As soon as the pilot boat came into sight near Shanghai, everyone on the Tankadere understood what had happened.
The captain of the Yokohama steamer had seen their signals. When he noticed the flag hanging at half-mast, he changed course and headed straight toward them.
After paying John Busby the agreed fare, Mr. Fogg gave him another £550 as a reward.
Then Fogg, Aouda, and Fix boarded the steamer.
They immediately set off for Nagasaki and Yokohama.
They reached Yokohama on the morning of November 14.
Fogg went straight to the Carnatic.
Aouda was delighted by what they learned.
Passepartout had really arrived on the ship the day before.
Fogg showed no emotion, but he wasted no time.
The steamer for San Francisco was scheduled to leave that evening.
They had to find Passepartout at once.
Fogg asked the French and English consuls for help, but neither could tell him where his servant was.
He searched the streets for a long time.
Eventually, he began to fear that they would never find him.
Then, by chance—or perhaps by some strange instinct—Fogg walked into the theater owned by the Honorable Mr. Batulcar.
Passepartout was on the stage in a ridiculous costume.
Fogg would never have recognized him like that.
But Passepartout, lying on his back, spotted his master in the gallery.
He jumped in surprise.
That sudden movement ruined the balance of the human pyramid he was part of.
The whole pyramid collapsed onto the stage.
Afterward, Aouda told Passepartout everything that had happened during the voyage from Hong Kong to Shanghai aboard the Tankadere.
She also mentioned that Fix had been with them.
Passepartout did not react when he heard the detective’s name.
He decided that the time had not yet come to tell Fogg what had happened between Fix and himself.
When Fogg asked about his disappearance, Passepartout simply said that he had become drunk after smoking opium in a tavern in Hong Kong.
Fogg listened without showing any emotion.
He said nothing.
Instead, he gave Passepartout enough money to buy proper clothes.
Within an hour, the Frenchman had removed his enormous false nose and thrown away his ridiculous wings.
Nothing remained of his strange disguise as a follower of the god Tingou.
The ship leaving Yokohama for San Francisco belonged to the Pacific Mail Steamship Company.
Her name was the General Grant.
She was a huge paddle-wheel steamer weighing about 2,500 tons.
She was fast and well equipped.
With three masts and plenty of sails, she could use wind power to strengthen her steam engines.
At twelve miles an hour, she could cross the Pacific in twenty-one days.
This gave Fogg reason to hope.
He calculated that he could reach San Francisco by December 2, New York by December 11, and London by December 20.
That would give him several hours to spare before the deadline on December 21.
The General Grant was crowded with passengers.
There were English travelers, many Americans, large numbers of Chinese workers heading to California, and several East Indian officers spending their vacation traveling around the world.
Nothing important happened during the voyage.
The great ship moved smoothly over the Pacific, and the ocean seemed to deserve its peaceful name.
Fogg remained as quiet and reserved as ever.
But Aouda was changing.
She felt more and more strongly attached to him.
It was no longer simply gratitude.
Fogg’s quiet generosity affected her deeply.
She found herself developing feelings for him without even realizing it.
Fogg, however, seemed completely unaware of what was happening in her heart.
Aouda followed his progress with great interest.
Whenever something threatened to delay the journey, she became anxious.
She often talked with Passepartout.
The faithful servant quickly understood how Aouda felt about his master.
He never missed an opportunity to praise Fogg.
“Mr. Fogg is honest, generous, and completely devoted to his promises,” he told her.
“Don’t worry, madam. The hardest part of the journey is already behind us.”
“We’ve crossed India, China, Japan, and all those strange places where everything seemed to go wrong.”
“Now we’re heading back toward familiar countries.”
“Once we reach San Francisco, we’ll take a train across America.”
“Then we’ll take a steamer from New York to Liverpool.”
“After that, we’ll be home.”
Passepartout smiled confidently.
“I’m telling you, madam, we’ll finish this impossible journey within the eighty days.”
On November 23, nine days after leaving Yokohama, the General Grant crossed the 180th meridian.
Fogg had now traveled halfway around the globe by longitude.
They were directly opposite London.
He had already used fifty-two of his eighty days.
Only twenty-eight days remained.
At first, this seemed alarming.
But the distance they had covered told a different story.
Although they were only halfway around the world by longitude, they had already completed more than two-thirds of the actual journey.
They had been forced to make enormous detours.
They had traveled from London to Aden, Aden to Bombay, Calcutta to Singapore, and Singapore to Yokohama.
If they had been able to travel straight along the fiftieth parallel, the journey would have been only about 12,000 miles.
Instead, their route required them to travel roughly 26,000 miles.
By November 23, they had already covered about 17,500 miles.
From this point onward, the route would be much more direct.
And, most importantly, Fix was no longer around to cause trouble.
That same day, Passepartout made a discovery that filled him with delight.
He had stubbornly kept his famous family watch set to London time throughout the journey.
He refused to accept the local times in the countries they visited.
He believed they were all wrong.
But now, without changing his watch at all, he discovered that it exactly matched the ship’s chronometers.
Passepartout was thrilled.
He wished Fix were there so he could see it.
“That detective told me all kinds of nonsense about meridians, the sun, and the moon!” Passepartout complained.
“The moon, indeed! More like moonshine!”
“If you listened to people like him, you’d never know what time it was.”
“I always knew the sun would eventually have to agree with my watch!”
Passepartout did not understand what had really happened.
If his watch had displayed twenty-four hours instead of twelve, he would have realized that it was actually showing nine o’clock at night, not nine o’clock in the morning.
The difference came from crossing the 180th meridian.
But even if Fix had been there to explain it, Passepartout probably would not have accepted the explanation.
And Fix was, in fact, much closer than Passepartout imagined.
Where was Fix?
He was on the General Grant.
When Fix reached Yokohama, he had immediately gone to the English consulate.
He had finally received the arrest warrant he had been waiting for.
It had followed him from Bombay and had arrived aboard the Carnatic, the very ship Fix had expected to travel on.
But his victory was now useless.
Fogg had already left British territory.
Fix could not simply arrest him in Japan.
He would need to arrange for Fogg to be extradited.
Fix was furious.
“My warrant isn’t valid here,” he thought.
“But it will be valid in England.”
“This man clearly intends to return home. He probably thinks he’s escaped the police.”
“Fine. I’ll follow him across the Atlantic.”
“Now I only have to hope there’s still some money left.”
“He’s already spent more than £5,000 on travel, rewards, legal expenses, bail, elephants, and everything else.”
“But the Bank has plenty of money.”
Fix made his decision.
He boarded the General Grant.
He was already on board when Fogg and Aouda arrived.
To his great surprise, he recognized Passepartout despite the ridiculous costume.
Fix immediately hid himself in his cabin.
He wanted to avoid an embarrassing confrontation.
With so many passengers on board, he hoped Passepartout would not notice him.
His hope did not last long.
That very day, Passepartout spotted him on the forward deck.
He said nothing.
He charged straight at Fix.
He grabbed the detective by the throat and began punching him.
A group of Americans gathered around them, laughing and even placing bets on the fight.
Passepartout gave Fix a thorough beating.
When he was finally finished, he felt much better.
Fix stood up, looking rather battered.
He calmly looked at Passepartout.
“Are you finished?”
“For now—yes.”
“Then let me talk to you.”
“But I—”
“This is about your master’s interests.”
Passepartout was surprised by Fix’s calm attitude.
He followed him.
The two men moved away from the other passengers and sat down.
“You’ve given me quite a beating,” Fix said.
“Good. I expected it.”
“Now listen to me.”
“Until now, I was Mr. Fogg’s enemy.”
“But now I’m on his side.”
Passepartout stared at him.
“So you finally believe he’s an honest man?”
“No,” Fix replied coldly.
“I still think he’s a criminal.”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
“As long as Mr. Fogg was on British territory, I wanted to keep him there until my warrant arrived.”
“I did everything I could to delay him.”
“I sent the Bombay priests after him.”
“I got you drunk in Hong Kong.”
“I separated you from your master.”
“And I caused him to miss the steamer to Yokohama.”
Passepartout clenched his fists.
Fix continued.
“Now Mr. Fogg is heading back to England.”
“So I will follow him.”
“But from now on, I will do everything I can to remove obstacles from his path.”
“I’ve changed sides because it serves my interests.”
“And your interests are the same as mine.”
“You won’t know whether you’re serving a criminal or an honest man until we reach England.”
Passepartout listened carefully.
This time, Fix seemed completely sincere.
“Are we friends?” Fix asked.
“Friends?” Passepartout snorted.
“No.”
“But perhaps we can be allies.”
He pointed a finger at Fix.
“If you betray us even once, I’ll twist your neck.”
“Agreed,” Fix replied calmly.
Eleven days later, on December 3, the General Grant entered San Francisco Bay through the Golden Gate.
The ship finally reached San Francisco.
Fogg had neither gained nor lost a single day.