walk?' cried all the travellers.

'How far away is the station, then?' asked someone.

'It is only a mile away, but it is on the other side of the river.

We shall have to walk to reach a safe crossing. It will be a distance

of fifteen miles in all.'

'A fifteen-mile walk in the snow!' cried Stamp W Proctor.

Then he started shouting, swearing, calling the railway company

and its officials all the bad names he could think of. Passepartout,

who was equally angry, felt like joining him. But here was

something that it was no use fighting about. All his master's bank

notes were useless in the face of this difficulty.

The passengers were extremely disappointed and upset. Not

only would they be late, but they would also have to walk fifteenmiles through the snow. The noise of their complaints would

certainly have been noticed by Phileas Fogg if that gentleman had

not been so interested in his game.

Passepartout saw that he would have to tell his master what

had happened. He was just walking towards the carriage, when

the engine driver, a true American by the name of Foster, raised

his voice and said: 'Gentlemen, there is one way of getting across.'

'Across the bridge?' asked somebody.

'Yes, across the bridge.'

'With our train?' asked Proctor.

'With our train.'

Passepartout stopped, and listened to what was being said.

'But the bridge is unsafe!'

'That doesn't matter,' said the engine driver. 'I believe that by

sending the train across at full speed, there will be a good chance

of getting over.'

'Well, what a crazy idea!' thought Passepartout.

But quite a number of the travellers very much liked the idea,

particularly Stamp W Proctor.

'Quite reasonable and quite natural!' he cried. 'Why,' he went

on, 'there are engineers who are now designing trains that,

travelling at full speed, can cross rivers without any bridge at all!'

In the end all the travellers agreed to the idea. Passepartout was

too surprised to speak. He was ready to attempt anything in order

to get across the river, but this seemed to him to be rather too

'American'.

'Besides,' he thought, 'there is a much simpler way, and these

people have not even thought of it.'

'Sir,' he said to one of the travellers, 'the plan seems to me a

little dangerous, but-'

'There is nothing more to be said,' answered the man. 'The

engine driver says we can get across, and that is an end of the

matter.''Yes, I am sure we can get across,' said Passepartout, 'but would

it not be less dangerous-'

'What's that! Dangerous?' cried Proctor. 'Don't you

understand? At full speed!'

'Yes, I understand,' said Passepartout, trying again to finish

what he wanted to say. 'But don't you think it would be a better

idea-'

'What? What's that? What's he talking about?' everybody

shouted.

'Are you afraid?' asked Proctor.

'Afraid? I, afraid?' cried Passepartout. 'I'll show these Americans

whether a Frenchman is afraid!'

'Take your seats! Take your seats!' shouted the guard.

'All right! All right!' shouted Passepartout to him. 'But I can't

help thinking that it would be safer for us to walk over the bridge

first, and then to let the train follow!'

But nobody heard this wise advice, and in any case nobody

would have agreed to the idea.

The travellers all went back to their seats, and Passepartout

went back to his, without saying anything of what had happened.

The card players were sitting there thinking only of their game.

The engine driver took the train back nearly a mile, in the

same way as a jumper steps back before he makes his jump. Then

he made it go forward again, more and more quickly, until the

train was moving at a frightening speed. It seemed to be going at

about 100 miles an hour. It flew over the bridge! Nobody even

saw the bridge - the train simply jumped from one side of the

river to the other, and the driver could not stop it until it was five

miles the other side of the station.

But the train had hardly crossed over the river when the

bridge fell with a crash into the water below .That evening the train reached the highest point of its journey. It

now had only to go down until it reached the Atlantic. The

travellers had come 1,382 miles from San Francisco in three days

and three nights. In another four days and four nights they should

be at New York.

The next day the three companions were playing cards as

usual. None of them complained about the length of the journey.

Fix had begun by winning a few pounds, and was now losing

them again. Mr Fogg held very good cards, and he was just going

to play one of them when a voice was heard behind him saying:

'Don't play that; play a diamond instead.'

Mr Fogg, Aouda and Fix looked up to see Stamp W Proctor

standing there.

'Oh, it's you, is it, Mr Englishman!' cried he. 'You are the one

who wants to play a heart.'

'Yes, and I shall play it,' answered Phileas Fogg, as he did so.

'Well, I want you to play the diamond.' And the man bent

forward to take hold of it, adding, 'You don't know how to play

this game.'

'Perhaps there is another game that I know better,' said Phileas

Fogg, getting up from his seat.

'Well, you can try,' replied Proctor with an ugly smile on his

face.

Aouda looked very frightened. She took hold of Mr Fogg's

arm, but he gently pushed her away. Passepartout was ready to

throw himself on the American, but Fix stood up, went to

Proctor, and said: 'The quarrel is between you and me. You were

not only disrespectful towards me, but you even struck me.'

'Mr Fix,' said Mr Fogg, 'I beg your pardon, but this is my

business alone. This man will answer to me for his behaviour.'

'When and where you like,' replied the American.

Aouda tried to hold Mr Fogg back, but without success. The

detective attempted to take the quarrel on himself. Passepartoutwanted to throw the American out of the window, but a sign

from his master stopped him. Phileas Fogg left the carriage, and

the American followed him.

'Sir,' said Mr Fogg to his enemy, 'after our meeting in San

Francisco I made up my mind to come back to America to find

you as soon as I had finished the business that calls me to

England.'

'Really!'

'Will you meet me in six months' time?'

'Why not in six years' time?'

'I said six months,' answered Mr Fogg.

'You want to escape from me!' cried Stamp W Proctor. 'You

will fight me now or never.'

'Very well,' answered Mr Fogg. 'You are going to New York?'

'No.'

'Chicago?'

'No.'

'Omaha?'

'That's no business of yours. Do you know Plum Creek?'

'No,' answered Mr Fogg.

'It's the next station. The train will be there in an hour's time.

It will wait there for ten minutes. That will give us time enough

to fight.'

'Agreed,' said Mr Fogg. 'I will stop at Plum Creek.'

'And you will stay there!' said the American, with an ugly

laugh.

'Who knows, sir?' answered Mr Fogg, returning to his seat.

'People who talk loudly are not to be feared,' he remarked to the

anxious Aouda, to calm her. Then he took Fix on one side and

asked him to help him prepare for the fight when the time came.

Fix could not refuse, and Phileas Fogg picked up his cards and

went on with his game.

At eleven o'clock the train reached Plum Creek Station andstopped. Mr Fogg got up and, followed by Fix, left the carriage.

Passepartout went too, carrying a pair of revolvers.

They had not been outside long when the door opened and

Mr Proctor came out with a friend. But just as the two enemies

were preparing themselves, the guard ran up, saying: 'Nobody is

to get out here, gentlemen.'

'Why not?' asked Proctor, angrily.

'We are twenty minutes late, and the train is not going to wait.'

'But I have to fight this gentleman.'

'I am sorry,' said the guard, 'but we are starting immediately.

There is the bell ringing.'

As he said this, the train started to move and the two men

jumped on.

'I am really very sorry, gentlemen,' said the guard. 'I would like

to have helped you. But as you have had no time to fight at Plum

Creek, is there any reason why you should not fight on the train?'

'Perhaps that would not suit this gentleman,' said Proctor with

an unpleasant laugh.

'It will suit me perfectly,' answered Phileas Fogg.

'We are certainly in America!' thought Passepartout. 'And the

guard is a perfect gentleman!' He followed his master.

The two men, their friends and the guard passed through the

carriages until they reached the end of the train. In the last

carriage there were only about ten people. The official asked

these passengers whether they would be good enough to give up

the carriage for a few minutes to two gentlemen who wished to

fight.

Well, of course! They were only too happy to be of any service

to the two gentlemen, and immediately went out and stood in

the passage.

The carriage was fifty feet long, and very suitable for the

purpose. The two men could walk towards each other between

the seats and shoot at each other without difficulty. Mr Fogg andMr Proctor, each carrying two revolvers, would go inside. The

two supporters would shut the door and stay outside. A signal

would be given, and shooting would begin. Then, after two

minutes, the door would be opened and what was left of the two

gentlemen would be carried out. Nothing could be simpler.But before the signal could be given, wild cries and shots were

heard. The shots certainly did not come from the carriage in

which the two gentlemen had just been shut. Bang! Bang! Bang!

The shots came from the outside - all along the train. Cries of

terror were heard from one end of the train to the other.

Mr Proctor and Mr Fogg, with their revolvers in their hands,

rushed out towards the front of the train, where shouts and shots

were growing louder at every moment. They were under attack

by Sioux Indians.

This was not the first time that these Indians had attacked a

train, and more than once before they had been successful. In

their usual way, a hundred of them had jumped on the steps of

the moving train and had climbed up onto the roof of the

carnages.

From these positions on and around the train, they fired their

guns. The passengers answered with their revolvers. Some of the

Indians had jumped on the engine and had injured the engine

driver. One of them tried to stop the train but, not knowing how

to do so, had opened the steam pipe instead of shutting it. The

result was that the train was flying along at full speed.

Soon the Sioux forced their way into the carriages and were

fighting with the passengers. The cries and shots continued

without stopping.

But the passengers defended themselves bravely. Among thesewas Aouda. With a revolver in her hand, she fired through the

broken windows at any Indian that came in sight. Twenty or more

of the Indians fell dead or wounded on the railway line, and the

wheels crushed any who fell between the carriages. Several of the

passengers were also badly wounded, and were lying on the seats.

The end must come before long. Fighting had been going on

for ten minutes, and the Sioux would win unless the train were

able to stop. Fort Kearney Station was only two miles away, and

there were soldiers there; but if the train passed this point, the

Sioux would certainly become masters of the train.

The guard was fighting at Mr Fogg's side when a shot struck

him and he fell. He cried out: 'We are all lost if the train does not

stop in five minutes.'

'The train will stop,' said Phileas Fogg, preparing to rush out of

the carriage.

'Stay where you are, sir,' cried Passepartout. 'This is my job.'

Phileas Fogg had no time to stop the brave man who, opening

one of the outer doors without being seen by the Indians,

managed to climb down under one of the carriages.

While the fight went on, and with shots flying in the air over

his head, Passepartout made his way forward under the carriages,

holding on here and there, and crossing from one place to

another until he got to the front part of the train. There, hanging

on by one hand, he managed to undo the heavy iron hooks that

joined the carriages to the engine. The train, now separated from

the engine, began to run more and more slowly, while the engine

flew forwards with still greater speed.

The train carried on for a few minutes but soon came to a stop

less than 300 feet from the station. Hearing the shots, soldiers

hurried up to the train. The Indians did not wait for them; they

all ran off

When the passengers were counted, it was found that three did

not answer to their names, and among them was the Frenchmanwhose bravery had saved the train. What had happened to them?

Had they been killed in the fight? Were they prisoners of the

Indians? Nobody knew. One of the wounded passengers was Mr

Proctor, who had fought bravely. He was taken with the others to

the station, where they received every care.

Aouda was safe. Phileas Fogg was safe, too, although he had

been fighting all the time. Fix was slightly wounded in the arm.

But Passepartout was not to be found; and tears ran down the

face of the young lady who owed her life to him now for the

second time.

Mr Fogg stood there without speaking. He had to make a

serious decision. If his servant had been taken prisoner, it was his

duty to try to get him back.

'I shall find him, dead or alive,' he said simply to Aouda.

'Oh, Mr Fogg,' cried Aouda, taking his hands in hers and

covering them with tears.

'I shall find him alive,' added Mr Fogg, 'if we waste no time.'

This decision meant that Phileas Fogg would lose everything.

If he were only one day late he would fail to catch the boat at

New York. His bet was lost. But it was his duty, and he had made

up his mind.

A hundred soldiers and their captain were at the station in

order to defend it against any attack by Indians.

'Sir,' said Mr Fogg to the captain, 'three people have

disappeared.'

'Dead?' asked the captain.

'Dead or prisoners,' answered Phileas Fogg. 'That is what we

must find out. Do you intend to follow the Indians?'

'That is a serious matter, sir,' answered the captain. 'These

Indians may continue to run for two or three hundred miles. I

cannot leave this station while it is under my protection.'

'Sir,' said Phileas Fogg, 'it is a question of the lives of three

men.''Quite true, but can I put the lives of fifty men in danger to

save three?'

'I don't know whether you can, but that is what you ought to

do.'

'Sir,' answered the captain. 'I will not allow anybody here to

teach me my duty.'

'Very well, then,' said Phileas Fogg coldly. 'I will go alone.'

'You!' cried Fix, who had come up to the two men. 'You

intend to go after these Indians alone?'

'Do you think that I am going to leave that brave man who

saved the lives of everybody here to die? I shall go.'

'Well, sir,' cried the captain. 'You will not go alone. No, you

have a brave heart. Now! Who offers to join this gentleman?

Thirty men are wanted!' he said, turning to his soldiers.

The whole company stepped forward. The captain only had to

choose among them. Thirty were named, and an officer was put

at their head.

'Thank you, Captain!' said Mr Fogg.

'You will allow me to come with you?' asked Fix.

'You may do as you like,' Fogg answered. 'But if you wish to

be of real service to me, you will stay by the side of this lady and

take care of her.'

The detective's face turned white. What! Separate himself from

the man he was following so patiently? Let him go off alone into

the wild country? Fix looked at Mr Fogg for a moment and then

he looked away from Fogg's calm, serious face.

'I will stay,' he said.

A few minutes later Mr Fogg gave the young woman his bag,

telling her to take great care of it; he shook hands with her, and

went off with the officer and his little company of men.

Before leaving, he said to the soldiers, 'There's a thousand

pounds for you if we save the prisoners.'

It was then a few minutes after middayAouda had gone into the waiting room of the station, and

there, alone, she thought of Phileas Fogg, this kind and brave

man. He had given up his fortune and was now putting his life in

danger. In her eyes he was a great and honourable man.

The detective Fix did not think that way at all, and could not

hide his feelings. He walked up and down outside the station,

feeling foolish for having let Fogg leave.

'I was a fool!' he thought. 'Fogg knows who I am! He has

gone, and will not come back. Where shall I find him again? How

could I have thought ofletting him go; I, who have in my pocket

the warrant for his arrest?'

Those were the thoughts of Fix while the hours slowly passed.

He did not know what to do. Sometimes he felt like telling

Aouda everything. Sometimes he felt like going off across the

snow to catch this Mr Fogg. It would not be impossible to find

him again. He could still follow the footprints of the soldiers, but

before long the falling snow would cover them again.

Then Fix felt like giving everything up for lost and going

straight back to England. If he decided to do that, there was

nothing to prevent him, because at two o'clock, while the snow

was falling heavily, the noise of an engine was heard corning from

the east. But no train was expected from the east yet; the help for

which they had asked could not come so quickly, and the train

from Omaha to San Francisco would not arrive before the next

day.

It was the engine of their train. It had rushed on for many

miles, and then the fire had died for want of coal. There was no

more steam, and an hour later the engine, running more and

more slowly, had come to a stop twenty miles on the other side

of Kearney Station.

The engine driver had not been killed; and after some time

had passed, he had come to his senses. When he found that he was

alone and that the engine was no longer pulling the train, heguessed what had happened. What he did not know was how the

engine had become separated from the train.

He could go on to Omaha; that was the wisest thing to do. He

could go back towards the train; that was dangerous, since the

Indians might still be on the train. The driver soon made up his

mind. He had to go back. Coal and wood were put on the fire;

the water soon became hot again, and before long there was

enough steam to make the engine run back to Kearney Station.

The passengers were pleased to see the engine once more at

the head of the train. They could now continue their journey.

Aouda, though, went up to the guard.

'You are leaving?' she asked.

'Immediately.'

'But the prisoners, our unfortunate travelling companions?'

'I am sorry we cannot wait for them. We are already three

hours late.'

'And when does the next train come from San Francisco?'

'Tomorrow evening.'

'Tomorrow evening? But that will be too late.You must wait.'

'That is impossible,' answered the guard. 'If you want to come

with us, you must get on the train now.'

'I shall not come,' answered the lady.

Fix had heard this talk. A few moments before, when there was

no way ofleaving, he had wanted to get away. Now that the train

was there, and he had only to take his place in the carriage, he no

longer wanted to leave. The struggle in his mind began all over

again. He felt a terrible sense of failure.

The passengers had taken their places on the train. Among

them was the wounded Mr Proctor, whose condition was serious.

The noise of steam was heard. The bell rang, the train moved out

of the station and was soon lost to view in the snow.

The detective had stayed behind.

Some hours passed. The weather was bad and it was very cold.Fix was sitting on a seat in the station; he might have been asleep.

Aouda, in spite of the snowstorm, kept going out of the room.

She walked to the end of the platform, looked out and listened.

But she saw and heard nothing.

Evening came. The little company of soldiers did not come

back. Where were they? Had they been able to catch up with the

Indians? Had there been a fight? The captain was very anxious,

but tried not to show that he was worried.

Night came. The snow was no longer falling so heavily, but it

got colder and colder. No sound could be heard.

All night Aouda, with a heavy heart and fearing the worst,

walked about outside. In her imagination she could see a

thousand dangers. Fix did not move, but he, too, was awake. At

one point a man came up to him and said something. But Fix

simply answered, 'No.'

In this way the night passed. The sun rose in a grey sky. Phileas

Fogg and the soldiers had gone towards the south, but nothing

was to be seen to the south except the snow.

The captain did not know what to do. Should he send a second

company to help the first? At last he called one of his officers, and

gave him orders to send out a few men towards the south - and

at that moment shots were heard. Was it a signal? The soldiers

rushed out and saw, half a mile away, the others corning back.

Mr Fogg was at the head of the company, and by his side were

Passepartout and the two other travellers, saved from the Sioux.

There had been a battle ten miles to the south of Kearney.

Shortly before the soldiers had reached them, Passepartout and

his two companions had started fighting against those who had

taken them prisoners.The Frenchman had already knocked three

of them down when his master and the soldiers rushed up to

help him.

At the station they were all welcomed with shouts of joy, and

Phileas Fogg gave the soldiers the reward that he had promisedthem. Passepartout said more than once: 'I have certainly cost my

master a lot of money!'

Fix looked at Mr Fogg without saying a word. It would be

difficult to say what thoughts were passing through his mind.

Aouda went up to Phileas Fogg, took his hands and pressed them

between her own, unable to speak.

As soon as he reached the station, Passepartout looked round

for the train. He was expecting to see it there ready to leave for

Omaha, and hoped that they would be able to make up for the

time that they had lost.

'Where's the train?' he cried.

'Gone,' answered Fix.

'And the next train?' asked Phileas Fogg.

'Will not come before this evening.'

'Ah!' was all that the gentleman answered.