"I am better," said the old man. "I don't know what strange pains
in the head attacked me yesterday, but the sun has quite chased
them away, with the clouds of the night."
"In faith, master," returned Aubert, "I don't like the night for
either of us!"
"And thou art right, Aubert. If you ever become a great man, you
will understand that day is as necessary to you as food. A great
savant should be always ready to receive the homage of his
fellow-men."
"Master, it seems to me that the pride of science has possessed
you."
"Pride, Aubert! Destroy my past, annihilate my present, dissipate
my future, and then it will be permitted to me to live in
obscurity! Poor boy, who comprehends not the sublime things to
which my art is wholly devoted! Art thou not but a tool in my
hands?"
"Yet. Master Zacharius," resumed Aubert, "I have more than once
merited your praise for the manner in which I adjusted the most
delicate parts of your watches and clocks."
"No doubt, Aubert; thou art a good workman, such as I love; but
when thou workest, thou thinkest thou hast in thy hands but
copper, silver, gold; thou dost not perceive these metals, which
my genius animates, palpitating like living flesh! So that thou
wilt not die, with the death of thy works!"
Master Zacharius remained silent after these words; but Aubert
essayed to keep up the conversation.
"Indeed, master," said he, "I love to see you work so
unceasingly! You will be ready for the festival of our
corporation, for I see that the work on this crystal watch is
going forward famously."
"No doubt, Aubert," cried the old watchmaker, "and it will be no
slight honour for me to have been able to cut and shape the
crystal to the durability of a diamond! Ah, Louis Berghem did
well to perfect the art of diamond-cutting, which has enabled me
to polish and pierce the hardest stones!"
Master Zacharius was holding several small watch pieces of cut
crystal, and of exquisite workmanship. The wheels, pivots, and
case of the watch were of the same material, and he had employed
remarkable skill in this very difficult task.
"Would it not be fine," said he, his face flushing, "to see this
watch palpitating beneath its transparent envelope, and to be
able to count the beatings of its heart?"
"I will wager, sir," replied the young apprentice, "that it will
not vary a second in a year."
"And you would wager on a certainty! Have I not imparted to it
all that is purest of myself? And does my heart vary? My heart, I
say?"
Aubert did not dare to lift his eyes to his master's face.
"Tell me frankly," said the old man sadly. "Have you never taken
me for a madman? Do you not think me sometimes subject to
dangerous folly? Yes; is it not so? In my daughter's eyes and
yours, I have often read my condemnation. Oh!" he cried, as if in
pain, "to be misunderstood by those whom one most loves in the
world! But I will prove victoriously to thee, Aubert, that I am
right! Do not shake thy head, for thou wilt be astounded. The day
on which thou understandest how to listen to and comprehend me,
thou wilt see that I have discovered the secrets of existence,
the secrets of the mysterious union of the soul with the body!"
[Illustration: "Thou wilt see that I have discovered the secrets
of existence."]
As he spoke thus, Master Zacharius appeared superb in his vanity.
His eyes glittered with a supernatural fire, and his pride
illumined every feature. And truly, if ever vanity was excusable,
it was that of Master Zacharius!
The watchmaking art, indeed, down to his time, had remained
almost in its infancy. From the day when Plato, four centuries
before the Christian era, invented the night watch, a sort of
clepsydra which indicated the hours of the night by the sound and
playing of a flute, the science had continued nearly stationary.
The masters paid more attention to the arts than to mechanics,
and it was the period of beautiful watches of iron, copper, wood,
silver, which were richly engraved, like one of Cellini's ewers.
They made a masterpiece of chasing, which measured time
imperfectly, but was still a masterpiece. When the artist's
imagination was not directed to the perfection of modelling, it
set to work to create clocks with moving figures and melodious
sounds, whose appearance took all attention. Besides, who
troubled himself, in those days, with regulating the advance of
time? The delays of the law were not as yet invented; the
physical and astronomical sciences had not as yet established
their calculations on scrupulously exact measurements; there were
neither establishments which were shut at a given hour, nor
trains which departed at a precise moment. In the evening the
curfew bell sounded; and at night the hours were cried amid the
universal silence. Certainly people did not live so long, if
existence is measured by the amount of business done; but they
lived better. The mind was enriched with the noble sentiments
born of the contemplation of chefs-d'oeuvré. They built a church
in two centuries, a painter painted but few pictures in the
course of his life, a poet only composed one great work; but
these were so many masterpieces for after-ages to appreciate.
When the exact sciences began at last to make some progress,
watch and clock making followed in their path, though it was
always arrested by an insurmountable difficulty,--the regular and
continuous measurement of time.
It was in the midst of this stagnation that Master Zacharius
invented the escapement, which enabled him to obtain a mathematical
regularity by submitting the movement of the pendulum to a sustained
force. This invention had turned the old man's head. Pride, swelling
in his heart, like mercury in the thermometer, had attained the
height of transcendent folly. By analogy he had allowed himself to
be drawn to materialistic conclusions, and as he constructed his
watches, he fancied that he had discovered the secrets of the union
of the soul with the body.
Thus, on this day, perceiving that Aubert listened to him
attentively, he said to him in a tone of simple conviction,--
"Dost thou know what life is, my child? Hast thou comprehended
the action of those springs which produce existence? Hast thou
examined thyself? No. And yet, with the eyes of science, thou
mightest have seen the intimate relation which exists between
God's work and my own; for it is from his creature that I have
copied the combinations of the wheels of my clocks."
"Master," replied Aubert eagerly, "can you compare a copper or
steel machine with that breath of God which is called the soul,
which animates our bodies as the breeze stirs the flowers? What
mechanism could be so adjusted as to inspire us with thought?"
"That is not the question," responded Master Zacharius gently,
but with all the obstinacy of a blind man walking towards an
abyss. "In order to understand me, thou must recall the purpose
of the escapement which I have invented. When I saw the irregular
working of clocks, I understood that the movements shut up in
them did not suffice, and that it was necessary to submit them to
the regularity of some independent force. I then thought that the
balance-wheel might accomplish this, and I succeeded in
regulating the movement! Now, was it not a sublime idea that came
to me, to return to it its lost force by the action of the clock
itself, which it was charged with regulating?"
Aubert made a sign of assent.
"Now, Aubert," continued the old man, growing animated, "cast
thine eyes upon thyself! Dost thou not understand that there are
two distinct forces in us, that of the soul and that of the
body--that is, a movement and a regulator? The soul is the
principle of life; that is, then, the movement. Whether it is
produced by a weight, by a spring, or by an immaterial influence,
it is none the less in the heart. But without the body this
movement would be unequal, irregular, impossible! Thus the body
regulates the soul, and, like the balance-wheel, it is submitted
to regular oscillations. And this is so true, that one falls ill
when one's drink, food, sleep--in a word, the functions of the
body--are not properly regulated; just as in my watches the soul
renders to the body the force lost by its oscillations. Well, what
produces this intimate union between soul and body, if not a
marvellous escapement, by which the wheels of the one work into the
wheels of the other? This is what I have discovered and applied;
and there are no longer any secrets for me in this life, which is,
after all, only an ingenious mechanism!"
Master Zacharius looked sublime in this hallucination, which
carried him to the ultimate mysteries of the Infinite. But his
daughter Gerande, standing on the threshold of the door, had
heard all. She rushed into her father's arms, and he pressed her
convulsively to his breast.
"What is the matter with thee, my daughter?" he asked.
"If I had only a spring here," said she, putting her hand on her
heart, "I would not love you as I do, father."
Master Zacharius looked intently at Gerande, and did not reply.
Suddenly he uttered a cry, carried his hand eagerly to his heart,
and fell fainting on his old leathern chair.
"Father, what is the matter?"
[Illustration: "Father, what is the matter?"]
"Help!" cried Aubert. "Scholastique!"
But Scholastique did not come at once. Some one was knocking at
the front door; she had gone to open it, and when she returned to
the shop, before she could open her mouth, the old watchmaker,
having recovered his senses, spoke:--
"I divine, my old Scholastique, that you bring me still another
of those accursed watches which have stopped."
"Lord, it is true enough!" replied Scholastique, handing a watch
to Aubert.
"My heart could not be mistaken!" said the old man, with a sigh.
Meanwhile Aubert carefully wound up the watch, but it would not
go.
CHAPTER III.
A STRANGE VISIT.
Poor Gerande would have lost her life with that of her father,
had it not been for the thought of Aubert, who still attached her
to the world.
The old watchmaker was, little by little, passing away. His
faculties evidently grew more feeble, as he concentrated them on
a single thought. By a sad association of ideas, he referred
everything to his monomania, and a human existence seemed to have
departed from him, to give place to the extra-natural existence
of the intermediate powers. Moreover, certain malicious rivals
revived the sinister rumours which had spread concerning his
labours.
The news of the strange derangements which his watches betrayed
had a prodigious effect upon the master clockmakers of Geneva.
What signified this sudden paralysis of their wheels, and why
these strange relations which they seemed to have with the old
man's life? These were the kind of mysteries which people never
contemplate without a secret terror. In the various classes of
the town, from the apprentice to the great lord who used the
watches of the old horologist, there was no one who could not
himself judge of the singularity of the fact. The citizens
wished, but in vain, to get to see Master Zacharius. He fell very
ill; and this enabled his daughter to withdraw him from those
incessant visits which had degenerated into reproaches and
recriminations.
Medicines and physicians were powerless in presence of this
organic wasting away, the cause of which could not be discovered.
It sometimes seemed as if the old man's heart had ceased to beat;
then the pulsations were resumed with an alarming irregularity.
A custom existed in those days of publicly exhibiting the works
of the masters. The heads of the various corporations sought to
distinguish themselves by the novelty or the perfection of their
productions; and it was among these that the condition of Master
Zacharius excited the most lively, because most interested,
commiseration. His rivals pitied him the more willingly because
they feared him the less. They never forgot the old man's
success, when he exhibited his magnificent clocks with moving
figures, his repeaters, which provoked general admiration, and
commanded such high prices in the cities of France, Switzerland,
and Germany.
Meanwhile, thanks to the constant and tender care of Gerande and
Aubert, his strength seemed to return a little; and in the
tranquillity in which his convalescence left him, he succeeded in
detaching himself from the thoughts which had absorbed him. As
soon as he could walk, his daughter lured him away from the
house, which was still besieged with dissatisfied customers.
Aubert remained in the shop, vainly adjusting and readjusting the
rebel watches; and the poor boy, completely mystified, sometimes
covered his face with his hands, fearful that he, like his
master, might go mad.
Gerande led her father towards the more pleasant promenades of
the town. With his arm resting on hers, she conducted him
sometimes through the quarter of Saint Antoine, the view from
which extends towards the Cologny hill, and over the lake; on
fine mornings they caught sight of the gigantic peaks of Mount
Buet against the horizon. Gerande pointed out these spots to her
father, who had well-nigh forgotten even their names. His memory
wandered; and he took a childish interest in learning anew what
had passed from his mind. Master Zacharius leaned upon his
daughter; and the two heads, one white as snow and the other
covered with rich golden tresses, met in the same ray of
sunlight.
So it came about that the old watchmaker at last perceived that
he was not alone in the world. As he looked upon his young and
lovely daughter, and on himself old and broken, he reflected that
after his death she would be left alone without support. Many of
the young mechanics of Geneva had already sought to win Gerande's
love; but none of them had succeeded in gaining access to the
impenetrable retreat of the watchmaker's household. It was
natural, then, that during this lucid interval, the old man's
choice should fall on Aubert Thun. Once struck with this thought,
he remarked to himself that this young couple had been brought up
with the same ideas and the same beliefs; and the oscillations of
their hearts seemed to him, as he said one day to Scholastique,
"isochronous."
The old servant, literally delighted with the word, though she
did not understand it, swore by her holy patron saint that the
whole town should hear it within a quarter of an hour. Master
Zacharius found it difficult to calm her; but made her promise to
keep on this subject a silence which she never was known to
observe.
So, though Gerande and Aubert were ignorant of it, all Geneva was
soon talking of their speedy union. But it happened also that,
while the worthy folk were gossiping, a strange chuckle was often
heard, and a voice saying, "Gerande will not wed Aubert."
If the talkers turned round, they found themselves facing a
little old man who was quite a stranger to them.
How old was this singular being? No one could have told. People
conjectured that he must have existed for several centuries, and
that was all. His big flat head rested upon shoulders the width
of which was equal to the height of his body; this was not above
three feet. This personage would have made a good figure to
support a pendulum, for the dial would have naturally been placed
on his face, and the balance-wheel would have oscillated at its
ease in his chest. His nose might readily have been taken for the
style of a sun-dial, for it was narrow and sharp; his teeth, far
apart, resembled the cogs of a wheel, and ground themselves
between his lips; his voice had the metallic sound of a bell, and
you could hear his heart beat like the tick of a clock. This
little man, whose arms moved like the hands on a dial, walked
with jerks, without ever turning round. If any one followed him,
it was found that he walked a league an hour, and that his course
was nearly circular.
This strange being had not long been seen wandering, or rather
circulating, around the town; but it had already been observed
that, every day, at the moment when the sun passed the meridian,
he stopped before the Cathedral of Saint Pierre, and resumed his
course after the twelve strokes of noon had sounded. Excepting at
this precise moment, he seemed to become a part of all the
conversations in which the old watchmaker was talked of; and
people asked each other, in terror, what relation could exist
between him and Master Zacharius. It was remarked, too, that he
never lost sight of the old man and his daughter while they were
taking their promenades.
One day Gerande perceived this monster looking at her with a
hideous smile. She clung to her father with a frightened motion.
"What is the matter, my Gerande?" asked Master Zacharius.
"I do not know," replied the young girl.
"But thou art changed, my child. Art thou going to fall ill in
thy turn? Ah, well," he added, with a sad smile, "then I must
take care of thee, and I will do it tenderly."
"O father, it will be nothing. I am cold, and I imagine that it
is--"
"What, Gerande?"
"The presence of that man, who always follows us," she replied in
a low tone.
Master Zacharius turned towards the little old man.
"Faith, he goes well," said he, with a satisfied air, "for it is
just four o'clock. Fear nothing, my child; it is not a man, it
is a clock!"
Gerande looked at her father in terror. How could Master
Zacharius read the hour on this strange creature's visage?
"By-the-bye," continued the old watchmaker, paying no further
attention to the matter, "I have not seen Aubert for several
days."
"He has not left us, however, father," said Gerande, whose
thoughts turned into a gentler channel.
"What is he doing then?"
"He is working."
"Ah!" cried the old man. "He is at work repairing my watches, is
he not? But he will never succeed; for it is not repair they
need, but a resurrection!"
Gerande remained silent.
"I must know," added the old man, "if they have brought back any
more of those accursed watches upon which the Devil has sent this
epidemic!"
After these words Master Zacharius fell into complete silence,
till he knocked at the door of his house, and for the first time
since his convalescence descended to his shop, while Gerande
sadly repaired to her chamber.
Just as Master Zacharius crossed the threshold of his shop, one
of the many clocks suspended on the wall struck five o'clock.
Usually the bells of these clocks--admirably regulated as they
were--struck simultaneously, and this rejoiced the old man's
heart; but on this day the bells struck one after another, so
that for a quarter of an hour the ear was deafened by the
successive noises. Master Zacharius suffered acutely; he could
not remain still, but went from one clock to the other, and beat
the time to them, like a conductor who no longer has control over
his musicians.
When the last had ceased striking, the door of the shop opened,
and Master Zacharius shuddered from head to foot to see before
him the little old man, who looked fixedly at him and said,--
"Master, may I not speak with you a few moments?"
"Who are you?" asked the watchmaker abruptly.
"A colleague. It is my business to regulate the sun."
"Ah, you regulate the sun?" replied Master Zacharius eagerly,
without wincing. "I can scarcely compliment you upon it. Your sun
goes badly, and in order to make ourselves agree with it, we have
to keep putting our clocks forward so much or back so much."
"And by the cloven foot," cried this weird personage, "you are
right, my master! My sun does not always mark noon at the same
moment as your clocks; but some day it will be known that this is
because of the inequality of the earth's transfer, and a mean
noon will be invented which will regulate this irregularity!"
"Shall I live till then?" asked the old man, with glistening
eyes.
"Without doubt," replied the little old man, laughing. "Can you
believe that you will ever die?"
"Alas! I am very ill now."
"Ah, let us talk of that. By Beelzebub! that will lead to just
what I wish to speak to you about."
Saying this, the strange being leaped upon the old leather chair,
and carried his legs one under the other, after the fashion of
the bones which the painters of funeral hangings cross beneath
death's heads. Then he resumed, in an ironical tone,--
[Illustration: Then he resumed, in an ironical tone]
"Let us see, Master Zacharius, what is going on in this good town
of Geneva? They say that your health is failing, that your
watches have need of a doctor!"
"Ah, do you believe that there is an intimate relation between
their existence and mine?" cried Master Zacharius.
"Why, I imagine that these watches have faults, even vices. If
these wantons do not preserve a regular conduct, it is right that
they should bear the consequences of their irregularity. It seems
to me that they have need of reforming a little!"
"What do you call faults?" asked Master Zacharius, reddening at
the sarcastic tone in which these words were uttered. "Have they
not a right to be proud of their origin?"
"Not too proud, not too proud," replied the little old man. "They
bear a celebrated name, and an illustrious signature is graven on
their cases, it is true, and theirs is the exclusive privilege of
being introduced among the noblest families; but for some time
they have got out of order, and you can do nothing in the matter,
Master Zacharius; and the stupidest apprentice in Geneva could
prove it to you!"
"To me, to me,--Master Zacharius!" cried the old man, with a
flush of outraged pride.
"To you, Master Zacharius,--you, who cannot restore life to your
watches!"
"But it is because I have a fever, and so have they also!"
replied the old man, as a cold sweat broke out upon him.
"Very well, they will die with you, since you cannot impart a
little elasticity to their springs."
"Die! No, for you yourself have said it! I cannot die,--I, the
first watchmaker in the world; I, who, by means of these pieces
and diverse wheels, have been able to regulate the movement with
absolute precision! Have I not subjected time to exact laws, and
can I not dispose of it like a despot? Before a sublime genius
had arranged these wandering hours regularly, in what vast
uncertainty was human destiny plunged? At what certain moment
could the acts of life be connected with each other? But you, man
or devil, whatever you may be, have never considered the
magnificence of my art, which calls every science to its aid! No,
no! I, Master Zacharius, cannot die, for, as I have regulated
time, time would end with me! It would return to the infinite,
whence my genius has rescued it, and it would lose itself
irreparably in the abyss of nothingness! No, I can no more die
than the Creator of this universe, that submitted to His laws! I
have become His equal, and I have partaken of His power! If God
has created eternity, Master Zacharius has created time!"
The old watchmaker now resembled the fallen angel, defiant in the
presence of the Creator. The little old man gazed at him, and
even seemed to breathe into him this impious transport.
"Well said, master," he replied. "Beelzebub had less right than
you to compare himself with God! Your glory must not perish! So
your servant here desires to give you the method of controlling
these rebellious watches."
"What is it? what is it?" cried Master Zacharius.
"You shall know on the day after that on which you have given me
your daughter's hand."
"My Gerande?"
"Herself!"
"My daughter's heart is not free," replied Master Zacharius, who
seemed neither astonished nor shocked at the strange demand.
"Bah! She is not the least beautiful of watches; but she will end
by stopping also--"
"My daughter,--my Gerande! No!"
"Well, return to your watches, Master Zacharius. Adjust and
readjust them. Get ready the marriage of your daughter and your
apprentice. Temper your springs with your best steel. Bless
Aubert and the pretty Gerande. But remember, your watches will
never go, and Gerande will not wed Aubert!"
Thereupon the little old man disappeared, but not so quickly that
Master Zacharius could not hear six o'clock strike in his breast.
CHAPTER IV.
THE CHURCH OF SAINT PIERRE.
Meanwhile Master Zacharius became more feeble in mind and body
every day. An unusual excitement, indeed, impelled him to
continue his work more eagerly than ever, nor could his daughter
entice him from it.
His pride was still more aroused after the crisis to which his
strange visitor had hurried him so treacherously, and he resolved
to overcome, by the force of genius, the malign influence which
weighed upon his work and himself. He first repaired to the
various clocks of the town which were confided to his care. He
made sure, by a scrupulous examination, that the wheels were in
good condition, the pivots firm, the weights exactly balanced.
Every part, even to the bells, was examined with the minute
attention of a physician studying the breast of a patient.
Nothing indicated that these clocks were on the point of being
affected by inactivity.
Gerande and Aubert often accompanied the old man on these visits.
He would no doubt have been pleased to see them eager to go with
him, and certainly he would not have been so much absorbed in his
approaching end, had he thought that his existence was to be
prolonged by that of these cherished ones, and had he understood
that something of the life of a father always remains in his
children.
The old watchmaker, on returning home, resumed his labours with
feverish zeal. Though persuaded that he would not succeed, it yet
seemed to him impossible that this could be so, and he unceasingly
took to pieces the watches which were brought to his shop, and put
them together again.
Aubert tortured his mind in vain to discover the causes of the
evil.
"Master," said he, "this can only come from the wear of the
pivots and gearing."
"Do you want, then, to kill me, little by little?" replied Master
Zacharius passionately. "Are these watches child's work? Was it
lest I should hurt my fingers that I worked the surface of these
copper pieces in the lathe? Have I not forged these pieces of
copper myself, so as to obtain a greater strength? Are not these
springs tempered to a rare perfection? Could anybody have used
finer oils than mine? You must yourself agree that it is
impossible, and you avow, in short, that the devil is in it!"
From morning till night discontented purchasers besieged the
house, and they got access to the old watchmaker himself, who
knew not which of them to listen to.
[Illustration: From morning till night discontented purchasers
besieged the house]
"This watch loses, and I cannot succeed in regulating it," said
one.
"This," said another, "is absolutely obstinate, and stands still,
as did Joshua's sun."
"If it is true," said most of them, "that your health has an
influence on that of your watches, Master Zacharius, get well as
soon as possible."
The old man gazed at these people with haggard eyes, and only
replied by shaking his head, or by a few sad words,--
"Wait till the first fine weather, my friends. The season is
coming which revives existence in wearied bodies. We want the sun
to warm us all!"
"A fine thing, if my watches are to be ill through the winter!"
said one of the most angry. "Do you know, Master Zacharius, that
your name is inscribed in full on their faces? By the Virgin, you
do little honour to your signature!"
It happened at last that the old man, abashed by these
reproaches, took some pieces of gold from his old trunk, and
began to buy back the damaged watches. At news of this, the
customers came in a crowd, and the poor watchmaker's money fast
melted away; but his honesty remained intact. Gerande warmly
praised his delicacy, which was leading him straight towards
ruin; and Aubert soon offered his own savings to his master.
"What will become of my daughter?" said Master Zacharius,
clinging now and then in the shipwreck to his paternal love.
Aubert dared not answer that he was full of hope for the future,
and of deep devotion to Gerande. Master Zacharius would have that
day called him his son-in-law, and thus refuted the sad prophecy,
which still buzzed in his ears,--
"Gerande will not wed Aubert."
By this plan the watchmaker at last succeeded in entirely
despoiling himself. His antique vases passed into the hands of
strangers; he deprived himself of the richly-carved panels which
adorned the walls of his house; some primitive pictures of the
early Flemish painters soon ceased to please his daughter's eyes,
and everything, even the precious tools that his genius had
invented, were sold to indemnify the clamorous customers.
Scholastique alone refused to listen to reason on the subject;
but her efforts failed to prevent the unwelcome visitors from
reaching her master, and from soon departing with some valuable
object. Then her chattering was heard in all the streets of the
neighbourhood, where she had long been known. She eagerly denied
the rumours of sorcery and magic on the part of Master Zacharius,
which gained currency; but as at bottom she was persuaded of
their truth, she said her prayers over and over again to redeem
her pious falsehoods.
It had been noticed that for some time the old watchmaker had
neglected his religious duties. Time was, when he had accompanied
Gerande to church, and had seemed to find in prayer the
intellectual charm which it imparts to thoughtful minds, since it
is the most sublime exercise of the imagination. This voluntary
neglect of holy practices, added to the secret habits of his
life, had in some sort confirmed the accusations levelled against
his labours. So, with the double purpose of drawing her father
back to God, and to the world, Gerande resolved to call religion
to her aid. She thought that it might give some vitality to his
dying soul; but the dogmas of faith and humility had to combat,
in the soul of Master Zacharius, an insurmountable pride, and
came into collision with that vanity of science which connects
everything with itself, without rising to the infinite source
whence first principles flow.
It was under these circumstances that the young girl undertook
her father's conversion; and her influence was so effective that
the old watchmaker promised to attend high mass at the cathedral
on the following Sunday. Gerande was in an ecstasy, as if heaven
had opened to her view. Old Scholastique could not contain her
joy, and at last found irrefutable arguments' against the
gossiping tongues which accused her master of impiety. She spoke
of it to her neighbours, her friends, her enemies, to those whom
she knew not as well as to those whom she knew.
"In faith, we scarcely believe what you tell us, dame
Scholastique," they replied; "Master Zacharius has always acted
in concert with the devil!"
"You haven't counted, then," replied the old servant, "the fine
bells which strike for my master's clocks? How many times they
have struck the hours of prayer and the mass!"
"No doubt," they would reply. "But has he not invented machines
which go all by themselves, and which actually do the work of a
real man?"
"Could a child of the devil," exclaimed dame Scholastique
wrathfully, "have executed the fine iron clock of the château of
Andernatt, which the town of Geneva was not rich enough to buy? A
pious motto appeared at each hour, and a Christian who obeyed
them, would have gone straight to Paradise! Is that the work of
the devil?"
This masterpiece, made twenty years before, had carried Master
Zacharius's fame to its acme; but even then there had been
accusations of sorcery against him. But at least the old man's
visit to the Cathedral ought to reduce malicious tongues to
silence.
Master Zacharius, having doubtless forgotten the promise made to
his daughter, had returned to his shop. After being convinced of
his powerlessness to give life to his watches, he resolved to try
if he could not make some new ones. He abandoned all those
useless works, and devoted himself to the completion of the
crystal watch, which he intended to be his masterpiece; but in
vain did he use his most perfect tools, and employ rubies and
diamonds for resisting friction. The watch fell from his hands
the first time that he attempted to wind it up!
The old man concealed this circumstance from every one, even from
his daughter; but from that time his health rapidly declined.
There were only the last oscillations of a pendulum, which goes
slower when nothing restores its original force. It seemed as if
the laws of gravity, acting directly upon him, were dragging him
irresistibly down to the grave.
The Sunday so ardently anticipated by Gerande at last arrived.
The weather was fine, and the temperature inspiriting. The people
of Geneva were passing quietly through the streets, gaily
chatting about the return of spring. Gerande, tenderly taking the
old man's arm, directed her steps towards the cathedral, while
Scholastique followed behind with the prayer-books. People looked
curiously at them as they passed. The old watchmaker permitted
himself to be led like a child, or rather like a blind man. The
faithful of Saint Pierre were almost frightened when they saw him
cross the threshold, and shrank back at his approach.
The chants of high mass were already resounding through the
church. Gerande went to her accustomed bench, and kneeled with
profound and simple reverence. Master Zacharius remained standing
upright beside her.
The ceremonies continued with the majestic solemnity of that
faithful age, but the old man had no faith. He did not implore
the pity of Heaven with cries of anguish of the "Kyrie;" he did
not, with the "Gloria in Excelsis," sing the splendours of the
heavenly heights; the reading of the Testament did not draw him
from his materialistic reverie, and he forgot to join in the
homage of the "Credo." This proud old man remained motionless, as
insensible and silent as a stone statue; and even at the solemn
moment when the bell announced the miracle of transubstantiation,
he did not bow his head, but gazed directly at the sacred host
which the priest raised above the heads of the faithful. Gerande
looked at her father, and a flood of tears moistened her missal.
At this moment the clock of Saint Pierre struck half-past eleven.
Master Zacharius turned quickly towards this ancient clock which
still spoke. It seemed to him as if its face was gazing steadily
at him; the figures of the hours shone as if they had been
engraved in lines of fire, and the hands shot forth electric
sparks from their sharp points.
[Illustration: This proud old man remained motionless]
The mass ended. It was customary for the "Angelus" to be said at
noon, and the priests, before leaving the altar, waited for the
clock to strike the hour of twelve. In a few moments this prayer
would ascend to the feet of the Virgin.
But suddenly a harsh noise was heard. Master Zacharius uttered a
piercing cry.
The large hand of the clock, having reached twelve, had abruptly
stopped, and the clock did not strike the hour.
Gerande hastened to her father's aid. He had fallen down
motionless, and they carried him outside the church.
"It is the death-blow!" murmured Gerande, sobbing.
When he had been borne home, Master Zacharius lay upon his bed
utterly crushed. Life seemed only to still exist on the surface
of his body, like the last whiffs of smoke about a lamp just
extinguished. When he came to his senses, Aubert and Gerande were
leaning over him. In these last moments the future took in his
eyes the shape of the present. He saw his daughter alone, without
a protector.
"My son," said he to Aubert, "I give my daughter to thee."
So saying, he stretched out his hands towards his two children,
who were thus united at his death-bed.
But soon Master Zacharius lifted himself up in a paroxysm of
rage. The words of the little old man recurred to his mind.
"I do not wish to die!" he cried; "I cannot die! I, Master
Zacharius, ought not to die! My books--my accounts!--"
With these words he sprang from his bed towards a book in which
the names of his customers and the articles which had been sold
to them were inscribed. He seized it and rapidly turned over its
leaves, and his emaciated finger fixed itself on one of the
pages.
"There!" he cried, "there! this old iron clock, sold to
Pittonaccio! It is the only one that has not been returned to me!
It still exists--it goes--it lives! Ah, I wish for it--I must
find it! I will take such care of it that death will no longer
seek me!"
And he fainted away.
Aubert and Gerande knelt by the old man's bed-side and prayed
together.
CHAPTER V.
THE HOUR OF DEATH.
Several days passed, and Master Zacharius, though almost dead,
rose from his bed and returned to active life under a supernatural
excitement. He lived by pride. But Gerande did not deceive
herself; her father's body and soul were for ever lost.
The old man got together his last remaining resources, without
thought of those who were dependent upon him. He betrayed an
incredible energy, walking, ferreting about, and mumbling
strange, incomprehensible words.
One morning Gerande went down to his shop. Master Zacharius was
not there. She waited for him all day. Master Zacharius did not
return.
Gerande wept bitterly, but her father did not reappear.
Aubert searched everywhere through the town, and soon came to the
sad conviction that the old man had left it.
"Let us find my father!" cried Gerande, when the young apprentice
told her this sad news.
"Where can he be?" Aubert asked himself.
An inspiration suddenly came to his mind. He remembered the last
words which Master Zacharius had spoken. The old man only lived
now in the old iron clock that had not been returned! Master
Zacharius must have gone in search of it.
Aubert spoke of this to Gerande.
"Let us look at my father's book," she replied.
They descended to the shop. The book was open on the bench. All
the watches or clocks made by the old man, and which had been
returned to him because they were out of order, were stricken out
excepting one:--
"Sold to M. Pittonaccio, an iron clock, with bell and moving
figures; sent to his château at Andernatt."
It was this "moral" clock of which Scholastique had spoken with
so much enthusiasm.
"My father is there!" cried Gerande.
"Let us hasten thither," replied Aubert. "We may still save him!"
"Not for this life," murmured Gerande, "but at least for the
other."
"By the mercy of God, Gerande! The château of Andernatt stands in
the gorge of the 'Dents-du-Midi' twenty hours from Geneva. Let us
go!"
That very evening Aubert and Gerande, followed by the old
servant, set out on foot by the road which skirts Lake Leman.
They accomplished five leagues during the night, stopping neither
at Bessinge nor at Ermance, where rises the famous château of the
Mayors. They with difficulty forded the torrent of the Dranse,
and everywhere they went they inquired for Master Zacharius, and
were soon convinced that they were on his track.
The next morning, at daybreak, having passed Thonon, they reached
Evian, whence the Swiss territory may be seen extended over
twelve leagues. But the two betrothed did not even perceive the
enchanting prospect. They went straight forward, urged on by a
supernatural force. Aubert, leaning on a knotty stick, offered
his arm alternately to Gerande and to Scholastique, and he made
the greatest efforts to sustain his companions. All three talked
of their sorrow, of their hopes, and thus passed along the
beautiful road by the water-side, and across the narrow plateau
which unites the borders of the lake with the heights of the
Chalais. They soon reached Bouveret, where the Rhone enters the
Lake of Geneva.
On leaving this town they diverged from the lake, and their
weariness increased amid these mountain districts. Vionnaz,
Chesset, Collombay, half lost villages, were soon left behind.
Meanwhile their knees shook, their feet were lacerated by the
sharp points which covered the ground like a brushwood of
granite;--but no trace of Master Zacharius!
He must be found, however, and the two young people did not seek
repose either in the isolated hamlets or at the château of
Monthay, which, with its dependencies, formed the appanage of
Margaret of Savoy. At last, late in the day, and half dead with
fatigue, they reached the hermitage of Notre-Dame-du-Sex, which
is situated at the base of the Dents-du-Midi, six hundred feet
above the Rhone.
The hermit received the three wanderers as night was falling.
They could not have gone another step, and here they must needs
rest.
The hermit could give them no news of Master Zacharius. They
could scarcely hope to find him still living amid these sad
solitudes. The night was dark, the wind howled amid the
mountains, and the avalanches roared down from the summits of the
broken crags.
Aubert and Gerande, crouching before the hermit's hearth, told
him their melancholy tale. Their mantles, covered with snow, were
drying in a corner; and without, the hermit's dog barked
lugubriously, and mingled his voice with that of the tempest.
"Pride," said the hermit to his guests, "has destroyed an angel
created for good. It is the stumbling-block against which the
destinies of man strike. You cannot reason with pride, the
principal of all the vices, since, by its very nature, the proud
man refuses to listen to it. It only remains, then, to pray for
your father!"
All four knelt down, when the barking of the dog redoubled, and
some one knocked at the door of the hermitage.
"Open, in the devil's name!"
The door yielded under the blows, and a dishevelled, haggard,
ill-clothed man appeared.
"My father!" cried Gerande.
It was Master Zacharius.
"Where am I?" said he. "In eternity! Time is ended--the hours no
longer strike--the hands have stopped!"
"Father!" returned Gerande, with so piteous an emotion that the
old man seemed to return to the world of the living.
"Thou here, Gerande?" he cried; "and thou, Aubert? Ah, my dear
betrothed ones, you are going to be married in our old church!"
"Father," said Gerande, seizing him by the arm, "come home to
Geneva,--come with us!"
The old man tore away from his daughter's embrace and hurried
towards the door, on the threshold of which the snow was falling
in large flakes.
"Do not abandon your children!" cried Aubert.
"Why return," replied the old man sadly, "to those places which
my life has already quitted, and where a part of myself is for
ever buried?"
"Your soul is not dead," said the hermit solemnly.
"My soul? O no,--its wheels are good! I perceive it beating
regularly--"
"Your soul is immaterial,--your soul is immortal!" replied the
hermit sternly.
"Yes--like my glory! But it is shut up in the château of
Andernatt, and I wish to see it again!"
The hermit crossed himself; Scholastique became almost inanimate.
Aubert held Gerande in his arms.
"The château of Andernatt is inhabited by one who is lost," said
the hermit, "one who does not salute the cross of my hermitage."
"My father, go not thither!"
"I want my soul! My soul is mine--"
"Hold him! Hold my father!" cried Gerande.
But the old man had leaped across the threshold, and plunged into
the night, crying, "Mine, mine, my soul!"
Gerande, Aubert, and Scholastique hastened after him. They went
by difficult paths, across which Master Zacharius sped like a
tempest, urged by an irresistible force. The snow raged around
them, and mingled its white flakes with the froth of the swollen
torrents.
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599
"
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601
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625
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626
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628
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630
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631
632
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633
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634
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636
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638
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640
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641
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643
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644
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645
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646
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648
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650
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651
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652
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654
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656
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[
:
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761
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972
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973
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975
.
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.
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987
988
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-
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989
990
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996
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997
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.
998
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999
.
1000