His frame appeared actually agitated with inward glee, and indeed a more appalling species of mirth was never witnessed.
It was just when he approached Lamh Laudher, chuckling hideously, his black visage reddened with blood, that a voice from the crowd shouted-- "He's laughing--the blow's coming--O'Rorke, remember your instructions." The Boxer advanced, and began a series of feints, with the intention of giving that murderous blow which he was never known to miss.

But before he could put his favorite stratagem in practice, the activity of O'Rorke anticipated his _ruse_, for in the dreadful energy of his resentment he 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.