the more inflamed his resentment against him.

On finding his resolution irrevocable, she communicated to him in a
whisper the message which the stranger had sent him. Lamh Laudher,
after having heard it, raised his arm rapidly, and his eye gleamed with
something like the exultation of a man who has discovered a secret that
he had been intensely anxious to learn. Ellen could now delay no longer,
and their separation resembled that of persons who never expected to
meet again. If Lamh Laudher could at this moment have affected even a
show of cheerfulness, in spite of Ellen's depression it would have given
her great relief. Still, on her part, their parting was a scene of
agony and distress which no description could reach, and on his, it
was sorrowful and tender; for neither felt certain that they would ever
behold each other in life again.

A dark sunless morning opened the eventful day of this fearful battle.
Gloom and melancholy breathed a sad spirit over the town and adjacent
country. A sullen breeze was abroad, and black clouds drifted
slowly along the heavy sky. The Dead Boxer again had recourse to his
pageantries of death. The funeral bell tolled heavily during the whole
morning, and the black flag flapped more dismally in the sluggish blast
than before. At an early hour the town began to fill with myriads of
people. Carriages and cars, horsemen and pedestrians, all thronged in
one promiscuous stream towards the scene of interest. A dense multitude
stood before the inn, looking with horror on the death flag, and
watching for a glimpse of the fatal champion. From this place hundreds
of them passed to the house of Lamh Laudher More, and on hearing that
the son resided in his aunt's they hurried towards her cabin to gratify
themselves with a sight of the man who dared to wage battle with the
Dead Boxer. From this cabin, as on the day before, they went to the