"Good!" said Fix. "If the robber is on board he will no doubt get off at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies in Asia by some other route. He ought to know that he would not be safe an hour in India, which is English soil." "Unless," objected the consul, "he is exceptionally shrewd. An English criminal, you know, is always better concealed in London than anywhere else." This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and meanwhile the consul went away to his office. Fix, left alone, was more impatient than ever, having a presentiment that the robber was on board the Mongolia. If he had indeed left London intending to reach the New World, he would naturally take the route via India, which was less watched and more difficult to watch than that of the Atlantic. But Fix's reflections were soon interrupted by a succession of sharp whistles, which announced the arrival of the Mongolia. The porters and fellahs rushed down the quay, and a dozen boats pushed off from the shore to go and meet the steamer. Soon her gigantic hull appeared passing along between the banks, and eleven o'clock struck as she anchored in the road. She brought an unusual number of passengers, some of whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the town, while the greater part disembarked in the boats, and landed on the quay. Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face and figure which made its appearance. Presently one of the passengers, after vigorously pushing his way through the importunate crowd of porters, came up to him and politely asked if he could point out the English consulate, at the same time showing a passport which he wished to have visaed. 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 hank robber which he had received from Scotland Yard. "Is this your passport?" he asked. "No, it's my master's." "And your master is--" "He stayed on board." "But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his identity." "Oh, is that necessary?" "Quite indispensable." "And where is the consulate?" "There, on the corner of the square," said Fix, pointing to a house two hundred steps off. "I'll go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however, to be disturbed." The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer. Chapter 7 Which Once More Demonstrates the Uselessness of Passports as Aids to Detectives The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly made his way to the consul's office, where he was at once admitted to the presence of that official. "Consul," he said, without preamble, "I have strong reasons for believing that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia." And he narrated what had just passed concerning the passport.