"I want to see red necks on the lot of you," says Tomba, repeating the Overseer’s favorite aphorism. "Tomorrow, red necks all around, save for this Blackamoor—there’s only one way to give him a red neck and that’s with the lash." Tomba gets his hands underneath him, and pushes himself up on to all fours, then hangs his head low and lets his dreadlocks sweep the floor, he’s so woozy.