Laputa had keys at his belt, and unlocked them, his fingers fumbling with weakness.

I peered in and saw gold coin and little bags of stones.
'Money and diamonds,' he cried.

'Once it was the war chest of a king, and now it will be the hoard of a trader.

No, by the Lord! The trader's place is with the Terrible Ones.' An arm shot out, and my shoulder was fiercely gripped.
'You stole my horse.

That is why I am dying.