these worthless bits of paper.

To add to Hanz's troubles, Chapman entered his house one day, and openly
reproached him for bringing distress on his friends. "You know you have
done wrong, old man," said he, assuming the air of an injured man. "You
would not have deceived me--no man would--but that I took you for a
Christian. And when I take a man for a Christian I put faith in him.
That's why I put faith in you. I believed you honest, you see."

Chapman's familiar and even rude manner surprised and confounded Hanz.
In vain he protested his innocence, and offered to call the Dominie and
Doctor Critchel to testify that he had never in his life wronged any man
out of a shilling.

"You sold us something you had not got," continued Chapman, in an angry
tone, "and in that you committed a fraud. Honest men don't do such
things--never! Mr. Toodlebug. I thought you were a friend; but you have
deceived me--have deceived us all!"

The plot was now beginning to develop itself, and Hanz for the first
time began to see what a singular chain of adverse circumstances Chapman
had drawn around him. Never before in his life had a man openly charged
him with doing wrong. Angeline was even more troubled than Hanz, and
listened with fear and trembling to the words as they fell from
Chapman's lips. What could have worked this change in a person who had
so recently expressed such friendship for them? Her pure, unsuspecting
soul would not permit her to entertain the belief that her husband could
do wrong. She attempted to speak and enquire what this strange and
unaccountable scene meant; but her eyes filled with tears, her face
became as pale as marble, and her resolution failed her. Her little,