isoners were strangers, a bail of a thousand pounds
each would be necessary. So it would cost Mr. Fogg two thousand
pounds, if he did not put in an appearance when called upon.

"I will pay the money now," said that gentleman; and from the bag
which Passe-partout still held, he drew bank-notes for two thousand
pounds, and placed them on the clerk's desk.

"This sum will be restored to you, when you come out of prison," said
the judge. "Meantime you are free on bail."

"Come along," said Phileas Fogg to his servant.

"But I suppose they will give me back my shoes?" said Passe-partout
angrily.

They gave him back his shoes. "They have cost us pretty dearly," he
muttered, "more than one thousand pounds apiece, without counting the
inconvenience to myself;" and with the most hang-dog appearance,
Passe-partout followed his master, who had offered his arm to the
young lady. Fix was still in hopes that his prey would not abandon
such a sum as two thousand pounds; so he followed Mr. Fogg closely.

Phileas took a fly, and the whole party were driven down to the quays.
Half-a-mile from the pier the _Rangoon_ was moored, the "blue-peter"
at the mast-head. Eleven o'clock was striking, so Mr. Fogg had an hour
to spare. Fix saw him put off in a boat, with Mrs. Aouda and his
servant. The detective stamped with rage.

"The rascal!" he exclaimed; "he is going then. Two thousand pounds
sacrificed. He is as reckless as a thief. I will follow him to the end
of the world, if necessary; but at the rate he is going, the stolen
money will soon be spent."

The detective was not far wrong. In fact, since he had left London,
what with travelling expenses, "tips," the money paid for the
elephant, in fines, and in bail, Phileas Fogg had already disbursed
more than five thousand pounds, so that the percentage upon the sum
likely to be recovered by the detective (as he imagined) was growing
small by degrees and beautifully less.

CHAPTER XVI.

Fix does not at all understand what is said to him.

The _Rangoon_, one of the P. and O. Company's vessels, plying between
India, China, and Japan, was an iron screw steamer of about one
thousand seven hundred and seventy tons, with engines of four hundred
horse-power. She was as fast but not so comfortable as the _Mongolia_,
and Mrs. Aouda was scarcely as well accommodated as Phileas Fogg would
have wished. But as the voyage was only three thousand five hundred
miles, that is to say e