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.

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.

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.

All the passengers had got out of the train, the wheels of which were stained with blood. From the tires and spokes² hung ragged⁴ 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.

Mr Fogg, with folded arms, remained motionless. He had a serious decision to make. Aouda, standing⁵ 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.

`Ah, Mr - Mr Fogg!' cried she, clasping his hands and covering them with tears.

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

Phileas Fogg, by this resolution, inevitably⁶ sacrificed himself; he pronounced his own doom⁷. 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.

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.

`Sir,' said Mr Fogg to the captain, `three passengers have disappeared.'

`Dead?' asked the captain.

`Dead or prisoners; that is the uncertainty⁸ which must be solved. Do you propose 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.'

`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 the Indians?'

`Would you have me leave this poor fellow to perish - him to whom every one present owes his life? I shall 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.

The whole company started forward at once. The captain had only to pick his men. Thirty were chosen, and an old sergeant⁹ placed at their head.

`Thanks, captain,' said Mr Fogg.

`Will you let me go with you?' asked Mr, 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--'

A sudden pallor overspread the detective's face. Separate himself from the man whom he had so persistently¹⁰ followed step by step! Leave him to wander about in this desert! Fix gazed attentively¹¹ 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.

`I will stay,' said he.

A few moments after, Mr Fogg pressed the young woman's hand, and, having confided¹² to her his precious carpet-bag, went off with the sergeant and his little squad¹³. But, before going, 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.

Aouda retired¹⁴ to a waiting-room, and there she waited alone, thinking of the simple and noble generosity¹⁵, the tranquil¹⁶ courage of Phileas Fogg. He had sacrificed his fortune, and wad now risking his life, all without hesitation¹⁷, from duty, in silence.

Fix did not have the same thoughts, and could scarcely conceal¹⁸ his agitation¹⁹. He walked feverishly²⁰ up and down the platform, but soon resumed his outward composure. He now saw the folly²¹ 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.

`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 ass¹!'

So reasoned the detective, while the hours crept by all too slowly. He did not know what to do. Sometimes he was tempted²² 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 imprint²³ would be effaced²⁴.

Fix became discouraged. He felt a sort of insurmountable longing²⁵ to abandon 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, 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.

The locomotive, which was slowly approaching with deafening²⁶ 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 distress²⁷.

He did not hesitate what to do. It would be prudent²⁸ to continue on to Omaha, for it would be dangerous to return to the train, which the Indians might still be engaged in pillaging²⁹. Nevertheless, he began to rebuild the fire in the furnace; the pressure again mounted, and the locomotive returned, running backwards³⁰ to Fort Kearney. This it was which 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.

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 already three hours behind time.'

`And when will another train pass here from San Francisco?'

`Tomorrow evening, madam.'

`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.'

`I will not go,' said Aouda.

Fix had heard this conversation. A little while before, when there was no prospect³¹ of proceeding³² 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 irresistible³³ 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 stifled³⁴ him. He wished to struggle on 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 overheated boiler³⁵ was heard, and the steam was escaping from the valves. The engineer whistled, the train started, and soon disappeared, mingling³⁶ its white smoke with the eddies³⁷ of the densely³⁸ falling snow.

The detective had remained behind.

Several hours passed. The weather was dismal³⁹, 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 lapse⁴⁰ of a few moments, 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 apprehensions⁴¹. As night approached, the snow fell less plentifully⁴², but it became intensely cold. Absolute silence rested on the plains. Neither flight of bird nor passing of beast troubled the perfect calm.

Throughout the night Aouda, full of sad forebodings, her heart stifled with anguish⁴³, wandered about on the verge⁴⁴ 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.

Fix remained stationary⁴⁵ in the same place, but did not sleep. Once a man approached and spoke³ to him, and the detective merely replied by shaking his head.

Thus the night passed. At dawn, the half-extinguished disc of the sun rose above a misty⁴⁶ horizon; but it was now possible to recognize objects two miles off. Phileas Fogg and the Squad had gone southward; in the south all was still vacancy⁴⁷. 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? 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 lieutenants⁴⁸, 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.

Mr Fogg was marching at their head, and just behind him were Passepartout 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 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.

All were welcomed with joyful⁴⁹ 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!'

Fix, without saying a word, looked at Mr Fogg, and it would have been difficult to analyze⁵⁰ 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.

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 regained⁵¹.

`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.

连路路通在内一共有三个旅客失踪。他们是在战斗中被打死了呢，还是被西乌人捉去了呢？现在谁也不知道。

旅客负伤的相当多，不过据了解还没有人受致命的重伤。普洛克托上校算是一个重伤号。他这次作战很勇敢，大腿根上中了一颗子弹，被打倒了。他和另一些需要立即治疗的旅客都被抬到车站里去了。

艾娥达夫人平安无事。斐利亚·福克虽然是全力作战，但是连一点皮也没有擦破。费克斯膀子上受了一点轻伤。只是路路通失踪了，艾娥达夫人在为他流眼泪。

这时，旅客都离开了车厢。只见车轮上血迹斑斑，车辐和车毂上沾着一块块烂肉。在那盖满白雪的平原上，一道鲜红的血印一直伸延到看不见的远方。跑在最后面的那些印第安人的背影，现在已经在南方共和河岸边消失了。

福克先生双手交叉着站在那里一动也不动。他正在考虑一件非常重要的事。艾娥达夫人在他旁边一声不响，望着他……福克先生懂得她的意思。如果他的仆人是被印第安人捉去了，难道不应该牺牲一切去把他救出来吗？……

“不管他是死是活，我都要把他找回来。”他简单地对艾娥达夫人说。

“啊，先生，福克先生！”年轻的夫人叫着说，她抓住福克先生的双手，这双手上流满了她的眼泪。

“他不会死！”福克先生说，“只要我们一分钟也不耽搁！”

既然这样决定，斐利亚·福克便准备牺牲一切了。他等于已经宣告了自己的破产，因为只要耽搁一天，他就赶不上去纽约的邮船。他的赌注是输定了。但是他考虑到：这是我的义务！因此他毫不犹豫。

在克尔尼堡驻防的连长就在旁边，他的士兵——约有一百多人——已经作好防御准备，如果西乌人直接来进攻车站，就及时予以回击。

“先生，”福克先生对连长说，“有三个旅客失踪了。”

“死了吗？”连长问。

“死了还是被俘了，”福克先生回答说，“现在还说不定，需要马上弄清楚。您是不是预备追击那些西乌人？”

“这可不是件小事，先生，”连长说，“这些印第安人能跑到阿肯色河那边去！我总不能丢下上级交给我的军堡啊。”

“先生，”斐利亚·福克说，“这件事关系着三个人的生命。”

“这我知道……但是叫五十个人冒生命的危险去救三个人，我能这样作吗？”

“我不知道您是不是能这样作，但是您应该这样作。”

“先生，”连长回答说，“在这里没有任何人有权指示我应该怎么作。”

“好吧！”斐利亚·福克冷冰冰他说，“那我自己去！”

“您自己，先生？”费克斯走过来叫着说，“您一个人去追那些印第安人？”

“这里所有活着的人，都是这个不幸的小伙子救下来的，难道您叫我看着他死在印第安人手里吗？我可一定要去。”

“好吧！您别一个人去！”连长叫着说，他已经被福克的行为感动了，“不错，您是条好汉！……”他回头对自己的士兵说，“来三十个人，自愿报名！”

全连士兵都拥上来了。连长只需在这些正直的小伙子中间挑选就行了。他挑好三十个人，另派一个老军士长带队。

“谢谢您，连长！”福克先生说。

“我跟您一起去好吗？”费克斯问福克先生。

“您高兴去就去吧，先生，”斐利亚·福克回答说，“不过，假如您愿意帮我的忙，我希望您在这里陪着艾娥达夫人，如果我遇到不幸……”

听了这话，警察厅密探的脸上突然变得苍白。他寸步不离地紧盯着的这个人现在要离开他了！让他这样到那荒无人烟的地方去冒险！费克斯注视着这位绅士，虽然他对福克怀有偏见，虽然他正在跟对方进行着斗争，但是在这个态度坦然而又镇静的绅士面前，他终于还是低下了头。

“好吧，我留在这儿。”他说。

过不一会，福克先生跟年轻的艾娥达夫人握手告别，并且把他那个宝贝旅行袋也交给她了，然后他就跟着军士长领着的一小队人一起出发了。

临走之前，他对士兵们说：

“朋友们！如果能把人救回来，就给你们一千英镑的奖金。”

这时已经是十二点过几分了。

艾娥达夫人回到车站上的一间房子里去了，她独自在那里等着，这时，她想着福克，想着他仗义救人的气概，想着他沉着勇敢的精神。福克先生已经牺牲了他的财产，现在他又不顾自己的生命，为了尽义务，他毫不犹豫，甚至连一句话也不多说。在艾娥达夫人看来斐利亚·福克真是一个英雄。

但是密探费克斯却不这么想。现在他心里烦躁不堪，就象热锅上的蚂蚁。他在月台上走来走去。刚才他一时糊涂，现在清醒了。让福克走掉了，这事做得太糊涂，我是怎么搞的？寸步不离地跟他跑遍了整个地球，现在居然会同意他走开！现在他密探的本性又恢复过来了，他不住地责怪自己，他对自己的指责就好象是伦敦警察厅长在训斥一个由于无知而放走了一个现行犯的警员似的。

“我真是混蛋！”他心里说，“别人会把我的身份告诉他的。他这一走准不回来了！现在再到哪儿去抓他呢？唉！我怎么会给他骗住了呢？我费克斯口袋里有抓他的拘票！嘿，我真是个笨蛋！”

警察厅密探就这样在那儿胡思乱想，他觉得时间过得又长又慢，真不知道该如何是好。一会儿，他想把这一切都告诉艾娥达夫人，但是，他知道这个年轻的女人将会怎么对付他。怎么办呢？他想穿过那漫长的雪野去追赶福克！他认为也许还能找到他，雪地上还留着那一队人走过的足迹！……但是过不一会儿，那些足迹就被一层新下的白雪盖上了。

这时费克斯泄气了。他现在心里真想放弃对福克的追踪。正在这个时候，眼前出现了一个机会，他可以丢下福克马上离开克尔尼堡继续他这次多灾多难的旅行。

事情是这样的：在下午快两点的时候，天上正飘着鹅毛大雪，忽然从东面传来几声汽笛的长鸣，接着一个黑呼呼的庞然大物，头上射出强烈的光芒，慢吞吞地向这边走过来了，它在浓雾里越发显得庞大，并且还带有一种神怪的气氛。

这时人们根本就没想到会从东面开来列车。通过电报要求增派的机车也不可能这么快就到。从奥马哈开往旧金山的火车，也要等到第二天才能经过此地。但是，不一会儿，大家都明白了。

原来是一辆机车，不住地鸣着汽笛，慢慢地开了过来。这正是原来的那辆机车。它自从甩掉了列车以后，就以惊人的速度带着半死不活的司机和司炉继续向前飞驰，一直跑了好多英里，一小时之后煤烧得差不多了，火也小了，蒸气也减少了，它才越走越慢，最后在离开克尔尼堡二十英里的路上停了下来。

司机和司炉实际上都没死，只是昏迷了过去，过了很久，他们又醒过来了。

机车已经停了。当时司机看到四周都是荒凉的雪地，只剩下一辆光杆儿机车，后面的列车也不见了。这时，他明白了刚才发生的一切。可是机车怎么会把列车甩下去的呢，这一点他怎么也猜不出。但是他毫不怀疑，列车一定是留在后边正处在进退两难的境地！

司机毫不踌躇地采取了应有的措施。把机车继续向前开，开往奥马哈，这是一条妥当的办法；如果退回去找列车，可能那些印第安人还正在车上抢劫，这是一个危险的办法……管他的！锅炉里添满了煤和木柴，火烧旺了，压力又加大了，大约下午两点钟的时候，机车倒着开回了克尔尼堡。这正是刚才在浓雾里鸣放汽笛的那辆机车。

旅客们看到机车和列车又重新衔接起来了，都感到非常高兴。这样一来这个不幸中断的旅行又可以继续下去了。

机车一到克尔尼堡，艾娥达夫人就出了车站，走过去对列车员说：

“你们就要开车了吗？”

“马上就开，夫人。”

“可是那些被捉去的人……我们那些不幸的旅伴……”

“我总不能让火车停在半路上！”列车员说，“我们已经误点三个小时了。”

“从旧金山开来的下一班车什么时候到此地？”

“明天晚上，夫人。”

“明天晚上！那就太晚了。你们得等一下……”

“没法等，”列车员说。“如果您要走，就请上车吧。”

“我不走，”年轻的夫人说。

他们谈的这些话，费克斯句句都听见了。刚才，什么交通工具都没有的时候，费克斯曾经发誓要离开克尔尼堡。可是，现在列车就停在他面前，马上就要走，他只要回到车厢坐上自己的座位就成了，可是现在，他的两条腿仿佛被一种不可抵抗的力量钉在地上了。他的两只脚象站在热锅上一样，他恨不得马上离开车站，但又下不了走的决心。他心里展开了剧烈的思想斗争，失败使他老羞成怒，他决定要干到底。

这时旅客们和几个受伤的人，包括伤势很重的普洛克托上校在内，都上车了。机车锅炉早已烧热，正在不停地呜咽着，蒸气从气门嘴上直在外喷。司机拉响了汽笛，火车开动了，转眼之间列车已经在白色的烟雾和飞舞的雪花混乱交错的原野里消失了。

密探费克斯留下了。

几个小时过去了。天气很坏，冷得要命。费克斯静坐在车站里的一张靠背椅上，动也不动，看起来好象他是睡着了。艾娥达夫人不顾风雪交加，时时走出那间为她准备的房子，到站上张望。她一直走到月台尽头，她想透过这些飞舞的大雪能看见点什么，她想隔着这完全阻碍着视线的浓雾，能听见些什么。可是什么都没有，这时她已被冻僵了。她又回到屋子里，准备停会再出来看看。但是一直是毫无音讯。

天晚了，那一小队人还没有回来。福克先生现在在哪里？他能找到印第安人吗，难道是在作战吗？这些士兵会不会在浓雾里迷失方向，正在瞎摸乱撞呢？驻克尔尼堡的连长，虽然不愿露出什么忧虑的表情，但是他实在也很心焦。

黑夜降临了，雪也下得小点儿了。但是天气却更加冷了。即使是胆大包天的人在这漆黑无边的原野里也会感到毛骨悚然。这时，既无飞鸟掠过，也无走兽奔驰，万籁俱寂，死一样的沉静笼罩着整个大地。

整个一夜，艾娥达夫人心里充满了不幸的预感和忧郁，她在那草原边沿上不停地徘徊，她被自己的幻想带到了辽远的地方，那里使她看到数不尽的艰险。在这漫长的黑夜里，她所感受的痛苦是无法描述的。

费克斯一直是待在那个老位子上。但是他也一样睡不着觉。不知道在什么时候，好象有个人走到他跟前，并且还对他说了几句什么话，但是密探听完了那个人的话之后，摇了摇头，就把那个人打发走了。

这一夜就这样过去了。清晨半明半暗的太阳轮廓，从弥漫着浓雾的天边升起，这时人们已能看到两英里以内的景物了。斐利亚·福克和那一小队人昨天是向南方追击的……而南方现在却空无所有。时间已经是上午七点了。

连长现在非常优虑，他不知道该怎么办了。要不要再派一队人去支援呢？该不该再派更多的人去为那些最初被俘的几个人去冒生命的危险呢？而这种援救又是那样希望渺茫。但是他的犹豫并没继续很久，他召来一个排长，命令他带人到南方去侦察一次，正在这时，人们听见了一阵枪声。是在发信号吗？战士们都冲出了堡垒，他们发现离此约半英里的地方有一小队人步法整齐地走了过来。

走在前面的是福克先生，他旁边是从西乌人手里救出来的路路通和另外两个旅客。

他们在克尔尼堡南边十英里的地方打了一仗。在队伍赶到之前不久，路路通和另外两个难友已经和押送他们的西乌人干起来了。当福克先生和士兵赶去援救他们的时候，这个法国小伙子已经用拳头揍翻了三个西乌人。

人们用欢呼来迎接这些救人的人和被救的人。斐利亚·福克把事前许下的奖金分给了士兵。这时路路通一再重复着说：“说实在的，应当承认，我的主人在我身上花的钱真不少了！”这倒确实是一句老实话。

费克斯一句话没说，只是看着福克先生，要分析他这时的思想情况是很困难的。至于艾娥达夫人，她双手紧握着这位绅士的右手，激动得说不出话来。

路路通一到车站就东张西望地找火车。他还以为列车会在站上停着，等他上车就开往奥马哈，他还盼望能补救耽搁了的时间。

“火车，火车呢！”他叫着说。

“开了。”费克斯回答说。

“下一趟车什么时候经过这里？”斐利亚·福克问。

“得等到今天晚上。”

“哦！”这位不动声色的绅士只简单地说了这一个字。

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