elf a cry broke from me.

'It interests you?' Laputa asked. 'I could tell you more, but
something must be left to the fancy. Yours should be an active one,'
and his hand gripped my shaking wrist and felt my pulse.

'Henriques will see that the truth does not fall short of my forecast,'
he went on. 'For I have appointed Henriques your executioner.'

The name brought my senses back to me.

'Kill me,' I said, 'but for God's sake kill Henriques too. If you did
justice you would let me go and roast the Portugoose alive. But for me
the Snake would be over the Lebombo by this time in Henriques' pocket.'

'But it is not, my friend. It was stolen by a storekeeper, who will
shortly be wishing he had died in his mother's womb.'

My plan was slowly coming back to me.

'If you value Prester John's collar, you will save my life. What will
your rising be without the Snake? Would they follow you a yard if they
suspected you had lost it?'

'So you would threaten me,' Laputa said very gently. Then in a burst
of wrath he shouted, 'They will follow me to hell for my own sake.
Imbecile, do you think my power is built on a trinket? When you are in
your grave, I will be ruling a hundred millions from the proudest
throne on earth.'

He sprang to his feet, and pulled back a shutter of the window, letting
a flood of light into the hut. In that light I saw that he had in his
hands the ivory box which had contained the collar.

'I will carry the casket through the wars,' he cried, 'and if I choose
never to open it, who will gainsay me? You besotted fool, to think
that any theft of yours could hinder my destiny!' He was the blustering
savage again, and I preferred him in the part. All that he said might
be true, but I thought I could detect in his voice a keen regret, and
in his air a touch of disquiet. The man was a fanatic, and like all
fanatics had his superstitions.

'Yes,' I said, 'but when you mount the throne you speak of, it would be
a pity not to have the rubies on your neck after all your talk in the
cave.'

I thought he would have throttled me. He glowered down at me with
murder in his eyes. Then he dashed the casket on the floor with such
violence that it broke into fragments.

'Give me back the Ndhlondhlo,' he cried, like a petted child. 'Give me
back the collar of John.'

This was the moment I had been waiting for.

'Now see here, Mr Laputa,' I said. 'I am going to talk business.
Before you started t