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IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG'S NAME IS ONCE MORE AT A PREMIUM ON 'CHANGE
It is time to relate what a change took place in English public
opinion when it transpired that the real bankrobber, a certain
James Strand, had been arrested, on the 17th day of December,
at Edinburgh. Three days before, Phileas Fogg had been a criminal,
who was being desperately followed up by the police; now he was
an honourable gentleman, mathematically pursuing his eccentric
journey round the world.
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. Would Phileas Fogg, whom they
had forgotten, reappear before their eyes! Where was he at this
moment? The 17th of December, the day of James Strand's arrest,
was the seventy-sixth since Phileas Fogg's departure, and no news
of him had been received. Was he dead? Had he abandoned the effort,
or was he continuing his journey along the route agreed upon?
And would he appear on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter
before nine in the evening, on the threshold of the Reform Club
saloon?
The anxiety in which, for three days, London society existed,
cannot be described. Telegrams were sent to America and Asia for
news of Phileas Fogg. Messengers were dispatched to the house
in Saville Row morning and evening. No news. The police were ignorant
what had become of the detective, Fix, who had so unfortunately
followed up a false scent. Bets increased, nevertheless, in number
and value. Phileas Fogg, like a racehorse, was drawing near his
last turning-point. The bonds were quoted, no longer at a hundred
below par, but at twenty, at ten, and at five; and paralytic old
Lord Albemarle bet even in his favour.
A great crowd was collected in Pall Mall and the neighbouring
streets on Saturday evening; it seemed like a multitude of brokers
permanently established around the Reform Club. Circulation was
impeded, and everywhere disputes, discussions, and financial transactions
were going on. The police had great difficulty in keeping back
the crowd, and as the hour when Phileas Fogg was due approached,
the excitement rose to its highest pitch.
The five antagonists of Phileas Fogg had met in the great saloon
of the club. John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, the bankers,
Andrew Stuart, the engineer, Gauthier Ralph, the director of the
Bank of England, and Thomas Flanagan, the brewer, one and all
waited anxiously.
When the clock indicated twenty minutes past eight, Andrew
Stuart got up, saying, "Gentlemen, in twenty minutes the
time agreed upon between Mr. Fogg and ourselves will have expired."
"What time did the last train arrive from Liverpool?"
asked Thomas Flanagan.
"At twenty-three minutes past seven," replied Gauthier
Ralph; "and the next does not arrive till ten minutes after
twelve."
"Well, gentlemen," resumed Andrew Stuart, "if
Phileas Fogg had come in the 7:23 train, he would have got here
by this time. We can, therefore, regard the bet as won."
"Wait; don't let us be too hasty," replied Samuel
Fallentin. "You know that Mr. Fogg is very eccentric. His
punctuality is well known; he never arrives too soon, or too late;
and I should not be surprised if he appeared before us at the
last minute."
"Why," said Andrew Stuart nervously, "if I should
see him, I should not believe it was he."
"The fact is," resumed Thomas Flanagan, "Mr.
Fogg's project was absurdly foolish. Whatever his punctuality,
he could not prevent the delays which were certain to occur; and
a delay of only two or three days would be fatal to his tour."
"Observe, too," added John Sullivan, "that we
have received no intelligence from him, though there are telegraphic
lines all along is route."
"He has lost, gentleman," said Andrew Stuart, "he
has a hundred times lost! You know, besides, that the China the
only steamer he could have taken from New York to get here in
time arrived yesterday. I have seen a list of the passengers,
and the name of Phileas Fogg is not among them. Even if we admit
that fortune has favoured him, he can scarcely have reached America.
I think he will be at least twenty days behind-hand, and that
Lord Albemarle will lose a cool five thousand."
"It is clear," replied Gauthier Ralph; "and
we have nothing to do but to present Mr. Fogg's cheque at Barings
to-morrow."
At this moment, the hands of the club clock pointed to twenty
minutes to nine.
"Five minutes more," said Andrew Stuart.
The five gentlemen looked at each other. Their anxiety was
becoming intense; but, not wishing to betray it, they readily
assented to Mr. Fallentin's proposal of a rubber.
"I wouldn't give up my four thousand of the bet,"
said Andrew Stuart, as he took his seat, "for three thousand
nine hundred and ninety-nine."
The clock indicated eighteen minutes to nine.
The players took up their cards, but could not keep their eyes
off the clock. Certainly, however secure they felt, minutes had
never seemed so long to them!
"Seventeen minutes to nine," said Thomas Flanagan,
as he cut the cards which Ralph handed to him.
Then there was a moment of silence. The great saloon was perfectly
quiet; but the murmurs of the crowd outside were heard, with now
and then a shrill cry. The pendulum beat the seconds, which each
player eagerly counted, as he listened, with mathematical regularity.
"Sixteen minutes to nine!" said John Sullivan, in
a voice which betrayed his emotion.
One minute more, and the wager would be won. Andrew Stuart
and his partners suspended their game. They left their cards,
and counted the seconds.
At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth, still nothing.
At the fifty-fifth, a loud cry was heard in the street, followed
by applause, hurrahs, and some fierce growls.
The players rose from their seats.
At the fifty-seventh second the door of the saloon opened;
and the pendulum had not beat the sixtieth second when Phileas
Fogg appeared, followed by an excited crowd who had forced their
way through the club doors, and in his calm voice, said, "Here
I am, gentlemen!"
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