“You must be careful,” she whispered one day; “I have just heard two women in the tripe market talking about you know what. I can’t interrupt people and tell them they are lying, you know. It would look so strange. But the story’s got about, and it’s spreading farther every day. It can’t be stopped now, I fear; the truth will have to come out.”
A few days later she returned to the assault in all earnest. She made her appearance looking quite scared, and waited impatiently till there was no one in the shop, when she burst out in her sibilant voice:
“Do you know what people are saying now? Well, they say that all those men who meet at Monsieur Lebigre’s have got guns, and are going to break out again as they did in ‘48. It’s quite distressing to see such a worthy man as Monsieur Gavard—rich, too, and so respectable—leaguing himself with such scoundrels! I was very anxious to let you know, on account of your brother-in-law.”
“Oh, it’s mere nonsense, I’m sure; it can’t be serious,” rejoined Lisa, just to incite the old maid to tell her more.
“Not serious, indeed! Why, when one passes along the Rue Pirouette in the evening one can hear them screaming out in the most dreadful way. Oh! they make no mystery of it all. You know yourself how they tried to corrupt your husband. And the cartridges which I have seen them making from my own window, are they mere nonsense? Well, well, I’m only telling you this for your own good.”
“Oh! I’m sure of that, and I’m very much obliged to you,” replied Lisa; “but people do invent such stories, you know.”
“Ah, but this is no invention, unfortunately. The whole neighbourhood is talking of it. It is said, too, that if the police discover the matter there will be a great many people compromised—Monsieur Gavard, for instance.”
Madame Quenu shrugged her shoulders as though to say that Monsieur Gavard was an old fool, and that it would do him good to be locked up.
“Well, I merely mention Monsieur Gavard as I might mention any of the others, your brother-in-law, for instance,” resumed the old maid with a wily glance. “Your brother-in-law is the leader, it seems. That’s very annoying for you, and I’m very sorry indeed; for if the police were to make a descent here they might march Monsieur Quenu off as well. Two brothers, you know, they’re like two fingers of the same hand.”
Beautiful Lisa protested against this, but she turned very pale, for Mademoiselle Saget’s last thrust had touched a vulnerable point. From that day forward the old maid was ever bringing her stories of innocent people who had been thrown into prison for extending hospitality to criminal scoundrels. In the evening, when La Saget went to get her black-currant syrup at the wine dealer’s, she prepared her budget for the next morning. Rose was but little given to gossiping, and the old main reckoned chiefly on her own eyes and ears. She had been struck by Monsieur Lebigre’s extremely kind and obliging manner towards Florent, his eagerness to keep him at his establishment, all the polite civilities, for which the little money which the other spent in the house could never recoup him. And this conduct of Monsieur Lebigre’s surprised her the more as she was aware of the position in which the two men stood in respect to the beautiful Norman.