“I done arrive’ at a decision,” she declared.  “I arrive’ at it in the watches of the night.  I’m goin’ to cure you ‘cordin’ to yer lights an’ knowledge.  I’m goin’ to lif’ that spell ef I has to purge my immortal soul to do it.”

“’Mandy,” cried Gordon Lee, eagerly, “you mean to say you gwine to remove the hoodoo?”

“I am,” she said solemnly.  “I’m goin’ to draw out all yer miseries fer the rest of yer life, includin’ of the cricket in yer leg.”

“’Mandy,” he cried again fearfully, “you ain’t gwine ter hurt me in no way, is you?”

“Not effen you do as I tell you.  But fust of all you got to take the pledge of silence.  Whatsomever takes place heah in this cabin to-night ain’t never to be revealed till the jedgment-day.  Do you swear?”

The big negro, fascinated with the mystery, and deeply impressed with his wife’s manner, laid his hand on the Bible and solemnly took the oath.

“Now,” she continued impressively, “while I go in the kitchen an’ git the supper started, I want you to ease yerse’f outen the bed on to the floor, an’ lay with yer head to the north an’ your han’s outspread, an’ yer mind on the heabenly kingdom.”

“Air you shore hit ain’t gwine hurt me?” again he queried.

“Not if you do ’zactly like I say.  Besides,” she added dryly, “if it comes to the worst, ain’t you ready an’ waitin’ to go!”

“Yas,” agreed Gordon Lee; “but I ain’t fixin’ to go till I’s sent fer.”

It took not only time, but courage, for him to follow the prescribed directions.  He had for a long time cherished the belief that any exertion would prove fatal; but the prospect of having the hoodoo removed, together with a lively curiosity as to what means Amanda would employ to remove it, spurred him to persist despite groans, wheezes, and ejaculations.

Once stretched upon the floor, with his head to the north and his arms extended, he encountered a new difficulty:  his mind refused to dwell upon the heavenly kingdom.  Anxiety as to the treatment he was about to be subjected to alternated with satisfaction at the savory odors that floated in from the kitchen.  If the ordeal was uncertain, the reward at least was sure.

After what seemed to him an endless vigil, Amanda appeared in the doorway.  With measured steps and great solemnity of mien, she approached, holding in her right hand a piece of white chalk.

“De hour has come,” she chanted.  “With this chalk, an’ around this man, I make the mark of his image.”  Stooping, she began to trace his outline on the dull rag-carpet, speaking monotonously as she worked:  “Gordon Lee Surrender Jones, I command all the aches an’ the pains, all the miseries an’ fool notions, includin’ the cricket in yer leg, to pass outen yer real body into this heah image on the floor.  Keep yer head still, nigger!  I pass ’em through you into yer symbol, an’ from thence I draws ’em out to satisfy yer mind now and forever more, amen.  Now roll over to the right an’ watch what’s about to happen.”