prompt:
Chapter: Phileas Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half-past eleven,
and having put his right foot before his left five hundred and
seventy-five times, and his left foot before his right five hundred and
seventy-six times, reached the Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall
Mall, which could not have cost less than three millions.  He repaired
at once to the dining-room, the nine windows of which open upon a
tasteful garden, where the trees were already gilded with an autumn
colouring; and took his place at the habitual table, the cover of which
had already been laid for him.  His breakfast consisted of a side-dish,
a broiled fish with Reading sauce, a scarlet slice of roast beef
garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart, and a morsel
of Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed down with several cups of
tea, for which the Reform is famous.  He rose at thirteen minutes to
one, and directed his steps towards the large hall, a sumptuous
apartment adorned with lavishly-framed paintings.  A flunkey handed him
an uncut Times, which he proceeded to cut with a skill which betrayed
familiarity with this delicate operation.  The perusal of this paper
absorbed Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four, whilst the Standard,
his next task, occupied him till the dinner hour.  Dinner passed as
breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg re-appeared in the reading-room and
sat down to the Pall Mall at twenty minutes before six.  Half an hour
later several members of the Reform came in and drew up to the
fireplace, where a coal fire was steadily burning.  They were Mr.
Fogg's usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer; John
Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a brewer; and
Gauthier Ralph, one of the Directors of the Bank of England--all rich
and highly respectable personages, even in a club which comprises the
princes of English trade and finance.

"Well, Ralph," said Thomas Flanagan, "what about that robbery?"

"Oh," replied Stuart, "the Bank will lose the money."

"On the contrary," broke in Ralph, "I hope we may put our hands on the
robber.  Skilful detectives have been sent to all the principal ports
of America and the Continent, and he'll be a clever fellow if he slips
through their fingers."

"But have you got the robber's description?" asked Stuart.

"In the first place, he is no robber at all," returned Ralph,
positively.

"What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand pounds, no
robber?"

"No."

"Perhaps he's a manufacturer, then."

"The Daily Telegraph says that he is a gentleman."

It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from behind his newspapers,
who made this remark.  He bowed to his friends, and entered into the
conversation.  The affair which formed its subject, and which was town
talk, had occurred three days before at the Bank of England.  A package
of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been
taken from the principal cashier's table, that functionary being at the
moment engaged in registering the receipt of three shillings and
sixpence.  Of course, he could not have his eyes everywhere.  Let it be
observed that the Bank of England reposes a touching confidence in the
honesty of the public.  There are neither guards nor gratings to
protect its treasures; gold, silver, banknotes are freely exposed, at
the mercy of the first comer.  A keen observer of English customs
relates that, being in one of the rooms of the Bank one day, he had the
curiosity to examine a gold ingot weighing some seven or eight pounds.
He took it up, scrutinised it, passed it to his neighbour, he to the
next man, and so on until the ingot, going from hand to hand, was
transferred to the end of a dark entry; nor did it return to its place
for half an hour.  Meanwhile, the cashier had not so much as raised his
head.  But in the present instance things had not gone so smoothly.
The package of notes not being found when five o'clock sounded from the
ponderous clock in the "drawing office," the amount was passed to the
account of profit and loss.  As soon as the robbery was discovered,
picked detectives hastened off to Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez,
Brindisi, New York, and other ports, inspired by the proffered reward
of two thousand pounds, and five per cent. on the sum that might be
recovered.  Detectives were also charged with narrowly watching those
who arrived at or left London by rail, and a judicial examination was
at once entered upon.

There were real grounds for supposing, as the Daily Telegraph said,
that the thief did not belong to a professional band.  On the day of
the robbery a well-dressed gentleman of polished manners, and with a
well-to-do air, had been observed going to and fro in the paying room
where the crime was committed.  A description of him was easily
procured and sent to the detectives; and some hopeful spirits, of whom
Ralph was one, did not despair of his apprehension.  The papers and
clubs were full of the affair, and everywhere people were discussing
the probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club was
especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials.

Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives was likely to
be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered would greatly
stimulate their zeal and activity.  But Stuart was far from sharing
this confidence; and, as they placed themselves at the whist-table,
they continued to argue the matter.  Stuart and Flanagan played
together, while Phileas Fogg had Fallentin for his partner.  As the
game proceeded the conversation ceased, excepting between the rubbers,
when it revived again.

"I maintain," said Stuart, "that the chances are in favour of the
thief, who must be a shrewd fellow."

"Well, but where can he fly to?" asked Ralph.  "No country is safe for
him."

"Pshaw!"

"Where could he go, then?"

"Oh, I don't know that.  The world is big enough."

"It was once," said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone.  "Cut, sir," he added,
handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan.

The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart took up its
thread.

"What do you mean by `once'?  Has the world grown smaller?"

"Certainly," returned Ralph.  "I agree with Mr. Fogg.  The world has
grown smaller, since a man can now go round it ten times more quickly
than a hundred years ago.  And that is why the search for this thief
will be more likely to succeed."

"And also why the thief can get away more easily."

"Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart," said Phileas Fogg.

But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the hand was
finished, said eagerly: "You have a strange way, Ralph, of proving that
the world has grown smaller.  So, because you can go round it in three
months--"

"In eighty days," interrupted Phileas Fogg.

"That is true, gentlemen," added John Sullivan.  "Only eighty days, now
that the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the Great Indian
Peninsula Railway, has been opened.  Here is the estimate made by the
Daily Telegraph:

  From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and
    Brindisi, by rail and steamboats .................  7 days
  From Suez to Bombay, by steamer .................... 13  "
  From Bombay to Calcutta, by rail ...................  3  "
  From Calcutta to Hong Kong, by steamer ............. 13  "
  From Hong Kong to Yokohama (Japan), by steamer .....  6  "
  From Yokohama to San Francisco, by steamer ......... 22  "
  From San Francisco to New York, by rail ............. 7  "
  From New York to London, by steamer and rail ........ 9  "
                                                       ------
    Total ............................................ 80 days."

"Yes, in eighty days!" exclaimed Stuart, who in his excitement made a
false deal.  "But that doesn't take into account bad weather, contrary
winds, shipwrecks, railway accidents, and so on."

"All included," returned Phileas Fogg, continuing to play despite the
discussion.

"But suppose the Hindoos or Indians pull up the rails," replied Stuart;
"suppose they stop the trains, pillage the luggage-vans, and scalp the
passengers!"

"All included," calmly retorted Fogg; adding, as he threw down the
cards, "Two trumps."

Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered them up, and went on: "You
are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but practically--"

"Practically also, Mr. Stuart."

"I'd like to see you do it in eighty days."

"It depends on you.  Shall we go?"

"Heaven preserve me!  But I would wager four thousand pounds that such
a journey, made under these conditions, is impossible."

"Quite possible, on the contrary," returned Mr. Fogg.

"Well, make it, then!"

"The journey round the world in eighty days?"

"Yes."

"I should like nothing better."

"When?"

"At once.  Only I warn you that I shall do it at your expense."

"It's absurd!" cried Stuart, who was beginning to be annoyed at the
persistency of his friend.  "Come, let's go on with the game."

"Deal over again, then," said Phileas Fogg.  "There's a false deal."

Stuart took up the pack with a feverish hand; then suddenly put them
down again.

"Well, Mr. Fogg," said he, "it shall be so: I will wager the four
thousand on it."

"Calm yourself, my dear Stuart," said Fallentin.  "It's only a joke."

"When I say I'll wager," returned Stuart, "I mean it."

"All right," said Mr. Fogg; and, turning to the others, he continued:
"I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring's which I will willingly
risk upon it."

"Twenty thousand pounds!" cried Sullivan.  "Twenty thousand pounds,
which you would lose by a single accidental delay!"

"The unforeseen does not exist," quietly replied Phileas Fogg.

"But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days are only the estimate of the least possible
time in which the journey can be made."

"A well-used minimum suffices for everything."

"But, in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathematically from the
trains upon the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains again."

"I will jump--mathematically."

"You are joking."

"A true Englishman doesn't joke when he is talking about so serious a
thing as a wager," replied Phileas Fogg, solemnly.  "I will bet twenty
thousand pounds against anyone who wishes that I will make the tour of
the world in eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours,
or a hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes.  Do you accept?"

"We accept," replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and
Ralph, after consulting each other.

"Good," said Mr. Fogg.  "The train leaves for Dover at a quarter before
nine.  I will take it."

"This very evening?" asked Stuart.

"This very evening," returned Phileas Fogg.  He took out and consulted
a pocket almanac, and added,  "As today is Wednesday, the 2nd of
October, I shall be due in London in this very room of the Reform Club,
on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine p.m.; or
else the twenty thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Baring's,
will belong to you, in fact and in right, gentlemen.  Here is a cheque
for the amount."

A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and signed by the six
parties, during which Phileas Fogg preserved a stoical composure.  He
certainly did not bet to win, and had only staked the twenty thousand
pounds, half of his fortune, because he foresaw that he might have to
expend the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say
unattainable, project.  As for his antagonists, they seemed much
agitated; not so much by the value of their stake, as because they had
some scruples about betting under conditions so difficult to their
friend.

The clock struck seven, and the party offered to suspend the game so
that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations for departure.

"I am quite ready now," was his tranquil response.  "Diamonds are
trumps: be so good as to play, gentlemen."

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

completion: Phileas Fogg reaches the Reform Club, his personal hangout, and takes breakfast in the dining room where he always does, at the same table, every day. He reads the newspapers and has lunch there, too, then goes to the reading room where he joins his friends for their usual game of whist. The group of men discusses a bank robbery. Phileas remarks that he just read in the newspaper that the bank robber is "a gentleman." Fifty-five thousand pounds was taken from a cashier's table, but the theft wasn't discovered until 5:00PM. Detectives were sent to each port in England to see if the money might be recovered. A reward of 2,000 pounds was offered to recover the stolen money. Everyone in town is gossiping about the money being recovered and whether, in fact, it was stolen by--gasp--a gentleman. The men playing whist discuss whether it's possible to go around the world in eighty days. One of Fogg's friends dares him to complete such a feat, and he wagers four thousand pounds. Fogg insists that he can do it and declares that "A true Englishman doesn't joke when he is talking about so serious a thing as a wager." He ups the bet to 20,000 pounds. Bam. Fogg decides to grab the next train to Dover and tells the group that he'll see them all back in the Reform club on Saturday, the 21st of December. To make things all official-like, the six men sign an agreement. The friends suggest that Phileas go home and pack, but Fogg dismisses this and tells them he hasn't finished playing cards yet.


prompt:
Chapter: Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends,
Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club.

Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his
duties, was more than surprised to see his master guilty of the
inexactness of appearing at this unaccustomed hour; for, according to
rule, he was not due in Saville Row until precisely midnight.

Mr. Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, "Passepartout!"

Passepartout did not reply.  It could not be he who was called; it was
not the right hour.

"Passepartout!" repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his voice.

Passepartout made his appearance.

"I've called you twice," observed his master.

"But it is not midnight," responded the other, showing his watch.

"I know it; I don't blame you.  We start for Dover and Calais in ten
minutes."

A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout's round face; clearly he had not
comprehended his master.

"Monsieur is going to leave home?"

"Yes," returned Phileas Fogg.  "We are going round the world."

Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his
hands, and seemed about to collapse, so overcome was he with stupefied
astonishment.

"Round the world!" he murmured.

"In eighty days," responded Mr. Fogg.  "So we haven't a moment to lose."

"But the trunks?" gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head
from right to left.

"We'll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts and three
pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you.  We'll buy our clothes
on the way.  Bring down my mackintosh and traveling-cloak, and some
stout shoes, though we shall do little walking.  Make haste!"

Passepartout tried to reply, but could not.  He went out, mounted to
his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: "That's good, that is!
And I, who wanted to remain quiet!"

He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure.
Around the world in eighty days!  Was his master a fool?  No.  Was this
a joke, then?  They were going to Dover; good!  To Calais; good again!
After all, Passepartout, who had been away from France five years,
would not be sorry to set foot on his native soil again.  Perhaps they
would go as far as Paris, and it would do his eyes good to see Paris
once more.  But surely a gentleman so chary of his steps would stop
there; no doubt--but, then, it was none the less true that he was
going away, this so domestic person hitherto!

By eight o'clock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag,
containing the wardrobes of his master and himself; then, still
troubled in mind, he carefully shut the door of his room, and descended
to Mr. Fogg.

Mr. Fogg was quite ready.  Under his arm might have been observed a
red-bound copy of Bradshaw's Continental Railway Steam Transit and
General Guide, with its timetables showing the arrival and departure of
steamers and railways.  He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped
into it a goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass
wherever he might go.

"You have forgotten nothing?" asked he.

"Nothing, monsieur."

"My mackintosh and cloak?"

"Here they are."

"Good!  Take this carpet-bag," handing it to Passepartout.  "Take good
care of it, for there are twenty thousand pounds in it."

Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty thousand pounds
were in gold, and weighed him down.

Master and man then descended, the street-door was double-locked, and
at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing
Cross.  The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes
past eight.  Passepartout jumped off the box and followed his master,
who, after paying the cabman, was about to enter the station, when a
poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, her naked feet smeared
with mud, her head covered with a wretched bonnet, from which hung a
tattered feather, and her shoulders shrouded in a ragged shawl,
approached, and mournfully asked for alms.

Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won at whist, and
handed them to the beggar, saying, "Here, my good woman.  I'm glad that
I met you;" and passed on.

Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his master's action
touched his susceptible heart.

Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr.
Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five
friends of the Reform.

"Well, gentlemen," said he, "I'm off, you see; and, if you will examine
my passport when I get back, you will be able to judge whether I have
accomplished the journey agreed upon."

"Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg," said Ralph politely.
"We will trust your word, as a gentleman of honour."

"You do not forget when you are due in London again?"  asked Stuart.

"In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter
before nine p.m.  Good-bye, gentlemen."

Phileas Fogg and his servant seated themselves in a first-class
carriage at twenty minutes before nine; five minutes later the whistle
screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the station.

The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling.  Phileas Fogg,
snugly ensconced in his corner, did not open his lips.  Passepartout,
not yet recovered from his stupefaction, clung mechanically to the
carpet-bag, with its enormous treasure.

Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly
uttered a cry of despair.

"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.

"Alas!  In my hurry--I--I forgot--"

"What?"

"To turn off the gas in my room!"

"Very well, young man," returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; "it will burn--at
your expense."

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

completion: Phileas finishes his whist game, winning twenty guineas in the process, and then he heads back home. Passepartout is pretty amazed that his obsessively on time master shows up at home several hours early. He's even more shocked when Phileas tells him they're leaving for Dover and Calais in ten minutes. Say what? Passepartout can't believe he's going around the world with Fogg. He'd so been looking forward to a quiet, uneventful life with this guy. He thinks to himself perhaps this is all a joke, and maybe they'll only go a little ways before Fogg decides he's had enough fun and comes home. Passepartout packs all their traveling stuff into a carpetbag and then Phileas proceeds to dump a roll of banknotes in--twenty thousand pounds worth. He tells Passepartout to "take good care" of it. No pressure. They lock the door and start off. Upon reaching the train station, a beggar woman asks them for alms. Mr. Fogg gives her twenty guineas and Passepartout are extremely touched by his generosity. The friends from the Reform Club are at the train station to see them off. Fogg tells them he'll get a stamp in his passport for each of the countries he has been in when going around the world so they can be assured he's really been doing what he said instead of taking an extended vacation. As they start to snooze comfortably on the train, Passepartout realizes suddenly that he left the gas on in his room. Fogg calmly tells him "it will burn at your expense."


prompt:
Chapter: Phileas Fogg rightly suspected that his departure from London would
create a lively sensation at the West End.  The news of the bet spread
through the Reform Club, and afforded an exciting topic of conversation
to its members.  From the club it soon got into the papers throughout
England.  The boasted "tour of the world" was talked about, disputed,
argued with as much warmth as if the subject were another Alabama
claim.  Some took sides with Phileas Fogg, but the large majority shook
their heads and declared against him; it was absurd, impossible, they
declared, that the tour of the world could be made, except
theoretically and on paper, in this minimum of time, and with the
existing means of travelling.  The Times, Standard, Morning Post, and
Daily News, and twenty other highly respectable newspapers scouted Mr.
Fogg's project as madness; the Daily Telegraph alone hesitatingly
supported him.  People in general thought him a lunatic, and blamed his
Reform Club friends for having accepted a wager which betrayed the
mental aberration of its proposer.

Articles no less passionate than logical appeared on the question, for
geography is one of the pet subjects of the English; and the columns
devoted to Phileas Fogg's venture were eagerly devoured by all classes
of readers.  At first some rash individuals, principally of the gentler
sex, espoused his cause, which became still more popular when the
Illustrated London News came out with his portrait, copied from a
photograph in the Reform Club.  A few readers of the Daily Telegraph
even dared to say, "Why not, after all?  Stranger things have come to
pass."

At last a long article appeared, on the 7th of October, in the bulletin
of the Royal Geographical Society, which treated the question from
every point of view, and demonstrated the utter folly of the enterprise.

Everything, it said, was against the travellers, every obstacle imposed
alike by man and by nature.  A miraculous agreement of the times of
departure and arrival, which was impossible, was absolutely necessary
to his success.  He might, perhaps, reckon on the arrival of trains at
the designated hours, in Europe, where the distances were relatively
moderate; but when he calculated upon crossing India in three days, and
the United States in seven, could he rely beyond misgiving upon
accomplishing his task?  There were accidents to machinery, the
liability of trains to run off the line, collisions, bad weather, the
blocking up by snow--were not all these against Phileas Fogg?  Would he
not find himself, when travelling by steamer in winter, at the mercy of
the winds and fogs?  Is it uncommon for the best ocean steamers to be
two or three days behind time?  But a single delay would suffice to
fatally break the chain of communication; should Phileas Fogg once
miss, even by an hour; a steamer, he would have to wait for the next,
and that would irrevocably render his attempt vain.

This article made a great deal of noise, and, being copied into all the
papers, seriously depressed the advocates of the rash tourist.

Everybody knows that England is the world of betting men, who are of a
higher class than mere gamblers; to bet is in the English temperament.
Not only the members of the Reform, but the general public, made heavy
wagers for or against Phileas Fogg, who was set down in the betting
books as if he were a race-horse.  Bonds were issued, and made their
appearance on 'Change; "Phileas Fogg bonds" were offered at par or at a
premium, and a great business was done in them.  But five days after
the article in the bulletin of the Geographical Society appeared, the
demand began to subside:  "Phileas Fogg" declined.  They were offered
by packages, at first of five, then of ten, until at last nobody would
take less than twenty, fifty, a hundred!

Lord Albemarle, an elderly paralytic gentleman, was now the only
advocate of Phileas Fogg left.  This noble lord, who was fastened to
his chair, would have given his fortune to be able to make the tour of
the world, if it took ten years; and he bet five thousand pounds on
Phileas Fogg.  When the folly as well as the uselessness of the
adventure was pointed out to him, he contented himself with replying,
"If the thing is feasible, the first to do it ought to be an
Englishman."

The Fogg party dwindled more and more, everybody was going against him,
and the bets stood a hundred and fifty and two hundred to one; and a
week after his departure an incident occurred which deprived him of
backers at any price.

The commissioner of police was sitting in his office at nine o'clock
one evening, when the following telegraphic dispatch was put into his
hands:

Suez to London.

Rowan, Commissioner of Police, Scotland Yard:

I've found the bank robber, Phileas Fogg.  Send with out delay warrant
of arrest to Bombay.

Fix, Detective.

The effect of this dispatch was instantaneous.  The polished gentleman
disappeared to give place to the bank robber.  His photograph, which
was hung with those of the rest of the members at the Reform Club, was
minutely examined, and it betrayed, feature by feature, the description
of the robber which had been provided to the police.  The mysterious
habits of Phileas Fogg were recalled; his solitary ways, his sudden
departure; and it seemed clear that, in undertaking a tour round the
world on the pretext of a wager, he had had no other end in view than
to elude the detectives, and throw them off his track.

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

completion: News is spreading about Phileas taking on "the challenge" of racing around the world in eighty days or under . Nobody really thinks he can do it, except the ladies who appreciate his rashness and bold adventurous spirit--cue sighing and fainting. There are more bets around the gambling clubs in England for and against Phileas completing his journey. One Detective Fix of Scotland Yard has been sent to follow and apprehend Phileas Fogg on charges of suspected bank robbery. People are starting to think that Phileas Fogg just might be the robber in question because of his odd ways and his similarity in features to the thief.


prompt:
Chapter: The circumstances under which this telegraphic dispatch about Phileas
Fogg was sent were as follows:

The steamer Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company,
built of iron, of two thousand eight hundred tons burden, and five
hundred horse-power, was due at eleven o'clock a.m. on Wednesday, the
9th of October, at Suez.  The Mongolia plied regularly between Brindisi
and Bombay via the Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest steamers
belonging to the company, always making more than ten knots an hour
between Brindisi and Suez, and nine and a half between Suez and Bombay.

Two men were promenading up and down the wharves, among the crowd of
natives and strangers who were sojourning at this once straggling
village--now, thanks to the enterprise of M. Lesseps, a fast-growing
town.  One was the British consul at Suez, who, despite the prophecies
of the English Government, and the unfavourable predictions of
Stephenson, was in the habit of seeing, from his office window, English
ships daily passing to and fro on the great canal, by which the old
roundabout route from England to India by the Cape of Good Hope was
abridged by at least a half.  The other was a small, slight-built
personage, with a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes peering
out from under eyebrows which he was incessantly twitching.  He was
just now manifesting unmistakable signs of impatience, nervously pacing
up and down, and unable to stand still for a moment.  This was Fix, one
of the detectives who had been dispatched from England in search of the
bank robber; it was his task to narrowly watch every passenger who
arrived at Suez, and to follow up all who seemed to be suspicious
characters, or bore a resemblance to the description of the criminal,
which he had received two days before from the police headquarters at
London.  The detective was evidently inspired by the hope of obtaining
the splendid reward which would be the prize of success, and awaited
with a feverish impatience, easy to understand, the arrival of the
steamer Mongolia.

"So you say, consul," asked he for the twentieth time, "that this
steamer is never behind time?"

"No, Mr. Fix," replied the consul.  "She was bespoken yesterday at Port
Said, and the rest of the way is of no account to such a craft.  I
repeat that the Mongolia has been in advance of the time required by
the company's regulations, and gained the prize awarded for excess of
speed."

"Does she come directly from Brindisi?"

"Directly from Brindisi; she takes on the Indian mails there, and she
left there Saturday at five p.m.  Have patience, Mr. Fix; she will not
be late.  But really, I don't see how, from the description you have,
you will be able to recognise your man, even if he is on board the
Mongolia."

"A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than
recognises them.  You must have a scent for them, and a scent is like a
sixth sense which combines hearing, seeing, and smelling.  I've
arrested more than one of these gentlemen in my time, and, if my thief
is on board, I'll answer for it; he'll not slip through my fingers."

"I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery."

"A magnificent robbery, consul; fifty-five thousand pounds!  We don't
often have such windfalls.  Burglars are getting to be so contemptible
nowadays!  A fellow gets hung for a handful of shillings!"

"Mr. Fix," said the consul, "I like your way of talking, and hope
you'll succeed; but I fear you will find it far from easy.  Don't you
see, the description which you have there has a singular resemblance to
an honest man?"

"Consul," remarked the detective, dogmatically, "great robbers always
resemble honest folks.  Fellows who have rascally faces have only one
course to take, and that is to remain honest; otherwise they would be
arrested off-hand.  The artistic thing is, to unmask honest
countenances; it's no light task, I admit, but a real art."

Mr. Fix evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit.

Little by little the scene on the quay became more animated; sailors of
various nations, merchants, ship-brokers, porters, fellahs, bustled to
and fro as if the steamer were immediately expected.  The weather was
clear, and slightly chilly.  The minarets of the town loomed above the
houses in the pale rays of the sun.  A jetty pier, some two thousand
yards along, extended into the roadstead.  A number of fishing-smacks
and coasting boats, some retaining the fantastic fashion of ancient
galleys, were discernible on the Red Sea.

As he passed among the busy crowd, Fix, according to habit, scrutinised
the passers-by with a keen, rapid glance.

It was now half-past ten.

"The steamer doesn't come!" he exclaimed, as the port clock struck.

"She can't be far off now," returned his companion.

"How long will she stop at Suez?"

"Four hours; long enough to get in her coal.  It is thirteen hundred
and ten miles from Suez to Aden, at the other end of the Red Sea, and
she has to take in a fresh coal supply."

"And does she go from Suez directly to Bombay?"

"Without putting in anywhere."

"Good!" said Fix.  "If the robber is on board he will no doubt get off
at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies in Asia by some
other route.  He ought to know that he would not be safe an hour in
India, which is English soil."

"Unless," objected the consul, "he is exceptionally shrewd.  An English
criminal, you know, is always better concealed in London than anywhere
else."

This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and
meanwhile the consul went away to his office.  Fix, left alone, was
more impatient than ever, having a presentiment that the robber was on
board the Mongolia.  If he had indeed left London intending to reach
the New World, he would naturally take the route via India, which was
less watched and more difficult to watch than that of the Atlantic.
But Fix's reflections were soon interrupted by a succession of sharp
whistles, which announced the arrival of the Mongolia.  The porters and
fellahs rushed down the quay, and a dozen boats pushed off from the
shore to go and meet the steamer.  Soon her gigantic hull appeared
passing along between the banks, and eleven o'clock struck as she
anchored in the road.  She brought an unusual number of passengers,
some of whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the
town, while the greater part disembarked in the boats, and landed on
the quay.

Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face and figure
which made its appearance.  Presently one of the passengers, after
vigorously pushing his way through the importunate crowd of porters,
came up to him and politely asked if he could point out the English
consulate, at the same time showing a passport which he wished to have
visaed.  Fix instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance
read the description of its bearer.  An involuntary motion of surprise
nearly escaped him, for the description in the passport was identical
with that of the bank robber which he had received from Scotland Yard.

"Is this your passport?" asked he.

"No, it's my master's."

"And your master is--"

"He stayed on board."

"But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his
identity."

"Oh, is that necessary?"

"Quite indispensable."

"And where is the consulate?"

"There, on the corner of the square," said Fix, pointing to a house two
hundred steps off.

"I'll go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however, to be
disturbed."

The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer.

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

completion: Detective Fix is following Mr. Fogg from Suez with a supreme confidence that he is the right man to apprehend the bank robber. Detective Fix impatiently waits for the steamship The Mongolia, and when it arrives, he scrutinizes the passengers and crew, looking for the thief. A man approaches the detective asking where the consulate office might be and if the detective will stamp his passport. Poor unsuspecting Passepartout has no idea that he has just given his master's documents to the detective wishing to arrest Fogg. The detective sneakily tells Passepartout that Fogg will need to present himself at the consulate if he wishes to have his passport stamped. Well played, Detective.


prompt:
Chapter: The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly made his way to the
consul's office, where he was at once admitted to the presence of that
official.

"Consul," said he, without preamble, "I have strong reasons for
believing that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia." And he narrated
what had just passed concerning the passport.

"Well, Mr. Fix," replied the consul, "I shall not be sorry to see the
rascal's face; but perhaps he won't come here--that is, if he is the
person you suppose him to be.  A robber doesn't quite like to leave
traces of his flight behind him; and, besides, he is not obliged to
have his passport countersigned."

"If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will come."

"To have his passport visaed?"

"Yes.  Passports are only good for annoying honest folks, and aiding in
the flight of rogues.  I assure you it will be quite the thing for him
to do; but I hope you will not visa the passport."

"Why not?  If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse."

"Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest
him from London."

"Ah, that's your look-out.  But I cannot--"

The consul did not finish his sentence, for as he spoke a knock was
heard at the door, and two strangers entered, one of whom was the
servant whom Fix had met on the quay.  The other, who was his master,
held out his passport with the request that the consul would do him the
favour to visa it.  The consul took the document and carefully read it,
whilst Fix observed, or rather devoured, the stranger with his eyes
from a corner of the room.

"You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?" said the consul, after reading the passport.

"I am."

"And this man is your servant?"

"He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout."

"You are from London?"

"Yes."

"And you are going--"

"To Bombay."

"Very good, sir.  You know that a visa is useless, and that no passport
is required?"

"I know it, sir," replied Phileas Fogg; "but I wish to prove, by your
visa, that I came by Suez."

"Very well, sir."

The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he
added his official seal.  Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee, coldly
bowed, and went out, followed by his servant.

"Well?" queried the detective.

"Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man," replied the
consul.

"Possibly; but that is not the question.  Do you think, consul, that
this phlegmatic gentleman resembles, feature by feature, the robber
whose description I have received?"

"I concede that; but then, you know, all descriptions--"

"I'll make certain of it," interrupted Fix.  "The servant seems to me
less mysterious than the master; besides, he's a Frenchman, and can't
help talking.  Excuse me for a little while, consul."

Fix started off in search of Passepartout.

Meanwhile Mr. Fogg, after leaving the consulate, repaired to the quay,
gave some orders to Passepartout, went off to the    Mongolia in a
boat, and descended to his cabin.  He took up his note-book, which
contained the following memoranda:

"Left London, Wednesday, October 2nd, at 8.45 p.m.  "Reached Paris,
Thursday, October 3rd, at 7.20 a.m.  "Left Paris, Thursday, at 8.40
a.m.  "Reached Turin by Mont Cenis, Friday, October 4th, at 6.35 a.m.
"Left Turin, Friday, at 7.20 a.m.  "Arrived at Brindisi, Saturday,
October 5th, at 4 p.m.  "Sailed on the Mongolia, Saturday, at 5 p.m.
"Reached Suez, Wednesday, October 9th, at 11 a.m.  "Total of hours
spent, 158+; or, in days, six days and a half."

These dates were inscribed in an itinerary divided into columns,
indicating the month, the day of the month, and the day for the
stipulated and actual arrivals at each principal point Paris, Brindisi,
Suez, Bombay, Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama, San Francisco,
New York, and London--from the 2nd of October to the 21st of December;
and giving a space for setting down the gain made or the loss suffered
on arrival at each locality.  This methodical record thus contained an
account of everything needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was
behind-hand or in advance of his time.  On this Friday, October 9th, he
noted his arrival at Suez, and observed that he had as yet neither
gained nor lost.  He sat down quietly to breakfast in his cabin, never
once thinking of inspecting the town, being one of those Englishmen who
are wont to see foreign countries through the eyes of their domestics.

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

completion: Detective Fix is hoping that Phileas Fogg will visit the consul's office in order to get his passport stamped. He asks the consul to refuse to stamp it, but the consul tells Fix that if the passport is genuine, he can't refuse to stamp it. Fix is hoping that by detaining Phileas at the consul's office he can buy himself enough time to receive the warrant. Passepartout and Fogg do indeed enter the consul's office to get the passport stamped. Fix hides in order to observe them but remain unseen. The consul asks a few questions, but then he stamps and initials the passport and Fogg and Passepartout exit the office. The consul tells Fix that he thinks Phileas Fogg looks like an honest fellow and doesn't think the description of the bank robber can be totally trusted. Fix decides he should keep working on Passepartout since a Frenchman can't resist conversation. Fogg goes back to the steamship Mongolia after giving Passepartout some errands to run. When Fogg returns to his cabin, he systematically inputs information into his travel itinerary. He records the month, date, time, and points of departure in even columns. We learn that his journey will include the following major points: Paris, Brindisi, Suez, Bombay, Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama, San Francisco, New York, and London. He does not wish to sightsee and is content to hear about it from Passepartout.


prompt:
Chapter: Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and looking about on
the quay, as if he did not feel that he, at least, was obliged not to
see anything.

"Well, my friend," said the detective, coming up with him, "is your
passport visaed?"

"Ah, it's you, is it, monsieur?" responded Passepartout.  "Thanks, yes,
the passport is all right."

"And you are looking about you?"

"Yes; but we travel so fast that I seem to be journeying in a dream.
So this is Suez?"

"Yes."

"In Egypt?"

"Certainly, in Egypt."

"And in Africa?"

"In Africa."

"In Africa!" repeated Passepartout.  "Just think, monsieur, I had no
idea that we should go farther than Paris; and all that I saw of Paris
was between twenty minutes past seven and twenty minutes before nine in
the morning, between the Northern and the Lyons stations, through the
windows of a car, and in a driving rain!  How I regret not having seen
once more Pere la Chaise and the circus in the Champs Elysees!"

"You are in a great hurry, then?"

"I am not, but my master is.  By the way, I must buy some shoes and
shirts.  We came away without trunks, only with a carpet-bag."

"I will show you an excellent shop for getting what you want."

"Really, monsieur, you are very kind."

And they walked off together, Passepartout chatting volubly as they
went along.

"Above all," said he; "don't let me lose the steamer."

"You have plenty of time; it's only twelve o'clock."

Passepartout pulled out his big watch.  "Twelve!" he exclaimed; "why,
it's only eight minutes before ten."

"Your watch is slow."

"My watch?  A family watch, monsieur, which has come down from my
great-grandfather!  It doesn't vary five minutes in the year.  It's a
perfect chronometer, look you."

"I see how it is," said Fix.  "You have kept London time, which is two
hours behind that of Suez.  You ought to regulate your watch at noon in
each country."

"I regulate my watch?  Never!"

"Well, then, it will not agree with the sun."

"So much the worse for the sun, monsieur.  The sun will be wrong, then!"

And the worthy fellow returned the watch to its fob with a defiant
gesture.  After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed: "You left London
hastily, then?"

"I rather think so!  Last Friday at eight o'clock in the evening,
Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour
afterwards we were off."

"But where is your master going?"

"Always straight ahead.  He is going round the world."

"Round the world?" cried Fix.

"Yes, and in eighty days!  He says it is on a wager; but, between us, I
don't believe a word of it.  That wouldn't be common sense.  There's
something else in the wind."

"Ah!  Mr. Fogg is a character, is he?"

"I should say he was."

"Is he rich?"

"No doubt, for he is carrying an enormous sum in brand new banknotes
with him.  And he doesn't spare the money on the way, either: he has
offered a large reward to the engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to
Bombay well in advance of time."

"And you have known your master a long time?"

"Why, no; I entered his service the very day we left London."

The effect of these replies upon the already suspicious and excited
detective may be imagined.  The hasty departure from London soon after
the robbery; the large sum carried by Mr. Fogg; his eagerness to reach
distant countries; the pretext of an eccentric and foolhardy bet--all
confirmed Fix in his theory.  He continued to pump poor Passepartout,
and learned that he really knew little or nothing of his master, who
lived a solitary existence in London, was said to be rich, though no
one knew whence came his riches, and was mysterious and impenetrable in
his affairs and habits.  Fix felt sure that Phileas Fogg would not land
at Suez, but was really going on to Bombay.

"Is Bombay far from here?" asked Passepartout.

"Pretty far.  It is a ten days' voyage by sea."

"And in what country is Bombay?"

"India."

"In Asia?"

"Certainly."

"The deuce!  I was going to tell you there's one thing that worries
me--my burner!"

"What burner?"

"My gas-burner, which I forgot to turn off, and which is at this moment
burning at my expense.  I have calculated, monsieur, that I lose two
shillings every four and twenty hours, exactly sixpence more than I
earn; and you will understand that the longer our journey--"

Did Fix pay any attention to Passepartout's trouble about the gas?  It
is not probable.  He was not listening, but was cogitating a project.
Passepartout and he had now reached the shop, where Fix left his
companion to make his purchases, after recommending him not to miss the
steamer, and hurried back to the consulate.  Now that he was fully
convinced, Fix had quite recovered his equanimity.

"Consul," said he, "I have no longer any doubt.  I have spotted my man.
He passes himself off as an odd stick who is going round the world in
eighty days."

"Then he's a sharp fellow," returned the consul, "and counts on
returning to London after putting the police of the two countries off
his track."

"We'll see about that," replied Fix.

"But are you not mistaken?"

"I am not mistaken."

"Why was this robber so anxious to prove, by the visa, that he had
passed through Suez?"

"Why?  I have no idea; but listen to me."

He reported in a few words the most important parts of his conversation
with Passepartout.

"In short," said the consul, "appearances are wholly against this man.
And what are you going to do?"

"Send a dispatch to London for a warrant of arrest to be dispatched
instantly to Bombay, take passage on board the Mongolia, follow my
rogue to India, and there, on English ground, arrest him politely, with
my warrant in my hand, and my hand on his shoulder."

Having uttered these words with a cool, careless air, the detective
took leave of the consul, and repaired to the telegraph office, whence
he sent the dispatch which we have seen to the London police office.  A
quarter of an hour later found Fix, with a small bag in his hand,
proceeding on board the Mongolia; and, ere many moments longer, the
noble steamer rode out at full steam upon the waters of the Red Sea.

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

completion: Detective Fix finds Passepartout and gets him talking. Passepartout tells Fix that he and his master are going on a super-fast journey and that he never gets a minute to stop and see the sights. Passepartout accepts the detective's offer to help him find some shirts and shoes for himself and his master. Passepartout tells Fix about his watch, which is a family heirloom, noting that he always keeps it on London time, no matter where he is. Fix tells him to set his watch to the correct time in each country, but Passepartout refuses. Passepartout tells Fix that Fogg is making the journey around the world because of a bet. Passepartout does not really believe his master will go through with it, though, and he tells Fix that Fogg is rich, but no one really knows how or why. This increases Fix's suspicions that Phileas Fogg is the bank robber in question.


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

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

Always the same impassible member of the Reform Club, whom no incident
could surprise, as unvarying as the ship's chronometers, and seldom
having the curiosity even to go upon the deck, he passed through the
memorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference; did not care to
recognise the historic towns and villages which, along its borders,
raised their picturesque outlines against the sky; and betrayed no fear
of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the old historians always
spoke of with horror, and upon which the ancient navigators never
ventured without propitiating the gods by ample sacrifices.  How did
this eccentric personage pass his time on the Mongolia?  He made his
four hearty meals every day, regardless of the most persistent rolling
and pitching on the part of the steamer; and he played whist
indefatigably, for he had found partners as enthusiastic in the game as
himself.  A tax-collector, on the way to his post at Goa; the Rev.
Decimus Smith, returning to his parish at Bombay; and a
brigadier-general of the English army, who was about to rejoin his
brigade at Benares, made up the party, and, with Mr. Fogg, played whist
by the hour together in absorbing silence.

As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, and took his
meals conscientiously in the forward cabin.  He rather enjoyed the
voyage, for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in
the scenes through which they were passing, and consoled himself with
the delusion that his master's whim would end at Bombay.  He was
pleased, on the day after leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging
person with whom he had walked and chatted on the quays.

"If I am not mistaken," said he, approaching this person, with his most
amiable smile, "you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered to
guide me at Suez?"

"Ah!  I quite recognise you.  You are the servant of the strange
Englishman--"

"Just so, monsieur--"

"Fix."

"Monsieur Fix," resumed Passepartout, "I'm charmed to find you on
board.  Where are you bound?"

"Like you, to Bombay."

"That's capital!  Have you made this trip before?"

"Several times.  I am one of the agents of the Peninsular Company."

"Then you know India?"

"Why yes," replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.

"A curious place, this India?"

"Oh, very curious.  Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas,
tigers, snakes, elephants!  I hope you will have ample time to see the
sights."

"I hope so, Monsieur Fix.  You see, a man of sound sense ought not to
spend his life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train, and from a
railway train upon a steamer again, pretending to make the tour of the
world in eighty days!  No; all these gymnastics, you may be sure, will
cease at Bombay."

"And Mr. Fogg is getting on well?" asked Fix, in the most natural tone
in the world.

"Quite well, and I too.  I eat like a famished ogre; it's the sea air."

"But I never see your master on deck."

"Never; he hasn't the least curiosity."

"Do you know, Mr. Passepartout, that this pretended tour in eighty days
may conceal some secret errand--perhaps a diplomatic mission?"

"Faith, Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about it, nor would I
give half a crown to find out."

After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of chatting
together, the latter making it a point to gain the worthy man's
confidence.  He frequently offered him a glass of whiskey or pale ale
in the steamer bar-room, which Passepartout never failed to accept with
graceful alacrity, mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good fellows.

Meanwhile the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly; on the 13th, Mocha,
surrounded by its ruined walls whereon date-trees were growing, was
sighted, and on the mountains beyond were espied vast coffee-fields.
Passepartout was ravished to behold this celebrated place, and thought
that, with its circular walls and dismantled fort, it looked like an
immense coffee-cup and saucer. The following night they passed through
the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which means in Arabic The Bridge of Tears,
and the next day they put in at Steamer Point, north-west of Aden
harbour, to take in coal.  This matter of fuelling steamers is a
serious one at such distances from the coal-mines; it costs the
Peninsular Company some eight hundred thousand pounds a year.  In these
distant seas, coal is worth three or four pounds sterling a ton.

The Mongolia had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to traverse
before reaching Bombay, and was obliged to remain four hours at Steamer
Point to coal up.  But this delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect
Phileas Fogg's programme; besides, the Mongolia, instead of reaching
Aden on the morning of the 15th, when she was due, arrived there on the
evening of the 14th, a gain of fifteen hours.

Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have the passport again
visaed; Fix, unobserved, followed them.  The visa procured, Mr. Fogg
returned on board to resume his former habits; while Passepartout,
according to custom, sauntered about among the mixed population of
Somalis, Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who comprise the
twenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden.  He gazed with wonder upon
the fortifications which make this place the Gibraltar of the Indian
Ocean, and the vast cisterns where the English engineers were still at
work, two thousand years after the engineers of Solomon.

"Very curious, very curious," said Passepartout to himself, on
returning to the steamer.  "I see that it is by no means useless to
travel, if a man wants to see something new."  At six p.m.  the
Mongolia slowly moved out of the roadstead, and was soon once more on
the Indian Ocean.  She had a hundred and sixty-eight hours in which to
reach Bombay, and the sea was favourable, the wind being in the
north-west, and all sails aiding the engine.  The steamer rolled but
little, the ladies, in fresh toilets, reappeared on deck, and the
singing and dancing were resumed.  The trip was being accomplished most
successfully, and Passepartout was enchanted with the congenial
companion which chance had secured him in the person of the delightful
Fix.  On Sunday, October 20th, towards noon, they came in sight of the
Indian coast: two hours later the pilot came on board.  A range of
hills lay against the sky in the horizon, and soon the rows of palms
which adorn Bombay came distinctly into view.  The steamer entered the
road formed by the islands in the bay, and at half-past four she hauled
up at the quays of Bombay.

Phileas Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty-third rubber of the
voyage, and his partner and himself having, by a bold stroke, captured
all thirteen of the tricks, concluded this fine campaign with a
brilliant victory.

The Mongolia was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she arrived on the 20th.
This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of two days since his departure from
London, and he calmly entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column
of gains.

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

completion: The passengers on board the steamship are mostly bound for India. Some are military men, and a number of them are rich young Englishmen who are traveling. There are a lot of parties that Phileas does not attend. The storms on the Red Sea don't bother him, and he doesn't frequent the deck to view the sights. Phileas does find some companions eager to play whist with him, and he plays tirelessly. Passepartout suffers from seasickness but is glad of the voyage because he is well-fed and housed. He loved seeing the sights but truly expected their voyage would end in Bombay when Phileas had had enough of their travels. He finds Detective Fix on board and chats with him, thinking him a friend. With a successful voyage across the Red Sea, the Mongolia has actually gained fifteen hours when it docks at Aden. Passepartout and Fogg go ashore to get their passport validated again while Fix follows them. On October 20, the steamer docks in Bombay just as Fogg finishes winning his game of whist. Fogg has gained two days since leaving London, and he enters this calmly into his itinerary.


prompt:
Chapter: Everybody knows that the great reversed triangle of land, with its base
in the north and its apex in the south, which is called India, embraces
fourteen hundred thousand square miles, upon which is spread unequally
a population of one hundred and eighty millions of souls.  The British
Crown exercises a real and despotic dominion over the larger portion of
this vast country, and has a governor-general stationed at Calcutta,
governors at Madras, Bombay, and in Bengal, and a lieutenant-governor
at Agra.

But British India, properly so called, only embraces seven hundred
thousand square miles, and a population of from one hundred to one
hundred and ten millions of inhabitants.  A considerable portion of
India is still free from British authority; and there are certain
ferocious rajahs in the interior who are absolutely independent.  The
celebrated East India Company was all-powerful from 1756, when the
English first gained a foothold on the spot where now stands the city
of Madras, down to the time of the great Sepoy insurrection.  It
gradually annexed province after province, purchasing them of the
native chiefs, whom it seldom paid, and appointed the governor-general
and his subordinates, civil and military.  But the East India Company
has now passed away, leaving the British possessions in India directly
under the control of the Crown.  The aspect of the country, as well as
the manners and distinctions of race, is daily changing.

Formerly one was obliged to travel in India by the old cumbrous methods
of going on foot or on horseback, in palanquins or unwieldy coaches;
now fast steamboats ply on the Indus and the Ganges, and a great
railway, with branch lines joining the main line at many points on its
route, traverses the peninsula from Bombay to Calcutta in three days.
This railway does not run in a direct line across India.  The distance
between Bombay and Calcutta, as the bird flies, is only from one
thousand to eleven hundred miles; but the deflections of the road
increase this distance by more than a third.

The general route of the Great Indian Peninsula Railway is as follows:
Leaving Bombay, it passes through Salcette, crossing to the continent
opposite Tannah, goes over the chain of the Western Ghauts, runs thence
north-east as far as Burhampoor, skirts the nearly independent
territory of Bundelcund, ascends to Allahabad, turns thence eastwardly,
meeting the Ganges at Benares, then departs from the river a little,
and, descending south-eastward by Burdivan and the French town of
Chandernagor, has its terminus at Calcutta.

The passengers of the Mongolia went ashore at half-past four p.m.; at
exactly eight the train would start for Calcutta.

Mr. Fogg, after bidding good-bye to his whist partners, left the
steamer, gave his servant several errands to do, urged it upon him to
be at the station promptly at eight, and, with his regular step, which
beat to the second, like an astronomical clock, directed his steps to
the passport office.  As for the wonders of Bombay--its famous city
hall, its splendid library, its forts and docks, its bazaars, mosques,
synagogues, its Armenian churches, and the noble pagoda on Malabar
Hill, with its two polygonal towers--he cared not a straw to see them.
He would not deign to examine even the masterpieces of Elephanta, or
the mysterious hypogea, concealed south-east from the docks, or those
fine remains of Buddhist architecture, the Kanherian grottoes of the
island of Salcette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For the cats, my lord?"

"Perhaps for the travellers as well!"

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

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

Having purchased the usual quota of shirts and shoes, he took a
leisurely promenade about the streets, where crowds of people of many
nationalities--Europeans, Persians with pointed caps, Banyas with round
turbans, Sindes with square bonnets, Parsees with black mitres, and
long-robed Armenians--were collected.  It happened to be the day of a
Parsee festival.  These descendants of the sect of Zoroaster--the most
thrifty, civilised, intelligent, and austere of the East Indians, among
whom are counted the richest native merchants of Bombay--were
celebrating a sort of religious carnival, with processions and shows,
in the midst of which Indian dancing-girls, clothed in rose-coloured
gauze, looped up with gold and silver, danced airily, but with perfect
modesty, to the sound of viols and the clanging of tambourines.  It is
needless to say that Passepartout watched these curious ceremonies with
staring eyes and gaping mouth, and that his countenance was that of the
greenest booby imaginable.

Unhappily for his master, as well as himself, his curiosity drew him
unconsciously farther off than he intended to go.  At last, having seen
the Parsee carnival wind away in the distance, he was turning his steps
towards the station, when he happened to espy the splendid pagoda on
Malabar Hill, and was seized with an irresistible desire to see its
interior.  He was quite ignorant that it is forbidden to Christians to
enter certain Indian temples, and that even the faithful must not go in
without first leaving their shoes outside the door.  It may be said
here that the wise policy of the British Government severely punishes a
disregard of the practices of the native religions.

Passepartout, however, thinking no harm, went in like a simple tourist,
and was soon lost in admiration of the splendid Brahmin ornamentation
which everywhere met his eyes, when of a sudden he found himself
sprawling on the sacred flagging.  He looked up to behold three enraged
priests, who forthwith fell upon him; tore off his shoes, and began to
beat him with loud, savage exclamations.  The agile Frenchman was soon
upon his feet again, and lost no time in knocking down two of his
long-gowned adversaries with his fists and a vigorous application of
his toes; then, rushing out of the pagoda as fast as his legs could
carry him, he soon escaped the third priest by mingling with the crowd
in the streets.

At five minutes before eight, Passepartout, hatless, shoeless, and
having in the squabble lost his package of shirts and shoes, rushed
breathlessly into the station.

Fix, who had followed Mr. Fogg to the station, and saw that he was
really going to leave Bombay, was there, upon the platform.  He had
resolved to follow the supposed robber to Calcutta, and farther, if
necessary.  Passepartout did not observe the detective, who stood in an
obscure corner; but Fix heard him relate his adventures in a few words
to Mr. Fogg.

"I hope that this will not happen again," said Phileas Fogg coldly, as
he got into the train.  Poor Passepartout, quite crestfallen, followed
his master without a word.  Fix was on the point of entering another
carriage, when an idea struck him which induced him to alter his plan.

"No, I'll stay," muttered he.  "An offence has been committed on Indian
soil.  I've got my man."

Just then the locomotive gave a sharp screech, and the train passed out
into the darkness of the night.

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

completion: The author describes India, which is for the most part under British rule, but a large portion remains still free from British authority. In these places there are terrible rajahs who are independent and using their freedom for nefarious purposes. Transportation has changed in India. Modern conveyances such as steamships and railways have replaced travel by foot, horseback, or carriage. Fogg leaves the steamboat Mongolia at half-past 4:00PM and plans to board a train for Calcutta at 8:00PM. Passepartout is given several errands to do while Fogg heads off to the passport office. Fogg goes first to the railway station to have dinner. Fix goes to the Bombay police office after everyone disembarks with the hope of being allowed to arrest Fogg. He's disappointed that the Bombay office says it's the London office's problem, not theirs, and they refuse to grant him the arrest warrant. Passepartout journeys around the city sightseeing and appreciating the culture. He finds himself spellbound by an old Indian temple and goes in, not knowing that Christians are forbidden to enter and that even the faithful have to take off their shoes. The British government enforces this rule and punishes anyone who disregards the practices of the native religions. Passepartout gets jumped by some angry priests who proceed to beat the snot out of him for desecrating the temple. He loses his hat and shoes but makes it back to the train station with five minutes to spare. Fix decides, upon sneakily overhearing about Passepartout's run-in with the locals, that he can use this information to trap Fogg at his next stop. He decides to follow Fogg on to Calcutta.


prompt:
Chapter: The train had started punctually.  Among the passengers were a number
of officers, Government officials, and opium and indigo merchants,
whose business called them to the eastern coast.  Passepartout rode in
the same carriage with his master, and a third passenger occupied a
seat opposite to them.  This was Sir Francis Cromarty, one of Mr.
Fogg's whist partners on the Mongolia, now on his way to join his corps
at Benares.  Sir Francis was a tall, fair man of fifty, who had greatly
distinguished himself in the last Sepoy revolt.  He made India his
home, only paying brief visits to England at rare intervals; and was
almost as familiar as a native with the customs, history, and character
of India and its people.  But Phileas Fogg, who was not travelling, but
only describing a circumference, took no pains to inquire into these
subjects; he was a solid body, traversing an orbit around the
terrestrial globe, according to the laws of rational mechanics.  He was
at this moment calculating in his mind the number of hours spent since
his departure from London, and, had it been in his nature to make a
useless demonstration, would have rubbed his hands for satisfaction.
Sir Francis Cromarty had observed the oddity of his travelling
companion--although the only opportunity he had for studying him had
been while he was dealing the cards, and between two rubbers--and
questioned himself whether a human heart really beat beneath this cold
exterior, and whether Phileas Fogg had any sense of the beauties of
nature.  The brigadier-general was free to mentally confess that, of
all the eccentric persons he had ever met, none was comparable to this
product of the exact sciences.

Phileas Fogg had not concealed from Sir Francis his design of going
round the world, nor the circumstances under which he set out; and the
general only saw in the wager a useless eccentricity and a lack of
sound common sense.  In the way this strange gentleman was going on, he
would leave the world without having done any good to himself or
anybody else.

An hour after leaving Bombay the train had passed the viaducts and the
Island of Salcette, and had got into the open country.  At Callyan they
reached the junction of the branch line which descends towards
south-eastern India by Kandallah and Pounah; and, passing Pauwell, they
entered the defiles of the mountains, with their basalt bases, and
their summits crowned with thick and verdant forests.  Phileas Fogg and
Sir Francis Cromarty exchanged a few words from time to time, and now
Sir Francis, reviving the conversation, observed, "Some years ago, Mr.
Fogg, you would have met with a delay at this point which would
probably have lost you your wager."

"How so, Sir Francis?"

"Because the railway stopped at the base of these mountains, which the
passengers were obliged to cross in palanquins or on ponies to
Kandallah, on the other side."

"Such a delay would not have deranged my plans in the least," said Mr.
Fogg.  "I have constantly foreseen the likelihood of certain obstacles."

"But, Mr. Fogg," pursued Sir Francis, "you run the risk of having some
difficulty about this worthy fellow's adventure at the pagoda."
Passepartout, his feet comfortably wrapped in his travelling-blanket,
was sound asleep and did not dream that anybody was talking about him.
"The Government is very severe upon that kind of offence.  It takes
particular care that the religious customs of the Indians should be
respected, and if your servant were caught--"

"Very well, Sir Francis," replied Mr. Fogg; "if he had been caught he
would have been condemned and punished, and then would have quietly
returned to Europe.  I don't see how this affair could have delayed his
master."

The conversation fell again.  During the night the train left the
mountains behind, and passed Nassik, and the next day proceeded over
the flat, well-cultivated country of the Khandeish, with its straggling
villages, above which rose the minarets of the pagodas.  This fertile
territory is watered by numerous small rivers and limpid streams,
mostly tributaries of the Godavery.

Passepartout, on waking and looking out, could not realise that he was
actually crossing India in a railway train.  The locomotive, guided by
an English engineer and fed with English coal, threw out its smoke upon
cotton, coffee, nutmeg, clove, and pepper plantations, while the steam
curled in spirals around groups of palm-trees, in the midst of which
were seen picturesque bungalows, viharis (sort of abandoned
monasteries), and marvellous temples enriched by the exhaustless
ornamentation of Indian architecture.  Then they came upon vast tracts
extending to the horizon, with jungles inhabited by snakes and tigers,
which fled at the noise of the train; succeeded by forests penetrated
by the railway, and still haunted by elephants which, with pensive
eyes, gazed at the train as it passed.  The travellers crossed, beyond
Milligaum, the fatal country so often stained with blood by the
sectaries of the goddess Kali.  Not far off rose Ellora, with its
graceful pagodas, and the famous Aurungabad, capital of the ferocious
Aureng-Zeb, now the chief town of one of the detached provinces of the
kingdom of the Nizam.  It was thereabouts that Feringhea, the Thuggee
chief, king of the stranglers, held his sway.  These ruffians, united
by a secret bond, strangled victims of every age in honour of the
goddess Death, without ever shedding blood; there was a period when
this part of the country could scarcely be travelled over without
corpses being found in every direction.  The English Government has
succeeded in greatly diminishing these murders, though the Thuggees
still exist, and pursue the exercise of their horrible rites.

At half-past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor where Passepartout
was able to purchase some Indian slippers, ornamented with false
pearls, in which, with evident vanity, he proceeded to encase his feet.
The travellers made a hasty breakfast and started off for Assurghur,
after skirting for a little the banks of the small river Tapty, which
empties into the Gulf of Cambray, near Surat.

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

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

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

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

Passepartout, not less surprised, rushed out and speedily returned,
crying: "Monsieur, no more railway!"

"What do you mean?" asked Sir Francis.

"I mean to say that the train isn't going on."

The general at once stepped out, while Phileas Fogg calmly followed
him, and they proceeded together to the conductor.

"Where are we?" asked Sir Francis.

"At the hamlet of Kholby."

"Do we stop here?"

"Certainly.  The railway isn't finished."

"What! not finished?"

"No.  There's still a matter of fifty miles to be laid from here to
Allahabad, where the line begins again."

"But the papers announced the opening of the railway throughout."

"What would you have, officer?  The papers were mistaken."

"Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta," retorted Sir Francis,
who was growing warm.

"No doubt," replied the conductor; "but the passengers know that they
must provide means of transportation for themselves from Kholby to
Allahabad."

Sir Francis was furious.  Passepartout would willingly have knocked the
conductor down, and did not dare to look at his master.

"Sir Francis," said Mr. Fogg quietly, "we will, if you please, look
about for some means of conveyance to Allahabad."

"Mr. Fogg, this is a delay greatly to your disadvantage."

"No, Sir Francis; it was foreseen."

"What!  You knew that the way--"

"Not at all; but I knew that some obstacle or other would sooner or
later arise on my route.  Nothing, therefore, is lost. I have two days,
which I have already gained, to sacrifice.  A steamer leaves Calcutta
for Hong Kong at noon, on the 25th.  This is the 22nd, and we shall
reach Calcutta in time."

There was nothing to say to so confident a response.

It was but too true that the railway came to a termination at this
point.  The papers were like some watches, which have a way of getting
too fast, and had been premature in their announcement of the
completion of the line.  The greater part of the travellers were aware
of this interruption, and, leaving the train, they began to engage such
vehicles as the village could provide four-wheeled palkigharis, waggons
drawn by zebus, carriages that looked like perambulating pagodas,
palanquins, ponies, and what not.

Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, after searching the village from end
to end, came back without having found anything.

"I shall go afoot," said Phileas Fogg.

Passepartout, who had now rejoined his master, made a wry grimace, as
he thought of his magnificent, but too frail Indian shoes.  Happily he
too had been looking about him, and, after a moment's hesitation, said,
"Monsieur, I think I have found a means of conveyance."

"What?"

"An elephant!  An elephant that belongs to an Indian who lives but a
hundred steps from here."

"Let's go and see the elephant," replied Mr. Fogg.

They soon reached a small hut, near which, enclosed within some high
palings, was the animal in question.  An Indian came out of the hut,
and, at their request, conducted them within the enclosure.  The
elephant, which its owner had reared, not for a beast of burden, but
for warlike purposes, was half domesticated.  The Indian had begun
already, by often irritating him, and feeding him every three months on
sugar and butter, to impart to him a ferocity not in his nature, this
method being often employed by those who train the Indian elephants for
battle.  Happily, however, for Mr. Fogg, the animal's instruction in
this direction had not gone far, and the elephant still preserved his
natural gentleness.  Kiouni--this was the name of the beast--could
doubtless travel rapidly for a long time, and, in default of any other
means of conveyance, Mr. Fogg resolved to hire him.  But elephants are
far from cheap in India, where they are becoming scarce, the males,
which alone are suitable for circus shows, are much sought, especially
as but few of them are domesticated.  When therefore Mr. Fogg proposed
to the Indian to hire Kiouni, he refused point-blank.  Mr. Fogg
persisted, offering the excessive sum of ten pounds an hour for the
loan of the beast to Allahabad.  Refused.  Twenty pounds?  Refused
also.  Forty pounds?  Still refused.  Passepartout jumped at each
advance; but the Indian declined to be tempted.  Yet the offer was an
alluring one, for, supposing it took the elephant fifteen hours to
reach Allahabad, his owner would receive no less than six hundred
pounds sterling.

Phileas Fogg, without getting in the least flurried, then proposed to
purchase the animal outright, and at first offered a thousand pounds
for him.  The Indian, perhaps thinking he was going to make a great
bargain, still refused.

Sir Francis Cromarty took Mr. Fogg aside, and begged him to reflect
before he went any further; to which that gentleman replied that he was
not in the habit of acting rashly, that a bet of twenty thousand pounds
was at stake, that the elephant was absolutely necessary to him, and
that he would secure him if he had to pay twenty times his value.
Returning to the Indian, whose small, sharp eyes, glistening with
avarice, betrayed that with him it was only a question of how great a
price he could obtain.  Mr. Fogg offered first twelve hundred, then
fifteen hundred, eighteen hundred, two thousand pounds.  Passepartout,
usually so rubicund, was fairly white with suspense.

At two thousand pounds the Indian yielded.

"What a price, good heavens!" cried Passepartout, "for an elephant."

It only remained now to find a guide, which was comparatively easy.  A
young Parsee, with an intelligent face, offered his services, which Mr.
Fogg accepted, promising so generous a reward as to materially
stimulate his zeal.  The elephant was led out and equipped.  The
Parsee, who was an accomplished elephant driver, covered his back with
a sort of saddle-cloth, and attached to each of his flanks some
curiously uncomfortable howdahs.  Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with
some banknotes which he extracted from the famous carpet-bag, a
proceeding that seemed to deprive poor Passepartout of his vitals.
Then he offered to carry Sir Francis to Allahabad, which the brigadier
gratefully accepted, as one traveller the more would not be likely to
fatigue the gigantic beast.  Provisions were purchased at Kholby, and,
while Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg took the howdahs on either side,
Passepartout got astride the saddle-cloth between them.  The Parsee
perched himself on the elephant's neck, and at nine o'clock they set
out from the village, the animal marching off through the dense forest
of palms by the shortest cut.

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

completion: On the train to Calcutta there are a bunch of soldiers, government men, and merchants . Sir Francis Cromarty sits with Passepartout and Phileas Fogg on the train. He was one of the people playing whist with Fogg when they were on board the Mongolia. Sir Francis tries to tell all he knows about India, but Fogg isn't interested. Sir Francis begins to observe that perhaps Fogg really doesn't have a heart beneath his cold exterior and that he doesn't seem keen on the beauties of nature. He thinks the wager of going around the world is silly and makes no sense. He worries that Phileas will eventually grow old and die never doing any good to himself or anyone else. Cromarty warns Passepartout and Fogg that they might get in trouble with the British government if it's found out that Passepartout entered the holy pagoda in Bombay. Fogg is dismissive and doesn't think it will be a problem. When the train stops at Burhampoor, Passepartout grabs himself some comfy Indian footwear. After breakfast he thinks a lot about the wager and concludes that Fogg really isn't joking; he plans to go all the way around the world. Suddenly the conductor shouts that everyone needs to disembark because the railway isn't complete until they reach Allahabad. Passepartout is terribly upset and wants to punch someone, while Fogg calmly starts formulating another plan. Passepartout later is able to secure transportation by elephant, but not without it costing Fogg two thousand pounds. Sir Francis begs Fogg not to pay such a crazy price, but Fogg calmly asks him if he has another idea. No? An elephant it is then. A young Parsee guide joins their group and Fogg offers him a good reward should they all make it out of the jungle alive. The elephant's name is Kiouni. Fogg offers to escort Cromarty to Allahabad via his new elephant and Cromarty agrees. Fogg and Cromarty take seats in the "howdah" baskets on either side of the elephant, with Passepartout astride its back and the Parsee riding on the neck. They start off through the jungle via a shortcut that the Parsee knows.