"What is it?"
"Always the same. They say—trouble for Missy—great big trouble—she dunno yet what trouble is. Bimeby she find out, and then all de trouble go—like as if de sun come out and de rain leave off. All the same fortune."
"I don't understand it at all, Nigra. Why should trouble come to Miss Molly?"
"Cards don' tell that. Sometimes, Jack, de head"—she laid her hand on the skull of the monkey, or was it the skull of a child?—"de head tells me things. Befo' you come in de head was talking fine. He say, 'Lose to gain; lose to gain. Him no good. Bimeby bery fine man come along.' Dat's what de head said to-night."
"Nonsense, Nigra—a fleshless skull cannot speak."
"Dat's what de head say to me dis night," she replied, doggedly.
I looked at the skull, but it remained silent, grinning with the dreadful mockery of the death's head.
"Bimeby—bery fine man come along," Nigra repeated.
I laughed incredulous. Then she laid her hand upon my eyes for a moment—only for a moment. "Listen, then."
It was like a voice far away. I opened my eyes again. Before me sat, or stood unsupported, the skull, and nothing else. The room had vanished, Nigra and her tools and everything. The eyes of the skull were filled with a bright light, and the teeth moved, and the thing spoke. It said: "Lose to gain! Lose to gain! By and by a better man will come."