“I don’t know your name,” I said to the Kaffir, “but you are a good fellow. When I get out of this business I won’t forget you.” “There is another message, Baas,” he said. “It is written on paper in a strange tongue. Turn your head to the bush, and see, I will hold it inside the bowl, that you may read it.” I did as I was told, and found myself looking at a dirty half-sheet of notepaper, marked by the Kaffir’s thumbs. Some words were written on it in Wardlaw’s hand; and, characteristically, in Latin, which was not a bad cipher. I read— _“Henricus de Letaba transeunda apud Duprei vada jam nos certiores fecit.”_[2] I had guessed rightly. Henriques was a traitor to the cause he had espoused. Arcoll’s message had given me new heart, but Wardlaw’s gave me information of tremendous value. I repented that I had ever underrated the schoolmaster’s sense. He did not come out of Aberdeen for nothing. I asked the Kaffir how far it was to Dupree’s Drift, and was told three hours’ march. We should get there after the darkening. It seemed he had permission to ride with me instead of ’Mwanga, who had no love for the job. How he managed this I do not know; but Arcoll’s men had their own ways of doing things. He undertook to set me free when the first shot was fired at the ford. Meantime I bade him leave me, to avert suspicion. There is a story of one of King Arthur’s knights—Sir Percival, I think—that once, riding through a forest, he found a lion fighting with a serpent. He drew his sword and helped the lion, for he thought it was the more natural beast of the two. To me Laputa was the lion, and Henriques the serpent; and though I had no good will to either, I was determined to spoil the serpent’s game. He was after the rubies, as I had fancied; he had never been after anything else. He had found out about Arcoll’s preparations, and had sent him a warning, hoping, no doubt, that, if Laputa’s force was scattered on the Letaba, he would have a chance of getting off with the necklace in the confusion. If he succeeded, he would go over the Lebombo to Mozambique, and whatever happened afterwards in the rising would be no concern of Mr Henriques. I determined that he should fail; but how to manage it I could not see. Had I had a pistol, I think I would have shot him; but I had no weapon of any kind. I could not warn Laputa, for that would seal my own fate, even if I were believed. It was clear that Laputa must go to Dupree’s Drift, for otherwise I could not escape; and it was equally clear that I must find the means of spoiling the Portugoose’s game. A shadow fell across the sunlight, and I looked up to see the man I was thinking of standing before me. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and his hands in the pockets of his riding-breeches. He stood eyeing me with a curious smile on his face. “Well, Mr Storekeeper,” he said, “you and I have met before under pleasanter circumstances.” I said nothing, my mind being busy with what to do at the drift.