thus
deprive me of the means of paying at all."

"Don't believe him, my good man," said the hawker; "lying comes natural
to him always."

"Sir, I promise on my oath you shall be paid tomorrow; you had better
trust the word of an honest man rather than the ravings of a drunken
woman."

The creditor still hesitated, but, another person now spoke in Derues'
favour; it was the carpenter Mouchy, who had inquired the cause of the
quarrel.

"For God's sake," he exclaimed, "let the gentleman go on. That chest
came from my workshop, and I know there is wine inside it; he told my
wife so two days ago."

"Will you be surety for me, my friend?" asked Derues.

"Certainly I will; I have not known you for ten years in order to leave
you in trouble and refuse to answer for you. What the devil are
respectable people to be stopped like this in a public place? Come, sir,
believe his word, as I do."

After some more discussion, the porter was at last allowed to proceed
with his hand-cart. The hawker wanted to interfere, but Mouchy warned
her off and ordered her to be silent. "Ah! ah!" she cried, "what does it
matter to me? Let him sell his wine if he can; I shall not drink any on
his premises. This is the second time he has found a surety to my
knowledge; the beggar must have some special secret for encouraging the
growth of fools. Good-bye, gossip Derues; you know I shall be selling
your history some day. Meanwhile----

"The abominable history of Leroi de Valine, condemned to death at the age
of sixteen for having poisoned his entire family!"

Whilst she amused the people by her grimaces and grotesque gestures, and
while Mouchy held forth to some of them, Derues made his escape. Several
times between Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois and the rue de la Mortellerie he
nearly fainted, and was obliged to stop. While the danger lasted, he had
had sufficient self-control to confront it coolly, but now that he
calculated the depth of the abyss which for a moment had opened beneath
his feet, dizziness laid hold on him.

Other precautions now became necessary. His real name had been mentioned
before the commissionaire, and the widow Masson, who owned the cellar,
only knew him as Ducoudray. He went on in front, asked for the keys,
which till then had been left with her, and the chest was got downstairs
without any awkward questions. Only the porter seemed astonished that
this supposed wine, which was to be sold immediately, should