In which Phileas Fogg, Passepartout and Fix all go about their business, but separately

In the final days of the crossing the weather was quite bad. The wind became very strong, and because it was blowing from the north-west it slowed down the steamer’s progress. The Rangoon, because of its lack of stability, rolled heavily and the passengers were entitled to feel a certain resentment towards the high waves that were whipped up by the wind from the open sea and that made them feel sick.

During 3 and 4 November there was quite a storm. Fierce gusts of wind lashed the sea. The Rangoon had to heave to for half a day, with its engine only ticking over so as to ride out the storm. All the sails had been furled, but even then the rigging whistled in the high wind.

As can well be imagined, the speed of the steamer was considerably reduced, and it was reasonable to assume that the arrival time in Hong Kong would be twenty hours later than scheduled, or even more if the storm did not abate.

Phileas Fogg observed this spectacle of a raging sea, which seemed to have been unleashed against him in particular, with his usual impassiveness. His expression showed no sign of anxiety, and yet a delay of twenty hours could put the whole journey in jeopardy by making him miss the departure of the steamer for Yokohama. But this man, who seemed totally imperturbable, felt neither impatience nor boredom. It really seemed as if the storm was part of his plan, that it had been taken into account. When discussing this setback with her companion, Mrs Aouda found him as calm as before.

Fix didn’t see things in the same light. Far from it. This storm was exactly what he wanted. His satisfaction would have known no bounds if the Rangoon had been forced to run before the storm. Any delay like this suited him because it would force this man Fogg to spend a few days in Hong Kong. At last the weather, in the form of gusts and gales, was on his side. Admittedly he wasn’t well, but what did that matter! He lost count of the number of times he’d been sick, but when his body was writhing from the effects of seasickness his mind was revelling in an immense sense of satisfaction.

As for Passepartout, it is easy to imagine what little effort he made to disguise his anger during this ordeal. Up until then everything had gone so well. Land and sea seemed at his master’s command. Steamers and railways obeyed him. Wind and steam united to further his progress. Was this the turning-point with things starting to go wrong? Passepartout was on tenterhooks, as if the £20,000 for the bet had come out of his own pocket. The storm got on his nerves, the gale infuriated him and he would happily have whipped the sea for its disobedience.1 Poor chap! Fix was careful to conceal from him his personal satisfaction and that was the sensible thing to do, because if Passepartout had sensed his secret enjoyment of the situation, Fix would have been in for it.

Passepartout stayed outside on the Rangoon all the time the gale lasted. He wouldn’t have been able to remain below deck. He climbed aloft, to the surprise of the crew, and, with the agility of a monkey, helped out with everything. He constantly questioned the captain, the officers and the men, who couldn’t help laughing when they saw how put out the fellow was. Passepartout wanted to know how long the storm would last. So they told him to go and look at the barometer, which stubbornly refused to rise. Passepartout shook the barometer, but nothing had any effect, neither shaking it nor hurling insults at the irresponsible instrument.

Finally the storm abated. The state of the sea changed during the day of 4 November. The wind shifted two points to the south and helped their progress again.

Passepartout calmed down like the weather. It was possible to put back the topsails and the lower sails, and the Rangoon continued its journey at an impressive rate of knots.

But it was not possible to make up all the time lost. The situation had to be accepted and land was not sighted until the 6th at five o’clock in the morning. The entry in Phileas Fogg’s travel plan gave the steamer’s date of arrival as the 5th, but the ship would not be there until the 6th. That meant that they would be twenty-four hours late and bound to miss the departure for Yokohama.

At six o’clock the pilot came on board the Rangoon and took his place on the bridge in order to guide the ship through the approaches to the port of Hong Kong.

Passepartout was dying to question this man and to ask him if the steamer for Yokohama had already left Hong Kong. But he didn’t dare to, preferring to retain a glimmer of hope until the last minute. He had confessed his concerns to Fix, who, the sly old fox that he was, attempted to console him by saying that all Mr Fogg had to do was to catch the next boat. This only made Passepartout even more angry.

However, if Passepartout wasn’t so bold as to question the pilot, Mr Fogg, on the other hand, after looking in his Bradshaw, asked the said person in that calm way of his if he knew when there’d be a boat from Hong Kong to Yokohama.

‘Tomorrow, on the morning tide,’ replied the pilot.

‘Oh!’ said Mr Fogg without showing any sign of surprise.

Passepartout, who was present at this exchange, would have liked to embrace the pilot, whereas Fix would have liked to wring his neck.

‘What’s the name of the steamer?’ asked Mr Fogg.

‘The Carnatic,’ replied the pilot.

‘But wasn’t it due to leave yesterday?’

‘Yes, sir, but it needed repairs to one of its boilers, and so its departure has been put back until tomorrow.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Mr Fogg, who with his machine-like walk went back down into the lounge of the Rangoon.

As for Passepartout, he grabbed the pilot’s hand and shook it vigorously, saying, ‘Pilot, you really are a good man.’

The pilot no doubt never understood why his replies produced such a warm-hearted response. When the whistle sounded he went back to the bridge and guided the steamer in through the armada of junks, tankas, fishing boats and ships of all sorts that cluttered up the approaches to Hong Kong.

By one o’clock the Rangoon had docked and the passengers were disembarking.

In the event, it must be said that things really had worked out in Phileas Fogg’s favour. If it hadn’t been for the need to repair the boilers, the Carnatic would have left on 5 November and anyone travelling to Japan would have had an eight-day wait for the next steamer to leave. Admittedly Mr Fogg was twenty-four hours behind schedule, but this delay couldn’t have serious repercussions on the rest of the journey.

As it happened, the steamer that did the crossing from Yokohama to San Francisco was a direct connection for the steamer from Hong Kong and it couldn’t leave before the latter had arrived. Of course, they would be twenty-four hours behind in reaching Yokohama, but it would be easy to make this time up during the twenty-two days it took to cross the Pacific. So Phileas Fogg was, give or take twenty-four hours, on schedule thirty-five days after leaving London.

As the Carnatic was not due to leave until five o’clock the next morning, Mr Fogg had sixteen hours in front of him to sort out his affairs, those concerning Mrs Aouda, that is. As they got off the ship he offered the young woman his arm and escorted her to a palanquin. He asked the porters for the name of a hotel and they suggested the Club Hotel. The palanquin set off, with Passepartout following, and twenty minutes later it arrived at its destination.

Phileas Fogg booked a suite for the young woman and saw to it that she had everything she wanted. Then he said to Mrs Aouda that he was going off immediately in search of this relative of hers, in whose safe-keeping he would leave her in Hong Kong. At the same time he told Passepartout to stay in the hotel until he came back, so that the young woman was not left on her own.

The gentleman then had himself driven to the Stock Exchange, where everyone was sure to know someone as important as the Honourable Jejeeh, one of the richest businessmen in the city.

The broker who Mr Fogg spoke to did indeed know the Parsee businessman. However, the latter had not lived in China for the past two years. After making his fortune he had settled in Europe – probably Holland, which was understandable given the large number of trading connections he had had with that country during his time as a businessman.

Phileas Fogg went back to the Club Hotel. He immediately asked Mrs Aouda’s permission to go up to see her and, getting straight to the point, informed her that the Honourable Jejeeh no longer lived in Hong Kong and that he was probably in Holland.

At first Mrs Aouda made no reply. She put her hand to her forehead and thought for a few moments. Then she said in that gentle voice of hers, ‘What should I do, Mr Fogg?’

‘It’s quite simple,’ the gentleman replied. ‘Come to Europe.’

‘But I can’t take advantage – ’

‘You are not taking advantage and your presence will not harm my plans in the least … Passepartout?’

‘Sir?’ replied Passpartout.

‘Go along to the Carnatic and reserve three cabins.’

Passepartout, delighted to be able to continue the journey in the company of the young woman, who was so considerate towards him, left the Club Hotel immediately.