Read Philip Jose Farmer for Free Online Page B

long line suspected of being Capellean. But during the trip with Forster to Savile Row, Passepartout knew that he was in a different area of the case. The 2°F. signal told him that both Fogg and Forster were his kind. It only remained to be verified by the code words.
    After his new master had left, he inspected the domicile carefully. As the valet, he would have done this anyway, but as an Eridanean he was obligated to, if only for the sake of survival. Verne says that the house seemed to Passepartout like a snail’s shell. This is a more appropriate comparison than Verne knew. A snail’s shell is not only a comfortable home but a fortress. He scoured No. 7 from cellar to garret to determine more than its layout. He wanted to know how vulnerable it was to attackers and what defenses it contained. Curiously, it was its very accessibility to intruders and its total lack of firearms or weapons of any kind which pleased him. This meant that no attacks were expected, and none were expected because its owner did not dream—apparently—that he had any special need for defense.
    “Everything betrayed the most tranquil and peaceable habits,” Verne says.
    No wonder that Passepartout rubbed his hands and smiled. No wonder that he spoke aloud. “This is exactly what I desired! Oh, we shall get along, Mr. Fogg and I! What a domestic and regular gentleman! A real machine! Well, I don’t mind serving a machine!”
    He spoke aloud for several reasons. One, he was genuinely pleased. Two, his words were designed to reassure any hidden recorders or observers that he and Fogg were only what they pretended to be. Fogg was a rigidly self-controlled English gentleman, and he was a French itinerant who had finally found a snug and unchanging berth.
    Passepartout should have known better. The long string of Phileases should have put him on the alert. But he so needed a rest that he allowed his emotions to overcome his logic. Imagine his consternation when his master entered the house, not at the prescribed hour of midnight but at ten minutes to eight or somewhere near that. Because of surprise and apprehension, Passepartout said nothing to Mr. Fogg as he went into his bedroom. He had to be called twice before he went into the master’s bedroom. Imagine his dismay on hearing that he was to leave with Fogg for Dover and Calais inside the next ten minutes. Picture his near-collapse when he was informed that they were going to journey completely around the Earth in record time. Visualize the lights bursting in his brain and the shivers running through him when he heard that they would be traveling through India. He knew about the rajah of Bundelcund. And they would be taking the distorter so close to him!
    At eight o’clock, he was ready. Then he almost collapsed when handed a carpetbag containing the travel expenses. Twenty thousand pounds in bank notes!
    So it was true, and here was the result of his investigations into the multi-Phileas! But why had he had to make sure that Sir William Clayton was out of reach of news from the civilized world?

 6 
    At the end of Savile Row, the two took a cab, which drove rapidly to the Charing Cross Station. Presumably, the street at the end of Savile Row was Vigo, since to walk to Conduit would have taken them further away from their destination. The traffic must have been excessively heavy that night, and perhaps an accident delayed them. Verne says that they arrived at the station at twenty minutes after eight. Since the station is less than a mile from Savile Row, the two could have walked there more quickly. Especially since they were not overburdened. Fogg carried  Bradshaw’s Continental Railway Steam Transit and General Guide  under one arm, and his valet carried the carpetbag. Though Verne states that Fogg’s house contained no books, he must not have counted the  Bradshaw  as this type of literature. And if Fogg had memorized the  Bradshaw  for the English railways, he had not done