ocrisy. One of his sisters, a
novice in the convent of the Ladies of the Visitation of the Virgin, was
to take the veil at Easter. Derues obtained permission to be present at
the ceremony, and was to start on foot on Good Friday. When he departed,
the shop happened to be full of people, and the gossips of the
neighbourhood inquired where he was going. Madame Legrand desired him to
have a glass of liqueur (wine he never touched) and something to eat
before starting.

"Oh, madame!" he exclaimed, "do you think I could eat on a day like this,
the day on which Christ was crucified! I will take a piece of bread with
me, but I shall only eat it at the inn where I intend to sleep: I mean to
fast the whole way."

But this kind of thing was not sufficient. He wanted an opportunity to
establish a reputation for honesty on a firm basis. Chance provided one,
and he seized it immediately, although at the expense of a member of his
own family.

One of his brothers, who kept a public-house at Chartres, came to see
him. Derues, under pretence of showing him the sights of Paris, which he
did not know, asked his mistress to allow him to take in the brother for
a few days, which she granted. The last evening of his stay, Derues went
up to his room, broke open the box which contained his clothes, turned
over everything it contained, examined the clothes, and discovering two
new cotton nightcaps, raised a cry which brought up the household. His
brother just then returned, and Derues called him an infamous thief,
declaring that he had stolen the money for these new articles out of the
shop the evening before. His brother defended himself, protesting his
innocence, and, indignant at such incomprehensible treachery, endeavoured
to turn the tables by relating some of Antoine's early misdeeds. The
latter, however, stopped him, by declaring on his honour that he had seen
his brother the evening before go to the till, slip his hand in, and take
out some money. The brother was confounded and silenced by so audacious
a lie; he hesitated, stammered, and was turned out of the house. Derues
worthily crowned this piece of iniquity by obliging his mistress to
accept the restitution of the stolen money. It cost him three livres,
twelve sons, but the interest it brought him was the power of stealing
unsuspected. That evening he spent in prayer for the pardon of his
brother's supposed guilt.

All these schemes had succeeded, and brought him