“And when you spoke,” continued he, you talked very wildly of becoming a great man; of obtaining more enduring fame than any of our noblest citizens.  By the bye, you did me the honor to class me amongst those you were destined to triumph over.”

“It was a wild, idle thought,” said Dumiger, faltering forth a thousand apologies.  “I did not know what I said.  Two friends led me into this error.  I am sure you will forgive me, sir:  I was excited; my brain was in that state I really did not know what I said.  Who ever could have repeated this to your Excellency?”

“No one repeated it.” said the Count, “so you need not entertain any mistrust of your friends.  One of my household overheard you; and his ear having caught the sound of my name, he listened attentively, that is all.  But what does it signify?  You did just as all young men—­ay, and the best of our young men, do—­drank deep of the Rhenish.  I like you the better for it.  And then, by all accounts, you had some cause for excitement, for you believe you are to win the greatest prize that Dantzic has ever proposed for one of her citizens.”

The scene of the last night passed from Dumiger’s memory when the hope of fame and the prospect of success were mentioned.  His whole countenance changed, his eye brightened, and the nostril dilated.

“You heard that, also, your Excellency!” he said.  “Well, then, I need not scruple to tell you the truth.  Yes, I have labored night and day, and I hope to obtain the reward of all this self-sacrifice; and now I draw near the goal my blood is excited—­I am fevered by my hopes.  Look here, sir,” and forgeting all his fears and etiquettes, he took the Count by the arm and led him to a curtain which was drawn across a corner of the room where the model-clock was placed.  “Here is the work; it approaches completion; is it not worthy of the prize?”

Even to the most unpracticed eye this model of a great work appeared to be of admirable skill.  So complicated was the machinery, that the marvel seemed to be how it was possible so nicely to have arranged its various parts, that they could find sufficient space for working.  Massive weights were regulated by springs of such fine texture, that it was surprising how they could possibly have been made by a man’s rude hand.  The movement was perfectly noiseless, so beautifully were the balances arranged around the principal works of the clock itself:  the heavenly bodies were moving in harmony and regularity; the face of the clock had not yet been affixed, so the whole of the interior operations of the machinery were apparent.  The Count gazed astonished at the result of long perseverance and indomitable energy.  Dumiger stood beside him holding the massive curtain aside, and delighting in the Count’s amazement.  At length he allowed it to fall, exclaiming, with pardonable self-love, “Surely this must succeed!”

The Count resumed his seat, and, for some time, was unable to regain the composure which he had lost by the sight which he had seen.  Dumiger sat buried in thought.