第 七 章 · WHICH ONCE MORE DEMONSTRATES THE USELESSNESS OF PASSPORTS AS AIDS TO
. WHICH ONCE MORE DEMONSTRATES THE USELESSNESS OF PASSPORTS AS AIDS TO
DETECTIVES
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 concerning the passport.
“Well, Mr. Fix,” replied the consul, “I shall not be sorry to see the
rascal’s face; but perhaps he won’t come here—that is, if he is the
person you suppose him to be. A robber doesn’t quite like to leave
traces of his flight behind him; and, besides, he is not obliged to
have his passport countersigned.”
“If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will come.”
“To have his passport _visaed?_”
“Yes. Passports are only good for annoying honest folks, and aiding in
the flight of rogues. I assure you it will be quite the thing for him
to do; but I hope you will not _visa_ the passport.”
“Why not? If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse.”
“Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest
him from London.”
“Ah, that’s your look-out. But I cannot—”
The consul did not finish his sentence, for as he spoke a knock was
heard at the door, and two strangers entered, one of whom was the
servant whom Fix had met on the quay. The other, who was his master,
held out his passport with the request that the consul would do him the
favour to _visa_ it. The consul took the document and carefully read
it, whilst Fix observed, or rather devoured, the stranger with his eyes
from a corner of the room.
“You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?” said the consul, after reading the
passport.
“I am.”
“And this man is your servant?”
“He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout.”
“You are from London?”
“Yes.”
“And you are going—”
“To Bombay.”
“Very good, sir. You know that a _visa_ is useless, and that no
passport is required?”
“I know it, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg; “but I wish to prove, by your
_visa_, that I came by Suez.”
“Very well, sir.”
The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he
added his official seal. Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee, coldly bowed,
and went out, followed by his servant.
“Well?” queried the detective.
“Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man,” replied the
consul.
“Possibly; but that is not the question. Do you think, consul, that
this phlegmatic gentleman resembles, feature by feature, the robber
whose description I have received?”
“I concede that; but then, you know, all descriptions—”
“I’ll make certain of it,” interrupted Fix. “The servant seems to me
less mysterious than the master; besides, he’s a Frenchman, and can’t
help talking. Excuse me for a little while, consul.”
Fix started off in search of Passepartout.
Meanwhile Mr. Fogg, after leaving the consulate, repaired to the quay,
gave some orders to Passepartout, went off to the “Mongolia” in a boat,
and descended to his cabin. He took up his note-book, which contained
the following memoranda:
“Left London, Wednesday, October 2nd, at 8.45 p.m.
“Reached Paris, Thursday, October 3rd, at 7.20 a.m.
“Left Paris, Thursday, at 8.40 a.m.
“Reached Turin by Mont Cenis, Friday, October 4th, at 6.35 a.m.
“Left Turin, Friday, at 7.20 a.m.
“Arrived at Brindisi, Saturday, October 5th, at 4 p.m.
“Sailed on the ‘Mongolia,’ Saturday, at 5 p.m.
“Reached Suez, Wednesday, October 9th, at 11 a.m.
“Total of hours spent, 158½; or, in days, six days and a half.”
These dates were inscribed in an itinerary divided into columns,
indicating the month, the day of the month, and the day for the
stipulated and actual arrivals at each principal point Paris, Brindisi,
Suez, Bombay, Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama, San Francisco,
New York, and London—from the 2nd of October to the 21st of December;
and giving a space for setting down the gain made or the loss suffered
on arrival at each locality. This methodical record thus contained an
account of everything needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was
behind-hand or in advance of his time. On this Friday, October 9th, he
noted his arrival at Suez, and observed that he had as yet neither
gained nor lost. He sat down quietly to breakfast in his cabin, never
once thinking of inspecting the town, being one of those Englishmen who
are wont to see foreign countries through the eyes of their domestics.