The Eternal Adam and other stories (12 page)

When the last had ceased striking, the door
of the shop opened, and Master Zacharius shuddered from head to foot to see
before him the little old man, who looked fixedly at him and said, —

‘Master, may I not speak with you a few
moments?’

‘Who are you?’ asked the watchmaker abruptly.

‘A colleague. It is my business to regulate
the sun.’

‘Ah, you regulate the sun?’ replied Master
Zacharius eagerly, without wincing. ‘I can scarcely compliment you upon it.
Your sun goes badly, and in order to make ourselves agree with it, we have to
keep putting our clocks forward so much or back so much.’

‘And by the cloven foot,’ cried this weird
personage, ‘you are right, my master! My sun does not always mark noon at the same
moment as your clocks: but some day it will be known that this is because of
the inequality of the earth’s transfer, and a mean noon will be invented which
will regulate this irregularity!’

‘Shall I live till then?’ asked the old
man, with glistening eyes.

‘Without doubt,’ replied the little old
man, laughing. ‘Can you believe that you will ever die?’

‘Alas! I am very ill now.’

‘Ah, let us talk of that. By Beelzebub!
that will lead to just what I wish to speak to you about’

Saying this, the strange being leaped upon
the old leather chair, and carried his legs one under the other, after the
fashion of the bones which the painters of funeral hangings cross beneath
death’s heads. Then he resumed, in an ironical tone, —

‘Let us see, Master Zacharius, what is
going on in this good town of Geneva? They say that your health is failing,
that your watches have need of a doctor!’

‘Ah, do you believe that there is an
intimate relation between their existence and mine?’ cried Master Zacharius.

‘Why, I imagine that these watches have
faults, even vices. If these wantons do not preserve a regular conduct, it is
right that they should bear the consequences of their irregularity. It seems to
me that they have need of reforming a little!’

‘What do you call faults?’ asked Master
Zacharius, reddening at the sarcastic tone in which these words were uttered.
‘Have they not a right to be proud of their origin?’

‘Not too proud, not too proud,’ replied the
little old man. ‘They bear a celebrated name, and an illustrious signature is
graven on their cases, it is true, and theirs is the exclusive privilege of
being introduced among the noblest families; but for some time they have got
out of order, and you can do nothing in the matter, Master Zacharius; and the
stupidest apprentice in Geneva could prove it to you!’

‘To me, to me, – Master Zacharius!’ cried
the old man, with a flush of outraged pride.

‘To you, Master Zacharius, – you, who
cannot restore life to your watches!’

‘But it is because I have a fever, and so
have they also!’ replied the old man, as a cold sweat broke out upon him.

‘Very well, they will die with you, since
you cannot impart a little elasticity to their springs.’

‘Die! No, for you yourself have said it! I
cannot die, - I, the first watchmaker in the world; I, who, by means of these
pieces and diverse wheels, have been able to regulate the movement with
absolute precision! Have I not subjected time to exact laws, and can I not
dispose of it like a despot? Before a sublime genius had arranged these
wandering hours regularly, in what vast uncertainty was human destiny plunged?
At what certain moment could the acts of life be connected with each other? But
you, man or devil, whatever you may be, have never considered the magnificence
of my art, which calls every science to its aid! No, no! I, Master Zacharius,
cannot die, for, as I have regulated time, time would end with me! It would
return to the infinite, whence my genius has rescued it, and it would lose
itself irreparably in the abyss of nothingness! No, I can no more die than the
Creator of this universe, that submitted to His laws! I have become His equal,
and I have partaken of His power! If God has created eternity, Master Zacharius
has created time!’

The old watchmaker now resembled the fallen
angel, defiant in the presence of the Creator. The little old man gazed at him,
and even seemed to breathe into him this impious transport.

‘Well said, master,’ he replied. ‘Beelzebub
had less right than you to compare himself with God! Your glory must not
perish! So your servant here desires to give you the method of controlling
these rebellious watches.’

‘What is it? what is it?’ cried Master
Zacharius.

‘You shall know on the day after that on
which you have given me your daughter’s hand.’

‘My Gerande?’

‘Herself!’

‘My daughter’s heart is not free,’ replied
Master Zacharius, who seemed neither astonished nor shocked at the strange
demand.

‘Bah! She is not the least beautiful of
watches; but she will end by stopping also -’

‘My daughter, – my Gerande! No!’

‘Well, return to your watches, Master
Zacharius. Adjust and readjust them. Get ready the marriage of your daughter
and your apprentice. Temper your springs with your best steel. Bless Aubert and
the pretty Gerande. But remember, your watches will never go, and Gerande will
not wed Aubert!’

Thereupon the little old man disappeared,
but not so quickly that Master Zacharius could not hear six o’clock strike in
his breast.

Meanwhile Master Zacharius became more
feeble in mind and body every day. An unusual excitement, indeed, impelled him
to continue his work more eagerly than ever, nor could his daughter entice him
from it.

His pride was still more aroused after the
crisis to which his strange visitor had hurried him so treacherously, and he
resolved to overcome, by the force of genius, the malign influence which
weighed upon his work and himself. He first repaired to the various clocks of
the town which were confided to his care. He made sure, by a scrupulous
examination, that the wheels were in good condition, the pivots firm, the
weights exactly balanced. Every part, even to the bells, was examined with the
minute attention of a physician studying the breast of a patient. Nothing
indicated that these clocks were on the point of being affected by inactivity.

Gerande and Aubert often accompanied the
old man on these visits. He would no doubt have been pleased to see them eager
to go with him, and certainly he would not have been so much absorbed in his
approaching end, had he thought that his existence was to be prolonged by that
of these cherished ones, and had he understood that something of the life of a
father always remains in his children.

The old watchmaker, on returning home,
resumed his labours with feverish zeal. Though persuaded that he would not
succeed, it yet seemed to him impossible that this could be so, and he
unceasingly took to pieces the watches which were brought to his shop, and put
them together again.

Aubert tortured his mind in vain to
discover the causes of the evil.

‘Master,’ said he, ‘this can only come from
the wear of the pivots and gearing.’

‘Do you want, then, to kill me, little by
little?’ replied Master Zacharius passionately. ‘Are these watches child’s
work? Was it lest I should hurt my fingers that I worked the surface of these
copper pieces in the lathe? Have I not forged these pieces of copper myself, so
as to obtain a greater strength? Are not these springs tempered to a rare
perfection? Could anybody have used finer oils than mine? You must yourself
agree that it is impossible, and you avow, in short, that the devil is in it!’

From morning till night discontented
purchasers besieged the house, and they got access to the old watchmaker
himself, who knew not which of them to listen to.

‘This watch loses, and I cannot succeed in
regulating it,’ said one.

‘This,’ said another, ‘is absolutely obstinate,
and stands still, as did Joshua’s sun.’

‘If it is true,’ said most of them, ‘that
your health has an influence on that of your watches, Master Zacharius, get
well as soon as possible.’

The old man gazed at these people with
haggard eyes, and only replied by shaking his head, or by a few sad words, —

‘Wait till the first fine weather, my
friends. The season is coming which revives existence in wearied bodies. We
want the sun to warm us all!’

‘A fine thing, if my watches are to be ill
through the winter!’ said one of the most angry. ‘Do you know, Master
Zacharius, that your name is inscribed in full on their faces? By the Virgin,
you do little honour to your signature!’

It happened at last that the old man,
abashed by these reproaches, took some pieces of gold from his old trunk, and
began to buy back the damaged watches. At news of this, the customers came in a
crowd, and the poor watchmaker’s money fast melted away; but his honesty
remained intact. Gerande warmly praised his delicacy, which was leading him
straight towards ruin; and Aubert soon offered his own savings to his master.

‘What will become of my daughter?’ said
Master Zacharius, clinging now and then in the shipwreck to his paternal love.

Aubert dared not answer that he was full of
hope for the future, and of deep devotion to Gerande. Master Zacharius would
have that day called him his son-in-law, and thus refuted the sad prophecy,
which still buzzed in his ears, —

‘Gerande will not wed Aubert.’

By this plan the watchmaker at last
succeeded in entirely despoiling himself. His antique vases passed into the
hands of strangers; he deprived himself of the richly carved panels which
adorned the walls of his house; some primitive pictures of the early Flemish
painters soon ceased to please his daughter’s eyes, and everything, even the
precious tools that his genius had invented, were sold to indemnify the
clamorous customers.

Scholastique alone refused to listen to
reason on the subject; but her efforts failed to prevent the unwelcome visitors
from reaching her master, and from soon departing with some valuable object.
Then her chattering was heard in all the streets of the neighbourhood, where
she had long been known. She eagerly denied the rumours of sorcery and magic on
the part of Master Zacharius, which gained currency; but as at bottom she was
persuaded of their truth, she said her prayers over and over again to redeem
her pious falsehoods.

It had been noticed that for some time the
old watchmaker had neglected his religious duties. Time was, when he had
accompanied Gerande to church, and had seemed to find in prayer the
intellectual charm which it imparts to thoughtful minds, since it is the most
sublime exercise of the imagination. This voluntary neglect of holy practices,
added to the secret habits of his life, had in some sort confirmed the
accusations levelled against his labours. So, with the double purpose of
drawing her father back to God, and to the world, Gerande resolved to call
religion to her aid. She thought that it might give some vitality to his dying
soul; but the dogmas of faith and humility had to combat, in the soul of Master
Zacharius, an insurmountable pride, and came into collision with that vanity of
science which connects everything with itself, without rising to the infinite
source whence first principles flow.

It was under these circumstances that the
young girl undertook her father’s conversion; and her influence was so
effective that the old watchmaker promised to attend high mass at the cathedral
on the following Sunday. Gerande was in an ecstasy, as if heaven had opened to
her view. Old Scholastique could not contain her joy, and at last found
irrefutable arguments against the gossiping tongues which accused her master of
impiety. She spoke of it to her neighbours, her friends, her enemies, to those
whom she knew not as well as to those whom she knew.

‘In faith, we scarcely believe what you
tell us, dame Scholastique,’ they replied; ‘Master Zacharius has always acted
in concert with the devil!’

‘You haven’t counted, then,’ replied the
old servant, ‘the fine bells which strike for my master’s clocks? How many
times they have struck the hours of prayer and the mass!’

‘No doubt,’ they would reply. ‘But has he
not invented machines which go all by themselves, and which actually do the
work of a real man?’

‘Could a child of the devil,’ exclaimed
dame Scholastique wrathfully, ‘have executed the fine iron clock of the château
of Andernatt, which the town of Geneva was not rich enough to buy? A pious
motto appeared at each hour, and a Christian who obeyed them, would have gone
straight to Paradise! Is that the work of the devil?’

This masterpiece, made twenty years before,
had carried Master Zacharius’s fame to its acme; but even then there had been
accusations of sorcery against him. But at least the old man’s visit to the
cathedral ought to reduce malicious tongues to silence.

Master Zacharius, having doubtless
forgotten the promise made to his daughter, had returned to his shop. After
being convinced of his powerlessness to give life to his watches, he resolved
to try if he could not make some new ones. He abandoned all those useless
works, and devoted himself to the completion of the crystal watch, which he
intended to be his masterpiece; but in vain did he use his most perfect tools,
and employ rubies and diamonds for resisting friction. The watch fell from his
hands the first time that he attempted to wind it up!