Aid the
progress...
by lending
a hand
with
the crew |
he
weather was bad during the latter days of the voyage. The wind, obstinately
remaining in the north-west, blew a gale, and retarded the steamer. The
Rangoon rolled heavily and the passengers became impatient of the long,
monstrous waves which the wind raised before their path. A sort of tempest
arose on the 3rd of November, the squall knocking the vessel about with
fury, and the waves running high. The Rangoon reefed all her sails, and
even the rigging proved too much, whistling and shaking amid the squall.
The steamer was forced to proceed slowly, and the captain estimated that
she would reach Hong Kong twenty hours behind time, and more if the storm
lasted.
Phileas
Fogg gazed at the tempestuous sea, which seemed to be struggling especially
to delay him, with his habitual tranquillity. He never changed countenance
for an instant, though a delay of twenty hours, by making him too late
for the Yokohama boat, would almost inevitably cause the loss of the wager.
But this man of nerve manifested neither impatience nor annoyance; it seemed
as if the storm were a part of his programme, and had been foreseen. Aouda
was amazed to find him as calm as he had been from the first time she saw
him.
Fix did
not look at the state of things in the same light. The storm greatly pleased
him. His satisfaction would have been complete had the Rangoon been forced
to retreat before the violence of wind and waves. Each delay filled him
with hope, for it became more and more probable that Fogg would be obliged
to remain some days at Hong Kong; and now the heavens themselves became
his allies, with the gusts and squalls. It mattered not that they made
him sea-sick—he made no account of this inconvenience; and, whilst his
body was writhing under their effects, his spirit bounded with hopeful
exultation.
Passepartout
was enraged beyond expression by the unpropitious weather. Everything had
gone so well till now! Earth and sea had seemed to be at his master's service;
steamers and railways obeyed him; wind and steam united to speed his journey.
Had the hour of adversity come? Passepartout was as much excited as if
the twenty thousand pounds were to come from his own pocket. The storm
exasperated him, the gale made him furious, and he longed to lash the obstinate
sea into obedience. Poor fellow! Fix carefully concealed from him his own
satisfaction, for, had he betrayed it, Passepartout could scarcely have
restrained himself from personal violence.
Passepartout
remained on deck as long as the tempest lasted, being unable to remain
quiet below, and taking it into his head to aid the progress of the ship
by lending a hand with the crew. He overwhelmed the captain, officers,
and sailors, who could not help laughing at his impatience, with all sorts
of questions. He wanted to know exactly how long the storm was going to
last; whereupon he was referred to the barometer, which seemed to have
no intention of rising. Passepartout shook it, but with no perceptible
effect; for neither shaking nor maledictions could prevail upon it to change
its mind.
On the
4th, however, the sea became more calm, and the storm lessened its violence;
the wind veered southward, and was once more favourable. Passepartout cleared
up with the weather. Some of the sails were unfurled, and the Rangoon resumed
its most rapid speed. The time lost could not, however, be regained. Land
was not signalled until five o'clock on the morning of the 6th; the steamer
was due on the 5th. Phileas Fogg was twenty-four hours behind-hand, and
the Yokohama steamer would, of course, be missed.
The pilot
went on board at six, and took his place on the bridge, to guide the Rangoon
through the channels to the port of Hong Kong. Passepartout longed to ask
him if the steamer had left for Yokohama; but he dared not, for he wished
to preserve the spark of hope, which still remained till the last moment.
He had confided his anxiety to Fix who—the sly rascal!—tried to console
him by saying that Mr. Fogg would be in time if he took the next boat;
but this only put Passepartout in a passion.
Mr. Fogg,
bolder than his servant, did not hesitate to approach the pilot, and tranquilly
ask him if he knew when a steamer would leave Hong Kong for Yokohama.
"At high
tide to-morrow morning," answered the pilot.
"Ah!"
said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any astonishment.
Passepartout,
who heard what passed, would willingly have embraced the pilot, while Fix
would have been glad to twist his neck.
"What
is the steamer's name?" asked Mr. Fogg.
"The Carnatic."
"Ought
she not to have gone yesterday?"
"Yes,
sir; but they had to repair one of her boilers, and so her departure was
postponed till to-morrow."
"Thank
you," returned Mr. Fogg, descending mathematically to the saloon.
Passepartout
clasped the pilot's hand and shook it heartily in his delight, exclaiming,
"Pilot, you are the best of good fellows!"
The pilot
probably does not know to this day why his responses won him this enthusiastic
greeting. He remounted the bridge, and guided the steamer through the flotilla
of junks, tankas, and fishing boats which crowd the harbour of Hong Kong.
At one
o'clock the Rangoon was at the quay, and the passengers were going ashore.
Chance
had strangely favoured Phileas Fogg, for had not the Carnatic been forced
to lie over for repairing her boilers, she would have left on the 6th of
November, and the passengers for Japan would have been obliged to await
for a week the sailing of the next steamer. Mr. Fogg was, it is true, twenty-four
hours behind his time; but this could not seriously imperil the remainder
of his tour.
The steamer
which crossed the Pacific from Yokohama to San Francisco made a direct
connection with that from Hong Kong, and it could not sail until the latter
reached Yokohama; and if Mr. Fogg was twenty-four hours late on reaching
Yokohama, this time would no doubt be easily regained in the voyage of
twenty-two days across the Pacific. He found himself, then, about twenty-four
hours behind-hand, thirty-five days after leaving London.
The Carnatic
was announced to leave Hong Kong at five the next morning. Mr. Fogg had
sixteen hours in which to attend to his business there, which was to deposit
Aouda safely with her wealthy relative.
On landing,
he conducted her to a palanquin, in which they repaired to the Club Hotel.
A room was engaged for the young woman, and Mr. Fogg, after seeing that
she wanted for nothing, set out in search of her cousin Jeejeeh. He instructed
Passepartout to remain at the hotel until his return, that Aouda might
not be left entirely alone.
Mr. Fogg
repaired to the Exchange, where, he did not doubt, every one would know
so wealthy and considerable a personage as the Parsee merchant. Meeting
a broker, he made the inquiry, to learn that Jeejeeh had left China two
years before, and, retiring from business with an immense fortune, had
taken up his residence in Europe—in Holland the broker thought, with the
merchants of which country he had principally traded. Phileas Fogg returned
to the hotel, begged a moment's conversation with Aouda, and without more
ado, apprised her that Jeejeeh was no longer at Hong Kong, but probably
in Holland.
Aouda
at first said nothing. She passed her hand across her forehead, and reflected
a few moments. Then, in her sweet, soft voice, she said: "What ought I
to do, Mr. Fogg?"
"It is
very simple," responded the gentleman. "Go on to Europe."
"But I
cannot intrude—"
"You do
not intrude, nor do you in the least embarrass my project. Passepartout!"
"Monsieur."
"Go to
the Carnatic, and engage three cabins."
Passepartout,
delighted that the young woman, who was very gracious to him, was going
to continue the journey with them, went off at a brisk gait to obey his
master's order. |