Mr. Fogg preserved his usual impassibility under the trying circumstances; he was ruined, and all through the fault of that blundering detective. After having achieved his long journey, overcome a thousand obstacles, braved a thousand dangers, and even found time to do some good on the way, to fail at the very moment that success was certain was indeed terrible. A very small portion remained to him of the large sum he had taken away with him; his whole fortune was comprised in the twenty thousand pounds deposited at Baring's, and that sum he owed to his colleagues at the club. After having paid all expenses, even had he won he would have been none the richer, and it is not likely he wished to be richer, for he was one of those men who bet for reputation; but this wager would ruin his altogether. However, he had fully made up his mind what to do. A room had been set aside for Aouda, who felt Mr. Fogg's ruin very deeply. From certain words she had heard she understood he was meditating some serious measures. Knowing that Englishmen of an eccentric turn of mind sometimes commit suicide, Passe-partout kept watch on his master unobserved; but the first thing the lad did was to extinguish the gas in his room, which had been burning for eighty days. In the letter-box he had found the gas company's bill, and thought it was quite time to put a stop to such an expense. The night passed. Mr. Fogg went to bed, but it is doubtful whether he slept. Aouda was quite unable to rest, and Passe-partout kept watch like a dog at his master's door. Next day, Mr. Fogg told him, shortly, to attend to Mrs. Aouda's breakfast, while he would have a cup of tea and a chop. He excused himself from joining Aouda at meals on the plea of putting his affairs in order, and it was not till evening that he asked for an interview with the young lady. Passe-partout having received his orders had only to obey them, but he found it impossible to leave his master's room. His heart was full, his conscience was troubled with remorse, for he could not help blaming himself for the disaster. If he had only warned his master about Fix, Mr. Fogg would not have brought the detective to Liverpool, and then-- Passe-partout could hold out no longer. "Oh, Mr. Fogg!" he exclaimed, "do you not curse me? It is all my fault--" "I blame no one," replied Phileas Fogg, in his usual calm tone. "Go!" Passe-partout quitted the room and sought Mrs. Aouda, to whom he delivered his message. "Madam," he added, "I am powerless. I have no influence over my master's mind; perhaps you may have." "What influence can I have?" she replied; "Mr. Fogg will submit to no one. Has he really ever understood how grateful I am to him? Has he ever read my heart? He must not be left alone an instant. You say he is going to see me this evening?" "Yes, madam. No doubt to make arrangements for your sojourn in England." "Let us wait, then," replied the young lady, becoming suddenly thoughtful.