Chapter 134 - Around the World in 80 Days

First of all, the worthy fellow had gone up to his room and had extinguished the gas burner, which had been burning for eighty days. He had found in the letter-box a bill from the gas company, and he thought it more than time to put a stop to this expense, which he had been doomed to bear. The night passed. Mr. Fogg went to bed. But did he sleep? Aouda did not once close her eyes. Passepartout watched all night, like a faithful dog, at his master's door. Mr. Fogg called him in the morning, and told him to get Aouda's breakfast, and a cup of tea and a chop for himself. He desired Aouda to excuse him from breakfast and dinner, as his time would be absorbed all day in putting his affairs to rights. In the evening he would ask permission to have a few moments' conversation with the young lady. Passepartout, having received his orders, had nothing to do but obey them. He looked at his imperturbable master, and could scarcely bring his mind to leave him. His heart was full, and his conscience tortured by remorse, for he accused himself more bitterly than ever of being the cause of the irretrievable disaster. Yes, if he had warned Mr. Fogg, and had betrayed Fix's projects to him, his master would certainly not have given the detective passage to Liverpool, and then Passepartout could hold in no longer. "'My master, Mr. Fogg,' he cried, 'why do you not curse me? It was my fault that—' "'I blame no one,' returned Phileas Fogg, with perfect calmness. Go.' Passepartout left the room and went to find Aouda, to whom he delivered his master's message. "'Madam,' he added, 'I can do nothing myself—nothing. I have no influence over my master. But you, perhaps?' "'What influence could I have?' replied Aouda. "'Mr. Fogg is influenced by no one. Has he ever understood that my gratitude to him is overflowing? Has he ever read my heart? My friend, he must not be left alone an instant. You say he is going to speak with me this evening?' "'Yes, madam. Probably to arrange for your protection and comfort in England. We shall see,' replied Aouda, becoming suddenly pensive. Throughout this day, Sunday, the house in Saville Row was as if uninhabited, and Phileas Fogg, for the first time since he had lived in that house, did not set out for his club when Westminster clock struck half-past eleven. Why should he present himself at the reform? His friends no longer expected him there. As Phileas Fogg had not appeared in the saloon on the evening before, Saturday, the twenty-first of December, at a quarter before nine, he had lost his wager. It was not even necessary that he should go to his bankers for the twenty thousand pounds, for his antagonists already had his cheque in their hands, and they had only to fill it out and send it to the Barings, to have the amount transferred to their credit. Mr. Fogg, therefore, had no reason for going out, and so he remained at home. He shut himself up in his room, and busied himself putting his affairs in order. Passepartout continually ascended and descended the stairs. The hours were long for him. He listened at his master's door, and looked through the keyhole, as if he had a perfect right so to do, and as if he feared that something terrible might happen at any moment. Sometimes he thought of Fix, but no longer in anger. It's like all the world had been mistaken in Phileas Fogg, and had only done his duty in tracking and arresting him, while he, Passepartout,—this thought haunted him, and he never ceased cursing his miserable folly.