Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where they found Fix already installed. Below deck was a square cabin, of which the walls bulged out in the form of cots, above a circular divan; in the center was a table provided with a swinging lamp. The accommodation was confined, but neat. "I am sorry to have nothing better to offer you," said Mr. Fogg to Fix, who bowed without responding. The detective had a feeling akin to humiliation in profiting by the kindness of Mr. Fogg. "It's certain," thought he, "though rascal he is, he is a polite one!" The sails and the English flag were hoisted at ten minutes past three. Mr. Fogg and Aouda, who were seated on deck, cast a last glance at the quay, in the hope of seeing Passepartout. Fix was not without his fears lest chance should direct the steps of the unfortunate servant, whom he had so badly treated, in this direction. In that case an explanation the reverse of satisfactory to the detective would have been necessary. But the Frenchman did not appear, and, without doubt, was still lying under the stupefying influence of the opium. At length John Bunsby, master, gave the order to start, and the Tankadere, taking the wind under her brigantine, foresail and standing-jib, bounded briskly forward over the waves. Chapter 21 In Which the Master of the Tankadere Runs Great Risk of Losing a Reward of Two Hundred Pounds This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture on a craft of twenty tons, and at that season of the year. The Chinese seas are usually boisterous, subject to terrible gales of wind, especially during the equinoxes, and it was now early November. It would clearly have been to the master's advantage to carry his passengers to Yokohama, since he was paid a certain sum per day. But he would have been rash to attempt such a voyage, and it was imprudent even to attempt to reach Shanghai. But John Bunsby believed in the Tankadere, which rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps he was not wrong. Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels of Hong Kong, and the Tankadere, impelled by favorable winds, conducted herself admirably. "I do not need, pilot," said Phileas Fogg, when they got into the open sea, "to advise you to use all possible speed." "Trust me, your honor. We are carrying all the sail the wind will let us. The poles would add nothing, and are only used when we are going into port." "It's your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you." Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wide apart, standing like a sailor, gazed without staggering at the swelling waters. The young woman, who was seated aft, was profoundly affected as she looked out upon the ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she had ventured in so frail a vessel. Above her head rustled the white sails, which seemed like great white wings. The boat, carried forward by the wind, seemed to be flying in the air.