"For the present, yes."

"Then let me speak to you."

"But--"

"It is all in your master's interest."

Pa.s.se-partout seemed conquered by the detective's coolness, and followed Fix to the fore part of the ship.

"You have given me a licking," said the detective. "So far, so good. I expected it; but just now you must listen to me. Hitherto I have been playing against Mr. Fogg. I am now in his favour."

"Oh, then you believe him honest at last?"

"By no means. I think he is a thief. Be quiet, hear me out. So long as Mr. Fogg was on British territory, I did all I could to detain him till the warrant for his arrest arrived. It was I who put the Bombay priests on your track. I hocussed you at Hong Kong. I separated you from your master, and caused him to lose the Yokohama steamer."

Pa.s.se-partout clenched his fists as he listened.

"But now," continued Fix, "Mr. Fogg appears likely to return to England. All right, I will follow him. But in future I will do as much to keep his way clear, as I have done to prevent his progress. I have changed my game, and have done so for my own interest; your interest is the same as mine, for it will be only in England that you will ever find out whether your master is honest or not."

Pa.s.se-partout listened attentively, and felt that Fix meant what he said.

"Are we friends?" asked Fix.

"Friends, no; allies, yes; but only to a certain point, for at the least sign of treason, I will twist your neck."

"That's a bargain," said the detective calmly.

Eleven days afterwards, viz. on the 3rd of December, the _General Grant_ entered the Golden Gate of San Francisco.

Mr. Fogg had neither gained nor lost a day.

CHAPTER XXV.

A Glimpse of San Francisco. A Political Meeting.

At seven o'clock in the morning, Mr. Fogg and his companions landed in America, or rather upon the floating pier at which the steamers load and unload. There they mingled with ships and steamers of all nationalities, and steam ferry-boats with two or three decks which performed the service on the Sacramento and its affluents.

Pa.s.se-partout was so delighted to reach America, that he thought it necessary to execute one of his most active leaps. But when he landed upon the quay, he found the planks worm-eaten, and he went through them. His cry of alarm frightened all the birds which perched upon these floating quays.

Mr. Fogg's first care was to ascertain when the next train left for New York. It started at six o'clock, so they had a whole day before them. Then hiring a carriage, they drove to the International Hotel.

From his position on the box of the vehicle, Pa.s.se-partout observed with great curiosity the wide streets, the rows of lofty houses, the churches and other places of worship built in the Anglo-Saxon gothic style, immense docks, palatial warehouses, innumerable cabs, omnibuses, and tramway-cars; while Americans, Europeans, Chinese, and Indians occupied the pathways. San Francisco surprised Pa.s.se-partout.

It was no longer the habitation of bandits, incendiaries, and a.s.sa.s.sins, who gambled for gold-dust, a revolver in one hand and a knife in the other. This "good time" had pa.s.sed. The city was now the hive of commerce. The tower of the city-hall overlooked the labyrinth of streets and avenues, which crossed each other at right angles, amongst which verdant squares extended; and the Chinese quarter looked like an importation from the Celestial Empire in a toy-puzzle.

Sombreros, red shirts, and Indian head-dresses had given way to silk hats and black coats, and some of the princ.i.p.al streets were lined with splendid shops, offering the products of the whole world for sale.

When Pa.s.se-partout reached the International Hotel, he could scarcely recognise that he was not in England. The ground-floor of this immense building was occupied by a bar, at which free lunch of cold meat, oyster soup, biscuits and cheese, was always to be had; wine or beer had to be paid for. The restaurant was comfortable. Mr. Fogg and Mrs.

Aouda sat down to a table, and were waited on by the blackest of negroes.

After breakfast, Phileas Fogg, accompanied by Mrs. Aouda, went to the English Consul to have his pa.s.sport _vised_. On the pavement he met his servant, who wanted to know whether he should not purchase some revolvers and rifles. Pa.s.se-partout had heard of Sioux and p.a.w.nees, who are in the habit of stopping the trains. His master replied that the precaution was needless, but permitted him to do what he pleased in the matter, and pursued his way to the Consulate.

He had not gone very far when, of course by the merest chance, he met Fix. The detective appeared very much astonished. Was it possible that he and Mr. Fogg had crossed in the same steamer, and never met? Fix professed himself honoured at meeting the gentleman to whom he owed so much. Business called him to Europe, and he would be proud to travel in such agreeable company.

Mr. Fogg replied that the honour would be his, and thereupon Fix, who had made up his mind not to lose sight of the other, requested permission to accompany Mr. Fogg in his walks about the city, which was granted.

So the three travellers soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, and on the outskirts of a great crowd. People were everywhere looking on and shouting, going about carrying large printed bills; flags, and streamers were waving, and everyone was calling out "Hurrah for Camerfield!" or "Hurrah for Maudiboy!"

It was a political meeting, at least Fix thought so; and said to Mr.

Fogg that it might perhaps be better not to mingle with the crowd for fear of accidents.

Mr. Fogg agreed, and added "that blows, even though inflicted in a political sense, were nevertheless blows."

Fix smiled, and then in order to be able to see without being hustled, the three travellers mounted a flight of steps at the upper end of the street. Opposite was a large platform towards which the crowd appeared to be moving.

Mr. Fogg could not form any opinion as to what the meeting was about.

Perhaps it was the nomination of a governor of a State, or of a member of Congress, which was not unlikely. Just then the excitement of the crowd became greater, fists were raised as if to register a vote by a show of hands. The crowd swayed backwards and forwards, flags were displayed and immediately torn to pieces, hats were smashed, and the greater part of the crowd seemed to have grown suddenly shorter.

"It is evidently a political meeting," said Fix; "perhaps it is about the Alabama Claims, although they are settled by this time."

"Perhaps it is," replied Mr. Fogg.

"At any rate," continued Fix, "here are the candidates. The Honourable Mr. Camerfield and the Honourable Mr. Maudiboy have met."

Aouda, leaning upon Mr. Fogg's arm, was regarding the tumult with curiosity, and Fix was about to ask the reason of the disturbance when the uproar increased to a terrific extent. The crowd became more excited, blows were exchanged, boots and shoes were sent whirling through the air, and the spectators thought they could hear the crack of revolvers mingling with the cries of men. The combatants approached the steps on which the party had taken refuge. One of the candidates had evidently been repulsed, but whether Camerfield or Maudiboy had got the best of it, mere spectators could not tell.

"I think we had better retire," said Fix; "if there is any discussion about England, and we were recognised, we might receive some injury."

"An Englishman--" began Mr. Fogg.

But he never finished the sentence, for a tremendous uproar arose on the terrace just behind them, and there were loud shouts for Maudiboy, a party of whose adherents were taking their opponents in the flank.

Our travellers were now between two fires; it was too late to escape; the torrent of men armed with life-preservers and sticks could not be withstood. Phileas Fogg and Fix did all they could to protect their fair companions with the weapons nature had provided, but unsuccessfully. A great ruffian, with a red beard, who appeared to be the chief of the band, was about to strike Mr. Fogg, and would probably have done him serious injury if Fix had not stepped in and received the blow in his stead, thereby getting his hat completely smashed.

"You low Yankee!" exclaimed Mr. Fogg contemptuously.

"You English beast!" replied the other.

"We shall meet again."

"Whenever you please."

"What is your name?"

"Phileas Fogg; and yours?"