Then I must have
tottered in the saddle, for I felt an arm slip round my middle. The
rider uncorked a bottle with his teeth and forced some brandy down my
throat. I choked and coughed, and then looked up to see a white
policeman staring at me. I knew the police by the green
shoulder-straps.

'Arcoll,' I managed to croak. 'For God's sake take me to Arcoll.'

The man whistled shrilly on his fingers, and a second rider came
cantering down the road. As he came up I recognized his face, but
could not put a name to it. 'Losh, it's the lad Crawfurd,' I heard a
voice say. 'Crawfurd, man, d'ye no mind me at Lourenco Marques?
Aitken?'

The Scotch tongue worked a spell with me. It cleared my wits and
opened the gates of my past life. At last I knew I was among my own
folk.

'I must see Arcoll. I have news for him--tremendous news. O man, take
me to Arcoll and ask me no questions. Where is he? Where is he?'

'As it happens, he's about two hundred yards off,' Aitken said. 'That
light ye see at the top of the brae is his camp.'

They helped me up the road, a man on each side of me, for I could never
have kept in the saddle without their support. My message to Arcoll
kept humming in my head as I tried to put it into words, for I had a
horrid fear that my wits would fail me and I should be dumb when the
time came. Also I was in a fever of haste. Every minute I wasted
increased Laputa's chance of getting back to the kraal. He had men
with him every bit as skilful as Arcoll's trackers. Unless Arcoll had
a big force and the best horses there was no hope. Often in looking
back at this hour I have marvelled at the strangeness of my behaviour.
Here was I just set free from the certainty of a hideous death, and yet
I had lost all joy in my security. I was more fevered at the thought
of Laputa's escape than I had been at the prospect of David Crawfurd's
end.

The next thing I knew I was being lifted off the Schimmel by what
seemed to me a thousand hands. Then came a glow of light, a great
moon, in the centre of which I stood blinking. I was forced to sit
down on a bed, while I was given a cup of hot tea, far more reviving
than any spirits. I became conscious that some one was holding my
hands, and speaking very slowly and gently.

'Davie,' the voice said, 'you're back among friends, my lad. Tell me,
where have you been?'

'I want Arcoll,' I moaned. 'Where is Ratitswan?' There were tears of
weakness running d