e hoped on.

One day the engineer came on deck and spoke anxiously to Mr. Fogg.
This consultation made Passe-partout very uneasy; he would have given
his ears to have heard what they were saying; he managed to catch a
few words, and heard his master say, "Are you sure?"

"Quite certain," replied the engineer; "you must not forget that we
have been piling up the fire ever since we left, and though we had
sufficient coal to go under easy steam to Bordeaux, we had not enough
to carry us to Liverpool at full pressure."

"I will think about it," said Mr. Fogg; and then Passe-partout
understood it all.

The coal was failing!

"If my master can get over this," he thought, "he will be a clever
fellow."

He was so agitated he could not help imparting his knowledge to Fix,
who replied, "Then you really think we are going to Liverpool?"

"Of course we are."

"You idiot!" replied the detective, shrugging his shoulders, as he
turned away.

Passe-partout would have revenged himself for this insult if he had
not reflected that the unlucky Fix was very probably disappointed and
humiliated at having followed a false scent all the way round the
world.

But what would Phileas Fogg do now? No one could say; but he himself
appeared as cool as ever, and to have decided, for he told the
engineer, the same evening, to keep the full-steam on till the coal
was exhausted.

So the _Henrietta_ proceeded at full-steam until, on the 18th, the
coals began to give out, as the engineer had foretold.

"Keep up the steam as much as possible," said Mr. Fogg.

About midday, Phileas Fogg, having taken the ship's reckoning, told
Passe-partout to release Captain Speedy. The Frenchman would rather
have unloosed a tiger, and said, as he went aft, "What an awful rage
he will be in."

A few minutes later a bomb appeared on deck. This bomb was Captain
Speedy, and looked ready to burst.

"Where are we?" was his first remark, as soon as his anger would allow
him to speak. "Where are we?" he repeated, looking round.

"Seven hundred and seventy miles from Liverpool," replied Mr. Fogg
calmly.

"Pirate!" roared Andrew Speedy.

"I requested your attendance, sir."

"You robber!"

"Sir," said Mr. Fogg, "I wish to ask you to sell me your vessel."

"Never, by all the devils!"

"Then I shall be obliged to burn her."

"Burn my ship?"

"Yes, at least the upper works, as we are in want of fuel."

"Burn my ship!" roared Captain Speedy; "why she