Frenchwoman?"

"Yes."

"Was her name Laroche?"

"Yes, that was it. Do you think that Lucile Laroche and Gabrielle--!"

"That Lucile Laroche and Gabrielle Rouget are one? Yes. But that Lucile
Laroche was the wife of your friend? Well, that is another matter. But
we shall see soon. Listen. A scoundrel, Henri Durien, was sent out here
for killing an American at cards. The jury called it murder, but
recommended him to mercy, and he escaped the guillotine. He had the
sympathy of the women, the Press did not deal hardly with him, and the
Public Prosecutor did not seem to push the case as he might have done.
But that was no matter to us. The woman, Gabrielle Rouget, followed
him here, where he is a prisoner for life. He is engaged in road-making
with other prisoners. She keeps the Cafe Voisin. Now here is the point
which concerns your story. Once, when Gabrielle was permitted to
see Henri, they quarrelled. I was acting as governor of the prison at
the time, saw the meeting and heard the quarrel. No one else was near.
Henri accused her of being intimate with a young officer of the post. I
am sure there was no truth in it, for Gabrielle does not have followers
of that kind. But Henri had got the idea from some source; perhaps by
the convicts' 'Underground Railway,' which has connection even with the
Hotel du Gouverneur. Through it the prisoners know all that is going on,
and more. In response to Henri's accusation Gabrielle replied: 'As I
live, Henri, it is a lie.' He sardonically rejoined: 'But you do not
live. You are dead, dead I tell you. You were found drowned and carried
to the Morgue and properly identified--not by me, curse you, Lucile