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After breakfast, Mr. Fogg, accompanied by Aouda, started for
the English consulate to have his passport visaed. As he was
going out, he met Passepartout, who asked him if it would not be well,
before taking the train, to purchase some dozens of Enfield rifles
and Colt's revolvers. He had been listening to stories of attacks
upon the trains by the Sioux and Pawnees. Mr. Fogg thought it
a useless precaution, but told him to do as he thought best,
and went on to the consulate.
He had not proceeded two hundred steps, however, when, "by the
greatest chance in the world," he met Fix. The detective seemed
wholly taken by surprise. What! Had Mr. Fogg and himself
crossed the Pacific together, and not met on the steamer!
At least Fix felt honoured to behold once more the gentleman
to whom he owed so much, and, as his business recalled him to Europe,
he should be delighted to continue the journey in such pleasant company.
Mr. Fogg replied that the honour would be his; and the detective--
who was determined not to lose sight of him--begged permission
to accompany them in their walk about San Francisco--a request
which Mr. Fogg readily granted.
They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where a great
crowd was collected; the side-walks, street, horsecar rails,
the shop-doors, the windows of the houses, and even the roofs,
were full of people. Men were going about carrying large posters,
and flags and streamers were floating in the wind; while loud cries
were heard on every hand.
"Hurrah for Camerfield!"
"Hurrah for Mandiboy!"
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