《Around the World In 80 Days》 CHAPTER9
by Jules Verne
The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and
ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one
hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The `Mongolia',
thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so
rapid was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that
time. The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for
India - some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the nearest
route thither, now that a railway crosses the Indian peninsula. Among
the passengers was a number of officials and military officers of various
grades, the latter being either attached to the regular British forces,
or commanding the Sepoy troops and receiving high salaries ever since
the central government has assumed the powers of the East India Company:
for the sub-lieutenants get 280l., brigadiers, 2400l., and generals
of division, 4000l. What with the military men, a number of rich young
Englishmen on their travels, and the hospitable efforts of the purser,
the time passed quickly on the `Mongolia'. The best of fare was spread
upon the cabin tables at breakfast, lunch, dinner and the eight o'clock
supper, and the ladies scrupulously changed their toilets twice a day;
and the hours were whiled away, when the sea was tranquil, with music,
dancing and games.
But the Red Sea is full of caprice, and often boisterous, like most
long and narrow gulfs. When the wind came from the African or Asian
coast the `Mongolia', with her long hull, rolled fearfully. Then the
ladies speedily disappeared below; the pianos were silent; singing and
dancing suddenly ceased. Yet the good ship ploughed straight on, unretarded
by wind or wave, towards the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. What was Phileas
Fogg doing all this time? It might be thought that, in his anxiety,
he would be constantly watching the changes of the wind, the disorderly
raging of the billows - every chance, in short, which might force the
`Mongolia' to slacken her speed, and thus interrupt his journey. But
if he thought of these possibilities, he did not betray the fact by
any outward sign.
Always the same impassable member of the Reform Club, whom no incident
could surprise, as unvarying as the ship's chronometers, and seldom
having the curiosity even to go upon the deck, he passed through the
memorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference; did not care
to recognize the historic towns and villages which, along its borders,
raised their picturesque outlines against the sky; and betrayed no fear
of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the old historians always spoke
of with horror, and upon which the ancient navigators never ventured
without propitiating the gods by ample sacrifices. How did this eccentric
personage pass the time on the `Mongolia'? He made his four hearty meals
every day, regardless of the most persistent rolling and pitching on
the part of the steamer; and he played whist indefatigably, for he had
found partners as enthusiastic in the game as himself. A tax collector,
on the way to his post at Goa; the Rev Decimus Smith, returning to his
parish at Bombay; and a brigadier-general of the English army, who was
about to rejoin his brigade at Benares, made up the party, and, with
Mr Fogg, played whist by the hour together in absorbing silence.
As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped seasickness, and took his
meals conscientiously in the forward cabin. He rather enjoyed the voyage,
for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in the scenes
through which they were passing, and consoled himself with the delusion
that his master's whim would end at Bombay. He was pleased, on the day
after leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging person with whom he
had walked and chatted on the quays.
`If I am not mistaken,' said he, approaching this person with his most
amiable smile, `you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered to guide
me at Suez?'
`Ah! I quite recognize you. You are the servant of the strange Englishman--'
`Just so, Monsieur--'
`Fix.'
`Monsieur Fix,' resumed Passepartout, `I'm charmed to find you on board.
Where are you bound?'
`Like you, to Bombay.'
`That's capital! Have you made this trip before?'
`Several times. I am one of the agents of the Peninsula Company.'
`Then you know India?'
`Why - yes,' replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.
`A curious place, this India?'
`Oh, very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas, tigers,
snakes, elephants! I hope you will have ample time to see the sights.'
`I hope so, Monsieur Fix. You see, a man of sound sense ought not to
spend his life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train, and from
a railway train upon a steamer again, pretending to make the tour of
the world in eighty days! No; all these gymnastics, you may be sure,
will cease at Bombay.'
`And Mr Fogg is getting on well?' asked Fix, in the most natural tone
in the world.
`Quite well, and I too. I eat like a famished ogre; it, the sea air.'
`But I never see your master on deck.'
`Never; he hasn't the least curiosity.'
`Do you know, Mr Passepartout, that this pretended tour in eighty days
may conceal some secret errand - perhaps a diplomatic mission?'
`Faith, Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about it, nor would
I give half-a-crown to find out.'
After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of chatting
together, the latter making it a point to gain the worthy man's confidence.
He frequently offered him a d@!!!
瘃^ ~ ?@ch Passepartout never failed to accept with graceful alacrity,
mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good fellows.
Meanwhile the `Mongolia' was pushing forward rapidly; on the 13th,
Mocha, surrounded by its ruined walls whereon date-trees were growing,
was sighted, and on the mountains beyond were espied vast coffee-fields.
Passepartout was ravished to behold this celebrated place, and thought
that, with its circular walls and dismantled fort, it looked like an
immense coffee cup and saucer. The following night they passed through
the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which means in Arabic `The Bridge of Tears',
and the next day they put in at Steamer Point, north-west of Aden harbour,
to take in coal. This matter of fuelling steamers is a serious one at
such distances from the coal mines; it costs the Peninsular Company
some eight hundred thousand pounds a year. In these distant seas, coal
is worth three or four pounds sterling a ton.
The `Mongolia' had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to traverse
before reaching Bombay, and was obliged to remain four hours at Steamer
Point to coal up. But this delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect
Phileas Fogg's programme; besides, the `Mongolia', instead of reaching
Aden on the morning of the 15th, when she was due, arrived there on
the evening of the 14th, a gain of fifteen hours.
Mr Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have the passport again
visaed; Fix, unobserved, followed them. The visa procured, Mr Fogg returned
on board to resume his former habits; while Passepartout, according
to custom, sauntered about among the mixed population of Somalis, Banyans,
Parsees, Jews, Arabs and Europeans who comprise the twenty-five thousand
inhabitants of Aden. He gazed with wonder upon the fortifications which
make this place the Gibraltar of the Indian Ocean, and the vast cisterns
where the English engineers were still at work, two thousand years after
the engineers of Solomon.
`Very curious, very curious,' said Passepartout to himself, on returning
to the steamer. `I see that it is by no means useless to travel, if
a man wants to see something new.' At six p.m. the `Mongolia' slowly
moved out of the roadstead, and was soon once more on the Indian Ocean.
She had a hundred and sixty-eight hours in which to reach Bombay, and
the sea was favourable, the wind being in the north-west, and all sails
aiding the engine. The steamer rolled but little, the ladies, in fresh
toilets, reappeared on deck, and the singing and dancing were resumed.
The trip was being accomplished most successfully, and Passepartout
was enchanted with the congenial companion which chance had secured
him in the person of the delightful Fix. On Sunday, October 20th, towards
noon, they came in sight of the Indian coast: two hour later pilot came
on board. A range of hills lay against the sky in the horizon, and soon
the rows of palms which adorn Bombay came distinctly into view. The
steamer entered the road formed by the islands in the bay, and at half-past
four she hauled up at the quays of Bombay.
Phileas Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty-third rubber of
the voyage, and his partner and himself having, by a bold stroke, captured
all thirteen of the tricks, concluded this fine campaign with a brilliant
victory.
The `Mongolia' was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she arrived on the 20th.
This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of two days since his departure from
London, and he calmly entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column
of gains.
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