When the Place de Grève was reached the execrations of the mob had ceased, and "a deep and awful silence" prevailed, "so perfect that the voices of the executioner and Pirot could be plainly heard," says the chroniclers. I pass over harrowing details. The beautiful head of the poisoner was struck off by a single sword-stroke, and the executioner, turning to Pirot, said: "'It was well done, monsieur, and I hope madame has left me a trifle, for I deserve it.'" He then "calmly took a bottle from his pocket and refreshed himself with its contents." If the short extracts from the history of this great criminal have enabled my readers more clearly to understand and enjoy Leech's illustrations, my object in selecting them has been realized. CHAPTER X. "A MAN MADE OF MONEY."--DOUGLAS JERROLD. Knowing that this extraordinary book was illustrated by John Leech, and hearing that it contained some of his best work, it became my duty to make a sufficient acquaintance with the book to enable me to criticise and explain the drawings to my readers. I tried "skimming," but the power of the book, and the brilliancy of the wit in it, so attracted me that I read the whole of it. It is not my province, and it is certainly not in my power, to pose as a critic of literary work; and the hero--the man made of money, with a heart made of bank-notes instead of flesh and blood, containing within himself a bank that could be drawn upon to any amount--is so wonderful a being as to place him out of the category of human creatures, and altogether beyond criticism. This gentleman's name was Jericho. He had waited till he was forty, and then he married a widow with three children; two of them were girls, the third a young gentleman of whom those who knew him best said, "He was born for billiards." There was no love lost between Mr. Jericho and his step-children; in fact, they cordially hated him, and he returned the compliment. Their name was Pennibacker, inherited from their father, Captain Pennibacker, whose loving wife "was made a widow at two-and-twenty by an East Indian bullet." Mr. Jericho was one of that large class which, though really needy, manoeuvres successfully to be considered wealthy. His step-children considered him as "a rich plum-cake, to be sliced openly or by stealth among them." The widow Pennibacker was first attracted to him by "a whispered announcement that he was a City gentleman. Hence Jericho appeared to the imagination of the widow with an indescribable glory of money about him." Mrs. Jericho desired to make a few purchases, and she approached her husband with a cry familiar to most of us: "'Mr. Jericho, when can you let me have some money?'" The lady's confidence in her husband's wealth ought to have been shaken by what followed her application. Mr. Jericho turned a deaf ear to the appeal, which was repeated in every variety of tone and accent.