ly decorated, at the end of which was a large campbed furnished with cushions. Several persons lay upon this bed in a deep sleep. At the same tables which were arranged about the room some thirty customers were drinking English beer, porter, gin and brandy; smoking, the while, long red clay pipes stuffed with little balls of opium mingled with essence of rose. From time to time one of the smokers, overcome with the narcotic, would slip under the table, whereupon the waiters, taking him by the head and feet, carried and laid him upon the bed. The bed already supported twenty of these stupefied sots.

Fix and Passepartout saw that they were in a smoking-house haunted by those wretched, cadaverous, idiotic creatures, to whom the English merchants sell every year the miserable drug called opium, to the amount of one million four hundred thousand pounds - thousands devoted to one of the most despicable vices which afflict humanity! The Chinese government has in vain attempted to deal with the evil by stringent laws. It passed gradually from the rich, to whom it was at first exclusively reserved, to the lower classes, and then its ravages could not be arrested. Opium is smoked everywhere, at all times, by men and women, in the Celestial Empire; and, once accustomed to it, the victims cannot dispense with it, except by suffering horrible bodily contortions and agonies. A great smoker can smoke as many as eight pipes a day; but he dies in five years. It was in one of these dens that Fix and Passepartout, in search of a friendly glass, found themselves. Passepartout had no money, but willingly accepted Fix's invitation in the hope of returning the obligation at some future time.

They ordered two bottles of port, to which the Frenchman did ample justice, whilst Fix observed him with close attention. They chatted about the journey, and Passepartout was especially merry at the idea that Fix was going to continue it with them. When the bottles were empty, however, he rose to go and tell his master of the change in the time of the sailing of the `Carnatic'.

Fix caught him by the arm, and said, `Wait a moment.'

`What for, Mr Fix?'

`I want to have a serious talk with you.'

`A serious talk!' cried Passepartout, drinking up the little wine that was left in the bottom of his glass. `Well, we'll talk about it to-morrow; I haven't time now.'

`Stay! What I have to say concerns your master.'

Passepartout, at this, looked attentively at his companion. Fix's face seemed to have a singular expression. He resumed his seat.

`What is it that you have to say?'

Fix placed his hand upon Passepartout's arm, and, lowering his voice, said, `You have guessed who I am?'

`Parbleu!' said Passepartout, smiling. `Then I'm going to tell you everything--'

`Now that I know everything, my friend! Ah! that's very good. But go on, go on. First, though, let me tell you that those gentlemen have put themselves to a useless expense.'

`Useless!' said Fix. `You speak confidently. It's clear that you don't know how large the sum is.'

`Of course I do,' returned Passepartout. `Twenty thousand pounds.'

`Fifty-five thousand!' answered Fix, pressing his companion's hand.

`What!' cried the Frenchman. `Has Monsieur Fogg dared - fifty-five thousand pounds! Well, there's all the more reason for not losing an instant,' he continued, getting up hastily.

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