Скачать книгу

descended, and at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross[43]. The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes past eight. Passepartout followed his master, who was ready to enter the station, when a poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, approached, and mournfully asked for alms.

      Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas and handed them to the beggar,

      “Here, my good woman. I’m glad that I met you.”

      Passepartout saw it; his master’s action touched his susceptible heart. Mr. Fogg bought two first-class tickets for Paris, and then perceived his five friends of the Reform.

      “Well, gentlemen,” said he, “I go, you see; and you will be able to examine my passport when I get back.”

      “Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg,” said Ralph politely. “We will trust your word.”

      “You do not forget when you are in London again?” asked Stuart.

      “In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen.”

      Phileas Fogg and his servant sat in a first-class carriage at twenty minutes before nine. Five minutes later the whistle screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the station.

      Chapter V

      Phileas Fogg did not suspect that his departure from London created a lively sensation at the West End[44]. The news of the bet soon got into the papers throughout England. They talked, disputed, argued about his “tour of the world”. Many people shook their heads and declared against him. It was absurd, impossible – in this minimum of time! People in general thought him a lunatic, and blamed his Reform Club friends for this wager.

      A few readers of the Daily Telegraph even dared to say, “Why not, after all? Stranger things happened.” Everybody knows that to bet is in the English temperament. Not only the members of the Reform, but the general public, made wagers for or against Phileas Fogg. He became a race-horse. But everybody was against Fogg, and the bets stood a hundred and fifty and two hundred to one.

      A week after his departure an incident occurred. The commissioner of police was in his office at nine o’clock one evening, when the following telegraphic dispatch arrived:

      “Suez to London.

      Rowan, Commissioner of Police, Scotland Yard[45]:

      I found the bank robber, Phileas Fogg. Send with out delay warrant of arrest[46] to Bombay.

      Fix, Detective”.

      The effect of this dispatch was instantaneous. The polished gentleman disappeared to give place to the bank robber. The mysterious habits of Phileas Fogg were recalled; his solitary ways, his sudden departure.

      Chapter VI

      The circumstances were as follows. The steamer Mongolia[47] plied regularly between Brindisi and Bombay via the Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest steamers.

      Two men walked up and down the wharves, among the crowd of natives and strangers. One was the British consul at Suez. The other was a small personage, with a nervous, intelligent face and bright eyes. He was nervously paced up and down, and was unable to stand still for a moment. This was Fix, one of the detectives. Fix came from to catch the bank robber. It was his task to watch every passenger who arrived at Suez, and to follow up all suspicious characters. The detective hoped to obtain the splendid reward, and awaited with a feverish impatience, easy to understand, the arrival of the steamer Mongolia.

      “So you say, consul,” said he, “that this steamer comes directly from Brindisi?”

      “Directly from Brindisi. Have patience, Mr. Fix; it will not be late. But really, I don’t see how, from the description you have, you will be able to recognise your man, even if he is on board the Mongolia.”

      “A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than recognises them. You must have a scent for them – hearing, seeing, and smelling. If my thief is on board, he’ll not slip through my fingers.”

      “I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery.”

      “A magnificent robbery, consul; fifty-five thousand pounds!”

      “Mr. Fix,” said the consul, “I hope you’ll succeed; but what about your description?”

      “Consul,” remarked the detective, dogmatically, “great robbers always resemble honest folks. To unmask honest countenances, it’s a difficult task, I admit.”

      Soon Mongolia appeared. It brought many passengers, some of whom remained on deck. Fix carefully examined each face. Presently one of the passengers came up to him and politely asked about the English consulate. Fix instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance read the description of its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise nearly escaped him, for the description in the passport was identical with that of the bank robber from Scotland Yard.

      “Is this your passport?” asked he.

      “No, it’s my master’s.”

      “And your master is…”

      “He stayed on board.”

      “But he must go to the consul’s in person.”

      “Oh, is that necessary?”

      “Quite indispensable.”

      “And where is the consulate?”

      “There, on the corner of the square,” said Fix.

      “I’ll go and fetch my master.”

      The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer.

      Chapter VII

      The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly came to the consul’s office.

      “Consul,” said he, without preamble[48], “I think that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia.”

      “Well, Mr. Fix,” replied the consul, “I want to see the rascal’s face; but perhaps he won’t come here. A robber doesn’t like to leave traces.”

      “If he is shrewd, consul, he will come.”

      “To have his passport visaed[49]?”

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

      “Why not? If the passport is genuine[50] 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

Скачать книгу


<p>43</p>

Charing Cross – Чаринг-Кросс

<p>44</p>

West End – Уэст-Энд (западная часть Лондона)

<p>45</p>

Scotland Yard – Скотланд-Ярд (штаб-квартира полицейского учреждения в Англии)

<p>46</p>

warrant of arrest – ордер на арест

<p>47</p>

Mongolia – «Монголия» (название пакебота)

<p>48</p>

without preamble – без предисловий

<p>49</p>

to have his passport visaed – визировать свой паспорт

<p>50</p>

genuine – подлинный