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1The guards who followed the young woman presented a violent contrast to her, armed as they were with naked sabres hung
2at their waists, and long damascened pistols, and bearing a corpse on a palanquin. It was the body of an old man,
3gorgeously arrayed in the habiliments of a rajah, wearing, as in life, a turban embroidered with pearls, a robe of
4tissue of silk and gold, a scarf of cashmere sewed with diamonds, and the magnificent weapons of a Hindoo prince. Next
5came the musicians and a rearguard of capering fakirs, whose cries sometimes drowned the noise of the instruments; these
6closed the procession. Sir Francis watched the procession with a sad countenance, and, turning to the guide, said, "A
7suttee." The Parsee nodded, and put his finger to his lips. The procession slowly wound under the trees, and soon its
8last ranks disappeared in the depths of the wood. The songs gradually died away; occasionally cries were heard in the
9distance, until at last all was silence again. Phileas Fogg had heard what Sir Francis said, and, as soon as the
10procession had disappeared, asked: "What is a suttee?" "A suttee," returned the general, "is a human sacrifice, but a
11voluntary one. The woman you have just seen will be burned to-morrow at the dawn of day." "Oh, the scoundrels!" cried
12Passepartout, who could not repress his indignation. "And the corpse?" asked Mr. Fogg. "Is that of the prince, her
13husband," said the guide; "an independent rajah of Bundelcund." "Is it possible," resumed Phileas Fogg, his voice
14betraying not the least emotion, "that these barbarous customs still exist in India, and that the English have been
15unable to put a stop to them?" "These sacrifices do not occur in the larger portion of India," replied Sir Francis; "but
16we have no power over these savage territories, and especially here in Bundelcund. The whole district north of the
17Vindhias is the theatre of incessant murders and pillage." "The poor wretch!" exclaimed Passepartout, "to be burned
18alive!" "Yes," returned Sir Francis, "burned alive. And, if she were not, you cannot conceive what treatment she would
19be obliged to submit to from her relatives. They would shave off her hair, feed her on a scanty allowance of rice, treat
20her with contempt; she would be looked upon as an unclean creature, and would die in some corner, like a scurvy dog. The
21prospect of so frightful an existence drives these poor creatures to the sacrifice much more than love or religious
22fanaticism. Sometimes, however, the sacrifice is really voluntary, and it requires the active interference of the
23Government to prevent it. Several years ago, when I was living at Bombay, a young widow asked permission of the governor
24to be burned along with her husband's body; but, as you may imagine, he refused. The woman left the town, took refuge
25with an independent rajah, and there carried out her self-devoted purpose." While Sir Francis was speaking, the guide
26shook his head several times, and now said: "The sacrifice which will take place to-morrow at dawn is not a voluntary
27one." "How do you know?" "Everybody knows about this affair in Bundelcund." "But the wretched creature did not seem to
28be making any resistance," observed Sir Francis. "That was because they had intoxicated her with fumes of hemp and
29opium." "But where are they taking her?" "To the pagoda of Pillaji, two miles from here; she will pass the night there."
30"And the sacrifice will take place--" "To-morrow, at the first light of dawn." The guide now led the elephant out of the
31thicket, and leaped upon his neck. Just at the moment that he was about to urge Kiouni forward with a peculiar whistle,
32Mr. Fogg stopped him, and, turning to Sir Francis Cromarty, said, "Suppose we save this woman." "Save the woman, Mr.
33Fogg!" "I have yet twelve hours to spare; I can devote them to that." "Why, you are a man of heart!" "Sometimes,"
34replied Phileas Fogg, quietly; "when I have the time."
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