Читать книгу Вокруг света за 80 дней / Around the World in Eighty Days - Жюль Верн, Жуль Верн - Страница 5

Phileas Fogg won twenty guineas at whist and left the Reform Club at twenty-five minutes past seven. Mr. Fogg entered his bedroom, and called out, “Passepartout!”

Passepartout did not reply.

“Passepartout!” repeated Mr. Fogg.

Passepartout appeared.

“I called you twice,” observed his master.

“But it is not midnight,” responded the other.

“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. He did not comprehend his master.

“Monsieur will leave home?”

“Yes,” returned Phileas Fogg. “We will go round the world.”

Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his hands. He was stupefied.

“Round the world!” he murmured.

“In eighty days,” responded Mr. Fogg. “So no time to lose.”

“But the baggage?” gasped Passepartout.

“We’ll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag[42], with two shirts and three pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you. We’ll buy our clothes on the way.”

Passepartout tried to reply, but was silent. He went out, mounted to his own room, and fell into a chair. Around the world in eighty days! Was his master a fool? No. Was this a joke, then?

Eight o’clock. Passepartout packed the carpet-bag, carefully shut the door of his room, and descended to Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg was quite ready. He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped into it a roll of Bank of England notes.

“Didn’t you forget anything?” asked he.

“Nothing, monsieur.”

“Good! Take this carpet-bag. There are twenty thousand pounds in it.”

They then descended, and at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross[43]. The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes past eight. Passepartout followed his master, who was ready to enter the station, when a poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, approached, and mournfully asked for alms.

Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas and handed them to the beggar,

“Here, my good woman. I’m glad that I met you.”

Passepartout saw it; his master’s action touched his susceptible heart. Mr. Fogg bought two first-class tickets for Paris, and then perceived his five friends of the Reform.

“Well, gentlemen,” said he, “I go, you see; and you will be able to examine my passport when I get back.”

“Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg,” said Ralph politely. “We will trust your word.”

“You do not forget when you are in London again?” asked Stuart.

“In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen.”

Phileas Fogg and his servant sat in a first-class carriage at twenty minutes before nine. Five minutes later the whistle screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the station.