VI. In which Fix, the Detective, Betrays a Very Natural Impatience

by Jules Verne

　　The circumstances under which this telegraphic dispatch aboutPhileas Fogg was sent were as follows:The steamer Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company,built of iron, of two thousand eight hundred tons burden, and five hundredhorse-power, was due at eleven o'clock a.m. on Wednesday, the 9th of October,at Suez. The Mongolia plied regularly between Brindisi and Bombay viathe Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest steamers belonging to the company,always making more than ten knots an hour between Brindisi and Suez,and nine and a half between Suez and Bombay.Two men were promenading up and down the wharves, among the crowdof natives and strangers who were sojourning at this once straggling village--now, thanks to the enterprise of M. Lesseps, a fast-growing town. One wasthe British consul at Suez, who, despite the prophecies of theEnglish Government, and the unfavourable predictions of Stephenson,was in the habit of seeing, from his office window, English shipsdaily passing to and fro on the great canal, by which the old roundaboutroute from England to India by the Cape of Good Hope was abridgedby at least a half. The other was a small, slight-built personage,with a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes peering outfrom under eyebrows which he was incessantly twitching.He was just now manifesting unmistakable signs of impatience,nervously pacing up and down, and unable to stand still for a moment.This was Fix, one of the detectives who had been dispatched from Englandin search of the bank robber; it was his task to narrowly watch everypassenger who arrived at Suez, and to follow up all who seemed tobe suspicious characters, or bore a resemblance to the descriptionof the criminal, which he had received two days before from thepolice headquarters at London. The detective was evidently inspiredby the hope of obtaining the splendid reward which would be the prizeof success, and awaited with a feverish impatience, easy to understand,the arrival of the steamer Mongolia."So you say, consul," asked he for the twentieth time, "that this steameris never behind time?""No, Mr. Fix," replied the consul. "She was bespoken yesterday at Port Said,and the rest of the way is of no account to such a craft. I repeat thatthe Mongolia has been in advance of the time required by the company'sregulations, and gained the prize awarded for excess of speed.""Does she come directly from Brindisi?""Directly from Brindisi; she takes on the Indian mails there,and she left there Saturday at five p.m. Have patience, Mr. Fix;she will not be late. But really, I don't see how, from thedescription you have, you will be able to recognise your man,even if he is 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've arrested more than one of these gentlemenin my time, and, if my thief is on board, I'll answer for it;he'll not slip through my fingers.""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 socontemptible nowadays! A fellow gets hung for a handful of shillings!""Mr. Fix," said the consul, "I like your way of talking, and hopeyou'll succeed; but I fear you will find it far from easy.Don't you see, the description which you have there hasa singular resemblance to an honest man?""Consul," remarked the detective, dogmatically, "great robbersalways resemble honest folks. Fellows who have rascally faceshave only one course to take, and that is to remain honest;otherwise they would 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 was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit.Little by little the scene on the quay became more animated;sailors of various nations, merchants, ship-brokers, porters, fellahs,bustled to and fro as if the steamer were immediately expected.The weather was clear, and slightly chilly. The minarets of the townloomed 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 retainingthe 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."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 is thirteen hundredand 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 will no doubtget off at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies inAsia by some other route. He ought to know that he would not besafe an hour in India, which is English soil.""Unless," objected the consul, "he is exceptionally shrewd.An English criminal, you know, is always better concealedin 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 therobber was on board the Mongolia. If he had indeed left Londonintending to reach the New World, he would naturally take theroute via India, which was less watched and more difficultto watch than that of the Atlantic. But Fix's reflections weresoon interrupted by a succession of sharp whistles, which announcedthe arrival of the Mongolia. The porters and fellahs rusheddown the quay, and a dozen boats pushed off from the shore to goand meet the steamer. Soon her gigantic hull appeared passingalong between the banks, and eleven o'clock struck as she anchoredin the road. She brought an unusual number of passengers,some of whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panoramaof the town, while the greater part disembarked in the boats,and landed on the quay.Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each faceand figure which made its appearance. Presently one ofthe passengers, after vigorously pushing his way through theimportunate crowd of porters, came up to him and politely asked ifhe could point out the English consulate, at the same time showinga passport which he wished to have visaed. Fix instinctively tookthe passport, and with a rapid glance read the descriptionof its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise nearly escaped him,for the description in the passport was identical with that of thebank robber which he had received from Scotland Yard."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 toa 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.