It was the best thing to be done under the circumstances, and yet, when the maddened catamount, squirming around as if it were made of rubber, caught the stock in its teeth, and tore at the gun with its terrible claws, there seemed small chance of Raoul being able to repeat the blow.
Happily this was not necessary on his part, for Madame, who had been perfectly composed throughout, having picked up a stout stick, came to his assistance, and, with a clever blow delivered just behind the puma's ear, put an end to its existence.
"Bravo, Aunt Constance!" cried Raoul delightedly. "You've done for him, and just in time, too! He was pulling the gun out of my hands."
There was the light of triumph in Madame la Tour's fine eyes as she turned the dead thing over with her stick.
"He meant us mischief, Raoul," she said, "and he has paid dearly for it. If he had left us alone he would not be lying there now. Let us kneel down and thank God for our deliverance."
And so they knelt together, while Madame, in a few fervent sentences, expressed their gratitude to Providence for having thus protected them from injury.
As they hastened homeward, Madame said in a low tone, as if talking to herself rather than to Raoul:
"This is a wild, dangerous country, and I grow very weary of it. I pray that I may be spared to get back to France some day."
Raoul heard these words with some surprise. His aunt always seemed so busy and content in the doing of her duty, that he did not suppose she was not as happy as he was himself, but his quick sympathy inspired him to ask:
"Shall we be going back to France some day, Aunt Constance?"