Egil laughed, a hateful gloating laugh, and settled himself against
a tree to see the finish. As Helga's arm was flung up the second
time, the thrall leaped upon her and tore the whip from her grasp
and broke it in pieces. He would that he might have broken her as
well; he thirsted to, --when he caught sight of the laughing Egil,
and everything else was blotted out of his vision. Without a sound,
but with the animal passion for killing upon his white face, he
wheeled and leaped upon the Black One, crushing him, pinioning him
against the tree, strangling him with the grip of his hands.
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