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Around the World in Eighty Days
Chapter 36. IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG'S NAME IS ONCE MORE AT A PREMIUM ON 'CHANGE
It's time to tell what change took place in English public opinion.
This happened when people learned that the real bank robber, James Strand, had been arrested on 17 December in Edinburgh.
Three days before, Phileas Fogg had been a criminal who was being eagerly followed by the police.
Now he was an honourable gentleman, carefully making his strange journey round the world.
The papers began to write about the bet again.
All those who had placed bets, for or against him, took interest again, almost as if by magic.
The "Phileas Fogg bonds" were once more able to be sold, and many new bets were made.
Phileas Fogg's name was once more at a premium on 'Change.
His five friends at the Reform Club spent these three days in a state of feverish waiting.
Would Phileas Fogg, whom they had almost forgotten, come back before their eyes? Where was he now?
The 17th of December, when James Strand was arrested, was the seventy-sixth day since Phileas Fogg left, no news had come.
Was he dead? Had he given up the trip, or was he still going on the route he had chosen?
And would he appear on Saturday the 21st of December at a quarter before nine in the evening at the Reform Club saloon door?
The worry in which London society lived for three days can't be fully told.
Telegrams were sent to America and Asia to try to find news of Phileas Fogg.
Messengers went to the house in Saville Row morning and evening.
No news, the police didn't know what had happened to the detective Fix, who had so sadly followed the wrong clue.
Bets grew, in number and in value.
Phileas Fogg, like a racehorse, was coming near his last turn.
The bonds were no longer worth a hundred below their value, but twenty, ten, or five below.
Even paralysed old Lord Albemarle bet on him.
A large crowd gathered in Pall Mall and the streets nearby on Saturday evening.
It looked like a group of brokers who had lived around the Reform Club for a long time.
Movement was slow, and everywhere there were disputes, talks, and money deals.
The police had great trouble holding back the crowd.
As the time when Phileas Fogg was due came closer, the excitement grew to its highest point.
The five men who had bet against Phileas Fogg met in the great saloon of the club.
John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, bankers. Andrew Stuart, engineer. Gauthier Ralph, director of the Bank of England. Thomas Flanagan, brewer, waited worried.
When the clock showed twenty minutes past eight, Andrew Stuart got up and said, "Gentlemen, in twenty minutes the time Mr."
"Fogg and we agreed on will be past."
"What time did the last train from Liverpool arrive?" asked Thomas Flanagan.
"At twenty three minutes past seven," replied Gauthier Ralph, "and the next one doesn't arrive until ten minutes after twelve."
"Well, gentlemen," Andrew Stuart continued, "if Phileas Fogg had come on the 7:23 train, he'd be here by now. We can, then, say the bet is won."
"Wait, don't be too quick," replied Samuel Fallentin.
"You know Mr."
"Fogg is very strange."
"His punctuality is well known."
"He never comes too early or too late."
"I wouldn't be surprised if he appears at the very last minute."
"Why," said Andrew Stuart nervously, "if I saw him I wouldn't believe it was him."
"The fact is,"
Thomas Flanagan went on, "Mr. Fogg's plan was very foolish."
"No matter how punctual he is, even a two or three day delay would ruin his trip," Thomas Flanagan added.
"Note also," added John Sullivan, "that we have had no news from him, even though there are telegraph lines all along his route."
"He has lost, gentlemen," said Andrew Stuart.
"He has lost a hundred times over."
"You know, too, that the China, the only ship he could have taken from New York to be here in time, arrived yesterday."
"I saw a list of the passengers, and Phileas Fogg's name wasn't there."
"Even if we believe fortune helped him, he can hardly have reached America."
"I think he'll be at least twenty days late, and Lord Albemarle will lose five thousand."
"It's clear," replied Gauthier Ralph, "and we have nothing to do but to present Mr. Fogg's cheque at Barings tomorrow."
At this moment, the hands of the club clock showed twenty minutes to nine.
"Five minutes more," said Andrew Stuart.
The five men looked at each other.
Their worry was getting strong, but, not wanting to show it, they agreed at once to Mr. Fallentin's suggestion of a game.
"I wouldn't give up my four thousand of the bet," said Andrew Stuart as he sat down, "for three thousand nine hundred and ninety nine."
The clock showed eighteen minutes to nine.
The players took up their cards but couldn't stop looking at the clock.
Even if they felt sure, the minutes had never seemed so long to them.
"Seventeen minutes to nine," said Thomas Flanagan as he cut the cards which Ralph gave him.
Then there was a moment of silence.
The great saloon was perfectly quiet, but the crowd outside could be heard, with now and then a sharp cry.
The clock beat the seconds, which each player counted, as he listened with careful regularity.
"Sixteen minutes to nine," said John Sullivan in a voice that showed his feeling.
One minute more and the wager would be won.
Andrew Stuart and his partners stopped playing.
They left their cards and counted the seconds.
At the fortieth second, nothing, At the fiftieth, still nothing.
At the fifty fifth, a loud cry was heard in the street.
It was followed by applause, hurrahs, and some angry shouts.
The players stood up, staring at the club door in a shocked, quiet way.
At the fifty seventh second the door of the saloon opened.
The pendulum hadn't reached the sixtieth second when Phileas Fogg came in.
He was followed by an excited crowd who had forced their way through the club doors.
In his calm voice he said, "Here I'm, gentlemen!"