raise the tribes, to set Africa aflame. He was to scatter it--broadcast,
broadcast! There was no end to it--don't spare it! "There's millions,
millions of it!" he shouted, and achieved a weird wild majesty in a final
cry, "God with us!"

Then he fell--tumbled back in utter collapse into the recesses of the
great chair. His scepter fell from his nerveless hand and rolled down the
steps of the dais; the impetus it gathered carried it, rolling still,
across the floor to the edge of the open pit; for an instant it lay
poised on the edge, and then fell with a jangle of sound on the carpet of
golden coins that lined Captain Duggle's grave.

"Quick! Get my bag--I left it in the passage," whispered Mary, as she
started forward, up the dais, to the old man's side. "And brandy, if
you've got it," she called after Beaumaroy, as he turned to the door to
do her bidding.

Beaumaroy was gone no more than a minute. When he came back, with the bag
hitched under his arm, a decanter of brandy in one band and a glass in
the other, Mary was leaning over the throne, with her arm round the old
man. His eyes were open, but he was inert and motionless. Beaumaroy
poured out some brandy, and gave it into Mary's free hand. But when Mr.
Saffron saw Beaumaroy by his side, he gave a sudden twist of his body,
wrenched himself away from Mary's arm, and flung himself on his trusted
friend. "Hector, I'm in danger! They're after me! They'll shut me up!"

Beaumaroy put his strong arms about the frail old body. "Oh no, sir, oh,
no!" he said in low, comforting, half-bantering tones. "That's the old
foolishness, sir, if I may so say. You're perfectly safe with me. You
ought to trust me by now, sir, really you ought."