“Do you want, then, to kill me, little by little?” replied Master Zacharius passionately. “Are these watches child’s work? Was it lest I should hurt my fingers that I worked the surface of these copper pieces in the lathe? Have I not forged these pieces of copper myself, so as to obtain a greater strength? Are not these springs tempered to a rare perfection? Could anybody have used finer oils than mine? You must yourself agree that it is impossible, and you avow, in short, that the devil is in it!” From morning till night discontented purchasers besieged the house, and they got access to the old watchmaker himself, who knew not which of them to listen to. [Illustration: From morning till night discontented purchasers besieged the house] “This watch loses, and I cannot succeed in regulating it,” said one. “This,” said another, “is absolutely obstinate, and stands still, as did Joshua’s sun.” “If it is true,” said most of them, “that your health has an influence on that of your watches, Master Zacharius, get well as soon as possible.” The old man gazed at these people with haggard eyes, and only replied by shaking his head, or by a few sad words,— “Wait till the first fine weather, my friends. The season is coming which revives existence in wearied bodies. We want the sun to warm us all!” “A fine thing, if my watches are to be ill through the winter!” said one of the most angry. “Do you know, Master Zacharius, that your name is inscribed in full on their faces? By the Virgin, you do little honour to your signature!” It happened at last that the old man, abashed by these reproaches, took some pieces of gold from his old trunk, and began to buy back the damaged watches. At news of this, the customers came in a crowd, and the poor watchmaker’s money fast melted away; but his honesty remained intact. Gerande warmly praised his delicacy, which was leading him straight towards ruin; and Aubert soon offered his own savings to his master. “What will become of my daughter?” said Master Zacharius, clinging now and then in the shipwreck to his paternal love. 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. His antique vases passed into the hands of strangers; he deprived himself of the richly-carved panels which adorned the walls of his house; some primitive pictures of the early Flemish painters soon ceased to please his daughter’s eyes, and everything, even the precious tools that his genius had invented, were sold to indemnify the clamorous customers.