by Jules Verne
Chapter XXXIII
IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG SHOWS HIMSELF EQUAL TO THE OCCASION
An hour after, the Henrietta passed the lighthouse which marks theentrance of the Hudson, turned the point of Sandy Hook, and put to sea.During the day she skirted Long Island, passed Fire Island, anddirected her course rapidly eastward.
At noon the next day, a man mounted the bridge to ascertain thevessel's position. It might be thought that this was Captain Speedy.Not the least in the world. It was Phileas Fogg, Esquire. As forCaptain Speedy, he was shut up in his cabin under lock and key, and wasuttering loud cries, which signified an anger at once pardonable andexcessive.
What had happened was very simple. Phileas Fogg wished to go toLiverpool, but the captain would not carry him there. Then PhileasFogg had taken passage for Bordeaux, and, during the thirty hours hehad been on board, had so shrewdly managed with his banknotes that thesailors and stokers, who were only an occasional crew, and were not onthe best terms with the captain, went over to him in a body. This waswhy Phileas Fogg was in command instead of Captain Speedy; why thecaptain was a prisoner in his cabin; and why, in short, the Henriettawas directing her course towards Liverpool. It was very clear, to seeMr. Fogg manage the craft, that he had been a sailor.
How the adventure ended will be seen anon. Aouda was anxious, thoughshe said nothing. As for Passepartout, he thought Mr. Fogg's manoeuvresimply glorious. The captain had said "between eleven and twelveknots," and the Henrietta confirmed his prediction.
If, then--for there were "ifs" still--the sea did not become tooboisterous, if the wind did not veer round to the east, if no accidenthappened to the boat or its machinery, the Henrietta might cross thethree thousand miles from New York to Liverpool in the nine days,between the 12th and the 21st of December. It is true that, oncearrived, the affair on board the Henrietta, added to that of the Bankof England, might create more difficulties for Mr. Fogg than heimagined or could desire.
During the first days, they went along smoothly enough. The sea wasnot very unpropitious, the wind seemed stationary in the north-east,the sails were hoisted, and the Henrietta ploughed across the waveslike a real trans-Atlantic steamer.
Passepartout was delighted. His master's last exploit, theconsequences of which he ignored, enchanted him. Never had the crewseen so jolly and dexterous a fellow. He formed warm friendships withthe sailors, and amazed them with his acrobatic feats. He thought theymanaged the vessel like gentlemen, and that the stokers fired up likeheroes. His loquacious good-humour infected everyone. He hadforgotten the past, its vexations and delays. He only thought of theend, so nearly accomplished; and sometimes he boiled over withimpatience, as if heated by the furnaces of the Henrietta. Often,also, the worthy fellow revolved around Fix, looking at him with akeen, distrustful eye; but he did not speak to him, for their oldintimacy no longer existed.
Fix, it must be confessed, understood nothing of what was going on.The conquest of the Henrietta, the bribery of the crew, Fogg managingthe boat like a skilled seaman, amazed and confused him. He did notknow what to think. For, after all, a man who began by stealingfifty-five thousand pounds might end by stealing a vessel; and Fix wasnot unnaturally inclined to conclude that the Henrietta under Fogg'scommand, was not going to Liverpool at all, but to some part of theworld where the robber, turned into a pirate, would quietly put himselfin safety. The conjecture was at least a plausible one, and thedetective began to seriously regret that he had embarked on the affair.
As for Captain Speedy, he continued to howl and growl in his cabin; andPassepartout, whose duty it was to carry him his meals, courageous ashe was, took the greatest precautions. Mr. Fogg did not seem even toknow that there was a captain on board.
On the 13th they passed the edge of the Banks of Newfoundland, adangerous locality; during the winter, especially, there are frequentfogs and heavy gales of wind. Ever since the evening before thebarometer, suddenly falling, had indicated an approaching change in theatmosphere; and during the night the temperature varied, the coldbecame sharper, and the wind veered to the south-east.
This was a misfortune. Mr. Fogg, in order not to deviate from hiscourse, furled his sails and increased the force of the steam; but thevessel's speed slackened, owing to the state of the sea, the long wavesof which broke against the stern. She pitched violently, and thisretarded her progress. The breeze little by little swelled into atempest, and it was to be feared that the Henrietta might not be ableto maintain herself upright on the waves.
Passepartout's visage darkened with the skies, and for two days thepoor fellow experienced constant fright. But Phileas Fogg was a boldmariner, and knew how to maintain headway against the sea; and he kepton his course, without even decreasing his steam. The Henrietta, whenshe could not rise upon the waves, crossed them, swamping her deck, butpassing safely. Sometimes the screw rose out of the water, beating itsprotruding end, when a mountain of water raised the stern above thewaves; but the craft always kept straight ahead.
The wind, however, did not grow as boisterous as might have beenfeared; it was not one of those tempests which burst, and rush on witha speed of ninety miles an hour. It continued fresh, but, unhappily,it remained obstinately in the south-east, rendering the sails useless.
The 16th of December was the seventy-fifth day since Phileas Fogg'sdeparture from London, and the Henrietta had not yet been seriouslydelayed. Half of the voyage was almost accomplished, and the worstlocalities had been passed. In summer, success would have beenwell-nigh certain. In winter, they were at the mercy of the badseason. Passepartout said nothing; but he cherished hope in secret,and comforted himself with the reflection that, if the wind failedthem, they might still count on the steam.
On this day the engineer came on deck, went up to Mr. Fogg, and beganto speak earnestly with him. Without knowing why it was apresentiment, perhaps Passepartout became vaguely uneasy. He wouldhave given one of his ears to hear with the other what the engineer wassaying. He finally managed to catch a few words, and was sure he heardhis master say, "You are certain of what you tell me?"
"Certain, sir," replied the engineer. "You must remember that, sincewe started, we have kept up hot fires in all our furnaces, and, thoughwe had coal enough to go on short steam from New York to Bordeaux, wehaven't enough to go with all steam from New York to Liverpool." "Iwill consider," replied Mr. Fogg.
Passepartout understood it all; he was seized with mortal anxiety. Thecoal was giving out! "Ah, if my master can get over that," mutteredhe, "he'll be a famous man!" He could not help imparting to Fix whathe had overheard.
"Then you believe that we really are going to Liverpool?"
"Of course."
"Ass!" replied the detective, shrugging his shoulders and turning onhis heel.
Passepartout was on the point of vigorously resenting the epithet, thereason of which he could not for the life of him comprehend; but hereflected that the unfortunate Fix was probably very much disappointedand humiliated in his self-esteem, after having so awkwardly followed afalse scent around the world, and refrained.
And now what course would Phileas Fogg adopt? It was difficult toimagine. Nevertheless he seemed to have decided upon one, for thatevening he sent for the engineer, and said to him, "Feed all the firesuntil the coal is exhausted."
A few moments after, the funnel of the Henrietta vomited forth torrentsof smoke. The vessel continued to proceed with all steam on; but onthe 18th, the engineer, as he had predicted, announced that the coalwould give out in the course of the day.
"Do not let the fires go down," replied Mr. Fogg. "Keep them up to thelast. Let the valves be filled."
Towards noon Phileas Fogg, having ascertained their position, calledPassepartout, and ordered him to go for Captain Speedy. It was as ifthe honest fellow had been commanded to unchain a tiger. He went tothe poop, saying to himself, "He will be like a madman!"
In a few moments, with cries and oaths, a bomb appeared on thepoop-deck.
The bomb was Captain Speedy. It was clear that he was onthe point of bursting. "Where are we?" were the first words his angerpermitted him to utter. Had the poor man been an apoplectic, he couldnever have recovered from his paroxysm of wrath.
"Where are we?" he repeated, with purple face.
"Seven hundred and seven miles from Liverpool," replied Mr. Fogg, withimperturbable calmness.
"Pirate!" cried Captain Speedy.
"I have sent for you, sir--"
"Pickaroon!"
"--sir," continued Mr. Fogg, "to ask you to sell me your vessel."
"No! By all the devils, no!"
"But I shall be obliged to burn her."
"Burn the Henrietta!"
"Yes; at least the upper part of her. The coal has given out."
"Burn my vessel!" cried Captain Speedy, who could scarcely pronouncethe words. "A vessel worth fifty thousand dollars!"
"Here are sixty thousand," replied Phileas Fogg, handing the captain aroll of bank-bills. This had a prodigious effect on Andrew Speedy. AnAmerican can scarcely remain unmoved at the sight of sixty thousanddollars. The captain forgot in an instant his anger, his imprisonment,and all his grudges against his passenger. The Henrietta was twentyyears old; it was a great bargain. The bomb would not go off afterall. Mr. Fogg had taken away the match.
"And I shall still have the iron hull," said the captain in a softertone.
"The iron hull and the engine. Is it agreed?"
"Agreed."
And Andrew Speedy, seizing the banknotes, counted them and consignedthem to his pocket.
During this colloquy, Passepartout was as white as a sheet, and Fixseemed on the point of having an apoplectic fit. Nearly twentythousand pounds had been expended, and Fogg left the hull and engine tothe captain, that is, near the whole value of the craft! It was true,however, that fifty-five thousand pounds had been stolen from the Bank.
When Andrew Speedy had pocketed the money, Mr. Fogg said to him, "Don'tlet this astonish you, sir. You must know that I shall lose twentythousand pounds, unless I arrive in London by a quarter before nine onthe evening of the 21st of December. I missed the steamer at New York,and as you refused to take me to Liverpool--"
"And I did well!" cried Andrew Speedy; "for I have gained at leastforty thousand dollars by it!" He added, more sedately, "Do you knowone thing, Captain--"
"Fogg."
"Captain Fogg, you've got something of the Yankee about you."
And, having paid his passenger what he considered a high compliment, hewas going away, when Mr. Fogg said, "The vessel now belongs to me?"
"Certainly, from the keel to the truck of the masts--all the wood, thatis."
"Very well. Have the interior seats, bunks, and frames pulled down,and burn them."
It was necessary to have dry wood to keep the steam up to the adequatepressure, and on that day the poop, cabins, bunks, and the spare deckwere sacrificed. On the next day, the 19th of December, the masts,rafts, and spars were burned; the crew worked lustily, keeping up thefires. Passepartout hewed, cut, and sawed away with all his might.There was a perfect rage for demolition.
The railings, fittings, the greater part of the deck, and top sidesdisappeared on the 20th, and the Henrietta was now only a flat hulk.But on this day they sighted the Irish coast and Fastnet Light. By tenin the evening they were passing Queenstown. Phileas Fogg had onlytwenty-four hours more in which to get to London; that length of timewas necessary to reach Liverpool, with all steam on. And the steam wasabout to give out altogether!
"Sir," said Captain Speedy, who was now deeply interested in Mr. Fogg'sproject, "I really commiserate you. Everything is against you. We areonly opposite Queenstown."
"Ah," said Mr. Fogg, "is that place where we see the lights Queenstown?"
"Yes."
"Can we enter the harbour?"
"Not under three hours. Only at high tide."
"Stay," replied Mr. Fogg calmly, without betraying in his features thatby a supreme inspiration he was about to attempt once more to conquerill-fortune.
Queenstown is the Irish port at which the trans-Atlantic steamers stopto put off the mails. These mails are carried to Dublin by expresstrains always held in readiness to start; from Dublin they are sent onto Liverpool by the most rapid boats, and thus gain twelve hours on theAtlantic steamers.
Phileas Fogg counted on gaining twelve hours in the same way. Insteadof arriving at Liverpool the next evening by the Henrietta, he would bethere by noon, and would therefore have time to reach London before aquarter before nine in the evening.
The Henrietta entered Queenstown Harbour at one o'clock in the morning,it then being high tide; and Phileas Fogg, after being grasped heartilyby the hand by Captain Speedy, left that gentleman on the levelled hulkof his craft, which was still worth half what he had sold it for.
The party went on shore at once. Fix was greatly tempted to arrest Mr.Fogg on the spot; but he did not. Why? What struggle was going onwithin him? Had he changed his mind about "his man"? Did heunderstand that he had made a grave mistake? He did not, however,abandon Mr. Fogg. They all got upon the train, which was just ready tostart, at half-past one; at dawn of day they were in Dublin; and theylost no time in embarking on a steamer which, disdaining to rise uponthe waves, invariably cut through them.
Phileas Fogg at last disembarked on the Liverpool quay, at twentyminutes before twelve, 21st December. He was only six hours distantfrom London.
But at this moment Fix came up, put his hand upon Mr. Fogg's shoulder,and, showing his warrant, said, "You are really Phileas Fogg?"
"I am."
"I arrest you in the Queen's name!"