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Master Zacharius, intoxicated with joy, went forward to take possession of the clock, when a frightful roar of laughter resounded behind him. He turned, and by the light of a smoky lamp recognized the little old man of Geneva. "You here?" cried he. Gerande was afraid. She drew closer to Aubert. "Good-day, Master Zacharius," said the monster. "Who are you?" "Signor Pittonaccio, at your service!
These rumours reached Gerande, and she often trembled for her father, when she saw malicious glances directed towards him. Yet on the morning after this night of anguish, Master Zacharius seemed to resume work with some confidence. The morning sun inspired him with some courage. Aubert hastened to join him in the shop, and received an affable "Good-day." "I am better," said the old man.
Gerande, her feet riveted to the floor, stood breathless and motionless. She wished to approach her father, but could not. Giddy hallucinations took possession of her. Suddenly she heard, in the shade, a voice murmur in her ears, "Gerande, dear Gerande! grief still keeps you awake. Go in again, I beg of you; the night is cold." "Aubert!" whispered the young girl. "You!"
"I know not," returned the apprentice, warming the cold hands of the girl with his own. "But go back to your room, my poor Gerande, and with sleep recover hope!" Gerande slowly returned to her chamber, and remained there till daylight, without sleep closing her eyelids. Meanwhile, Master Zacharius, always mute and motionless, gazed at the river as it rolled turbulently at his feet.
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. 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.
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.
"For several days, Gerande," said the young apprentice, "something absolutely incomprehensible has been going on. All the watches which your father has made and sold for some years have suddenly stopped. Very many of them have been brought back to him. He has carefully taken them to pieces; the springs were in good condition, and the wheels well set.
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.
The old watchmaker was upright in the middle of the room, which resounded with the roaring of the river. His bristling hair gave him a sinister aspect. He was talking and gesticulating, without seeing or hearing anything. Gerande stood still on the threshold. "It is death!" said Master Zacharius, in a hollow voice; "it is death!
They will be useless prayers," muttered the old servant, "but Heaven will pardon them for their good intent." The taper was relighted. Scholastique, Gerande, and Aubert knelt down together upon the tiles of the room.
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