The latter unwound from his waist a long thin cord, to one of the ends
of which was attached a leaden ball, of the form and size of an egg;
having fastened the other end of this cord to his right wrist, the
Strangler again listened, and then disappeared, crawling through the
tall grass in the direction of the Indian, who still advanced slowly,
without interrupting his soft and plaintive song.

He was a young fellow scarcely twenty, with a bronzed complexion, the
slave of Djalma, his vest of blue cotton was confined at the waist by a
parti-colored sash; he wore a red turban, and silver rings in his ears
and about his wrists. He was bringing a message to his master, who,
during the great heat of the day was reposing in the ajoupa, which stood
at some distance from the house he inhabited.

Arriving at a place where two paths separated, the slave, without
hesitation took that which led to the cabin, from which he was now
scarce forty paces distant.

One of those enormous Java butterflies, whose wings extend six or eight
inches in length, and offer to the eye two streaks of gold on a ground
of ultramarine, fluttering from leaf to leaf, alighted on a bush of Cape
jasmine, within the reach of the young Indian. The slave stopped in his
song, stood still, advanced first a foot, then a hand, and seized the
butterfly.

Suddenly he sees a dark figure rise before him; he hears a whizzing
noise like that of a sling; he feels a cord, thrown with as much
rapidity as force, encircle his neck with a triple band; and, almost in
the same instant, the leaden ball strikes violently against the back of
his head.

This attack was so abrupt and unforseen, that Djalma's servant could not
even utter a single cry, a single groan. He tottered--the Strangler gave
a vigorous pull at the cord--the bronzed countenance of the slave became
purple, and he fell upon his knees, convulsively moving his arms. Then
the Strangler threw him quite down, and pulled the cord so violently,
that the blood spurted from the skin. The victim struggled for a
moment--and all was over.

During his short but intense agony, the murderer, kneeling before his
victim, and watching with ardent eye his least convulsions, seemed
plunged into an ecstasy of ferocious joy. His nostrils dilated, the
veins of his neck and temples were swollen, and the same savage laugh,
which had curled his lips at the aspect of the sleeping Djalma, again
displayed his pointed black teeth, which