colleague has scarcely reached America! I calculate twenty days, at least, as the time that he will be behind, and old Lord Albermarle will be minus his five thousand pounds!"
"It is evident," replied Gauthier Ralph, "and to-morrow we have only to present to Baring Brothers Mr. Fogg's check."
At this moment, the clock in the saloon struck forty minutes after eight.
"Five minutes yet," said Andrew Stuart.
The five colleagues looked at each other. It may be believed that their hearts beat a little more rapidly, for, even for good players, it was a great risk. But they did not betray themselves, for at Samuel Fallentin's suggestion, they seated themselves at a card table.
"I would not give my part of four thousand pounds in the bet," said Andrew Stuart, seating himself, "even if I was offered three thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine!"
At this moment the hands noted forty-two minutes after eight.
The players took up their cards, but their eyes were constantly fixed upon the clock. It may be asserted that, notwithstanding their security, the minutes had never seemed so long to them!
"Forty-three minutes after eight," said Thomas Flanagan, cutting the cards which Gauthier Ralph presented to him.
Then there was a moment's silence. The immense saloon of the club was quiet. But outside they heard the hubbub of the crowd, above which were sometimes heard loud cries. The pendulum of the clock was beating the seconds with mathematical regularity, and every player could count them as they struck his ear.
"Forty-four minutes after eight," said John Sullivan in a voice in which was heard an involuntary emotion.
One more minute and the bet would be won. Andrew Stuart and his colleagues played no longer. They had abandoned their cards! They were eagerly counting the seconds!
At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth still nothing!
At the fifty-fifth, there was a roaring like that of thunder outside, shouts, hurrahs, and even curses kept up in one
