Original subtitles

Jules Verne wrote many books.

He was able to transfer his soaring imagination to print.

His predictions were bold.

What he wrote was regarded as fantastic fiction...

but much of it has become fact.

Flying machines, submarines, television, rockets.

But not even his imagination could shrink the earth...

to the point it has now reached.

He wrote a book called From the Earth to the Moon.

And in Paris, that authentic genius Georges M�li�s...

turned it into a movie, 35 millimeter...

just as you're looking at it now.

It was, of course, fantasy.

But as of now, no one has yet gone to the moon...

to see whether M�li�s was right.

Here is the actual film as M�li�s' camera recorded it...

at the turn of the century.

I suppose that since man began to walk upright...

he has been interested in space and speed.

He has wondered increasingly about the planets he sees in the sky.

The stretching fingertips of science have moved him higher and faster...

than man has ever moved before.

One of Jules Verne's characters, a fanatic and a dreamer...

argues for the construction of a rocket to the moon.

After reasoned discourse, the venture is launched.

This is the first photographic dissolve.

This is a do-it-yourself rocket.

Rockets have changed. Photography has changed.

Costumes have changed.

But some things remain unchanged, even in Verne and M�li�s'imagination.

Jules Verne's rocket returns to the earth...

a minor planet, where fiction lags behind fact.

Ten, nine...

eight, seven, six, five...

four, three, two, one. Fire!

There is, in this power of destruction...

also the promise of hope.

A world of unlimited power and limitless hope.

Man has devised a method of destroying most of humanity...

or of lifting it up to high plateaus of prosperity and progress...

never dreamed of by the boldest dreamer.

You are now looking at the receding shape of this planet Earth.

This is how the earth looks from a camera in the rocket.

Jules Verne wrote a book about going around the world in 80 days.

He even predicted it could be done in 80 hours.

Today it can be done in less than half that time.

But each journey must have an end.

Speed is good only when wisdom leads the way.

The end of this journey...

whether to the high horizons of hope or the depths of destruction...

will be determined by the collective wisdom...

of the people who live on this shrinking planet.

There was a time not so long ago when learned men thought that was flat.

Around The World In 80 Days is the Jules Verne classic.

And the world was already shrinking when it was written.

And that was in 1872.

Get your morning paper here. All about the bank robbery here.

Paper, sir?

-Good morning, sir. -Good morning, Thorndyke.

-Hinshaw. -Yes, sir.

Someone's been tampering with my Telegraph. The pages are crushed.

One of the members borrowed it to read about the robbery.

You mean it's been used?

-Kindly remove it and send for a fresh one. -At once, sir.

I'm a patient man, Hinshaw, but don't trespass on my good feelings.

Pilbeam ! Did you hear that?

-Some fellow stole that chap's paper. -The devil you say!

Word of honor.

First time it's happened here, to my knowledge, in 45 years.

The club's going to the dogs.

Next thing you know, the members will be talking to each other!

-Yes, it's the thin end of the wedge. -Oh, dog!

-Ice, my lord? -Ice?

Certainly not. What do I look like, a polar bear?

Sorry, sir. Several of the members use it now and then.

Learned it from some Yankee, I dare say. Those redskins over there drink anything.

A dangerous custom, as I've always thought, sir.

A man might catch a nasty chill on his liver.

Or break a tooth.

Remind me to speak to the House committee about it.

No, by Gad! I'll write a letter to The Times.

-I say, Hinshaw. -Yes, Mr. Mockridge?

Must we have that confounded animal around here, stamping its feet?

-Mind the horses! -That bloke is barmy!

There's a sight!

Move over! Move that confounded contraption!

When I placed you with Mr. Fogg a fortnight ago...

I warned you that he was an eccentric.

An eccentric, Mr. Hesketh-Baggott? The man's a tyrant.

A cold-hearted, implacable fiend.

Must I remind you that you are speaking of a member of the Reform Club?

I don't care if he's member of the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers.

The man's mad!

Actually, excessive sanity is not a necessary qualification...

for that particular institution.

Believe me, sir, he is not human.

Do you know how many valets he's had in six months?

Certainly I do. I've supplied him with five of them myself.

And are you aware that he tortured them with a refinement of cruelty...

which would have put Torquemada and the entire Spanish Inquisition to shame!

He's as cold and methodical as those two watches he carries about with him.

You are abandoning yourself to rhetoric.

Remember, you've been rigorously trained as a gentleman's gentleman.

A gentleman's gentleman is one thing, sir.

A whimpering, cringing...

slave is another.

You are allowing your native imperturbability...

to be swept away by a spate of mounting hysteria.

-You really must calm down. -I can't help it, sir.

If you knew how ardently I have worked for Mr. Fogg...

how enthusiastically I have endeavored to cater to his every whim.

His bath water had to be exactly one foot, three and one-quarter inches.

No less, no more.

His morning toast had to be 83 degrees Fahrenheit.

-No more, no less. -Extraordinary.

How does one take the temperature of toast?

Incidentally...

have you found out anything definite about him?

Who he is, what he does?

-Not the faintest indication, sir. Have you? -Alas, no.

All I have discovered is entirely negative.

He is not a professional man, and he isn't in trade.

He has no family connections or background worth mentioning.

He doesn't go in for hunting, or fishing, or wenching.

Cannot imagine how he ever got into the Reform Club!

Perhaps your uncle the Bishop might inquire for you.

-He is a member, is he not? -One of the most distinguished, Foster.

We are a very ancient family, you know.

I was just rather curious about our precious Mr. Fogg.

I suppose he'll be hectoring me soon for someone to fill your place.

Thank you for your cooperation, Foster.

We must pray for guidance.

You have a nice little position for a gentleman's gentleman, sir?

-For you? -Yes, sir.

Never doubt for one instant, Foster...

the efficacy of prayer.

What is your name?

Passepartout.

I am from a very ancient family, sir.

Obviously.

You've had a rather speckled career, I see. Professor of gymnastics--

-Yes, sir. Watch. -No demonstrations, please.

Trapeze artist, fireman, chimney sweep.

-Amazing. How did you come to England? -In a clothes basket, sir.

I escaped.

-From what? -Women, sir.

A ladies' man?

There are no women in this household.

Now, my conditions are strict.

My timetable never varies.

When I say breakfast at 8:24...

-I do not mean at 8:23 or at 8:25. -Yes, sir.

-Do you have a watch? -Yes, sir.

It's probably wrong.

Very well. See that you behave yourself.

Any tomfoolery and out you go.

Come on, Ralph, don't be so secretive. You're one of the governors of the bank.

Yes. Let's have some lurid details.

Nothing to tell. You've read the newspapers.

They always exaggerate.

You mean to say the thief actually got away with Pound55,000?

He did, in brand new bank notes.

Large denominations, Pound500 or Pound1,000 each.

How did you know? We didn't disclose that to the press.

I assumed it.

Pound55,000 of small currency would have needed a handcart to transport it.

It must have been compact enough to stuff into one's pockets.

You're right. The man's audacity staggers the imagination.

Imagine sauntering up to the head cashier's table...

and pilfering a sum like that from under his nose.

Serves you right, in a way.

Surely you have a better hiding place for your funds than the cashier's nose.

Your persiflage does not amuse. This has been an unexpected blow to us.

Unexpected, Mr. Ralph?

Bankers must expect robbery the same way chickens expect hawks.

It's an occupational hazard. My lead, I believe.

By the way, what was the head cashier doing at the time?

He was writing a receipt for the three-shilling deposit.

Go ahead and jeer. We'll lay the culprit by the heels soon enough.

We've notified detectives all over the world...

from Liverpool to Cairo.

We've issued descriptions throughout Europe and America. He won't get far.

I wouldn't underestimate him if I were you.

You're dealing with a rather exceptional person.

Really? In what way?

Only a cool and logical man could have engineered such an exploit.

Obviously a gentleman with a considerable presence of mind.

You seem to know rather more about this affair than the police.

Merely what one might deduce from the facts.

Our trick.

If you ask me, I'd say the odds were in favor of the thief.

If he's a resourceful chap, as Fogg says, he'll find plenty of places to hide.

Yes. The world's a pretty large affair, after all.

It was 100 years ago, not any longer.

A man can girdle the globe now in three months.

Less than that, to be precise. In 80 days.

You mean a complete tour all around the world in 80 days?

I mean just that.

-He's talking nonsense. -No, Fogg may have a point there.

The Great Indian Peninsula Railway was opened a fortnight ago.

That shortens the trip. I read it in The Daily Telegraph.

Hang The Daily Telegraph. I say it's impossible.

Nothing is impossible.

When science conquers the air it may be feasible to circle the globe in 80 hours.

It's a beautiful dream, but I'm talking about this moment...

and I say nobody can go around the world in 80 days.

I agree.

Even if one made ideal connections at every point...

there'd still be typhoons, shipwrecks, unforeseen delays.

I include the unforeseen.

All very glib, Fogg, but I'd like to see you do it in 80 days.

You're convinced that I could not?

So much so that I'll wager Pound5,000 that you can't.

Let me understand you clearly. Are you formally challenging me...

to undertake a journey around the world in 80 days?

I am, and I'm prepared to back my conviction by posting my check now.

Very well, I accept.

This is absurd. The joke's gone far enough.

An Englishman never jokes about a wager.

I have on deposit at Barings Bank the sum of Pound20,000.

I'm willing to wager any or all of it upon the same contention.

Namely, that I can complete a tour of the world in 80 days.

That is to say, in 1,920 hours or 115,200 minutes.

Would anyone besides Stuart care to participate?

I'm no gambler, but if you want to make foolhardy bets...

that you can't possibly win, I'm afraid I'll be forced to take you on.

I'm with you.

So am I. What about you, Ralph?

My affiliation with the Bank of England naturally precludes my betting...

but as a member of this club I might, under very special circumstances.

Then it's agreed?

-We all accept? -Yes.

Good. If I remember correctly, the boat train for Dover...

leaves London Bridge station at 8:45 tonight.

-I will be on it. -Tonight?

Don't you need some days to settle your affairs...

-to make preparations? -No. I'm quite ready now.

You engage to be back here in London, in the Reform Club...

on Saturday, September 21 at 8:45 p.m.

Right, gentlemen. Clubs, I believe, are still trumps?

Shall we finish the game?

-Yes, please? -Come to my bedroom at once.

Yes, sir.

-I called you twice. -I came as fast as possible, sir.

You are not supposed to be home yet, sir.

My usual routine is beside the point.

We leave for the Continent in 10 minutes.

-Monsieur is going traveling? -Yes. Around the world.

Then you will not be here for breakfast.

Around the world?

Exactly. Now reassemble your faculties and start packing.

Which clothes does monsieur.... I mean, which trunks?

None whatever. Just take two shirts and three pairs of hose for each of us.

-But I have only one shirt, sir. -Then take that.

We'll buy whatever else we need en route. Give me that red bag.

Open it up. We're going to need plenty of money.

Whatever you do, never let this out of your sight.

Monsieur can trust me. I will cherish it like a woman.

Don't make love to it. Just watch it.

Excuse me, sir. My cousin.

Mademoiselle.

Excuse me, sir. It's not my cousin.

Thomas Cook and Son.

You purchase the tickets. I'll be back in a moment.

All right, sir.

Now, monsieur, train to Marseilles...

steamer to Bombay via Suez, across India by train...

and steamer again to Hong Kong.

Only one drawback.

With this route, you miss Bali and the women.

But no, women of Bali cannot be described.

-Please try. -No, monsieur. Words would fail me.

In any case, in Yokohama, you will encounter the geisha girls...

and those, monsieur, are not to be sneezed at.

I shall remember.

In Yokohama, I must not sneeze at geisha girls.

Then, between San Francisco and New York...

you will discover Indian maidens galore...

statuesque, barbaric creatures.

What a crime you have only 80 days.

However, first things first.

Here are your tickets to Marseilles.

Cancel those tickets. They are of no further use to us.

We cannot go by train.

Has something happened? A wreck?

An avalanche has sealed the Montfort tunnel...

and nothing can get through for a week.

Then the roads are blocked, too. How can we go on?

I don't know. But I refuse to be daunted at this stage of the game.

There must be another way. There has to be.

But after all, we are not birds.

We cannot fly across the mountains.

That, monsieur, is not unfeasible, fantastic as it seems.

Isn't she lovely?

I have made 63 ascents, gentlemen...

to an elevation over 1,000 meters.

I've flown through the skies at a speed surpassing that of an eagle.

Are you quite sure this is not just Gallic braggadocio?

You are now addressing the second most-celebrated balloonist in Europe.

-And who is the first? -He is not available.

He was buried last Tuesday.

Tell me, is this apparatus of yours for lease?

If I operate it, yes.

If you do, it's only for sale.

-Passepartout, the bag. -Yes, sir.

-We purchase your balloon, sir. -Thank you, sir.

It's really very simple. We empty out some sand...

and we go up.

Then we pull this...

and with any luck, we come down.

I imagine we release some gas from the top of the balloon.

Gas! I forgot to turn off the gas in my room.

No matter. It will continue to burn, at your expense.

Gentlemen, I think this calls for a restrained celebration.

Guess what's become of the intrepid Mr. Fogg?

-What? -He's drifting over the Alps in a balloon.

What's he doing in one of those?

Don't ask me, but it's here in this paper.

I say, he never mentioned the word balloon.

Not very sporting, is it?

Rather sly, if you ask me. I wouldn't have thought it of old Fogg.

I don't know, seems quite resourceful to me.

English ingenuity, never say die, all that sort of thing.

Does it happen to mention over which Alps he's drifting?

No. I assumed they were the ones in Switzerland.

Use your globe, sir.

Could be the Maritime Alps, in the south of France.

In which case Fogg's not only on schedule, but ahead of it.

We stand to lose Pound20,000.

What was that you said about a celebration, Stuart?

If nobody wants this newspaper, I'll just put it on the table.

The southern perimeter of France.

Often and with justification referred to in the guidebooks as the "Azure Coast."

-The moment is propitious for our descent. -Yes, sir.

The gas valve's stuck, I think. Can you get up there?

I'll try it, master.

They're speaking some bizarre foreign tongue.

-Do you understand them? -Yes.

Ask them how far we are from Marseilles...

and what conveyance they have for us to proceed.

-Why aren't they speaking French? -Because we are in Spain, master.

-Spain? -Yes, sir.

It's a long trip to Marseilles.

But by sea, in a fast boat, 10 hours.

Where would we procure such a boat?

There is one vessel here. The boat of Abdul Achmed of Tangiers.

Where would we find this worthy?

He sleeps by day.

But at night, he's in the Cave of the Seven Winds.

-Think that's the man we're looking for? -I think so, master.

Excuse me, master.

Good evening, sir.

It is forbidden to approach his august personage.

Perhaps you would transmit a message?

I would like to engage his yacht for a quick trip to Marseilles.

I will pay whatever he asks.

The ship is yours, sir. Go where you wish without charge.

However, my master is an aficionado of the bullfight.

That is why he visits here, to see the festival of the bulls.

I do not understand.

He was most interested in your servant's display of cape work.

He would like to see more tomorrow, at the bullfight.

You mean he wants him to enter the ring?

But that will be a massacre!

Please, master. I'm not afraid. Let me try.

Don't push me.

It's the first time I've seen a real bull.

Look at the horns. It's not my size. Try to be nice to me.

My ship is yours.

If you leave now you'll arrive in Marseilles in 10 hours.

The odds are 30-to-1, gentlemen.

Pound50 he doesn't.

-What was that, Mr. Vermilyea? -I said, Pound50 he doesn't.

And Pound150 he does.

Why delude ourselves? Even if the odds do go down...

we know that Fogg got from Marseilles to Brindisi in time to catch the Mongolia.

But supposing he doesn't get to Suez in time?

His itinerary's thrown out of schedule.

He can't possibly get from Bombay to Calcutta in time for his connection.

Our money's as safe, gentlemen, as if it were in the Bank of England.

Sorry.

A bulletin, gentlemen. A late bulletin.

Mr. Phileas Fogg has arrived at Suez!

-Name, sir? -Passepartout.

-Thank you. -Here! Just a minute.

Where's the gentleman who owns this passport, this Mr. Phileas Fogg?

-My master is staying on board. -Indeed.

He'll have to report in person to the British Consulate...

to establish his identity.

-Is that necessary? -Not necessary, mandatory.

It's mandatory. This is different, sir.

Mr. Fogg is at lunch now, but I will give him your message.

Hello there.

Going sightseeing? Perhaps I can help.

I have to buy some clothing for Mr. Fogg.

I can show you an excellent place quite nearby.

Monsieur is very kind.

You see, my master and I came away without our clothes.

Then I take it you left London hastily?

Forty-five minutes after he told me...

-we are off around the world. -Around the world?

Yes, sir. Around the world in 80 days.

He says it's a wager.

But confidentially, between you and me, I don't believe a word of it.

Something else in the wind?

I understand he gave the officers of the Mongolia a bonus...

-to get the ship here ahead of time. -Yes, sir.

He must be a very rich man.

You can't imagine how much money we carry with us...

all in brand-new bank notes.

I'm sure you can take good care of him.

No doubt you've been with Mr. Fogg for years.

No, sir. On the contrary.

I entered his service only the day we left London.

Indeed.

So he turned up, did he?

Yes, and he gave every indication of being a thoroughly honest fellow.

Or a very shrewd article.

Here's the description of the robber I received from London.

Yes. It tallies exactly. What do you propose to do?

Notify London to send a warrant to Bombay...

accompany him there and arrest him the moment he sets foot on British soil.

Very enterprising of you, Fix.

A nice ocean voyage at the expense of Scotland Yard?

I beg your pardon, sir. I see my duty, and I do it.

Thank you, sir.

I beg pardon, gentlemen, we're expecting rather hot weather tomorrow...

so I've arranged the menu accordingly:

"Cold breast of chicken, potted meats and brawn...

-"curried lamb and rice." -Capital.

Curry's the only dish for a chap in this filthy climate.

Purifies the blood, tones up the system.

My luncheon will remain the same, steward.

Kindly adhere to my instructions.

Of course, sir. But all that food on a hot day?

Steward, my Thursday midday meal has always been...

and will always be hot soup, fried sole...

roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, baked potatoes, suet pudding and treacle.

Your deal, monsieur.

We meet again. Feeling the heat a bit, are you?

How about a nice lemon squash or a beer?

-It's good. -Steward.

Bring two lemon squashes.

Great stroke of luck we happen to be on the same ship.

And both going to Bombay.

Yes. A strange coincidence.

-Have you made this trip before? -Yes, often.

I'm one of the agents for the steamship company.

-You know India well? -My dear fellow...

I doubt if there are five men who know it as I do.

The mosques, the minarets, the elephants, the snakes.

What about the women?

Yes. The women. Superb.

-In what way superb? -Goddesses. Ravishing.

But listen, this tour of your master's...

what do you think his real purpose is?

Perhaps it's only a secret diplomatic mission.

I tell you, Mr. Fix. I really know nothing about it.

Don't change the conversation. Tell me more about these Indian women.

Now, let me see.

Would you excuse me? I will be back in a minute.

Bombay by dawn tomorrow, Mr. Fogg. Two days ahead of schedule.

-That's a new record for the run. -A remarkable achievement, Captain...

and one that deserves adequate recognition.

-My compliments to you. -Thank you.

And to the chief engineer. As arranged.

Listen carefully.

Here's the list of the gear we'll need on our journey to Calcutta.

While you're getting that, I'll deal with the passports and the tickets.

The train leaves at 4:00. We'll meet at the railway station.

How dare you! That's a sacred animal!

We've no warrant for this fellow's arrest. The whole thing is highly irregular.

But he's the culprit, I swear to you.

Wait a moment. I have an idea. You issue the order for this arrest.

What? I couldn't do a thing like that!

Not even for a reward of Pound2,000?

Needless to say, I'd be willing to divide it.

Pound1,000? No, Mr. Fix.

The matter involves London.

And the London office alone can legally deliver the warrant.

Once Fogg's outside British jurisdiction, I'll never get him.

Quite. Good heavens! 4:00. It's tea time.

Yes, I know. But this is a crisis.

Crisis or no, nothing should interfere with tea.

Devil take the man. Where can he be?

Pattering after some woman or other, I suppose.

These foreigners, you know.

Come on, man! Come on!

-Thank you. -There will be no further fiddle-faddle.

Years gone...

there was a time when one could scarcely travel...

in this part of the country without encountering corpses.

Those infamous stranglers.

What did you say the name of the sect was?

Thuggee.

Individual members are known as Thugs.

They worship Kali, the goddess of death.

They slay without discrimination. Any age, sex, color.

How did you finally manage to stamp them out?

We didn't. Not entirely.

Our constabulary managed to diminish the number of murders...

but we're forced to recognize the Thuggee still exists.

Every few months we come across a few of the wretches with their ghastly rites.

Strange we should stop hereabouts.

Timetable makes no mention of a station in this vicinity.

I have no idea.

I haven't been on this line since they announced its completion.

Excuse me, sir. What is the difficulty?

Difficulty? None whatever.

This is the end of the line.

-End of the line? -Yes.

There's still 50 miles of track to be laid between here and Allahabad.

The London newspapers announced the opening of the railway throughout.

Must've been The Daily Telegraph. Never would've read it in The Times.

The fact remains that you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta ! That's fraud.

I shall take this up with the Viceroy!

The notice in our Bombay station is quite clearly posted, as it is here:

"Passengers must provide their own transportation...

"between Kholby and Allahabad."

-Through the bush? -I'm sorry if this inconveniences.

It does indeed.

I happen to be rejoining my brigade, the 10th Jubbulpore.

My friend stands to lose a considerable sum of money.

Not at all. I made provision for precisely that sort of eventuality.

You couldn't have foreseen this.

No, but I did expect some such obstacle to arise en route.

And I took the precaution of gaining two days while crossing the Arabian Sea.

A steamer leaves Calcutta at noon on the 25th for Hong Kong.

Our only problem is to find some form of conveyance from here to Allahabad.

Other than the oxcart, nothing can get through that jungle.

-What about an elephant? -I do know of one...

but I doubt if the owner would part with her.

-Why not? -She sleeps in the house, with the family.

A pet.

Pound1,000 for an elephant? It's outrageous! You've been diddled.

Undoubtedly, but it's not often one needs an elephant in a hurry.

-What is that? -A Royal Bengal Tiger.

They rarely attack an elephant.

-What the deuce are you doing? -Quiet, sir.

-Is bad. -What is it?

It's a religious procession of some sort. Rather sticky if they spot us.

I think we had better look into this.

Kali, the goddess of love and death.

Sahib, please! If they hear our voices we will be slain.

-Suttee. -What do you mean by that?

A human sacrifice, but a voluntary one.

The lady you've just seen is to be burned on her husband's funeral pyre.

Scoundrels.

You actually mean that unfortunate woman will be burned alive?

She's quite resigned to it. It's a matter of religious belief.

This area's not under British jurisdiction. Nothing we can do.

Forgive me, sahib. But the lady does not wish to commit suttee.

-She is being forced. -What?

Everyone knows of this affair.

Her husband was a rajah and very influential.

-The custom is that she must die with him. -Where's this murder to take place?

The pagoda of Pillaji. Two miles from here.

What if we decided to save her?

-You can't interfere with native affairs. -Why not?

It isn't done!

My master does things other people do not, sir.

Do you think you can you rescue Aouda?

-Is that the lady's name? -Yes, sahib. Aouda.

Very fine person. Very beautiful. She was educated in England.

That decides it.

General, we place ourselves under your command.

Right. Now, our first step is to reconnoiter.

Follow me.

There are guards all about the temple.

-I can't seem to find an opening. -And the princess?

-Inside. Surrounded by armed men. -What course would you suggest?

Simple. Outflank the beggars.

Here's the temple. No, here.

Here's the funeral pyre.

We create a distractionary action here, start a sortie here.

-General, I have a plan. -Please!

Then we infiltrate the guards from the rear.

-Excellent. -Exactly. Only one problem.

This plan can't possibly work with less than 75 men.

So speaking as a strategist...

I should say our position here is untenable.

Whatever the odds, I'm determined to abstract that woman.

Even though we're only four. Passepartout--

Now where the devil is he?

Hurry up! Come on!

-Gentlemen, you have rescued me! -No demonstrations of gratitude.

Allow me to help you.

"Speechless at the violation of a native temple...

"and the abduction of an Indian princess...

"by Mr. Phileas Fogg, the authorities have arrested him."

"An Indian princess." Lucky dog!

An absolute scandal, according to this. The whole peninsula's up in arms.

Wonder what she's like. A handsome creature, I'll be bound.

Always thought Fogg had a twinkle in his eye.

Handsome or not, this barging about a native temple...

with one's boots on is a serious matter.

Could've been, if he hadn't posted bail and caught the next ship.

I think our colleague's a good bit cleverer than we supposed.

A devious type, I'd rather say.

Let me see, if he's on the S.S. Rangoon...

he must be halfway to Hong Kong by now.

Somewhere here.

So I did the only decent thing a man could do.

-You mean-- -Yes, I finessed my queen of hearts...

and forced Finch-Tattersall to sacrifice his ace.

It was a tense moment.

I wish you'd seen Lord Dudley's expression.

Poor fellow went dead white. Bit clean through his pipe stem.

-But I'm afraid I've bored you. -How can you say that, Mr. Fogg?

I don't think in my entire life....

That's the most enthralling story I've ever heard.

You really mean that? I'm most awfully pleased.

-It's so personal and yet dramatic. -That's exactly the way I feel about it!

I had no idea you were so keen about whist.

I adore it. There is a kind of precision about it.

I've always admired men who are precise...

who have a sense of order and discipline.

-You don't say that? -Yes, for example...

I simply cannot abide a man who isn't punctual.

It's extraordinary how well you put it.

We have so little time in our brief mortal span.

My dear princess, I must ask your forgiveness.

-Why, whatever for? -I completely forgot to...

offer my condolences upon your bereavement.

-What? -To extend my sympathy...

for your anguish at this time of grief.

-But I don't feel any grief, Mr. Fogg. -None at all?

You see, I was a wife in name only.

I met the late rajah exactly once, at the age of seven...

before my parents sent me to England for my education.

You never saw him again?

Never.

Would you care to hear about the time I drew a flush hand in diamonds?

If you'd care to confide in me.

Is Mr. Fogg always so proper, haughty and formal?

Believe me, Madame, I know nothing about him...

except that he lives by this.

Have there been any women in his life?

I assume he must have had a mother, but I am not certain.

Perhaps he has some secret sorrow, some love who jilted him.

He has only one love. Cards. Whist.

He thinks of nothing but whist, morning, noon, and night.

Very interesting.

Yes, he's a cool article, Mr. Talley. A very unpredictable cove.

Just when you think you've cornered him, he gives you the slip.

-Got you puzzled, has he? -Yes, by jingo, he has.

Look at this heathen young woman, for instance, this Mrs. Aouda.

I know my man.

And I tell you, she don't fit into the pattern.

He was down here, you know, about an hour ago.

He was?

-What did he want? -This, that, and the other.

He was quizzing me about steamships out of Hong Kong.

-For where? -Yokohama.

We're due at Hong Kong at noon tomorrow.

He sails on the S.S. Carnatic at 8:00 the next day.

That's what he thinks, but I'll nail him this time...

you can pledge your last farthing on that.

You didn't do so well in Calcutta, according to you.

What could I do?

I got him and his servant's bail set at Pound1,000 apiece.

And he hands it over without batting a lash.

If that blasted warrant had only arrived....

Cheer up. You've got 20 hours to get him in Hong Kong before the Carnatic sails.

Yes, sir, I'll lag the blighter there if I have to turn out the Governor to do it!

Bulldog tenacity, Mr. Fix, that's the spirit that built an empire.

"134 Lower Lascar Row, Victoria."

We will now go in search of your uncle, Mr. Cominjee.

Here, follow that rickshaw, chop-chop!

Here's a pretty kettle of fish.

A man trying to run a business and the door's locked. I wonder what....

Boss man here? Him back pretty soon?

I should say the probabilities are strongly against it.

I beg your pardon. Where is Mr. Cominjee?

In Holland, I believe.

He amassed a considerable fortune by means I shall not attempt to describe...

and has retired to Amsterdam to raise tulips.

He might at least have left a card on his door to that effect.

The gentleman was quite illiterate, sir, and moreover, he was pressed for time.

He retired 10 minutes before the constables arrived.

That alters things quite a bit.

Obviously the princess cannot remain here, alone, in Hong Kong.

-There seems to be only one alternative. -I know what you're going to say...

but please don't send me back to India.

If you will excuse me, sir, I agree with the princess.

You know she has suffered very much.

Your fears are groundless. I have no intention of returning her to India.

She is our responsibility and will continue with us to Europe.

I'll escort her to the Royal Court Hotel and find accommodation for tonight.

You will buy the tickets.

Three cabins on the Carnatic, sailing tomorrow morning for Yokohama.

-And don't dilly-dally. -Not dilly-dally.

Here, you, follow that ostrich!

Giddy up!

Strike me, it's my old friend off the Rangoon.

Hello, sir. Excuse me one minute.

Three cabins on the steamer Carnatic, please.

Yes, sir. There's been a slight change in the schedule, sir.

She sails tonight instead of in the morning as planned.

-I didn't know, but all the better. -Thank you.

That will be all.

-I trust that you will be comfortable here. -Yes, thank you. I'm sure I will.

It's very kind of you to concern yourself about me.

Not at all.

Since you are temporarily alone, the least I can do is look after your welfare.

I'm afraid I must have been a burden.

Quite the reverse, I assure you. Your company has been most welcome.

I only wish I could express my infinite gratitude.

Please, you shouldn't do that sort of thing.

Mr. Fogg, why must you be so British?

-Madam, I am what I am. -No.

You're kind and warm and generous.

Would you care to join me on the veranda? They serve an outstanding lemon squash.

If you wish.

-I see you're leaving Hong Kong. -Correct, my friend.

-And 12 hours ahead of time. -Think of that.

Nothing stops you and Mr. Fogg, does it?

-What name do you want on these tickets? -Just copy these.

Look here, since we may not see each other again...

why don't we have a little farewell drink together?

Good idea.

Nice and cozy.

Over here.

Remember, we don't have very much time. I have to get my tickets.

Nonsense. We'll send a boy for them. Here, you.

You know the Transpacific Steamship Company in Canton Road?

-Near post office? -Yes. Send someone over there.

Pick up tickets for Mr. Passepartout.

-Passport, too? -Yes.

-Thank you, sir. -Well, what will it be?

-A lemon squash. -Poppycock.

I said I'd buy you a drink, and I meant a man's drink.

All right, anything you want, but not too strong, please.

My friend and I will have a Hong Kong Snickersnee.

-What is that? -It's indescribable. Liquid music.

It warms the heart, fires the imagination, broadens the horizon--

-What's happening? -Local color.

A sort of a show they put on for the tourists.

Looks very real to me.

They're just boisterous children. Ignore them.

Now, look here, Passepartout.

You've been square with me and I intend to behave the same.

Do you still think I'm an agent for those fellows at the Reform Club?

-No, but I don't know what you are. -Then I'll tell you.

I'm a professional detective.

And I'm in pursuit of a very cunning, very slippery criminal.

Who?

Phileas Fogg, Esq., of Savile Row, London.

-What? My master? -The same.

What do you want from me?

Time. Just help me delay him 24 hours till my warrant arrives.

All I need is a little cooperation on your part.

A little cooperation? Do you think I'd betray Mr. Fogg?

I don't care how much money you offer me--

All right, you needn't get angry. I don't blame you, in a way.

It shows you're a loyal and trustworthy chap, and I respect that.

Here. Let's have a little libation on the altar of friendship.

You insult my master. I don't want to drink with you.

Rot. You told me where you stood.

And I say bravo to a man who sticks to his principles.

Here. Confusion to the enemies of the Crown.

I can't believe it.

Honorable gentleman feeling better this morning?

What are you doing here?

Why is the hotel moving this way?

What? Steamship, not hotel. You're on board the steamship Carnatic.

Yes. We go Shanghai, then we go Yokohama.

Finished?

-Where is Mr. Fogg's cabin? -Next door.

But Mr. Fogg not on board.

-What about the princess? -Princess? No, you come alone.

Police, they find ticket in your pocket.

Carry you here. You sleep like baby.

I betrayed my master. Everything is lost.

What about my money?

-They robbed me, too. -Is bad.

You not like Yokohama.

You not have money, Yokohama not like you.

I betrayed my master.

My good man, I realize the Carnatic couldn't wait.

The point now is what other vessel can we get?

Nothing that could make the voyage to Yokohama, sir.

No steam packet, tug, or lighter?

There must be something in a port this size.

At the moment, not a thing.

Good morning, Mr. Fogg.

-I'm afraid I don't-- -We traveled together on the Rangoon.

-My name is Fix. -Yes, Mr. Fix. How do you do?

-I believe you know my manservant? -Very slightly.

-Why? Has something happened to him? -The fellow seems to have disappeared.

-I'm sorry to hear that. He's a nice chap. -I shall have to inform the police.

I shouldn't do that if I were you. He'll turn up.

-Missed your boat? -Yes.

-There'll be another along in a week. -I shall not be here.

-No? -Yokohama is my destination...

I shall get there if I have to swim.

Are we on a direct course for Yokohama?

The Carnatic is bound first for Shanghai.

We may arrive in Yokohama the day after her.

We're still in plenty of time to catch the General Grant for San Francisco.

Very sporting of you to let me share your craft, Mr. Fogg.

Nonsense. Anything for a fellow Englishman.

I trust your cousin in San Francisco will be better by the time we arrive.

-Poor old Marmaduke. -Thank you.

Princess.

Fish, Fix?

Steady, Mr. Fix. Fujiyama ahead. We'll be in Yokohama by morning.

There's the Carnatic.

I imagine that steamship just behind her is the General Grant.

Now the only thing missing is Passepartout.

The police in Hong Kong said they put him on board.

They also said he was penniless. So we may have one clue.

The man is a jack of all trades. He's told me a few of them.

We might be able to find him by deduction.

That is the new science employed by our British police.

Really? I learn something useful every moment I'm with you, Mr. Fogg.

I hope you find your man.

Two orchestra stalls, please.

Great Scott. Look.

Master!

-Master, what genius to find me. -Merely logic. Now come along.

The General Grant is preparing to sail, and we haven't a moment to lose.

What a pity.

Mr. Fogg has already organized his whist game.

Princess, Mr. Fix is a detective.

He thinks Mr. Fogg has robbed the Bank of England.

Nothing escapes Mr. Fogg.

But Mr. Fix won't delay us. We're out of British jurisdiction now.