Chapter 14

  In Which Phileas Fogg Descends the Whole Length of theBeautiful Valley of the Ganges without Ever Thinking of Seeing It

  The rash exploit had been accomplished; and for an hourPassepartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis pressedthe worthy fellow's hand, and his master said, "Well done!"which, from him, was high commendation; to which Passepartoutreplied that all the credit of the affair belonged to Mr. Fogg.As for him, he had only been struck with a "queer" idea; and helaughed to think that for a few moments he, Passepartout, theex-gymnast, ex-sergeant fireman, had been the spouse of acharming woman, a venerable, embalmed rajah! As for the youngIndian woman, she had been unconscious throughout of what waspassing, and now, wrapped up in a traveling blanket, wasreposing in one of the howdahs.

  The elephant, thanks to the skillful guidance of the Parsee, wasadvancing rapidly through the still darksome forest, and, an hourafter leaving the pagoda, had crossed a vast plain.

  They made a halt at seven o'clock, the young woman being still ina state of complete prostration. The guide made her drink alittle brandy and water, but the drowsiness which stupefied hercould not yet be shaken off. Sir Francis, who was familiar withthe effects of the intoxication produced by thefumes of hemp, reassured his companions on her account. But hewas more disturbed at the prospect of her future fate. He toldPhileas Fogg that, should Aouda remain in India, she wouldinevitably fall again into the hands of her executioners. Thesefanatics were scattered throughout the country, and would,despite the English police, recover their victim at Madras,Bombay, or Calcutta. She would only be safe by quitting Indiaforever.

  Phileas Fogg replied that he would reflect upon the matter.

  The station at Allahabad was reached about ten o'clock, and, theinterrupted line of railway being resumed, would enable them toreach Calcutta in less than twenty-four hours. Phileas Fogg wouldthus be able to arrive in time to take the steamer which leftCalcutta the next day, October 25th, at noon, for Hong Kong.

  The young woman was placed in one of the waiting-rooms of thestation, while Passepartout was charged with purchasing for hervarious articles of toilet, a dress, shawl and some furs; forwhich his master gave him unlimited credit. Passepartout startedoff forthwith, and found himself in the streets of Allahabad,that is, the City of God. One of the most venerated in India, itwas built at the junction of the two sacred rivers, Ganges andJumna, the waters of which attract pilgrims from every part ofthe peninsula. The Ganges, according to the legends of theRamayana, rises in heaven, whence, owing to Brahma's agency, itdescends to the earth.

  Passepartout made it a point, as he made his purchases, to take agood look at the city. It was formerly defended by a noble fort,which has since become a state prison. Its commerce has dwindledaway, and Passepartout in vain looked about him for such a bazaaras he used to frequent in Regent Street. At last he came upon anelderly, crusty Jew, who sold second-hand articles, and from whomhe purchased a dress of Scotch stuff, a large mantle and a fineotter-skin pelisse, for which he did not hesitate to payseventy-five pounds. He then returned triumphantly to thestation.

  The influence to which the priests of Pillaji had subjected Aoudabegan gradually to yield, and she became more herself, so thather fine eyes resumed all their soft Indian expression.

  When the poet-king, Ucaf Uddaul, celebrates the charms of thequeen of Ahmehnagara, he speaks thus: "Her shining tresses,divided in two parts, encircle the harmonious contour of herwhite and delicate cheeks, brilliant in their glow and freshness.Her ebony brows have the form and charm of the bow of Kama, thegod of love, and beneath her long silken lashes the purestreflections and a celestial light swim, as in the sacred lakes ofHimalaya, in the black pupils of her great clear eyes. Her teeth,fine, equal and white, glitter between her smiling lips likedewdrops in a passion-flower's half-enveloped breast. Herdelicately formed ears, her vermilion hands, her little feet,curved and tender as the lotus-bud, glitter with the brilliancyof the loveliest pearls of Ceylon, the most dazzling diamonds ofGolconda. Her narrow and supple waist, which a hand may clasparound, sets forth the outline of her rounded figure and thebeauty of her bosom, where youth in its flower displays thewealth of its treasures; and beneath the silken folds of hertunic she seems to have been modeled in pure silver by thegodlike hand of Vicvarcarma, the immortal sculptor."

  It is enough to say, without applying this poetical rhapsody toAouda, that she was a charming woman, in all the Europeanacceptance of the phrase. She spoke English with great purity,and the guide had not exaggerated in saying that the young Parseehad been transformed by her bringing up.

  The train was about to start from Allahabad, and Mr. Foggproceeded to pay the guide the price agreed upon for his service,and not a farthing more. This astonished Passepartout, whoremembered all that his master owed to the guide's devotion. Hehad, indeed, risked his life in the adventure at Pillaji, and, ifhe should be caught afterwards by the Indians, he would withdifficulty escape their vengeance. Kiouni, also, must be disposedof. What should be done with the elephant, which had been sodearly purchased? Phileas Fogg had already determined thisquestion.

  "Parsee," he said to the guide, "you have been serviceable anddevoted. I have paid for your service, but not for your devotion.Would you like to have this elephant? He is yours."

  The guide's eyes glistened.

  "Your honor is giving me a fortune!" he cried.

  "Take him, guide," returned Mr. Fogg, "and I shall still be yourdebtor."

  "Good!" exclaimed Passepartout. "Take him, friend. Kiouni is abrave and faithful beast." And, going up to the elephant, he gavehim several lumps of sugar, saying, "Here, Kiouni, here, here."

  The elephant grunted out his satisfaction, and, claspingPassepartout around the waist with his trunk, lifted him as highas his head. Passepartout, not in the least alarmed, caressed theanimal, which replaced him gently on the ground. Soon after,Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty and Passepartout, installed ina carriage with Aouda, who had the best seat, were whirling atfull speed towards Benares. It was a run of eighty miles, and wasaccomplished in two hours.

  During the journey, the young woman fully recovered her senses.What was her astonishment to find herself in this carriage, onthe railway, dressed in European clothes, and with travelers whowere quite strangers to her! Her companions first set about fullyreviving her with a little liquor, and then Sir Francis narratedto her what had passed, dwelling upon the courage with whichPhileas Fogg had not hesitated to risk his life to save her, andrecounting the happy sequel of the venture, the result ofPassepartout's rash idea. Mr. Fogg said nothing; whilePassepartout, abashed, kept repeating that "it wasn't worthtelling."

  Aouda pathetically thanked her deliverers, rather with tears thanwords. Her fine eyes interpreted her gratitude better than herlips. Then, as her thoughts strayed back to the scene of thesacrifice, and recalled the dangers which still menaced her, sheshuddered with terror.

  Phileas Fogg understood what was passing in Aouda's mind, andoffered, in order to reassure her, to escort her to Hong Kong,where she might remain safely until the affair was hushed up--anoffer which she eagerly and gratefully accepted. She had, itseems, a Parsee relation, who was one of the principal merchantsof Hong Kong, which is wholly an English city, though on anisland on the Chinese coast.

  At half-past twelve the train stopped at Benares. The Brahminlegends assert that this city is built on the site of the ancientCasi, which, like Mahomet's tomb, was once suspended betweenheaven and earth. But the Benares of today, which theOrientalists call the Athens of India, stands quite unpoeticallyon solid earth. Passepartout caught glimpses of its brick housesand clay huts, giving an aspect of desolation to the place, asthe train entered it.

  Benares was Sir Francis Cromarty's destination. The troops he wasrejoining were encamped some miles northward of the city. He badeadieu to Phileas Fogg, wishing him all success, and expressingthe hope that he would come that way again in a less original butmore profitable fashion. Mr. Fogg lightly pressed him
by thehand. The parting of Aouda, who did not forget what she owed toSir Francis, betrayed more warmth. As for Passepartout, hereceived a hearty shake of the hand from the gallant general.

  The railway, on leaving Benares, passed for a while along thevalley of the Ganges. Through the windows of their carriage thetravelers had glimpses of the diversified landscape of Behar,with its mountains clothed in verdure, its fields of barley,wheat and corn, its jungles peopled with green alligators, itsneat villages and its still thickly-leaved forests. Elephantswere bathing in the waters of the sacred river, and groups ofIndians, despite the advanced season and chilly air, wereperforming solemnly their pious ablutions. These were ferventBrahmins, the bitterest foes of Buddhism, their deities beingVishnu, the solar god, Shiva, the divine impersonation of naturalforces and Brahma, the supreme ruler of priests and legislators.What would these divinities think of India? Anglicized as it istoday, with steamers whistling and scudding along the Ganges,frightening the gulls which float upon its surface, the turtlesswarming along its banks and the faithful dwelling upon itsborders?

  The panorama passed before their eyes like a flash, save when thesteam concealed it fitfully from the view. The travelers couldscarcely discern the fort of Chupenie, twenty miles southwestwardfrom Benares, the ancient stronghold of the rajahs of Behar; orGhazipur and its famous rose-waterfactories; or the tomb of LordCornwallis, rising on the left bank of the Ganges; the fortifiedtown of Buxar, or Patna, a large manufacturing and trading-place,where is held the principal opium market of India; or Monghir, amore than European town, for it is as English as Manchester orBirmingham, with its iron foundries, edge-tool factories and highchimneys puffing clouds of black smoke heavenward.

  Night came on. The train passed on at full speed, in the midst ofthe roaring of the tigers, bears and wolves which fled before thelocomotive. The marvels of Bengal, Golconda, ruined Gour,Murshedabad, the ancient capital, Burdwan, Hugly and the Frenchtown of Chandernagor, where Passepartout would have been proud tosee his country's flag flying, were hidden from their view in thedarkness.

  Calcutta was reached at seven in the morning, and the packet leftfor Hong Kong at noon; so that Phileas Fogg had five hours beforehim.

  According to his journal, he was due at Calcutta on the 25th ofOctober, and that was the exact date of his actual arrival. Hewas therefore neither behind nor ahead of time. The two daysgained between London and Bombay had been lost, as has been seen,in the journey across India. But it is not to be supposed thatPhileas Fogg regretted them.