“How is he not a robber, this fellow who has abstracted fifty-five thousand pounds in bank-notes?”
“No,” replied Gauthier Ralph.
“Is he, then, a manufacturer?” said John Sullivan.
“The Morning Chronicle assures us that he is a gentleman.”
The party that made this reply was no other than Phileas Fogg, whose head then emerged from the mass of papers heaped around him. At the same time, he greeted his colleagues, who returned his salutation. The matter under discussion, and which the various journals of the United Kingdom were discussing ardently, had occurred three days before, on the 29th of September. A package of bank-notes, making the enormous sum of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been taken from the counter of the principal cashier of the Bank of England. The Under-Governor, Gauthier Ralph, only replied to anyone who was astonished that such a robbery could have been so easily accomplished, that at this very moment the cashier was occupied with registering a receipt of three shillings and sixpence, and that he could not have his eyes everywhere.
But it is proper to be remarked here—which makes the robbery less mysterious—that this admirable establishment, the Bank of England, seems to care very much for the dignity of the public. There are neither guards nor gratings; gold, silver, and bank-notes being freely exposed, and, so to speak, at the mercy of the first comer. They would not suspect the honour of anyone passing by. One of the best observers of English customs relates the following: He had the curiosity to examine closely, in one of the rooms of the bank, where he was one day, an ingot of gold, weighing seven to eight pounds, which was lying exposed on the cashier’s table; he picked up this ingot, examined it, passed it to his neighbour, and he to another, so that the ingot, passing from hand to hand, went as far as the end of a dark entry, and did not return to its place for half an hour, and the cashier had not once raised his head.
But on the twenty-ninth of September, matters did not turn out quite in this way. The package of bank-notes did not return, and when the magnificent clock, hung above the “drawing office” announced at five o’clock the closing of the office, the Bank of England had only to pass fifty-five thousand pounds to the account of profit and loss.
The robbery being duly known, agents, detectives, selected from the most skilful, were sent to the principal ports—Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez, Brindisi, New York, etc., with the promise, in case of success, of a reward of two thousand pounds and five per cent of the amount recovered. Whilst waiting for the information which the investigation, commenced immediately, ought to furnish, the detectives were charged with watching carefully all arriving and departing travellers.
As the Morning Chronicle said, there was good reason for supposing that the robber was not a member of any of the robber bands of England. During this day, the twenty-ninth of September, a well-dressed gentleman, of good manners, of a distinguished air, had been noticed going in and out of the paying room, the scene of the robbery. The investigation allowed a pretty accurate description of the gentleman to be made out, which was at once sent to all the detectives of the United Kingdom and of the Continent. Some hopeful minds, and Gauthier Ralph was one of the number, believed that they had good reason to expect that the robber would not escape.
As may be supposed, this affair was the talk of all London and throughout England.
It was discussed, and sides were taken vehemently for or against the probabilities of success of the city police. It will not be surprising, then, to hear the members of the Reform Club treating the same subject, all the more that one of the Under-Governors of the Bank was among them.
Honourable Gauthier Ralph was not willing to doubt the result of the search, considering that the reward offered ought to sharpen peculiarly the zeal and intelligence of the agents. But his colleague, Andrew Stuart, was far from sharing this confidence. The discussion continued then between the gentlemen, who were seated at a whist table, Stuart having Flanagan as a partner, and Fallentin Phileas Fogg. During the playing the parties did not speak, but between the rubbers the interrupted conversation was fully revived.
“I maintain,” said Andrew Stuart, “that the chances are in favour of the robber, who must be a skilful fellow!”
“Well,” replied Ralph, “there is not a single country where he can take refuge.”
“Pshaw!”
“Where do you suppose he might go?”
“I don’t know about that,” replied Andrew Stuart, “but after all, the world is big enough.”
“It was formerly,” said Phileas Fogg in a low tone. Then he added: “It is your turn to cut, sir,” presenting the cards to Thomas Flanagan.
The discussion was suspended during the rubber. But Andrew Stuart soon resumed it, saying:
“How, formerly? Has the world grown smaller perchance?”
“Without doubt,” replied Gauthier Ralph. “I am of the opinion of Mr Fogg. The world has grown smaller, since we can go round it now ten times quicker than one hundred years ago. And, in the case with which we are now occupied, this is what will render the search more rapid.”
“And will render more easy, also, the flight of the robber.”
“It is your turn to play, Mr Stuart,” said Phileas Fogg.
But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the hand was finished, he replied: “It must be confessed, Mr Ralph, that you have found a funny way of saying that the world has grown smaller! Because the tour of it is now made in three months—”
“In eighty days only,” said Phileas Fogg.
“Yes, gentlemen,” added John Sullivan, “eighty days, since the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the Great Indian Peninsular Railway, has been opened. Here is the calculation made by the Morning Chronicle:
| From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and | |
| Brindisi, by rail and steamers | 7 days |
| From Suez to Bombay, steamer | 13 days |
| From Bombay to Calcutta, rail | 3 days |
| From Calcutta to Hong-Kong (China) steamer | 13 days |
| From Hong-Kong to Yokohama (Japan) steamer | 6 days |
| From Yokohama to San Francisco, steamer | 22 days |
| From San Francisco to New York, rail | 7 days |
| From New York to London, steamer and rail | 9 days |
| 80 days” |
“Yes, eighty days!” exclaimed Andrew Stuart, who, by inattention, made a wrong deal, “but not including bad weather, contrary winds, shipwrecks, running off the track, etc.”
“Everything included,” replied Phileas Fogg, continuing to play, for this time the discussion no longer respected the game.
“Even if the Hindus or the Indians tear up the rails!” exclaimed Andrew Stuart, “if they stop the trains, plunder the cars, and scalp the passengers!”
“All included,” replied Phileas Fogg, who, throwing down his cards, added: “Two trumps.”
Andrew Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered up the cards, saying:
“Theoretically, you are right, Mr Fogg, but practically—”
“Practically also, Mr Stuart.”
“I would like very much to see you do it.”
“It