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The
Parsee
,
leading
the
others
,
noiselessly
crept
through
the
wood
,
and
in
ten
minutes
they
found
themselves
on
the
banks
of
a
small
stream
,
whence
,
by
the
light
of
the
rosin
torches
,
they
perceived
a
pyre
of
wood
,
on
the
top
of
which
lay
the
embalmed
body
of
the
rajah
,
which
was
to
be
burned
with
his
wife
.
The
pagoda
,
whose
minarets
loomed
above
the
trees
in
the
deepening
dusk
,
stood
a
hundred
steps
away
.
"
Come
!
"
whispered
the
guide
.
He
slipped
more
cautiously
than
ever
through
the
brush
,
followed
by
his
companions
;
the
silence
around
was
only
broken
by
the
low
murmuring
of
the
wind
among
the
branches
.
Soon
the
Parsee
stopped
on
the
borders
of
the
glade
,
which
was
lit
up
by
the
torches
.
The
ground
was
covered
by
groups
of
the
Indians
,
motionless
in
their
drunken
sleep
;
it
seemed
a
battlefield
strewn
with
the
dead
.
Men
,
women
,
and
children
lay
together
.
In
the
background
,
among
the
trees
,
the
pagoda
of
Pillaji
loomed
distinctly
.
Much
to
the
guide
's
disappointment
,
the
guards
of
the
rajah
,
lighted
by
torches
,
were
watching
at
the
doors
and
marching
to
and
fro
with
naked
sabres
;
probably
the
priests
,
too
,
were
watching
within
.
The
Parsee
,
now
convinced
that
it
was
impossible
to
force
an
entrance
to
the
temple
,
advanced
no
farther
,
but
led
his
companions
back
again
.
Phileas
Fogg
and
Sir
Francis
Cromarty
also
saw
that
nothing
could
be
attempted
in
that
direction
.
They
stopped
,
and
engaged
in
a
whispered
colloquy
.
"
It
is
only
eight
now
,
"
said
the
brigadier
,
"
and
these
guards
may
also
go
to
sleep
.
"
"
It
is
not
impossible
,
"
returned
the
Parsee
.
They
lay
down
at
the
foot
of
a
tree
,
and
waited
.
