Three passengers including Passepartout had disappeared. Had they beenkilled in the struggle? Were they taken prisoners by the Sioux? Itwas impossible to tell.

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

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

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

Mr. Fogg, with folded arms, remained motionless. He had a seriousdecision to make. Aouda, standing near him, looked at him withoutspeaking, and he understood her look. If his servant was a prisoner,ought he not to risk everything to rescue him from the Indians? "Iwill find him, living or dead," said he quietly to Aouda.

"Ah, Mr.--Mr. Fogg!" cried she, clasping his hands and covering themwith tears.

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

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

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

"Sir," said Mr. Fogg to the captain, "three passengers havedisappeared."

"Dead?" asked the captain.

"Dead or prisoners; that is the uncertainty which must be solved. Doyou propose to pursue the Sioux?"

"That's a serious thing to do, sir," returned the captain. "TheseIndians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I cannot leave the fortunprotected."

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

"Doubtless; 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."

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

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

"You, sir!" cried Fix, coming up; "you go alone in pursuit of theIndians?"

"Would you have me leave this poor fellow to perish--him to whom everyone present owes his life? I shall go."

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

The whole company started forward at once. The captain had only topick his men. Thirty were chosen, and an old sergeant placed at theirhead.

"Thanks, captain," said Mr. Fogg.

"Will you let me go with you?" asked Fix.

"Do as you please, sir. But if you wish to do me a favour, you willremain with Aouda. In case anything should happen to me--"

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

"I will stay," said he.

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

It was then a little past noon.

Aouda retired to a waiting-room, and there she waited alone, thinkingof the simple and noble generosity, the tranquil courage of PhileasFogg. He had sacrificed his fortune, and was now risking his life, allwithout hesitation, from duty, in silence.

Fix did not have the same thoughts, and could scarcely conceal hisagitation. He walked feverishly up and down the platform, but soonresumed his outward composure. He now saw the folly of which he hadbeen guilty in letting Fogg go alone. What! This man, whom he hadjust followed around the world, was permitted now to separate himselffrom him! He began to accuse and abuse himself, and, as if he weredirector of police, administered to himself a sound lecture for hisgreenness.

"I have been an idiot!" he thought, "and this man will see it. He hasgone, and won't come back! But how is it that I, Fix, who have in mypocket a warrant for his arrest, have been so fascinated by him?Decidedly, I am nothing but an ass!"

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

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

Towards two o'clock in the afternoon, while it was snowing hard, longwhistles were heard approaching from the east. A great shadow,preceded by a wild light, slowly advanced, appearing still largerthrough the mist, which gave it a fantastic aspect. No train wasexpected from the east, neither had there been time for the succourasked for by telegraph to arrive; the train from Omaha to San Franciscowas not due till 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 itsroute with such terrific rapidity, carrying off the unconsciousengineer and stoker. It had run several miles, when, the fire becominglow for want of fuel, the steam had slackened; and it had finallystopped an hour after, some twenty miles beyond Fort Kearney. Neitherthe engineer nor the stoker was dead, and, after remaining for sometime in their swoon, had come to themselves. The train had thenstopped. The engineer, when he found himself in the desert, and thelocomotive without cars, understood what had happened. He could notimagine how the locomotive had become separated from the train; but hedid not doubt that the train left behind was in distress.

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

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

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

"At once, madam."

"But the prisoners, our unfortunate fellow-travellers--"

"I cannot interrupt the trip," replied the conductor. "We are alreadythree hours behind time."

"And when will another train pass here from San Francisco?"

"To-morrow evening, madam."

"To-morrow 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."

"I will not go," said Aouda.

Fix had heard this conversation. A little while before, when there wasno prospect of proceeding on the journey, he had made up his mind toleave 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 influenceheld him back. The station platform burned his feet, and he could notstir. The conflict in his mind again began; anger and failure stifledhim. He wished to struggle on to the end.

Meanwhile the passengers and some of the wounded, among them ColonelProctor, whose injuries were serious, had taken their places in thetrain. The buzzing of the over-heated boiler was heard, and the steamwas escaping from the valves. The engineer whistled, the trainstarted, and soon disappeared, mingling its white smoke with the eddiesof the densely falling snow.

The detective had remained 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 beenthought asleep. Aouda, despite the storm, kept coming out of thewaiting-room, going to the end of the platform, and peering through thetempest of snow, as if to pierce the mist which narrowed the horizonaround her, and to hear, if possible, some welcome sound. She heardand saw nothing. Then she would return, chilled through, to issue outagain after the lapse of a few moments, but always in vain.

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

Throughout the night Aouda, full of sad forebodings, her heart stifledwith anguish, wandered about on the verge of the plains. Herimagination carried her far off, and showed her innumerable dangers.What she suffered through the long hours it would be impossible todescribe.

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

Thus the night passed. At dawn, the half-extinguished disc of the sunrose above a misty horizon; but it was now possible to recogniseobjects 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 captain, who was really alarmed, did not know what course to take.

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

Mr. Fogg was marching at their head, and just behind him werePassepartout and the other two travellers, 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 companionshad begun to struggle with their captors, three of whom the Frenchmanhad felled with his fists, when his master and the soldiers hastened upto their relief.

All were welcomed with joyful cries. Phileas Fogg distributed thereward he had promised to the soldiers, while Passepartout, not withoutreason, muttered to himself, "It must certainly be confessed that Icost my master dear!"

Fix, without saying a word, looked at Mr. Fogg, and it would have beendifficult to analyse the thoughts which struggled within him. As forAouda, she took her protector's hand and pressed it in her own, toomuch moved to speak.

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

"The train! the train!" cried he.

"Gone," replied Fix.

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

"Not till this evening."

"Ah!" returned the impassible gentleman quietly.