eard of this when I was apprenticed here at
the watchmaker's. Perrin Brothers have finished their famous clock-lock
at last--and you have got it?"

"Bravo!" said Maitre Voigt. "The clock-lock it is! There, my son! There
you have one more of what the good people of this town call, 'Daddy
Voigt's follies.' With all my heart! Let those laugh who win. No thief
can steal _my_ keys. No burglar can pick _my_ lock. No power on earth,
short of a battering-ram or a barrel of gunpowder, can move that door,
till my little sentinel inside--my worthy friend who goes 'Tick, Tick,'
as I tell him--says, 'Open!' The big door obeys the little Tick, Tick,
and the little Tick, Tick, obeys _me_. That!" cried Daddy Voigt,
snapping his fingers, "for all the thieves in Christendom!"

"May I see it in action?" asked Obenreizer. "Pardon my curiosity, dear
sir! You know that I was once a tolerable worker in the clock trade."

"Certainly you shall see it in action," said Maitre Voigt. "What is the
time now? One minute to eight. Watch, and in one minute you will see
the door open of itself."

In one minute, smoothly and slowly and silently, as if invisible hands
had set it free, the heavy door opened inward, and disclosed a dark
chamber beyond. On three sides, shelves filled the walls, from floor to
ceiling. Arranged on the shelves, were rows upon rows of boxes made in
the pretty inlaid woodwork of Switzerland, and bearing inscribed on their
fronts (for the most part in fanciful coloured letters) the names of the
notary's clients.

Maitre Voigt lighted a taper, and led the way into the room.

"You shall see the clock," he said proudly. "I possess the greatest
curiosity in Europe. It is only a privileged few whose eyes can look at
it. I give the privilege to your good father's son--you shall be one of
the favoured few who enter the room with me. See! here it is, on the
right-hand wall at the side of the door."

"An ordinary clock," exclaimed Obenreizer. "No! Not an ordinary clock.
It has only one hand."

"Aha!" said Maitre Voigt. "Not an ordinary clock, my friend. No, no.
That one hand goes round the dial. As I put it, so it regulates the hour
at which the door shall open. See! The hand points to eight. At eight
the door opened, as you saw for yourself."

"Does it open more than once in the four-and-twenty hours?" asked
Obenreizer.

"More than once?" repeated the notary, with great scorn. "You don't know
my