A few moments after, the funnel of the `Henrietta' vomited forth torrents of smoke. The vessel continued to proceed with all steam on; but on the 18th, the engineer, as he had predicted, announced that the coal would give out in the course of the day.

`Do not let the fires go down,' replied Mr Fogg. `Keep them up to the last. Let the valves be filled.'

Towards noon Phileas Fogg, having ascertained their position, called Passepartout, and ordered him to go for Captain Speedy. It was as if the honest fellow had been commanded to unchain a tiger. He went to the poop, saying to himself, `He will be like a madman!'

In a few moments, with cries and oaths, a bomb appeared on the poop-deck. The bomb was Captain Speedy. It was clear that he was on the point of bursting. `Where are we?' were the first words his anger permitted him to utter. Had the poor man been apoplectic, he could never have recovered from his paroxysm of wrath.

`Where are we?' he repeated, with purple face. `Seven hundred and seven miles from Liverpool,' replied Mr Fogg, with imperturbable calmness.

`Pirate!' cried Captain Speedy. `I have sent for you, sir--'

`Pickaroon!'

` - Sir,' continued Mr Fogg, `to ask you to sell me your vessel.'

`No! By all the devils, no!'

`But I shall be obliged to burn her.'

`Burn the "Henrietta"!'

`Yes; at least the upper part of her. The coal has given out.'

`Burn my vessel!' cried Captain Speedy, who could scarcely pronounce the words. `A vessel worth fifty thousand dollars!'

`Here are sixty thousand,' replied Phileas Fogg, handing the captain a roll of bank bills. This had a prodigious effect on Andrew Speedy. An American can scarcely remain unmoved at the sight of sixty thousand dollars. The captain forgot in an instant his anger, his imprisonment, and all his grudges against his passenger. The `Henrietta' was twenty years old; it was a great bargain. The bomb would not go off after all. Mr Fogg had taken away the match.

`And I shall still have the iron hull,' said the captain in a softer tone.

`The iron hull and the engine. Is it agreed?'

`Agreed.'

And Andrew Speedy, seizing the bank-notes, counted them and consigned them to his pocket.

During this colloquy, Passepartout was as white as a sheet, and Fix seemed on the point of having an apoplectic fit. Nearly twenty thousand pounds had been expended, and Fogg left the hull and engine to the captain, that is, near the whole value of the craft! It was true, however, that fifty-five thousand pounds had been stolen from the bank.

When Andrew Speedy had pocketed the money, Mr Fogg said to him, `Don't let this astonish you, sir. You must know that I shall lose twenty thousand pounds, unless I arrive in London by a quarter before


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