AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS(环游世界80天)-第7部分

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ime　took　a　piece　of　sugar　out　of　his　pocket；　and　inserted　it　in　Kiouni's　trunks　who　received　it　without　in　the　least　slackening　his　regular　trot。　
After　two　hours　the　guide　stopped　the　elephant；　and　gave　him　an　hour　for　rest；　during　which　Kiouni；　after　quenching　his　thirst　at　a　neighbouring　spring；　set　to　devouring　the　branches　and　shrubs　round　about　him。　Neither　Sir　Francis　nor　Mr　Fogg　regretted　the　delay；　and　both　descended　with　a　feeling　of　relief。　‘Why；　he's　made　of　iron！'　exclaimed　the　general；　gazing　admiringly　on　Kiouni。　
‘Of　…　forged　iron；'　replied　Passepartout；　as　he　set　about　preparing　a　hasty　breakfast。　
At　noon　the　Parsee　gave　the　signal　of　departure。　
The　country　soon　presented　a　very　savage　aspect。　Copses　of　dates　and　dwarf…palms　sucomeeded　the　dense　forests；　then　vast；　dry　plains；　dotted　with　scanty　shrubs；　and　sown　with　great　blocks　of　syenite。　All　this　portion　of　Bundelcund；　which　is　little　frequented　by　travellers；　is　inhabited　by　a　fanatical　population；　hardened　in　the　most　horrible　practices　of　the　Hindoo　faith。　The　English　have　not　been　able　to　secure　complete　dominion　over　this　territory；　which　is　subjected　to　the　influence　of　rajahs；　whom　it　is　almost　impossible　to　reach　in　their　inacomessible　mountain　fastnesses。　The　travellers　several　times　saw　bands　of　ferocious　Indians；　who；　when　they　perceived　the　elephant　striding　across　country；　made　angry　and　threatening　motions。　The　Parsee　avoided　them　as　much　as　possible。　Few　animals　were　observed　on　the　route；　even　the　monkeys　hurried　from　their　path　with　contortions　and　grimaces　which　convulsed　Passepartout　with　laughter。　
In　the　midst　of　his　gaiety；　however；　one　thought　troubled　the　worthy　servant。　What　would　Mr　Fogg　do　with　the　elephant；　when　he　got　to　Allahabad？　Would　he　carry　him　on　with　him？　Impossible！　The　cost　of　transporting　him　would　make　him　ruinously　expensive。　Would　he　sell　him；　or　set　him　free？　The　estimable　beast　certainly　deserved　some　consideration。　Should　Mr　Fogg　choose　to　make　him；　Passepartout；　a　present　of　Kiouni；　he　would　be　very　much　embarrassed；　and　these　thoughts　did　not　cease　worrying　him　for　a　long　time。　
The　principal　chain　of　the　Vindhias　was　crossed　by　eight　in　the　evening；　and　another　halt　was　made　on　the　northern　slope；　in　a　Bed　bungalow。　They　had　gone　nearly　twenty…five　miles　that　day；　and　an　equal　distance　still　separated　them　from　the　station　of　Allahabad。　
The　night　was　cold。　The　Parsee　lit　a　fire　in　the　bungalow　with　a　few　dry　branches；　and　the　warmth　was　very　grateful。　The　provisions　purchased　at　Kholby　sufficed　for　supper；　and　the　travellers　ate　ravenously。　The　conversation；　beginning　with　a　few　disconnected　phrases；　soon　gave　place　to　loud　and　steady　snores。　The　guide　watched　Kiouni；　who　slept　standing；　bolstering　himself　against　the　trunk　of　a　large　tree。　Nothing　ocomurred　during　the　night　to　disturb　the　slumberers；　although　ocomasional　growls　from　panthers　and　chatterings　of　monkeys　broke　the　silence；　the　more　formidable　beasts　made　no　cries　or　hostile　demonstration　against　the　ocomupants　of　the　bungalow。　Sir　Francis　slept　heavily；　like　an　honest　soldier　overcome　with　fatigue。　Passepartout　was　wrapped　in　uneasy　dreams　of　the　bouncing　of　the　day　before。　As　for　Mr　Fogg；　he　slumbered　as　peak　fully　as　if　he　had　been　in　his　serene　mansion　in　Saville　Row。　
The　journey　was　resumed　at　six　in　the　morning；　the　guide　hoped　to　reach　Allahabad　by　evening。　In　that　case；　Mr　Fogg　would　only　lose　a　part　of　the　forty…eight　hours　saved　since　the　beginning　of　the　tour。　Kiouni；　resuming　his　rapid　gait；　soon　descended　the　lower　spurs　of　the　Vindhias；　and　towards　noon　they　passed　by　the　age　of　Kallenger；　on　the　Cani；　one　of　the　branches　of　the　Ganges。　The　guide　avoided　inhabited　places；　tag　it　safer　to　keep　the　open　country；　which　lies　along　the　first　depressions　of　the　basin　of　the　great　river。　Allahabad　was　now　only　twelve　miles　to　the　northeast。　They　stopped　under　a　clump　of　bananas；　the　fruit　of　which；　as　healthy　as　bread　and　as　sucomulent　as　cream；　was　amply　partaken　of　and　appreciated。　
At　two　o'clock　the　guide　entered　a　thick　forest　which　extended　several　miles；　he　preferred　to　travel　under　cover　of　the　woods。　They　had　not　as　yet　had　any　unpleasant　encounters；　and　the　journey　seemed　on　the　point　of　being　sucomessfully　acomomplished；　when　the　elephant；　becoming　restless；　suddenly　stopped。　
It　was　then　four　o'clock。　
‘What's　the　matter？'　asked　Sir　Francis；　putting　out　his　head。　
‘I　don't　know；　officer；'　replied　the　Parsee；　listening　attentively　to　a　confused　murmur　which　came　through　the　thick　branches。　
The　murmur　soon　became　more　distinct；　it　now　seemed　like　a　distant　concert　of　human　voices　acomompanied　by　brass　instruments。　Passepartout　was　all　eyes　and　ears。　Mr　Fogg　patiently　waited　without　a　word。　The　Parsee　jumped　to　the　ground；　fastened　the　elephant　to　a　tree；　and　plunged　into　the　thicket。　He　soon　returned；　saying；　
‘A　procession　of　Brahmins　is　coming　this　way。　We　must　prevent　their　seeing　us；　if　possible。'　
The　guide　unloosed　the　elephant　and　led　him　into　a　thicket；　at　the　same　time　asking　the　travellers　not　to　stir。　He　held　himself　ready　to　bestride　the　animal　at　a　moment's　notice；　should　flight　become　necessary；　but　he　evidently　thought　that　the　procession　of　the　faithful　would　pass　without　perceiving　them　amid　the　thick　foliage；　in　which　they　were　wholly　concealed。　
The　discordant　tones　of　the　voices　and　instruments　drew　nearer；　and　now　droning　songs　mingled　with　the　sound　of　the　tambourines　and　cymbals。　The　head　of　the　procession　soon　appeared　beneath　the　trees；　a　hundred　paces　away；　and　the　strange　figures　who　performed　the　religious　ceremony　were　easily　distinguished　through　the　branches。　First　came　the　priests；　with　mitres　on　their　heads；　and　clothed　in　long　lace　robes。　They　were　surrounded　by　men；　women；　and　children；　who　sang　a　kind　of　lugubrious　psalm；　interrupted　at　regular　intervals　by　the　tambourines　and　cymbals；　while　behind　them　was　drawn　a　car　with　large　wheels；　the　spokes　of　which　represented　serpents　entwined　with　each　other。　Upon　the　car；　which　was　drawn　by　four　richly　caparisoned　zebus　stood　a　hideous　statue　with　four　arms；　the　body　coloured　a　dull　red；　with　haggard　eyes；　dishevelled　hair；　protruding　tongue；　and　lips　tinted　with　betel。　It　stood　upright　upon　the　figure　of　a　prostrate　and　headless　giant。　
Sir　Francis；　recognizing　the　statue；　whispered；　‘The　goddess　Kali；　the　goddess　of　love　and　death。'　
‘Of　death；　perhaps；'　muttered　back　Passepartout；　‘but　of　love　…　that　ugly　old　hag？　Never！'　
The　Parsee　made　a　motion　to　keep　silence。　
A　group　of　old　fakirs　were　capering　and　making　a　wild　ado　round　the　statue；　te　were　striped　with　ochre；　and　covered　with　cuts　whence　their　blood　issued　drop　by　drop　…　stupid　fanatics；　who；　in　the　great　Indian　ceremonies；　still　throw　themselves　under　the　wheels　of　Juggernaut。　Some　Brahmins；　clad　in　all　the　sumptuousness　of　Oriental　apparel；　and　leading　a　woman　who　faltered　at　every　step；　followed。　This　woman　was　young；　and　as　fair　as　a　European。　Her　head　and　neck；　shoulders；　ears；　arms；　hands　and　toes；　were　loaded　down　with　jewels　and　gems；　…　with　bracelets；　earrings；　and　rings；　while　a　tunic　bordered　with　gold；　and　covered　with　a　light　muslin　robe；　betrayed　the　outline　of　her　form。　
The　guards　who　followed　the　young　woman　presented　a　violent　contrast　to　her；　armed　as　they　were　with　naked　sabres　hung　at　their　waists；　and　long　damascened　pistols；　and　bearing　a　corpse　on　a　palanquin。　It　was　the　body　of　an　old　man；　gorgeously　arrayed　in　the　habiliments　of　a　rajah；　wearing；　as　in　life；　a　turban　embroidered　with　pearls；　a　robe　of　tissue　of　silk　and　gold；　a　scarf　of　cashmere　sewed　with　diamonds；　and　the　magnificent　weapons　of　a　Hindoo　prince。　Next　came　the　musicians　and　a　rearguard　of　capering　fakirs；　whose　cries　sometimes　drowned　the　noise　of　the　instruments；　these　closed　the　procession。　
Sir　Francis　watched　the　procession　with　a　sad　countenance；　and；　turning　to　the　guide；　said；　‘A　suttee。'　
The　Parsee　nodded；　and　put　his　finger　to　his　lips。　The　procession　slowly　wound　under　the　trees；　and　soon　its　last　ranks　disappeared　in　the　depths　of　the　wood。　The　songs　gradually　died　away；　ocomasionally　cries　were　heard　in　the　distance；　until　at　last　all　was　silence　again。　
Phileas　Fogg　had　heard　what　Sir　Francis　said；　and；　as　soon　as　the　procession　had　disappeared；　asked：　
‘What　is　a　〃suttee〃？'　
‘A　suttee；'　returned　the　general；　‘is　a　human　sacrifice　but　a　voluntary　one。　The　woman　you　have　just　seen　will　be　burned　tomorrow　at　the　dawn　of　day。'　
‘Oh；　the　scoundrels！'　cried　Passepartout；　who　could　not　repress　his　indignation。　
‘And　the　corpse？'　asked　Mr　Fogg。　
‘Is　that　of　the　prince；　her　husband；'　said　the　guide；　‘an　independent　rajah　of　Bundelcund。'　
‘Is　it　possible；'　resumed　Phileas　Fogg；　his　voice　betraying　not　the　least　emotion；　‘that　these　barbarous　customs　still　exist　in　India；　and　that　the　English　have　been　unable　to　put　a　stop　to　them？'　
‘These　sacrifices　do　not　ocomur　in　the　larger　portion　of　India；'　replied　Sir　Francis；　‘but　we　have　no　power　over　these　savage　territories；　and　especially　here　in　Bundelcund。　The　whole　district　north　of　the　Vindhias　is　the　theatre　of　incessant　murders　and　pillage。'　
‘The　poor　wretch！'　exclaimed　Passepartout。　‘To　be　burned　alive！'　
‘Yes；'　returned　Sir　Francis；　‘burned　alive。　And　if　she　were　not；　you　cannot　conceive　what　treatment　she　would　be　obliged　to　submit　to　from　her　relatives。　They　would　shave　off　her　hair　feed　her　on　a　scanty　allowance　of　rice；　treat　her　with　contempt；　she　would　be　looked　upon　as　an　unclean　creature；　and　would　die　in　some　corner；　like　a　scurvy　dog。　The　prospect　of　so　frightful　an　existence　drives　these　poor　creatures　to　the　sacrifice　much　more　than　love　or　religious　fanaticism。　Sometimes；　however；　the　sacrifice　is　really　voluntary；　and　it　requires　the　active　interference　of　the　Government　to　prevent　it。　Several　years　ago；　when　I　was　living　at　Bombay；　a　young　widow　asked　permission　of　the　governor　to　be　burned　along　with　her　husband's　body；　but；　as　you　may　imagine；　he　refused。　The　woman　left　the　town；　took　refuge　with　an　independent　rajah；　and　there　carried　out　her　self…devoted　purpose。'　
While　Sir　Francis　was　speaking；　the　guide　shook　his　head　several　times；　and　now　said：　‘The　sacrifice　which　will　take　place　tomorrow　at　dawn　is　not　a　voluntary　one。'　
‘How　do　you　know？'　
‘Everybody　knows　about　this　affair　in　Bundelcund。'　
‘But　the　wretched　creature　did　not　seem　to　be　making　any　resistance；'　observed　Sir　Francis。　
‘That　was　because　they　had　intoxicated　her　with　fumes　of　hemp　and　opium。'　
‘But　where　are　they　taking　her？'　
To　the　pagoda　of　Pillaji；　two　miles　from　here；　she　will　pass　the　night　there。'　
‘And　the　sacrifice　will　take　place……'　
‘To…morrow；　at　the　first　light　of　dawn。'　
The　guide　now　led　the　elephant　out　of　the　thicket；　and　leaped　upon　his　neck。　Just　at　the　moment　that　he　was　about　to　urge　Kiouni　forward　with　a　peculiar　whistle；　Mr　Fogg　stopped　him；　and；　turning　to　Sir　Francis　Cromarty；　said；　‘Suppose　we　save　this　woman。'　
‘Save　the　woman；　Mr　Fogg！'　
‘I　have　yet　twelve　hours　to　spare；　I　can　devote　them　to　that。'　
‘Why；　you　are　a　man　of　heart！'　
‘Sometimes；'　replied　Phileas　Fogg；　quietly；　‘when　I　have　the　time。'　

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CHAPTER　XIII
IN　WHICH　PASSEPARTOUT　RECEIVES　A　NEW　PROOF　THAT　FORTUNE　FAVOURS　THE　BRAVE。
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The　project　was　a　bold　one；　full　of　difficulty；　perhaps　impracticable。　Mr　Fogg　was　going　to　risk　life；　or　at　least　liberty；　and　therefore　the　sucomess　of　his　tour。　But　he　did　not　hesitate；　and　he　found　in　Sir　Francis　Cromarty　an　enthusiastic　ally。　
As　for　Passepartout；　he　was　ready　for　anything　that　might　be　proposed。　His　master's　idea　charmed　him；　he　perceived　a　heart；　a　soul；　under　that　icy　exterior。　He　began　to　love　Phileas　Fogg。　
There　remained　the　guide：　what　course　would　he　adopt？　Would　he　not　take　part　with　the　Indians？　In　default　of　his　assistance；　it　was　necessary　to　be　assured　of　his　neutrality。　
Sir　Francis　frankly　put　the　question　to　him。　
‘Officers；'　replied　the　guide；　‘I　am　a　Parsee；　and　this　woman　is　a　Parsee。　Command　me　as　you　will。'　
‘Excellent；'　said　Mr　Fogg。　
‘However；'　resumed　the　guide；　‘it　is　certain；　not　only　that　we　shall　risk　our　lives；　but　horrible　tortures；　if　we　are　taken。'　
‘That　is　foreseen；'　replied　Mr　Fogg。　‘I　think　we　must　wait　till　night　before　acting。'　
‘I　think　so；'　said　the　guide。　
The　worthy　Indian　then　gave　some　acomount　of　the　victim；　who；　he　said；　was　a　celebrated　beauty　of　the　Parsee　race；　and　the　daughter　of　a　wealthy　Bombay　merchant。　She　had　received　a　thoroughly　English　education　in　that　city；　and；　from　her　manners　and　intelligence；　would　be　thought　an　European。　Her　name　was　Aouda。　Left　an　orphan；　she　was　married　against　her　will　to　the　old　rajah　of　Bundelcund；　and；　knowing　the　fate　that　awaited　her；　she　escaped；　was　retaken；　and　devoted　by　the　rajah's　relatives；　who　had　an　interest　in　her　death；　to　the　sacrifice　from　which　it　seemed　she　could　not　escape。　
The　Parsee's　narrative　only　confirmed　Mr　Fogg　and　his　companions　in　their　generous　design。　It　was　decided　that　the　guide　should　direct　the　elephant　towards　the　pagoda　of　Pillaji；　which　he　acomordingly　approached　as　quickly　as　possible。　They　halted；　half…an…hour　afterwards；　in　a　copse；　some　five　hundred　feet　from　the　pagoda；　where　they　were　well　concealed；　but　they　could　hear　the　groans　and　cries　of　the　fakirs　distinctly。　
They　then　discussed　the　means　of　getting　at　the　victim。　The　guide　was　familiar　with　the　pagoda　of　Pillaji；　in　which；　as　he　declared；　the　young　woman　was　imprisoned。　Could　they　enter　any　of　its　doors　while　the　whole　party　of　Indians　was　plunged　in　a　drunken　sleep　or　was　it　safer　to　attempt　to　make　a　hole　in　the　walls？　This　could　only　be　determined　at　the　moment　and　the　place　themselves；　but　it　was　certain　that　the　abduction　must　be　made　that　night；　and　not　when；　at　break　of　day；　the　victim　was　led　to　her　funeral　pyre。　Then　no　human　intervention　could　save　her。　
As　soon　as　night　fell；　about　six　o'clock；　they　decided　to　make　a　reconnaissance　around　the　pagoda。　The　cries　of　the　fakirs　were　just　ceasing；　the　Indians　were　in　the　act　of　plunging　themselves　into　the　drunkenness　caused　by　liquid　Opium　mingled　with　hemp；　and　it　might　be　possible　to　slip　between　them　to　the　temple　itself。　
The　Parsee；　leading　the　others；　noiselessly　crept　through　the　wood；　and　in　ten　minutes　they　found　themselves　on　the　banks　of　a　small　stream；　whence；　by　the　light　of　the　rosin　torches；　they　perceived　a　pyre　of　wood；　on　the　top　of　which　lay　the　embalmed　body　of　the　rajah；　which　was　to　be　burned　with　his　wife。　The　pagoda；　whose　minarets　loomed　above　the　trees　in　the　deepening　dusk；　Stood　a　hundred　steps　away。　
‘Come！'　whispered　the　guide。　
He　slipped　more　cautiously　than　ever　through　the　brush；　followed　by　his　companions；　the　silence　around　was　only　broken　by　the　low　murmuring　of　the　wind　among　the　branches。　
Soon　the　Parsee　stopped　on　the　borders　of　the　glade；　which　was　lit　up　by　the　torches。　The　ground　was　covered　by　groups　of　the　Indians；　motionless　in　their　drunken　sleep；　it　seemed　a　battle…field　strewn　with　the　dead。　Men；　women；　and　children　lay　together。　
In　the　background；　among　the　trees；　the　pagoda　of　Pillaji　loomed　indistinctly。　Much　to　the　guide's　disappointment；　the　guards　of　the　rajah；　lighted　by　torches；　were　watching　at　the　doors　and　marching　to　and　fro　with　nak