# Works of Jules Verne/Round the World in Eighty Days/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH MAY COST PHILEAS FOGG DEARLY
Phileas Fogg had left his house in Saville Row at half-past eleven, and after having put his right foot before his left foot five hundred and seventy-five times, and his left foot before his right foot five hundred and seventy-six times, he arrived at the Reform Club, a spacious and lofty building in Pall Mall, which cost not less than three millions to build.
Phileas Fogg repaired immediately to the dining-room, whose nine windows opened upon a fine garden with trees already gilded by autumn. There, he took his seat at his regular table where his plate was awaiting him. His breakfast consisted of a side dish, a boiled fish with Reading sauce of first quality, a scarlet slice of roast beef garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart, and a bit of Chester cheese, the whole washed down with a few cups of that excellent tea, specially gathered for the stores of the Reform Club.
At forty-seven minutes past noon, this gentleman rose and turned his steps towards the large hall, a sumptuous ​apartment adorned with paintings in elegant frames. There a servant handed him the Times uncut, the tiresome cutting of which he managed with a steadiness of hand which denoted great practice in this difficult operation. The reading of this journal occupied Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four, and that of the Standard, which succeeded it, lasted until dinner. This repast passed off in the same way as the breakfast, with the addition of "Royal British Sauce."
At twenty minutes before six the gentleman reappeared in the large hall, and was absorbed in the reading of the Morning Chronicle.
Half an hour later various members of the Reform Club entered and came near the fire-place, in which a coal fire was burning. They were the usual partners of Phileas Fogg, like himself passionate players of whist; the engineer Andrew Stuart, the bankers John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, the brewer Thomas Flanagan, Gauthier Ralph, one of the directors of the Bank of England—rich and respected personages, even in this club counting among its members the elite of trade and finance.
"Well, Ralph," asked Thomas Flanagan, "how about that robbery?"
"Why," replied Andrew Stuart, "the bank will lose the money."
"I hope, on the contrary," said Gauthier Ralph, "that we shall put our hands on the robber. Detectives, very skillful fellows, have been sent to America and the Continent, to all the principal ports of embarkation and debarkation, and it will be difficult for this fellow to escape."
"But you have the description of the robber?" asked Andrew Stuart.
"In the first place, he is not a robber," replied Gauthier Ralph, seriously.
"How, he is 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, 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 six pence, 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 honor 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 neighbor, 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 skillful, 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 travelers.
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. 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.
The Honorable 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 favor of the robber, who must be a skillful 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 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:
"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 Hindoos 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 depends only upon you. Let us start together."
"Heaven preserve me!" exclaimed Stuart, "but I would willingly wager four thousand pounds that such a journey, made under these conditions, is impossible."
"On the contrary, quite possible," replied Mr. Fogg.
"Well, make it then!"
"The tour of the world in eighty days!"
"Yes!"
"I am willing."
"When?"
"At once. Only I warn you that I shall do it at your expense."
"It is folly!" cried Stuart, who was beginning to be vexed at the persistence of his partner. Stop! let us play rather."
"Deal again then," replied Phileas Fogg, "for there is a false deal."
Andrew Stuart took up the cards again with a feverish hand; then suddenly, placing them upon the table, he said: "Well, Mr. Fogg, yes, and I bet four thousand pounds!"
"My dear Stuart," said Fallentin, "compose yourself. It is not serious."
"When I say—'I bet,'" replied Andrew Stuart, "it is always serious."
"So be it," said Mr. Fogg, and then, turning to his companions, continued: "I have twenty thousand pounds deposited at Baring Brothers. I will willingly risk them———"
"Twenty thousand pounds!" cried John Sullivan. "Twenty thousand pounds which an unforeseen delay may make you lose!"
"The unforeseen does not exist," replied Phileas Fogg quietly.
​"But, Mr. Fogg, this period of eighty days is calculated only as a minimum of time?"
"A minimum well employed sufficies for everything," replied Mr. Fogg.
"But in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathematically from the trains into the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains!"
"I will jump mathematically."
"That is a joke!"
"A good Englishman never jokes, when so serious a matter as a wager is in question," replied Phileas Fogg. "I bet twenty thousand pounds against who will that I will make the tour of the world in eighty days or less—that is, nineteen hundred and twenty hours or one hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes. Do you accept?"
"We accept," replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and Ralph, after having consulted.
"Very well," said Mr. Fogg. ""The Dover train starts at eight forty-five. I shall take it."
"This very evening?" asked Stuart.
"This very evening," replied Phileas Fogg. Then he added, consulting a pocket almanac, "Since to-day is Wednesday, the second of October, I ought to be back in London, in this very saloon of the Reform Club, on Saturday, the twenty-first of December, at eight forty-five in the evening, in default of which the twenty thousand pounds at present deposited to my credit with Baring Brothers will belong to you, gentlemen, in fact and by right. Here is a check of like amount."
A memorandum of the wager was made and signed on the spot by the six parties in interest. Phileas Fogg had remained cool. He had certainly not bet to win, and had risked only these twenty thousand pounds—the half of his fortune—because he foresaw that he might have to expend the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say impracticable, project. As for his opponents they seemed affected, not on account of the stake, but because they had a sort of scruple against a contest under these conditions.
Seven o'clock then struck. They offered to Mr. Fogg to stop playing, so that he could make his preparations for departure.
​"I am always ready!" replied this tranquil gentleman, and dealing the cards, he said—"Diamonds are trumps. It is your turn to play, Mr. Stuart."
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