The Money Bag Yields Several Thousand Pounds More

The train entered the station, and Passepartout jumping out first, was followed by Mr. Fogg, who assisted his fair companion to descend. Phileas Fogg intended to proceed at once to the Hong Kong steamer, in order to get Aouda comfortably settled for the voyage. He was unwilling to leave her while they were still on dangerous ground.

The train entered the station, and Passepartout jumped out first. Mr. Fogg followed and helped his lovely companion down. Phileas Fogg intended to go straight to the Hong Kong steamer to get Aouda comfortably settled for the voyage. He did not want to leave her while they were still on dangerous ground.

Just as he was leaving the station a policeman came up to him, and said, “Mr. Phileas Fogg?”

Just as he was leaving the station, a police officer approached him and said, “Mr. Phileas Fogg?”

“I am he.”

“I’m the one.”

“Is this man your servant?” added the policeman, pointing to Passepartout.

“Is this man your servant?” the police officer asked, pointing to Passepartout.

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Be so good, both of you, as to follow me.”

“Please, both of you, follow me.”

Mr. Fogg betrayed no surprise whatever. The policeman was a representative of the law, and law is sacred to an Englishman. Passepartout tried to reason about the matter, but the policeman tapped him with his stick, and Mr. Fogg made him a signal to obey.

Mr. Fogg showed no surprise at all. The policeman represented the law, and the law is sacred to an Englishman. Passepartout tried to argue, but the policeman tapped him with his stick. Mr. Fogg signaled to Passepartout to obey.

“May this young lady go with us?” asked he.

“May this young woman come with us?” he asked.

“She may,” replied the policeman.

“She may,” the policeman replied.

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout were conducted to a palkigahri, a sort of four-wheeled carriage, drawn by two horses, in which they took their places and were driven away. No one spoke during the twenty minutes which elapsed before they reached their destination. They first passed through the “black town,” with its narrow streets, its miserable, dirty huts, and squalid population; then through the “European town,” which presented a relief in its bright brick mansions, shaded by coconut-trees and bristling with masts, where, although it was early morning, elegantly dressed horsemen and handsome equipages were passing back and forth.

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout were led to a palkigahri, a four-wheeled carriage drawn by two horses. They got in and were driven away. No one spoke during the twenty-minute journey to their destination. They first passed through the “black town,” with its narrow streets, miserable, dirty huts, and people living in squalor. Then they passed through the “European town,” which was a relief, with its bright brick mansions shaded by coconut trees and its many masts. Although it was early morning, elegantly dressed riders and handsome carriages passed back and forth.

The carriage stopped before a modest-looking house, which, however, did not have the appearance of a private mansion. The policeman having requested his prisoners—for so, truly, they might be called—to descend, conducted them into a room with barred windows, and said: “You will appear before Judge Obadiah at half-past eight.”

The carriage stopped in front of a modest-looking house. But it did not look like a private residence. The policeman asked his prisoners to get out, for prisoners they truly were. He led them into a room with barred windows and said, “You will appear before Judge Obadiah at half past eight.”

He then retired, and closed the door.

He then left and closed the door.

“Why, we are prisoners!” exclaimed Passepartout, falling into a chair.

“We’re prisoners!” exclaimed Passepartout, sinking into a chair.

Aouda, with an emotion she tried to conceal, said to Mr. Fogg: “Sir, you must leave me to my fate! It is on my account that you receive this treatment, it is for having saved me!”

Aouda tried to hide her emotion as she spoke to Mr. Fogg. “Sir, you must leave me to my fate! You are being treated this way because of me, because you saved me!”

Phileas Fogg contented himself with saying that it was impossible. It was quite unlikely that he should be arrested for preventing a suttee. The complainants would not dare present themselves with such a charge. There was some mistake. Moreover, he would not, in any event, abandon Aouda, but would escort her to Hong Kong.

Phileas Fogg simply said it was impossible. It was very unlikely that he would be arrested for preventing a suttee. Those accusing him would not dare come forward with such a charge. There must be some mistake. Besides, he would not abandon Aouda under any circumstances, but would escort her to Hong Kong.

“But the steamer leaves at noon!” observed Passepartout, nervously.

“But the steamship leaves at noon!” Passepartout said nervously.

“We shall be on board by noon,” replied his master, placidly.

“We’ll be on board by noon,” his master replied calmly.

It was said so positively that Passepartout could not help muttering to himself, “Parbleu that’s certain! Before noon we shall be on board.” But he was by no means reassured.

It was said so confidently that Passepartout could not help muttering to himself, “Well, that’s certain! We’ll be on board before noon.” But he was not at all reassured.

At half-past eight the door opened, the policeman appeared, and, requesting them to follow him, led the way to an adjoining hall. It was evidently a court-room, and a crowd of Europeans and natives already occupied the rear of the apartment.

At half past eight, the door opened and the policeman appeared. He asked them to follow him and led them into an adjoining hall. It was clearly a courtroom, and a crowd of Europeans and local people already filled the back of the room.

Mr. Fogg and his two companions took their places on a bench opposite the desks of the magistrate and his clerk. Immediately after, Judge Obadiah, a fat, round man, followed by the clerk, entered. He proceeded to take down a wig which was hanging on a nail, and put it hurriedly on his head.

Mr. Fogg and his two companions sat on a bench opposite the desks of the magistrate and his clerk. Immediately afterward, Judge Obadiah, a fat, round man, entered, followed by the clerk. He took a wig down from a nail and hurriedly put it on.

“The first case,” said he. Then, putting his hand to his head, he exclaimed, “Heh! This is not my wig!”

“The first case,” he said. Then he put his hand on his head and exclaimed, “Hey! This isn’t my wig!”

“No, your worship,” returned the clerk, “it is mine.”

“No, your honor,” the clerk replied, “it’s mine.”

“My dear Mr. Oysterpuff, how can a judge give a wise sentence in a clerk’s wig?”

“My dear Mr. Oysterpuff, how can a judge give a wise sentence while wearing a clerk’s wig?”

The wigs were exchanged.

The wigs were swapped.

Passepartout was getting nervous, for the hands on the face of the big clock over the judge seemed to go around with terrible rapidity.

Passepartout was getting nervous because the hands on the big clock above the judge seemed to be moving terribly fast.

“The first case,” repeated Judge Obadiah.

“The first case,” repeated Judge Obadiah.

“Phileas Fogg?” demanded Oysterpuff.

“Phileas Fogg?” Oysterpuff demanded.

“I am here,” replied Mr. Fogg.

“I am here,” said Mr. Fogg.

“Passepartout?”

“Passepartout?”

“Present,” responded Passepartout.

“Present,” replied Passepartout.

“Good,” said the judge. “You have been looked for, prisoners, for two days on the trains from Bombay.”

“Good,” said the judge. “Prisoners, they have been looking for you on the trains from Bombay for two days.”

“But of what are we accused?” asked Passepartout, impatiently.

“But what are we accused of?” Passepartout asked impatiently.

“You are about to be informed.”

“You’re about to find out.”

“I am an English subject, sir,” said Mr. Fogg, “and I have the right—”

“I am an English citizen, sir,” said Mr. Fogg, “and I have the right...”

“Have you been ill-treated?”

“Have you been mistreated?”

“Not at all.”

“Not at all.”

“Very well; let the complainants come in.”

“All right, let the people who made the complaint come in.”

A door was swung open by order of the judge, and three Indian priests entered.

The judge ordered a door opened, and three Indian priests entered.

“That’s it,” muttered Passepartout; “these are the rogues who were going to burn our young lady.”

“That’s it,” muttered Passepartout. “These are the scoundrels who were going to burn our young lady.”

The priests took their places in front of the judge, and the clerk proceeded to read in a loud voice a complaint of sacrilege against Phileas Fogg and his servant, who were accused of having violated a place held consecrated by the Brahmin religion.

The priests stood before the judge. The clerk read aloud a complaint of sacrilege against Phileas Fogg and his servant. They were accused of violating a place held sacred by the Brahmin religion.

“You hear the charge?” asked the judge.

“Did you hear the charge?” asked the judge.

“Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Fogg, consulting his watch, “and I admit it.”

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Fogg replied, checking his watch, “and I admit it.”

“You admit it?”

“You admit it?”

“I admit it, and I wish to hear these priests admit, in their turn, what they were going to do at the pagoda of Pillaji.”

“I admit it, and I want these priests to admit what they were going to do at the pagoda of Pillaji.”

The priests looked at each other; they did not seem to understand what was said.

The priests looked at each other. They did not seem to understand what had been said.

“Yes,” cried Passepartout, warmly; “at the pagoda of Pillaji, where they were on the point of burning their victim.”

“Yes,” Passepartout cried eagerly. “At the pagoda of Pillaji, where they were about to burn their victim.”

The judge stared with astonishment, and the priests were stupefied.

The judge stared in amazement, and the priests were stunned.

“What victim?” said Judge Obadiah. “Burn whom? In Bombay itself?”

“What victim?” said Judge Obadiah. “Burn whom? Right here in Bombay?”

“Bombay?” cried Passepartout.

“Bombay?” cried Passepartout.

“Certainly. We are not talking of the pagoda of Pillaji, but of the pagoda of Malabar Hill, at Bombay.”

“Of course. We’re not talking about the pagoda of Pillaji, but the pagoda on Malabar Hill in Bombay.”

“And as a proof,” added the clerk, “here are the desecrator’s very shoes, which he left behind him.”

“And as proof,” the clerk added, “here are the desecrator’s own shoes, which he left behind.”

Whereupon he placed a pair of shoes on his desk.

Then he placed a pair of shoes on his desk.

“My shoes!” cried Passepartout, in his surprise permitting this imprudent exclamation to escape him.

“My shoes!” cried Passepartout, letting the unwise words slip out in his surprise.

The confusion of master and man, who had quite forgotten the affair at Bombay, for which they were now detained at Calcutta, may be imagined.

One can imagine how confused the master and his servant were. They had completely forgotten the incident in Bombay for which they were now being held in Calcutta.

Fix the detective, had foreseen the advantage which Passepartout’s escapade gave him, and, delaying his departure for twelve hours, had consulted the priests of Malabar Hill. Knowing that the English authorities dealt very severely with this kind of misdemeanour, he promised them a goodly sum in damages, and sent them forward to Calcutta by the next train. Owing to the delay caused by the rescue of the young widow, Fix and the priests reached the Indian capital before Mr. Fogg and his servant, the magistrates having been already warned by a dispatch to arrest them should they arrive. Fix’s disappointment when he learned that Phileas Fogg had not made his appearance in Calcutta may be imagined. He made up his mind that the robber had stopped somewhere on the route and taken refuge in the southern provinces. For twenty-four hours Fix watched the station with feverish anxiety; at last he was rewarded by seeing Mr. Fogg and Passepartout arrive, accompanied by a young woman, whose presence he was wholly at a loss to explain. He hastened for a policeman; and this was how the party came to be arrested and brought before Judge Obadiah.

Fix, the detective, had seen how Passepartout’s escapade could help him. He delayed his departure for twelve hours and consulted the priests of Malabar Hill. Fix knew that the English authorities dealt very harshly with this kind of offense. He promised the priests a large sum in damages and sent them to Calcutta on the next train. Fogg and his servant were delayed by the rescue of the young widow. As a result, Fix and the priests reached the Indian capital before them. The magistrates had already been warned by dispatch to arrest Fogg and his servant if they arrived. One can imagine Fix’s disappointment when he learned that Phileas Fogg had not appeared in Calcutta. He decided that the robber had stopped somewhere along the route and taken refuge in the southern provinces. For twenty-four hours, Fix watched the station with feverish anxiety. At last, his watch was rewarded. He saw Mr. Fogg and Passepartout arrive with a young woman, whose presence he could not explain at all. He hurried to find a policeman. That was how the party came to be arrested and brought before Judge Obadiah.

Had Passepartout been a little less preoccupied, he would have espied the detective ensconced in a corner of the court-room, watching the proceedings with an interest easily understood; for the warrant had failed to reach him at Calcutta, as it had done at Bombay and Suez.

If Passepartout had been a little less preoccupied, he would have spotted the detective sitting in a corner of the courtroom. The detective was watching the proceedings with understandable interest. The warrant had failed to reach him in Calcutta, just as it had in Bombay and Suez.

Judge Obadiah had unfortunately caught Passepartout’s rash exclamation, which the poor fellow would have given the world to recall.

Unfortunately, Judge Obadiah had heard Passepartout’s rash outburst. The poor fellow would have given anything to take it back.

“The facts are admitted?” asked the judge.

“Are the facts admitted?” asked the judge.

“Admitted,” replied Mr. Fogg, coldly.

“Agreed,” Mr. Fogg replied coldly.

“Inasmuch,” resumed the judge, “as the English law protects equally and sternly the religions of the Indian people, and as the man Passepartout has admitted that he violated the sacred pagoda of Malabar Hill, at Bombay, on the 20th of October, I condemn the said Passepartout to imprisonment for fifteen days and a fine of three hundred pounds.”

“English law protects the religions of the Indian people equally and strictly,” the judge continued. “Passepartout has admitted that he violated the sacred pagoda of Malabar Hill, in Bombay, on October 20. For these reasons, I sentence Passepartout to fifteen days in prison and a fine of three hundred pounds.”

“Three hundred pounds!” cried Passepartout, startled at the largeness of the sum.

“Three hundred pounds!” cried Passepartout, startled by how much money it was.

“Silence!” shouted the constable.

“Quiet!” shouted the constable.

“And inasmuch,” continued the judge, “as it is not proved that the act was not done by the connivance of the master with the servant, and as the master in any case must be held responsible for the acts of his paid servant, I condemn Phileas Fogg to a week’s imprisonment and a fine of one hundred and fifty pounds.”

“And it has not been proved that the servant acted without the master’s knowledge and agreement,” continued the judge. “In any case, the master must be held responsible for the actions of his paid servant. Therefore, I sentence Phileas Fogg to one week in prison and a fine of one hundred and fifty pounds.”

Fix rubbed his hands softly with satisfaction; if Phileas Fogg could be detained in Calcutta a week, it would be more than time for the warrant to arrive. Passepartout was stupefied. This sentence ruined his master. A wager of twenty thousand pounds lost, because he, like a precious fool, had gone into that abominable pagoda!

Fix rubbed his hands gently with satisfaction. If Phileas Fogg could be held in Calcutta for a week, the warrant would have more than enough time to arrive. Passepartout was stunned. The sentence ruined his master. The twenty-thousand-pound wager was lost, all because he had been such a fool as to enter that horrible pagoda!

Phileas Fogg, as self-composed as if the judgment did not in the least concern him, did not even lift his eyebrows while it was being pronounced. Just as the clerk was calling the next case, he rose, and said, “I offer bail.”

Phileas Fogg remained calm, as if the judgment did not concern him at all. He did not even raise his eyebrows as the judgment was read. Just as the clerk was calling the next case, he stood up and said, “I offer bail.”

“You have that right,” returned the judge.

“You have that right,” replied the judge.

Fix’s blood ran cold, but he resumed his composure when he heard the judge announce that the bail required for each prisoner would be one thousand pounds.

Fix’s blood ran cold. But he regained his composure when he heard the judge set bail at one thousand pounds for each prisoner.

“I will pay it at once,” said Mr. Fogg, taking a roll of bank-bills from the carpet-bag, which Passepartout had by him, and placing them on the clerk’s desk.

“I will pay it right away,” said Mr. Fogg. He took a roll of banknotes from the carpetbag beside Passepartout and placed them on the clerk’s desk.

“This sum will be restored to you upon your release from prison,” said the judge. “Meanwhile, you are liberated on bail.”

“This money will be returned to you when you are released from prison,” said the judge. “Meanwhile, you are free on bail.”

“Come!” said Phileas Fogg to his servant.

“Come!” Phileas Fogg said to his servant.

“But let them at least give me back my shoes!” cried Passepartout angrily.

“But at least let them give me back my shoes!” Passepartout cried angrily.

“Ah, these are pretty dear shoes!” he muttered, as they were handed to him. “More than a thousand pounds apiece; besides, they pinch my feet.”

“Ah, these are pretty expensive shoes!” he muttered as they were handed to him. “More than a thousand pounds each, and they pinch my feet too.”

Mr. Fogg, offering his arm to Aouda, then departed, followed by the crestfallen Passepartout. Fix still nourished hopes that the robber would not, after all, leave the two thousand pounds behind him, but would decide to serve out his week in jail, and issued forth on Mr. Fogg’s traces. That gentleman took a carriage, and the party were soon landed on one of the quays.

Mr. Fogg offered Aouda his arm and left, followed by the dejected Passepartout. Fix still hoped that the robber would not leave the two thousand pounds behind after all, but would serve his week in jail instead. He set off after Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg took a carriage, and the party soon arrived at one of the docks.

The “Rangoon” was moored half a mile off in the harbour, its signal of departure hoisted at the mast-head. Eleven o’clock was striking; Mr. Fogg was an hour in advance of time. Fix saw them leave the carriage and push off in a boat for the steamer, and stamped his feet with disappointment.

The “Rangoon” was anchored half a mile away in the harbor, with its departure signal raised at the top of the mast. Eleven o’clock was striking. Mr. Fogg was an hour early. Fix saw them leave the carriage and set off in a boat for the steamer. He stamped his feet in disappointment.

“The rascal is off, after all!” he exclaimed. “Two thousand pounds sacrificed! He’s as prodigal as a thief! I’ll follow him to the end of the world if necessary; but, at the rate he is going on, the stolen money will soon be exhausted.”

“The rascal has gotten away after all!” he exclaimed. “Two thousand pounds wasted! He spends money as recklessly as a thief! I’ll follow him to the end of the world if necessary. But at this rate, the stolen money will soon run out.”

The detective was not far wrong in making this conjecture. Since leaving London, what with travelling expenses, bribes, the purchase of the elephant, bails, and fines, Mr. Fogg had already spent more than five thousand pounds on the way, and the percentage of the sum recovered from the bank robber promised to the detectives, was rapidly diminishing.

The detective’s guess was not far off. Since leaving London, Mr. Fogg had already spent more than five thousand pounds. The money had gone toward travel expenses, bribes, the purchase of the elephant, bail, and fines. As a result, the detectives’ promised percentage of the money recovered from the bank robber was rapidly shrinking.