ng-winded sermons, which he would deliver
himself of uselessly if he attempted to shake his (Wacht's) resolution
with respect to Nanni and Jonathan. Accident came to his rescue; for
just as the canon, the young lawyer, and the varnisher were standing
together, and the first-named was beginning to approach the most
intimate relations of life in the most elegantly turned phrases, fat
Hans shouted out "Wood here!" and big Peter on the other side pushed
the wood across to him so roughly that it caught the canon a violent
blow on the shoulder and sent him reeling against Monsieur Pickard; he
in his turn stumbled against the young advocate, and in a trice the
whole three had disappeared. For just behind them was a huge piled-up
heap of chips and saw-dust and so on. The unfortunates were buried
under this heap, so that all that could be seen of them were four black
legs and two buff-coloured ones; the latter were the gala stockings of
Herr Pickard Leberfink, decorator and gilder. It couldn't possibly be
helped; the journeymen and apprentices burst out into a ringing peal of
laughter, notwithstanding that Master Wacht bade them be still and look
grave.

Of them all the canon cut the worst figure, since the saw-dust had got
into the folds of his robe and even into the elegant curls which
adorned his head. He fled as if upon the wings of the wind, covered
with shame, and the young advocate hard after him. Monsieur Pickard
Leberfink was the only one who preserved his good humour and took the
thing in merry part, notwithstanding that it might be regarded as
certain he would never be able to wear the buff-coloured stockings
again, since the saw-dust had proved especially injurious to them and
had quite destroyed the "clock." Thus the storm which was to have been
adventured against Wacht was baffled by a ridiculous incident. But the
Master did not dream what terrible thing was to happen to him before
the day was over.

Master Wacht had finished dinner and was just going downstairs in order
to betake himself to his workyard, when he heard a loud, rough voice
shouting in front of the house, "Hi, there! This is where that knavish
old rascal, Carpenter Wacht, lives, isn't it?" A voice in the street
made answer, "There is no knavish old rascal living here; this is the
house of our respected fellow-citizen Herr Johannes Wacht, the
carpenter." In the same moment the street-door was forced open with a
violent bang, and a big strong fellow