Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne (best story books to read .txt) 📕

Chapter III

IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH SEEMS LIKELY TO COST

PHILEAS FOGG DEAR

 

Phileas Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half-past eleven, and

having put his right foot before his left five hundred and seventy-five times, and his left foot

before his right five hundred and seventy-six times, reached the Reform Club,

an imposing edifice in Pall Mall, which could not have cost less than

three millions. He repaired at once to the dining-room, the nine windows

of which open upon a tasteful garden, where the trees were already gilded

with an autumn colouring; and took his place at the habitual table,

the cover of which had already been laid for him. His breakfast consisted

of a side-dish, a broiled fish with Reading sauce, a scarlet slice of

roast beef garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart,

and a morsel of Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed down with

several cups of tea, for which the Reform is famous. He rose at

thirteen minutes to one, and directed his steps towards the large hall,

a sumptuous apartment adorned with lavishly-framed paintings.

A flunkey handed him an uncut Times, which he proceeded to cut

with a skill which betrayed familiarity with this delicate operation.

The perusal of this paper absorbed Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four,

whilst the Standard, his next task, occupied him till the dinner hour.

Dinner passed as breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg reappeared in the

reading-room and sat down to the Pall Mall at twenty minutes before six.

Half an hour later several members of the Reform came in and drew up

to the fireplace, where a coal fire was steadily burning.

They were Mr. Fogg’s usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer;

John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a brewer;

and Gauthier Ralph, one of the Directors of the Bank of England—

all rich and highly respectable personages, even in a club which

comprises the princes of English trade and finance.

 

“Well, Ralph,” said Thomas Flanagan, “what about that robbery?”

 

“Oh,” replied Stuart, “the Bank will lose the money.”

 

“On the contrary,” broke in Ralph, “I hope we may put our hands

on the robber. Skilful detectives have been sent to all the

principal ports of America and the Continent, and he’ll

be a clever fellow if he slips through their fingers.”

 

“But have you got the robber’s description?” asked Stuart.

 

“In the first place, he is no robber at all,” returned Ralph, positively.

 

“What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand pounds, no robber?”

 

“No.”

 

“Perhaps he’s a manufacturer, then.”

 

“The Daily Telegraph says that he is a gentleman.”

 

It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from behind his newspapers, who

made this remark. He bowed to his friends, and entered into the conversation.

The affair which formed its subject, and which was town talk, had occurred

three days before at the Bank of England. A package of banknotes, to the

value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been taken from the principal

cashier’s table, that functionary being at the moment engaged in registering

the receipt of three shillings and sixpence. Of course, he could not have

his eyes everywhere. Let it be observed that the Bank of England reposes

a touching confidence in the honesty of the public. There are neither guards

nor gratings to protect its treasures; gold, silver, banknotes are freely

exposed, at the mercy of the first comer. A keen observer of English customs

relates that, being in one of the rooms of the Bank one day, he had the

curiosity to examine a gold ingot weighing some seven or eight pounds.

He took it up, scrutinised it, passed it to his neighbour, he to the next man,

and so on until the ingot, going from hand to hand, was transferred to the end

of a dark entry; nor did it return to its place for half an hour. Meanwhile,

the cashier had not so much as raised his head. But in the present instance

things had not gone so smoothly. The package of notes not being found when

five o’clock sounded from the ponderous clock in the “drawing office,”

the amount was passed to the account of profit and loss. As soon as

the robbery was discovered, picked detectives hastened off to Liverpool,

Glasgow, Havre, Suez, Brindisi, New York, and other ports, inspired by

the proffered reward of two thousand pounds, and five per cent. on the sum

that might be recovered. Detectives were also charged with narrowly watching

those who arrived at or left London by rail, and a judicial examination

was at once entered upon.

 

There were real grounds for supposing, as the Daily Telegraph said,

that the thief did not belong to a professional band. On the day

of the robbery a well-dressed gentleman of polished manners,

and with a well-to-do air, had been observed going to and fro

in the paying room where the crime was committed. A description

of him was easily procured and sent to the detectives; and some

hopeful spirits, of whom Ralph was one, did not despair of his apprehension.

The papers and clubs were full of the affair, and everywhere people were

discussing the probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club

was especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials.

 

Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives was likely

to be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered would greatly

stimulate their zeal and activity. But Stuart was far from sharing

this confidence; and, as they placed themselves at the whist-table,

they continued to argue the matter. Stuart and Flanagan played together,

while Phileas Fogg had Fallentin for his partner. As the game proceeded

the conversation ceased, excepting between the rubbers, when it revived again.

 

“I maintain,” said Stuart, “that the chances are in favour of the

thief, who must be a shrewd fellow.”

 

“Well, but where can he fly to?” asked Ralph. “No country is safe for him.”

 

“Pshaw!”

 

“Where could he go, then?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know that. The world is big enough.”

 

“It was once,” said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone. “Cut, sir,”

he added, handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan.

 

The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart took up its thread.

 

“What do you mean by `once’? Has the world grown smaller?”

 

“Certainly,” returned Ralph. “I agree with Mr. Fogg. The world

has grown smaller, since a man can now go round it ten times more quickly

than a hundred years ago. And that is why the search for this thief

will be more likely to succeed.”

 

“And also why the thief can get away more easily.”

 

“Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart,” said Phileas Fogg.

 

But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the

hand was finished, said eagerly: “You have a strange way, Ralph,

of proving that the world has grown smaller. So, because you

can go round it in three months—”

 

“In eighty days,” interrupted Phileas Fogg.

 

“That is true, gentlemen,” added John Sullivan. “Only eighty days,

now that the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the

Great Indian Peninsula Railway, has been opened.

Here is the estimate made by the Daily Telegraph:

 

From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and

Brindisi, by rail and steamboats …………….. 7 days

From Suez to Bombay, by steamer ……………….. 13 “