and who found it impossible to obtain one-tenth
of the sum now required for his release. All they could do, therefore,
was to take charge of the wonderful model, and carry it to the
Court-house, where it would have to remain until the decision of the
Council should be proclaimed. The second letter, which was from Carl,
was still more appalling, for he told Dumiger how essential it was
for him to make any sacrifice in order to put the whole machinery
in order, so that his work might appear to the judges in the most
favorable point of view. He undertook, however, to engage the best
mechanist in Dantzic, in the event of Dumiger not being able to obtain
his release before the appointed day.

What was to be done? Dumiger felt himself driven almost to frenzy. He
thought of Marguerite, of his clock, of his friends; he then began to
think that be had acted very foolishly in refusing the offer of the
Grand Master, who, he felt assured, although the lieutenant would
not admit it to him, was the cause of all his misery. The more he
reflected on the past, the more desperate he became; he rolled on the
ground in agony; the whole day passed in efforts to reach the window,
whence at least he might perceive the situation of his house, or to
shake the bars of the strongly-ironed door. Toward evening a soldier
brought him some refreshment, but preserved an obstinate silence.
Dumiger allowed the refreshment to remain untasted on the ground; he
could not touch it. The evening grew on apace, the merry chimes from
the Dom of the city came across the water; it struck him that they
had never chimed so musically before, or with so much meaning. Another
long, long night of agony was to be passed, and where and how was
suspense to end?

Time swept on, but this night they brought him no lamp, so that he had
no means of measuring its progress; he could only judge how heavily
the hours rolled by the tramp of the guards as they marched over the
drawbridge to the several reliefs. At ten o'clock he heard the bugles
sounding the retreat, and then when he pictured to himself his gentle
young bride, so sweet, so lovely--when he remembered how greatly he
had neglected her for his ambition--he loathed himself for what he
used to consider laudable, but now felt to have been mere selfishness.

It was still very early, for the gray cold streaks of morning had
not pierced the prison-bars, when Dumiger was roused from his uneasy
slumber by the rattling of the