The man entered the room very quickly, took his seat in Dumiger’s chair, and drew his missive from his pocket.  It was Dumiger’s bill to Hoffman for a very large sum, which had been purchased by the Count.

“What is this?” gasped forth Dumiger; for, at the moment, the debt had entirely escaped his recollection.  “Ach Gott!” exclaimed Dumiger, “is it possible?” but observing Marguerite standing by, pale, tearful, and trembling, he restrained his impetuosity.

Dumiger rose and went to a drawer.  He counted over, with the eagerness of a miser, all the dollars which were kept there,—­the few which had remained after the expenses of the last fortnight.  For some time past he had devoted all his energies so entirely to the construction of the clock, that the smallest receipts of his craft had been despised.

A cold perspiration stood on his forehead as he gazed upon his small store.  He knew too well, that by the laws of Dantzic the debtor was either dragged to the common prison or all his goods were seized.  Either alternative was terrible.  He looked round the room.  On one side stood the clock, the child of his mind and industry, on the other was Marguerite, beautiful in her grief.

The man had lit a pipe, and was carelessly smoking.

“Come,” said the officer at last, as shaking out the ashes of his pipe and drawing himself to his full stature, so as to give weight to his authority—­“come, we have no time to lose, Herr Dumiger.  The money or the furniture, or to prison.  Consult the pretty jungfrau there:  but you must come to a conclusion directly, for time presses and I have several other little bits of business to perform to-night:  so I will light another pipe while you make up your minds.”

It was no easy matter for Marguerite to bring her mind to a decision.  She thought on the one hand of the lonely nights she might have to pass; on the other, of the irreparable loss the clock would be to Dumiger.  Dumiger clasped her hands in his own, and as his lips clung to hers he exclaimed, “Perish all things but love.”  He rose—­he was on the point of desiring the man to take away the clock in payment of the debt, in the hope that he might redeem it on the morrow, when the sudden thought struck him that the Count was the instigator of this act.  He caught hold of the man by one arm, which was hanging listlessly over the back of the chair, and exclaimed—­

“Tell me who sent you on this mission.”

The man only looked round with an expression of astonishment at his presumption, and without deigning any reply, he resumed his pipe.

“Was it the Grand Master?” asked Dumiger.

“Obey my orders and ask no questions,” said the man.  “You had better follow my example.  I have told you already that there is no time to spare.  Tell me what course you intend to take.  Give up some articles in this room—­there is that clock, which will do more than pay the bill—­or follow me immediately.  There is no other alternative.”