try, who were collected together
under the pretext of a grand wolf-hunt, were distributed among them and
the governor's foresters and gamekeepers. The little force thus
collected, numbering about eighty men, were divided into two commands
under Megret and Arwed, and started the next night in many separate
divisions, which, though connected by patroles, presented no one
conspicuous mass which could excite the suspicions of the brigands.
Whilst Megret proceeded in this manner directly towards Ravensten,
Arwed sought to reach the other side of the rocks by a circuitous
route, so as to cut off any attempted retreat to the neighboring
mountains. The movement was successfully accomplished. Just before
sun-rise the two divisions almost simultaneously reached the foot of
the Ravensten, and slowly and cautiously ascended the narrow rocky
passes. They arrived at the summit without meeting with any
obstruction. There, one of the robber sentinels, being aroused, made a
stand and shot down one of the dragoons by Arwed's side. The shot not
only awakened the winged denizens of Ravensten, who rose affrighted and
screaming into the air, but also occasioned a movement in the towers,
and about twenty of the half naked brigands rushed out with such arms
as they could first seize in the confusion of the moment, and fell upon
the assailants. The strife was furious on both sides, but victory
finally inclined in favor of the greater number of the assailing
party;--want of experience was compensated by the circumspection and
bravery of their leaders, and the brigands were yielding ground, when a
small, fresh band, came forth to the battle and renewed the fight. At
their head was a tall, well-formed man, with a dark-colored face, who
first fired his pistols among the assailants, and then with great fury
fell upon the peasants, sword in hand, 'That is Black Naddock!'
they cried, every where retreating before him. The dragoons and
foresters, however, kept their ground, and the battle raged with
increased fierceness.

'That is the man who saved my life on the road to Tornea!' cried Arwed
to Megret.

'It is Mac Donalbain, artificially blackened!' exclaimed the latter
with envenomed scorn, attempting to fight his way to his hated rival;
but some of the brigands threw themselves before him, and kept him
fully employed; whilst Arwed constantly pressed nearer and nearer to
the blackamoor, and soon discovered the well-known features through his
disgui