"I hope you will catch him – it is a big robbery."
"First-rate," replied Fix enthusiastically; "fifty-five thousand pounds. We don't often have such a windfall as that. These sort of fellows are becoming scarce. The family of Jack Sheppard has died out – people get 'lagged' now for a few shillings."
"You speak like an enthusiast, Mr. Fix," replied the Agent, "and I hope you will succeed, but I fear under the circumstances you will find it very difficult. Besides, after all, the description you have received might be that of a very honest man."
"Great criminals always do resemble honest men," replied the detective dogmatically. "You must understand that ruffianly-looking fellows would not have a chance. They must remain honest or they would be arrested at once. It is the honest appearance that we are obliged to unmask; it is a difficult thing, I confess, and one that really is an art."
It was evident that Mr. Fix thought a good deal of his profession.
Meanwhile the bustle on the quay increased. Sailors of all nations, merchants, porters, and fellahs were crowding together. The steamer was evidently expected shortly.
It was a beautiful day and the east wind cooled the air. The rays of the sun lighted up the distant minarets of the town. Towards the south the long jetty extended into the roadstead. A crowd of fishing-boats dotted the waters of the Red Sea, and amongst them one could perceive some ships of the ancient build of galleys.
Fix kept moving about amongst the crowd, scrutinising professionally the countenances of its component members.
It was half-past ten o'clock.
"This steamer is not coming," he said, as he heard the clock strike.
"It can't be far off," said the Consul.
"How long will she stop at Suez?" said Fix.
"Four hours, to take her coal on board. From Suez to Aden it is thirteen hundred and ten miles, so she is to take in a good supply."
"And from Suez the boat goes directly to Bombay?" asked Fix.
"Direct, without breaking bulk."
"Well," said Fix, "if the thief has taken this route, and by this steamer, it will no doubt be his little game to land at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French possessions in Asia by some other route. He must know very well that he would not be safe in India, which is British territory."
"I don't think he can be a very sharp fellow," replied the Consul, "for London is the best place to hide in, after all."
The Consul having thus given the detective something to think about, went away to his office close by. The detective, now alone, became more and more impatient, as he had some peculiar presentiment that the robber was on board the Mongolia; and if he had left England with the intention to gain the new world, the route via India, being less open to observation, or more difficult to watch than the Atlantic route, would naturally be the one chosen.
The detective was not left long to his reflections. A succession of shrill whistles denoted the approach of the steamer. The whole crowd of porters and fellahs hurried towards the quay in a manner somewhat distressing for the limbs and clothes of the lookers-on. A number of boats also put off to meet the Mongolia.
Her immense hull was soon perceived passing between the banks of the Canal, and as eleven o'clock was striking she came to an anchor in the roadstead, while a cloud of steam was blown off from her safety-valves.
There were a great number of passengers on board. Some of them remained upon the bridge, admiring the view, but the greater number came ashore in the boats, which had put off to meet the vessel.
Fix carefully examined each one as they landed. As he was thus employed, one of the passengers approached him, and vigorously pushing aside the fellahs who surrounded him, inquired of the detective the way to the British Consul's office; at the same time, the passenger produced his passport, upon which he desired, no doubt, to have the British visa.
Fix mechanically took the passport, and mastered its contents at a glance. His hand shook involuntarily. The description on the passport agreed exactly with the description of the thief.
"This passport does not belong to you?" he said to the passenger.
"No," replied the man addressed; "it is my master's."
"And where is your master?"
"He is on board."
"But," replied the detective, "he must come himself to the Consul's office to establish his identity."
"Oh, is that necessary?"
"Quite indispensable."
"Where is the office?"
"In the corner of the square yonder," replied the detective, indicating a house about two hundred paces off.
"Well then, I will go and fetch my master; but I can tell you he won't thank you for disturbing him."
So saying, the passenger saluted Fix, and returned on board the steamer.
CHAPTER VII
Which once more shows the Futility of Passports where Policemen are concerned.
The detective quickly traversed the quay once more in the direction of the Consul's office. At his particular request he was at once ushered into the presence of the official.
"I beg your pardon," he said to the Consul abruptly, "but I have great reason to believe that my man is really on board the Mongolia." And then Mr. Fix related what had passed between him and the servant.
"Good," replied the Consul; "I should not be sorry to see the rascal's face myself; but perhaps he will not present himself here if the case stands as you believe it does. No thief likes to leave a trace behind him; and moreover, the visa to the passport is not necessary."
"If he is the sharp fellow he ought to be, he will come," replied Mr. Fix.
"To have his passport examined?"
"Yes. Passports are no use, except to worry honest people and to facilitate the escape of rogues. I have no doubt whatever that this fellow's passport will be all right; but I hope you will not visé it all the same."
"Why not? If the passport is all regular I have no right to refuse my visa," replied the Consul.
"Nevertheless, I must keep the fellow here until I have received the warrant of arrest from London."
"Ah, Mr. Fix, that is your business," said the Consul; "for my part I must – "
The Consul did not conclude the sentence. At that moment a knock was heard, and the servant introduced two strangers, one of whom was the servant who had lately interviewed the detective on the quay. The newcomers were master and servant. The former handed his passport to the Consul, and laconically requested him to attach his visa.
The Consul took the passport and examined it narrowly, while Fix from a corner devoured the stranger with his eyes. When the Consul had perused the document, he said:
"You are Phileas Fogg?"
"Yes," replied that gentleman.
"And this man is your servant?"
"Yes; he is a Frenchman named Passe-partout."
"You have come from London?"
"Yes."
"And you are bound – whither?"
"To Bombay."
"Very well, sir. You are aware, perhaps, that this formality is unnecessary, even useless. We only require to see the passport."
"I know that," replied Fogg; "but I want you to testify to my presence at Suez."
"Very well, sir, so be it," replied the Consul, who thereupon attested the passport. Mr. Fogg paid the fee, and bowing formally, departed,