“There!” he cried, “there! this old iron clock, sold to Pittonaccio! It is the only one that has not been returned to me! It still exists—it goes—it lives! Ah, I wish for it—I must find it! I will take such care of it that death will no longer seek me!” And he fainted away. Aubert and Gerande knelt by the old man’s bed-side and prayed together. CHAPTER V. THE HOUR OF DEATH. Several days passed, and Master Zacharius, though almost dead, rose from his bed and returned to active life under a supernatural excitement. He lived by pride. But Gerande did not deceive herself; her father’s body and soul were for ever lost. The old man got together his last remaining resources, without thought of those who were dependent upon him. He betrayed an incredible energy, walking, ferreting about, and mumbling strange, incomprehensible words. One morning Gerande went down to his shop. Master Zacharius was not there. She waited for him all day. Master Zacharius did not return. Gerande wept bitterly, but her father did not reappear. Aubert searched everywhere through the town, and soon came to the sad conviction that the old man had left it. “Let us find my father!” cried Gerande, when the young apprentice told her this sad news. “Where can he be?” Aubert asked himself. 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. All the watches or clocks made by the old man, and which had been returned to him because they were out of order, were stricken out excepting one:— “Sold to M. Pittonaccio, an iron clock, with bell and moving figures; sent to his château at Andernatt.” It was this “moral” clock of which Scholastique had spoken with so much enthusiasm. “My father is there!” cried Gerande. “Let us hasten thither,” replied Aubert. “We may still save him!” “Not for this life,” murmured Gerande, “but at least for the other.” “By the mercy of God, Gerande! The château of Andernatt stands in the gorge of the ‘Dents-du-Midi’ twenty hours from Geneva. Let us go!” That very evening Aubert and Gerande, followed by the old servant, set out on foot by the road which skirts Lake Leman. They accomplished five leagues during the night, stopping neither at Bessinge nor at Ermance, where rises the famous château of the Mayors. They with difficulty forded the torrent of the Dranse, and everywhere they went they inquired for Master Zacharius, and were soon convinced that they were on his track.