'
"'The little arrows?' asked Henkel, heavily. 'I do not understand. Go
on.'
"'There is very little to tell. Only a nightmare of hunger, of wet,
of fever, of silence, and the little poisoned arrows quivering
everywhere. And one day a little dart flickered through a rent in the
cotton tenting and struck Louis. He died in five minutes. Then I and
the men who were left broke through and came down the Mazzaron. The
Indies followed us, and I am the only one left. It is a pity the
clocks wouldn't tick, Mister Henkel.'
"'Ya, ya,' said Henkel, leaning over the table, 'but the butterfly?
The golden butterfly? You have found it?'
"Scott opened the tin case slowly and clumsily, drew out the perfect
insect, and laid it on the table. But it is wrong to speak of that
wide-winged loveliness of glittering and transparent gold as an
'insect.' Henkel sat staring at it, one big yellowish hand curved on
either side of it, too happy to speak. His lips moved, and I fancied
he was saying to himself, 'Cheap, cheap.'
"'It is very good,' he said at last, cunningly, 'but I am sorry there
is only one. I do not know that it is worth very much. But now I will
pay you as I promised. There was no agreement that you should receive
the other young man's share, and there is only one insect. But I will
pay you.'
"Scott was fumbling in his belt. 'Yes,' he said, 'you will pay me,'
and he leaned forward with something in his hand. We saw Henkel's face
turn to yellow wax, and he tried to stand up, but he was too stout to
lift himself quickly.
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