The pilot swore an angry oath; the reward of two hundred pounds was evidently on the point of escaping him.

He looked at Mr.
Fogg.

Mr.Fogg was perfectly tranquil; and yet his whole fortune was at this moment at stake.
At this moment, also, a long black funnel, crowned with wreaths of smoke, appeared on the edge of the waters.

It was the American steamer, leaving for Yokohama at the appointed time.
"Confound her!" cried John Bunsby, pushing back the rudder with a desperate jerk.
"Signal her!" said Phileas Fogg quietly.
A small brass cannon stood on the forward deck of the Tankadere, for making signals in the fogs.

It was loaded to the muzzle; but just as the pilot was about to apply a red-hot coal to the touchhole, Mr.Fogg said, "Hoist your flag!" The flag was run up at half-mast, and, this being the signal of distress, it was hoped that the American steamer, perceiving it, would change her course a little, so as to succour the pilot-boat.
"Fire!" said Mr.Fogg.