Around the World in 80 Days
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
"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
"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.
"And this man is your servant?"
"He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout."