IN WHICH THE RED SEA AND THE INDIAN OCEAN PROVE PROPITIOUS TO THE DESIGNS OF PHILEAS FOGG.
The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and ten miles，and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it.TheMongolia'，thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer，seemed likely，so rapid was her speed，to reach her destination considerably within that time.The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for India-some for Bombay，others for Calcutta by way of Bombay，the nearest route thither，now that a railway crosses the Indian peninsula.Among the passengers was a number of officials and military officers of various grades，the latter being either attached to the regular British forces，or commanding the Sepoy troops and receiving high salaries ever since the central government has assumed the powers of the East India Company：for the sub-lieutenants get 280l.，brigadiers，2400l.，and generals of division，4000l.What with the military men，a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels，and the hospitable efforts of the purser，the time passed quickly on theMongolia'.The best of fare was spread upon the cabin tables at breakfast，lunch，dinner and the eight o'clock supper，and the ladies scrupulously changed their toilets twice a day；and the hours were whiled away，when the sea was tranquil，with music，dancing and games.
But the Red Sea is full of caprice，and often boisterous，like most long and narrow gulfs.When the wind came from the African or Asian coast theMongolia'，with her long hull，rolled fearfully.Then the ladies speedily disappeared below；the pianos were silent；singing and dancing suddenly ceased.Yet the good ship ploughed straight on，unretarded by wind or wave，towards the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb.What was Phileas Fogg doing all this time？It might be thought that，in his anxiety，he would be constantly watching the changes of the wind，the disorderly raging of the billows-every chance，in short，which might force theMongolia'to slacken her speed，and thus interrupt his journey.But if he thought of these possibilities，he did not betray the fact by any outward sign.
Always the same impassable member of the Reform Club，whom no incident could surprise，as unvarying as the ship's chronometers，and seldom having the curiosity even to go upon the deck，he passed through the memorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference；did not care to recognize the historic towns and villages which，along its borders，raised their picturesque outlines against the sky；and betrayed no fear of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf，which the old historians always spoke of with horror，and upon which the ancient navigators never ventured without propitiating the gods by ample sacrifices.How did this eccentric personage pass the time on theMongolia'？He made his four hearty meals every day，regardless of the most persistent rolling and pitching on the part of the steamer；and he played whist indefatigably，for he had found partners as enthusiastic in the game as himself.A tax collector，on the way to his post at Goa；the Rev Decimus Smith，returning to his parish at Bombay；and a brigadier-general of the English army，who was about to rejoin his brigade at Benares，made up the party，and，with Mr Fogg，played whist by the hour together in absorbing silence.
As for Passepartout，he，too，had escaped seasickness，and took his meals conscientiously in the forward cabin.He rather enjoyed the voyage，for he was well fed and well lodged，took a great interest in the scenes through which they were passing，and consoled himself with the delusion that his master's whim would end at Bombay.He was pleased，on the day after leaving Suez，to find on deck the obliging person with whom he had walked and chatted on the quays.
If I am not mistaken，said he，approaching this person with his most amiable smile，you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered to guide me at Suez？
Ah！I quite recognize you.You are the servant of the strange Englishman——
Just so，Monsieur——
Fix.
Monsieur Fix，resumed Passepartout，I'm charmed to find you on board.Where are you bound？
Like you，to Bombay.
That's capital！Have you made this trip before？
Several times.I am one of the agents of the Peninsula Company.
Then you know India？
Why-yes，replied Fix，who spoke cautiously.
A curious place，this India？
Oh，very curious.Mosques，minarets，temples，fakirs，pagodas，tigers，snakes，elephants！I hope you will have ample time to see the sights.
I hope so，Monsieur Fix.You see，a man of sound sense ought not to spend his life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train，and from a railway train upon a steamer again，pretending to make the tour of the world in eighty days！No；all these gymnastics，you may be sure，will cease at Bombay.
And Mr Fogg is getting on well？asked Fix，in the most natural tone in the world.
Quite well，and I too.I eat like a famished ogre；it，the sea air.
But I never see your master on deck.
Never；he hasn't the least curiosity.
Do you know，Mr Passepartout，that this pretended tour in eighty days may conceal some secret errand-perhaps a diplomatic mission？
Faith，Monsieur Fix，I assure you I know nothing about it，nor would I give half-a-crown to find out.
After this meeting，Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of chatting together，the latter making it a point to gain the worthy man's confidence.He frequently offered him a glass of whisky or pale ale in the steamer bar-room，which Passepartout never failed to accept with graceful alacrity，mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good fellows.
