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IN WHICH THE RED SEA AND THE INDIAN OCEAN PROVE PROPITIOUS
TO THE DESIGNS OF PHILEAS FOGG
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 280 pounds, brigadiers, 2,400 pounds, and generals of divisions,
4,000 pounds. 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 whirled 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 impassible 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 recognise 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
his 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 sea-sickness, 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 recognise 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 Peninsular
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's
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 glass of
whiskey or pale ale in the steamer bar-room, which 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 Somanlis, 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 hours later
the 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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