the station.

The influence to which the priests of Pillaji had subjected Aouda began
gradually to yield, and she became more herself, so that her fine eyes
resumed all their soft Indian expression.

When the poet-king, Ucaf Uddaul, celebrates the charms of the queen of
Ahmehnagara, he speaks thus:

"Her shining tresses, divided in two parts, encircle the harmonious
contour of her white and delicate cheeks, brilliant in their glow and
freshness. Her ebony brows have the form and charm of the bow of Kama,
the god of love, and beneath her long silken lashes the purest
reflections and a celestial light swim, as in the sacred lakes of
Himalaya, in the black pupils of her great clear eyes. Her teeth,
fine, equal, and white, glitter between her smiling lips like dewdrops
in a passion-flower's half-enveloped breast. Her delicately formed
ears, her vermilion hands, her little feet, curved and tender as the
lotus-bud, glitter with the brilliancy of the loveliest pearls of
Ceylon, the most dazzling diamonds of Golconda. Her narrow and supple
waist, which a hand may clasp around, sets forth the outline of her
rounded figure and the beauty of her bosom, where youth in its flower
displays the wealth of its treasures; and beneath the silken folds of
her tunic she seems to have been modelled in pure silver by the godlike
hand of Vicvarcarma, the immortal sculptor."

It is enough to say, without applying this poetical rhapsody to Aouda,
that she was a charming woman, in all the European acceptation of the
phrase. She spoke English with great purity, and the guide had not
exaggerated in saying that the young Parsee had been transformed by her
bringing up.

The train was about to start from Allahabad, and Mr. Fogg proceeded to
pay the guide the price agreed upon for his service, and not a farthing
more; which astonished Passepartout, who remembered all that his master
owed to the guide's devotion. He had, indeed, risked his life in the
adventure at Pillaji, and, if he should be caught afterwards by the
Indians, he would with difficulty escape their vengeance. Kiouni,
also, must be disposed of. What should be done with the elephant,
which had been so dearly purchased? Phileas Fogg had already
determined this question.

"Parsee," said he to the guide, "you have been serviceable and devoted.
I have paid for your service, but not for your devotion. Would you
like to have this elephant? He is yours."

The guide's eyes gli