Without letting my shadow fall on the sleeper, it was possible to see my couch and the white furs on it, though it would be needful to raise the arm across the moonlight in the act of shooting.

It was all well planned, but it needed a first-rate bowman.
"It was surely Tregoz who shot," one of the men said.

"The sentry who was here was a bungler with a bow.

None whom we know but Tregoz could have made sure of that mark, bright as the night is.

Well it was, Lord, that you were not sleeping in your wonted place." Owen glanced at me to warn me to say nothing, and bade the men take the body to the guardroom.