Pierre raised his head towards the sound; then after a moment, said:

"I know Fingall."

"And the woman? Tell me."

"And the girl. Fingall was all fire and heart, and devil-may-care.
She--she was not beautiful except in the eye, but that was like a flame
of red and blue. Her hair, too--then--would trip her up, if it hung
loose. That was all, except that she loved him too much. But women--et
puis, when a woman gets a man between her and the heaven above and the
earth beneath, and there comes the great hunger, what is the good! A man
cannot understand, but he can see, and he can fear. What is the good! To
play with life, that is not much; but to play with a soul is more than a
thousand lives. Look at Cynthie."

He paused, and Lawless waited patiently. Presently Pierre continued:

Fingall was gentil; he would take off his hat to a squaw. It made no
difference what others did; he didn't think--it was like breathing to
him. How can you tell the way things happen? Cynthie's father kept the
tavern at St. Gabriel's Fork, over against the great saw-mill. Fingall
was foreman of a gang in the lumberyard. Cynthie had a brother--Fenn.
Fenn was as bad as they make, but she loved him, and Fingall knew it
well, though he hated the young skunk. The girl's eyes were like two
little fire-flies when Fingall was about.

"He was a gentleman, though he had only half a name--Fingall--like that.
I think he did not expect to stay; he seemed to be waiting for
something--always when the mail come in he would be there; and afterwards