Phileas Fogg Simply Does His Duty

Three passengers including Passepartout had disappeared. Had they been killed in the struggle? Were they taken prisoners by the Sioux? It was impossible to tell.

Three passengers, including Passepartout, had disappeared. Had they been killed in the fight? Had the Sioux taken them prisoner? There was no way to tell.

There were many wounded, but none mortally. Colonel Proctor was one of the most seriously hurt; he had fought bravely, and a ball had entered his groin. He was carried into the station with the other wounded passengers, to receive such attention as could be of avail.

Many were wounded, but none fatally. Colonel Proctor was among the most seriously hurt. He had fought bravely and had been shot in the groin. He was carried into the station with the other wounded passengers to receive whatever care might help.

Aouda was safe; and Phileas Fogg, who had been in the thickest of the fight, had not received a scratch. Fix was slightly wounded in the arm. But Passepartout was not to be found, and tears coursed down Aouda’s cheeks.

Aouda was safe. Phileas Fogg had been in the middle of the fiercest fighting, but he had not been scratched. Fix had a slight wound in his arm. But Passepartout was nowhere to be found, and tears ran down Aouda’s cheeks.

All the passengers had got out of the train, the wheels of which were stained with blood. From the tyres and spokes hung ragged pieces of flesh. As far as the eye could reach on the white plain behind, red trails were visible. The last Sioux were disappearing in the south, along the banks of Republican River.

All the passengers had gotten off the train. Its wheels were stained with blood. Ragged pieces of flesh hung from the wheel rims and spokes. Red trails stretched across the white plain behind them as far as the eye could see. The last Sioux were disappearing to the south, along the banks of Republican River.

Mr. Fogg, with folded arms, remained motionless. He had a serious decision to make. Aouda, standing near him, looked at him without speaking, and he understood her look. If his servant was a prisoner, ought he not to risk everything to rescue him from the Indians? “I will find him, living or dead,” said he quietly to Aouda.

Mr. Fogg stood still with his arms folded. He had a serious decision to make. Aouda stood near him and looked at him without speaking. He understood her look. If his servant was a prisoner, shouldn't he risk everything to rescue him from the Indians? “I will find him, alive or dead,” he said quietly to Aouda.

“Ah, Mr.—Mr. Fogg!” cried she, clasping his hands and covering them with tears.

“Ah, Mr., Mr. Fogg!” she cried, holding his hands and covering them with tears.

“Living,” added Mr. Fogg, “if we do not lose a moment.”

“Alive,” added Mr. Fogg, “if we don't waste a moment.”

Phileas Fogg, by this resolution, inevitably sacrificed himself; he pronounced his own doom. The delay of a single day would make him lose the steamer at New York, and his bet would be certainly lost. But as he thought, “It is my duty,” he did not hesitate.

By making this decision, Phileas Fogg was inevitably sacrificing himself. He had sealed his own fate. A delay of even one day would cause him to miss the steamer in New York and certainly lose his bet. But he thought, “It is my duty,” and did not hesitate.

The commanding officer of Fort Kearney was there. A hundred of his soldiers had placed themselves in a position to defend the station, should the Sioux attack it.

The commanding officer of Fort Kearney was there. A hundred of his soldiers were in position to defend the station if the Sioux attacked.

“Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to the captain, “three passengers have disappeared.”

“Sir,” Mr. Fogg said to the captain, “three passengers are missing.”

“Dead?” asked the captain.

“Dead?” asked the captain.

“Dead or prisoners; that is the uncertainty which must be solved. Do you propose to pursue the Sioux?”

“Are they dead or prisoners? We need to find out. Do you intend to pursue the Sioux?”

“That’s a serious thing to do, sir,” returned the captain. “These Indians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I cannot leave the fort unprotected.”

“That’s a serious thing to do, sir,” the captain replied. “These Indians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I can’t leave the fort unprotected.”

“The lives of three men are in question, sir,” said Phileas Fogg.

“Three men’s lives are at stake, sir,” said Phileas Fogg.

“Doubtless; but can I risk the lives of fifty men to save three?”

“Of course, but can I risk the lives of fifty men to save three?”

“I don’t know whether you can, sir; but you ought to do so.”

“I don’t know if you can, sir, but you should.”

“Nobody here,” returned the other, “has a right to teach me my duty.”

“Nobody here,” the other replied, “has the right to tell me what my duty is.”

“Very well,” said Mr. Fogg, coldly. “I will go alone.”

“Fine,” said Mr. Fogg coldly. “I’ll go alone.”

“You, sir!” cried Fix, coming up; “you go alone in pursuit of the Indians?”

“You, sir!” cried Fix, coming up. “Are you going after the Indians alone?”

“Would you have me leave this poor fellow to perish—him to whom every one present owes his life? I shall go.”

“Would you have me leave this poor man to die? Everyone here owes him their life. I will go.”

“No, sir, you shall not go alone,” cried the captain, touched in spite of himself. “No! you are a brave man. Thirty volunteers!” he added, turning to the soldiers.

“No, sir, you won’t go alone,” cried the captain, moved despite himself. “No! You’re a brave man.” He turned to the soldiers. “Thirty volunteers!”

The whole company started forward at once. The captain had only to pick his men. Thirty were chosen, and an old sergeant placed at their head.

The whole company stepped forward at once. The captain only had to choose his men. He chose thirty and put an old sergeant in charge of them.

“Thanks, captain,” said Mr. Fogg.

“Thanks, captain,” said Mr. Fogg.

“Will you let me go with you?” asked Fix.

“Will you let me go with you?” asked Fix.

“Do as you please, sir. But if you wish to do me a favour, you will remain with Aouda. In case anything should happen to me—”

“Do as you please, sir. But if you want to do me a favor, stay with Aouda. In case anything happens to me...”

A sudden pallor overspread the detective’s face. Separate himself from the man whom he had so persistently followed step by step! Leave him to wander about in this desert! Fix gazed attentively at Mr. Fogg, and, despite his suspicions and of the struggle which was going on within him, he lowered his eyes before that calm and frank look.

The detective’s face suddenly turned pale. Separate from the man he had so persistently followed every step of the way! Leave him to wander in this desert! Fix studied Mr. Fogg closely. But despite his suspicions and his inner struggle, he lowered his eyes before Mr. Fogg’s calm, open gaze.

“I will stay,” said he.

“I will stay,” he said.

A few moments after, Mr. Fogg pressed the young woman’s hand, and, having confided to her his precious carpet-bag, went off with the sergeant and his little squad. But, before going, he had said to the soldiers, “My friends, I will divide five thousand dollars among you, if we save the prisoners.”

A few moments later, Mr. Fogg squeezed the young woman’s hand and entrusted her with his precious carpetbag. Then he left with the sergeant and his small squad. But before leaving, he had said to the soldiers, “My friends, I will divide five thousand dollars among you if we save the prisoners.”

It was then a little past noon.

It was a little after noon.

Aouda retired to a waiting-room, and there she waited alone, thinking of the simple and noble generosity, the tranquil courage of Phileas Fogg. He had sacrificed his fortune, and was now risking his life, all without hesitation, from duty, in silence.

Aouda went to a waiting room, where she sat alone. She thought of Phileas Fogg’s simple, noble generosity and calm courage. He had sacrificed his fortune and was now risking his life. He did it all without hesitation, silently, out of duty.

Fix did not have the same thoughts, and could scarcely conceal his agitation. He walked feverishly up and down the platform, but soon resumed his outward composure. He now saw the folly of which he had been guilty in letting Fogg go alone. What! This man, whom he had just followed around the world, was permitted now to separate himself from him! He began to accuse and abuse himself, and, as if he were director of police, administered to himself a sound lecture for his greenness.

Fix did not share those thoughts and could hardly hide his agitation. He paced feverishly up and down the platform, but soon appeared calm again. He now saw how foolish he had been to let Fogg go alone. What! He had just followed this man around the world, and now he had let him go off on his own! Fix began to blame and scold himself. As if he were the chief of police, he gave himself a stern lecture for his inexperience.

“I have been an idiot!” he thought, “and this man will see it. He has gone, and won’t come back! But how is it that I, Fix, who have in my pocket a warrant for his arrest, have been so fascinated by him? Decidedly, I am nothing but an ass!”

“I’ve been an idiot!” he thought. “And this man will see it. He’s gone and won’t come back! But how has he fascinated me so much? I’m Fix, and I have a warrant for his arrest in my pocket! I’m definitely nothing but a fool!”

So reasoned the detective, while the hours crept by all too slowly. He did not know what to do. Sometimes he was tempted to tell Aouda all; but he could not doubt how the young woman would receive his confidences. What course should he take? He thought of pursuing Fogg across the vast white plains; it did not seem impossible that he might overtake him. Footsteps were easily printed on the snow! But soon, under a new sheet, every imprint would be effaced.

The detective thought this over as the hours passed much too slowly. He did not know what to do. Sometimes he was tempted to tell Aouda everything. But he had no doubt how the young woman would react to his confession. What should he do? He considered pursuing Fogg across the vast white plains. It did not seem impossible that he could catch up with him. Footprints were easy to see in the snow! But soon, a fresh layer of snow would cover every trace.

Fix became discouraged. He felt a sort of insurmountable longing to abandon the game altogether. He could now leave Fort Kearney station, and pursue his journey homeward in peace.

Fix grew discouraged. He felt an overwhelming urge to give up the pursuit altogether. He could now leave Fort Kearney station and continue his journey home in peace.

Towards two o’clock in the afternoon, while it was snowing hard, long whistles were heard approaching from the east. A great shadow, preceded by a wild light, slowly advanced, appearing still larger through the mist, which gave it a fantastic aspect. No train was expected from the east, neither had there been time for the succour asked for by telegraph to arrive; the train from Omaha to San Francisco was not due till the next day. The mystery was soon explained.

Around two o’clock in the afternoon, as snow fell heavily, long whistles were heard approaching from the east. A great shadow slowly advanced behind a wild light. The mist made the shadow seem even larger and gave it a fantastic appearance. No train was expected from the east. Nor had there been enough time for the help requested by telegraph to arrive. The train from Omaha to San Francisco was not due until the next day. The mystery was soon explained.

The locomotive, which was slowly approaching with deafening whistles, was that which, having been detached from the train, had continued its route with such terrific rapidity, carrying off the unconscious engineer and stoker. It had run several miles, when, the fire becoming low for want of fuel, the steam had slackened; and it had finally stopped an hour after, some twenty miles beyond Fort Kearney. Neither the engineer nor the stoker was dead, and, after remaining for some time in their swoon, had come to themselves. The train had then stopped. The engineer, when he found himself in the desert, and the locomotive without cars, understood what had happened. He could not imagine how the locomotive had become separated from the train; but he did not doubt that the train left behind was in distress.

The locomotive was slowly approaching, sounding deafening whistles. After breaking away from the train, it had raced onward, carrying the unconscious engineer and stoker. It had traveled several miles when the fire began to die down for lack of fuel, reducing the steam. An hour later, the locomotive had stopped some twenty miles beyond Fort Kearney. Neither the engineer nor the stoker was dead. After remaining unconscious for some time, they had come to. By then, the locomotive had stopped. When the engineer found himself in the desert with no cars attached to the locomotive, he understood what had happened. He could not imagine how the locomotive had become separated from the train. But he had no doubt that the train left behind was in distress.

He did not hesitate what to do. It would be prudent to continue on to Omaha, for it would be dangerous to return to the train, which the Indians might still be engaged in pillaging. Nevertheless, he began to rebuild the fire in the furnace; the pressure again mounted, and the locomotive returned, running backwards to Fort Kearney. This it was which was whistling in the mist.

He did not hesitate over what to do. It would have been safer to continue to Omaha. Returning to the train would be dangerous, because the Indians might still be looting it. Nevertheless, he began rebuilding the fire in the furnace. The pressure rose again, and the locomotive returned to Fort Kearney, running backward. It was the locomotive that was whistling in the mist.

The travellers were glad to see the locomotive resume its place at the head of the train. They could now continue the journey so terribly interrupted.

The travelers were glad to see the locomotive return to the front of the train. They could now continue their journey after the terrible interruption.

Aouda, on seeing the locomotive come up, hurried out of the station, and asked the conductor, “Are you going to start?”

When Aouda saw the locomotive arrive, she hurried out of the station and asked the conductor, “Are you about to leave?”

“At once, madam.”

“Right away, ma'am.”

“But the prisoners, our unfortunate fellow-travellers—”

“But the prisoners, our unlucky fellow travelers...”

“I cannot interrupt the trip,” replied the conductor. “We are already three hours behind time.”

“I can’t stop the trip,” the conductor replied. “We’re already three hours behind schedule.”

“And when will another train pass here from San Francisco?”

“And when will another train from San Francisco pass through here?”

“To-morrow evening, madam.”

“Tomorrow evening, ma’am.”

“To-morrow evening! But then it will be too late! We must wait—”

“Tomorrow evening! But then it will be too late! We must wait...”

“It is impossible,” responded the conductor. “If you wish to go, please get in.”

“That’s impossible,” the conductor replied. “If you want to go, please get in.”

“I will not go,” said Aouda.

“I won’t go,” said Aouda.

Fix had heard this conversation. A little while before, when there was no prospect of proceeding on the journey, he had made up his mind to leave Fort Kearney; but now that the train was there, ready to start, and he had only to take his seat in the car, an irresistible influence held him back. The station platform burned his feet, and he could not stir. The conflict in his mind again began; anger and failure stifled him. He wished to struggle on to the end.

Fix had heard the conversation. A little earlier, when there seemed to be no way to continue the journey, he had decided to leave Fort Kearney. But now the train was there, ready to leave. All he had to do was take his seat, yet an irresistible force held him back. The station platform burned his feet, but he could not move. The conflict in his mind began again. Anger and failure choked him. He wanted to keep fighting to the end.

Meanwhile the passengers and some of the wounded, among them Colonel Proctor, whose injuries were serious, had taken their places in the train. The buzzing of the over-heated boiler was heard, and the steam was escaping from the valves. The engineer whistled, the train started, and soon disappeared, mingling its white smoke with the eddies of the densely falling snow.

Meanwhile, the passengers and some of the wounded boarded the train. Among them was Colonel Proctor, who was seriously injured. The overheated boiler buzzed, and steam escaped from the valves. The engineer blew the whistle, and the train started. It soon disappeared, its white smoke mingling with the swirling, densely falling snow.

The detective had remained behind.

The detective had stayed behind.

Several hours passed. The weather was dismal, and it was very cold. Fix sat motionless on a bench in the station; he might have been thought asleep. Aouda, despite the storm, kept coming out of the waiting-room, going to the end of the platform, and peering through the tempest of snow, as if to pierce the mist which narrowed the horizon around her, and to hear, if possible, some welcome sound. She heard and saw nothing. Then she would return, chilled through, to issue out again after the lapse of a few moments, but always in vain.

Several hours passed. The weather was dreary, and it was very cold. Fix sat motionless on a bench in the station. He might have been asleep. Despite the storm, Aouda kept leaving the waiting room and walking to the end of the platform. She peered through the blowing snow, as if trying to see beyond the mist that closed in around her. She also listened for any welcome sound. She heard and saw nothing. Then she would return to the waiting room, chilled through. A few moments later, she would go out again, but always in vain.

Evening came, and the little band had not returned. Where could they be? Had they found the Indians, and were they having a conflict with them, or were they still wandering amid the mist? The commander of the fort was anxious, though he tried to conceal his apprehensions. As night approached, the snow fell less plentifully, but it became intensely cold. Absolute silence rested on the plains. Neither flight of bird nor passing of beast troubled the perfect calm.

Evening came, and the small group had not returned. Where could they be? Had they found the Indians and begun fighting them, or were they still wandering in the fog? The fort’s commander was anxious, though he tried to hide his worry. As night approached, the snow fell less heavily, but the cold became intense. Complete silence settled over the plains. No bird in flight or passing animal disturbed the perfect calm.

Throughout the night Aouda, full of sad forebodings, her heart stifled with anguish, wandered about on the verge of the plains. Her imagination carried her far off, and showed her innumerable dangers. What she suffered through the long hours it would be impossible to describe.

Throughout the night, Aouda wandered at the edge of the plains, filled with dread and anguish. Her imagination took her far away and showed her countless dangers. It would be impossible to describe what she suffered during those long hours.

Fix remained stationary in the same place, but did not sleep. Once a man approached and spoke to him, and the detective merely replied by shaking his head.

Fix stayed where he was, but he did not sleep. At one point, a man approached and spoke to him. The detective only shook his head in reply.

Thus the night passed. At dawn, the half-extinguished disc of the sun rose above a misty horizon; but it was now possible to recognise objects two miles off. Phileas Fogg and the squad had gone southward; in the south all was still vacancy. It was then seven o’clock.

The night passed. At dawn, the dim sun rose above a misty horizon, but objects were now visible two miles away. Phileas Fogg and the squad had gone south. Everything to the south was still empty. It was seven o’clock.

The captain, who was really alarmed, did not know what course to take.

The captain was truly alarmed and did not know what to do.

Should he send another detachment to the rescue of the first? Should he sacrifice more men, with so few chances of saving those already sacrificed? His hesitation did not last long, however. Calling one of his lieutenants, he was on the point of ordering a reconnaissance, when gunshots were heard. Was it a signal? The soldiers rushed out of the fort, and half a mile off they perceived a little band returning in good order.

Should he send another group of soldiers to rescue the first? Should he risk more men when there was so little chance of saving those already lost? But his hesitation did not last long. He called one of his lieutenants and was about to order a scouting mission when gunshots rang out. Was it a signal? The soldiers rushed out of the fort. Half a mile away, they saw a small group returning in good order.

Mr. Fogg was marching at their head, and just behind him were Passepartout and the other two travellers, rescued from the Sioux.

Mr. Fogg led the way. Just behind him were Passepartout and the other two travelers rescued from the Sioux.

They had met and fought the Indians ten miles south of Fort Kearney. Shortly before the detachment arrived, Passepartout and his companions had begun to struggle with their captors, three of whom the Frenchman had felled with his fists, when his master and the soldiers hastened up to their relief.

They had encountered and fought the Indians ten miles south of Fort Kearney. Shortly before the detachment arrived, Passepartout and his companions had begun to fight their captors. Passepartout had knocked three of them down with his fists when his master and the soldiers rushed to their rescue.

All were welcomed with joyful cries. Phileas Fogg distributed the reward he had promised to the soldiers, while Passepartout, not without reason, muttered to himself, “It must certainly be confessed that I cost my master dear!”

Everyone was welcomed with joyful cries. Phileas Fogg gave the soldiers the reward he had promised them. Meanwhile, Passepartout muttered to himself, with good reason, “I must admit that I cost my master a lot!”

Fix, without saying a word, looked at Mr. Fogg, and it would have been difficult to analyse the thoughts which struggled within him. As for Aouda, she took her protector’s hand and pressed it in her own, too much moved to speak.

Fix looked at Mr. Fogg without saying a word. It would have been difficult to understand the thoughts struggling within him. Aouda took her protector’s hand and held it in hers, too moved to speak.

Meanwhile, Passepartout was looking about for the train; he thought he should find it there, ready to start for Omaha, and he hoped that the time lost might be regained.

Meanwhile, Passepartout looked around for the train. He expected to find it there, ready to leave for Omaha. He hoped they could make up the lost time.

“The train! the train!” cried he.

“The train! The train!” he cried.

“Gone,” replied Fix.

“Gone,” said Fix.

“And when does the next train pass here?” said Phileas Fogg.

“And when does the next train come through here?” said Phileas Fogg.

“Not till this evening.”

“Not until this evening.”

“Ah!” returned the impassible gentleman quietly.

“Ah!” the calm gentleman replied quietly.