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Around the World in Eighty Days
Chapter 6. IN WHICH FIX, THE DETECTIVE, BETRAYS A VERY NATURAL IMPATIENCE
The circumstances under which this telegraphic dispatch about Phileas Fogg was sent were as follows,
The steamer "Mongolia", belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company, was built of iron and had a burden of two thousand eight hundred tons.
It had five hundred horse-power and was due at eleven o'clock a.m. on Wednesday, the 9th of October, at Suez.
The "Mongolia" plied regularly between Brindisi and Bombay via the Suez Canal.
It was among the company's fastest steamers, making over ten knots between Brindisi and Suez and nine and a half to Bombay.
Two men walked the wharves among natives and strangers in the village that had grown fast thanks to M. Lesseps.
Lesseps, who helped the town grow quickly, was much praised by locals.
One was the British consul at Suez.
He still saw English ships pass the great canal every day even though what the English Government and Stephenson had said.
The canal had cut the long route from England to India by about half.
The other was a small, thin man with a nervous, clever face and bright eyes under eyebrows he kept moving.
He was showing clear signs of impatience, walking fast and not able to stand still.
This was Fix, one of the detectives sent from England to find the bank robber.
His job was to watch every passenger who came to Suez.
He had to follow anyone who seemed suspicious or matched the description the London police had given him two days before.
The detective clearly hoped to get the large reward for success and waited with feverish impatience for the arrival of the steamer "Mongolia".
"So you say, consul," he asked for the twentieth time, "that this steamer is never behind time?"
"No, Mr. Fix," said the consul.
"She was ordered yesterday at Port Said and the rest of the way means little to such a ship."
"I repeat that the 'Mongolia' has been ahead of the time the company asks and has won the prize for speed."
"Does she come directly from Brindisi?"
"Directly from Brindisi. She takes the Indian mails there,"
"She left on Saturday at five p.m. Have patience, Mr. Fix, she won't be late," said the consul.
"But really, I don't see how, from the description you have, you'll be able to know your man even if he's on board the 'Mongolia'".
"A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than recognises them".
You must have a scent for them, and a scent is like a sixth sense which combines hearing, seeing, and smelling.
I have arrested more than one of these men, and if my thief is on board, he will not slip from me.
"I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery."
"A magnificent robbery, consul, fifty-five thousand pounds!"
"We don't often have such windfalls."
"Burglars are getting to be so contemptible nowadays!"
"A fellow gets hung for a handful of shillings!"
"Mr. Fix," said the consul.
"I like your way of talking, and hope you'll succeed, but I fear you'll find it far from easy."
"Don't you see, the description which you have there has a singular resemblance to an honest man?"
"Consul," remarked the detective, dogmatically.
"Great robbers always resemble honest folks."
"Fellows who have rascally faces have only one course to take, and that's to remain honest, otherwise they'd be arrested off-hand."
"The artistic thing is, to unmask honest countenances, it's no light task, I admit, but a real art."
Mr. Fix evidently wasn't wanting in a tinge of self-conceit.
Little by little the scene on the quay became more animated.
Sailors from many countries, merchants, ship agents, porters and fellahs bustled to and fro as if the steamer were expected.
The weather was clear, and slightly chilly.
The minarets of the town loomed above the houses in the pale rays of the sun.
A jetty pier, some two thousand yards along, extended into the roadstead.
A number of fishing-smacks and coasting boats, some retaining the fantastic fashion of ancient galleys, were discernible on the Red Sea.
As he passed among the busy crowd, Fix, according to habit, scrutinised the passers-by with a keen, rapid glance.
It was now half-past ten, and the crowd waited for the steamer.
"The steamer doesn't come!" he exclaimed, as the port clock struck.
"She can't be far off now," returned his companion.
"How long will she stop at Suez?"
"Four hours, long enough to get in her coal."
"It's thirteen hundred and ten miles from Suez to Aden, at the other end of the Red Sea,"
"And she has to take in a fresh coal supply."
"And does she go from Suez directly to Bombay?"
"Without putting in anywhere."
"Good!" said Fix.
"If the robber is on board he'll no doubt get off at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies in Asia by some other route."
"He ought to know that he wouldn't be safe an hour in India, which is English soil."
"Unless," objected the consul, "he's exceptionally shrewd. An English criminal, you know, is always better concealed in London than anywhere else."
This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and meanwhile the consul went away to his office.
Fix, left alone, was more impatient than ever, having a presentiment that the robber was on board the "Mongolia."
If he had left London to reach the New World, he would take the route via India.
That route was less watched and harder to watch than the Atlantic.
But Fix's reflections were soon interrupted by a succession of sharp whistles, which announced the arrival of the "Mongolia."
The porters and fellahs rushed down the quay, and a dozen boats pushed off from the shore to go and meet the steamer.
Soon her gigantic hull appeared passing along between the banks, and eleven o'clock struck as she anchored in the road.
She brought a large number of passengers, and some stayed on deck to look at the beautiful view of the town.
Most of them got into boats and landed on the quay.
Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face and figure which made its appearance.
Presently one of the passengers pushed his way through the importunate crowd of porters and came up to him.
He politely asked if he could point out the English consulate.
At the same time he showed a passport which he wished to have visaed.
Fix instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance read the description of its bearer.
He almost showed surprise, for the passport's description matched the bank robber's that Scotland Yard had given him.
"Is this your passport?" asked he.
"No, it's my master's."
"And your master is, "
"He stayed on board."
"But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his identity."
"Oh, is that necessary?"
"Quite indispensable."
"And where is the consulate?"
"There, on the corner of the square," said Fix, pointing to a house two hundred steps off.
"I'll go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however, to be disturbed."
The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer.