not only forgot the counter-secret which had been, confided to him, but
every other consideration for the moment. With the spring of a tiger he
leaped towards the black, who by the act was completely thrown off his
guard. This was more than O'Rorke expected. The opportunity, however,
he did not suffer to pass; with the rapidity of lightning he struck the
savage on the neck, immediately under the ear. The Dead Boxer fell,
and from his ears, nostrils, and mouth the clear blood sprung out,
streaking, in a fearful manner, his dusky neck and chest. His second ran
to raise him, but his huge woolly head fell from side to side with an
appearance of utter lifelessness. In a few minutes, however, he rallied,
and began to snort violently, throwing his arms and limbs about him with
a quivering energy, such as, in strong men who die unwasted by disease,
frequently marks the struggle of death. At length he opened his eyes,
and after fastening them upon his triumphant opponent with one last
glare of hatred and despair, he ground his teeth, clenched his gigantic
hands, and stammering out, "Fury of hell! I--I--damnation!" This was his
last exclamation, for he suddenly plunged again, extended his shut fist
towards Lamh Laudher, as if he would have crushed him even in death,
then becoming suddenly relaxed, his head fell upon his shoulder, and
after one groan, he expired on the very spot where he had brought
together the apparatus of death for another.




CHAPTER VIII.


When the spectators saw and heard what had occurred, their acclamations
rose to the sky; cheer after cheer pealed from the graveyard over a