Around the World in Eighty Days. Junior Deluxe EditionVerne, Jules
General
Around the World in Eighty Days. Junior Deluxe Edition
Verne, Jules
Adventure stories; Voyages around the world -- Fiction
Night came on. The train passed on at full speed, in the midst of
the roaring of the tigers, bears and wolves which fled before the
locomotive. The marvels of Bengal, Golconda, ruined Gour,
Murshedabad, the ancient capital, Burdwan, Hugly and the French
town of Chandernagor, where Passepartout would have been proud to
see his country's flag flying, were hidden from their view in the
darkness.
Calcutta was reached at seven in the morning, and the packet left
for Hong Kong at noon; so that Phileas Fogg had five hours before
him.
According to his journal, he was due at Calcutta on the 25th of
October, and that was the exact date of his actual arrival. He
was therefore neither behind nor ahead of time. The two days
gained between London and Bombay had been lost, as has been seen,
in the journey across India. But it is not to be supposed that
Phileas Fogg regretted them.
Chapter 15
In Which the Bag of Banknotes Disgorges
Some Thousands of Pounds More
The train entered the station. Passepartout jumped out first,
followed by Mr. Fogg, who assisted his fair companion to descend.
Phileas Fogg intended to proceed at once to the Hong Kong
steamer, in order to get Aouda comfortably settled for the
voyage. He was unwilling to leave her while they were still on
dangerous ground.
Just as he was leaving the station a policeman came up to him,
and said, "Mr. Phileas Fogg?"
"I am he."
"Is this man your servant?" added the policeman, pointing to
Passepartout.
"Yes."
"Be so good, both of you, as to follow me."
Mr. Fogg betrayed no surprise whatever. The policeman was a
representative of the law, and law is sacred to an Englishman.
Passepartout tried to reason about the matter, but the policeman
tapped him with his stick, and Mr. Fogg made him a signal to
obey.
"May this young lady go with us?" he asked. "She may," replied the
policeman.
Mr. Fogg, Aouda and Passepartout were conducted to a palkighari,
a sort of four-wheeled carriage, drawn by two horses. They took
their places and were driven away. No one spoke during the twenty
minutes which elapsed before they reached their destination.
They first passed through the "black town," with its narrow
streets, its miserable, dirty huts and squalid population; then
through the "European town," which presented a relief in its
bright brick mansions, shaded by coconut-trees and bristling with
masts, where, although it was early morning, elegantly dressed
horsemen and handsome equipages were passing back and forth.
The carriage stopped before a modest-looking house, which,
however, did not have the appearance of a private mansion. The
policeman having requested his prisoners--for so, truly, they
might be called--to descend, conducted them into a room with
barred windows, and said: "You will appear before Judge Obadiah
at half-past eight."
He then retired, and closed the door.
"Why, we are prisoners!" exclaimed Passepartout, falling into a
chair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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