the delicate pieces that he had been
adjusting with glasses, and stop the active wheel of his lathe;
then he would raise a trap-door constructed in the floor of his
workshop, and, stooping down, used to inhale for hours together
the thick vapours of the Rhone, as it dashed along under his
eyes.

[Illustration: he would raise the trap door constructed in the
floor of his workshop.]

One winter's night the old servant Scholastique served the
supper, which, according to old custom, she and the young
mechanic shared with their master. Master Zacharius did not eat,
though the food carefully prepared for him was offered him in a
handsome blue and white dish. He scarcely answered the sweet
words of Gerande, who evidently noticed her father's silence, and
even the clatter of Scholastique herself no more struck his ear
than the roar of the river, to which he paid no attention.

After the silent meal, the old clockmaker left the table without
embracing his daughter, or saying his usual "Good-night" to all.
He left by the narrow door leading to his den, and the staircase
groaned under his heavy footsteps as he went down.

Gerande, Aubert, and Scholastique sat for some minutes without
speaking. On this evening the weather was dull; the clouds
dragged heavily on the Alps, and threatened rain; the severe
climate of Switzerland made one feel sad, while the south wind
swept round the house, and whistled ominously.

"My dear young lady," said Scholastique, at last, "do you know
that our master has been out of sorts for several days? Holy
Virgin! I know he has had no appetite, because his words stick in
his inside, and it would take a very clever devil to drag even
one out of him."

"My father has some secret cause of trouble, that I cannot even
guess," replied Gerande, as a sad anxiety spread over her face.

"Mademoiselle, don't let such sadness fill your heart. You know
the strange habits of Master Zacharius. Who can read his secret
thoughts in his face? No doubt some fatigue has overcome him, but
to-morrow he will have forgotten it, and be very sorry to have
given his daughter pain."

It was Aubert who spoke thus, looking into Gerande's lovely eyes.
Aubert was the first apprentice whom Master Zacharius had ever
admitted to the intimacy of his labours, for he appreciated his
intelligence, discretion, and goodness of heart; and this young
man had attached himself to Gerande with the earnest devotion
natural to a noble natu