"That is foreseen," replied Mr. Fogg. "I think we
must wait till night before acting."

"I think so," said the guide.

The worthy Indian then gave some account of the
victim, who, he said, was a celebrated beauty of the
Parsee race, and the daughter of a wealthy Bombay
merchant. She had received a thoroughly English
education in that city, and, from her manners and
intelligence, would be thought an European. Her name
was Aouda. Left an orphan, she was married against
her will to the old rajah of Bundelcund; and, know-
ing the fate that awaited her, she escaped, was retaken,
and devoted by the rajah's relatives, who had an in-
terest in her death, to the sacrifice from which it
seemed she could not escape.

The Parsee's narrative only confirmed Mr. Fogg
and his companions in their generous design. It was
decided that the guide should direct the elephant
towards the pagoda of Pillaji, which he accordingly
approached as quickly as possible. They halted, half
an hour afterwards, in a copse, some five hundred
feet from the pagoda, where they were well concealed;
but they could hear the groans and cries of the fakirs
distinctly.

They then discussed the means of getting at the
victim. The guide was familiar with the pagoda of
Pillaji, in which, as he declared, the young woman was
imprisoned. Could they enter any of its doors while

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