a fine
animal;" and going up to the beast, he gave him some pieces of sugar,
saying, "Here, Kiouni, take this, and this."

The elephant gave vent to some grunts of satisfaction, and then
seizing Passe-partout by the waist with his trunk, he lifted him up.
Passe-partout, not in the least afraid, continued to caress the
animal, which replaced him gently on the ground, and to the pressure
of the honest Kiouni's trunk, Passe-partout responded with a kindly
blow.

Some short time after, Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty, and
Passe-partout were seated with Mrs. Aouda, who occupied the best place
in a comfortable compartment of the train, which was speeding towards
Benares. This run of eighty miles from Allahabad was accomplished in
two hours, and in that time the young lady had quite recovered from
the drugs she had inhaled. Her astonishment at finding herself in the
train, dressed in European garments, and with three travellers utterly
unknown to her, may be imagined.

Her companions in the first place showed her every attention, even to
the administration of a few drops of liqueur, and then the general
told her what had happened. He particularly dwelt upon the devotedness
of Phileas Fogg, who had risked his life to save hers, and upon the
termination of the adventure, of which Passe-partout was the hero. Mr.
Fogg made no remark whatever, and Passe-partout looked very bashful,
and declared it was not worth speaking of.

Mrs. Aouda thanked her deliverers effusively by tears at least as much
as by words. Her beautiful eyes even more than her lips expressed her
gratitude. Then her thoughts flew back to the suttee, and as she
remarked she was still on Indian territory, she shuddered with horror.
Phileas Fogg, guessing her thoughts, hastened to reassure her, and
quietly offered to escort her to Hong Kong, where she could remain
till the affair had blown over. This offer the lady moat gratefully
accepted, for--curiously enough--a relative of hers, a Parsee like
herself, was then residing at Hong Kong, and was one of the principal
merchants of that British settlement.

At half-past twelve the train stopped at Benares. Brahmin legends
state that this town is built upon the site of the ancient Casi, which
was at one time suspended between heaven and earth, like Mahomet's
coffin. But in these practical days, Benares, which orientals call the
Athens of India, rests prosaically upon the ground, and Passe-partout
caught many a g