Round the World in Eighty Days Part 35

"Sir," said Speedy, who was now almost as much interested as the rest, "I should really suggest your giving up the game. Everything is against you. We are only just pa.s.sing Queenstown."

"Ah," exclaimed Fogg, "is that Queenstown where the lights are?"

"Yes."

"Cannot we enter the harbour?"

"Not before three o'clock; the tide will not serve."

"Let us wait then," said Fogg calmly, without betraying any emotion that, by a last effort, he was about to conquer his ill-luck.

Queenstown is the port at which the American mails are landed, which are then forwarded to Dublin by an express train, and from thence to Liverpool[A] by fast steamers, thus gaining twelve hours upon the fastest vessels.

[Footnote A: Holyhead.--_Trans_.]

Mr. Fogg calculated upon gaining this s.p.a.ce of time, and so, instead of reaching Liverpool next evening, he would be there at noon, and be able to reach London by a quarter to nine p.m.

About one a.m. the _Henrietta_ entered Queenstown, and Mr. Fogg, exchanging a clasp of the hand with Captain Speedy, left that personage upon the vessel, now a mere hulk.

All the party went ash.o.r.e at once. Fix was much inclined to arrest Fogg on the spot, but refrained. Why? Did he think he was mistaken after all? At any rate he would not abandon Mr. Fogg. They all got into the train at half-past one a.m., and were in Dublin at daybreak, and immediately embarked on the mail-steamer which, disdaining to ride over the waves, cut through them.

At twenty minutes to twelve (noon) Mr. Fogg disembarked at Liverpool.[B] He was within six hours' run from London now.

[Footnote B: Holyhead.--_Trans_.]

But at that moment Fix approached him, and putting his hand upon Mr.

Fogg's shoulder, said:

"Are you really Phileas Fogg?"

"Yes," was the reply.

"Then I arrest you in the Queen's name!"

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

In which Pa.s.se-partout uses Strong Language.

Phileas Fogg was in prison. He had been shut up in the Custom House, pending his removal to London.

Pa.s.se-partout would have attacked Fix when he arrested his master, had not some policemen prevented him. Mrs. Aouda was quite upset by the occurrence, which was quite unintelligible to her. Pa.s.se-partout explained to her how it had come to pa.s.s, and the young lady, who was of course powerless, wept bitterly.

Fix had merely done his duty, whether Mr. Fogg was guilty or not guilty. The judge would decide that.

It then occurred to Pa.s.se-partout that this was all his fault. Why had he not communicated the facts to Mr. Fogg? He should have told him who Fix was and his errand. Thus forewarned he could have given proofs of his innocence, and at any rate the detective would not in that case have travelled at Mr. Fogg's expense, and arrested him the moment he landed. As he thought of all this Pa.s.se-partout was ready to shoot himself. Neither he nor Aouda left the Custom House, notwithstanding the cold weather. They were anxious to see Mr. Fogg once more.

As for that gentleman he was completely ruined, and at the very moment he had succeeded in his attempt. The arrest was fatal. He had just eight hours and forty-five minutes to reach the Reform Club, and six hours would have sufficed to get to London.

Could anyone have seen Mr. Fogg they would have found him seated calmly on a form in the Custom House, as cool as ever. Resigned is scarcely the word to apply to him, but to all appearance he was as unmoved as ever. If he was raging within he did not betray any symptoms of anger. Was it possible that he still hoped to succeed?

At any rate he had carefully placed his watch on the table before him, and was watching it intently. Not a word escaped him, but his eyes wore a curious fixed expression. Honest or not, he was caught and ruined.

Was he thinking of escape, did he think of looking for an outlet? It was not unlikely, for every now and then he got up and walked round the room. But the door and window were both firmly closed and barred.

He sat down, and drawing his journal from his pocket, read:

"21st December, Sat.u.r.day, Liverpool."

To this he added--

"Eightieth day, 11.40 a.m."

Then he waited. The clock of the Custom House struck one. Mr. Fogg perceived that his watch was two minutes fast.

Two o'clock came! Admitting that he could at that moment get into an express train, he might yet arrive in London and reach the Reform Club in time.

At 2.33 he heard a noise outside of opening doors. He could distinguish Pa.s.se-partout and Fix's voices. Mr. Fogg's eyes glittered.

The door was flung open and Mrs. Aouda, Fix, and Pa.s.se-partout rushed in.

"Ah sir!" exclaimed Fix, hurrying up to the prisoner, "a thousand pardons--an unfortunate resemblance! The true thief is arrested. You are free, free!"

Phileas Fogg was free. He walked quietly up to the detective, looked him steadily in the face for a second, and with a movement of his arm knocked him down!

"Well hit!" exclaimed Pa.s.se-partout. "By jingo, that's a proper application of the art of self-defence!"

Fix lay flat on the ground, and did not say a word. He had only received his deserts. Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Pa.s.se-partout immediately quitted the Custom House, jumped into a cab, and drove to the railway-station.

Mr. Fogg inquired when there would be a train for London. It was 2.40; the train had left five-and-thirty minutes before. Mr. Fogg ordered a "special."