Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
None of the other steamers were able to serve his projects. The Pereire, of the French Transatlantic Company, whose admirable steamers are equal to any in speed and comfort, did not leave until the 14th; the Hamburg boats did not go directly to Liverpool or London, but to Havre; and the additional trip from Havre to Southampton would render Phileas Fogg's last efforts of no avail.
He remembered all too vividly that he had been chief engineer of Fogg's escapade of the preceding night. He had to economize on truth; originate a fit, burst a blood-vessel, and carry out several minor details to make the undertaking thoroughly convincing.
Entering the coach in waiting, to be driven, as they thought, to Dodson and Fogg's, they were alas! sadly deceived, for shortly afterwards Mrs. Bardell was safely deposited in the Fleet Prison for not having paid those rascals their costs, and promptly fainted in "real downright earnest." What happened to the rest of the party at the "Spaniards" history does not relate.
Fogg's house, so he must have left Clara Belle there, and Rebecca's heart glowed to think that her poor little friend need not miss the raising. She began to run now, fearful of being late for supper, and covered the ground to the falls in a brief time. As she crossed the bridge she again saw Abner Simpson's team, drawn up at the watering trough.
Admitting that he was at this moment taking an express train, he could reach London and the Reform Club by a quarter before nine P.M. His forehead slightly wrinkled. At thirty-three minutes past two he heard a singular noise outside, then a hasty opening of doors. Passepartout's voice was audible, and immediately after that of Fix. Phileas Fogg's eyes brightened for an instant.
In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and staggered back into Mr. Fogg's room. He could not speak. "What is the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg. "My master!" gasped Passepartout. "Marriage-impossible " "Impossible?" "Impossible for tomorrow." "Why so?" "Because tomorrow is Sunday!" "Monday," replied Mr. Fogg. "No today is Saturday." "Saturday? Impossible!"
The 16th of December was the seventy-fifth day since Phileas Fogg's departure from London, and the Henrietta had not yet been seriously delayed. Half of the voyage was almost accomplished, and the worst localities had been passed. In summer, success would have been well-nigh certain. In winter, they were at the mercy of the bad season.
It was certainly on the way, but as certainly it could not now reach Hong Kong for several days. This being the last English territory on Mr. Fogg's route, the robber would escape, unless he could manage to detain him. "Well, Monsieur Fix," said Passepartout, "have you decided to go with us as far as America?" "Yes," returned Fix, through his set teeth.
That Passepartout was not Fogg's accomplice, he was very certain. The servant, enlightened by his disclosure, and afraid of being himself implicated in the crime, would doubtless become an ally of the detective. But this method was a dangerous one, only to be employed when everything else had failed. A word from Passepartout to his master would ruin all.
The papers resumed their discussion about the wager; all those who had laid bets, for or against him, revived their interest, as if by magic; the "Phileas Fogg bonds" again became negotiable, and many new wagers were made. Phileas Fogg's name was once more at a premium on 'Change. His five friends of the Reform Club passed these three days in a state of feverish suspense.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking