In the evening, as Pollock and Perera were playing cards, the Mendi rough came in through the doorway, carrying something in a blood-soaked piece of native cloth. "Not here!" said Pollock very hurriedly. "Not here!" But he was not quick enough to prevent the man, who was anxious to get to Pollock's side of the bargain, from opening the cloth and throwing the head of the Porroh man upon the table. It bounded from there on to the floor, leaving a red trail on the cards, and rolled into a corner, where it came to rest upside down, but glaring hard at Pollock. Perera jumped up as the thing fell among the cards, and began in his excitement to gabble in Portuguese. The Mendi was bowing, with the red cloth in his hand. "De gun!" he said. Pollock stared back at the head in the corner. It bore exactly the expression it had in his dreams. Something seemed to snap in his own brain as he looked at it. Then Perera found his English again. "You got him killed?" he said. "You did not kill him yourself?" "Why should I?" said Pollock. "But he will not be able to take it off now!" "Take _what_ off?" said Pollock. "And all dese cards are spoiled!" "_What_ do you mean by taking off?" said Pollock. "You must send me a new pack from Freetown. You can buy dem dere." "But--'take it off'?" "It is only superstition. I forgot. De niggers say dat if de witches--he was a witch-- But it is rubbish.... You must make de Porroh man take it off, or kill him yourself.... It is very silly." Pollock swore under his breath, still staring hard at the head in the corner. "I can't stand that glare," he said. Then suddenly he rushed at the thing and kicked it. It rolled some yards or so, and came to rest in the same position as before, upside down, and looking at him. "He is ugly," said the Anglo-Portuguese. "Very ugly. Dey do it on deir faces with little knives." Pollock would have kicked the head again, but the Mendi man touched him on the arm. "De gun?" he said, looking nervously at the head. "Two--if you will take that beastly thing away," said Pollock. The Mendi shook his head, and intimated that he only wanted one gun now due to him, and for which he would be obliged. Pollock found neither cajolery nor bullying any good with him. Perera had a gun to sell (at a profit of three hundred per cent.), and with that the man presently departed. Then Pollock's eyes, against his will, were recalled to the thing on the floor. "It is funny dat his head keeps upside down," said Perera, with an uneasy laugh. "His brains must be heavy, like de weight in de little images one sees dat keep always upright wid lead in dem. You will take him wiv you when you go presently. You might take him now. De cards are all spoilt. Dere is a man sell dem in Freetown. De room is in a filty mess as it is. You should have killed him yourself."