“Then, in that case, there will be no difficulty in removing them.”
The response came brusquely enough, and to the point.
“That’s where you’re a fool. Do you suppose I’d share the plunder if there weren’t? If it was known that I was going to make myself scarce, let alone hooking off with this lot of goods, there’d be hell to pay. I haven’t stayed here all this time because I wanted; I had to. They made of me the thing you see; cut me to pieces; boiled, burned, and baked me; skinned me alive. Then they dipped me in a paint-pot and made of me a god. The next thing they’ll make of me’ll be a corpse; I can’t stand being pulled about with red-hot pincers like I used to. There’s a hundred adjectived priests about this adjectived show. They all want to have a finger in my pie. When I had a word with Luke here, and arranged with him to have a word with you, I sent the whole damned pack off miracle working at a place half-a-dozen miles away from here. We’ll have to be cleared off before they’re back or there’ll be fighting; they can fight! And the man who falls into their hands alive before they’ve done with him will curse his mother for ever having borne him.”
“How do you propose to go—walk?”
“Walk!” He laughed—a laugh which wasn’t nice to hear. “I haven’t walked for twenty years—since they burned my legs off so that I shouldn’t. When the Great Joss goes abroad he travels in his palanquin—there it is. And as he passes the people throw themselves on to the ground and hide their faces in the dust, lest, at the sight of his godlike form, they should fall dead. You’ll have to fetch your chaps, and be quick about it! They’ll have to carry me, and I’ll stuff the palanquin as full as it will hold with the things which are best worth taking. I know ’em!”
