"I am extremely anxious to do so."
"You will soon have the opportunity. It is now five o'clock. In a few minutes he will be here."
"What, after making an appointment so long ago, you expect him to keep it to the minute!"
"Yes; it is the politeness of the desert, from which nothing absolves but death."
"A summary excuse, truly," said Oliver.
"Listen," cried Bright-eye.
Oliver listened, and distinctly heard in the distance the trampling of a horse, which suddenly ceased, to be followed by the cry of the goshawk.
Bright-eye responded with a similar cry, and with such perfection that the Frenchman mechanically raised his head in search of the bird.
Then the sound of a horse galloping recommenced, the bushes parted violently, and a horseman bounded into the clearing, checking his steed so artistically that next moment he stood like a centaur rooted to the ground.
The rider was very much as Bright-eye had described him. There was about him, moreover, an air of grandeur, a majesty which inspired respect without repelling sympathy. One glance sufficed to fix him as a man of superior nature.