Passe-partout having received his orders had only to obey them, but he found it impossible to leave his master's room. His heart was full, his conscience was troubled with remorse, for he could not help blaming himself for the disaster. If he had only warned his master about Fix, Mr. Fogg would not have brought the detective to Liverpool, and then—
Passe-partout could hold out no longer.
"Oh, Mr. Fogg!" he exclaimed, "do you not curse me? It is all my fault—"
"I blame no one," replied Phileas Fogg, in his usual calm tone. "Go!"
Passe-partout quitted the room and sought Mrs. Aouda, to whom he delivered his message.
"Madam," he added, "I am powerless. I have no influence over my master's mind; perhaps you may have."
"What influence can I have?" she replied; "Mr. Fogg will submit to no one. Has he really ever understood how grateful I am to him? Has he ever read my heart? He must not be left alone an instant. You say he is going to see me this evening?"
"Yes, madam. No doubt to make arrangements for your sojourn in
England."
"Let us wait, then," replied the young lady, becoming suddenly thoughtful.
So, through all that Sunday, the house in Saville Row appeared uninhabited; and for the first time since he had lived in it, Phileas Fogg did not go to his club as Big Ben was striking half-past eleven.