Mr Fogg replied that the honour would be his; and the detective - who was determined not to lose sight of him - begged permission to accompany them in their walk about San Francisco - a request which Mr Fogg readily granted.
They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where a great crowd was collected; the side-walks, street, horse-car rails, the shop-doors, the windows of the houses, and even the roofs, were full of people. Men were going about carrying large posters, and flags and streamers were floating in the wind; while loud cries were heard on every hand.
`Hurrah for Camerfield!'
`Hurrah for Mandiboy!'
It was a political meeting; at least so Fix conjectured, who said to Mr Fogg, `Perhaps we had better not mingle with the crowd. There may be danger in it.'
`Yes,' returned Mr Fogg; `and blows, even if they are political, are still blows.'
Fix smiled at this remark; and in order to be able to see without being jostled about, the party took up a position on top of a flight of steps situated at the upper end of Montgomery Street. Opposite them, on the other side of the street, between a coal wharf and a petroleum warehouse, a large platform had been erected in the open air, towards which the current of the crowd seemed to be directed.
For what purpose was this meeting? What was the occasion of this excited assemblage? Phileas Fogg could not imagine. Was it to nominate some high official - a governor or member of Congress? It was not improbable, so agitated was the multitude before them.
Just at this moment there was an unusual stir in the human mass. All the hands were raised in the air. Some, tightly closed, seemed to disappear suddenly in the midst of the cries - an energetic way, no doubt, of casting a vote. The crowd swayed back, the banners and flags wavered, disappeared an instant, then reappeared in tatters. The undulations of the human surge reached the steps, while all the heads floundered on the surface like a sea agitated by a squall. Many of the black hats disappeared, and the greater part of the crowd seemed to have diminished in height.
`It is evidently a meeting,' said Fix, `and its object must be an exciting one. I should not wonder if it were about the "Alabama", despite the fact that that question is settled.'
`Perhaps,' replied Mr Fogg simply.
`At least, there are two champions in presence of each other, the Honourable Mr Camerfield and the Honourable Mr Mandiboy.'
Aouda, leaning upon Mr Fogg's arm, observed the tumultuous scene with surprise, while Fix asked a man near him what the cause of it all was. Before the man could reply, a fresh agitation arose; hurrahs and excited shouts were heard; the staffs of the banners began to be used as offensive weapons; and fists flew about in every direction. Thumps were exchanged from the tops of the carriages and omnibuses which had been blocked up in the crowd. Boots and shoes went whirling through the air, and Mr Fogg thought he even heard the crack of revolvers mingling in the din. The rout approached the stairway, and flowed over the lower step. One of the parties had evidently been repulsed; but the mere lookers- on could not tell whether Mandiboy or Camerfield had gained the upper hand.
`It would be prudent for us to retire,' said Fix, who was anxious that Mr Fogg should not receive any injury, at least until they got back to London. `If there is any question about England in all this, and we were recognized, I fear it would go hard with us.'
`An English subject--' began Mr Fogg.
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