Smyth already heard just below them the wild screaming of some ravens, who
had been disturbed by the encounter; when he made a desperate effort on
the very brink of the precipice--tore from his assailant's murderous
grasp--and in another instant there was a void before him; a wild shriek of
despair arose in the night blast, as the wretch bounded from crag to
crag--and then there was a death-like stillness.
Smyth paused not to reflect. Dart was no where visible. He, therefore,
descended as fast as possible, and after one or two falls occasioned by
his impatience and the darkness of the night, at last entered on what
appeared to be a vast moor. In a short time the moon rose. Two immense
parallel masses of dense clouds stretched across the entire horizon; the
upper limb of the planet, of a deep crimson, was alone visible betwixt
them, and shed a sombre light over the waste. He thought he had seldom
seen any thing so impressive; combined with the low moaning of the
night-breeze, which rose and sank at intervals, with a wild and wailing
murmur.
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