Thus the night passed. The robbers fell asleep in front of the fire; and, luckily for Sister Anne, their vile housekeeper did the same, and did not come to share the bed with the poor girl, who lay there all night, listening intently, quivering at the slightest sound in the next room, and praying to heaven to send her a rescuer. At daybreak, the ruffians woke; they hastily concealed their weapons, then went forth into the forest to work as woodcutters. Before he left, Leroux went to Sister Anne, smiled at her, patted her under the chin, and muttered under his breath: "To-night, my beauty, I'll say a couple of words to you." The unhappy girl could not evade those disgusting caresses. Not without an effort did she restrain her indignation. But he went away at last, on the heels of his companions, bidding Christine to keep a sharp lookout on her prisoner. When Sister Anne was alone with the robbers' female confederate, she was fain to endure the ill humor of that fury, who, being jealous of her presence there, tried to avenge herself by heaping all sorts of indignities upon her, being well assured that she could not complain of them. She laughed at her tears and gestures of entreaty, and the poor child felt that she would die if she did not escape soon from that horrible place. At night, the four men returned; they ate a little, then took their weapons, Leroux alone excepted. "Well! don't you propose to go out on the trail with us?" his companions asked him. "No, no, not yet; I'll join you later; but I'm glad of the chance to say a word to my little mute." As he said this, a bestial smile gleamed in his eyes, which were constantly fixed upon Sister Anne. "Oh, yes! I understand," said Pierre; "we'll let it pass to-day, but you mustn't let love make you forget your duty." "But if a well-lined post chaise should happen along," said Jacques, "we shan't be strong enough to attack." "Bah! it ain't likely that there'll be one to-night; anyway, I tell you I'll join you soon." "All right! all right! we'll get along without him; and if some rich prize does turn up, why, it will belong to us, and he won't get any of it." "That's fair enough, mates." The three men left the cabin, with a mocking glance at the dumb girl, who did not divine her impending peril, or the meaning of their smile. But when she saw that Leroux did not accompany them, she shuddered involuntarily and turned her eyes on Christine, as if she hoped for aid from her. But she, after glancing at her and at Leroux with the same mocking smile, went into the other room and slammed the door behind her. Sister Anne started to follow her, but when she saw that it was impossible she fell back on the straw on which she had been sitting; she trembled convulsively; she was alone with the brigand.