hich case an
explanation the reverse of satisfactory to the detective must have
ensued. But the Frenchman did not appear, and, without doubt, was
still lying under the stupefying influence of the opium.

John Bunsby, master, at length gave the order to start, and the
Tankadere, taking the wind under her brigantine, foresail, and
standing-jib, bounded briskly forward over the waves.

Chapter XXI

IN WHICH THE MASTER OF THE "TANKADERE" RUNS GREAT RISK OF LOSING A
REWARD OF TWO HUNDRED POUNDS

This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture on a craft of
twenty tons, and at that season of the year. The Chinese seas are
usually boisterous, subject to terrible gales of wind, and especially
during the equinoxes; and it was now early November.

It would clearly have been to the master's advantage to carry his
passengers to Yokohama, since he was paid a certain sum per day; but he
would have been rash to attempt such a voyage, and it was imprudent
even to attempt to reach Shanghai. But John Bunsby believed in the
Tankadere, which rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps he was
not wrong.

Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels of Hong
Kong, and the Tankadere, impelled by favourable winds, conducted
herself admirably.

"I do not need, pilot," said Phileas Fogg, when they got into the open
sea, "to advise you to use all possible speed."

"Trust me, your honour. We are carrying all the sail the wind will let
us. The poles would add nothing, and are only used when we are going
into port."

"Its your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you."

Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wide apart, standing like a
sailor, gazed without staggering at the swelling waters. The young
woman, who was seated aft, was profoundly affected as she looked out
upon the ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she had
ventured in so frail a vessel. Above her head rustled the white sails,
which seemed like great white wings. The boat, carried forward by the
wind, seemed to be flying in the air.

Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, and her
insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon.
Clouds were rising from the east, and already overcast a part of the
heavens.

The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary in these
seas crowded with vessels bound landward; for collisions are not
uncommon occurrences, and, at the speed she