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

© Матвеев С. А., адаптация текста, комментарии, словарь

© ООО «Издательство АСТ», 2021

Jules Verne
Around the world in eighty days

Chapter I

Mr. Phileas Fogg[1] was an Englishman and lived in London. He was a noticeable member of the Reform Club[2]. He did not go to the Change[3], nor to the Bank, nor to the “City”. He did not have ships at London docks; he had no public employment; his voice did not resound in the Court of Chancery[4]. He certainly was not a manufacturer; he wasn’t a merchant or a farmer. His name was strange to the scientific and learned societies. He did not belong to the numerous societies in the English capital. Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.

Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who knew him could not imagine how he made his fortune[5]. Mr. Fogg was not lavish, nor, on the contrary, avaricious. If money was needed for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it quietly and sometimes anonymously. He talked very little. His daily habits were quite open to observation.

Did he travel? It was likely, for no one knew the world more familiarly. He liked to read the papers and play whist. He often won at this game, which harmonised with his nature. But his winnings never went into his purse. They were reserved as a fund for his charities. Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but to play. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty.

Phileas Fogg had no wife or children. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row. He breakfasted and dined at the club, at fixed hours, in the same room, at the same table. He never took his meals with[6] other members. He went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at once to bed. He passed ten hours out of the twenty-four in Saville Row. The mansion in Saville Row was exceedingly comfortable. Phileas Fogg required his servant to be very prompt and regular. On the 2nd of October he dismissed James Forster[7], because that luckless youth brought him shaving-water at eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit[8] instead of eighty-six[9]. He was awaiting his successor, who was due at the house between eleven and half-past.

Phileas Fogg sat squarely in his armchair, his feet close together, his hands on his knees, his body straight, his head erect. He was steadily watching a complicated clock which indicated the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the days, the months, and the years. A rap sounded on the door of the cosy apartment where Phileas Fogg sat. James Forster, the dismissed servant, appeared.

“The new servant,” said he.

A young man advanced and bowed[10]. He was about thirty years old.

“You are a Frenchman, I think,” asked Phileas Fogg, “and your name is John?”

“Jean, if monsieur pleases,” replied the newcomer, “Jean Passepartout[11]. I had several trades. I was an itinerant singer[12], a circus-rider[13], when I danced on a rope. Then I was a professor of gymnastics; and then I was a sergeant fireman[14] at Paris. But I quitted France five years ago, and took service as a valet here in England.”

“Passepartout,” responded Mr. Fogg, “I heard a good report of you. You know my conditions?”

“Yes, monsieur.”

“Good! What time is it?”

“Twenty-two minutes after eleven,” returned Passepartout. He drew an enormous silver watch from the depths of his pocket.

“Your watch is too slow,” said Mr. Fogg.

“Pardon me, monsieur, it is impossible.”

“Four minutes slow. No matter; it’s enough to mention the error. Now from this moment, twenty-nine minutes after eleven, a.m., this Wednesday, 2nd October, you are in my service.”

Phileas Fogg got up, took his hat in his left hand, put it on his head with an automatic motion, and went off without a word. Passepartout remained alone in the house in Saville Row.

Chapter II

“Oh,” muttered Passepartout, “I saw people at Madame Tussaud’s[15] as lively as my new master!” (Madame Tussaud’s “people” are of wax).

Mr. Fogg was a perfect Englishman. He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and was economical. He always went to his destination by the short cut; he made no superfluous gestures, and was never moved or agitated. He was the most deliberate person in the world. He lived alone, and outside of every social relation.

As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris[16]. He abandoned[17] his own country for England, took service as a valet. Passepartout was an honest fellow, with a pleasant face, soft-mannered and serviceable, with a good round head. His eyes were blue, his complexion rubicund, his figure almost portly and well-built, his body muscular, and his physical powers fully developed by the exercises.

Passepartout heard that Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant. He was sure that this was the place for him. He presented himself, and was accepted.

At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself alone[18] in the house in Saville Row. He began its inspection[19] without delay. The clean, well-arranged, solemn mansion pleased him. It seemed to him like a snail’s shell, lighted and warmed by gas. He suddenly observed a card – a programme of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the morning: exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club – all the details of service, the tea and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the shaving-water at thirty-seven minutes past nine, and the toilet at twenty minutes before ten. Everything was regulated.

“This is just what I wanted! – said Passepartout – Mr. Fogg is a domestic and regular gentleman! A real machine!”

Chapter III

Phileas Fogg shut the door of his house at half-past eleven, and reached the Reform Club, and took his place at the habitual table[20]. He rose at thirteen minutes to one, and directed his steps towards the large hall. Half an hour later several members of the Reform came in and drew up to the fireplace. They were Mr. Fogg’s usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart[21], an engineer; John Sullivan[22] and Samuel Fallentin[23], bankers; Thomas Flanagan[24], a brewer; and Gauthier Ralph[25], one of the Directors of the Bank of England-all rich and highly respectable personages.

“Well, Ralph,” said Thomas Flanagan, “what about that robbery?”

“Oh,” replied Stuart, “the Bank will lose the money.”

“No,” broke in Ralph, “I hope we may put our hands on the robber. Skilful detectives are in all principal ports of America and the Continent. The criminal will be a clever fellow if he slips through their fingers.”

“Do you have the robber’s description?” asked Stuart.

“First, he is no robber at all,” returned Ralph, positively.

“What! a fellow who makes off[26] fifty-five thousand pounds, no robber?”

“No.”

“Perhaps he’s a manufacturer, then.”

“The Daily Telegraph[27] says that he is a gentleman.”

Phileas Fogg bowed to his friends, and entered into the conversation. The affair occurred three days before at the Bank of England. A package of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, disappeared from the principal cashier’s[28] table, who was registering the receipt of three shillings and sixpence. Of course, he can’t notice everything. And the Bank of England has no guards to protect its treasures.

When the robbery was discovered, many detectives ran to Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez, Brindisi, New York[29], and other ports. The reward was two thousand pounds, and five per cent on the sum! Detectives were watching those who arrived at or left London.

As the Daily Telegraph said, the thief did not belong to a professional band. On the day of the robbery a well-dressed gentleman of polished manners[30] was in the paying room. His description was sent to the detectives. Everywhere people were discussing the probabilities of a successful pursuit. The Reform Club was especially agitated.

“I think,” said Stuart, “that the chances are in favour of[31] the thief. He must be a shrewd[32] fellow.”

“Well, but where will he go?” asked Ralph. “No country is safe for him.”

“Oh, I don’t know that. The world is big enough.”

“It was once,” said Phileas Fogg.

“What do you mean by `once`? Is the world small now?”

“Certainly,” returned Ralph. “I agree with Mr. Fogg. The world is small now. A man can now go round it ten times more quickly than a hundred years ago. And that is why the search for this thief will succeed.”

“And also why the thief can get away more easily.”

Stuart said eagerly:

“Is the world small indeed? Because you can go round it in three months…”

“In eighty days,” interrupted Phileas Fogg.

“That is true, gentlemen,” added John Sullivan. “Only eighty days. Here is the estimate made by the Daily Telegraph:

From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and Brindisi[33], by rail and steamboats – 7 days

From Suez to Bombay[34], by steamer – 13”

From Bombay to Calcutta[35], by rail – 3”

From Calcutta to Hong Kong[36], by steamer – 13”

From Hong Kong to Yokohama[37] (Japan), by steamer – 6”

From Yokohama to San Francisco, by steamer – 22”

From San Francisco to New York, by rail – 7”

From New York to London, by steamer and rail – 9”

Total – 80 days.”

“Yes, in eighty days!” exclaimed Stuart. “But think about bad weather, contrary winds, shipwrecks, railway accidents, and so on. The Hindoos or Indians can stop the trains, pillage the luggage-vans[38], and scalp the passengers.”

“All included[39],” returned Phileas Fogg.

“You are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but practically-”

“Practically also, Mr. Stuart. Shall we go?”

“No! But I will wager four thousand pounds that such a journey, made under these conditions, is impossible.”

“Quite possible, on the contrary,” returned Mr. Fogg.

“Well, make it, then!”

“The journey round the world in eighty days?”

“Yes. When?”

“At once. Only I warn you that you pay for it.”

“It’s absurd!” cried Stuart, who was annoyed at the persistency of his friend. “Come, let’s play. Mr. Fogg, I will wager the four thousand on it.”

“My dear Stuart,” said Fallentin. “It’s only a joke.”

“When I say I’ll wager,” returned Stuart, “I mean it.”

“All right,” said Mr. Fogg; and continued: “I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring’s[40] which I will willingly risk upon it.”

“Twenty thousand pounds!” cried Sullivan. “Twenty thousand pounds, which you will lose by a single accidental delay!”

“No,” quietly replied Phileas Fogg.

“But, Mr. Fogg, in order not to exceed it, you must jump from the trains upon the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains again – very fast.”

“I will jump.”

“You are joking.”

“A true Englishman doesn’t joke when he is talking about serious things,” replied Phileas Fogg, solemnly. “I will bet twenty thousand pounds against anyone who wants me to make the tour of the world in eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours, or a hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes. Do you accept?”

“We accept,” replied Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and Ralph.

“Good,” said Mr. Fogg. “The train leaves for Dover[41] at a quarter before nine. I will take it.”

“Tonight?” asked Stuart.

“Tonight,” returned Phileas Fogg.

He took out and consulted a pocket calender, and added,

“As today is Wednesday, the 2nd of October, I shall be in London in this very room of the Reform Club, on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine p.m.; or else the twenty thousand pounds will belong to you, gentlemen. Here is a cheque.”

Chapter IV

Phileas Fogg won twenty guineas at whist and left the Reform Club at twenty-five minutes past seven. Mr. Fogg entered his bedroom, and called out, “Passepartout!”

Passepartout did not reply.

“Passepartout!” repeated Mr. Fogg.

Passepartout appeared.

“I called you twice,” observed his master.

“But it is not midnight,” responded the other.

“I know it; I don’t blame you. We start for Dover and Calais in ten minutes.”

A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout’s round face. He did not comprehend his master.

“Monsieur will leave home?”

“Yes,” returned Phileas Fogg. “We will go round the world.”

Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his hands. He was stupefied.

“Round the world!” he murmured.

“In eighty days,” responded Mr. Fogg. “So no time to lose.”

“But the baggage?” gasped Passepartout.

“We’ll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag[42], with two shirts and three pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you. We’ll buy our clothes on the way.”

Passepartout tried to reply, but was silent. He went out, mounted to his own room, and fell into a chair. Around the world in eighty days! Was his master a fool? No. Was this a joke, then?

Eight o’clock. Passepartout packed the carpet-bag, carefully shut the door of his room, and descended to Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg was quite ready. He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped into it a roll of Bank of England notes.

“Didn’t you forget anything?” asked he.

“Nothing, monsieur.”

“Good! Take this carpet-bag. There are twenty thousand pounds in it.”

They then descended, and at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross[43]. The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes past eight. Passepartout followed his master, who was ready to enter the station, when a poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, approached, and mournfully asked for alms.

Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas and handed them to the beggar,

“Here, my good woman. I’m glad that I met you.”

Passepartout saw it; his master’s action touched his susceptible heart. Mr. Fogg bought two first-class tickets for Paris, and then perceived his five friends of the Reform.

“Well, gentlemen,” said he, “I go, you see; and you will be able to examine my passport when I get back.”

“Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg,” said Ralph politely. “We will trust your word.”

“You do not forget when you are in London again?” asked Stuart.

“In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen.”

Phileas Fogg and his servant sat in a first-class carriage at twenty minutes before nine. Five minutes later the whistle screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the station.

Chapter V

Phileas Fogg did not suspect that his departure from London created a lively sensation at the West End[44]. The news of the bet soon got into the papers throughout England. They talked, disputed, argued about his “tour of the world”. Many people shook their heads and declared against him. It was absurd, impossible – in this minimum of time! People in general thought him a lunatic, and blamed his Reform Club friends for this wager.

A few readers of the Daily Telegraph even dared to say, “Why not, after all? Stranger things happened.” Everybody knows that to bet is in the English temperament. Not only the members of the Reform, but the general public, made wagers for or against Phileas Fogg. He became a race-horse. But everybody was against Fogg, and the bets stood a hundred and fifty and two hundred to one.

A week after his departure an incident occurred. The commissioner of police was in his office at nine o’clock one evening, when the following telegraphic dispatch arrived:

“Suez to London.

Rowan, Commissioner of Police, Scotland Yard[45]:

I found the bank robber, Phileas Fogg. Send with out delay warrant of arrest[46] to Bombay.

Fix, Detective”.

The effect of this dispatch was instantaneous. The polished gentleman disappeared to give place to the bank robber. The mysterious habits of Phileas Fogg were recalled; his solitary ways, his sudden departure.

Chapter VI

The circumstances were as follows. The steamer Mongolia[47] plied regularly between Brindisi and Bombay via the Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest steamers.

Two men walked up and down the wharves, among the crowd of natives and strangers. One was the British consul at Suez. The other was a small personage, with a nervous, intelligent face and bright eyes. He was nervously paced up and down, and was unable to stand still for a moment. This was Fix, one of the detectives. Fix came from to catch the bank robber. It was his task to watch every passenger who arrived at Suez, and to follow up all suspicious characters. The detective hoped to obtain the splendid reward, and awaited with a feverish impatience, easy to understand, the arrival of the steamer Mongolia.

“So you say, consul,” said he, “that this steamer comes directly from Brindisi?”

“Directly from Brindisi. Have patience, Mr. Fix; it will not be late. But really, I don’t see how, from the description you have, you will be able to recognise your man, even if he is on board the Mongolia.”

“A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than recognises them. You must have a scent for them – hearing, seeing, and smelling. If my thief is on board, he’ll not slip through my fingers.”

“I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery.”

“A magnificent robbery, consul; fifty-five thousand pounds!”

“Mr. Fix,” said the consul, “I hope you’ll succeed; but what about your description?”

“Consul,” remarked the detective, dogmatically, “great robbers always resemble honest folks. To unmask honest countenances, it’s a difficult task, I admit.”

Soon Mongolia appeared. It brought many passengers, some of whom remained on deck. Fix carefully examined each face. Presently one of the passengers came up to him and politely asked about the English consulate. Fix instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance read the description of its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise nearly escaped him, for the description in the passport was identical with that of the bank robber from Scotland Yard.

“Is this your passport?” asked he.

“No, it’s my master’s.”

“And your master is…”

“He stayed on board.”

“But he must go to the consul’s in person.”

“Oh, is that necessary?”

“Quite indispensable.”

“And where is the consulate?”

“There, on the corner of the square,” said Fix.

“I’ll go and fetch my master.”

The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer.

Chapter VII

The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly came to the consul’s office.

“Consul,” said he, without preamble[48], “I think that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia.”

“Well, Mr. Fix,” replied the consul, “I want to see the rascal’s face; but perhaps he won’t come here. A robber doesn’t like to leave traces.”

“If he is shrewd, consul, he will come.”

“To have his passport visaed[49]?”

“Yes. And I hope you will not visa the passport.”

“Why not? If the passport is genuine[50] I have no right to refuse.”

“Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest him from London.”

“Ah, that’s your business. But I cannot…”

The consul did not finish his sentence. They heard a knock at the door, and two strangers entered. One of whom was the servant. The other was his master, and held out his passport. The consul took the document and carefully read it.

“You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?” said the consul.

“I am.”

“And this man is your servant?”

“He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout.”

“You are from London?”

“Yes.”

“And you are going…”

“To Bombay.”

“Very good, sir. You know that a visa is useless, and that no passport is required?”

“I know it, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg; “but I wish to prove, by your visa, that I came by Suez.”

“Very well, sir.”

The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he added his official seal. Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee and went out. His servant followed him.

“Well?” queried[51] the detective.

“Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man,” replied the consul.

“Possibly. Do you think, consul, that this phlegmatic gentleman resembles the robber?”

“I concede that; but then, you know…”

“I’ll see,” interrupted Fix. “The servant is less mysterious than the master. Besides, he’s a Frenchman, and likes to talk. Excuse me, consul.”

Chapter VIII

Fix soon rejoined Passepartout on the quay.

“Well, my friend,” said the detective, “is your passport visaed?”

“Ah, it’s you, monsieur?” responded Passepartout. “Thanks, yes, the passport is all right. We travel so fast! So this is Suez?”

“Yes.”

“In Egypt?”

“Certainly, in Egypt.”

“And in Africa?”

“In Africa.”

“In Africa!” repeated Passepartout.

“You are in a great hurry, then?”

“I am not, but my master is. I must buy some shoes and shirts. We came away only with a carpet-bag.”

“I will show you an excellent shop.”

“Really, monsieur, you are very kind.”

And they walked off together. After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed:

“You left London hastily, then?”

“I think so! Last Friday at eight o’clock in the evening, Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour afterwards we were off.”

“But where will your master go?”

“Always straight ahead, round the world.”

“Round the world?” cried Fix.

“Yes, and in eighty days! He says it is on a wager; but I don’t believe it. There’s something else.”

“Ah! Is Mr. Fogg rich?”

“No doubt. He carries new banknotes with him. And he offered a large reward to the engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to Bombay very fast.”

“Do you know your master well?”

“No; I entered his service the very day we left London.”

The hasty departure from London soon after the robbery; the large sum that Mr. Fogg had; his eagerness[52] to reach distant countries-all confirmed Fix in his theory. He continued to ask poor Passepartout, and learned that he really knew little or nothing of his master, who lived in London, was rich, and was mysterious. Phileas Fogg won’t land at Suez, but will go to Bombay.

“Is Bombay far from here?” asked Passepartout.

“Yes. Ten days’ voyage by sea.”

“And in what country is Bombay?”

“India.”

“In Asia?”

“Certainly.”

Fix and Passepartout reached the shop, where Fix left his companion and hurried back to the consulate. Now he was fully convinced.

“Consul,” said he, “I have no doubt. That man wants to go round the world in eighty days.”

“Then he’s a smart fellow,” returned the consul.

Fix reported in a few words the most important parts of his conversation with Passepartout.

“So,” said the consul, “what will you do?”

“I’ll send a dispatch to London, follow my rogue to India, and there, on English ground, arrest him.”

Chapter IX

The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and ten miles. Many passengers from Brindisi were going to Bombay, others for Calcutta. Phileas Fogg seldom went upon the deck, and he played whist. Passepartout escaped sea-sickness, and rather enjoyed the voyage.

“Oh,” said Passepartout when he approached, “you are the gentleman who met me at Suez?”

“Ah! I quite recognise you. You are the servant of the strange Englishman.”

“Just so, monsieur…”

“Fix.”

“Monsieur Fix,” resumed Passepartout, “Where are you going?”

“Like you, to Bombay.”

“That’s great! Do you know India?”

“Yes,” replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.

“A curious place, this India?”

“Oh, very curious. Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas, tigers, snakes, elephants! And how is Mr. Fogg?” asked Fix.

“Quite well, and I too.”

“But I never see your master on deck.”

After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix talked much. Meanwhile the Mongolia went rapidly, and instead of the 15th, arrived to Aden on the evening of the 14th. Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to visa the passport. Fix followed them. Then Mr. Fogg returned on board. Passepartout sauntered about among the mixed population of Somalis, Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans.

“Very curious, very curious,” said Passepartout to himself.

On Sunday, October 20th, towards noon, they saw the Indian coast. The Mongolia was at Bombay on the 20th.

Chapter X

India embraces fourteen hundred thousand square miles, its population is one hundred and eighty millions people. But British India only embraces seven hundred thousand square miles, and its population is from one hundred to one hundred and ten millions of inhabitants. A considerable portion of India is still free from British authority; and there are certain ferocious rajahs who are absolutely independent.

The passengers of the Mongolia went ashore at half-past four p.m. At eight the train will start for[53] Calcutta. Mr. Fogg left the steamer, gave his servant several errands and directed his steps to the passport office. He did not care for the wonders of Bombay-its famous city hall, its splendid library, its forts and docks, its bazaars, mosques, synagogues, its Armenian churches, and the noble pagoda on Malabar Hill[54].

Then Phileas Fogg repaired quietly to the railway station, where he ordered dinner. Among the dishes, the landlord especially recommended a “native rabbit”. Mr. Fogg accordingly tasted the dish, but found it horrible. He rang for the landlord, and, on his appearance, said,

“Is this rabbit, sir?”

“Yes, my lord,” the rogue boldly replied, “rabbit from the jungles.”

“And this rabbit did not mew when they killed it?”

“Mew, my lord! What, a rabbit can’t mew! I swear to you…”

“Landlord, remember this: in India, cats were sacred animals. That was a good time.”

“For the cats, my lord?”

“Perhaps for the travelers as well!”

Fix went on shore shortly after Mr. Fogg. His first destination was the Bombay police. He nervously asked if a warrant arrived from London. It did not reach the office. Fix was disappointed, and tried to obtain an order of arrest from the director of the Bombay police. The director refused.

Passepartout, however, purchased shirts and shoes and took a leisurely promenade about the streets. It was the day of a Parsee festival[55]. These descendants of the sect of Zoroaster[56] were celebrating a religious carnival, with processions and shows.

Unhappily for his master, Passepartout’s curiosity drew him very far. He saw the splendid pagoda on Malabar Hill. He was quite ignorant that it is forbidden to Christians to enter certain Indian temples, and that even the faithful must go in without their shoes.

Passepartout, however, went in like a simple tourist. He admired the splendid Brahmin ornamentation, but suddenly found himself on the sacred floor. He beheld three enraged priests, who tore off his shoes, and began to beat him with loud, savage exclamations. The agile Frenchman was soon upon his feet again, and ran away. Of course, he lost his package of shirts and shoes.

At five minutes before eight, Passepartout, hatless, shoeless rushed breathlessly into the station. Fix, who followed Mr. Fogg and saw that he was really going to leave Bombay, was there, upon the platform. He resolved to follow the supposed robber to Calcutta, and farther, if necessary. Passepartout did not observe the detective, who stood in an obscure corner.

“I hope that this will not happen again,” said Phileas Fogg coldly, as he got into the train.

Poor Passepartout followed his master without a word. Fix wanted to enter another carriage, when an idea came to him.

“No, I’ll stay,” muttered he.

Just then the locomotive gave a sharp screech, and the train passed out into the darkness of the night.

Chapter XI

There were many officers, government officials, and opium and indigo merchants among the passengers. They all went to the eastern coast. Passepartout rode in the same carriage with his master, and a third passenger occupied a seat[57] opposite to them. This was Sir Francis Cromarty[58], one of Mr. Fogg’s whist partners on the Mongolia. He wanted to join his corps at Benares[59]. Sir Francis was a tall, fair man of fifty. He made India his home. He was almost familiar with the customs, history and character of India and its people. But Phileas Fogg did not inquire into these subjects.

Sir Francis Cromarty observed the oddity of his companion. Phileas Fogg did not conceal from Sir Francis his plan, nor all the circumstances. The general saw in the wager a useless eccentricity and a lack of common sense.

Passepartout did not realise that he was actually crossing India in a railway train. The travelers crossed the country of the goddess Kali[60]. Not far off rose Ellora[61], with its graceful pagodas, and the famous Aurungabad[62].

At half-past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor[63] where Passepartout was able to purchase some Indian slippers, ornamented with false pearls.

At eight o’clock the train stopped in the midst of a glade – fifteen miles beyond Rothal, where there were several bungalows, and workmen’s cabins. The conductor shouted,

“Passengers will get out here!”

Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an explanation; but the general did not tell what that meant. Passepartout rushed out and speedily returned. He cried,

“Monsieur, no more railway!”

“What do you mean?” asked Sir Francis.

“I mean to say that the train isn’t going on.”

The general stepped out, while Phileas Fogg calmly followed him. They proceeded together to the conductor.

“Where are we?” asked Sir Francis.

“At the hamlet of Kholby[64].”

“Do we stop here?”

“Certainly. The railway isn’t finished.”

“What! not finished?”

“No. There’s still fifty miles from here to Allahabad, where the line begins again.”

“But the papers announced the railway.”

“So what, officer? The papers were mistaken.”

“Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta,” retorted Sir Francis.

“No doubt[65],” replied the conductor; “but the passengers know that they must provide means of transportation for themselves from Kholby to Allahabad.”

Sir Francis was furious. Passepartout did not dare to look at his master.

“Sir Francis,” said Mr. Fogg quietly, “we will, if you please, look about for some means of conveyance to Allahabad.”

“Mr. Fogg, what a delay!”

“No, Sir Francis; it’s nothing.”

“What! You knew that the way…”

“Not at all; but I know that some obstacle or other will sooner or later arise on my route. Nothing, therefore, is lost. I have two days to sacrifice. A steamer leaves Calcutta for Hong Kong at noon, on the 25th. This is the 22nd, and we shall reach Calcutta in time.”

Many travelers were aware of this interruption, and they began to engage wagons, carriages, palanquins, ponies, and so on. Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty did not find anything.

“I shall walk,” said Phileas Fogg.

Passepartout said,

“Monsieur, I think I found something.”

“What?”

“An elephant! An elephant that belongs to an Indian who lives a hundred steps from here.”

“Let’s go and see the elephant,” replied Mr. Fogg.

They soon reached a small hut. An Indian came out of the hut. His elephant was half domesticated. Kiouni[66]-this was the name of the beast-could travel rapidly for a long time. Mr. Fogg resolved to hire him. But elephants are not cheap in India. When Mr. Fogg proposed to the Indian to hire Kiouni, he refused. Mr. Fogg persisted. Ten pounds an hour for the loan of the beast to Allahabad? Refused. Twenty pounds? Refused also. Forty pounds? Still refused.

Phileas Fogg then proposed to purchase the animal, and at first offered a thousand pounds for him. The Indian still refused. His small, sharp eyes were glistening with avarice. Mr. Fogg offered first twelve hundred, then fifteen hundred, eighteen hundred, two thousand pounds. At two thousand pounds the Indian yielded.

“What a price, good heavens!” cried Passepartout, “for an elephant.”

It only remained now to find a guide, which was easy. A young Parsee, with an intelligent face, offered his services, which Mr. Fogg accepted. The Parsee, a good elephant driver, covered the elephant’s back with a saddle-cloth, and attached to each of his flanks some uncomfortable howdahs. Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with some banknotes which he extracted from the famous carpet-bag.

They purchased provisions at Kholby. The Parsee perched himself on the elephant’s neck, and at nine o’clock they left the village. The animal marched through the dense forest of palms.

Chapter XII

At eleven o’clock the guide stopped the elephant, and gave it an hour for rest. Neither Sir Francis nor Mr. Fogg regretted the delay.

At noon the Parsee gave the signal of departure. The travelers several times saw bands of ferocious Indians. The Parsee avoided them as much as possible. But what will Mr. Fogg do with the elephant when he gets to Allahabad? Will he carry it on with him? Impossible! The cost will be very expensive. Will he sell it, or set it free?

The night was cold. The Parsee lit a fire in the bungalow with a few dry branches. The warmth was very grateful. The travelers ate their supper ravenously.

At six o’clock in the morning they woke up. The guide hoped to reach Allahabad by evening. The guide avoided inhabited places. Allahabad was now only twelve miles to the north-east. They stopped under a clump of bananas, the fruit of which was as healthy as bread and as succulent as cream.

At two o’clock the guide entered a thick forest. The elephant suddenly stopped. It was then four o’clock.

“What’s the matter?” asked Sir Francis.

“I don’t know, officer,” replied the Parsee.

He listened attentively to a murmur which came through the thick branches. The murmur soon became more distinct. It now seemed like a distant concert of human voices with brass instruments. Mr. Fogg patiently waited without a word. The Parsee jumped to the ground, fastened the elephant to a tree. He soon returned:

“A procession of Brahmins is coming this way. We must go aside, if possible.”

The guide unloosed the elephant and led him into the wood. The discordant tones of the voices and instruments drew nearer, and the songs mingled with the sound of the tambourines and cymbals. The head of the procession soon appeared beneath the trees, a hundred paces away. The strange figures who performed the religious ceremony were among the branches. First came the priests, in long robes, with mitres on their heads. Men, women, and children surrounded them. They sang a lugubrious psalm and played tambourines and cymbals. Behind them there was a car[67] with large wheels. The spokes of the car represented serpents. Upon the car, stood a hideous statue with four arms, red body, haggard eyes, dishevelled hair, and protruding tongue.

Sir Francis recognised the statue and whispered,

“The goddess Kali; the goddess of love and death.”

“Of death, perhaps,” muttered Passepartout, “but of love-that ugly old hag? Never!”

A group of old fakirs made a wild ado round the statue. Some Brahmins led a woman who faltered at every step. 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. She had a light muslin robe on.

The guards who followed the young woman were bearing a corpse on a palanquin. It was the body of an old man. Next came the musicians. Sir Francis watched the procession with a sad countenance, and said,

“A suttee[68].”

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. Phileas Fogg asked:

“What is a suttee?”

“A suttee,” returned the general, “is a human sacrifice, but a voluntary one. This woman will be burned tomorrow at the dawn of day.”

“Oh, the scoundrels!” cried Passepartout.

“And the corpse?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“It is the prince, her husband,” said the guide; “an independent rajah of Bundelcund[69].”

“Is it possible,” resumed Phileas Fogg, “that these barbarous customs still exist in India, and that the English are unable to stop them?”

“These sacrifices do not occur in the larger portion of India,” replied Sir Francis; “but we have no power over these savage territories, and especially here in Bundelcund.”

“The poor wretch!” exclaimed Passepartout, “they will burn her alive!”

“Yes,” returned Sir Francis, “alive. And the sacrifice that 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 resist,” observed Sir Francis.

“That was because they intoxicated her with fumes of hemp and opium.”

“But where are they taking her?”

“To the pagoda of Pillaji[70], two miles from here; she will pass the night there.”

“And the sacrifice will take place…”

“Tomorrow, at the first light of dawn.”

The guide wanted to urge Kiouni forward with a peculiar whistle. But Mr. Fogg stopped him, and turned to Sir Francis Cromarty,

“Let’s save this woman.”

“Save the woman, Mr. Fogg!”

“I have twelve hours; I can devote them to that.”

“Why, you are a man of heart!”

“Sometimes,” replied Phileas Fogg, quietly; “when I have the time.”

Chapter XIII

The project was bold, full of difficulty, perhaps impracticable. Mr. Fogg was going to risk life, or at least liberty, and therefore the success of his tour. As for Passepartout, his master’s idea charmed him; he began to love Phileas Fogg.

“Officers,” said 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.”

“That is clear,” replied Mr. Fogg. “I think we must wait till night.”

“I think so,” said the guide.

The victim, said the Indian, was the daughter of a wealthy Bombay merchant. She received a good English education in that city. Her name was Aouda[71]. She was married against her will to the old rajah of Bundelcund. She escaped, they caught her and brought to the rajah’s relatives, who wanted her death.

What did the travelers decide? The guide will direct the elephant towards the pagoda of Pillaji. They halted, half an hour afterwards, in a coppice, five hundred feet from the pagoda. They were well concealed; but they heard the groans and cries of the fakirs distinctly.

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], 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].

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.

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Примечания

1

Phileas Fogg – Филеас Фогг

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2

Reform Club – Реформ-клуб

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3

Change – биржа

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4

Court of Chancery – Канцлерский суд

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5

he had made his fortune – он нажил своё состояние

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6

never took his meals with – никогда не угощал

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7

James Forster – Джеймс Фостер

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8

eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit – 84° по Фаренгейту (=28,89 °C)

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9

64 °F = 17,78 °C

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10

bowed – поклонился

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11

Jean Passepartout – Жан Паспарту

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12

itinerant singer – бродячий певец

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13

circus-rider – цирковой наездник

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14

sergeant fireman – старший пожарный

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15

Madame Tussaud’s – музей мадам Тюссо (музей восковых фигур в Лондоне)

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16

true Parisian of Paris – простой парижанин

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17

abandoned – покинул

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18

found himself alone – оказался один

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19

inspection – зд. осмотр

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20

at the habitual table – за привычным столом

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21

Andrew Stuart – Эндрю Стюарт

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22

John Sullivan – Джон Салливан

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23

Samuel Fallentin – Сэмюэл Фаллентин

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24

Thomas Flanagan – Томас Флэнаган

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25

Gauthier Ralph – Готье Ральф

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26

to make off – стащить

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27

The Daily Telegraph – «Дэйли Телеграф» (название газеты)

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28

principal cashier’s – главный кассир

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29

Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez, Brindisi, New York – Ливерпуль, Глазго, Гавр, Суэц, Бриндизи, Нью-Йорк

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30

polished manner – прекрасные манеры

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31

in favour of – в пользу

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32

shrewd – хитрый

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33

from London to Suez via Mont Cenis and Brindisi – из Лондона в Суэц через Монт-Сенис и Бриндизи

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34

Bombay – Бомбей (город в Индии, современное название – Мумбай)

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35

Calcutta – Калькутта (город в Индии, современное название – Колката)

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36

Hong Kong – Гонконг

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37

Yokohama – Йокогама

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38

pillage the luggage-vans – разграбить вагоны

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39

All included. – Всё учтено.

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40

at Baring’s – в банке братьев Бэринг

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41

Dover – Дувр

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42

carpet-bag – саквояж

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43

Charing Cross – Чаринг-Кросс

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44

West End – Уэст-Энд (западная часть Лондона)

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45

Scotland Yard – Скотланд-Ярд (штаб-квартира полицейского учреждения в Англии)

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46

warrant of arrest – ордер на арест

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47

Mongolia – «Монголия» (название пакебота)

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48

without preamble – без предисловий

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49

to have his passport visaed – визировать свой паспорт

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50

genuine – подлинный

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51

queried – поинтересовался

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52

eagerness – стремление

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53

will start for – отправится

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54

Malabar Hill – Малабар-Хилл

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55

Parsee festival – праздник парсов

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56

Zoroaster – Заратуштра (основатель зороастризма)

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57

occupied a seat – занял место

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58

Francis Cromarty – Фрэнсис Кромарти

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59

Benares – Бенарес (город в Индии, современное название – Варанаси)

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60

Kali – Кали (богиня-разрушительница в индуизме)

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61

Ellora – Эллора

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62

Aurungabad – Аурунгабад

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63

Burhampoor – Бурхампур

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64

hamlet of Kholby – посёлок Кольби

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65

No doubt – Без сомнения

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66

Kiouni – Киуни

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67

car – колесница

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68

suttee – сати (похоронная ритуальная традиция в индуизме, в соответствии с которой вдова подлежит сожжению вместе с покойным супругом на специально сооружённом погребальном костре).

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69

Bundelcund – Бунделкханд

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70

Pillaji – Пилладжи

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71

Aouda – Ауда

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72

swung open – распахнулись

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73

took fire – загорелось

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