ir
fair companion; the former, as cool as ever, tried to defend himself
with the weapons which nature has placed at the end of every
Englishman's arm, but in vain. A big brawny fellow with a red beard,
flushed face, and broad shoulders, who seemed to be the chief of the
band, raised his clenched fist to strike Mr. Fogg, whom he would have
given a crushing blow, had not Fix rushed in and received it in his
stead. An enormous bruise immediately made its appearance under the
detective's silk hat, which was completely smashed in.

"Yankee!" exclaimed Mr. Fogg, darting a contemptuous look at the
ruffian.

"Englishman!" returned the other. "We will meet again!"

"When you please."

"What is your name?"

"Phileas Fogg. And yours?"

"Colonel Stamp Proctor."

The human tide now swept by, after overturning Fix, who speedily got
upon his feet again, though with tattered clothes. Happily, he was not
seriously hurt. His travelling overcoat was divided into two unequal
parts, and his trousers resembled those of certain Indians, which fit
less compactly than they are easy to put on. Aouda had escaped
unharmed, and Fix alone bore marks of the fray in his black and blue
bruise.

"Thanks," said Mr. Fogg to the detective, as soon as they were out of
the crowd.

"No thanks are necessary," replied. Fix; "but let us go."

"Where?"

"To a tailor's."

Such a visit was, indeed, opportune. The clothing of both Mr. Fogg and
Fix was in rags, as if they had themselves been actively engaged in the
contest between Camerfield and Mandiboy. An hour after, they were once
more suitably attired, and with Aouda returned to the International
Hotel.

Passepartout was waiting for his master, armed with half a dozen
six-barrelled revolvers. When he perceived Fix, he knit his brows; but
Aouda having, in a few words, told him of their adventure, his
countenance resumed its placid expression. Fix evidently was no longer
an enemy, but an ally; he was faithfully keeping his word.

Dinner over, the coach which was to convey the passengers and their
luggage to the station drew up to the door. As he was getting in, Mr.
Fogg said to Fix, "You have not seen this Colonel Proctor again?"

"No."

"I will come back to America to find him," said Phileas Fogg calmly.
"It would not be right for an Englishman to permit himself to be
treated in that way, without retaliating."

The detective smiled, but did not reply. It was clear that Mr. F