The dwellers in Saville Row would have been surprised, the next day, if they had been told that Phileas Fogg had returned home. His doors and windows were still closed; no appearance of change was visible.
After leaving the station, Mr Fogg gave Passepartout instructions to purchase some provisions, and quietly went to his domicile.
He bore his misfortune with his habitual tranquillity. Ruined！ And by the blundering of the detective！ After having steadily traversed that long journey, overcome a hundred obstacles, braved many dangers, and still found time to do some good on his way, to fail near the goal by a sudden event which he could not have foreseen, and against which he was unarmed; it was terrible！ But a few pounds were left of the large sum he had carried with him. There only remained of his fortune the twenty thousand pounds deposited at Barings, and this amount he owed to his friends of the Reform Club. So great had been the expense of his tour, that, even had he won, it would not have enriched him; and it is probable that he had not sought to enrich himself, being a man who rather laid wagers for honour's sake than for the stake proposed. But this wager totally ruined him.
Mr Fogg's course, however, was fully decided upon; he knew what remained for him to do.
A room in the house in Saville Row was set apart for Aouda, who was overwhelmed with grief at her protector's misfortune. From the words which Mr Fogg dropped, she saw that he was meditating some serious project.
Knowing that Englishmen governed by a fixed idea sometimes resort to the desperate expedient of suicide, Passepartout kept a narrow watch upon his master, though he carefully concealed the appearance of so doing.
First of all, the worthy fellow had gone up to his room, and had extinguishede gas burner, which - had been burning for eighty days. He had found in the letter-box a bill from the gas company, and he thought it more than time to put a stop to this expense, which he had been doomed to bear.
The night passed. Mr Fogg went to bed, but did he sleep? Aouda did not once close her eyes. Passepartout watched all night, like a faithful dog, at his master's door.
Mr Fogg called him in the morning, and told him to get Aouda's breakfast, and a cup of tea and a chop for himself. He desired Aouda to excuse him from breakfast and dinner, as his time would be absorbed all day in putting his affairs to rights. In the evening he would ask permission to have a few moments' conversation with the young lady.
Passepartout, having received his orders, had nothing to do but obey them. He looked at his imperturbable master, and could scarcely bring his mind to leave him. His heart was full, and his conscience tortured by remorse; for he accused himself more bitterly than ever of being the cause of the irretrievable disaster. Yes！ if he had warned Mr Fogg, and had betrayed Fix's projects to him, his master would certainly not have given the detective passage to Liverpool, and then--
Passepartout could hold in no longer.
`My master！ Mr Fogg！' he cried. `Why do you not curse me? It was my fault that--'
`I blame no one,' returned Phileas Fogg, with perfect calmness. `Go！'
Passepartout left the room, and went to find Aouda, to whom he delivered his master's message.
`Madam,' he added, `I can do nothing myself - nothing！ I have no influence over my master; but you, perhaps--'
`What influence could I have?' replied Aouda. `Mr Fogg is influenced by no one. Has he ever understood that my gratitude to him is overflowing? Has he ever read my heart? My friend, he must not be left alone an instant！ You say he is going to speak with me this evening?'
`Yes, madam; probably to arrange for your protection and comfort in England.'
`We shall see,' replied Aouda, becoming suddenly pensive.
Throughout this day （Sunday） the house in Saville Row was as if uninhabited, and Phileas Fogg, for the first time since he had lived in that house, did not set out for his club when Westminster clock struck half-past eleven.
Why should he present himself at the Reform? His friends no longer expected him there. As Phileas Fogg had not appeared in the saloon on the evening before （Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine）， he had lost his wager. It was not even necessary that he should go to his bankers for the twenty thousand pounds; for his antagonists already had his cheque in their hands, and they had only to fill it out and send it to the Barings to have the amount transferred to their credit.
Mr Fogg, therefore, had no reason for going out, and so he remained at home. He shut himself up in his room, and busied himself putting his affairs in order. Passepartout continually ascended and descended the stairs. The hours were long for him. He listened at his master's door, and looked through the keyhole, as if he had a perfect right so to do, and as if he feared that something terrible might happen at any moment. Sometimes he thought of Fix, but no longer in anger. Fix, like all the world, had been mistaken in Phileas Fogg, and had only done his duty in tracking and arresting him; while he, Passepartout - . This thought haunted him, and he never ceased cursing his miserable folly.
Finding himself too wretched to remain alone, he knocked at Aouda's door, went into her room, seated himself, without speaking, in a corner, and looked ruefully at the young woman. Aouda was still pensive.
About half-past seven in the evening Mr Fogg sent to know if Aouda would receive him, and in a few moments he found himself alone with her.
Phileas Fogg took a chair, and sat down near the fireplace, opposite Aouda. No emotion was visible on his face. Fogg returned was exactly the Fogg who had gone away; there was the same calm, the same impassibility.
He sat several minutes without speaking; then, bending his eyes on Aouda, `Madam,' said he, `will you pardon me for bringing you to England?'
`I, Mr Fogg！' replied Aouda, checking the pulsations of her heart.
`Please let me finish,' returned Mr Fogg. `When I decided to bring you far away from the country which was so unsafe for you, I was rich, and counted on putting a portion of my fortune at your disposal; then your existence would have been free and happy. But now I am ruined.'
`I know it, Mr Fogg,' replied Aouda; `and I ask you in my turn, will you forgive me for having followed you, and - who knows? - for having, perhaps, delayed you, and thus contributed to your ruin?'
`Madam, you could not remain in India, and your safety could only be assured by bringing you to such a distance that your persecutors could not take you.'
`So, Mr Fogg,' resumed Aouda, `not content with rescuing me from a terrible death, you thought yourself bound to secure my comfort in a foreign land?'
`Yes, madam; but circumstances have been against me. Still, I beg to place the little I have left at your service.'
`But what will become of you, Mr Fogg?'
`As for me, madam,' replied the gentleman, coldly, `I have need of nothing.'
`But how do you look upon the fate, sir, which awaits you?'
`As I am in the habit of doing.'
`At least,' said Aouda, `want should not overtake a man like you. Your friends--'
`I have no friends, madam.'
`Your relatives--'
`I have no longer any relatives.'
`I pity you, then, Mr Fogg, for solitude is a sad thing, with no heart to which to confide your griefs. They say, though, that misery itself, shared by two sympathetic souls may be borne with patience.
`They say so, madam.'
`Mr Fogg,' said Aouda, rising and seizing his hand, `do you wish at once a kinswoman and friend? Will you have me for your wife?'
Mr Fogg, at this, rose in turn. There was an unwonted light in his eyes, and slight trembling of his lips. Aouda looked into his face. The sincerity, rectitude, firmness and sweetness of this soft glance of a noble woman, who could dare all to save him to whom she owed all, at first astonished, then penetrated him. He shut his eyes for an instant, as if to avoid her look. When he opened them again, `I love you！' he said, simply. `Yes, by all that is holiest, I love you, and I am entirely yours！'
`Ah！' cried Aouda, pressing his hand to her heart.
Passepartout was summoned and appeared immediately. Mr Fogg still held Aouda's hand in his own; Passepartout understood, and his big, round face became as radiant as the tropical sun at its zenith.
Mr Fogg asked him if it was not too late to notify the Reverend Samuel Wilson, of Marylebone Parish, that evening.
Passepartout smiled his most genial smile, and said, `Never too late.'
It was five minutes past eight.
`Will it be for tomorrow, Monday?'
`For tomorrow, Monday,' said Fogg, turning to Aouda.
`Yes; for tomorrow, Monday,' she replied.
Passepartout hurried off as fast as his legs could carry him.
第二天，如果有人告诉赛微乐街的居民说福克先生已经回家了，那他们一定会感到非常奇怪。因为门和窗户都照样关着，外面看来没有一点变化。实际上，斐利亚·福克离开车站之后就叫路路通去买些吃的东西，自己就跟艾娥达夫人直接回家了。
这位绅士受了这次打击仍然和往常一样不动声色。他垮台了！都是那笨蛋侦探的罪过！
他在这次漫长的旅途中稳步前进，他扫除了无数障碍，经历了无数危险，路上还抽出时间做了些好事，然而，就在大功告成的时候，却碰上了这一场突如其来的祸事，使他一败涂地，不可收拾，这样的结局太可怕了！他离开伦敦时带了那么多钱，如今只剩下一点点儿了。他的全部财产就只是存在巴林兄弟那儿的两万英镑了。而这两万英镑还要付给改良俱乐部的那些会友。按照旅途中他花的这么多钱来说，即使是赌赢了，他也赚不到钱。显然福克先生决不是为赢钱才打赌的，他打赌是为了荣誉；但是这一回要是输了，他就会彻底破产，再说，这位绅士的命运现在已经决定了。他很清楚自己该如何处理善后问题。
艾娥达夫人住在赛微乐街福克先生特为她准备的一间房子里。她很难过，因为从福克先生说的一些话中，她已经了解到他正在考虑着一个伤心的计划。
实际上，我们知道，象他这样一个性情孤僻的英国人，有时思想钻进了牛角尖，就会选择一条极端悲惨的出路。因此路路通表面上装得若无其事，暗地却时刻注意着他的主人。不过，这个忠实的小伙子还是先回到自己的房里，把那个开了八十天的煤气龙头关上，他在信箱里拿到一份煤气公司缴费通知单。他觉得这一笔应该归他付账的煤气费该到此为止了。
这一夜过去了。福克先生也照常睡了。不过，他是否睡着了，这还是一个疑问。而艾娥达夫人是一刻也不能合眼，至于路路通，他象一条狗似的守在主人的房门口，怕发生什么意外。
第二天早晨，福克先生把路路通叫来，很简单地吩咐他去给艾娥达夫人预备午饭，他自己只要一杯茶和一片烤面包。艾娥达夫人一点也不怨他不能陪自己吃午饭和晚饭，因为他要用全部时间处理一些事务。他今天一天都不下楼，但是他希望晚上艾娥达夫人能跟他谈一会儿。
路路通接受了主人吩咐，这一天的工作日程已经算是排定了，只要照办就行了。他望着这位永远没有表情的主人，他还不想离开主人的房间。这次无可挽回的祸事使他的心情很沉重；他的良心深感不安，他不住地在怨恨自己。可不是！如果他把侦探费克斯的阴谋早告诉福克先生，如果他把这事预先向自己主人揭露，福克先生就决不会把侦探带到利物浦，那么也就不会……
路路通难过得简直受不了了。
“我的主人！福克先生！”他叫着说，“您骂我吧！这都是我的错……”
“我谁也不怨，”斐利亚·福克用非常镇静的语气说，“你去吧。”
路路通离开了主人的房间，见了艾娥达夫人，向她传达了福克先生的话，然后他又接着说：
“夫人，我自己是一点儿办法也没有了！我对他的情绪不能发生一点影响，也许您能……”
“我对他又能发生什么影响呢？”艾娥达夫人说，“福克先生是一点也不会受我的影响的！我对他这种万分感激的心情，他知道吗？他了解我的心吗？……我的朋友，您快回去吧！一刻也别离开他。您说他今天晚上想跟我谈谈吗？”
“是的，夫人，我想一定是跟您商量今后您在英国待下去的问题。”
“好吧，”艾娥达夫人说，她显然是在沉思着。
今天这个星期日，赛微乐街的这所房子一整天都是这样沉寂，就好象里面没有住人似的。当国会大厦钟楼上的大钟打十一点半的时候，斐利亚·福克并没到俱乐部去，自从他住进这所房子以来这还是头一次。
这位绅士再到改良俱乐部去干什么呢？他的同僚们已经不在那里等他了。因为昨天晚上是星期六，在这个决定命运的12月21日八点四十五分斐利亚·福克没有回到改良俱乐部大厅，他的赌注已经输了。他也不必再到巴林兄弟银行去取他那两万英镑了。那些跟他打赌的对手手里有一张他签的支票，只要很简单地在巴林兄弟银行办一下过户手续，那两万英镑就转到他们的账上了。
福克先生既然没有必要出门，所以他就不出去。他待在自己房间里，安排自己的事。路路通在赛微乐街住宅里，不停地楼上楼下地忙着。这个小伙子觉得时间过得太慢了。他过一会儿就到他主人房门口听听。他提醒自己千万不能有一点疏忽大意！他从钥匙孔向屋子里偷看，他认为这是自己的责任！路路通时时刻刻都在担心着怕会发生什么不幸。有时他又想起了费克斯。但是，他心里对费克斯的看法现在也转变了，他不再怨恨这个警察厅密探。因为费克斯是出于误会，这和其他的人对斐利亚·福克发生误会一样。他跟踪福克先生，并且把他逮捕，这不过是履行他自己的职务；可是我路路通干的是什么呢？……这个思想使他痛苦死了。他觉得自己是最大的罪人。最后，路路通感到一个人实在太痛苦了，他就去敲艾娥达夫人的门，他进了她的房间，坐在角落里一句话也不说，望着心事重重的艾娥达夫人。将近七点半钟的时候，福克先生叫路路通去问一下艾娥达夫人现在是否可以接见他，过了一会儿，房间里只剩下艾娥达夫人和福克先生了。
斐利亚·福克面对着艾娥达夫人坐在壁炉旁边一把椅子上。他脸上一点激动的表情也没有。旅行归来的福克和从伦敦出发时的福克一模一样，依然那样安详，那样镇静。他坐在那里足有五分钟没讲一句话。最后，他终于抬起头来望着艾娥达夫人说：
“夫人，您能原谅我把您带到英国来吗？”
“我，福克先生！……”艾娥达夫人压制着自己那颗在剧烈跳动的心，回答说。
“请您听我说完，”福克先生说，“当我决定把您从那个对您说来是非常危险的地方带出来的时候，我还是个有钱的人。当时我打算把自己的一部分财产分给您。那么您的生活就会很自在，很幸福。可是现在，我已经破产了。”
“这我知道，福克先生，”年轻的夫人说，“请您让我问您一句：天知道，也许正是因为我在路上拖累了您，耽搁了您的时间以致让您破了产，您能原谅我吗？”
“夫人，您不能留在印度，您只有离开那些狂热的宗教徒，他们才不会再抓到您，您的安全才能得到保障。”
“可是，您，福克先生，您已经把我从可怕的死亡里救了出来，可是您还不满意，您还一定要使我在外国有一个安定的生活。”
“是的，夫人，”福克先生说，“可是，事情的发展却完全跟我主观的愿望相反。目前我只剩下很少的一点财产，我请求您答应接受这一点财产，作为您今后的生活费用。”“可是，您呢？福克先生，您以后怎么办呢？”艾娥达夫人说。
“我，夫人，”这位绅士冷静地说，“我什么也不需要。”
“可是，先生，您怎么去应付您当前的情况呢？”
“该怎么办就怎么办吧。”福克先生回答说。
“不过，”艾娥达夫人说，“象您这样的人是不会没有出路的。您的朋友们应该……”“我一个朋友也没有，夫人。”
“您没有别的亲属吗……”
“我已经没有任何亲人了。”
“那我真替您难过，福克先生，因为孤独是很痛苦的。难道您就没有一个亲人能分担您的痛苦吗？可是人们常说，痛苦似重担，两人来分摊，强似一人担。”
“是的，夫人，有这句话。”
“福克先生，”艾娥达夫人这时站起来把手伸给福克先生，接着说，“您愿不愿我做您的朋友，同时又做您的亲人？您愿不愿意我做您的妻子？”
听了这句话，福克先生跟着也站了起来。他的眼睛闪耀着一种不同寻常的光彩，他的嘴唇在颤动。艾娥达夫人望着他，从这位尊贵夫人的那双妩媚动人的眼睛里，流露出诚恳、直率、坚定和温柔的感情。艾娥达夫人为援救这位曾经为她赴汤蹈火的绅士，她什么都敢作。她那脉脉含情的目光最初使福克先生感到突然，接着他整个心都被这目光浸透了。福克的眼睛闭了一会儿，仿佛要避开她那美丽动人的目光，使它们不再继续深入……当他重睁开眼睛时，他说：
“我爱您！”他简单地说，“是的，说实在话，我愿在世界上最神圣的真主上帝的面前对您说：我爱您，我完全是您的！”
“哦！……”艾娥达夫人把手压在自己心上，激动地说。
路路通听到屋子里打铃叫他，他马上进来了。福克先生仍然在握着艾娥达夫人的手。路路通心里早明白了，他那张大脸高兴得就象热带地平线上的夕阳，又圆又红又亮。
福克先生问路路通现在到马利勒坡纳教堂去请萨缪尔·威尔逊神甫是不是太晚了。
路路通高兴得连嘴也合不拢了。
“什么时候也不会太晚！”他说。
“那么我们就在明天，星期一，好吗？”福克先生望着艾娥达夫人说。
“就在明天星期一吧！”艾娥达夫人回答说。
路路通急忙跑出去了。