"Did not the machinery of Burdeau's clock go wrong upon the occasion of its public exhibition?" asked Hanbury with a polite, malicious smile.
"It did, and the figure of the Grand Monarque, who, like me, was not over tall, instead of receiving homage from the figure of William III., fell down before the effigy of William and grovelled. Bah! there was no difficulty or merit in producing that effect."
"I was thinking of some effect wrought by that public exhibition and eccentricity on the part of the clock."
"You mean getting Burdeau thrown into the Bastille by the Grand Monarque?"
"Yes. Do you think an effect of that kind could be produced in our day by a clock?"
"Upon a clock maker?"
"Suppose so."
"Hah! You would, no doubt, like me to try it?"
"Well, you boasted you could produce any effect."
"Hah! If they did take me and throw me into the Bastille to-day, now, at this moment, I should not mind it, nor would my clock mind it either. It is not in the power of any king or potentate of earth to divorce me from my clock!" He swelled out his chest and flung his shoulders and head back.