It was seven in the morning when Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Passepartout setfoot upon the American continent, if this name can be given to thefloating quay upon which they disembarked. These quays, rising andfalling with the tide, thus facilitate the loading and unloading ofvessels. Alongside them were clippers of all sizes, steamers of allnationalities, and the steamboats, with several decks rising one abovethe other, which ply on the Sacramento and its tributaries. There werealso heaped up the products of a commerce which extends to Mexico,Chili, Peru, Brazil, Europe, Asia, and all the Pacific islands.

Passepartout, in his joy on reaching at last the American continent,thought he would manifest it by executing a perilous vault in finestyle; but, tumbling upon some worm-eaten planks, he fell through them.Put out of countenance by the manner in which he thus "set foot" uponthe New World, he uttered a loud cry, which so frightened theinnumerable cormorants and pelicans that are always perched upon thesemovable quays, that they flew noisily away.

Mr. Fogg, on reaching shore, proceeded to find out at what hour thefirst train left for New York, and learned that this was at six o'clockp.m.; he had, therefore, an entire day to spend in the Californiancapital. Taking a carriage at a charge of three dollars, he and Aoudaentered it, while Passepartout mounted the box beside the driver, andthey set out for the International Hotel.

From his exalted position Passepartout observed with much curiosity thewide streets, the low, evenly ranged houses, the Anglo-Saxon Gothicchurches, the great docks, the palatial wooden and brick warehouses,the numerous conveyances, omnibuses, horse-cars, and upon theside-walks, not only Americans and Europeans, but Chinese and Indians.Passepartout was surprised at all he saw. San Francisco was no longerthe legendary city of 1849--a city of banditti, assassins, andincendiaries, who had flocked hither in crowds in pursuit of plunder; aparadise of outlaws, where they gambled with gold-dust, a revolver inone hand and a bowie-knife in the other: it was now a great commercialemporium.

The lofty tower of its City Hall overlooked the whole panorama of thestreets and avenues, which cut each other at right-angles, and in themidst of which appeared pleasant, verdant squares, while beyondappeared the Chinese quarter, seemingly imported from the CelestialEmpire in a toy-box. Sombreros and red shirts and plumed Indians wererarely to be seen; but there were silk hats and black coats everywhereworn by a multitude of nervously active, gentlemanly-looking men. Someof the streets--especially Montgomery Street, which is to San Franciscowhat Regent Street is to London, the Boulevard des Italiens to Paris,and Broadway to New York--were lined with splendid and spaciousstores, which exposed in their windows the products of the entire world.

When Passepartout reached the International Hotel, it did not seem tohim as if he had left England at all.

The ground floor of the hotel was occupied by a large bar, a sort ofrestaurant freely open to all passers-by, who might partake of driedbeef, oyster soup, biscuits, and cheese, without taking out theirpurses. Payment was made only for the ale, porter, or sherry which wasdrunk. This seemed "very American" to Passepartout. The hotelrefreshment-rooms were comfortable, and Mr. Fogg and Aouda, installingthemselves at a table, were abundantly served on diminutive plates bynegroes of darkest hue.

After breakfast, Mr. Fogg, accompanied by Aouda, started for theEnglish consulate to have his passport visaed. As he was going out, hemet Passepartout, who asked him if it would not be well, before takingthe train, to purchase some dozens of Enfield rifles and Colt'srevolvers. He had been listening to stories of attacks upon the trainsby the Sioux and Pawnees. Mr. Fogg thought it a useless precaution,but told him to do as he thought best, and went on to the consulate.

He had not proceeded two hundred steps, however, when, "by the greatestchance in the world," he met Fix. The detective seemed wholly taken bysurprise. What! Had Mr. Fogg and himself crossed the Pacifictogether, and not met on the steamer! At least Fix felt honoured tobehold once more the gentleman to whom he owed so much, and, as hisbusiness recalled him to Europe, he should be delighted to continue thejourney in such pleasant company.

Mr. Fogg replied that the honour would be his; and the detective--whowas determined not to lose sight of him--begged permission to accompanythem in their walk about San Francisco--a request which Mr. Foggreadily granted.

They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where a great crowdwas collected; the side-walks, street, horsecar rails, the shop-doors,the windows of the houses, and even the roofs, were full of people.Men were going about carrying large posters, and flags and streamerswere floating in the wind; while loud cries were heard on every hand.

"Hurrah for Camerfield!"

"Hurrah for Mandiboy!"

It was a political meeting; at least so Fix conjectured, who said toMr. Fogg, "Perhaps we had better not mingle with the crowd. There maybe danger in it."

"Yes," returned Mr. Fogg; "and blows, even if they are political arestill blows."

Fix smiled at this remark; and, in order to be able to see withoutbeing jostled about, the party took up a position on the top of aflight of steps situated at the upper end of Montgomery Street.Opposite them, on the other side of the street, between a coal wharfand a petroleum warehouse, a large platform had been erected in theopen air, towards which the current of the crowd seemed to be directed.

For what purpose was this meeting? What was the occasion of thisexcited assemblage? Phileas Fogg could not imagine. Was it tonominate some high official--a governor or member of Congress? It wasnot improbable, so agitated was the multitude before them.

Just at this moment there was an unusual stir in the human mass. Allthe hands were raised in the air. Some, tightly closed, seemed todisappear suddenly in the midst of the cries--an energetic way, nodoubt, of casting a vote. The crowd swayed back, the banners and flagswavered, disappeared an instant, then reappeared in tatters. Theundulations of the human surge reached the steps, while all the headsfloundered on the surface like a sea agitated by a squall. Many of theblack hats disappeared, and the greater part of the crowd seemed tohave diminished in height.

"It is evidently a meeting," said Fix, "and its object must be anexciting one. I should not wonder if it were about the Alabama,despite the fact that that question is settled."

"Perhaps," replied Mr. Fogg, simply.

"At least, there are two champions in presence of each other, theHonourable Mr. Camerfield and the Honourable Mr. Mandiboy."

Aouda, leaning upon Mr. Fogg's arm, observed the tumultuous scene withsurprise, while Fix asked a man near him what the cause of it all was.Before the man could reply, a fresh agitation arose; hurrahs andexcited shouts were heard; the staffs of the banners began to be usedas offensive weapons; and fists flew about in every direction. Thumpswere exchanged from the tops of the carriages and omnibuses which hadbeen blocked up in the crowd. Boots and shoes went whirling throughthe air, and Mr. Fogg thought he even heard the crack of revolversmingling in the din, the rout approached the stairway, and flowed overthe lower step. One of the parties had evidently been repulsed; butthe mere lookers-on could not tell whether Mandiboy or Camerfield hadgained the upper hand.

"It would be prudent for us to retire," said Fix, who was anxious thatMr. Fogg should not receive any injury, at least until they got back toLondon. "If there is any question about England in all this, and wewere recognised, I fear it would go hard with us."

"An English subject--" began Mr. Fogg.

He did not finish his sentence; for a terrific hubbub now arose on theterrace behind the flight of steps where they stood, and there werefrantic shouts of, "Hurrah for Mandiboy! Hip, hip, hurrah!"

It was a band of voters coming to the rescue of their allies, andtaking the Camerfield forces in flank. Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix foundthemselves between two fires; it was too late to escape. The torrentof men, armed with loaded canes and sticks, was irresistible. PhileasFogg and Fix were roughly hustled in their attempts to protect theirfair companion; the former, as cool as ever, tried to defend himselfwith the weapons which nature has placed at the end of everyEnglishman's arm, but in vain. A big brawny fellow with a red beard,flushed face, and broad shoulders, who seemed to be the chief of theband, raised his clenched fist to strike Mr. Fogg, whom he would havegiven a crushing blow, had not Fix rushed in and received it in hisstead. An enormous bruise immediately made its appearance under thedetective's silk hat, which was completely smashed in.

"Yankee!" exclaimed Mr. Fogg, darting a contemptuous look at theruffian.

"Englishman!" returned the other. "We will meet again!"

"When you please."

"What is your name?"

"Phileas Fogg. And yours?"

"Colonel Stamp Proctor."

The human tide now swept by, after overturning Fix, who speedily gotupon his feet again, though with tattered clothes. Happily, he was notseriously hurt. His travelling overcoat was divided into two unequalparts, and his trousers resembled those of certain Indians, which fitless compactly than they are easy to put on. Aouda had escapedunharmed, and Fix alone bore marks of the fray in his black and bluebruise.

"Thanks," said Mr. Fogg to the detective, as soon as they were out ofthe crowd.

"No thanks are necessary," replied. Fix; "but let us go."

"Where?"

"To a tailor's."

Such a visit was, indeed, opportune. The clothing of both Mr. Fogg andFix was in rags, as if they had themselves been actively engaged in thecontest between Camerfield and Mandiboy. An hour after, they were oncemore suitably attired, and with Aouda returned to the InternationalHotel.

Passepartout was waiting for his master, armed with half a dozensix-barrelled revolvers. When he perceived Fix, he knit his brows; butAouda having, in a few words, told him of their adventure, hiscountenance resumed its placid expression. Fix evidently was no longeran enemy, but an ally; he was faithfully keeping his word.

Dinner over, the coach which was to convey the passengers and theirluggage to the station drew up to the door. As he was getting in, Mr.Fogg said to Fix, "You have not seen this Colonel Proctor again?"

"No."

"I will come back to America to find him," said Phileas Fogg calmly."It would not be right for an Englishman to permit himself to betreated in that way, without retaliating."

The detective smiled, but did not reply. It was clear that Mr. Foggwas one of those Englishmen who, while they do not tolerate duelling athome, fight abroad when their honour is attacked.

At a quarter before six the travellers reached the station, and foundthe train ready to depart. As he was about to enter it, Mr. Foggcalled a porter, and said to him: "My friend, was there not sometrouble to-day in San Francisco?"

"It was a political meeting, sir," replied the porter.

"But I thought there was a great deal of disturbance in the streets."

"It was only a meeting assembled for an election."

"The election of a general-in-chief, no doubt?" asked Mr. Fogg.

"No, sir; of a justice of the peace."

Phileas Fogg got into the train, which started off at full speed.