Around the World in Eighty Days. Junior Deluxe Edition

by Jules Verne

  Chapter 33

  In Which Phileas Fogg Shows Himself Equal to the Occasion

  An hour later, the Henrietta passed the lighthouse which marksthe entrance of the Hudson, turned the point of Sandy Hook, andput to sea. During the day she skirted Long Island, passed FireIsland, and directed her course rapidly eastward.

  At noon the next day, a man mounted the bridge to ascertain thevessel's position. It might be thought that this was CaptainSpeedy. Not the least in the world. It was Phileas Fogg, Esquire.As for Captain Speedy, he was shut up in his cabin under lock andkey, and was uttering loud cries, which signified an anger atonce pardonable and excessive.

  What had happened was very simple. Phileas Fogg wished to go toLiverpool, but the captain would not carry him there. ThenPhileas Fogg had taken passage for Bordeaux, and, during thethirty hours he had been on board, had so shrewdly managed withhis banknotes that the sailors and stokers, who were only anoccasional crew, and were not on the best terms with thecaptain, went over to him in a body. This was why Phileas Foggwas in command instead of Captain Speedy; why the captain was aprisoner in his cabin; and why, in short, the Henrietta wasdirecting her course towards Liverpool. It was very clear, to seeMr. Fogg manage the craft, that he had been a sailor.

  How the adventure ended will be seen soon. Aouda was anxious,though she said nothing. As for Passepartout, he thought Mr.Fogg's maneuver simply glorious. The captain had said "betweeneleven and twelve knots," and the Henrietta confirmed hisprediction.

  If, then--for there were "ifs" still--the sea did not becometoo violent, if the wind did not veer round to the east, if noaccident happened to the boat or its machinery, the Henriettamight cross the three thousand miles from New York to Liverpoolin the nine days, between the 12th and the 21st of December. Itis true that, once arrived, the affair on board the Henrietta,added to that of the Bank of England, might create moredifficulties for Mr. Fogg than he imagined or could desire.

  During the first days, they went along smoothly enough. The seawas not very unpropitious, the wind seemed stationary in thenortheast, the sails were hoisted, and the Henrietta ploughedacross the waves like a real trans-Atlantic steamer.

  Passepartout was delighted. His master's last exploit, theconsequences of which he ignored, enchanted him. Never had thecrew seen so jolly and dexterous a fellow. He formed warmfriendships with the sailors, and amazed them with his acrobaticfeats. He thought they managed the vessel like gentlemen, andthat the stokers fired up like heroes. His loquacious good-humorinfected everyone. He had forgotten the past, its vexations anddelays. He only thought of the end, so nearly accomplished.Sometimes he boiled over with impatience, as if heated by thefurnaces of the Henrietta. Often, also, the worthy fellowrevolved around Fix, looking at him with a keen, distrustful eye,but he did not speak to him, for their old intimacy no longerexisted.

  Fix, it must be confessed, understood nothing of what was goingon. The conquest of the Henrietta, the bribery of the crew, Foggmanaging the boat like a skilled seaman, amazed and confused him.He did not know what to think. For, after all, a man who began bystealing fifty-five thousand pounds might end by stealing avessel; and Fix was not unnaturally inclined to conclude that theHenrietta, under Fogg's command, was not going to Liverpool atall, but to some part of the world where the robber, turned intoa pirate, would quietly put himself in safety. The conjecture wasat least a plausible one, and the detective began to seriouslyregret that he had embarked on the affair.

  As for Captain Speedy, he continued to howl and growl in hiscabin. Passepartout, whose duty it was to carry him his meals,courageous as he was, took the greatest precautions. Mr. Fogg didnot seem even to know that there was a captain on board.

  On the 13th they passed the edge of the banks of Newfoundland, adangerous locality. During the winter, especially, there arefrequent fogs and heavy gales of wind. Ever since the eveningbefore, the barometer, suddenly falling, had indicated anapproaching change in the atmosphere. During the night thetemperature varied, the cold became sharper, and the wind veeredto the southeast.

  This was a misfortune. Mr. Fogg, in order not to deviate from hiscourse, furled his sails and increased the force of the steam;but the vessel's speed slackened, owing to the state of the sea,the long waves of which broke against the stern. She pitchedviolently, and this retarded her progress. The breeze little bylittle swelled into a tempest, and it was to be feared that theHenrietta might not be able to maintain herself upright on thewaves.

  Passepartout's visage darkened with the skies, and for two daysthe poor fellow experienced constant fright. But Phileas Fogg wasa bold mariner, and knew how to maintain headway against the sea.He kept on his course, without even decreasing his steam. TheHenrietta, when she could not rise upon the waves, crossed them,swamping her deck, but passing safely. Sometimes the screw roseout of the water, beating its protruding end, when a mountain ofwater raised the stern above the waves, but the craft always keptstraight ahead.

  The wind, however, did not grow as violent as might have beenfeared. It was not one of those tempests which burst, and rush onwith a speed of ninety miles an hour. It continued fresh, but,unhappily, it remained obstinately in the southeast, renderingthe sails useless.

  The 16th of December was the seventy-fifth day since PhileasFogg's departure from London, and the Henrietta had not yet beenseriously delayed. Half of the voyage was almost accomplished,and the worst localities had been passed. In summer, successwould have been well-nigh certain. In winter, they were at themercy of the bad season. Passepartout said nothing; but hecherished hope in secret, and comforted himself with thereflection that, if the wind failed them, they might still counton the steam.

  On this day the engineer came on deck, went up to Mr. Fogg, andbegan to speak earnestly with him. Without knowing why--it was apresentiment, perhaps--Passepartout became vaguely uneasy. Hewould have given one of his ears to hear with the other what theengineer was saying. He finally managed to catch a few words, andwas sure he heard his master say, "You are certain of what youtell me?"

  "Certain, sir," replied the engineer. "You must remember that,since we started, we have kept up hot fires in all our furnaces.Though we had coal enough to go on short steam from New York toBordeaux, we haven't enough to go with all steam from New York toLiverpool."

  "I will consider," replied Mr. Fogg.

  Passepartout understood it all. He was seized with mortalanxiety. The coal was giving out! "Ah, if my master can get overthat," he muttered, "he'll be a famous man!" He could not helpimparting to Fix what he had overheard.

  "Then you believe that we really are going to Liverpool?"

  "Of course."

  "Ass!" replied the detective, shrugging his shoulders and turningon his heel.

  Passepartout was on the point of vigorously resenting theepithet, the reason of which he could not for the life of himcomprehend; but he reflected that the unfortunate Fix wasprobably very much disappointed and humiliated in hisself-esteem, after having so awkwardly followed a false scentaround the world, and he said nothing.

  And now what course would Phileas Fogg adopt? It was difficult toimagine. Nevertheless he seemed to have decided upon one, forthat evening he sent for the engineer, and said to him, "Feed allthe fires until the coal is exhausted."

  A few moments after, the funnel of the Henrietta vomited forthtorrents of smoke. The vessel continued to proceed with all steamon; but on the 18th, the engineer, as he had predicted, announcedthat the coal would give out in the course of the day.

  "Do not let the fires go down," replied Mr. Fogg. "Keep them upto the last. Let the valves be filled."

  Towards noon Phileas Fogg, having ascertained their position,called Passepartout, and ordered him to go for Captain Speedy. Itwas as if the honest fellow had been commanded to unchain atiger. He went to the poop, saying to himself, "He will be like amadman!"

  In a few moments, with cries and oaths, a bomb appeared on thepoop-deck. The bomb was Captain Speedy. It was clear that he wason the point of
bursting. "Where are we?" were the first wordshis anger permitted him to utter. Had the poor man beenapoplectic, he could never have recovered from his paroxysm ofwrath.

  "Where are we?" he repeated, with purple face.

  "Seven hundred and seven miles from Liverpool," replied Mr. Fogg,with imperturbable calmness.

  "Pirate!" cried Captain Speedy.

  "I have sent for you, sir--"

  "Pickaroon!"

  "--sir," continued Mr. Fogg, "to ask you to sell me your vessel."

  "No! By all the devils, no!"

  "But I shall be obliged to burn her."

  "Burn the Henrietta!"

  "Yes, at least the upper part of her. The coal has givenout."

  "Burn my vessel!" cried Captain Speedy, who could scarcelypronounce the words. "A vessel worth fifty thousand dollars!"

  "Here are sixty thousand," replied Phileas Fogg, handing thecaptain a roll of bank bills. This had a prodigious effect onAndrew Speedy. An American can scarcely remain unmoved at thesight of sixty thousand dollars. The captain forgot in an instanthis anger, his imprisonment, and all his grudges against hispassenger. The Henrietta was twenty years old. It was a greatbargain. The bomb would not go off after all. Mr. Fogg had takenaway the match.

  "And I shall still have the iron hull," said the captain in asofter tone.

  "The iron hull and the engine. Is it agreed?"

  "Agreed."

  And Andrew Speedy, seizing the banknotes, counted them andconsigned them to his pocket.

  During this colloquy, Passepartout was as white as a sheet, andFix seemed on the point of having an apoplectic fit. Nearlytwenty thousand pounds had been expended, and Fogg left the hulland engine to the captain, that is, near the whole value of thecraft! It was true, however, that fifty-five thousand pounds hadbeen stolen from the Bank.

  When Andrew Speedy had pocketed the money, Mr. Fogg said to him,"Don't let this astonish you, sir. You must know that I shalllose twenty thousand pounds, unless I arrive in London by aquarter before nine of the evening of the 21st of December. Imissed the steamer at New York, and as you refused to take me toLiverpool--"

  "And I did well," cried Andrew Speedy; "for I have gained atleast forty thousand dollars by it!" He added, more sedately, "Doyou know one thing, Captain--"

  "Fogg."

  "Captain Fogg, you've got something of the Yankee about you."

  And, having paid his passenger what he considered a highcompliment, he was going away, when Mr. Fogg said, "The vesselnow belongs to me?"

  "Certainly, from the keel to the truck of the masts--all thewood, that is."

  "Very well. Have the interior seats, bunks, and frames pulleddown, and burn them."

  It was necessary to have dry wood to keep the steam up to theadequate pressure, and on that day the poop, cabins, bunks andthe spare deck were sacrificed. On the next day, the 19th ofDecember, the masts, rafts and spars were burned. The crew workedlustily, keeping up the fires. Passepartout hewed, cut and sawedaway with all his might. There was a perfect rage fordemolition.

  The railings, fittings, the greater part of the deck and topsides disappeared on the 20th, and the Henrietta was now only aflat hulk. But on this day they sighted the Irish coast andFastnet Light. By ten in the evening they were passingQueenstown. Phileas Fogg had only twenty-four hours more in whichto get to London. That length of time was necessary to reachLiverpool, with all steam on. And the steam was about to give outaltogether!

  "Sir," said Captain Speedy, who was now deeply interested in Mr.Fogg's project, "I really pity you. Everything is against you. Weare only opposite Queenstown."

  "Ah," said Mr. Fogg, "is that place where we see the lightsQueenstown?"

  "Yes."

  "Can we enter the harbor?"

  "Not under three hours. Only at high tide."

  "Wait," replied Mr. Fogg calmly, without betraying in hisfeatures that by a supreme inspiration he was about to attemptonce more to conquer ill fortune.

  Queenstown is the Irish port at which the trans-Atlantic steamersstop to put off the mails. These mails are carried to Dublin byexpress trains always held in readiness to start. From Dublinthey are sent on to Liverpool by the most rapid boats, and thusgain twelve hours on the Atlantic steamers.

  Phileas Fogg counted on gaining twelve hours in the same way.Instead of arriving at Liverpool the next evening by theHenrietta, he would be there by noon, and would therefore havetime to reach London before a quarter before nine in theevening.

  The Henrietta entered Queenstown Harbor at one o'clock in themorning, it then being high tide. Phileas Fogg, after beinggrasped heartily by the hand by Captain Speedy, left thatgentleman on the leveled hulk of his craft, which was still worthhalf what he had sold it for.

  The party went on shore at once. Fix was greatly tempted toarrest Mr. Fogg on the spot; but he did not. Why? What strugglewas going on within him? Had he changed his mind about "his man"?Did he understand that he had made a grave mistake? He did not,however, abandon Mr. Fogg. They all got on the train, which wasjust ready to start, at half-past one. At dawn of day they werein Dublin; and they lost no time in embarking on a steamer which,disdaining to rise upon the waves, invariably cut through them.

  Phileas Fogg at last disembarked on the Liverpool quay, at twentyminutes before twelve, the 21st of December. He was only sixhours distant from London.

  But at this moment Fix came up, put his hand upon Mr. Fogg'sshoulder, and, showing his warrant, said, "You are really PhileasFogg?"

  "I am."

  "I arrest you in the Queen's name!"