Jules Verne · a new plain-English translation from the original language
During the last days of the crossing, the weather was quite bad. The wind grew very strong. Fixed in the northwest, it hindered the steamer's progress. The Rangoon, too unsteady, rolled heavily, and the passengers had every right to bear a grudge against those long, sickening swells the wind raised from the open sea.
During the days of the 3rd and 4th of November, there was a kind of storm. The squall lashed the sea with violence. The Rangoon had to lie to for half a day, holding herself with only ten turns of the screw, so as to take the seas at an angle. All the sails had been furled, and it was still too much of that rigging whistling in the midst of the gusts.
The steamer's speed, as may be imagined, was notably reduced, and it was reckoned that she would make Hong Kong twenty hours behind the scheduled time, and even more, if the storm did not let up.
Phileas Fogg watched this spectacle of a furious sea, which seemed to be striving directly against him, with his customary impassiveness. His brow did not darken for a moment, and yet a delay of twenty hours could jeopardize his voyage by making him miss the departure of the Yokohama steamer. But this man without nerves felt neither impatience nor annoyance. It really seemed that this storm fell within his program, that it had been foreseen. Mrs. Aouda, who talked with her companion about this setback, found him as calm as ever.
Fix, for his part, did not see these things with the same eye. Quite the contrary. This storm pleased him. His satisfaction would even have been boundless had the Rangoon been forced to run before the tempest. All these delays suited him, for they would oblige Mr. Fogg to stay a few days at Hong Kong. At last the sky, with its gusts and squalls, was playing his game. He was rather ill, to be sure, but what did it matter! He did not count his bouts of nausea, and, while his body writhed under seasickness, his mind reveled in an immense satisfaction.
As for Passepartout, one can guess in what ill-concealed anger he passed this time of trial. Until then everything had gone so well! Land and water had seemed devoted to his master. Steamers and railways did his bidding. Wind and steam joined to favor his voyage. Had the hour of setbacks at last struck, then? Passepartout, as if the twenty thousand pounds of the wager were to come out of his own purse, could no longer bear it. This storm exasperated him, this gale drove him into a fury, and he would gladly have whipped that disobedient sea! Poor fellow! Fix carefully hid his personal satisfaction from him, and he did well, for if Passepartout had guessed Fix's secret contentment, Fix would have had a bad quarter of an hour.
Passepartout, throughout the squall, stayed on the Rangoon's deck. He could not have stayed below; he climbed into the rigging; he astonished the crew and lent a hand at everything with the agility of a monkey. A hundred times he questioned the captain, the officers, the sailors, who could not help laughing to see a fellow so put out. Passepartout absolutely wanted to know how long the storm would last. He was then sent back to the barometer, which would not make up its mind to rise. Passepartout shook the barometer, but nothing came of it, neither the shaking nor the abuse he heaped on the irresponsible instrument.
At last the tempest subsided. The state of the sea changed during the day of the 4th of November. The wind shifted two points to the south and became favorable again.
Passepartout brightened along with the weather. The topsails and the lower sails could be set, and the Rangoon resumed its course at a marvelous speed.
But all the lost time could not be made up. There was nothing for it but to accept the fact, and land was not sighted until the 6th, at five in the morning. Phileas Fogg's itinerary put the steamer's arrival on the 5th. Now, it was arriving only on the 6th. That was therefore twenty-four hours' delay, and the departure for Yokohama would necessarily be missed.
At six o'clock, the pilot came aboard the Rangoon and took his place on the bridge, in order to steer the ship through the passes to the port of Hong Kong.
Passepartout was dying to question this man, to ask him whether the Yokohama steamer had left Hong Kong. But he dared not, preferring to keep a little hope until the last instant. He had confided his anxieties to Fix, who—the sly fox—tried to console him, telling him that Mr. Fogg would get off with taking the next steamer. Which put Passepartout into a livid rage.
But if Passepartout did not venture to question the pilot, Mr. Fogg, after consulting his Bradshaw, asked the said pilot in his quiet manner whether he knew when a boat would leave Hong Kong for Yokohama.
"Tomorrow, on the morning tide, replied the pilot.
—Ah!" said Mr. Fogg, without showing any astonishment.
Passepartout, who was present, would gladly have embraced the pilot, whose neck Fix would have liked to wring.
"What is the name of this steamer? asked Mr. Fogg.
—The Carnatic, replied the pilot.
—Wasn't it yesterday that she was to leave?
—Yes, sir, but one of her boilers had to be repaired, and her departure was put off to tomorrow.
—I thank you," replied Mr. Fogg, who with his automatic step went back down into the Rangoon's saloon.
As for Passepartout, he seized the pilot's hand and gripped it vigorously, saying:
"You, pilot, you're a fine fellow!"
The pilot never knew, no doubt, why his answers earned him this friendly outpouring. At a whistle blast, he went back up on the bridge and steered the steamer through that flotilla of junks, tankas, fishing boats, and vessels of every kind, that crowded the narrows of Hong Kong.
At one o'clock, the Rangoon lay alongside the quay, and the passengers began going ashore.
On this occasion, chance had served Phileas Fogg remarkably, it must be granted. Without this need to repair her boilers, the Carnatic would have sailed on the 5th of November, and the travelers for Japan would have had to wait eight days for the departure of the next steamer. Mr. Fogg, it is true, was twenty-four hours behind, but this delay could have no unfortunate consequences for the rest of the voyage.
In fact, the steamer that makes the Pacific crossing from Yokohama to San Francisco was in direct connection with the Hong Kong steamer, and could not leave before the latter had arrived. Obviously there would be twenty-four hours' delay at Yokohama, but, during the twenty-two days that the Pacific crossing lasts, it would be easy to make them up. Phileas Fogg found himself, then, within twenty-four hours, within the conditions of his program, thirty-five days after leaving London.
The Carnatic not being due to leave until five o'clock the next morning, Mr. Fogg was left sixteen hours to attend to his affairs—that is, to those concerning Mrs. Aouda. On leaving the boat, he offered his arm to the young woman and led her toward a palanquin. He asked the bearers to point him to a hotel, and they named the Club Hotel. The palanquin set off, followed by Passepartout, and twenty minutes later it reached its destination.
A suite was engaged for the young woman, and Phileas Fogg saw to it that she lacked for nothing. Then he told Mrs. Aouda that he was going to set out at once in search of this relative in whose care he was to leave her at Hong Kong. At the same time he gave Passepartout the order to stay at the hotel until his return, so that the young woman should not be left there alone.
The gentleman had himself driven to the Exchange. There, they would surely know a figure such as the honorable Jejeeh, who ranked among the richest merchants of the city.
The broker whom Mr. Fogg addressed did indeed know the Parsi merchant. But for two years now, the man had no longer lived in China. His fortune made, he had settled in Europe—in Holland, it was thought—which was explained by the many dealings he had had with that country during his business life.
Phileas Fogg returned to the Club Hotel. At once he had Mrs. Aouda asked for permission to present himself before her, and, without further preamble, informed her that the honorable Jejeeh no longer resided at Hong Kong, and that he probably lived in Holland.
To this, Mrs. Aouda at first made no reply. She passed her hand over her brow and remained a few moments in thought. Then, in her soft voice:
"What am I to do, Mr. Fogg? she said.
—It is very simple, replied the gentleman. Return to Europe.
—But I cannot impose...
—You are not imposing, and your presence hampers my program in no way... Passepartout?
—Sir? replied Passepartout.
—Go to the Carnatic, and book three cabins."
Passepartout, delighted to continue his journey in the company of the young woman, who was most gracious to him, left the Club Hotel at once.