Phileas Fogg : Victorian Superhero (Part One)

[CelticMuscle]

"And hold it there, Mr. Fogg!"

The photographer for the London Chronicle pressed the button on his camera and the flash of lighting powder filled the room. As the smoke cleared, Mr. Fogg coughed harshly

"Yes, I'm sorry about that!" said the photographer, "perhaps your colleagues at the Reform Club might come up with a way to do it smokeless, so to speak!"

Mr. Fogg chuckled as the photographer removed the plate and showed it to Mr. Fogg

http://content6.flixster.com/photo/1...916876_gal.jpg
(I would appreicate it, if this link could appear as an actual picture)

"You don't think I look a bit, well, fierce?" asked Mr. Fogg looking at the picture.

"I was asked to take a picture that represented your mood when dealing with those ruffians in Brindisi, Mr. Fogg!" replied the photographer, "and may I say that showing them an Englishman can handle a cane was a master stroke!"

Mr. Fogg blushed slightly as he helped the photographer out of his house on Saville Row and opened the door just as Passepartout made his way in.

"Sir" the photographer said to Passepartout, "your master is a true gentleman. Good day!"

As the photographer left, Passepartout asked his master, "Did you tell him everything?"

Phileas smiled as he closed the door. "No one would believe me!" he said

***

It had been three days since Phileas Fogg had been challenged to travel around the world in eighty days by his Reform Club colleagues and he had already arrived in Brindisi, Italy and as he had some time to spend before boarding the Mongolia decided to follow his manservant's suggestion and have a traditional Italian lunch of spaghetti.

"MMMMMM" Phileas said, the smells of the kitchen wafting into his nose, "that smells lovely. What did you call it again?"

"Carbonara" replied the head chef giving the sauce another stir and pouring in some more cream, "and this sauce is like no other, Signore!"

"I can't wait to try it!" Phileas smiled as he resumed his seat in the restaurant next to his manservant and was gently humming along to the string trio when his meal arrived. After a little trouble, he was eating like a true Italian.

"Hey, che non ? giusto!"

The sound of distress broke into his enjoyment of the meal and looking up he saw a flower seller being menaced by three sailors (all of whom were at least a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier). Without warning, the sailor grabbed the flowers and ripped them to shreds saying "25 Lire? Non sto pagando!"

Phileas looked at his manservant who said "They consider 25 lire to be too much for those flowers and thinks they should be thrown in the bin!"

Phileas calmly stood up and putting his hat on his head and picking up his cane, he walked over to the sailors and tapped one of them on the shoulder with his cane.

"Now, look here, sir!" he said, staring at the sailor without blinking, "this lady had clearly gone to a lot of trouble to pick these flowers and I believe that 25 lire is a valid charge, now how about paying the lady and being on your way?"

The sailor looked at Phileas with an expression of anger which was reflected in his next action as he pulled up his sleeves and bent his arm in front of the Englishman and then put both his hands up and said "Voi! Me! Al di fuori e lotta!". Passepartout ran up and said "Monsieur, you have been challenged to a fight!"

"Queensbury Rules, eh?" Phileas said as he strode outside closely followed by the sailors who formed a triangle around him. Phileas calmly took off his jacket and hat and handed them to Passepartout. He then winked at his manservant and smiled. "Remember that secret I was going to tell you about!". Passepartout nodded. "Watch and learn!"

He held his cane aloft and shouted "For the honour of England!" and before the sailors could react, Phileas Fogg glowed brightly and roared. After only a few seconds, the glow faded and there stood a person dressed from top to toe in a uniform akin to the soliders fighting in the Cape but covered in the flag of St. George and clearly massively strong. The person brought the cane to the ground and bowed. "I am Captain England" he announced, "and you need to be taught a lesson in politeness!"

A sailor came towards him with a knife and the man backed away from the sailor into another sailor who put his tattooed arm around the man's neck. "So that's the way you want to play, eh?" the man said and with that he kicked him in the stomach with his boots. As the sailor collapsed inwards, he thumped the sailor down and turned to face the other two sailors.

Charging towards the man, he let his cane hit one of them on the head and caused him to collapse in a heap then hit the other sailor's knee which caused him to scream in agony.

The first sailor roared and flung himself at the man but was tripped up the and was given a "good whacking" in order to knock some sense into him before he too collapsed unconcious. The man turned to the flower seller and the stunned Passepartout, tapped his cane on the ground and glowed. A few seconds later, Phileas Fogg stepped forward and gave the flower seller a crisp 50 lire note and said "Arrivederci!" before leaving the scene and beckoning his manservant to follow.

"But, monsieur" asked Passepartout stunned at what he had just seen, "Who was that man?"

"I'll explain on the Mongolia!" Mr. Fogg smiled.

[michaelv2]

A steampunk MG story? My prayers have been answered!

[CelticMuscle]

That evening as the Mongolia sailed out of Brindisi harbour heading towards Suez, Phileas Fogg settled down to write his journal of the day's events. Passepartout gave him his usual evening cup of tea and watched as his master wrote "Brindisi, October 5th 1872, arrived on time, had lunch, dealt with some ruffians, left on time!"

"But, Monsieur" said Passepartout, "you did more than deal with those ruffians, you swept the floor with them".

Phileas turned to his manservant and smiled. "Let me tell you how I got to be in this position"

***

October 1830 was a fairly standard month in the lives of the residents of Southam, a small village in Warwickshire, however the events of one evening in the middle of the month would change the world.

Mrs. Willimia Fogg was heavily pregnant as she rode to be with her husband at his country home in Southam and was (thanks to the poor roads) already quite late when without warning a loud bang was heard just outside the carriage. The driver had to use all his skills to prevent the carriage from tipping over but neither him, Mrs. Fogg or the horsemen were hurt. Stepping down from the carriage, the driver walked along the road and found a lump of rock embedded in the ground that was gently glowing. He fished it out of the hole with his jacket and brought it back to the carriage and asked Mrs. Fogg if she would take it to her husband to identify.

At midnight that evening, Mrs. Fogg gave birth to a bouncing boy and as she held him in her arms, she named the child Phileas after her father who had lost his life in the Napoleonic Wars.

Phileas grew up to be a well rounded young man, but on his 20th birthday in 1850, something happened that shaped the rest of his life. He was taking part in a friendly game of rugby between Eton School and King's College, Oxford when he was tackled by a giant of player from the Oxford team who then proceeded to beat Phileas black and blue. Phileas protected himself as best he could but couldn't control his anger any more. He gritted his teeth and punched the player so hard in the stomach that the player was thrown backwards by the force. Phileas got to his feet and shouted "Sir, you are an Englishman, I am an Englishman and I play by the rules of this game and for the honour of England!"

No sooner had he spoke than he roared. The sensations he was feeling was a combination of agony and power. He could feel himself getting bigger, stronger and more powerful than the recent steam locomotives. His screams became lower in tone as he grew taller and eventually subsided. He stepped back reeling from the assualt on his senses and was stared at by the entire rugby team.

"Who...Who are you?" gasped the player who had assualted him

"I am Captain England!" Phileas roared and with that picked the player up, jumped into the air and dropped him on the rugby goal posts.

***

Passepartout looked at his master in amazement. "You're really Captain England?" he asked. Phileas nodded, "but you cannot tell anyone else, agreed?"

Passepartout nodded and shook his master's hand.

[CelticMuscle]

Mr. Fogg was making excellent progress in his journey and was already crossing the vast continent of British India and had picked up another travelling companion. Brigadier Francis Cromarty of Her Majesty's Garrison at Benares, British India, which was just as well as the morning of Day 20 of his journey came to rather a stagering halt. The reason? The railway, having been advertised as been completed between Bombay and Calcutta had not been completed and now terminated at Kholby, a village literally in the middle of nowhere right in the heart of the Indian jungle and home to the followers of Kali, the goddess of death and destruction.

***

Mr. Fogg, Passepartout and the Brigadier hid behind a palm tree as the strange procession passed by them. First came the priests, with mitres on their heads, and clothed in long lace robes. Men, women, and children, who sang a kind of lugubrious psalm, interrupted at regular intervals by the tambourines and cymbals, surrounded them. A group of old fakirs were capering and making a wild ado round a statue; Some Brahmins, clad in all the sumptuousness of Oriental apparel, and leading a woman who faltered at every step, followed. This woman was young, and as fair as a European. Her head and neck, shoulders, ears, arms, hands, and toes were loaded down with jewels and gems with bracelets, earrings, and rings; while a tunic bordered with gold, and covered with a light muslin robe, betrayed the outline of her form. The High Priestess was leading the procession and praising the name of Kali.

As the procession cleared the brow of the hill, the Brigadier took his helmet off and held in front of his chest, his head bowed. "The poor woman" he said and explained that they had seen a procession that would culiminate in the act of suttee, the ritual burning of the wife of a follower of Kali.

"Not if I can help it!" said Mr. Fogg and strode off after the procession

***

As the sky started to lighten in the east, the Brigadier and Mr. Fogg were deep in conversation and had agreed to rescue the woman. Passepartout tried dropping hints as to how to do it, but everytime he suggested an idea it was rejected.

"Don't you think this is a suitable occasion for them to feel the power of the English nation?" he asked

"Don't be silly!" said the Brigadier, "the nearest garrison is over 50 miles away and we have no means to contact them!"

Passepartout threw his hands up in despair and walked away from them.

"Are all Frenchmen like that?" the Brigadier asked Mr. Fogg as they continued their plans.

Passepartout kicked a coconut and swore under his breath. Here was a golden chance for Mr. Fogg to use his powers to save a person's life and he wasn't. Why, he could save her without even breaking into a sweat. So he decided there and then to do just so.

***

The sun was rising in the east as the poor woman was brought out from the temple and still affected by the hang she had been administered was laid on the pyre. Mr. Fogg felt the Brigadier's hand on his shoulder and knew that they had to act now. He had mentally agrued with himself the whole night. Should he become Captain England and reveal his identity to the Brigadier or leave the poor woman to her fate.

"Kali" shouted the High Priestess, "accept your newest followers!" as she lit the pyre. Mr. Fogg turned to the Brigadier, his mind made up. "Brigadier" he said, picking up his cane, "what you are about to see must never be reported to the authorities in London, do you understand?"

"What are you on about?" the Brigadier asked

Mr. Fogg raised his cane into the air and said "For the honour..." but was stopped mid sentence by the Brigadier pointing at the pyre. He turned round and saw a figure rise from the pyre, shrouded in white. The figure caused panic amongst the followers as it picked up the prone form of the woman and floated down from the pyre and travelled across the now deserted courtyard and towards Mr. Fogg and the Brigadier. When it got to them, the figure materalised by throwing off a sheet and saying "Who's the hero now?"

"Passepartout" gasped Mr. Fogg and with his and the Brigadier's help lifted the woman onto the elephant and escaped in the early morning light.

[CelticMuscle]

As the young woman slowly regained conciousness, Mr. Fogg smiled gently.

"It's all right" he said, "you're on the train heading towards Calcutta. Those people who were going to kill you won't harm you again!"

The woman murmured "Thank you" before blacking out.

***

The train pulled into Benares station and Brigadier Cromarty stepped onto the platform.

"Good luck with your journey, Mr. Fogg!" he said and saluted. Mr. Fogg stood to attention and returned the salute as the train pulled away. He smiled and then went back to the carriage where the young woman was back in the land of the living and eating like a horse. She thanked her rescuers again and introduced herself as Princess Auoda (a title she gained when she married the rajah who had died putting her in the position of suttee). As she remembered the events of 48 hours previously she shuddered and Passepartout took his jacket off and placed it on her shoulders. She thanked him for his gift and then yawned and fell asleep.

***

"Princess" said a gentle voice, "we're arrived!"

Mr. Fogg roused the Princess from her sleep as the train arrived in Calcutta station. Gathering their bags, the trio left the station and were just about to head for the docks to catch the ship to Singapore when Mr. Fogg was tapped on the shoulder. He turned around and was greeted by a policeman who asked him to confirm his name and the name of his travelling companions. This he did and was promptly arrested as was Passepartout.

"Merde!" breathed Passepartout under his breath which recieved a sharp thwack on the wrist by Mr. Fogg as he was led into the carriage. "May my travelling companion attend as a concerned friend?" he asked. The policeman consented and the Princess entered into the carriage.

As they travelled to the police station, Passepartout whispered into Mr. Fogg's ear "We need the Captain, non?" which earned a "We are citizens of England, we respect English justice even when it is wrong!" from Mr. Fogg who then apologised to the Princess for the outburst.

***

"All rise for the honourable Justice Obabiah"

The judge overseeing the case entered the room and everyone stood and sat down when told. He picked up the case notes and declared "These are not my glasses!" at which point he changed them for the clerk's and then read out the charges.

"Mr. Phileas Fogg is hereby charged that on October 20th 1872, you did hereby allow your manservant to create sacrelige. Monsieur Jean Passepartout, you are hereby charged that on October 20th 1872 you did perform an act of sacrelige. How do you plead?"

"NOT GUILTY" came the echoing response.

"Please bring in the witnesses for the prosecuction" announced the judge and three holy men entered the court room carrying a shoe

"That's my shoe!" shouted Passepartout

"Your Honour" said Mr. Fogg, standing, "I wish to change my plea and that of my manservant to guilty and beg the court's permission to ask the witnesses a question"

"You may" said the Judge.

"I would like to know what the witnesses intended to do to my friend here" and gestured for the Princess to stand.

"Yes, you were torturing this poor woman!? shouted Passepartout

"Order, Order in the court" shouted the Judge

"Yes, at the pagoda of Pillaji, where they were on the point of burning their victim" Mr. Fogg added. The judge looked at the defendant with a look of confusion.

"Pillaji? These holymen have come from Bombay!" the judge replied

"Your Honour" said Mr. Fogg, "we wish to post bail having accepted our guilt and are willing to pay ?2,000"

"Agreed" said the judge, banging his gavel

***

On board the Rangoon sailing towards Singapore, Passepartout was running around the deck glad to have both his shoes. Mr. Fogg and the Princess were also on deck, walking slowly enjoying the sun setting in the west. Mr. Fogg turned to the Princess and said "Princess, I feel that destiny has placed you by my side and I hope that destiny will enable me to express my true feelings in time!"

[CelticMuscle]

Mr. Fogg was in a quandary. The Princess's relatives in Singapore had moved to Hong Kong and then to the Netherlands and whilst he had no quarms about travelling to Europe with her, he knew that if anything happened on the way he would have to tell her his secret. The idea was still troubling him as they crossed the American plains in the state of Nebraska and were not helped by the presence of Colonel Proctor (who had challenged him to a duel in San Francisco) and was now standing back to back with Mr. Fogg in the empty carriage of the train.

The guard stood between them and issued the instructions. "Gentlemen" he said, "you will walk ten paces, turn then fire. Walk!" and with that he ducked as the two gentlemen reached the ends of the carriage. Just as they were about to fire a gunshot rang out and hit part of the carriage, closely followed by hollering. The train was under attack by Sioux Indians.

Hearing the rapid shooting Passepartout and the Princess entered the carriage and crawled along the floor. Mr. Fogg, also on the floor gestured for his manservant to follow him and asked the Colonel to look after the Princess. Once outside at the end of the train, they could see the problem. Hundreds of Indians all bearing down on the train. Mr. Fogg grabbed his cane and held it aloft. Passepartout gasped as Mr. Fogg changed into Captain England and asked what he could do.

"Stand still" came the reply, "and hold on to something. This may hurt" as he lowered the cane and aimed it at Passepartout.

Passepartout screamed as the power engulfed him completely. He could feel himself growing taller and stronger. The jacket he was wearing was changing into a uniform not that dissimilar to his master's but coloured with the French tricolore. The power suddenly left him and he gasped for breath. "Now then, Lieutenant France" said his master, "Stop this train!". Passepartout saluted and jumped onto the roof of the train and ran to the engine.

Once there he found both the engineer and fireman out cold and an Indian at the controls. He decked the Indian (causing him to fall out of the engine) and then tried to find the brakes. Not finding any he decided that the next best thing would to be seperate the engine from the train. He located the coupling and looked at his arms. His brain tried to comprehend how strong he was but a gunshot just above his head brought him back to reality and he grabbed the coupling and pulled with all his might.

Inside the train, Captain England was dealing with any Indians inside the train by throwing them back outside. Suddenly there was a jolt and slowly but surely the train started to slow down. Moments later it came to a halt and was followed by a sound that Colonel Proctor knew by heart. A Cavalary charge.

"The good old American Cavalry. Go get ?em boys!" he yelled, taking off his hat and swirling it around.

***

Thirty minutes later, Mr. Fogg rejoined his travelling companion and spoke to Captain Dennis Mason, commanding officer at Fort Kearney where the train had rolled into. Captain Mason saluted and asked if Captain England was still on board.

"He's probably gone to help another Englishman in distress" Mr. Fogg said. Just then Colonel Proctor came dashing into the carriage. He was holding a piece of cloth that Mr. Fogg instantly recognised. It was a section of red, white and blue. The uniform of Lieutenant France. His manservant was lost in the American desert.

[CelticMuscle]

"Oooooh, my head!"

Lieutenant France slowly opened his eyes and groaned as the setting sun faced him. He tried to get up but found he couldn't move. Craning his neck, he gasped as he found the reason why. He was tied to four small pieces of wood stuck into the ground and moreover he was naked. Lying back, his thoughts instantly turned to his master. Where was he? Had the combined efforts of Lieutenant France and Captain England prevented the train being attacked by Indians. No sooner had he thought this, than a shadow appeared over him. He looked towards the sun and gasped as an American Indian towered over him, machete in his hand

***

"But Phileas you..."

The pleas of the Princess were hushed by the Englishman as he mounted his horse. "Colonel" he said, addressing the American, "you are to ensure that this woman is kept safe". Proctor saluted and then Mr. Fogg turned his attention to Captain Mason and the soldiers who had gathered to find his manservant. "$500 per person when he find him and an extra $1,000 to the first one to do so!" and with that he geed his horse and rode off towards the desert. Although on the outside, he was still the same Englishman who never seemed to be bothered about anything, inside he was worried sick about his manservant and hoped he was still alive

***

Lieutenant France was involved in a battle for his life. The American Indian had cut his bounds with the machete but as Lieutenant France was thanking him, he took off his loincloth and launched himself at the Lieutenant. They'd been wrestling for the best part of half an hour and Lieutenant France could feel his strength fading whilst the American Indian seemed to be getting stronger and stronger.

"Must scalp white man" the American Indian grunted on several occasions, "must appease metal gods who kill braves!"

Lieutenant France realised that he was talking about the trains and knew that if he couldn't beat this man through brute force maybe he could beat him with sheer brilliance. That was, of course, he managed to survive.

***

"Mr. Fogg" said Captain Mason, "we've been searching for the best part of three hours. The temperatures already well below freezing and if it snows, I cannot promise that my men will follow you any more!"

Mr. Fogg brought his horse to a stop and address the Captain.

"Sir" he said, "that man is more than my manservant, I consider him to be brother to me. When President Lincoln gave his address at Gettysburg was he talking to a nation happy with it's lot. No, he wasn't. When it comes to my manservant I am of the same opinion!"

"But Mr. Fogg" continued the Captain, "you'd need to be able to fly to scour this desert with any chance of finding anyone and have eyes like a hawk!"

Mr. Fogg smiled as he took his cane out of the saddlebag, "Well, what a good thing I can eh?" he said as he held it aloft

***

Lieutenant France and the American Indian collapsed in each other's arms. Their hearts were pounding like drums, they were breathing hard and both covered in sweat but still the American Indian refused to give up. He went to punch Lieutenant France in the stomach but his aim was wide and he collaped onto the ground panting. Lieutenant France, too collapsed on the ground and gasped as he blacked out closely followed by the American Indian.

Slowly, but surely, snow started to fall out of the sky and soon the whole desert floor was covered with snow covering any sign of the two combantants still naked and now at risk of hypothermia as the wind picked up and created a snowstorm.

***

"Woohooh!" shouted Captain Mason, "if I had know that flying was this exciting I would have tried it years ago!"

"Concentrate on your task!" said Captain England to his passenger as he flew over the desert looking for his manservant.

Despite the intense wind and snow, the two Captains managed to scour the whole desert and just as the sun was starting to rise, Captain Mason spotted something that seemed out of place. Captain England landed and the two men rushed to the location.

"It looks like a fresh burial" said Captain Mason, "and yet something looks wrong!"

They dug away at the snow and gasped as they found Lieutenant France and the American Indian lying on top of each other naked and showing the first signs of frostbite. Captain Mason turned to Captain England. "These men need to be warmed up slowly but quickly!" he said dragging the two men into the open. Captain England considered his choices and after a while asked Captain Mason if he considered himself a man of the world. "Why do you ask?" he asked. "This is why" came the reply as Captain England undressed, closed his eyes and started to rub.

***

"Who, What, Where????"

Lieutenant France woke with a start to see Captain England screaming as a torrent of white liquid covered the American Indian from head to toe. He was helped to his feet by Captain Mason who explained that he had been brought back from the brink thanks to the Captain's "internal heat source". Just then Captain England gasped and stepped back and was promptly hugged by his Lieutenant. In the time that it took him to get dressed and to provide Lieutenant France with a suitable change of clothes, the American Indian woke up. He gasped as he saw Captain England and bowed.

"Fire Tribe salute man of England" he said, "Fire Tribe worship!". He got up and walked over to his loincloth and showed them a tablet showing a very muscular man, wearing an English flag holding a rock over his head. Captain England scratched his head as to which it meant but was reminded that they had a train to catch.

***

That evening Phileas Fogg, his manservant Passepartout and the Princess waved goodbye to Captain Mason and Colonel Proctor (who had decided to remain at Fort Kearney in order to report on what had happened). A few moments later, the Princess was asleep, allowing Mr. Fogg and his manservant to speak to each other candidly.

"Sir" said Passepartout

"Passepartout" said Mr. Fogg at the same time.

They looked at each other and hugged. "My master!" said Passepartout, "who risked his life and his journey to rescue me!"

"As would any other Englishman" came the reply as the train travelled onwards towards New York.

[ts1976]

Fun story! Would you say it takes place in the Wold Newton Universe?

[CelticMuscle]

Originally Posted by ts1976

Fun story! Would you say it takes place in the Wold Newton Universe?

Not really, if you read Part Two carefully, you will see that it is set in the Southam Universe!

[paarke]

Originally Posted by CelticMuscle

Not really, if you read Part Two carefully, you will see that it is set in the Southam Universe!

Since I come from Southam in Warwickshire I feel compelled to point out, as its residents always do, that Southam is actually a town. It was granted a charter to hold a market in 1227, and thus became a market town at that time.

[ts1976]

Originally Posted by CelticMuscle

Not really, if you read Part Two carefully, you will see that it is set in the Southam Universe!

Yes, I got that. I was just wondering if you'd been inspired by Philip Jos? Farmer's concepts.

[CelticMuscle]

Originally Posted by ts1976

Yes, I got that. I was just wondering if you'd been inspired by Philip Jos? Farmer's concepts.

Just a little bit, yes

[CelticMuscle]

Day 80, 11.30am and Mr. Fogg, Passepartout and the Princess all stepped off the remains of the Henrietta (having purchased it from Captain Speedy in order to burn the ship to provide fuel) onto the docks in Liverpool Harbour, but no sooner had they done so that someone tapped Mr. Fogg on the shoulder. He turned round and was greeted by a short person wearing a very official uniform.

"Are you Mr. Phileas Fogg?" he asked.

"I am" came the reply

"You are under arrest!" announced the uniformed official and slapped a pair of handcuffs around Mr. Fogg's wrists

***

"MERDE!" shouted Passepartout at no one in particular as he kicked the wall of the cell both he and Mr. Fogg were in. It was his own fault, he had jumped in to save his master and been arrested to for "obstructing the law" and was in the same boat as his master. Annoyed, he kicked the wall again, stomped back to his bench and sat down heavily.

"There is nothing we can do" said his master's voice from above him, "I am sure this is all some dreadful mistake and that we will be released long before the train to London leaves"

Passepartout held his head in his hands. If only he'd not been lost in the American desert, if only he'd been able to defeat that Indian quicker. If only...and then he stopped. He jumped off his bench and climbed the ladder to his master's bunk.

"Monsieur" he asked, causing his master to lose his place in that morning's Times, "is this not a time for Captain England to emerge?"

"Most certainly not!" said Mr. Fogg, "I have been duly arrested by an officer of the law and it is that law that Captain England defends" and with that he returned to his paper.

Passepartout jumped down and growled. He turned his anger to the bars in the window and their cell and quite forgetting his place, he grabbed them and tried to pull them apart.

After several minutes of growling, grunting, panting and several statements that caused Mr. Fogg to chastise him, Passepartout collapsed to the ground breathing hard. He'd not even been able to prise the bars an inch wider.

At that moment, several doors were opened and the offical looking gentleman followed by the Princess came to the cell door and started unlocking it.

"I am most dreadfully sorry, sir" he said, opening the door, "but the lithograph was almost identical!"

Mr. Fogg peered over his paper at the person. He calmly folded his paper, climbed down the ladder and addressed him.

"Am I to understand, therefore" he said, "that I am a free man and that the allegations that I robbed the Bank of England on September 29th of this year are completely false?"

"Indeed, they are, Mr. Fogg" replied the man, "and may I say on behalf of Her Majesty's police how desperately sorry..."

The man never completed his sentence as two fists, one English and one French punched him in the stomach at the same time. As he fell to the ground, Mr. Fogg and Passepartout left their cell and Mr. Fogg hugged the woman who it was clear he now loved. Just as he did, a clock chimed two.

"Less than seven hours to get to London in" exclaimed Mr. Fogg and leading his party made a mad dash outside and hailed a cab to take them to the station.

[CelticMuscle]

A very sombre looking Phileas Fogg entered his bedroom at 7 Saville Row on the evening of December 21st 1872. He closed the door behind him, pulled out the chair from his writing desk, switched on the gas lamp and started to write

9.30pm December 21st 1872: Well, that's it then! I am a ruined man. All I have left is ?10 and that's not even for me. Tomorrow morning I will fulfill my promise to Aouda and arrange for her to spend Christmas with her relations in the Netherlands, I assume that catching a train on the 22nd to Folkestone should allow her plenty of time to catch a boat and with with them by the 23rd. As for myself, well, I shall have to dismiss Passepartout for starters and then sell this old place and live away from London (sighs). It's a shame really, I've lived in this house for, oh, ages now and cannot imagine living anywhere else but those are the facts as they say.

11.00pm December 21st 1872: That's a list of everything I own that can be sold. The house should be worth about three, maybe four thousand pounds. The various items worth another thousand on top of that take away the various taxes that will be applied and I am looking at just under four thousand pounds. Quite a climbdown from twenty thousand I admit, but I am sure that I will be able to manage on my own. Ooh, I need to answer the call of nature. I wonder if I can use the main bathroom or not. Hold on, there's someone outside the door. A little undisciplined I know but spy through the keyhole and see who it is. Good grief, it's Passepartout pacing to and fro outside. He must have heard me say that I was going to have to dismiss him and is now worrying about where he will go next. Let me go to my bathroom then first and then I'll consider his employment.

12.00am December 22nd 1872: Ah, the chimes of Big Ben. That is one thing I will miss when I move. That chime pattern has been reassuringly audible every day, whether it's been a blazing hot summer day, a cold snowy winter morning or like today fairly non descript. (chuckles) To think, Lord Albermarle thought I would make a good MP one day. I doubt that severely, even more now. Now, what to do about Passepartout. I mean, I know he is only a manservant, but think of all the things he has done whilst travelling the world. Not only did he rescue the Princess (without whom would have seen her killed), but he also saved the occupants of that train from harm in Nebraska. And what about me as well? I go off with that detachment of soldiers from Fort Kearney to rescue him without any thought of my own personal schedule. He's more than a manservant to me, he is my personal friend. So don't you worry Passepartout, I shall not dismiss you from my service, you can still butler for me in my new house. And besides, where would my Captain be without his Lieutenant?

2.00am December 22nd 1872: I knew it was a good idea to buy a copy of that listings magazine for country properties, now let's see what we can find for about three thousand or so. Mmm, well that rules out London and the South of England. Warwickshire is also a little steep and to be honest I can't see myself settling into Yorkshire either. Ah, there's an idea, the Welsh marches. Gungrog Hall near the town of Welshpool seems big enough, three floors, large basement, oh dear, four thousand pounds, too much. What about, oh, these Welsh name are a terrible pain to pronounce. Llan ech e ron or however that is supposed to sound. Two thousand, five hundred sounds promising. Oh, that's to rent only for the summer. That's no good either. (yawns) Oh goodness, I am tired. Well considering that I've not slept since waking up as we were docking in Liverpool yesterday morning is that any suprise. Suppose I ought to get ready for bed.

3.00am December 22nd 1872: And this bed is another thing I will miss as well. And yet, I cannot help but wonder if I should dismiss all these ideas about moving and just struggle on as best I can. Perhaps all I need is a good sleep and the answers will prevail themselves tomorrow.

That night, Phileas Fogg's sleep was troubled. He would dream that he was standing in a courtroom (as Captain England) and he was found guility of not using his powers to help him win his bet (despite Mr. Fogg's firm protestations that that would have been cheating). The sentence was carried out by the biggest man Mr. Fogg had ever seen in his life, a good nine feet tall and even by Captain England's standards muscled as anything. He took the cane that Mr. Fogg was holding and snapped it across his knee and threw it to the floor. As it hit the floor the top opened and out rolled a piece of rock that was glowing green before fading to grey. The source of Captain England's powers were lost to the world.

Mr. Fogg woke up sweating profusely. He staggered to the balcony of his room and breathed deeply as the cool night winds blew over London. At the corner of his bed was his cane and he picked it up, opened the top and heaved a sigh of relief as the green rock was still in place, glowing as it had done when he was first given it just before leaving home for college. He closed the top and quietly (so as not to disturb either the Princess or his manservant) went into the garden where he held the cane aloft. "For the honour of England" he yelled, transforming into Captain England and travelled across London making sure that if this was to his last day as a hero, he would do his best to put England right.

[CelticMuscle]

"Time to get up, monsieur"

Passepartout's knocks on his master's door were not being greeted with any form of response. Admitedly, the sun was just setting over London on December 22nd 1872 and all of the residents had been fast asleep for the best part of fourteen hours but the lack of reponse from his master was very concerning for Passepartout. He put the tray down that contained his master's meal (he didn't know whether to call it breakfast, lunch or dinner) stepped back from the doors and charged them. The doors flung open and Passepartout landed right in the middle of Mr. Fogg's bed. Recovering he made a discovery. The bed was pristinely made and Mr. Fogg's day clothes were nowhere to be seen.

The next thirty minutes were a blur as both Passepartout and the Princess searched 7 Saville Row from top to bottom. It was only by chance that Passepartout opened the door to the small garden that he found Mr. Fogg gently tending to some plants. Passepartout ran over to him and hugged him, a reponse that was greeted by a friendly smile from his master and a short while later, Mr. Fogg and his manservant were deep in conversation with the Princess sitting near them. They looked at each other, nodded and Mr. Fogg spoke.

"Madam, will you pardon me for bringing you to England? 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" came the reply, "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" said Mr. Fogg, pacing the room "and your safety could only be assured by bringing you to such a distance that your persecutors could not take you."

The Princess stood up and turned her back on him

"So, Mr. Fogg, not content with rescuing me from a terrible death, you thought yourself bound to secure my comfort in a foreign land?"

"Yes, madam" replied Mr. Fogg, "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?", the Princess asked still facing away from her rescuer.

"As for me, madam, I have need of nothing." he replied

"But how do you look upon the fate, sir, which awaits you?"

"As I am in the habit of doing." came the reply

"At least, want should not overtake a man like you. Your friends--"

"I have no friends, madam." insisted Mr. Fogg

Passepartout pulled on Mr. Fogg's jacket and whispered "You still have me, monsieur"

"Your relatives--"

The Princess's question seemed to phase Mr. Fogg for a moment and Passepartout was convinced he saw a tear trickle down Mr. Fogg's face.

"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 grief?s. They say, though, that misery itself, shared by two sympathetic souls, may be borne with patience."

"They say so, madam."

The Princess turned around and directed her next question straight to Mr. Fogg's face

"Mr. Fogg, do you wish at once a kinswoman and friend? Will you have me for your wife?"

Passepartout gasped. At no point during the journey had Mr. Fogg shown any interest in the Princess bar getting her to safety. He looked at Mr. Fogg who bowed his head solemnly, then raised it and declared "I love you! Yes, by all that is holiest, I love you, and I am entirely yours!" and with that he picked up the Princess and spun her around like a top. Passepartout congratulated the happy couple and was dispatched to inform the Rev. Wilson of their marriage plans. Just as he was about leave the house, Mr. Fogg asked why he wasn't flying.

"Flying monsieur?" asked Passepartout.

Mr. Fogg smiled and said to his intended, "My first gift to you, my bride to be, is the revealation of a secret that is twenty years old!". He raised his cane and shouted "For the honour of England" transforming into Captain England and then aimed the cane at his manservant transforming him into Lieutenant France and ordering him to "fly like the wind!". An order quickly obeyed.

[CelticMuscle]

The Rev. Wilson was feeling very tired. It had a very long day and visiting his parishioners was very time consuming, but as many of them were infirm, his visit was the only person they saw for many a day and any joy he could bring into their lives was his gift to give. As he climbed out of the hansom cab, he turned round and came face to chest with someone sporting a French flag. He stepped back and asked who he was addressing:

"I am Lieutenant France" came the reply as the stranger spread his chest out, "and I serve Captain England. He has asked me to come to you to advise you that Mr. Phileas Fogg intends to marry!"

The Reverend started to smile, then chuckle and then burst out laughing. He put an arm around the Lieutenant's ample shoulder and still sniggering said "So, the confirmed bachelor wishes to marry eh? I'll have to take him off my list of umarried men in my parish. So what date does he have in mind then?"

"Tomorrow" came the reply, "at a time of your choosing"

The Reverend took out a diary and checked the following day. "Sorry" he said, "I'm rather busy then!"

"But Mr. Fogg insists on marrying tomorrow, Monday December 23rd!" said the Lieutenant.

"He can insist all he wants" replied the Reverend, "but he must know that Sunday is my busiest day of the week!"

"No" said the Lieutenant, "tomorrow is Monday!"

"It may be Monday where you come from" said the Reverend, "but here in England, tomorrow is Sunday. Tell you what" he added, "here's my private telephone number. Ask him to call me when he figures out what day of the week it is!" and with that wrote down Westminster 123 and handed it to the Lieutenant. But he had disappeared.

***

7 Saville Row was a building without emotion, but if it had been a person, it would be screaming in agony as Lieutenant France crashed through the locked front door seeking Captain England. His only clue was the sound of estatic screaming from upstairs. He ran up the stairs and burst through the doors of his master's bedroom to find Captain England naked and lifting the Princess over his head bellowing as he did so.

"FIVE THOUSAND!" screamed the Captain as he lowered the Princess to the bed and started to show off his physique. "And each of these muscles" he panted, "will be dedicated to you my dear!"

Lieutenant France was by now hopping around as if desperate to relieve himself. When he was allowed to speak, he could only speak in gasps.

"Wedding, tomorrow, not possible" he gasped, his chest heaving underneath his uniform, "tomorrow, Sunday not Monday!"

Captain England stopped in mid pose. "Tomorrow's Sunday?" he asked. His Lieutenant nodded and the Captain was suddenly struck by something. He rushed downstairs to the clock in the hallway closely followed by the Lieutenant and the Princess. "Did you set this clock by your watch?" he asked Lieutenant France. The Lieutenant nodded. "And did you at any point change your clock to show the time in the countries we were in?". His question was answered by a shaking head.

Captain England listened for the chimes of Big Ben as they struck half past eight as did every clock in the house all set by Lieutenant France's watch and a realisation hit him.

"It's the 21st today!" he screamed, "we came back a day early!"

He ran upstairs, grabbed his cane, ran down and thumped it on the floor. Both Captain England and Lieutenant France glowed brightly and were replaced by Phileas Fogg and his manservant who carried the Princess out of the house as they ran like never before.

***

Every member of the Reform Club gazed at the club clock as it ticked down to 8.45pm on December 21st 1872. When the clock struck, eighty days would have elapsed since Phileas Fogg left to start his journey and when it did, Phileas would have to arrive or forfeit the ?20,000 lodged in the account he held at Baring's. As the minute hand moved to 44 minutes past, the entire club came to a halt and counted the seconds.

At the fortieth second, nothing. At the fiftieth, still nothing. At the fifty-fifth, a loud cry was heard in the street, followed by applause, hurrahs, and some fierce growls.

The players rose from their seats.

At the fifty-seventh second the door of the saloon opened; and the pendulum had not beat the sixtieth second when Phileas Fogg appeared, followed by an excited crowd who had forced their way through the club doors, and in his calm voice, said, “Here I am, gentlemen!” closely followed by his manservant.

"Good Lord!" said Lord Albermarle, the club president, "He's done it!"

***

That evening, Mr. Fogg, as tranquil and phlegmatic as ever, said to the Princess “Is our marriage still agreeable to you?”

“Mr. Fogg,” replied she, “it is for me to ask that question. You were ruined, but now you are rich again.”

“Pardon me, madam; my fortune belongs to you. If you had not suggested our marriage, my servant would not have gone to the Reverend Samuel Wilson’s, I should not have been apprised of my error, and—” but the sentence was unfinished as the Princess wrapped herself around Mr. Fogg

“Dear Mr. Fogg!” said the young woman.

“Dear Aouda!” replied Phileas Fogg.

***

"And here you are" said Passepartout, serving tea to celebrate the end of his master's story, "six months later and still a married man!"

Mr. Fogg chuckled, "not to mention still an active superhero!"

As he spoke, there was a knock at the door and a letter popped through the letterbox. Passepartout delivered it to his master who read the contents with interest.

"Fancy a trip to Iceland?" he asked

"Iceland?" replied his manservant

"Yes" came the reply, "and from the looks of this picture I can see a new member of the corps" and so saying presented his manservant with a picture of Hans, a friend of Professor Lidenbrock of Hamburg University and a native of Iceland.

"Captain England, Lieutenant France and Corporal Iceland!" chuckled his manservant eager to challenge the muscled Icelander

http://storage.canalblog.com/16/80/273216/33499191.jpg

The End