"But more! I give you more than my word; the credit of the work is so
much to me. I beg to take only one-half of the money now--the other half
when you have seen with your own eyes--"

"Enough. I am in your hands, Monsieur Guidet, for the clock shall not be
started until I am gone."

"Gone?" The little man looked blank.

"Your clock is there to carry out the wishes of a dead man."

"Ah!" Guidet understood at last. All the happiness vanished from his
face. He regarded this man, who had chosen him from a number of
applicants responding to an advertisement, as his benefactor, his
saviour. "But not soon, not soon!" he cried with emotion.

Christopher was touched. The little man seemed to care, though their
acquaintance was not three months old. Still, they had met almost daily
in the room assigned to Guidet for his work, and the patron had taken an
interest in the man as well as his genius.

"I cannot tell how soon, my friend," he said, "but we need not talk of
it. Now tell me, Guidet, how much do I owe you?"

Guidet wiped his eyes. "One hundred and thirty pounds," he murmured, "and
I give you a thousand thanks, Mr. Craik."

"A hundred and thirty--that is the balance due on the clock itself?"
inquired Christopher, filling in the date.