"It is a story which everybody in Bundelcund knows," replied the guide.
"But this unfortunate did not seem to make any resistance," remarked Sir Francis Cromarty.
"Because she was intoxicated with the fumes of hemp and opium."
"But where are they taking her?"
"To the pagoda of Pillaji, two miles from here. There she will pass the night in waiting for the sacrifice."
"And this sacrifice will take place———?"
"At the first appearance of day."
After this answer, the guide brought the elephant out of the dense thicket, and jumped on his neck. But at the moment that he was going to start him off by a peculiar whistle, Mr. Fogg stopped him and addressing Sir Francis Cromarty, said: "If we could save this woman!"
"Save this woman, Mr. Fogg!" cried the brigadier general.
"I have still twelve hours to spare. I can devote them to her."
"Why, you are a man of heart!" said Sir Francis Cromarty.
"Sometimes," replied Phileas Fogg simply, "when I have time."
CHAPTER XIII
IN WHICH PASSEPARTOUT PROVES AGAIN THAT FORTUNE SMILES UPON THE BOLD
The design was bold, full of difficulties, perhaps impracticable. Mr. Fogg was going to risk his life, or at least his liberty, and consequently the success of his plans, but he did not hesitate. He found, besides, a decided ally in Sir Francis Cromarty. As to Passepartout, he was ready and could be depended upon. His master's idea excited him. He felt that there was a heart and soul under this icy covering. He almost loved Phileas Fogg.
Then there was the guide. What part would he take in the matter? Would he not be with the Indians? In default of his aid, it was at least necessary to be sure of his neutrality. Sir Francis Cromarty put the question to him frankly.
