into. The most pressing thing was to rejoin Mr. Fogg and beg him to pardon him for his inexcusable conduct.
Passepartout then rose. The sea was rough, and the ship rolled heavily. The worthy fellow—his legs not very steady yet—reached as well as he could the after-deck of the ship. He saw no one on the deck that resembled either his master or Aouda.
"Good," said he. "Aouda is still abed at this hour. As for Mr. Fogg, he has probably found some whist player, and according to his habit———"
So saying, Passepartout descended to the saloon. Mr. Fogg was not there. Passepartout had but one thing to do: to ask the purser which cabin Mr. Fogg occupied. The purser replied that he did not know any passenger of that name.
"Pardon me," said Passepartout, persisting. "The gentleman in question is tall, cold, non-communicative, accompanied by a young lady———"
"We have no young lady on board," replied the purser.
"To convince you, here is the list of passengers. You can examine it."
Passepartout looked over the list. His master's name did not appear. He felt bewildered. Then an idea struck him. "Ah! but see! Am I on the Carnatic?" he cried.
"Yes," replied the purser.
"En route for Yokohama?"
"Exactly so."
Passepartout had for a moment feared that he had mistaken the vessel! But though he was on the Carnatic, he was certain that his master was not there for he had not seen him.
Passepartout dropped into an arm-chair. It was a thunder stroke for him. And suddenly, there was a gleam of light. He recollected that the hour of departure for the Carnatic had been anticipated, that he was to notify his master, and that he had not done it! It was his fault, then, if Mr. Fogg and Aouda had missed this steamer!
His fault, yes, but still more that of the traitor who, to separate him from his master, to keep the latter in Hong Kong, had made him drunk! For at last he understood the detective's maneuver. And now Mr. Fogg surely ruined, his bet lost, arrested, perhaps imprisoned! Passepartout at
