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Updated: June 10, 2025
John Bunsby, himself, a man of forty-five or thereabouts, vigorous, sunburnt, with a sprightly expression of the eye, and energetic and self-reliant countenance, would have inspired confidence in the most timid. Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where they found Fix already installed.
John Bunsby, master, at length gave the order to start, and the Tankadere, taking the wind under her brigantine, foresail, and standing-jib, bounded briskly forward over the waves. This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture on a craft of twenty tons, and at that season of the year.
'Cap'en Cuttle, repeated Mrs MacStinger, in the same determined manner, 'I wish to know if you're a-coming home, Sir. The Captain seemed quite ready to go, but faintly suggested something to the effect of 'not making so much noise about it. 'Ay, ay, ay, said Bunsby, in a soothing tone. 'Awast, my lass, awast!
The little boat still rocked hither and thither on the ocean billows. The five faces looked more haggard, and there was a wild, eager look upon them, as they scanned the horizon, hoping to see a ship. Their lips and throats were dry and parched. "I can't stand it no longer," said one it was the sailor I have called Jack "I shall drink some of the sea water." "Don't do it, Jack," said Bunsby.
A deep, gruff, husky utterance, which seemed to have no connexion with Bunsby, and certainly had not the least effect upon his face, replied, 'Ay, ay, shipmet, how goes it? At the same time Bunsby's right hand and arm, emerging from a pocket, shook the Captain's, and went back again.
"There will be some things left about, Mrs Bunsby," he said, "and I will get you to keep them till I call or send." Mrs Bunsby said that she would, and then looked her last at him. After that interview she never saw him again. When he was left alone he put on a rough morning coat, and taking up the pistol, placed it carefully in his pocket, and sallied forth.
Bunsby, who was one of those sages who act upon conviction, took some days to get the conviction thoroughly into his mind, that he had received a letter to this effect.
The next morning at dawn they espied the coast, and John Bunsby was able to assert that they were not one hundred miles from Shanghai. A hundred miles, and only one day to traverse them! That very evening Mr. Fogg was due at Shanghai, if he did not wish to miss the steamer to Yokohama.
It was the American steamer, leaving for Yokohama at the appointed time. "Confound her!" cried John Bunsby, pushing back the rudder with a desperate jerk. "Signal her!" said Phileas Fogg quietly. A small brass cannon stood on the forward deck of the Tankadere, for making signals in the fogs. It was loaded to the muzzle; but just as the pilot was about to apply a red-hot coal to the touchhole, Mr.
The whole were in good marching order; and a dreadful smartness that pervaded the party would have sufficiently announced, if the intrepid countenances of the ladies had been wanting, that it was a procession of sacrifice, and that the victim was Bunsby. The first impulse of the Captain was to run away.
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