aper carefully, the
handwriting was recognised as Derues'. The wine merchant sent for him,
and when he arrived, made him enter a room, and having locked the door,
produced the promissory note. Derues acknowledged having written it, and
tried various falsehoods to excuse himself. No one listened to him, and
the merchant threatened to place the matter in the hands of the police.
Then Derues wept, implored, fell on his knees, acknowledged his guilt,
and begged for mercy. He agreed to restore the six hundred livres
exacted from the wine merchant, on condition that he should see the note
destroyed and that the matter should end there. He was then about to be
married, and dreaded a scandal.

Shortly after, he married Marie-Louise Nicolais; daughter of a
harness-maker at Melun.

One's first impression in considering this marriage is one of profound
sorrow and utmost pity for the young girl whose destiny was linked with
that of this monster. One thinks of the horrible future; of youth and
innocence blighted by the tainting breath of the homicide; of candour
united to hypocrisy; of virtue to wickedness; of legitimate desires
linked to disgraceful passions; of purity mixed with corruption. The
thought of these contrasts is revolting, and one pities such a dreadful
fate. But we must not decide hastily. Madame Denies has not been
convicted of any active part in her husband's later crimes, but her
history, combined with his, shows no trace of suffering, nor of any
revolt against a terrible complicity. In her case the evidence is
doubtful, and public opinion must decide later.

In 1773, Derues relinquished retail business, and left the Saint Victor
neighbourhood, having taken an apartment in the rue des Deux Boules, near
the rue Bertin-Poiree, in the parish of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, where he
had been married. He first acted on commission for the
Benedictine-Camalduian fathers of the forest of Senart, who had heard of
him as a man wholly given to piety; then, giving himself up to usury, he
undertook what is known as "business affairs," a profession which, in
such hands, could not fail to be lucrative, being aided by his exemplary
morals and honest appearance. It was the more easy for him to impose on
others, as he could not be accused of any of the deadly vices which so
often end in ruin--gaming, wine, and women. Until now he had displayed
only one passion, that of avarice, but now another developed itself, that
of amb