1872年，白林敦花園坊賽微樂街七號（西銳登在1816年就死在這聽住宅裏），住着一位斐利亞·福剋先生，這位福剋先生似乎從來不做什麽顯以引人註目的事，可是他仍然是倫敦改良俱樂部裏最特別、最引人註意的一個會員。
西銳登是一位為英國增光的偉大的演說傢，繼承他這聽房子的福剋先生卻是一位令人捉摸不透的人物。關於福剋先生的底細，人們衹知道他是一位豪爽君子，一位英國上流社會裏的紳士，其他就一點也不清楚了。
有人說他象拜倫——就是頭象，至於腳可不象：他的腳並沒有毛病，不過他的兩頰和嘴上比拜倫多一點鬍子，性情也比拜倫溫和，就是活一千歲他大概也不會變樣。
福剋確實是個道地的英國人，但也許不是倫敦人。你在交易所裏從來看不到他，銀行裏也見不着他，找遍倫敦商業區的任何一傢商行也碰不上他。不論在倫敦的哪個港口，或是在倫敦的什麽碼頭，從未停泊過船主名叫福剋的船衹。這位紳士也沒有出席過任何一個行政管理委員會。不論在律師公會中，不論在倫敦四法學會的中院、內院、林肯院、或是格雷院,都從未聽到過他的名字。此外,他從來也沒有在官法庭、女皇御前審判廳、財政審計法院、教會法院這些地方打過官司。他既不開辦工廠，也不經營、農業；他既不是搞說合的掮客，又不是做買賣的商人。他既未加入英國皇傢學會，也未參加倫敦學會；既不是手工業者協會的成員，也不是羅素氏學會的會員；西方文學會裏沒有他的位置，法律學會裏也沒有他的名字；至於那仁慈的女皇陛下直接垂顧的科學藝術聯合會眼他也毫無瓜葛。在英國的首都，自亞摩尼卡學會一直到以消滅害蟲為宗旨的昆蟲學會，有着許許多多這樣大大小小的社會團體，而福剋先生卻不是其中任何一個團日體的成員。
福剋先生就衹是改良俱樂部的會員，瞧，和盤托出，僅此而已。如果有人以為象福剋這樣古怪的人，居然也能參加象改良俱樂部這樣光榮的團體，因而感到驚訝的話，人們就會告訴他：福剋是經巴林氏兄弟的介紹纔被接納入會的。他在巴林兄弟銀行存了一筆款子，因而獲得了信譽，因為他的賬面上永遠有存款，他開的支票照例總是“憑票即付”。
這位福剋先生是個財主嗎？毫無疑問，當然是的。可是他的財産是怎樣來的呢？這件事就連消息最靈通的人也說不出個究竟，衹有福剋先生自己最清楚，要打聽這件事，最好是問他本人。福剋先生從來不揮霍浪費，但也不小氣吝嗇。無論什麽地方，有什麽公益或慈善事業缺少經費，他總是不聲不響地拿出錢來，甚至捐了錢，還不讓人知道自己的姓名。
總而言之，再也沒有比這位紳士更不愛與人交往的了。他盡可能少說話，似乎由於沉默寡言的緣故，他的性格越顯得稀奇古怪，然而他的生活是很有規律的，一舉一動總是那樣準確而有規律，老是一個樣子。這就更加引起人們對他産生了奇怪的猜測和想象。
他曾出門旅行過嗎？這也很可能。因為在世界地理方面，誰也沒有他的知識淵博，不管什麽偏僻地方，他似乎都非常熟悉，有時他用簡單明了的幾句話，就澄清了俱樂部中流傳的有關某某旅行傢失蹤或迷路的衆說紛壇的流言。他指出這些事件的真正可能性，他好象具有一種千裏透視的天資，事情的最後結果，一般總是證實了他的見解都是正確的。這個人理應是個到處都去過的人——至少在精神上他是到處都去過的。
不管怎樣，有一件事卻是十分肯定的：多年以來，福剋先生就沒有離開過倫敦。那些比別人對他瞭解得稍微多一些的人也可以證明：除了看見他每天經過那條筆直的馬路從傢裏到俱樂部去以外，沒有人能說在任何其他地方曾經看見過他。
他唯一的消遣就是看報和玩“惠司脫”，這種安靜的娛樂最合於他的天性。他常常贏錢，但贏來的錢决不塞入自己的腰包。這筆錢在他做慈善事業的支出預算中，占一個重要部分，此外還必須特別提出，這位紳士顯然是為娛樂而打牌，並不是為了贏錢。對他來說，打牌可以說是一場比武，是一場對睏難的角力：但這種角力用不着大活動，也用不着移動腳步，又不會引起疲勞。這完全適合於他的性格。
人們都知道福剋先生沒有妻子兒女（這種情況，對過分老實的人說來是可能的），也沒有親戚朋友（這種情況，事實上是極其少見的）。福剋先生就是獨自一個人生活在賽微樂街的寓所裏，從來也沒有看到有人來拜訪他。關於他在傢裏的私生活，從來也沒有人談起過。他傢裏衹用一個僕人。他午餐晚餐都在俱樂部裏吃，他按時吃飯，就象鐘錶一般精確。他用餐的地方，老是在一個固定的餐廳裏，甚至老是坐在一個固定的桌位上。他從沒請過會友，也沒招待過一個外客。晚上十二點正，他就回傢睡覺，從沒住過改良俱樂部為會員準備的舒適的臥室。一天二十四小時，他待在傢裏有十小時，要麽就是睡覺，要麽就是梳洗。他在俱樂部即便活動活動，也準是在那鋪着鑲花地板的過廳裏，或是回廊上踱踱方步。這走廊上部裝着藍花玻璃的拱頂，下面撐着二十根紅雲斑石的希臘愛奧尼式的圓柱子。不論是晚餐午餐，俱樂部的廚房、菜餚貯藏櫃、食品供應處、鮮魚供應處和牛奶房總要給他送來味道鮮美、營養豐富的食品；那些身穿黑禮服、腳登厚絨軟底鞋、態度莊重的侍者，總要給他端上一套別緻的器皿，放在薩剋斯出産的花紋漂亮的桌布上；俱樂部保存的那些式樣古樸的水晶杯，也總要為他裝滿西班牙白葡萄酒、葡萄牙紅葡萄酒或是摻着香桂皮、香蕨和肉桂的粉紅葡萄酒；為了保持飲料清涼可口，最後還給他送來俱樂部花了很大費用從美洲的湖泊裏運來的冰塊。
如果過這樣生活的人就算是古怪，那也應該承認：這種古怪卻也自有它的樂趣。
賽微樂街的住宅並不富麗堂皇，但卻十分舒適。因為主人的生活習慣永遠沒有變化，所以需要傭人做的事也就不多。但是福剋先生要求他僅有的一個僕人在日常工作中一定要按部就斑，準確而又有規律。就在10月2日那一天，福剋先生辭退了他的僕人詹姆斯·伏斯特，他被辭退的原因僅僅是：他本來應該替主人送來華氏八十六度剃鬍子用的熱水，但他送來的卻是華氏八十四度的熱水。現在伏斯特正在等候來接替他的新僕人。這人應該十一點到十一點半之間來。
福剋先生四平八穩地坐在安樂椅上，雙腳並攏得象受檢閱的士兵一樣，兩手按在膝蓋上，挺着身子，昂着腦袋，全神貫註地看着挂鐘指針在移動——這衹挂鐘是一種計時，計分，計秒，計日，計星期，計月，又計年的復雜機器。按照他每天的習慣，鐘一敲十一點半，他就離傢到改良俱樂部去。
就在這時候，福剋先生在小客廳裏聽到外面有人敲門。
被辭退的那個詹姆斯·伏斯特走了進來。
“新傭人來了。”他說。
一個三十來歲的小夥子走了進來，嚮福剋先生行了個禮。
“你是法國人嗎？你叫約翰嗎？”福剋先生問。
“我叫若望，假使老爺不反對的話，”新來的僕人回答說，“路路通是我的外號。憑這個名字，可以說明我天生就有精於辦事的能耐。先生，我自信還是個誠實人，但是說實在話我幹過很多種行業了。我作過闖江湖的歌手，當過馬戲班的演員，我能象雷奧達一樣在懸空的鞦韆架上飛騰，我能象布竜丹一樣在繩索上跳舞；後來，為了使我的才能更發揮作用，我又當過體育教練。最後，我在巴黎作班長，在這一段經歷中，我還救過幾場驚險的火災呢。可是，到現在我離開法國已經五年了。因為我想嘗嘗當管傢的生活滋味，所以纔在英國當親隨傭人。如今我沒有工作，知道您福剋先生是聯合王國裏最講究準確、最愛安靜的人，所以就上您這兒來了，希望能在您府上安安靜靜地吃碗安穩飯，希望能忘記以往的一切，連我這個名字路路通也忘……”
“路路通這個名字倒滿合我的口味，”主人回答說，“別人已經嚮我介紹過你的情況。我知道你有很多優點。你可知道在我這裏工作的條件嗎？”
“知道，先生。”
“那就好，現在你的表幾點？”
路路通伸手從褲腰上的表口袋裏掏出一隻大銀表，回答說：
“十一點二十二分。”
“你的表慢了，”福剋先生說。
“請您別見怪，先生，我的表是不會慢的。”
“你的表慢了四分鐘。不過不要緊，你衹要記住所差的時間就行了。好吧，從現在算起，1872年10月2號星期三上午十一時二十九分開始，你就是我的傭人了。”
說罷，福剋先生站起身來，左手拿起帽子，用一種機械的動作把帽子往頭上一戴，一聲不響地就走了。
路路通聽到大門頭一回關起來的聲音：這是他的新主人出去了。不一會兒，又聽見大門第二回關起來的聲音：這是原先的僕人詹姆斯·伏斯特出去了。
現在賽微樂街的寓所裏衹剩下路路通一個人了。
Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was known, except that he was a polished man of the world. People said that he resembled Byron--at least that his head was Byronic; but he was a bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without growing old.
Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was a Londoner. He was never seen on 'Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the counting-rooms of the "City"; no ships ever came into London docks of which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never been entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or Lincoln's Inn, or Gray's Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court of Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen's Bench, or the Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he a merchant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to take part in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London Institution, the Artisan's Association, or the Institution of Arts and Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies which swarm in the English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the Entomologists, founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious insects.
Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.
The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club was simple enough.
He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an open credit. His cheques were regularly paid at sight from his account current, which was always flush.
Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who knew him best could not imagine how he had made his fortune, and Mr. Fogg was the last person to whom to apply for the information. He was not lavish, nor, on the contrary, avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money was needed for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it quietly and sometimes anonymously. He was, in short, the least communicative of men. He talked very little, and seemed all the more mysterious for his taciturn manner. His daily habits were quite open to observation; but whatever he did was so exactly the same thing that he had always done before, that the wits of the curious were fairly puzzled.
Had he travelled? It was likely, for no one seemed to know the world more familiarly; there was no spot so secluded that he did not appear to have an intimate acquaintance with it. He often corrected, with a few clear words, the thousand conjectures advanced by members of the club as to lost and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true probabilities, and seeming as if gifted with a sort of second sight, so often did events justify his predictions. He must have travelled everywhere, at least in the spirit.
It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg had not absented himself from London for many years. Those who were honoured by a better acquaintance with him than the rest, declared that nobody could pretend to have ever seen him anywhere else. His sole pastimes were reading the papers and playing whist. He often won at this game, which, as a silent one, harmonised with his nature; but his winnings never went into his purse, being reserved as a fund for his charities. Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but for the sake of playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle, congenial to his tastes.
Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may happen to the most honest people; either relatives or near friends, which is certainly more unusual. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row, whither none penetrated. A single domestic sufficed to serve him. He breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours mathematically fixed, in the same room, at the same table, never taking his meals with other members, much less bringing a guest with him; and went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at once to bed. He never used the cosy chambers which the Reform provides for its favoured members. He passed ten hours out of the twenty-four in Saville Row, either in sleeping or making his toilet. When he chose to take a walk it was with a regular step in the entrance hall with its mosaic flooring, or in the circular gallery with its dome supported by twenty red porphyry Ionic columns, and illumined by blue painted windows. When he breakfasted or dined all the resources of the club--its kitchens and pantries, its buttery and dairy--aided to crowd his table with their most succulent stores; he was served by the gravest waiters, in dress coats, and shoes with swan-skin soles, who proffered the viands in special porcelain, and on the finest linen; club decanters, of a lost mould, contained his sherry, his port, and his cinnamon-spiced claret; while his beverages were refreshingly cooled with ice, brought at great cost from the American lakes.
If to live in this style is to be eccentric, it must be confessed that there is something good in eccentricity.
The mansion in Saville Row, though not sumptuous, was exceedingly comfortable. The habits of its occupant were such as to demand but little from the sole domestic, but Phileas Fogg required him to be almost superhumanly prompt and regular. On this very 2nd of October he had dismissed James Forster, because that luckless youth had brought him shaving-water at eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit instead of eighty-six; and he was awaiting his successor, who was due at the house between eleven and half-past.
Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his armchair, his feet close together like those of a grenadier on parade, his hands resting on his knees, his body straight, his head erect; he was steadily watching a complicated clock which indicated the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the days, the months, and the years. At exactly half-past eleven Mr. Fogg would, according to his daily habit, quit Saville Row, and repair to the Reform.
A rap at this moment sounded on the door of the cosy apartment where Phileas Fogg was seated, and James Forster, the dismissed servant, appeared.
"The new servant," said he.
A young man of thirty advanced and bowed.
"You are a Frenchman, I believe," asked Phileas Fogg, "and your name is John?"
"Jean, if monsieur pleases," replied the newcomer, "Jean Passepartout, a surname which has clung to me because I have a natural aptness for going out of one business into another. I believe I'm honest, monsieur, but, to be outspoken, I've had several trades. I've been an itinerant singer, a circus-rider, when I used to vault like Leotard, and dance on a rope like Blondin. Then I got to be a professor of gymnastics, so as to make better use of my talents; and then I was a sergeant fireman at Paris, and assisted at many a big fire. But I quitted France five years ago, and, wishing to taste the sweets of domestic life, took service as a valet here in England. Finding myself out of place, and hearing that Monsieur Phileas Fogg was the most exact and settled gentleman in the United Kingdom, I have come to monsieur in the hope of living with him a tranquil life, and forgetting even the name of Passepartout."
"Passepartout suits me," responded Mr. Fogg. "You are well recommended to me; I hear a good report of you. You know my conditions?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Good! What time is it?"
"Twenty-two minutes after eleven," returned Passepartout, drawing an enormous silver watch from the depths of his pocket.
"You are too slow," said Mr. Fogg.
"Pardon me, monsieur, it is impossible--"
"You are four minutes too slow. No matter; it's enough to mention the error. Now from this moment, twenty-nine minutes after eleven, a.m., this Wednesday, 2nd October, you are in my service."
Phileas Fogg got up, took his hat in his left hand, put it on his head with an automatic motion, and went off without a word.
Passepartout heard the street door shut once; it was his new master going out. He heard it shut again; it was his predecessor, James Forster, departing in his turn. Passepartout remained alone in the house in Saville Row.
西銳登是一位為英國增光的偉大的演說傢，繼承他這聽房子的福剋先生卻是一位令人捉摸不透的人物。關於福剋先生的底細，人們衹知道他是一位豪爽君子，一位英國上流社會裏的紳士，其他就一點也不清楚了。
有人說他象拜倫——就是頭象，至於腳可不象：他的腳並沒有毛病，不過他的兩頰和嘴上比拜倫多一點鬍子，性情也比拜倫溫和，就是活一千歲他大概也不會變樣。
福剋確實是個道地的英國人，但也許不是倫敦人。你在交易所裏從來看不到他，銀行裏也見不着他，找遍倫敦商業區的任何一傢商行也碰不上他。不論在倫敦的哪個港口，或是在倫敦的什麽碼頭，從未停泊過船主名叫福剋的船衹。這位紳士也沒有出席過任何一個行政管理委員會。不論在律師公會中，不論在倫敦四法學會的中院、內院、林肯院、或是格雷院,都從未聽到過他的名字。此外,他從來也沒有在官法庭、女皇御前審判廳、財政審計法院、教會法院這些地方打過官司。他既不開辦工廠，也不經營、農業；他既不是搞說合的掮客，又不是做買賣的商人。他既未加入英國皇傢學會，也未參加倫敦學會；既不是手工業者協會的成員，也不是羅素氏學會的會員；西方文學會裏沒有他的位置，法律學會裏也沒有他的名字；至於那仁慈的女皇陛下直接垂顧的科學藝術聯合會眼他也毫無瓜葛。在英國的首都，自亞摩尼卡學會一直到以消滅害蟲為宗旨的昆蟲學會，有着許許多多這樣大大小小的社會團體，而福剋先生卻不是其中任何一個團日體的成員。
福剋先生就衹是改良俱樂部的會員，瞧，和盤托出，僅此而已。如果有人以為象福剋這樣古怪的人，居然也能參加象改良俱樂部這樣光榮的團體，因而感到驚訝的話，人們就會告訴他：福剋是經巴林氏兄弟的介紹纔被接納入會的。他在巴林兄弟銀行存了一筆款子，因而獲得了信譽，因為他的賬面上永遠有存款，他開的支票照例總是“憑票即付”。
這位福剋先生是個財主嗎？毫無疑問，當然是的。可是他的財産是怎樣來的呢？這件事就連消息最靈通的人也說不出個究竟，衹有福剋先生自己最清楚，要打聽這件事，最好是問他本人。福剋先生從來不揮霍浪費，但也不小氣吝嗇。無論什麽地方，有什麽公益或慈善事業缺少經費，他總是不聲不響地拿出錢來，甚至捐了錢，還不讓人知道自己的姓名。
總而言之，再也沒有比這位紳士更不愛與人交往的了。他盡可能少說話，似乎由於沉默寡言的緣故，他的性格越顯得稀奇古怪，然而他的生活是很有規律的，一舉一動總是那樣準確而有規律，老是一個樣子。這就更加引起人們對他産生了奇怪的猜測和想象。
他曾出門旅行過嗎？這也很可能。因為在世界地理方面，誰也沒有他的知識淵博，不管什麽偏僻地方，他似乎都非常熟悉，有時他用簡單明了的幾句話，就澄清了俱樂部中流傳的有關某某旅行傢失蹤或迷路的衆說紛壇的流言。他指出這些事件的真正可能性，他好象具有一種千裏透視的天資，事情的最後結果，一般總是證實了他的見解都是正確的。這個人理應是個到處都去過的人——至少在精神上他是到處都去過的。
不管怎樣，有一件事卻是十分肯定的：多年以來，福剋先生就沒有離開過倫敦。那些比別人對他瞭解得稍微多一些的人也可以證明：除了看見他每天經過那條筆直的馬路從傢裏到俱樂部去以外，沒有人能說在任何其他地方曾經看見過他。
他唯一的消遣就是看報和玩“惠司脫”，這種安靜的娛樂最合於他的天性。他常常贏錢，但贏來的錢决不塞入自己的腰包。這筆錢在他做慈善事業的支出預算中，占一個重要部分，此外還必須特別提出，這位紳士顯然是為娛樂而打牌，並不是為了贏錢。對他來說，打牌可以說是一場比武，是一場對睏難的角力：但這種角力用不着大活動，也用不着移動腳步，又不會引起疲勞。這完全適合於他的性格。
人們都知道福剋先生沒有妻子兒女（這種情況，對過分老實的人說來是可能的），也沒有親戚朋友（這種情況，事實上是極其少見的）。福剋先生就是獨自一個人生活在賽微樂街的寓所裏，從來也沒有看到有人來拜訪他。關於他在傢裏的私生活，從來也沒有人談起過。他傢裏衹用一個僕人。他午餐晚餐都在俱樂部裏吃，他按時吃飯，就象鐘錶一般精確。他用餐的地方，老是在一個固定的餐廳裏，甚至老是坐在一個固定的桌位上。他從沒請過會友，也沒招待過一個外客。晚上十二點正，他就回傢睡覺，從沒住過改良俱樂部為會員準備的舒適的臥室。一天二十四小時，他待在傢裏有十小時，要麽就是睡覺，要麽就是梳洗。他在俱樂部即便活動活動，也準是在那鋪着鑲花地板的過廳裏，或是回廊上踱踱方步。這走廊上部裝着藍花玻璃的拱頂，下面撐着二十根紅雲斑石的希臘愛奧尼式的圓柱子。不論是晚餐午餐，俱樂部的廚房、菜餚貯藏櫃、食品供應處、鮮魚供應處和牛奶房總要給他送來味道鮮美、營養豐富的食品；那些身穿黑禮服、腳登厚絨軟底鞋、態度莊重的侍者，總要給他端上一套別緻的器皿，放在薩剋斯出産的花紋漂亮的桌布上；俱樂部保存的那些式樣古樸的水晶杯，也總要為他裝滿西班牙白葡萄酒、葡萄牙紅葡萄酒或是摻着香桂皮、香蕨和肉桂的粉紅葡萄酒；為了保持飲料清涼可口，最後還給他送來俱樂部花了很大費用從美洲的湖泊裏運來的冰塊。
如果過這樣生活的人就算是古怪，那也應該承認：這種古怪卻也自有它的樂趣。
賽微樂街的住宅並不富麗堂皇，但卻十分舒適。因為主人的生活習慣永遠沒有變化，所以需要傭人做的事也就不多。但是福剋先生要求他僅有的一個僕人在日常工作中一定要按部就斑，準確而又有規律。就在10月2日那一天，福剋先生辭退了他的僕人詹姆斯·伏斯特，他被辭退的原因僅僅是：他本來應該替主人送來華氏八十六度剃鬍子用的熱水，但他送來的卻是華氏八十四度的熱水。現在伏斯特正在等候來接替他的新僕人。這人應該十一點到十一點半之間來。
福剋先生四平八穩地坐在安樂椅上，雙腳並攏得象受檢閱的士兵一樣，兩手按在膝蓋上，挺着身子，昂着腦袋，全神貫註地看着挂鐘指針在移動——這衹挂鐘是一種計時，計分，計秒，計日，計星期，計月，又計年的復雜機器。按照他每天的習慣，鐘一敲十一點半，他就離傢到改良俱樂部去。
就在這時候，福剋先生在小客廳裏聽到外面有人敲門。
被辭退的那個詹姆斯·伏斯特走了進來。
“新傭人來了。”他說。
一個三十來歲的小夥子走了進來，嚮福剋先生行了個禮。
“你是法國人嗎？你叫約翰嗎？”福剋先生問。
“我叫若望，假使老爺不反對的話，”新來的僕人回答說，“路路通是我的外號。憑這個名字，可以說明我天生就有精於辦事的能耐。先生，我自信還是個誠實人，但是說實在話我幹過很多種行業了。我作過闖江湖的歌手，當過馬戲班的演員，我能象雷奧達一樣在懸空的鞦韆架上飛騰，我能象布竜丹一樣在繩索上跳舞；後來，為了使我的才能更發揮作用，我又當過體育教練。最後，我在巴黎作班長，在這一段經歷中，我還救過幾場驚險的火災呢。可是，到現在我離開法國已經五年了。因為我想嘗嘗當管傢的生活滋味，所以纔在英國當親隨傭人。如今我沒有工作，知道您福剋先生是聯合王國裏最講究準確、最愛安靜的人，所以就上您這兒來了，希望能在您府上安安靜靜地吃碗安穩飯，希望能忘記以往的一切，連我這個名字路路通也忘……”
“路路通這個名字倒滿合我的口味，”主人回答說，“別人已經嚮我介紹過你的情況。我知道你有很多優點。你可知道在我這裏工作的條件嗎？”
“知道，先生。”
“那就好，現在你的表幾點？”
路路通伸手從褲腰上的表口袋裏掏出一隻大銀表，回答說：
“十一點二十二分。”
“你的表慢了，”福剋先生說。
“請您別見怪，先生，我的表是不會慢的。”
“你的表慢了四分鐘。不過不要緊，你衹要記住所差的時間就行了。好吧，從現在算起，1872年10月2號星期三上午十一時二十九分開始，你就是我的傭人了。”
說罷，福剋先生站起身來，左手拿起帽子，用一種機械的動作把帽子往頭上一戴，一聲不響地就走了。
路路通聽到大門頭一回關起來的聲音：這是他的新主人出去了。不一會兒，又聽見大門第二回關起來的聲音：這是原先的僕人詹姆斯·伏斯特出去了。
現在賽微樂街的寓所裏衹剩下路路通一個人了。
Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was known, except that he was a polished man of the world. People said that he resembled Byron--at least that his head was Byronic; but he was a bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without growing old.
Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was a Londoner. He was never seen on 'Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the counting-rooms of the "City"; no ships ever came into London docks of which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never been entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or Lincoln's Inn, or Gray's Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court of Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen's Bench, or the Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he a merchant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to take part in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London Institution, the Artisan's Association, or the Institution of Arts and Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies which swarm in the English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the Entomologists, founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious insects.
Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.
The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club was simple enough.
He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an open credit. His cheques were regularly paid at sight from his account current, which was always flush.
Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who knew him best could not imagine how he had made his fortune, and Mr. Fogg was the last person to whom to apply for the information. He was not lavish, nor, on the contrary, avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money was needed for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it quietly and sometimes anonymously. He was, in short, the least communicative of men. He talked very little, and seemed all the more mysterious for his taciturn manner. His daily habits were quite open to observation; but whatever he did was so exactly the same thing that he had always done before, that the wits of the curious were fairly puzzled.
Had he travelled? It was likely, for no one seemed to know the world more familiarly; there was no spot so secluded that he did not appear to have an intimate acquaintance with it. He often corrected, with a few clear words, the thousand conjectures advanced by members of the club as to lost and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true probabilities, and seeming as if gifted with a sort of second sight, so often did events justify his predictions. He must have travelled everywhere, at least in the spirit.
It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg had not absented himself from London for many years. Those who were honoured by a better acquaintance with him than the rest, declared that nobody could pretend to have ever seen him anywhere else. His sole pastimes were reading the papers and playing whist. He often won at this game, which, as a silent one, harmonised with his nature; but his winnings never went into his purse, being reserved as a fund for his charities. Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but for the sake of playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle, congenial to his tastes.
Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may happen to the most honest people; either relatives or near friends, which is certainly more unusual. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row, whither none penetrated. A single domestic sufficed to serve him. He breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours mathematically fixed, in the same room, at the same table, never taking his meals with other members, much less bringing a guest with him; and went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at once to bed. He never used the cosy chambers which the Reform provides for its favoured members. He passed ten hours out of the twenty-four in Saville Row, either in sleeping or making his toilet. When he chose to take a walk it was with a regular step in the entrance hall with its mosaic flooring, or in the circular gallery with its dome supported by twenty red porphyry Ionic columns, and illumined by blue painted windows. When he breakfasted or dined all the resources of the club--its kitchens and pantries, its buttery and dairy--aided to crowd his table with their most succulent stores; he was served by the gravest waiters, in dress coats, and shoes with swan-skin soles, who proffered the viands in special porcelain, and on the finest linen; club decanters, of a lost mould, contained his sherry, his port, and his cinnamon-spiced claret; while his beverages were refreshingly cooled with ice, brought at great cost from the American lakes.
If to live in this style is to be eccentric, it must be confessed that there is something good in eccentricity.
The mansion in Saville Row, though not sumptuous, was exceedingly comfortable. The habits of its occupant were such as to demand but little from the sole domestic, but Phileas Fogg required him to be almost superhumanly prompt and regular. On this very 2nd of October he had dismissed James Forster, because that luckless youth had brought him shaving-water at eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit instead of eighty-six; and he was awaiting his successor, who was due at the house between eleven and half-past.
Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his armchair, his feet close together like those of a grenadier on parade, his hands resting on his knees, his body straight, his head erect; he was steadily watching a complicated clock which indicated the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the days, the months, and the years. At exactly half-past eleven Mr. Fogg would, according to his daily habit, quit Saville Row, and repair to the Reform.
A rap at this moment sounded on the door of the cosy apartment where Phileas Fogg was seated, and James Forster, the dismissed servant, appeared.
"The new servant," said he.
A young man of thirty advanced and bowed.
"You are a Frenchman, I believe," asked Phileas Fogg, "and your name is John?"
"Jean, if monsieur pleases," replied the newcomer, "Jean Passepartout, a surname which has clung to me because I have a natural aptness for going out of one business into another. I believe I'm honest, monsieur, but, to be outspoken, I've had several trades. I've been an itinerant singer, a circus-rider, when I used to vault like Leotard, and dance on a rope like Blondin. Then I got to be a professor of gymnastics, so as to make better use of my talents; and then I was a sergeant fireman at Paris, and assisted at many a big fire. But I quitted France five years ago, and, wishing to taste the sweets of domestic life, took service as a valet here in England. Finding myself out of place, and hearing that Monsieur Phileas Fogg was the most exact and settled gentleman in the United Kingdom, I have come to monsieur in the hope of living with him a tranquil life, and forgetting even the name of Passepartout."
"Passepartout suits me," responded Mr. Fogg. "You are well recommended to me; I hear a good report of you. You know my conditions?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Good! What time is it?"
"Twenty-two minutes after eleven," returned Passepartout, drawing an enormous silver watch from the depths of his pocket.
"You are too slow," said Mr. Fogg.
"Pardon me, monsieur, it is impossible--"
"You are four minutes too slow. No matter; it's enough to mention the error. Now from this moment, twenty-nine minutes after eleven, a.m., this Wednesday, 2nd October, you are in my service."
Phileas Fogg got up, took his hat in his left hand, put it on his head with an automatic motion, and went off without a word.
Passepartout heard the street door shut once; it was his new master going out. He heard it shut again; it was his predecessor, James Forster, departing in his turn. Passepartout remained alone in the house in Saville Row.
路路通開始覺得有點兒奇怪，自言自語地說：“說真的，我在杜叟太太傢裏看見的那些‘好好先生’跟我現在的這位主人簡直沒有一點差別！”
這兒應該交代一下：杜叟太太傢裏的那些“好好先生”是用蠟做的，在倫敦經常有很多人去欣賞。這種蠟人做得活象真的，就衹差會說話罷了。
路路通在剛纔和福剋先生見面的短短幾分鐘裏，就已經把他這位未來的主人又快又仔細地觀察了一番。看來這人該有四十上下，面容清秀而端莊，高高的個兒雖然略微有點胖，但是並不因此損及他翩翩的風采。金褐色的頭髮和鬍須，光溜平滑的前額，連太陽穴上也看不到一條皺紋。面色淨白，並不紅潤，一口牙齒，整齊美觀。他的個人修養顯然很高，已經達到了如相士們所說的“雖動猶靜”的地步。凡是“多做事，少扯淡”的人所具有的特點他都有。安詳，冷靜，眼皮一眨不眨，眼珠明亮有神，簡直是那種冷靜的英國人最標準的典型。這種人在聯合王國裏是司空見慣的。昂·高夫曼的妙筆，常把他們畫成多少帶點學究氣的人物。從福剋先生日常生活看來，人們有一種印象，覺得這位紳士的一舉一動都是不輕不重，不偏不倚，恰如其分，簡直象李羅阿或是伊恩蕭的精密測時計一樣準確。事實上，福剋本人就是個準確性的化身，這一點從他兩衹手和兩衹腳的動作上就可以很清楚地看出來。因為人類的四肢，和其他動物的四肢一樣，本身就是表達感情的器官。
福剋先生是這樣的一種人，生活按部就班，行動精密準確，從來不慌不忙，凡事總有準備，甚至連邁幾步，動幾動，都有一定的節制。福剋先生從不多走一步路，走道總是抄最近的走。他决不無故地朝天花板看一眼，也不無故地做一個手勢，他從來沒有激動過，也從來沒有苦惱過。他是世界上最不性急的人，但也從來沒有因遲到而誤過事。至於他生活孤獨，甚至可以說與世隔絶，這一點，人們是會理解的。他覺得在生活中總要和別人交往，總會發生爭執，這就會耽誤事，因此，他從不與人交往，從不與人爭執。
提起若望，他又叫路路通，是個土生土長的道地的巴黎人。他在英國待了五年，一直在倫敦給人當親隨傭人。但他始終沒有找到過一個合適的主人。
路路通絲毫不是福竜丹、馬斯加裏勒那一流的人。他們衹不過是些聳肩昂首、目空一切、裝腔作勢、瞪眼無情的下流痞子罷了，而路路通卻不是那種人，他是個很正派的大小夥子，他的相貌很討人喜歡。他的嘴唇稍微翹起，看來象是準備要嘗嘗什麽東西，親親什麽人似的。長在他雙肩上的這個圓圓的腦袋使人們有一種和藹可親的感覺，他真是個殷勤而又溫和的人。在他那紅光滿面的臉膛上有一雙碧藍色的眼晴。他的臉相當胖，胖得自己都能看到自己的顴骨。他身軀魁梧，肩寬腰圓，肌肉結實，而且力大非凡。他所以有這樣健壯的體格，都是他青年時代鍛煉的結果，他那棕色的頭髮總是亂蓬蓬的，如果說古代雕塑傢懂得密涅瓦十八種處理頭髮的技藝，那麽路路通卻衹懂得一種：拿起粗齒梳子，刷，刷，刷！三下，就完事大吉。
不管是誰衹要稍微考慮一下，都不會說這小夥子嘻嘻哈哈大大咧咧的性格會跟福剋的脾氣合得來。他是否有象主人所要求的那樣百分之百的準確性呢？這衹有到使喚他的時候才能看得出來。人們知道，路路通青年時代曾經歷過一段東奔西走的流浪生活，現在他很希望穩定下來，好休息休息。他聽到人傢誇奬英國人有條有理一絲不苟的作風和典型的冷靜的紳士氣派，於是就跑到英國來碰運氣了。可是直到目前為止，命運就是不幫他的忙，他在任何地方都紮不住根。他先後換了十傢人傢，這十傢的人都是些性情希奇，脾氣古怪，到處冒險，四海為傢的人。這對路路通說來，是不合他的口味的。他最後的一位東傢是年輕的國會議員浪斯費瑞爵士。這位爵士老爺晚上經常光顧海依市場的牡蠣酒吧，往往叫把他給背回來。路路通為了不失對主人的尊敬，曾經冒險嚮爵士老爺恭恭敬敬地提了些很有分寸的意見。可是結果爵士老爺大發雷霆，路路通就不幹了。趕巧這時候，他聽說福剋先生要找一個傭人，他打聽了一下關於這位紳士的情況，知道他的生活是十分規律化的，既不在外面住宿，又不出門旅行，連一天也沒有遠離過住宅。跟這個人當差，對路路通是太合適了。所以他就登門謁見了福剋先生，把這件差事正如我們前面所說的那樣談妥了。
十一點半敲過，賽微樂街的住宅裏，衹剩下路路通一個人。他馬上開始把整個住宅巡視一番，從地窖到閣樓處處都跑遍了。看來這幢房子整齊、清潔、莊嚴、樸素，而且非常舒適方便。這一下子路路通可開心啦。這所房子對他來說就是個貼體舒適的蝸牛殼。但是這個蝸牛殼是用瓦斯照亮的，因為衹用瓦斯就能滿足這裏一切照明和取暖的需要了。路路通在三樓上一點沒有費事就找到了指定給他住的房子。這間房子挺合他的心意。裏頭還裝着電鈴和傳話筒，可以跟地下室和二層樓的各個屋子聯繫。壁爐上面有個電挂鐘，它跟福剋先生臥室裏的挂鐘對好了鐘點。兩個鐘準確地同時敲響，一秒鐘也不差。
“這太好了，我這一國可稱心如意了！”路路通自言自語地說。
他在自己的房間裏看見一張註意事項表，貼在挂鐘頂上。這是他每天工作的項目——從早上八點鐘福剋先生起床的時候開始一直到十一點半福剋先生去俱樂部吃午飯為止——所有的工作細節：八點二十三分送茶和烤面包，九點三十六分送颳鬍子的熱水，九點四十分理發……然後從上午十一點半一直到夜間十二點——這位有條不紊的紳士睡覺的時候，所有該做的事，統統都寫在上面，交代得清清楚楚。路路通高高興興地把這張工作表細細地琢磨了一番。並把各種該做的事都牢牢地記在心上。
福剋先生的衣櫃裏面裝得滿滿的，各種服裝都有，簡直是應有盡有。每一條褲子，每一件上衣，甚至每一件背心，都標上一個按次排列的號碼。這些號碼同樣又寫在取用和收藏衣物的登記簿上。隨着季節的更替，登記簿上還註明：哪天該輪到穿哪一套衣服，就連穿什麽鞋子，也同樣有一套嚴格的規定。
總之，賽微樂街的這所房子，在那位大名鼎鼎、放蕩不羈的西銳登住在這裏的時代，是個烏七八糟的地方，如今陳設得非常幽美，叫人一看就有輕鬆愉快的感覺。這兒沒有藏書室，甚至連書也沒有一本。這一點對福剋先生說來沒有必要，因為俱樂部裏有兩個圖書館，一個是文藝書籍圖書館，另一個是法律和書籍圖書館，都可供他隨意閱覽。在他臥室裏面，有個不大不小的保險櫃，製造得非常堅固，既能防火，又可防賊。在他住宅裏面，絶無武器，無論是打獵用的，或者是打仗用的，統統沒有。這裏的一切都標志着主人的好靜的性格。
路路通把這所住宅仔仔細細地察看一番之後，他情不自禁地搓着雙手，寬寬的臉膛上露出洋洋得意的笑容，於是左一遍右一遍興高采烈地說：
“這太好了，這正是我的差事，福剋先生跟我，我們倆準會合得來。他是一個不愛出去走動的人，他作事一板一眼活象一架機器！妙呀！伺候一架機器，我是沒有什麽抱怨的了。”
"Faith," muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, "I've seen people at Madame Tussaud's as lively as my new master!"
Madame Tussaud's "people," let it be said, are of wax, and are much visited in London; speech is all that is wanting to make them human.
During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years of age, with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well-shaped figure; his hair and whiskers were light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his face rather pale, his teeth magnificent. His countenance possessed in the highest degree what physiognomists call "repose in action," a quality of those who act rather than talk. Calm and phlegmatic, with a clear eye, Mr. Fogg seemed a perfect type of that English composure which Angelica Kauffmann has so skilfully represented on canvas. Seen in the various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being perfectly well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy chronometer. Phileas Fogg was, indeed, exactitude personified, and this was betrayed even in the expression of his very hands and feet; for in men, as well as in animals, the limbs themselves are expressive of the passions.
He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and was economical alike of his steps and his motions. He never took one step too many, and always went to his destination by the shortest cut; he made no superfluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or agitated. He was the most deliberate person in the world, yet always reached his destination at the exact moment.
He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social relation; and as he knew that in this world account must be taken of friction, and that friction retards, he never rubbed against anybody.
As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris. Since he had abandoned his own country for England, taking service as a valet, he had in vain searched for a master after his own heart. Passepartout was by no means one of those pert dunces depicted by Moliere with a bold gaze and a nose held high in the air; he was an honest fellow, with a pleasant face, lips a trifle protruding, soft-mannered and serviceable, with a good round head, such as one likes to see on the shoulders of a friend. His eyes were blue, his complexion rubicund, his figure almost portly and well-built, his body muscular, and his physical powers fully developed by the exercises of his younger days. His brown hair was somewhat tumbled; for, while the ancient sculptors are said to have known eighteen methods of arranging Minerva's tresses, Passepartout was familiar with but one of dressing his own: three strokes of a large-tooth comb completed his toilet.
It would be rash to predict how Passepartout's lively nature would agree with Mr. Fogg. It was impossible to tell whether the new servant would turn out as absolutely methodical as his master required; experience alone could solve the question. Passepartout had been a sort of vagrant in his early years, and now yearned for repose; but so far he had failed to find it, though he had already served in ten English houses. But he could not take root in any of these; with chagrin, he found his masters invariably whimsical and irregular, constantly running about the country, or on the look-out for adventure. His last master, young Lord Longferry, Member of Parliament, after passing his nights in the Haymarket taverns, was too often brought home in the morning on policemen's shoulders. Passepartout, desirous of respecting the gentleman whom he served, ventured a mild remonstrance on such conduct; which, being ill-received, he took his leave. Hearing that Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was one of unbroken regularity, that he neither travelled nor stayed from home overnight, he felt sure that this would be the place he was after. He presented himself, and was accepted, as has been seen.
At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself alone in the house in Saville Row. He begun its inspection without delay, scouring it from cellar to garret. So clean, well-arranged, solemn a mansion pleased him ; it seemed to him like a snail's shell, lighted and warmed by gas, which sufficed for both these purposes. When Passepartout reached the second story he recognised at once the room which he was to inhabit, and he was well satisfied with it. Electric bells and speaking-tubes afforded communication with the lower stories; while on the mantel stood an electric clock, precisely like that in Mr. Fogg's bedchamber, both beating the same second at the same instant. "That's good, that'll do," said Passepartout to himself.
He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning, exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club--all the details of service, the tea and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the shaving-water at thirty-seven minutes past nine, and the toilet at twenty minutes before ten. Everything was regulated and foreseen that was to be done from half-past eleven a.m. till midnight, the hour at which the methodical gentleman retired.
Mr. Fogg's wardrobe was amply supplied and in the best taste. Each pair of trousers, coat, and vest bore a number, indicating the time of year and season at which they were in turn to be laid out for wearing; and the same system was applied to the master's shoes. In short, the house in Saville Row, which must have been a very temple of disorder and unrest under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was cosiness, comfort, and method idealised. There was no study, nor were there books, which would have been quite useless to Mr. Fogg; for at the Reform two libraries, one of general literature and the other of law and politics, were at his service. A moderate-sized safe stood in his bedroom, constructed so as to defy fire as well as burglars; but Passepartout found neither arms nor hunting weapons anywhere; everything betrayed the most tranquil and peaceable habits.
Having scrutinised the house from top to bottom, he rubbed his hands, a broad smile overspread his features, and he said joyfully, "This is just what I wanted! Ah, we shall get on together, Mr. Fogg and I! What a domestic and regular gentleman! A real machine; well, I don't mind serving a machine."
這兒應該交代一下：杜叟太太傢裏的那些“好好先生”是用蠟做的，在倫敦經常有很多人去欣賞。這種蠟人做得活象真的，就衹差會說話罷了。
路路通在剛纔和福剋先生見面的短短幾分鐘裏，就已經把他這位未來的主人又快又仔細地觀察了一番。看來這人該有四十上下，面容清秀而端莊，高高的個兒雖然略微有點胖，但是並不因此損及他翩翩的風采。金褐色的頭髮和鬍須，光溜平滑的前額，連太陽穴上也看不到一條皺紋。面色淨白，並不紅潤，一口牙齒，整齊美觀。他的個人修養顯然很高，已經達到了如相士們所說的“雖動猶靜”的地步。凡是“多做事，少扯淡”的人所具有的特點他都有。安詳，冷靜，眼皮一眨不眨，眼珠明亮有神，簡直是那種冷靜的英國人最標準的典型。這種人在聯合王國裏是司空見慣的。昂·高夫曼的妙筆，常把他們畫成多少帶點學究氣的人物。從福剋先生日常生活看來，人們有一種印象，覺得這位紳士的一舉一動都是不輕不重，不偏不倚，恰如其分，簡直象李羅阿或是伊恩蕭的精密測時計一樣準確。事實上，福剋本人就是個準確性的化身，這一點從他兩衹手和兩衹腳的動作上就可以很清楚地看出來。因為人類的四肢，和其他動物的四肢一樣，本身就是表達感情的器官。
福剋先生是這樣的一種人，生活按部就班，行動精密準確，從來不慌不忙，凡事總有準備，甚至連邁幾步，動幾動，都有一定的節制。福剋先生從不多走一步路，走道總是抄最近的走。他决不無故地朝天花板看一眼，也不無故地做一個手勢，他從來沒有激動過，也從來沒有苦惱過。他是世界上最不性急的人，但也從來沒有因遲到而誤過事。至於他生活孤獨，甚至可以說與世隔絶，這一點，人們是會理解的。他覺得在生活中總要和別人交往，總會發生爭執，這就會耽誤事，因此，他從不與人交往，從不與人爭執。
提起若望，他又叫路路通，是個土生土長的道地的巴黎人。他在英國待了五年，一直在倫敦給人當親隨傭人。但他始終沒有找到過一個合適的主人。
路路通絲毫不是福竜丹、馬斯加裏勒那一流的人。他們衹不過是些聳肩昂首、目空一切、裝腔作勢、瞪眼無情的下流痞子罷了，而路路通卻不是那種人，他是個很正派的大小夥子，他的相貌很討人喜歡。他的嘴唇稍微翹起，看來象是準備要嘗嘗什麽東西，親親什麽人似的。長在他雙肩上的這個圓圓的腦袋使人們有一種和藹可親的感覺，他真是個殷勤而又溫和的人。在他那紅光滿面的臉膛上有一雙碧藍色的眼晴。他的臉相當胖，胖得自己都能看到自己的顴骨。他身軀魁梧，肩寬腰圓，肌肉結實，而且力大非凡。他所以有這樣健壯的體格，都是他青年時代鍛煉的結果，他那棕色的頭髮總是亂蓬蓬的，如果說古代雕塑傢懂得密涅瓦十八種處理頭髮的技藝，那麽路路通卻衹懂得一種：拿起粗齒梳子，刷，刷，刷！三下，就完事大吉。
不管是誰衹要稍微考慮一下，都不會說這小夥子嘻嘻哈哈大大咧咧的性格會跟福剋的脾氣合得來。他是否有象主人所要求的那樣百分之百的準確性呢？這衹有到使喚他的時候才能看得出來。人們知道，路路通青年時代曾經歷過一段東奔西走的流浪生活，現在他很希望穩定下來，好休息休息。他聽到人傢誇奬英國人有條有理一絲不苟的作風和典型的冷靜的紳士氣派，於是就跑到英國來碰運氣了。可是直到目前為止，命運就是不幫他的忙，他在任何地方都紮不住根。他先後換了十傢人傢，這十傢的人都是些性情希奇，脾氣古怪，到處冒險，四海為傢的人。這對路路通說來，是不合他的口味的。他最後的一位東傢是年輕的國會議員浪斯費瑞爵士。這位爵士老爺晚上經常光顧海依市場的牡蠣酒吧，往往叫把他給背回來。路路通為了不失對主人的尊敬，曾經冒險嚮爵士老爺恭恭敬敬地提了些很有分寸的意見。可是結果爵士老爺大發雷霆，路路通就不幹了。趕巧這時候，他聽說福剋先生要找一個傭人，他打聽了一下關於這位紳士的情況，知道他的生活是十分規律化的，既不在外面住宿，又不出門旅行，連一天也沒有遠離過住宅。跟這個人當差，對路路通是太合適了。所以他就登門謁見了福剋先生，把這件差事正如我們前面所說的那樣談妥了。
十一點半敲過，賽微樂街的住宅裏，衹剩下路路通一個人。他馬上開始把整個住宅巡視一番，從地窖到閣樓處處都跑遍了。看來這幢房子整齊、清潔、莊嚴、樸素，而且非常舒適方便。這一下子路路通可開心啦。這所房子對他來說就是個貼體舒適的蝸牛殼。但是這個蝸牛殼是用瓦斯照亮的，因為衹用瓦斯就能滿足這裏一切照明和取暖的需要了。路路通在三樓上一點沒有費事就找到了指定給他住的房子。這間房子挺合他的心意。裏頭還裝着電鈴和傳話筒，可以跟地下室和二層樓的各個屋子聯繫。壁爐上面有個電挂鐘，它跟福剋先生臥室裏的挂鐘對好了鐘點。兩個鐘準確地同時敲響，一秒鐘也不差。
“這太好了，我這一國可稱心如意了！”路路通自言自語地說。
他在自己的房間裏看見一張註意事項表，貼在挂鐘頂上。這是他每天工作的項目——從早上八點鐘福剋先生起床的時候開始一直到十一點半福剋先生去俱樂部吃午飯為止——所有的工作細節：八點二十三分送茶和烤面包，九點三十六分送颳鬍子的熱水，九點四十分理發……然後從上午十一點半一直到夜間十二點——這位有條不紊的紳士睡覺的時候，所有該做的事，統統都寫在上面，交代得清清楚楚。路路通高高興興地把這張工作表細細地琢磨了一番。並把各種該做的事都牢牢地記在心上。
福剋先生的衣櫃裏面裝得滿滿的，各種服裝都有，簡直是應有盡有。每一條褲子，每一件上衣，甚至每一件背心，都標上一個按次排列的號碼。這些號碼同樣又寫在取用和收藏衣物的登記簿上。隨着季節的更替，登記簿上還註明：哪天該輪到穿哪一套衣服，就連穿什麽鞋子，也同樣有一套嚴格的規定。
總之，賽微樂街的這所房子，在那位大名鼎鼎、放蕩不羈的西銳登住在這裏的時代，是個烏七八糟的地方，如今陳設得非常幽美，叫人一看就有輕鬆愉快的感覺。這兒沒有藏書室，甚至連書也沒有一本。這一點對福剋先生說來沒有必要，因為俱樂部裏有兩個圖書館，一個是文藝書籍圖書館，另一個是法律和書籍圖書館，都可供他隨意閱覽。在他臥室裏面，有個不大不小的保險櫃，製造得非常堅固，既能防火，又可防賊。在他住宅裏面，絶無武器，無論是打獵用的，或者是打仗用的，統統沒有。這裏的一切都標志着主人的好靜的性格。
路路通把這所住宅仔仔細細地察看一番之後，他情不自禁地搓着雙手，寬寬的臉膛上露出洋洋得意的笑容，於是左一遍右一遍興高采烈地說：
“這太好了，這正是我的差事，福剋先生跟我，我們倆準會合得來。他是一個不愛出去走動的人，他作事一板一眼活象一架機器！妙呀！伺候一架機器，我是沒有什麽抱怨的了。”
"Faith," muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, "I've seen people at Madame Tussaud's as lively as my new master!"
Madame Tussaud's "people," let it be said, are of wax, and are much visited in London; speech is all that is wanting to make them human.
During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years of age, with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well-shaped figure; his hair and whiskers were light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his face rather pale, his teeth magnificent. His countenance possessed in the highest degree what physiognomists call "repose in action," a quality of those who act rather than talk. Calm and phlegmatic, with a clear eye, Mr. Fogg seemed a perfect type of that English composure which Angelica Kauffmann has so skilfully represented on canvas. Seen in the various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being perfectly well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy chronometer. Phileas Fogg was, indeed, exactitude personified, and this was betrayed even in the expression of his very hands and feet; for in men, as well as in animals, the limbs themselves are expressive of the passions.
He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and was economical alike of his steps and his motions. He never took one step too many, and always went to his destination by the shortest cut; he made no superfluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or agitated. He was the most deliberate person in the world, yet always reached his destination at the exact moment.
He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social relation; and as he knew that in this world account must be taken of friction, and that friction retards, he never rubbed against anybody.
As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris. Since he had abandoned his own country for England, taking service as a valet, he had in vain searched for a master after his own heart. Passepartout was by no means one of those pert dunces depicted by Moliere with a bold gaze and a nose held high in the air; he was an honest fellow, with a pleasant face, lips a trifle protruding, soft-mannered and serviceable, with a good round head, such as one likes to see on the shoulders of a friend. His eyes were blue, his complexion rubicund, his figure almost portly and well-built, his body muscular, and his physical powers fully developed by the exercises of his younger days. His brown hair was somewhat tumbled; for, while the ancient sculptors are said to have known eighteen methods of arranging Minerva's tresses, Passepartout was familiar with but one of dressing his own: three strokes of a large-tooth comb completed his toilet.
It would be rash to predict how Passepartout's lively nature would agree with Mr. Fogg. It was impossible to tell whether the new servant would turn out as absolutely methodical as his master required; experience alone could solve the question. Passepartout had been a sort of vagrant in his early years, and now yearned for repose; but so far he had failed to find it, though he had already served in ten English houses. But he could not take root in any of these; with chagrin, he found his masters invariably whimsical and irregular, constantly running about the country, or on the look-out for adventure. His last master, young Lord Longferry, Member of Parliament, after passing his nights in the Haymarket taverns, was too often brought home in the morning on policemen's shoulders. Passepartout, desirous of respecting the gentleman whom he served, ventured a mild remonstrance on such conduct; which, being ill-received, he took his leave. Hearing that Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was one of unbroken regularity, that he neither travelled nor stayed from home overnight, he felt sure that this would be the place he was after. He presented himself, and was accepted, as has been seen.
At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself alone in the house in Saville Row. He begun its inspection without delay, scouring it from cellar to garret. So clean, well-arranged, solemn a mansion pleased him ; it seemed to him like a snail's shell, lighted and warmed by gas, which sufficed for both these purposes. When Passepartout reached the second story he recognised at once the room which he was to inhabit, and he was well satisfied with it. Electric bells and speaking-tubes afforded communication with the lower stories; while on the mantel stood an electric clock, precisely like that in Mr. Fogg's bedchamber, both beating the same second at the same instant. "That's good, that'll do," said Passepartout to himself.
He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning, exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club--all the details of service, the tea and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the shaving-water at thirty-seven minutes past nine, and the toilet at twenty minutes before ten. Everything was regulated and foreseen that was to be done from half-past eleven a.m. till midnight, the hour at which the methodical gentleman retired.
Mr. Fogg's wardrobe was amply supplied and in the best taste. Each pair of trousers, coat, and vest bore a number, indicating the time of year and season at which they were in turn to be laid out for wearing; and the same system was applied to the master's shoes. In short, the house in Saville Row, which must have been a very temple of disorder and unrest under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was cosiness, comfort, and method idealised. There was no study, nor were there books, which would have been quite useless to Mr. Fogg; for at the Reform two libraries, one of general literature and the other of law and politics, were at his service. A moderate-sized safe stood in his bedroom, constructed so as to defy fire as well as burglars; but Passepartout found neither arms nor hunting weapons anywhere; everything betrayed the most tranquil and peaceable habits.
Having scrutinised the house from top to bottom, he rubbed his hands, a broad smile overspread his features, and he said joyfully, "This is just what I wanted! Ah, we shall get on together, Mr. Fogg and I! What a domestic and regular gentleman! A real machine; well, I don't mind serving a machine."