etrovitsch was stirred to special activity and
officiousness by Ibrahim's imperturbable tranquillity, and now seemed
desirous of doing the honors of his old homestead. He stood by the
work-bench during the playing of a long piece, and amused himself with
observing the tools which lay upon it, as well as those hanging upon
the wall. At last he took down the familiar file with the well-worn
handle. "Was not this his file?" he said to Lenz, when the piece was
ended.

"Yes, my poor father's."

"I will buy it of you."

"You are not in earnest, uncle. You know I could not sell it."

"Not to me?"

"Not even to you,--begging your pardon."

"Give it to me, then, and let me give you something in return."

"I hardly know how to answer you, uncle. Really, I cannot let it go out
of the house."

"Stay there then," he said to the unconscious tool, as he returned it
to its place; and shortly after he and Ibrahim went down the hill.

People came from a great distance, some from the next valley, to hear
and admire the clock. Franzl was especially delighted with the praise
bestowed upon it by the weight-maker, one of the chief men of her
village. "Such a piece of workmanship has not left our part of the
country for a hundred years," he declared. "What a pity it has got to
be silent through the journey, and cannot play from here to Odessa, to
tell every one it comes from the Black Forest, where science has been
brought to such perfection!" Franzl's face glowed with pleasure. It
takes the Knuslingers to talk like that. She told of the patience and
zeal with which Lenz had labored on this work; how he had often got up
in the night to carry out some idea that had come into his mind. There
were secrets in that clock that no one could fathom. She, of course,
was initiated into its mysteries. No maiden's heart ever beat more
tumultuously at a first declaration of love than Franzl's when the
first man of her village said, "And the house, Franzl, whence proceeds
a work so delicate and exact, the house must have been well ordered
too; you have contributed your share, Franzl."

"With all deference to others, I must say there is no one quite equal
to us Knuslingers. This is the only man who has said just the right
thing. The others stood there like cows before a new barn door. Moo!
moo! Thank Heaven, I come from Knuslingen!"--so spoke Franzl's whole
manner. You could read it in her hand, which she laid upon her beating
heart, and in the