her, according to their agreement. Derues pretended to look for his copy
of the contract, and could not find it. "Give me yours, madame," said
he; "we will write the receipt upon it. Here is the money."

The widow opened her purse and took out her copy; Derues snatched it, and
tore it up. "Now," he exclaimed, "you are paid; I owe you nothing now.
If you like, I will declare it on oath in court, and no one will
disbelieve my word."

"Wretched man," said the unfortunate widow, "may God forgive your soul;
but your body will assuredly end on the gallows!"

It was in vain that she complained, and told of this abominable swindle;
Derues had been beforehand with her, and the slander he had disseminated
bore its fruits. It was said that his old mistress was endeavouring by
an odious falsehood to destroy the reputation of a man who had refused to
be her lover. Although reduced to poverty, she left the house where she
had a right to remain rent free, preferring the hardest and dreariest
life to the torture of remaining under the same roof with the man who had
caused her ruin.

We might relate a hundred other pieces of knavery, but it must not be
supposed that having begun by murder, Derues would draw back and remain
contented with theft. Two fraudulent bankruptcies would have sufficed
for most people; for him they were merely a harmless pastime. Here we
must place two dark and obscure stories, two crimes of which he is
accused, two victims whose death groans no one heard.

The hypocrite's excellent reputation had crossed the Parisian bounds. A
young man from the country, intending to start as a grocer in the