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Updated: June 1, 2025
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.
It was with her as with the musical snuff-boxes which they made at Geneva; once wound up, you must break them before you will prevent their playing all their airs through. Finding Gerande absorbed in a melancholy silence, Scholastique left her old wooden chair, fixed a taper on the end of a candlestick, lit it, and placed it near a small waxen Virgin, sheltered in her niche of stone.
"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.
He has put them together yet more carefully; but, despite his skill, they will not go." "The devil's in it!" cried Scholastique. "Why say you so?" asked Gerande. "It seems very natural to me. Nothing lasts for ever in this world. The infinite cannot be fashioned by the hands of men." "It is none the less true," returned Aubert, "that there is in this something very mysterious and extraordinary.
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.
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.
It was the family custom to kneel before this protecting Madonna of the domestic hearth, and to beg her kindly watchfulness during the coming night; but on this evening Gerande remained silent in her seat. "Well, well, dear demoiselle," said the astonished Scholastique, "supper is over, and it is time to go to bed. Why do you tire your eyes by sitting up late? Ah, Holy Virgin!
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.
"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.
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.
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