"Oho! she's got money, and she offers it to us; that's good! Parbleu! give it here, give it here, girl!"
As he spoke, Pierre snatched the bag from Sister Anne, who was stupefied at being thus forcibly despoiled of her treasure; while the robbers greedily counted its contents.
"Three gold pieces, as I'm alive!" cried Jacques; and the brigands' faces gleamed with savage joy. "That's more'n we've made in five days!"
"Didn't I tell you this wasn't a bad find?" rejoined Leroux. "Come, comrades, let's take this girl to our hole, and have a good time."
With that, the fellow seized Sister Anne's arm and dragged her into the forest; Jacques took charge of the bundle, Pierre followed him, and Franck, the fourth man, taking the lantern from Leroux's hand, went ahead to light his companions.
The dumb girl walked unresistingly in the midst of the robbers, still not realizing the horror of her position; she thought they were taking her to their home, to their wives and children. But their brutal features, their abrupt and insolent manners, the weapons they carried, and the strangeness of their language, inspired her with a terror she could not control. She glanced timidly at them again and again, hoping to find, for her comfort, a look of sympathy or pity on their faces; but whenever she raised her eyes, they met Leroux's fastened upon her and blazing with brutal passion. That ruffian's features intensified the fear caused by his manners: his curly hair corresponded in color with his name, which his companions had given him on that account; his pale, gray eyes rolled this way and that with amazing rapidity; his mouth, about which a ferocious smile always lurked, was surmounted by heavy moustaches of the color of his hair; and a broad scar, extending from the top of the nose to the bottom of the left ear, put the finishing touch to his sinister countenance. He had one arm about the girl's body, supporting her as they walked rapidly along the forest paths, while the other bandits, by their actions and their speech, momentarily added to Sister Anne's alarm.
The robbers lived in a wretched hovel in the heart of the forest; by day, they passed for poor woodcutters, being careful to keep their weapons out of sight in a cellar under their den. But at night they armed themselves to the teeth and betook themselves to the highroad, where, when they considered that they were sufficiently numerous, they attacked belated travellers.
Sister Anne was surprised that they had to go so far to reach their home, and even more surprised by the almost impassable paths they chose. At last, after walking more than an hour, they led her down into a ravine, amid dense underbrush. Soon she made out a flickering light in the window of a hut, and a woman opened the door after the robbers had whistled several times.
The appearance of one of her own sex cheered Sister Anne for a moment; but when she looked closely at the woman who appeared in the doorway, her short-lived hope vanished. In truth, the aspect of the robbers' companion was not calculated to restore tranquillity to the unhappy girl's mind: she was a tall woman, shockingly thin, and her strongly marked features wore an expression of calm, cold cruelty which pointed to absolute lack of sensibility; her face was of a livid pallor; a red silk handkerchief covered her head, and a handful of rags barely concealed her emaciated body.
"Here we are, Christine," cried the brigands, as they approached. "We've got a prize; we've brought you a companion you can't quarrel with."