"And that dead body?" said Mr. Fogg.
"Is that of her husband—a prince," replied the guide. "He was an independent rajah in Bundelcund."
"Do you mean to say that these barbarous customs still obtain in India—under British rule?" said Mr. Fogg, without betraying any emotion whatever.
"In the greater portion of India," replied Sir Francis Cromarty, "these sacrifices do not take place; but we have no authority in the savage districts, one of the principal of which is Bundelcund. The entire district north of the Vindhia range is the theatre of pillage and murder."
"Poor creature," exclaimed Passe-partout; "burned alive!"
"Yes," continued the general, "burned alive; and if she was not, you have no idea to what a wretched condition she would be reduced by her relatives. They would shave off her hair, feed her very scantily upon rice, and hold no communication with her, for she would be regarded as unclean, and would die like a dog. The prospect of such treatment, even more strongly than affection or religious fanaticism, often urges the widows to submit themselves to suttee. Sometimes, however, the act is really voluntary, and energetic interference by the Government is necessary to prevent it. Some years ago, when I was in Bombay, a young widow asked the governor's leave to be burned with her late husband's body. As you may imagine, he refused her request. Then the disconsolate widow left the town, took refuge with an independent rajah, and burned herself, to the satisfaction of all concerned."
As the general proceeded, the guide nodded in assent to the truthfulness of the relation, and when the speaker had finished, the Parsee said:
"But the suttee to take place to-morrow is not voluntary."
"How do you know?"
"Everyone in Bundelcund knows that," replied the guide.