Passepartout, overcome by what he had heard, held his head between his hands, and did not dare to look at the detective. Phileas Fogg, the saviour of Aouda, that brave and generous man, a robber! And yet how many presumptions there were against him! Passepartout tried to reject the suspicions which forced themselves upon his mind. He did not wish to believe that his master was guilty.
"Well, what do you want of me?" he said, at last, with an effort.
"See here," replied Fix, "I have tracked Mr. Fogg to this place, but as yet I have failed to receive the warrant of arrest for which I sent to London. You must help me to keep him here in Hong Kong—"
"I! But I—"
"I will share with you the two thousand pounds reward offered by the Bank of England."
"Never!" replied Passepartout, who tried to rise, but fell back, exhausted in mind and body.
"Mr. Fix," he stammered, "even should what you say be true—if my master is really the robber you are seeking for—which I deny—I have been, am, in his service. I have seen his generosity and goodness; and I will never betray him—not for all the gold in the world. I come from a village where they don't eat that kind of bread!"
"You refuse?"
"I refuse."
"Consider that I've said nothing," said Fix, "and let us drink."