"Jules Verne. Around the World in 80 Days" - читать интересную книгу автора

Chapter VII

WHICH ONCE MORE DEMONSTRATES THE USELESSNESS OF PASSPORTS
AS AIDS TO DETECTIVES


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."