Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face
and figure which made its appearance. Presently one of
the passengers, after vigorously pushing his way through the
importunate crowd of porters, came up to him and politely asked if
he could point out the English consulate, at the same time showing
a passport which he wished to have visaed. Fix instinctively took
the passport, and with a rapid glance read the description
of its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise nearly escaped him,
for the description in the passport was identical with 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--"

"He stayed on board."

"But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his identity."

"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 hundred steps off.