Master Zacharius has always acted
in concert with the devil!"

"You haven't counted, then," replied the old servant, "the fine
bells which strike for my master's clocks? How many times they
have struck the hours of prayer and the mass!"

"No doubt," they would reply. "But has he not invented machines
which go all by themselves, and which actually do the work of a
real man?"

"Could a child of the devil," exclaimed dame Scholastique
wrathfully, "have executed the fine iron clock of the chateau of
Andernatt, which the town of Geneva was not rich enough to buy? A
pious motto appeared at each hour, and a Christian who obeyed
them, would have gone straight to Paradise! Is that the work of
the devil?"

This masterpiece, made twenty years before, had carried Master
Zacharius's fame to its acme; but even then there had been
accusations of sorcery against him. But at least the old man's
visit to the Cathedral ought to reduce malicious tongues to
silence.

Master Zacharius, having doubtless forgotten the promise made to
his daughter, had returned to his shop. After being convinced of
his powerlessness to give life to his watches, he resolved to try
if he could not make some new ones. He abandoned all those
useless works, and devoted himself to the completion of the
crystal watch, which he intended to be his masterpiece; but in
vain did he use his most perfect tools, and employ rubies and
diamonds for resisting friction. The watch fell from his hands
the first time that he attempted to wind it up!

The old man concealed this circumstance from every one, even from
his daughter; but from that time his health rapidly declined.
There were only the last oscillations of a pendulum, which goes
slower when nothing restores its original force. It seemed as if
the laws of gravity, acting directly upon him, were dragging him
irresistibly down to the grave.

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. People looked
curiously at them as they passed. The old watchmaker permitted
himself to be led like a child, or rather like a blind man. The
faithful of Saint Pierre were almost frightened when they saw him
cross t