n.

He stretched himself, gasping, and in the growing light I could see how
broken he was. His cheeks were falling in, and his sombre eyes had
shrunk back in their sockets. He seemed an old worn man standing there
among the ashes, while the blood, which he made no effort to staunch,
trickled down his side till it dripped on the floor. He had ceased to
be the Kaffir king, or the Christian minister, or indeed any one of his
former parts. Death was stripping him to his elements, and the man
Laputa stood out beyond and above the characters he had played,
something strange, and great, and moving, and terrible.

'We met for the first time three days ago,' he said, 'and now you will
be the last to see the Inkulu.'

'Umvelos' was not our first meeting,' said I. 'Do you mind the Sabbath
eight years since when you preached in the Free Kirk at Kirkcaple? I
was the boy you chased from the shore, and I flung the stone that
blacked your eye. Besides, I came out from England with you and
Henriques, and I was in the boat which took you from Durban to Delagoa
Bay. You and I have been long acquaint, Mr Laputa.'

'It is the hand of God,' he said solemnly. 'Your fate has been twisted
with mine, and now you will die with me.'

I did not understand this talk about dying. I was not mortally wounded
like him, and I did not think Laputa had the strength to kill me even
if he wished. But my mind was so impassive that I scarcely regarded
his words.

'I will make you rich,' he cried. 'Crawfurd, the storekeeper, will be
the richest man in Africa. We are scattered, and our wealth is
another's. He shall have the gold and the diamonds--all but the
Collar, which goes with me.'

He staggered into a dark recess, one of many in the cave, and I
followed him. There were boxes there, tea chests, cartridge cases, and
old brass-ribbed Portuguese coffers. Laputa had keys at his belt, and
unlocked them, his fingers fumbling with weakness. I peered in and saw
gold coin and little bags of stones.

'Money and diamonds,' he cried. 'Once it was the war chest of a king,
and now it will be the hoard of a trader. No, by the Lord! The
trader's place is with the Terrible Ones.' An arm shot out, and my
shoulder was fiercely gripped.

'You stole my horse. That is why I am dying. But for you I and my
army would be over the Olifants. I am going to kill you, Crawfurd,'
and his fingers closed in to my shoulder blades.

Still I was unperturbed