Chapter 8 Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and looking about on the quay, as if he did not feel that he, at least, was obliged not to see anything.“Well, my friend,” said the detective, coming up with him, “is your passport visaed?”“Ah, it’s you, is it, monsieur?” responded Passepartout. “Thanks, yes, the passport […]
In which Passepartout talks rather more, perhaps, than is prudent Read More »
Chapter 7 The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly made his way to the consul’s office, where he was at once admitted to the presence of that official.“Consul,” said he, without preamble, “I have strong reasons for believing that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia.” And he narrated what had just passed
Which once more demonstrates the uselessness of passports as aids to detectives Read More »
Chapter 6 The circumstances under which this telegraphic despatch about Phileas Fogg was sent were as follows: –The steamer Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company, built of iron, of two thousand eight hundred tons burden, and five hundred horse-power, was due at eleven o’clock a.m. on Wednesday, the 9th of October, at Suez.
In which Fix, the detective, betrays a very natural impatience Read More »
Chapter 5 Phileas Fogg rightly suspected that his departure from London would create a lively sensation at the West End.The news of the bet spread through the Reform Club, and afforded an exciting topic of conversation to its members. From theClub it soon got into the papers throughout England. The boasted “tour of the world”
In which a new species of funds, unknown to the moneyed men, appears on ’change Read More »
Chapter 4 Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends, Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club.Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his duties, was more than surprised to see his master guilty of the inexactness of appearing at this unaccustomed hour; for, according to
In which Phileas Fogg astounds Passepartout, his servant Read More »
Chapter 3 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
In which a conversation takes place which seems likely to cost Phileas Fogg dear Read More »
Chapter 2 Faith, muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, “I’ve seen people at Madame Tussaud’s as lively as my new master!”Madame Tussaud’s ‘people’, let it be known, are made of wax, and are much visited in London; only the speech is missing, to make them human.During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing
In which Passepartout is convinced that he has at last found his ideal Read More »
Chapter 1 Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical person about whom little was known, except that he was
In which Phileas Fogg and Passepartout accept each other, as master and man Read More »
for some days after that evening, Mr. Heathcliff shunned meeting us at meals; yet he would not consent, formally, to exclude Hareton and Cathy. He had an aversion to yielding so completely to his feelings, choosing rather to absent himself; and eating once in twenty-four hours seemed sufficient sustenance for him.One night, after the family
on the morrow of that Monday, Earnshaw being still unable to follow his ordinary employments, and therefore remaining about the house, I speedily found it would be impracticable to retain my charge beside me, as heretofore. She got downstairs before me, and out into the garden, where she had seen her cousin performing some easy
1980– This September, I was invited to devastate the moors of a friend, in the North; and, on my journey to his abode, I unexpectedly came within fifteen miles of Gimmerton. The hostler at a roadside public-house was holding a pail of water to refresh my horses, when a cart of very green oats, newly
Yesterday was bright, calm, and frosty. I went to the Heights as I proposed: my housekeeper entreated me to bear a little note from her to her young lady, and I did not refuse, for the worthy woman was not conscious of anything odd in her request. The front door stood open, but the jealous
I have paid a visit to the Heights, but I have not seen her since she left: Joseph held the door in his hand, when I called to ask after her, and wouldn’t let me pass. He said Mrs. Linton was ‘thrang,’ (busy) and the master was not in. Zillah has told me something of
The evening after the funeral, my young lady and I were seated in the library; now musing mournfully – one of us despairingly – on our loss, now venturing conjectures as to the gloomy future.We had just agreed the best destiny which could await Catherine, would be a permission to continue resident at the Grange;
on the fifth morning, or rather afternoon, a different step approached – lighter and shorter; and, this time, the person entered the room. It was Zillah; donned in her scarlet shawl, with a black silk bonnet on her head, and a willow basket swung to her arm.‘Eh, dear! Mrs. Dean,’ she exclaimed. ‘Well! there is