The carriage stopped in front of a modest-looking courthouse.
Mr. Fogg, Passepartout, and Aouda were taken into a room with barred windows.
"You will appear before Judge Obadiah at half past eight," said the policeman.
After the policeman had left them and closed the door, Passepartout fell into a chair and exclaimed, "Why are we prisoners?"
Trying to conceal her emotions, Aouda, said to Mr. Fogg, "Sir, you must leave me to my fate!
You have been arrested because of me—because you saved me!"
Phileas Fogg explained that this was impossible.
It was unlikely that he would be arrested for having prevented a human sacrifice.
He would not, in any event, abandon Aouda but would escort her to Hong Kong.
"But the steamer leaves at noon!" observed Passepartout nervously.
"And we shall be on board by noon," replied Fogg.
He said it so positively that Passepartout couldn't help but be reassured.
At half past eight, the door opened.
The policeman reappeared and instructed them to follow.
He led them to a courtroom. Mr. Fogg and his two companions entered and took their places at a desk opposite the judge.
Passepartout was getting more nervous. On the clock over the judge's head, the hands seemed to be going around very, very quickly.
Judge Obadiah was a fat, round man who wore an old, white wig.
"The first case, Mr. Phileas Fogg," he said.
"I am here," replied Mr. Fogg.
"Passepartout?" asked the judge.
"Present," responded Passepartout.
"Good," said the judge. "Authorities have been searching for you for two days on the train from Bombay."
A door swung open, and three Indian priests entered.
The priests took their places in front of the judge, and the clerk of the court stood.
In a loud voice, he read a complaint of sacrilege against Phileas Fogg and his servant,
who were accused of having violated a place held sacred by the Brahmin religion.
"You hear the charge?" asked the judge.
"Yes, sir," replied Mr. Fogg, consulting his watch, "and I admit to it."
"You admit it?" asked the judge.
"Yes," said Fogg. "And I wish to hear these priests admit to what they were going to do at the pagoda."
The priests looked at each other, not seeming to understand what he was saying.
"At the pagoda of Pillaji," said Passepartout. "They were on the point of burning their victim."
The judge stared with astonishment, and the priests were shocked.
"What victim?" asked the judge. "We are talking about the pagoda on Malabar Hill, in Bombay."
The judge placed a pair of shoes on his desk.
"My shoes!" cried Passepartout in surprise.
In all the confusion since they had left Bombay, Phileas Fogg and his servant had quite forgotten the affair over Passepartout's shoes.
They also did not notice the detective, Fix, watching from a corner of the courtroom.
Fix had foreseen how Passepartout's misadventure could detain Mr. Fogg in Calcutta.
He had gone to talk with the priests on Malabar Hill, promised them a large sum of money, and sent them to Calcutta on the next train.
The priests had arrived ahead of Mr. Fogg and Passepartout, however, and Fix had been feverishly watching the train station in Calcutta.
When Fix had seen Mr. Fogg and Passepartout disembark that morning, he had immediately found a policeman to arrest the men.
Judge Obadiah had heard Passepartout's outburst about his shoes and said, "The facts are admitted.
I condemn this man, Passepartout, to imprisonment for fifteen days and a fine of three hundred pounds.
I further condemn Mr. Fogg to a week's imprisonment and a fine of one hundred and fifty pounds."
Fix rubbed his hands with satisfaction.
If Phileas Fogg could be detained in Calcutta for a week, it would be enough time for the arrest warrant to arrive from London.
Phileas Fogg, as self-composed as ever, said, "I offer bail."
Fix's blood ran cold.
"You have that right," said the judge.
"I will pay it at once," said Mr. Fogg, taking a roll of banknotes from the carpetbag.
Bail was set at two thousand pounds, and Mr. Fogg handed the money to the clerk.
"This sum will be restored to you at the end of your sentence," said the judge. "Meanwhile you are liberated on bail."
"Come!" said Phileas Fogg to his servant.
He offered his arm to Aouda and they departed.
Fix followed them to the quay. His only hope was that Fogg would not be willing to leave the two thousand pounds behind him.
The steamer departing for Hong Kong was the Rangoon.
A flag flying from its mast signaled that it was about to depart.
Fix watched as Fogg and his companions got out of their carriage and pushed off in a boat for the steamer. Fix stamped his feet in disappointment.
"The rascal is off after all!" he said. "Two thousand pounds sacrificed!
I'll follow him to the end of the world if necessary.
But at the rate Fogg is going, the money he stole will soon be exhausted!"
That was a close one! Thank goodness Mr. Fogg was able to post bail.
But I must be careful. My mistakes are costing him so much money!
I couldn't help noticing that Judge Obadiah's wig and clothes seemed royal, like something a king would wear.
Interestingly, I learned that this costume does have links to royalty—French royalty!
In the sixteenth century, King Louis XIII, of France, began wearing a wig.
It didn't take long for all wealthy aristocrats to start wearing wigs too.
However, by the eighteenth century, wigs became less and less popular.
Today in England lawyers and judges are the only people who still wear them.
And that's fine with me. I think I look perfect like this anyway!