Вокруг света за 80 дней / Around the World in Eighty Days

The guide was familiar with the pagoda of Pillaji, in which the young woman was imprisoned. The abduction will happen that night. As soon as night fell, about six o’clock, they decided to make a reconnaissance around the pagoda. The cries of the fakirs ceased; the Indians were drunk. They drank liquid opium with hemp.

The Parsee led the travelers. They noiselessly crept through the wood, and in ten minutes they found themselves on the banks of a small stream, whence they perceived a pyre of wood. On the top of it lay the embalmed body of the rajah. The Indians wanted to burn him with his wife. The pagoda stood a hundred steps away.

“Come!” whispered the guide.

Soon the Parsee stopped on the borders of the glade. The ground was covered by groups of the motionless Indians. Men, women, and children lay together. Among the trees, the pagoda of Pillaji loomed distinctly. The Parsee led his companions back again. They lay down at the foot of a tree and waited.

The time seemed long, the guards watched steadily by the glare of the torches, and a dim light crept through the windows of the pagoda. They waited till midnight; but no change took place among the guards.

“We have nothing to do but to go away,” whispered Sir Francis.

“Nothing but to go away,” echoed the guide.

Meanwhile Passepartout resolved an idea.

“What folly!” said he. “Why not, after all? It’s a chance, perhaps the only one!”

And he slipped to the lowest branches. The hours passed, and the lighter shades announced the approach of day. This was the moment. This was the hour of the sacrifice. The doors of the pagoda swung open[72 - swung open – распахнулись], and a bright light escaped from its interior. In the midst of it Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis saw the victim. Sir Francis’s heart throbbed. Just at this moment the crowd began to move. The young woman passed among the fakirs, who escorted her with their wild, religious cries.

Phileas Fogg and his companions followed; and in two minutes they reached the banks of the stream. Then they stopped fifty paces from the pyre, upon which still lay the rajah’s corpse. They saw the victim, quite senseless, stretched out beside her husband’s body. Then a torch was brought, and the wood, heavily soaked with oil, instantly took fire[73 - took fire – загорелось].

At this moment Sir Francis and the guide seized Phileas Fogg, who wanted to rush upon the pyre. But the whole scene suddenly changed. A cry of terror arose. The Indians prostrated themselves on the ground.

The old rajah was not dead, then, since he rose of a sudden, like a spectre, took up his wife in his arms, and descended from the pyre in the midst of the clouds of smoke. Fakirs and soldiers and priests lay there, with their faces on the ground. Such a prodigy!

Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis were astonished, the Parsee bowed his head. The resuscitated rajah approached Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg, and said,

“Let’s run!”

It was Passepartout himself, who slipped upon the pyre in the midst of the smoke and delivered the young woman from death! It was Passepartout who passed through the crowd amid the general terror.

A moment after all four of the party disappeared in the woods, and the elephant was bearing them away at a rapid pace.

Chapter XIV

Passepartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis pressed the fellow’s hand, and his master said,

“Well done!”

Passepartout laughed; for a few moments he was the spouse of a charming woman, a venerable, embalmed rajah! As for the young Indian woman, she was unconscious and was reposing in one of the howdahs.

The elephant was advancing rapidly through the still darksome forest, and soon crossed a vast plain. They halted at seven o’clock. Sir Francis told Phileas Fogg that Aouda could inevitably fall again into the hands of her executioners. These fanatics were throughout the county. They will recover their victim at Madras, Bombay, or Calcutta. She must quit India for ever. Phileas Fogg was ready to reflect upon the matter.