斐利亚·福克与路路通主仆相认
1872年，白林敦花园坊塞维尔街七号——谢里登于1814年逝世于此——住着一位斐利亚·福克先生。这位绅士是改良俱乐部里最引人注目、却也最寡言少语的会员。他总是一副与世无争的模样，是个谜一般的人物。世人除知他举止优雅、深谙世故外，别无更多了解。有人说他像拜伦——至少那头型如拜伦一般；但他长着络腮胡须，性情平和，简直能活上千年而青春不衰。
毫无疑问他是英国人，但福克是否伦敦土著却值得商榷。证券交易所、银行、"金融城"的账房里从不见他身影；伦敦码头从未停泊过属于他的船只；他未曾担任公职；律师协会的四大法学院——无论内殿、中殿、林肯还是格雷——皆无他入册记录；大法官法庭、财政部法庭、女王座法庭乃至宗教法庭，都不曾响起他的声音。他断然不是工厂主，亦非商人或乡绅。科学学会与学术团体对他闻所未闻，皇家学会、伦敦学会、工匠协会、文理学会的睿智讨论，他从未参与。事实上，伦敦形形色色的社团——从和声学会到以消灭害虫为宗旨的昆虫学会——无一与他有关。
福克只属于改良俱乐部，仅此而已。
他得以加入这所排外的俱乐部，缘由再简单不过：承蒙巴林兄弟举荐——他在该行拥有无限信用账户。他的支票向来见票即付，账户余额始终充裕。
福克富裕吗？毋庸置疑。但最了解他的人也无法想象他如何致富，而福克先生本人绝不会提供线索。他不挥霍，亦非吝啬：但凡知晓某处需要高贵的、有益的或慈悲的资助，他便悄然解囊，有时甚至匿名。简言之，他是世上最沉默寡言之人。他寡言少语，沉默的举止更添神秘。每日习惯尽在众人眼前，然其行事如出一辙，令好事者百思不解。
他周游过列国吗？极有可能，因无人比他更谙熟世界；即便最偏僻的角落，他似乎也了如指掌。俱乐部成员对失踪或下落不明的旅人提出千百种猜测时，他常以寥寥数语纠正谬误，指明真相，仿佛身怀第二视觉——日后事实往往印证他的预言。他必然踏遍四方，至少灵魂如此。
至少可以肯定，斐利亚·福克斯多年未曾离开伦敦。那些有幸与他略知一二的人宣称，无人自称在别处见过他。他唯一的消遣是读报与打惠斯特牌。这静默的游戏正合其天性，他常赢牌，但赢的钱从不归入私囊，而是作为慈善基金。福克先生并非为赢钱而打牌，而是为打牌而打牌。在他眼中，游戏是较量，是与困难搏斗，却是不动声色、不知疲倦的争斗，正中其下怀。
无人知晓福克有妻室或子女——这倒也寻常；亦无人知晓他有亲朋戚友——这便奇了。他独居塞维尔街的宅邸，无人能入内。只需一名仆役侍候。他早餐与晚餐俱在俱乐部中用，时间如数学般精确，同一房间，同一餐桌，从不与会员共食，更不携客同往；午夜整点归家，旋即就寝。改良俱乐部为受宠会员准备的舒适套间，他从未享用。二十四小时中，他在塞维尔街度过十小时，或睡眠，或梳洗。若要散步，必以固定步幅踱过马赛克镶嵌的大厅，或穹顶由二十根红色斑岩爱奥尼亚柱支撑、蓝色彩窗照明的环形回廊。用膳时，俱乐部的厨房、储藏室、酒窖与乳品间倾其所有，以最丰腴的食物铺陈桌面；身着燕尾服、足踏天鹅绒底鞋的肃穆侍者，用特制瓷器与最精美的亚麻餐巾奉上佳肴；已失传式样的俱乐部酒樽盛着雪利酒、波尔图酒与肉桂香红酒；饮料则以重价购自美国湖泊的冰块冰镇，沁人心脾。
若以此为怪异，亦须承认怪异之中自有妙处。
塞维尔街的宅邸，虽不奢华，却异常舒适。主人习惯素简，本不需多名仆役，但福克要求这位唯一的仆人近乎超人的机敏与准时。就在今日——十月二日——他解雇了詹姆斯·福斯特，因这倒霉鬼送来剃须水华氏八十四度而非八十六度。此刻他正等候新仆，后者应在十一时至十一时半之间抵达。
福克端坐于扶手椅中，双足并拢如阅兵场上的掷弹兵，双手搁膝，腰背挺直，头颅高昂；他正凝视着一架精巧的钟——它指示时、分、秒、日、月、年。按日常习惯，十一时半整，福克先生将离开塞维尔街，前往改良俱乐部。
此刻，斐利亚·福克所在的舒适房间响起叩门声，被解雇的仆人詹姆斯·福斯特走了进来。
"新来的仆人。"他说。
一名三十岁左右的青年上前鞠躬。
"你是法国人，我想，"福克问道，"名叫约翰？"
"让，若先生允许的话，"新来者回答，"让·路路通，这绰号跟定了我，因我天生擅长从一行跳槽到另一行。先生，我自认诚实，但实不相瞒，我干过许多行当：流浪歌手，马戏骑手——那时我像雷奥塔尔一样腾跃，像布隆丹一样走绳。后来为更好施展才能，当了体操教练；接着在巴黎担任消防队中士，参与过数次大火。五年前我离开法国，为体验家庭生活的甘美，来英国做了贴身男仆。如今失业，听说斐利亚·福克先生是联合王国最严谨、最安宁的绅士，便来投奔先生，希望能在此安享平静，连路路通之名也忘却。"
"路路通这名字正合我意，"福克先生应道，"有人向我推荐你，我听到的评价不错。你可知我的要求？"
"知道，先生。"
"好！现在几点？"
"十一点二十三分，"路路通从口袋深处掏出一只巨大的银表回应。
"你慢了。"福克先生道。
"请原谅，先生，不可能——"
"你慢了四分钟。无妨，指出错误即可。从此刻起——十月二日星期三，上午十一点二十九分——你正式进我门下做事。"
斐利亚·福克起身，左手取帽，以机械动作戴好，一言不发出了门。
路路通听见临街大门第一次关闭——他的新主人出去了。接着又是一声——前任詹姆斯·福斯特也离开了。塞维尔街的宅邸里，只剩路路通一人。
IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG AND PASSEPARTOUT ACCEPT EACH OTHER, THE ONE AS
MASTER, THE OTHER AS MAN
Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington
Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the
most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to
avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little
was known, except that he was a polished man of the world. People said
that he resembled Byron—at least that his head was Byronic; but he was
a bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without
growing old.
Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was
a Londoner. He was never seen on ’Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the
counting-rooms of the “City”; no ships ever came into London docks of
which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never been
entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or Lincoln’s
Inn, or Gray’s Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court of
Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen’s Bench, or the
Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he
a merchant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the
scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to take part
in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London
Institution, the Artisan’s Association, or the Institution of Arts and
Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies which
swarm in the English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the
Entomologists, founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious
insects.
Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.
The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club was simple
enough.
He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an open credit. His
cheques were regularly paid at sight from his account current, which
was always flush.
Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who knew him best could
not imagine how he had made his fortune, and Mr. Fogg was the last
person to whom to apply for the information. He was not lavish, nor, on
the contrary, avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money was needed
for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it quietly and
sometimes anonymously. He was, in short, the least communicative of
men. He talked very little, and seemed all the more mysterious for his
taciturn manner. His daily habits were quite open to observation; but
whatever he did was so exactly the same thing that he had always done
before, that the wits of the curious were fairly puzzled.
Had he travelled? It was likely, for no one seemed to know the world
more familiarly; there was no spot so secluded that he did not appear
to have an intimate acquaintance with it. He often corrected, with a
few clear words, the thousand conjectures advanced by members of the
club as to lost and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true
probabilities, and seeming as if gifted with a sort of second sight, so
often did events justify his predictions. He must have travelled
everywhere, at least in the spirit.
