this forest of
dates and acacias.

Passepartout, not less surprised, rushed out and speedily returned,
crying: "Monsieur, no more railway!"

"What do you mean?" asked Sir Francis.

"I mean to say that the train isn't going on."

The general at once stepped out, while Phileas Fogg calmly followed
him, and they proceeded together to the conductor.

"Where are we?" asked Sir Francis.

"At the hamlet of Kholby."

"Do we stop here?"

"Certainly. The railway isn't finished."

"What! not finished?"

"No. There's still a matter of fifty miles to be laid from here to
Allahabad, where the line begins again."

"But the papers announced the opening of the railway throughout."

"What would you have, officer? The papers were mistaken."

"Yet you sell tickets from Bombay to Calcutta," retorted Sir Francis,
who was growing warm.

"No doubt," replied the conductor; "but the passengers know that they
must provide means of transportation for themselves from Kholby to
Allahabad."

Sir Francis was furious. Passepartout would willingly have knocked the
conductor down, and did not dare to look at his master.

"Sir Francis," said Mr. Fogg quietly, "we will, if you please, look
about for some means of conveyance to Allahabad."

"Mr. Fogg, this is a delay greatly to your disadvantage."

"No, Sir Francis; it was foreseen."

"What! You knew that the way--"

"Not at all; but I knew that some obstacle or other would sooner or
later arise on my route. Nothing, therefore, is lost. I have two days,
which I have already gained, to sacrifice. A steamer leaves Calcutta
for Hong Kong at noon, on the 25th. This is the 22nd, and we shall
reach Calcutta in time."

There was nothing to say to so confident a response.

It was but too true that the railway came to a termination at this
point. The papers were like some watches, which have a way of getting
too fast, and had been premature in their announcement of the
completion of the line. The greater part of the travellers were aware
of this interruption, and, leaving the train, they began to engage such
vehicles as the village could provide four-wheeled palkigharis, waggons
drawn by zebus, carriages that looked like perambulating pagodas,
palanquins, ponies, and what not.

Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty, after searching the village from end
to end, came back without having found anything.

"I shall go afoot," said Phileas Fogg.

Passepartout, who had now rejoined h