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36 - Around The World in Eighty Days - Jules Verne · Adventure Books Library

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  Chapter thirty six, in which Phileas Fogg's name is once more at a premium
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  on change. It is time to relate what a change took place in English
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  public opinion when it transpired that the real bank robber, a certain James Strand
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  had been arrested on the seventeenth day of December at Edinburgh. Three days before,
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  Phileas Fogg had been a criminal who was being desperately followed up by the
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  police. Now he was an honorable gentleman, mathematically pursuing his eccentric journey round
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  the world. The papers resumed their discussion about the wager. All those who
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  had laid bets for or against him revived their interest, As if by magic,
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  The Phileas Fogg bonds again became negotiable, and many new wagers were made.
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  Phileas Fogg's name was once more at a premium on change. His five
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  friends of the Reform Club passed these three days in a state of feverish suspense.
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  Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had forgotten, reappear before their eyes?
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  Where was he at this moment? The seventeenth of December, the day of
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  James Strand's arrest, was the seventy sixth since Phileas Fogg's departure, and no
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  news of him had been received. Was he dead, had he abandoned the
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  effort? Or was he continuing his journey along the route agreed upon? And
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  would he appear on Saturday, the twenty first of December at a quarter before
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  nine in the evening on the threshold of the Reform Club saloon. The anxiety
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  in which for three days London society existed cannot be described. Telegrams were sent
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  to America and Asia for news of Phileas Fogg. Messengers were dispatched to the
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  house in saddle Row morning and evening. No news. The police were ignorant
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  what had become of the detective fix who had so unfortunately followed up a false
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  cent Bets increased nevertheless in number and value. Phileas Fogg, like a race
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  horse, was drawing near his last turning point. The bonds were quoted no
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  longer at one hundred below par but at twenty, at ten and at five
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  and paralytic Old Lord Albemarle bet even in his favor. A great crowd was
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  collected in Pellmell and the neighboring streets on Saturday evening. It seemed like a
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  multitude of brokers permanently established around the Reform Club. Circulation was impeded, and
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  everywhere disputes, discussions and financial transactions were going on. The police had great
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  difficulty in keeping back the crowd, and as the hour when Phileas Fogg was
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  due approached, the excitement rose to its highest pitch. The five antagonists of
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  Phileas Fogg had met in the great saloon of the club, John Sullivan and
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  Amuel Flanton, the bankers, Andrew Stewart, the engineer, Gouthier Ralph,
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  the director of the Bank of England, and Thomas Flanagan, the brewer one
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  and all waited anxiously. When the clock indicated twenty minutes past eight, Andrew
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  Stuart got up, saying, gentlemen, and in twenty minutes the time agreed
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  upon between mister Fogg and ourselves will have expired. What time did the last
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  train arrive from Liverpool, asked Thomas Flennigan. At twenty three minutes past seven,
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  replied Gouthier Ralph. And the next does not arrive till ten minutes after
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  twelve. Well, gentlemen, resumed Andrew Stuart. If Phileas Fogg had come
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  in on the seven twenty three train, he would have got here by this
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  time. We can therefore regard the bet as one. Wait. Don't let
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  us be too hasty, replied Samuel Fallenton. You know that mister Fogg is
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  very eccentric. His punctuality is well known. He never arrives too soon or
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  too late. And I should not be surprised if he appeared before us at
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  the last minute. Why, said Andrew Stuart nervously, if I should see
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  him, I should not believe it was he. The fact is, resumed
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  Thomas Flannagan. Mister Fogg's project was absurdly foolish. Whatever his punctuality, he
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  could not prevent the delays which were certain to occur, and a delay of
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  only two or three days would be fatal to his tour. I observe too,
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  added John Sullivan, that we have received no intelligence from him, though
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  there are telegraphic lines all along his route. He has lost, gentlemen,
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  said Andrew Stuart. He has a hundred times lost. You know, besides
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  that, the China, the only steamer he could have taken from New York
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  to get here in time, arrived yesterday. I have seen a list of
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  the passengers, and the name of Phileas Fogg is not among them. Even
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  if we admit that fortune has favored him, he can scarcely have reached America.
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  I think he will be at least twenty days behindhand, and that Lord
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  Albemarle will lose a cool five thousand. It is clear, replied Gothier Ralph.
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  And we have nothing to do but to present mister Fogg's check at Bearings
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  tomorrow. At this moment, the hands of the club clock pointed to twenty
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  minutes to nine. Five minutes more, said Andrew Stuart. The five gentlemen
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  looked at each other. Their anxiety was becoming intense, but not wishing to
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  betray it, they readily assented to mister Fallaton's proposal of a rubber I wouldn't
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  give up my four thousand of the bet, said Andrew Stuart, as he
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  took his seat for three thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine. The clock
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  indicated eighteen minutes to nine. The players took up their cards, but could
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  not keep their eyes off the clock. Certainly, however secure, they felt,
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  minutes had never seemed so long to them. Seventeen minutes to nine,
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  said Thomas Flannigan, as he cut the cards which Ralph handed to him.
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  Then there was a moment of silence. The great saloon was perfectly quiet,
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  but the murmurs of the crowd outside were heard with now and then a shrill
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  cry. The pendulum beat the seconds, which each player eagerly counted as he
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  listened with mathematical regularity. Sixteen minutes to nine, said John Sullivan, in
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  a voice which betrayed his emotion. One minute more and the wager would be
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  won. Andrew Stewart and his partners suspended their game. They left their cards
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  and counted the seconds. At the fortieth second, nothing, At the fiftieth
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  still nothing. At the fifty fifth a loud cry was heard in the street,
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  followed by applause, hurrahs, and some fierce growls. The players arose
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  from their seats. At the fifty seventh second, the door of the saloon
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  opened, and the pendulum had not beat the sixtieth second, when Phileas Fogg
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  appeared, followed by an excited crowd who had forced their way through the club
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  doors, and in his calm voice, said, here I am, gentlemen.
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  End of chapter