In which Phileas Fogg descends the charming Valley of the Ganges,
without noticing its Beauties.
The rash attempt had proved successful. An hour later, Passe-partout
was laughing at the result of his venturous plan. Sir Francis Cromarty
had shaken hands with him. His master had said, "Well done!" which
from him was high commendation indeed. To which expressions of
approbation, Passe-partout had replied that all the credit of the
affair belonged to his master. His own share in it had been an absurd
notion after all; and he laughed again when he thought that he,
Passe-partout, the ex-gymnast, ex-sergeant of the fire brigade, had
actually played the part of spouse of a beautiful young lady, the
widow of an embalmed rajah!
As for the young lady herself, she was still insensible, and quite
unconscious of all that was passing or had lately passed. Wrapped up
in a railroad-rug, she was now reclining in one of the howdahs.
Meanwhile the elephant, guided with unerring care by the Parsee, was
progressing rapidly through the still gloomy forest. After an hour's
ride, they arrived at an extensive plain. At seven o'clock they
halted. The young lady was still quite unconscious. The guide poured
some brandy down her throat, but she remained insensible for some time
afterwards. Sir Francis Cromarty, who was aware that no serious evil
effects supervened from the inhalation of the fumes of hemp, was in no
way anxious about her.
But if her restoration to consciousness was not a subject of anxiety
to the brigadier, he was less assured respecting her life in the
future. He did not hesitate to tell Mr. Fogg that if Madame Aouda
remained in India, she would sooner or later be taken by her would-be
executioners. Those fanatics were scattered everywhere through the
peninsula, and there was not a doubt that, despite the English police,
the Hindoos would claim their victim, no matter in what presidency she
might endeavour to take refuge. And in support of his assertion, Sir
Francis instanced a similar case which had recently taken place. His
opinion, therefore, was that she would only be in absolute safety when
she quitted India for ever.
Mr. Fogg replied that he would consider the matter, and give his
opinion later.
About ten o'clock the guide announced that they were close to
Allahabad. Then they would be able to continue their journey by the
railroad, and in about four-and-twenty hours they would reach
Calcutta. Phileas Fogg would in that case be in time to catch the Hong
Kong steamer, which was to sail at noon on the 25th of October. The
young woman was safely bestowed in a private waiting-room, while
Passe-partout was hurriedly despatched to purchase various necessary
articles of clothing, etc, for her use. His master supplied the funds
for the purpose.
Passe-partout hastened away, and ran through the streets of
Allahabad--the City of God--one of the most sacred cities of India,
inasmuch as it is built at the junction of the two holy streams of the
Ganges and the Jumna, whose waters attract pilgrims from every part of
the peninsula. We are also told that the Ganges has its source in
heaven, whence, owing to the influence of Bramah, it condescends to
earth.
While he made his purchases diligently, Passe-partout did not forget
to look about him and see something of the city. It was at one time
defended by a splendid fort, which has since become the State prison.
Commerce and business no longer occupy their former places in
Allahabad. Vainly did the worthy European seek for such emporiums as
he would have met in Regent Street; he could find nothing better than
the shop of an old Jew clothesman--a crusty old man he was too. From
him he purchased a tweed dress, a large cloak, and a magnificent
otter-skin pelisse which cost seventy-five pounds. With these garments
he returned in triumph to the railway station.
Mrs. Aouda had by that time partly recovered consciousness. The
influence of the drug administered by the priests was passing away by
degrees, and her bright eyes were once again resuming their soft and
charming Indian expression.
The poet-king, Uçaf Uddaul, celebrating the charms of the Queen of
Ahundnagara, thus sings:
"Her shining locks, parted in the centre of her forehead, set off the
harmonious contours of her white and delicate cheeks, all glowing in
their freshness. Her ebon brows have the shape and power of the bow of
Kama, the god of love; and beneath her silken lashes, her dark eyes
swim in liquid tenderness, as in the sacred lakes of the Himalayas is
reflected the celestial light. Her glittering, even, pearl-like teeth
shine between the smiling lips as the dewdrops in the half-closed
petals of the passion-flower. Her tiny ears, with curves divine, her
small hands, her little feet, tender as the buds of lotus, sparkle
with the pearls of Ceylon and the dazzling diamonds of the famed
Golconda. Her rounded, supple waist, which hand may circle round,
displays the curving outline of the hips, and swelling bosom, where
youth in all its loveliness expands its perfect treasures. Beneath the
tunic-folds the limbs seem formed within a silver mould by the
god-like hand of Vicvarcarnia, the immortal sculptor."
Without exactly comparing Mrs. Aouda with the foregoing description,
it may be stated that she was a most charming woman, in the fullest
acceptation of the term. She spoke English with fluency and purity,
and the guide had only stated the truth when he had averred that the
Parsee lady had been transformed by her education.
The train was about to start; Mr. Fogg was paying the Parsee guide his
hire as agreed--not a farthing in excess. This business-like
arrangement rather astonished Passe-partout, when he recalled all they
owed to the guide's devotion. In fact, the Parsee had risked his life
voluntarily by engaging in the affair at Pillaji, and if he should be
caught by the Hindoos he would very likely be severely dealt with.
There was still Kiouni, however. What was to be done with the
elephant, which had cost so much? But Phileas Fogg had already made up
his mind on that point.
"Parsee," said he to the guide, "you have been most useful and devoted
to us. I have paid for your services, but not for your devotion. Would
you like to have the elephant? If so, he is yours." The eyes of the
guide sparkled.
"Your honour is giving me a fortune!" he exclaimed.
"Take him," replied Mr. Fogg, "and then I shall still be in your
debt."
"Hurrah!" cried Passe-partout; "take him, my friend. Kiouni is a fine
animal;" and going up to the beast, he gave him some pieces of sugar,
saying, "Here, Kiouni, take this, and this."
The elephant gave vent to some grunts of satisfaction, and then
seizing Passe-partout by the waist with his trunk, he lifted him up.
Passe-partout, not in the least afraid, continued to caress the
animal, which replaced him gently on the ground, and to the pressure
of the honest Kiouni's trunk, Passe-partout responded with a kindly
blow.
Some short time after, Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty, and
Passe-partout were seated with Mrs. Aouda, who occupied the best place
in a comfortable compartment of the train, which was speeding towards
Benares. This run of eighty miles from Allahabad was accomplished in
two hours, and in that time the young lady had quite recovered from
the drugs she had inhaled. Her astonishment at finding herself in the
train, dressed in European garments, and with three travellers utterly
unknown to her, may be imagined.
Her companions in the first place showed her every attention, even to
the administration of a few drops of liqueur, and then the general
told her what had happened. He particularly dwelt upon the devotedness
of Phileas Fogg, who had risked his life to save hers, and upon the
termination of the adventure, of which Passe-partout was the hero. Mr.
Fogg made no remark whatever, and Passe-partout looked very bashful,
and declared it was not worth speaking of.
Mrs. Aouda thanked her deliverers effusively by tears at least as much
as by words. Her beautiful eyes even more than her lips expressed her
gratitude. Then her thoughts flew back to the suttee, and as she
remarked she was still on Indian territory, she shuddered with horror.
Phileas Fogg, guessing her thoughts, hastened to reassure her, and
quietly offered to escort her to Hong Kong, where she could remain
till the affair had blown over. This offer the lady moat gratefully
accepted, for--curiously enough--a relative of hers, a Parsee like
herself, was then residing at Hong Kong, and was one of the principal
merchants of that British settlement.
At half-past twelve the train stopped at Benares. Brahmin legends
state that this town is built upon the site of the ancient Casi, which
was at one time suspended between heaven and earth, like Mahomet's
coffin. But in these practical days, Benares, which orientals call the
Athens of India, rests prosaically upon the ground, and Passe-partout
caught many a glimpse of brick houses and numerous clay huts, which
gave the place a desolate appearance, without any local colour.
Sir Francis Cromarty had now reached his destination; the troops he
was to command were encamped a few miles to the north of the town. He
took farewell of Phileas Fogg, wished him every success, and expressed
a hope that he would continue his journey in a more profitable and
less original manner. Mr. Fogg gently pressed his companion's hand.
Mrs. Aouda was more demonstrative; she could not forget what she owed
to Sir Francis Cromarty. As for Passe-partout, he was honoured with a
hearty shake of the general's hand, and was much impressed thereby. So
they parted.
From Benares the railway traverses the valley of the Ganges. The
travellers had many glimpses of the varied country of Behar, the hills
covered with verdure, and a succession of barley, wheat, and com
fields, jungles full of alligators, neat villages, and thick forests.
Elephants and other animals were bathing in the sacred river, as were
also bands of Hindoos of both sexes, who, notwithstanding the advanced
season of the year, were accomplishing their pious ablutions. These
devotees were declared enemies of Buddhism, and were strict Brahmins,
believing in Vishnu, the sun god; Shiva, the personification of
nature; and Brahma, the head of priests and rulers. But how do Brahma,
Shiva, and Vishnu regard India, now completely Anglicised, with
hundreds of steamers darting and screaming along the holy waters of
the Ganges, frightening the birds and beasts and faithful followers of
the gods dwelling along the banks?
The landscape passed rapidly by, and was occasionally hidden by the
stream. The travellers could now discern the fort of Chunar, twenty
miles south-west of Benares; then Ghazipore and its important
rose-water manufactories came in sight; then they caught a glimpse of
the tomb of Lord Cornwallis, which rises on the left bank of the
river; then the fortified town of Buxar; Patna, the great commercial
city and principal opium-market of India; Monghir, an European town,
as English as Manchester or Birmingham, with its foundries, factories,
and tall chimneys vomiting forth volumes of black smoke.
Night fell, and still the train rushed on, in the midst of the roaring
and growling of wild animals, which fled from the advancing
locomotive. Nothing could of course then be seen of those wonders of
Bengal, Golconda, the ruins of Gom, and Morschabad, Burdwan, the
ancient capital, Hooghly, Chandernagore, in French territory, where
Passe-partout would have been glad to see his country's ensign.
At last, at seven o'clock in the morning, they reached Calcutta. The
steamer for Hong Kong was not to leave till mid-day, so Phileas Fogg
had still five hours to spare.
According to his journal, he was due at Calcutta on the 25th
October--twenty-three days from London; and at Calcutta he was as
arranged. He had neither gained nor lost so far. Unfortunately, the
two days he had had to spare he spent as we have seen while crossing
the peninsula; but we must not suppose that Phileas Fogg regretted his
actions for a moment.