mechanically to the carpet-bag, with its enormous treasure.
Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly uttered a cry of despair.
“What's the matter?” asked Mr. Fogg.
“Alas! In my hurry — I — I forgot — ”
“What?”
“To turn off the gas in my room!”
“Very well, young man,” returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; “it will burn — at your expense.”