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Around the World in Eighty Days
Chapter 34. IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AT LAST REACHES LONDON
Phileas Fogg was in prison, sitting quietly in the Custom House cell.
He had been locked up in the Custom House, and he was to be sent to London the next day.
Passepartout, when he saw his master arrested, would have fallen on Fix if some policemen hadn't held him back.
Aouda was shocked at the sudden event that she couldn't understand.
Passepartout told her how the honest and brave Fogg was arrested as a robber.
The young woman's heart would not accept the charge, and when she saw she could not save her protector, she cried.
As for Fix, he had arrested Mr. Fogg because it was his duty, whether Mr. Fogg was guilty or not.
Then Passepartout thought he was the cause of this new misfortune.
Had he not hidden Fix's errand from his master?
When Fix showed his true plan and aim, why had he not told Mr. Fogg?
If the latter had been warned, he'd no doubt have shown Fix proof of his innocence and proved the mistake.
At least, Fix wouldn't have followed them at his master's cost and heels, only to arrest him the moment he set foot on English soil.
Passepartout cried until he was blind with grief, and felt like killing himself.
Aouda and he had stayed, despite the cold, under the portico of the Custom House.
Neither wanted to leave the place.
Both were anxious to see Mr. Fogg again.
That gentleman was really ruined, and that at the moment when he was about to reach his goal, this arrest was fatal.
He arrived at Liverpool at twenty minutes before twelve on the 21st of December.
He had until a quarter before nine that evening to reach the Reform Club, nine hours and a quarter.
The journey from Liverpool to London took six hours.
If anyone then entered the Custom House, they'd have found Mr. Fogg seated, calm and without anger on a wooden bench.
He wasn't, it's true, resigned, but this last blow failed to make him show any emotion.
Was he being eaten up by one of those secret rages that were worse because they were kept inside?
Did they only burst out with a strong force at the last moment?
No one could tell, there he sat, calmly waiting.
For what? Did he still hold hope?
Did he still believe, now that the door of this prison was closed on him, that he'd succeed?
However that may have been, Mr. Fogg carefully put his watch on the table and watched its moving hands.
Not a word left his lips, but his look was set and stern.
The situation, in any case, was a terrible one, and could be stated like this.
If Phileas Fogg was honest he was ruined.
If he was a knave, he was caught.
Did escape come into his head?
Did he look for any way out of his prison?
Did he think of escaping? Possibly.
For once he walked slowly around the room.
But the door was locked and the window was strongly barred with iron rods.
He sat down again and took his journal from his pocket.
On the line where these words were written, "21st December, Saturday, Liverpool," he added, "80th day, 11.40 a.m." and waited.
The Custom House clock struck one.
Mr. Fogg saw that his watch was two hours too fast.
Two hours. His watch was wrong, and for a moment hope came back.
If he was now taking an express train, he could reach London and the Reform Club by a quarter before nine p.m.
His forehead slightly wrinkled in a small sign of thought.
At thirty-three minutes past two he heard a strange noise outside, then a quick opening of doors.
Passepartout's voice was heard, and immediately after that of Fix.
Phileas Fogg's eyes brightened for a moment.
The door swung open, and he saw Passepartout, Aouda, and Fix hurrying towards him.
Fix was out of breath, and his hair was in disorder, he couldn't speak.
"Sir," he stammered, "sir, forgive me, most unfortunate resemblance, robber arrested three days ago, you're free!"
Phileas Fogg was free, he walked to the detective and looked him steadily in the face.
With the only quick move he had ever made in his life, or ever would make, he drew back his arm.
As if he were a machine, he knocked Fix down.
"Well hit!" cried Passepartout.
"Parbleu, that's what you might call a good use of English fists!"
Fix, who found himself on the floor, didn't say a word.
He had only got his deserts.
Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout left the Custom House without delay, got into a cab, and in a few moments got out at the station.
Phileas Fogg asked if there was an express train about to leave for London.
It was forty minutes past two.
The express train had left thirty-five minutes before.
Phileas Fogg then ordered a special train.
There were several fast locomotives ready, but the railway plans didn't allow the special train to leave until three o'clock.
At that hour Phileas Fogg, after offering the engineer a large reward, set out for London with Aouda and his servant.
They had to make the journey in five hours and a half, and this would have been easy on a clear road all the way.
There were delays, and when Mr. Fogg left the train, all London clocks were striking ten minutes before nine.
Having made the tour of the world, he was five minutes late, he had lost the wager!
A somewhat remarkable eccentricity on the part of the London clocks! - TRANSLATOR.