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CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
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CHAPTER 17
Showing What Happened On The Voyage From
Singapore To Hong Kong
The detective and Passepartout met often on
deck after this interview, though Fix was
reserved, and did not attempt to induce his
companion to divulge any more facts concerning
Mr. Fogg. He caught a glimpse of that
mysterious gentleman once or twice; but Mr.
Fogg usually confined himself to the cabin,
where he kept Aouda company, or, according to
his inveterate habit, took a hand at whist.
Passepartout began very seriously to
conjecture what strange chance kept Fix still
on the route that his master was pursuing. It
was really worth considering why this certainly
very amiable and complacent person, whom he had
first met at Suez, had then encountered on
board the Mongolia, who disembarked at Bombay,
which he announced as his destination, and now
turned up so unexpectedly on the Rangoon, was
following Mr. Fogg's tracks step by step. What
was Fix's object? Passepartout was ready to
wager his Indian shoes--which he religiously
preserved--that Fix would also leave Hong Kong
at the same time with them, and probably on the
same steamer.
Passepartout might have cudgelled his brain
for a century without hitting upon the real
object which the detective had in view. He
never could have imagined that Phileas Fogg was
being tracked as a robber around the globe.
But, as it is in human nature to attempt the
solution of every mystery, Passepartout
suddenly discovered an explanation of Fix's
movements, which was in truth far from
unreasonable. Fix, he thought, could only be an
agent of Mr. Fogg's friends at the Reform Club,
sent to follow him up, and to ascertain that he
really went round the world as had been agreed
upon.
"It's clear!" repeated the worthy servant to
himself, proud of his shrewdness. "He's a spy
sent to keep us in view! That isn't quite the
thing, either, to be spying Mr. Fogg, who is so
honourable a man! Ah, gentlemen of the Reform,
this shall cost you dear!"
Passepartout, enchanted with his discovery,
resolved to say nothing to his master, lest he
should be justly offended at this mistrust on
the part of his adversaries. But he determined
to chaff Fix, when he had the chance, with
mysterious allusions, which, however, need not
betray his real suspicions.
During the afternoon of Wednesday, 30th
October, the Rangoon entered the Strait of
Malacca, which separates the peninsula of that
name from Sumatra. The mountainous and craggy
islets intercepted the beauties of this noble
island from the view of the travellers. The
Rangoon weighed anchor at Singapore the next
day at four a.m., to receive coal, having
gained half a day on the prescribed time of her
arrival. Phileas Fogg noted this gain in his
journal, and then, accompanied by Aouda, who
betrayed a desire for a walk on shore,
disembarked.
Fix, who suspected Mr. Fogg's every
movement, followed them cautiously, without
being himself perceived; while Passepartout,
laughing in his sleeve at Fix's manoeuvres,
went about his usual errands.
The island of Singapore is not imposing in
aspect, for there are no mountains; yet its
appearance is not without attractions. It is a
park checkered by pleasant highways and
avenues. A handsome carriage, drawn by a sleek
pair of New Holland horses, carried Phileas
Fogg and Aouda into the midst of rows of palms
with brilliant foliage, and of clove-trees,
whereof the cloves form the heart of a
half-open flower. Pepper plants replaced the
prickly hedges of European fields; sago-bushes,
large ferns with gorgeous branches, varied the
aspect of this tropical clime; while
nutmeg-trees in full foliage filled the air
with a penetrating perfume. Agile and grinning
bands of monkeys skipped about in the trees,
nor were tigers wanting in the jungles.
After a drive of two hours through the
country, Aouda and Mr. Fogg returned to the
town, which is a vast collection of
heavy-looking, irregular houses, surrounded by
charming gardens rich in tropical fruits and
plants; and at ten o'clock they re-embarked,
closely followed by the detective, who had kept
them constantly in sight.
Passepartout, who had been purchasing
several dozen mangoes-- a fruit as large as
good-sized apples, of a dark-brown colour
outside and a bright red within, and whose
white pulp, melting in the mouth, affords
gourmands a delicious sensation--was waiting
for them on deck. He was only too glad to offer
some mangoes to Aouda, who thanked him very
gracefully for them.
At eleven o'clock the Rangoon rode out of
Singapore harbour, and in a few hours the high
mountains of Malacca, with their forests,
inhabited by the most beautifully-furred tigers
in the world, were lost to view. Singapore is
distant some thirteen hundred miles from the
island of Hong Kong, which is a little English
colony near the Chinese coast. Phileas Fogg
hoped to accomplish the journey in six days, so
as to be in time for the steamer which would
leave on the 6th of November for Yokohama, the
principal Japanese port.
The Rangoon had a large quota of passengers,
many of whom disembarked at Singapore, among
them a number of Indians, Ceylonese, Chinamen,
Malays, and Portuguese, mostly second-class
travellers.
The weather, which had hitherto been fine,
changed with the last quarter of the moon. The
sea rolled heavily, and the wind at intervals
rose almost to a storm, but happily blew from
the south-west, and thus aided the steamer's
progress. The captain as often as possible put
up his sails, and under the double action of
steam and sail the vessel made rapid progress
along the coasts of Anam and Cochin China.
Owing to the defective construction of the
Rangoon, however, unusual precautions became
necessary in unfavourable weather; but the loss
of time which resulted from this cause, while
it nearly drove Passepartout out of his senses,
did not seem to affect his master in the least.
Passepartout blamed the captain, the engineer,
and the crew, and consigned all who were
connected with the ship to the land where the
pepper grows. Perhaps the thought of the gas,
which was remorselessly burning at his expense
in Saville Row, had something to do with his
hot impatience.
"You are in a great hurry, then," said Fix
to him one day, "to reach Hong Kong?"
"A very great hurry!"
"Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch
the steamer for Yokohama?"
"Terribly anxious."
"You believe in this journey around the
world, then?"
"Absolutely. Don't you, Mr. Fix?"
"I? I don't believe a word of it."
"You're a sly dog!" said Passepartout,
winking at him.
This expression rather disturbed Fix,
without his knowing why. Had the Frenchman
guessed his real purpose? He knew not what to
think. But how could Passepartout have
discovered that he was a detective? Yet, in
speaking as he did, the man evidently meant
more than he expressed.
Passepartout went still further the next
day; he could not hold his tongue.
"Mr. Fix," said he, in a bantering tone,
"shall we be so unfortunate as to lose you when
we get to Hong Kong?"
"Why," responded Fix, a little embarrassed,
"I don't know; perhaps--"
"Ah, if you would only go on with us! An
agent of the Peninsular Company, you know,
can't stop on the way! You were only going to
Bombay, and here you are in China. America is
not far off, and from America to Europe is only
a step."
Fix looked intently at his companion, whose
countenance was as serene as possible, and
laughed with him. But Passepartout persisted in
chaffing him by asking him if he made much by
his present occupation.
"Yes, and no," returned Fix; "there is good
and bad luck in such things. But you must
understand that I don't travel at my own
expense."
"Oh, I am quite sure of that!" cried
Passepartout, laughing heartily.
Fix, fairly puzzled, descended to his cabin
and gave himself up to his reflections. He was
evidently suspected; somehow or other the
Frenchman had found out that he was a
detective. But had he told his master? What
part was he playing in all this: was he an
accomplice or not? Was the game, then, up? Fix
spent several hours turning these things over
in his mind, sometimes thinking that all was
lost, then persuading himself that Fogg was
ignorant of his presence, and then undecided
what course it was best to take.
Nevertheless, he preserved his coolness of
mind, and at last resolved to deal plainly with
Passepartout. If he did not find it practicable
to arrest Fogg at Hong Kong, and if Fogg made
preparations to leave that last foothold of
English territory, he, Fix, would tell
Passepartout all. Either the servant was the
accomplice of his master, and in this case the
master knew of his operations, and he should
fail; or else the servant knew nothing about
the robbery, and then his interest would be to
abandon the robber.
Such was the situation between Fix and
Passepartout. Meanwhile Phileas Fogg moved
about above them in the most majestic and
unconscious indifference. He was passing
methodically in his orbit around the world,
regardless of the lesser stars which gravitated
around him. Yet there was near by what the
astronomers would call a disturbing star, which
might have produced an agitation in this
gentleman's heart. But no! the charms of Aouda
failed to act, to Passepartout's great
surprise; and the disturbances, if they
existed, would have been more difficult to
calculate than those of Uranus which led to the
discovery of Neptune.
It was every day an increasing wonder to
Passepartout, who read in Aouda's eyes the
depths of her gratitude to his master. Phileas
Fogg, though brave and gallant, must be, he
thought, quite heartless. As to the sentiment
which this journey might have awakened in him,
there was clearly no trace of such a thing;
while poor Passepartout existed in perpetual
reveries.
One day he was leaning on the railing of the
engine-room, and was observing the engine, when
a sudden pitch of the steamer threw the screw
out of the water. The steam came hissing out of
the valves; and this made Passepartout
indignant.
"The valves are not sufficiently charged!"
he exclaimed. "We are not going. Oh, these
English! If this was an American craft, we
should blow up, perhaps, but we should at all
events go faster!"
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