A Sledge with Sails

Captain Speedy did not know what to think. Sixteen hundred

pounds to be earned without changing any plans; it was well

worth the trouble of forgetting his dislike of passengers. Besides,

passengers at four hundred pounds each are no longer passengers,

but valuable goods.

'I am leaving at nine o'clock,' said Captain Speedy simply, 'and

you and your people will be here?'

'By nine o'clock we will be on board,' replied Mr Fogg.

It was half past eight. Fogg left the Henrietta, took a carriage

back to the hotel, and picked up Aouda, Passepartout, and even

Mr Fix, to whom he kindly offered transport. All this was done

by the gentleman with the calmness which never left him even

when he was in the greatest trouble.

By the time the Henrietta was ready to sail, all four were on

board. An hour later the steamer left the Hudson River. During

the day she steamed along the shore of Long Island, and then she

went out onto the open sea.

At twelve o'clock the next day, 13th December, a man began

giving orders to the ship's officers, telling them in what direction

the ship had to go.You might suppose that this man was Captain

Speedy. Not at all. It was Phileas Fogg! Captain Speedy himself

was locked up in his cabin and was roaring with anger - which

was not surprising.

What had happened was very simple. Phileas Fogg wanted to

go to Liverpool; the captain would not take him there. ThenPhileas Fogg had agreed to pay to go to Bordeaux, and during the

thirty hours that he had been on board he had spent money so

cleverly and wisely that the officers and men - who very much

disliked their captain - belonged to him. And that is why Phileas

Fogg, and not Captain Speedy, was master of the ship; why the

captain was shut up in his cabin; and why, lastly, the Henrietta was

making her way not towards Bordeaux but towards Liverpool.

Seeing Mr Fogg sail the ship, it was very clear that he had once

been a sailor. But how this adventure would end, nobody could

tell.

Aouda felt very anxious about it, although she said nothing.

Fix was so surprised that he too said nothing. Passepartout found

the whole affair extremely exciting!

'Between eleven and twelve miles an hour,' Captain Speedy

had said, and this seemed to be true.

If, then, the sea did not get too rough, if the wind did not blow

from the east, and if there was no accident to the ship, the

Henrietta would in the nine days, counting from 12th December

to the 2lst, cross the 3,000 miles separating New York from

Liverpool.

At first conditions were good. The wind was not too strong,

and blew from the right direction. The sails were raised, and the

Henrietta travelled as fast as any of the regular steamers .

•

Passepartout was very, very happy, preferring not to think about

what might happen later. The officers and men had never seen

anyone so happy and excited. He made friends with the sailors,

calling them by all sorts of friendly names, and giving them all

kinds of good things to drink. He made others feel as happy as

himself. He had forgotten the past, with its troubles and dangers.

He thought only of the end of the journey, which was so near,

and he sometimes became terribly impatient.Fix did not understand anything at all. The taking of the

Henrietta, the buying of her officers and men, and Fogg behaving

like a regular sailor - this was too much for him. He did not

know what to think. But, after all, a man who began by stealing

fifty-five thousand pounds could finish by stealing a ship. Of

course, he really believed that Fogg was not going to Liverpool at

all, but to some part of the world where a robber might find a safe

place to live. This plan now seemed most reasonable, and Fix

began to be sorry about having any involvement in the affair.

As for Captain Speedy, he kept on roaring in his cabin, and

Passepartout, whose duty it was to give him his food, did it only

with the greatest care, in spite of his great strength.On the 13th they passed close by the island of Newfoundland.

This is a dangerous part of the Atlantic. Here, particularly during

the winter, there is a lot of mist. There were signs that the weather

was going to change. During the night it had grown colder, and

at the same time the wind began to blow from the south-east.

This was a misfortune. Mr Fogg, in order not to be driven off

course, had to take down the sails and to use more steam. But the

ship went more slowly because of the state of the sea. Long waves

broke against the ship and made her roll violently. The wind grew

stronger and stronger until it was blowing a storm. For two days

Passepartout was very frightened. But Phileas Fogg was a daring

sailor, who knew how to win battles against the sea. The Henrietta,

whenever she could rise with the waves, passed over them, but

the water often poured across her from end to end.

The next day, 16th December, was the seventy-fifth day that

had passed since leaving London. The Henrietta was not seriously

late, half of the crossing was almost over, and the worst part of itwas certainly behind them. In summer, success would have been

certain. In winter, they had to trust to the weather. Passepartout

said nothing, but in his heart he had hopes. 'If we cannot depend

on the wind,' he thought, 'we can at least depend on steam.'

On this day, though, the chief engineer came up from below,

met Mr Fogg, and had a very serious talk with him. Without

knowing why, Passepartout felt worried. He would have given

one of his ears to have heard, with the other, what was being said.

But he did catch a few of his master's words: 'You are certain of

what you say?'

'I am certain, sir,' answered the other. 'Do not forget that, since

we left, all our boilers have been at the highest possible

temperature, and although we had enough coal to travel in the

usual way from New York to Bordeaux, we have not enough to

go under full steam from New York to Liverpool.'

'I will think the matter over,' replied Mr Fogg.

Passepartout understood, and was terribly frightened. The coal

was corning to an end.

'Ah! If my master can get over that difficulty,' he said to

himself, 'he will certainly be a great man!'

He could not help telling the detective the state of things.

'Then,' answered Fix, 'you believe that we are going to

Liverpool?'

'Of course.'

'Fool,' answered Fix, as he turned away.

And now what was Phileas Fogg going to do? It was difficult

to guess. But it appeared that this calm gentleman had decided on

a plan, for that evening he sent for the engineer and said to him:

'Keep your fires burning, and keep going in the same direction

until there's no more coal left.'

At about twelve o'clock Phileas Fogg ordered Passepartout to

go and bring Captain Speedy to him. Passepartout did not like

having to do that, and he went down below, saying to himself 'Itis quite certain that I shall find him completely wild with anger!'

A few minutes later Captain Speedy came running up on deck

shouting and roaring. He looked as if he were going to burst.

'Where are we?' were the first words he said in his terrible

anger. 'Where are we?' he roared again.

'Seven hundred and seventy miles from Liverpool,' answered

Mr Fogg, with great calmness.

'Thief!' cried Andrew Speedy.

'I have sent for you, sir-'

'Robber!'

'Sir,' continued Phileas Fogg, 'I have sent for you to ask you to

sell me your ship.'

'No!'

'I am going to burn her.'

'To burn my ship!'

'At least the wooden parts, since we have no more coal.'

'Burn my ship!' cried Captain Speedy, who was so angry now

that he could hardly speak. 'A ship that is worth ten thousand

pounds!'

'Here are twelve thousand pounds,' said Phileas Fogg, holding

the money out to him.

The result of this offer was to make Andrew Speedy forget his

anger and all his reasons for complaint against Mr Fogg. His ship

was twenty years old. It might in fact be worth selling the ship.

'And I can keep what is left of the ship after you have burnt

the wooden parts?' he asked, in a strangely soft voice.

'Yes, everything made of metal will still be yours.'

'Then I agree.' And Andrew Speedy took the money and

counted it.

During this conversation Passepartout's face had turned white.

Twelve thousand pounds spent, and Fogg was still going to give

back to the seller all the metal parts; that is, almost the whole

value of the ship.When Andrew Speedy had put the money in his pocket, Mr

Fogg said to him: 'Sir, all this will not surprise you when I tell you

that I shall lose twenty thousand pounds if I am not in London

on 21st December at a quarter to nine in the evening. Now I was

not able to catch the regular steamer from New York, and since

you would not take me to Liverpool-'

'And I did well to say no,' cried Andrew Speedy, 'because by

doing so I have gained at least eight thousand pounds.'

'Now this ship belongs to me?' asked Fogg.

'Certainly, from top to bottom; that is to say, all the wood, you

understand.'

'Very well. Cut away the wood and put it on the fires.'

One can easily imagine how much of this wood was needed

to get enough steam.

The next day, 1 9th December, the sailors continued to burn

what could be burnt. By the following day, the 20th, almost all

the woodwork above the waterline had been burned. But on this

day the coast of Ireland came into sight.

At ten o'clock in the evening the ship was passing

Queenstown. Phileas Fogg had only twenty-four hours to reach

London! This was the time that the Henrietta needed to reach

Liverpool, and there was little or no more steam.

'Sir,' said Captain Speedy, who had come to be interested in

Mr Fogg's plan, 'I am really very sorry for you. Everything is

against you. We are only off Queenstown.'

'Ah!' said Mr Fogg. 'Those are the lights of Queenstown?'

'Yes.'

'Can we go into the port?'

'Not for three hours. Only at high water.'

'Let us wait,' Phileas Fogg replied calmly, without letting it be

seen on his face that he had one last plan to help him succeed!

Queenstown is where the steamers coming from America

leave the mail. The letters are carried to Dublin by express trains.From Dublin they are sent to Liverpool by very fast ships,

arriving in Liverpool twelve hours before the fastest ships of the

steamship companies.

Phileas Fogg meant to use these twelve hours. Instead of

reaching Liverpool by the Henrietta on the evening of the next

day, he would be there by twelve o'clock, and so he would have

enough time to get to London before a quarter to nine in the

evenmg.

Towards one o'clock in the morning the Henrietta came into

Queenstown port at high water, and Phileas Fogg, having

received a most friendly shake of the hand from Captain Speedy,

gave him what was left of his ship, which was still worth half of

what he had sold it for!

The passengers landed immediately. They jumped into the

train at Queenstown at half past one in the morning, reached

Dublin just as it was beginning to get light, and hurried on board

one of those famous steamers which, instead of rising with the

waves, always pass right through them.

At twenty minutes to twelve, on 21st December, Phileas Fogg

landed in Liverpool. He was now only six hours from London.

But at that moment Fix walked up to him, put his hand on his

shoulder, and said: 'Your name, I believe, is Phileas Fogg.'

'Yes.'

'In the name of the Queen, I arrest you.'Phileas Fogg was in prison. They had taken him to the police

station in Liverpool and he was going to spend the night there.

The next day he would be taken to London.

At the moment of the arrest Passepartout tried to throw

himself on the detective, but he was held back by the waitingpolicemen. Aouda, terrified at what she saw, understood nothing,

so Passepartout explained the matter to her. Mr Fogg, this honest

and brave gentleman to whom she owed her life, had been

arrested as a thief. The lady cried out that such a charge was

impossible, but she soon saw that she could do nothing to save

the one who had saved her.

As for Fix, he had arrested Mr Fogg because it was his duty to

arrest him, whether he was guilty or not. The law would decide

the matter.

Then the terrible thought came to Passepartout that it was he

who was the cause of this misfortune. After all, why had he

hidden the matter from Mr Fogg? When Fix had informed him,

Passepartout, of who he was and what he was going to do, why

had he not told his master? If his master had known what he was

accused of, he could certainly have proved to Fix that he was not

guilty. In any case Mr Fogg would not have helped Fix to follow

him or borne the cost of his travelling! As he thought of his

foolishness in saying nothing, the poor man felt terribly guilty.

Tears poured from his eyes. It was painful to watch.

In spite of the cold, Aouda and he had stayed outside the police

station. Neither of them would leave the spot; they were so

anxious to see Mr Fogg once again.

Mr Fogg had lost everything just as he was going to win. He

had reached Liverpool at twenty minutes to twelve on 21st

December. He had until a quarter to nine to get to the Reform

Club - that is to say, nine hours and fifteen minutes - and the

journey to London was one of six hours.

Anybody who could have seen Mr Fogg in the police station

would have found him sitting quietly, on a wooden seat, without

anger and perfectly calm. There he waited. What was he waiting

for? Had he any hope of success?

Mr Fogg had put his watch carefully on a table in front of him,

and he looked at it from time to time. Not a word escaped fromhim. In any case his position was a terrible one. There were only

two possibilities:

As an honest man, Phileas Fogg had lost everything that he

owned.

As a dishonest man, he had been caught.

Had he any idea of escaping from his prison? Perhaps so, for at

a certain moment he walked round the room examining it. But

the door was solidly locked, and the window could not be

opened. He sat down again and waited.

One o'clock struck. Mr Fogg noticed that his watch was two

minutes faster than the clock.

Two o'clock. If he could board a train now, it would not be

too late to get to the Reform Club by twenty minutes to nine.

At twenty-eight minutes to three, a noise was heard outside, a

noise of opening doors. He could hear voices. The door opened,

and he saw Aouda, Passepartout and Fix, who ran towards him.

Fix was out of breath, his hair was in disorder. He could hardly

speak.

'Sir ... sir ... forgive me ... a mistake ... somebody who

looked like you ... The thief ... arrested three days ago ... You

... are ... free!'

Phileas Fogg was free. He went up to the detective. He looked

him full in the face, and then, making the only sudden movement

that he had ever made in his life, knocked the unfortunate

detective down.

Fix, lying on the ground, said nothing. He had got the reward

that he deserved. Mr Fogg, Aouda and Passepartout went out.

They threw themselves into a carriage and in a few moments

reached Liverpool Station.

Phileas Fogg asked whether there was a train leaving for

London. It was twenty minutes to three. The train had left thirty-

five minutes earlier. Phileas Fogg then ordered a special train.

There were several engines ready for such a journey, butarrangements could not be made immediately, and the special

train could not leave before three o'clock.

At three o'clock, Phileas Fogg, having said something to the

engine driver about a certain reward for speed, was on his way to

London in the company of the young lady and his brave servant.

It was necessary to cover the distance between Liverpool and

London in five hours. This is quite possible when the line is clear

from end to end. But several times the train was forced to stop,

and when the train came into the station at London, every clock

showed the time to be ten minutes to nine.

Phileas Fogg, having completed his journey round the world,

was five minutes late.

He had lost.The next day the people who lived in Savile Row would have

been very surprised if they had been told that Mr Fogg had come

home. The doors and windows were all shut, and the house did

not look as if anyone were there.

When he had left the station, Phileas Fogg had given orders to

Passepartout to buy what was necessary for meals and he had then

gone home. He had received this final blow with his usual

calmness. All was lost, and the detective was to blame. Having

successfully done what he had hoped to do, in spite of all

difficulties and dangers, and with time to do good on the way, to

fail at the moment of reaching the end of his journey, to fail

because of something most unexpected and which was no fault

of his own; that was terrible. Hardly anything was left of the large

sum that he had taken away with him. All the money he now had

in the world was the twenty thousand pounds lying in his bank,

and this he owed to members of the Reform Club. Having spent

so much on his journey, the winning of the bet would not have

made him any richer - and it is probable that he had not wishedto become any richer - but the losing of the bet left him without

any money at all. He had made up his mind, though. He knew

what he was going to do.

A room in the house in Savile Row was prepared for Aouda,

who was extremely unhappy. From certain words that she had

heard Mr Fogg say, she guessed that he was thinking of putting an

end to his life. For this reason Passepartout watched his master

closely.

The night passed. Mr Fogg had gone to bed, but had he slept?

Aouda could not sleep at all. Passepartout had watched, like a

loyal dog, at his master's door all night.

Next morning Mr Fogg called him and told him to make

Aouda's breakfast. He asked to be excused from seeing her, as he

needed to put his business in order. He would not come down,

but in the evening he would like to speak to Aouda for a few

moments.

Passepartout, having received these orders, had only to carry

them out. He looked at his master and was unable to leave the

room. His heart was heavy. He blamed himself more than ever for

this sad ending to the adventure. If only he had warned his master

about Fix's plans, Mr Fogg would certainly not have brought the

detective with him to Liverpool, and then ...

'Master! Mr Fogg!' he cried. 'Blame me. It is my fault that-'

'I blame nobody,' answered Phileas Fogg in the calmest of

voices. 'Go.'

Passepartout went to Aouda and gave the message.

'My good friend, do not leave your master alone - not for a

moment. You say that he wants to see me this evening?'

'Yes. I think that he wants to make arrangements for your

protection in England.'

'Then we'll wait,' said she.

During the day it was as if nobody were living in the house.

Phileas Fogg did not go to the club. Why should he go to theclub? His old companions there were not expecting him. As he

had not appeared at the club the evening before, at a quarter to

nine, his bet was lost.

At half past seven in the evening Mr Fogg asked whether

Aouda would receive him, and a few moments later they were

alone in the room.

For five minutes he said nothing. Then, raising his eyes, he said:

'Will you forgive me for bringing you to England? When I had

the idea of bringing you away from the country that had become

so dangerous for you, I was rich and expected to offer you a part

of my fortune. Your life would have been happy and free. Now I

am poor.'

'I know that, Mr Fogg,' answered the young lady, 'and I will ask

you this: will you forgive me for having followed you, and - who

knows - for having been one of the causes of your failure?'

'You could not have stayed in India, and for your safety it was

necessary for you to get away.'

'Then, Mr Fogg,' she went on, 'it was not enough for you to

save me from a terrible death - you thought it your duty to take

care of my future.'

'That is so, but I have been unfortunate. In any case my plan is

to give you the little that I have left.'

'But you, Mr Fogg, what will you do?'

'I am in need of nothing for myself.'

'But do you know what you are going to do?'

'I shall do what it is right for me to do.'

'In any case, a man such as you cannot ever be in real want.

Your friends-'

'I have no friends.'

'Then I am sorry for you, Mr Fogg, for it is sad to be without

friends. It is said that misfortune can be borne when there are two

to bear it.'

'So it is said'Mr Fogg,' she then said, getting up and holding out her hand

to him, 'will you have me as your friend? Will you have me as

your wife?'

At these words Mr Fogg stood up. For a moment he shut his

eyes. When he opened them again, he said simply: 'I love you.Yes,

I love you and am yours!'

He called Passepartout, who came and saw his master and

Aouda holding hands. The Frenchman understood, and his face

filled with joy.

Mr Fogg asked him whether it was too late for him to call on

the Reverend Samuel Wilson to make arrangements for a

marriage.

Passepartout smiled. 'It is never too late,' he said. It was five

minutes past eight. 'It will be for tomorrow, Monday,' he added.

'For tomorrow, Monday?' asked Mr Fogg, looking at Aouda.

'For tomorrow, Monday!' she answered.

Passepartout ran out of the house.On the Saturday evening the five gentlemen had met at the

Reform Club at eight o'clock.

When the clock showed twenty-five minutes past eight,

Andrew Stuart got up and said: 'Gentlemen, in twenty minutes'

time Mr Fogg must be here or he will lose his bet.'

'At what time did the last train from Liverpool reach London?'

asked Thomas Flanagan.

'At twenty-three minutes past seven. The next train gets to

London at ten minutes past midnight.'

'Well, gentlemen,' said Andrew Stuart, 'if Phileas Fogg had

come by the 7.23 he would already be here. We may safely say

that we have won the bet.''We must wait,' said one of the others. 'You know that Mr Fogg

is a man of very exact habits. He never gets anywhere too late or

too early. If he came into this room at the last moment I would

not be surprised.'

'As for me,' said Andrew Stuart, 'even if I saw him I wouldn't

believe it. He has certainly lost. The China, the only steamer by

which he could have come from America in time, reached

Liverpool yesterday. Here is the list of people who were on it, and

the name of Phileas Fogg is not among them. I imagine that he

has hardly reached America. He will be at least twenty days late.'

'That is certain,' said another. 'Tomorrow we shall only have to

go to the bank and collect the money.'

The clock showed twenty minutes to nine.

'Five minutes more,' said Andrew Stuart.

The five friends looked at each other. Their hearts were

perhaps beating a little faster than usual; even among those who

were used to betting, this bet was for a very large sum of money.

'I would not give up my four thousand pounds,' said Andrew

Stuart, 'ifl were offered three thousand nine hundred and ninety-

nine pounds for it!'

At that moment the clock showed sixteen minutes to nine.

Only one minute more and the bet would be won. They began

to count the seconds.

At the fortieth second, nothing happened. At the fiftieth

second, nothing happened.

At the fifty-fifth second, a noise like thunder was heard outside

the room - a noise of shouting.

At the fifty-seventh second, the door of the room opened and,

before the hand of the clock reached the sixtieth second, Phileas

Fogg appeared followed by a large crowd of people who had

forced their way into the building. He said, in his usual calm

voice: 'Here I am, gentlemen.'

Yes! Phileas Fogg himself.

1It will be remembered that at five minutes past eight - just

over twenty-three hours after the travellers had arrived in

London - Passepartout had been sent by his master to the

Reverend Samuel Wilson to make arrangements for a certain

marriage to take place the next day. He had left the house full of

joy and happiness. The Reverend Samuel Wilson was not at

home, so of course Passepartout waited. He waited at least twenty

minutes.

It was twenty-five minutes to nine when he left the minister's

house. But in what a state! His hair in disorder and without a hat,

running and running as nobody had ever run before, knocking

people over as he ran. In three minutes he was back at the house

in Savile Row, and he fell breathlessly into Mr Fogg's room. He

could not speak.

'What's the matter?' asked Mr Fogg.

'Master ... marriage ... impossible.'

'Impossible?'

'Impossible ... for tomorrow.'

'Why?'

'Because tomorrow ... is Sunday!'

'Monday,' answered Mr Fogg.

'No ... today ... Saturday.'

'Saturday? Impossible!'

'Yes, yes, yes!' cried Passepartout. 'You have made a mistake of

one day. We reached London twenty-four hours early. But we

have only ten minutes!'

Passepartout took his master and pulled him out of the room.

Phileas Fogg, carried off without having time to think, left the

house, jumped into a carriage, promised a hundred pounds to the

driver, and having run over two dogs and knocked against five

other carriages, reached the Reform Club.

The clock pointed to a quarter to nine when he came into the

room where the members were waiting.Phileas Fogg had completed his journey round the world in

eighty days. Phileas Fogg had won the bet of twenty thousand

pounds.

But how could such a careful man have made such a mistake?

How was it that he had believed it to be Saturday evening, 21st

December, when it was only Friday, 20th December, seventy-nine

days since he had left?

The reason for the mistake is very simple.

Phileas Fogg had made his journey by gomg east. As he

travelled towards the sun, the days got shorter by four minutes

every time he crossed one of the 360 degrees by which the earth

is measured. In other words, while he saw the sun pass over him

eighty times, the members of the Reform Club saw it pass only

seventy-nine times.

That is why on that day, which was Saturday and not Sunday,

the members were waiting for him. If he had travelled towards

the west, he would have lost a day on the way and would have

reached London one day late.

Phileas Fogg had won the twenty thousand pounds. But as he

had spent about nineteen thousand on the way, he had made little

profit. And of the thousand pounds that was left, he gave half to

Passepartout and the other half to the unfortunate Fix, whom he

now forgave.

That same evening Mr Fogg, as calmly and coldly as usual, said

to Aouda: 'Do you still want to marry me?'

'Mr Fogg,' she answered, 'it is I who ought to ask you that

question. You were poor; now you are rich.'

'Excuse me,' he said, 'but my fortune belongs to you. If you had

not suggested this marriage, my servant would not have gone to

the Reverend Samuel Wilson; I would not have known about the

mistake in the day, and ... '

'Dear Mr Fogg,' said the lady.

'Dear Aouda,' answered Phileas Fogg.The marriage took place forty-eight hours later and Passepartout,

in a state of joy, had the place of honour by the lady's side at the

church.

And what had Phileas Fogg gained by this journey?

'Nothing,' you may say.

Very well, nothing! Except a beautiful and loving wife who -

strange as it may seem - made him the happiest of men.

And was that not worth a journey round the world?