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Around the World in Eighty Days
Chapter 22. IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT FINDS OUT THAT, EVEN AT THE ANTIPODES, IT IS CONVENIENT TO HAVE SOME MONEY IN ONE'S POCKET
The "Carnatic," setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan.
She carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers.
Two state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied, those which had been engaged by Phileas Fogg.
The next day, a passenger with half-dazed eyes, an unsteady walk, messy hair was seen to come out of the second cabin.
He tottered to a seat on deck.
It was Passepartout, What had happened to him was as follows.
Shortly after Fix left the opium house, two waiters lifted the unconscious Passepartout and carried him to the bed reserved for the smokers.
Three hours later, chased even in his dreams by a fixed idea, the poor fellow woke, and fought against the numbing effect of the drug.
The thought of a duty left undone woke him, and he hurried from the place of drunkenness.
"Staggering, holding himself against the walls, falling and rising, driven by instinct, he kept crying, "The 'Carnatic!' the 'Carnatic!'
The steamer lay puffing beside the quay, ready to start.
Passepartout had only a few steps to go.
Rushing on to the plank, he crossed it, and fell unconscious on the deck, just as the "Carnatic" was moving off.
Several sailors, used to this sort of thing, carried the poor Frenchman down into the second cabin.
Passepartout did not wake until they were one hundred and fifty miles from China.
Thus he found himself the next morning on the deck of the "Carnatic," and eagerly breathing the fresh sea air.
The pure sea air made him sober and slowly brought his senses back.
He began to get his senses back, which was hard, but he remembered night's events, Fix's story, and the opium-house.
"It's clear," said he to himself.
"That I have been terribly drunk! What will Mr. Fogg say? At least I didn't miss the steamer, which is the most important thing."
Then, as Fix came into his mind,
"As for that rascal, I hope we're rid of him, and that he hasn't dared, as he said, to follow us on board the 'Carnatic.'."
"A detective is on Mr. Fogg's track, accused of robbing the Bank of England!"
"Pshaw, Mr. Fogg is no more a robber than I'm a murderer."
Should he tell Fix's real purpose to his master?
Would it do to tell the part the detective was playing?
Wouldn't it be better to wait until Mr. Fogg reached London again?
Then tell him that an agent of the London police had been following him around the world and have a good laugh over it.
No doubt, at least, it was worth thinking about.
The first thing to do was to find Mr. Fogg, and say sorry for his strange behaviour.
Passepartout got up and went, as well as he could with the rolling of the steamer, to the after-deck.
He saw no one who looked like either his master or Aouda.
"Good!" muttered he, "Aouda hasn't got up yet, and Mr. Fogg has probably found some partners at whist."
He went down to the saloon.
Mr. Fogg wasn't there, Passepartout had only, however, to ask the purser the number of his master's state-room.
The purser answered that he didn't know any passenger by the name of Fogg.
"I beg your pardon," said Passepartout again.
"He's a tall gentleman, quiet, and not very talkative, and has with him a young lady, "
"There's no young lady on board," said the purser.
"Here's a list of the passengers, you may see for yourself."
Passepartout looked at the list, but his master's name wasn't on it.
All at once an idea hit him.
"Ah! am I on the 'Carnatic?'"
"Yes."
"On the way to Yokohama?"
"Certainly."
Passepartout had for a moment feared that he was on the wrong boat.
But, though he was really on the "Carnatic," his master wasn't there.
He fell as if struck on a seat, he saw it all now.
He remembered that the time of sailing had been changed, that he should have told his master that fact, and that he hadn't done so.
It was his fault, then, that Mr. Fogg and Aouda had missed the steamer.
Yes, but the fault was even more the traitor who had tricked him into getting drunk to separate him from his master.
The traitor wanted to keep the master at Hong Kong.
He now saw the detective's trick, and at that moment Mr. Fogg was certainly ruined, his bet was lost.
And he himself perhaps arrested and thrown into prison!
At this thought Passepartout tore his hair.
Ah, if Fix ever came within his reach, what a settling of accounts there would be!
After his first despair, Passepartout grew calmer, and began to think about his situation.
It was certainly not a good one.
He found himself on the way to Japan, and what would he do when he got there?
His pocket was empty, he hadn't a single shilling, not so much as a penny.
His passage had luckily been paid for in advance, and he had five or six days to decide his next steps.
He ate at meals with an appetite, and ate for Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and himself.
He helped himself as freely as if Japan were a desert where nothing to eat could be found.
At dawn on the 13th the "Carnatic" entered the port of Yokohama.
This is an important Pacific port where steamers and ships carrying travellers between North America, China, Japan, and the Eastern islands stop.
It's in the bay of Yeddo, not far from that second capital of the Japanese Empire.
It's the home of the Tycoon, the civil Emperor, before the Mikado, the spiritual Emperor, took his office.
The "Carnatic" anchored at the quay near the custom-house, among a crowd of ships flying the flags of all nations.
Passepartout went ashore on this strange land of the Sons of the Sun.
He had nothing better to do than, taking chance as his guide, to walk without plan through the streets of Yokohama.
He first found himself in a very European quarter, the houses having low fronts, and being set with verandas, under which he saw neat porches.
This quarter covered, with its streets, squares, docks, and warehouses, all the space between the "promontory of the Treaty" and the river.
Here, as at Hong Kong and Calcutta, mixed crowds of many races, Americans, English, Chinamen, Dutchmen, merchants ready to buy or sell.
The Frenchman felt as alone among them as if he had dropped into the middle of Hottentots.
He had, at least, one hope, to call on the French and English consuls at Yokohama for help.
But he didn't want to tell the story of his adventures, because it was closely linked with that of his master.
Before doing so, he decided to try every other way to get help.
When luck did not help him in the European quarter, he went into the native Japanese quarter, planning to go to Yeddo.
The Japanese quarter of Yokohama is called Benten, after the sea goddess worshipped on the islands round about.
There Passepartout saw fir and cedar woods, strange sacred gates, bridges among bamboos and reeds, and temples shaded by cedar trees.
He saw holy places where Buddhist priests and followers of Confucius lived.
He saw long streets where many rose-tinted, red-cheeked children, like pictures on Japanese screens, played with short-legged poodles and yellowish cats.
The streets were full of people.
Priests were passing in processions, beating their dull tambourines.
Police and custom-house officers with pointed hats covered in black lacquer and carrying two sabres at their waists.
Soldiers, dressed in blue cotton with white stripes, and carrying guns.
The Mikado's guards, wrapped in silk coats, hauberks and coats of mail.
Many military people of all ranks, for the military job is as much respected in Japan as it's looked down on in China, moved here.
There in groups and pairs, Passepartout saw, too, begging friars, long-robed pilgrims, and simple people.
They had dark, shiny hair, large heads, long torsos, thin legs, and short height, and their skins ranged from copper colour to pale white.
They were never yellow like the Chinese, from whom the Japanese differ a lot.
He didn't fail to notice the odd vehicles, carriages and palanquins, barrows fitted with sails, and litters made of bamboo.
He saw the women, whom he did not find pretty, with small steps and feet, wearing canvas shoes, straw sandals, carved clogs.
They had narrow-looking eyes, flat chests, and teeth blackened by fashion.
Their gowns were crossed with silk sashes tied in a knot behind an ornament Parisian ladies seem to have borrowed from Japan.
Passepartout walked for several hours among this mixed crowd, looking in at the windows of the rich and curious shops.
He saw jewellery stores shining with odd Japanese ornaments and restaurants decorated with streamers and flags.
He looked into tea-houses, where the fragrant drink was being taken with "saki," a drink made from fermented rice.
He also peered into comfortable smoking-houses, where they were puffing not opium, which is almost unknown in Japan, but a very fine, stringy tobacco.
He went on until he found himself in the fields, among wide rice plantations.
There he saw bright camellias opening, flowers giving their last colours and smells, not on bushes but on trees and inside bamboo fences.
He saw cherry, plum, and apple trees, which the Japanese grow more for their blossoms than for their fruit.
Odd-looking, grinning scarecrows kept them safe from sparrows, pigeons, ravens, and other greedy birds.
On the branches of the cedars were large eagles.
In the leaves of the weeping willows were herons, standing on one leg.
Crows, ducks, hawks, and many cranes filled the area, the Japanese think cranes sacred, a sign of long life and good luck.
As he was walking, Passepartout saw some violets among the shrubs.
"Good!" said he, "I'll have some supper."
But, on smelling them, he found that they had no smell.
"No chance there," thought he.
The worthy man had certainly taken good care to eat a full breakfast before leaving the "Carnatic,"
But, as he had been walking all day, hunger was becoming strong.
He saw that the butcher stalls had neither mutton, goat, nor pork.
Knowing it was a sin to kill cattle kept for farming, he decided meat was rare in Yokohama, and he was right.
Instead of butcher's meat, he'd have liked wild boar, deer, partridge, quails, or other game.
The Japanese eat such meat or fish with rice most of the time.
But he had to keep up his courage, and to wait for the meal he wanted until the next morning.
Night came, and Passepartout went back into the native quarter, where he walked through the streets lit by many-coloured lanterns.
He watched the dancers making skilled steps and jumps and the astrologers who stood in the open air with their telescopes.
Then he came to the harbour, which was lit by the resin torches of the fishermen, who were fishing from their boats.
The streets at last became quiet.
The patrol, officers in fine clothes and followed by groups, replaced the busy crowd, and Passepartout thought they looked like ambassadors.
Each time a company passed, Passepartout laughed, and said to himself, "Good! another Japanese embassy leaving for Europe!"