Phileas Fogg, Passepartout, and Fix Go Their Separate Ways

The 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.

The weather was bad during the last days of the voyage. The wind kept blowing from the northwest, reaching gale force and slowing the steamer. The “Rangoon” rolled heavily, and the passengers grew impatient with the long, monstrous waves the wind raised in their path. On November 3, a storm arose. The squall battered the ship furiously, and the waves rose high. The crew reefed all the “Rangoon”’s sails, but even the rigging caught too much wind. It whistled and shook in the squall. The steamer had to move slowly, and the captain estimated that it would reach Hong Kong twenty hours late. If the storm lasted, the delay would be even longer.

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.

Phileas Fogg watched the stormy sea with his usual calm. The sea seemed to be struggling especially hard to delay him. His expression never changed, though a twenty-hour delay would make him miss the boat to Yokohama. Missing the boat would almost certainly cost him the wager. But this steady-nerved man showed neither impatience nor annoyance. It seemed as if the storm were part of his plan and he had expected it. Aouda was amazed to find him as calm as he had been when she first 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.

Fix saw things differently. The storm pleased him greatly. He would have been completely satisfied if the wind and waves had forced the “Rangoon” to turn back. Each delay filled him with hope. It made it more and more likely that Fogg would have to spend several days in Hong Kong. Now the heavens themselves were helping Fix, sending gusts and squalls. He did not mind that they made him seasick. While his body suffered from their effects, his spirits soared with hopeful excitement.

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 was furious beyond words at the bad weather. Everything had gone so well until now! Land and sea had seemed to be at his master's service. Steamships and railways obeyed him, and wind and steam joined forces to speed him on his journey. Had the time of hardship come? Passepartout was as worked up as if the twenty thousand pounds were coming from his own pocket. The storm enraged him, and the gale made him furious. He longed to whip the stubborn sea into obedience. Poor fellow! Fix took care to hide his own satisfaction from Passepartout. If he had shown it, Passepartout could hardly have stopped himself from attacking him.

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.

Passepartout stayed on deck for as long as the storm lasted. He could not sit still below and decided to help the crew move the ship along. He overwhelmed the captain, officers, and sailors with all kinds of questions. They could not help laughing at his impatience. He wanted to know exactly how long the storm would last, so they referred him to the barometer. It seemed to have no intention of rising. Passepartout shook the barometer, but nothing noticeably changed. Neither shaking nor curses could persuade 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.

On the 4th, however, the sea grew calmer and the storm eased. The wind shifted south and was favorable again. Passepartout’s spirits brightened with the weather. Some sails were unfurled, and the “Rangoon” resumed its fastest speed. But the lost time could not be made up. Land was not sighted until five o’clock on the morning of the 6th. The steamer had been due on the 5th. Phileas Fogg was twenty-four hours behind schedule and would, of course, miss the steamer to Yokohama.

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.

The pilot came aboard at six and took his place on the bridge. He would 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, because he wanted to hold on to his last spark of hope. He had shared his anxiety with Fix. The sly rascal tried to comfort him by saying that Mr. Fogg would be in time if he took the next boat. But this only made Passepartout furious.

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.

Mr. Fogg was bolder than his servant. He approached the pilot without hesitation and calmly asked when a steamer would leave Hong Kong for Yokohama.

“At high tide to-morrow morning,” answered the pilot.

“At high tide tomorrow morning,” the pilot replied.

“Ah!” said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any astonishment.

“Ah!” said Mr. Fogg, showing no surprise.

Passepartout, who heard what passed, would willingly have embraced the pilot, while Fix would have been glad to twist his neck.

Passepartout heard what happened and would gladly have hugged the pilot. But Fix would gladly have wrung the pilot's neck.

“What is the steamer’s name?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“What is the steamship’s name?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“The ‘Carnatic.’”

“The ‘Carnatic.’”

“Ought she not to have gone yesterday?”

“Shouldn't she have gone yesterday?”

“Yes, sir; but they had to repair one of her boilers, and so her departure was postponed till to-morrow.”

“Yes, sir, but they had to repair one of her boilers, so her departure was delayed until tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” returned Mr. Fogg, descending mathematically to the saloon.

“Thank you,” replied Mr. Fogg, going down to the saloon with precise, measured steps.

Passepartout clasped the pilot’s hand and shook it heartily in his delight, exclaiming, “Pilot, you are the best of good fellows!”

Delighted, Passepartout warmly shook the pilot’s hand and exclaimed, “Pilot, you’re the best of friends!”

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.

The pilot probably still does not know why his answers earned him such an enthusiastic greeting. He returned to the bridge and guided the steamer through the junks, tankas, and fishing boats crowding Hong Kong harbour.

At one o’clock the “Rangoon” was at the quay, and the passengers were going ashore.

At one o’clock, the “Rangoon” was at the dock, 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.

Chance had strangely favored Phileas Fogg. If the “Carnatic” had not been delayed for boiler repairs, she would have left on November 6. The passengers bound for Japan would then have had to wait a week for the next steamer. Mr. Fogg was indeed twenty-four hours behind schedule, but this delay could not seriously endanger the rest of his journey.

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 steamship crossing the Pacific from Yokohama to San Francisco connected directly with the ship from Hong Kong. It could not leave until the Hong Kong ship reached Yokohama. And if Mr. Fogg reached Yokohama twenty-four hours late, he would no doubt easily make up that time during the twenty-two-day Pacific crossing. So, thirty-five days after leaving London, he was about twenty-four hours behind schedule.

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.

The “Carnatic” was scheduled to leave Hong Kong at five the next morning. Mr. Fogg had sixteen hours to see Aouda safely to 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.

After landing, he took her to a palanquin, and they rode to the Club Hotel. A room was booked for the young woman. Mr. Fogg made sure she had everything she needed, then set out to find her cousin Jeejeeh. He told Passepartout to stay at the hotel until he returned, so Aouda would 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.

Mr. Fogg went to the Exchange. He was sure everyone there would know the wealthy and prominent Parsee merchant. He met a broker and asked about Jeejeeh. The broker told him that Jeejeeh had left China two years earlier. Jeejeeh had retired from business with an immense fortune and settled in Europe. The broker thought he lived in Holland, since he had mainly traded with Dutch merchants. Phileas Fogg returned to the hotel and asked to speak with Aouda for a moment. Without delay, he told her that Jeejeeh was no longer in 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?”

At first, Aouda said nothing. She ran her hand across her forehead and thought for a few moments. Then, in her sweet, soft voice, she said: “What should I do, Mr. Fogg?”

“It is very simple,” responded the gentleman. “Go on to Europe.”

“It’s very simple,” the gentleman replied. “Continue on to Europe.”

“But I cannot intrude—”

“But I can’t intrude...”

“You do not intrude, nor do you in the least embarrass my project. Passepartout!”

“You’re not intruding, and you’re not interfering with my plans at all. Passepartout!”

“Monsieur.”

“Sir.”

“Go to the ‘Carnatic,’ and engage three cabins.”

“Go to the ‘Carnatic’ and book 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.

Passepartout was delighted that the young woman, who was very kind to him, would continue the journey with them. He walked off briskly to carry out his master’s order.