Watching him with his restless and burning eye, the Strangler continued
his maneuvers with so much patience, that Djalma, still sleeping, but no
longer able to bear this vague, annoying sensation, raised his right hand
mechanically to his face, as if he would have brushed away an importunate
insect. But he had not strength to do it; almost immediately after, his
hand, inert and heavy, fell back upon his chest. The Strangler saw, by
this symptom, that he was attaining his object, and continued to stroke,
with the same address, the eyelids, brow, and temples.

Whereupon Djalma, more and more oppressed by heavy sleep, and having
neither strength nor will to raise his hand to his face, mechanically
turned round his head, which fell languidly upon his right shoulder,
seeking by this change of attitude, to escape from the disagreeable
sensation which pursued him. The first point gained, the Strangler could
act more freely.

To render as profound as possible the sleep he had half interrupted, he
now strove to imitate the vampire, and, feigning the action of a fan, he
rapidly moved his extended hands about the burning face of the young
Indian. Alive to a feeling of such sudden and delicious coolness, in the
height of suffocating heat, the countenance of Djalma brightened, his
bosom heaved, his half-opened lips drank in the grateful air, and he fell
into a sleep only the more invincible, because it had been at first
disturbed, and was now yielded to under the influence of a pleasing
sensation.

A sudden flash of lightning illumined the shady dome that sheltered the
ajoupa: fearing that the first clap of thunder might rouse the young
Indian, the Strangler hastened to complete his Task. Djalma lay on his