|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 52
Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, and her
insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon.
Clouds were rising from the east, and already overcast a part
of the heavens.
The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary
in these seas crowded with vessels bound landward; for collisions
are not uncommon occurrences, and, at the speed she was going,
the least shock would shatter the gallant little craft.
Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation. He kept apart
from his fellow-travellers, knowing Mr. Fogg's taciturn tastes; besides,
he did not quite like to talk to the man whose favours he had accepted.
He was thinking, too, of the future. It seemed certain that Fogg would not
stop at Yokohama, but would at once take the boat for San Francisco;
and the vast extent of America would ensure him impunity and safety.
Fogg's plan appeared to him the simplest in the world. Instead of sailing
directly from England to the United States, like a common villain,
he had traversed three quarters of the globe, so as to gain the
American continent more surely; and there, after throwing
the police off his track, he would quietly enjoy himself
with the fortune stolen from the bank. But, once in the United States,
what should he, Fix, do? Should he abandon this man? No, a hundred times no!
Until he had secured his extradition, he would not lose sight of him for an hour.
It was his duty, and he would fulfil it to the end. At all events,
there was one thing to be thankful for; Passepartout was not with his master;
and it was above all important, after the confidences Fix had imparted to him,
that the servant should never have speech with his master.
Phileas Fogg was also thinking of Passepartout, who had so
strangely disappeared. Looking at the matter from every point of view,
it did not seem to him impossible that, by some mistake, the man might
have embarked on the Carnatic at the last moment; and this was also
Aouda's opinion, who regretted very much the loss of the worthy fellow
to whom she owed so much. They might then find him at Yokohama;
for, if the Carnatic was carrying him thither, it would be easy
to ascertain if he had been on board.
A brisk breeze arose about ten o'clock; but, though it might
have been prudent to take in a reef, the pilot, after carefully
examining the heavens, let the craft remain rigged as before.
The Tankadere bore sail admirably, as she drew a great deal of water,
and everything was prepared for high speed in case of a gale.
Mr. Fogg and Aouda descended into the cabin at midnight,
having been already preceded by Fix, who had lain down on one of the cots.
The pilot and crew remained on deck all night.
At sunrise the next day, which was 8th November, the boat had made
more than one hundred miles. The log indicated a mean speed of between
eight and nine miles. The Tankadere still carried all sail,
and was accomplishing her greatest capacity of speed.
If the wind held as it was, the chances would be in her favour.
During the day she kept along the coast, where the currents were favourable;
the coast, irregular in profile, and visible sometimes across the clearings,
was at most five miles distant. The sea was less boisterous,
since the wind came off land--a fortunate circumstance for the boat,
which would suffer, owing to its small tonnage, by a heavy surge on the sea.
The breeze subsided a little towards noon, and set in from the south-west.
The pilot put up his poles, but took them down again within two hours,
as the wind freshened up anew.
Mr. Fogg and Aouda, happily unaffected by the roughness of the sea,
ate with a good appetite, Fix being invited to share their repast,
which he accepted with secret chagrin. To travel at this man's
expense and live upon his provisions was not palatable to him.
Still, he was obliged to eat, and so he ate.
When the meal was over, he took Mr. Fogg apart, and said,
"sir"--this "sir" scorched his lips, and he had to control himself
to avoid collaring this "gentleman"--"sir, you have been very kind
to give me a passage on this boat. But, though my means will not admit
of my expending them as freely as you, I must ask to pay my share--"
"Let us not speak of that, sir," replied Mr. Fogg.
"But, if I insist--"
"No, sir," repeated Mr. Fogg, in a tone which did not admit of a
reply. "This enters into my general expenses."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|