"That! oh! she don't amount to much," replied the tall woman, shortly. "Isn't she your child?" "No, monsieur," said Leroux; "she's an unfortunate deaf mute that I found in the forest; and we took her in from charity. She'll soon be a mother, and I took pity on her." "That does you honor, monsieur; the poor thing is so young, and her face so sweet! Haven't you been able to find out where she came from, or her name?" "How in the devil do you suppose one can find out anything from a deaf and dumb woman? However, it don't make much difference; she's pretty near an idiot, too, I think; but I'll keep her here." When she heard this, Sister Anne rose and walked slowly toward the stranger, still gazing at him with an expression of interest blended with compassion. "Well, well! what's she doing?" said Leroux; "the poor girl has surely lost her reason! Make her go into the other room, Christine; it's time she went to bed." Christine pushed the dumb girl roughly toward the door of the rear room. Sister Anne left the stranger's presence with profound regret; she would have liked to keep him in sight, because she took the liveliest interest in his welfare; but she was forced to obey. She walked slowly toward the door, still looking at the stranger, who seemed touched by the intensity of her gaze and followed her with his eyes until the door closed upon her. Christine went into the rear room with Sister Anne; she looked through the window, and seemed disturbed by the non-return of the robbers. The dumb girl lay down on the pallet, not to sleep, but to reflect upon the means of saving the stranger by warning him of the risk he ran if he remained in the cabin. How could she gain access to him, and how make herself understood? At that moment, Leroux entered the room and closed the door carefully; then he went up to Christine, and, thanks to their conviction that Sister Anne could not hear them, she was soon made acquainted with their plans. "Well! can't you hear them coming?" asked Leroux. "No; I can't hear anything." "It's very strange! what can they be doing in the forest since that man got here? I don't feel easy in my mind; he said something about horses and constables. Suppose our friends are arrested!" "The devil! would they sell us?" "Hark ye! when this stranger's had his supper and gone to sleep, I'll go out and try to find out something. If the others are in the forest, I know where to find 'em. If they're taken or gone, we'll take advantage of the stranger's sleep to make way with him, and with what he has on him we'll do well to get out of danger ourselves by leaving the forest." "That's a good idea; give him his supper, and let him go to sleep; and then, when you come back, we'll go to work. Meanwhile, I'll lie down and rest a bit." "Yes, do; don't be afraid but what I'll wake you when I need you."