prompt:
Chapter: The Rangoon--one of the Peninsular and Oriental Company's boats plying
in the Chinese and Japanese seas--was a screw steamer, built of iron,
weighing about seventeen hundred and seventy tons, and with engines of
four hundred horse-power.  She was as fast, but not as well fitted up,
as the Mongolia, and Aouda was not as comfortably provided for on board
of her as Phileas Fogg could have wished.  However, the trip from
Calcutta to Hong Kong only comprised some three thousand five hundred
miles, occupying from ten to twelve days, and the young woman was not
difficult to please.

During the first days of the journey Aouda became better acquainted
with her protector, and constantly gave evidence of her deep gratitude
for what he had done.  The phlegmatic gentleman listened to her,
apparently at least, with coldness, neither his voice nor his manner
betraying the slightest emotion; but he seemed to be always on the
watch that nothing should be wanting to Aouda's comfort.  He visited
her regularly each day at certain hours, not so much to talk himself,
as to sit and hear her talk.  He treated her with the strictest
politeness, but with the precision of an automaton, the movements of
which had been arranged for this purpose.  Aouda did not quite know
what to make of him, though Passepartout had given her some hints of
his master's eccentricity, and made her smile by telling her of the
wager which was sending him round the world.  After all, she owed
Phileas Fogg her life, and she always regarded him through the exalting
medium of her gratitude.

Aouda confirmed the Parsee guide's narrative of her touching history.
She did, indeed, belong to the highest of the native races of India.
Many of the Parsee merchants have made great fortunes there by dealing
in cotton; and one of them, Sir Jametsee Jeejeebhoy, was made a baronet
by the English government.  Aouda was a relative of this great man, and
it was his cousin, Jeejeeh, whom she hoped to join at Hong Kong.
Whether she would find a protector in him she could not tell; but Mr.
Fogg essayed to calm her anxieties, and to assure her that everything
would be mathematically--he used the very word--arranged.  Aouda
fastened her great eyes, "clear as the sacred lakes of the Himalaya,"
upon him; but the intractable Fogg, as reserved as ever, did not seem
at all inclined to throw himself into this lake.

The first few days of the voyage passed prosperously, amid favourable
weather and propitious winds, and they soon came in sight of the great
Andaman, the principal of the islands in the Bay of Bengal, with its
picturesque Saddle Peak, two thousand four hundred feet high, looming
above the waters.  The steamer passed along near the shores, but the
savage Papuans, who are in the lowest scale of humanity, but are not,
as has been asserted, cannibals, did not make their appearance.

The panorama of the islands, as they steamed by them, was superb.  Vast
forests of palms, arecs, bamboo, teakwood, of the gigantic mimosa, and
tree-like ferns covered the foreground, while behind, the graceful
outlines of the mountains were traced against the sky; and along the
coasts swarmed by thousands the precious swallows whose nests furnish a
luxurious dish to the tables of the Celestial Empire.  The varied
landscape afforded by the Andaman Islands was soon passed, however, and
the Rangoon rapidly approached the Straits of Malacca, which gave
access to the China seas.

What was detective Fix, so unluckily drawn on from country to country,
doing all this while?  He had managed to embark on the Rangoon at
Calcutta without being seen by Passepartout, after leaving orders that,
if the warrant should arrive, it should be forwarded to him at Hong
Kong; and he hoped to conceal his presence to the end of the voyage.
It would have been difficult to explain why he was on board without
awakening Passepartout's suspicions, who thought him still at Bombay.
But necessity impelled him, nevertheless, to renew his acquaintance
with the worthy servant, as will be seen.

All the detective's hopes and wishes were now centred on Hong Kong; for
the steamer's stay at Singapore would be too brief to enable him to
take any steps there.  The arrest must be made at Hong Kong, or the
robber would probably escape him for ever.  Hong Kong was the last
English ground on which he would set foot; beyond, China, Japan,
America offered to Fogg an almost certain refuge.  If the warrant
should at last make its appearance at Hong Kong, Fix could arrest him
and give him into the hands of the local police, and there would be no
further trouble.  But beyond Hong Kong, a simple warrant would be of no
avail; an extradition warrant would be necessary, and that would result
in delays and obstacles, of which the rascal would take advantage to
elude justice.

Fix thought over these probabilities during the long hours which he
spent in his cabin, and kept repeating to himself, "Now, either the
warrant will be at Hong Kong, in which case I shall arrest my man, or
it will not be there; and this time it is absolutely necessary that I
should delay his departure.  I have failed at Bombay, and I have failed
at Calcutta; if I fail at Hong Kong, my reputation is lost:  Cost what
it may, I must succeed!  But how shall I prevent his departure, if that
should turn out to be my last resource?"

Fix made up his mind that, if worst came to worst, he would make a
confidant of Passepartout, and tell him what kind of a fellow his
master really was.  That Passepartout was not Fogg's accomplice, he was
very certain.  The servant, enlightened by his disclosure, and afraid
of being himself implicated in the crime, would doubtless become an
ally of the detective.  But this method was a dangerous one, only to be
employed when everything else had failed.  A word from Passepartout to
his master would ruin all.  The detective was therefore in a sore
strait.  But suddenly a new idea struck him.  The presence of Aouda on
the Rangoon, in company with Phileas Fogg, gave him new material for
reflection.

Who was this woman?  What combination of events had made her Fogg's
travelling companion?  They had evidently met somewhere between Bombay
and Calcutta; but where?  Had they met accidentally, or had Fogg gone
into the interior purposely in quest of this charming damsel?  Fix was
fairly puzzled.  He asked himself whether there had not been a wicked
elopement; and this idea so impressed itself upon his mind that he
determined to make use of the supposed intrigue.  Whether the young
woman were married or not, he would be able to create such difficulties
for Mr. Fogg at Hong Kong that he could not escape by paying any amount
of money.

But could he even wait till they reached Hong Kong?  Fogg had an
abominable way of jumping from one boat to another, and, before
anything could be effected, might get full under way again for Yokohama.

Fix decided that he must warn the English authorities, and signal the
Rangoon before her arrival.  This was easy to do, since the steamer
stopped at Singapore, whence there is a telegraphic wire to Hong Kong.
He finally resolved, moreover, before acting more positively, to
question Passepartout.  It would not be difficult to make him talk;
and, as there was no time to lose, Fix prepared to make himself known.

It was now the 30th of October, and on the following day the Rangoon
was due at Singapore.

Fix emerged from his cabin and went on deck.  Passepartout was
promenading up and down in the forward part of the steamer.  The
detective rushed forward with every appearance of extreme surprise, and
exclaimed, "You here, on the Rangoon?"

"What, Monsieur Fix, are you on board?" returned the really astonished
Passepartout, recognising his crony of the Mongolia.  "Why, I left you
at Bombay, and here you are, on the way to Hong Kong!  Are you going
round the world too?"

"No, no," replied Fix; "I shall stop at Hong Kong--at least for some
days."

"Hum!" said Passepartout, who seemed for an instant perplexed.  "But
how is it I have not seen you on board since we left Calcutta?"

"Oh, a trifle of sea-sickness--I've been staying in my berth.  The Gulf
of Bengal does not agree with me as well as the Indian Ocean.  And how
is Mr. Fogg?"

"As well and as punctual as ever, not a day behind time!  But, Monsieur
Fix, you don't know that we have a young lady with us."

"A young lady?" replied the detective, not seeming to comprehend what
was said.

Passepartout thereupon recounted Aouda's history, the affair at the
Bombay pagoda, the purchase of the elephant for two thousand pounds,
the rescue, the arrest, and sentence of the Calcutta court, and the
restoration of Mr. Fogg and himself to liberty on bail.  Fix, who was
familiar with the last events, seemed to be equally ignorant of all
that Passepartout related; and the later was charmed to find so
interested a listener.

"But does your master propose to carry this young woman to Europe?"

"Not at all.  We are simply going to place her under the protection of
one of her relatives, a rich merchant at Hong Kong."

"Nothing to be done there," said Fix to himself, concealing his
disappointment.  "A glass of gin, Mr. Passepartout?"

"Willingly, Monsieur Fix.  We must at least have a friendly glass on
board the Rangoon."

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The travelers board the Rangoon. They have to travel three thousand five hundred miles on this ship. Aouda becomes better acquainted with Fogg and is amazed by his attitude. While he is very particular about catering to her needs he behaves like automation. Fogg assures Aouda that he will find her cousin for her in Hong Kong. The first part of the voyage passed in excellent weather then they pass the Great Andaman and later the Straits of Malacca. Fix is on the boat too and his aim is to arrest Fogg in Hong Kong. He keeps thinking about that. He also thinks of telling Passepartout, that his master may be a robber. Hr goes to the deck and strikes up a conversation with Passepartout. Passepartout is a little surprised to see Fix. But, he nevertheless tells Fix about his adventures in India. Fix learns that the young woman, Aouda, will be accompanying Fogg till Hong Kong and no further.


prompt:
Chapter: The detective and Passepartout met often on deck after this interview,
though Fix was reserved, and did not attempt to induce his companion to
divulge any more facts concerning Mr. Fogg.  He caught a glimpse of
that mysterious gentleman once or twice; but Mr. Fogg usually confined
himself to the cabin, where he kept Aouda company, or, according to his
inveterate habit, took a hand at whist.

Passepartout began very seriously to conjecture what strange chance
kept Fix still on the route that his master was pursuing.  It was
really worth considering why this certainly very amiable and complacent
person, whom he had first met at Suez, had then encountered on board
the Mongolia, who disembarked at Bombay, which he announced as his
destination, and now turned up so unexpectedly on the Rangoon, was
following Mr. Fogg's tracks step by step.  What was Fix's object?
Passepartout was ready to wager his Indian shoes--which he religiously
preserved--that Fix would also leave Hong Kong at the same time with
them, and probably on the same steamer.

Passepartout might have cudgelled his brain for a century without
hitting upon the real object which the detective had in view.  He never
could have imagined that Phileas Fogg was being tracked as a robber
around the globe.  But, as it is in human nature to attempt the
solution of every mystery, Passepartout suddenly discovered an
explanation of Fix's movements, which was in truth far from
unreasonable.  Fix, he thought, could only be an agent of Mr. Fogg's
friends at the Reform Club, sent to follow him up, and to ascertain
that he really went round the world as had been agreed upon.

"It's clear!" repeated the worthy servant to himself, proud of his
shrewdness.  "He's a spy sent to keep us in view!  That isn't quite the
thing, either, to be spying Mr. Fogg, who is so honourable a man!  Ah,
gentlemen of the Reform, this shall cost you dear!"

Passepartout, enchanted with his discovery, resolved to say nothing to
his master, lest he should be justly offended at this mistrust on the
part of his adversaries.  But he determined to chaff Fix, when he had
the chance, with mysterious allusions, which, however, need not betray
his real suspicions.

During the afternoon of Wednesday, 30th October, the Rangoon entered
the Strait of Malacca, which separates the peninsula of that name from
Sumatra.  The mountainous and craggy islets intercepted the beauties of
this noble island from the view of the travellers.  The Rangoon weighed
anchor at Singapore the next day at four a.m., to receive coal, having
gained half a day on the prescribed time of her arrival.  Phileas Fogg
noted this gain in his journal, and then, accompanied by Aouda, who
betrayed a desire for a walk on shore, disembarked.

Fix, who suspected Mr. Fogg's every movement, followed them cautiously,
without being himself perceived; while Passepartout, laughing in his
sleeve at Fix's manoeuvres, went about his usual errands.

The island of Singapore is not imposing in aspect, for there are no
mountains; yet its appearance is not without attractions.  It is a park
checkered by pleasant highways and avenues.  A handsome carriage, drawn
by a sleek pair of New Holland horses, carried Phileas Fogg and Aouda
into the midst of rows of palms with brilliant foliage, and of
clove-trees, whereof the cloves form the heart of a half-open flower.
Pepper plants replaced the prickly hedges of European fields;
sago-bushes, large ferns with gorgeous branches, varied the aspect of
this tropical clime; while nutmeg-trees in full foliage filled the air
with a penetrating perfume.  Agile and grinning bands of monkeys
skipped about in the trees, nor were tigers wanting in the jungles.

After a drive of two hours through the country, Aouda and Mr. Fogg
returned to the town, which is a vast collection of heavy-looking,
irregular houses, surrounded by charming gardens rich in tropical
fruits and plants; and at ten o'clock they re-embarked, closely
followed by the detective, who had kept them constantly in sight.

Passepartout, who had been purchasing several dozen mangoes--a fruit
as large as good-sized apples, of a dark-brown colour outside and a
bright red within, and whose white pulp, melting in the mouth, affords
gourmands a delicious sensation--was waiting for them on deck.  He was
only too glad to offer some mangoes to Aouda, who thanked him very
gracefully for them.

At eleven o'clock the Rangoon rode out of Singapore harbour, and in a
few hours the high mountains of Malacca, with their forests, inhabited
by the most beautifully-furred tigers in the world, were lost to view.
Singapore is distant some thirteen hundred miles from the island of
Hong Kong, which is a little English colony near the Chinese coast.
Phileas Fogg hoped to accomplish the journey in six days, so as to be
in time for the steamer which would leave on the 6th of November for
Yokohama, the principal Japanese port.

The Rangoon had a large quota of passengers, many of whom disembarked
at Singapore, among them a number of Indians, Ceylonese, Chinamen,
Malays, and Portuguese, mostly second-class travellers.

The weather, which had hitherto been fine, changed with the last
quarter of the moon.  The sea rolled heavily, and the wind at intervals
rose almost to a storm, but happily blew from the south-west, and thus
aided the steamer's progress.  The captain as often as possible put up
his sails, and under the double action of steam and sail the vessel
made rapid progress along the coasts of Anam and Cochin China.  Owing
to the defective construction of the Rangoon, however, unusual
precautions became necessary in unfavourable weather; but the loss of
time which resulted from this cause, while it nearly drove Passepartout
out of his senses, did not seem to affect his master in the least.
Passepartout blamed the captain, the engineer, and the crew, and
consigned all who were connected with the ship to the land where the
pepper grows.  Perhaps the thought of the gas, which was remorselessly
burning at his expense in Saville Row, had something to do with his hot
impatience.

"You are in a great hurry, then," said Fix to him one day, "to reach
Hong Kong?"

"A very great hurry!"

"Mr. Fogg, I suppose, is anxious to catch the steamer for Yokohama?"

"Terribly anxious."

"You believe in this journey around the world, then?"

"Absolutely.  Don't you, Mr. Fix?"

"I?  I don't believe a word of it."

"You're a sly dog!" said Passepartout, winking at him.

This expression rather disturbed Fix, without his knowing why.  Had the
Frenchman guessed his real purpose?  He knew not what to think.  But
how could Passepartout have discovered that he was a detective?  Yet,
in speaking as he did, the man evidently meant more than he expressed.

Passepartout went still further the next day; he could not hold his
tongue.

"Mr. Fix," said he, in a bantering tone, "shall we be so unfortunate as
to lose you when we get to Hong Kong?"

"Why," responded Fix, a little embarrassed, "I don't know; perhaps--"

"Ah, if you would only go on with us!  An agent of the Peninsular
Company, you know, can't stop on the way!  You were only going to
Bombay, and here you are in China.  America is not far off, and from
America to Europe is only a step."

Fix looked intently at his companion, whose countenance was as serene
as possible, and laughed with him.  But Passepartout persisted in
chaffing him by asking him if he made much by his present occupation.

"Yes, and no," returned Fix; "there is good and bad luck in such
things.  But you must understand that I don't travel at my own expense."

"Oh, I am quite sure of that!" cried Passepartout, laughing heartily.

Fix, fairly puzzled, descended to his cabin and gave himself up to his
reflections.  He was evidently suspected; somehow or other the
Frenchman had found out that he was a detective.  But had he told his
master?  What part was he playing in all this: was he an accomplice or
not?  Was the game, then, up?  Fix spent several hours turning these
things over in his mind, sometimes thinking that all was lost, then
persuading himself that Fogg was ignorant of his presence, and then
undecided what course it was best to take.

Nevertheless, he preserved his coolness of mind, and at last resolved
to deal plainly with Passepartout.  If he did not find it practicable
to arrest Fogg at Hong Kong, and if Fogg made preparations to leave
that last foothold of English territory, he, Fix, would tell
Passepartout all.  Either the servant was the accomplice of his master,
and in this case the master knew of his operations, and he should fail;
or else the servant knew nothing about the robbery, and then his
interest would be to abandon the robber.

Such was the situation between Fix and Passepartout.  Meanwhile Phileas
Fogg moved about above them in the most majestic and unconscious
indifference.  He was passing methodically in his orbit around the
world, regardless of the lesser stars which gravitated around him.  Yet
there was near by what the astronomers would call a disturbing star,
which might have produced an agitation in this gentleman's heart.  But
no! the charms of Aouda failed to act, to Passepartout's great
surprise; and the disturbances, if they existed, would have been more
difficult to calculate than those of Uranus which led to the discovery
of Neptune.

It was every day an increasing wonder to Passepartout, who read in
Aouda's eyes the depths of her gratitude to his master.  Phileas Fogg,
though brave and gallant, must be, he thought, quite heartless.  As to
the sentiment which this journey might have awakened in him, there was
clearly no trace of such a thing; while poor Passepartout existed in
perpetual reveries.

One day he was leaning on the railing of the engine-room, and was
observing the engine, when a sudden pitch of the steamer threw the
screw out of the water.  The steam came hissing out of the valves; and
this made Passepartout indignant.

"The valves are not sufficiently charged!" he exclaimed.  "We are not
going.  Oh, these English!  If this was an American craft, we should
blow up, perhaps, but we should at all events go faster!"

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Passepartout begins to seriously reflect on the strange chance, which had once more placed Fix on the same route as his master. The valet finally concludes that Fix must be an agent sent by Fogg's fellow members of the Reform Club. Fogg goes ashore to Singapore to see the island with Aouda. They then continue their journey on the Rangoon towards Hong Kong. But this journey is not too smooth and Passepartout is very impatient. He quizzes Fix on the coincidence that Fix is always travelling with them. Fix returns to his cabin perplexed as to how he should now deal with Passepartout. Meanwhile, the valet starts noticing Aouda's love for Fogg. While Fogg always looks unperturbed. Passepartout is angry at the inefficiency of the large ship- Rangoon.


prompt:
Chapter: The weather was bad during the latter days of the voyage.  The wind,
obstinately remaining in the north-west, blew a gale, and retarded the
steamer.  The Rangoon rolled heavily and the passengers became
impatient of the long, monstrous waves which the wind raised before
their path.  A sort of tempest arose on the 3rd of November, the squall
knocking the vessel about with fury, and the waves running high.  The
Rangoon reefed all her sails, and even the rigging proved too much,
whistling and shaking amid the squall.  The steamer was forced to
proceed slowly, and the captain estimated that she would reach Hong
Kong twenty hours behind time, and more if the storm lasted.

Phileas Fogg gazed at the tempestuous sea, which seemed to be
struggling especially to delay him, with his habitual tranquillity.  He
never changed countenance for an instant, though a delay of twenty
hours, by making him too late for the Yokohama boat, would almost
inevitably cause the loss of the wager.  But this man of nerve
manifested neither impatience nor annoyance; it seemed as if the storm
were a part of his programme, and had been foreseen.  Aouda was amazed
to find him as calm as he had been from the first time she saw him.

Fix did not look at the state of things in the same light.  The storm
greatly pleased him.  His satisfaction would have been complete had the
Rangoon been forced to retreat before the violence of wind and waves.
Each delay filled him with hope, for it became more and more probable
that Fogg would be obliged to remain some days at Hong Kong; and now
the heavens themselves became his allies, with the gusts and squalls.
It mattered not that they made him sea-sick--he made no account of this
inconvenience; and, whilst his body was writhing under their effects,
his spirit bounded with hopeful exultation.

Passepartout was enraged beyond expression by the unpropitious weather.
Everything had gone so well till now!  Earth and sea had seemed to be
at his master's service; steamers and railways obeyed him; wind and
steam united to speed his journey.  Had the hour of adversity come?
Passepartout was as much excited as if the twenty thousand pounds were
to come from his own pocket.  The storm exasperated him, the gale made
him furious, and he longed to lash the obstinate sea into obedience.
Poor fellow!  Fix carefully concealed from him his own satisfaction,
for, had he betrayed it, Passepartout could scarcely have restrained
himself from personal violence.

Passepartout remained on deck as long as the tempest lasted, being
unable to remain quiet below, and taking it into his head to aid the
progress of the ship by lending a hand with the crew.  He overwhelmed
the captain, officers, and sailors, who could not help laughing at his
impatience, with all sorts of questions.  He wanted to know exactly how
long the storm was going to last; whereupon he was referred to the
barometer, which seemed to have no intention of rising.  Passepartout
shook it, but with no perceptible effect; for neither shaking nor
maledictions could prevail upon it to change its mind.

On the 4th, however, the sea became more calm, and the storm lessened
its violence; the wind veered southward, and was once more favourable.
Passepartout cleared up with the weather.  Some of the sails were
unfurled, and the Rangoon resumed its most rapid speed.  The time lost
could not, however, be regained.  Land was not signalled until five
o'clock on the morning of the 6th; the steamer was due on the 5th.
Phileas Fogg was twenty-four hours behind-hand, and the Yokohama
steamer would, of course, be missed.

The pilot went on board at six, and took his place on the bridge, to
guide the Rangoon through the channels to the port of Hong Kong.
Passepartout longed to ask him if the steamer had left for Yokohama;
but he dared not, for he wished to preserve the spark of hope, which
still remained till the last moment.  He had confided his anxiety to
Fix who--the sly rascal!--tried to console him by saying that Mr. Fogg
would be in time if he took the next boat; but this only put
Passepartout in a passion.

Mr. Fogg, bolder than his servant, did not hesitate to approach the
pilot, and tranquilly ask him if he knew when a steamer would leave
Hong Kong for Yokohama.

"At high tide to-morrow morning," answered the pilot.

"Ah!" said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any astonishment.

Passepartout, who heard what passed, would willingly have embraced the
pilot, while Fix would have been glad to twist his neck.

"What is the steamer's name?" asked Mr. Fogg.

"The Carnatic."

"Ought she not to have gone yesterday?"

"Yes, sir; but they had to repair one of her boilers, and so her
departure was postponed till to-morrow."

"Thank you," returned Mr. Fogg, descending mathematically to the saloon.

Passepartout clasped the pilot's hand and shook it heartily in his
delight, exclaiming, "Pilot, you are the best of good fellows!"

The pilot probably does not know to this day why his responses won him
this enthusiastic greeting.  He remounted the bridge, and guided the
steamer through the flotilla of junks, tankas, and fishing boats which
crowd the harbour of Hong Kong.

At one o'clock the Rangoon was at the quay, and the passengers were
going ashore.

Chance had strangely favoured Phileas Fogg, for had not the Carnatic
been forced to lie over for repairing her boilers, she would have left
on the 6th of November, and the passengers for Japan would have been
obliged to await for a week the sailing of the next steamer.  Mr. Fogg
was, it is true, twenty-four hours behind his time; but this could not
seriously imperil the remainder of his tour.

The steamer which crossed the Pacific from Yokohama to San Francisco
made a direct connection with that from Hong Kong, and it could not
sail until the latter reached Yokohama; and if Mr. Fogg was twenty-four
hours late on reaching Yokohama, this time would no doubt be easily
regained in the voyage of twenty-two days across the Pacific.  He found
himself, then, about twenty-four hours behind-hand, thirty-five days
after leaving London.

The Carnatic was announced to leave Hong Kong at five the next morning.
Mr. Fogg had sixteen hours in which to attend to his business there,
which was to deposit Aouda safely with her wealthy relative.

On landing, he conducted her to a palanquin, in which they repaired to
the Club Hotel.  A room was engaged for the young woman, and Mr. Fogg,
after seeing that she wanted for nothing, set out in search of her
cousin Jeejeeh.  He instructed Passepartout to remain at the hotel
until his return, that Aouda might not be left entirely alone.

Mr. Fogg repaired to the Exchange, where, he did not doubt, every one
would know so wealthy and considerable a personage as the Parsee
merchant.  Meeting a broker, he made the inquiry, to learn that Jeejeeh
had left China two years before, and, retiring from business with an
immense fortune, had taken up his residence in Europe--in Holland the
broker thought, with the merchants of which country he had principally
traded.  Phileas Fogg returned to the hotel, begged a moment's
conversation with Aouda, and without more ado, apprised her that
Jeejeeh was no longer at Hong Kong, but probably in Holland.

Aouda at first said nothing.  She passed her hand across her forehead,
and reflected a few moments.  Then, in her sweet, soft voice, she said:
"What ought I to do, Mr. Fogg?"

"It is very simple," responded the gentleman.  "Go on to Europe."

"But I cannot intrude--"

"You do not intrude, nor do you in the least embarrass my project.
Passepartout!"

"Monsieur."

"Go to the Carnatic, and engage three cabins."

Passepartout, delighted that the young woman, who was very gracious to
him, was going to continue the journey with them, went off at a brisk
gait to obey his master's order.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The weather is rough in the latter days of the voyage to Hong Kong. Fogg remains calm, Passepartout is angry and Fix is delighted at the delay. Passepartout lends a helping hand in the ship. The Rangoon reaches Hong Kong a day later. A pilot informs Fogg that the Carnatic would leave Hong Kong for Yokohama and Fogg is pleased as he had thought that he had missed the ship. Fogg has some hours before boarding the Carnatic, so he takes Aouda to the Club Hotel in the meanwhile. He goes to look for her relative in the meanwhile but finds that the latter had left the city. It is decided then that Aouda will accompany Fogg to Europe and Passepartout is told to engage three cabins on the Carnatic.


prompt:
Chapter: Hong Kong is an island which came into the possession of the English by
the Treaty of Nankin, after the war of 1842; and the colonising genius
of the English has created upon it an important city and an excellent
port.  The island is situated at the mouth of the Canton River, and is
separated by about sixty miles from the Portuguese town of Macao, on
the opposite coast.  Hong Kong has beaten Macao in the struggle for the
Chinese trade, and now the greater part of the transportation of
Chinese goods finds its depot at the former place.  Docks, hospitals,
wharves, a Gothic cathedral, a government house, macadamised streets,
give to Hong Kong the appearance of a town in Kent or Surrey
transferred by some strange magic to the antipodes.

Passepartout wandered, with his hands in his pockets, towards the
Victoria port, gazing as he went at the curious palanquins and other
modes of conveyance, and the groups of Chinese, Japanese, and Europeans
who passed to and fro in the streets.  Hong Kong seemed to him not
unlike Bombay, Calcutta, and Singapore, since, like them, it betrayed
everywhere the evidence of English supremacy.  At the Victoria port he
found a confused mass of ships of all nations: English, French,
American, and Dutch, men-of-war and trading vessels, Japanese and
Chinese junks, sempas, tankas, and flower-boats, which formed so many
floating parterres.  Passepartout noticed in the crowd a number of the
natives who seemed very old and were dressed in yellow.  On going into
a barber's to get shaved he learned that these ancient men were all at
least eighty years old, at which age they are permitted to wear yellow,
which is the Imperial colour.  Passepartout, without exactly knowing
why, thought this very funny.

On reaching the quay where they were to embark on the Carnatic, he was
not astonished to find Fix walking up and down.  The detective seemed
very much disturbed and disappointed.

"This is bad," muttered Passepartout, "for the gentlemen of the Reform
Club!"  He accosted Fix with a merry smile, as if he had not perceived
that gentleman's chagrin.  The detective had, indeed, good reasons to
inveigh against the bad luck which pursued him.  The warrant had not
come!  It was certainly on the way, but as certainly it could not now
reach Hong Kong for several days; and, this being the last English
territory on Mr. Fogg's route, the robber would escape, unless he could
manage to detain him.

"Well, Monsieur Fix," said Passepartout, "have you decided to go with
us so far as America?"

"Yes," returned Fix, through his set teeth.

"Good!" exclaimed Passepartout, laughing heartily.  "I knew you could
not persuade yourself to separate from us.  Come and engage your berth."

They entered the steamer office and secured cabins for four persons.
The clerk, as he gave them the tickets, informed them that, the repairs
on the Carnatic having been completed, the steamer would leave that
very evening, and not next morning, as had been announced.

"That will suit my master all the better," said Passepartout.  "I will
go and let him know."

Fix now decided to make a bold move; he resolved to tell Passepartout
all.  It seemed to be the only possible means of keeping Phileas Fogg
several days longer at Hong Kong.  He accordingly invited his companion
into a tavern which caught his eye on the quay.  On entering, they
found themselves in a large room handsomely decorated, at the end of
which was a large camp-bed furnished with cushions.  Several persons
lay upon this bed in a deep sleep.  At the small tables which were
arranged about the room some thirty customers were drinking English
beer, porter, gin, and brandy; smoking, the while, long red clay pipes
stuffed with little balls of opium mingled with essence of rose.  From
time to time one of the smokers, overcome with the narcotic, would slip
under the table, whereupon the waiters, taking him by the head and
feet, carried and laid him upon the bed.  The bed already supported
twenty of these stupefied sots.

Fix and Passepartout saw that they were in a smoking-house haunted by
those wretched, cadaverous, idiotic creatures to whom the English
merchants sell every year the miserable drug called opium, to the
amount of one million four hundred thousand pounds--thousands devoted
to one of the most despicable vices which afflict humanity!  The
Chinese government has in vain attempted to deal with the evil by
stringent laws.  It passed gradually from the rich, to whom it was at
first exclusively reserved, to the lower classes, and then its ravages
could not be arrested.  Opium is smoked everywhere, at all times, by
men and women, in the Celestial Empire; and, once accustomed to it, the
victims cannot dispense with it, except by suffering horrible bodily
contortions and agonies.  A great smoker can smoke as many as eight
pipes a day; but he dies in five years.  It was in one of these dens
that Fix and Passepartout, in search of a friendly glass, found
themselves.  Passepartout had no money, but willingly accepted Fix's
invitation in the hope of returning the obligation at some future time.

They ordered two bottles of port, to which the Frenchman did ample
justice, whilst Fix observed him with close attention.  They chatted
about the journey, and Passepartout was especially merry at the idea
that Fix was going to continue it with them.  When the bottles were
empty, however, he rose to go and tell his master of the change in the
time of the sailing of the Carnatic.

Fix caught him by the arm, and said, "Wait a moment."

"What for, Mr. Fix?"

"I want to have a serious talk with you."

"A serious talk!" cried Passepartout, drinking up the little wine that
was left in the bottom of his glass.  "Well, we'll talk about it
to-morrow; I haven't time now."

"Stay!  What I have to say concerns your master."

Passepartout, at this, looked attentively at his companion.  Fix's face
seemed to have a singular expression.  He resumed his seat.

"What is it that you have to say?"

Fix placed his hand upon Passepartout's arm, and, lowering his voice,
said, "You have guessed who I am?"

"Parbleu!" said Passepartout, smiling.

"Then I'm going to tell you everything--"

"Now that I know everything, my friend!  Ah! that's very good.  But go
on, go on.  First, though, let me tell you that those gentlemen have
put themselves to a useless expense."

"Useless!" said Fix.  "You speak confidently.  It's clear that you
don't know how large the sum is."

"Of course I do," returned Passepartout.  "Twenty thousand pounds."

"Fifty-five thousand!" answered Fix, pressing his companion's hand.

"What!" cried the Frenchman.  "Has Monsieur Fogg dared--fifty-five
thousand pounds!  Well, there's all the more reason for not losing an
instant," he continued, getting up hastily.

Fix pushed Passepartout back in his chair, and resumed: "Fifty-five
thousand pounds; and if I succeed, I get two thousand pounds.  If
you'll help me, I'll let you have five hundred of them."

"Help you?" cried Passepartout, whose eyes were standing wide open.

"Yes; help me keep Mr. Fogg here for two or three days."

"Why, what are you saying?  Those gentlemen are not satisfied with
following my master and suspecting his honour, but they must try to put
obstacles in his way!  I blush for them!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it is a piece of shameful trickery.  They might as well
waylay Mr. Fogg and put his money in their pockets!"

"That's just what we count on doing."

"It's a conspiracy, then," cried Passepartout, who became more and more
excited as the liquor mounted in his head, for he drank without
perceiving it.  "A real conspiracy!  And gentlemen, too. Bah!"

Fix began to be puzzled.

"Members of the Reform Club!" continued Passepartout.  "You must know,
Monsieur Fix, that my master is an honest man, and that, when he makes
a wager, he tries to win it fairly!"

"But who do you think I am?" asked Fix, looking at him intently.

"Parbleu!  An agent of the members of the Reform Club, sent out here to
interrupt my master's journey.  But, though I found you out some time
ago, I've taken good care to say nothing about it to Mr. Fogg."

"He knows nothing, then?"

"Nothing," replied Passepartout, again emptying his glass.

The detective passed his hand across his forehead, hesitating before he
spoke again.  What should he do?  Passepartout's mistake seemed
sincere, but it made his design more difficult.  It was evident that
the servant was not the master's accomplice, as Fix had been inclined
to suspect.

"Well," said the detective to himself, "as he is not an accomplice, he
will help me."

He had no time to lose: Fogg must be detained at Hong Kong, so he
resolved to make a clean breast of it.

"Listen to me," said Fix abruptly.  "I am not, as you think, an agent
of the members of the Reform Club--"

"Bah!" retorted Passepartout, with an air of raillery.

"I am a police detective, sent out here by the London office."

"You, a detective?"

"I will prove it.  Here is my commission."

Passepartout was speechless with astonishment when Fix displayed this
document, the genuineness of which could not be doubted.

"Mr. Fogg's wager," resumed Fix, "is only a pretext, of which you and
the gentlemen of the Reform are dupes.  He had a motive for securing
your innocent complicity."

"But why?"

"Listen.  On the 28th of last September a robbery of fifty-five
thousand pounds was committed at the Bank of England by a person whose
description was fortunately secured.  Here is his description; it
answers exactly to that of Mr. Phileas Fogg."

"What nonsense!" cried Passepartout, striking the table with his fist.
"My master is the most honourable of men!"

"How can you tell?  You know scarcely anything about him.  You went
into his service the day he came away; and he came away on a foolish
pretext, without trunks, and carrying a large amount in banknotes.  And
yet you are bold enough to assert that he is an honest man!"

"Yes, yes," repeated the poor fellow, mechanically.

"Would you like to be arrested as his accomplice?"

Passepartout, overcome by what he had heard, held his head between his
hands, and did not dare to look at the detective.  Phileas Fogg, the
saviour of Aouda, that brave and generous man, a robber!  And yet how
many presumptions there were against him!  Passepartout essayed to
reject the suspicions which forced themselves upon his mind; he did not
wish to believe that his master was guilty.

"Well, what do you want of me?" said he, at last, with an effort.

"See here," replied Fix; "I have tracked Mr. Fogg to this place, but as
yet I have failed to receive the warrant of arrest for which I sent to
London.  You must help me to keep him here in Hong Kong--"

"I!  But I--"

"I will share with you the two thousand pounds reward offered by the
Bank of England."

"Never!" replied Passepartout, who tried to rise, but fell back,
exhausted in mind and body.

"Mr. Fix," he stammered, "even should what you say be true--if my
master is really the robber you are seeking for--which I deny--I have
been, am, in his service; I have seen his generosity and goodness; and
I will never betray him--not for all the gold in the world.  I come
from a village where they don't eat that kind of bread!"

"You refuse?"

"I refuse."

"Consider that I've said nothing," said Fix; "and let us drink."

"Yes; let us drink!"

Passepartout felt himself yielding more and more to the effects of the
liquor.  Fix, seeing that he must, at all hazards, be separated from
his master, wished to entirely overcome him.  Some pipes full of opium
lay upon the table.  Fix slipped one into Passepartout's hand.  He took
it, put it between his lips, lit it, drew several puffs, and his head,
becoming heavy under the influence of the narcotic, fell upon the table.

"At last!" said Fix, seeing Passepartout unconscious.  "Mr. Fogg will
not be informed of the Carnatic's departure; and, if he is, he will
have to go without this cursed Frenchman!"

And, after paying his bill, Fix left the tavern.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The island of Hong Kong is described. Passepartout goes roaming around the place. He sees Fix who looks extremely disappointed, Fix has yet not the warrant to arrest Fogg. Together, they go and engage cabins for four persons. Then Fix decides to let Passepartout in on the secret of his mission and offers him a drink. While they both talk thinking that they are referring to the same topic, in reality they are talking at two different tangents. While Fix is referring to the robbery, Passepartout is referring to the fact that Fix is an agent of the Reform Club members. Finally, Fix explains to Passepartout his real purpose, as a detective and Passepartout is shocked. The loyal valet believes not a word of Fix and is so upset that he drinks more and more. Fix gives the straightforward valet some opium too and the latter falls to the ground stupefied by the narcotic. Fix is happy that Fogg will not be informed about the hour of sailing of the Carnatic. Fix leaves the tavern.


prompt:
Chapter: While these events were passing at the opium-house, Mr. Fogg,
unconscious of the danger he was in of losing the steamer, was quietly
escorting Aouda about the streets of the English quarter, making the
necessary purchases for the long voyage before them.  It was all very
well for an Englishman like Mr. Fogg to make the tour of the world with
a carpet-bag; a lady could not be expected to travel comfortably under
such conditions.  He acquitted his task with characteristic serenity,
and invariably replied to the remonstrances of his fair companion, who
was confused by his patience and generosity:

"It is in the interest of my journey--a part of my programme."

The purchases made, they returned to the hotel, where they dined at a
sumptuously served table-d'hote; after which Aouda, shaking hands with
her protector after the English fashion, retired to her room for rest.
Mr. Fogg absorbed himself throughout the evening in the perusal of The
Times and Illustrated London News.

Had he been capable of being astonished at anything, it would have been
not to see his servant return at bedtime.  But, knowing that the
steamer was not to leave for Yokohama until the next morning, he did
not disturb himself about the matter.  When Passepartout did not appear
the next morning to answer his master's bell, Mr. Fogg, not betraying
the least vexation, contented himself with taking his carpet-bag,
calling Aouda, and sending for a palanquin.

It was then eight o'clock; at half-past nine, it being then high tide,
the Carnatic would leave the harbour.  Mr. Fogg and Aouda got into the
palanquin, their luggage being brought after on a wheelbarrow, and half
an hour later stepped upon the quay whence they were to embark.  Mr.
Fogg then learned that the Carnatic had sailed the evening before.  He
had expected to find not only the steamer, but his domestic, and was
forced to give up both; but no sign of disappointment appeared on his
face, and he merely remarked to Aouda, "It is an accident, madam;
nothing more."

At this moment a man who had been observing him attentively approached.
It was Fix, who, bowing, addressed Mr. Fogg:  "Were you not, like me,
sir, a passenger by the Rangoon, which arrived yesterday?"

"I was, sir," replied Mr. Fogg coldly.  "But I have not the honour--"

"Pardon me; I thought I should find your servant here."

"Do you know where he is, sir?" asked Aouda anxiously.

"What!" responded Fix, feigning surprise.  "Is he not with you?"

"No," said Aouda.  "He has not made his appearance since yesterday.
Could he have gone on board the Carnatic without us?"

"Without you, madam?" answered the detective.  "Excuse me, did you
intend to sail in the Carnatic?"

"Yes, sir."

"So did I, madam, and I am excessively disappointed.  The Carnatic, its
repairs being completed, left Hong Kong twelve hours before the stated
time, without any notice being given; and we must now wait a week for
another steamer."

As he said "a week" Fix felt his heart leap for joy.  Fogg detained at
Hong Kong for a week!  There would be time for the warrant to arrive,
and fortune at last favoured the representative of the law.  His horror
may be imagined when he heard Mr. Fogg say, in his placid voice, "But
there are other vessels besides the Carnatic, it seems to me, in the
harbour of Hong Kong."

And, offering his arm to Aouda, he directed his steps toward the docks
in search of some craft about to start.  Fix, stupefied, followed; it
seemed as if he were attached to Mr. Fogg by an invisible thread.
Chance, however, appeared really to have abandoned the man it had
hitherto served so well.  For three hours Phileas Fogg wandered about
the docks, with the determination, if necessary, to charter a vessel to
carry him to Yokohama; but he could only find vessels which were
loading or unloading, and which could not therefore set sail.  Fix
began to hope again.

But Mr. Fogg, far from being discouraged, was continuing his search,
resolved not to stop if he had to resort to Macao, when he was accosted
by a sailor on one of the wharves.

"Is your honour looking for a boat?"

"Have you a boat ready to sail?"

"Yes, your honour; a pilot-boat--No. 43--the best in the harbour."

"Does she go fast?"

"Between eight and nine knots the hour.  Will you look at her?"

"Yes."

"Your honour will be satisfied with her.  Is it for a sea excursion?"

"No; for a voyage."

"A voyage?"

"Yes, will you agree to take me to Yokohama?"

The sailor leaned on the railing, opened his eyes wide, and said, "Is
your honour joking?"

"No.  I have missed the Carnatic, and I must get to Yokohama by the
14th at the latest, to take the boat for San Francisco."

"I am sorry," said the sailor; "but it is impossible."

"I offer you a hundred pounds per day, and an additional reward of two
hundred pounds if I reach Yokohama in time."

"Are you in earnest?"

"Very much so."

The pilot walked away a little distance, and gazed out to sea,
evidently struggling between the anxiety to gain a large sum and the
fear of venturing so far.  Fix was in mortal suspense.

Mr. Fogg turned to Aouda and asked her, "You would not be afraid, would
you, madam?"

"Not with you, Mr. Fogg," was her answer.

The pilot now returned, shuffling his hat in his hands.

"Well, pilot?" said Mr. Fogg.

"Well, your honour," replied he, "I could not risk myself, my men, or
my little boat of scarcely twenty tons on so long a voyage at this time
of year.  Besides, we could not reach Yokohama in time, for it is
sixteen hundred and sixty miles from Hong Kong."

"Only sixteen hundred," said Mr. Fogg.

"It's the same thing."

Fix breathed more freely.

"But," added the pilot, "it might be arranged another way."

Fix ceased to breathe at all.

"How?" asked Mr. Fogg.

"By going to Nagasaki, at the extreme south of Japan, or even to
Shanghai, which is only eight hundred miles from here.  In going to
Shanghai we should not be forced to sail wide of the Chinese coast,
which would be a great advantage, as the currents run northward, and
would aid us."

"Pilot," said Mr. Fogg, "I must take the American steamer at Yokohama,
and not at Shanghai or Nagasaki."

"Why not?" returned the pilot.  "The San Francisco steamer does not
start from Yokohama.  It puts in at Yokohama and Nagasaki, but it
starts from Shanghai."

"You are sure of that?"

"Perfectly."

"And when does the boat leave Shanghai?"

"On the 11th, at seven in the evening.  We have, therefore, four days
before us, that is ninety-six hours; and in that time, if we had good
luck and a south-west wind, and the sea was calm, we could make those
eight hundred miles to Shanghai."

"And you could go--"

"In an hour; as soon as provisions could be got aboard and the sails
put up."

"It is a bargain.  Are you the master of the boat?"

"Yes; John Bunsby, master of the Tankadere."

"Would you like some earnest-money?"

"If it would not put your honour out--"

"Here are two hundred pounds on account sir," added Phileas Fogg,
turning to Fix, "if you would like to take advantage--"

"Thanks, sir; I was about to ask the favour."

"Very well.  In half an hour we shall go on board."

"But poor Passepartout?" urged Aouda, who was much disturbed by the
servant's disappearance.

"I shall do all I can to find him," replied Phileas Fogg.

While Fix, in a feverish, nervous state, repaired to the pilot-boat,
the others directed their course to the police-station at Hong Kong.
Phileas Fogg there gave Passepartout's description, and left a sum of
money to be spent in the search for him.  The same formalities having
been gone through at the French consulate, and the palanquin having
stopped at the hotel for the luggage, which had been sent back there,
they returned to the wharf.

It was now three o'clock; and pilot-boat No. 43, with its crew on
board, and its provisions stored away, was ready for departure.

The Tankadere was a neat little craft of twenty tons, as gracefully
built as if she were a racing yacht.  Her shining copper sheathing, her
galvanised iron-work, her deck, white as ivory, betrayed the pride
taken by John Bunsby in making her presentable.  Her two masts leaned a
trifle backward; she carried brigantine, foresail, storm-jib, and
standing-jib, and was well rigged for running before the wind; and she
seemed capable of brisk speed, which, indeed, she had already proved by
gaining several prizes in pilot-boat races.  The crew of the Tankadere
was composed of John Bunsby, the master, and four hardy mariners, who
were familiar with the Chinese seas.  John Bunsby, himself, a man of
forty-five or thereabouts, vigorous, sunburnt, with a sprightly
expression of the eye, and energetic and self-reliant countenance,
would have inspired confidence in the most timid.

Phileas Fogg and Aouda went on board, where they found Fix already
installed.  Below deck was a square cabin, of which the walls bulged
out in the form of cots, above a circular divan; in the centre was a
table provided with a swinging lamp.  The accommodation was confined,
but neat.

"I am sorry to have nothing better to offer you," said Mr. Fogg to Fix,
who bowed without responding.

The detective had a feeling akin to humiliation in profiting by the
kindness of Mr. Fogg.

"It's certain," thought he, "though rascal as he is, he is a polite
one!"

The sails and the English flag were hoisted at ten minutes past three.
Mr. Fogg and Aouda, who were seated on deck, cast a last glance at the
quay, in the hope of espying Passepartout.  Fix was not without his
fears lest chance should direct the steps of the unfortunate servant,
whom he had so badly treated, in this direction; in which case an
explanation the reverse of satisfactory to the detective must have
ensued.  But the Frenchman did not appear, and, without doubt, was
still lying under the stupefying influence of the opium.

John Bunsby, master, at length gave the order to start, and the
Tankadere, taking the wind under her brigantine, foresail, and
standing-jib, bounded briskly forward over the waves.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: After describing Passepartout's activities in Hong Kong, in this chapter, the fate of Fogg and Aouda is delineated. As Aouda was to travel with Fogg to Europe, many purchases had to be made for her. Fogg accompanies her for shopping at Hong Kong and Aouda is grateful. Then they retire comfortably to their hotel rooms and the next day they reach the dockyard in order to board the Carnatic. But, to their disappointment they learn that the ship has already left. Fix meets them and inquires about their servant as well as about the fact that they have missed the ship. He is happy that Fogg is delayed but Fogg being the determined man he is, he manages to find a ship called Tankadere that can take them to Shanghai. The trustworthy John Bunsby pilots the ship and Fogg is kind enough to ask detective Fix to take a seat in this hired ship as well. Fix agrees and the group leaves Hong Kong on the ship, with the destination of Shanghai in mind.


prompt:
Chapter: This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture on a craft of
twenty tons, and at that season of the year.  The Chinese seas are
usually boisterous, subject to terrible gales of wind, and especially
during the equinoxes; and it was now early November.

It would clearly have been to the master's advantage to carry his
passengers to Yokohama, since he was paid a certain sum per day; but he
would have been rash to attempt such a voyage, and it was imprudent
even to attempt to reach Shanghai.  But John Bunsby believed in the
Tankadere, which rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps he was
not wrong.

Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels of Hong
Kong, and the Tankadere, impelled by favourable winds, conducted
herself admirably.

"I do not need, pilot," said Phileas Fogg, when they got into the open
sea, "to advise you to use all possible speed."

"Trust me, your honour.  We are carrying all the sail the wind will let
us.  The poles would add nothing, and are only used when we are going
into port."

"It's your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you."

Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wide apart, standing like a
sailor, gazed without staggering at the swelling waters.  The young
woman, who was seated aft, was profoundly affected as she looked out
upon the ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she had
ventured in so frail a vessel.  Above her head rustled the white sails,
which seemed like great white wings.  The boat, carried forward by the
wind, seemed to be flying in the air.

Night came.  The moon was entering her first quarter, and her
insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon.
Clouds were rising from the east, and already overcast a part of the
heavens.

The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary in these
seas crowded with vessels bound landward; for collisions are not
uncommon occurrences, and, at the speed she was going, the least shock
would shatter the gallant little craft.

Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation.  He kept apart
from his fellow-travellers, knowing Mr. Fogg's taciturn tastes;
besides, he did not quite like to talk to the man whose favours he had
accepted.  He was thinking, too, of the future.  It seemed certain that
Fogg would not stop at Yokohama, but would at once take the boat for
San Francisco; and the vast extent of America would ensure him impunity
and safety.  Fogg's plan appeared to him the simplest in the world.
Instead of sailing directly from England to the United States, like a
common villain, he had traversed three quarters of the globe, so as to
gain the American continent more surely; and there, after throwing the
police off his track, he would quietly enjoy himself with the fortune
stolen from the bank.  But, once in the United States, what should he,
Fix, do?  Should he abandon this man?  No, a hundred times no!  Until
he had secured his extradition, he would not lose sight of him for an
hour.  It was his duty, and he would fulfil it to the end.  At all
events, there was one thing to be thankful for; Passepartout was not
with his master; and it was above all important, after the confidences
Fix had imparted to him, that the servant should never have speech with
his master.

Phileas Fogg was also thinking of Passepartout, who had so strangely
disappeared.  Looking at the matter from every point of view, it did
not seem to him impossible that, by some mistake, the man might have
embarked on the Carnatic at the last moment; and this was also Aouda's
opinion, who regretted very much the loss of the worthy fellow to whom
she owed so much.  They might then find him at Yokohama; for, if the
Carnatic was carrying him thither, it would be easy to ascertain if he
had been on board.

A brisk breeze arose about ten o'clock; but, though it might have been
prudent to take in a reef, the pilot, after carefully examining the
heavens, let the craft remain rigged as before.  The Tankadere bore
sail admirably, as she drew a great deal of water, and everything was
prepared for high speed in case of a gale.

Mr. Fogg and Aouda descended into the cabin at midnight, having been
already preceded by Fix, who had lain down on one of the cots.  The
pilot and crew remained on deck all night.

At sunrise the next day, which was 8th November, the boat had made more
than one hundred miles.  The log indicated a mean speed of between
eight and nine miles.  The Tankadere still carried all sail, and was
accomplishing her greatest capacity of speed.  If the wind held as it
was, the chances would be in her favour.  During the day she kept along
the coast, where the currents were favourable; the coast, irregular in
profile, and visible sometimes across the clearings, was at most five
miles distant.  The sea was less boisterous, since the wind came off
land--a fortunate circumstance for the boat, which would suffer, owing
to its small tonnage, by a heavy surge on the sea.

The breeze subsided a little towards noon, and set in from the
south-west.  The pilot put up his poles, but took them down again
within two hours, as the wind freshened up anew.

Mr. Fogg and Aouda, happily unaffected by the roughness of the sea, ate
with a good appetite, Fix being invited to share their repast, which he
accepted with secret chagrin.  To travel at this man's expense and live
upon his provisions was not palatable to him.  Still, he was obliged to
eat, and so he ate.

When the meal was over, he took Mr. Fogg apart, and said, "sir"--this
"sir" scorched his lips, and he had to control himself to avoid
collaring this "gentleman"--"sir, you have been very kind to give me a
passage on this boat.  But, though my means will not admit of my
expending them as freely as you, I must ask to pay my share--"

"Let us not speak of that, sir," replied Mr. Fogg.

"But, if I insist--"

"No, sir," repeated Mr. Fogg, in a tone which did not admit of a reply.
"This enters into my general expenses."

Fix, as he bowed, had a stifled feeling, and, going forward, where he
ensconced himself, did not open his mouth for the rest of the day.

Meanwhile they were progressing famously, and John Bunsby was in high
hope.  He several times assured Mr. Fogg that they would reach Shanghai
in time; to which that gentleman responded that he counted upon it.
The crew set to work in good earnest, inspired by the reward to be
gained.  There was not a sheet which was not tightened, not a sail which
was not vigorously hoisted; not a lurch could be charged to the man at
the helm.  They worked as desperately as if they were contesting in a
Royal yacht regatta.

By evening, the log showed that two hundred and twenty miles had been
accomplished from Hong Kong, and Mr. Fogg might hope that he would be
able to reach Yokohama without recording any delay in his journal; in
which case, the many misadventures which had overtaken him since he
left London would not seriously affect his journey.

The Tankadere entered the Straits of Fo-Kien, which separate the island
of Formosa from the Chinese coast, in the small hours of the night, and
crossed the Tropic of Cancer.  The sea was very rough in the straits,
full of eddies formed by the counter-currents, and the chopping waves
broke her course, whilst it became very difficult to stand on deck.

At daybreak the wind began to blow hard again, and the heavens seemed
to predict a gale.  The barometer announced a speedy change, the
mercury rising and falling capriciously; the sea also, in the
south-east, raised long surges which indicated a tempest.  The sun had
set the evening before in a red mist, in the midst of the
phosphorescent scintillations of the ocean.

John Bunsby long examined the threatening aspect of the heavens,
muttering indistinctly between his teeth.  At last he said in a low
voice to Mr. Fogg, "Shall I speak out to your honour?"

"Of course."

"Well, we are going to have a squall."

"Is the wind north or south?" asked Mr. Fogg quietly.

"South.  Look! a typhoon is coming up."

"Glad it's a typhoon from the south, for it will carry us forward."

"Oh, if you take it that way," said John Bunsby, "I've nothing more to
say." John Bunsby's suspicions were confirmed.  At a less advanced
season of the year the typhoon, according to a famous meteorologist,
would have passed away like a luminous cascade of electric flame; but
in the winter equinox it was to be feared that it would burst upon them
with great violence.

The pilot took his precautions in advance.  He reefed all sail, the
pole-masts were dispensed with; all hands went forward to the bows.  A
single triangular sail, of strong canvas, was hoisted as a storm-jib,
so as to hold the wind from behind.  Then they waited.

John Bunsby had requested his passengers to go below; but this
imprisonment in so narrow a space, with little air, and the boat
bouncing in the gale, was far from pleasant.  Neither Mr. Fogg, Fix,
nor Aouda consented to leave the deck.

The storm of rain and wind descended upon them towards eight o'clock.
With but its bit of sail, the Tankadere was lifted like a feather by a
wind, an idea of whose violence can scarcely be given.  To compare her
speed to four times that of a locomotive going on full steam would be
below the truth.

The boat scudded thus northward during the whole day, borne on by
monstrous waves, preserving always, fortunately, a speed equal to
theirs.  Twenty times she seemed almost to be submerged by these
mountains of water which rose behind her; but the adroit management of
the pilot saved her.  The passengers were often bathed in spray, but
they submitted to it philosophically.  Fix cursed it, no doubt; but
Aouda, with her eyes fastened upon her protector, whose coolness amazed
her, showed herself worthy of him, and bravely weathered the storm.  As
for Phileas Fogg, it seemed just as if the typhoon were a part of his
programme.

Up to this time the Tankadere had always held her course to the north;
but towards evening the wind, veering three quarters, bore down from
the north-west.  The boat, now lying in the trough of the waves, shook
and rolled terribly; the sea struck her with fearful violence.  At
night the tempest increased in violence.  John Bunsby saw the approach
of darkness and the rising of the storm with dark misgivings.  He
thought awhile, and then asked his crew if it was not time to slacken
speed.  After a consultation he approached Mr. Fogg, and said, "I
think, your honour, that we should do well to make for one of the ports
on the coast."

"I think so too."

"Ah!" said the pilot.  "But which one?"

"I know of but one," returned Mr. Fogg tranquilly.

"And that is--"

"Shanghai."

The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend; he could scarcely
realise so much determination and tenacity.  Then he cried, "Well--yes!
Your honour is right.  To Shanghai!"

So the Tankadere kept steadily on her northward track.

The night was really terrible; it would be a miracle if the craft did
not founder.  Twice it could have been all over with her if the crew
had not been constantly on the watch.  Aouda was exhausted, but did not
utter a complaint.  More than once Mr. Fogg rushed to protect her from
the violence of the waves.

Day reappeared.  The tempest still raged with undiminished fury; but
the wind now returned to the south-east.  It was a favourable change,
and the Tankadere again bounded forward on this mountainous sea, though
the waves crossed each other, and imparted shocks and counter-shocks
which would have crushed a craft less solidly built.  From time to time
the coast was visible through the broken mist, but no vessel was in
sight.  The Tankadere was alone upon the sea.

There were some signs of a calm at noon, and these became more distinct
as the sun descended toward the horizon.  The tempest had been as brief
as terrific.  The passengers, thoroughly exhausted, could now eat a
little, and take some repose.

The night was comparatively quiet.  Some of the sails were again
hoisted, and the speed of the boat was very good.  The next morning at
dawn they espied the coast, and John Bunsby was able to assert that
they were not one hundred miles from Shanghai.  A hundred miles, and
only one day to traverse them!  That very evening Mr. Fogg was due at
Shanghai, if he did not wish to miss the steamer to Yokohama.  Had
there been no storm, during which several hours were lost, they would
be at this moment within thirty miles of their destination.

The wind grew decidedly calmer, and happily the sea fell with it.  All
sails were now hoisted, and at noon the Tankadere was within forty-five
miles of Shanghai.  There remained yet six hours in which to accomplish
that distance.  All on board feared that it could not be done, and
every one--Phileas Fogg, no doubt, excepted--felt his heart beat with
impatience.  The boat must keep up an average of nine miles an hour,
and the wind was becoming calmer every moment!  It was a capricious
breeze, coming from the coast, and after it passed the sea became
smooth.  Still, the Tankadere was so light, and her fine sails caught
the fickle zephyrs so well, that, with the aid of the currents John
Bunsby found himself at six o'clock not more than ten miles from the
mouth of Shanghai River.  Shanghai itself is situated at least twelve
miles up the stream.  At seven they were still three miles from
Shanghai.  The pilot swore an angry oath; the reward of two hundred
pounds was evidently on the point of escaping him.  He looked at Mr.
Fogg.  Mr. Fogg was perfectly tranquil; and yet his whole fortune was
at this moment at stake.

At this moment, also, a long black funnel, crowned with wreaths of
smoke, appeared on the edge of the waters.  It was the American
steamer, leaving for Yokohama at the appointed time.

"Confound her!" cried John Bunsby, pushing back the rudder with a
desperate jerk.

"Signal her!" said Phileas Fogg quietly.

A small brass cannon stood on the forward deck of the Tankadere, for
making signals in the fogs.  It was loaded to the muzzle; but just as
the pilot was about to apply a red-hot coal to the touchhole, Mr. Fogg
said, "Hoist your flag!"

The flag was run up at half-mast, and, this being the signal of
distress, it was hoped that the American steamer, perceiving it, would
change her course a little, so as to succour the pilot-boat.

"Fire!" said Mr. Fogg.  And the booming of the little cannon resounded
in the air.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The journey of the Tankadere is described in this chapter. Fogg asks John Bunsby to make the ship move as fast as possible. Fix in the meanwhile was worrying about his next course of action. In the night the wind begins to blow and continues during the next day. Aouda and Fogg were not sea sick but Fix didnt feel too well. The ship moved well and Bunsby hoped to reach Shanghai in time. Then the ship gets caught in a gale and the wind pushes the vessel northward. Aouda and Fogg face the storm bravely. Fogg insists that they will not take the ship to port, but shall move towards Shanghai. The Tankadere remained at sea, despite the furious storm. When the ship has barely a day left, they are still a distance away from Shanghai. Everybody on board is in a state of suspense as to whether theyll reach, in time to board the next ship. When they are three miles from Shanghai, they see the American liner leaving at the appointed time. Fogg asks Bunsby to signal the ship and he lowers his flag to half- mast. They hoped that the American ship would alter her course for a moment so as to stand by the pilot boat.


prompt:
Chapter: The Carnatic, setting sail from Hong Kong at half-past six on the 7th
of November, directed her course at full steam towards Japan.  She
carried a large cargo and a well-filled cabin of passengers.  Two
state-rooms in the rear were, however, unoccupied--those which had been
engaged by Phileas Fogg.

The next day a passenger with a half-stupefied eye, staggering gait,
and disordered hair, was seen to emerge from the second cabin, and to
totter to a seat on deck.

It was Passepartout; and what had happened to him was as follows:
Shortly after Fix left the opium den, two waiters had lifted the
unconscious Passepartout, and had carried him to the bed reserved for
the smokers.  Three hours later, pursued even in his dreams by a fixed
idea, the poor fellow awoke, and struggled against the stupefying
influence of the narcotic.  The thought of a duty unfulfilled shook off
his torpor, and he hurried from the abode of drunkenness.  Staggering
and holding himself up by keeping against the walls, falling down and
creeping up again, and irresistibly impelled by a kind of instinct, he
kept crying out, "The Carnatic! the Carnatic!"

The steamer lay puffing alongside the quay, on the point of starting.
Passepartout had but few steps to go; and, rushing upon the plank, he
crossed it, and fell unconscious on the deck, just as the Carnatic was
moving off.  Several sailors, who were evidently accustomed to this
sort of scene, carried the poor Frenchman down into the second cabin,
and Passepartout did not wake until they were one hundred and fifty
miles away from China.  Thus he found himself the next morning on the
deck of the Carnatic, and eagerly inhaling the exhilarating sea-breeze.
The pure air sobered him.  He began to collect his sense, which he
found a difficult task; but at last he recalled the events of the
evening before, Fix's revelation, and the opium-house.

"It is evident," said he to himself, "that I have been abominably
drunk!  What will Mr. Fogg say?  At least I have not missed the
steamer, which is the most important thing."

Then, as Fix occurred to him: "As for that rascal, I hope we are well
rid of him, and that he has not dared, as he proposed, to follow us on
board the Carnatic.  A detective on the track of Mr. Fogg, accused of
robbing the Bank of England!  Pshaw!  Mr. Fogg is no more a robber than
I am a murderer."

Should he divulge Fix's real errand to his master?  Would it do to tell
the part the detective was playing?  Would it not be better to wait
until Mr. Fogg reached London again, and then impart to him that an
agent of the metropolitan police had been following him round the
world, and have a good laugh over it?  No doubt; at least, it was worth
considering.  The first thing to do was to find Mr. Fogg, and apologise
for his singular behaviour.

Passepartout got up and proceeded, as well as he could with the rolling
of the steamer, to the after-deck.  He saw no one who resembled either
his master or Aouda.  "Good!"  muttered he; "Aouda has not got up yet,
and Mr. Fogg has probably found some partners at whist."

He descended to the saloon.  Mr. Fogg was not there.  Passepartout had
only, however, to ask the purser the number of his master's state-room.
The purser replied that he did not know any passenger by the name of
Fogg.

"I beg your pardon," said Passepartout persistently.  "He is a tall
gentleman, quiet, and not very talkative, and has with him a young
lady--"

"There is no young lady on board," interrupted the purser.  "Here is a
list of the passengers; you may see for yourself."

Passepartout scanned the list, but his master's name was not upon it.
All at once an idea struck him.

"Ah! am I on the Carnatic?"

"Yes."

"On the way to Yokohama?"

"Certainly."

Passepartout had for an instant feared that he was on the wrong boat;
but, though he was really on the Carnatic, his master was not there.

He fell thunderstruck on a seat.  He saw it all now.  He remembered
that the time of sailing had been changed, that he should have informed
his master of that fact, and that he had not done so.  It was his
fault, then, that Mr. Fogg and Aouda had missed the steamer.  Yes, but
it was still more the fault of the traitor who, in order to separate
him from his master, and detain the latter at Hong Kong, had inveigled
him into getting drunk!  He now saw the detective's trick; and at this
moment Mr. Fogg was certainly ruined, his bet was lost, and he himself
perhaps arrested and imprisoned!  At this thought Passepartout tore his
hair.  Ah, if Fix ever came within his reach, what a settling of
accounts there would be!

After his first depression, Passepartout became calmer, and began to
study his situation.  It was certainly not an enviable one.  He found
himself on the way to Japan, and what should he do when he got there?
His pocket was empty; he had not a solitary shilling, not so much as a
penny.  His passage had fortunately been paid for in advance; and he
had five or six days in which to decide upon his future course.  He
fell to at meals with an appetite, and ate for Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and
himself.  He helped himself as generously as if Japan were a desert,
where nothing to eat was to be looked for.

At dawn on the 13th the Carnatic entered the port of Yokohama.  This is
an important port of call in the Pacific, where all the mail-steamers,
and those carrying travellers between North America, China, Japan, and
the Oriental islands put in.  It is situated in the bay of Yeddo, and
at but a short distance from that second capital of the Japanese
Empire, and the residence of the Tycoon, the civil Emperor, before the
Mikado, the spiritual Emperor, absorbed his office in his own.  The
Carnatic anchored at the quay near the custom-house, in the midst of a
crowd of ships bearing the flags of all nations.

Passepartout went timidly ashore on this so curious territory of the
Sons of the Sun.  He had nothing better to do than, taking chance for
his guide, to wander aimlessly through the streets of Yokohama.  He
found himself at first in a thoroughly European quarter, the houses
having low fronts, and being adorned with verandas, beneath which he
caught glimpses of neat peristyles.  This quarter occupied, with its
streets, squares, docks, and warehouses, all the space between the
"promontory of the Treaty" and the river.  Here, as at Hong Kong and
Calcutta, were mixed crowds of all races, Americans and English,
Chinamen and Dutchmen, mostly merchants ready to buy or sell anything.
The Frenchman felt himself as much alone among them as if he had
dropped down in the midst of Hottentots.

He had, at least, one resource,--to call on the French and English
consuls at Yokohama for assistance.  But he shrank from telling the
story of his adventures, intimately connected as it was with that of
his master; and, before doing so, he determined to exhaust all other
means of aid.  As chance did not favour him in the European quarter, he
penetrated that inhabited by the native Japanese, determined, if
necessary, to push on to Yeddo.

The Japanese quarter of Yokohama is called Benten, after the goddess of
the sea, who is worshipped on the islands round about.  There
Passepartout beheld beautiful fir and cedar groves, sacred gates of a
singular architecture, bridges half hid in the midst of bamboos and
reeds, temples shaded by immense cedar-trees, holy retreats where were
sheltered Buddhist priests and sectaries of Confucius, and interminable
streets, where a perfect harvest of rose-tinted and red-cheeked
children, who looked as if they had been cut out of Japanese screens,
and who were playing in the midst of short-legged poodles and yellowish
cats, might have been gathered.

The streets were crowded with people.  Priests were passing in
processions, beating their dreary tambourines; police and custom-house
officers with pointed hats encrusted with lac and carrying two sabres
hung to their waists; soldiers, clad in blue cotton with white stripes,
and bearing guns; the Mikado's guards, enveloped in silken doubles,
hauberks and coats of mail; and numbers of military folk of all
ranks--for the military profession is as much respected in Japan as it
is despised in China--went hither and thither in groups and pairs.
Passepartout saw, too, begging friars, long-robed pilgrims, and simple
civilians, with their warped and jet-black hair, big heads, long busts,
slender legs, short stature, and complexions varying from copper-colour
to a dead white, but never yellow, like the Chinese, from whom the
Japanese widely differ.  He did not fail to observe the curious
equipages--carriages and palanquins, barrows supplied with sails, and
litters made of bamboo; nor the women--whom he thought not especially
handsome--who took little steps with their little feet, whereon they
wore canvas shoes, straw sandals, and clogs of worked wood, and who
displayed tight-looking eyes, flat chests, teeth fashionably blackened,
and gowns crossed with silken scarfs, tied in an enormous knot behind
an ornament which the modern Parisian ladies seem to have borrowed from
the dames of Japan.

Passepartout wandered for several hours in the midst of this motley
crowd, looking in at the windows of the rich and curious shops, the
jewellery establishments glittering with quaint Japanese ornaments, the
restaurants decked with streamers and banners, the tea-houses, where
the odorous beverage was being drunk with saki, a liquor concocted from
the fermentation of rice, and the comfortable smoking-houses, where
they were puffing, not opium, which is almost unknown in Japan, but a
very fine, stringy tobacco.  He went on till he found himself in the
fields, in the midst of vast rice plantations.  There he saw dazzling
camellias expanding themselves, with flowers which were giving forth
their last colours and perfumes, not on bushes, but on trees, and
within bamboo enclosures, cherry, plum, and apple trees, which the
Japanese cultivate rather for their blossoms than their fruit, and
which queerly-fashioned, grinning scarecrows protected from the
sparrows, pigeons, ravens, and other voracious birds.  On the branches
of the cedars were perched large eagles; amid the foliage of the
weeping willows were herons, solemnly standing on one leg; and on every
hand were crows, ducks, hawks, wild birds, and a multitude of cranes,
which the Japanese consider sacred, and which to their minds symbolise
long life and prosperity.

As he was strolling along, Passepartout espied some violets among the
shrubs.

"Good!" said he; "I'll have some supper."

But, on smelling them, he found that they were odourless.

"No chance there," thought he.

The worthy fellow had certainly taken good care to eat as hearty a
breakfast as possible before leaving the Carnatic; but, as he had been
walking about all day, the demands of hunger were becoming importunate.
He observed that the butchers stalls contained neither mutton, goat,
nor pork; and, knowing also that it is a sacrilege to kill cattle,
which are preserved solely for farming, he made up his mind that meat
was far from plentiful in Yokohama--nor was he mistaken; and, in
default of butcher's meat, he could have wished for a quarter of wild
boar or deer, a partridge, or some quails, some game or fish, which,
with rice, the Japanese eat almost exclusively.  But he found it
necessary to keep up a stout heart, and to postpone the meal he craved
till the following morning.  Night came, and Passepartout re-entered
the native quarter, where he wandered through the streets, lit by
vari-coloured lanterns, looking on at the dancers, who were executing
skilful steps and boundings, and the astrologers who stood in the open
air with their telescopes.  Then he came to the harbour, which was lit
up by the resin torches of the fishermen, who were fishing from their
boats.

The streets at last became quiet, and the patrol, the officers of
which, in their splendid costumes, and surrounded by their suites,
Passepartout thought seemed like ambassadors, succeeded the bustling
crowd.  Each time a company passed, Passepartout chuckled, and said to
himself: "Good! another Japanese embassy departing for Europe!"

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: In this chapter the focus shifts from what happens on the Tankadere to what happens on the Carnatic. Passepartout had managed to board the Carnatic in spite of his opium intoxication. He goes looking for Fogg on the ship but does not find either his master or Aouda. He starts feeling very angry about Fix for acting so deceitfully and for making him drunk. Passepartout reaches Yokohama on the 13 th and not having anything better to do once he was there, he starts to walk about aimlessly on the street. He felt completely stranded. After roaming the European quarter of the city, he moves to the Japanese quarter. This quarter is described quaintly. Passepartout reached the countryside as well and by now he was very hungry. When night came, he went back to the native part of the city and strolled about for some hours there. He saw yakoonins- Japanese officers and laughed inwardly at them.


prompt:
Chapter: The next morning poor, jaded, famished Passepartout said to himself
that he must get something to eat at all hazards, and the sooner he did
so the better.  He might, indeed, sell his watch; but he would have
starved first.  Now or never he must use the strong, if not melodious
voice which nature had bestowed upon him.  He knew several French and
English songs, and resolved to try them upon the Japanese, who must be
lovers of music, since they were for ever pounding on their cymbals,
tam-tams, and tambourines, and could not but appreciate European talent.

It was, perhaps, rather early in the morning to get up a concert, and
the audience prematurely aroused from their slumbers, might not
possibly pay their entertainer with coin bearing the Mikado's features.
Passepartout therefore decided to wait several hours; and, as he was
sauntering along, it occurred to him that he would seem rather too well
dressed for a wandering artist.  The idea struck him to change his
garments for clothes more in harmony with his project; by which he
might also get a little money to satisfy the immediate cravings of
hunger.  The resolution taken, it remained to carry it out.

It was only after a long search that Passepartout discovered a native
dealer in old clothes, to whom he applied for an exchange.  The man
liked the European costume, and ere long Passepartout issued from his
shop accoutred in an old Japanese coat, and a sort of one-sided turban,
faded with long use.  A few small pieces of silver, moreover, jingled
in his pocket.

"Good!" thought he.  "I will imagine I am at the Carnival!"

His first care, after being thus "Japanesed," was to enter a tea-house
of modest appearance, and, upon half a bird and a little rice, to
breakfast like a man for whom dinner was as yet a problem to be solved.

"Now," thought he, when he had eaten heartily, "I mustn't lose my head.
I can't sell this costume again for one still more Japanese.  I must
consider how to leave this country of the Sun, of which I shall not
retain the most delightful of memories, as quickly as possible."

It occurred to him to visit the steamers which were about to leave for
America.  He would offer himself as a cook or servant, in payment of
his passage and meals.  Once at San Francisco, he would find some means
of going on.  The difficulty was, how to traverse the four thousand
seven hundred miles of the Pacific which lay between Japan and the New
World.

Passepartout was not the man to let an idea go begging, and directed
his steps towards the docks.  But, as he approached them, his project,
which at first had seemed so simple, began to grow more and more
formidable to his mind.  What need would they have of a cook or servant
on an American steamer, and what confidence would they put in him,
dressed as he was?  What references could he give?

As he was reflecting in this wise, his eyes fell upon an immense
placard which a sort of clown was carrying through the streets.  This
placard, which was in English, read as follows:

          ACROBATIC JAPANESE TROUPE,
   HONOURABLE WILLIAM BATULCAR, PROPRIETOR,
           LAST REPRESENTATIONS,
PRIOR TO THEIR DEPARTURE TO THE UNITED STATES,
                  OF THE
        LONG NOSES!   LONG NOSES!
UNDER THE DIRECT PATRONAGE OF THE GOD TINGOU!
           GREAT ATTRACTION!

"The United States!" said Passepartout; "that's just what I want!"

He followed the clown, and soon found himself once more in the Japanese
quarter.  A quarter of an hour later he stopped before a large cabin,
adorned with several clusters of streamers, the exterior walls of which
were designed to represent, in violent colours and without perspective,
a company of jugglers.

This was the Honourable William Batulcar's establishment.  That
gentleman was a sort of Barnum, the director of a troupe of
mountebanks, jugglers, clowns, acrobats, equilibrists, and gymnasts,
who, according to the placard, was giving his last performances before
leaving the Empire of the Sun for the States of the Union.

Passepartout entered and asked for Mr. Batulcar, who straightway
appeared in person.

"What do you want?" said he to Passepartout, whom he at first took for
a native.

"Would you like a servant, sir?" asked Passepartout.

"A servant!" cried Mr. Batulcar, caressing the thick grey beard which
hung from his chin.  "I already have two who are obedient and faithful,
have never left me, and serve me for their nourishment and here they
are," added he, holding out his two robust arms, furrowed with veins as
large as the strings of a bass-viol.

"So I can be of no use to you?"

"None."

"The devil!  I should so like to cross the Pacific with you!"

"Ah!" said the Honourable Mr. Batulcar.  "You are no more a Japanese
than I am a monkey!  Who are you dressed up in that way?"

"A man dresses as he can."

"That's true.  You are a Frenchman, aren't you?"

"Yes; a Parisian of Paris."

"Then you ought to know how to make grimaces?"

"Why," replied Passepartout, a little vexed that his nationality should
cause this question, "we Frenchmen know how to make grimaces, it is
true but not any better than the Americans do."

"True.  Well, if I can't take you as a servant, I can as a clown.  You
see, my friend, in France they exhibit foreign clowns, and in foreign
parts French clowns."

"Ah!"

"You are pretty strong, eh?"

"Especially after a good meal."

"And you can sing?"

"Yes," returned Passepartout, who had formerly been wont to sing in the
streets.

"But can you sing standing on your head, with a top spinning on your
left foot, and a sabre balanced on your right?"

"Humph!  I think so," replied Passepartout, recalling the exercises of
his younger days.

"Well, that's enough," said the Honourable William Batulcar.

The engagement was concluded there and then.

Passepartout had at last found something to do.  He was engaged to act
in the celebrated Japanese troupe.  It was not a very dignified
position, but within a week he would be on his way to San Francisco.

The performance, so noisily announced by the Honourable Mr. Batulcar,
was to commence at three o'clock, and soon the deafening instruments of
a Japanese orchestra resounded at the door.  Passepartout, though he
had not been able to study or rehearse a part, was designated to lend
the aid of his sturdy shoulders in the great exhibition of the "human
pyramid," executed by the Long Noses of the god Tingou.  This "great
attraction" was to close the performance.

Before three o'clock the large shed was invaded by the spectators,
comprising Europeans and natives, Chinese and Japanese, men, women and
children, who precipitated themselves upon the narrow benches and into
the boxes opposite the stage.  The musicians took up a position inside,
and were vigorously performing on their gongs, tam-tams, flutes, bones,
tambourines, and immense drums.

The performance was much like all acrobatic displays; but it must be
confessed that the Japanese are the first equilibrists in the world.

One, with a fan and some bits of paper, performed the graceful trick of
the butterflies and the flowers; another traced in the air, with the
odorous smoke of his pipe, a series of blue words, which composed a
compliment to the audience; while a third juggled with some lighted
candles, which he extinguished successively as they passed his lips,
and relit again without interrupting for an instant his juggling.
Another reproduced the most singular combinations with a spinning-top;
in his hands the revolving tops seemed to be animated with a life of
their own in their interminable whirling; they ran over pipe-stems, the
edges of sabres, wires and even hairs stretched across the stage; they
turned around on the edges of large glasses, crossed bamboo ladders,
dispersed into all the corners, and produced strange musical effects by
the combination of their various pitches of tone.  The jugglers tossed
them in the air, threw them like shuttlecocks with wooden battledores,
and yet they kept on spinning; they put them into their pockets, and
took them out still whirling as before.

It is useless to describe the astonishing performances of the acrobats
and gymnasts.  The turning on ladders, poles, balls, barrels, &c., was
executed with wonderful precision.

But the principal attraction was the exhibition of the Long Noses, a
show to which Europe is as yet a stranger.

The Long Noses form a peculiar company, under the direct patronage of
the god Tingou.  Attired after the fashion of the Middle Ages, they
bore upon their shoulders a splendid pair of wings; but what especially
distinguished them was the long noses which were fastened to their
faces, and the uses which they made of them.  These noses were made of
bamboo, and were five, six, and even ten feet long, some straight,
others curved, some ribboned, and some having imitation warts upon
them.  It was upon these appendages, fixed tightly on their real noses,
that they performed their gymnastic exercises.  A dozen of these
sectaries of Tingou lay flat upon their backs, while others, dressed to
represent lightning-rods, came and frolicked on their noses, jumping
from one to another, and performing the most skilful leapings and
somersaults.

As a last scene, a "human pyramid" had been announced, in which fifty
Long Noses were to represent the Car of Juggernaut.  But, instead of
forming a pyramid by mounting each other's shoulders, the artists were
to group themselves on top of the noses.  It happened that the
performer who had hitherto formed the base of the Car had quitted the
troupe, and as, to fill this part, only strength and adroitness were
necessary, Passepartout had been chosen to take his place.

The poor fellow really felt sad when--melancholy reminiscence of his
youth!--he donned his costume, adorned with vari-coloured wings, and
fastened to his natural feature a false nose six feet long.  But he
cheered up when he thought that this nose was winning him something to
eat.

He went upon the stage, and took his place beside the rest who were to
compose the base of the Car of Juggernaut.  They all stretched
themselves on the floor, their noses pointing to the ceiling.  A second
group of artists disposed themselves on these long appendages, then a
third above these, then a fourth, until a human monument reaching to
the very cornices of the theatre soon arose on top of the noses.  This
elicited loud applause, in the midst of which the orchestra was just
striking up a deafening air, when the pyramid tottered, the balance was
lost, one of the lower noses vanished from the pyramid, and the human
monument was shattered like a castle built of cards!

It was Passepartout's fault.  Abandoning his position, clearing the
footlights without the aid of his wings, and, clambering up to the
right-hand gallery, he fell at the feet of one of the spectators,
crying, "Ah, my master! my master!"

"You here?"

"Myself."

"Very well; then let us go to the steamer, young man!"

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout passed through the lobby of the
theatre to the outside, where they encountered the Honourable Mr.
Batulcar, furious with rage.  He demanded damages for the "breakage" of
the pyramid; and Phileas Fogg appeased him by giving him a handful of
banknotes.

At half-past six, the very hour of departure, Mr. Fogg and Aouda,
followed by Passepartout, who in his hurry had retained his wings, and
nose six feet long, stepped upon the American steamer.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The next morning Passepartout is famished and resolves that he just has to get himself something to eat. Before becoming a strolling artist, he decides to change his garments for old clothes. He gets into a Japanese robe and has a small breakfast. While moving towards the docks, he sees an immense placard carried by a sort of clown. Following the clown, he reaches Honorable Batulcars establishment, who is the manager of a troupe of buffoons, jugglers, clowns, acrobats and gymnasts. Passepartout finds employment with Batulcar as a Jack-of-all- work and he is happy because within a week, he would be on his way to San Francisco with the rest to of the troupe. He was to lend the support of his shoulders in the making of the human cluster accompanied by the Long Noses of the god Tingou. This is a part of the performance in a large hall. When it is the chance for the human cluster Passepartout takes his place at the bottom of the pyramid. But when he sees his master in the audience, he moves away and the human structure collapses. Honorable Batulcar is furious but his wrath is silenced by Fogg who throws some banknotes to him. Fogg, Aouda and Passepartout manage to board the American boat, together once again.