Жюль Верн - Вокруг света за 80 дней / Around the World in Eighty Days

“Yes. And I hope you will not visa the passport.”

“Why not? If the passport is genuine [50] genuine – подлинный I have no right to refuse.”

“Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest him from London.”

“Ah, that’s your business. But I cannot…”

The consul did not finish his sentence. They heard a knock at the door, and two strangers entered. One of whom was the servant. The other was his master, and held out his passport. The consul took the document and carefully read it.

“You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?” said the consul.

“I am.”

“And this man is your servant?”

“He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout.”

“You are from London?”

“Yes.”

“And you are going…”

“To Bombay.”

“Very good, sir. You know that a visa is useless, and that no passport is required?”

“I know it, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg; “but I wish to prove, by your visa, that I came by Suez.”

“Very well, sir.”

The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he added his official seal. Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee and went out. His servant followed him.

“Well?” queried [51] queried – поинтересовался the detective.

“Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man,” replied the consul.

“Possibly. Do you think, consul, that this phlegmatic gentleman resembles the robber?”

“I concede that; but then, you know…”

“I’ll see,” interrupted Fix. “The servant is less mysterious than the master. Besides, he’s a Frenchman, and likes to talk. Excuse me, consul.”

Fix soon rejoined Passepartout on the quay.

“Well, my friend,” said the detective, “is your passport visaed?”

“Ah, it’s you, monsieur?” responded Passepartout. “Thanks, yes, the passport is all right. We travel so fast! So this is Suez?”

“Yes.”

“In Egypt?”

“Certainly, in Egypt.”

“And in Africa?”

“In Africa.”

“In Africa!” repeated Passepartout.

“You are in a great hurry, then?”

“I am not, but my master is. I must buy some shoes and shirts. We came away only with a carpet-bag.”

“I will show you an excellent shop.”

“Really, monsieur, you are very kind.”

And they walked off together. After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed:

“You left London hastily, then?”

“I think so! Last Friday at eight o’clock in the evening, Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour afterwards we were off.”

“But where will your master go?”

“Always straight ahead, round the world.”

“Round the world?” cried Fix.

“Yes, and in eighty days! He says it is on a wager; but I don’t believe it. There’s something else.”

“Ah! Is Mr. Fogg rich?”

“No doubt. He carries new banknotes with him. And he offered a large reward to the engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to Bombay very fast.”

“Do you know your master well?”

“No; I entered his service the very day we left London.”

The hasty departure from London soon after the robbery; the large sum that Mr. Fogg had; his eagerness [52] eagerness – стремление to reach distant countries-all confirmed Fix in his theory. He continued to ask poor Passepartout, and learned that he really knew little or nothing of his master, who lived in London, was rich, and was mysterious. Phileas Fogg won’t land at Suez, but will go to Bombay.

“Is Bombay far from here?” asked Passepartout.

“Yes. Ten days’ voyage by sea.”

“And in what country is Bombay?”

“India.”

“In Asia?”

“Certainly.”

Fix and Passepartout reached the shop, where Fix left his companion and hurried back to the consulate. Now he was fully convinced.

“Consul,” said he, “I have no doubt. That man wants to go round the world in eighty days.”

“Then he’s a smart fellow,” returned the consul.

Fix reported in a few words the most important parts of his conversation with Passepartout.

“So,” said the consul, “what will you do?”

“I’ll send a dispatch to London, follow my rogue to India, and there, on English ground, arrest him.”

The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and ten miles. Many passengers from Brindisi were going to Bombay, others for Calcutta. Phileas Fogg seldom went upon the deck, and he played whist. Passepartout escaped sea-sickness, and rather enjoyed the voyage.

“Oh,” said Passepartout when he approached, “you are the gentleman who met me at Suez?”

“Ah! I quite recognise you. You are the servant of the strange Englishman.”

“Just so, monsieur…”

“Fix.”

“Monsieur Fix,” resumed Passepartout, “Where are you going?”

“Like you, to Bombay.”

“That’s great! Do you know India?”

“Yes,” replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.

“A curious place, this India?”

“Oh, very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas, tigers, snakes, elephants! And how is Mr. Fogg?” asked Fix.

“Quite well, and I too.”

“But I never see your master on deck.”

After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix talked much. Meanwhile the Mongolia went rapidly, and instead of the 15th, arrived to Aden on the evening of the 14th. Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to visa the passport. Fix followed them. Then Mr. Fogg returned on board. Passepartout sauntered about among the mixed population of Somalis, Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans.

“Very curious, very curious,” said Passepartout to himself.

On Sunday, October 20th, towards noon, they saw the Indian coast. The Mongolia was at Bombay on the 20th.

India embraces fourteen hundred thousand square miles, its population is one hundred and eighty millions people. But British India only embraces seven hundred thousand square miles, and its population is from one hundred to one hundred and ten millions of inhabitants. A considerable portion of India is still free from British authority; and there are certain ferocious rajahs who are absolutely independent.

The passengers of the Mongolia went ashore at half-past four p.m. At eight the train will start for [53] will start for – отправится Calcutta. Mr. Fogg left the steamer, gave his servant several errands and directed his steps to the passport office. He did not care for the wonders of Bombay-its famous city hall, its splendid library, its forts and docks, its bazaars, mosques, synagogues, its Armenian churches, and the noble pagoda on Malabar Hill [54] Malabar Hill – Малабар-Хилл .

Then Phileas Fogg repaired quietly to the railway station, where he ordered dinner. Among the dishes, the landlord especially recommended a “native rabbit”. Mr. Fogg accordingly tasted the dish, but found it horrible. He rang for the landlord, and, on his appearance, said,

“Is this rabbit, sir?”

“Yes, my lord,” the rogue boldly replied, “rabbit from the jungles.”

“And this rabbit did not mew when they killed it?”

“Mew, my lord! What, a rabbit can’t mew! I swear to you…”

“Landlord, remember this: in India, cats were sacred animals. That was a good time.”

“For the cats, my lord?”

“Perhaps for the travelers as well!”

Fix went on shore shortly after Mr. Fogg. His first destination was the Bombay police. He nervously asked if a warrant arrived from London. It did not reach the office. Fix was disappointed, and tried to obtain an order of arrest from the director of the Bombay police. The director refused.