Even uncle Petrowitsch condescended to come, and he not only brought Bueble with him--for that was a matter of course--but Ibrahim, Petrowitsch's companion at cards--of whom people said that, during his fifty years' absence from home, he had become a Turk. The two old men said little; Ibrahim sat still and smoked his long Turkish pipe, and moved his eyebrows up and down; Petrowitsch fidgeted round him, just as Bueble fidgeted round Petrowitsch. For Ibrahim was the only man who had a certain influence over Petrowitsch, which he only retained because he rarely exercised it. He would listen to no man who applied to him to obtain any favour from Petrowitsch. They played cards together for whole evenings, each paying his losses on the spot; and the restless, lively disposition of Ibrahim made Petrowitsch more polite and complaisant; and here, in the old family house, Petrowitsch seemed, in some degree, inclined to assist his nephew in doing the honours. While the clock was playing a grand piece, Petrowitsch stood beside the work bench, examining everything that lay there or hung on the wall. At last he took down the well known file, with its worn handle. When the piece was finished, he said to Lenz--"This is your father's file, is it not?" "Yes; it belonged to my deceased father." "I will buy it from you." "You are not in earnest, surely, uncle: it is not likely I should sell it." "To me you certainly might." "Not even to you, though I hope you will not be offended." "Very well; then make me a present of it. I will give you something in return some day." "Uncle, I scarcely can tell--I really don't know what to say; but my feeling is, that I cannot bear to part with the file." "Very good!--'Stay there,'" said he to the tool, hanging it up again in its place; and soon he was walking down to the valley with Ibrahim. People came from miles distant, and from quite the other side of the valley, to admire the clock; and Franzl was particularly pleased when the first man out of her village, Kunslingen, the balance maker, came and said openly--"Such an instrument has not been produced in our country for a hundred years. It is a pity that it must be dumb while it is travelling; and that it cannot go on playing all the way from here to Odessa, saying--'I come from the Black Forest--clever men must live there to complete such mechanism.'"