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In the distance, the lights of the stuck cargo vessel - Evergreen (?), Even Garden (?) - something similar - lit up the canal with their radiant glow. We stepped out onto the top deck of the ship. He won a hand of poker, drank some less-than-perfect cognac and laughed along with the crewmen as they made terrible jokes. I almost fell in love again with the faГ§ade he had created. He was brash, but charming, his sailor's ways tempered by a love of good jokes and a bright smile. I have no clue how he did it, but he charmed the boat's crew with an accent and character that was quite unlike his own.

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'I know how to clothe myself in the tones of another. 'Do not worry, Passepartout.' My master said, looking strangely intrigued by the turn of events. 'They will know something is amiss immediately if you speak, however.' I said, 'You do have something of a wealthy fellow's tone to your diction.' 'Shall we depart?' I asked, once my master had eaten and dressed. I had created it, it wore some of my clothes, and I was the only one who knew its secret. The stubble added to the effect, and I found myself strangely possessive over this apparition.

He wore it well, in some kind of perverse way. It was disarming to see my master dressed like a common man. To see Monsieur Fogg express emotion in such a way - he really must have been at the edge of his sanity. 'I am bored witless of this tiny room and its insignificant stack of reading material.' 'Clothe me like one of the working folk and we shall tour the ship.' Monsieur Fogg said, looking determined. 'Passepartout, I wish to partake in your daily activities.' 'Of course.' He had clearly made a decision. It was not a small steamship, and had many interesting nooks and crannies I occasionally found myself in. 'I discuss the matters of the day with the staff, find myself at the betting tables on occasion, and walk, sir. I took a moment to phrase my words carefully. Personal questions, though - from my master? An occasion as rare as the scenario we had found ourselves in. Though there were many sights off the side of the ship, they didn't change all that often.

My master liked the sights and delights of the grand locales we visited. Though he hardly voiced it, I could tell he was exasperated. 'What do you do with your days upon this accursed vessel?' However, when it came to my master, such thoughts were easy to grasp. It did not do to entrench oneself in fantasy all too fast. 'Yes, Monsieur?' I replied, withdrawing myself from my thoughts. I have seen much more dangers than my master with some stubble. It was a strange look on him, but not one that upset me. He was rather disheveled, a little bearded. 'Passepartout?' He did ask, staring at me, curiously. It was simple, a French omelette with an array of vegetables and piping hot coffee, and he looked at me, curiously, for a moment after I had presented the tray. On the morning of the third day I brought him his breakfast. I played poker with the boatsmen, discussed naval history with the captain, and even found myself cooking an omelette or two in the galley. Taking care of my master was only one of the tasks I found myself doing. There was plenty of food, enough for triple our journey, the sunsets across the starboard of the ship every dusk were glorious, and I had plenty to do. He - though he did not make it apparent in his face - was bored. He likes pausing in the moment, but not pausing in the journey.

Freshly brewed coffee in the morning, the smell of whisky and beard oil, well-trained experts and a good newspaper. To suffer the journey around the Cape of Good Hope would be certain death.ДЄnd though I was certain I could find us alternate transport if we did return to Port Said, I also didn't mind the pause. The ship could be cleared at any moment - or at least, that's what the captain of our mighty vessel, a roguish French lady called Olivia, said. A large ship, taking cargo across the great seas, had turned to its side and ground itself within the backs of the canal.

We had reached the halfway mark before it was discovered. I had hoped we'd make it there within a day's travel. In our five circumnavigations of the globe thus far Fogg and I had managed to skip it, and I'd heard suchВ wonders. I also did not wish to skip past Suez itself this time. Such an engineering marvel! - I'd wondered, to Fogg - such joys! Such ingenuity! In hindsight, perhaps we should have traversed onwards via balloon towards Amman, but I'd not been able to pass up the chance to travel down the Suez Canal via steamship.