"Where is the office?" "In the corner of the square yonder," replied the detective, indicating a house about two hundred paces off. "Well then, I will go and fetch my master; but I can tell you he won't thank you for disturbing him." So saying, the passenger saluted Fix, and returned on board the steamer. CHAPTER VII. Which once more shows the Futility of Passports where Policemen are concerned. The detective quickly traversed the quay once more in the direction of the Consul's office. At his particular request he was at once ushered into the presence of the official. "I beg your pardon," he said to the Consul abruptly, "but I have great reason to believe that my man _is_ really on board the _Mongolia_." And then Mr. Fix related what had passed between him and the servant. "Good," replied the Consul; "I should not be sorry to see the rascal's face myself; but perhaps he will not present himself here if the case stands as you believe it does. No thief likes to leave a trace behind him; and moreover, the _visa_ to the passport is not necessary." "If he is the sharp fellow he ought to be, he will come," replied Mr. Fix. "To have his passport examined?" "Yes. Passports are no use, except to worry honest people and to facilitate the escape of rogues. I have no doubt whatever that this fellow's passport will be all right; but I hope you will not _visé_ it all the same." "Why not? If the passport is all regular I have no right to refuse my _visa_," replied the Consul. "Nevertheless, I must keep the fellow here until I have received the warrant of arrest from London." "Ah, Mr. Fix, that is _your_ business," said the Consul; "for my part I must--" The Consul did not conclude the sentence. At that moment a knock was heard, and the servant introduced two strangers, one of whom was the servant who had lately interviewed the detective on the quay. The newcomers were master and servant. The former handed his passport to the Consul, and laconically requested him to attach his _visa_. The Consul took the passport and examined it narrowly, while Fix from a corner devoured the stranger with his eyes. When the Consul had perused the document, he said: "You are Phileas Fogg?" "Yes," replied that gentleman. "And this man is your servant?" "Yes; he is a Frenchman named Passe-partout." "You have come from London?" "Yes." "And you are bound--whither?" "To Bombay." "Very well, sir. You are aware, perhaps, that this formality is unnecessary, even useless. We only require to see the passport." "I know that," replied Fogg; "but I want you to testify to my presence at Suez." "Very well, sir, so be it," replied the Consul, who thereupon attested the passport. Mr. Fogg paid the fee, and bowing formally, departed, followed by his servant. "Well, what do you think, sir?" said the detective. "I think he looks a perfectly honest man," replied the Consul.