**IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ASTOUNDS PASSEPARTOUT, HIS SERVANT**
Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends, Philea_ogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club.
Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his duties, wa_ore than surprised to see his master guilty of the inexactness of appearin_t this unaccustomed hour; for, according to rule, he was not due in Savill_ow until precisely midnight.
Mr. Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, "Passepartout!"
Passepartout did not reply. It could not be he who was called; it was not th_ight hour.
"Passepartout!" repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his voice.
Passepartout made his appearance.
"I've called you twice," observed his master.
"But it is not midnight," responded the other, showing his watch.
"I know it; I don't blame you. We start for Dover and Calais in ten minutes."
A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout's round face; clearly he had no_omprehended his master.
"Monsieur is going to leave home?"
"Yes," returned Phileas Fogg. "We are going round the world."
Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his hands, an_eemed about to collapse, so overcome was he with stupefied astonishment.
"Round the world!" he murmured.
"In eighty days," responded Mr. Fogg. "So we haven't a moment to lose."
"But the trunks?" gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head fro_ight to left.
"We'll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts and three pairs o_tockings for me, and the same for you. We'll buy our clothes on the way.
Bring down my mackintosh and traveling-cloak, and some stout shoes, though w_hall do little walking. Make haste!"
Passepartout tried to reply, but could not. He went out, mounted to his ow_oom, fell into a chair, and muttered: "That's good, that is! And I, wh_anted to remain quiet!"
He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure. Around th_orld in eighty days! Was his master a fool? No. Was this a joke, then? The_ere going to Dover; good! To Calais; good again! After all, Passepartout, wh_ad been away from France five years, would not be sorry to set foot on hi_ative soil again. Perhaps they would go as far as Paris, and it would do hi_yes good to see Paris once more. But surely a gentleman so chary of his step_ould stop there; no doubt— but, then, it was none the less true that he wa_oing away, this so domestic person hitherto!
By eight o'clock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag, containing th_ardrobes of his master and himself; then, still troubled in mind, h_arefully shut the door of his room, and descended to Mr. Fogg.
Mr. Fogg was quite ready. Under his arm might have been observed a red-boun_opy of Bradshaw's Continental Railway Steam Transit and General Guide, wit_ts timetables showing the arrival and departure of steamers and railways. H_ook the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped into it a goodly roll of Bank o_ngland notes, which would pass wherever he might go.
"You have forgotten nothing?" asked he.
"My mackintosh and cloak?"
"Here they are."
"Good! Take this carpet-bag," handing it to Passepartout. "Take good care o_t, for there are twenty thousand pounds in it."
Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty thousand pounds were i_old, and weighed him down.
Master and man then descended, the street-door was double-locked, and at th_nd of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross. The ca_topped before the railway station at twenty minutes past eight. Passepartou_umped off the box and followed his master, who, after paying the cabman, wa_bout to enter the station, when a poor beggar-woman, with a child in he_rms, her naked feet smeared with mud, her head covered with a wretche_onnet, from which hung a tattered feather, and her shoulders shrouded in _agged shawl, approached, and mournfully asked for alms.
Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won at whist, and handed the_o the beggar, saying, "Here, my good woman. I'm glad that I met you;" an_assed on.
Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his master's action touche_is susceptible heart.
Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr. Fogg wa_rossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five friends of th_eform.
"Well, gentlemen," said he, "I'm off, you see; and, if you will examine m_assport when I get back, you will be able to judge whether I hav_ccomplished the journey agreed upon."
"Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg," said Ralph politely. "We wil_rust your word, as a gentleman of honour."
"You do not forget when you are due in London again?" asked Stuart.
"In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter befor_ine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen."
Phileas Fogg and his servant seated themselves in a first-class carriage a_wenty minutes before nine; five minutes later the whistle screamed, and th_rain slowly glided out of the station.
The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling. Phileas Fogg, snugl_nsconced in his corner, did not open his lips. Passepartout, not ye_ecovered from his stupefaction, clung mechanically to the carpet-bag, wit_ts enormous treasure.
Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly uttere_ cry of despair.
"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.
"Alas! In my hurry—I—I forgot—"
"To turn off the gas in my room!"
"Very well, young man," returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; "it will burn— at you_xpense."