“I have strong reasons for believing that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia.”
“Well, Mr. Fix,” replied the consul, “I want to see the rascal’s face; but perhaps he won’t come here—that is, if he is the person you suppose him to be. A robber doesn’t like to leave traces.”
“If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will come.”
“To have his passport visaed[55]?”
“Yes. And I hope you will not visa the passport.”
“Why not? If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse.”
“Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest him from London.”
“Ah, that’s your business. But I cannot—”
The consul did not finish his sentence, for as he spoke a knock was heard at the door, and two strangers entered, one of whom was the servant whom Fix had met on the quay. The other, who was his master, held out his passport. The consul took the document and carefully read it.
“You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?” said the consul, after reading the passport.
“I am.”
“And this man is your servant?”
“He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout.”
“You are from London?”
“Yes.”
“And you are going—”
“To Bombay.”
“Very good, sir. You know that a visa is useless, and that no passport is required?”
“I know it, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg; “but I wish to prove, by your visa, that I came by Suez.”
“Very well, sir.”
The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he added his official seal. Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee, coldly bowed, and went out, followed by his servant.
“Well?” queried the detective.
“Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man,” replied the consul.
“Possibly; but that is not the question. Do you think, consul, that this phlegmatic gentleman resembles the robber whose description I have received?”
“I concede that; but then, you know, all descriptions—”
“I’ll make certain of it[56],” interrupted Fix. “The servant seems to me less mysterious than the master; besides, he’s a Frenchman, and likes to talk. Excuse me, consul.”
Chapter VIII
Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and looking about on the quay.
“Well, my friend,” said the detective, coming up with him, “is your passport visaed?”
“Ah, it’s you, monsieur!” responded Passepartout. “Thanks, yes, the passport is all right. We travel so fast! So this is Suez?”
“Yes.”
“In Egypt?”
“Certainly, in Egypt.”
“And in Africa?”
“In Africa.”
“In Africa!” repeated Passepartout. “Just think, monsieur, I had no idea that we should go farther than Paris!”
“You are in a great hurry, then?”
“I am not, but my master is. By the way, I must buy some shoes and shirts. We came away only with a carpet-bag.”
“I will show you an excellent shop for getting what you want.”
“Really, monsieur, you are very kind.”
And they walked off together. After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed:
“You left London hastily, then?”
“I rather think so! Last Friday at eight o’clock in the evening, Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour afterwards we were off.”
“But where is your master going?”
“Always straight ahead. He is going round the world.”
“Round the world?” cried Fix.
“Yes, and in eighty days! He says it is on a wager; but, between us, I don’t believe a word of it. That wouldn’t be common sense. There’s something else.”
“Ah! Is Mr. Fogg rich?”
“No doubt, for he is carrying an enormous sum in brand new banknotes with him. And he has offered a large reward to the engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to Bombay well in advance of time.”
“And you have known your master a long time?”
“Why, no; I entered his service the very day we left London.”
The hasty departure from London soon after the robbery; the large sum carried by Mr. Fogg; his eagerness to reach distant countries—all confirmed Fix in his theory. He continued to ask poor Passepartout, and learned that he really knew little or nothing of his master, who lived a solitary existence in London, was said to be rich, though no one knew whence came his riches, and was mysterious and impenetrable in his affairs and habits. Fix learned that Phileas Fogg would not land at Suez, but was really going on to Bombay.
“Is Bombay far from here?” asked Passepartout.
“Pretty far. It is a ten days’ voyage by sea.”
“And in what country is Bombay?”
“India.”
“In Asia?”
“Certainly.”
Fix and Passepartout had reached the shop, where Fix left his companion to make his purchases, and hurried back to the consulate. Now he was fully convinced.
“Consul,” said he, “I have no longer any doubt. That man is going round the world in eighty days.”
“Then he’s a smart fellow,” returned the consul. “But are you not mistaken?”
“I am not mistaken.”
“Why did this robber want to prove, by the visa, that he had passed through Suez?”
“Why? I have no idea; but listen to me.”
He reported in a few words the most important parts of his conversation with Passepartout.
“So,”
to have his passport visaed – визировать свой паспорт
I’ll make certain of it – я в этом разберусь
