Pierre. "Marie-Anne is my sister, and
Carmin--whom you saw in my arms through the cabin window--"
He paused, smiling into David's staring eyes, taking full measure
of recompense in the other's heart-breaking attitude as he waited.
"--Is my wife, M'sieu David."
A great gasp of breath came out of Carrigan.
"Yes, my wife, and the greatest-hearted woman that ever lived,
without one exception in all the world!" cried St. Pierre, a
fierce pride in his voice. "It was she, and not Marie-Anne, who
shot you on that strip of sand, David Carrigan! Mon Dieu, I tell
you not one woman in a million would have done what she did--let
you live! Why? Listen, m'sieu, and you will understand at last.
She had a brother, years younger than she, and to that brother she
was mother, sister, everything, because they had no parents almost
from babyhood. She worshiped him. And he was bad. Yet the worse he
became, the more she loved him and prayed for him. Years ago she
became my wife, and I fought with her to save the brother. But he
belonged to the devil hand and foot, and at last he left us and
went south, and became what he was when you were sent out to get
him, Sergeant Carrigan.
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