"You only escaped by a miracle."
"Thanks."
"I was not alone."
"Who else came to my assistance? tell me his name, that I may preserve it preciously in my memory."
"Marksman."
"Marksman!" the wounded man exclaimed, tenderly, "always he. Oh! I ought to have expected that name, for he loves me."
"Yes."
"And what is your name?"
"Brighteye."
The young man trembled, and held out his arm. "Your hand," he said; "you were right just now in saying you were a friend, you have been so for a long time, Marksman has often spoken to me about you."