He was vaguely styled a poacher.

At any rate, he was lazy, for he was often found asleep on the grass when he should have been at work.

The hut he inhabited beneath the last trees on the edge of the forest did not seem at all like the dwelling of an honest young fellow.
If he had had dealings with the wolves of the ruins of Gagny the old women would not have been the least bit surprised.

Nevertheless, the young girls sometimes risked defending him, for this doubtful man was superb; supple and tall as a poplar, he had a very white skin, with flaxen hair and beard which gleamed like gold in the sun.
One fine morning Francoise declared to Pere Merlier that she loved Dominique and would never wed any other man.
It may well be imagined what a blow this was to Pere Merlier.

He said nothing, according to his custom, but his face grew thoughtful and his internal gaiety no longer sparkled in his eyes.