through the memorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference;
did not care to recognise the historic towns and villages which,
along its borders, raised their picturesque outlines against the sky;
and betrayed no fear of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the old
historians always spoke of with horror, and upon which the ancient
navigators never ventured without propitiating the gods by ample sacrifices.
How did this eccentric personage pass his time on the Mongolia? He made his
four hearty meals every day, regardless of the most persistent rolling
and pitching on the part of the steamer; and he played whist indefatigably,
for he had found partners as enthusiastic in the game as himself.
A tax-collector, on the way to his post at Goa; the Rev. Decimus Smith,
returning to his parish at Bombay; and a brigadier-general of the English army,
who was about to rejoin his brigade at Benares, made up the party, and,
with Mr. Fogg, played whist by the hour together in absorbing silence.

As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, and took his meals
conscientiously in the forward cabin. He rather enjoyed the voyage,
for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in the scenes
through which they were passing, and consoled himself with the delusion
that his master's whim would end at Bombay. He was pleased, on the day after
leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging person with whom he had walked
and chatted on the quays.

"If I am not mistaken," said he, approaching this person, with his most
amiable smile, "you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered
to guide me at Suez?"

"Ah! I quite recognise you. You are the servant of the strange Englishman--"

"Just so, monsieur--"