pes that their journey would end there;
but, now that they were plainly whirling across India at full speed, a
sudden change had come over the spirit of his dreams. His old vagabond
nature returned to him; the fantastic ideas of his youth once more took
possession of him. He came to regard his master's project as intended
in good earnest, believed in the reality of the bet, and therefore in
the tour of the world and the necessity of making it without fail
within the designated period. Already he began to worry about possible
delays, and accidents which might happen on the way. He recognised
himself as being personally interested in the wager, and trembled at
the thought that he might have been the means of losing it by his
unpardonable folly of the night before. Being much less cool-headed
than Mr. Fogg, he was much more restless, counting and recounting the
days passed over, uttering maledictions when the train stopped, and
accusing it of sluggishness, and mentally blaming Mr. Fogg for not
having bribed the engineer. The worthy fellow was ignorant that, while
it was possible by such means to hasten the rate of a steamer, it could
not be done on the railway.

The train entered the defiles of the Sutpour Mountains, which separate
the Khandeish from Bundelcund, towards evening. The next day Sir
Francis Cromarty asked Passepartout what time it was; to which, on
consulting his watch, he replied that it was three in the morning.
This famous timepiece, always regulated on the Greenwich meridian,
which was now some seventy-seven degrees westward, was at least four
hours slow. Sir Francis corrected Passepartout's time, whereupon the
latter made the same remark that he had done to Fix; and upon the
general insisting that the watch should be regulated in each new
meridian, since he was constantly going eastward, that is in the face
of the sun, and therefore the days were shorter by four minutes for
each degree gone over, Passepartout obstinately refused to alter his
watch, which he kept at London time. It was an innocent delusion which
could harm no one.

The train stopped, at eight o'clock, in the midst of a glade some
fifteen miles beyond Rothal, where there were several bungalows, and
workmen's cabins. The conductor, passing along the carriages, shouted,
"Passengers will get out here!"

Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an explanation; but the
general could not tell what meant a halt in the midst of