For some time past Marjolin had seen handsome Lisa every day, in the morning.  She would pass Gavard’s stall, and stop for a moment or two to chat with the poultry dealer.  She now did her marketing herself, so that she might be cheated as little as possible, she said.  The truth, however, was that she wished to make Gavard speak out.  In the pork shop he was always distrustful, but at his stall he chatted and talked with the utmost freedom.  Now, Lisa had made up her mind to ascertain from him exactly what took place in the little room at Monsieur Lebigre’s; for she had no great confidence in her secret police office, Mademoiselle Saget.  In a short time she learnt from the incorrigible chatterbox a lot of vague details which very much alarmed her.  Two days after her explanation with Quenu she returned home from the market looking very pale.  She beckoned to her husband to follow her into the dining-room, and having carefully closed the door she said to him:  “Is your brother determined to send us to the scaffold, then?  Why did you conceal from me what you knew?”

Quenu declared that he knew nothing.  He even swore a great oath that he had not returned to Monsieur Lebigre’s, and would never go there again.

“You will do well not to do so,” replied Lisa, shrugging her shoulders, “unless you want to get yourself into a serious scrape.  Florent is up to some evil trick, I’m certain of it!  I have just learned quite sufficient to show me where he is going.  He’s going back to Cayenne, do you hear?”

Then, after a pause, she continued in calmer ones:  “Oh, the unhappy man!  He had everything here that he could wish for.  He might have redeemed his character; he had nothing but good examples before him.  But no, it is in his blood!  He will come to a violent end with his politics!  I insist upon there being an end to all this!  You hear me, Quenu?  I gave you due warning long ago!”

She spoke the last words very incisively.  Quenu bent his head, as if awaiting sentence.

“To begin with,” continued Lisa, “he shall cease to take his meals here.  It will be quite sufficient if we give him a bed.  He is earning money; let him feed himself.”

Quenu seemed on the point of protesting, but his wife silenced him by adding energetically: 

“Make your choice between him and me.  If he remains here, I swear to you that I will go away, and take my daughter with me.  Do you want me to tell you the whole truth about him?  He is a man capable of anything; he has come here to bring discord into our household.  But I will set things right, you may depend on it.  You have your choice between him and me; you hear me?”