her, and
walking to the extremity of the platform, attempted to penetrate the
thick falling snow, as she listened intently for some sound of the
return of the escort. But she saw and heard nothing, and would return
chilled to the bone, only to sally forth once more in vain.

Night fell, the troops had not returned; the commandant began to feel
anxious, though he did not betray his anxiety. The snow fell less
thickly now, but the cold was intense; absolute silence reigned
around. All night Mrs. Aouda kept wandering about, filled with the
most dismal forebodings--her imagination suggested a thousand dangers,
and her anxiety was terrible.

Fix remained immovable, but he did not sleep either. A man approached
him once and spoke to him, but a shake of the head was the only reply
he received.

Thus passed the night. At sunrise it was possible to distinguish
objects at the distance of two miles; but towards the south, in which
direction the party had gone, there was no sign. It was then seven
o'clock.

The captain, who was now seriously alarmed, did not know what to do.
Should he send a second detachment after the first, and sacrifice more
men on the slender chance of saving those who had already gone? But he
did not hesitate long, and was on the point of ordering a
reconnaissance to be made, when the sound of firing was heard. The
soldiers rushed out of the fort and perceived the little troop
returning in good order.

Mr. Fogg was marching at their head. Close to him were Passe-partout
and the other two passengers, rescued from the hands of the Sioux.
They had encountered the Indians ten miles from Kearney. Just before
they arrived Passe-partout and his companions had turned upon their
captors, three of whom the Frenchman had knocked down with his fists,
when his master and the escort came to his assistance.

The party was welcomed most joyously.

Phileas Fogg distributed the promised reward to the soldiers, while
Passe-partout muttered, and not without reason, "I must confess that I
cost my master pretty dearly."

Fix looked at Mr. Fogg without speaking, and it would have been
difficult to analyse his thoughts at that moment. Mrs. Aouda, whose
feelings were too deep for expression, took Mr. Fogg's hands in hers
and pressed them without speaking.

Ever since his return Passe-partout had been looking for the train; he
hoped to find it there ready to start for Omaha, and trusted that the
lost time might be regaine