"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,
and the party were soon landed on one of the quays.
The Rangoon was moored half a mile off in the harbour, its signal
of departure hoisted at the mast-head. Eleven o'clock was striking;
Mr. Fogg was an hour in advance of time. Fix saw them leave the carriage and
push off in a boat for the steamer, and stamped his feet with disappointment.
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