at Fix's manoeuvres, went about his usual errands.

The island of Singapore is not imposing in aspect, for there are
no mountains; yet its appearance is not without attractions.
It is a park checkered by pleasant highways and avenues.
A handsome carriage, drawn by a sleek pair of New Holland horses,
carried Phileas Fogg and Aouda into the midst of rows of palms
with brilliant foliage, and of clove-trees, whereof the cloves
form the heart of a half-open flower. Pepper plants replaced
the prickly hedges of European fields; sago-bushes, large ferns
with gorgeous branches, varied the aspect of this tropical clime;
while nutmeg-trees in full foliage filled the air with a penetrating perfume.
Agile and grinning bands of monkeys skipped about in the trees, nor were tigers
wanting in the jungles.

After a drive of two hours through the country, Aouda and Mr. Fogg
returned to the town, which is a vast collection of heavy-looking,
irregular houses, surrounded by charming gardens rich in tropical fruits
and plants; and at ten o'clock they re-embarked, closely followed by
the detective, who had kept them constantly in sight.

Passepartout, who had been purchasing several dozen mangoes--
a fruit as large as good-sized apples, of a dark-brown colour
outside and a bright red within, and whose white pulp, melting in
the mouth, affords gourmands a delicious sensation--was waiting
for them on deck. He was only too glad to offer some mangoes
to Aouda, who thanked him very gracefully for them.

At eleven o'clock the Rangoon rode out of Singapore harbour,
and in a few hours the high mountains of Malacca, with their forests,
inhabited by the most beautifully-furred tigers in the world,
were lost to view. Singapore is distant some thirteen hundred miles
from the island of Hong Kong, which is a little English colony
near the Chinese coast. Phileas Fogg hoped to accomplish the journey
in six days, so as to be in time for the steamer which would leave
on the 6th of November for Yokohama, the principal Japanese port.

The Rangoon had a large quota of passengers, many of whom disembarked
at Singapore, among them a number of Indians, Ceylonese, Chinamen,
Malays, and Portuguese, mostly second-class travellers.

The weather, which had hitherto been fine, changed with the
last quarter of the moon. The sea rolled heavily, and the wind
at intervals rose almost to a storm, but happily blew from
the south-west, and thus aided the steamer's progress.
The captain as often as possible put up his sails,
and under the double action of steam and sail the vessel made
rapid progress along the coasts of Anam and Cochin China.
Owing to the defective construction of the Rangoon, however,
unusual precautions became necessary in unfavourable weather;
but the loss of time which resulted from this cause, while it
nearly drove Passepartout out of his senses, did not seem
to affect his master in the least. Passepartout blamed the captain,
the engineer, and the crew, and consigned all who were connected
with the ship to the land where the pepper grows. Perhaps the thought
of the gas, which was remorselessly burning at his expense in Saville Row,
had something to do with his hot impatience.

"You are in a great hurry, then," said Fix to him one day, "to reach Hong Kong?"

"A very great hurry!"

"Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch the steamer for Yokohama?"

"Terribly anxious."

"You believe in this journey around the world, then?"

"Absolutely. Don't you, Mr. Fix?"

"I? I don't believe a word of it."

"You're a sly dog!" said Passepartout, winking at him.

This expression rather disturbed Fix, without his knowing why.
Had the Frenchman guessed his real purpose? He knew not what
to think. But how could Passepartout have discovered that he
was a detective? Yet, in speaking as he did, the man evidently
meant more than he expressed.

Passepartout went still further the next day; he could not hold his tongue.

"Mr. Fix," said he, in a bantering tone, "shall we be so unfortunate
as to lose you when we get to Hong Kong?"

"Why," responded Fix, a little embarrassed, "I don't know; perhaps--"

"Ah, if you would only go on with us! An agent of the Peninsular Company,
you know, can't stop on the way! You were only going to Bombay,
and here you are in China. America is not far off, and from America
to Europe is only a step."

Fix looked intently at his companion, whose countenance was
as serene as possible, and laughed with him. But Passepartout
persisted in chaffing him by asking him if he made much by his
present occupation.

"Yes, and no," returned Fix; "there is good and bad luck in such things.
But you must understand that I don't travel at my own expense."



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