He struggled with the convicts, he called to Ayrton, he poured forth entreaties to that mysterious being,--that powerful unknown protector,--whose image was stamped upon his mind; then he again fell into a deep exhaustion which completely prostrated him.
Divagaba, luchaba contra los presidiarios, llamaba a Ayrton, suplicaba a aquel ser misterioso, a aquel protector, que ya había desaparecido y cuya imagen lo obsesionaba... Después volvió a caer en una postración profunda, que lo aniquilaba...