eed, to reach her destination considerably within that
time. The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for
India some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the
nearest route thither, now that a railway crosses the Indian peninsula.
Among the passengers was a number of officials and military officers of
various grades, the latter being either attached to the regular British
forces or commanding the Sepoy troops, and receiving high salaries ever
since the central government has assumed the powers of the East India
Company: for the sub-lieutenants get 280 pounds, brigadiers, 2,400
pounds, and generals of divisions, 4,000 pounds. What with the
military men, a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels, and
the hospitable efforts of the purser, the time passed quickly on the
Mongolia. The best of fare was spread upon the cabin tables at
breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the eight o'clock supper, and the ladies
scrupulously changed their toilets twice a day; and the hours were
whirled away, when the sea was tranquil, with music, dancing, and games.

But the Red Sea is full of caprice, and often boisterous, like most
long and narrow gulfs. When the wind came from the African or Asian
coast the Mongolia, with her long hull, rolled fearfully. Then the
ladies speedily disappeared below; the pianos were silent; singing and
dancing suddenly ceased. Yet the good ship ploughed straight on,
unretarded by wind or wave, towards the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. What
was Phileas Fogg doing all this time? It might be thought that, in his
anxiety, he would be constantly watching the changes of the wind, the
disorderly raging of the billows--every chance, in short, which might
force the Mongolia to slacken her speed, and thus interrupt his
journey. But, if he thought of these possibilities, he did not betray
the fact by any outward sign.

Always the same impassible member of the Reform Club, whom no incident
could surprise, as unvarying as the ship's chronometers, and seldom
having the curiosity even to go upon the deck, he passed through the
memorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference; did not care to
recognise the historic towns and villages which, along its borders,
raised their picturesque outlines against the sky; and betrayed no fear
of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the old historians always
spoke of with horror, and upon which the ancient navigators never
ventured without propi