he mysterious hypogea, concealed south-east from the docks, or those
fine remains of Buddhist architecture, the Kanherian grottoes of the
island of Salcette.

Having transacted his business at the passport office, Phileas Fogg
repaired quietly to the railway station, where he ordered dinner.
Among the dishes served up to him, the landlord especially recommended
a certain giblet of "native rabbit," on which he prided himself.

Mr. Fogg accordingly tasted the dish, but, despite its spiced sauce,
found it far from palatable. He rang for the landlord, and, on his
appearance, said, fixing his clear eyes upon him, "Is this rabbit, sir?"

"Yes, my lord," the rogue boldly replied, "rabbit from the jungles."

"And this rabbit did not mew when he was killed?"

"Mew, my lord! What, a rabbit mew! I swear to you--"

"Be so good, landlord, as not to swear, but remember this: cats were
formerly considered, in India, as sacred animals. That was a good
time."

"For the cats, my lord?"

"Perhaps for the travellers as well!"

After which Mr. Fogg quietly continued his dinner. Fix had gone on
shore shortly after Mr. Fogg, and his first destination was the
headquarters of the Bombay police. He made himself known as a London
detective, told his business at Bombay, and the position of affairs
relative to the supposed robber, and nervously asked if a warrant had
arrived from London. It had not reached the office; indeed, there had
not yet been time for it to arrive. Fix was sorely disappointed, and
tried to obtain an order of arrest from the director of the Bombay
police. This the director refused, as the matter concerned the London
office, which alone could legally deliver the warrant. Fix did not
insist, and was fain to resign himself to await the arrival of the
important document; but he was determined not to lose sight of the
mysterious rogue as long as he stayed in Bombay. He did not doubt for
a moment, any more than Passepartout, that Phileas Fogg would remain
there, at least until it was time for the warrant to arrive.

Passepartout, however, had no sooner heard his master's orders on
leaving the Mongolia than he saw at once that they were to leave Bombay
as they had done Suez and Paris, and that the journey would be extended
at least as far as Calcutta, and perhaps beyond that place. He began
to ask himself if this bet that Mr. Fogg talked about was not really in
good earnest, and whether his fate was not in trut