Fogg, in our struggling young nation,
we cannot yet afford to play
for the sake of a jolly good game.
The colonel has a gun.
He's playing to win, and so am I.
I, uh, think the seasoning may be a little strong for him.
Give him some milk, Hey Girl.
Pardon.
My master wishes to see you at once.
Smells very good.
Will you have a seat?
Please, monsieur, do not torture me.
My master can't wait.
There is not a minute to be lost.
A matter of life and death, hmm?
Voilą. Here.
Yeah, it's worth considering further.
Where is he?
Ah, right over there.
Mm-hmm.
Do I remind you of someone?
Good heavens, no.
You were recommended to me by the British Consulate
as being, on the whole, a trifle more trustworthy
than the majority of your fellow countrymen.
It is essential, for reasons
which cannot possibly concern you,
that I reach the township of Reno by tomorrow night at 7:00,
in order that I may meet the train which is to take me
to New York by 10:00 p.m., December, the 11th.
Well, you could have caught that train an hour ago here.
I was prevented from doing so by elements beyond my control.
There he is again.
He's found us.
Who is that?
A countryman of yours.
A Colonel Proctor by name.
He insisted on trying to challenge my master
to a duel.
Thus preventing you from catching your train?
We met on the Oakland ferry.
I took exception to certain unfortunate remarks
he made about my country.
He had the insolence to offer me choice of weapons.
Ever since, he's been following me around
with the persistence of a bloodhound.
It's rather amusing, really.
Well, I wonder if he was moved more by his honor as a patriot,
or by the sight of that cash in your carpetbag.
The important thing is to get me to Reno in time.
Can you do it?
With a certain amount of luck, it's possible.
It is now exactly 11 minutes after 11:00.
You're fast.
That is impossible.
You're exactly four minutes fast.
No matter.
To mention it is enough.
Tell me, how long will it take you
to get ready?
45 minutes.
Passepartout, you will arrange for the horses.
And keep an accurate account of all expenditures.
Oui, monsieur.
I shall go and lie down for 40 minutes.
And I'll see you in the livery stables, Mr., uh...
Paladin.
Oh, yes, Paladin, of course.
"Phileas Fogg, Esquire.
Reform Club, Pall Mall, London, West One."
Paladin.
It shows you have a decent respect for the classics.
I shan't inquire into your true name.
I beg your pardon?
I understand that nearly everyone
in this part of your country harbors a secret guilt
which if their true name were found out,
might expose them to the most severe reprisals.
Well, you are most considerate.
Yes.
Don't, uh, don't try to take advantage of it.
In the meantime,
your past is no concern of mine.
Good day, sir.
Well, would you mind telling me
what that was all about?
He made a bet with some other Englishman
that he could go around the world in 80 days.
Well, I suppose they figured
that if it could be accomplished,
an Englishman should be the first one to do it.
You will find Monsieur Fogg to be a very excellent master.
Firm but fair.
Indeed, the only difficulty is, uh...
Is what?
He is, of course, quite mad.
What is that?
Aouda.
Princess of Allahbad.
Saved by my master from her late husband's funeral pyre
at the most appalling risk
of death and torture to all of us.
Remind me to order a new timepiece, will you?
Oui, monsieur.
Fogg, nothing was said to me about a woman accompanying us
on this expedition.
You don't seems to realize what kind of an ordeal
we're about to undertake.
Is it her capacity for the ordeal
you underestimate, or your own?
Come, Aouda.
We'll make our way the best we can
without the aid of this cavalier.
Aouda.
Am I to understand you've set yourself against me?
That man is right.
There is no place on such a trip
for a weak woman.
But I am not a weak woman.
In Punjab, where I was raised,
a girl child who lacked the skill of a mountain goat
either broke her neck
or was sacrificed to Kali.
Hyah!
Princess Aouda, you only make me wonder.
Sir?
What other secrets the Punjab may have
to teach the West.
¶ ¶
We are still on time, Mr. Fogg.
Look at this.
It's the only one of its kind I've ever seen.
Like you.
This would be lovely in your hair.
Oh, but among my people, a flower worn in such a manner
has a definite meaning.
Which is?
It means that I-
that the woman-
...is betrothed to somebody.
May I?
Since neither of you seem to have any use for this.
Passepartout, heat the water, please.
What now?
It's 4:00. Time for tea.
Monsieur Fogg, there is no tea left whatever.
Good heavens.
I forgot to buy some in San Francisco.
I was so unnerved by that abominable Yankee
who followed us.
There's some chaps over there.
Pop over like a good fellow
and ask them if they can spare us
a pinch of tea, will you?
Explain the circumstances.
Tea.
The best you can possible get from them
is what they call coffee.
It's tan bark.
That's if they're prepared to be civil to you at all.
Civil to a fellow traveler in distress?
I shall go myself.
Can't you stop him?
I'm not sure I want to.
So, we meet again.
Only this time, it ain't gonna be so easy.
You owe me a duel, mister.
I figure on collecting right here and now.
With maybe a little side bet in soft cash.
As I pointed out previously,
I have no intention of meeting on the field of honor
with someone who can neither lay claim to honor nor breeding.
And I'm calling you a yellow, dirt-lickin',
toad-eatin', limey skunk.
Well, it seems to me our respective country's
eating habits are neither here nor there.
If you think you can provoke me
into changing my mind, I assure you, you cannot.
Please!
Eh.
Thank you.
Well, shall we proceed?
Is that all you have to say to this man?
I beg your pardon?
You don't seem to realize
how helpless we would be here without him.
Precisely.
That's exactly why I'm paying him.
I followed you halfway around the world
because I believed you to be a man.
I'm a gentleman, not a street brawler.
If this modest point of distinction
doesn't strike you as adequate...
No, it does not.
And if your countrymen are anything like you,
I'm not sure I wouldn't rather stay here.
Passepartout.
Monsieur.
Well, according to my calculations,
we're some five minutes ahead of schedule.
I'm well pleased.
Well, I'm happy that you are.
Have you looked behind you?
Colonel Proctor.
He can catch us anytime he wants to.
Therefore?
Therefore, we should head for the brush
and turn toward the river.
Sir, are you proposing
that I employ subterfuge to evade this ruffian?
Mr. Fogg, it's your schedule.
You have very little understanding
of the British spirit of sportsmanship.
One engages in a contest, not for the sake of vulgar victory,
but for the sake of playing the game.
Well, in playing the game,
have you considered the safety of this young woman?
Princess Aouda
derives from a cast of warriors who have given Her Majesty
a rousing good scrap once in a while.
And all the better for it.
But out in the open, mind you, not-not hiding behind
some craven ambush, like-like-like red Indians.
The last countryman of yours
who uttered sentiments like that about tactics
was a fellow named Cornwallis,
just before the Battle of Yorktown.
Now, I wonder what he thought
when Washington finished with him.
Charlie Cornwallis.
That fatuous second-rate little opportunist who let
those untrained colonists lead him around by the nose?
Let me tell you, sir, that if your town had been defended
by my great grandfather,
General Sir Hezekiah Fogg, your country today would be
little more than the southernmost province of Canada.
Monsieur Fogg,
it was your kind of strategy that defeated
the great Napoleon at Waterloo.
I am with you.
And you, Aouda?
Mr. Fogg saved my life.
I'm his to do with
whatever he wishes.
Uh, now, now, there, young woman.
I shall countenance nothing that doesn't have
the full sanction of the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Mr. Fogg, in our backward little country,
we are not yet able to afford playing the jolly good game.
We play out here to win.
Especially when there are lives involved.
Now, if that idea is repugnant to you,
you may proceed without me.
I am headed for Reno.
In the words of La Bible, sir,
"They shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased."
That's enough of your cheek.
Now, this map, which I purchased in San Francisco
at a cost of $25, states categorically that the river
at this point is no more than four feet deep.
There was a hot spell in the Sierras last week,
melted a lot of snow.
Well, this map makes no provision
for hot spells in the Sierra.
Well, be that as it may,
we obviously can't swim any horses across this.
It's too deep and too swift.
Mr. Paladin, I must insist.
My schedule depends upon it.
Passepartout.
Passepartout, you're an idiot.
This is obviously a ferry crossing.
Now, go and find a boat.
There's a good chap.
Oui, monsieur.
The bags are on the horses.
Well, I suppose we'd better find someplace to make a camp.
Proctor and those people will be coming along.
We'll need someplace that's protected.
My valet expects to find me here, and here I shall stay.
Mr. Fogg, I do not want to leave your side.
But to stay here in the open
when those men may attack at any moment is sheer madness!
It was because of sheer madness-
as you choose to call it- that my nation was able
to build an empire upon which the sun never sets.
Fogg...
you have circled three-quarters of this globe
with your eyes entirely closed to everything
except your small creature comforts
and your inflexible routines.
Very well!
I think it's just about time you found out
that this is one country where the ground rules of cricket
won't get you to second base.
Princess.
Paladin, I'm frightened.
What of?
In a way, Fogg's right.
They built that extraordinary empire of theirs
by believing that the rules of cricket
apply throughout the world.
I'm afraid of going to England.
Why, even the English poets find England unbearable.
How so?
Shakespeare.
"There live not three good men unhung in England
and one of them is fat."
Well...
Boswell said, "When a man is tired of London,
he is tired of life."
Here we are, one man and one woman,
bursting with life,
alone in the wilderness,
and you have nothing more passionate to offer
than Anglo-Saxon poetry.
Back in our mountains,
a man like that would not be considered a man.
Yes. Mm-hmm.
Now, what do you suppose Mr. Phileas Fogg would do
if he saw us together
bursting with life?
He'd challenge you to a duel to death.
Mm.
Wouldn't he?
I suppose he would.
Hello, Colonel.
This time, it's for real, Mr. Fogg.
We gonna have our little duel, whether you like it or not.
Very well.
If you insist.
All right!
You want to try it?!
Now, shuck that gun out there!
Are you ready?
Hardly cricket, old man.
Phileas!
Monsieur Fogg!
Ah!
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Monsieur Fogg!
Why is it that there's nothing that thrills a woman so much
as the sight of a man's blood?
Even covered with blood, he's sarcastic!
She has a fine temper.
All spirit and whipcord.
To her people, she's dead, so she has no home.
You strike me as being very capable,
so I'll entrust her to your charge.
Since she seems to prefer the rigors of San Francisco.
Well, Mr. Fogg,
let's have a look at this shoulder.
Now, Mr. Fogg, if all your wounds
are as slight as this one, you will be fortunate.
Indeed.
You are exactly on time, Mr. Fogg.
This is the Truckee River, which flows directly into Reno.
Sir.
Mr. Paladin.
I can't say the words to him.
No?
Tell him they say that a man and a woman
are like two wheels on the cart of life.
And one will not turn without the other.
Indeed, madam, they do say so.
Ask him if he would have me for his wife.
Tell her I will.
¶ ¶
¶ "Have gun will travel," reads the card of a man ¶
¶ A knight without armor in a savage land ¶
¶ His fast gun for hire heeds the calling wind ¶
¶ A soldier of fortune is the man called Paladin ¶
¶ Paladin, Paladin, where do you roam? ¶
¶ Paladin, Paladin, far, far from home. ¶