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Updated: June 1, 2025
"My father!" murmured Gerande, recovering consciousness. "If you knew what I have suffered, far away from this principle of my existence!" resumed the old man. "Perhaps no one looked after this timepiece. Perhaps its springs were left to wear out, its wheels to get clogged. But now, in my own hands, I can nourish this health so dear, for I must not die, I, the great watchmaker of Geneva.
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.
He returned to the hermitage of Notre-Dame-du-Sex, and talked so despairingly to the holy recluse, that the latter consented to return with him to the château of Andernatt. If, during these hours of anguish, Gerande had not wept, it was because her tears were exhausted. Master Zacharius had not left the hall. He ran every moment to listen to the regular beating of the old clock.
He left by the narrow door leading to his den, and the staircase groaned under his heavy footsteps as he went down. Gerande, Aubert, and Scholastique sat for some minutes without speaking.
Look, my daughter, how these hands advance with certain step. See, five o'clock is about to strike. Listen well, and look at the maxim which is about to be revealed." Aubert and Gerande looked at each other stupefied. These were no longer the pious sayings of the Catholic watchmaker. The breath of Satan must have passed over it. But Zacharius paid no attention to this, and resumed
"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. 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.
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.
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.
It's much better to sleep, and to get a little comfort from happy dreams! In these detestable times in which we live, who can promise herself a fortunate day?" "Ought we not to send for a doctor for my father?" asked Gerande. "A doctor!" cried the old domestic. "Has Master Zacharius ever listened to their fancies and pompous sayings?
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