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CHAPTER 36
In Which Phileas Fogg's Name Is Once More At
A Premium On Change
It is time to relate what a change took
place in English public opinion when it
transpired that the real bankrobber, a certain
James Strand, had been arrested, on the 17th
day of December, at Edinburgh. Three days
before, Phileas Fogg had been a criminal, who
was being desperately followed up by the
police; now he was an honourable gentleman,
mathematically pursuing his eccentric journey
round the world.
The papers resumed their discussion about
the wager; all those who had laid bets, for or
against him, revived their interest, as if by
magic; the "Phileas Fogg bonds" again became
negotiable, and many new wagers were made.
Phileas Fogg's name was once more at a premium
on 'Change.
His five friends of the Reform Club passed
these three days in a state of feverish
suspense. Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had
forgotten, reappear before their eyes! Where
was he at this moment? The 17th of December,
the day of James Strand's arrest, was the
seventy-sixth since Phileas Fogg's departure,
and no news of him had been received. Was he
dead? Had he abandoned the effort, or was he
continuing his journey along the route agreed
upon? And would he appear on Saturday, the 21st
of December, at a quarter before nine in the
evening, on the threshold of the Reform Club
saloon?
The anxiety in which, for three days, London
society existed, cannot be described. Telegrams
were sent to America and Asia for news of
Phileas Fogg. Messengers were dispatched to the
house in Saville Row morning and evening. No
news. The police were ignorant what had become
of the detective, Fix, who had so unfortunately
followed up a false scent. Bets increased,
nevertheless, in number and value. Phileas
Fogg, like a racehorse, was drawing near his
last turning-point. The bonds were quoted, no
longer at a hundred below par, but at twenty,
at ten, and at five; and paralytic old Lord
Albemarle bet even in his favour.
A great crowd was collected in Pall Mall and
the neighbouring streets on Saturday evening;
it seemed like a multitude of brokers
permanently established around the Reform Club.
Circulation was impeded, and everywhere
disputes, discussions, and financial
transactions were going on. The police had
great difficulty in keeping back the crowd, and
as the hour when Phileas Fogg was due
approached, the excitement rose to its highest
pitch.
The five antagonists of Phileas Fogg had met
in the great saloon of the club. John Sullivan
and Samuel Fallentin, the bankers, Andrew
Stuart, the engineer, Gauthier Ralph, the
director of the Bank of England, and Thomas
Flanagan, the brewer, one and all waited
anxiously.
When the clock indicated twenty minutes past
eight, Andrew Stuart got up, saying,
"Gentlemen, in twenty minutes the time agreed
upon between Mr. Fogg and ourselves will have
expired."
"What time did the last train arrive from
Liverpool?" asked Thomas Flanagan.
"At twenty-three minutes past seven,"
replied Gauthier Ralph; "and the next does not
arrive till ten minutes after twelve."
"Well, gentlemen," resumed Andrew Stuart,
"if Phileas Fogg had come in the 7:23 train, he
would have got here by this time. We can,
therefore, regard the bet as won."
"Wait; don't let us be too hasty," replied
Samuel Fallentin. "You know that Mr. Fogg is
very eccentric. His punctuality is well known;
he never arrives too soon, or too late; and I
should not be surprised if he appeared before
us at the last minute."
"Why," said Andrew Stuart nervously, "if I
should see him, I should not believe it was
he."
"The fact is," resumed Thomas Flanagan, "Mr.
Fogg's project was absurdly foolish. Whatever
his punctuality, he could not prevent the
delays which were certain to occur; and a delay
of only two or three days would be fatal to his
tour."
"Observe, too," added John Sullivan, "that
we have received no intelligence from him,
though there are telegraphic lines all along is
route."
"He has lost, gentleman," said Andrew
Stuart, "he has a hundred times lost! You know,
besides, that the China the only steamer he
could have taken from New York to get here in
time arrived yesterday. I have seen a list of
the passengers, and the name of Phileas Fogg is
not among them. Even if we admit that fortune
has favoured him, he can scarcely have reached
America. I think he will be at least twenty
days behind-hand, and that Lord Albemarle will
lose a cool five thousand."
"It is clear," replied Gauthier Ralph; "and
we have nothing to do but to present Mr. Fogg's
cheque at Barings to-morrow."
At this moment, the hands of the club clock
pointed to twenty minutes to nine.
"Five minutes more," said Andrew Stuart.
The five gentlemen looked at each other.
Their anxiety was becoming intense; but, not
wishing to betray it, they readily assented to
Mr. Fallentin's proposal of a rubber.
"I wouldn't give up my four thousand of the
bet," said Andrew Stuart, as he took his seat,
"for three thousand nine hundred and
ninety-nine."
The clock indicated eighteen minutes to
nine.
The players took up their cards, but could
not keep their eyes off the clock. Certainly,
however secure they felt, minutes had never
seemed so long to them!
"Seventeen minutes to nine," said Thomas
Flanagan, as he cut the cards which Ralph
handed to him.
Then there was a moment of silence. The
great saloon was perfectly quiet; but the
murmurs of the crowd outside were heard, with
now and then a shrill cry. The pendulum beat
the seconds, which each player eagerly counted,
as he listened, with mathematical
regularity.
"Sixteen minutes to nine!" said John
Sullivan, in a voice which betrayed his
emotion.
One minute more, and the wager would be won.
Andrew Stuart and his partners suspended their
game. They left their cards, and counted the
seconds.
At the fortieth second, nothing. At the
fiftieth, still nothing.
At the fifty-fifth, a loud cry was heard in
the street, followed by applause, hurrahs, and
some fierce growls.
The players rose from their seats.
At the fifty-seventh second the door of the
saloon opened; and the pendulum had not beat
the sixtieth second when Phileas Fogg appeared,
followed by an excited crowd who had forced
their way through the club doors, and in his
calm voice, said, "Here I am, gentlemen!"
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