IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT FINDS OUT THAT, EVEN AT THE ANTIPODES, <BR>
IT IS CONVENIENT TO HAVE SOME MONEY IN ONE'S POCKET
The Carnatic, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th
of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan. She
carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers. Two
state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied—those which had been
engaged by Phileas Fogg.
The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait,
and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to
totter to a seat on deck.
It was Passepartout; and what had happened to him was as follows:
Shortly after Fix left the opium den, two waiters had lifted the
unconscious Passepartout, and had carried him to the bed reserved for
the smokers. Three hours later, pursued even in his dreams by a fixed
idea, the poor fellow awoke, and struggled against the stupefying
influence of the narcotic. The thought of a duty unfulfilled shook off
his torpor, and he hurried from the abode of drunkenness. Staggering
and holding himself up by keeping against the walls, falling down and
creeping up again, and irresistibly impelled by a kind of instinct, he
kept crying out, "The Carnatic! the Carnatic!"
The steamer lay puffing alongside the quay, on the point of starting.
Passepartout had but few steps to go; and, rushing upon the plank, he
crossed it, and fell unconscious on the deck, just as the Carnatic was
moving off. Several sailors, who were evidently accustomed to this
sort of scene, carried the poor Frenchman down into the second cabin,
and Passepartout did not wake until they were one hundred and fifty
miles away from China. Thus he found himself the next morning on the
deck of the Carnatic, and eagerly inhaling the exhilarating sea-breeze.
The pure air sobered him. He began to collect his sense, which he
found a difficult task; but at last he recalled the events of the
evening before, Fix's revelation, and the opium-house.
"It is evident," said he to himself, "that I have been abominably
drunk! What will Mr. Fogg say? At least I have not missed the
steamer, which is the most important thing."
Then, as Fix occurred to him: "As for that rascal, I hope we are well
rid of him, and that he has not dared, as he proposed, to follow us on
board the Carnatic. A detective on the track of Mr. Fogg, accused of
robbing the Bank of England! Pshaw! Mr. Fogg is no more a robber than
I am a murderer."
Should he divulge Fix's real errand to his master? Would it do to tell
the part the detective was playing? Would it not be better to wait
until Mr. Fogg reached London again, and then impart to him that an
agent of the metropolitan police had been following him round the
world, and have a good laugh over it? No doubt; at least, it was worth
considering. The first thing to do was to find Mr. Fogg, and apologise
for his singular behaviour.
Passepartout got up and proceeded, as well as he could with the rolling
of the steamer, to the after-deck. He saw no one who resembled either
his master or Aouda. "Good!" muttered he; "Aouda has not got up yet,
and Mr. Fogg has probably found some partners at whist."
He descended to the saloon. Mr. Fogg was not there. Passepartout had
only, however, to ask the purser the number of his master's state-room.
The purser replied that he did not know any passenger by the name of
"I beg your pardon," said Passepartout persistently. "He is a tall
gentleman, quiet, and not very talkative, and has with him a young
"There is no young lady on board," interrupted the purser. "Here is a
list of the passengers; you may see for yourself."
Passepartout scanned the list, but his master's name was not upon it.
All at once an idea struck him.
"Ah! am I on the Carnatic?"
"On the way to Yokohama?"
Passepartout had for an instant feared that he was on the wrong boat;
but, though he was really on the Carnatic, his master was not there.
He fell thunderstruck on a seat. He saw it all now. He remembered
that the time of sailing had been changed, that he should have informed
his master of that fact, and that he had not done so. It was his
fault, then, that Mr. Fogg and Aouda had missed the steamer. Yes, but
it was still more the fault of the traitor who, in order to separate
him from his master, and detain the latter at Hong Kong, had inveigled
him into getting drunk! He now saw the detective's trick; and at this
moment Mr. Fogg was certainly ruined, his bet was lost, and he himself
perhaps arrested and imprisoned! At this thought Passepartout tore his
hair. Ah, if Fix ever came within his reach, what a settling of
accounts there would be!
After his first depression, Passepartout became calmer, and began to
study his situation. It was certainly not an enviable one. He found
himself on the way to Japan, and what should he do when he got there?
His pocket was empty; he had not a solitary shilling, not so much as a
penny. His passage had fortunately been paid for in advance; and he
had five or six days in which to decide upon his future course. He
fell to at meals with an appetite, and ate for Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and
himself. He helped himself as generously as if Japan were a desert,
where nothing to eat was to be looked for.
At dawn on the 13th the Carnatic entered the port of Yokohama. This is
an important port of call in the Pacific, where all the mail-steamers,
and those carrying travellers between North America, China, Japan, and
the Oriental islands put in. It is situated in the bay of Yeddo, and
at but a short distance from that second capital of the Japanese
Empire, and the residence of the Tycoon, the civil Emperor, before the
Mikado, the spiritual Emperor, absorbed his office in his own. The
Carnatic anchored at the quay near the custom-house, in the midst of a
crowd of ships bearing the flags of all nations.
Passepartout went timidly ashore on this so curious territory of the
Sons of the Sun. He had nothing better to do than, taking chance for
his guide, to wander aimlessly through the streets of Yokohama. He
found himself at first in a thoroughly European quarter, the houses
having low fronts, and being adorned with verandas, beneath which he
caught glimpses of neat peristyles. This quarter occupied, with its
streets, squares, docks, and warehouses, all the space between the
"promontory of the Treaty" and the river. Here, as at Hong Kong and
Calcutta, were mixed crowds of all races, Americans and English,
Chinamen and Dutchmen, mostly merchants ready to buy or sell anything.
The Frenchman felt himself as much alone among them as if he had
dropped down in the midst of Hottentots.
He had, at least, one resource,—to call on the French and English
consuls at Yokohama for assistance. But he shrank from telling the
story of his adventures, intimately connected as it was with that of
his master; and, before doing so, he determined to exhaust all other
means of aid. As chance did not favour him in the European quarter, he
penetrated that inhabited by the native Japanese, determined, if
necessary, to push on to Yeddo.
The Japanese quarter of Yokohama is called Benten, after the goddess of
the sea, who is worshipped on the islands round about. There
Passepartout beheld beautiful fir and cedar groves, sacred gates of a
singular architecture, bridges half hid in the midst of bamboos and
reeds, temples shaded by immense cedar-trees, holy retreats where were
sheltered Buddhist priests and sectaries of Confucius, and interminable
streets, where a perfect harvest of rose-tinted and red-cheeked
children, who looked as if they had been cut out of Japanese screens,
and who were playing in the midst of short-legged poodles and yellowish
cats, might have been gathered.
The streets were crowded with people. Priests were passing in
processions, beating their dreary tambourines; police and custom-house
officers with pointed hats encrusted with lac and carrying two sabres
hung to their waists; soldiers, clad in blue cotton with white stripes,
and bearing guns; the Mikado's guards, enveloped in silken doubles,
hauberks and coats of mail; and numbers of military folk of all
ranks—for the military profession is as much respected in Japan as it
is despised in China—went hither and thither in groups and pairs.
Passepartout saw, too, begging friars, long-robed pilgrims, and simple
civilians, with their warped and jet-black hair, big heads, long busts,
slender legs, short stature, and complexions varying from copper-colour
to a dead white, but never yellow, like the Chinese, from whom the
Japanese widely differ. He did not fail to observe the curious
equipages—carriages and palanquins, barrows supplied with sails, and
litters made of bamboo; nor the women—whom he thought not especially
handsome—who took little steps with their little feet, whereon they
wore canvas shoes, straw sandals, and clogs of worked wood, and who
displayed tight-looking eyes, flat chests, teeth fashionably blackened,
and gowns crossed with silken scarfs, tied in an enormous knot behind
an ornament which the modern Parisian ladies seem to have borrowed from
the dames of Japan.
Passepartout wandered for several hours in the midst of this motley
crowd, looking in at the windows of the rich and curious shops, the
jewellery establishments glittering with quaint Japanese ornaments, the
restaurants decked with streamers and banners, the tea-houses, where
the odorous beverage was being drunk with saki, a liquor concocted from
the fermentation of rice, and the comfortable smoking-houses, where
they were puffing, not opium, which is almost unknown in Japan, but a
very fine, stringy tobacco. He went on till he found himself in the
fields, in the midst of vast rice plantations. There he saw dazzling
camellias expanding themselves, with flowers which were giving forth
their last colours and perfumes, not on bushes, but on trees, and
within bamboo enclosures, cherry, plum, and apple trees, which the
Japanese cultivate rather for their blossoms than their fruit, and
which queerly-fashioned, grinning scarecrows protected from the
sparrows, pigeons, ravens, and other voracious birds. On the branches
of the cedars were perched large eagles; amid the foliage of the
weeping willows were herons, solemnly standing on one leg; and on every
hand were crows, ducks, hawks, wild birds, and a multitude of cranes,
which the Japanese consider sacred, and which to their minds symbolise
long life and prosperity.
As he was strolling along, Passepartout espied some violets among the
"Good!" said he; "I'll have some supper."
But, on smelling them, he found that they were odourless.
"No chance there," thought he.
The worthy fellow had certainly taken good care to eat as hearty a
breakfast as possible before leaving the Carnatic; but, as he had been
walking about all day, the demands of hunger were becoming importunate.
He observed that the butchers stalls contained neither mutton, goat,
nor pork; and, knowing also that it is a sacrilege to kill cattle,
which are preserved solely for farming, he made up his mind that meat
was far from plentiful in Yokohama—nor was he mistaken; and, in
default of butcher's meat, he could have wished for a quarter of wild
boar or deer, a partridge, or some quails, some game or fish, which,
with rice, the Japanese eat almost exclusively. But he found it
necessary to keep up a stout heart, and to postpone the meal he craved
till the following morning. Night came, and Passepartout re-entered
the native quarter, where he wandered through the streets, lit by
vari-coloured lanterns, looking on at the dancers, who were executing
skilful steps and boundings, and the astrologers who stood in the open
air with their telescopes. Then he came to the harbour, which was lit
up by the resin torches of the fishermen, who were fishing from their
The streets at last became quiet, and the patrol, the officers of
which, in their splendid costumes, and surrounded by their suites,
Passepartout thought seemed like ambassadors, succeeded the bustling
crowd. Each time a company passed, Passepartout chuckled, and said to
himself: "Good! another Japanese embassy departing for Europe!"