Passe-partout wished to speak, but could not He left his master's bedroom, and went upstairs to his own, fell into a chair, and exclaimed: "Well, this is coming it pretty strong, and for me too, who wanted to be quiet!" Mechanically he set about making preparations for departure. Around the world in eighty days! Had he engaged himself with a maniac? No--it was only a joke. But they were going to Dover and to Calais. So far so good. After all, he did not object to that very much, for it was five years since he had seen his native land. Perhaps they would even go on to Paris, and he would be delighted to see the capital again. No doubt a gentleman so economical of his steps would stop there; but on the other hand, this hitherto very domestic gentleman was leaving home. That was a fact. At eight o'clock Passe-partout had packed the small bag which now contained his master's luggage and his own, and in a very troubled frame of mind he quitted his room, closed the door carefully, and went downstairs to Mr. Fogg. That gentleman was quite ready. Under his arm he carried a copy of "Bradshaw's Continental Guide." He took the small bag from Passe-partout, opened it, and placed therein a bulky roll of bank-notes, which will pass in any country. "You are sure you have not forgotten anything?" he asked. "Quite sure, sir." "You have my mackintosh and travelling-cloak?" "Here they are, sir." "All right, take the bag;" and Mr. Fogg handed it back to the man. "You had better take care of it," he added, "there are twenty thousand pounds in it." Passe-partout nearly let the bag fall, as if it were weighted with the twenty thousand pounds in gold. Master and man went downstairs together; the door was shut and double-locked. Phileas called a cab from the bottom of Saville Row, and drove to Charing Cross Station. It was twenty minutes past eight when they reached the railway. Passe-partout jumped out. His master followed, and paid the cabman. At this moment a poor beggar-woman, carrying a baby, looking very miserable with her naked feet and tattered appearance, approached Mr. Fogg, and asked for alms. Mr. Fogg drew from his waistcoat-pocket the twenty guineas he had won at whist, and handing them to the beggar-woman, said: "Take these, my good woman. I am glad I have met you." He then entered the station. This action of his master brought the tears into Passe-partout's susceptible eyes. Mr. Fogg had risen in his estimation. That eccentric individual now told him to take two first-class tickets for Paris, and as he turned round he perceived his five friends from the Reform Club. "Well, gentlemen, you see I am about to start, and the visas on my passport on my return will convince you that I have performed the journey." "Oh, Mr. Fogg," replied Gauthier Ralph politely, "that is quite unnecessary. We believe you to be a man of your word." "All the better," was Fogg's reply. "You won't forget when you have to come back," observed Stuart.