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

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СКАЧАТЬ his master, and a third passenger occupied a seat opposite to them. This was Sir Francis Cromarty[60], one of Mr. Fogg’s whist partners on the Mongolia, now on his way to join his corps at Benares[61]. Sir Francis was a tall, fair man of fifty. He made India his home, only paying brief visits to England at rare intervals; and was almost as familiar as a native with the customs, history, and character of India and its people. But Phileas Fogg, who was not travelling, but only describing a circumference, did not inquire into these subjects; he was a solid body, traversing an orbit around the terrestrial globe, according to the laws of rational mechanics.

      Sir Francis Cromarty had observed the oddity of his travelling companion, and questioned himself whether a human heart really beat beneath this cold exterior, and whether Phileas Fogg had any sense of the beauties of nature.

      Phileas Fogg had not concealed from Sir Francis his plan of going round the world, nor the circumstances under which he set out; and the general only saw in the wager a useless eccentricity and a lack of common sense.

      Passepartout, on waking and looking out, could not realise that he was actually crossing India in a railway train. The travellers crossed the fatal country so often stained with blood by the sectaries of the goddess Kali[62]. Not far off rose Ellora[63], with its graceful pagodas, and the famous Aurungabad[64].

      At half-past twelve the train stopped at Burhampoor[65], where Passepartout was able to purchase some Indian slippers, ornamented with false pearls.

      The train stopped, at eight o’clock, in the midst of a glade some fifteen miles beyond Rothal, where there were several bungalows, and workmen’s cabins. The conductor, passing along the carriages, shouted, “Passengers will get out here!”

      Phileas Fogg looked at Sir Francis Cromarty for an explanation; but the general could not tell what meant a halt in the midst of this forest of dates and acacias.

      Passepartout, not less surprised, rushed out and speedily returned, crying: “Monsieur, no more railway!”

      “What do you mean?” asked Sir Francis.

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

      The general at once stepped out, while Phileas Fogg calmly followed him, and they proceeded together to the conductor.

      “Where are we?” asked Sir Francis.

      “At the hamlet of Kholby[66].”

      “Do we stop here?”

      “Certainly. The railway isn’t finished.”

      “What! Not finished?”

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

      “But the papers announced the opening of the railway throughout.”

      “What would you have, officer? The papers were mistaken.”

      “Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta,” retorted Sir Francis, who was growing warm.

      “No doubt,” 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, this is a delay greatly to your disadvantage.”

      “No, Sir Francis; it was foreseen.”

      “What! You knew that the way—”

      “Not at all; but I knew that some obstacle or other would 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.”

      The greater part of the travellers were aware of this interruption, and, leaving the train, they began to engage such vehicles as the village could provide wagons drawn by zebus, carriages that looked like pagodas, palanquins, ponies, and what not.

      Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, after searching the village from end to end, came back without having found anything.

      “I shall go afoot,” said Phileas Fogg.

      Passepartout, after a moment’s hesitation, said,

      “Monsieur, I think I have found a means of conveyance.”

      “What?”

      “An elephant! An elephant that belongs to an Indian who lives but 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[67]—this was the name of the beast—could travel rapidly for a long time, and 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, offering the excessive sum of ten pounds an hour for the loan of the beast to Allahabad. Refused. Twenty pounds? Refused also. Forty pounds? Still refused.

      Phileas Fogg, without getting in the least flurried, 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 comparatively easy. A young Parsee, with an intelligent face, offered his services, which Mr. Fogg accepted. The elephant was led out and equipped. The Parsee, who was an accomplished elephant driver, covered his back with a sort of saddle-cloth, and attached to each of his flanks some curiously uncomfortable howdahs. Phileas Fogg paid the Indian with some banknotes which he extracted from the famous carpet-bag.

      Provisions were purchased at Kholby, and, while Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg took the howdahs on either side, Passepartout got astride the saddle-cloth between them. The Parsee perched himself on the elephant’s neck, and at nine o’clock they set out from the village, the animal marching off through the dense forest of palms.

      Chapter XII

      At eleven o’clock guide stopped the elephant, and gave him an hour for rest. Neither Sir Francis nor Mr. Fogg regretted the delay, and both descended with a feeling of relief.

      At noon the Parsee gave the signal of departure. The English СКАЧАТЬ