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to be arrested and brought before Judge Obadiah.
Had Passepartout been a little less preoccupied, he would have
espied the detective ensconced in a corner of the court-room,
watching the proceedings with an interest easily understood;
for the warrant had failed to reach him at Calcutta,
as it had done at Bombay and Suez.
Judge Obadiah had unfortunately caught Passepartout's rash exclamation,
which the poor fellow would have given the world to recall.
"The facts are admitted?" asked the judge.
"Admitted," replied Mr. Fogg, coldly.
"Inasmuch," resumed the judge, "as the English law protects equally
and sternly the religions of the Indian people, and as the man
Passepartout has admitted that he violated the sacred pagoda of Malabar Hill,
at Bombay, on the 20th of October, I condemn the said Passepartout
to imprisonment for fifteen days and a fine of three hundred pounds."
"Three hundred pounds!" cried Passepartout, startled at the largeness
of the sum.
"Silence!" shouted the constable.
"And inasmuch," continued the judge, "as it is not proved that
the act was not done by the connivance of the master with the servant,
and as the master in any case must be held responsible for the acts
of his paid servant, I condemn Phileas Fogg to a week's imprisonment
and a fine of one hundred and fifty pounds."
Fix rubbed his hands softly with satisfaction; if Phileas Fogg
could be detained in Calcutta a week, it would be more than time
for the warrant to arrive. Passepartout was stupefied. This sentence
ruined his master. A wager of twenty thousand pounds lost, because he,
like a precious fool, had gone into that abominable pagoda!
Phileas Fogg, as self-composed as if the judgment did not
in the least concern him, did not even lift his eyebrows while
it was being pronounced. Just as the clerk was calling the next case,
he rose, and said, "I offer bail."
"You have that right," returned the judge.
Fix's blood ran cold, but he resumed his composure when he heard
the judge announce that the bail required for each prisoner
would be one thousand pounds.
"I will pay it at once," said Mr. Fogg, taking a roll of bank-bills
from the carpet-bag, which Passepartout had by him, and placing them
on the clerk's desk.
"This sum will be restored to you upon your release from prison,"
said the judge. "Meanwhile, you are liberated on bail."
"Come!" said Phileas Fogg to his servant.
"But let them at least give me back my shoes!" cried Passepartout angrily.
"Ah, these are pretty dear shoes!" he muttered, as they were handed to him.
"More than a thousand pounds apiece; besides, they pinch my feet."
Mr. Fogg, offering his arm to Aouda, then departed, followed
by the crestfallen Passepartout. Fix still nourished hopes
that the robber would not, after all, leave the two thousand pounds
behind him, but would decide to serve out his week in jail,
and issued forth on Mr. Fogg's traces. That gentleman took a carriage,
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