"Is your
honour
looking
for a boat?"
"I am
sorry to have
nothing
better to offer
you." |
hile
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. |