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Around the World in Eighty Days
Chapter 19. IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT TAKES A TOO GREAT INTEREST IN HIS MASTER, AND WHAT COMES OF IT
Hong Kong is an island which came into the possession of the English by the Treaty of Nankin, after the war of 1842.
The English have made on it an important city and a fine port.
The island is at the mouth of the Canton River.
It's about sixty miles from the Portuguese town of Macao on the other coast.
Hong Kong has won the trade with China from Macao, and now most shiploads of Chinese goods arrive there.
Docks, hospitals, wharves, a big church, government house, and paved streets make Hong Kong look like a town in Kent or Surrey.
It is as if that town had been moved by a strange magic to the far side of the world.
Passepartout walked with his hands in his pockets toward Victoria port.
He looked at the curious palanquins and other ways of moving people, and at the groups of Chinese, Japanese, and Europeans in the streets.
Hong Kong seemed to him like Bombay, Calcutta, and Singapore, for it showed the signs of English rule everywhere.
At Victoria port he found a confused mass of ships of all nations.
There were English, French, American, and Dutch ships, men-of-war and trading vessels, Japanese and Chinese junks, sempas, tankas, and flower-boats.
They made so many floating flowerbeds.
Passepartout saw in the crowd some very old natives dressed in yellow.
At a barber's he learned those old men were about eighty and at that age they could wear yellow, Imperial colour.
Passepartout, without exactly knowing why, found this very funny.
When he reached the quay where they were to get on the Carnatic, he wasn't surprised to see Fix walking up and down.
The detective looked very upset and disappointed.
This is bad, muttered Passepartout, for the gentlemen of the Reform Club.
He spoke to Fix with a happy smile, as if he hadn't seen the man's anger.
Fix had, in truth, many reasons to complain about the bad luck that followed him.
The warrant hadn't come, it was certainly on the way, but it couldn't reach Hong Kong for several days.
And, as this was the last English place on Mr. Fogg's route, the robber would escape unless Fix could keep him here.
Well, Monsieur Fix, said Passepartout, have you decided to go with us so far as America?
Yes, returned Fix through his set teeth.
Good, exclaimed Passepartout, laughing heartily, I knew you couldn't make yourself leave us, Come and buy your berth.
They went into the steamer office and got cabins for four people.
The clerk, as he gave them the tickets, told them that the repairs on the Carnatic were finished.
The steamer would leave that very evening, and not the next morning as had been said.
That'll suit my master all the better, said Passepartout, I'll go and tell him.
Fix now decided to make a bold move.
He resolved to tell Passepartout everything.
It seemed the only way to keep Phileas Fogg several days longer at Hong Kong.
He invited his companion into a tavern on the quay.
Inside they found a large room decorated with care, and at the end was a large camp-bed with cushions.
Several people lay on this bed in a deep sleep.
At the small tables some thirty customers were drinking English beer, porter, gin, and brandy.
They were smoking long red clay pipes filled with little balls of opium mixed with rose oil.
From time to time one of the smokers, overcome by the drug, would slip under the table.
The waiters would take him by the head and feet and carry him to the bed.
The bed already held twenty of these drugged men.
Fix and Passepartout saw they were in a smoking-house full of thin, stupid people who English merchants sell opium to every year.
They sell it to the amount of one million four hundred thousand pounds.
The Chinese government has tried to stop the evil with strict laws.
At first it was for the rich only, then it went down to the poor, and then it couldn't be stopped.
Opium is smoked everywhere and at all times by men and women in the Celestial Empire.
Once they're used to it, the victims can't do without it without suffering bad body pains and great agony.
A great smoker can smoke eight pipes a day.
But he dies in five years.
It was in one of these dens that Fix and Passepartout, looking for a friendly glass, found themselves.
Passepartout had no money, but he gladly accepted Fix's invitation hoping to repay him later.
They ordered two bottles of port, which the Frenchman drank with pleasure, while Fix watched him closely.
They talked about the journey, and Passepartout was very merry at the idea that Fix would go on with them.
When the bottles were empty, however, Passepartout stood up to tell his master about the change in the Carnatic's time.
Fix caught him by the arm and said, Wait a moment.
What for, Mr. Fix? Why do you want me to wait here a little?
I want to have a serious talk with you.
A serious talk, cried Passepartout, drinking the little wine left in his glass.
Well, we'll talk about it tomorrow, I don't have time now.
Stay, said Fix, What I have to say concerns your master.
Passepartout looked closely at him, Fix's face had a strange look, he sat down again.
What's it that you have to say?
Fix put his hand on Passepartout's arm and, lowering his voice, said, You have guessed who I'm?
Parbleu, said Passepartout, smiling, his eyes bright and his face full of joy.
Then I'm going to tell you everything.
Now that I know everything, my friend, said Passepartout.
Ah, that's very good, but go on, go on.
First, though, let me tell you those gentlemen have spent their money for no use.
No use, said Fix, You speak with confidence.
It's clear you don't know how large the sum is.
Of course I do, returned Passepartout, Twenty thousand pounds.
Fifty-five thousand, answered Fix, pressing his companion's hand.
What, cried the Frenchman, Has Monsieur Fogg dared fifty-five thousand pounds.
Well, there's all the more reason not to lose time, he continued, getting up quickly.
Fix pushed Passepartout back into his chair and went on.
Fifty-five thousand pounds, and if I succeed, I get two thousand pounds.
If you help me, I'll give you five hundred of them.
Help you, cried Passepartout, whose eyes were wide open.
Yes, help me keep Mr. Fogg here for two or three days.
Why, what are you saying? No, that cannot be true about my master.
Those gentlemen aren't satisfied with following my master and doubting his honour, but they must try to put obstacles in his way.
I'm ashamed for them, he cried.
What do you mean? asked Fix.
I mean that it's a shameful trick.
They might as well waylay Mr. Fogg and put his money in their pockets.
That's just what we plan to do.
It's a conspiracy then, cried Passepartout, who grew more excited as the drink went to his head, for he drank without knowing it.
A real conspiracy, and gentlemen, too, Bah.
Fix began to feel puzzled by Passepartout's words and the change in plan.
Members of the Reform Club, continued Passepartout.
You must know, Monsieur Fix, that my master is an honest man, and that when he makes a bet he tries to win it fairly.
But who do you think I'm, asked Fix, looking at him closely.
Parbleu, said Passepartout, an agent of the members of the Reform Club sent here to stop my master's journey.
But though I found you out some time ago, I kept quiet and said nothing to Mr. Fogg.
He knows nothing, then? He really does not know anything at all?
Nothing, replied Passepartout, again emptying his glass.
The detective passed his hand over his forehead and hesitated before he spoke.
What should he do? Passepartout's mistake seemed sincere, but it made Fix's plan harder.
It was clear the servant wasn't the master's partner, as Fix had thought.
Well, said the detective to himself, as he isn't an accomplice, he'll help me.
He had no time to lose.
Fogg must be kept at Hong Kong, so Fix decided to tell the truth.
Listen to me, said Fix suddenly.
I'm not, as you think, an agent of the members of the Reform Club.
Bah, replied Passepartout with a mocking air.
I'm a police detective sent here by the London office.
You are a detective sent by London? You mean you are really a police man?
I'll prove it, Here's my commission.
Passepartout was speechless with surprise when Fix showed this paper, its truth couldn't be doubted.
Mr. Fogg's wager, went on Fix, is only an excuse, of which you and the gentlemen of the Reform are the fools.
He had a reason for making you his innocent partner.
But why? Please tell me the reason, what are you trying to do?
Listen, my friend, I have something very important to tell you right now.
On 28 September a robbery of fifty-five thousand pounds was done at the Bank of England and a man's description was saved.
Here's his description, it fits exactly Mr. Phileas Fogg.
What nonsense, cried Passepartout, hitting the table with his fist.
My master is the most honest of men.
How can you tell? You know almost nothing about him.
You went into his service the day he left.
He left on a strange idea, without trunks and carrying a large amount in banknotes.
And yet you're bold enough to say he's honest.
Yes, yes, repeated the poor man without thinking.
Would you like to be arrested as his partner?
Passepartout, crushed by what he had heard, held his head between his hands and didn't dare to look at the detective.
Phileas Fogg, the saviour of Aouda, that brave and kind man, a robber.
And yet there were so many reasons to suspect him.
Passepartout tried to reject the thoughts that came into his mind.
He didn't want to believe his master was guilty.
Well, what do you want from me, he said at last with effort.
See here, replied Fix, and he looked at Passepartout slowly and seriously.
I have followed Mr. Fogg to this place, but I haven't yet received the arrest warrant I sent for in London.
You must help me keep him here in Hong Kong.
I, but I, I'll share with you the two thousand pounds reward offered by the Bank of England.
Never, replied Passepartout, who tried to stand but fell back, tired in mind and body.
Mr. Fix, he stammered, if what you say is true, and if my master is the robber you want, I deny it.
I have been and am in his service.
I have seen his generosity and goodness, and I'll never betray him for all the gold in the world.
I come from a village where they don't eat that kind of bread.
You refuse to help me, then? You really will not help your master?
I refuse. I will not leave my master or take money for this.
Consider that I have said nothing, said Fix, and let us drink.
Yes, let us drink, and forget everything for a little while.
Passepartout felt himself fall more and more under the drink.
Fix, seeing that he must, at all costs, separate the servant from his master, wished to make him lose all control.
Some pipes full of opium were on the table.
Fix slipped one into Passepartout's hand.
He took it, put it to his lips, lit it, drew several puffs, and his head, grown heavy by the drug, fell on the table.
At last, said Fix, seeing Passepartout unconscious.
Mr. Fogg won't be told of the Carnatic's leave.
And if he's told, he'll have to go without this cursed Frenchman.
After paying the bill, Fix left the tavern.