eping-mat of Djalma, beside
which he squatted himself, so as to occupy as little space as possible.
Then began a fearful scene, by reason of the mystery and silence which
surrounded it.

Djalma's life was at the mercy of the Strangler. The latter, resting
upon his hands and knees, with his neck stretched forward, his eye fixed
and dilated, continued motionless as a wild beast about to spring. Only
a slight nervous trembling of the jaws agitated that mask of bronze.

But soon his hideous features revealed a violent struggle that was
passing within him--a struggle between the thirst, the craving for the
enjoyment of murder, which the recent assassination of the slave had
made still more active, and the orders he had received not to attempt
the life of Djalma, though the design, which brought him to the ajoupa,
might perhaps be as fatal to the young Indian as death itself. Twice did
the Strangler, with look of flame, resting only on his left hand, seize
with his right the rope's end; and twice his hand fell--the instinct of
murder yielding to a powerful will, of which the Malay acknowledged the
irresistible empire.

In him, the homicidal craving must have amounted to madness, for, in
these hesitations, he lost much precious time: at any moment, Djalma,
whose vigor, skill, and courage were known and feared, might awake from
his sleep, and, though unarmed, he would prove a terrible adversary. At
length the Thug made up his mind; with a suppressed sigh of regret, he
set about accomplishing his task.

This task would have appeared impossible to any one else. The reader may
judge.

Djalma, with his face turned towards the left, leaned his head upon his
curved arm. It was first necessary, without waking him, to oblige him to
turn his face towards the right (that is, towards the door), so that, in
case of his being half-roused, his first glance might not fall upon the
Strangler. The latter, to accomplish his projects, would have to remain
many minutes in the cabin.

The heavens became darker; the heat arrived at its last degree of
intensity; everything combined to increase the torpor of the sleeper,
and so favor the Strangler's designs. Kneeling down close to Djalma, he
began, with the tips of his supple, well-oiled fingers, to stroke the
brow, temples, and eyelids of the young Indian, but with such extreme
lightness, that the contact of the two skins was hardly sensible. When
this kind of magnetic incantation had lasted f