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14 - Around The World in Eighty Days - Jules Verne · Thrilling Adventures - Daily

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  Chapter fourteen, in which Phileas Fogg descends the whole length of the beautiful valley
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  of the Ganges without ever thinking of seeing it. The rash exploit had been
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  accomplished, and for an hour Passpartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis
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  pressed the worthy fellow's hand, and his master said, well done, which
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  from him was high commendation, to which Passepartout replied that all the credit of
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  the affair belonged to mister Fogg, as for him he had only been struck
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  with a queer idea, and he laughed to think that for a few moments
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  he Passepartout the ex chimnast ex Sergeant Fireman had been the spouse of a charming
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  woman of Venerable embalmd Raja. As for the young Indian woman, she had
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  been unconscious throughout what was passing, and now wrapped up in a traveling blanket,
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  was reposing in one of the howda. The elephant, thanks to the
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  skillful guidance of the Parsi, was advancing rapidly through the still darksome forest,
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  and an hour after leaving the pagoda had crossed a vast plain. They made
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  a halt at seven o'clock. The young woman being still in a state of
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  complete prostration. The guide made her drink a little brandy in water, but
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  the drowsiness which stupefied her could not yet be shaken off. Sir Francis,
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  who was familiar with the effects of the intoxication produced by the fumes of hemp,
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  reassured his companions on her account, but he was more disturbed at the
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  prospect of her future fate. He told Phileas Fogg that should Aouda remain in
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  India, she would inevitably fall again into the hands of her executioners. These
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  fanatics were scattered throughout the country and would despite the English police recover their victim
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  at Madras, Bombay or Calcutta. She would only be safe by quitting India
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  forever. Phileas Fogg replied that he would reflect upon the matter. The station
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  at Allahabad was reached about ten o'clock, and the interrupted line of railway being
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  resumed would enable them to reach Calcutta in less than twenty four hours. Phileas
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  Fogg would thus be able to arrive in time to take the steamer which left
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  Calcutta the next day, October twenty fifth at noon for Hong Kong. The
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  young woman was placed in one of the waiting rooms of the station, whilst
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  pass Partout was charged with purchasing for her various articles of toilet, a dress,
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  shawl, and some furs, for which his master gave him unlimited credit.
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  Pass Partout started off forthwith and found himself in the streets of Allahabad,
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  that is, the city of God, one of the most venerated in India,
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  being built at the junction of the two sacred rivers Ganges and Jumna,
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  the waters of which attract pilgrims from every part of the peninsula the Ganges,
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  according to the legends of the Ramayana, whence, owing to Brahma's agency,
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  it descends to the earth. Passepartout made it a point as he made his
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  purchases to take a good look at the city. It was formerly defended by
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  a noble fort, which has since become a state prison. Its commerce has
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  dwindled away, and Passepartout in vain, looked about him for such a bazaar
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  as he used to frequent in Regent Street. At last he came upon an
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  elderly, crusty jew who sold second hand articles and from whom he purchased a
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  dress of scotch stuff, a large mantle, and a fine otterskin pelisse,
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  for which he did not hesitate to pay seventy five pounds. He then returned
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  triumphantly to the station. The influence to which the priests of Pelagi had subjected
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  Aouda began gradually to yield, and she became more herself, so that her
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  fine eyes resumed all their soft Indian expression. When the poet King ukaf Uddaal
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  celebrates the charms of the Queen of Amanagara, he speaks thus her shining tresses,
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  divided in two parts, encircled the harmonious contour of her white and delicate
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  cheeks, brilliant in their glow and freshness. Her ebony brows have the form
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  and charm of the bow of Karna, the god of Love, and beneath
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  her long silken lashes, the purest reflections and a celestial light swim as in
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  the sacred lakes of Himalaya, in the black pupils of her great clear eyes,
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  Her teeth fine equal, and white glitter between her smiling lips like dewdrops
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  in a passion flower's half enveloped breast, her delicately formed ears, her vermilion
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  hands, her little feet eat curved in slender as the lotus bud, glittered
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  with the brilliancy of the loveliest pearls of Ceylon, the most dazzling diamonds of
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  Golconda. Her narrow and supple waist, which a hand may clasp around,
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  sets forth the outline of her rounded figure, and the beauty of her bosom,
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  where youth in its flower displays the wealth of its treasures, and beneath
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  the silken folds of her tunic, she seems to have been modeled in pure
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  silver by the godlike hand of Vicvar Karma, the immortal sculptor. It is
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  enough to say, without applying this poetical rhapsoy to Aouda, that she was
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  a charming woman in all the European acceptation of the phrase. She spoke English
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  with great purity, and the guide had not exaggerated in saying that the young
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  Parsi had been transformed by her bringing up. The train was about to start
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  from Allahabad, and mister Fogg proceeded to pay the guide the price agreed upon
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  for his service, and not a farthing more, which astonished Passepartout, who
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  remembered all that his master owed to the guide's devotion. He had indeed risked
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  his life in the adventure at Pelagi, and if he should be caught afterwards
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  by the Indians, he would with difficulty escape their vengeance. Chilluni also must
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  be disposed of what should be done with the elephant which had been so dearly
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  purchased. Phileas Fogg had already determined this question, Parsi said he to the
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  guide, you have been serviceable and devoted. I have paid for your service,
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  but not for your devotion. Would you like to have this elephant?
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  He is yours? The guide's eyes glistened. Your honor is giving me a
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  fortune, cried he. Take him. Guide returned mister Fogg, and I
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  shall still be your debtor. Good, exclaimed Passepartout. Take him, friend,
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  Chiuni is brave and faith beast. And going up to the elephant,
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  he gave him several lumps of sugar, saying here, CuNi, here here.
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  The elephant grunted out his satisfaction, and clasping Passepartout around the waist with
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  his trunk, lifted him as high as his head. Passepartout, not in
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  the least alarmed, caressed the animal, which replaced him gently on the ground.
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  Soon after, Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty and Passepartout, installed in
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  a carriage with Aouda, who had the best seat, were whirling at full
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  speed towards Benares. It was a run of eighty miles and was accomplished in
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  two hours. During the journey, the young woman fully recovered her senses.
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  What was her astonishment to find herself in this carriage on the railway, dressed
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  in European abiliments and with travelers who were quite strangers to her. Her companions
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  first set about fully reviving her with a little liquor, and then Sir Francis
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  narrated to her what had passed, dwelling upon the courage with which Phileas Fogg
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  had not hesitated to risk his life to save her, and the recounting the
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  happy sequel of the venture, the result of Passepartout's rash idea. Mister Fogg
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  said nothing, while Passepartout abashed kept repeating that it wasn't worth telling. Aouda
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  pathetically thanked her deliverers rather with tears than words. Her fine eyes interpreted her
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  gratitude better than her lips. Then, as her thoughts strayed back to the
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  scene of the sacrifice and recalled the dangers which still menaced her, she shuddered
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  with terror. Phileas Fogg understood what was passing in Aouda's mind and offered,
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  in order to reassure her, to escort her to Hong Kong, where she
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  might remain safely until the affair was hushed up, an offer which she eagerly
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  and gratefully accepted. She had, it seems, a Parsi relation, who
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  was one of the principal merchants of Hong Kong, which is wholly an English
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  city, though on an island on the Chinese coast. At half past twelve,
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  the train stopped at Banars. The Brahmin legends assert that this city is
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  built on the side of the ancient Khasi, which, like Mahomet's tomb,
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  was once suspended between heaven and earth. Though the Banars of today, which
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  the Orientalists call the Athens of India, stands quite unpoetically on the solid earth.
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  Passepartout caught glimpses of its brick houses and clay huts, giving an aspect
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  of desolation to the place as the train entered it. Banarus was Sir Francis
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  Cromarty's destination. The troops he was rejoining being encamped some miles northward of the
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  city. He bade adieu to Vileas Fogg, wishing him all success and expressing
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  the hope that he would come that way again. In a less original,
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  but more profitable fashion. Mister Fogg lightly pressed him by the hand. The
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  parting of Aouda, who did not forget what she owed to Sir Francis betrayed
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  more warmth, and as for passepartout, he received a hearty shake of the
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  hand from the gallant general. The railway, on leaving Benares, passed for
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  a while along the valley of the Ganges. Through the windows of their carriage,
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  the travelers had glimpses of the diversified landscape of Bihar, with its mountains
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  clothed in verdure, its fields of barley, wheat and corn, its jungles
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  peopled with green alligators, its neat villages, and its still thickly leaved forests.
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  Elephants were bathing in the waters of the Sacred River, and groups of
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  Indians. Despite the advanced season and chilly air were performing solemnly their pious ablutions.
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  These were fervent Brahmins, the bitterest foes of Buddhism, their deity being
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  Vishnu, the solar god Shiva, the divine impersonation of natural forces am Brahma,
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  the supreme ruler of priests and legislators. What would these divinities think of
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  India, anglicized as it is to day, With steamers whistling and scudding along
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  the Ganges, frightening the gulls which float upon its surface, the turtles swarming
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  along its banks, and the faithful dwelling upon its borders. The panorama passed
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  before their eyes like a flash, save when the steam concealed it fitfully from
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  the view, the travelers could scarcely discern the fort of Chupenie, twenty miles
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  southwestward from Benaris, the ancient stronghold of the Rajas of Behar or Ghazipur and
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  its famous rose water factories, or the tomb of Lord cornwallis rising on the
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  left bank of the Ganges. The fortified town of Buksar or Patna, a
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  large manufacturing and trading place where is held the principal opium market of India or
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  Munghir, a more than European town, for it is as English as Manchester
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  or Birmingham, with its iron factories, edged tool factories, and high chimneys
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  puffing clouds of black smoke. Heavenward night came on. The train passed on
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  at full speed, in the midst of the roaring of the tigers, bears
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  and wolves which fled before the locomotive, and the marvels of Bengal Golconda ruined
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  Gower, Mrschetabad, the ancient capital Burdwan Hugli, and the French town of
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  Chandranagore, where Passepartout would have been proud to see his country's flag flying,
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  were hidden from their view in the darkness. Calcutta was reached at seven in
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  the morning, and the packet left for Hong Kong at noon, so that
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  Phileas Fogg had five hours before him. According to his journal, he was
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  due at Calcutta on the twenty fifth of October, and that was the exact
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  date of his actual arrival. He was therefore neither behindhand nor ahead of time.
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  The two days game between London and Bombay had been lost, as has
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  been seen in the journey across India. But it is not to be supposed
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  that Phileas Fogg regretted them end of chapter