The woman you have just seen will be burned to-morrow at the dawn of day." "Oh, the scoundrels!" cried Passepartout, who could not repress his indignation.
"And the corpse ?" asked Mr.Fogg.
"Is that of the prince, her husband," said the guide; "an independent rajah of Bundelcund." "Is it possible," resumed Phileas Fogg, his voice betraying not the least emotion, "that these barbarous customs still exist in India, and that the English have been unable to put a stop to them ?" "These sacrifices do not occur in the larger portion of India," replied Sir Francis; "but we have no power over these savage territories, and especially here in Bundelcund.

The whole district north of the Vindhias is the theatre of incessant murders and pillage." "The poor wretch!" exclaimed Passepartout, "to be burned alive!" "Yes," returned Sir Francis, "burned alive.

And, if she were not, you cannot conceive what treatment she would be obliged to submit to from her relatives.

They would shave off her hair, feed her on a scanty allowance of rice, treat her with contempt; she would be looked upon as an unclean creature, and would die in some corner, like a scurvy dog.
The prospect of so frightful an existence drives these poor creatures to the sacrifice much more than love or religious fanaticism.
Sometimes, however, the sacrifice is really voluntary, and it requires the active interference of the Government to prevent it.

Several years ago, when I was living at Bombay, a young widow asked permission of the governor to be burned along with her husband's body; but, as you may imagine, he refused.