Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends, Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club.
Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his duties, was more than surprised to see his master guilty of the inexactness of appearing at this unaccustomed hour; for, according to rule, he was not due in Saville Row until precisely midnight.
Mr Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, `Passepartout!'
Passepartout did not reply. It could not be he who was called; it was not the right hour.
`Passepartout!' repeated Mr Fogg, without raising his voice.
Passepartout made his appearance.
`I've called you twice,' observed his master.
`But it is not midnight,' responded the other, showing his watch.
`I know it; I don't blame you. We start for Dover and Calais in ten minutes.'
A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout's round face, clearly he had not comprehended his master.
`Monsieur is going to leave home?'
`Yes,' returned Phileas Fogg. `We are going round the world.'
Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his hands, and seemed about to collapse, so overcome was he with stupefied astonishment.
`Round the world!' he murmured.
`In eighty days,' responded Mr Fogg. `So we haven't a moment to lose.'
`But the trunks?' gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head from right to left.
`We'll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts and three pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you. We'll buy our clothes on the way. Bring down my mackintosh and travelling-cloak, and some stout shoes, though we shall do little walking. Make haste!'
Passepartout tried to reply, but could not. He went out, mounted to his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: `That's good, that is! And I, who wanted to remain quiet!'
He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure. Around the world in eighty days! Was his master a fool? No. Was this a joke, then? They were going to Dover; good. To Calais; good again. After all, Passepartout, who had been away from France five years, would not be sorry to set foot on his native soil again. Perhaps they would go as far as Paris, and it would do his eyes good to see Paris once more. But surely a gentleman so chary of his steps would stop there; no doubt, - but, then, it was none the less true that he was going away, this so domestic person hitherto!
By eight o'clock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag, containing the wardrobes of his master and himself; then, still troubled in mind, he carefully shut the door of his room, and descended to Mr Fogg.
Mr Fogg was quite ready. Under his arm might have been observed a red-bound copy of `Bradshaw's Continental Railway Steam Transit and General Guide,' with its time-tables showing the arrival and departure of steamers and railways. He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped into it a goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass wherever he might go.
`You have forgotten nothing?' asked he.
`Nothing, monsieur.'
`My mackintosh and cloak?'
`Here they are.'
`Good. Take this carpet-bag,' handing it to Passepartout. `Take good care of it, for there are twenty thousand pounds in it.'
Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty thousand pounds were in gold, and weighted him down.
Master and man then descended, the street-door was double-locked, and at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross. The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes past eight. Passepartout jumped off the box and followed his master, who, after paying the cabman, was about to enter the station, when a poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, her naked feet smeared with mud, her head covered with a wretched bonnet, from which hung a tattered feather, and her shoulders shrouded in a ragged shawl, approached, and mournfully asked for alms.
Mr Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won at whist, and handed them to the beggar, saying, `Here, my good woman. I'm glad that I met you'; and passed on.
Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his masters action touched his susceptible heart.
Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five friends of the Reform.
`Well, gentlemen,' said he, `I'm off, you see; and if you will examine my passport when I get back, you will be able to judge whether I have accomplished the journey agreed upon.'
`Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr Fogg,' said Ralph politely. `We will trust your word, as a gentleman of honour.'
`You do not forget when you are due in London again?' asked Stuart.
`In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen.
Phileas Fogg and his servant seated themselves in a first-class carriage at twenty minutes before nine; five minutes later the whistle screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the Station.
The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling. Phileas Fogg, snugly ensconced in his corner, did not open his lips. Passepartout, not yet recovered from his stupefaction, clung mechanically to the carpet-bag, with its enormous treasure.
Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly uttered a cry of despair.
`What's the matter?' asked Mr Fogg.
`Alas! In my hurry - I - I forgot--'
`What?'
`To turn off the gas in my room!'
`Very well, young man,' returned Mr Fogg, coolly; `it will burn - at your expense.'
路路通已经很仔细地研究过自己的工作日程。现在看见福克先生破例提前回家，感到非常奇怪，因为按照那张注意事项表，这位住在赛微乐街的绅士应该晚上十二点回家。
福克先生首先上楼回到自己房里，然后呼唤：“路路通！”
路路通没回答，现在本来就不该叫他，因为还没到时候。
“路路通，”福克先生又叫了一声，可是这一声并不比刚才高。
路路通进来了。
“我叫你叫了两声了。”福克先生说。
“可是现在还没到晚上十二点。”路路通一面看着手里拿着的表，一面回答说。
“我知道，”福克先生说，“我并不是责备你。十分钟以后，我们就要动身到杜伏勒和加来去。”
这个法国人圆圆的面孔上露出一副窘相。显然他以为自己听错了，于是问道：
“先生，您要出远门吗？”
“是的，”福克先生回答说，“我们要去环游地球。”
路路通眼睛睁得大大的，眉毛眼皮直往上翻，两臂下垂，整个身子都软瘫了，由于吃惊而产生的各种怪象都在他身上表现出来了。
“环——游——地——球？！”他嘴里咕哝着。
“对，八十天，环游地球，”福克先生回答说，“所以，我们现在一分钟也不能耽搁了。”
“可是，咱们的行李呢？”路路通说着，不由地把脑袋左右直摇晃。
“用不着什么行李，带个旅行袋就成了。里面放两件羊毛衫、三双袜子，等我们出发以后，在路上再给你照样买一套，你去把我的雨衣和旅行毯拿来。你应该带一双结实的鞋子，其实，我们步行的时候很少，也许根本用不着步行。得了，去吧！”
路路通本想说点什么，但说不出来。他离开福克的房间回到自己屋里，一屁股就坐在椅子上，自言自语地说了一句巴黎人常说的俗话：
“好啊，这一下可真够呛，我还打算过安稳日子呢！”
他机械地做着动身前的准备工作。要八十天绕地球一周！我这是跟疯子打交道吗？不会是真的……他大概是在开玩笑？要上杜伏勒去，好吧，还要去加来，行啊，总而言之，出门旅行，这位棒小伙子也并不十分反对。五年以来，他一直没有踏过祖国的大地。这回八成也许会到巴黎去，他能再看看法国的首都当然也很高兴，这位从来不爱多走路的绅上，一定会在巴黎停下来。是的，他确是不爱多走路的，可是，这一回他却真的要出远门了。
八点钟，路路通已经把简单的旅行袋准备好了，里面装着他自己的和主人的衣服。然后，他心神不安地离开了自己的房间，小心地把门锁好，就找福克先生去了。
福克先生也准备好了，他胳臂底下夹着一本布来德肖著的《大陆火车轮船运输总指南》，这本书能给他提供在旅行中所需要的一切指示和说明。他从路路通手中接过旅行袋，打开袋口，顺手塞进一大叠花花绿绿的钞票，这些钞票在世界各地都能通用。
“该办的事都办了吗？没忘记什么？”
“什么也没忘记，先生。”
“我的雨衣和旅行毯呢？”
“喏，在这儿。”
“好极了，拎着这袋子吧。”
福克先生把旅行袋交给路路通，叮嘱他说：“你拿着它可要留点神，里头有两万英镑。”
旅行袋差一点没从路路通手中掉下来，仿佛里头真的装了两万镑金子，显得特别沉重似的。
他们主仆二人就这样走出了大门，并且在门上加了两道锁。
赛微乐街的尽头，有个马车站。福克先生和他的仆人坐上一辆马车，飞也似的向卡瑞因克罗斯车站驶去。这个车站是东南铁路支线的终点站。
八点二十分，马车在车站铁栅栏前停下了。路路通先跳下来，接着他的主人也下了车，付了车资。这时，过来一个要饭的女人，手上拉着个孩子，光着脚，脚上满是污泥，头上戴着一顶破旧不堪的帽子，帽子上插着一根悲切切的羽毛，在她的褴楼的衣衫上，还披着一个破披肩。她走近福克先生，向他讨钱。福克从衣袋内掏出了刚才打牌赢来的那二十个基尼，全都给了这要饭的女人。
“拿去吧！善良的人，”他说，“看到你，我心里很高兴。”
福克先生给完钱就走了。这时路路通觉得自己眼里好象涌出了泪水，心里对他的主人更加尊重。福克和路路通马上走进车站大厅，在那儿，福克叫路路通去买两张到巴黎去的头等车票。这时福克转过身来，看见了改良俱乐部的那五位会友。福克便向他们说道：
“诸位先生，我就要动身了。等我回来时，你们可以根据我护照上的各地签证印鉴，来查对我这次的旅行路线。”
“嗳！福克先生，用不着查对，”高杰·弱夫挺客气地说，“我们相信您是个讲信用的君子。”
“那也是有证明比没有证明好。”福克说。
“您没忘记什么时候该回来？”安得露·斯图阿特提醒他说。
“八十天以后回来，”福克回答说，“也就是在1872年12月21日，星期六，晚上八时四十五分。再见，诸位先生。”
八点四十分，福克先生跟他的仆人在一个车厢里坐了下来，八点四十五分汽笛一响，火车就开了。
夜是漆黑的，外面下着牛毛细雨。福克先生不声不响地坐在他的座位上。路路通还有点茫茫然似的，他只是机械地紧压着那个装钞票的旅行袋。
但是，当火车还没有到锡德纳姆的时候，路路通突然绝望地大叫了一声。
“你怎么了？”福克忙问。
“因为……因为……在忙乱中……我忘了……”
“忘了什么？”
“忘了把我屋里的煤气关上了。”
“哦，好小伙子，”福克先生冷冰冰地说，“回来点的瓦斯归你出钱。”