Phileas Fogg's five whist opponents all looked at each other, nodded, and said unanimously, "We accept!"
Mr. Fogg's wager to travel around the world in eighty days was on!
"Good," said Phileas Fogg. "The train leaves for Dover at a quarter before nine. I will take it."
"This very evening?" one of the men said.
"Yes, this very evening!" said Mr. Fogg. He then took out his pocket almanac and added, "Today is Wednesday, October 2. I shall be due in London, in this very room of the Reform Club, on Saturday December 21, at a quarter before 9:00 p.m. If I am late, twenty-thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Baring's Bank, will belong to you." Then Mr. Fogg pulled out his checkbook and signed a check with his fountain pen. "In fact, gentlemen," he said, "here is a check for the amount."
The men drafted a contract outlining the wager and everyone signed it. During this whole exchange, Phileas Fogg maintained his usual cool composure. He had not bet to win, but merely to live up to his word. He had staked twenty-thousand pounds, half his fortune. He thought he might have to spend the other half to carry out this difficult project.
The clock struck seven, and the group agreed to suspend the game so Mr. Fogg could prepare for his departure.
"It is unnecessary, gentlemen. I am quite ready now," was Mr. Fogg's response. "It is your turn, I believe," he said to the man on his left.
So, after winning twenty guineas at whist and taking leave of his friends, Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club and made his way home.
When Mr. Fogg arrived home, Passepartout was surprised. His master was not due until exactly midnight. Mr. Fogg immediately went to his room and called for his servant.
But Passepartout did not reply. Mr. Fogg could not be calling for him. It was not the right hour!
"Passepartout," repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his voice.
Passepartout arrived.
"I've called you twice," said his master.
"But it is not midnight," said Passepartout, showing Mr. Fogg his watch.
"I know that. I don't blame you, but we start for Dover and Calais in ten minutes," said Mr. Fogg.
"You are going to leave home?" asked Passepartout with a puzzled look on his face.
"Yes," said his master. "We are going around the world."
Passepartout opened his eyes wide, and looked like he might collapse. "Around the world?" he murmured.
"In eighty days," replied Mr. Fogg. "So we haven't a moment to lose."
"But I must pack our trunks!" Passepartout said.
"We will have no trunks, only a carpetbag with two shirts and three pairs of socks for me, and the same for you. We will buy our clothes on the way," said Mr. Fogg.
Passepartout tried to reply but couldn't. He left Mr. Fogg's room, climbed the stairs to his own room, and fell into the closest chair.
Was his master a fool? No. Was this a joke? It didn't seem so. They were going to Dover and then to Calais, in France.
Passepartout thought a moment later. After all, Passepartout had been away from France for five years. He would not be sorry to see his native soil again. Remembering there was no time to waste, Passepartout packed the carpetbag and was ready by eight o'clock.
Mr. Fogg was ready as well. He was carrying the railway and steamer timetable under his arm. He then took the carpetbag, opened it, and slipped a huge roll of bank notes inside it.
"You have forgotten nothing?" he asked Passepartout.
"No, nothing, sir," replied Passepartout.
"Good! Take this carpetbag," Mr. Fogg said, handing it to Passepartout. "Take good care of it because there is twenty-thousand pounds in it."
Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty-thousand pounds were as heavy as gold.
Mr. Fogg and Passepartout then left the house, locked the door securely, and took a cab to Charing Cross railway station. The cab stopped in front of the station at 8:25, exactly twenty-five-minutes before the train was to depart.
Passepartout's Guidebook
Oh my! I had thought I would be settling down for a nice, quiet life. But suddenly I found out I was about to travel around the world—and in eighty days!
Mr. Fogg told me that our trip will start in Dover. Located at the southeastern tip of England, Dover is famous for its tall, white cliffs, which are made of pure white chalk.
In fact, these white cliffs gave England its most ancient name: Albion, which means "white."
Dover is one of the busiest places to cross the English Channel. Traffic through this port town has boomed since the railway connected it to London. People traveling on the London-Dover train can take the 21-mile ferry ride across the English Channel to Calais, France. There they can hop on the Calais-Paris train.
So far our journey around the world sounds easy, right? Well, we'll see what happens next!