What Phileas Fogg Gained: Perhaps Only Happiness

Yes; Phileas Fogg in person.

Yes, Phileas Fogg himself.

The reader will remember that at five minutes past eight in the evening—about five and twenty hours after the arrival of the travellers in London—Passepartout had been sent by his master to engage the services of the Reverend Samuel Wilson in a certain marriage ceremony, which was to take place the next day.

The reader will remember that Passepartout’s master sent him to arrange for the Reverend Samuel Wilson to conduct a marriage ceremony. He sent Passepartout at 8:05 in the evening, about twenty-five hours after the travellers arrived in London. The ceremony was to take place the next day.

Passepartout went on his errand enchanted. He soon reached the clergyman’s house, but found him not at home. Passepartout waited a good twenty minutes, and when he left the reverend gentleman, it was thirty-five minutes past eight. But in what a state he was! With his hair in disorder, and without his hat, he ran along the street as never man was seen to run before, overturning passers-by, rushing over the sidewalk like a waterspout.

Passepartout set off on his errand, delighted. He soon reached the clergyman’s house, but the clergyman was not home. Passepartout waited a good twenty minutes. When he left the clergyman, it was 8:35. But what a state he was in! His hair was a mess, and he had no hat. He ran down the street faster than anyone had ever been seen to run. He knocked over passersby and rushed along the sidewalk like a waterspout.

In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and staggered back into Mr. Fogg’s room.

Three minutes later, he was back on Saville Row and staggered into Mr. Fogg’s room.

He could not speak.

He could not speak.

“What is the matter?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“My master!” gasped Passepartout—“marriage—impossible—”

“My master!” gasped Passepartout. “Marriage, impossible.”

“Impossible?”

“Impossible?”

“Impossible—for to-morrow.”

“Impossible for tomorrow.”

“Why so?”

“Why is that?”

“Because to-morrow—is Sunday!”

“Because tomorrow is Sunday!”

“Monday,” replied Mr. Fogg.

“Monday,” said Mr. Fogg.

“No—to-day is Saturday.”

“No, today is Saturday.”

“Saturday? Impossible!”

“Saturday? Impossible!”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” cried Passepartout. “You have made a mistake of one day! We arrived twenty-four hours ahead of time; but there are only ten minutes left!”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” shouted Passepartout. “You made a mistake of one day! We arrived twenty-four hours early. But there are only ten minutes left!”

Passepartout had seized his master by the collar, and was dragging him along with irresistible force.

Passepartout had grabbed his master by the collar and was dragging him along with unstoppable force.

Phileas Fogg, thus kidnapped, without having time to think, left his house, jumped into a cab, promised a hundred pounds to the cabman, and, having run over two dogs and overturned five carriages, reached the Reform Club.

Kidnapped in this way, Phileas Fogg left his house without time to think. He jumped into a cab and promised the driver a hundred pounds. After running over two dogs and overturning five carriages, he reached the Reform Club.

The clock indicated a quarter before nine when he appeared in the great saloon.

The clock showed 8:45 when he entered the great saloon.

Phileas Fogg had accomplished the journey round the world in eighty days!

Phileas Fogg had traveled around the world in eighty days!

Phileas Fogg had won his wager of twenty thousand pounds!

Phileas Fogg had won his twenty-thousand-pound bet!

How was it that a man so exact and fastidious could have made this error of a day? How came he to think that he had arrived in London on Saturday, the twenty-first day of December, when it was really Friday, the twentieth, the seventy-ninth day only from his departure?

How could such a precise and careful man have made a mistake of one day? Why did he think he had arrived in London on Saturday, December 21? It was really Friday, December 20, only the seventy-ninth day since his departure.

The cause of the error is very simple.

The reason for the mistake is very simple.

Phileas Fogg had, without suspecting it, gained one day on his journey, and this merely because he had travelled constantly eastward; he would, on the contrary, have lost a day had he gone in the opposite direction, that is, westward.

Without realizing it, Phileas Fogg had gained a day on his journey. He had gained it simply because he had traveled constantly eastward. If he had traveled in the opposite direction, westward, he would have lost a day.

In journeying eastward he had gone towards the sun, and the days therefore diminished for him as many times four minutes as he crossed degrees in this direction. There are three hundred and sixty degrees on the circumference of the earth; and these three hundred and sixty degrees, multiplied by four minutes, gives precisely twenty-four hours—that is, the day unconsciously gained. In other words, while Phileas Fogg, going eastward, saw the sun pass the meridian eighty times, his friends in London only saw it pass the meridian seventy-nine times. This is why they awaited him at the Reform Club on Saturday, and not Sunday, as Mr. Fogg thought.

By traveling east, he had been moving toward the sun. His days grew shorter by four minutes for each degree he crossed in that direction. There are 360 degrees around the earth. Multiplied by four minutes, these 360 degrees come to exactly twenty-four hours. That was the day he had gained without realizing it. In other words, Phileas Fogg had seen the sun pass the meridian eighty times as he traveled east. His friends in London had seen it pass the meridian only seventy-nine times. That is why they expected him at the Reform Club on Saturday, not Sunday, as Mr. Fogg thought.

And Passepartout’s famous family watch, which had always kept London time, would have betrayed this fact, if it had marked the days as well as the hours and the minutes!

And Passepartout’s famous family watch had always kept London time. It would have revealed this fact if it had shown the days as well as the hours and minutes!

Phileas Fogg, then, had won the twenty thousand pounds; but, as he had spent nearly nineteen thousand on the way, the pecuniary gain was small. His object was, however, to be victorious, and not to win money. He divided the one thousand pounds that remained between Passepartout and the unfortunate Fix, against whom he cherished no grudge. He deducted, however, from Passepartout’s share the cost of the gas which had burned in his room for nineteen hundred and twenty hours, for the sake of regularity.

Phileas Fogg had won the twenty thousand pounds. But he had spent nearly nineteen thousand on the journey, so his financial gain was small. His goal, however, was to win, not to make money. He divided the remaining one thousand pounds between Passepartout and the unfortunate Fix. He held no grudge against Fix. But, for the sake of being precise, he deducted the cost of the gas from Passepartout’s share. The gas had burned in Passepartout’s room for nineteen hundred and twenty hours.

That evening, Mr. Fogg, as tranquil and phlegmatic as ever, said to Aouda: “Is our marriage still agreeable to you?”

That evening, Mr. Fogg was as calm and unflappable as ever. He asked Aouda, “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Mr. Fogg,” replied she, “it is for me to ask that question. You were ruined, but now you are rich again.”

“Mr. Fogg,” she replied, “I should be the one asking that question. You were ruined, but now you’re rich again.”

“Pardon me, madam; my fortune belongs to you. If you had not suggested our marriage, my servant would not have gone to the Reverend Samuel Wilson’s, I should not have been apprised of my error, and—”

“Forgive me, madam. My fortune belongs to you. If you had not suggested we marry, my servant would not have gone to Reverend Samuel Wilson’s. I would not have learned of my mistake, and...”

“Dear Mr. Fogg!” said the young woman.

“Dear Mr. Fogg!” said the young woman.

“Dear Aouda!” replied Phileas Fogg.

“Dear Aouda!” Phileas Fogg replied.

It need not be said that the marriage took place forty-eight hours after, and that Passepartout, glowing and dazzling, gave the bride away. Had he not saved her, and was he not entitled to this honour?

Of course, the wedding took place forty-eight hours later. Passepartout, glowing and dazzling, gave the bride away. Hadn't he saved her? Didn't he deserve this honor?

The next day, as soon as it was light, Passepartout rapped vigorously at his master’s door. Mr. Fogg opened it, and asked, “What’s the matter, Passepartout?”

The next day, as soon as it was light, Passepartout knocked hard on his master’s door. Mr. Fogg opened the door and asked, “What’s the matter, Passepartout?”

“What is it, sir? Why, I’ve just this instant found out—”

“What is it, sir? Why, I just found out this very moment...”

“What?”

“What?”

“That we might have made the tour of the world in only seventy-eight days.”

“That we could have traveled around the world in just seventy-eight days.”

“No doubt,” returned Mr. Fogg, “by not crossing India. But if I had not crossed India, I should not have saved Aouda; she would not have been my wife, and—”

“No doubt,” Mr. Fogg replied, “by not crossing India. But if I hadn’t crossed India, I wouldn’t have saved Aouda. She wouldn’t have become my wife, and...”

Mr. Fogg quietly shut the door.

Mr. Fogg quietly closed the door.

Phileas Fogg had won his wager, and had made his journey around the world in eighty days. To do this he had employed every means of conveyance—steamers, railways, carriages, yachts, trading-vessels, sledges, elephants. The eccentric gentleman had throughout displayed all his marvellous qualities of coolness and exactitude. But what then? What had he really gained by all this trouble? What had he brought back from this long and weary journey?

Phileas Fogg had won his bet and traveled around the world in eighty days. He had used every means of transport: steamships, trains, carriages, yachts, trading ships, sleds, and elephants. Throughout the journey, the eccentric gentleman had shown all his remarkable calm and precision. But what then? What had he really gained from all this trouble? What had he brought back from this long and tiring journey?

Nothing, say you? Perhaps so; nothing but a charming woman, who, strange as it may appear, made him the happiest of men!

Nothing, you say? Perhaps so. Nothing but a charming woman who, strange as it may seem, made him the happiest of men!

Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the world?

Really, wouldn't you travel around the world for less than that?