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In the semi-obscurity 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.
At this moment Sir Francis and the guide seized Phileas Fogg, who,
in an instant of mad generosity, was about to rush upon the pyre.
But he had quickly pushed them aside, when the whole scene suddenly changed.
A cry of terror arose. The whole multitude prostrated themselves,
terror-stricken, 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, which only
heightened his ghostly appearance.
Fakirs and soldiers and priests, seized with instant terror,
lay there, with their faces on the ground, not daring to lift
their eyes and behold such a prodigy.
The inanimate victim was borne along by the vigorous arms which
supported her, and which she did not seem in the least to burden.
Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis stood erect, the Parsee bowed his head,
and Passepartout was, no doubt, scarcely less stupefied.
The resuscitated rajah approached Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg,
and, in an abrupt tone, said, "Let us be off!"
It was Passepartout himself, who had slipped upon the pyre
in the midst of the smoke and, profiting by the still
overhanging darkness, had delivered the young woman from death!
It was Passepartout who, playing his part with a happy audacity,
had passed through the crowd amid the general terror.
A moment after all four of the party had disappeared in the woods,
and the elephant was bearing them away at a rapid pace. But the cries
and noise, and a ball which whizzed through Phileas Fogg's hat,
apprised them that the trick had been discovered.
The old rajah's body, indeed, now appeared upon the burning pyre;
and the priests, recovered from their terror, perceived that an abduction
had taken place. They hastened into the forest, followed by the soldiers,
who fired a volley after the fugitives; but the latter rapidly increased
the distance between them, and ere long found themselves beyond the reach
of the bullets and arrows.
Chapter XIV
IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG DESCENDS THE WHOLE LENGTH OF THE BEAUTIFUL
VALLEY OF THE GANGES WITHOUT EVER THINKING OF SEEING IT
The rash exploit had been accomplished; and for an hour
Passepartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis pressed
the worthy fellow's hand, and his master said, "Well done!" which,
from him, was high commendation; to which Passepartout replied
that all the credit of the affair belonged to Mr. Fogg. As for him,
he had only been struck with a "queer" idea; and he laughed
to think that for a few moments he, Passepartout, the ex-gymnast,
ex-sergeant fireman, had been the spouse of a charming woman,
a venerable, embalmed rajah! As for the young Indian woman,
she had been unconscious throughout of what was passing, and now,
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