الفصل الفصل 37 · IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT PHILEAS FOGG GAINED NOTHING BY HIS TOUR

IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT PHILEAS FOGG GAINED NOTHING BY HIS TOUR

AROUND THE WORLD, UNLESS IT WERE HAPPINESS

Yes; Phileas Fogg in person.

The reader will remember that at five minutes past eight in the

evening—about five and twenty hours after the arrival of the travellers

in London—Passepartout had been sent by his master to engage the

services of the Reverend Samuel Wilson in a certain marriage ceremony,

which was to take place the next day.

Passepartout went on his errand enchanted. He soon reached the

clergyman’s house, but found him not at home. Passepartout waited a

good twenty minutes, and when he left the reverend gentleman, it was

thirty-five minutes past eight. But in what a state he was! With his

hair in disorder, and without his hat, he ran along the street as never

man was seen to run before, overturning passers-by, rushing over the

sidewalk like a waterspout.

In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and staggered back into

Mr. Fogg’s room.

He could not speak.

“What is the matter?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“My master!” gasped Passepartout—“marriage—impossible—”

“Impossible?”

“Impossible—for to-morrow.”

“Why so?”

“Because to-morrow—is Sunday!”

“Monday,” replied Mr. Fogg.

“No—to-day is Saturday.”

“Saturday? Impossible!”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” cried Passepartout. “You have made a mistake of

one day! We arrived twenty-four hours ahead of time; but there are only

ten minutes left!”

Passepartout had seized his master by the collar, and was dragging him

along with irresistible force.

Phileas Fogg, thus kidnapped, without having time to think, left his

house, jumped into a cab, promised a hundred pounds to the cabman, and,

having run over two dogs and overturned five carriages, reached the

Reform Club.

The clock indicated a quarter before nine when he appeared in the great

saloon.

Phileas Fogg had accomplished the journey round the world in eighty

days!

Phileas Fogg had won his wager of twenty thousand pounds!

How was it that a man so exact and fastidious could have made this

error of a day? How came he to think that he had arrived in London on

Saturday, the twenty-first day of December, when it was really Friday,

the twentieth, the seventy-ninth day only from his departure?

The cause of the error is very simple.

Phileas Fogg had, without suspecting it, gained one day on his journey,

and this merely because he had travelled constantly _eastward;_ he

would, on the contrary, have lost a day had he gone in the opposite

direction, that is, _westward_.

In journeying eastward he had gone towards the sun, and the days

therefore diminished for him as many times four minutes as he crossed

degrees in this direction. There are three hundred and sixty degrees on

the circumference of the earth; and these three hundred and sixty

degrees, multiplied by four minutes, gives precisely twenty-four

hours—that is, the day unconsciously gained. In other words, while

Phileas Fogg, going eastward, saw the sun pass the meridian _eighty_

times, his friends in London only saw it pass the meridian

_seventy-nine_ times. This is why they awaited him at the Reform Club

on Saturday, and not Sunday, as Mr. Fogg thought.

And Passepartout’s famous family watch, which had always kept London

time, would have betrayed this fact, if it had marked the days as well

as the hours and the minutes!

Phileas Fogg, then, had won the twenty thousand pounds; but, as he had

spent nearly nineteen thousand on the way, the pecuniary gain was

small. His object was, however, to be victorious, and not to win money.

He divided the one thousand pounds that remained between Passepartout

and the unfortunate Fix, against whom he cherished no grudge. He

deducted, however, from Passepartout’s share the cost of the gas which

had burned in his room for nineteen hundred and twenty hours, for the

sake of regularity.

That evening, Mr. Fogg, as tranquil and phlegmatic as ever, said to

Aouda: “Is our marriage still agreeable to you?”

“Mr. Fogg,” replied she, “it is for me to ask that question. You were

ruined, but now you are rich again.”

“Pardon me, madam; my fortune belongs to you. If you had not suggested

our marriage, my servant would not have gone to the Reverend Samuel

Wilson’s, I should not have been apprised of my error, and—”

“Dear Mr. Fogg!” said the young woman.

“Dear Aouda!” replied Phileas Fogg.

It need not be said that the marriage took place forty-eight hours

after, and that Passepartout, glowing and dazzling, gave the bride

away. Had he not saved her, and was he not entitled to this honour?

The next day, as soon as it was light, Passepartout rapped vigorously

at his master’s door. Mr. Fogg opened it, and asked, “What’s the

matter, Passepartout?”

“What is it, sir? Why, I’ve just this instant found out—”

“What?”

“That we might have made the tour of the world in only seventy-eight

days.”

“No doubt,” returned Mr. Fogg, “by not crossing India. But if I had not

crossed India, I should not have saved Aouda; she would not have been

my wife, and—”

Mr. Fogg quietly shut the door.

Phileas Fogg had won his wager, and had made his journey around the

world in eighty days. To do this he had employed every means of

conveyance—steamers, railways, carriages, yachts, trading-vessels,

sledges, elephants. The eccentric gentleman had throughout displayed

all his marvellous qualities of coolness and exactitude. But what then?

What had he really gained by all this trouble? What had he brought back

from this long and weary journey?

Nothing, say you? Perhaps so; nothing but a charming woman, who,

strange as it may appear, made him the happiest of men!

Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the world?