["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> The circumstances under which this telegraphic dispatch about Phileas\nFogg was sent were as follows:\n\nThe steamer Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company,\nbuilt of iron, of two thousand eight hundred tons burden, and five\nhundred horse-power, was due at eleven o'clock a.m. on Wednesday, the\n9th of October, at Suez. The Mongolia plied regularly between Brindisi\nand Bombay via the Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest steamers\nbelonging to the company, always making more than ten knots an hour\nbetween Brindisi and Suez, and nine and a half between Suez and Bombay. Two men were promenading up and down the wharves, among the crowd of\nnatives and strangers who were sojourning at this once straggling\nvillage--now, thanks to the enterprise of M. Lesseps, a fast-growing\ntown. One was the British consul at Suez, who, despite the prophecies\nof the English Government, and the unfavourable predictions of\nStephenson, was in the habit of seeing, from his office window, English\nships daily passing to and fro on the great canal, by which the old\nroundabout route from England to India by the Cape of Good Hope was\nabridged by at least a half. The other was a small, slight-built\npersonage, with a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes peering\nout from under eyebrows which he was incessantly twitching. He was\njust now manifesting unmistakable signs of impatience, nervously pacing\nup and down, and unable to stand still for a moment. This was Fix, one\nof the detectives who had been dispatched from England in search of the\nbank robber; it was his task to narrowly watch every passenger who\narrived at Suez, and to follow up all who seemed to be suspicious\ncharacters, or bore a resemblance to the description of the criminal,\nwhich he had received two days before from the police headquarters at\nLondon. The detective was evidently inspired by the hope of obtaining\nthe splendid reward which would be the prize of success, and awaited\nwith a feverish impatience, easy to understand, the arrival of the\nsteamer Mongolia. \"So you say, consul,\" asked he for the twentieth time, \"that this\nsteamer is never behind time?\" \"No, Mr. Fix,\" replied the consul. \"She was bespoken yesterday at Port\nSaid, and the rest of the way is of no account to such a craft. I\nrepeat that the Mongolia has been in advance of the time required by\nthe company's regulations, and gained the prize awarded for excess of\nspeed.\" \"Does she come directly from Brindisi?\" \"Directly from Brindisi; she takes on the Indian mails there, and she\nleft there Saturday at five p.m.  Have patience, Mr. Fix; she will not\nbe late. But really, I don't see how, from the description you have,\nyou will be able to recognise your man, even if he is on board the\nMongolia.\" \"A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than\nrecognises them. You must have a scent for them, and a scent is like a\nsixth sense which combines hearing, seeing, and smelling. I've\narrested more than one of these gentlemen in my time, and, if my thief\nis on board, I'll answer for it; he'll not slip through my fingers.\" \"I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery.\" \"A magnificent robbery, consul; fifty-five thousand pounds! We don't\noften have such windfalls. Burglars are getting to be so contemptible\nnowadays! A fellow gets hung for a handful of shillings!\" \"Mr. Fix,\" said the consul, \"I like your way of talking, and hope\nyou'll succeed; but I fear you will find it far from easy. Don't you\nsee, the description which you have there has a singular resemblance to\nan honest man?\" \"Consul,\" remarked the detective, dogmatically, \"great robbers always\nresemble honest folks. Fellows who have rascally faces have only one\ncourse to take, and that is to remain honest; otherwise they would be\narrested off-hand. The artistic thing is, to unmask honest\ncountenances; it's no light task, I admit, but a real art.\" Mr. Fix evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit. Little by little the scene on the quay became more animated; sailors of\nvarious nations, merchants, ship-brokers, porters, fellahs, bustled to\nand fro as if the steamer were immediately expected. The weather was\nclear, and slightly chilly. The minarets of the town loomed above the\nhouses in the pale rays of the sun. A jetty pier, some two thousand\nyards along, extended into the roadstead. A number of fishing-smacks\nand coasting boats, some retaining the fantastic fashion of ancient\ngalleys, were discernible on the Red Sea. As he passed among the busy crowd, Fix, according to habit, scrutinised\nthe passers-by with a keen, rapid glance. It was now half-past ten. \"The steamer doesn't come!\" he exclaimed, as the port clock struck. \"She can't be far off now,\" returned his companion. \"How long will she stop at Suez?\" \"Four hours; long enough to get in her coal. It is thirteen hundred\nand ten miles from Suez to Aden, at the other end of the Red Sea, and\nshe has to take in a fresh coal supply.\" \"And does she go from Suez directly to Bombay?\" \"Without putting in anywhere.\" \"Good!\" said Fix. \"If the robber is on board he will no doubt get off\nat Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies in Asia by some\nother route. He ought to know that he would not be safe an hour in\nIndia, which is English soil.\" \"Unless,\" objected the consul, \"he is exceptionally shrewd. An English\ncriminal, you know, is always better concealed in London than anywhere\nelse.\" This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and\nmeanwhile the consul went away to his office. Fix, left alone, was\nmore impatient than ever, having a presentiment that the robber was on\nboard the Mongolia. If he had indeed left London intending to reach\nthe New World, he would naturally take the route via India, which was\nless watched and more difficult to watch than that of the Atlantic. But Fix's reflections were soon interrupted by a succession of sharp\nwhistles, which announced the arrival of the Mongolia. The porters and\nfellahs rushed down the quay, and a dozen boats pushed off from the\nshore to go and meet the steamer. Soon her gigantic hull appeared\npassing along between the banks, and eleven o'clock struck as she\nanchored in the road. She brought an unusual number of passengers,\nsome of whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the\ntown, while the greater part disembarked in the boats, and landed on\nthe quay. Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face and figure\nwhich made its appearance. Presently one of the passengers, after\nvigorously pushing his way through the importunate crowd of porters,\ncame up to him and politely asked if he could point out the English\nconsulate, at the same time showing a passport which he wished to have\nvisaed. Fix instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance\nread the description of its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise\nnearly escaped him, for the description in the passport was identical\nwith that of the bank robber which he had received from Scotland Yard. \"Is this your passport?\" asked he. \"No, it's my master's.\" \"And your master is--\"\n\n\"He stayed on board.\" \"But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his\nidentity.\" \"Oh, is that necessary?\" \"Quite indispensable.\" \"And where is the consulate?\" \"There, on the corner of the square,\" said Fix, pointing to a house two\nhundred steps off. \"I'll go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however, to be\ndisturbed.\" The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer. The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly made his way to the\nconsul's office, where he was at once admitted to the presence of that\nofficial. \"Consul,\" said he, without preamble, \"I have strong reasons for\nbelieving that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia.\" And he narrated\nwhat had just passed concerning the passport. \"Well, Mr. Fix,\" replied the consul, \"I shall not be sorry to see the\nrascal's face; but perhaps he won't come here--that is, if he is the\nperson you suppose him to be. A robber doesn't quite like to leave\ntraces of his flight behind him; and, besides, he is not obliged to\nhave his passport countersigned.\" \"If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will come.\" \"To have his passport visaed?\" \"Yes.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-01, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-02 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Passports are only good for annoying honest folks, and aiding in\nthe flight of rogues. I assure you it will be quite the thing for him\nto do; but I hope you will not visa the passport.\" \"Why not? If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse.\" \"Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest\nhim from London.\" \"Ah, that's your look-out. But I cannot--\"\n\nThe consul did not finish his sentence, for as he spoke a knock was\nheard at the door, and two strangers entered, one of whom was the\nservant whom Fix had met on the quay. The other, who was his master,\nheld out his passport with the request that the consul would do him the\nfavour to visa it. The consul took the document and carefully read it,\nwhilst Fix observed, or rather devoured, the stranger with his eyes\nfrom a corner of the room. \"You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?\" said the consul, after reading the passport. \"I am.\" \"And this man is your servant?\" \"He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout.\" \"You are from London?\" \"Yes.\" \"And you are going--\"\n\n\"To Bombay.\" \"Very good, sir. You know that a visa is useless, and that no passport\nis required?\" \"I know it, sir,\" replied Phileas Fogg; \"but I wish to prove, by your\nvisa, that I came by Suez.\" \"Very well, sir.\" The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he\nadded his official seal. Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee, coldly\nbowed, and went out, followed by his servant. \"Well?\" queried the detective. \"Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man,\" replied the\nconsul. \"Possibly; but that is not the question. Do you think, consul, that\nthis phlegmatic gentleman resembles, feature by feature, the robber\nwhose description I have received?\" \"I concede that; but then, you know, all descriptions--\"\n\n\"I'll make certain of it,\" interrupted Fix. \"The servant seems to me\nless mysterious than the master; besides, he's a Frenchman, and can't\nhelp talking. Excuse me for a little while, consul.\" Fix started off in search of Passepartout. Meanwhile Mr. Fogg, after leaving the consulate, repaired to the quay,\ngave some orders to Passepartout, went off to the    Mongolia in a\nboat, and descended to his cabin. He took up his note-book, which\ncontained the following memoranda:\n\n\"Left London, Wednesday, October 2nd, at 8.45 p.m.  \"Reached Paris,\nThursday, October 3rd, at 7.20 a.m.  \"Left Paris, Thursday, at 8.40\na.m.  \"Reached Turin by Mont Cenis, Friday, October 4th, at 6.35 a.m.\n\"Left Turin, Friday, at 7.20 a.m.  \"Arrived at Brindisi, Saturday,\nOctober 5th, at 4 p.m.  \"Sailed on the Mongolia, Saturday, at 5 p.m.\n\"Reached Suez, Wednesday, October 9th, at 11 a.m.  \"Total of hours\nspent, 158+; or, in days, six days and a half.\" These dates were inscribed in an itinerary divided into columns,\nindicating the month, the day of the month, and the day for the\nstipulated and actual arrivals at each principal point Paris, Brindisi,\nSuez, Bombay, Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama, San Francisco,\nNew York, and London--from the 2nd of October to the 21st of December;\nand giving a space for setting down the gain made or the loss suffered\non arrival at each locality. This methodical record thus contained an\naccount of everything needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was\nbehind-hand or in advance of his time. On this Friday, October 9th, he\nnoted his arrival at Suez, and observed that he had as yet neither\ngained nor lost. He sat down quietly to breakfast in his cabin, never\nonce thinking of inspecting the town, being one of those Englishmen who\nare wont to see foreign countries through the eyes of their domestics. Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and looking about on\nthe quay, as if he did not feel that he, at least, was obliged not to\nsee anything. \"Well, my friend,\" said the detective, coming up with him, \"is your\npassport visaed?\" \"Ah, it's you, is it, monsieur?\" responded Passepartout. \"Thanks, yes,\nthe passport is all right.\" \"And you are looking about you?\" \"Yes; but we travel so fast that I seem to be journeying in a dream. So this is Suez?\" \"Yes.\" \"In Egypt?\" \"Certainly, in Egypt.\" \"And in Africa?\" \"In Africa.\" \"In Africa!\" repeated Passepartout. \"Just think, monsieur, I had no\nidea that we should go farther than Paris; and all that I saw of Paris\nwas between twenty minutes past seven and twenty minutes before nine in\nthe morning, between the Northern and the Lyons stations, through the\nwindows of a car, and in a driving rain! How I regret not having seen\nonce more Pere la Chaise and the circus in the Champs Elysees!\" \"You are in a great hurry, then?\" \"I am not, but my master is. By the way, I must buy some shoes and\nshirts. We came away without trunks, only with a carpet-bag.\" \"I will show you an excellent shop for getting what you want.\" \"Really, monsieur, you are very kind.\" And they walked off together, Passepartout chatting volubly as they\nwent along. \"Above all,\" said he; \"don't let me lose the steamer.\" \"You have plenty of time; it's only twelve o'clock.\" Passepartout pulled out his big watch. \"Twelve!\" he exclaimed; \"why,\nit's only eight minutes before ten.\" \"Your watch is slow.\" \"My watch? A family watch, monsieur, which has come down from my\ngreat-grandfather! It doesn't vary five minutes in the year. It's a\nperfect chronometer, look you.\" \"I see how it is,\" said Fix. \"You have kept London time, which is two\nhours behind that of Suez. You ought to regulate your watch at noon in\neach country.\" \"I regulate my watch? Never!\" \"Well, then, it will not agree with the sun.\" \"So much the worse for the sun, monsieur. The sun will be wrong, then!\" And the worthy fellow returned the watch to its fob with a defiant\ngesture. After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed: \"You left London\nhastily, then?\" \"I rather think so! Last Friday at eight o'clock in the evening,\nMonsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour\nafterwards we were off.\" \"But where is your master going?\" \"Always straight ahead. He is going round the world.\" \"Round the world?\" cried Fix. \"Yes, and in eighty days! He says it is on a wager; but, between us, I\ndon't believe a word of it. That wouldn't be common sense. There's\nsomething else in the wind.\" \"Ah! Mr. Fogg is a character, is he?\" \"I should say he was.\" \"Is he rich?\" \"No doubt, for he is carrying an enormous sum in brand new banknotes\nwith him. And he doesn't spare the money on the way, either: he has\noffered a large reward to the engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to\nBombay well in advance of time.\" \"And you have known your master a long time?\" \"Why, no; I entered his service the very day we left London.\" The effect of these replies upon the already suspicious and excited\ndetective may be imagined. The hasty departure from London soon after\nthe robbery; the large sum carried by Mr. Fogg; his eagerness to reach\ndistant countries; the pretext of an eccentric and foolhardy bet--all\nconfirmed Fix in his theory. He continued to pump poor Passepartout,\nand learned that he really knew little or nothing of his master, who\nlived a solitary existence in London, was said to be rich, though no\none knew whence came his riches, and was mysterious and impenetrable in\nhis affairs and habits. Fix felt sure that Phileas Fogg would not land\nat Suez, but was really going on to Bombay. \"Is Bombay far from here?\" asked Passepartout. \"Pretty far. It is a ten days' voyage by sea.\" \"And in what country is Bombay?\" \"India.\" \"In Asia?\" \"Certainly.\" \"The deuce! I was going to tell you there's one thing that worries\nme--my burner!\" \"What burner?\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-02, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-03 The user is reading a book]\n<User> \"My gas-burner, which I forgot to turn off, and which is at this moment\nburning at my expense. I have calculated, monsieur, that I lose two\nshillings every four and twenty hours, exactly sixpence more than I\nearn; and you will understand that the longer our journey--\"\n\nDid Fix pay any attention to Passepartout's trouble about the gas? It\nis not probable. He was not listening, but was cogitating a project. Passepartout and he had now reached the shop, where Fix left his\ncompanion to make his purchases, after recommending him not to miss the\nsteamer, and hurried back to the consulate. Now that he was fully\nconvinced, Fix had quite recovered his equanimity. \"Consul,\" said he, \"I have no longer any doubt. I have spotted my man. He passes himself off as an odd stick who is going round the world in\neighty days.\" \"Then he's a sharp fellow,\" returned the consul, \"and counts on\nreturning to London after putting the police of the two countries off\nhis track.\" \"We'll see about that,\" replied Fix. \"But are you not mistaken?\" \"I am not mistaken.\" \"Why was this robber so anxious to prove, by the visa, that he had\npassed through Suez?\" \"Why? I have no idea; but listen to me.\" He reported in a few words the most important parts of his conversation\nwith Passepartout. \"In short,\" said the consul, \"appearances are wholly against this man. And what are you going to do?\" \"Send a dispatch to London for a warrant of arrest to be dispatched\ninstantly to Bombay, take passage on board the Mongolia, follow my\nrogue to India, and there, on English ground, arrest him politely, with\nmy warrant in my hand, and my hand on his shoulder.\" Having uttered these words with a cool, careless air, the detective\ntook leave of the consul, and repaired to the telegraph office, whence\nhe sent the dispatch which we have seen to the London police office. A\nquarter of an hour later found Fix, with a small bag in his hand,\nproceeding on board the Mongolia; and, ere many moments longer, the\nnoble steamer rode out at full steam upon the waters of the Red Sea. The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and\nten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one\nhundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia,\nthanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so\nrapid was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that\ntime. The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for\nIndia some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the\nnearest route thither, now that a railway crosses the Indian peninsula. Among the passengers was a number of officials and military officers of\nvarious grades, the latter being either attached to the regular British\nforces or commanding the Sepoy troops, and receiving high salaries ever\nsince the central government has assumed the powers of the East India\nCompany: for the sub-lieutenants get 280 pounds, brigadiers, 2,400\npounds, and generals of divisions, 4,000 pounds. What with the\nmilitary men, a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels, and\nthe hospitable efforts of the purser, the time passed quickly on the\nMongolia. The best of fare was spread upon the cabin tables at\nbreakfast, lunch, dinner, and the eight o'clock supper, and the ladies\nscrupulously changed their toilets twice a day; and the hours were\nwhirled away, when the sea was tranquil, with music, dancing, and games. But the Red Sea is full of caprice, and often boisterous, like most\nlong and narrow gulfs. When the wind came from the African or Asian\ncoast the Mongolia, with her long hull, rolled fearfully. Then the\nladies speedily disappeared below; the pianos were silent; singing and\ndancing suddenly ceased. Yet the good ship ploughed straight on,\nunretarded by wind or wave, towards the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. What\nwas Phileas Fogg doing all this time? It might be thought that, in his\nanxiety, he would be constantly watching the changes of the wind, the\ndisorderly raging of the billows--every chance, in short, which might\nforce the Mongolia to slacken her speed, and thus interrupt his\njourney. But, if he thought of these possibilities, he did not betray\nthe fact by any outward sign. Always the same impassible member of the Reform Club, whom no incident\ncould surprise, as unvarying as the ship's chronometers, and seldom\nhaving the curiosity even to go upon the deck, he passed through the\nmemorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference; did not care to\nrecognise the historic towns and villages which, along its borders,\nraised their picturesque outlines against the sky; and betrayed no fear\nof the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the old historians always\nspoke of with horror, and upon which the ancient navigators never\nventured without propitiating the gods by ample sacrifices. How did\nthis eccentric personage pass his time on the Mongolia? He made his\nfour hearty meals every day, regardless of the most persistent rolling\nand pitching on the part of the steamer; and he played whist\nindefatigably, for he had found partners as enthusiastic in the game as\nhimself. A tax-collector, on the way to his post at Goa; the Rev. Decimus Smith, returning to his parish at Bombay; and a\nbrigadier-general of the English army, who was about to rejoin his\nbrigade at Benares, made up the party, and, with Mr. Fogg, played whist\nby the hour together in absorbing silence. As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, and took his\nmeals conscientiously in the forward cabin. He rather enjoyed the\nvoyage, for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in\nthe scenes through which they were passing, and consoled himself with\nthe delusion that his master's whim would end at Bombay. He was\npleased, on the day after leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging\nperson with whom he had walked and chatted on the quays. \"If I am not mistaken,\" said he, approaching this person, with his most\namiable smile, \"you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered to\nguide me at Suez?\" \"Ah! I quite recognise you. You are the servant of the strange\nEnglishman--\"\n\n\"Just so, monsieur--\"\n\n\"Fix.\" \"Monsieur Fix,\" resumed Passepartout, \"I'm charmed to find you on\nboard. Where are you bound?\" \"Like you, to Bombay.\" \"That's capital! Have you made this trip before?\" \"Several times. I am one of the agents of the Peninsular Company.\" \"Then you know India?\" \"Why yes,\" replied Fix, who spoke cautiously. \"A curious place, this India?\" \"Oh, very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas,\ntigers, snakes, elephants! I hope you will have ample time to see the\nsights.\" \"I hope so, Monsieur Fix. You see, a man of sound sense ought not to\nspend his life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train, and from a\nrailway train upon a steamer again, pretending to make the tour of the\nworld in eighty days! No; all these gymnastics, you may be sure, will\ncease at Bombay.\" \"And Mr. Fogg is getting on well?\" asked Fix, in the most natural tone\nin the world. \"Quite well, and I too. I eat like a famished ogre; it's the sea air.\" \"But I never see your master on deck.\" \"Never; he hasn't the least curiosity.\" \"Do you know, Mr. Passepartout, that this pretended tour in eighty days\nmay conceal some secret errand--perhaps a diplomatic mission?\" \"Faith, Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about it, nor would I\ngive half a crown to find out.\" After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of chatting\ntogether, the latter making it a point to gain the worthy man's\nconfidence. He frequently offered him a glass of whiskey or pale ale\nin the steamer bar-room, which Passepartout never failed to accept with\ngraceful alacrity, mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good fellows. Meanwhile the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly; on the 13th, Mocha,\nsurrounded by its ruined walls whereon date-trees were growing, was\nsighted, and on the mountains beyond were espied vast coffee-fields. Passepartout was ravished to behold this celebrated place, and thought\nthat, with its circular walls and dismantled fort, it looked like an\nimmense coffee-cup and saucer.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-03, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-04 The user is reading a book]\n<User> The following night they passed through\nthe Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which means in Arabic The Bridge of Tears,\nand the next day they put in at Steamer Point, north-west of Aden\nharbour, to take in coal. This matter of fuelling steamers is a\nserious one at such distances from the coal-mines; it costs the\nPeninsular Company some eight hundred thousand pounds a year. In these\ndistant seas, coal is worth three or four pounds sterling a ton. The Mongolia had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to traverse\nbefore reaching Bombay, and was obliged to remain four hours at Steamer\nPoint to coal up. But this delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect\nPhileas Fogg's programme; besides, the Mongolia, instead of reaching\nAden on the morning of the 15th, when she was due, arrived there on the\nevening of the 14th, a gain of fifteen hours. Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have the passport again\nvisaed; Fix, unobserved, followed them. The visa procured, Mr. Fogg\nreturned on board to resume his former habits; while Passepartout,\naccording to custom, sauntered about among the mixed population of\nSomalis, Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who comprise the\ntwenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden. He gazed with wonder upon\nthe fortifications which make this place the Gibraltar of the Indian\nOcean, and the vast cisterns where the English engineers were still at\nwork, two thousand years after the engineers of Solomon. \"Very curious, very curious,\" said Passepartout to himself, on\nreturning to the steamer. \"I see that it is by no means useless to\ntravel, if a man wants to see something new.\" At six p.m.  the\nMongolia slowly moved out of the roadstead, and was soon once more on\nthe Indian Ocean. She had a hundred and sixty-eight hours in which to\nreach Bombay, and the sea was favourable, the wind being in the\nnorth-west, and all sails aiding the engine. The steamer rolled but\nlittle, the ladies, in fresh toilets, reappeared on deck, and the\nsinging and dancing were resumed. The trip was being accomplished most\nsuccessfully, and Passepartout was enchanted with the congenial\ncompanion which chance had secured him in the person of the delightful\nFix. On Sunday, October 20th, towards noon, they came in sight of the\nIndian coast: two hours later the pilot came on board. A range of\nhills lay against the sky in the horizon, and soon the rows of palms\nwhich adorn Bombay came distinctly into view. The steamer entered the\nroad formed by the islands in the bay, and at half-past four she hauled\nup at the quays of Bombay. Phileas Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty-third rubber of the\nvoyage, and his partner and himself having, by a bold stroke, captured\nall thirteen of the tricks, concluded this fine campaign with a\nbrilliant victory. The Mongolia was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she arrived on the 20th. This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of two days since his departure from\nLondon, and he calmly entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column\nof gains. Everybody knows that the great reversed triangle of land, with its base\nin the north and its apex in the south, which is called India, embraces\nfourteen hundred thousand square miles, upon which is spread unequally\na population of one hundred and eighty millions of souls. The British\nCrown exercises a real and despotic dominion over the larger portion of\nthis vast country, and has a governor-general stationed at Calcutta,\ngovernors at Madras, Bombay, and in Bengal, and a lieutenant-governor\nat Agra. But British India, properly so called, only embraces seven hundred\nthousand square miles, and a population of from one hundred to one\nhundred and ten millions of inhabitants. A considerable portion of\nIndia is still free from British authority; and there are certain\nferocious rajahs in the interior who are absolutely independent. The\ncelebrated East India Company was all-powerful from 1756, when the\nEnglish first gained a foothold on the spot where now stands the city\nof Madras, down to the time of the great Sepoy insurrection. It\ngradually annexed province after province, purchasing them of the\nnative chiefs, whom it seldom paid, and appointed the governor-general\nand his subordinates, civil and military. But the East India Company\nhas now passed away, leaving the British possessions in India directly\nunder the control of the Crown. The aspect of the country, as well as\nthe manners and distinctions of race, is daily changing. Formerly one was obliged to travel in India by the old cumbrous methods\nof going on foot or on horseback, in palanquins or unwieldy coaches;\nnow fast steamboats ply on the Indus and the Ganges, and a great\nrailway, with branch lines joining the main line at many points on its\nroute, traverses the peninsula from Bombay to Calcutta in three days. This railway does not run in a direct line across India. The distance\nbetween Bombay and Calcutta, as the bird flies, is only from one\nthousand to eleven hundred miles; but the deflections of the road\nincrease this distance by more than a third. The general route of the Great Indian Peninsula Railway is as follows:\nLeaving Bombay, it passes through Salcette, crossing to the continent\nopposite Tannah, goes over the chain of the Western Ghauts, runs thence\nnorth-east as far as Burhampoor, skirts the nearly independent\nterritory of Bundelcund, ascends to Allahabad, turns thence eastwardly,\nmeeting the Ganges at Benares, then departs from the river a little,\nand, descending south-eastward by Burdivan and the French town of\nChandernagor, has its terminus at Calcutta. The passengers of the Mongolia went ashore at half-past four p.m.; at\nexactly eight the train would start for Calcutta. Mr. Fogg, after bidding good-bye to his whist partners, left the\nsteamer, gave his servant several errands to do, urged it upon him to\nbe at the station promptly at eight, and, with his regular step, which\nbeat to the second, like an astronomical clock, directed his steps to\nthe passport office. As for the wonders of Bombay--its famous city\nhall, its splendid library, its forts and docks, its bazaars, mosques,\nsynagogues, its Armenian churches, and the noble pagoda on Malabar\nHill, with its two polygonal towers--he cared not a straw to see them. He would not deign to examine even the masterpieces of Elephanta, or\nthe mysterious hypogea, concealed south-east from the docks, or those\nfine remains of Buddhist architecture, the Kanherian grottoes of the\nisland of Salcette. Having transacted his business at the passport office, Phileas Fogg\nrepaired quietly to the railway station, where he ordered dinner. Among the dishes served up to him, the landlord especially recommended\na certain giblet of \"native rabbit,\" on which he prided himself. Mr. Fogg accordingly tasted the dish, but, despite its spiced sauce,\nfound it far from palatable. He rang for the landlord, and, on his\nappearance, said, fixing his clear eyes upon him, \"Is this rabbit, sir?\" \"Yes, my lord,\" the rogue boldly replied, \"rabbit from the jungles.\" \"And this rabbit did not mew when he was killed?\" \"Mew, my lord! What, a rabbit mew! I swear to you--\"\n\n\"Be so good, landlord, as not to swear, but remember this: cats were\nformerly considered, in India, as sacred animals. That was a good\ntime.\" \"For the cats, my lord?\" \"Perhaps for the travellers as well!\" After which Mr. Fogg quietly continued his dinner. Fix had gone on\nshore shortly after Mr. Fogg, and his first destination was the\nheadquarters of the Bombay police. He made himself known as a London\ndetective, told his business at Bombay, and the position of affairs\nrelative to the supposed robber, and nervously asked if a warrant had\narrived from London. It had not reached the office; indeed, there had\nnot yet been time for it to arrive. Fix was sorely disappointed, and\ntried to obtain an order of arrest from the director of the Bombay\npolice. This the director refused, as the matter concerned the London\noffice, which alone could legally deliver the warrant. Fix did not\ninsist, and was fain to resign himself to await the arrival of the\nimportant document; but he was determined not to lose sight of the\nmysterious rogue as long as he stayed in Bombay. He did not doubt for\na moment, any more than Passepartout, that Phileas Fogg would remain\nthere, at least until it was time for the warrant to arrive.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-04, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-06 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Passepartout, however, had no sooner heard his master's orders on\nleaving the Mongolia than he saw at once that they were to leave Bombay\nas they had done Suez and Paris, and that the journey would be extended\nat least as far as Calcutta, and perhaps beyond that place. He began\nto ask himself if this bet that Mr. Fogg talked about was not really in\ngood earnest, and whether his fate was not in truth forcing him,\ndespite his love of repose, around the world in eighty days! Having purchased the usual quota of shirts and shoes, he took a\nleisurely promenade about the streets, where crowds of people of many\nnationalities--Europeans, Persians with pointed caps, Banyas with round\nturbans, Sindes with square bonnets, Parsees with black mitres, and\nlong-robed Armenians--were collected. It happened to be the day of a\nParsee festival. These descendants of the sect of Zoroaster--the most\nthrifty, civilised, intelligent, and austere of the East Indians, among\nwhom are counted the richest native merchants of Bombay--were\ncelebrating a sort of religious carnival, with processions and shows,\nin the midst of which Indian dancing-girls, clothed in rose-coloured\ngauze, looped up with gold and silver, danced airily, but with perfect\nmodesty, to the sound of viols and the clanging of tambourines. It is\nneedless to say that Passepartout watched these curious ceremonies with\nstaring eyes and gaping mouth, and that his countenance was that of the\ngreenest booby imaginable. Unhappily for his master, as well as himself, his curiosity drew him\nunconsciously farther off than he intended to go. At last, having seen\nthe Parsee carnival wind away in the distance, he was turning his steps\ntowards the station, when he happened to espy the splendid pagoda on\nMalabar Hill, and was seized with an irresistible desire to see its\ninterior. He was quite ignorant that it is forbidden to Christians to\nenter certain Indian temples, and that even the faithful must not go in\nwithout first leaving their shoes outside the door. It may be said\nhere that the wise policy of the British Government severely punishes a\ndisregard of the practices of the native religions. Passepartout, however, thinking no harm, went in like a simple tourist,\nand was soon lost in admiration of the splendid Brahmin ornamentation\nwhich everywhere met his eyes, when of a sudden he found himself\nsprawling on the sacred flagging. He looked up to behold three enraged\npriests, who forthwith fell upon him; tore off his shoes, and began to\nbeat him with loud, savage exclamations. The agile Frenchman was soon\nupon his feet again, and lost no time in knocking down two of his\nlong-gowned adversaries with his fists and a vigorous application of\nhis toes; then, rushing out of the pagoda as fast as his legs could\ncarry him, he soon escaped the third priest by mingling with the crowd\nin the streets. At five minutes before eight, Passepartout, hatless, shoeless, and\nhaving in the squabble lost his package of shirts and shoes, rushed\nbreathlessly into the station. Fix, who had followed Mr. Fogg to the station, and saw that he was\nreally going to leave Bombay, was there, upon the platform. He had\nresolved to follow the supposed robber to Calcutta, and farther, if\nnecessary. Passepartout did not observe the detective, who stood in an\nobscure corner; but Fix heard him relate his adventures in a few words\nto Mr. Fogg. \"I hope that this will not happen again,\" said Phileas Fogg coldly, as\nhe got into the train. Poor Passepartout, quite crestfallen, followed\nhis master without a word. Fix was on the point of entering another\ncarriage, when an idea struck him which induced him to alter his plan. \"No, I'll stay,\" muttered he. \"An offence has been committed on Indian\nsoil. I've got my man.\" Just then the locomotive gave a sharp screech, and the train passed out\ninto the darkness of the night.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-06, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far."]
[{"question": "Summarize the content of the book I read from 2024-01-01 to 2024-01-06", "answer": "Mr. Fix, Phileas Fogg, Passepartout, bank robber, Suez Canal, Egypt, Mongolia steamer, Mediterranean, India, America, British territory, warrant for arrest, consul's office, passport, visa, bet, notebook, London time, large sum of money, engineer, Bombay, rough seas, whist, card game, Hong Kong, train across India, Calcutta, dispatch to London, pagoda, temple, priests, shoes, crime, antagonist, man vs. man, British occupation, railroads, time record, schedule, secret motivations, confidence, escape, sightseeing, plan to catch, supporting character, primary antagonist"}]