They
put in
at Steamer
Point
Passepartout,
according
to custom,
sauntered
about |
he
distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and ten
miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one hundred
and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia, thanks to
the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so rapid was her
speed, to reach her destination considerably within that time. The greater
part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for India some for Bombay,
others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the nearest route thither, now that
a railway crosses the Indian peninsula. Among the passengers was a number
of officials and military officers of various grades, the latter being
either attached to the regular British forces or commanding the Sepoy troops,
and receiving high salaries ever since the central government has assumed
the powers of the East India Company: for the sub-lieutenants get 280 pounds,
brigadiers, 2,400 pounds, and generals of divisions, 4,000 pounds. What
with the military men, a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels,
and the hospitable efforts of the purser, the time passed quickly on the
Mongolia. The best of fare was spread upon the cabin tables at breakfast,
lunch, dinner, and the eight o'clock supper, and the ladies scrupulously
changed their toilets twice a day; and the hours were whirled away, when
the sea was tranquil, with music, dancing, and games.
But the
Red Sea is full of caprice, and often boisterous, like most long and narrow
gulfs. When the wind came from the African or Asian coast the Mongolia,
with her long hull, rolled fearfully. Then the ladies speedily disappeared
below; the pianos were silent; singing and dancing suddenly ceased. Yet
the good ship ploughed straight on, unretarded by wind or wave, towards
the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. What was Phileas Fogg doing all this time?
It might be thought that, in his anxiety, he would be constantly watching
the changes of the wind, the disorderly raging of the billows--every chance,
in short, which might force the Mongolia to slacken her speed, and thus
interrupt his journey. But, if he thought of these possibilities, he did
not betray the fact by any outward sign.
Always
the same impeccable member of the Reform Club, whom no incident could surprise,
as unvarying as the ship's chronometers, and seldom having the curiosity
even to go upon the deck, he passed through the memorable scenes of the
Red Sea with cold indifference; did not care to recognise the historic
towns and villages which, along its borders, raised their picturesque outlines
against the sky; and betrayed no fear of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf,
which the old historians always spoke of with horror, and upon which the
ancient navigators never ventured without propitiating the gods by ample
sacrifices. How did this eccentric personage pass his time on the Mongolia?
He made his four hearty meals every day, regardless of the most persistent
rolling and pitching on the part of the steamer; and he played whist indefatigably,
for he had found partners as enthusiastic in the game as himself. A tax-collector,
on the way to his post at Goa; the Rev. Decimus Smith, returning to his
parish at Bombay; and a brigadier-general of the English army, who was
about to rejoin his brigade at Benares, made up the party, and, with Mr.
Fogg, played whist by the hour together in absorbing silence.
As for
Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, and took his meals conscientiously
in the forward cabin. He rather enjoyed the voyage, for he was well fed
and well lodged, took a great interest in the scenes through which they
were passing, and consoled himself with the delusion that his master's
whim would end at Bombay. He was pleased, on the day after leaving Suez,
to find on deck the obliging person with whom he had walked and chatted
on the quays.
"If I
am not mistaken," said he, approaching this person, with his most amiable
smile, "you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered to guide me at
Suez?"
"Ah! I
quite recognise you. You are the servant of the strange Englishman--"
"Just
so, monsieur--"
"Fix."
"Monsieur
Fix," resumed Passepartout, "I'm charmed to find you on board. Where are
you bound?"
"Like
you, to Bombay."
"That's
capital! Have you made this trip before?"
"Several
times. I am one of the agents of the Peninsular Company."
"Then
you know India?"
"Why yes,"
replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.
"A curious
place, this India?"
"Oh, very
curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas, tigers, snakes, elephants!
I hope you will have ample time to see the sights."
"I hope
so, Monsieur Fix. You see, a man of sound sense ought not to spend his
life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train, and from a railway train
upon a steamer again, pretending to make the tour of the world in eighty
days! No; all these gymnastics, you may be sure, will cease at Bombay."
"And Mr.
Fogg is getting on well?" asked Fix, in the most natural tone in the world.
"Quite
well, and I too. I eat like a famished ogre; it's the sea air.
"But I
never see your master on deck."
"Never;
he hasn't the least curiosity."
"Do you
know, Mr. Passepartout, that this pretended tour in eighty days may conceal
some secret errand--perhaps a diplomatic mission?"
"Faith,
Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about it, nor would I give half
a crown to find out."
After
this meeting, Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of chatting together,
the latter making it a point to gain the worthy man's confidence. He frequently
offered him a glass of whiskey or pale ale in the steamer bar-room, which
Passepartout never failed to accept with graceful alacrity, mentally pronouncing
Fix the best of good fellows.
Meanwhile
the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly; on the 13th, Mocha, surrounded
by its ruined walls whereon date-trees were growing, was sighted, and on
the mountains beyond were espied vast coffee-fields. Passepartout was ravished
to behold this celebrated place, and thought that, with its circular walls
and dismantled fort, it looked like an immense coffee-cup and saucer. The
following night they passed through the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which
means in Arabic The Bridge of Tears, and the next day they put in at Steamer
Point, north-west of Aden harbour, to take in coal. This matter of fuelling
steamers is a serious one at such distances from the coal-mines; it costs
the Peninsular Company some eight hundred thousand pounds a year. In these
distant seas, coal is worth three or four pounds sterling a ton.
The Mongolia
had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to traverse before reaching Bombay,
and was obliged to remain four hours at Steamer Point to coal up. But this
delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect Phileas Fogg's programme; besides,
the Mongolia, instead of reaching Aden on the morning of the 15th, when
she was due, arrived there on the evening of the 14th, a gain of fifteen
hours.
Mr. Fogg
and his servant went ashore at Aden to have the passport again visaed;
Fix, unobserved, followed them. The visa procured, Mr. Fogg returned on
board to resume his former habits; while Passepartout, according to custom,
sauntered about among the mixed population of Somanlis, Banyans, Parsees,
Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who comprise the twenty-five thousand inhabitants
of Aden. He gazed with wonder upon the fortifications which make this place
the Gibraltar of the Indian Ocean, and the vast cisterns where the English
engineers were still at work, two thousand years after the engineers of
Solomon.
"Very
curious, very curious," said Passepartout to himself, on returning to the
steamer. "I see that it is by no means useless to travel, if a man wants
to see something new." At six p.m. the Mongolia slowly moved out of the
roadstead, and was soon once more on the Indian Ocean. She had a hundred
and sixty-eight hours in which to reach Bombay, and the sea was favourable,
the wind being in the north-west, and all sails aiding the engine. The
steamer rolled but little, the ladies, in fresh toilets, reappeared on
deck, and the singing and dancing were resumed. The trip was being accomplished
most successfully, and Passepartout was enchanted with the congenial companion
which chance had secured him in the person of the delightful Fix. On Sunday,
October 20th, towards noon, they came in sight of the Indian coast: two
hours later the pilot came on board. A range of hills lay against the sky
in the horizon, and soon the rows of palms which adorn Bombay came distinctly
into view. The steamer entered the road formed by the islands in the bay,
and at half-past four she hauled up at the quays of Bombay.
Phileas
Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty-third rubber of the voyage,
and his partner and himself having, by a bold stroke, captured all thirteen
of the tricks, concluded this fine campaign with a brilliant victory.
The Mongolia
was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she arrived on the 20th. This was a gain
to Phileas Fogg of two days since his departure from London, and he calmly
entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column of gains. |