By this time they were all
under the spell of this mysterious mark. Those who hadn't recognized
it at once had been quickly enlightened by the others.
Ambrose seized Dominique by the shoulder and dragged him to his feet.
Swaying unsteadily, the mulatto looked around him through eyes
closed to snakelike slits.
"Raffin," said Ambrose, "you-all has on yo' back de Eye ob Voodoo.
Dese gennlemen hyar thinks yo' _is_ a Voodoo. Ah know yo' _ain't_!"
"I _am_ a Voodoo! An' you, you _sacre cochon_," hissed Raffin,
"I'll make you wish you had nevaire been born!"
"Well, jes' fo' de present," laughed Ambrose, good humour spreading
all over his face, "you-all had better git outa my way, an' stay
_out_! Git outa hyar _quick_!"
Dominique, his evil face twitching with fury, picked up the ragged
shreds of his coat and walked unsteadily out.
At his exit a dead silence fell upon the remaining members. Then
they gathered together in excited groups and discussed the incident
in heated undertones. Ambrose, quite unconcerned, took up a pack of
cards and commenced a game of solitaire.
He wasn't worrying. He knew that Dominique was no more a Voodoo than
he was. Startled at first, he had noticed that the eye had not been
carved in Dominique's back, as it should have been, but had been
tattooed.
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