s almost doubling on their track. Now and then a small
body touched the sheet for an instant, and then, with a soft little
tap, a vampire alighted on my chest. I was half sitting up, yet I
could not see him, for I had found that the least hint of light ended
any possibility of a visit. I breathed as quietly as I could, and made
sure that both hands were clear. For a long time there was no
movement, and the renewed swishes made me suspect that the bat had
again taken flight. Not until I felt a tickling on my wrist did I know
that my visitor had shifted and, unerringly, was making for the arm
which I had exposed. Slowly it crept forward, but I hardly felt the
pushing of the feet and pulling of the thumbs as it crawled along. If
I had been asleep, I should not have awakened. It continued up my
forearm and came to rest at my elbow. Here another long period of
rest, and then several short, quick shifts of body. With my whole
attention concentrated on my elbow, I began to imagine various
sensations as my mind pictured the long, lancet tooth sinking deep
into the skin, and the blood pumping up. I even began to feel the hot
rush of my vital fluid over my arm, and then found that I had dozed
for a moment and that all my sensations were imaginary. But soon a
gentle tickling became apparent, and, in spite of putting this out of
my mind and with increasing doubts as to the bat being still there,
the tickling continued. It changed to a tingling, rather pleasant than
otherwise, like the first stage of having one's hand asleep.

It really seemed as if this were the critical time. Somehow or other
the vampire was at work with no pain or even inconvenience to me, and
now was the moment to seize him, call for a lantern, and solve his
supersurgical skill, the exact method of this vespertilial
anaesthetist. Slowly, very slowly, I lifted the other hand, always
thinking of my elbow, so that I might keep all the muscles relaxed.
Very slowly it approached, and with as swift a motion as I could
achieve, I grasped at the vampire. I felt a touch of fur and I gripped
a struggling, skinny wing; there came a single nip of teeth, and the
wing-tip slipped through my fingers. I could detect no trace of blood
by feeling, so turned over and went to sleep. In the morning I found a
tiny scratch, with the skin barely broken; and, heartily disappointed,
I realized that my tickling and tingling had been the preliminary
symptoms of the operation.

Marvelous