|
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
|
CHAPTER 22
In Which Passepartout Finds Out That, Even
At The Antipodes, It Is Convenient To Have Some
Money In One's Pocket
The Carnatic, setting sail from Hong Kong at
half-past six on the 7th of November, directed
her course at full steam towards Japan. She
carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin
of passengers. Two state-rooms in the rear
were, however, unoccupied--those which had been
engaged by Phileas Fogg.
The next day a passenger with a
half-stupefied eye, staggering gait, and
disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the
second cabin, and to totter to a seat on
deck.
It was Passepartout; and what had happened
to him was as follows: Shortly after Fix left
the opium den, two waiters had lifted the
unconscious Passepartout, and had carried him
to the bed reserved for the smokers. Three
hours later, pursued even in his dreams by a
fixed idea, the poor fellow awoke, and
struggled against the stupefying influence of
the narcotic. The thought of a duty unfulfilled
shook off his torpor, and he hurried from the
abode of drunkenness. Staggering and holding
himself up by keeping against the walls,
falling down and creeping up again, and
irresistibly impelled by a kind of instinct, he
kept crying out, "The Carnatic! the
Carnatic!"
The steamer lay puffing alongside the quay,
on the point of starting. Passepartout had but
few steps to go; and, rushing upon the plank,
he crossed it, and fell unconscious on the
deck, just as the Carnatic was moving off.
Several sailors, who were evidently accustomed
to this sort of scene, carried the poor
Frenchman down into the second cabin, and
Passepartout did not wake until they were one
hundred and fifty miles away from China. Thus
he found himself the next morning on the deck
of the Carnatic, and eagerly inhaling the
exhilarating sea-breeze. The pure air sobered
him. He began to collect his sense, which he
found a difficult task; but at last he recalled
the events of the evening before, Fix's
revelation, and the opium-house.
"It is evident," said he to himself, "that I
have been abominably drunk! What will Mr. Fogg
say? At least I have not missed the steamer,
which is the most important thing."
Then, as Fix occurred to him: "As for that
rascal, I hope we are well rid of him, and that
he has not dared, as he proposed, to follow us
on board the Carnatic. A detective on the track
of Mr. Fogg, accused of robbing the Bank of
England! Pshaw! Mr. Fogg is no more a robber
than I am a murderer."
Should he divulge Fix's real errand to his
master? Would it do to tell the part the
detective was playing. Would it not be better
to wait until Mr. Fogg reached London again,
and then impart to him that an agent of the
metropolitan police had been following him
round the world, and have a good laugh over it?
No doubt; at least, it was worth considering.
The first thing to
do was to find Mr. Fogg, and apologise for
his singular behaviour.
Passepartout got up and proceeded, as well
as he could with the rolling of the steamer, to
the after-deck. He saw no one who resembled
either his master or Aouda. "Good!" muttered
he; "Aouda has not got up yet, and Mr. Fogg has
probably found some partners at whist."
He descended to the saloon. Mr. Fogg was not
there. Passepartout had only, however, to ask
the purser the number of his master's
state-room. The purser replied that he did not
know any passenger by the name of Fogg.
"I beg your pardon," said Passepartout
persistently. "He is a tall gentleman, quiet,
and not very talkative, and has with him a
young lady--"
"There is no young lady on board,"
interrupted the purser. "Here is a list of the
passengers; you may see for yourself."
Passepartout scanned the list, but his
master's name was not upon it. All at once an
idea struck him.
"Ah! am I on the Carnatic?"
"Yes."
"On the way to Yokohama?"
"Certainly."
Passepartout had for an instant feared that
he was on the wrong boat; but, though he was
really on the Carnatic, his master was not
there.
He fell thunderstruck on a seat. He saw it
all now. He remembered that the time of sailing
had been changed, that he should have informed
his master of that fact, and that he had not
done so. It was his fault, then, that Mr. Fogg
and Aouda had missed the steamer. Yes, but it
was still more the fault of the traitor who, in
order to separate him from his master, and
detain the latter at Hong Kong, had inveigled
him into getting drunk! He now saw the
detective's trick; and at this moment Mr. Fogg
was certainly ruined, his bet was lost, and he
himself perhaps arrested and imprisoned! At
this thought Passepartout tore his hair. Ah, if
Fix ever came within his reach, what a settling
of accounts there would be!
After his first depression, Passepartout
became calmer, and began to study his
situation. It was certainly not an enviable
one. He found himself on the way to Japan, and
what should he do when he got there? His pocket
was empty; he had not a solitary shilling, not
so much as a penny. His passage had fortunately
been paid for in advance; and he had five or
six days in which to decide upon his future
course. He fell to at meals with an appetite,
and ate for Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and himself. He
helped himself as generously as if Japan were a
desert, where nothing to eat was to be looked
for.
At dawn on the 13th the Carnatic entered the
port of Yokohama. This is an important port of
call in the Pacific, where all the
mail-steamers, and those carrying travellers
between North America, China, Japan, and the
Oriental islands put in. It is situated in the
bay of Yeddo, and at but a short distance from
that second capital of the Japanese Empire, and
the residence of the Tycoon, the civil Emperor,
before the Mikado, the spiritual Emperor,
absorbed his office in his own. The Carnatic
anchored at the quay near the custom-house, in
the midst of a crowd of ships bearing the flags
of all nations.
Passepartout went timidly ashore on this so
curious territory of the Sons of the Sun. He
had nothing better to do than, taking chance
for his guide, to wander aimlessly through the
streets of Yokohama. He found himself at first
in a thoroughly European quarter, the houses
having low fronts, and being adorned with
verandas, beneath which he caught glimpses of
neat peristyles. This quarter occupied, with
its streets, squares, docks, and warehouses,
all the space between the "promontory of the
Treaty" and the river. Here, as at Hong Kong
and Calcutta, were mixed crowds of all races,
Americans and English, Chinamen and Dutchmen,
mostly merchants ready to buy or sell anything.
The Frenchman felt himself as much alone among
them as if he had dropped down in the midst of
Hottentots.
He had, at least, one resource to call on
the French and English consuls at Yokohama for
assistance. But he shrank from telling the
story of his adventures, intimately connected
as it was with that of his master; and, before
doing so, he determined to exhaust all other
means of aid. As chance did not favour him in
the European quarter, he penetrated that
inhabited by the native Japanese, determined,
if necessary, to push on to Yeddo.
The Japanese quarter of Yokohama is called
Benten, after the goddess of the sea, who is
worshipped on the islands round about. There
Passepartout beheld beautiful fir and cedar
groves, sacred gates of a singular
architecture, bridges half hid in the midst of
bamboos and reeds, temples shaded by immense
cedar-trees, holy retreats where were sheltered
Buddhist priests and sectaries of Confucius,
and interminable streets, where a perfect
harvest of rose-tinted and red-cheeked
children, who looked as if they had been cut
out of Japanese screens, and who were playing
in the midst of short-legged poodles and
yellowish cats, might have been gathered.
The streets were crowded with people.
Priests were passing in processions, beating
their dreary tambourines; police and
custom-house officers with pointed hats
encrusted with lac and carrying two sabres hung
to their waists; soldiers, clad in blue cotton
with white stripes, and bearing guns; the
Mikado's guards, enveloped in silken doubles,
hauberks and coats of mail; and numbers of
military folk of all ranks--for the military
profession is as much respected in Japan as it
is despised in China--went hither and thither
in groups and pairs. Passepartout saw, too,
begging friars, long-robed pilgrims, and simple
civilians, with their warped and jet-black
hair, big heads, long busts, slender legs,
short stature, and complexions varying from
copper-colour to a dead white, but never
yellow, like the Chinese, from whom the
Japanese widely differ. He did not fail to
observe the curious equipages--carriages and
palanquins, barrows supplied with sails, and
litters made of bamboo; nor the women-- whom he
thought not especially handsome--who took
little steps with their little feet, whereon
they wore canvas shoes, straw sandals, and
clogs of worked wood, and who displayed
tight-looking eyes, flat chests, teeth
fashionably blackened, and gowns crossed with
silken scarfs, tied in an enormous knot behind
an ornament which the modern Parisian ladies
seem to have borrowed from the dames of
Japan.
Passepartout wandered for several hours in
the midst of this motley crowd, looking in at
the windows of the rich and curious shops, the
jewellery establishments glittering with quaint
Japanese ornaments, the restaurants decked with
streamers and banners, the tea-houses, where
the odorous beverage was being drunk with saki,
a liquor concocted from the fermentation of
rice, and the comfortable smoking-houses, where
they were puffing, not opium, which is almost
unknown in Japan, but a very fine, stringy
tobacco. He went on till he found himself in
the fields, in the midst of vast rice
plantations. There he saw dazzling camellias
expanding themselves, with flowers which were
giving forth their last colours and perfumes,
not on bushes, but on trees, and within bamboo
enclosures, cherry, plum, and apple trees,
which the Japanese cultivate rather for their
blossoms than their fruit, and which
queerly-fashioned, grinning scarecrows
protected from the sparrows, pigeons, ravens,
and other voracious birds. On the branches of
the cedars were perched large eagles; amid the
foliage of the weeping willows were herons,
solemnly standing on one leg; and on every hand
were crows, ducks, hawks, wild birds, and a
multitude of cranes, which the Japanese
consider sacred, and which to their minds
symbolise long life and prosperity.
As he was strolling along, Passepartout
espied some violets among the shrubs.
"Good!" said he; "I'll have some
supper."
But, on smelling them, he found that they
were odourless.
"No chance there," thought he.
The worthy fellow had certainly taken good
care to eat as hearty a breakfast as possible
before leaving the Carnatic; but, as he had
been walking about all day, the demands of
hunger were becoming importunate. He observed
that the butchers stalls contained neither
mutton, goat, nor pork; and, knowing also that
it is a sacrilege to kill cattle, which are
preserved solely for farming, he made up his
mind that meat was far from plentiful in
Yokohama-- nor was he mistaken; and, in default
of butcher's meat, he could have wished for a
quarter of wild boar or deer, a partridge, or
some quails, some game or fish, which, with
rice, the Japanese eat almost exclusively. But
he found it necessary to keep up a stout heart,
and to postpone the meal he craved till the
following morning. Night came, and Passepartout
re-entered the native quarter, where he
wandered through the streets, lit by
vari-coloured lanterns, looking on at the
dancers, who were executing skilful steps and
boundings, and the astrologers who stood in the
open air with their telescopes. Then he came to
the harbour, which was lit up by the resin
torches of the fishermen, who were fishing from
their boats.
The streets at last became quiet, and the
patrol, the officers of which, in their
splendid costumes, and surrounded by their
suites, Passepartout thought seemed like
ambassadors, succeeded the bustling crowd. Each
time a company passed, Passepartout chuckled,
and said to himself: "Good! another Japanese
embassy departing for Europe!"
|