th of the combatants appeared equal. At last
Count Colin and his men pressed closer on the royal army, and forced
them back by degrees towards Langaffer.

It seemed now that the enemy's troops were gaining; and groans of
despair broke forth from the villagers and countryfolk who watched with
throbbing hearts the issue of the day.

At this moment the knight who had been little Wattie's guest dashed
forward, mounted on a snow-white charger, his armour of polished steel
glistening, and his fair plume waving in the sunshine.

"Back with the faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the
traitor!" he cried, and rode to the front rank himself.

His word and action wrought like an enchantment on the soldiers. They
rallied round the white-plumed stranger, who soon was face to face with
false Colin. And then the hostile bands, with their rebel commander,
were in turn driven back, and back, and back across the plain, and right
under the beetling towers of the fortress of Ravenspur.

Now Wattie was standing near the ruin, and saw the combat, and heard the
sounds of the warriors' voices reverberating from the bend of the hill.
How his heart bounded at the brave knight's battle-cry: "_Back with the
faint-hearted, on with the brave, and down with the traitor!_" And then
indeed the blood seemed to stand still in his veins when he heard false
Colin exclaim, "Oh, had I the silver sword of Ravenspur!"

Ah! Wattie remembered the raven, and the one loose stone in the castle
wall.

In another instant his tiny figure was grappling with the trailing ivy
on the outer fencework of the fortress.

And now he is seen by false Colin, and now the archers bend their bows,
and the arrows fly past him on every side. But Wattie has hurled down a
stone into the old courtyard, and, from behind it, has drawn forth a
silver-hilted brand.

"He is so small that our arrows all miss him!" cry the archers. "Nay,"
cries false Colin, "but he bears the enchanted weapon of Ravenspur! Take
it from him, my men, and fetch it to me."

"Count Colin shall have the _point_ of the sword," cries Wattie, "but
the silver handle is for the white-plumed knight!" and, running round
the ledge of the castle wall to the highest turret, he flings the
shining weapon down amongst the men of Langaffer.

And now there was a fresh charge made on the enemy, and the "unknown
warrior," armed with the newly-found talisman, stood face to face, hand
to hand, with the traitor.