Hours afterward, although they seemed drawn out into years, the men began to breathe naturally, and a weird silence reigned in the cave. They were awake. The venerable Maude emerged from her doze, looked apprehensively at Sam, prodded the corner to see that the prize had not faded away, and then began ponderously to make preparations for a meal, supposedly breakfast. Meagre ablutions, such as they were, were performed in the "living room," a bucket of water serving as a general wash-basin. No one had removed his clothing during the night, not even his shoes. It seemed to her that the gang was in an ever-ready condition to evacuate the place at a moment's notice. Rosalie would not eat, nor would she bathe her face in the water that had been used by the quartette before her. Bill Briggs, with some sense of delicacy in his nature, brought some fresh water from the far end of the passageway. For this act he was reviled by his companions. "It's no easy job to get water here, Briggs," roared Sam. "We got to be savin' with it." "Well, don't let it hurt you," retorted Bill. "I'll carry it up from the river to-night. You won't have to do it." "She ain't any better'n I am," snorted Maude, "and nobody goes out to bring me a private bath, I take notice. Get up here and eat something, you rat! Do you want us to force it down you--" "If she don't want to eat don't coax her," said Sam. "She'll soon get over that. We was only hired to get her here and get her away again, and not to make her eat or even wash. That's nothing to us." "Well, she's got to eat or she'll die, and you know, Sam Welch, that ain't to be," retorted the old woman. "She'll eat before she'll die, Maudie; don't worry." "I'll never eat a mouthful!" cried Rosalie, a brave, stubborn light in her eyes. She was standing in the far corner drying her face with her handkerchief. "Oho, you can talk again, eh? Hooray! Now we'll hear the story of her life," laughed big Sam, his mouth full of bacon and bread. Rosalie flushed and the tears welled to her eyes. All day long she suffered taunts and gibes from the gang. She grew to fear Davy's ugly leers more than the brutal words of the others. When he came near she shrank back against the wall; when he spoke she cringed; when he attempted to touch her person she screamed. It was this act that brought Sam's wrath upon Davy's head. He won something like gratitude from the girl by profanely commanding Davy to confine his love to looks and not to acts. "She ain't to be harmed," was Sam's edict. "That goes, too." "Aw, you go to--" began Davy belligerently. "What's that?" snarled Sam, whirling upon him with a glare. Davy slunk behind his mother and glared back. Bill moved over to Sam's side. For a moment the air was heavy with signs of an affray. Rosalie crouched in her corner, her hand over her ears, her eyes closed. There was murder in Davy's face. "I'll break every bone in your body!" added Sam; but Bill laconically stayed him with a word.