The first thing that the two villains proceeded to do was to tie Dorothy’s hands, not too closely, however, behind her back.  It was useless to attempt resistance, as they were both powerful men, and they would only have dealt with her more roughly had she done so.  Then the cross-eyed one proposed that they should take her into the empty hut and tie her up.  If they succeeded in getting another rifle, as they expected they would, they could wait inside and shoot the rancher and Jacques as they unsuspiciously approached with the horses.  Bastien Lagrange could then be easily disposed of.  It would be necessary to put something in the girl’s mouth—­Leon suggested his old woollen head-gear which the bear had chewed up—­until her friends were ambushed, as otherwise she might give the alarm.  Afterwards they could dispose of her at their sweet leisure.  This and more they discussed with such candour and unreserve that had only the occasion and necessity been different, the greatest credit would have been reflected on them.

“Oh, you fiends!” cried the girl as the horror of the situation dawned upon her.  “Would you murder the men in cold blood who spared your lives when they had every right to take them?  You cowards!  Why don’t you shoot me?  Do you think I am afraid of being shot?”

It was all like some horrible nightmare to her just then.  Brief time seemed such an eternity that she longed for it to come to an end.  She felt like one who, dreaming, knows she dreams and struggles to awake.

The cross-eyed one was evidently delighted to see that he had at length aroused this hitherto wonderfully self-possessed girl to such a display of emotion; she looked ever so much handsomer now that she was angry.  His watery, awry eyes gleamed, and his thick underlip drooped complacently.  He would see if she had as much grit as she laid claim to.  It was all in the day’s sport; but he would have to hurry up.

He seized the Winchester, and, holding it in front of him, jerked down the lever as he had seen Dorothy do, so as to eject the old and put a fresh cartridge into the breech.  But the old cartridge, in springing out, flew up and hit him such a smart rap between the eyes that Leon at once seized his little opportunity and laughed ironically.

“Good shot, Lucien!” he cried.  “Encore, mon ami!”

Lucien’s eyes were watering and smarting, and he felt quite like shooting his sympathetic friend on the spot, but he kept his wrath bravely under, and resolved to show Leon in a very practical fashion how he could shoot on the first auspicious occasion.  Yes, such a blessed opportunity would be worth waiting and suffering for.

And now they prepared to remove Dorothy from the roof, and take her inside the hut.  Leon was to descend first, and then Lucien was to make her jump into the snowdrift, where she would stick, and Leon would be waiting for her.