the other,
presented a delightfully confused _coup-d'oeil_. The small area
of the island had compelled some of the buildings to be perched,
as it were, on the piles, which were entangled in the rough
currents of the river. The huge beams, blackened by time, and
worn by the water, seemed like the claws of an enormous crab, and
presented a fantastic appearance. The little yellow streams,
which were like cobwebs stretched amid this ancient foundation,
quivered in the darkness, as if they had been the leaves of some
old oak forest, while the river engulfed in this forest of piles,
foamed and roared most mournfully.

One of the houses of the island was striking for its curiously
aged appearance. It was the dwelling of the old clockmaker,
Master Zacharius, whose household consisted of his daughter
Gerande, Aubert Thun, his apprentice, and his old servant
Scholastique.

There was no man in Geneva to compare in interest with this
Zacharius. His age was past finding out. Not the oldest
inhabitant of the town could tell for how long his thin, pointed
head had shaken above his shoulders, nor the day when, for the
first time, he had-walked through the streets, with his long
white locks floating in the wind. The man did not live; he
vibrated like the pendulum of his clocks. His spare and
cadaverous figure was always clothed in dark colours. Like the
pictures of Leonardo di Vinci, he was sketched in black.

Gerande had the pleasantest room in the whole house, whence,
through a narrow window, she had the inspiriting view of the
snowy peaks of Jura; but the bedroom and workshop of the old man
were a kind of cavern close on to the water, the floor of which
rested on the piles.

From time immemorial Master Zacharius had never come out except
at meal times, and when he went to regulate the different clocks
of the town. He passed the rest of his time at his bench, which
was covered with numerous clockwork instruments, most of which he
had invented himself. For he was a clever man; his works were
valued in all France and Germany. The best workers in Geneva
readily recognized his superiority, and showed that he was an
honour to the town, by saying, "To him belongs the glory of
having invented the escapement." In fact, the birth of true
clock-work dates from the invention which the talents of
Zacharius had discovered not many years before.

After he had worked hard for a long time, Zacharius would slowly
put his tools away, cover up