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Updated: May 15, 2025
"The clock-lock it is! There, my son! There you have one more of what the good people of this town call, 'Daddy Voigt's follies. With all my heart! Let those laugh who win. No thief can steal my keys. No burglar can pick my lock.
I leave the dial-hand at eight; I put back the regulator to I.; I close the door; and closed the door remains, past all opening by anybody, till to-morrow morning at eight." Obenreizer's quickness instantly saw the means by which he might make the clock-lock betray its master's confidence, and place its master's papers at his disposal.
Obenreizer turned to Maitre Voigt. "Do you remember telling me that you once had an English client named Vendale?" he asked. "Well," answered the notary. "And what of that?" "Maitre Voigt, your clock-lock has betrayed you." "What do you mean?" "I have read the letters and certificates in your client's box. I have taken copies of them. I have got the copies here.
Do you give it up?" cried Maitre Voigt, in high triumph. "Listen, my good fellow, and tell me if you hear nothing inside?" Obenreizer listened for a moment, and started back from the door. "I know!" he exclaimed. "I heard of this when I was apprenticed here at the watchmaker's. Perrin Brothers have finished their famous clock-lock at last and you have got it?" "Bravo!" said Maitre Voigt.
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