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CHAPTER 20
In Which Fix Comes Face To Face With Phileas
Fogg
While these events were passing at the
opium-house, Mr. Fogg, unconscious of the
danger he was in of losing the steamer, was
quietly escorting Aouda about the streets of
the English quarter, making the necessary
purchases for the long voyage before them. It
was all very well for an Englishman like Mr.
Fogg to make the tour of the world with a
carpet-bag; a lady could not be expected to
travel comfortably under such conditions. He
acquitted his task with characteristic
serenity, and invariably replied to the
remonstrances of his fair companion, who was
confused by his patience and generosity:
"It is in the interest of my journey--a part
of my programme."
The purchases made, they returned to the
hotel, where they dined at a sumptuously served
table-d'hote; after which Aouda, shaking hands
with her protector after the English fashion,
retired to her room for rest. Mr. Fogg absorbed
himself throughout the evening in the perusal
of The Times and Illustrated London News.
Had he been capable of being astonished at
anything, it would have been not to see his
servant return at bedtime. But, knowing that
the steamer was not to leave for Yokohama until
the next morning, he did not disturb himself
about the matter. When Passepartout did not
appear the next morning to answer his master's
bell, Mr. Fogg, not betraying the least
vexation, contented himself with taking his
carpet-bag, calling Aouda, and sending for a
palanquin.
It was then eight o'clock; at half-past
nine, it being then high tide, the Carnatic
would leave the harbour. Mr. Fogg and Aouda got
into the palanquin, their luggage being brought
after on a wheelbarrow, and half an hour later
stepped upon the quay whence they were to
embark. Mr. Fogg then learned that the Carnatic
had sailed the evening before. He had expected
to find not only the steamer, but his domestic,
and was forced to give up both; but no sign of
disappointment appeared on his face, and he
merely remarked to Aouda, "It is an accident,
madam; nothing more."
At this moment a man who had been observing
him attentively approached. It was Fix, who,
bowing, addressed Mr. Fogg: "Were you not, like
me, sir, a passenger by the Rangoon, which
arrived yesterday?"
"I was, sir," replied Mr. Fogg coldly. "But
I have not the honour--"
"Pardon me; I thought I should find your
servant here."
"Do you know where he is, sir?" asked Aouda
anxiously.
"What!" responded Fix, feigning surprise.
"Is he not with you?"
"No," said Aouda. "He has not made his
appearance since yesterday. Could he have gone
on board the Carnatic without us?"
"Without you, madam?" answered the
detective. "Excuse me, did you intend to sail
in the Carnatic?"
"Yes, sir."
"So did I, madam, and I am excessively
disappointed. The Carnatic, its repairs being
completed, left Hong Kong twelve hours before
the stated time, without any notice being
given; and we must now wait a week for another
steamer."
As he said "a week" Fix felt his heart leap
for joy. Fogg detained at Hong Kong for a week!
There would be time for the warrant to arrive,
and fortune at last favoured the representative
of the law. His horror may be imagined when he
heard Mr. Fogg say, in his placid voice, "But
there are other vessels besides the Carnatic,
it seems to me, in the harbour of Hong
Kong."
And, offering his arm to Aouda, he directed
his steps toward the docks in search of some
craft about to start. Fix, stupefied, followed;
it seemed as if he were attached to Mr. Fogg by
an invisible thread. Chance, however, appeared
really to have abandoned the man it had
hitherto served so well. For three hours
Phileas Fogg wandered about the docks, with the
determination, if necessary, to charter a
vessel to carry him to Yokohama; but he could
only find vessels which were loading or
unloading, and which could not therefore set
sail. Fix began to hope again.
But Mr. Fogg, far from being discouraged,
was continuing his search, resolved not to stop
if he had to resort to Macao, when he was
accosted by a sailor on one of the wharves.
"Is your honour looking for a boat?"
"Have you a boat ready to sail?"
"Yes, your honour; a pilot-boat--No. 43--the
best in the harbour."
"Does she go fast?"
"Between eight and nine knots the hour. Will
you look at her?"
"Yes."
"Your honour will be satisfied with her. Is
it for a sea excursion?"
"No; for a voyage."
"A voyage?"
"Yes, will you agree to take me to
Yokohama?"
The sailor leaned on the railing, opened his
eyes wide, and said, "Is your honour
joking?"
"No. I have missed the Carnatic, and I must
get to Yokohama by the 14th at the latest, to
take the boat for San Francisco."
"I am sorry," said the sailor; "but it is
impossible."
"I offer you a hundred pounds per day, and
an additional reward of two hundred pounds if I
reach Yokohama in time."
"Are you in earnest?"
"Very much so."
The pilot walked away a little distance, and
gazed out to sea, evidently struggling between
the anxiety to gain a large sum and the fear of
venturing so far. Fix was in mortal
suspense.
Mr. Fogg turned to Aouda and asked her, "You
would not be afraid, would you, madam?"
"Not with you, Mr. Fogg," was her
answer.
The pilot now returned, shuffling his hat in
his hands.
"Well, pilot?" said Mr. Fogg.
"Well, your honour," replied he, "I could
not risk myself, my men, or my little boat of
scarcely twenty tons on so long a voyage at
this time of year. Besides, we could not reach
Yokohama in time, for it is sixteen hundred and
sixty miles from Hong Kong."
"Only sixteen hundred," said Mr. Fogg.
"It's the same thing."
Fix breathed more freely.
"But," added the pilot, "it might be
arranged another way."
Fix ceased to breathe at all.
"How?" asked Mr. Fogg.
"By going to Nagasaki, at the extreme south
of Japan, or even to Shanghai, which is only
eight hundred miles from here. In going to
Shanghai we should not be forced to sail wide
of the Chinese coast, which would be a great
advantage, as the currents run northward, and
would aid us.
"Pilot," said Mr. Fogg, "I must take the
American steamer at Yokohama, and not at
Shanghai or Nagasaki."
"Why not?" returned the pilot. "The San
Francisco steamer does not start from Yokohama.
It puts in at Yokohama and Nagasaki, but it
starts from Shanghai."
"You are sure of that?"
"Perfectly."
"And when does the boat leave Shanghai?"
"On the 11th, at seven in the evening. We
have, therefore, four days before us, that is
ninety-six hours; and in that time, if we had
good luck and a south-west wind, and the sea
was calm, we could make those eight hundred
miles to Shanghai."
"And you could go--"
"In an hour; as soon as provisions could be
got aboard and the sails put up."
"It is a bargain. Are you the master of the
boat?"
"Yes; John Bunsby, master of the
Tankadere."
"Would you like some earnest-money?"
"If it would not put your honour out--"
"Here are two hundred pounds on account
sir," added Phileas Fogg, turning to Fix, "if
you would like to take advantage--"
"Thanks, sir; I was about to ask the
favour."
"Very well. In half an hour we shall go on
board."
"But poor Passepartout?" urged Aouda, who
was much disturbed by the servant's
disappearance.
"I shall do all I can to find him," replied
Phileas Fogg.
While Fix, in a feverish, nervous state,
repaired to the pilot-boat, the others directed
their course to the police-station at Hong
Kong. Phileas Fogg there gave Passepartout's
description, and left a sum of money to be
spent in the search for him. The same
formalities having been gone through at the
French consulate, and the palanquin having
stopped at the hotel for the luggage, which had
been sent back there, they returned to the
wharf.
It was now three o'clock; and pilot-boat No.
43, with its crew on board, and its provisions
stored away, was ready for departure.
The Tankadere was a neat little craft of
twenty tons, as gracefully built as if she were
a racing yacht. Her shining copper sheathing,
her galvanised iron-work, her deck, white as
ivory, betrayed the pride taken by John Bunsby
in making her presentable. Her two masts leaned
a trifle backward; she carried brigantine,
foresail, storm-jib, and standing-jib, and was
well rigged for running before the wind; and
she seemed capable of brisk speed, which,
indeed, she had already proved by gaining
several prizes in pilot-boat races. The crew of
the Tankadere was composed of John Bunsby, the
master, and four hardy mariners, who were
familiar with the Chinese seas. John Bunsby,
himself, a man of forty-five or thereabouts,
vigorous, sunburnt, with a sprightly expression
of the eye, and energetic and self-reliant
countenance, would have inspired confidence in
the most timid.
Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where
they found Fix already installed. Below deck
was a square cabin, of which the walls bulged
out in the form of cots, above a circular
divan; in the centre was a table provided with
a swinging lamp. The accommodation was
confined, but neat.
"I am sorry to have nothing better to offer
you," said Mr. Fogg to Fix, who bowed without
responding.
The detective had a feeling akin to
humiliation in profiting by the kindness of Mr.
Fogg.
"It's certain," thought he, "though rascal
as he is, he is a polite one!"
The sails and the English flag were hoisted
at ten minutes past three. Mr. Fogg and Aouda,
who were seated on deck, cast a last glance at
the quay, in the hope of espying Passepartout.
Fix was not without his fears lest chance
should direct the steps of the unfortunate
servant, whom he had so badly treated, in this
direction; in which case an explanation the
reverse of satisfactory to the detective must
have ensued. But the Frenchman did not appear,
and, without doubt, was still lying under the
stupefying influence of the opium.
John Bunsby, master, at length gave the
order to start, and the Tankadere, taking the
wind under her brigantine, foresail, and
standing-jib, bounded briskly forward over the
waves.
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