1.1 --- /dev/null	Thu Jan 01 00:00:00 1970 +0000
     1.2 +++ b/string_search/kmp.c	Tue Aug 18 12:22:22 2015 -0500
     1.3 @@ -0,0 +1,189 @@
     1.4 +/* Demo client to compare brute force search against Knuth-Morris-Pratt string search.
     1.5 + * 
     1.6 + * gcc --std=c99 kmp.c
     1.7 + *
     1.8 + * a.out "string to find" file_to_search
     1.9 + *
    1.10 + */
    1.11 +
    1.12 +#define _GNU_SOURCE 1
    1.13 +#include <stdio.h>
    1.14 +#include <string.h>
    1.15 +#include <stddef.h>
    1.16 +#include <stdlib.h>
    1.17 +#include <sys/time.h>
    1.18 +
    1.19 +/******************************************************************************/
    1.20 +/* Knuth-Morris-Pratt algorithm
    1.21 + * 
    1.22 + * As described on Wikipedia
    1.23 + * https://duckduckgo.com/l/?kh=-1&uddg=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FKnuth-Morris-Pratt_algorithm
    1.24 + */
    1.25 +
    1.26 +size_t kmp_search( char *haystack, char *needle ) {
    1.27 +
    1.28 +    size_t haystack_length = strlen(haystack);
    1.29 +    size_t needle_length = strlen(needle);
    1.30 +
    1.31 +    /* Build the backup table */
    1.32 +
    1.33 +    int pos = 2;
    1.34 +    int cnd = 0;
    1.35 +
    1.36 +    needle_length = strlen( needle );
    1.37 +
    1.38 +    int *table = malloc( needle_length * sizeof(int) );
    1.39 +    table[0] = -1;
    1.40 +    table[1] = 0;
    1.41 +
    1.42 +    while ( pos < needle_length ) {
    1.43 +        if ( needle[pos-1] == needle[cnd] ) {
    1.44 +            cnd++;
    1.45 +            table[pos] = cnd;
    1.46 +            pos++;
    1.47 +        }
    1.48 +        else if ( cnd > 0 ) {
    1.49 +            cnd = table[cnd];
    1.50 +        }
    1.51 +        else {
    1.52 +            table[pos] = 0;
    1.53 +            pos++;
    1.54 +        }
    1.55 +    }
    1.56 +
    1.57 +    /* Do the actual search */
    1.58 +
    1.59 +    size_t m = 0;
    1.60 +    size_t i = 0;
    1.61 +
    1.62 +    while ( m + i < haystack_length ) {
    1.63 +        if ( needle[i] == haystack[m+i] ) {
    1.64 +            if ( i == needle_length - 1 ) {
    1.65 +                return m;
    1.66 +            }
    1.67 +            i++;
    1.68 +        }
    1.69 +        else {
    1.70 +            if ( table[i] > -1 ) {
    1.71 +                m = m + i - table[i];
    1.72 +                i = table[i];
    1.73 +            } else {
    1.74 +                i = 0;
    1.75 +                m++;
    1.76 +            }
    1.77 +        }
    1.78 +    }
    1.79 +
    1.80 +    return -1;
    1.81 +}
    1.82 +
    1.83 +/******************************************************************************/
    1.84 +/* brute force search
    1.85 + */
    1.86 +
    1.87 +size_t find_string ( char *haystack, char * needle ) {
    1.88 +
    1.89 +    int needle_length = strlen( needle );
    1.90 +    int haystack_length = strlen( haystack );
    1.91 +    for ( size_t i = 0; i < haystack_length - needle_length; i++) {
    1.92 +        if ( strncmp( needle, &haystack[i], needle_length ) == 0 ) {
    1.93 +            return i;
    1.94 +        }
    1.95 +    }
    1.96 +    return -1;
    1.97 +}
    1.98 +
    1.99 +/******************************************************************************/
   1.100 +
   1.101 +void timevaldiff( struct timeval *elapsed, struct timeval *start, struct timeval *end ) {
   1.102 +    time_t sec;
   1.103 +    suseconds_t usec;
   1.104 +
   1.105 +    sec = end->tv_sec - start->tv_sec;
   1.106 +    usec = end->tv_usec - start->tv_usec;
   1.107 +
   1.108 +    while ( usec > 1000000 ) {
   1.109 +        sec += 1;
   1.110 +        usec -= 1000000;
   1.111 +        }
   1.112 +
   1.113 +    elapsed->tv_sec = sec;
   1.114 +    elapsed->tv_usec = usec;
   1.115 +    }
   1.116 +
   1.117 +/******************************************************************************/
   1.118 +
   1.119 +int main( int argc, char **argv ) {
   1.120 +    char *def_needle = "ABCDABD";
   1.121 +    char *def_haystack = "ABC ABCDAB ABCDABCDABDE";
   1.122 +
   1.123 +    char * needle;
   1.124 +    char * haystack;
   1.125 +    size_t haystack_max;
   1.126 +    size_t haystack_top = 0;
   1.127 +    haystack = malloc( sizeof( char ) );
   1.128 +    haystack_max = 1;
   1.129 +
   1.130 +    if ( argc >= 2 ) {
   1.131 +        needle = argv[1];
   1.132 +        }
   1.133 +    else {
   1.134 +        needle = def_needle;
   1.135 +        }
   1.136 +
   1.137 +    if ( argc >= 3 ) {
   1.138 +        FILE * file;
   1.139 +        char buffer[65536];
   1.140 +        size_t bytes_read;
   1.141 +
   1.142 +        file = fopen( argv[2], "r" );
   1.143 +        while ( bytes_read = fread( buffer, sizeof( char ), sizeof( buffer ), file ) ) {
   1.144 +            while ( haystack_max - haystack_top < bytes_read ) {
   1.145 +                size_t new_haystack_max = 2 * haystack_max;
   1.146 +                char * new_haystack = malloc( new_haystack_max );
   1.147 +                for ( size_t i = 0; i < haystack_max; i++ ) {
   1.148 +                    new_haystack[i] = haystack[i];
   1.149 +                    }
   1.150 +                free( haystack );
   1.151 +                haystack = new_haystack;
   1.152 +                haystack_max = new_haystack_max;
   1.153 +                }
   1.154 +            memcpy( &haystack[ haystack_top ], buffer, bytes_read );
   1.155 +            }
   1.156 +
   1.157 +        fclose( file );
   1.158 +        }
   1.159 +    else {
   1.160 +        haystack = def_haystack;
   1.161 +        }
   1.162 +
   1.163 +
   1.164 +    struct timeval start;
   1.165 +    struct timeval end;
   1.166 +    struct timeval elapsed;
   1.167 +    size_t pos;
   1.168 +    char * found;
   1.169 +
   1.170 +    gettimeofday( &start, NULL );
   1.171 +    pos = kmp_search( haystack, needle );
   1.172 +    gettimeofday( &end, NULL );
   1.173 +    timevaldiff( &elapsed, &start, &end );
   1.174 +
   1.175 +    printf( "pos %d\n", pos );
   1.176 +    found = strndup( &haystack[pos], strlen(needle)+80 );
   1.177 +    printf( "found >%s<\n", found );
   1.178 +    printf( "kmp found in %d.%06d seconds\n", elapsed.tv_sec, elapsed.tv_usec );
   1.179 +
   1.180 +
   1.181 +    gettimeofday( &start, NULL );
   1.182 +    pos = find_string( haystack, needle );
   1.183 +    gettimeofday( &end, NULL );
   1.184 +    timevaldiff( &elapsed, &start, &end );
   1.185 +
   1.186 +    printf( "pos %d\n", pos );
   1.187 +    found = strndup( &haystack[pos], strlen(needle)+80 );
   1.188 +    printf( "found >%s<\n", found );
   1.189 +    printf( "brute force found in %d.%06d seconds\n", elapsed.tv_sec, elapsed.tv_usec );
   1.190 +
   1.191 +    exit( EXIT_SUCCESS );
   1.192 +    }

     2.1 --- /dev/null	Thu Jan 01 00:00:00 1970 +0000
     2.2 +++ b/string_search/tale.txt	Tue Aug 18 12:22:22 2015 -0500
     2.3 @@ -0,0 +1,18940 @@
     2.4 +A Tale of Two Cities 
     2.5 +
     2.6 +Dickens, Charles 
     2.7 +
     2.8 +
     2.9 +
    2.10 +Published: 1859 
    2.11 +Type(s): Novels, History 
    2.12 +Source: Wikisource 
    2.13 +
    2.14 +
    2.15 +
    2.16 +About Dickens: 
    2.17 +
    2.18 +Charles John Huffam Dickens pen-name "Boz", was the foremost Eng- 
    2.19 +lish novelist of the Victorian era, as well as a vigorous social campaigner. 
    2.20 +Considered one of the English language's greatest writers, he was ac- 
    2.21 +claimed for his rich storytelling and memorable characters, and achieved 
    2.22 +massive worldwide popularity in his lifetime. 
    2.23 +
    2.24 +Later critics, beginning with George Gissing and G. K. Chesterton, 
    2.25 +championed his mastery of prose, his endless invention of memorable 
    2.26 +characters and his powerful social sensibilities. Yet he has also received 
    2.27 +criticism from writers such as George Henry Lewes, Henry James, and 
    2.28 +Virginia Woolf, who list sentimentality, implausible occurrence and grot- 
    2.29 +esque characters as faults in his oeuvre. 
    2.30 +
    2.31 +The popularity of Dickens' novels and short stories has meant that 
    2.32 +none have ever gone out of print. Dickens wrote serialised novels, which 
    2.33 +was the usual format for fiction at the time, and each new part of his 
    2.34 +stories would be eagerly anticipated by the reading public. 
    2.35 +
    2.36 +Source: Wikipedia 
    2.37 +
    2.38 +Also available on Feedbooks for Dickens: 
    2.39 +
    2.40 +* A Christmas Carol (1843) 
    2.41 +
    2.42 +* Great Expectations (1861) 
    2.43 +
    2.44 +* Oliver Twist (1867) 
    2.45 +
    2.46 +* David Copperfield (1850) 
    2.47 +
    2.48 +* Bleak House (1853) 
    2.49 +
    2.50 +* The Haunted House (1859) 
    2.51 +
    2.52 +* The Pickwick Papers (1832) 
    2.53 +
    2.54 +* A Christmas Tree (1850) 
    2.55 +
    2.56 +* Little Dorrit (1857) 
    2.57 +
    2.58 +* Hard Times (1850) 
    2.59 +
    2.60 +Note: This book is brought to you by Feedbooks. 
    2.61 +
    2.62 +http://www.feedbooks.com 
    2.63 +
    2.64 +Strictly for personal use, do not use this file for commercial purposes. 
    2.65 +
    2.66 +
    2.67 +
    2.68 +Part i 
    2.69 +Recalled to Life 
    2.70 +
    2.71 +
    2.72 +
    2.73 +Chapter 
    2.74 +
    2.75 +
    2.76 +
    2.77 +1 
    2.78 +
    2.79 +
    2.80 +
    2.81 +The Period 
    2.82 +
    2.83 +It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wis- 
    2.84 +dom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the 
    2.85 +epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of 
    2.86 +Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had 
    2.87 +everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct 
    2.88 +to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period 
    2.89 +was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities in- 
    2.90 +sisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree 
    2.91 +of comparison only. 
    2.92 +
    2.93 +There was a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the 
    2.94 +throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a 
    2.95 +fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer than 
    2.96 +crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, that things 
    2.97 +in general were settled for ever. 
    2.98 +
    2.99 +It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy- 
   2.100 +five. Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured 
   2.101 +period, as at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and- 
   2.102 +twentieth blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life 
   2.103 +Guards had heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that ar- 
   2.104 +rangements were made for the swallowing up of London and Westmin- 
   2.105 +ster. Even the Cock-lane ghost had been laid only a round dozen of 
   2.106 +years, after rapping out its messages, as the spirits of this very year last 
   2.107 +past (supernaturally deficient in originality) rapped out theirs. Mere 
   2.108 +messages in the earthly order of events had lately come to the English 
   2.109 +Crown and People, from a congress of British subjects in America: 
   2.110 +which, strange to relate, have proved more important to the human race 
   2.111 +than any communications yet received through any of the chickens of the 
   2.112 +Cock-lane brood. France, less favoured on the whole as to matters spir- 
   2.113 +itual than her sister of the shield and trident, rolled with exceeding 
   2.114 +smoothness down hill, making paper money and spending it. Under the 
   2.115 +
   2.116 +
   2.117 +
   2.118 +guidance of her Christian pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with 
   2.119 +such humane achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut 
   2.120 +off, his tongue torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because 
   2.121 +he had not kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession 
   2.122 +of monks which passed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or 
   2.123 +sixty yards. It is likely enough that, rooted in the woods of France and 
   2.124 +Norway, there were growing trees, when that sufferer was put to death, 
   2.125 +already marked by the Woodman, Fate, to come down and be sawn into 
   2.126 +boards, to make a certain movable framework with a sack and a knife in 
   2.127 +it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in the rough outhouses of 
   2.128 +some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there were sheltered 
   2.129 +from the weather that very day, rude carts, bespattered with rustic mire, 
   2.130 +snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which the Farmer, 
   2.131 +Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils of the Revolution. But that 
   2.132 +Woodman and that Farmer, though they work unceasingly, work si- 
   2.133 +lently, and no one heard them as they went about with muffled tread: 
   2.134 +the rather, forasmuch as to entertain any suspicion that they were awake, 
   2.135 +was to be atheistical and traitorous. 
   2.136 +
   2.137 +In England, there was scarcely an amount of order and protection to 
   2.138 +justify much national boasting. Daring burglaries by armed men, and 
   2.139 +highway robberies, took place in the capital itself every night; families 
   2.140 +were publicly cautioned not to go out of town without removing their 
   2.141 +furniture to upholsterers' warehouses for security; the highwayman in 
   2.142 +the dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised and 
   2.143 +challenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of 
   2.144 +"the Captain," gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the 
   2.145 +mall was waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, and 
   2.146 +then got shot dead himself by the other four, "in consequence of the fail- 
   2.147 +ure of his ammunition" after which the mall was robbed in peace; that 
   2.148 +magnificent potentate, the Lord Mayor of London, was made to stand 
   2.149 +and deliver on Turnham Green, by one highwayman, who despoiled the 
   2.150 +illustrious creature in sight of all his retinue; prisoners in London gaols 
   2.151 +fought battles with their turnkeys, and the majesty of the law fired blun- 
   2.152 +derbusses in among them, loaded with rounds of shot and ball; thieves 
   2.153 +snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of noble lords at Court 
   2.154 +drawing-rooms; musketeers went into St. Giles's, to search for contra- 
   2.155 +band goods, and the mob fired on the musketeers, and the musketeers 
   2.156 +fired on the mob, and nobody thought any of these occurrences much 
   2.157 +out of the common way. In the midst of them, the hangman, ever busy 
   2.158 +and ever worse than useless, was in constant requisition; now, stringing 
   2.159 +
   2.160 +
   2.161 +
   2.162 +up long rows of miscellaneous criminals; now, hanging a housebreaker 
   2.163 +on Saturday who had been taken on Tuesday; now, burning people in 
   2.164 +the hand at Newgate by the dozen, and now burning pamphlets at the 
   2.165 +door of Westminster Hall; to-day, taking the life of an atrocious murder- 
   2.166 +er, and to-morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a farmer's boy 
   2.167 +of sixpence. 
   2.168 +
   2.169 +All these things, and a thousand like them, came to pass in and close 
   2.170 +upon the dear old year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. 
   2.171 +Environed by them, while the Woodman and the Farmer worked un- 
   2.172 +heeded, those two of the large jaws, and those other two of the plain and 
   2.173 +the fair faces, trod with stir enough, and carried their divine rights with a 
   2.174 +high hand. Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy- 
   2.175 +five conduct their Greatnesses, and myriads of small creatures - the 
   2.176 +creatures of this chronicle among the rest - along the roads that lay be- 
   2.177 +fore them. 
   2.178 +
   2.179 +
   2.180 +
   2.181 +Chapter 
   2.182 +
   2.183 +
   2.184 +
   2.185 +2 
   2.186 +
   2.187 +
   2.188 +
   2.189 +The Mail 
   2.190 +
   2.191 +It was the Dover road that lay, on a Friday night late in November, be- 
   2.192 +fore the first of the persons with whom this history has business. The 
   2.193 +Dover road lay, as to him, beyond the Dover mail, as it lumbered up 
   2.194 +Shooter's Hill. He walked up hill in the mire by the side of the mail, as 
   2.195 +the rest of the passengers did; not because they had the least relish for 
   2.196 +walking exercise, under the circumstances, but because the hill, and the 
   2.197 +harness, and the mud, and the mail, were all so heavy, that the horses 
   2.198 +had three times already come to a stop, besides once drawing the coach 
   2.199 +across the road, with the mutinous intent of taking it back to Blackheath. 
   2.200 +Reins and whip and coachman and guard, however, in combination, had 
   2.201 +read that article of war which forbade a purpose otherwise strongly in 
   2.202 +favour of the argument, that some brute animals are endued with 
   2.203 +Reason; and the team had capitulated and returned to their duty. 
   2.204 +
   2.205 +With drooping heads and tremulous tails, they mashed their way 
   2.206 +through the thick mud, floundering and stumbling between whiles, as if 
   2.207 +they were falling to pieces at the larger joints. As often as the driver res- 
   2.208 +ted them and brought them to a stand, with a wary "Wo-ho! so-ho- 
   2.209 +then!" the near leader violently shook his head and everything upon 
   2.210 +it - like an unusually emphatic horse, denying that the coach could be 
   2.211 +got up the hill. Whenever the leader made this rattle, the passenger star- 
   2.212 +ted, as a nervous passenger might, and was disturbed in mind. 
   2.213 +
   2.214 +There was a steaming mist in all the hollows, and it had roamed in its 
   2.215 +forlornness up the hill, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and finding none. 
   2.216 +A clammy and intensely cold mist, it made its slow way through the air 
   2.217 +in ripples that visibly followed and overspread one another, as the 
   2.218 +waves of an unwholesome sea might do. It was dense enough to shut out 
   2.219 +everything from the light of the coach-lamps but these its own workings, 
   2.220 +and a few yards of road; and the reek of the labouring horses steamed in- 
   2.221 +to it, as if they had made it all. 
   2.222 +
   2.223 +
   2.224 +
   2.225 +Two other passengers, besides the one, were plodding up the hill by 
   2.226 +the side of the mail. All three were wrapped to the cheekbones and over 
   2.227 +the ears, and wore jack-boots. Not one of the three could have said, from 
   2.228 +anything he saw, what either of the other two was like; and each was 
   2.229 +hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind, as 
   2.230 +from the eyes of the body, of his two companions. In those days, travel- 
   2.231 +lers were very shy of being confidential on a short notice, for anybody on 
   2.232 +the road might be a robber or in league with robbers. As to the latter, 
   2.233 +when every posting-house and ale-house could produce somebody in 
   2.234 +"the Captain's" pay, ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable non- 
   2.235 +descript, it was the likeliest thing upon the cards. So the guard of the 
   2.236 +Dover mail thought to himself, that Friday night in November, one thou- 
   2.237 +sand seven hundred and seventy-five, lumbering up Shooter's Hill, as he 
   2.238 +stood on his own particular perch behind the mail, beating his feet, and 
   2.239 +keeping an eye and a hand on the arm-chest before him, where a loaded 
   2.240 +blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight loaded horse-pistols, deposited 
   2.241 +on a substratum of cutlass. 
   2.242 +
   2.243 +The Dover mail was in its usual genial position that the guard suspec- 
   2.244 +ted the passengers, the passengers suspected one another and the guard, 
   2.245 +they all suspected everybody else, and the coachman was sure of nothing 
   2.246 +but the horses; as to which cattle he could with a clear conscience have 
   2.247 +taken his oath on the two Testaments that they were not fit for the 
   2.248 +journey. 
   2.249 +
   2.250 +"Wo-ho!" said the coachman. "So, then! One more pull and you're at 
   2.251 +the top and be damned to you, for I have had trouble enough to get you 
   2.252 +to it!- Joe!" 
   2.253 +
   2.254 +"Halloa!" the guard replied. 
   2.255 +
   2.256 +"What o'clock do you make it, Joe?" 
   2.257 +
   2.258 +"Ten minutes, good, past eleven." 
   2.259 +
   2.260 +"My blood!" ejaculated the vexed coachman, "and not atop of Shoot- 
   2.261 +er's yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!" 
   2.262 +
   2.263 +The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip in a most decided negative, 
   2.264 +made a decided scramble for it, and the three other horses followed suit. 
   2.265 +Once more, the Dover mail struggled on, with the jack-boots of its pas- 
   2.266 +sengers squashing along by its side. They had stopped when the coach 
   2.267 +stopped, and they kept close company with it. If any one of the three had 
   2.268 +had the hardihood to propose to another to walk on a little ahead into 
   2.269 +the mist and darkness, he would have put himself in a fair way of getting 
   2.270 +shot instantly as a highwayman. 
   2.271 +
   2.272 +
   2.273 +
   2.274 +8 
   2.275 +
   2.276 +
   2.277 +
   2.278 +The last burst carried the mail to the summit of the hill. The horses 
   2.279 +stopped to breathe again, and the guard got down to skid the wheel for 
   2.280 +the descent, and open the coach-door to let the passengers in. 
   2.281 +
   2.282 +"Tst! Joe!" cried the coachman in a warning voice, looking down from 
   2.283 +his box. 
   2.284 +
   2.285 +"What do you say, Tom?" 
   2.286 +
   2.287 +They both listened. 
   2.288 +
   2.289 +"I say a horse at a canter coming up, Joe." 
   2.290 +
   2.291 +"I say a horse at a gallop, Tom," returned the guard, leaving his hold 
   2.292 +of the door, and mounting nimbly to his place. "Gentlemen! In the kings 
   2.293 +name, all of you!" 
   2.294 +
   2.295 +With this hurried adjuration, he cocked his blunderbuss, and stood on 
   2.296 +the offensive. 
   2.297 +
   2.298 +The passenger booked by this history, was on the coach-step, getting 
   2.299 +in; the two other passengers were close behind him, and about to follow. 
   2.300 +He remained on the step, half in the coach and half out of; they re- 
   2.301 +mained in the road below him. They all looked from the coachman to the 
   2.302 +guard, and from the guard to the coachman, and listened. The coachman 
   2.303 +looked back and the guard looked back, and even the emphatic leader 
   2.304 +pricked up his ears and looked back, without contradicting. 
   2.305 +
   2.306 +The stillness consequent on the cessation of the rumbling and labour- 
   2.307 +ing of the coach, added to the stillness of the night, made it very quiet in- 
   2.308 +deed. The panting of the horses communicated a tremulous motion to 
   2.309 +the coach, as if it were in a state of agitation. The hearts of the passengers 
   2.310 +beat loud enough perhaps to be heard; but at any rate, the quiet pause 
   2.311 +was audibly expressive of people out of breath, and holding the breath, 
   2.312 +and having the pulses quickened by expectation. 
   2.313 +
   2.314 +The sound of a horse at a gallop came fast and furiously up the hill. 
   2.315 +
   2.316 +"So-ho!" the guard sang out, as loud as he could roar. "Yo there! 
   2.317 +Stand! I shall fire!" 
   2.318 +
   2.319 +The pace was suddenly checked, and, with much splashing and 
   2.320 +floundering, a man's voice called from the mist, "Is that the Dover mail?" 
   2.321 +
   2.322 +"Never you mind what it is!" the guard retorted. "What are you?" 
   2.323 +
   2.324 +"Is that the Dover mail?" 
   2.325 +
   2.326 +"Why do you want to know?" 
   2.327 +
   2.328 +"I want a passenger, if it is." 
   2.329 +
   2.330 +
   2.331 +
   2.332 +9 
   2.333 +
   2.334 +
   2.335 +
   2.336 +"What passenger?" 
   2.337 +
   2.338 +"Mr. Jarvis Lorry." 
   2.339 +
   2.340 +Our booked passenger showed in a moment that it was his name. The 
   2.341 +guard, the coachman, and the two other passengers eyed him 
   2.342 +distrustfully. 
   2.343 +
   2.344 +"Keep where you are," the guard called to the voice in the mist, 
   2.345 +"because, if I should make a mistake, it could never be set right in your 
   2.346 +lifetime. Gentleman of the name of Lorry answer straight." 
   2.347 +
   2.348 +"What is the matter?" asked the passenger, then, with mildly quaver- 
   2.349 +ing speech. "Who wants me? Is it Jerry?" 
   2.350 +
   2.351 +("I don't like Jerry's voice, if it is Jerry," growled the guard to himself. 
   2.352 +"He's hoarser than suits me, is Jerry.") 
   2.353 +
   2.354 +"Yes, Mr. Lorry." 
   2.355 +
   2.356 +"What is the matter?" 
   2.357 +
   2.358 +"A despatch sent after you from over yonder. T. and Co." 
   2.359 +
   2.360 +"I know this messenger, guard," said Mr. Lorry, getting down into the 
   2.361 +road - assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two 
   2.362 +passengers, who immediately scrambled into the coach, shut the door, 
   2.363 +and pulled up the window. "He may come close; there's nothing 
   2.364 +wrong." 
   2.365 +
   2.366 +"I hope there ain't, but I can't make so 'Nation sure of that," said the 
   2.367 +guard, in gruff soliloquy. "Hallo you!" 
   2.368 +
   2.369 +"Well! And hallo you!" said Jerry, more hoarsely than before. 
   2.370 +
   2.371 +"Come on at a footpace! d'ye mind me? And if you've got holsters to 
   2.372 +that saddle o' yourn, don't let me see your hand go nigh 'em. For I'm a 
   2.373 +devil at a quick mistake, and when I make one it takes the form of Lead. 
   2.374 +So now let's look at you." 
   2.375 +
   2.376 +The figures of a horse and rider came slowly through the eddying 
   2.377 +mist, and came to the side of the mail, where the passenger stood. The 
   2.378 +rider stooped, and, casting up his eyes at the guard, handed the passen- 
   2.379 +ger a small folded paper. The rider's horse was blown, and both horse 
   2.380 +and rider were covered with mud, from the hoofs of the horse to the hat 
   2.381 +of the man. 
   2.382 +
   2.383 +"Guard!" said the passenger, in a tone of quiet business confidence. 
   2.384 +
   2.385 +The watchful guard, with his right hand at the stock of his raised blun- 
   2.386 +derbuss, his left at the barrel, and his eye on the horseman, answered 
   2.387 +curtly, "Sir." 
   2.388 +
   2.389 +
   2.390 +
   2.391 +10 
   2.392 +
   2.393 +
   2.394 +
   2.395 +"There is nothing to apprehend. I belong to Tellson's Bank. You must 
   2.396 +know Tellson's Bank in London. I am going to Paris on business. A 
   2.397 +crown to drink. I may read this?" 
   2.398 +
   2.399 +"If so be as you're quick, sir." 
   2.400 +
   2.401 +He opened it in the light of the coach-lamp on that side, and 
   2.402 +read - first to himself and then aloud: "'Wait at Dover for Mam'selle.' It's 
   2.403 +not long, you see, guard. Jerry, say that my answer was, RECALLED TO 
   2.404 +LIFE." 
   2.405 +
   2.406 +Jerry started in his saddle. "That's a Blazing strange answer, too," said 
   2.407 +he, at his hoarsest. 
   2.408 +
   2.409 +"Take that message back, and they will know that I received this, as 
   2.410 +well as if I wrote. Make the best of your way. Good night." 
   2.411 +
   2.412 +With those words the passenger opened the coach-door and got in; not 
   2.413 +at all assisted by his fellow-passengers, who had expeditiously secreted 
   2.414 +their watches and purses in their boots, and were now making a general 
   2.415 +pretence of being asleep. With no more definite purpose than to escape 
   2.416 +the hazard of originating any other kind of action. 
   2.417 +
   2.418 +The coach lumbered on again, with heavier wreaths of mist closing 
   2.419 +round it as it began the descent. The guard soon replaced his blunder- 
   2.420 +buss in his arm-chest, and, having looked to the rest of its contents, and 
   2.421 +having looked to the supplementary pistols that he wore in his belt, 
   2.422 +looked to a smaller chest beneath his seat, in which there were a few 
   2.423 +smith's tools, a couple of torches, and a tinder-box. For he was furnished 
   2.424 +with that completeness that if the coach-lamps had been blown and 
   2.425 +stormed out, which did occasionally happen, he had only to shut himself 
   2.426 +up inside, keep the flint and steel sparks well off the straw, and get a 
   2.427 +light with tolerable safety and ease (if he were lucky) in five minutes. 
   2.428 +
   2.429 +"Tom!" softly over the coach roof. 
   2.430 +
   2.431 +"Hallo, Joe." 
   2.432 +
   2.433 +"Did you hear the message?" 
   2.434 +
   2.435 +"I did, Joe." 
   2.436 +
   2.437 +"What did you make of it, Tom?" 
   2.438 +
   2.439 +"Nothing at all, Joe." 
   2.440 +
   2.441 +"That's a coincidence, too," the guard mused, "for I made the same of 
   2.442 +it myself." 
   2.443 +
   2.444 +Jerry, left alone in the mist and darkness, dismounted meanwhile, not 
   2.445 +only to ease his spent horse, but to wipe the mud from his face, and 
   2.446 +
   2.447 +
   2.448 +
   2.449 +11 
   2.450 +
   2.451 +
   2.452 +
   2.453 +shake the wet out of his hat-brim, which might be capable of holding 
   2.454 +about half a gallon. After standing with the bridle over his heavily- 
   2.455 +splashed arm, until the wheels of the mail were no longer within hearing 
   2.456 +and the night was quite still again, he turned to walk down the hill. 
   2.457 +
   2.458 +"After that there gallop from Temple Bar, old lady, I won't trust your 
   2.459 +fore-legs till I get you on the level," said this hoarse messenger, glancing 
   2.460 +at his mare. "'Recalled to life.' That's a Blazing strange message. Much of 
   2.461 +that wouldn't do for you, Jerry! I say, Jerry! You'd be in a Blazing bad 
   2.462 +way, if recalling to life was to come into fashion, Jerry!" 
   2.463 +
   2.464 +
   2.465 +
   2.466 +12 
   2.467 +
   2.468 +
   2.469 +
   2.470 +Chapter 
   2.471 +
   2.472 +
   2.473 +
   2.474 +3 
   2.475 +
   2.476 +
   2.477 +
   2.478 +The Night Shadows 
   2.479 +
   2.480 +A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is consti- 
   2.481 +tuted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn 
   2.482 +consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those 
   2.483 +darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every 
   2.484 +one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hun- 
   2.485 +dreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret 
   2.486 +to the heart nearest it! Something of the awfulness, even of Death itself, is 
   2.487 +referable to this. No more can I turn the leaves of this dear book that I 
   2.488 +loved, and vainly hope in time to read it all. No more can I look into the 
   2.489 +depths of this unfathomable water, wherein, as momentary lights 
   2.490 +glanced into it, I have had glimpses of buried treasure and other things 
   2.491 +submerged. It was appointed that the book should shut with a spring, 
   2.492 +for ever and for ever, when I had read but a page. It was appointed that 
   2.493 +the water should be locked in an eternal frost, when the light was play- 
   2.494 +ing on its surface, and I stood in ignorance on the shore. My friend is 
   2.495 +dead, my neighbour is dead, my love, the darling of my soul, is dead; it 
   2.496 +is the inexorable consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was al- 
   2.497 +ways in that individuality, and which I shall carry in mine to my life's 
   2.498 +end. In any of the burial-places of this city through which I pass, is there 
   2.499 +a sleeper more inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their inner- 
   2.500 +most personality, to me, or than I am to them? 
   2.501 +
   2.502 +As to this, his natural and not to be alienated inheritance, the messen- 
   2.503 +ger on horseback had exactly the same possessions as the King, the first 
   2.504 +Minister of State, or the richest merchant in London. So with the three 
   2.505 +passengers shut up in the narrow compass of one lumbering old mail 
   2.506 +coach; they were mysteries to one another, as complete as if each had 
   2.507 +been in his own coach and six, or his own coach and sixty, with the 
   2.508 +breadth of a county between him and the next. 
   2.509 +
   2.510 +The messenger rode back at an easy trot, stopping pretty often at ale- 
   2.511 +houses by the way to drink, but evincing a tendency to keep his own 
   2.512 +
   2.513 +
   2.514 +
   2.515 +13 
   2.516 +
   2.517 +
   2.518 +
   2.519 +counsel, and to keep his hat cocked over his eyes. He had eyes that assor- 
   2.520 +ted very well with that decoration, being of a surface black, with no 
   2.521 +depth in the colour or form, and much too near together - as if they were 
   2.522 +afraid of being found out in something, singly, if they kept too far apart. 
   2.523 +They had a sinister expression, under an old cocked-hat like a three- 
   2.524 +cornered spittoon, and over a great muffler for the chin and throat, 
   2.525 +which descended nearly to the wearer's knees. When he stopped for 
   2.526 +drink, he moved this muffler with his left hand, only while he poured his 
   2.527 +liquor in with his right; as soon as that was done, he muffled again. 
   2.528 +
   2.529 +"No, Jerry, no!" said the messenger, harping on one theme as he rode. 
   2.530 +"It wouldn't do for you, Jerry. Jerry, you honest tradesman, it wouldn't 
   2.531 +suit your line of business! Recalled - ! Bust me if I don't think he'd been a 
   2.532 +drinking!" 
   2.533 +
   2.534 +His message perplexed his mind to that degree that he was fain, sever- 
   2.535 +al times, to take off his hat to scratch his head. Except on the crown, 
   2.536 +which was raggedly bald, he had stiff, black hair, standing jaggedly all 
   2.537 +over it, and growing down hill almost to his broad, blunt nose. It was so 
   2.538 +like Smith's work, so much more like the top of a strongly spiked wall 
   2.539 +than a head of hair, that the best of players at leap-frog might have de- 
   2.540 +clined him, as the most dangerous man in the world to go over. 
   2.541 +
   2.542 +While he trotted back with the message he was to deliver to the night 
   2.543 +watchman in his box at the door of Tellson's Bank, by Temple Bar, who 
   2.544 +was to deliver it to greater authorities within, the shadows of the night 
   2.545 +took such shapes to him as arose out of the message, and took such 
   2.546 +shapes to the mare as arose out of her private topics of uneasiness. They 
   2.547 +seemed to be numerous, for she shied at every shadow on the road. 
   2.548 +
   2.549 +What time, the mail-coach lumbered, jolted, rattled, and bumped upon 
   2.550 +its tedious way, with its three fellow-inscrutables inside. To whom, like- 
   2.551 +wise, the shadows of the night revealed themselves, in the forms their 
   2.552 +dozing eyes and wandering thoughts suggested. 
   2.553 +
   2.554 +Tellson's Bank had a run upon it in the mail. As the bank passen- 
   2.555 +ger - with an arm drawn through the leathern strap, which did what lay 
   2.556 +in it to keep him from pounding against the next passenger, and driving 
   2.557 +him into his corner, whenever the coach got a special jolt - nodded in his 
   2.558 +place, with half-shut eyes, the little coach-windows, and the coach-lamp 
   2.559 +dimly gleaming through them, and the bulky bundle of opposite passen- 
   2.560 +ger, became the bank, and did a great stroke of business. The rattle of the 
   2.561 +harness was the chink of money, and more drafts were honoured in five 
   2.562 +minutes than even Tellson's, with all its foreign and home connexion, 
   2.563 +
   2.564 +
   2.565 +
   2.566 +14 
   2.567 +
   2.568 +
   2.569 +
   2.570 +ever paid in thrice the time. Then the strong-rooms underground, at Tell- 
   2.571 +son's, with such of their valuable stores and secrets as were known to the 
   2.572 +passenger (and it was not a little that he knew about them), opened be- 
   2.573 +fore him, and he went in among them with the great keys and the feebly- 
   2.574 +burning candle, and found them safe, and strong, and sound, and still, 
   2.575 +just as he had last seen them. 
   2.576 +
   2.577 +But, though the bank was almost always with him, and though the 
   2.578 +coach (in a confused way, like the presence of pain under an opiate) was 
   2.579 +always with him, there was another current of impression that never 
   2.580 +ceased to run, all through the night. He was on his way to dig some one 
   2.581 +out of a grave. 
   2.582 +
   2.583 +Now, which of the multitude of faces that showed themselves before 
   2.584 +him was the true face of the buried person, the shadows of the night did 
   2.585 +not indicate; but they were all the faces of a man of five-and-forty by 
   2.586 +years, and they differed principally in the passions they expressed, and 
   2.587 +in the ghastliness of their worn and wasted state. Pride, contempt, defi- 
   2.588 +ance, stubbornness, submission, lamentation, succeeded one another; so 
   2.589 +did varieties of sunken cheek, cadaverous colour, emaciated hands and 
   2.590 +figures. But the face was in the main one face, and every head was pre- 
   2.591 +maturely white. A hundred times the dozing passenger inquired of this 
   2.592 +spectre: 
   2.593 +
   2.594 +"Buried how long?" 
   2.595 +
   2.596 +The answer was always the same: "Almost eighteen years." 
   2.597 +
   2.598 +"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?" 
   2.599 +
   2.600 +"Long ago." 
   2.601 +
   2.602 +"You know that you are recalled to life?" 
   2.603 +
   2.604 +"They tell me so." 
   2.605 +
   2.606 +"I hope you care to live?" 
   2.607 +
   2.608 +"I can't say." 
   2.609 +
   2.610 +"Shall I show her to you? Will you come and see her?" 
   2.611 +
   2.612 +The answers to this question were various and contradictory. Some- 
   2.613 +times the broken reply was, "Wait! It would kill me if I saw her too 
   2.614 +soon." Sometimes, it was given in a tender rain of tears, and then it was, 
   2.615 +"Take me to her." Sometimes it was staring and bewildered, and then it 
   2.616 +was, "I don't know her. I don't understand." 
   2.617 +
   2.618 +After such imaginary discourse, the passenger in his fancy would dig, 
   2.619 +and dig, dig - now with a spade, now with a great key, now with his 
   2.620 +
   2.621 +
   2.622 +
   2.623 +15 
   2.624 +
   2.625 +
   2.626 +
   2.627 +hands - to dig this wretched creature out. Got out at last, with earth 
   2.628 +hanging about his face and hair, he would suddenly fan away to dust. 
   2.629 +The passenger would then start to himself, and lower the window, to get 
   2.630 +the reality of mist and rain on his cheek. 
   2.631 +
   2.632 +Yet even when his eyes were opened on the mist and rain, on the mov- 
   2.633 +ing patch of light from the lamps, and the hedge at the roadside retreat- 
   2.634 +ing by jerks, the night shadows outside the coach would fall into the 
   2.635 +train of the night shadows within. The real Banking-house by Temple 
   2.636 +Bar, the real business of the past day, the real strong rooms, the real ex- 
   2.637 +press sent after him, and the real message returned, would all be there. 
   2.638 +Out of the midst of them, the ghostly face would rise, and he would ac- 
   2.639 +cost it again. 
   2.640 +
   2.641 +"Buried how long?" 
   2.642 +
   2.643 +"Almost eighteen years." 
   2.644 +
   2.645 +"I hope you care to live?" 
   2.646 +
   2.647 +"I can't say." 
   2.648 +
   2.649 +Dig - dig - dig - until an impatient movement from one of the two 
   2.650 +passengers would admonish him to pull up the window, draw his arm 
   2.651 +securely through the leathern strap, and speculate upon the two slum- 
   2.652 +bering forms, until his mind lost its hold of them, and they again slid 
   2.653 +away into the bank and the grave. 
   2.654 +
   2.655 +"Buried how long?" 
   2.656 +
   2.657 +"Almost eighteen years." 
   2.658 +
   2.659 +"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?" 
   2.660 +
   2.661 +"Long ago." 
   2.662 +
   2.663 +The words were still in his hearing as just spoken - distinctly in his 
   2.664 +hearing as ever spoken words had been in his life - when the weary pas- 
   2.665 +senger started to the consciousness of daylight, and found that the shad- 
   2.666 +ows of the night were gone. 
   2.667 +
   2.668 +He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There was a 
   2.669 +ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had been left last 
   2.670 +night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet coppice-wood, in 
   2.671 +which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still remained 
   2.672 +upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, 
   2.673 +and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful. 
   2.674 +
   2.675 +"Eighteen years!" said the passenger, looking at the sun. "Gracious 
   2.676 +Creator of day! To be buried alive for eighteen years!" 
   2.677 +
   2.678 +
   2.679 +
   2.680 +16 
   2.681 +
   2.682 +
   2.683 +
   2.684 +Chapter 
   2.685 +
   2.686 +
   2.687 +
   2.688 +4 
   2.689 +
   2.690 +
   2.691 +
   2.692 +The Preparation 
   2.693 +
   2.694 +When the mail got successfully to Dover, in the course of the forenoon, 
   2.695 +the head drawer at the Royal George Hotel opened the coach-door as his 
   2.696 +custom was. He did it with some flourish of ceremony, for a mail journey 
   2.697 +from London in winter was an achievement to congratulate an adventur- 
   2.698 +ous traveller upon. 
   2.699 +
   2.700 +By that time, there was only one adventurous traveller left be congrat- 
   2.701 +ulated: for the two others had been set down at their respective roadside 
   2.702 +destinations. The mildewy inside of the coach, with its damp and dirty 
   2.703 +straw, its disageeable smell, and its obscurity, was rather like a larger 
   2.704 +dog-kennel. Mr. Lorry, the passenger, shaking himself out of it in chains 
   2.705 +of straw, a tangle of shaggy wrapper, flapping hat, and muddy legs, was 
   2.706 +rather like a larger sort of dog. 
   2.707 +
   2.708 +'There will be a packet to Calais, tomorrow, drawer?" 
   2.709 +
   2.710 +"Yes, sir, if the weather holds and the wind sets tolerable fair. The tide 
   2.711 +will serve pretty nicely at about two in the afternoon, sir. Bed, sir?" 
   2.712 +
   2.713 +"I shall not go to bed till night; but I want a bedroom, and a barber." 
   2.714 +
   2.715 +"And then breakfast, sir? Yes, sir. That way, sir, if you please. Show 
   2.716 +Concord! Gentleman's valise and hot water to Concord. Pull off gentle- 
   2.717 +man's boots in Concord. (You will find a fine sea-coal fire, sir.) Fetch 
   2.718 +barber to Concord. Stir about there, now, for Concord!" 
   2.719 +
   2.720 +The Concord bed-chamber being always assigned to a passenger by 
   2.721 +the mail, and passengers by the mail being always heavily wrapped up 
   2.722 +from head to foot, the room had the odd interest for the establishment of 
   2.723 +the Royal George, that although but one kind of man was seen to go into 
   2.724 +it, all kinds and varieties of men came out of it. Consequently, another 
   2.725 +drawer, and two porters, and several maids and the landlady, were all 
   2.726 +loitering by accident at various points of the road between the Concord 
   2.727 +and the coffee-room, when a gentleman of sixty, formally dressed in a 
   2.728 +brown suit of clothes, pretty well worn, but very well kept, with large 
   2.729 +
   2.730 +
   2.731 +
   2.732 +17 
   2.733 +
   2.734 +
   2.735 +
   2.736 +square cuffs and large flaps to the pockets, passed along on his way to 
   2.737 +his breakfast. 
   2.738 +
   2.739 +The coffee-room had no other occupant, that forenoon, than the gentle- 
   2.740 +man in brown. His breakfast-table was drawn before the fire, and as he 
   2.741 +sat, with its light shining on him, waiting for the meal, he sat so still, that 
   2.742 +he might have been sitting for his portrait. 
   2.743 +
   2.744 +Very orderly and methodical he looked, with a hand on each knee, and 
   2.745 +a loud watch ticking a sonorous sermon under his flapped waist-coat, as 
   2.746 +though it pitted its gravity and longevity against the levity and evanes- 
   2.747 +cence of the brisk fire. He had a good leg, and was a little vain of it, for 
   2.748 +his brown stockings fitted sleek and close, and were of a fine texture; his 
   2.749 +shoes and buckles, too, though plain, were trim. He wore an odd little 
   2.750 +sleek crisp flaxen wig, setting very close to his head: which wig, it is to 
   2.751 +be presumed, was made of hair, but which looked far more as though it 
   2.752 +were spun from filaments of silk or glass. His linen, though not of a fine- 
   2.753 +ness in accordance with his stockings, was as white as the tops of the 
   2.754 +waves that broke upon the neighbouring beach, or the specks of sail that 
   2.755 +glinted in the sunlight far at sea. A face habitually suppressed and 
   2.756 +quieted, was still lighted up under the quaint wig by a pair of moist 
   2.757 +bright eyes that it must have cost their owner, in years gone by, some 
   2.758 +pains to drill to the composed and reserved expression of Tellson's Bank. 
   2.759 +He had a healthy colour in his cheeks, and his face, though lined, bore 
   2.760 +few traces of anxiety. But, perhaps the confidential bachelor clerks in 
   2.761 +Tellson's Bank were principally occupied with the cares of other people; 
   2.762 +and perhaps second-hand cares, like second-hand clothes, come easily 
   2.763 +off and on. 
   2.764 +
   2.765 +Completing his resemblance to a man who was sitting for his portrait, 
   2.766 +Mr. Lorry dropped off to sleep. The arrival of his breakfast roused him, 
   2.767 +and he said to the drawer, as he moved his chair to it: 
   2.768 +
   2.769 +"I wish accommodation prepared for a young lady who may come 
   2.770 +here at any time to-day. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or she may 
   2.771 +only ask for a gentleman from Tellson's Bank. Please to let me know." 
   2.772 +
   2.773 +"Yes, sir. Tellson's Bank in London, sir?" 
   2.774 +
   2.775 +"Yes." 
   2.776 +
   2.777 +"Yes, sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your gentlemen 
   2.778 +in their travelling backwards and forwards betwixt London and Paris, 
   2.779 +sir. A vast deal of travelling, sir, in Tellson and Company's House." 
   2.780 +
   2.781 +"Yes. We are quite a French House, as well as an English one." 
   2.782 +
   2.783 +
   2.784 +
   2.785 +18 
   2.786 +
   2.787 +
   2.788 +
   2.789 +"Yes, sir. Not much in the habit of such travelling yourself, I think, 
   2.790 +sir?" 
   2.791 +
   2.792 +"Not of late years. It is fifteen years since we - since I - came last from 
   2.793 +France." 
   2.794 +
   2.795 +"Indeed, sir? That was before my time here, sir. Before our people's 
   2.796 +time here, sir. The George was in other hands at that time, sir." 
   2.797 +
   2.798 +"I believe so." 
   2.799 +
   2.800 +"But I would hold a pretty wager, sir, that a House like Tellson and 
   2.801 +Company was flourishing, a matter of fifty, not to speak of fifteen years 
   2.802 +ago?" 
   2.803 +
   2.804 +"You might treble that, and say a hundred and fifty, yet not be far 
   2.805 +from the truth." 
   2.806 +
   2.807 +"Indeed, sir!" 
   2.808 +
   2.809 +Rounding his mouth and both his eyes, as he stepped backward from 
   2.810 +the table, the waiter shifted his napkin from his right arm to his left, 
   2.811 +dropped into a comfortable attitude, and stood surveying the guest 
   2.812 +while he ate and drank, as from an observatory or watchtower. Accord- 
   2.813 +ing to the immemorial usage of waiters in all ages. 
   2.814 +
   2.815 +When Mr. Lorry had finished his breakfast, he went out for a stroll on 
   2.816 +the beach. The little narrow, crooked town of Dover hid itself away from 
   2.817 +the beach, and ran its head into the chalk cliffs, like a marine ostrich. The 
   2.818 +beach was a desert of heaps of sea and stones tumbling wildly about, 
   2.819 +and the sea did what it liked, and what it liked was destruction. It 
   2.820 +thundered at the town, and thundered at the cliffs, and brought the coast 
   2.821 +down, madly. The air among the houses was of so strong a piscatory fla- 
   2.822 +vour that one might have supposed sick fish went up to be dipped in it, 
   2.823 +as sick people went down to be dipped in the sea. A little fishing was 
   2.824 +done in the port, and a quantity of strolling about by night, and looking 
   2.825 +seaward: particularly at those times when the tide made, and was near 
   2.826 +flood. Small tradesmen, who did no business whatever, sometimes unac- 
   2.827 +countably realised large fortunes, and it was remarkable that nobody in 
   2.828 +the neighbourhood could endure a lamplighter. 
   2.829 +
   2.830 +As the day declined into the afternoon, and the air, which had been at 
   2.831 +intervals clear enough to allow the French coast to be seen, became again 
   2.832 +charged with mist and vapour, Mr. Lorry's thoughts seemed to cloud 
   2.833 +too. When it was dark, and he sat before the coffee-room fire, awaiting 
   2.834 +his dinner as he had awaited his breakfast, his mind was busily digging, 
   2.835 +digging, digging, in the live red coals. 
   2.836 +
   2.837 +
   2.838 +
   2.839 +19 
   2.840 +
   2.841 +
   2.842 +
   2.843 +A bottle of good claret after dinner does a digger in the red coals no 
   2.844 +harm, otherwise than as it has a tendency to throw him out of work. Mr. 
   2.845 +Lorry had been idle a long time, and had just poured out his last glassful 
   2.846 +of wine with as complete an appearance of satisfaction as is ever to be 
   2.847 +found in an elderly gentleman of a fresh complexion who has got to the 
   2.848 +end of a bottle, when a rattling of wheels came up the narrow street, and 
   2.849 +rumbled into the inn-yard. 
   2.850 +
   2.851 +He set down his glass untouched. "This is Mam'selle!" said he. 
   2.852 +
   2.853 +In a very few minutes the waiter came in to announce that Miss 
   2.854 +Manette had arrived from London, and would be happy to see the gen- 
   2.855 +tleman from Tellson's. 
   2.856 +
   2.857 +"So soon?" 
   2.858 +
   2.859 +Miss Manette had taken some refreshment on the road, and required 
   2.860 +none then, and was extremely anxious to see the gentleman from Tell- 
   2.861 +son's immediately, if it suited his pleasure and convenience. 
   2.862 +
   2.863 +The gentleman from Tellson's had nothing left for it but to empty his 
   2.864 +glass with an air of stolid desperation, settle his odd little flaxen wig at 
   2.865 +the ears, and follow the waiter to Miss Manette's apartment. It was a 
   2.866 +large, dark room, furnished in a funereal manner with black horsehair, 
   2.867 +and loaded with heavy dark tables. These had been oiled and oiled, until 
   2.868 +the two tall candles on the table in the middle of the room were gloomily 
   2.869 +reflected on every leaf; as if they were buried, in deep graves of black 
   2.870 +mahogany, and no light to speak of could be expected from them until 
   2.871 +they were dug out. 
   2.872 +
   2.873 +The obscurity was so difficult to penetrate that Mr. Lorry, picking his 
   2.874 +way over the well-worn Turkey carpet, supposed Miss Manette to be, for 
   2.875 +the moment, in some adjacent room, until, having got past the two tall 
   2.876 +candles, he saw standing to receive him by the table between them and 
   2.877 +the fire, a young lady of not more than seventeen, in a riding-cloak, and 
   2.878 +still holding her straw travelling-hat by its ribbon in her hand. As his 
   2.879 +eyes rested on a short, slight, pretty figure, a quantity of golden hair, a 
   2.880 +pair of blue eyes that met his own with an inquiring look, and a forehead 
   2.881 +with a singular capacity (remembering how young and smooth it was), 
   2.882 +of rifting and knitting itself into an expression that was not quite one of 
   2.883 +perplexity, or wonder, or alarm, or merely of a bright fixed attention, 
   2.884 +though it included all the four expressions - as his eyes rested on these 
   2.885 +things, a sudden vivid likeness passed before him, of a child whom he 
   2.886 +had held in his arms on the passage across that very Channel, one cold 
   2.887 +time, when the hail drifted heavily and the sea ran high. The likeness 
   2.888 +
   2.889 +
   2.890 +
   2.891 +20 
   2.892 +
   2.893 +
   2.894 +
   2.895 +passed away, like a breath along the surface of the gaunt pier-glass be- 
   2.896 +hind her, on the frame of which, a hospital procession of negro cupids, 
   2.897 +several headless and all cripples, were offering black baskets of Dead Sea 
   2.898 +fruit to black divinities of the feminine gender - and he made his formal 
   2.899 +bow to Miss Manette. 
   2.900 +
   2.901 +"Pray take a seat, sir." In a very clear and pleasant young voice; a little 
   2.902 +foreign in its accent, but a very little indeed. 
   2.903 +
   2.904 +"I kiss your hand, miss," said Mr. Lorry, with the manners of an earli- 
   2.905 +er date, as he made his formal bow again, and took his seat. 
   2.906 +
   2.907 +"I received a letter from the Bank, sir, yesterday, informing me that 
   2.908 +some intelligence - or discovery - " 
   2.909 +
   2.910 +"The word is not material, miss; either word will do." 
   2.911 +
   2.912 +" - respecting the small property of my poor father, whom I never 
   2.913 +saw - so long dead - " 
   2.914 +
   2.915 +Mr. Lorry moved in his chair, and cast a troubled look towards the 
   2.916 +hospital procession of negro cupids. As if they had any help for anybody 
   2.917 +in their absurd baskets! 
   2.918 +
   2.919 +" - rendered it necessary that I should go to Paris, there to communic- 
   2.920 +ate with a gentleman of the Bank, so good as to be despatched to Paris 
   2.921 +for the purpose." 
   2.922 +
   2.923 +"Myself." 
   2.924 +
   2.925 +"As I was prepared to hear, sir." 
   2.926 +
   2.927 +She curtseyed to him (young ladies made curtseys in those days), with 
   2.928 +a pretty desire to convey to him that she felt how much older and wiser 
   2.929 +he was than she. He made her another bow. 
   2.930 +
   2.931 +"I replied to the Bank, sir, that as it was considered necessary, by those 
   2.932 +who know, and who are so kind as to advise me, that I should go to 
   2.933 +France, and that as I am an orphan and have no friend who could go 
   2.934 +with me, I should esteem it highly if I might be permitted to place my- 
   2.935 +self, during the journey, under that worthy gentleman's protection. The 
   2.936 +gentleman had left London, but I think a messenger was sent after him to 
   2.937 +beg the favour of his waiting for me here." 
   2.938 +
   2.939 +"I was happy," said Mr. Lorry, "to be entrusted with the charge. I shall 
   2.940 +be more happy to execute it." 
   2.941 +
   2.942 +"Sir, I thank you indeed. I thank you very gratefully. It was told me by 
   2.943 +the Bank that the gentleman would explain to me the details of the busi- 
   2.944 +ness, and that I must prepare myself to find them of a surprising nature. 
   2.945 +
   2.946 +
   2.947 +
   2.948 +21 
   2.949 +
   2.950 +
   2.951 +
   2.952 +I have done my best to prepare myself, and I naturally have a strong and 
   2.953 +eager interest to know what they are." 
   2.954 +
   2.955 +"Naturally," said Mr. Lorry. "Yes- I-" 
   2.956 +
   2.957 +After a pause, he added, again settling the crisp flaxen wig at the ears, 
   2.958 +"It is very difficult to begin." 
   2.959 +
   2.960 +He did not begin, but, in his indecision, met her glance. The young 
   2.961 +forehead lifted itself into that singular expression - but it was pretty and 
   2.962 +characteristic, besides being singular - and she raised her hand, as if with 
   2.963 +an involuntary action she caught at, or stayed some passing shadow. 
   2.964 +
   2.965 +"Are you quite a stranger to me, sir?" 
   2.966 +
   2.967 +"Am I not?" Mr. Lorry opened his hands, and extended them out- 
   2.968 +wards with an argumentative smile. 
   2.969 +
   2.970 +Between the eyebrows and just over the little feminine nose, the line of 
   2.971 +which was as delicate and fine as it was possible to be, the expression 
   2.972 +deepened itself as she took her seat thoughtfully in the chair by which 
   2.973 +she had hitherto remained standing. He watched her as she mused, and 
   2.974 +the moment she raised her eyes again, went on: 
   2.975 +
   2.976 +"In your adopted country, I presume, I cannot do better than address 
   2.977 +you as a young English lady, Miss Manette?" 
   2.978 +
   2.979 +"If you please, sir." 
   2.980 +
   2.981 +"Miss Manette, I am a man of business. I have a business charge to ac- 
   2.982 +quit myself of. In your reception of it, don't heed me any more than if I 
   2.983 +was a speaking machine-truly, I am not much else. I will, with your 
   2.984 +leave, relate to you, miss, the story of one of our customers." 
   2.985 +
   2.986 +"Story!" 
   2.987 +
   2.988 +He seemed wilfully to mistake the word she had repeated, when he 
   2.989 +added, in a hurry, "Yes, customers; in the banking business we usually 
   2.990 +call our connexion our customers. He was a French gentleman; a scientif- 
   2.991 +ic gentleman; a man of great acquirements - a Doctor." 
   2.992 +
   2.993 +"Not of Beauvais?" 
   2.994 +
   2.995 +"Why, yes, of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, the gen- 
   2.996 +tleman was of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, the gentle- 
   2.997 +man was of repute in Paris. I had the honour of knowing him there. Our 
   2.998 +relations were business relations, but confidential. I was at that time in 
   2.999 +our French House, and had been - oh! twenty years." 
  2.1000 +
  2.1001 +"At that time - I may ask, at what time, sir?" 
  2.1002 +
  2.1003 +
  2.1004 +
  2.1005 +22 
  2.1006 +
  2.1007 +
  2.1008 +
  2.1009 +"I speak, miss, of twenty years ago. He married - an English 
  2.1010 +lady - and I was one of the trustees. His affairs, like the affairs of many 
  2.1011 +other French gentlemen and French families, were entirely in Tellson's 
  2.1012 +hands. In a similar way I am, or I have been, trustee of one kind or other 
  2.1013 +for scores of our customers. These are mere business relations, miss; 
  2.1014 +there is no friendship in them, no particular interest, nothing like senti- 
  2.1015 +ment. I have passed from one to another, in the course of my business 
  2.1016 +life, just as I pass from one of our customers to another in the course of 
  2.1017 +my business day; in short, I have no feelings; I am a mere machine. To go 
  2.1018 +on-" 
  2.1019 +
  2.1020 +"But this is my father's story, sir; and I begin to think" - the curiously 
  2.1021 +roughened forehead was very intent upon him - "that when I was left an 
  2.1022 +orphan through my mother's surviving my father only two years, it was 
  2.1023 +you who brought me to England. I am almost sure it was you." 
  2.1024 +
  2.1025 +Mr. Lorry took the hesitating little hand that confidingly advanced to 
  2.1026 +take his, and he put it with some ceremony to his lips. He then conduc- 
  2.1027 +ted the young lady straightway to her chair again, and, holding the 
  2.1028 +chair-back with his left hand, and using his right by turns to rub his chin, 
  2.1029 +pull his wig at the ears, or point what he said, stood looking down into 
  2.1030 +her face while she sat looking up into his. 
  2.1031 +
  2.1032 +"Miss Manette, it WAS I. And you will see how truly I spoke of myself 
  2.1033 +just now, in saying I had no feelings, and that all the relations I hold with 
  2.1034 +my fellow-creatures are mere business relations, when you reflect that I 
  2.1035 +have never seen you since. No; you have been the ward of Tellson's 
  2.1036 +House since, and I have been busy with the other business of Tellson's 
  2.1037 +House since. Feelings! I have no time for them, no chance of them. I pass 
  2.1038 +my whole life, miss, in turning an immense pecuniary Mangle." 
  2.1039 +
  2.1040 +After this odd description of his daily routine of employment, Mr. 
  2.1041 +Lorry flattened his flaxen wig upon his head with both hands (which 
  2.1042 +was most unnecessary, for nothing could be flatter than its shining sur- 
  2.1043 +face was before), and resumed his former attitude. 
  2.1044 +
  2.1045 +"So far, miss (as you have remarked), this is the story of your regretted 
  2.1046 +father. Now comes the difference. If your father had not died when he 
  2.1047 +did - Don't be frightened! How you start!" 
  2.1048 +
  2.1049 +She did, indeed, start. And she caught his wrist with both her hands. 
  2.1050 +
  2.1051 +"Pray," said Mr. Lorry, in a soothing tone, bringing his left hand from 
  2.1052 +the back of the chair to lay it on the supplicatory fingers that clasped him 
  2.1053 +in so violent a tremble: "pray control your agitation - a matter of busi- 
  2.1054 +ness. As I was saying - " 
  2.1055 +
  2.1056 +
  2.1057 +
  2.1058 +23 
  2.1059 +
  2.1060 +
  2.1061 +
  2.1062 +Her look so discomposed him that he stopped, wandered, and began 
  2.1063 +anew: 
  2.1064 +
  2.1065 +"As I was saying; if Monsieur Manette had not died; if he had sud- 
  2.1066 +denly and silently disappeared; if he had been spirited away; if it had not 
  2.1067 +been difficult to guess to what dreadful place, though no art could trace 
  2.1068 +him; if he had an enemy in some compatriot who could exercise a priv- 
  2.1069 +ilege that I in my own time have known the boldest people afraid to 
  2.1070 +speak of in a whisper, across the water there; for instance, the privilege 
  2.1071 +of filling up blank forms for the consignment of any one to the oblivion 
  2.1072 +of a prison for any length of time; if his wife had implored the king, the 
  2.1073 +queen, the court, the clergy, for any tidings of him, and all quite in 
  2.1074 +vain; - then the history of your father would have been the history of this 
  2.1075 +unfortunate gentleman, the Doctor of Beauvais." 
  2.1076 +
  2.1077 +"I entreat you to tell me more, sir." 
  2.1078 +
  2.1079 +"I will. I am going to. You can bear it?" 
  2.1080 +
  2.1081 +"I can bear anything but the uncertainty you leave me in at this 
  2.1082 +moment." 
  2.1083 +
  2.1084 +"You speak collectedly, and you - are collected. That's good!" (Though 
  2.1085 +his manner was less satisfied than his words.) "A matter of business. 
  2.1086 +Regard it as a matter of business-business that must be done. Now if this 
  2.1087 +doctor's wife, though a lady of great courage and spirit, had suffered so 
  2.1088 +intensely from this cause before her little child was born - " 
  2.1089 +
  2.1090 +"The little child was a daughter, sir." 
  2.1091 +
  2.1092 +"A daughter. A-a-matter of business - don't be distressed. Miss, if the 
  2.1093 +poor lady had suffered so intensely before her little child was born, that 
  2.1094 +she came to the determination of sparing the poor child the inheritance 
  2.1095 +of any part of the agony she had known the pains of, by rearing her in 
  2.1096 +the belief that her father was dead - No, don't kneel! In Heaven's name 
  2.1097 +why should you kneel to me!" 
  2.1098 +
  2.1099 +"For the truth. O dear, good, compassionate sir, for the truth!" 
  2.1100 +
  2.1101 +"A-a matter of business. You confuse me, and how can I transact busi- 
  2.1102 +ness if I am confused? Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindly men- 
  2.1103 +tion now, for instance, what nine times ninepence are, or how many shil- 
  2.1104 +lings in twenty guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be so much 
  2.1105 +more at my ease about your state of mind." 
  2.1106 +
  2.1107 +Without directly answering to this appeal, she sat so still when he had 
  2.1108 +very gently raised her, and the hands that had not ceased to clasp his 
  2.1109 +
  2.1110 +
  2.1111 +
  2.1112 +24: 
  2.1113 +
  2.1114 +
  2.1115 +
  2.1116 +wrists were so much more steady than they had been, that she commu- 
  2.1117 +nicated some reassurance to Mr. Jarvis Lorry. 
  2.1118 +
  2.1119 +"That's right, that's right. Courage! Business! You have business be- 
  2.1120 +fore you; useful business. Miss Manette, your mother took this course 
  2.1121 +with you. And when she died - I believe broken-hearted - having never 
  2.1122 +slackened her unavailing search for your father, she left you, at two 
  2.1123 +years old, to grow to be blooming, beautiful, and happy, without the 
  2.1124 +dark cloud upon you of living in uncertainty whether your father soon 
  2.1125 +wore his heart out in prison, or wasted there through many lingering 
  2.1126 +years." 
  2.1127 +
  2.1128 +As he said the words he looked down, with an admiring pity, on the 
  2.1129 +flowing golden hair; as if he pictured to himself that it might have been 
  2.1130 +already tinged with grey. 
  2.1131 +
  2.1132 +"You know that your parents had no great possession, and that what 
  2.1133 +they had was secured to your mother and to you. There has been no new 
  2.1134 +discovery, of money, or of any other property; but - " 
  2.1135 +
  2.1136 +He felt his wrist held closer, and he stopped. The expression in the 
  2.1137 +forehead, which had so particularly attracted his notice, and which was 
  2.1138 +now immovable, had deepened into one of pain and horror. 
  2.1139 +
  2.1140 +"But he has been - been found. He is alive. Greatly changed, it is too 
  2.1141 +probable; almost a wreck, it is possible; though we will hope the best. 
  2.1142 +Still, alive. Your father has been taken to the house of an old servant in 
  2.1143 +Paris, and we are going there: I, to identify him if I can: you, to restore 
  2.1144 +him to life, love, duty, rest, comfort." 
  2.1145 +
  2.1146 +A shiver ran through her frame, and from it through his. She said, in a 
  2.1147 +low, distinct, awe-stricken voice, as if she were saying it in a dream, 
  2.1148 +
  2.1149 +"I am going to see his Ghost! It will be his Ghost - not him!" 
  2.1150 +
  2.1151 +Mr. Lorry quietly chafed the hands that held his arm. "There, there, 
  2.1152 +there! See now, see now! The best and the worst are known to you, now. 
  2.1153 +You are well on your way to the poor wronged gentleman, and, with a 
  2.1154 +fair sea voyage, and a fair land journey, you will be soon at his dear 
  2.1155 +side." 
  2.1156 +
  2.1157 +She repeated in the same tone, sunk to a whisper, "I have been free, I 
  2.1158 +have been happy, yet his Ghost has never haunted me!" 
  2.1159 +
  2.1160 +"Only one thing more," said Mr. Lorry, laying stress upon it as a 
  2.1161 +wholesome means of enforcing her attention: "he has been found under 
  2.1162 +another name; his own, long forgotten or long concealed. It would be 
  2.1163 +worse than useless now to inquire which; worse than useless to seek to 
  2.1164 +
  2.1165 +
  2.1166 +
  2.1167 +25 
  2.1168 +
  2.1169 +
  2.1170 +
  2.1171 +know whether he has been for years overlooked, or always designedly 
  2.1172 +held prisoner. It would be worse than useless now to make any inquiries, 
  2.1173 +because it would be dangerous. Better not to mention the subject, any- 
  2.1174 +where or in any way, and to remove him - for a while at all events - out 
  2.1175 +of France. Even I, safe as an Englishman, and even Tellson's, important 
  2.1176 +as they are to French credit, avoid all naming of the matter. I carry about 
  2.1177 +me, not a scrap of writing openly referring to it. This is a secret service 
  2.1178 +altogether. My credentials, entries, and memoranda, are all comprehen- 
  2.1179 +ded in the one line, 'Recalled to Life;' which may mean anything. But 
  2.1180 +what is the matter! She doesn't notice a word! Miss Manette!" 
  2.1181 +
  2.1182 +Perfectly still and silent, and not even fallen back in her chair, she sat 
  2.1183 +under his hand, utterly insensible; with her eyes open and fixed upon 
  2.1184 +him, and with that last expression looking as if it were carved or branded 
  2.1185 +into her forehead. So close was her hold upon his arm, that he feared to 
  2.1186 +detach himself lest he should hurt her; therefore he called out loudly for 
  2.1187 +assistance without moving. 
  2.1188 +
  2.1189 +A wild-looking woman, whom even in his agitation, Mr. Lorry ob- 
  2.1190 +served to be all of a red colour, and to have red hair, and to be dressed in 
  2.1191 +some extraordinary tight-fitting fashion, and to have on her head a most 
  2.1192 +wonderful bonnet like a Grenadier wooden measure, and good measure 
  2.1193 +too, or a great Stilton cheese, came running into the room in advance of 
  2.1194 +the inn servants, and soon settled the question of his detachment from 
  2.1195 +the poor young lady, by laying a brawny hand upon his chest, and send- 
  2.1196 +ing him flying back against the nearest wall. 
  2.1197 +
  2.1198 +("I really think this must be a man!" was Mr. Lorry's breathless reflex- 
  2.1199 +ion, simultaneously with his coming against the wall.) 
  2.1200 +
  2.1201 +"Why, look at you all!" bawled this figure, addressing the inn ser- 
  2.1202 +vants. "Why don't you go and fetch things, instead of standing there 
  2.1203 +staring at me? I am not so much to look at, am I? Why don't you go and 
  2.1204 +fetch things? I'll let you know, if you don't bring smelling-salts, cold wa- 
  2.1205 +ter, and vinegar, quick, I will." 
  2.1206 +
  2.1207 +There was an immediate dispersal for these restoratives, and she softly 
  2.1208 +laid the patient on a sofa, and tended her with great skill and gentleness: 
  2.1209 +calling her "my precious!" and "my bird!" and spreading her golden hair 
  2.1210 +aside over her shoulders with great pride and care. 
  2.1211 +
  2.1212 +"And you in brown!" she said, indignantly turning to Mr. Lorry; 
  2.1213 +"couldn't you tell her what you had to tell her, without frightening her to 
  2.1214 +death? Look at her, with her pretty pale face and her cold hands. Do you 
  2.1215 +call that being a Banker?" 
  2.1216 +
  2.1217 +
  2.1218 +
  2.1219 +26 
  2.1220 +
  2.1221 +
  2.1222 +
  2.1223 +Mr. Lorry was so exceedingly disconcerted by a question so hard to 
  2.1224 +answer, that he could only look on, at a distance, with much feebler sym- 
  2.1225 +pathy and humility, while the strong woman, having banished the inn 
  2.1226 +servants under the mysterious penalty of "letting them know" 
  2.1227 +something not mentioned if they stayed there, staring, recovered her 
  2.1228 +charge by a regular series of gradations, and coaxed her to lay her droop- 
  2.1229 +ing head upon her shoulder. 
  2.1230 +
  2.1231 +"I hope she will do well now," said Mr. Lorry. 
  2.1232 +
  2.1233 +"No thanks to you in brown, if she does. My darling pretty!" 
  2.1234 +
  2.1235 +"I hope," said Mr. Lorry, after another pause of feeble sympathy and 
  2.1236 +humility, "that you accompany Miss Manette to France?" 
  2.1237 +
  2.1238 +"A likely thing, too!" replied the strong woman. "If it was ever inten- 
  2.1239 +ded that I should go across salt water, do you suppose Providence 
  2.1240 +would have cast my lot in an island?" 
  2.1241 +
  2.1242 +This being another question hard to answer, Mr. Jarvis Lorry with- 
  2.1243 +drew to consider it. 
  2.1244 +
  2.1245 +
  2.1246 +
  2.1247 +27 
  2.1248 +
  2.1249 +
  2.1250 +
  2.1251 +Chapter 
  2.1252 +
  2.1253 +
  2.1254 +
  2.1255 +5 
  2.1256 +
  2.1257 +
  2.1258 +
  2.1259 +The Wine-shop 
  2.1260 +
  2.1261 +A large cask of wine had been dropped and broken, in the street. The 
  2.1262 +accident had happened in getting it out of a cart; the cask had tumbled 
  2.1263 +out with a run, the hoops had burst, and it lay on the stones just outside 
  2.1264 +the door of the wine-shop, shattered like a walnut-shell. 
  2.1265 +
  2.1266 +All the people within reach had suspended their business, or their 
  2.1267 +idleness, to run to the spot and drink the wine. The rough, irregular 
  2.1268 +stones of the street, pointing every way, and designed, one might have 
  2.1269 +thought, expressly to lame all living creatures that approached them, had 
  2.1270 +dammed it into little pools; these were surrounded, each by its own jost- 
  2.1271 +ling group or crowd, according to its size. Some men kneeled down, 
  2.1272 +made scoops of their two hands joined, and sipped, or tried to help wo- 
  2.1273 +men, who bent over their shoulders, to sip, before the wine had all run 
  2.1274 +out between their fingers. Others, men and women, dipped in the 
  2.1275 +puddles with little mugs of mutilated earthenware, or even with 
  2.1276 +handkerchiefs from women's heads, which were squeezed dry into in- 
  2.1277 +fants' mouths; others made small mud-embankments, to stem the wine 
  2.1278 +as it ran; others, directed by lookers-on up at high windows, darted here 
  2.1279 +and there, to cut off little streams of wine that started away in new direc- 
  2.1280 +tions; others devoted themselves to the sodden and lee-dyed pieces of 
  2.1281 +the cask, licking, and even champing the moister wine-rotted fragments 
  2.1282 +with eager relish. There was no drainage to carry off the wine, and not 
  2.1283 +only did it all get taken up, but so much mud got taken up along with it, 
  2.1284 +that there might have been a scavenger in the street, if anybody acquain- 
  2.1285 +ted with it could have believed in such a miraculous presence. 
  2.1286 +
  2.1287 +A shrill sound of laughter and of amused voices - voices of men, wo- 
  2.1288 +men, and children - resounded in the street while this wine game lasted. 
  2.1289 +There was little roughness in the sport, and much playfulness. There was 
  2.1290 +a special companionship in it, an observable inclination on the part of 
  2.1291 +every one to join some other one, which led, especially among the luckier 
  2.1292 +or lighter-hearted, to frolicsome embraces, drinking of healths, shaking 
  2.1293 +
  2.1294 +
  2.1295 +
  2.1296 +28 
  2.1297 +
  2.1298 +
  2.1299 +
  2.1300 +of hands, and even joining of hands and dancing, a dozen together. 
  2.1301 +When the wine was gone, and the places where it had been most abund- 
  2.1302 +ant were raked into a gridiron-pattern by fingers, these demonstrations 
  2.1303 +ceased, as suddenly as they had broken out. The man who had left his 
  2.1304 +saw sticking in the firewood he was cutting, set it in motion again; the 
  2.1305 +women who had left on a door-step the little pot of hot ashes, at which 
  2.1306 +she had been trying to soften the pain in her own starved fingers and 
  2.1307 +toes, or in those of her child, returned to it; men with bare arms, matted 
  2.1308 +locks, and cadaverous faces, who had emerged into the winter light from 
  2.1309 +cellars, moved away, to descend again; and a gloom gathered on the 
  2.1310 +scene that appeared more natural to it than sunshine. 
  2.1311 +
  2.1312 +The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow 
  2.1313 +street in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled. It had 
  2.1314 +stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and 
  2.1315 +many wooden shoes. The hands of the man who sawed the wood, left 
  2.1316 +red marks on the billets; and the forehead of the woman who nursed her 
  2.1317 +baby, was stained with the stain of the old rag she wound about her 
  2.1318 +head again. Those who had been greedy with the staves of the cask, had 
  2.1319 +acquired a tigerish smear about the mouth; and one tall joker so be- 
  2.1320 +smirched, his head more out of a long squalid bag of a nightcap than in 
  2.1321 +it, scrawled upon a wall with his finger dipped in muddy wine- 
  2.1322 +lees- BLOOD. 
  2.1323 +
  2.1324 +The time was to come, when that wine too would be spilled on the 
  2.1325 +street-stones, and when the stain of it would be red upon many there. 
  2.1326 +
  2.1327 +And now that the cloud settled on Saint Antoine, which a momentary 
  2.1328 +gleam had driven from his sacred countenance, the darkness of it was 
  2.1329 +heavy-cold, dirt, sickness, ignorance, and want, were the lords in waiting 
  2.1330 +on the saintly presence-nobles of great power all of them; but, most espe- 
  2.1331 +cially the last. Samples of a people that had undergone a terrible grind- 
  2.1332 +ing and regrinding in the mill, and certainly not in the fabulous mill 
  2.1333 +which ground old people young, shivered at every corner, passed in and 
  2.1334 +out at every doorway, looked from every window, fluttered in every 
  2.1335 +vestige of a garment that the wind shook. The mill which had worked 
  2.1336 +them down, was the mill that grinds young people old; the children had 
  2.1337 +ancient faces and grave voices; and upon them, and upon the grown 
  2.1338 +faces, and ploughed into every furrow of age and coming up afresh, was 
  2.1339 +the sigh, Hunger. It was prevalent everywhere. Hunger was pushed out 
  2.1340 +of the tall houses, in the wretched clothing that hung upon poles and 
  2.1341 +lines; Hunger was patched into them with straw and rag and wood and 
  2.1342 +paper; Hunger was repeated in every fragment of the small modicum of 
  2.1343 +
  2.1344 +
  2.1345 +
  2.1346 +29 
  2.1347 +
  2.1348 +
  2.1349 +
  2.1350 +firewood that the man sawed off; Hunger stared down from the smoke- 
  2.1351 +less chimneys, and started up from the filthy street that had no offal, 
  2.1352 +among its refuse, of anything to eat. Hunger was the inscription on the 
  2.1353 +baker's shelves, written in every small loaf of his scanty stock of bad 
  2.1354 +bread; at the sausage-shop, in every dead-dog preparation that was 
  2.1355 +offered for sale. Hunger rattled its dry bones among the roasting chest- 
  2.1356 +nuts in the turned cylinder; Hunger was shred into atomics in every 
  2.1357 +farthing porringer of husky chips of potato, fried with some reluctant 
  2.1358 +drops of oil. 
  2.1359 +
  2.1360 +Its abiding place was in all things fitted to it. A narrow winding street, 
  2.1361 +full of offence and stench, with other narrow winding streets diverging, 
  2.1362 +all peopled by rags and nightcaps, and all smelling of rags and night- 
  2.1363 +caps, and all visible things with a brooding look upon them that looked 
  2.1364 +ill. In the hunted air of the people there was yet some wild-beast thought 
  2.1365 +of the possibility of turning at bay. Depressed and slinking though they 
  2.1366 +were, eyes of fire were not wanting among them; nor compressed lips, 
  2.1367 +white with what they suppressed; nor foreheads knitted into the likeness 
  2.1368 +of the gallows-rope they mused about enduring, or inflicting. The trade 
  2.1369 +signs (and they were almost as many as the shops) were, all, grim illus- 
  2.1370 +trations of Want. The butcher and the porkman painted up, only the 
  2.1371 +leanest scrags of meat; the baker, the coarsest of meagre loaves. The 
  2.1372 +people rudely pictured as drinking in the wine-shops, croaked over their 
  2.1373 +scanty measures of thin wine and beer, and were gloweringly confiden- 
  2.1374 +tial together. Nothing was represented in a flourishing condition, save 
  2.1375 +tools and weapons; but, the cutler's knives and axes were sharp and 
  2.1376 +bright, the smith's hammers were heavy, and the gunmaker's stock was 
  2.1377 +murderous. The crippling stones of the pavement, with their many little 
  2.1378 +reservoirs of mud and water, had no footways, but broke off abruptly at 
  2.1379 +the doors. The kennel, to make amends, ran down the middle of the 
  2.1380 +street - when it ran at all: which was only after heavy rains, and then it 
  2.1381 +ran, by many eccentric fits, into the houses. Across the streets, at wide in- 
  2.1382 +tervals, one clumsy lamp was slung by a rope and pulley; at night, when 
  2.1383 +the lamplighter had let these down, and lighted, and hoisted them again, 
  2.1384 +a feeble grove of dim wicks swung in a sickly manner overhead, as if 
  2.1385 +they were at sea. Indeed they were at sea, and the ship and crew were in 
  2.1386 +peril of tempest. 
  2.1387 +
  2.1388 +For, the time was to come, when the gaunt scarecrows of that region 
  2.1389 +should have watched the lamplighter, in their idleness and hunger, so 
  2.1390 +long, as to conceive the idea of improving on his method, and hauling up 
  2.1391 +men by those ropes and pulleys, to flare upon the darkness of their 
  2.1392 +
  2.1393 +
  2.1394 +
  2.1395 +30 
  2.1396 +
  2.1397 +
  2.1398 +
  2.1399 +condition. But, the time was not come yet; and every wind that blew 
  2.1400 +over France shook the rags of the scarecrows in vain, for the birds, fine of 
  2.1401 +song and feather, took no warning. 
  2.1402 +
  2.1403 +The wine-shop was a corner shop, better than most others in its ap- 
  2.1404 +pearance and degree, and the master of the wine-shop had stood outside 
  2.1405 +it, in a yellow waistcoat and green breeches, looking on at the struggle 
  2.1406 +for the lost wine. "It's not my affair," said he, with a final shrug of the 
  2.1407 +shoulders. "The people from the market did it. Let them bring another." 
  2.1408 +
  2.1409 +There, his eyes happening to catch the tall joker writing up his joke, he 
  2.1410 +called to him across the way: 
  2.1411 +
  2.1412 +"Say, then, my Gaspard, what do you do there?" 
  2.1413 +
  2.1414 +The fellow pointed to his joke with immense significance, as is often 
  2.1415 +the way with his tribe. It missed its mark, and completely failed, as is of- 
  2.1416 +ten the way with his tribe too. 
  2.1417 +
  2.1418 +"What now? Are you a subject for the mad hospital?" said the wine- 
  2.1419 +shop keeper, crossing the road, and obliterating the jest with a handful of 
  2.1420 +mud, picked up for the purpose, and smeared over it. "Why do you 
  2.1421 +write in the public streets? Is there - tell me thou - is there no other place 
  2.1422 +to write such words in?" 
  2.1423 +
  2.1424 +In his expostulation he dropped his cleaner hand (perhaps accident- 
  2.1425 +ally, perhaps not) upon the joker's heart. The joker rapped it with his 
  2.1426 +own, took a nimble spring upward, and came down in a fantastic dan- 
  2.1427 +cing attitude, with one of his stained shoes jerked off his foot into his 
  2.1428 +hand, and held out. A joker of an extremely, not to say wolfishly practic- 
  2.1429 +al character, he looked, under those circumstances. 
  2.1430 +
  2.1431 +"Put it on, put it on," said the other. "Call wine, wine; and finish 
  2.1432 +there." With that advice, he wiped his soiled hand upon the joker's dress, 
  2.1433 +such as it was - quite deliberately, as having dirtied the hand on his ac- 
  2.1434 +count; and then recrossed the road and entered the wine-shop. 
  2.1435 +
  2.1436 +This wine-shop keeper was a bull-necked, martial-looking man of 
  2.1437 +thirty, and he should have been of a hot temperament, for, although it 
  2.1438 +was a bitter day, he wore no coat, but carried one slung over his 
  2.1439 +shoulder. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up, too, and his brown arms were 
  2.1440 +bare to the elbows. Neither did he wear anything more on his head than 
  2.1441 +his own crisply-curling short dark hair. He was a dark man altogether, 
  2.1442 +with good eyes and a good bold breadth between them. Good-humoured 
  2.1443 +looking on the whole, but implacable-looking, too; evidently a man of a 
  2.1444 +strong resolution and a set purpose; a man not desirable to be met, 
  2.1445 +
  2.1446 +
  2.1447 +
  2.1448 +31 
  2.1449 +
  2.1450 +
  2.1451 +
  2.1452 +rushing down a narrow pass with a gulf on either side, for nothing 
  2.1453 +would turn the man. 
  2.1454 +
  2.1455 +Madame Defarge, his wife, sat in the shop behind the counter as he 
  2.1456 +came in. Madame Defarge was a stout woman of about his own age, 
  2.1457 +with a watchful eye that seldom seemed to look at anything, a large hand 
  2.1458 +heavily ringed, a steady face, strong features, and great composure of 
  2.1459 +manner. There was a character about Madame Defarge, from which one 
  2.1460 +might have predicated that she did not often make mistakes against her- 
  2.1461 +self in any of the reckonings over which she presided. Madame Defarge 
  2.1462 +being sensitive to cold, was wrapped in fur, and had a quantity of bright 
  2.1463 +shawl twined about her head, though not to the concealment of her large 
  2.1464 +earrings. Her knitting was before her, but she had laid it down to pick 
  2.1465 +her teeth with a toothpick. Thus engaged, with her right elbow suppor- 
  2.1466 +ted by her left hand, Madame Defarge said nothing when her lord came 
  2.1467 +in, but coughed just one grain of cough. This, in combination with the 
  2.1468 +lifting of her darkly defined eyebrows over her toothpick by the breadth 
  2.1469 +of a line, suggested to her husband that he would do well to look round 
  2.1470 +the shop among the customers, for any new customer who had dropped 
  2.1471 +in while he stepped over the way. 
  2.1472 +
  2.1473 +The wine-shop keeper accordingly rolled his eyes about, until they res- 
  2.1474 +ted upon an elderly gentleman and a young lady, who were seated in a 
  2.1475 +corner. Other company were there: two playing cards, two playing dom- 
  2.1476 +inoes, three standing by the counter lengthening out a short supply of 
  2.1477 +wine. As he passed behind the counter, he took notice that the elderly 
  2.1478 +gentleman said in a look to the young lady, "This is our man." 
  2.1479 +
  2.1480 +"What the devil do YOU do in that galley there?" said Monsieur De- 
  2.1481 +farge to himself; "I don't know you." 
  2.1482 +
  2.1483 +But, he feigned not to notice the two strangers, and fell into discourse 
  2.1484 +with the triumvirate of customers who were drinking at the counter. 
  2.1485 +
  2.1486 +"How goes it, Jacques?" said one of these three to Monsieur Defarge. 
  2.1487 +"Is all the spilt wine swallowed?" 
  2.1488 +
  2.1489 +"Every drop, Jacques," answered Monsieur Defarge. 
  2.1490 +
  2.1491 +When this interchange of Christian name was effected, Madame De- 
  2.1492 +farge, picking her teeth with her toothpick, coughed another grain of 
  2.1493 +cough, and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line. 
  2.1494 +
  2.1495 +"It is not often," said the second of the three, addressing Monsieur De- 
  2.1496 +farge, "that many of these miserable beasts know the taste of wine, or of 
  2.1497 +anything but black bread and death. Is it not so, Jacques?" 
  2.1498 +
  2.1499 +
  2.1500 +
  2.1501 +32 
  2.1502 +
  2.1503 +
  2.1504 +
  2.1505 +"It is so, Jacques/' Monsieur Defarge returned. 
  2.1506 +
  2.1507 +At this second interchange of the Christian name, Madame Defarge, 
  2.1508 +still using her toothpick with profound composure, coughed another 
  2.1509 +grain of cough, and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line. 
  2.1510 +
  2.1511 +The last of the three now said his say, as he put down his empty drink- 
  2.1512 +ing vessel and smacked his lips. 
  2.1513 +
  2.1514 +"Ah! So much the worse! A bitter taste it is that such poor cattle al- 
  2.1515 +ways have in their mouths, and hard lives they live, Jacques. Am I right, 
  2.1516 +Jacques?" 
  2.1517 +
  2.1518 +"You are right, Jacques," was the response of Monsieur Defarge. 
  2.1519 +
  2.1520 +This third interchange of the Christian name was completed at the mo- 
  2.1521 +ment when Madame Defarge put her toothpick by, kept her eyebrows 
  2.1522 +up, and slightly rustled in her seat. 
  2.1523 +
  2.1524 +"Hold then! True!" muttered her husband. "Gentlemen - my wife!" 
  2.1525 +
  2.1526 +The three customers pulled off their hats to Madame Defarge, with 
  2.1527 +three flourishes. She acknowledged their homage by bending her head, 
  2.1528 +and giving them a quick look. Then she glanced in a casual manner 
  2.1529 +round the wine-shop, took up her knitting with great apparent calmness 
  2.1530 +and repose of spirit, and became absorbed in it. 
  2.1531 +
  2.1532 +"Gentlemen," said her husband, who had kept his bright eye observ- 
  2.1533 +antly upon her, "good day. The chamber, furnished bachelor-fashion, 
  2.1534 +that you wished to see, and were inquiring for when I stepped out, is on 
  2.1535 +the fifth floor. The doorway of the staircase gives on the little courtyard 
  2.1536 +close to the left here," pointing with his hand, "near to the window of 
  2.1537 +my establishment. But, now that I remember, one of you has already 
  2.1538 +been there, and can show the way. Gentlemen, adieu!" 
  2.1539 +
  2.1540 +They paid for their wine, and left the place. The eyes of Monsieur De- 
  2.1541 +farge were studying his wife at her knitting when the elderly gentleman 
  2.1542 +advanced from his corner, and begged the favour of a word. 
  2.1543 +
  2.1544 +"Willingly, sir," said Monsieur Defarge, and quietly stepped with him 
  2.1545 +to the door. 
  2.1546 +
  2.1547 +Their conference was very short, but very decided. Almost at the first 
  2.1548 +word, Monsieur Defarge started and became deeply attentive. It had not 
  2.1549 +lasted a minute, when he nodded and went out. The gentleman then 
  2.1550 +beckoned to the young lady, and they, too, went out. Madame Defarge 
  2.1551 +knitted with nimble fingers and steady eyebrows, and saw nothing. 
  2.1552 +
  2.1553 +
  2.1554 +
  2.1555 +33 
  2.1556 +
  2.1557 +
  2.1558 +
  2.1559 +Mr. Jarvis Lorry and Miss Manette, emerging from the wine-shop thus, 
  2.1560 +joined Monsieur Defarge in the doorway to which he had directed his 
  2.1561 +own company just before. It opened from a stinking little black court- 
  2.1562 +yard, and was the general public entrance to a great pile of houses, in- 
  2.1563 +habited by a great number of people. In the gloomy tile-paved entry to 
  2.1564 +the gloomy tile-paved staircase, Monsieur Defarge bent down on one 
  2.1565 +knee to the child of his old master, and put her hand to his lips. It was a 
  2.1566 +gentle action, but not at all gently done; a very remarkable transforma- 
  2.1567 +tion had come over him in a few seconds. He had no good-humour in his 
  2.1568 +face, nor any openness of aspect left, but had become a secret, angry, 
  2.1569 +dangerous man. 
  2.1570 +
  2.1571 +"It is very high; it is a little difficult. Better to begin slowly." Thus, 
  2.1572 +Monsieur Defarge, in a stern voice, to Mr. Lorry, as they began ascend- 
  2.1573 +ing the stairs. 
  2.1574 +
  2.1575 +"Is he alone?" the latter whispered. 
  2.1576 +
  2.1577 +"Alone! God help him, who should be with him!" said the other, in the 
  2.1578 +same low voice. 
  2.1579 +
  2.1580 +"Is he always alone, then?" 
  2.1581 +
  2.1582 +"Yes." 
  2.1583 +
  2.1584 +"Of his own desire?" 
  2.1585 +
  2.1586 +"Of his own necessity. As he was, when I first saw him after they 
  2.1587 +found me and demanded to know if I would take him, and, at my peril 
  2.1588 +be discreet - as he was then, so he is now." 
  2.1589 +
  2.1590 +"He is greatly changed?" 
  2.1591 +
  2.1592 +"Changed!" 
  2.1593 +
  2.1594 +The keeper of the wine-shop stopped to strike the wall with his hand, 
  2.1595 +and mutter a tremendous curse. No direct answer could have been half 
  2.1596 +so forcible. Mr. Lorry's spirits grew heavier and heavier, as he and his 
  2.1597 +two companions ascended higher and higher. 
  2.1598 +
  2.1599 +Such a staircase, with its accessories, in the older and more crowded 
  2.1600 +parts of Paris, would be bad enough now; but, at that time, it was vile in- 
  2.1601 +deed to unaccustomed and unhardened senses. Every little habitation 
  2.1602 +within the great foul nest of one high building - that is to say, the room 
  2.1603 +or rooms within every door that opened on the general staircase - left its 
  2.1604 +own heap of refuse on its own landing, besides flinging other refuse 
  2.1605 +from its own windows. The uncontrollable and hopeless mass of decom- 
  2.1606 +position so engendered, would have polluted the air, even if poverty and 
  2.1607 +deprivation had not loaded it with their intangible impurities; the two 
  2.1608 +
  2.1609 +
  2.1610 +
  2.1611 +34 
  2.1612 +
  2.1613 +
  2.1614 +
  2.1615 +bad sources combined made it almost insupportable. Through such an 
  2.1616 +atmosphere, by a steep dark shaft of dirt and poison, the way lay. Yield- 
  2.1617 +ing to his own disturbance of mind, and to his young companion's agita- 
  2.1618 +tion, which became greater every instant, Mr. Jarvis Lorry twice stopped 
  2.1619 +to rest. Each of these stoppages was made at a doleful grating, by which 
  2.1620 +any languishing good airs that were left uncorrupted, seemed to escape, 
  2.1621 +and all spoilt and sickly vapours seemed to crawl in. Through the rusted 
  2.1622 +bars, tastes, rather than glimpses, were caught of the jumbled neighbour- 
  2.1623 +hood; and nothing within range, nearer or lower than the summits of the 
  2.1624 +two great towers of Notre-Dame, had any promise on it of healthy life or 
  2.1625 +wholesome aspirations. 
  2.1626 +
  2.1627 +At last, the top of the staircase was gained, and they stopped for the 
  2.1628 +third time. There was yet an upper staircase, of a steeper inclination and 
  2.1629 +of contracted dimensions, to be ascended, before the garret story was 
  2.1630 +reached. The keeper of the wine-shop, always going a little in advance, 
  2.1631 +and always going on the side which Mr. Lorry took, as though he 
  2.1632 +dreaded to be asked any question by the young lady, turned himself 
  2.1633 +about here, and, carefully feeling in the pockets of the coat he carried 
  2.1634 +over his shoulder, took out a key. 
  2.1635 +
  2.1636 +"The door is locked then, my friend?" said Mr. Lorry, surprised. 
  2.1637 +
  2.1638 +"Ay. Yes," was the grim reply of Monsieur Defarge. 
  2.1639 +
  2.1640 +"You think it necessary to keep the unfortunate gentleman so retired?" 
  2.1641 +
  2.1642 +"I think it necessary to turn the key." Monsieur Defarge whispered it 
  2.1643 +closer in his ear, and frowned heavily. 
  2.1644 +
  2.1645 +"Why?" 
  2.1646 +
  2.1647 +"Why! Because he has lived so long, locked up, that he would be 
  2.1648 +frightened - rave - tear himself to pieces - d-ie-come to I know not what 
  2.1649 +harm - if his door was left open." 
  2.1650 +
  2.1651 +"Is it possible!" exclaimed Mr. Lorry. 
  2.1652 +
  2.1653 +"Is it possible!" repeated Defarge, bitterly. "Yes. And a beautiful world 
  2.1654 +we live in, when it IS possible, and when many other such things are 
  2.1655 +possible, and not only possible, but done - done, see you! - under that 
  2.1656 +sky there, every day. Long live the Devil. Let us go on." 
  2.1657 +
  2.1658 +This dialogue had been held in so very low a whisper, that not a word 
  2.1659 +of it had reached the young lady's ears. But, by this time she trembled 
  2.1660 +under such strong emotion, and her face expressed such deep anxiety, 
  2.1661 +and, above all, such dread and terror, that Mr. Lorry felt it incumbent on 
  2.1662 +him to speak a word or two of reassurance. 
  2.1663 +
  2.1664 +
  2.1665 +
  2.1666 +35 
  2.1667 +
  2.1668 +
  2.1669 +
  2.1670 +"Courage, dear miss! Courage! Business! The worst will be over in a 
  2.1671 +moment; it is but passing the room-door, and the worst is over. Then, all 
  2.1672 +the good you bring to him, all the relief, all the happiness you bring to 
  2.1673 +him, begin. Let our good friend here, assist you on that side. That's well, 
  2.1674 +friend Defarge. Come, now. Business, business!" 
  2.1675 +
  2.1676 +They went up slowly and softly. The staircase was short, and they 
  2.1677 +were soon at the top. There, as it had an abrupt turn in it, they came all at 
  2.1678 +once in sight of three men, whose heads were bent down close together 
  2.1679 +at the side of a door, and who were intently looking into the room to 
  2.1680 +which the door belonged, through some chinks or holes in the wall. On 
  2.1681 +hearing footsteps close at hand, these three turned, and rose, and 
  2.1682 +showed themselves to be the three of one name who had been drinking 
  2.1683 +in the wine-shop. 
  2.1684 +
  2.1685 +"I forgot them in the surprise of your visit," explained Monsieur De- 
  2.1686 +farge. "Leave us, good boys; we have business here." 
  2.1687 +
  2.1688 +The three glided by, and went silently down. 
  2.1689 +
  2.1690 +There appearing to be no other door on that floor, and the keeper of 
  2.1691 +the wine-shop going straight to this one when they were left alone, Mr. 
  2.1692 +Lorry asked him in a whisper, with a little anger: 
  2.1693 +
  2.1694 +"Do you make a show of Monsieur Manette?" 
  2.1695 +
  2.1696 +"I show him, in the way you have seen, to a chosen few." 
  2.1697 +
  2.1698 +"Is that well?" 
  2.1699 +
  2.1700 +"I think it is well." 
  2.1701 +
  2.1702 +"Who are the few? How do you choose them?" 
  2.1703 +
  2.1704 +"I choose them as real men, of my name - Jacques is my name - to 
  2.1705 +whom the sight is likely to do good. Enough; you are English; that is an- 
  2.1706 +other thing. Stay there, if you please, a little moment." 
  2.1707 +
  2.1708 +With an admonitory gesture to keep them back, he stooped, and 
  2.1709 +looked in through the crevice in the wall. Soon raising his head again, he 
  2.1710 +struck twice or thrice upon the door - evidently with no other object than 
  2.1711 +to make a noise there. With the same intention, he drew the key across it, 
  2.1712 +three or four times, before he put it clumsily into the lock, and turned it 
  2.1713 +as heavily as he could. 
  2.1714 +
  2.1715 +The door slowly opened inward under his hand, and he looked into 
  2.1716 +the room and said something. A faint voice answered something. Little 
  2.1717 +more than a single syllable could have been spoken on either side. 
  2.1718 +
  2.1719 +
  2.1720 +
  2.1721 +36 
  2.1722 +
  2.1723 +
  2.1724 +
  2.1725 +He looked back over his shoulder, and beckoned them to enter. Mr. 
  2.1726 +Lorry got his arm securely round the daughter's waist, and held her; for 
  2.1727 +he felt that she was sinking. 
  2.1728 +
  2.1729 +"A - a - a - business, business!" he urged, with a moisture that was 
  2.1730 +not of business shining on his cheek. "Come in, come in!" 
  2.1731 +
  2.1732 +"I am afraid of it," she answered, shuddering. 
  2.1733 +
  2.1734 +"Of it? What?" 
  2.1735 +
  2.1736 +"I mean of him. Of my father." 
  2.1737 +
  2.1738 +Rendered in a manner desperate, by her state and by the beckoning of 
  2.1739 +their conductor, he drew over his neck the arm that shook upon his 
  2.1740 +shoulder, lifted her a little, and hurried her into the room. He sat her 
  2.1741 +down just within the door, and held her, clinging to him. 
  2.1742 +
  2.1743 +Defarge drew out the key, closed the door, locked it on the inside, took 
  2.1744 +out the key again, and held it in his hand. All this he did, methodically, 
  2.1745 +and with as loud and harsh an accompaniment of noise as he could 
  2.1746 +make. Finally, he walked across the room with a measured tread to 
  2.1747 +where the window was. He stopped there, and faced round. 
  2.1748 +
  2.1749 +The garret, built to be a depository for firewood and the like, was dim 
  2.1750 +and dark: for, the window of dormer shape, was in truth a door in the 
  2.1751 +roof, with a little crane over it for the hoisting up of stores from the 
  2.1752 +street: unglazed, and closing up the middle in two pieces, like any other 
  2.1753 +door of French construction. To exclude the cold, one half of this door 
  2.1754 +was fast closed, and the other was opened but a very little way. Such a 
  2.1755 +scanty portion of light was admitted through these means, that it was 
  2.1756 +difficult, on first coming in, to see anything; and long habit alone could 
  2.1757 +have slowly formed in any one, the ability to do any work requiring 
  2.1758 +nicety in such obscurity. Yet, work of that kind was being done in the 
  2.1759 +garret; for, with his back towards the door, and his face towards the win- 
  2.1760 +dow where the keeper of the wine-shop stood looking at him, a white- 
  2.1761 +haired man sat on a low bench, stooping forward and very busy, making 
  2.1762 +shoes. 
  2.1763 +
  2.1764 +
  2.1765 +
  2.1766 +37 
  2.1767 +
  2.1768 +
  2.1769 +
  2.1770 +Chapter 
  2.1771 +
  2.1772 +
  2.1773 +
  2.1774 +6 
  2.1775 +
  2.1776 +
  2.1777 +
  2.1778 +The Shoemaker 
  2.1779 +
  2.1780 +"Good day!" said Monsieur Defarge, looking down at the white head 
  2.1781 +that bent low over the shoemaking. 
  2.1782 +
  2.1783 +It was raised for a moment, and a very faint voice responded to the sa- 
  2.1784 +lutation, as if it were at a distance: 
  2.1785 +
  2.1786 +"Good day!" 
  2.1787 +
  2.1788 +"You are still hard at work, I see?" 
  2.1789 +
  2.1790 +After a long silence, the head was lifted for another moment, and the 
  2.1791 +voice replied, "Yes - I am working." This time, a pair of haggard eyes 
  2.1792 +had looked at the questioner, before the face had dropped again. 
  2.1793 +
  2.1794 +The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful. It was not the 
  2.1795 +faintness of physical weakness, though confinement and hard fare no 
  2.1796 +doubt had their part in it. Its deplorable peculiarity was, that it was the 
  2.1797 +faintness of solitude and disuse. It was like the last feeble echo of a 
  2.1798 +sound made long and long ago. So entirely had it lost the life and reson- 
  2.1799 +ance of the human voice, that it affected the senses like a once beautiful 
  2.1800 +colour faded away into a poor weak stain. So sunken and suppressed it 
  2.1801 +was, that it was like a voice underground. So expressive it was, of a 
  2.1802 +hopeless and lost creature, that a famished traveller, wearied out by 
  2.1803 +lonely wandering in a wilderness, would have remembered home and 
  2.1804 +friends in such a tone before lying down to die. 
  2.1805 +
  2.1806 +Some minutes of silent work had passed: and the haggard eyes had 
  2.1807 +looked up again: not with any interest or curiosity, but with a dull mech- 
  2.1808 +anical perception, beforehand, that the spot where the only visitor they 
  2.1809 +were aware of had stood, was not yet empty. 
  2.1810 +
  2.1811 +"I want," said Defarge, who had not removed his gaze from the shoe- 
  2.1812 +maker, "to let in a little more light here. You can bear a little more?" 
  2.1813 +
  2.1814 +
  2.1815 +
  2.1816 +38 
  2.1817 +
  2.1818 +
  2.1819 +
  2.1820 +The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening, 
  2.1821 +at the floor on one side of him; then similarly, at the floor on the other 
  2.1822 +side of him; then, upward at the speaker. 
  2.1823 +
  2.1824 +"What did you say?" 
  2.1825 +
  2.1826 +"You can bear a little more light?" 
  2.1827 +
  2.1828 +"I must bear it, if you let it in." (Laying the palest shadow of a stress 
  2.1829 +upon the second word.) 
  2.1830 +
  2.1831 +The opened half-door was opened a little further, and secured at that 
  2.1832 +angle for the time. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, and showed 
  2.1833 +the workman with an unfinished shoe upon his lap, pausing in his la- 
  2.1834 +bour. His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at his 
  2.1835 +feet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly cut, but not very 
  2.1836 +long, a hollow face, and exceedingly bright eyes. The hollo wness and 
  2.1837 +thinness of his face would have caused them to look large, under his yet 
  2.1838 +dark eyebrows and his confused white hair, though they had been really 
  2.1839 +otherwise; but, they were naturally large, and looked unnaturally so. His 
  2.1840 +yellow rags of shirt lay open at the throat, and showed his body to be 
  2.1841 +withered and worn. He, and his old canvas frock, and his loose stock- 
  2.1842 +ings, and all his poor tatters of clothes, had, in a long seclusion from dir- 
  2.1843 +ect light and air, faded down to such a dull uniformity of parchment-yel- 
  2.1844 +low, that it would have been hard to say which was which. 
  2.1845 +
  2.1846 +He had put up a hand between his eyes and the light, and the very 
  2.1847 +bones of it seemed transparent. So he sat, with a steadfastly vacant gaze, 
  2.1848 +pausing in his work. He never looked at the figure before him, without 
  2.1849 +first looking down on this side of himself, then on that, as if he had lost 
  2.1850 +the habit of associating place with sound; he never spoke, without first 
  2.1851 +wandering in this manner, and forgetting to speak. 
  2.1852 +
  2.1853 +"Are you going to finish that pair of shoes to-day?" asked Defarge, 
  2.1854 +motioning to Mr. Lorry to come forward. 
  2.1855 +
  2.1856 +"What did you say?" 
  2.1857 +
  2.1858 +"Do you mean to finish that pair of shoes to-day?" 
  2.1859 +
  2.1860 +"I can't say that I mean to. I suppose so. I don't know." 
  2.1861 +
  2.1862 +But, the question reminded him of his work, and he bent over it again. 
  2.1863 +
  2.1864 +Mr. Lorry came silently forward, leaving the daughter by the door. 
  2.1865 +When he had stood, for a minute or two, by the side of Defarge, the shoe- 
  2.1866 +maker looked up. He showed no surprise at seeing another figure, but 
  2.1867 +the unsteady fingers of one of his hands strayed to his lips as he looked 
  2.1868 +at it (his lips and his nails were of the same pale lead- colour), and then 
  2.1869 +
  2.1870 +
  2.1871 +
  2.1872 +39 
  2.1873 +
  2.1874 +
  2.1875 +
  2.1876 +the hand dropped to his work, and he once more bent over the shoe. The 
  2.1877 +look and the action had occupied but an instant. 
  2.1878 +
  2.1879 +"You have a visitor, you see," said Monsieur Defarge. 
  2.1880 +
  2.1881 +"What did you say?" 
  2.1882 +
  2.1883 +"Here is a visitor." 
  2.1884 +
  2.1885 +The shoemaker looked up as before, but without removing a hand 
  2.1886 +from his work. 
  2.1887 +
  2.1888 +"Come!" said Defarge. "Here is monsieur, who knows a well-made 
  2.1889 +shoe when he sees one. Show him that shoe you are working at. Take it, 
  2.1890 +monsieur." 
  2.1891 +
  2.1892 +Mr. Lorry took it in his hand. 
  2.1893 +
  2.1894 +"Tell monsieur what kind of shoe it is, and the maker's name." 
  2.1895 +
  2.1896 +There was a longer pause than usual, before the shoemaker replied: 
  2.1897 +
  2.1898 +"I forget what it was you asked me. What did you say?" 
  2.1899 +
  2.1900 +"I said, couldn't you describe the kind of shoe, for monsieur's 
  2.1901 +information?" 
  2.1902 +
  2.1903 +"It is a lady's shoe. It is a young lady's walking-shoe. It is in the 
  2.1904 +present mode. I never saw the mode. I have had a pattern in my hand." 
  2.1905 +He glanced at the shoe with some little passing touch of pride. 
  2.1906 +
  2.1907 +"And the maker's name?" said Defarge. 
  2.1908 +
  2.1909 +Now that he had no work to hold, he laid the knuckles of the right 
  2.1910 +hand in the hollow of the left, and then the knuckles of the left hand in 
  2.1911 +the hollow of the right, and then passed a hand across his bearded chin, 
  2.1912 +and so on in regular changes, without a moment's intermission. The task 
  2.1913 +of recalling him from the vagrancy into which he always sank when he 
  2.1914 +had spoken, was like recalling some very weak person from a swoon, or 
  2.1915 +endeavouring, in the hope of some disclosure, to stay the spirit of a fast- 
  2.1916 +dying man. 
  2.1917 +
  2.1918 +"Did you ask me for my name?" 
  2.1919 +
  2.1920 +"Assuredly I did." 
  2.1921 +
  2.1922 +"One Hundred and Five, North Tower." 
  2.1923 +
  2.1924 +"Is that all?" 
  2.1925 +
  2.1926 +"One Hundred and Five, North Tower." 
  2.1927 +
  2.1928 +With a weary sound that was not a sigh, nor a groan, he bent to work 
  2.1929 +again, until the silence was again broken. 
  2.1930 +
  2.1931 +
  2.1932 +
  2.1933 +40 
  2.1934 +
  2.1935 +
  2.1936 +
  2.1937 +"You are not a shoemaker by trade?" said Mr. Lorry, looking stead- 
  2.1938 +fastly at him. 
  2.1939 +
  2.1940 +His haggard eyes turned to Defarge as if he would have transferred 
  2.1941 +the question to him: but as no help came from that quarter, they turned 
  2.1942 +back on the questioner when they had sought the ground. 
  2.1943 +
  2.1944 +"I am not a shoemaker by trade? No, I was not a shoemaker by trade. 
  2.1945 +I-I learnt it here. I taught myself. I asked leave to - " 
  2.1946 +
  2.1947 +He lapsed away, even for minutes, ringing those measured changes on 
  2.1948 +his hands the whole time. His eyes came slowly back, at last, to the face 
  2.1949 +from which they had wandered; when they rested on it, he started, and 
  2.1950 +resumed, in the manner of a sleeper that moment awake, reverting to a 
  2.1951 +subject of last night. 
  2.1952 +
  2.1953 +"I asked leave to teach myself, and I got it with much difficulty after a 
  2.1954 +long while, and I have made shoes ever since." 
  2.1955 +
  2.1956 +As he held out his hand for the shoe that had been taken from him, 
  2.1957 +Mr. Lorry said, still looking steadfastly in his face: 
  2.1958 +
  2.1959 +"Monsieur Manette, do you remember nothing of me?" 
  2.1960 +
  2.1961 +The shoe dropped to the ground, and he sat looking fixedly at the 
  2.1962 +questioner. 
  2.1963 +
  2.1964 +"Monsieur Manette"; Mr. Lorry laid his hand upon Defarge's arm; "do 
  2.1965 +you remember nothing of this man? Look at him. Look at me. Is there no 
  2.1966 +old banker, no old business, no old servant, no old time, rising in your 
  2.1967 +mind, Monsieur Manette?" 
  2.1968 +
  2.1969 +As the captive of many years sat looking fixedly, by turns, at Mr. Lorry 
  2.1970 +and at Defarge, some long obliterated marks of an actively intent intelli- 
  2.1971 +gence in the middle of the forehead, gradually forced themselves 
  2.1972 +through the black mist that had fallen on him. They were overclouded 
  2.1973 +again, they were fainter, they were gone; but they had been there. And 
  2.1974 +so exactly was the expression repeated on the fair young face of her who 
  2.1975 +had crept along the wall to a point where she could see him, and where 
  2.1976 +she now stood looking at him, with hands which at first had been only 
  2.1977 +raised in frightened compassion, if not even to keep him off and shut out 
  2.1978 +the sight of him, but which were now extending towards him, trembling 
  2.1979 +with eagerness to lay the spectral face upon her warm young breast, and 
  2.1980 +love it back to life and hope - so exactly was the expression repeated 
  2.1981 +(though in stronger characters) on her fair young face, that it looked as 
  2.1982 +though it had passed like a moving light, from him to her. 
  2.1983 +
  2.1984 +
  2.1985 +
  2.1986 +41 
  2.1987 +
  2.1988 +
  2.1989 +
  2.1990 +Darkness had fallen on him in its place. He looked at the two, less and 
  2.1991 +less attentively, and his eyes in gloomy abstraction sought the ground 
  2.1992 +and looked about him in the old way. Finally, with a deep long sigh, he 
  2.1993 +took the shoe up, and resumed his work. 
  2.1994 +
  2.1995 +"Have you recognised him, monsieur?" asked Defarge in a whisper. 
  2.1996 +
  2.1997 +"Yes; for a moment. At first I thought it quite hopeless, but I have un- 
  2.1998 +questionably seen, for a single moment, the face that I once knew so well. 
  2.1999 +Hush! Let us draw further back. Hush!" 
  2.2000 +
  2.2001 +She had moved from the wall of the garret, very near to the bench on 
  2.2002 +which he sat. There was something awful in his unconsciousness of the 
  2.2003 +figure that could have put out its hand and touched him as he stooped 
  2.2004 +over his labour. 
  2.2005 +
  2.2006 +Not a word was spoken, not a sound was made. She stood, like a spir- 
  2.2007 +it, beside him, and he bent over his work. 
  2.2008 +
  2.2009 +It happened, at length, that he had occasion to change the instrument 
  2.2010 +in his hand, for his shoemaker's knife. It lay on that side of him which 
  2.2011 +was not the side on which she stood. He had taken it up, and was stoop- 
  2.2012 +ing to work again, when his eyes caught the skirt of her dress. He raised 
  2.2013 +them, and saw her face. The two spectators started forward, but she 
  2.2014 +stayed them with a motion of her hand. She had no fear of his striking at 
  2.2015 +her with the knife, though they had. 
  2.2016 +
  2.2017 +He stared at her with a fearful look, and after a while his lips began to 
  2.2018 +form some words, though no sound proceeded from them. By degrees, 
  2.2019 +in the pauses of his quick and laboured breathing, he was heard to say: 
  2.2020 +
  2.2021 +"What is this?" 
  2.2022 +
  2.2023 +With the tears streaming down her face, she put her two hands to her 
  2.2024 +lips, and kissed them to him; then clasped them on her breast, as if she 
  2.2025 +laid his ruined head there. 
  2.2026 +
  2.2027 +"You are not the gaoler's daughter?" 
  2.2028 +
  2.2029 +She sighed "No." 
  2.2030 +
  2.2031 +"Who are you?" 
  2.2032 +
  2.2033 +Not yet trusting the tones of her voice, she sat down on the bench be- 
  2.2034 +side him. He recoiled, but she laid her hand upon his arm. A strange 
  2.2035 +thrill struck him when she did so, and visibly passed over his frame; he 
  2.2036 +laid the knife down' softly, as he sat staring at her. 
  2.2037 +
  2.2038 +Her golden hair, which she wore in long curls, had been hurriedly 
  2.2039 +pushed aside, and fell down over her neck. Advancing his hand by little 
  2.2040 +
  2.2041 +
  2.2042 +
  2.2043 +42 
  2.2044 +
  2.2045 +
  2.2046 +
  2.2047 +and little, he took it up and looked at it. In the midst of the action he 
  2.2048 +went astray, and, with another deep sigh, fell to work at his shoemaking. 
  2.2049 +
  2.2050 +But not for long. Releasing his arm, she laid her hand upon his 
  2.2051 +shoulder. After looking doubtfully at it, two or three times, as if to be 
  2.2052 +sure that it was really there, he laid down his work, put his hand to his 
  2.2053 +neck, and took off a blackened string with a scrap of folded rag attached 
  2.2054 +to it. He opened this, carefully, on his knee, and it contained a very little 
  2.2055 +quantity of hair: not more than one or two long golden hairs, which he 
  2.2056 +had, in some old day, wound off upon his finger. 
  2.2057 +
  2.2058 +He took her hair into his hand again, and looked closely at it. "It is the 
  2.2059 +same. How can it be! When was it! How was it!" 
  2.2060 +
  2.2061 +As the concentrated expression returned to his forehead, he seemed to 
  2.2062 +become conscious that it was in hers too. He turned her full to the light, 
  2.2063 +and looked at her. 
  2.2064 +
  2.2065 +"She had laid her head upon my shoulder, that night when I was 
  2.2066 +summoned out - she had a fear of my going, though I had none - and 
  2.2067 +when I was brought to the North Tower they found these upon my 
  2.2068 +sleeve. 'You will leave me them? They can never help me to escape in the 
  2.2069 +body, though they may in the spirit.' Those were the words I said. I re- 
  2.2070 +member them very well." 
  2.2071 +
  2.2072 +He formed this speech with his lips many times before he could utter 
  2.2073 +it. But when he did find spoken words for it, they came to him coher- 
  2.2074 +ently, though slowly. 
  2.2075 +
  2.2076 +"How was this? - Was it you?" 
  2.2077 +
  2.2078 +Once more, the two spectators started, as he turned upon her with a 
  2.2079 +frightful suddenness. But she sat perfectly still in his grasp, and only 
  2.2080 +said, in a low voice, "I entreat you, good gentlemen, do not come near 
  2.2081 +us, do not speak, do not move!" 
  2.2082 +
  2.2083 +"Hark!" he exclaimed. "Whose voice was that?" 
  2.2084 +
  2.2085 +His hands released her as he uttered this cry, and went up to his white 
  2.2086 +hair, which they tore in a frenzy. It died out, as everything but his shoe- 
  2.2087 +making did die out of him, and he refolded his little packet and tried to 
  2.2088 +secure it in his breast; but he still looked at her, and gloomily shook his 
  2.2089 +head. 
  2.2090 +
  2.2091 +"No, no, no; you are too young, too blooming. It can't be. See what the 
  2.2092 +prisoner is. These are not the hands she knew, this is not the face she 
  2.2093 +knew, this is not a voice she ever heard. No, no. She was - and He 
  2.2094 +
  2.2095 +
  2.2096 +
  2.2097 +43 
  2.2098 +
  2.2099 +
  2.2100 +
  2.2101 +was - before the slow years of the North Tower - ages ago. What is your 
  2.2102 +name, my gentle angel?" 
  2.2103 +
  2.2104 +Hailing his softened tone and manner, his daughter fell upon her 
  2.2105 +knees before him, with her appealing hands upon his breast. 
  2.2106 +
  2.2107 +"O, sir, at another time you shall know my name, and who my mother 
  2.2108 +was, and who my father, and how I never knew their hard, hard history. 
  2.2109 +But I cannot tell you at this time, and I cannot tell you here. All that I 
  2.2110 +may tell you, here and now, is, that I pray to you to touch me and to 
  2.2111 +bless me. Kiss me, kiss me! O my dear, my dear!" 
  2.2112 +
  2.2113 +His cold white head mingled with her radiant hair, which warmed 
  2.2114 +and lighted it as though it were the light of Freedom shining on him. 
  2.2115 +
  2.2116 +"If you hear in my voice - I don't know that it is so, but I hope it is - if 
  2.2117 +you hear in my voice any resemblance to a voice that once was sweet 
  2.2118 +music in your ears, weep for it, weep for it! If you touch, in touching my 
  2.2119 +hair, anything that recalls a beloved head that lay on your breast when 
  2.2120 +you were young and free, weep for it, weep for it! If, when I hint to you 
  2.2121 +of a Home that is before us, where I will be true to you with all my duty 
  2.2122 +and with all my faithful service, I bring back the remembrance of a 
  2.2123 +Home long desolate, while your poor heart pined away, weep for it, 
  2.2124 +weep for it!" 
  2.2125 +
  2.2126 +She held him closer round the neck, and rocked him on her breast like 
  2.2127 +a child. 
  2.2128 +
  2.2129 +"If, when I tell you, dearest dear, that your agony is over, and that I 
  2.2130 +have come here to take you from it, and that we go to England to be at 
  2.2131 +peace and at rest, I cause you to think of your useful life laid waste, and 
  2.2132 +of our native France so wicked to you, weep for it, weep for it! And if, 
  2.2133 +when I shall tell you of my name, and of my father who is living, and of 
  2.2134 +my mother who is dead, you learn that I have to kneel to my honoured 
  2.2135 +father, and implore his pardon for having never for his sake striven all 
  2.2136 +day and lain awake and wept all night, because the love of my poor 
  2.2137 +mother hid his torture from me, weep for it, weep for it! Weep for her, 
  2.2138 +then, and for me! Good gentlemen, thank God! I feel his sacred tears 
  2.2139 +upon my face, and his sobs strike against my heart. O, see! Thank God 
  2.2140 +for us, thank God!" 
  2.2141 +
  2.2142 +He had sunk in her arms, and his face dropped on her breast: a sight 
  2.2143 +so touching, yet so terrible in the tremendous wrong and suffering which 
  2.2144 +had gone before it, that the two beholders covered their faces. 
  2.2145 +
  2.2146 +
  2.2147 +
  2.2148 +44 
  2.2149 +
  2.2150 +
  2.2151 +
  2.2152 +When the quiet of the garret had been long undisturbed, and his heav- 
  2.2153 +ing breast and shaken form had long yielded to the calm that must fol- 
  2.2154 +low all storms - emblem to humanity, of the rest and silence into which 
  2.2155 +the storm called Life must hush at last - they came forward to raise the 
  2.2156 +father and daughter from the ground. He had gradually dropped to the 
  2.2157 +floor, and lay there in a lethargy, worn out. She had nestled down with 
  2.2158 +him, that his head might lie upon her arm; and her hair drooping over 
  2.2159 +him curtained him from the light. 
  2.2160 +
  2.2161 +"If, without disturbing him," she said, raising her hand to Mr. Lorry as 
  2.2162 +he stooped over them, after repeated blowings of his nose, "all could be 
  2.2163 +arranged for our leaving Paris at once, so that, from the, very door, he 
  2.2164 +could be taken away - " 
  2.2165 +
  2.2166 +"But, consider. Is he fit for the journey?" asked Mr. Lorry. 
  2.2167 +
  2.2168 +"More fit for that, I think, than to remain in this city, so dreadful to 
  2.2169 +him." 
  2.2170 +
  2.2171 +"It is true," said Defarge, who was kneeling to look on and hear. 
  2.2172 +"More than that; Monsieur Manette is, for all reasons, best out of France. 
  2.2173 +Say, shall I hire a carriage and post-horses?" 
  2.2174 +
  2.2175 +"That's business," said Mr. Lorry, resuming on the shortest notice his 
  2.2176 +methodical manners; "and if business is to be done, I had better do it." 
  2.2177 +
  2.2178 +"Then be so kind," urged Miss Manette, "as to leave us here. You see 
  2.2179 +how composed he has become, and you cannot be afraid to leave him 
  2.2180 +with me now. Why should you be? If you will lock the door to secure us 
  2.2181 +from interruption, I do not doubt that you will find him, when you come 
  2.2182 +back, as quiet as you leave him. In any case, I will take care of him until 
  2.2183 +you return, and then we will remove him straight." 
  2.2184 +
  2.2185 +Both Mr. Lorry and Defarge were rather disinclined to this course, and 
  2.2186 +in favour of one of them remaining. But, as there were not only carriage 
  2.2187 +and horses to be seen to, but travelling papers; and as time pressed, for 
  2.2188 +the day was drawing to an end, it came at last to their hastily dividing 
  2.2189 +the business that was necessary to be done, and hurrying away to do it. 
  2.2190 +
  2.2191 +Then, as the darkness closed in, the daughter laid her head down on 
  2.2192 +the hard ground close at the father's side, and watched him. The dark- 
  2.2193 +ness deepened and deepened, and they both lay quiet, until a light 
  2.2194 +gleamed through the chinks in the wall. 
  2.2195 +
  2.2196 +Mr. Lorry and Monsieur Defarge had made all ready for the journey, 
  2.2197 +and had brought with them, besides travelling cloaks and wrappers, 
  2.2198 +bread and meat, wine, and hot coffee. Monsieur Defarge put this 
  2.2199 +
  2.2200 +
  2.2201 +
  2.2202 +45 
  2.2203 +
  2.2204 +
  2.2205 +
  2.2206 +provender, and the lamp he carried, on the shoemaker's bench (there 
  2.2207 +was nothing else in the garret but a pallet bed), and he and Mr. Lorry 
  2.2208 +roused the captive, and assisted him to his feet. 
  2.2209 +
  2.2210 +No human intelligence could have read the mysteries of his mind, in 
  2.2211 +the scared blank wonder of his face. Whether he knew what had 
  2.2212 +happened, whether he recollected what they had said to him, whether he 
  2.2213 +knew that he was free, were questions which no sagacity could have 
  2.2214 +solved. They tried speaking to him; but, he was so confused, and so very 
  2.2215 +slow to answer, that they took fright at his bewilderment, and agreed for 
  2.2216 +the time to tamper with him no more. He had a wild, lost manner of oc- 
  2.2217 +casionally clasping his head in his hands, that had not been seen in him 
  2.2218 +before; yet, he had some pleasure in the mere sound of his daughter's 
  2.2219 +voice, and invariably turned to it when she spoke. 
  2.2220 +
  2.2221 +In the submissive way of one long accustomed to obey under coercion, 
  2.2222 +he ate and drank what they gave him to eat and drink, and put on the 
  2.2223 +cloak and other wrappings, that they gave him to wear. He readily re- 
  2.2224 +sponded to his daughter's drawing her arm through his, and took - and 
  2.2225 +kept - her hand in both his own. 
  2.2226 +
  2.2227 +They began to descend; Monsieur Defarge going first with the lamp, 
  2.2228 +Mr. Lorry closing the little procession. They had not traversed many 
  2.2229 +steps of the long main staircase when he stopped, and stared at the roof 
  2.2230 +and round at the wails. 
  2.2231 +
  2.2232 +"You remember the place, my father? You remember coming up 
  2.2233 +here?" 
  2.2234 +
  2.2235 +"What did you say?" 
  2.2236 +
  2.2237 +But, before she could repeat the question, he murmured an answer as 
  2.2238 +if she had repeated it. 
  2.2239 +
  2.2240 +"Remember? No, I don't remember. It was so very long ago." 
  2.2241 +
  2.2242 +That he had no recollection whatever of his having been brought from 
  2.2243 +his prison to that house, was apparent to them. They heard him mutter, 
  2.2244 +"One Hundred and Five, North Tower;" and when he looked about him, 
  2.2245 +it evidently was for the strong fortress-walls which had long encom- 
  2.2246 +passed him. On their reaching the courtyard he instinctively altered his 
  2.2247 +tread, as being in expectation of a drawbridge; and when there was no 
  2.2248 +drawbridge, and he saw the carriage waiting in the open street, he 
  2.2249 +dropped his daughter's hand and clasped his head again. 
  2.2250 +
  2.2251 +No crowd was about the door; no people were discernible at any of the 
  2.2252 +many windows; not even a chance passerby was in the street. An 
  2.2253 +
  2.2254 +
  2.2255 +
  2.2256 +46 
  2.2257 +
  2.2258 +
  2.2259 +
  2.2260 +unnatural silence and desertion reigned there. Only one soul was to be 
  2.2261 +seen, and that was Madame Defarge - who leaned against the door-post, 
  2.2262 +knitting, and saw nothing. 
  2.2263 +
  2.2264 +The prisoner had got into a coach, and his daughter had followed him, 
  2.2265 +when Mr. Lorry's feet were arrested on the step by his asking, miserably, 
  2.2266 +for his shoemaking tools and the unfinished shoes. Madame Defarge im- 
  2.2267 +mediately called to her husband that she would get them, and went, 
  2.2268 +knitting, out of the lamplight, through the courtyard. She quickly 
  2.2269 +brought them down and handed them in; - and immediately afterwards 
  2.2270 +leaned against the door-post, knitting, and saw nothing. 
  2.2271 +
  2.2272 +Defarge got upon the box, and gave the word "To the Barrier!" The 
  2.2273 +postilion cracked his whip, and they clattered away under the feeble 
  2.2274 +over-swinging lamps. 
  2.2275 +
  2.2276 +Under the over-swinging lamps - swinging ever brighter in the better 
  2.2277 +streets, and ever dimmer in the worse - and by lighted shops, gay 
  2.2278 +crowds, illuminated coffee-houses, and theatre-doors, to one of the city 
  2.2279 +gates. Soldiers with lanterns, at the guard-house there. "Your papers, 
  2.2280 +travellers!" "See here then, Monsieur the Officer," said Defarge, getting 
  2.2281 +down, and taking him gravely apart, "these are the papers of monsieur 
  2.2282 +inside, with the white head. They were consigned to me, with him, at 
  2.2283 +the - " He dropped his voice, there was a flutter among the military lan- 
  2.2284 +terns, and one of them being handed into the coach by an arm in uni- 
  2.2285 +form, the eyes connected with the arm looked, not an every day or an 
  2.2286 +every night look, at monsieur with the white head. "It is well. Forward!" 
  2.2287 +from the uniform. "Adieu!" from Defarge. And so, under a short grove 
  2.2288 +of feebler and feebler over-swinging lamps, out under the great grove of 
  2.2289 +stars. 
  2.2290 +
  2.2291 +Beneath that arch of unmoved and eternal lights; some, so remote from 
  2.2292 +this little earth that the learned tell us it is doubtful whether their rays 
  2.2293 +have even yet discovered it, as a point in space where anything is 
  2.2294 +suffered or done: the shadows of the night were broad and black. All 
  2.2295 +through the cold and restless interval, until dawn, they once more 
  2.2296 +whispered in the ears of Mr. Jarvis Lorry - sitting opposite the buried 
  2.2297 +man who had been dug out, and wondering what subtle powers were 
  2.2298 +for ever lost to him, and what were capable of restoration - the old 
  2.2299 +inquiry: 
  2.2300 +
  2.2301 +"I hope you care to be recalled to life?" 
  2.2302 +
  2.2303 +And the old answer: 
  2.2304 +
  2.2305 +"I can't say." 
  2.2306 +
  2.2307 +
  2.2308 +
  2.2309 +47 
  2.2310 +
  2.2311 +
  2.2312 +
  2.2313 +Part 2 
  2.2314 +The Golden Thread 
  2.2315 +
  2.2316 +
  2.2317 +
  2.2318 +48 
  2.2319 +
  2.2320 +
  2.2321 +
  2.2322 +Chapter 
  2.2323 +
  2.2324 +
  2.2325 +
  2.2326 +1 
  2.2327 +
  2.2328 +
  2.2329 +
  2.2330 +Five Years Later 
  2.2331 +
  2.2332 +Tellson's Bank by Temple Bar was an old-fashioned place, even in the 
  2.2333 +year one thousand seven hundred and eighty. It was very small, very 
  2.2334 +dark, very ugly, very incommodious. It was an old-fashioned place, 
  2.2335 +moreover, in the moral attribute that the partners in the House were 
  2.2336 +proud of its smallness, proud of its darkness, proud of its ugliness, 
  2.2337 +proud of its incommodiousness. They were even boastful of its eminence 
  2.2338 +in those particulars, and were fired by an express conviction that, if it 
  2.2339 +were less objectionable, it would be less respectable. This was no passive 
  2.2340 +belief, but an active weapon which they flashed at more convenient 
  2.2341 +places of business. Tellson's (they said) wanted no elbow-room, Tellson's 
  2.2342 +wanted no light, Tellson's wanted no embellishment. Noakes and Co.'s 
  2.2343 +might, or Snooks Brothers' might; but Tellson's, thank Heaven! - 
  2.2344 +
  2.2345 +Any one of these partners would have disinherited his son on the 
  2.2346 +question of rebuilding Tellson's. In this respect the House was much on a 
  2.2347 +par with the Country; which did very often disinherit its sons for sug- 
  2.2348 +gesting improvements in laws and customs that had long been highly 
  2.2349 +objectionable, but were only the more respectable. 
  2.2350 +
  2.2351 +Thus it had come to pass, that Tellson's was the triumphant perfection 
  2.2352 +of inconvenience. After bursting open a door of idiotic obstinacy with a 
  2.2353 +weak rattle in its throat, you fell into Tellson's down two steps, and came 
  2.2354 +to your senses in a miserable little shop, with two little counters, where 
  2.2355 +the oldest of men made your cheque shake as if the wind rustled it, while 
  2.2356 +they examined the signature by the dingiest of windows, which were al- 
  2.2357 +ways under a shower-bath of mud from Fleet-street, and which were 
  2.2358 +made the dingier by their own iron bars proper, and the heavy shadow 
  2.2359 +of Temple Bar. If your business necessitated your seeing "the House," 
  2.2360 +you were put into a species of Condemned Hold at the back, where you 
  2.2361 +meditated on a misspent life, until the House came with its hands in its 
  2.2362 +pockets, and you could hardly blink at it in the dismal twilight. Your 
  2.2363 +money came out of, or went into, wormy old wooden drawers, particles 
  2.2364 +
  2.2365 +
  2.2366 +
  2.2367 +49 
  2.2368 +
  2.2369 +
  2.2370 +
  2.2371 +of which flew up your nose and down your throat when they were 
  2.2372 +opened and shut. Your bank-notes had a musty odour, as if they were 
  2.2373 +fast decomposing into rags again. Your plate was stowed away among 
  2.2374 +the neighbouring cesspools, and evil communications corrupted its good 
  2.2375 +polish in a day or two. Your deeds got into extemporised strong-rooms 
  2.2376 +made of kitchens and sculleries, and fretted all the fat out of their parch- 
  2.2377 +ments into the banking-house air. Your lighter boxes of family papers 
  2.2378 +went up-stairs into a Barmecide room, that always had a great dining- 
  2.2379 +table in it and never had a dinner, and where, even in the year one thou- 
  2.2380 +sand seven hundred and eighty, the first letters written to you by your 
  2.2381 +old love, or by your little children, were but newly released from the hor- 
  2.2382 +ror of being ogled through the windows, by the heads exposed on 
  2.2383 +Temple Bar with an insensate brutality and ferocity worthy of Abyssinia 
  2.2384 +or Ashantee. 
  2.2385 +
  2.2386 +But indeed, at that time, putting to death was a recipe much in vogue 
  2.2387 +with all trades and professions, and not least of all with Tellson's. Death 
  2.2388 +is Nature's remedy for all things, and why not Legislation's? Accord- 
  2.2389 +ingly, the forger was put to Death; the utterer of a bad note was put to 
  2.2390 +Death; the unlawful opener of a letter was put to Death; the purloiner of 
  2.2391 +forty shillings and sixpence was put to Death; the holder of a horse at 
  2.2392 +Tellson's door, who made off with it, was put to Death; the coiner of a 
  2.2393 +bad shilling was put to Death; the sounders of three-fourths of the notes 
  2.2394 +in the whole gamut of Crime, were put to Death. Not that it did the least 
  2.2395 +good in the way of prevention - it might almost have been worth re- 
  2.2396 +marking that the fact was exactly the reverse - but, it cleared off (as to 
  2.2397 +this world) the trouble of each particular case, and left nothing else con- 
  2.2398 +nected with it to be looked after. Thus, Tellson's, in its day, like greater 
  2.2399 +places of business, its contemporaries, had taken so many lives, that, if 
  2.2400 +the heads laid low before it had been ranged on Temple Bar instead of 
  2.2401 +being privately disposed of, they would probably have excluded what 
  2.2402 +little light the ground floor had, in a rather significant manner. 
  2.2403 +
  2.2404 +Cramped in all kinds of dun cupboards and hutches at Tellson's, the 
  2.2405 +oldest of men carried on the business gravely. When they took a young 
  2.2406 +man into Tellson's London house, they hid him somewhere till he was 
  2.2407 +old. They kept him in a dark place, like a cheese, until he had the full 
  2.2408 +Tellson flavour and blue-mould upon him. Then only was he permitted 
  2.2409 +to be seen, spectacularly poring over large books, and casting his 
  2.2410 +breeches and gaiters into the general weight of the establishment. 
  2.2411 +
  2.2412 +Outside Tellson's - never by any means in it, unless called in - was an 
  2.2413 +odd-job-man, an occasional porter and messenger, who served as the live 
  2.2414 +
  2.2415 +
  2.2416 +
  2.2417 +50 
  2.2418 +
  2.2419 +
  2.2420 +
  2.2421 +sign of the house. He was never absent during business hours, unless 
  2.2422 +upon an errand, and then he was represented by his son: a grisly urchin 
  2.2423 +of twelve, who was his express image. People understood that Tellson's, 
  2.2424 +in a stately way, tolerated the odd-job-man. The house had always toler- 
  2.2425 +ated some person in that capacity, and time and tide had drifted this per- 
  2.2426 +son to the post. His surname was Cruncher, and on the youthful occasion 
  2.2427 +of his renouncing by proxy the works of darkness, in the easterly parish 
  2.2428 +church of Hounsditch, he had received the added appellation of Jerry. 
  2.2429 +
  2.2430 +The scene was Mr. Cruncher's private lodging in Hanging-sword-al- 
  2.2431 +ley, Whitefriars: the time, half-past seven of the clock on a windy March 
  2.2432 +morning, Anno Domini seventeen hundred and eighty. (Mr. Cruncher 
  2.2433 +himself always spoke of the year of our Lord as Anna Dominoes: appar- 
  2.2434 +ently under the impression that the Christian era dated from the inven- 
  2.2435 +tion of a popular game, by a lady who had bestowed her name upon it.) 
  2.2436 +
  2.2437 +Mr. Cruncher's apartments were not in a savoury neighbourhood, and 
  2.2438 +were but two in number, even if a closet with a single pane of glass in it 
  2.2439 +might be counted as one. But they were very decently kept. Early as it 
  2.2440 +was, on the windy March morning, the room in which he lay abed was 
  2.2441 +already scrubbed throughout; and between the cups and saucers ar- 
  2.2442 +ranged for breakfast, and the lumbering deal table, a very clean white 
  2.2443 +cloth was spread. 
  2.2444 +
  2.2445 +Mr. Cruncher reposed under a patchwork counterpane, like a Harle- 
  2.2446 +quin at home. At fast, he slept heavily, but, by degrees, began to roll and 
  2.2447 +surge in bed, until he rose above the surface, with his spiky hair looking 
  2.2448 +as if it must tear the sheets to ribbons. At which juncture, he exclaimed, 
  2.2449 +in a voice of dire exasperation: 
  2.2450 +
  2.2451 +"Bust me, if she ain't at it agin!" 
  2.2452 +
  2.2453 +A woman of orderly and industrious appearance rose from her knees 
  2.2454 +in a corner, with sufficient haste and trepidation to show that she was 
  2.2455 +the person referred to. 
  2.2456 +
  2.2457 +"What!" said Mr. Cruncher, looking out of bed for a boot. "You're at it 
  2.2458 +agin, are you?" 
  2.2459 +
  2.2460 +After hailing the mom with this second salutation, he threw a boot at 
  2.2461 +the woman as a third. It was a very muddy boot, and may introduce the 
  2.2462 +odd circumstance connected with Mr. Cruncher's domestic economy, 
  2.2463 +that, whereas he often came home after banking hours with clean boots, 
  2.2464 +he often got up next morning to find the same boots covered with clay. 
  2.2465 +
  2.2466 +
  2.2467 +
  2.2468 +51 
  2.2469 +
  2.2470 +
  2.2471 +
  2.2472 +"What," said Mr. Cruncher, varying his apostrophe after missing his 
  2.2473 +mark - "what are you up to, Aggerawayter?" 
  2.2474 +
  2.2475 +"I was only saying my prayers." 
  2.2476 +
  2.2477 +"Saying your prayers! You're a nice woman! What do you mean by 
  2.2478 +flopping yourself down and praying agin me?" 
  2.2479 +
  2.2480 +"I was not praying against you; I was praying for you." 
  2.2481 +
  2.2482 +"You weren't. And if you were, I won't be took the liberty with. Here! 
  2.2483 +your mother's a nice woman, young Jerry, going a praying agin your 
  2.2484 +father's prosperity. You've got a dutiful mother, you have, my son. 
  2.2485 +You've got a religious mother, you have, my boy: going and flopping 
  2.2486 +herself down, and praying that the bread-and-butter may be snatched 
  2.2487 +out of the mouth of her only child." 
  2.2488 +
  2.2489 +Master Cruncher (who was in his shirt) took this very ill, and, turning 
  2.2490 +to his mother, strongly deprecated any praying away of his personal 
  2.2491 +board. 
  2.2492 +
  2.2493 +"And what do you suppose, you conceited female," said Mr. Crunch- 
  2.2494 +er, with unconscious inconsistency, "that the worth of your prayers may 
  2.2495 +be? Name the price that you put your prayers at!" 
  2.2496 +
  2.2497 +"They only come from the heart, Jerry. They are worth no more than 
  2.2498 +that." 
  2.2499 +
  2.2500 +"Worth no more than that," repeated Mr. Cruncher. "They ain't worth 
  2.2501 +much, then. Whether or no, I won't be prayed agin, I tell you. I can't af- 
  2.2502 +ford it. I'm not a going to be made unlucky by your sneaking. If you 
  2.2503 +must go flopping yourself down, flop in favour of your husband and 
  2.2504 +child, and not in opposition to 'em. If I had had any but a unnat'ral wife, 
  2.2505 +and this poor boy had had any but a unnat'ral mother, I might have 
  2.2506 +made some money last week instead of being counter-prayed and coun- 
  2.2507 +termined and religiously circumwented into the worst of luck. B-u-u-ust 
  2.2508 +me!" said Mr. Cruncher, who all this time had been putting on his 
  2.2509 +clothes, "if I ain't, what with piety and one blowed thing and another, 
  2.2510 +been choused this last week into as bad luck as ever a poor devil of a 
  2.2511 +honest tradesman met with! Young Jerry, dress yourself, my boy, and 
  2.2512 +while I clean my boots keep a eye upon your mother now and then, and 
  2.2513 +if you see any signs of more flopping, give me a call. For, I tell you," here 
  2.2514 +he addressed his wife once more, "I won't be gone agin, in this manner. I 
  2.2515 +am as rickety as a hackney-coach, I'm as sleepy as laudanum, my lines is 
  2.2516 +strained to that degree that I shouldn't know, if it wasn't for the pain in 
  2.2517 +'em, which was me and which somebody else, yet I'm none the better for 
  2.2518 +
  2.2519 +
  2.2520 +
  2.2521 +52 
  2.2522 +
  2.2523 +
  2.2524 +
  2.2525 +it in pocket; and it's my suspicion that you've been at it from morning to 
  2.2526 +night to prevent me from being the better for it in pocket, and I won't 
  2.2527 +put up with it, Aggerawayter, and what do you say now!" 
  2.2528 +
  2.2529 +Growling, in addition, such phrases as "Ah! yes! You're religious, too. 
  2.2530 +You wouldn't put yourself in opposition to the interests of your husband 
  2.2531 +and child, would you? Not you!" and throwing off other sarcastic sparks 
  2.2532 +from the whirling grindstone of his indignation, Mr. Cruncher betook 
  2.2533 +himself to his boot-cleaning and his general preparation for business. In 
  2.2534 +the meantime, his son, whose head was garnished with tenderer spikes, 
  2.2535 +and whose young eyes stood close by one another, as his father's did, 
  2.2536 +kept the required watch upon his mother. He greatly disturbed that poor 
  2.2537 +woman at intervals, by darting out of his sleeping closet, where he made 
  2.2538 +his toilet, with a suppressed cry of "You are going to flop, moth- 
  2.2539 +er. - Halloa, father!" and, after raising this fictitious alarm, darting in 
  2.2540 +again with an undutiful grin. 
  2.2541 +
  2.2542 +Mr. Cruncher's temper was not at all improved when he came to his 
  2.2543 +breakfast. He resented Mrs. Cruncher's saying grace with particular 
  2.2544 +animosity. 
  2.2545 +
  2.2546 +"Now, Aggerawayter! What are you up to? At it again?" 
  2.2547 +
  2.2548 +His wife explained that she had merely "asked a blessing." 
  2.2549 +
  2.2550 +"Don't do it!" said Mr. Crunches looking about, as if he rather expec- 
  2.2551 +ted to see the loaf disappear under the efficacy of his wife's petitions. "I 
  2.2552 +ain't a going to be blest out of house and home. I won't have my wittles 
  2.2553 +blest off my table. Keep still!" 
  2.2554 +
  2.2555 +Exceedingly red-eyed and grim, as if he had been up all night at a 
  2.2556 +party which had taken anything but a convivial turn, Jerry Cruncher 
  2.2557 +worried his breakfast rather than ate it, growling over it like any four- 
  2.2558 +footed inmate of a menagerie. Towards nine o'clock he smoothed his 
  2.2559 +ruffled aspect, and, presenting as respectable and business-like an exteri- 
  2.2560 +or as he could overlay his natural self with, issued forth to the occupa- 
  2.2561 +tion of the day. 
  2.2562 +
  2.2563 +It could scarcely be called a trade, in spite of his favourite description 
  2.2564 +of himself as "a honest tradesman." His stock consisted of a wooden 
  2.2565 +stool, made out of a broken-backed chair cut down, which stool, young 
  2.2566 +Jerry, walking at his father's side, carried every morning to beneath the 
  2.2567 +banking-house window that was nearest Temple Bar: where, with the 
  2.2568 +addition of the first handful of straw that could be gleaned from any 
  2.2569 +passing vehicle to keep the cold and wet from the odd-job-man's feet, it 
  2.2570 +formed the encampment for the day. On this post of his, Mr. Cruncher 
  2.2571 +
  2.2572 +
  2.2573 +
  2.2574 +53 
  2.2575 +
  2.2576 +
  2.2577 +
  2.2578 +was as well known to Fleet-street and the Temple, as the Bar itself, - and 
  2.2579 +was almost as in-looking. 
  2.2580 +
  2.2581 +Encamped at a quarter before nine, in good time to touch his three- 
  2.2582 +cornered hat to the oldest of men as they passed in to Tellson's, Jerry 
  2.2583 +took up his station on this windy March morning, with young Jerry 
  2.2584 +standing by him, when not engaged in making forays through the Bar, to 
  2.2585 +inflict bodily and mental injuries of an acute description on passing boys 
  2.2586 +who were small enough for his amiable purpose. Father and son, ex- 
  2.2587 +tremely like each other, looking silently on at the morning traffic in Fleet- 
  2.2588 +street, with their two heads as near to one another as the two eyes of 
  2.2589 +each were, bore a considerable resemblance to a pair of monkeys. The re- 
  2.2590 +semblance was not lessened by the accidental circumstance, that the ma- 
  2.2591 +ture Jerry bit and spat out straw, while the twinkling eyes of the youthful 
  2.2592 +Jerry were as restlessly watchful of him as of everything else in Fleet- 
  2.2593 +street. 
  2.2594 +
  2.2595 +The head of one of the regular indoor messengers attached to Tellson's 
  2.2596 +establishment was put through the door, and the word was given: 
  2.2597 +
  2.2598 +"Porter wanted!" 
  2.2599 +
  2.2600 +"Hooray, father! Here's an early job to begin with!" 
  2.2601 +
  2.2602 +Having thus given his parent God speed, young Jerry seated himself 
  2.2603 +on the stool, entered on his reversionary interest in the straw his father 
  2.2604 +had been chewing, and cogitated. 
  2.2605 +
  2.2606 +"Al-ways rusty! His fingers is al-ways rusty!" muttered young Jerry. 
  2.2607 +"Where does my father get all that iron rust from? He don't get no iron 
  2.2608 +rust here!" 
  2.2609 +
  2.2610 +
  2.2611 +
  2.2612 +54 
  2.2613 +
  2.2614 +
  2.2615 +
  2.2616 +Chapter 
  2.2617 +
  2.2618 +
  2.2619 +
  2.2620 +2 
  2.2621 +
  2.2622 +
  2.2623 +
  2.2624 +A Sight 
  2.2625 +
  2.2626 +"You know the Old Bailey, well, no doubt?" said one of the oldest of 
  2.2627 +clerks to Jerry the messenger. 
  2.2628 +
  2.2629 +"Ye-es, sir," returned Jerry, in something of a dogged manner. "I do 
  2.2630 +know the Bailey." 
  2.2631 +
  2.2632 +"Just so. And you know Mr. Lorry." 
  2.2633 +
  2.2634 +"I know Mr. Lorry, sir, much better than I know the Bailey. Much bet- 
  2.2635 +ter," said Jerry, not unlike a reluctant witness at the establishment in 
  2.2636 +question, "than I, as a honest tradesman, wish to know the Bailey." 
  2.2637 +
  2.2638 +"Very well. Find the door where the witnesses go in, and show the 
  2.2639 +door-keeper this note for Mr. Lorry. He will then let you in." 
  2.2640 +
  2.2641 +"Into the court, sir?" 
  2.2642 +
  2.2643 +"Into the court." 
  2.2644 +
  2.2645 +Mr. Cruncher's eyes seemed to get a little closer to one another, and to 
  2.2646 +interchange the inquiry, "What do you think of this?" 
  2.2647 +
  2.2648 +"Am I to wait in the court, sir?" he asked, as the result of that 
  2.2649 +conference. 
  2.2650 +
  2.2651 +"I am going to tell you. The door-keeper will pass the note to Mr. 
  2.2652 +Lorry, and do you make any gesture that will attract Mr. Lorry's atten- 
  2.2653 +tion, and show him where you stand. Then what you have to do, is, to 
  2.2654 +remain there until he wants you." 
  2.2655 +
  2.2656 +"Is that all, sir?" 
  2.2657 +
  2.2658 +"That's all. He wishes to have a messenger at hand. This is to tell him 
  2.2659 +you are there." 
  2.2660 +
  2.2661 +As the ancient clerk deliberately folded and superscribed the note, Mr. 
  2.2662 +Cruncher, after surveying him in silence until he came to the blotting-pa- 
  2.2663 +per stage, remarked: 
  2.2664 +
  2.2665 +"I suppose they'll be trying Forgeries this morning?" 
  2.2666 +
  2.2667 +
  2.2668 +
  2.2669 +55 
  2.2670 +
  2.2671 +
  2.2672 +
  2.2673 +"Treason!" 
  2.2674 +
  2.2675 +"That's quartering," said Jerry. "Barbarous!" 
  2.2676 +
  2.2677 +"It is the law," remarked the ancient clerk, turning his surprised spec- 
  2.2678 +tacles upon him. "It is the law." 
  2.2679 +
  2.2680 +"It's hard in the law to spile a man, I think. Ifs hard enough to kill him, 
  2.2681 +but it's wery hard to spile him, sir." 
  2.2682 +
  2.2683 +"Not at all," retained the ancient clerk. "Speak well of the law. Take 
  2.2684 +care of your chest and voice, my good friend, and leave the law to take 
  2.2685 +care of itself. I give you that advice." 
  2.2686 +
  2.2687 +"It's the damp, sir, what settles on my chest and voice," said Jerry. "I 
  2.2688 +leave you to judge what a damp way of earning a living mine is." 
  2.2689 +
  2.2690 +"Well, well," said the old clerk; "we all have our various ways of gain- 
  2.2691 +ing a livelihood. Some of us have damp ways, and some of us have dry 
  2.2692 +ways. Here is the letter. Go along." 
  2.2693 +
  2.2694 +Jerry took the letter, and, remarking to himself with less internal defer- 
  2.2695 +ence than he made an outward show of, "You are a lean old one, too," 
  2.2696 +made his bow, informed his son, in passing, of his destination, and went 
  2.2697 +his way. 
  2.2698 +
  2.2699 +They hanged at Tyburn, in those days, so the street outside Newgate 
  2.2700 +had not obtained one infamous notoriety that has since attached to it. 
  2.2701 +But, the gaol was a vile place, in which most kinds of debauchery and 
  2.2702 +villainy were practised, and where dire diseases were bred, that came in- 
  2.2703 +to court with the prisoners, and sometimes rushed straight from the dock 
  2.2704 +at my Lord Chief Justice himself, and pulled him off the bench. It had 
  2.2705 +more than once happened, that the Judge in the black cap pronounced 
  2.2706 +his own doom as certainly as the prisoner's, and even died before him. 
  2.2707 +For the rest, the Old Bailey was famous as a kind of deadly inn-yard, 
  2.2708 +from which pale travellers set out continually, in carts and coaches, on a 
  2.2709 +violent passage into the other world: traversing some two miles and a 
  2.2710 +half of public street and road, and shaming few good citizens, if any. So 
  2.2711 +powerful is use, and so desirable to be good use in the beginning. It was 
  2.2712 +famous, too, for the pillory, a wise old institution, that inflicted a punish- 
  2.2713 +ment of which no one could foresee the extent; also, for the whipping- 
  2.2714 +post, another dear old institution, very humanising and softening to be- 
  2.2715 +hold in action; also, for extensive transactions in blood-money, another 
  2.2716 +fragment of ancestral wisdom, systematically leading to the most fright- 
  2.2717 +ful mercenary crimes that could be committed under Heaven. Altogeth- 
  2.2718 +er, the Old Bailey, at that date, was a choice illustration of the precept, 
  2.2719 +
  2.2720 +
  2.2721 +
  2.2722 +56 
  2.2723 +
  2.2724 +
  2.2725 +
  2.2726 +that "Whatever is is right;" an aphorism that would be as final as it is 
  2.2727 +lazy, did it not include the troublesome consequence, that nothing that 
  2.2728 +ever was, was wrong. 
  2.2729 +
  2.2730 +Making his way through the tainted crowd, dispersed up and down 
  2.2731 +this hideous scene of action, with the skill of a man accustomed to make 
  2.2732 +his way quietly, the messenger found out the door he sought, and 
  2.2733 +handed in his letter through a trap in it. For, people then paid to see the 
  2.2734 +play at the Old Bailey, just as they paid to see the play in Bedlam - only 
  2.2735 +the former entertainment was much the dearer. Therefore, all the Old 
  2.2736 +Bailey doors were well guarded - except, indeed, the social doors by 
  2.2737 +which the criminals got there, and those were always left wide open. 
  2.2738 +
  2.2739 +After some delay and demur, the door grudgingly turned on its hinges 
  2.2740 +a very little way, and allowed Mr. Jerry Cruncher to squeeze himself into 
  2.2741 +court. 
  2.2742 +
  2.2743 +"What's on?" he asked, in a whisper, of the man he found himself next 
  2.2744 +to. 
  2.2745 +
  2.2746 +"Nothing yet." 
  2.2747 +
  2.2748 +"What's coming on?" 
  2.2749 +
  2.2750 +"The Treason case." 
  2.2751 +
  2.2752 +"The quartering one, eh?" 
  2.2753 +
  2.2754 +"Ah!" returned the man, with a relish; "he'll be drawn on a hurdle to 
  2.2755 +be half hanged, and then he'll be taken down and sliced before his own 
  2.2756 +face, and then his inside will be taken out and burnt while he looks on, 
  2.2757 +and then his head will be chopped off, and he'll be cut into quarters. 
  2.2758 +That's the sentence." 
  2.2759 +
  2.2760 +"If he's found Guilty, you mean to say?" Jerry added, by way of 
  2.2761 +proviso. 
  2.2762 +
  2.2763 +"Oh! they'll find him guilty," said the other. "Don't you be afraid of 
  2.2764 +that." 
  2.2765 +
  2.2766 +Mr. Cruncher's attention was here diverted to the door-keeper, whom 
  2.2767 +he saw making his way to Mr. Lorry, with the note in his hand. Mr. 
  2.2768 +Lorry sat at a table, among the gentlemen in wigs: not far from a wigged 
  2.2769 +gentleman, the prisoner's counsel, who had a great bundle of papers be- 
  2.2770 +fore him: and nearly opposite another wigged gentleman with his hands 
  2.2771 +in his pockets, whose whole attention, when Mr. Cruncher looked at him 
  2.2772 +then or afterwards, seemed to be concentrated on the ceiling of the court. 
  2.2773 +After some gruff coughing and rubbing of his chin and signing with his 
  2.2774 +
  2.2775 +
  2.2776 +
  2.2777 +57 
  2.2778 +
  2.2779 +
  2.2780 +
  2.2781 +hand, Jerry attracted the notice of Mr. Lorry, who had stood up to look 
  2.2782 +for him, and who quietly nodded and sat down again. 
  2.2783 +
  2.2784 +"What's he got to do with the case?" asked the man he had spoken 
  2.2785 +with. 
  2.2786 +
  2.2787 +"Blest if I know," said Jerry. 
  2.2788 +
  2.2789 +"What have you got to do with it, then, if a person may inquire?" 
  2.2790 +
  2.2791 +"Blest if I know that either," said Jerry. 
  2.2792 +
  2.2793 +The entrance of the Judge, and a consequent great stir and settling 
  2.2794 +down in the court, stopped the dialogue. Presently, the dock became the 
  2.2795 +central point of interest. Two gaolers, who had been standing there, 
  2.2796 +wont out, and the prisoner was brought in, and put to the bar. 
  2.2797 +
  2.2798 +Everybody present, except the one wigged gentleman who looked at 
  2.2799 +the ceiling, stared at him. All the human breath in the place, rolled at 
  2.2800 +him, like a sea, or a wind, or a fire. Eager faces strained round pillars and 
  2.2801 +corners, to get a sight of him; spectators in back rows stood up, not to 
  2.2802 +miss a hair of him; people on the floor of the court, laid their hands on 
  2.2803 +the shoulders of the people before them, to help themselves, at any- 
  2.2804 +body's cost, to a view of him - stood a-tiptoe, got upon ledges, stood 
  2.2805 +upon next to nothing, to see every inch of him. Conspicuous among 
  2.2806 +these latter, like an animated bit of the spiked wall of Newgate, Jerry 
  2.2807 +stood: aiming at the prisoner the beery breath of a whet he had taken as 
  2.2808 +he came along, and discharging it to mingle with the waves of other 
  2.2809 +beer, and gin, and tea, and coffee, and what not, that flowed at him, and 
  2.2810 +already broke upon the great windows behind him in an impure mist 
  2.2811 +and rain. 
  2.2812 +
  2.2813 +The object of all this staring and blaring, was a young man of about 
  2.2814 +five-and-twenty, well-grown and well-looking, with a sunburnt cheek 
  2.2815 +and a dark eye. His condition was that of a young gentleman. He was 
  2.2816 +plainly dressed in black, or very dark grey, and his hair, which was long 
  2.2817 +and dark, was gathered in a ribbon at the back of his neck; more to be 
  2.2818 +out of his way than for ornament. As an emotion of the mind will ex- 
  2.2819 +press itself through any covering of the body, so the paleness which his 
  2.2820 +situation engendered came through the brown upon his cheek, showing 
  2.2821 +the soul to be stronger than the sun. He was otherwise quite self-pos- 
  2.2822 +sessed, bowed to the Judge, and stood quiet. 
  2.2823 +
  2.2824 +The sort of interest with which this man was stared and breathed at, 
  2.2825 +was not a sort that elevated humanity. Had he stood in peril of a less 
  2.2826 +horrible sentence - had there been a chance of any one of its savage 
  2.2827 +
  2.2828 +
  2.2829 +
  2.2830 +58 
  2.2831 +
  2.2832 +
  2.2833 +
  2.2834 +details being spared - by just so much would he have lost in his fascina- 
  2.2835 +tion. The form that was to be doomed to be so shamefully mangled, was 
  2.2836 +the sight; the immortal creature that was to be so butchered and torn 
  2.2837 +asunder, yielded the sensation. Whatever gloss the various spectators 
  2.2838 +put upon the interest, according to their several arts and powers of self- 
  2.2839 +deceit, the interest was, at the root of it, Ogreish. 
  2.2840 +
  2.2841 +Silence in the court! Charles Darnay had yesterday pleaded Not Guilty 
  2.2842 +to an indictment denouncing him (with infinite jingle and jangle) for that 
  2.2843 +he was a false traitor to our serene, illustrious, excellent, and so forth, 
  2.2844 +prince, our Lord the King, by reason of his having, on divers occasions, 
  2.2845 +and by divers means and ways, assisted Lewis, the French King, in his 
  2.2846 +wars against our said serene, illustrious, excellent, and so forth; that was 
  2.2847 +to say, by coming and going, between the dominions of our said serene, 
  2.2848 +illustrious, excellent, and so forth, and those of the said French Lewis, 
  2.2849 +and wickedly, falsely, traitorously, and otherwise evil-adverbiously, re- 
  2.2850 +vealing to the said French Lewis what forces our said serene, illustrious, 
  2.2851 +excellent, and so forth, had in preparation to send to Canada and North 
  2.2852 +America. This much, Jerry, with his head becoming more and more 
  2.2853 +spiky as the law terms bristled it, made out with huge satisfaction, and 
  2.2854 +so arrived circuitously at the understanding that the aforesaid, and over 
  2.2855 +and over again aforesaid, Charles Darnay, stood there before him upon 
  2.2856 +his trial; that the jury were swearing in; and that Mr. Attorney-General 
  2.2857 +was making ready to speak. 
  2.2858 +
  2.2859 +The accused, who was (and who knew he was) being mentally 
  2.2860 +hanged, beheaded, and quartered, by everybody there, neither flinched 
  2.2861 +from the situation, nor assumed any theatrical air in it. He was quiet and 
  2.2862 +attentive; watched the opening proceedings with a grave interest; and 
  2.2863 +stood with his hands resting on the slab of wood before him, so com- 
  2.2864 +posedly, that they had not displaced a leaf of the herbs with which it was 
  2.2865 +strewn. The court was all bestrewn with herbs and sprinkled with vineg- 
  2.2866 +ar, as a precaution against gaol air and gaol fever. 
  2.2867 +
  2.2868 +Over the prisoner's head there was a mirror, to throw the light down 
  2.2869 +upon him. Crowds of the wicked and the wretched had been reflected in 
  2.2870 +it, and had passed from its surface and this earth's together. Haunted in 
  2.2871 +a most ghastly manner that abominable place would have been, if the 
  2.2872 +glass could ever have rendered back its reflexions, as the ocean is one 
  2.2873 +day to give up its dead. Some passing thought of the infamy and dis- 
  2.2874 +grace for which it had been reserved, may have struck the prisoner's 
  2.2875 +mind. Be that as it may, a change in his position making him conscious 
  2.2876 +
  2.2877 +
  2.2878 +
  2.2879 +59 
  2.2880 +
  2.2881 +
  2.2882 +
  2.2883 +of a bar of light across his face, he looked up; and when he saw the glass 
  2.2884 +his face flushed, and his right hand pushed the herbs away. 
  2.2885 +
  2.2886 +It happened, that the action turned his face to that side of the court 
  2.2887 +which was on his left. About on a level with his eyes, there sat, in that 
  2.2888 +corner of the Judge's bench, two persons upon whom his look immedi- 
  2.2889 +ately rested; so immediately, and so much to the changing of his aspect, 
  2.2890 +that all the eyes that were tamed upon him, turned to them. 
  2.2891 +
  2.2892 +The spectators saw in the two figures, a young lady of little more than 
  2.2893 +twenty, and a gentleman who was evidently her father; a man of a very 
  2.2894 +remarkable appearance in respect of the absolute whiteness of his hair, 
  2.2895 +and a certain indescribable intensity of face: not of an active kind, but 
  2.2896 +pondering and self-communing. When this expression was upon him, he 
  2.2897 +looked as if he were old; but when it was stirred and broken up - as it 
  2.2898 +was now, in a moment, on his speaking to his daughter - he became a 
  2.2899 +handsome man, not past the prime of life. 
  2.2900 +
  2.2901 +His daughter had one of her hands drawn through his arm, as she sat 
  2.2902 +by him, and the other pressed upon it. She had drawn close to him, in 
  2.2903 +her dread of the scene, and in her pity for the prisoner. Her forehead had 
  2.2904 +been strikingly expressive of an engrossing terror and compassion that 
  2.2905 +saw nothing but the peril of the accused. This had been so very notice- 
  2.2906 +able, so very powerfully and naturally shown, that starers who had had 
  2.2907 +no pity for him were touched by her; and the whisper went about, "Who 
  2.2908 +are they?" 
  2.2909 +
  2.2910 +Jerry, the messenger, who had made his own observations, in his own 
  2.2911 +manner, and who had been sucking the rust off his fingers in his absorp- 
  2.2912 +tion, stretched his neck to hear who they were. The crowd about him had 
  2.2913 +pressed and passed the inquiry on to the nearest attendant, and from 
  2.2914 +him it had been more slowly pressed and passed back; at last it got to 
  2.2915 +Jerry: 
  2.2916 +
  2.2917 +"Witnesses." 
  2.2918 +
  2.2919 +"For which side?" 
  2.2920 +
  2.2921 +"Against." 
  2.2922 +
  2.2923 +"Against what side?" 
  2.2924 +
  2.2925 +"The prisoner's." 
  2.2926 +
  2.2927 +The Judge, whose eyes had gone in the general direction, recalled 
  2.2928 +them, leaned back in his seat, and looked steadily at the man whose life 
  2.2929 +was in his hand, as Mr. Attorney-General rose to spin the rope, grind the 
  2.2930 +axe, and hammer the nails into the scaffold. 
  2.2931 +
  2.2932 +
  2.2933 +
  2.2934 +60 
  2.2935 +
  2.2936 +
  2.2937 +
  2.2938 +Chapter 
  2.2939 +
  2.2940 +
  2.2941 +
  2.2942 +3 
  2.2943 +
  2.2944 +
  2.2945 +
  2.2946 +A Disappointment 
  2.2947 +
  2.2948 +Mr. Attorney-General had to inform the jury, that the prisoner before 
  2.2949 +them, though young in years, was old in the treasonable practices which 
  2.2950 +claimed the forfeit of his life. That this correspondence with the public 
  2.2951 +enemy was not a correspondence of to-day, or of yesterday, or even of 
  2.2952 +last year, or of the year before. That, it was certain the prisoner had, for 
  2.2953 +longer than that, been in the habit of passing and repassing between 
  2.2954 +France and England, on secret business of which he could give no honest 
  2.2955 +account. That, if it were in the nature of traitorous ways to thrive (which 
  2.2956 +happily it never was), the real wickedness and guilt of his business 
  2.2957 +might have remained undiscovered. That Providence, however, had put 
  2.2958 +it into the heart of a person who was beyond fear and beyond reproach, 
  2.2959 +to ferret out the nature of the prisoner's schemes, and, struck with hor- 
  2.2960 +ror, to disclose them to his Majesty's Chief Secretary of State and most 
  2.2961 +honourable Privy Council. That, this patriot would be produced before 
  2.2962 +them. That, his position and attitude were, on the whole, sublime. That, 
  2.2963 +he had been the prisoner's friend, but, at once in an auspicious and an 
  2.2964 +evil hour detecting his infamy, had resolved to immolate the traitor he 
  2.2965 +could no longer cherish in his bosom, on the sacred altar of his country. 
  2.2966 +That, if statues were decreed in Britain, as in ancient Greece and Rome, 
  2.2967 +to public benefactors, this shining citizen would assuredly have had one. 
  2.2968 +That, as they were not so decreed, he probably would not have one. That, 
  2.2969 +Virtue, as had been observed by the poets (in many passages which he 
  2.2970 +well knew the jury would have, word for word, at the tips of their 
  2.2971 +tongues; whereat the jury's countenances displayed a guilty conscious- 
  2.2972 +ness that they knew nothing about the passages), was in a manner conta- 
  2.2973 +gious; more especially the bright virtue known as patriotism, or love of 
  2.2974 +country. That, the lofty example of this immaculate and unimpeachable 
  2.2975 +witness for the Crown, to refer to whom however unworthily was an 
  2.2976 +honour, had communicated itself to the prisoner's servant, and had en- 
  2.2977 +gendered in him a holy determination to examine his master's table- 
  2.2978 +
  2.2979 +
  2.2980 +
  2.2981 +Si 
  2.2982 +
  2.2983 +
  2.2984 +
  2.2985 +drawers and pockets, and secrete his papers. That, he (Mr. Attorney- 
  2.2986 +General) was prepared to hear some disparagement attempted of this 
  2.2987 +admirable servant; but that, in a general way, he preferred him to his 
  2.2988 +(Mr. Attorney-General's) brothers and sisters, and honoured him more 
  2.2989 +than his (Mr. Attorney-General's) father and mother. That, he called with 
  2.2990 +confidence on the jury to come and do likewise. That, the evidence of 
  2.2991 +these two witnesses, coupled with the documents of their discovering 
  2.2992 +that would be produced, would show the prisoner to have been fur- 
  2.2993 +nished with lists of his Majesty's forces, and of their disposition and pre- 
  2.2994 +paration, both by sea and land, and would leave no doubt that he had 
  2.2995 +habitually conveyed such information to a hostile power. That, these lists 
  2.2996 +could not be proved to be in the prisoner's handwriting; but that it was 
  2.2997 +all the same; that, indeed, it was rather the better for the prosecution, as 
  2.2998 +showing the prisoner to be artful in his precautions. That, the proof 
  2.2999 +would go back five years, and would show the prisoner already engaged 
  2.3000 +in these pernicious missions, within a few weeks before the date of the 
  2.3001 +very first action fought between the British troops and the Americans. 
  2.3002 +That, for these reasons, the jury, being a loyal jury (as he knew they 
  2.3003 +were), and being a responsible jury (as they knew they were), must pos- 
  2.3004 +itively find the prisoner Guilty, and make an end of him, whether they 
  2.3005 +liked it or not. That, they never could lay their heads upon their pillows; 
  2.3006 +that, they never could tolerate the idea of their wives laying their heads 
  2.3007 +upon their pillows; that, they never could endure the notion of their chil- 
  2.3008 +dren laying their heads upon their pillows; in short, that there never 
  2.3009 +more could be, for them or theirs, any laying of heads upon pillows at 
  2.3010 +all, unless the prisoner's head was taken off. That head Mr. Attorney- 
  2.3011 +General concluded by demanding of them, in the name of everything he 
  2.3012 +could think of with a round turn in it, and on the faith of his solemn as- 
  2.3013 +severation that he already considered the prisoner as good as dead and 
  2.3014 +gone. 
  2.3015 +
  2.3016 +When the Attorney-General ceased, a buzz arose in the court as if a 
  2.3017 +cloud of great blue-flies were swarming about the prisoner, in anticipa- 
  2.3018 +tion of what he was soon to become. When toned down again, the unim- 
  2.3019 +peachable patriot appeared in the witness-box. 
  2.3020 +
  2.3021 +Mr. Solicitor-General then, following his leader's lead, examined the 
  2.3022 +patriot: John Barsad, gentleman, by name. The story of his pure soul was 
  2.3023 +exactly what Mr. Attorney-General had described it to be - perhaps, if it 
  2.3024 +had a fault, a little too exactly. Having released his noble bosom of its 
  2.3025 +burden, he would have modestly withdrawn himself, but that the 
  2.3026 +wigged gentleman with the papers before him, sitting not far from Mr. 
  2.3027 +
  2.3028 +
  2.3029 +
  2.3030 +62 
  2.3031 +
  2.3032 +
  2.3033 +
  2.3034 +Lorry, begged to ask him a few questions. The wigged gentleman sitting 
  2.3035 +opposite, still looking at the ceiling of the court. 
  2.3036 +
  2.3037 +Had he ever been a spy himself? No, he scorned the base insinuation. 
  2.3038 +What did he live upon? His property. Where was his property? He 
  2.3039 +didn't precisely remember where it was. What was it? No business of 
  2.3040 +anybody's. Had he inherited it? Yes, he had. From whom? Distant rela- 
  2.3041 +tion. Very distant? Rather. Ever been in prison? Certainly not. Never in a 
  2.3042 +debtors' prison? Didn't see what that had to do with it. Never in a debt- 
  2.3043 +ors' prison? - Come, once again. Never? Yes. How many times? Two or 
  2.3044 +three times. Not five or six? Perhaps. Of what profession? Gentleman. 
  2.3045 +Ever been kicked? Might have been. Frequently? No. Ever kicked down- 
  2.3046 +stairs? Decidedly not; once received a kick on the top of a staircase, and 
  2.3047 +fell downstairs of his own accord. Kicked on that occasion for cheating at 
  2.3048 +dice? Something to that effect was said by the intoxicated liar who com- 
  2.3049 +mitted the assault, but it was not true. Swear it was not true? Positively. 
  2.3050 +Ever live by cheating at play? Never. Ever live by play? Not more than 
  2.3051 +other gentlemen do. Ever borrow money of the prisoner? Yes. Ever pay 
  2.3052 +him? No. Was not this intimacy with the prisoner, in reality a very slight 
  2.3053 +one, forced upon the prisoner in coaches, inns, and packets? No. Sure he 
  2.3054 +saw the prisoner with these lists? Certain. Knew no more about the lists? 
  2.3055 +No. Had not procured them himself, for instance? No. Expect to get any- 
  2.3056 +thing by this evidence? No. Not in regular government pay and employ- 
  2.3057 +ment, to lay traps? Oh dear no. Or to do anything? Oh dear no. Swear 
  2.3058 +that? Over and over again. No motives but motives of sheer patriotism? 
  2.3059 +None whatever. 
  2.3060 +
  2.3061 +The virtuous servant, Roger Cly, swore his way through the case at a 
  2.3062 +great rate. He had taken service with the prisoner, in good faith and sim- 
  2.3063 +plicity, four years ago. He had asked the prisoner, aboard the Calais 
  2.3064 +packet, if he wanted a handy fellow, and the prisoner had engaged him. 
  2.3065 +He had not asked the prisoner to take the handy fellow as an act of char- 
  2.3066 +ity - never thought of such a thing. He began to have suspicions of the 
  2.3067 +prisoner, and to keep an eye upon him, soon afterwards. In arranging his 
  2.3068 +clothes, while travelling, he had seen similar lists to these in the prison- 
  2.3069 +er's pockets, over and over again. He had taken these lists from the 
  2.3070 +drawer of the prisoner's desk. He had not put them there first. He had 
  2.3071 +seen the prisoner show these identical lists to French gentlemen at Cal- 
  2.3072 +ais, and similar lists to French gentlemen, both at Calais and Boulogne. 
  2.3073 +He loved his country, and couldn't bear it, and had given information. 
  2.3074 +He had never been suspected of stealing a silver tea-pot; he had been 
  2.3075 +maligned respecting a mustard-pot, but it turned out to be only a plated 
  2.3076 +
  2.3077 +
  2.3078 +
  2.3079 +63 
  2.3080 +
  2.3081 +
  2.3082 +
  2.3083 +one. He had known the last witness seven or eight years; that was merely 
  2.3084 +a coincidence. He didn't call it a particularly curious coincidence; most 
  2.3085 +coincidences were curious. Neither did he call it a curious coincidence 
  2.3086 +that true patriotism was HIS only motive too. He was a true Briton, and 
  2.3087 +hoped there were many like him. 
  2.3088 +
  2.3089 +The blue-flies buzzed again, and Mr. Attorney-General called Mr. Jar- 
  2.3090 +vis Lorry. 
  2.3091 +
  2.3092 +"Mr. Jarvis Lorry, are you a clerk in Tellson's bank?" 
  2.3093 +
  2.3094 +"I am." 
  2.3095 +
  2.3096 +"On a certain Friday night in November one thousand seven hundred 
  2.3097 +and seventy-five, did business occasion you to travel between London 
  2.3098 +and Dover by the mail?" 
  2.3099 +
  2.3100 +"It did." 
  2.3101 +
  2.3102 +"Were there any other passengers in the mail?" 
  2.3103 +
  2.3104 +"Two." 
  2.3105 +
  2.3106 +"Did they alight on the road in the course of the night?" 
  2.3107 +
  2.3108 +"They did." 
  2.3109 +
  2.3110 +"Mr. Lorry, look upon the prisoner. Was he one of those two 
  2.3111 +passengers?" 
  2.3112 +
  2.3113 +"I cannot undertake to say that he was." 
  2.3114 +
  2.3115 +"Does he resemble either of these two passengers?" 
  2.3116 +
  2.3117 +"Both were so wrapped up, and the night was so dark, and we were 
  2.3118 +all so reserved, that I cannot undertake to say even that." 
  2.3119 +
  2.3120 +"Mr. Lorry, look again upon the prisoner. Supposing him wrapped up 
  2.3121 +as those two passengers were, is there anything in his bulk and stature to 
  2.3122 +render it unlikely that he was one of them?" 
  2.3123 +
  2.3124 +"No." 
  2.3125 +
  2.3126 +"You will not swear, Mr. Lorry, that he was not one of them?" 
  2.3127 +
  2.3128 +"No." 
  2.3129 +
  2.3130 +"So at least you say he may have been one of them?" 
  2.3131 +
  2.3132 +"Yes. Except that I remember them both to have been - like myself - 
  2.3133 +timorous of highwaymen, and the prisoner has not a timorous air." 
  2.3134 +
  2.3135 +"Did you ever see a counterfeit of timidity, Mr. Lorry?" 
  2.3136 +
  2.3137 +"I certainly have seen that." 
  2.3138 +
  2.3139 +
  2.3140 +
  2.3141 +64 
  2.3142 +
  2.3143 +
  2.3144 +
  2.3145 +"Mr. Lorry, look once more upon the prisoner. Have you seen him, to 
  2.3146 +your certain knowledge, before?" 
  2.3147 +
  2.3148 +"I have." 
  2.3149 +
  2.3150 +"When?" 
  2.3151 +
  2.3152 +"I was returning from France a few days afterwards, and, at Calais, the 
  2.3153 +prisoner came on board the packet-ship in which I returned, and made 
  2.3154 +the voyage with me." 
  2.3155 +
  2.3156 +"At what hour did he come on board?" 
  2.3157 +
  2.3158 +"At a little after midnight." 
  2.3159 +
  2.3160 +"In the dead of the night. Was he the only passenger who came on 
  2.3161 +board at that untimely hour?" 
  2.3162 +
  2.3163 +"He happened to be the only one." 
  2.3164 +
  2.3165 +"Never mind about 'happening/ Mr. Lorry. He was the only passen- 
  2.3166 +ger who came on board in the dead of the night?" 
  2.3167 +
  2.3168 +"He was." 
  2.3169 +
  2.3170 +"Were you travelling alone, Mr. Lorry, or with any companion?" 
  2.3171 +
  2.3172 +"With two companions. A gentleman and lady. They are here." 
  2.3173 +
  2.3174 +"They are here. Had you any conversation with the prisoner?" 
  2.3175 +
  2.3176 +"Hardly any. The weather was stormy, and the passage long and 
  2.3177 +rough, and I lay on a sofa, almost from shore to shore." 
  2.3178 +
  2.3179 +"Miss Manette!" 
  2.3180 +
  2.3181 +The young lady, to whom all eyes had been turned before, and were 
  2.3182 +now turned again, stood up where she had sat. Her father rose with her, 
  2.3183 +and kept her hand drawn through his arm. 
  2.3184 +
  2.3185 +"Miss Manette, look upon the prisoner." 
  2.3186 +
  2.3187 +To be confronted with such pity, and such earnest youth and beauty, 
  2.3188 +was far more trying to the accused than to be confronted with all the 
  2.3189 +crowd. Standing, as it were, apart with her on the edge of his grave, not 
  2.3190 +all the staring curiosity that looked on, could, for the moment, nerve him 
  2.3191 +to remain quite still. His hurried right hand parcelled out the herbs be- 
  2.3192 +fore him into imaginary beds of flowers in a garden; and his efforts to 
  2.3193 +control and steady his breathing shook the lips from which the colour 
  2.3194 +rushed to his heart. The buzz of the great flies was loud again. 
  2.3195 +
  2.3196 +"Miss Manette, have you seen the prisoner before?" 
  2.3197 +
  2.3198 +"Yes, sir." 
  2.3199 +
  2.3200 +
  2.3201 +
  2.3202 +65 
  2.3203 +
  2.3204 +
  2.3205 +
  2.3206 +'Where?" 
  2.3207 +
  2.3208 +'On board of the packet-ship just now referred to, sir, and on the same 
  2.3209 +
  2.3210 +
  2.3211 +
  2.3212 +occasion." 
  2.3213 +
  2.3214 +
  2.3215 +
  2.3216 +"You are the young lady just now referred to?" 
  2.3217 +
  2.3218 +"O! most unhappily, I am!" 
  2.3219 +
  2.3220 +The plaintive tone of her compassion merged into the less musical 
  2.3221 +voice of the Judge, as he said something fiercely: "Answer the questions 
  2.3222 +put to you, and make no remark upon them." 
  2.3223 +
  2.3224 +"Miss Manette, had you any conversation with the prisoner on that 
  2.3225 +passage across the Channel?" 
  2.3226 +
  2.3227 +"Yes, sir." 
  2.3228 +
  2.3229 +"Recall it." 
  2.3230 +
  2.3231 +In the midst of a profound stillness, she faintly began: "When the gen- 
  2.3232 +tleman came on board - " 
  2.3233 +
  2.3234 +"Do you mean the prisoner?" inquired the Judge, knitting his brows. 
  2.3235 +
  2.3236 +"Yes, my Lord." 
  2.3237 +
  2.3238 +"Then say the prisoner." 
  2.3239 +
  2.3240 +"When the prisoner came on board, he noticed that my father," turn- 
  2.3241 +ing her eyes lovingly to him as he stood beside her, "was much fatigued 
  2.3242 +and in a very weak state of health. My father was so reduced that I was 
  2.3243 +afraid to take him out of the air, and I had made a bed for him on the 
  2.3244 +deck near the cabin steps, and I sat on the deck at his side to take care of 
  2.3245 +him. There were no other passengers that night, but we four. The prison- 
  2.3246 +er was so good as to beg permission to advise me how I could shelter my 
  2.3247 +father from the wind and weather, better than I had done. I had not 
  2.3248 +known how to do it well, not understanding how the wind would set 
  2.3249 +when we were out of the harbour. He did it for me. He expressed great 
  2.3250 +gentleness and kindness for my father's state, and I am sure he felt it. 
  2.3251 +That was the manner of our beginning to speak together." 
  2.3252 +
  2.3253 +"Let me interrupt you for a moment. Had he come on board alone?" 
  2.3254 +
  2.3255 +"No." 
  2.3256 +
  2.3257 +"How many were with him?" 
  2.3258 +
  2.3259 +"Two French gentlemen." 
  2.3260 +
  2.3261 +"Had they conferred together?" 
  2.3262 +
  2.3263 +"They had conferred together until the last moment, when it was ne- 
  2.3264 +cessary for the French gentlemen to be landed in their boat." 
  2.3265 +
  2.3266 +
  2.3267 +
  2.3268 +66 
  2.3269 +
  2.3270 +
  2.3271 +
  2.3272 +"Had any papers been handed about among them, similar to these 
  2.3273 +lists?" 
  2.3274 +
  2.3275 +"Some papers had been handed about among them, but I don't know 
  2.3276 +what papers." 
  2.3277 +
  2.3278 +"Like these in shape and size?" 
  2.3279 +
  2.3280 +"Possibly, but indeed I don't know, although they stood whispering 
  2.3281 +very near to me: because they stood at the top of the cabin steps to have 
  2.3282 +the light of the lamp that was hanging there; it was a dull lamp, and they 
  2.3283 +spoke very low, and I did not hear what they said, and saw only that 
  2.3284 +they looked at papers." 
  2.3285 +
  2.3286 +"Now, to the prisoner's conversation, Miss Manette." 
  2.3287 +
  2.3288 +"The prisoner was as open in his confidence with me - which arose 
  2.3289 +out of my helpless situation - as he was kind, and good, and useful to 
  2.3290 +my father. I hope," bursting into tears, "I may not repay him by doing 
  2.3291 +him harm to-day." 
  2.3292 +
  2.3293 +Buzzing from the blue-flies. 
  2.3294 +
  2.3295 +"Miss Manette, if the prisoner does not perfectly understand that you 
  2.3296 +give the evidence which it is your duty to give - which you must give - 
  2.3297 +and which you cannot escape from giving - with great unwillingness, he 
  2.3298 +is the only person present in that condition. Please to go on." 
  2.3299 +
  2.3300 +"He told me that he was travelling on business of a delicate and diffi- 
  2.3301 +cult nature, which might get people into trouble, and that he was there- 
  2.3302 +fore travelling under an assumed name. He said that this business had, 
  2.3303 +within a few days, taken him to France, and might, at intervals, take him 
  2.3304 +backwards and forwards between France and England for a long time to 
  2.3305 +come." 
  2.3306 +
  2.3307 +"Did he say anything about America, Miss Manette? Be particular." 
  2.3308 +
  2.3309 +"He tried to explain to me how that quarrel had arisen, and he said 
  2.3310 +that, so far as he could judge, it was a wrong and foolish one on Eng- 
  2.3311 +land's part. He added, in a jesting way, that perhaps George Washington 
  2.3312 +might gain almost as great a name in history as George the Third. But 
  2.3313 +there was no harm in his way of saying this: it was said laughingly, and 
  2.3314 +to beguile the time." 
  2.3315 +
  2.3316 +Any strongly marked expression of face on the part of a chief actor in a 
  2.3317 +scene of great interest to whom many eyes are directed, will be uncon- 
  2.3318 +sciously imitated by the spectators. Her forehead was painfully anxious 
  2.3319 +and intent as she gave this evidence, and, in the pauses when she 
  2.3320 +stopped for the Judge to write it down, watched its effect upon the 
  2.3321 +
  2.3322 +
  2.3323 +
  2.3324 +67 
  2.3325 +
  2.3326 +
  2.3327 +
  2.3328 +counsel for and against. Among the lookers-on there was the same ex- 
  2.3329 +pression in all quarters of the court; insomuch, that a great majority of 
  2.3330 +the foreheads there, might have been mirrors reflecting the witness, 
  2.3331 +when the Judge looked up from his notes to glare at that tremendous 
  2.3332 +heresy about George Washington. 
  2.3333 +
  2.3334 +Mr. Attorney-General now signified to my Lord, that he deemed it ne- 
  2.3335 +cessary, as a matter of precaution and form, to call the young lady's fath- 
  2.3336 +er, Doctor Manette. Who was called accordingly. 
  2.3337 +
  2.3338 +"Doctor Manette, look upon the prisoner. Have you ever seen him 
  2.3339 +before?" 
  2.3340 +
  2.3341 +"Once. When he caged at my lodgings in London. Some three years, or 
  2.3342 +three years and a half ago." 
  2.3343 +
  2.3344 +"Can you identify him as your fellow-passenger on board the packet, 
  2.3345 +or speak to his conversation with your daughter?" 
  2.3346 +
  2.3347 +"Sir, I can do neither." 
  2.3348 +
  2.3349 +"Is there any particular and special reason for your being unable to do 
  2.3350 +either?" 
  2.3351 +
  2.3352 +He answered, in a low voice, "There is." 
  2.3353 +
  2.3354 +"Has it been your misfortune to undergo a long imprisonment, 
  2.3355 +without trial, or even accusation, in your native country, Doctor 
  2.3356 +Manette?" 
  2.3357 +
  2.3358 +He answered, in a tone that went to every heart, "A long 
  2.3359 +imprisonment." 
  2.3360 +
  2.3361 +"Were you newly released on the occasion in question?" 
  2.3362 +
  2.3363 +"They tell me so." 
  2.3364 +
  2.3365 +"Have you no remembrance of the occasion?" 
  2.3366 +
  2.3367 +"None. My mind is a blank, from some time - I cannot even say what 
  2.3368 +time - when I employed myself, in my captivity, in making shoes, to the 
  2.3369 +time when I found myself living in London with my dear daughter here. 
  2.3370 +She had become familiar to me, when a gracious God restored my fac- 
  2.3371 +ulties; but, I am quite unable even to say how she had become familiar. I 
  2.3372 +have no remembrance of the process." 
  2.3373 +
  2.3374 +Mr. Attorney-General sat down, and the father and daughter sat down 
  2.3375 +together. 
  2.3376 +
  2.3377 +A singular circumstance then arose in the case. The object in hand be- 
  2.3378 +ing to show that the prisoner went down, with some fellow-plotter un- 
  2.3379 +tracked, in the Dover mail on that Friday night in November five years 
  2.3380 +
  2.3381 +
  2.3382 +
  2.3383 +68 
  2.3384 +
  2.3385 +
  2.3386 +
  2.3387 +ago, and got out of the mail in the night, as a blind, at a place where he 
  2.3388 +did not remain, but from which he travelled back some dozen miles or 
  2.3389 +more, to a garrison and dockyard, and there collected information; a wit- 
  2.3390 +ness was called to identify him as having been at the precise time re- 
  2.3391 +quired, in the coffee-room of an hotel in that garrison-and-dockyard 
  2.3392 +town, waiting for another person. The prisoner's counsel was cross-ex- 
  2.3393 +amining this witness with no result, except that he had never seen the 
  2.3394 +prisoner on any other occasion, when the wigged gentleman who had all 
  2.3395 +this time been looking at the ceiling of the court, wrote a word or two on 
  2.3396 +a little piece of paper, screwed it up, and tossed it to him. Opening this 
  2.3397 +piece of paper in the next pause, the counsel looked with great attention 
  2.3398 +and curiosity at the prisoner. 
  2.3399 +
  2.3400 +"You say again you are quite sure that it was the prisoner?" 
  2.3401 +
  2.3402 +The witness was quite sure. 
  2.3403 +
  2.3404 +"Did you ever see anybody very like the prisoner?" 
  2.3405 +
  2.3406 +Not so like (the witness said) as that he could be mistaken. 
  2.3407 +
  2.3408 +"Look well upon that gentleman, my learned friend there," pointing to 
  2.3409 +him who had tossed the paper over, "and then look well upon the pris- 
  2.3410 +oner. How say you? Are they very like each other?" 
  2.3411 +
  2.3412 +Allowing for my learned friend's appearance being careless and slov- 
  2.3413 +enly if not debauched, they were sufficiently like each other to surprise, 
  2.3414 +not only the witness, but everybody present, when they were thus 
  2.3415 +brought into comparison. My Lord being prayed to bid my learned 
  2.3416 +friend lay aside his wig, and giving no very gracious consent, the like- 
  2.3417 +ness became much more remarkable. My Lord inquired of Mr. Stryver 
  2.3418 +(the prisoner's counsel), whether they were next to try Mr. Carton (name 
  2.3419 +of my learned friend) for treason? But, Mr. Stryver replied to my Lord, 
  2.3420 +no; but he would ask the witness to tell him whether what happened 
  2.3421 +once, might happen twice; whether he would have been so confident if 
  2.3422 +he had seen this illustration of his rashness sooner, whether he would be 
  2.3423 +so confident, having seen it; and more. The upshot of which, was, to 
  2.3424 +smash this witness like a crockery vessel, and shiver his part of the case 
  2.3425 +to useless lumber. 
  2.3426 +
  2.3427 +Mr. Cruncher had by this time taken quite a lunch of rust off his fin- 
  2.3428 +gers in his following of the evidence. He had now to attend while Mr. 
  2.3429 +Stryver fitted the prisoner's case on the jury, like a compact suit of 
  2.3430 +clothes; showing them how the patriot, Barsad, was a hired spy and trait- 
  2.3431 +or, an unblushing trafficker in blood, and one of the greatest scoundrels 
  2.3432 +upon earth since accursed Judas - which he certainly did look rather like. 
  2.3433 +
  2.3434 +
  2.3435 +
  2.3436 +69 
  2.3437 +
  2.3438 +
  2.3439 +
  2.3440 +How the virtuous servant, Cly, was his friend and partner, and was 
  2.3441 +worthy to be; how the watchful eyes of those forgers and false swearers 
  2.3442 +had rested on the prisoner as a victim, because some family affairs in 
  2.3443 +France, he being of French extraction, did require his making those pas- 
  2.3444 +sages across the Channel - though what those affairs were, a considera- 
  2.3445 +tion for others who were near and dear to him, forbade him, even for his 
  2.3446 +life, to disclose. How the evidence that had been warped and wrested 
  2.3447 +from the young lady, whose anguish in giving it they had witnessed, 
  2.3448 +came to nothing, involving the mere little innocent gallantries and polite- 
  2.3449 +nesses likely to pass between any young gentleman and young lady so 
  2.3450 +thrown together; - with the exception of that reference to George Wash- 
  2.3451 +ington, which was altogether too extravagant and impossible to be re- 
  2.3452 +garded in any other light than as a monstrous joke. How it would be a 
  2.3453 +weakness in the government to break down in this attempt to practise 
  2.3454 +for popularity on the lowest national antipathies and fears, and therefore 
  2.3455 +Mr. Attorney-General had made the most of it; how, nevertheless, it res- 
  2.3456 +ted upon nothing, save that vile and infamous character of evidence too 
  2.3457 +often disfiguring such cases, and of which the State Trials of this country 
  2.3458 +were full. But, there my Lord interposed (with as grave a face as if it had 
  2.3459 +not been true), saying that he could not sit upon that Bench and suffer 
  2.3460 +those allusions. 
  2.3461 +
  2.3462 +Mr. Stryver then called his few witnesses, and Mr. Cruncher had next 
  2.3463 +to attend while Mr. Attorney-General turned the whole suit of clothes 
  2.3464 +Mr. Stryver had fitted on the jury, inside out; showing how Barsad and 
  2.3465 +Cly were even a hundred times better than he had thought them, and the 
  2.3466 +prisoner a hundred times worse. Lastly, came my Lord himself, turning 
  2.3467 +the suit of clothes, now inside out, now outside in, but on the whole de- 
  2.3468 +cidedly trimming and shaping them into grave-clothes for the prisoner. 
  2.3469 +
  2.3470 +And now, the jury turned to consider, and the great flies swarmed 
  2.3471 +again. 
  2.3472 +
  2.3473 +Mr. Carton, who had so long sat looking at the ceiling of the court, 
  2.3474 +changed neither his place nor his attitude, even in this excitement. While 
  2.3475 +his teamed friend, Mr. Stryver, massing his papers before him, 
  2.3476 +whispered with those who sat near, and from time to time glanced 
  2.3477 +anxiously at the jury; while all the spectators moved more or less, and 
  2.3478 +grouped themselves anew; while even my Lord himself arose from his 
  2.3479 +seat, and slowly paced up and down his platform, not unattended by a 
  2.3480 +suspicion in the minds of the audience that his state was feverish; this 
  2.3481 +one man sat leaning back, with his torn gown half off him, his untidy 
  2.3482 +wig put on just as it had happened to fight on his head after its removal, 
  2.3483 +
  2.3484 +
  2.3485 +
  2.3486 +70 
  2.3487 +
  2.3488 +
  2.3489 +
  2.3490 +his hands in his pockets, and his eyes on the ceiling as they had been all 
  2.3491 +day. Something especially reckless in his demeanour, not only gave him 
  2.3492 +a disreputable look, but so diminished the strong resemblance he un- 
  2.3493 +doubtedly bore to the prisoner (which his momentary earnestness, when 
  2.3494 +they were compared together, had strengthened), that many of the 
  2.3495 +lookers-on, taking note of him now, said to one another they would 
  2.3496 +hardly have thought the two were so alike. Mr. Cruncher made the ob- 
  2.3497 +servation to his next neighbour, and added, "I'd hold half a guinea that 
  2.3498 +he don't get no law-work to do. Don't look like the sort of one to get any, 
  2.3499 +do he?" 
  2.3500 +
  2.3501 +Yet, this Mr. Carton took in more of the details of the scene than he ap- 
  2.3502 +peared to take in; for now, when Miss Manette's head dropped upon her 
  2.3503 +father's breast, he was the first to see it, and to say audibly: "Officer! look 
  2.3504 +to that young lady. Help the gentleman to take her out. Don't you see 
  2.3505 +she will fall!" 
  2.3506 +
  2.3507 +There was much commiseration for her as she was removed, and 
  2.3508 +much sympathy with her father. It had evidently been a great distress to 
  2.3509 +him, to have the days of his imprisonment recalled. He had shown 
  2.3510 +strong internal agitation when he was questioned, and that pondering or 
  2.3511 +brooding look which made him old, had been upon him, like a heavy 
  2.3512 +cloud, ever since. As he passed out, the jury, who had turned back and 
  2.3513 +paused a moment, spoke, through their foreman. 
  2.3514 +
  2.3515 +They were not agreed, and wished to retire. My Lord (perhaps with 
  2.3516 +George Washington on his mind) showed some surprise that they were 
  2.3517 +not agreed, but signified his pleasure that they should retire under watch 
  2.3518 +and ward, and retired himself. The trial had lasted all day, and the lamps 
  2.3519 +in the court were now being lighted. It began to be rumoured that the 
  2.3520 +jury would be out a long while. The spectators dropped off to get re- 
  2.3521 +freshment, and the prisoner withdrew to the back of the dock, and sat 
  2.3522 +down. 
  2.3523 +
  2.3524 +Mr. Lorry, who had gone out when the young lady and her father 
  2.3525 +went out, now reappeared, and beckoned to Jerry: who, in the slackened 
  2.3526 +interest, could easily get near him. 
  2.3527 +
  2.3528 +"Jerry, if you wish to take something to eat, you can. But, keep in the 
  2.3529 +way. You will be sure to hear when the jury come in. Don't be a moment 
  2.3530 +behind them, for I want you to take the verdict back to the bank. You are 
  2.3531 +the quickest messenger I know, and will get to Temple Bar long before I 
  2.3532 +can." 
  2.3533 +
  2.3534 +
  2.3535 +
  2.3536 +71 
  2.3537 +
  2.3538 +
  2.3539 +
  2.3540 +Jerry had just enough forehead to knuckle, and he knuckled it in ac- 
  2.3541 +knowedgment of this communication and a shilling. Mr. Carton came up 
  2.3542 +at the moment, and touched Mr. Lorry on the arm. 
  2.3543 +
  2.3544 +"How is the young lady?" 
  2.3545 +
  2.3546 +"She is greatly distressed; but her father is comforting her, and she 
  2.3547 +feels the better for being out of court." 
  2.3548 +
  2.3549 +"I'll tell the prisoner so. It won't do for a respectable bank gentleman 
  2.3550 +like you, to be seen speaking to him publicly, you know." 
  2.3551 +
  2.3552 +Mr. Lorry reddened as if he were conscious of having debated the 
  2.3553 +point in his mind, and Mr. Carton made his way to the outside of the bar. 
  2.3554 +The way out of court lay in that direction, and Jerry followed him, all 
  2.3555 +eyes, ears, and spikes. 
  2.3556 +
  2.3557 +"Mr. Darnay!" 
  2.3558 +
  2.3559 +The prisoner came forward directly. 
  2.3560 +
  2.3561 +"You will naturally be anxious to hear of the witness, Miss Manette. 
  2.3562 +She will do very well. You have seen the worst of her agitation." 
  2.3563 +
  2.3564 +"I am deeply sorry to have been the cause of it. Could you tell her so 
  2.3565 +for me, with my fervent acknowledgments?" 
  2.3566 +
  2.3567 +"Yes, I could. I will, if you ask it." 
  2.3568 +
  2.3569 +Mr. Carton's manner was so careless as to be almost insolent. He 
  2.3570 +stood, half turned from the prisoner, lounging with his elbow against the 
  2.3571 +bar. 
  2.3572 +
  2.3573 +"I do ask it. Accept my cordial thanks." 
  2.3574 +
  2.3575 +"What," said Carton, still only half turned towards him, "do you ex- 
  2.3576 +pect, Mr. Darnay?" 
  2.3577 +
  2.3578 +"The worst." 
  2.3579 +
  2.3580 +"It's the wisest thing to expect, and the likeliest. But I think their with- 
  2.3581 +drawing is in your favour." 
  2.3582 +
  2.3583 +Loitering on the way out of court not being allowed, Jerry heard no 
  2.3584 +more: but left them - so like each other in feature, so unlike each other in 
  2.3585 +manner - standing side by side, both reflected in the glass above them. 
  2.3586 +
  2.3587 +An hour and a half limped heavily away in the thief-and-rascal 
  2.3588 +crowded passages below, even though assisted off with mutton pies and 
  2.3589 +ale. The hoarse messenger, uncomfortably seated on a form after taking 
  2.3590 +that refection, had dropped into a doze, when a loud murmur and a 
  2.3591 +
  2.3592 +
  2.3593 +
  2.3594 +72 
  2.3595 +
  2.3596 +
  2.3597 +
  2.3598 +rapid tide of people setting up the stairs that led to the court, carried him 
  2.3599 +along with them. 
  2.3600 +
  2.3601 +"Jerry! Jerry!" Mr. Lorry was already calling at the door when he got 
  2.3602 +there. 
  2.3603 +
  2.3604 +"Here, sir! It's a fight to get back again. Here I am, sir!" 
  2.3605 +
  2.3606 +Mr. Lorry handed him a paper through the throng. "Quick! Have you 
  2.3607 +got it?" 
  2.3608 +
  2.3609 +"Yes, sir." 
  2.3610 +
  2.3611 +Hastily written on the paper was the word "AQUITTED." 
  2.3612 +
  2.3613 +"If you had sent the message, 'Recalled to Life,' again," muttered Jerry, 
  2.3614 +as he turned, "I should have known what you meant, this time." 
  2.3615 +
  2.3616 +He had no opportunity of saying, or so much as thinking, anything 
  2.3617 +else, until he was clear of the Old Bailey; for, the crowd came pouring 
  2.3618 +out with a vehemence that nearly took him off his legs, and a loud buzz 
  2.3619 +swept into the street as if the baffled blue-flies were dispersing in search 
  2.3620 +of other carrion.Mr. Attorney-General had to inform the jury, that the 
  2.3621 +prisoner before them, though young in years, was old in the treasonable 
  2.3622 +practices which claimed the forfeit of his life. That this correspondence 
  2.3623 +with the public enemy was not a correspondence of to-day, or of yester- 
  2.3624 +day, or even of last year, or of the year before. That, it was certain the 
  2.3625 +prisoner had, for longer than that, been in the habit of passing and re- 
  2.3626 +passing between France and England, on secret business of which he 
  2.3627 +could give no honest account. That, if it were in the nature of traitorous 
  2.3628 +ways to thrive (which happily it never was), the real wickedness and 
  2.3629 +guilt of his business might have remained undiscovered. That Provid- 
  2.3630 +ence, however, had put it into the heart of a person who was beyond fear 
  2.3631 +and beyond reproach, to ferret out the nature of the prisoner's schemes, 
  2.3632 +and, struck with horror, to disclose them to his Majesty's Chief Secretary 
  2.3633 +of State and most honourable Privy Council. That, this patriot would be 
  2.3634 +produced before them. That, his position and attitude were, on the 
  2.3635 +whole, sublime. That, he had been the prisoner's friend, but, at once in 
  2.3636 +an auspicious and an evil hour detecting his infamy, had resolved to im- 
  2.3637 +molate the traitor he could no longer cherish in his bosom, on the sacred 
  2.3638 +altar of his country. That, if statues were decreed in Britain, as in ancient 
  2.3639 +Greece and Rome, to public benefactors, this shining citizen would as- 
  2.3640 +suredly have had one. That, as they were not so decreed, he probably 
  2.3641 +would not have one. That, Virtue, as had been observed by the poets (in 
  2.3642 +many passages which he well knew the jury would have, word for word, 
  2.3643 +at the tips of their tongues; whereat the jury's countenances displayed a 
  2.3644 +
  2.3645 +
  2.3646 +
  2.3647 +73 
  2.3648 +
  2.3649 +
  2.3650 +
  2.3651 +guilty consciousness that they knew nothing about the passages), was in 
  2.3652 +a manner contagious; more especially the bright virtue known as patriot- 
  2.3653 +ism, or love of country. That, the lofty example of this immaculate and 
  2.3654 +unimpeachable witness for the Crown, to refer to whom however un- 
  2.3655 +worthily was an honour, had communicated itself to the prisoner's ser- 
  2.3656 +vant, and had engendered in him a holy determination to examine his 
  2.3657 +master's table-drawers and pockets, and secrete his papers. That, he (Mr. 
  2.3658 +Attorney-General) was prepared to hear some disparagement attempted 
  2.3659 +of this admirable servant; but that, in a general way, he preferred him to 
  2.3660 +his (Mr. Attorney-General's) brothers and sisters, and honoured him 
  2.3661 +more than his (Mr. Attorney-General's) father and mother. That, he 
  2.3662 +called with confidence on the jury to come and do likewise. That, the 
  2.3663 +evidence of these two witnesses, coupled with the documents of their 
  2.3664 +discovering that would be produced, would show the prisoner to have 
  2.3665 +been furnished with lists of his Majesty's forces, and of their disposition 
  2.3666 +and preparation, both by sea and land, and would leave no doubt that he 
  2.3667 +had habitually conveyed such information to a hostile power. That, these 
  2.3668 +lists could not be proved to be in the prisoner's handwriting; but that it 
  2.3669 +was all the same; that, indeed, it was rather the better for the prosecu- 
  2.3670 +tion, as showing the prisoner to be artful in his precautions. That, the 
  2.3671 +proof would go back five years, and would show the prisoner already 
  2.3672 +engaged in these pernicious missions, within a few weeks before the date 
  2.3673 +of the very first action fought between the British troops and the Americ- 
  2.3674 +ans. That, for these reasons, the jury, being a loyal jury (as he knew they 
  2.3675 +were), and being a responsible jury (as they knew they were), must pos- 
  2.3676 +itively find the prisoner Guilty, and make an end of him, whether they 
  2.3677 +liked it or not. That, they never could lay their heads upon their pillows; 
  2.3678 +that, they never could tolerate the idea of their wives laying their heads 
  2.3679 +upon their pillows; that, they never could endure the notion of their chil- 
  2.3680 +dren laying their heads upon their pillows; in short, that there never 
  2.3681 +more could be, for them or theirs, any laying of heads upon pillows at 
  2.3682 +all, unless the prisoner's head was taken off. That head Mr. Attorney- 
  2.3683 +General concluded by demanding of them, in the name of everything he 
  2.3684 +could think of with a round turn in it, and on the faith of his solemn as- 
  2.3685 +severation that he already considered the prisoner as good as dead and 
  2.3686 +gone. 
  2.3687 +
  2.3688 +When the Attorney-General ceased, a buzz arose in the court as if a 
  2.3689 +cloud of great blue-flies were swarming about the prisoner, in anticipa- 
  2.3690 +tion of what he was soon to become. When toned down again, the unim- 
  2.3691 +peachable patriot appeared in the witness-box. 
  2.3692 +
  2.3693 +
  2.3694 +
  2.3695 +74: 
  2.3696 +
  2.3697 +
  2.3698 +
  2.3699 +Mr. Solicitor-General then, following his leader's lead, examined the 
  2.3700 +patriot: John Barsad, gentleman, by name. The story of his pure soul was 
  2.3701 +exactly what Mr. Attorney-General had described it to be - perhaps, if it 
  2.3702 +had a fault, a little too exactly. Having released his noble bosom of its 
  2.3703 +burden, he would have modestly withdrawn himself, but that the 
  2.3704 +wigged gentleman with the papers before him, sitting not far from Mr. 
  2.3705 +Lorry, begged to ask him a few questions. The wigged gentleman sitting 
  2.3706 +opposite, still looking at the ceiling of the court. 
  2.3707 +
  2.3708 +Had he ever been a spy himself? No, he scorned the base insinuation. 
  2.3709 +What did he live upon? His property. Where was his property? He 
  2.3710 +didn't precisely remember where it was. What was it? No business of 
  2.3711 +anybody's. Had he inherited it? Yes, he had. From whom? Distant rela- 
  2.3712 +tion. Very distant? Rather. Ever been in prison? Certainly not. Never in a 
  2.3713 +debtors' prison? Didn't see what that had to do with it. Never in a debt- 
  2.3714 +ors' prison? - Come, once again. Never? Yes. How many times? Two or 
  2.3715 +three times. Not five or six? Perhaps. Of what profession? Gentleman. 
  2.3716 +Ever been kicked? Might have been. Frequently? No. Ever kicked down- 
  2.3717 +stairs? Decidedly not; once received a kick on the top of a staircase, and 
  2.3718 +fell downstairs of his own accord. Kicked on that occasion for cheating at 
  2.3719 +dice? Something to that effect was said by the intoxicated liar who com- 
  2.3720 +mitted the assault, but it was not true. Swear it was not true? Positively. 
  2.3721 +Ever live by cheating at play? Never. Ever live by play? Not more than 
  2.3722 +other gentlemen do. Ever borrow money of the prisoner? Yes. Ever pay 
  2.3723 +him? No. Was not this intimacy with the prisoner, in reality a very slight 
  2.3724 +one, forced upon the prisoner in coaches, inns, and packets? No. Sure he 
  2.3725 +saw the prisoner with these lists? Certain. Knew no more about the lists? 
  2.3726 +No. Had not procured them himself, for instance? No. Expect to get any- 
  2.3727 +thing by this evidence? No. Not in regular government pay and employ- 
  2.3728 +ment, to lay traps? Oh dear no. Or to do anything? Oh dear no. Swear 
  2.3729 +that? Over and over again. No motives but motives of sheer patriotism? 
  2.3730 +None whatever. 
  2.3731 +
  2.3732 +The virtuous servant, Roger Cly, swore his way through the case at a 
  2.3733 +great rate. He had taken service with the prisoner, in good faith and sim- 
  2.3734 +plicity, four years ago. He had asked the prisoner, aboard the Calais 
  2.3735 +packet, if he wanted a handy fellow, and the prisoner had engaged him. 
  2.3736 +He had not asked the prisoner to take the handy fellow as an act of char- 
  2.3737 +ity - never thought of such a thing. He began to have suspicions of the 
  2.3738 +prisoner, and to keep an eye upon him, soon afterwards. In arranging his 
  2.3739 +clothes, while travelling, he had seen similar lists to these in the prison- 
  2.3740 +er's pockets, over and over again. He had taken these lists from the 
  2.3741 +
  2.3742 +
  2.3743 +
  2.3744 +75 
  2.3745 +
  2.3746 +
  2.3747 +
  2.3748 +drawer of the prisoner's desk. He had not put them there first. He had 
  2.3749 +seen the prisoner show these identical lists to French gentlemen at Cal- 
  2.3750 +ais, and similar lists to French gentlemen, both at Calais and Boulogne. 
  2.3751 +He loved his country, and couldn't bear it, and had given information. 
  2.3752 +He had never been suspected of stealing a silver tea-pot; he had been 
  2.3753 +maligned respecting a mustard-pot, but it turned out to be only a plated 
  2.3754 +one. He had known the last witness seven or eight years; that was merely 
  2.3755 +a coincidence. He didn't call it a particularly curious coincidence; most 
  2.3756 +coincidences were curious. Neither did he call it a curious coincidence 
  2.3757 +that true patriotism was HIS only motive too. He was a true Briton, and 
  2.3758 +hoped there were many like him. 
  2.3759 +
  2.3760 +The blue-flies buzzed again, and Mr. Attorney-General called Mr. Jar- 
  2.3761 +vis Lorry. 
  2.3762 +
  2.3763 +"Mr. Jarvis Lorry, are you a clerk in Tellson's bank?" 
  2.3764 +
  2.3765 +"I am." 
  2.3766 +
  2.3767 +"On a certain Friday night in November one thousand seven hundred 
  2.3768 +and seventy-five, did business occasion you to travel between London 
  2.3769 +and Dover by the mail?" 
  2.3770 +
  2.3771 +"It did." 
  2.3772 +
  2.3773 +"Were there any other passengers in the mail?" 
  2.3774 +
  2.3775 +"Two." 
  2.3776 +
  2.3777 +"Did they alight on the road in the course of the night?" 
  2.3778 +
  2.3779 +"They did." 
  2.3780 +
  2.3781 +"Mr. Lorry, look upon the prisoner. Was he one of those two 
  2.3782 +passengers?" 
  2.3783 +
  2.3784 +"I cannot undertake to say that he was." 
  2.3785 +
  2.3786 +"Does he resemble either of these two passengers?" 
  2.3787 +
  2.3788 +"Both were so wrapped up, and the night was so dark, and we were 
  2.3789 +all so reserved, that I cannot undertake to say even that." 
  2.3790 +
  2.3791 +"Mr. Lorry, look again upon the prisoner. Supposing him wrapped up 
  2.3792 +as those two passengers were, is there anything in his bulk and stature to 
  2.3793 +render it unlikely that he was one of them?" 
  2.3794 +
  2.3795 +"No." 
  2.3796 +
  2.3797 +"You will not swear, Mr. Lorry, that he was not one of them?" 
  2.3798 +
  2.3799 +"No." 
  2.3800 +
  2.3801 +"So at least you say he may have been one of them?" 
  2.3802 +
  2.3803 +
  2.3804 +
  2.3805 +76 
  2.3806 +
  2.3807 +
  2.3808 +
  2.3809 +"Yes. Except that I remember them both to have been - like myself - 
  2.3810 +timorous of highwaymen, and the prisoner has not a timorous air." 
  2.3811 +
  2.3812 +"Did you ever see a counterfeit of timidity, Mr. Lorry?" 
  2.3813 +
  2.3814 +"I certainly have seen that." 
  2.3815 +
  2.3816 +"Mr. Lorry, look once more upon the prisoner. Have you seen him, to 
  2.3817 +your certain knowledge, before?" 
  2.3818 +
  2.3819 +"I have." 
  2.3820 +
  2.3821 +"When?" 
  2.3822 +
  2.3823 +"I was returning from France a few days afterwards, and, at Calais, the 
  2.3824 +prisoner came on board the packet-ship in which I returned, and made 
  2.3825 +the voyage with me." 
  2.3826 +
  2.3827 +"At what hour did he come on board?" 
  2.3828 +
  2.3829 +"At a little after midnight." 
  2.3830 +
  2.3831 +"In the dead of the night. Was he the only passenger who came on 
  2.3832 +board at that untimely hour?" 
  2.3833 +
  2.3834 +"He happened to be the only one." 
  2.3835 +
  2.3836 +"Never mind about 'happening/ Mr. Lorry. He was the only passen- 
  2.3837 +ger who came on board in the dead of the night?" 
  2.3838 +
  2.3839 +"He was." 
  2.3840 +
  2.3841 +"Were you travelling alone, Mr. Lorry, or with any companion?" 
  2.3842 +
  2.3843 +"With two companions. A gentleman and lady. They are here." 
  2.3844 +
  2.3845 +"They are here. Had you any conversation with the prisoner?" 
  2.3846 +
  2.3847 +"Hardly any. The weather was stormy, and the passage long and 
  2.3848 +rough, and I lay on a sofa, almost from shore to shore." 
  2.3849 +
  2.3850 +"Miss Manette!" 
  2.3851 +
  2.3852 +The young lady, to whom all eyes had been turned before, and were 
  2.3853 +now turned again, stood up where she had sat. Her father rose with her, 
  2.3854 +and kept her hand drawn through his arm. 
  2.3855 +
  2.3856 +"Miss Manette, look upon the prisoner." 
  2.3857 +
  2.3858 +To be confronted with such pity, and such earnest youth and beauty, 
  2.3859 +was far more trying to the accused than to be confronted with all the 
  2.3860 +crowd. Standing, as it were, apart with her on the edge of his grave, not 
  2.3861 +all the staring curiosity that looked on, could, for the moment, nerve him 
  2.3862 +to remain quite still. His hurried right hand parcelled out the herbs be- 
  2.3863 +fore him into imaginary beds of flowers in a garden; and his efforts to 
  2.3864 +
  2.3865 +
  2.3866 +
  2.3867 +77 
  2.3868 +
  2.3869 +
  2.3870 +
  2.3871 +control and steady his breathing shook the lips from which the colour 
  2.3872 +rushed to his heart. The buzz of the great flies was loud again. 
  2.3873 +
  2.3874 +"Miss Manette, have you seen the prisoner before?" 
  2.3875 +
  2.3876 +"Yes, sir." 
  2.3877 +
  2.3878 +"Where?" 
  2.3879 +
  2.3880 +"On board of the packet-ship just now referred to, sir, and on the same 
  2.3881 +occasion." 
  2.3882 +
  2.3883 +"You are the young lady just now referred to?" 
  2.3884 +
  2.3885 +"O! most unhappily, I am!" 
  2.3886 +
  2.3887 +The plaintive tone of her compassion merged into the less musical 
  2.3888 +voice of the Judge, as he said something fiercely: "Answer the questions 
  2.3889 +put to you, and make no remark upon them." 
  2.3890 +
  2.3891 +"Miss Manette, had you any conversation with the prisoner on that 
  2.3892 +passage across the Channel?" 
  2.3893 +
  2.3894 +"Yes, sir." 
  2.3895 +
  2.3896 +"Recall it." 
  2.3897 +
  2.3898 +In the midst of a profound stillness, she faintly began: "When the gen- 
  2.3899 +tleman came on board - " 
  2.3900 +
  2.3901 +"Do you mean the prisoner?" inquired the Judge, knitting his brows. 
  2.3902 +
  2.3903 +"Yes, my Lord." 
  2.3904 +
  2.3905 +"Then say the prisoner." 
  2.3906 +
  2.3907 +"When the prisoner came on board, he noticed that my father," turn- 
  2.3908 +ing her eyes lovingly to him as he stood beside her, "was much fatigued 
  2.3909 +and in a very weak state of health. My father was so reduced that I was 
  2.3910 +afraid to take him out of the air, and I had made a bed for him on the 
  2.3911 +deck near the cabin steps, and I sat on the deck at his side to take care of 
  2.3912 +him. There were no other passengers that night, but we four. The prison- 
  2.3913 +er was so good as to beg permission to advise me how I could shelter my 
  2.3914 +father from the wind and weather, better than I had done. I had not 
  2.3915 +known how to do it well, not understanding how the wind would set 
  2.3916 +when we were out of the harbour. He did it for me. He expressed great 
  2.3917 +gentleness and kindness for my father's state, and I am sure he felt it. 
  2.3918 +That was the manner of our beginning to speak together." 
  2.3919 +
  2.3920 +"Let me interrupt you for a moment. Had he come on board alone?" 
  2.3921 +
  2.3922 +"No." 
  2.3923 +
  2.3924 +"How many were with him?" 
  2.3925 +
  2.3926 +
  2.3927 +
  2.3928 +78 
  2.3929 +
  2.3930 +
  2.3931 +
  2.3932 +"Two French gentlemen." 
  2.3933 +
  2.3934 +"Had they conferred together?" 
  2.3935 +
  2.3936 +"They had conferred together until the last moment, when it was ne- 
  2.3937 +cessary for the French gentlemen to be landed in their boat." 
  2.3938 +
  2.3939 +"Had any papers been handed about among them, similar to these 
  2.3940 +lists?" 
  2.3941 +
  2.3942 +"Some papers had been handed about among them, but I don't know 
  2.3943 +what papers." 
  2.3944 +
  2.3945 +"Like these in shape and size?" 
  2.3946 +
  2.3947 +"Possibly, but indeed I don't know, although they stood whispering 
  2.3948 +very near to me: because they stood at the top of the cabin steps to have 
  2.3949 +the light of the lamp that was hanging there; it was a dull lamp, and they 
  2.3950 +spoke very low, and I did not hear what they said, and saw only that 
  2.3951 +they looked at papers." 
  2.3952 +
  2.3953 +"Now, to the prisoner's conversation, Miss Manette." 
  2.3954 +
  2.3955 +"The prisoner was as open in his confidence with me - which arose 
  2.3956 +out of my helpless situation - as he was kind, and good, and useful to 
  2.3957 +my father. I hope," bursting into tears, "I may not repay him by doing 
  2.3958 +him harm to-day." 
  2.3959 +
  2.3960 +Buzzing from the blue-flies. 
  2.3961 +
  2.3962 +"Miss Manette, if the prisoner does not perfectly understand that you 
  2.3963 +give the evidence which it is your duty to give - which you must give - 
  2.3964 +and which you cannot escape from giving - with great unwillingness, he 
  2.3965 +is the only person present in that condition. Please to go on." 
  2.3966 +
  2.3967 +"He told me that he was travelling on business of a delicate and diffi- 
  2.3968 +cult nature, which might get people into trouble, and that he was there- 
  2.3969 +fore travelling under an assumed name. He said that this business had, 
  2.3970 +within a few days, taken him to France, and might, at intervals, take him 
  2.3971 +backwards and forwards between France and England for a long time to 
  2.3972 +come." 
  2.3973 +
  2.3974 +"Did he say anything about America, Miss Manette? Be particular." 
  2.3975 +
  2.3976 +"He tried to explain to me how that quarrel had arisen, and he said 
  2.3977 +that, so far as he could judge, it was a wrong and foolish one on Eng- 
  2.3978 +land's part. He added, in a jesting way, that perhaps George Washington 
  2.3979 +might gain almost as great a name in history as George the Third. But 
  2.3980 +there was no harm in his way of saying this: it was said laughingly, and 
  2.3981 +to beguile the time." 
  2.3982 +
  2.3983 +
  2.3984 +
  2.3985 +79 
  2.3986 +
  2.3987 +
  2.3988 +
  2.3989 +Any strongly marked expression of face on the part of a chief actor in a 
  2.3990 +scene of great interest to whom many eyes are directed, will be uncon- 
  2.3991 +sciously imitated by the spectators. Her forehead was painfully anxious 
  2.3992 +and intent as she gave this evidence, and, in the pauses when she 
  2.3993 +stopped for the Judge to write it down, watched its effect upon the coun- 
  2.3994 +sel for and against. Among the lookers-on there was the same expression 
  2.3995 +in all quarters of the court; insomuch, that a great majority of the fore- 
  2.3996 +heads there, might have been mirrors reflecting the witness, when the 
  2.3997 +Judge looked up from his notes to glare at that tremendous heresy about 
  2.3998 +George Washington. 
  2.3999 +
  2.4000 +Mr. Attorney-General now signified to my Lord, that he deemed it ne- 
  2.4001 +cessary, as a matter of precaution and form, to call the young lady's fath- 
  2.4002 +er, Doctor Manette. Who was called accordingly. 
  2.4003 +
  2.4004 +"Doctor Manette, look upon the prisoner. Have you ever seen him 
  2.4005 +before?" 
  2.4006 +
  2.4007 +"Once. When he caged at my lodgings in London. Some three years, or 
  2.4008 +three years and a half ago." 
  2.4009 +
  2.4010 +"Can you identify him as your fellow-passenger on board the packet, 
  2.4011 +or speak to his conversation with your daughter?" 
  2.4012 +
  2.4013 +"Sir, I can do neither." 
  2.4014 +
  2.4015 +"Is there any particular and special reason for your being unable to do 
  2.4016 +either?" 
  2.4017 +
  2.4018 +He answered, in a low voice, "There is." 
  2.4019 +
  2.4020 +"Has it been your misfortune to undergo a long imprisonment, 
  2.4021 +without trial, or even accusation, in your native country, Doctor 
  2.4022 +Manette?" 
  2.4023 +
  2.4024 +He answered, in a tone that went to every heart, "A long 
  2.4025 +imprisonment. " 
  2.4026 +
  2.4027 +"Were you newly released on the occasion in question?" 
  2.4028 +
  2.4029 +"They tell me so." 
  2.4030 +
  2.4031 +"Have you no remembrance of the occasion?" 
  2.4032 +
  2.4033 +"None. My mind is a blank, from some time - I cannot even say what 
  2.4034 +time - when I employed myself, in my captivity, in making shoes, to the 
  2.4035 +time when I found myself living in London with my dear daughter here. 
  2.4036 +She had become familiar to me, when a gracious God restored my fac- 
  2.4037 +ulties; but, I am quite unable even to say how she had become familiar. I 
  2.4038 +have no remembrance of the process." 
  2.4039 +
  2.4040 +
  2.4041 +
  2.4042 +80 
  2.4043 +
  2.4044 +
  2.4045 +
  2.4046 +Mr. Attorney-General sat down, and the father and daughter sat down 
  2.4047 +together. 
  2.4048 +
  2.4049 +A singular circumstance then arose in the case. The object in hand be- 
  2.4050 +ing to show that the prisoner went down, with some fellow-plotter un- 
  2.4051 +tracked, in the Dover mail on that Friday night in November five years 
  2.4052 +ago, and got out of the mail in the night, as a blind, at a place where he 
  2.4053 +did not remain, but from which he travelled back some dozen miles or 
  2.4054 +more, to a garrison and dockyard, and there collected information; a wit- 
  2.4055 +ness was called to identify him as having been at the precise time re- 
  2.4056 +quired, in the coffee-room of an hotel in that garrison-and-dockyard 
  2.4057 +town, waiting for another person. The prisoner's counsel was cross-ex- 
  2.4058 +amining this witness with no result, except that he had never seen the 
  2.4059 +prisoner on any other occasion, when the wigged gentleman who had all 
  2.4060 +this time been looking at the ceiling of the court, wrote a word or two on 
  2.4061 +a little piece of paper, screwed it up, and tossed it to him. Opening this 
  2.4062 +piece of paper in the next pause, the counsel looked with great attention 
  2.4063 +and curiosity at the prisoner. 
  2.4064 +
  2.4065 +"You say again you are quite sure that it was the prisoner?" 
  2.4066 +
  2.4067 +The witness was quite sure. 
  2.4068 +
  2.4069 +"Did you ever see anybody very like the prisoner?" 
  2.4070 +
  2.4071 +Not so like (the witness said) as that he could be mistaken. 
  2.4072 +
  2.4073 +"Look well upon that gentleman, my learned friend there," pointing to 
  2.4074 +him who had tossed the paper over, "and then look well upon the pris- 
  2.4075 +oner. How say you? Are they very like each other?" 
  2.4076 +
  2.4077 +Allowing for my learned friend's appearance being careless and slov- 
  2.4078 +enly if not debauched, they were sufficiently like each other to surprise, 
  2.4079 +not only the witness, but everybody present, when they were thus 
  2.4080 +brought into comparison. My Lord being prayed to bid my learned 
  2.4081 +friend lay aside his wig, and giving no very gracious consent, the like- 
  2.4082 +ness became much more remarkable. My Lord inquired of Mr. Stryver 
  2.4083 +(the prisoner's counsel), whether they were next to try Mr. Carton (name 
  2.4084 +of my learned friend) for treason? But, Mr. Stryver replied to my Lord, 
  2.4085 +no; but he would ask the witness to tell him whether what happened 
  2.4086 +once, might happen twice; whether he would have been so confident if 
  2.4087 +he had seen this illustration of his rashness sooner, whether he would be 
  2.4088 +so confident, having seen it; and more. The upshot of which, was, to 
  2.4089 +smash this witness like a crockery vessel, and shiver his part of the case 
  2.4090 +to useless lumber. 
  2.4091 +
  2.4092 +
  2.4093 +
  2.4094 +81 
  2.4095 +
  2.4096 +
  2.4097 +
  2.4098 +Mr. Cruncher had by this time taken quite a lunch of rust off his fin- 
  2.4099 +gers in his following of the evidence. He had now to attend while Mr. 
  2.4100 +Stryver fitted the prisoner's case on the jury, like a compact suit of 
  2.4101 +clothes; showing them how the patriot, Barsad, was a hired spy and trait- 
  2.4102 +or, an unblushing trafficker in blood, and one of the greatest scoundrels 
  2.4103 +upon earth since accursed Judas - which he certainly did look rather like. 
  2.4104 +How the virtuous servant, Cly, was his friend and partner, and was 
  2.4105 +worthy to be; how the watchful eyes of those forgers and false swearers 
  2.4106 +had rested on the prisoner as a victim, because some family affairs in 
  2.4107 +France, he being of French extraction, did require his making those pas- 
  2.4108 +sages across the Channel - though what those affairs were, a considera- 
  2.4109 +tion for others who were near and dear to him, forbade him, even for his 
  2.4110 +life, to disclose. How the evidence that had been warped and wrested 
  2.4111 +from the young lady, whose anguish in giving it they had witnessed, 
  2.4112 +came to nothing, involving the mere little innocent gallantries and polite- 
  2.4113 +nesses likely to pass between any young gentleman and young lady so 
  2.4114 +thrown together; - with the exception of that reference to George Wash- 
  2.4115 +ington, which was altogether too extravagant and impossible to be re- 
  2.4116 +garded in any other light than as a monstrous joke. How it would be a 
  2.4117 +weakness in the government to break down in this attempt to practise 
  2.4118 +for popularity on the lowest national antipathies and fears, and therefore 
  2.4119 +Mr. Attorney-General had made the most of it; how, nevertheless, it res- 
  2.4120 +ted upon nothing, save that vile and infamous character of evidence too 
  2.4121 +often disfiguring such cases, and of which the State Trials of this country 
  2.4122 +were full. But, there my Lord interposed (with as grave a face as if it had 
  2.4123 +not been true), saying that he could not sit upon that Bench and suffer 
  2.4124 +those allusions. 
  2.4125 +
  2.4126 +Mr. Stryver then called his few witnesses, and Mr. Cruncher had next 
  2.4127 +to attend while Mr. Attorney-General turned the whole suit of clothes 
  2.4128 +Mr. Stryver had fitted on the jury, inside out; showing how Barsad and 
  2.4129 +Cly were even a hundred times better than he had thought them, and the 
  2.4130 +prisoner a hundred times worse. Lastly, came my Lord himself, turning 
  2.4131 +the suit of clothes, now inside out, now outside in, but on the whole de- 
  2.4132 +cidedly trimming and shaping them into grave-clothes for the prisoner. 
  2.4133 +
  2.4134 +And now, the jury turned to consider, and the great flies swarmed 
  2.4135 +again. 
  2.4136 +
  2.4137 +Mr. Carton, who had so long sat looking at the ceiling of the court, 
  2.4138 +changed neither his place nor his attitude, even in this excitement. While 
  2.4139 +his teamed friend, Mr. Stryver, massing his papers before him, 
  2.4140 +whispered with those who sat near, and from time to time glanced 
  2.4141 +
  2.4142 +
  2.4143 +
  2.4144 +82 
  2.4145 +
  2.4146 +
  2.4147 +
  2.4148 +anxiously at the jury; while all the spectators moved more or less, and 
  2.4149 +grouped themselves anew; while even my Lord himself arose from his 
  2.4150 +seat, and slowly paced up and down his platform, not unattended by a 
  2.4151 +suspicion in the minds of the audience that his state was feverish; this 
  2.4152 +one man sat leaning back, with his torn gown half off him, his untidy 
  2.4153 +wig put on just as it had happened to fight on his head after its removal, 
  2.4154 +his hands in his pockets, and his eyes on the ceiling as they had been all 
  2.4155 +day. Something especially reckless in his demeanour, not only gave him 
  2.4156 +a disreputable look, but so diminished the strong resemblance he un- 
  2.4157 +doubtedly bore to the prisoner (which his momentary earnestness, when 
  2.4158 +they were compared together, had strengthened), that many of the 
  2.4159 +lookers-on, taking note of him now, said to one another they would 
  2.4160 +hardly have thought the two were so alike. Mr. Cruncher made the ob- 
  2.4161 +servation to his next neighbour, and added, "I'd hold half a guinea that 
  2.4162 +he don't get no law-work to do. Don't look like the sort of one to get any, 
  2.4163 +do he?" " 
  2.4164 +
  2.4165 +Yet, this Mr. Carton took in more of the details of the scene than he ap- 
  2.4166 +peared to take in; for now, when Miss Manette's head dropped upon her 
  2.4167 +father's breast, he was the first to see it, and to say audibly: "Officer! look 
  2.4168 +to that young lady. Help the gentleman to take her out. Don't you see 
  2.4169 +she will fall!" 
  2.4170 +
  2.4171 +There was much commiseration for her as she was removed, and 
  2.4172 +much sympathy with her father. It had evidently been a great distress to 
  2.4173 +him, to have the days of his imprisonment recalled. He had shown 
  2.4174 +strong internal agitation when he was questioned, and that pondering or 
  2.4175 +brooding look which made him old, had been upon him, like a heavy 
  2.4176 +cloud, ever since. As he passed out, the jury, who had turned back and 
  2.4177 +paused a moment, spoke, through their foreman. 
  2.4178 +
  2.4179 +They were not agreed, and wished to retire. My Lord (perhaps with 
  2.4180 +George Washington on his mind) showed some surprise that they were 
  2.4181 +not agreed, but signified his pleasure that they should retire under watch 
  2.4182 +and ward, and retired himself. The trial had lasted all day, and the lamps 
  2.4183 +in the court were now being lighted. It began to be rumoured that the 
  2.4184 +jury would be out a long while. The spectators dropped off to get re- 
  2.4185 +freshment, and the prisoner withdrew to the back of the dock, and sat 
  2.4186 +down. 
  2.4187 +
  2.4188 +Mr. Lorry, who had gone out when the young lady and her father 
  2.4189 +went out, now reappeared, and beckoned to Jerry: who, in the slackened 
  2.4190 +interest, could easily get near him. 
  2.4191 +
  2.4192 +
  2.4193 +
  2.4194 +83 
  2.4195 +
  2.4196 +
  2.4197 +
  2.4198 +"Jerry, if you wish to take something to eat, you can. But, keep in the 
  2.4199 +way. You will be sure to hear when the jury come in. Don't be a moment 
  2.4200 +behind them, for I want you to take the verdict back to the bank. You are 
  2.4201 +the quickest messenger I know, and will get to Temple Bar long before I 
  2.4202 +can." 
  2.4203 +
  2.4204 +Jerry had just enough forehead to knuckle, and he knuckled it in ac- 
  2.4205 +knowedgment of this communication and a shilling. Mr. Carton came up 
  2.4206 +at the moment, and touched Mr. Lorry on the arm. 
  2.4207 +
  2.4208 +"How is the young lady?" 
  2.4209 +
  2.4210 +"She is greatly distressed; but her father is comforting her, and she 
  2.4211 +feels the better for being out of court." 
  2.4212 +
  2.4213 +"I'll tell the prisoner so. It won't do for a respectable bank gentleman 
  2.4214 +like you, to be seen speaking to him publicly, you know." 
  2.4215 +
  2.4216 +Mr. Lorry reddened as if he were conscious of having debated the 
  2.4217 +point in his mind, and Mr. Carton made his way to the outside of the bar. 
  2.4218 +The way out of court lay in that direction, and Jerry followed him, all 
  2.4219 +eyes, ears, and spikes. 
  2.4220 +
  2.4221 +"Mr. Darnay!" 
  2.4222 +
  2.4223 +The prisoner came forward directly. 
  2.4224 +
  2.4225 +"You will naturally be anxious to hear of the witness, Miss Manette. 
  2.4226 +She will do very well. You have seen the worst of her agitation." 
  2.4227 +
  2.4228 +"I am deeply sorry to have been the cause of it. Could you tell her so 
  2.4229 +for me, with my fervent acknowledgments?" 
  2.4230 +
  2.4231 +"Yes, I could. I will, if you ask it." 
  2.4232 +
  2.4233 +Mr. Carton's manner was so careless as to be almost insolent. He 
  2.4234 +stood, half turned from the prisoner, lounging with his elbow against the 
  2.4235 +bar. 
  2.4236 +
  2.4237 +"I do ask it. Accept my cordial thanks." 
  2.4238 +
  2.4239 +"What," said Carton, still only half turned towards him, "do you ex- 
  2.4240 +pect, Mr. Darnay?" 
  2.4241 +
  2.4242 +"The worst." 
  2.4243 +
  2.4244 +"It's the wisest thing to expect, and the likeliest. But I think their with- 
  2.4245 +drawing is in your favour." 
  2.4246 +
  2.4247 +Loitering on the way out of court not being allowed, Jerry heard no 
  2.4248 +more: but left them - so like each other in feature, so unlike each other in 
  2.4249 +manner - standing side by side, both reflected in the glass above them. 
  2.4250 +
  2.4251 +
  2.4252 +
  2.4253 +84 
  2.4254 +
  2.4255 +
  2.4256 +
  2.4257 +An hour and a half limped heavily away in the thief-and-rascal 
  2.4258 +crowded passages below, even though assisted off with mutton pies and 
  2.4259 +ale. The hoarse messenger, uncomfortably seated on a form after taking 
  2.4260 +that refection, had dropped into a doze, when a loud murmur and a rap- 
  2.4261 +id tide of people setting up the stairs that led to the court, carried him 
  2.4262 +along with them. 
  2.4263 +
  2.4264 +"Jerry! Jerry!" Mr. Lorry was already calling at the door when he got 
  2.4265 +there. 
  2.4266 +
  2.4267 +"Here, sir! It's a fight to get back again. Here I am, sir!" 
  2.4268 +
  2.4269 +Mr. Lorry handed him a paper through the throng. "Quick! Have you 
  2.4270 +got it?" 
  2.4271 +
  2.4272 +"Yes, sir." 
  2.4273 +
  2.4274 +Hastily written on the paper was the word "AQUITTED." 
  2.4275 +
  2.4276 +"If you had sent the message, 'Recalled to Life,' again," muttered Jerry, 
  2.4277 +as he turned, "I should have known what you meant, this time." 
  2.4278 +
  2.4279 +He had no opportunity of saying, or so much as thinking, anything 
  2.4280 +else, until he was clear of the Old Bailey; for, the crowd came pouring 
  2.4281 +out with a vehemence that nearly took him off his legs, and a loud buzz 
  2.4282 +swept into the street as if the baffled blue-flies were dispersing in search 
  2.4283 +of other carrion. 
  2.4284 +
  2.4285 +
  2.4286 +
  2.4287 +85 
  2.4288 +
  2.4289 +
  2.4290 +
  2.4291 +Chapter 
  2.4292 +
  2.4293 +
  2.4294 +
  2.4295 +4 
  2.4296 +
  2.4297 +
  2.4298 +
  2.4299 +Congratulatory 
  2.4300 +
  2.4301 +From the dimly-lighted passages of the court, the last sediment of the 
  2.4302 +human stew that had been boiling there all day, was straining off, when 
  2.4303 +Doctor Manette, Lucie Manette, his daughter, Mr. Lorry, the solicitor for 
  2.4304 +the defence, and its counsel, Mr. Stryver, stood gathered round Mr. 
  2.4305 +Charles Darnay - just released - congratulating him on his escape from 
  2.4306 +death. 
  2.4307 +
  2.4308 +It would have been difficult by a far brighter light, to recognise in Doc- 
  2.4309 +tor Manette, intellectual of face and upright of bearing, the shoemaker of 
  2.4310 +the garret in Paris. Yet, no one could have looked at him twice, without 
  2.4311 +looking again: even though the opportunity of observation had not ex- 
  2.4312 +tended to the mournful cadence of his low grave voice, and to the ab- 
  2.4313 +straction that overclouded him fitfully, without any apparent reason. 
  2.4314 +While one external cause, and that a reference to his long lingering 
  2.4315 +agony, would always - as on the trial - evoke this condition from the 
  2.4316 +depths of his soul, it was also in its nature to arise of itself, and to draw a 
  2.4317 +gloom over him, as incomprehensible to those unacquainted with his 
  2.4318 +story as if they had seen the shadow of the actual Bastille thrown upon 
  2.4319 +him by a summer sun, when the substance was three hundred miles 
  2.4320 +away. 
  2.4321 +
  2.4322 +Only his daughter had the power of charming this black brooding 
  2.4323 +from his mind. She was the golden thread that united him to a Past bey- 
  2.4324 +ond his misery, and to a Present beyond his misery: and the sound of her 
  2.4325 +voice, the light of her face, the touch of her hand, had a strong beneficial 
  2.4326 +influence with him almost always. Not absolutely always, for she could 
  2.4327 +recall some occasions on which her power had failed; but they were few 
  2.4328 +and slight, and she believed them over. 
  2.4329 +
  2.4330 +Mr. Darnay had kissed her hand fervently and gratefully, and had 
  2.4331 +turned to Mr. Stryver, whom he warmly thanked. Mr. Stryver, a man of 
  2.4332 +little more than thirty, but looking twenty years older than he was, stout, 
  2.4333 +loud, red, bluff, and free from any drawback of delicacy, had a pushing 
  2.4334 +
  2.4335 +
  2.4336 +
  2.4337 +86 
  2.4338 +
  2.4339 +
  2.4340 +
  2.4341 +way of shouldering himself (morally and physically) into companies and 
  2.4342 +conversations, that argued well for his shouldering his way up in life. 
  2.4343 +
  2.4344 +He still had his wig and gown on, and he said, squaring himself at his 
  2.4345 +late client to that degree that he squeezed the innocent Mr. Lorry clean 
  2.4346 +out of the group: "I am glad to have brought you off with honour, Mr. 
  2.4347 +Darnay. It was an infamous prosecution, grossly infamous; but not the 
  2.4348 +less likely to succeed on that account." 
  2.4349 +
  2.4350 +"You have laid me under an obligation to you for life - in two senses," 
  2.4351 +said his late client, taking his hand. 
  2.4352 +
  2.4353 +"I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and my best is as good as 
  2.4354 +another man's, I believe." 
  2.4355 +
  2.4356 +It clearly being incumbent on some one to say, "Much better," Mr. 
  2.4357 +Lorry said it; perhaps not quite disinterestedly, but with the interested 
  2.4358 +object of squeezing himself back again. 
  2.4359 +
  2.4360 +"You think so?" said Mr. Stryver. "Well! you have been present all 
  2.4361 +day, and you ought to know. You are a man of business, too." 
  2.4362 +
  2.4363 +"And as such," quoth Mr. Lorry, whom the counsel learned in the law 
  2.4364 +had now shouldered back into the group, just as he had previously 
  2.4365 +shouldered him out of it - "as such I will appeal to Doctor Manette, to 
  2.4366 +break up this conference and order us all to our homes. Miss Lucie looks 
  2.4367 +ill, Mr. Darnay has had a terrible day, we are worn out." 
  2.4368 +
  2.4369 +"Speak for yourself, Mr. Lorry," said Stryver; "I have a night's work to 
  2.4370 +do yet. Speak for yourself." 
  2.4371 +
  2.4372 +"I speak for myself," answered Mr. Lorry, "and for Mr. Darnay, and 
  2.4373 +for Miss Lucie, and - Miss Lucie, do you not think I may speak for us 
  2.4374 +all?" He asked her the question pointedly, and with a glance at her 
  2.4375 +father. 
  2.4376 +
  2.4377 +His face had become frozen, as it were, in a very curious look at 
  2.4378 +Darnay: an intent look, deepening into a frown of dislike and distrust, 
  2.4379 +not even unmixed with fear. With this strange expression on him his 
  2.4380 +thoughts had wandered away. 
  2.4381 +
  2.4382 +"My father," said Lucie, softly laying her hand on his. 
  2.4383 +
  2.4384 +He slowly shook the shadow off, and turned to her. 
  2.4385 +
  2.4386 +"Shall we go home, my father?" 
  2.4387 +
  2.4388 +With a long breath, he answered "Yes." 
  2.4389 +
  2.4390 +The friends of the acquitted prisoner had dispersed, under the impres- 
  2.4391 +sion - which he himself had originated - that he would not be released 
  2.4392 +
  2.4393 +
  2.4394 +
  2.4395 +87 
  2.4396 +
  2.4397 +
  2.4398 +
  2.4399 +that night. The lights were nearly all extinguished in the passages, the 
  2.4400 +iron gates were being closed with a jar and a rattle, and the dismal place 
  2.4401 +was deserted until to-morrow morning's interest of gallows, pillory, 
  2.4402 +whipping-post, and branding-iron, should repeople it. Walking between 
  2.4403 +her father and Mr. Darnay, Lucie Manette passed into the open air. A 
  2.4404 +hackney-coach was called, and the father and daughter departed in it. 
  2.4405 +
  2.4406 +Mr. Stryver had left them in the passages, to shoulder his way back to 
  2.4407 +the robing-room. Another person, who had not joined the group, or in- 
  2.4408 +terchanged a word with any one of them, but who had been leaning 
  2.4409 +against the wall where its shadow was darkest, had silently strolled out 
  2.4410 +after the rest, and had looked on until the coach drove away. He now 
  2.4411 +stepped up to where Mr. Lorry and Mr. Darnay stood upon the 
  2.4412 +pavement. 
  2.4413 +
  2.4414 +"So, Mr. Lorry! Men of business may speak to Mr. Darnay now?" 
  2.4415 +
  2.4416 +Nobody had made any acknowledgment of Mr. Carton's part in the 
  2.4417 +day's proceedings; nobody had known of it. He was unrobed, and was 
  2.4418 +none the better for it in appearance. 
  2.4419 +
  2.4420 +"If you knew what a conflict goes on in the business mind, when the 
  2.4421 +business mind is divided between good-natured impulse and business 
  2.4422 +appearances, you would be amused, Mr. Darnay." 
  2.4423 +
  2.4424 +Mr. Lorry reddened, and said, warmly, "You have mentioned that be- 
  2.4425 +fore, sir. We men of business, who serve a House, are not our own mas- 
  2.4426 +ters. We have to think of the House more than ourselves." 
  2.4427 +
  2.4428 +"I know, I know," rejoined Mr. Carton, carelessly. "Don't be nettled, 
  2.4429 +Mr. Lorry. You are as good as another, I have no doubt: better, I dare 
  2.4430 +say." 
  2.4431 +
  2.4432 +"And indeed, sir," pursued Mr. Lorry, not minding him, "I really don't 
  2.4433 +know what you have to do with the matter. If you'll excuse me, as very 
  2.4434 +much your elder, for saying so, I really don't know that it is your 
  2.4435 +business." 
  2.4436 +
  2.4437 +"Business! Bless you, I have no business," said Mr. Carton. 
  2.4438 +
  2.4439 +"It is a pity you have not, sir." 
  2.4440 +
  2.4441 +"I think so, too." 
  2.4442 +
  2.4443 +"If you had," pursued Mr. Lorry, "perhaps you would attend to it." 
  2.4444 +
  2.4445 +"Lord love you, no! - I shouldn't," said Mr. Carton. 
  2.4446 +
  2.4447 +"Well, sir!" cried Mr. Lorry, thoroughly heated by his indifference, 
  2.4448 +"business is a very good thing, and a very respectable thing. And, sir, if 
  2.4449 +
  2.4450 +
  2.4451 +
  2.4452 +88 
  2.4453 +
  2.4454 +
  2.4455 +
  2.4456 +business imposes its restraints and its silences and impediments, Mr. 
  2.4457 +Darnay as a young gentleman of generosity knows how to make allow- 
  2.4458 +ance for that circumstance. Mr. Darnay, good night, God bless you, sir! I 
  2.4459 +hope you have been this day preserved for a prosperous and happy 
  2.4460 +life. - Chair there!" 
  2.4461 +
  2.4462 +Perhaps a little angry with himself, as well as with the barrister, Mr. 
  2.4463 +Lorry bustled into the chair, and was carried off to Tellson's. Carton, 
  2.4464 +who smelt of port wine, and did not appear to be quite sober, laughed 
  2.4465 +then, and turned to Darnay: 
  2.4466 +
  2.4467 +"This is a strange chance that throws you and me together. This must 
  2.4468 +be a strange night to you, standing alone here with your counterpart on 
  2.4469 +these street stones?" 
  2.4470 +
  2.4471 +"I hardly seem yet," returned Charles Darnay, "to belong to this world 
  2.4472 +again." 
  2.4473 +
  2.4474 +"I don't wonder at it; it's not so long since you were pretty far ad- 
  2.4475 +vanced on your way to another. You speak faintly." 
  2.4476 +
  2.4477 +"I begin to think I am faint." 
  2.4478 +
  2.4479 +"Then why the devil don't you dine? I dined, myself, while those 
  2.4480 +numskulls were deliberating which world you should belong to - this, or 
  2.4481 +some other. Let me show you the nearest tavern to dine well at." 
  2.4482 +
  2.4483 +Drawing his arm through his own, he took him down Ludgate-hill to 
  2.4484 +Fleet-street, and so, up a covered way, into a tavern. Here, they were 
  2.4485 +shown into a little room, where Charles Darnay was soon recruiting his 
  2.4486 +strength with a good plain dinner and good wine: while Carton sat op- 
  2.4487 +posite to him at the same table, with his separate bottle of port before 
  2.4488 +him, and his fully half-insolent manner upon him. 
  2.4489 +
  2.4490 +"Do you feel, yet, that you belong to this terrestrial scheme again, Mr. 
  2.4491 +Darnay?" 
  2.4492 +
  2.4493 +"I am frightfully confused regarding time and place; but I am so far 
  2.4494 +mended as to feel that." 
  2.4495 +
  2.4496 +"It must be an immense satisfaction!" 
  2.4497 +
  2.4498 +He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass again: which was a large one. 
  2.4499 +
  2.4500 +"As to me, the greatest desire I have, is to forget that I belong to it. It 
  2.4501 +has no good in it for me - except wine like this - nor I for it. So we are 
  2.4502 +not much alike in that particular. Indeed, I begin to think we are not 
  2.4503 +much alike in any particular, you and I." 
  2.4504 +
  2.4505 +
  2.4506 +
  2.4507 +89 
  2.4508 +
  2.4509 +
  2.4510 +
  2.4511 +Confused by the emotion of the day, and feeling his being there with 
  2.4512 +this Double of coarse deportment, to be like a dream, Charles Darnay 
  2.4513 +was at a loss how to answer; finally, answered not at all. 
  2.4514 +
  2.4515 +"Now your dinner is done," Carton presently said, "why don't you 
  2.4516 +call a health, Mr. Darnay; why don't you give your toast?" 
  2.4517 +
  2.4518 +"What health? What toast?" 
  2.4519 +
  2.4520 +"Why, it's on the tip of your tongue. It ought to be, it must be, I'll 
  2.4521 +swear it's there." 
  2.4522 +
  2.4523 +"Miss Manette, then!" 
  2.4524 +
  2.4525 +"Miss Manette, then!" 
  2.4526 +
  2.4527 +Looking his companion full in the face while he drank the toast, Car- 
  2.4528 +ton flung his glass over his shoulder against the wall, where it shivered 
  2.4529 +to pieces; then, rang the bell, and ordered in another. 
  2.4530 +
  2.4531 +"That's a fair young lady to hand to a coach in the dark, Mr. Darnay!" 
  2.4532 +he said, ruing his new goblet. 
  2.4533 +
  2.4534 +A slight frown and a laconic "Yes," were the answer. 
  2.4535 +
  2.4536 +"That's a fair young lady to be pitied by and wept for by! How does it 
  2.4537 +feel? Is it worth being tried for one's life, to be the object of such sym- 
  2.4538 +pathy and compassion, Mr. Darnay?" 
  2.4539 +
  2.4540 +Again Darnay answered not a word. 
  2.4541 +
  2.4542 +"She was mightily pleased to have your message, when I gave it her. 
  2.4543 +Not that she showed she was pleased, but I suppose she was." 
  2.4544 +
  2.4545 +The allusion served as a timely reminder to Darnay that this disagree- 
  2.4546 +able companion had, of his own free will, assisted him in the strait of the 
  2.4547 +day. He turned the dialogue to that point, and thanked him for it. 
  2.4548 +
  2.4549 +"I neither want any thanks, nor merit any," was the careless rejoinder. 
  2.4550 +"It was nothing to do, in the first place; and I don't know why I did it, in 
  2.4551 +the second. Mr. Darnay, let me ask you a question." 
  2.4552 +
  2.4553 +"Willingly, and a small return for your good offices." 
  2.4554 +
  2.4555 +"Do you think I particularly like you?" 
  2.4556 +
  2.4557 +"Really, Mr. Carton," returned the other, oddly disconcerted, "I have 
  2.4558 +not asked myself the question." 
  2.4559 +
  2.4560 +"But ask yourself the question now." 
  2.4561 +
  2.4562 +"You have acted as if you do; but I don't think you do." 
  2.4563 +
  2.4564 +"I don't think I do," said Carton. "I begin to have a very good opinion 
  2.4565 +of your understanding." 
  2.4566 +
  2.4567 +
  2.4568 +
  2.4569 +90 
  2.4570 +
  2.4571 +
  2.4572 +
  2.4573 +"Nevertheless," pursued Darnay, rising to ring the bell, "there is noth- 
  2.4574 +ing in that, I hope, to prevent my calling the reckoning, and our parting 
  2.4575 +without ill-blood on either side." 
  2.4576 +
  2.4577 +Carton rejoining, "Nothing in life!" Darnay rang. "Do you call the 
  2.4578 +whole reckoning?" said Carton. On his answering in the affirmative, 
  2.4579 +"Then bring me another pint of this same wine, drawer, and come and 
  2.4580 +wake me at ten." 
  2.4581 +
  2.4582 +The bill being paid, Charles Darnay rose and wished him good night. 
  2.4583 +Without returning the wish, Carton rose too, with something of a threat 
  2.4584 +of defiance in his manner, and said, "A last word, Mr. Darnay: you think 
  2.4585 +I am drunk?" 
  2.4586 +
  2.4587 +"I think you have been drinking, Mr. Carton." 
  2.4588 +
  2.4589 +"Think? You know I have been drinking." 
  2.4590 +
  2.4591 +"Since I must say so, I know it." 
  2.4592 +
  2.4593 +"Then you shall likewise know why. I am a disappointed drudge, sir. I 
  2.4594 +care for no man on earth, and no man on earth cares for me." 
  2.4595 +
  2.4596 +"Much to be regretted. You might have used your talents better." 
  2.4597 +
  2.4598 +"May be so, Mr. Darnay; may be not. Don't let your sober face elate 
  2.4599 +you, however; you don't know what it may come to. Good night!" 
  2.4600 +
  2.4601 +When he was left alone, this strange being took up a candle, went to a 
  2.4602 +glass that hung against the wall, and surveyed himself minutely in it. 
  2.4603 +
  2.4604 +"Do you particularly like the man?" he muttered, at his own image; 
  2.4605 +"why should you particularly like a man who resembles you? There is 
  2.4606 +nothing in you to like; you know that. Ah, confound you! What a change 
  2.4607 +you have made in yourself! A good reason for taking to a man, that he 
  2.4608 +shows you what you have fallen away from, and what you might have 
  2.4609 +been! Change places with him, and would you have been looked at by 
  2.4610 +those blue eyes as he was, and commiserated by that agitated face as he 
  2.4611 +was? Come on, and have it out in plain words! You hate the fellow." 
  2.4612 +
  2.4613 +He resorted to his pint of wine for consolation, drank it all in a few 
  2.4614 +minutes, and fell asleep on his arms, with his hair straggling over the 
  2.4615 +table, and a long winding-sheet in the candle dripping down upon him. 
  2.4616 +
  2.4617 +
  2.4618 +
  2.4619 +91 
  2.4620 +
  2.4621 +
  2.4622 +
  2.4623 +Chapter 
  2.4624 +
  2.4625 +
  2.4626 +
  2.4627 +5 
  2.4628 +
  2.4629 +
  2.4630 +
  2.4631 +The Jackal 
  2.4632 +
  2.4633 +Those were drinking days, and most men drank hard. So very great is 
  2.4634 +the improvement Time has brought about in such habits, that a moderate 
  2.4635 +statement of the quantity of wine and punch which one man would 
  2.4636 +swallow in the course of a night, without any detriment to his reputation 
  2.4637 +as a perfect gentleman, would seem, in these days, a ridiculous exaggera- 
  2.4638 +tion. The learned profession of the law was certainly not behind any oth- 
  2.4639 +er learned profession in its Bacchanalian propensities; neither was Mr. 
  2.4640 +Stryver, already fast shouldering his way to a large and lucrative prac- 
  2.4641 +tice, behind his compeers in this particular, any more than in the drier 
  2.4642 +parts of the legal race. 
  2.4643 +
  2.4644 +A favourite at the Old Bailey, and eke at the Sessions, Mr. Stryver had 
  2.4645 +begun cautiously to hew away the lower staves of the ladder on which 
  2.4646 +he mounted. Sessions and Old Bailey had now to summon their favour- 
  2.4647 +ite, specially, to their longing arms; and shouldering itself towards the 
  2.4648 +visage of the Lord Chief Justice in the Court of King's Bench, the florid 
  2.4649 +countenance of Mr. Stryver might be daily seen, bursting out of the bed 
  2.4650 +of wigs, like a great sunflower pushing its way at the sun from among a 
  2.4651 +rank garden-full of flaring companions. 
  2.4652 +
  2.4653 +It had once been noted at the Bar, that while Mr. Stryver was a glib 
  2.4654 +man, and an unscrupulous, and a ready, and a bold, he had not that fac- 
  2.4655 +ulty of extracting the essence from a heap of statements, which is among 
  2.4656 +the most striking and necessary of the advocate's accomplishments. But, 
  2.4657 +a remarkable improvement came upon him as to this. The more business 
  2.4658 +he got, the greater his power seemed to grow of getting at its pith and 
  2.4659 +marrow; and however late at night he sat carousing with Sydney Carton, 
  2.4660 +he always had his points at his fingers' ends in the morning. 
  2.4661 +
  2.4662 +Sydney Carton, idlest and most unpromising of men, was Stryver's 
  2.4663 +great ally. What the two drank together, between Hilary Term and Mi- 
  2.4664 +chaelmas, might have floated a king's ship. Stryver never had a case in 
  2.4665 +hand, anywhere, but Carton was there, with his hands in his pockets, 
  2.4666 +
  2.4667 +
  2.4668 +
  2.4669 +92 
  2.4670 +
  2.4671 +
  2.4672 +
  2.4673 +staring at the ceiling of the court; they went the same Circuit, and even 
  2.4674 +there they prolonged their usual orgies late into the night, and Carton 
  2.4675 +was rumoured to be seen at broad day, going home stealthily and un- 
  2.4676 +steadily to his lodgings, like a dissipated cat. At last, it began to get 
  2.4677 +about, among such as were interested in the matter, that although 
  2.4678 +Sydney Carton would never be a lion, he was an amazingly good jackal, 
  2.4679 +and that he rendered suit and service to Stryver in that humble capacity. 
  2.4680 +
  2.4681 +"Ten o'clock, sir," said the man at the tavern, whom he had charged to 
  2.4682 +wake him - "ten o'clock, sir." 
  2.4683 +
  2.4684 +"What's the matter?" 
  2.4685 +
  2.4686 +"Ten o'clock, sir." 
  2.4687 +
  2.4688 +"What do you mean? Ten o'clock at night?" 
  2.4689 +
  2.4690 +"Yes, sir. Your honour told me to call you." 
  2.4691 +
  2.4692 +"Oh! I remember. Very well, very well." 
  2.4693 +
  2.4694 +After a few dull efforts to get to sleep again, which the man dexter- 
  2.4695 +ously combated by stirring the fire continuously for five minutes, he got 
  2.4696 +up, tossed his hat on, and walked out. He turned into the Temple, and, 
  2.4697 +having revived himself by twice pacing the pavements of King's Bench- 
  2.4698 +walk and Paper-buildings, turned into the Stryver chambers. 
  2.4699 +
  2.4700 +The Stryver clerk, who never assisted at these conferences, had gone 
  2.4701 +home, and the Stryver principal opened the door. He had his slippers on, 
  2.4702 +and a loose bed-gown, and his throat was bare for his greater ease. He 
  2.4703 +had that rather wild, strained, seared marking about the eyes, which 
  2.4704 +may be observed in all free livers of his class, from the portrait of Jeffries 
  2.4705 +downward, and which can be traced, under various disguises of Art, 
  2.4706 +through the portraits of every Drinking Age. 
  2.4707 +
  2.4708 +"You are a little late, Memory," said Stryver. 
  2.4709 +
  2.4710 +"About the usual time; it may be a quarter of an hour later." 
  2.4711 +
  2.4712 +They went into a dingy room lined with books and littered with pa- 
  2.4713 +pers, where there was a blazing fire. A kettle steamed upon the hob, and 
  2.4714 +in the midst of the wreck of papers a table shone, with plenty of wine 
  2.4715 +upon it, and brandy, and rum, and sugar, and lemons. 
  2.4716 +
  2.4717 +"You have had your bottle, I perceive, Sydney." 
  2.4718 +
  2.4719 +"Two to-night, I think. I have been dining with the day's client; or see- 
  2.4720 +ing him dine - it's all one!" 
  2.4721 +
  2.4722 +"That was a rare point, Sydney, that you brought to bear upon the 
  2.4723 +identification. How did you come by it? When did it strike you?" 
  2.4724 +
  2.4725 +
  2.4726 +
  2.4727 +93 
  2.4728 +
  2.4729 +
  2.4730 +
  2.4731 +"I thought he was rather a handsome fellow, and I thought I should 
  2.4732 +have been much the same sort of fellow, if I had had any luck." 
  2.4733 +
  2.4734 +Mr. Stryver laughed till he shook his precocious paunch. 
  2.4735 +
  2.4736 +"You and your luck, Sydney! Get to work, get to work." 
  2.4737 +
  2.4738 +Sullenly enough, the jackal loosened his dress, went into an adjoining 
  2.4739 +room, and came back with a large jug of cold water, a basin, and a towel 
  2.4740 +or two. Steeping the towels in the water, and partially wringing them 
  2.4741 +out, he folded them on his head in a manner hideous to behold, sat down 
  2.4742 +at the table, and said, "Now I am ready!" 
  2.4743 +
  2.4744 +"Not much boiling down to be done to-night, Memory," said Mr. 
  2.4745 +Stryver, gaily, as he looked among his papers. 
  2.4746 +
  2.4747 +"How much?" 
  2.4748 +
  2.4749 +"Only two sets of them." 
  2.4750 +
  2.4751 +"Give me the worst first." 
  2.4752 +
  2.4753 +"There they are, Sydney. Fire away!" 
  2.4754 +
  2.4755 +The lion then composed himself on his back on a sofa on one side of 
  2.4756 +the drinking-table, while the jackal sat at his own paper-bestrewn table 
  2.4757 +proper, on the other side of it, with the bottles and glasses ready to his 
  2.4758 +hand. Both resorted to the drinking-table without stint, but each in a dif- 
  2.4759 +ferent way; the lion for the most part reclining with his hands in his 
  2.4760 +waistband, looking at the fire, or occasionally flirting with some lighter 
  2.4761 +document; the jackal, with knitted brows and intent face, so deep in his 
  2.4762 +task, that his eyes did not even follow the hand he stretched out for his 
  2.4763 +glass - which often groped about, for a minute or more, before it found 
  2.4764 +the glass for his lips. Two or three times, the matter in hand became so 
  2.4765 +knotty, that the jackal found it imperative on him to get up, and steep his 
  2.4766 +towels anew. From these pilgrimages to the jug and basin, he returned 
  2.4767 +with such eccentricities of damp headgear as no words can describe; 
  2.4768 +which were made the more ludicrous by his anxious gravity. 
  2.4769 +
  2.4770 +At length the jackal had got together a compact repast for the lion, and 
  2.4771 +proceeded to offer it to him. The lion took it with care and caution, made 
  2.4772 +his selections from it, and his remarks upon it, and the jackal assisted 
  2.4773 +both. When the repast was fully discussed, the lion put his hands in his 
  2.4774 +waistband again, and lay down to mediate. The jackal then invigorated 
  2.4775 +himself with a bum for his throttle, and a fresh application to his head, 
  2.4776 +and applied himself to the collection of a second meal; this was admin- 
  2.4777 +istered to the lion in the same manner, and was not disposed of until the 
  2.4778 +clocks struck three in the morning. 
  2.4779 +
  2.4780 +
  2.4781 +
  2.4782 +94 
  2.4783 +
  2.4784 +
  2.4785 +
  2.4786 +"And now we have done, Sydney, fill a bumper of punch," said Mr. 
  2.4787 +Stryver. 
  2.4788 +
  2.4789 +The jackal removed the towels from his head, which had been steam- 
  2.4790 +ing again, shook himself, yawned, shivered, and complied. 
  2.4791 +
  2.4792 +"You were very sound, Sydney, in the matter of those crown witnesses 
  2.4793 +to-day. Every question told." 
  2.4794 +
  2.4795 +"I always am sound; am I not?" 
  2.4796 +
  2.4797 +"I don't gainsay it. What has roughened your temper? Put some punch 
  2.4798 +to it and smooth it again." 
  2.4799 +
  2.4800 +With a deprecatory grunt, the jackal again complied. 
  2.4801 +
  2.4802 +"The old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School," said Stryver, nod- 
  2.4803 +ding his head over him as he reviewed him in the present and the past, 
  2.4804 +"the old seesaw Sydney. Up one minute and down the next; now in spir- 
  2.4805 +its and now in despondency!" 
  2.4806 +
  2.4807 +"Ah!" returned the other, sighing: "yes! The same Sydney, with the 
  2.4808 +same luck. Even then, I did exercises for other boys, and seldom did my 
  2.4809 +own. 
  2.4810 +
  2.4811 +"And why not?" 
  2.4812 +
  2.4813 +"God knows. It was my way, I suppose." 
  2.4814 +
  2.4815 +He sat, with his hands in his pockets and his legs stretched out before 
  2.4816 +him, looking at the fire. 
  2.4817 +
  2.4818 +"Carton," said his friend, squaring himself at him with a bullying air, 
  2.4819 +as if the fire-grate had been the furnace in which sustained endeavour 
  2.4820 +was forged, and the one delicate thing to be done for the old Sydney Car- 
  2.4821 +ton of old Shrewsbury School was to shoulder him into it, "your way is, 
  2.4822 +and always was, a lame way. You summon no energy and purpose. Look 
  2.4823 +at me." 
  2.4824 +
  2.4825 +"Oh, botheration!" returned Sydney, with a lighter and more good- 
  2.4826 +humoured laugh, "don't you be moral!" 
  2.4827 +
  2.4828 +"How have I done what I have done?" said Stryver; "how do I do 
  2.4829 +what I do?" 
  2.4830 +
  2.4831 +"Partly through paying me to help you, I suppose. But it's not worth 
  2.4832 +your while to apostrophise me, or the air, about it; what you want to do, 
  2.4833 +you do. You were always in the front rank, and I was always behind." 
  2.4834 +
  2.4835 +"I had to get into the front rank; I was not born there, was I?" 
  2.4836 +
  2.4837 +
  2.4838 +
  2.4839 +95 
  2.4840 +
  2.4841 +
  2.4842 +
  2.4843 +"I was not present at the ceremony; but my opinion is you were," said 
  2.4844 +Carton. At this, he laughed again, and they both laughed. 
  2.4845 +
  2.4846 +"Before Shrewsbury, and at Shrewsbury, and ever since Shrewsbury," 
  2.4847 +pursued Carton, "you have fallen into your rank, and I have fallen into 
  2.4848 +mine. Even when we were fellow-students in the Student-Quarter of Par- 
  2.4849 +is, picking up French, and French law, and other French crumbs that we 
  2.4850 +didn't get much good of, you were always somewhere, and I was always 
  2.4851 +nowhere." 
  2.4852 +
  2.4853 +"And whose fault was that?" 
  2.4854 +
  2.4855 +"Upon my soul, I am not sure that it was not yours. You were always 
  2.4856 +driving and riving and shouldering and passing, to that restless degree 
  2.4857 +that I had no chance for my life but in rust and repose. It's a gloomy 
  2.4858 +thing, however, to talk about one's own past, with the day breaking. 
  2.4859 +Turn me in some other direction before I go." 
  2.4860 +
  2.4861 +"Well then! Pledge me to the pretty witness," said Stryver, holding up 
  2.4862 +his glass. "Are you turned in a pleasant direction?" 
  2.4863 +
  2.4864 +Apparently not, for he became gloomy again. 
  2.4865 +
  2.4866 +"Pretty witness," he muttered, looking down into his glass. "I have 
  2.4867 +had enough of witnesses to-day and to-night; who's your pretty 
  2.4868 +witness?" 
  2.4869 +
  2.4870 +"The picturesque doctor's daughter, Miss Manette." 
  2.4871 +
  2.4872 +"She pretty?" 
  2.4873 +
  2.4874 +"Is she not?" 
  2.4875 +
  2.4876 +"No." 
  2.4877 +
  2.4878 +"Why, man alive, she was the admiration of the whole Court!" 
  2.4879 +
  2.4880 +"Rot the admiration of the whole Court! Who made the Old Bailey a 
  2.4881 +judge of beauty? She was a golden-haired doll!" 
  2.4882 +
  2.4883 +"Do you know, Sydney," said Mr. Stryver, looking at him with sharp 
  2.4884 +eyes, and slowly drawing a hand across his florid face: "do you know, I 
  2.4885 +rather thought, at the time, that you sympathised with the golden-haired 
  2.4886 +doll, and were quick to see what happened to the golden-haired doll?" 
  2.4887 +
  2.4888 +"Quick to see what happened! If a girl, doll or no doll, swoons within 
  2.4889 +a yard or two of a man's nose, he can see it without a perspective-glass. I 
  2.4890 +pledge you, but I deny the beauty. And now I'll have no more drink; I'll 
  2.4891 +get to bed." 
  2.4892 +
  2.4893 +When his host followed him out on the staircase with a candle, to light 
  2.4894 +him down the stairs, the day was coldly looking in through its grimy 
  2.4895 +
  2.4896 +
  2.4897 +
  2.4898 +96 
  2.4899 +
  2.4900 +
  2.4901 +
  2.4902 +windows. When he got out of the house, the air was cold and sad, the 
  2.4903 +dull sky overcast, the river dark and dim, the whole scene like a lifeless 
  2.4904 +desert. And wreaths of dust were spinning round and round before the 
  2.4905 +morning blast, as if the desert-sand had risen far away, and the first 
  2.4906 +spray of it in its advance had begun to overwhelm the city. 
  2.4907 +
  2.4908 +Waste forces within him, and a desert all around, this man stood still 
  2.4909 +on his way across a silent terrace, and saw for a moment, lying in the 
  2.4910 +wilderness before him, a mirage of honourable ambition, self-denial, and 
  2.4911 +perseverance. In the fair city of this vision, there were airy galleries from 
  2.4912 +which the loves and graces looked upon him, gardens in which the fruits 
  2.4913 +of life hung ripening, waters of Hope that sparkled in his sight. A mo- 
  2.4914 +ment, and it was gone. Climbing to a high chamber in a well of houses, 
  2.4915 +he threw himself down in his clothes on a neglected bed, and its pillow 
  2.4916 +was wet with wasted tears. 
  2.4917 +
  2.4918 +Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of 
  2.4919 +good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise, in- 
  2.4920 +capable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight on 
  2.4921 +him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away. 
  2.4922 +
  2.4923 +
  2.4924 +
  2.4925 +97 
  2.4926 +
  2.4927 +
  2.4928 +
  2.4929 +Chapter 
  2.4930 +
  2.4931 +
  2.4932 +
  2.4933 +6 
  2.4934 +
  2.4935 +
  2.4936 +
  2.4937 +Hundreds of People 
  2.4938 +
  2.4939 +The quiet lodgings of Doctor Manette were in a quiet street-corner not 
  2.4940 +far from Soho-square. On the afternoon of a certain fine Sunday when 
  2.4941 +the waves of four months had roiled over the trial for treason, and car- 
  2.4942 +ried it, as to the public interest and memory, far out to sea, Mr. Jarvis 
  2.4943 +Lorry walked along the sunny streets from Clerkenwell where he lived, 
  2.4944 +on his way to dine with the Doctor. After several relapses into business- 
  2.4945 +absorption, Mr. Lorry had become the Doctor's friend, and the quiet 
  2.4946 +street-corner was the sunny part of his life. 
  2.4947 +
  2.4948 +On this certain fine Sunday, Mr. Lorry walked towards Soho, early in 
  2.4949 +the afternoon, for three reasons of habit. Firstly, because, on fine 
  2.4950 +Sundays, he often walked out, before dinner, with the Doctor and Lucie; 
  2.4951 +secondly, because, on unfavourable Sundays, he was accustomed to be 
  2.4952 +with them as the family friend, talking, reading, looking out of window, 
  2.4953 +and generally getting through the day; thirdly, because he happened to 
  2.4954 +have his own little shrewd doubts to solve, and knew how the ways of 
  2.4955 +the Doctor's household pointed to that time as a likely time for solving 
  2.4956 +them. 
  2.4957 +
  2.4958 +A quainter corner than the corner where the Doctor lived, was not to 
  2.4959 +be found in London. There was no way through it, and the front win- 
  2.4960 +dows of the Doctor's lodgings commanded a pleasant little vista of street 
  2.4961 +that had a congenial air of retirement on it. There were few buildings 
  2.4962 +then, north of the Oxford-road, and forest-trees flourished, and wild 
  2.4963 +flowers grew, and the hawthorn blossomed, in the now vanished fields. 
  2.4964 +As a consequence, country airs circulated in Soho with vigorous free- 
  2.4965 +dom, instead of languishing into the parish like stray paupers without a 
  2.4966 +settlement; and there was many a good south wall, not far off, on which 
  2.4967 +the peaches ripened in their season. 
  2.4968 +
  2.4969 +The summer light struck into the corner brilliantly in the earlier part of 
  2.4970 +the day; but, when the streets grew hot, the corner was in shadow, 
  2.4971 +though not in shadow so remote but that you could see beyond it into a 
  2.4972 +
  2.4973 +
  2.4974 +
  2.4975 +98 
  2.4976 +
  2.4977 +
  2.4978 +
  2.4979 +glare of brightness. It was a cool spot, staid but cheerful, a wonderful 
  2.4980 +place for echoes, and a very harbour from the raging streets. 
  2.4981 +
  2.4982 +There ought to have been a tranquil bark in such an anchorage, and 
  2.4983 +there was. The Doctor occupied two floors of a large stiff house, where 
  2.4984 +several callings purported to be pursued by day, but whereof little was 
  2.4985 +audible any day, and which was shunned by all of them at night. In a 
  2.4986 +building at the back, attainable by a courtyard where a plane-tree rustled 
  2.4987 +its green leaves, church-organs claimed to be made, and silver to be 
  2.4988 +chased, and likewise gold to be beaten by some mysterious giant who 
  2.4989 +had a golden arm starting out of the wall of the front hall - as if he had 
  2.4990 +beaten himself precious, and menaced a similar conversion of all visitors. 
  2.4991 +Very little of these trades, or of a lonely lodger rumoured to live up- 
  2.4992 +stairs, or of a dim coach-trimming maker asserted to have a counting- 
  2.4993 +house below, was ever heard or seen. Occasionally, a stray workman 
  2.4994 +putting his coat on, traversed the hall, or a stranger peered about there, 
  2.4995 +or a distant clink was heard across the courtyard, or a thump from the 
  2.4996 +golden giant. These, however, were only the exceptions required to 
  2.4997 +prove the rule that the sparrows in the plane-tree behind the house, and 
  2.4998 +the echoes in the corner before it, had their own way from Sunday morn- 
  2.4999 +ing unto Saturday night. 
  2.5000 +
  2.5001 +Doctor Manette received such patients here as his old reputation, and 
  2.5002 +its revival in the floating whispers of his story, brought him. His scientif- 
  2.5003 +ic knowledge, and his vigilance and skill in conducting ingenious experi- 
  2.5004 +ments, brought him otherwise into moderate request, and he earned as 
  2.5005 +much as he wanted. 
  2.5006 +
  2.5007 +These things were within Mr. Jarvis Lorry's knowledge, thoughts, and 
  2.5008 +notice, when he rang the door-bell of the tranquil house in the corner, on 
  2.5009 +the fine Sunday afternoon. 
  2.5010 +
  2.5011 +"Doctor Manette at home?" 
  2.5012 +
  2.5013 +Expected home. 
  2.5014 +
  2.5015 +"Miss Lucie at home?" 
  2.5016 +
  2.5017 +Expected home. 
  2.5018 +
  2.5019 +"Miss Pross at home?" 
  2.5020 +
  2.5021 +Possibly at home, but of a certainty impossible for handmaid to anti- 
  2.5022 +cipate intentions of Miss Pross, as to admission or denial of the fact. 
  2.5023 +
  2.5024 +"As I am at home myself," said Mr. Lorry, "I'll go upstairs." 
  2.5025 +
  2.5026 +Although the Doctor's daughter had known nothing of the country of 
  2.5027 +her birth, she appeared to have innately derived from it that ability to 
  2.5028 +
  2.5029 +
  2.5030 +
  2.5031 +99 
  2.5032 +
  2.5033 +
  2.5034 +
  2.5035 +make much of little means, which is one of its most useful and most 
  2.5036 +agreeable characteristics. Simple as the furniture was, it was set off by so 
  2.5037 +many little adornments, of no value but for their taste and fancy, that its 
  2.5038 +effect was delightful. The disposition of everything in the rooms, from 
  2.5039 +the largest object to the least; the arrangement of colours, the elegant 
  2.5040 +variety and contrast obtained by thrift in trifles, by delicate hands, clear 
  2.5041 +eyes, and good sense; were at once so pleasant in themselves, and so ex- 
  2.5042 +pressive of their originator, that, as Mr. Lorry stood looking about him, 
  2.5043 +the very chairs and tables seemed to ask him, with something of that pe- 
  2.5044 +culiar expression which he knew so well by this time, whether he 
  2.5045 +approved? 
  2.5046 +
  2.5047 +There were three rooms on a floor, and, the doors by which they com- 
  2.5048 +municated being put open that the air might pass freely through them 
  2.5049 +all, Mr. Lorry, smilingly observant of that fanciful resemblance which he 
  2.5050 +detected all around him, walked from one to another. The first was the 
  2.5051 +best room, and in it were Lucie's birds, and flowers, and books, and 
  2.5052 +desk, and work-table, and box of water-colours; the second was the Doc- 
  2.5053 +tor's consulting-room, used also as the dining-room; the third, chan- 
  2.5054 +gingly speckled by the rustle of the plane-tree in the yard, was the Doc- 
  2.5055 +tor's bedroom, and there, in a corner, stood the disused shoemaker's 
  2.5056 +bench and tray of tools, much as it had stood on the fifth floor of the dis- 
  2.5057 +mal house by the wine-shop, in the suburb of Saint Antoine in Paris. 
  2.5058 +
  2.5059 +"I wonder," said Mr. Lorry, pausing in his looking about, "that he 
  2.5060 +keeps that reminder of his sufferings about him!" 
  2.5061 +
  2.5062 +"And why wonder at that?" was the abrupt inquiry that made him 
  2.5063 +start. 
  2.5064 +
  2.5065 +It proceeded from Miss Pross, the wild red woman, strong of hand, 
  2.5066 +whose acquaintance he had first made at the Royal George Hotel at 
  2.5067 +Dover, and had since improved. 
  2.5068 +
  2.5069 +"I should have thought - " Mr. Lorry began. 
  2.5070 +
  2.5071 +"Pooh! You'd have thought!" said Miss Pross; and Mr. Lorry left off. 
  2.5072 +
  2.5073 +"How do you do?" inquired that lady then - sharply, and yet as if to 
  2.5074 +express that she bore him no malice. 
  2.5075 +
  2.5076 +"I am pretty well, I thank you," answered Mr. Lorry, with meekness; 
  2.5077 +"how are you?" 
  2.5078 +
  2.5079 +"Nothing to boast of," said Miss Pross. 
  2.5080 +
  2.5081 +"Indeed?" 
  2.5082 +
  2.5083 +
  2.5084 +
  2.5085 +100 
  2.5086 +
  2.5087 +
  2.5088 +
  2.5089 +"Ah! indeed!" said Miss Pross. "I am very much put out about my 
  2.5090 +Ladybird." 
  2.5091 +
  2.5092 +"Indeed?" 
  2.5093 +
  2.5094 +"For gracious sake say something else besides 'indeed/ or you'll fidget 
  2.5095 +me to death," said Miss Pross: whose character (dissociated from stature) 
  2.5096 +was shortness. 
  2.5097 +
  2.5098 +"Really, then?" said Mr. Lorry, as an amendment. 
  2.5099 +
  2.5100 +"Really, is bad enough," returned Miss Pross, "but better. Yes, I am 
  2.5101 +very much put out." 
  2.5102 +
  2.5103 +"May I ask the cause?" 
  2.5104 +
  2.5105 +"I don't want dozens of people who are not at all worthy of Ladybird, 
  2.5106 +to come here looking after her," said Miss Pross. 
  2.5107 +
  2.5108 +"DO dozens come for that purpose?" 
  2.5109 +
  2.5110 +"Hundreds," said Miss Pross. 
  2.5111 +
  2.5112 +It was characteristic of this lady (as of some other people before her 
  2.5113 +time and since) that whenever her original proposition was questioned, 
  2.5114 +she exaggerated it. 
  2.5115 +
  2.5116 +"Dear me!" said Mr. Lorry, as the safest remark he could think of. 
  2.5117 +
  2.5118 +"I have lived with the darling - or the darling has lived with me, and 
  2.5119 +paid me for it; which she certainly should never have done, you may 
  2.5120 +take your affidavit, if I could have afforded to keep either myself or her 
  2.5121 +for nothing - since she was ten years old. And it's really very hard," said 
  2.5122 +Miss Pross. 
  2.5123 +
  2.5124 +Not seeing with precision what was very hard, Mr. Lorry shook his 
  2.5125 +head; using that important part of himself as a sort of fairy cloak that 
  2.5126 +would fit anything. 
  2.5127 +
  2.5128 +"All sorts of people who are not in the least degree worthy of the pet, 
  2.5129 +are always turning up," said Miss Pross. "When you began it - " 
  2.5130 +
  2.5131 +"I began it, Miss Pross?" 
  2.5132 +
  2.5133 +"Didn't you? Who brought her father to life?" 
  2.5134 +
  2.5135 +"Oh! If that was beginning it - " said Mr. Lorry. 
  2.5136 +
  2.5137 +"It wasn't ending it, I suppose? I say, when you began it, it was hard 
  2.5138 +enough; not that I have any fault to find with Doctor Manette, except 
  2.5139 +that he is not worthy of such a daughter, which is no imputation on him, 
  2.5140 +for it was not to be expected that anybody should be, under any circum- 
  2.5141 +stances. But it ready is doubly and trebly hard to have crowds and 
  2.5142 +
  2.5143 +
  2.5144 +
  2.5145 +101 
  2.5146 +
  2.5147 +
  2.5148 +
  2.5149 +multitudes of people turning up after him (I could have forgiven him), to 
  2.5150 +take Ladybird's affections away from me." 
  2.5151 +
  2.5152 +Mr. Lorry knew Miss Pross to be very jealous, but he also knew her by 
  2.5153 +this time to be, beneath the service of her eccentricity, one of those un- 
  2.5154 +selfish creatures - found only among women - who will, for pure love 
  2.5155 +and admiration, bind themselves willing slaves, to youth when they 
  2.5156 +have lost it, to beauty that they never had, to accomplishments that they 
  2.5157 +were never fortunate enough to gain, to bright hopes that never shone 
  2.5158 +upon their own sombre lives. He knew enough of the world to know that 
  2.5159 +there is nothing in it better than the faithful service of the heart; so 
  2.5160 +rendered and so free from any mercenary taint, he had such an exalted 
  2.5161 +respect for it, that in the retributive arrangements made by his own 
  2.5162 +mind - we all make such arrangements, more or less - he stationed Miss 
  2.5163 +Pross much nearer to the lower Angels than many ladies immeasurably 
  2.5164 +better got up both by Nature and Art, who had balances at Tellson's. 
  2.5165 +
  2.5166 +"There never was, nor will be, but one man worthy of Ladybird," said 
  2.5167 +Miss Pross; "and that was my brother Solomon, if he hadn't made a mis- 
  2.5168 +take in life." 
  2.5169 +
  2.5170 +Here again Mr. Lorry's inquiries into Miss Pross's personal history had 
  2.5171 +established the fact that her brother Solomon was a heartless scoundrel 
  2.5172 +who had stripped her of everything she possessed, as a stake to specu- 
  2.5173 +late with, and had abandoned her in her poverty for evermore, with no 
  2.5174 +touch of compunction. Miss Pross's fidelity of belief in Solomon 
  2.5175 +(deducting a mere trifle for this slight mistake) was quite a serious mat- 
  2.5176 +ter with Mr. Lorry, and had its weight in his good opinion of her. "As we 
  2.5177 +happen to be alone for the moment, and are both people of business," he 
  2.5178 +said, when they had got back to the drawing-room and had sat down 
  2.5179 +there in friendly relations, "let me ask you - does the Doctor, in talking 
  2.5180 +with Lucie, never refer to the shoemaking time, yet?" 
  2.5181 +
  2.5182 +"Never." 
  2.5183 +
  2.5184 +"And yet keeps that bench and those tools beside him?" 
  2.5185 +
  2.5186 +"Ah!" returned Miss Pross, shaking her head. "But I don't say he don't 
  2.5187 +refer to it within himself." 
  2.5188 +
  2.5189 +"Do you believe that he thinks of it much?" 
  2.5190 +
  2.5191 +"I do," said Miss Pross. 
  2.5192 +
  2.5193 +"Do you imagine - " Mr. Lorry had begun, when Miss Pross took him 
  2.5194 +up short with: 
  2.5195 +
  2.5196 +"Never imagine anything. Have no imagination at all." 
  2.5197 +
  2.5198 +
  2.5199 +
  2.5200 +102 
  2.5201 +
  2.5202 +
  2.5203 +
  2.5204 +"I stand corrected; do you suppose - you go so far as to suppose, 
  2.5205 +sometimes?" 
  2.5206 +
  2.5207 +"Now and then," said Miss Pross. 
  2.5208 +
  2.5209 +"Do you suppose," Mr. Lorry went on, with a laughing twinkle in his 
  2.5210 +bright eye, as it looked kindly at her, "that Doctor Manette has any the- 
  2.5211 +ory of his own, preserved through all those years, relative to the cause of 
  2.5212 +his being so oppressed; perhaps, even to the name of his oppressor?" 
  2.5213 +
  2.5214 +"I don't suppose anything about it but what Ladybird tells me." 
  2.5215 +
  2.5216 +"And that is-?" 
  2.5217 +
  2.5218 +"That she thinks he has." 
  2.5219 +
  2.5220 +"Now don't be angry at my asking all these questions; because I am a 
  2.5221 +mere dull man of business, and you are a woman of business." 
  2.5222 +
  2.5223 +"Dull?" Miss Pross inquired, with placidity. 
  2.5224 +
  2.5225 +Rather wishing his modest adjective away, Mr. Lorry replied, "No, no, 
  2.5226 +no. Surely not. To return to business: - Is it not remarkable that Doctor 
  2.5227 +Manette, unquestionably innocent of any crane as we are all well assured 
  2.5228 +he is, should never touch upon that question? I will not say with me, 
  2.5229 +though he had business relations with me many years ago, and we are 
  2.5230 +now intimate; I will say with the fair daughter to whom he is so de- 
  2.5231 +votedly attached, and who is so devotedly attached to him? Believe me, 
  2.5232 +Miss Pross, I don't approach the topic with you, out of curiosity, but out 
  2.5233 +of zealous interest." 
  2.5234 +
  2.5235 +"Well! To the best of my understanding, and bad's the best, you'll tell 
  2.5236 +me," said Miss Pross, softened by the tone of the apology, "he is afraid of 
  2.5237 +the whole subject." 
  2.5238 +
  2.5239 +"Afraid?" 
  2.5240 +
  2.5241 +"It's plain enough, I should think, why he may be. It's a dreadful re- 
  2.5242 +membrance. Besides that, his loss of himself grew out of it. Not knowing 
  2.5243 +how he lost himself, or how he recovered himself, he may never feel cer- 
  2.5244 +tain of not losing himself again. That alone wouldn't make the subject 
  2.5245 +pleasant, I should think." 
  2.5246 +
  2.5247 +It was a profounder remark than Mr. Lorry had looked for. "True," 
  2.5248 +said he, "and fearful to reflect upon. Yet, a doubt lurks in my mind, Miss 
  2.5249 +Pross, whether it is good for Doctor Manette to have that suppression al- 
  2.5250 +ways shut up within him. Indeed, it is this doubt and the uneasiness it 
  2.5251 +sometimes causes me that has led me to our present confidence." 
  2.5252 +
  2.5253 +
  2.5254 +
  2.5255 +103 
  2.5256 +
  2.5257 +
  2.5258 +
  2.5259 +"Can't be helped," said Miss Pross, shaking her head. "Touch that 
  2.5260 +string, and he instantly changes for the worse. Better leave it alone. In 
  2.5261 +short, must leave it alone, like or no like. Sometimes, he gets up in the 
  2.5262 +dead of the night, and will be heard, by us overhead there, walking up 
  2.5263 +and down, walking up and down, in his room. Ladybird has learnt to 
  2.5264 +know then that his mind is walking up and down, walking up and 
  2.5265 +down, in his old prison. She hurries to him, and they go on together, 
  2.5266 +walking up and down, walking up and down, until he is composed. But 
  2.5267 +he never says a word of the true reason of his restlessness, to her, and 
  2.5268 +she finds it best not to hint at it to him. In silence they go walking up and 
  2.5269 +down together, walking up and down together, till her love and com- 
  2.5270 +pany have brought him to himself." 
  2.5271 +
  2.5272 +Notwithstanding Miss Pross's denial of her own imagination, there 
  2.5273 +was a perception of the pain of being monotonously haunted by one sad 
  2.5274 +idea, in her repetition of the phrase, walking up and down, which testi- 
  2.5275 +fied to her possessing such a thing. 
  2.5276 +
  2.5277 +The corner has been mentioned as a wonderful corner for echoes; it 
  2.5278 +had begun to echo so resoundingly to the tread of coming feet, that it 
  2.5279 +seemed as though the very mention of that weary pacing to and fro had 
  2.5280 +set it going. 
  2.5281 +
  2.5282 +"Here they are!" said Miss Pross, rising to break up the conference; 
  2.5283 +"and now we shall have hundreds of people pretty soon!" 
  2.5284 +
  2.5285 +It was such a curious corner in its acoustical properties, such a peculiar 
  2.5286 +Ear of a place, that as Mr. Lorry stood at the open window, looking for 
  2.5287 +the father and daughter whose steps he heard, he fancied they would 
  2.5288 +never approach. Not only would the echoes die away, as though the 
  2.5289 +steps had gone; but, echoes of other steps that never came would be 
  2.5290 +heard in their stead, and would die away for good when they seemed 
  2.5291 +close at hand. However, father and daughter did at last appear, and Miss 
  2.5292 +Pross was ready at the street door to receive them. 
  2.5293 +
  2.5294 +Miss Pross was a pleasant sight, albeit wild, and red, and grim, taking 
  2.5295 +off her darling's bonnet when she came up-stairs, and touching it up 
  2.5296 +with the ends of her handkerchief, and blowing the dust off it, and fold- 
  2.5297 +ing her mantle ready for laying by, and smoothing her rich hair with as 
  2.5298 +much pride as she could possibly have taken in her own hair if she had 
  2.5299 +been the vainest and handsomest of women. Her darling was a pleasant 
  2.5300 +sight too, embracing her and thanking her, and protesting against her 
  2.5301 +taking so much trouble for her - which last she only dared to do play- 
  2.5302 +fully, or Miss Pross, sorely hurt, would have retired to her own chamber 
  2.5303 +
  2.5304 +
  2.5305 +
  2.5306 +104 
  2.5307 +
  2.5308 +
  2.5309 +
  2.5310 +and cried. The Doctor was a pleasant sight too, looking on at them, and 
  2.5311 +telling Miss Pross how she spoilt Lucie, in accents and with eyes that had 
  2.5312 +as much spoiling in them as Miss Pross had, and would have had more if 
  2.5313 +it were possible. Mr. Lorry was a pleasant sight too, beaming at all this in 
  2.5314 +his little wig, and thanking his bachelor stars for having lighted him in 
  2.5315 +his declining years to a Home. But, no Hundreds of people came to see 
  2.5316 +the sights, and Mr. Lorry looked in vain for the fulfilment of Miss Pross's 
  2.5317 +prediction. 
  2.5318 +
  2.5319 +Dinner-time, and still no Hundreds of people. In the arrangements of 
  2.5320 +the little household, Miss Pross took charge of the lower regions, and al- 
  2.5321 +ways acquitted herself marvellously. Her dinners, of a very modest qual- 
  2.5322 +ity, were so well cooked and so well served, and so neat in their contriv- 
  2.5323 +ances, half English and half French, that nothing could be better. Miss 
  2.5324 +Pross's friendship being of the thoroughly practical kind, she had rav- 
  2.5325 +aged Soho and the adjacent provinces, in search of impoverished French, 
  2.5326 +who, tempted by shillings and half- crowns, would impart culinary mys- 
  2.5327 +teries to her. From these decayed sons and daughters of Gaul, she had 
  2.5328 +acquired such wonderful arts, that the woman and girl who formed the 
  2.5329 +staff of domestics regarded her as quite a Sorceress, or Cinderella's God- 
  2.5330 +mother: who would send out for a fowl, a rabbit, a vegetable or two from 
  2.5331 +the garden, and change them into anything she pleased. 
  2.5332 +
  2.5333 +On Sundays, Miss Pross dined at the Doctor's table, but on other days 
  2.5334 +persisted in taking her meals at unknown periods, either in the lower re- 
  2.5335 +gions, or in her own room on the second floor - a blue chamber, to which 
  2.5336 +no one but her Ladybird ever gained admittance. On this occasion, Miss 
  2.5337 +Pross, responding to Ladybird's pleasant face and pleasant efforts to 
  2.5338 +please her, unbent exceedingly; so the dinner was very pleasant, too. 
  2.5339 +
  2.5340 +It was an oppressive day, and, after dinner, Lucie proposed that the 
  2.5341 +wine should be carried out under the plane-tree, and they should sit 
  2.5342 +there in the air. As everything turned upon her, and revolved about her, 
  2.5343 +they went out under the plane-tree, and she carried the wine down for 
  2.5344 +the special benefit of Mr. Lorry. She had installed herself, some time be- 
  2.5345 +fore, as Mr. Lorry's cup-bearer; and while they sat under the plane-tree, 
  2.5346 +talking, she kept his glass replenished. Mysterious backs and ends of 
  2.5347 +houses peeped at them as they talked, and the plane-tree whispered to 
  2.5348 +them in its own way above their heads. 
  2.5349 +
  2.5350 +Still, the Hundreds of people did not present themselves. Mr. Darnay 
  2.5351 +presented himself while they were sitting under the plane-tree, but he 
  2.5352 +was only One. 
  2.5353 +
  2.5354 +
  2.5355 +
  2.5356 +105 
  2.5357 +
  2.5358 +
  2.5359 +
  2.5360 +Doctor Manette received him kindly, and so did Lucie. But, Miss Pross 
  2.5361 +suddenly became afflicted with a twitching in the head and body, and 
  2.5362 +retired into the house. She was not unfrequently the victim of this dis- 
  2.5363 +order, and she called it, in familiar conversation, "a fit of the jerks." 
  2.5364 +
  2.5365 +The Doctor was in his best condition, and looked specially young. The 
  2.5366 +resemblance between him and Lucie was very strong at such times, and 
  2.5367 +as they sat side by side, she leaning on his shoulder, and he resting his 
  2.5368 +arm on the back of her chair, it was very agreeable to trace the likeness. 
  2.5369 +
  2.5370 +He had been talking all day, on many subjects, and with unusual viva- 
  2.5371 +city. "Pray, Doctor Manette," said Mr. Darnay, as they sat under the 
  2.5372 +plane-tree - and he said it in the natural pursuit of the topic in hand, 
  2.5373 +which happened to be the old buildings of London - "have you seen 
  2.5374 +much of the Tower?" 
  2.5375 +
  2.5376 +"Lucie and I have been there; but only casually. We have seen enough 
  2.5377 +of it, to know that it teems with interest; little more." 
  2.5378 +
  2.5379 +"I have been there, as you remember," said Darnay, with a smile, 
  2.5380 +though reddening a little angrily, "in another character, and not in a 
  2.5381 +character that gives facilities for seeing much of it. They told me a curi- 
  2.5382 +ous thing when I was there." 
  2.5383 +
  2.5384 +"What was that?" Lucie asked. 
  2.5385 +
  2.5386 +"In making some alterations, the workmen came upon an old dun- 
  2.5387 +geon, which had been, for many years, built up and forgotten. Every 
  2.5388 +stone of its inner wall was covered by inscriptions which had been 
  2.5389 +carved by prisoners - dates, names, complaints, and prayers. Upon a 
  2.5390 +corner stone in an angle of the wall, one prisoner, who seemed to have 
  2.5391 +gone to execution, had cut as his last work, three letters. They were done 
  2.5392 +with some very poor instrument, and hurriedly, with an unsteady hand. 
  2.5393 +At first, they were read as D. I. C; but, on being more carefully ex- 
  2.5394 +amined, the last letter was found to be G. There was no record or legend 
  2.5395 +of any prisoner with those initials, and many fruitless guesses were 
  2.5396 +made what the name could have been. At length, it was suggested that 
  2.5397 +the letters were not initials, but the complete word, DiG. The floor was 
  2.5398 +examined very carefully under the inscription, and, in the earth beneath 
  2.5399 +a stone, or tile, or some fragment of paving, were found the ashes of a 
  2.5400 +paper, mingled with the ashes of a small leathern case or bag. What the 
  2.5401 +unknown prisoner had written will never be read, but he had written 
  2.5402 +something, and hidden it away to keep it from the gaoler." 
  2.5403 +
  2.5404 +"My father," exclaimed Lucie, "you are ill!" 
  2.5405 +
  2.5406 +
  2.5407 +
  2.5408 +106 
  2.5409 +
  2.5410 +
  2.5411 +
  2.5412 +He had suddenly started up, with his hand to his head. His manner 
  2.5413 +and his look quite terrified them all. 
  2.5414 +
  2.5415 +"No, my dear, not ill. There are large drops of rain falling, and they 
  2.5416 +made me start. We had better go in." 
  2.5417 +
  2.5418 +He recovered himself almost instantly. Rain was really falling in large 
  2.5419 +drops, and he showed the back of his hand with rain-drops on it. But, he 
  2.5420 +said not a single word in reference to the discovery that had been told of, 
  2.5421 +and, as they went into the house, the business eye of Mr. Lorry either de- 
  2.5422 +tected, or fancied it detected, on his face, as it turned towards Charles 
  2.5423 +Darnay, the same singular look that had been upon it when it turned to- 
  2.5424 +wards him in the passages of the Court House. 
  2.5425 +
  2.5426 +He recovered himself so quickly, however, that Mr. Lorry had doubts 
  2.5427 +of his business eye. The arm of the golden giant in the hall was not more 
  2.5428 +steady than he was, when he stopped under it to remark to them that he 
  2.5429 +was not yet proof against slight surprises (if he ever would be), and that 
  2.5430 +the rain had startled him. 
  2.5431 +
  2.5432 +Tea-time, and Miss Pross making tea, with another fit of the jerks upon 
  2.5433 +her, and yet no Hundreds of people. Mr. Carton had lounged in, but he 
  2.5434 +made only Two. 
  2.5435 +
  2.5436 +The night was so very sultry, that although they sat with doors and 
  2.5437 +windows open, they were overpowered by heat. When the tea-table was 
  2.5438 +done with, they all moved to one of the windows, and looked out into 
  2.5439 +the heavy twilight. Lucie sat by her father; Darnay sat beside her; Carton 
  2.5440 +leaned against a window. The curtains were long and white, and some of 
  2.5441 +the thunder-gusts that whirled into the corner, caught them up to the 
  2.5442 +ceiling, and waved them like spectral wings. 
  2.5443 +
  2.5444 +"The rain-drops are still falling, large, heavy, and few," said Doctor 
  2.5445 +Manette. "It comes slowly." 
  2.5446 +
  2.5447 +"It comes surely," said Carton. 
  2.5448 +
  2.5449 +They spoke low, as people watching and waiting mostly do; as people 
  2.5450 +in a dark room, watching and waiting for Lightning, always do. 
  2.5451 +
  2.5452 +There was a great hurry in the streets of people speeding away to get 
  2.5453 +shelter before the storm broke; the wonderful corner for echoes resoun- 
  2.5454 +ded with the echoes of footsteps coming and going, yet not a footstep 
  2.5455 +was there. 
  2.5456 +
  2.5457 +"A multitude of people, and yet a solitude!" said Darnay, when they 
  2.5458 +had listened for a while. 
  2.5459 +
  2.5460 +
  2.5461 +
  2.5462 +107 
  2.5463 +
  2.5464 +
  2.5465 +
  2.5466 +"Is it not impressive, Mr. Darnay?" asked Lucie. "Sometimes, I have 
  2.5467 +sat here of an evening, until I have fancied - but even the shade of a fool- 
  2.5468 +ish fancy makes me shudder to-night, when all is so black and 
  2.5469 +solemn - " 
  2.5470 +
  2.5471 +"Let us shudder too. We may know what it is." 
  2.5472 +
  2.5473 +"It will seem nothing to you. Such whims are only impressive as we 
  2.5474 +originate them, I think; they are not to be communicated. I have some- 
  2.5475 +times sat alone here of an evening, listening, until I have made the 
  2.5476 +echoes out to be the echoes of all the footsteps that are coming by-and- 
  2.5477 +bye into our lives." 
  2.5478 +
  2.5479 +"There is a great crowd coming one day into our lives, if that be so," 
  2.5480 +Sydney Carton struck in, in his moody way. 
  2.5481 +
  2.5482 +The footsteps were incessant, and the hurry of them became more and 
  2.5483 +more rapid. The corner echoed and re-echoed with the tread of feet; 
  2.5484 +some, as it seemed, under the windows; some, as it seemed, in the room; 
  2.5485 +some coming, some going, some breaking off, some stopping altogether; 
  2.5486 +all in the distant streets, and not one within sight. 
  2.5487 +
  2.5488 +"Are all these footsteps destined to come to all of us, Miss Manette, or 
  2.5489 +are we to divide them among us?" 
  2.5490 +
  2.5491 +"I don't know, Mr. Darnay; I told you it was a foolish fancy, but you 
  2.5492 +asked for it. When I have yielded myself to it, I have been alone, and 
  2.5493 +then I have imagined them the footsteps of the people who are to come 
  2.5494 +into my life, and my father's." 
  2.5495 +
  2.5496 +"I take them into mine!" said Carton. "I ask no questions and make no 
  2.5497 +stipulations. There is a great crowd bearing down upon us, Miss 
  2.5498 +Manette, and I see them - by the Lightning." He added the last words, 
  2.5499 +after there had been a vivid flash which had shown him lounging in the 
  2.5500 +window. 
  2.5501 +
  2.5502 +"And I hear them!" he added again, after a peal of thunder. "Here they 
  2.5503 +come, fast, fierce, and furious!" 
  2.5504 +
  2.5505 +It was the rush and roar of rain that he typified, and it stopped him, 
  2.5506 +for no voice could be heard in it. A memorable storm of thunder and 
  2.5507 +lightning broke with that sweep of water, and there was not a moment's 
  2.5508 +interval in crash, and fire, and rain, until after the moon rose at 
  2.5509 +midnight. 
  2.5510 +
  2.5511 +The great bell of Saint Paul's was striking one in the cleared air, when 
  2.5512 +Mr. Lorry, escorted by Jerry, high-booted and bearing a lantern, set forth 
  2.5513 +on his return-passage to Clerkenwell. There were solitary patches of road 
  2.5514 +
  2.5515 +
  2.5516 +
  2.5517 +108 
  2.5518 +
  2.5519 +
  2.5520 +
  2.5521 +on the way between Soho and Clerkenwell, and Mr. Lorry, mindful of 
  2.5522 +foot-pads, always retained Jerry for this service: though it was usually 
  2.5523 +performed a good two hours earlier. 
  2.5524 +
  2.5525 +"What a night it has been! Almost a night, Jerry," said Mr. Lorry, "to 
  2.5526 +bring the dead out of their graves." 
  2.5527 +
  2.5528 +"I never see the night myself, master - nor yet I don't expect to - what 
  2.5529 +would do that," answered Jerry. 
  2.5530 +
  2.5531 +"Good night, Mr. Carton," said the man of business. "Good night, Mr. 
  2.5532 +Darnay. Shall we ever see such a night again, together!" 
  2.5533 +
  2.5534 +Perhaps. Perhaps, see the great crowd of people with its rush and roar, 
  2.5535 +bearing down upon them, too. 
  2.5536 +
  2.5537 +
  2.5538 +
  2.5539 +109 
  2.5540 +
  2.5541 +
  2.5542 +
  2.5543 +Chapter 
  2.5544 +
  2.5545 +
  2.5546 +
  2.5547 +7 
  2.5548 +
  2.5549 +
  2.5550 +
  2.5551 +Monseigneur in Town 
  2.5552 +
  2.5553 +Monseigneur, one of the great lords in power at the Court, held his 
  2.5554 +fortnightly reception in his grand hotel in Paris. Monseigneur was in his 
  2.5555 +inner room, his sanctuary of sanctuaries, the Holiest of Holiests to the 
  2.5556 +crowd of worshippers in the suite of rooms without. Monseigneur was 
  2.5557 +about to take his chocolate. Monseigneur could swallow a great many 
  2.5558 +things with ease, and was by some few sullen minds supposed to be 
  2.5559 +rather rapidly swallowing France; but, his morning's chocolate could not 
  2.5560 +so much as get into the throat of Monseigneur, without the aid of four 
  2.5561 +strong men besides the Cook. 
  2.5562 +
  2.5563 +Yes. It took four men, all four ablaze with gorgeous decoration, and 
  2.5564 +the Chief of them unable to exist with fewer than two gold watches in his 
  2.5565 +pocket, emulative of the noble and chaste fashion set by Monseigneur, to 
  2.5566 +conduct the happy chocolate to Monseigneur's lips. One lacquey carried 
  2.5567 +the chocolate-pot into the sacred presence; a second, milled and frothed 
  2.5568 +the chocolate with the little instrument he bore for that function; a third, 
  2.5569 +presented the favoured napkin; a fourth (he of the two gold watches), 
  2.5570 +poured the chocolate out. It was impossible for Monseigneur to dispense 
  2.5571 +with one of these attendants on the chocolate and hold his high place un- 
  2.5572 +der the admiring Heavens. Deep would have been the blot upon his es- 
  2.5573 +cutcheon if his chocolate had been ignobly waited on by only three men; 
  2.5574 +he must have died of two. 
  2.5575 +
  2.5576 +Monseigneur had been out at a little supper last night, where the Com- 
  2.5577 +edy and the Grand Opera were charmingly represented. Monseigneur 
  2.5578 +was out at a little supper most nights, with fascinating company. So po- 
  2.5579 +lite and so impressible was Monseigneur, that the Comedy and the 
  2.5580 +Grand Opera had far more influence with him in the tiresome articles of 
  2.5581 +state affairs and state secrets, than the needs of all France. A happy cir- 
  2.5582 +cumstance for France, as the like always is for all countries similarly fa- 
  2.5583 +voured!- always was for England (by way of example), in the regretted 
  2.5584 +days of the merry Stuart who sold it. 
  2.5585 +
  2.5586 +
  2.5587 +
  2.5588 +110 
  2.5589 +
  2.5590 +
  2.5591 +
  2.5592 +Monseigneur had one truly noble idea of general public business, 
  2.5593 +which was, to let everything go on in its own way; of particular public 
  2.5594 +business, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea that it must all go 
  2.5595 +his way- tend to his own power and pocket. Of his pleasures, general 
  2.5596 +and particular, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea, that the 
  2.5597 +world was made for them. The text of his order (altered from the original 
  2.5598 +by only a pronoun, which is not much) ran: "The earth and the fulness 
  2.5599 +thereof are mine, saith Monseigneur." 
  2.5600 +
  2.5601 +Yet, Monseigneur had slowly found that vulgar embarrassments crept 
  2.5602 +into his affairs, both private and public; and he had, as to both classes of 
  2.5603 +affairs, allied himself perforce with a Farmer-General. As to finances 
  2.5604 +public, because Monseigneur could not make anything at all of them, 
  2.5605 +and must consequently let them out to somebody who could; as to fin- 
  2.5606 +ances private, because Farmer-Generals were rich, and Monseigneur, 
  2.5607 +after generations of great luxury and expense, was growing poor. Hence 
  2.5608 +Monseigneur had taken his sister from a convent, while there was yet 
  2.5609 +time to ward off the impending veil, the cheapest garment she could 
  2.5610 +wear, and had bestowed her as a prize upon a very rich Farmer-General, 
  2.5611 +poor in family. Which Farmer-General, carrying an appropriate cane 
  2.5612 +with a golden apple on the top of it, was now among the company in the 
  2.5613 +outer rooms, much prostrated before by mankind- always excepting su- 
  2.5614 +perior mankind of the blood of Monseigneur, who, his own wife in- 
  2.5615 +cluded, looked down upon him with the loftiest contempt. 
  2.5616 +
  2.5617 +A sumptuous man was the Farmer-General. Thirty horses stood in his 
  2.5618 +stables, twenty-four male domestics sat in his halls, six body-women 
  2.5619 +waited on his wife. As one who pretended to do nothing but plunder 
  2.5620 +and forage where he could, the Farmer-General- howsoever his matrimo- 
  2.5621 +nial relations conduced to social morality- was at least the greatest reality 
  2.5622 +among the personages who attended at the hotel of Monseigneur that 
  2.5623 +day. 
  2.5624 +
  2.5625 +For, the rooms, though a beautiful scene to look at, and adorned with 
  2.5626 +every device of decoration that the taste and skin of the time could 
  2.5627 +achieve, were, in truth, not a sound business; considered with any refer- 
  2.5628 +ence to the scarecrows in the rags and nightcaps elsewhere (and not so 
  2.5629 +far off, either, but that the watching towers of Notre Dame, almost 
  2.5630 +equidistant from the two extremes, could see them both), they would 
  2.5631 +have been an exceedingly uncomfortable business- if that could have 
  2.5632 +been anybody's business, at the house of Monseigneur. Military officers 
  2.5633 +destitute of military knowledge; naval officers with no idea of a ship; 
  2.5634 +civil officers without a notion of affairs; brazen ecclesiastics, of the worst 
  2.5635 +
  2.5636 +
  2.5637 +
  2.5638 +111 
  2.5639 +
  2.5640 +
  2.5641 +
  2.5642 +world worldly, with sensual eyes, loose tongues, and looser lives; all 
  2.5643 +totally unfit for their several callings all lying horribly in pretending to 
  2.5644 +belong to them, but all nearly or remotely of the order of Monseigneur, 
  2.5645 +and therefore foisted on all public employments from which anything 
  2.5646 +was to be got; these were to be told off by the score and the score. People 
  2.5647 +not immediately connected with Monseigneur or the State, yet equally 
  2.5648 +unconnected with anything that was real, or with lives passed in travel- 
  2.5649 +ling by any straight road to any true earthly end, were no less abundant. 
  2.5650 +Doctors who made great fortunes out of dainty remedies for imaginary 
  2.5651 +disorders that never existed, smiled upon their courtly patients in the 
  2.5652 +ante-chambers of Monseigneur. Projectors who had discovered every 
  2.5653 +kind of remedy for the little evils with which the State was touched, ex- 
  2.5654 +cept the remedy of setting to work in earnest to root out a single sin, 
  2.5655 +poured their distracting babble into any ears they could lay hold of, at 
  2.5656 +the reception of Monseigneur. Unbelieving Philosophers who were re- 
  2.5657 +modelling the world with words, and making card-towers of Babel to 
  2.5658 +scale the skies with, talked with Unbelieving Chemists who had an eye 
  2.5659 +on the transmutation of metals, at this wonderful gathering accumulated 
  2.5660 +by Monseigneur. Exquisite gentlemen of the finest breeding, which was 
  2.5661 +at that remarkable time- and has been since- to be known by its fruits of 
  2.5662 +indifference to every natural subject of human interest, were in the most 
  2.5663 +exemplary state of exhaustion, at the hotel of Monseigneur. Such homes 
  2.5664 +had these various notabilities left behind them in the fine world of Paris, 
  2.5665 +that the spies among the assembled devotees of Monseigneur- forming a 
  2.5666 +goodly half of the polite company- would have found it hard to discover 
  2.5667 +among the angels of that sphere one solitary wife, who, in her manners 
  2.5668 +and appearance, owned to being a Mother. Indeed, except for the mere 
  2.5669 +act of bringing a troublesome creature into this world- which does not go 
  2.5670 +far towards the realisation of the name of mother- there was no such 
  2.5671 +thing known to the fashion. Peasant women kept the unfashionable ba- 
  2.5672 +bies close, and brought them up, and charming grandmammas of sixty 
  2.5673 +dressed and supped as at twenty. 
  2.5674 +
  2.5675 +The leprosy of unreality disfigured every human creature in attend- 
  2.5676 +ance upon Monseigneur. In the outermost room were half a dozen excep- 
  2.5677 +tional people who had had, for a few years, some vague misgiving in 
  2.5678 +them that things in general were going rather wrong. As a promising 
  2.5679 +way of setting them right, half of the half-dozen had become members of 
  2.5680 +a fantastic sect of Convulsionists, and were even then considering within 
  2.5681 +themselves whether they should foam, rage, roar, and turn cataleptic on 
  2.5682 +the spot- thereby setting up a highly intelligible finger-post to the Future, 
  2.5683 +
  2.5684 +
  2.5685 +
  2.5686 +112 
  2.5687 +
  2.5688 +
  2.5689 +
  2.5690 +for Monseigneur's guidance. Besides these Dervishes, were other three 
  2.5691 +who had rushed into another sect, which mended matters with a jargon 
  2.5692 +about "the Centre of Truth:" holding that Man had got out of the Centre 
  2.5693 +of Truth- which did not need much demonstration- but had not got out 
  2.5694 +of the Circumference, and that he was to be kept from flying out of the 
  2.5695 +Circumference, and was even to be shoved back into the Centre, by fast- 
  2.5696 +ing and seeing of spirits. Among these, accordingly, much discoursing 
  2.5697 +with spirits went on- and it did a world of good which never became 
  2.5698 +manifest. 
  2.5699 +
  2.5700 +But, the comfort was, that all the company at the grand hotel of Mon- 
  2.5701 +seigneur were perfectly dressed. If the Day of Judgment had only been 
  2.5702 +ascertained to be a dress day, everybody there would have been etern- 
  2.5703 +ally correct. Such frizzling and powdering and sticking up of hair, such 
  2.5704 +delicate complexions artificially preserved and mended, such gallant 
  2.5705 +swords to look at, and such delicate honour to the sense of smell, would 
  2.5706 +surely keep anything going, for ever and ever. The exquisite gentlemen 
  2.5707 +of the finest breeding wore little pendent trinkets that chinked as they 
  2.5708 +languidly moved; these golden fetters rang like precious little bells; and 
  2.5709 +what with that ringing, and with the rustle of silk and brocade and fine 
  2.5710 +linen, there was a flutter in the air that fanned Saint Antoine and his de- 
  2.5711 +vouring hunger far away. 
  2.5712 +
  2.5713 +Dress was the one unfailing talisman and charm used for keeping all 
  2.5714 +things in their places. Everybody was dressed for a Fancy Ball that was 
  2.5715 +never to leave off. From the Palace of the Tuileries, through Monseigneur 
  2.5716 +and the whole Court, through the Chambers, the Tribunals of Justice, 
  2.5717 +and all society (except the scarecrows), the Fancy Ball descended to the 
  2.5718 +Common Executioner: who, in pursuance of the charm, was required to 
  2.5719 +officiate "frizzled, powdered, in a gold-laced coat, pumps, and white silk 
  2.5720 +stockings." At the gallows and the wheel-the axe was a rarity- Monsieur 
  2.5721 +Paris, as it was the episcopal mode among his brother Professors of the 
  2.5722 +provinces, Monsieur Orleans, and the rest, to call him, presided in this 
  2.5723 +dainty dress. And who among the company at Monseigneur's reception 
  2.5724 +in that seventeen hundred and eightieth year of our Lord, could possibly 
  2.5725 +doubt, that a system rooted in a frizzled hangman, powdered, gold- 
  2.5726 +laced, pumped, and white-silk stockinged, would see the very stars out! 
  2.5727 +
  2.5728 +Monseigneur having eased his four men of their burdens and taken his 
  2.5729 +chocolate, caused the doors of the Holiest of Holiests to be thrown open, 
  2.5730 +and issued forth. Then, what submission, what cringing and fawning, 
  2.5731 +what servility, what abject humiliation! As to bowing down in body and 
  2.5732 +spirit, nothing in that way was left for Heaven- which may have been 
  2.5733 +
  2.5734 +
  2.5735 +
  2.5736 +113 
  2.5737 +
  2.5738 +
  2.5739 +
  2.5740 +one among other reasons why the worshippers of Monseigneur never 
  2.5741 +troubled it. 
  2.5742 +
  2.5743 +Bestowing a word of promise here and a smile there, a whisper on one 
  2.5744 +happy slave and a wave of the hand on another, Monseigneur affably 
  2.5745 +passed through his rooms to the remote region of the Circumference of 
  2.5746 +Truth. There, Monseigneur turned, and came back again, and so in due 
  2.5747 +course of time got himself shut up in his sanctuary by the chocolate 
  2.5748 +sprites, and was seen no more. 
  2.5749 +
  2.5750 +The show being over, the flutter in the air became quite a little storm, 
  2.5751 +and the precious little bells went ringing down-stairs. There was soon 
  2.5752 +but one person left of all the crowd, and he, with his hat under his arm 
  2.5753 +and his snuff-box in his hand, slowly passed among the mirrors on his 
  2.5754 +way out. 
  2.5755 +
  2.5756 +"I devote you," said this person, stopping at the last door on his way, 
  2.5757 +and turning in the direction of the sanctuary, "to the Devil!" 
  2.5758 +
  2.5759 +With that, he shook the snuff from his fingers as if he had shaken the 
  2.5760 +dust from his feet, and quietly walked down-stairs. 
  2.5761 +
  2.5762 +He was a man of about sixty, handsomely dressed, haughty in man- 
  2.5763 +ner, and with a face like a fine mask. A face of a transparent paleness; 
  2.5764 +every feature in it clearly defined; one set expression on it. The nose, 
  2.5765 +beautifully formed otherwise, was very slightly pinched at the top of 
  2.5766 +each nostril. In those two compressions, or dints, the only little change 
  2.5767 +that the face ever showed, resided. They persisted in changing colour 
  2.5768 +sometimes, and they would be occasionally dilated and contracted by 
  2.5769 +something like a faint pulsation; then, they gave a look of treachery, and 
  2.5770 +cruelty, to the whole countenance. Examined with attention, its capacity 
  2.5771 +of helping such a look was to be found in the line of the mouth, and the 
  2.5772 +lines of the orbits of the eyes, being much too horizontal and thin; still, in 
  2.5773 +the effect of the face made, it was a handsome face, and a remarkable 
  2.5774 +one. 
  2.5775 +
  2.5776 +Its owner went down-stairs into the courtyard, got into his carriage, 
  2.5777 +and drove away. Not many people had talked with him at the reception; 
  2.5778 +he had stood in a little space apart, and Monseigneur might have been 
  2.5779 +warmer in his manner. It appeared, under the circumstances, rather 
  2.5780 +agreeable to him to see the common people dispersed before his horses, 
  2.5781 +and often barely escaping from being run down. His man drove as if he 
  2.5782 +were charging an enemy, and the furious recklessness of the man 
  2.5783 +brought no check into the face, or to the lips, of the master. The com- 
  2.5784 +plaint had sometimes made itself audible, even in that deaf city and 
  2.5785 +
  2.5786 +
  2.5787 +
  2.5788 +114 
  2.5789 +
  2.5790 +
  2.5791 +
  2.5792 +dumb age, that, in the narrow streets without footways, the fierce patri- 
  2.5793 +cian custom of hard driving endangered and maimed the mere vulgar in 
  2.5794 +a barbarous manner. But, few cared enough for that to think of it a 
  2.5795 +second time, and, in this matter, as in all others, the common wretches 
  2.5796 +were left to get out of their difficulties as they could. 
  2.5797 +
  2.5798 +With a wild rattle and clatter, and an inhuman abandonment of con- 
  2.5799 +sideration not easy to be understood in these days, the carriage dashed 
  2.5800 +through streets and swept round corners, with women screaming before 
  2.5801 +it, and men clutching each other and clutching children out of its way. At 
  2.5802 +last, swooping at a street corner by a fountain, one of its wheels came to 
  2.5803 +a sickening little jolt, and there was a loud cry from a number of voices, 
  2.5804 +and the horses reared and plunged. 
  2.5805 +
  2.5806 +But for the latter inconvenience, the carriage probably would not have 
  2.5807 +stopped; carriages were often known to drive on, and leave their 
  2.5808 +wounded behind, and why not? But the frightened valet had got down 
  2.5809 +in a hurry, and there were twenty hands at the horses' bridles. 
  2.5810 +
  2.5811 +"What has gone wrong?" said Monsieur, calmly looking out. 
  2.5812 +
  2.5813 +A tall man in a nightcap had caught up a bundle from among the feet 
  2.5814 +of the horses, and had laid it on the basement of the fountain, and was 
  2.5815 +down in the mud and wet, howling over it like a wild animal. 
  2.5816 +
  2.5817 +"Pardon, Monsieur the Marquis!" said a ragged and submissive man, 
  2.5818 +"it is a child." 
  2.5819 +
  2.5820 +"Why does he make that abominable noise? Is it his child?" 
  2.5821 +
  2.5822 +"Excuse me, Monsieur the Marquis- it is a pity- yes." 
  2.5823 +
  2.5824 +The fountain was a little removed; for the street opened, where it was, 
  2.5825 +into a space some ten or twelve yards square. As the tall man suddenly 
  2.5826 +got up from the ground, and came running at the carriage, Monsieur the 
  2.5827 +Marquis clapped his hand for an instant on his sword-hilt. 
  2.5828 +
  2.5829 +"Killed!" shrieked the man, in wild desperation, extending both arms 
  2.5830 +at their length above his head, and staring at him. "Dead!" 
  2.5831 +
  2.5832 +The people closed round, and looked at Monsieur the Marquis. There 
  2.5833 +was nothing revealed by the many eyes that looked at him but watchful- 
  2.5834 +ness and eagerness; there was no visible menacing or anger. Neither did 
  2.5835 +the people say anything; after the first cry, they had been silent, and they 
  2.5836 +remained so. The voice of the submissive man who had spoken, was flat 
  2.5837 +and tame in its extreme submission. Monsieur the Marquis ran his eyes 
  2.5838 +over them all, as if they had been mere rats come out of their holes. 
  2.5839 +
  2.5840 +He took out his purse. 
  2.5841 +
  2.5842 +
  2.5843 +
  2.5844 +115 
  2.5845 +
  2.5846 +
  2.5847 +
  2.5848 +"It is extraordinary to me/' said he, "that you people cannot take care 
  2.5849 +of yourselves and your children. One or the other of you is for ever in the 
  2.5850 +way. How do I know what injury you have done my horses. See! Give 
  2.5851 +him that." 
  2.5852 +
  2.5853 +He threw out a gold coin for the valet to pick up, and all the heads 
  2.5854 +craned forward that all the eyes might look down at it as it fell. The tall 
  2.5855 +man called out again with a most unearthly cry, "Dead!" 
  2.5856 +
  2.5857 +He was arrested by the quick arrival of another man, for whom the 
  2.5858 +rest made way. On seeing him, the miserable creature fell upon his 
  2.5859 +shoulder, sobbing and crying, and pointing to the fountain, where some 
  2.5860 +women were stooping over the motionless bundle, and moving gently 
  2.5861 +about it. They were as silent, however, as the men. 
  2.5862 +
  2.5863 +"I know all, I know all," said the last comer. "Be a brave man, my Gas- 
  2.5864 +pard! It is better for the poor little plaything to die so, than to live. It has 
  2.5865 +died in a moment without pain. Could it have lived an hour as happily?" 
  2.5866 +
  2.5867 +"You are a philosopher, you there," said the Marquis, smiling. "How 
  2.5868 +do they call you?" 
  2.5869 +
  2.5870 +"They call me Defarge." 
  2.5871 +
  2.5872 +"Of what trade?" 
  2.5873 +
  2.5874 +"Monsieur the Marquis, vendor of wine." 
  2.5875 +
  2.5876 +"Pick up that, philosopher and vendor of wine," said the Marquis, 
  2.5877 +throwing him another gold coin, "and spend it as you will. The horses 
  2.5878 +there; are they right?" 
  2.5879 +
  2.5880 +Without deigning to look at the assemblage a second time, Monsieur 
  2.5881 +the Marquis leaned back in his seat, and was just being driven away with 
  2.5882 +the air of a gentleman who had accidentally broke some common thing, 
  2.5883 +and had paid for it, and could afford to pay for it; when his ease was 
  2.5884 +suddenly disturbed by a coin flying into his carriage, and ringing on its 
  2.5885 +floor. 
  2.5886 +
  2.5887 +"Hold!" said Monsieur the Marquis. "Hold the horses! Who threw 
  2.5888 +that?" 
  2.5889 +
  2.5890 +He looked to the spot where Defarge the vendor of wine had stood, a 
  2.5891 +moment before; but the wretched father was grovelling on his face on the 
  2.5892 +pavement in that spot, and the figure that stood beside him was the fig- 
  2.5893 +ure of a dark stout woman, knitting. 
  2.5894 +
  2.5895 +"You dogs!" said the Marquis, but smoothly, and with an unchanged 
  2.5896 +front, except as to the spots on his nose: "I would ride over any of you 
  2.5897 +
  2.5898 +
  2.5899 +
  2.5900 +116 
  2.5901 +
  2.5902 +
  2.5903 +
  2.5904 +very willingly, and exterminate you from the earth. If I knew which ras- 
  2.5905 +cal threw at the carriage, and if that brigand were sufficiently near it, he 
  2.5906 +should be crushed under the wheels." 
  2.5907 +
  2.5908 +So cowed was their condition, and so long and hard their experience 
  2.5909 +of what such a man could do to them, within the law and beyond it, that 
  2.5910 +not a voice, or a hand, or even an eye was raised. Among the men, not 
  2.5911 +one. But the woman who stood knitting looked up steadily, and looked 
  2.5912 +the Marquis in the face. It was not for his dignity to notice it; his con- 
  2.5913 +temptuous eyes passed over her, and over all the other rats; and he 
  2.5914 +leaned back in his seat again, and gave the word "Go on!" 
  2.5915 +
  2.5916 +He was driven on, and other carriages came whirling by in quick suc- 
  2.5917 +cession; the Minister, the State-Projector, the Farmer-General, the Doctor, 
  2.5918 +the Lawyer, the Ecclesiastic, the Grand Opera, the Comedy, the whole 
  2.5919 +Fancy Ball in a bright continuous flow, came whirling by. The rats had 
  2.5920 +crept out of their holes to look on, and they remained looking on for 
  2.5921 +hours; soldiers and police often passing between them and the spectacle, 
  2.5922 +and making a barrier behind which they slunk, and through which they 
  2.5923 +peeped. The father had long ago taken up his bundle and hidden himself 
  2.5924 +away with it, when the women who had tended the bundle while it lay 
  2.5925 +on the base of the fountain, sat there watching the running of the water 
  2.5926 +and the rolling of the Fancy Ball- when the one woman who had stood 
  2.5927 +conspicuous, knitting, still knitted on with the steadfastness of Fate. The 
  2.5928 +water of the fountain ran, the swift river ran, the day ran into evening, so 
  2.5929 +much life in the city ran into death according to rule, time and tide 
  2.5930 +waited for no man, the rats were sleeping close together in their dark 
  2.5931 +holes again, the Fancy Ball was lighted up at supper, all things ran their 
  2.5932 +course. 
  2.5933 +
  2.5934 +
  2.5935 +
  2.5936 +117 
  2.5937 +
  2.5938 +
  2.5939 +
  2.5940 +Chapter 
  2.5941 +
  2.5942 +
  2.5943 +
  2.5944 +8 
  2.5945 +
  2.5946 +
  2.5947 +
  2.5948 +Monseigneur in the Country 
  2.5949 +
  2.5950 +A beautiful landscape, with the corn bright in it, but not abundant. 
  2.5951 +Patches of poor rye where corn should have been, patches of poor peas 
  2.5952 +and beans, patches of most coarse vegetable substitutes for wheat. On in- 
  2.5953 +animate nature, as on the men and women who cultivated it, a prevalent 
  2.5954 +tendency towards an appearance of vegetating unwillingly- a dejected 
  2.5955 +disposition to give up, and wither away. 
  2.5956 +
  2.5957 +Monsieur the Marquis in his travelling carriage (which might have 
  2.5958 +been lighter), conducted by four post-horses and two postilions, fagged 
  2.5959 +up a steep hill. A blush on the countenance of Monsieur the Marquis was 
  2.5960 +no impeachment of his high breeding; it was not from within; it was oc- 
  2.5961 +casioned by an external circumstance beyond his control- the setting sun. 
  2.5962 +
  2.5963 +The sunset struck so brilliantly into the travelling carriage when it 
  2.5964 +gained the hill-top, that its occupant was steeped in crimson. "It will die 
  2.5965 +out," said Monsieur the Marquis, glancing at his hands, "directly." 
  2.5966 +
  2.5967 +In effect, the sun was so low that it dipped at the moment. When the 
  2.5968 +heavy drag had been adjusted to the wheel, and the carriage slid down 
  2.5969 +hill, with a cinderous smell, in a cloud of dust, the red glow departed 
  2.5970 +quickly; the sun and the Marquis going down together, there was no 
  2.5971 +glow left when the drag was taken off. 
  2.5972 +
  2.5973 +But, there remained a broken country, bold and open, a little village at 
  2.5974 +the bottom of the hill, a broad sweep and rise beyond it, a churchtower, a 
  2.5975 +windmill, a forest for the chase, and a crag with a fortress on it used as a 
  2.5976 +prison. Round upon all these darkening objects as the night drew on, the 
  2.5977 +Marquis looked, with the air of one who was coming near home. 
  2.5978 +
  2.5979 +The village had its one poor street, with its poor brewery, poor tan- 
  2.5980 +nery, poor tavern, poor stable-yard for relays of post-horses, poor foun- 
  2.5981 +tain, all usual poor appointments. It had its poor people too. All poor a 
  2.5982 +its people were poor, and many of them were sitting at their doors, 
  2.5983 +shredding spare onions and the like for supper, while many were at the 
  2.5984 +
  2.5985 +
  2.5986 +
  2.5987 +118 
  2.5988 +
  2.5989 +
  2.5990 +
  2.5991 +fountain, washing leaves, and grasses, and any such small yieldings of 
  2.5992 +the earth that could be eaten. Expressive signs of what made them poor, 
  2.5993 +were not wanting; the tax for the state, the tax for the church, the tax for 
  2.5994 +the lord, tax local and tax general, were to be paid here and to be paid 
  2.5995 +there, according to solemn inscription in the little village, until the won- 
  2.5996 +der was, that there was any village left uns wallowed. 
  2.5997 +
  2.5998 +Few children were to be seen, and no dogs. As to the men and women, 
  2.5999 +their choice on earth was stated in the prospect- Life on the lowest terms 
  2.6000 +that could sustain it, down in the little village under the ill; or captivity 
  2.6001 +and Death in the dominant prison on the crag. 
  2.6002 +
  2.6003 +Heralded by a courier in advance, and by the cracking of his pos- 
  2.6004 +tilions' whips, which twined snake-like about their heads in the evening 
  2.6005 +air, as if he came attended by the Furies, Monsieur the Marquis drew up 
  2.6006 +in his travelling carriage at the posting-house gate. It was hard by the 
  2.6007 +fountain, and the peasants suspended their operations to look at him. He 
  2.6008 +looked at them, and saw in them, without knowing it, the slow sure fil- 
  2.6009 +ing down of misery-worn face and figure, that was to make the meagre- 
  2.6010 +ness of Frenchmen an English superstition which should survive the 
  2.6011 +truth through the best part of a hundred years. 
  2.6012 +
  2.6013 +Monsieur the Marquis cast his eyes over the submissive faces that 
  2.6014 +drooped before him, as the like of himself had drooped before Monsei- 
  2.6015 +gneur of the Court- only the difference was, that these faces drooped 
  2.6016 +merely to suffer and not to propitiate- when a grizzled mender of the 
  2.6017 +roads joined the group. 
  2.6018 +
  2.6019 +"Bring me hither that fellow!" said the Marquis to the courier. 
  2.6020 +
  2.6021 +The fellow was brought, cap in hand, and the other fellows closed 
  2.6022 +round to look and listen, in the manner of the people at the Paris 
  2.6023 +fountain. 
  2.6024 +
  2.6025 +"I passed you on the road?" 
  2.6026 +
  2.6027 +"Monseigneur, it is true. I had the honour of being passed on the 
  2.6028 +road." 
  2.6029 +
  2.6030 +"Coming up the hill, and at the top of the hill, both? 
  2.6031 +
  2.6032 +"Monseigneur, it is true." 
  2.6033 +
  2.6034 +"What did you look at, so fixedly?" 
  2.6035 +
  2.6036 +"Monseigneur, I looked at the man." 
  2.6037 +
  2.6038 +He stooped a little, and with his tattered blue cap pointed under the 
  2.6039 +carriage. All his fellows stooped to look under the carriage. 
  2.6040 +
  2.6041 +
  2.6042 +
  2.6043 +119 
  2.6044 +
  2.6045 +
  2.6046 +
  2.6047 +"What man, pig? And why look there?" 
  2.6048 +
  2.6049 +"Pardon, Monseigneur; he swung by the chain of the shoe- the drag." 
  2.6050 +
  2.6051 +"Who?" demanded the traveller. 
  2.6052 +
  2.6053 +"Monseigneur, the man." 
  2.6054 +
  2.6055 +"May the Devil carry away these idiots! How do you call the man? 
  2.6056 +You know all the men of this part of the country. Who was he?" 
  2.6057 +
  2.6058 +"Your clemency, Monseigneur! He was not of this part of the country. 
  2.6059 +Of all the days of my life, I never saw him." 
  2.6060 +
  2.6061 +"Swinging by the chain? To be suffocated?" 
  2.6062 +
  2.6063 +"With your gracious permission, that was the wonder of it, Monsei- 
  2.6064 +gneur. His head hanging over- like this!" 
  2.6065 +
  2.6066 +He turned himself sideways to the carriage, and leaned back, with his 
  2.6067 +face thrown up to the sky, and his head hanging down; then recovered 
  2.6068 +himself, fumbled with his cap, and made a bow. 
  2.6069 +
  2.6070 +"What was he like?" 
  2.6071 +
  2.6072 +"Monseigneur, he was whiter than the miller. All covered with dust, 
  2.6073 +white as a spectre, tall as a spectre!" 
  2.6074 +
  2.6075 +The picture produced an immense sensation in the little crowd; but all 
  2.6076 +eyes, without comparing notes with other eyes, looked at Monsieur the 
  2.6077 +Marquis. Perhaps, to observe whether he had any spectre on his 
  2.6078 +conscience. 
  2.6079 +
  2.6080 +"Truly, you did well," said the Marquis, felicitously sensible that such 
  2.6081 +vermin were not to ruffle him, "to see a thief accompanying my carriage, 
  2.6082 +and not open that great mouth of yours. Bah! Put him aside, Monsieur 
  2.6083 +Gabelle!" 
  2.6084 +
  2.6085 +Monsieur Gabelle was the Postmaster, and some other taxing function- 
  2.6086 +ary united; he had come out with great obsequiousness to assist at this 
  2.6087 +examination, and had held the examined by the drapery of his arm in an 
  2.6088 +official manner. 
  2.6089 +
  2.6090 +"Bah! Go aside!" said Monsieur Gabelle. 
  2.6091 +
  2.6092 +"Lay hands on this stranger if he seeks to lodge in your village to- 
  2.6093 +night, and be sure that his business is honest, Gabelle." 
  2.6094 +
  2.6095 +"Monseigneur, I am flattered to devote myself to your orders." 
  2.6096 +
  2.6097 +"Did he run away, fellow?- where is that Accursed?" 
  2.6098 +
  2.6099 +The accursed was already under the carriage with some half-dozen 
  2.6100 +particular friends, pointing out the chain with his blue cap. Some half- 
  2.6101 +
  2.6102 +
  2.6103 +
  2.6104 +120 
  2.6105 +
  2.6106 +
  2.6107 +
  2.6108 +dozen other particular friends promptly hauled him out, and presented 
  2.6109 +him breathless to Monsieur the Marquis. 
  2.6110 +
  2.6111 +"Did the man run away, Dolt, when we stopped for the drag?" 
  2.6112 +
  2.6113 +"Monseigneur, he precipitated himself over the hill-side, head first, as 
  2.6114 +a person plunges into the river." 
  2.6115 +
  2.6116 +"See to it, Gabelle. Go on!" 
  2.6117 +
  2.6118 +The half-dozen who were peering at the chain were still among the 
  2.6119 +wheels, like sheep; the wheels turned so suddenly that they were lucky 
  2.6120 +to save their skins and bones; they had very little else to save, or they 
  2.6121 +might not have been so fortunate. 
  2.6122 +
  2.6123 +The burst with which the carriage started out of the village and up the 
  2.6124 +rise beyond, was soon checked by the steepness of the hill. Gradually, it 
  2.6125 +subsided to a foot pace, swinging and lumbering upward among the 
  2.6126 +many sweet scents of a summer night. The postilions, with a thousand 
  2.6127 +gossamer gnats circling about them in lieu of the Furies, quietly mended 
  2.6128 +the points to the lashes of their whips; the valet walked by the horses; the 
  2.6129 +courier was audible, trotting on ahead into the dim distance. 
  2.6130 +
  2.6131 +At the steepest point of the hill there was a little burial-ground, with a 
  2.6132 +Cross and a new large figure of Our Saviour on it; it was a poor figure in 
  2.6133 +wood, done by some inexperienced rustic carver, but he had studied the 
  2.6134 +figure from the life- his own life, maybe- for it was dreadfully spare and 
  2.6135 +thin. 
  2.6136 +
  2.6137 +To this distressful emblem of a great distress that had long been grow- 
  2.6138 +ing worse, and was not at its worst, a woman was kneeling. She turned 
  2.6139 +her head as the carriage came up to her, rose quickly, and presented her- 
  2.6140 +self at the carriage-door. 
  2.6141 +
  2.6142 +"It is you, Monseigneur! Monseigneur, a petition." 
  2.6143 +
  2.6144 +With an exclamation of impatience, but with his unchangeable face, 
  2.6145 +Monseigneur looked out. 
  2.6146 +
  2.6147 +"How, then! What is it? Always petitions!" 
  2.6148 +
  2.6149 +"Monseigneur. For the love of the great God! My husband, the 
  2.6150 +forester." 
  2.6151 +
  2.6152 +"What of your husband, the forester? Always the same with you 
  2.6153 +people. He cannot pay something?" 
  2.6154 +
  2.6155 +"He has paid all, Monseigneur. He is dead." 
  2.6156 +
  2.6157 +"Well! He is quiet. Can I restore him to you?" 
  2.6158 +
  2.6159 +
  2.6160 +
  2.6161 +121 
  2.6162 +
  2.6163 +
  2.6164 +
  2.6165 +"Alas, no, Monseigneur! But he lies yonder, under a little heap of poor 
  2.6166 +grass." 
  2.6167 +
  2.6168 +"Well?" 
  2.6169 +
  2.6170 +"Monseigneur, there are so many little heaps of poor grass?" 
  2.6171 +
  2.6172 +"Again, well?" 
  2.6173 +
  2.6174 +She looked an old woman, but was young. Her manner was one of 
  2.6175 +passionate grief; by turns she clasped her veinous and knotted hands to- 
  2.6176 +gether with wild energy, and laid one of them on the carriage-door- ten- 
  2.6177 +derly, caressingly, as if it had been a human breast, and could be expec- 
  2.6178 +ted to feel the appealing touch. 
  2.6179 +
  2.6180 +"Monseigneur, hear me! Monseigneur, hear my petition! My husband 
  2.6181 +died of want; so many die of want; so many more will die of want." 
  2.6182 +
  2.6183 +"Again, well? Can I feed them?" 
  2.6184 +
  2.6185 +"Monseigneur, the good God knows; but I don't ask it. My petition is, 
  2.6186 +that a morsel of stone or wood, with my husband's name, may be placed 
  2.6187 +over him to show where he lies. Otherwise, the place will be quickly for- 
  2.6188 +gotten, it will never be found when I am dead of the same malady, I shall 
  2.6189 +be laid under some other heap of poor grass. Monseigneur, they are so 
  2.6190 +many, they increase so fast, there is so much want. Monseigneur! 
  2.6191 +Monseigneur!" 
  2.6192 +
  2.6193 +The valet had put her away from the door, the carriage had broken in- 
  2.6194 +to a brisk trot, the postilions had quickened the pace, she was left far be- 
  2.6195 +hind, and Monseigneur, again escorted by the Furies, was rapidly dimin- 
  2.6196 +ishing the league or two of distance that remained between him and his 
  2.6197 +chateau. 
  2.6198 +
  2.6199 +The sweet scents of the summer night rose all around him, and rose, as 
  2.6200 +the rain falls, impartially, on the dusty, ragged, and toil-worn group at 
  2.6201 +the fountain not far away; to whom the mender of roads, with the aid of 
  2.6202 +the blue cap without which he was nothing, still enlarged upon his man 
  2.6203 +like a spectre, as long as they could bear it. By degrees, as they could 
  2.6204 +bear no more, they dropped off one by one, and lights twinkled in little 
  2.6205 +casements; which lights, as the casements darkened, and more stars 
  2.6206 +came out, seemed to have shot up into the sky instead of having been 
  2.6207 +extinguished. 
  2.6208 +
  2.6209 +The shadow of a large high-roofed house, and of many over-hanging 
  2.6210 +trees, was upon Monsieur the Marquis by that time; and the shadow was 
  2.6211 +exchanged for the light of a flambeau, as his carriage stopped, and the 
  2.6212 +great door of his chateau was opened to him. 
  2.6213 +
  2.6214 +
  2.6215 +
  2.6216 +122 
  2.6217 +
  2.6218 +
  2.6219 +
  2.6220 +'Monsieur Charles, whom I expect; is he arrived from England?' 
  2.6221 +'Monseigneur, not yet." 
  2.6222 +
  2.6223 +
  2.6224 +
  2.6225 +123 
  2.6226 +
  2.6227 +
  2.6228 +
  2.6229 +Chapter 
  2.6230 +
  2.6231 +
  2.6232 +
  2.6233 +9 
  2.6234 +
  2.6235 +
  2.6236 +
  2.6237 +The Gorgon's Head 
  2.6238 +
  2.6239 +It was a heavy mass of building, that chateau of Monsieur the Mar- 
  2.6240 +quis, with a large stone courtyard before it, and two stone sweeps of 
  2.6241 +staircase meeting in a stone terrace before the principal door. A stony 
  2.6242 +business altogether, with heavy stone balustrades, and stone urns, and 
  2.6243 +stone flowers, and stone faces of men, and stone heads of lions, in all dir- 
  2.6244 +ections. As if the Gorgon's head had surveyed it, when it was finished, 
  2.6245 +two centuries ago. 
  2.6246 +
  2.6247 +Up the broad flight of shallow steps, Monsieur the Marquis, flambeau 
  2.6248 +preceded, went from his carriage, sufficiently disturbing the darkness to 
  2.6249 +elicit loud remonstrance from an owl in the roof of the great pile of stable 
  2.6250 +building away among the trees. All else was so quiet, that the flambeau 
  2.6251 +carried up the steps, and the other flambeau held at the great door, burnt 
  2.6252 +as if they were in a close room of state, instead of being in the open 
  2.6253 +night-air. Other sound than the owl's voice there was none, save the fall- 
  2.6254 +ing of a fountain into its stone basin; for, it was one of those dark nights 
  2.6255 +that hold their breath by the hour together, and then heave a long low 
  2.6256 +sigh, and hold their breath again. 
  2.6257 +
  2.6258 +The great door clanged behind him, and Monsieur the Marquis 
  2.6259 +crossed a hall grim with certain old boar-spears, swords, and knives of 
  2.6260 +the chase; grimmer with certain heavy riding-rods and riding-whips, of 
  2.6261 +which many a peasant, gone to his benefactor Death, had felt the weight 
  2.6262 +when his lord was angry. 
  2.6263 +
  2.6264 +Avoiding the larger rooms, which were dark and made fast for the 
  2.6265 +night, Monsieur the Marquis, with his flambeau-bearer going on before, 
  2.6266 +went up the staircase to a door in a corridor. This thrown open, admitted 
  2.6267 +him to his own private apartment of three rooms: his bed-chamber and 
  2.6268 +two others. High vaulted rooms with cool uncarpeted floors, great dogs 
  2.6269 +upon the hearths for the burning of wood in winter time, and all luxuries 
  2.6270 +befitting the state of a marquis in a luxurious age and country. The fash- 
  2.6271 +ion of the last Louis but one, of the line that was never to break- the 
  2.6272 +
  2.6273 +
  2.6274 +
  2.6275 +124 
  2.6276 +
  2.6277 +
  2.6278 +
  2.6279 +fourteenth Louis- was conspicuous in their rich furniture; but, it was di- 
  2.6280 +versified by many objects that were illustrations of old pages in the his- 
  2.6281 +tory of France. 
  2.6282 +
  2.6283 +A supper-table was laid for two, in the third of the rooms; a round 
  2.6284 +room, in one of the chateau's four extinguisher- topped towers. A small 
  2.6285 +lofty room, with its window wide open, and the wooden jalousie-blinds 
  2.6286 +closed, so that the dark night only showed in slight horizontal lines of 
  2.6287 +black, alternating with their broad lines of stone colour. 
  2.6288 +
  2.6289 +"My nephew," said the Marquis, glancing at the supper preparation; 
  2.6290 +"they said he was not arrived." 
  2.6291 +
  2.6292 +Nor was he; but, he had been expected with Monseigneur. 
  2.6293 +
  2.6294 +"Ah! It is not probable he will arrive to-night; nevertheless, leave the 
  2.6295 +table as it is. I shall be ready in a quarter of an hour." 
  2.6296 +
  2.6297 +In a quarter of an hour Monseigneur was ready, and sat down alone to 
  2.6298 +his sumptuous and choice supper. His chair was opposite to the win- 
  2.6299 +dow, and he had taken his soup, and was raising his glass of Bordeaux to 
  2.6300 +his lips, when he put it down. 
  2.6301 +
  2.6302 +"What is that?" he calmly asked, looking with attention at the hori- 
  2.6303 +zontal lines of black and stone colour. 
  2.6304 +
  2.6305 +"Monseigneur? That?" 
  2.6306 +
  2.6307 +"Outside the blinds. Open the blinds." 
  2.6308 +
  2.6309 +It was done. 
  2.6310 +
  2.6311 +"Well?" 
  2.6312 +
  2.6313 +"Monseigneur, it is nothing. The trees and the night are all that are 
  2.6314 +here." 
  2.6315 +
  2.6316 +The servant who spoke, had thrown the blinds wide, had looked out 
  2.6317 +into the vacant darkness, and stood with that blank behind him, looking 
  2.6318 +round for instructions. 
  2.6319 +
  2.6320 +"Good," said the imperturbable master. "Close them again." 
  2.6321 +
  2.6322 +That was done too, and the Marquis went on with his supper. He was 
  2.6323 +half way through it, when he again stopped with his glass in his hand, 
  2.6324 +hearing the sound of wheels. It came on briskly, and came up to the front 
  2.6325 +of the chateau. 
  2.6326 +
  2.6327 +"Ask who is arrived." 
  2.6328 +
  2.6329 +It was the nephew of Monseigneur. He had been some few leagues be- 
  2.6330 +hind Monseigneur, early in the afternoon. He had diminished the 
  2.6331 +
  2.6332 +
  2.6333 +
  2.6334 +125 
  2.6335 +
  2.6336 +
  2.6337 +
  2.6338 +distance rapidly, but not so rapidly as to come up with Monseigneur on 
  2.6339 +the road. He had heard of Monseigneur, at the posting-houses, as being 
  2.6340 +before him. 
  2.6341 +
  2.6342 +He was to be told (said Monseigneur) that supper awaited him then 
  2.6343 +and there, and that he was prayed to come to it. In a little while he came. 
  2.6344 +He had been known in England as Charles Darnay. 
  2.6345 +
  2.6346 +Monseigneur received him in a courtly manner, but they did not shake 
  2.6347 +hands. 
  2.6348 +
  2.6349 +"You left Paris yesterday, sir?" he said to Monseigneur, as he took his 
  2.6350 +seat at table. 
  2.6351 +
  2.6352 +"Yesterday. And you?" 
  2.6353 +
  2.6354 +"I come direct." 
  2.6355 +
  2.6356 +"From London?" 
  2.6357 +
  2.6358 +"Yes." 
  2.6359 +
  2.6360 +"You have been a long time coming," said the Marquis, with a smile. 
  2.6361 +
  2.6362 +"On the contrary; I come direct." 
  2.6363 +
  2.6364 +"Pardon me! I mean, not a long time on the journey; a long time in- 
  2.6365 +tending the journey." 
  2.6366 +
  2.6367 +"I have been detained by"- the nephew stopped a moment in his an- 
  2.6368 +swer- "various business." 
  2.6369 +
  2.6370 +"Without doubt," said the polished uncle. 
  2.6371 +
  2.6372 +So long as a servant was present, no other words passed between 
  2.6373 +them. When coffee had been served and they were alone together, the 
  2.6374 +nephew, looking at the uncle and meeting the eyes of the face that was 
  2.6375 +like a fine mask, opened a conversation. 
  2.6376 +
  2.6377 +"I have come back, sir, as you anticipate, pursuing the object that took 
  2.6378 +me away. It carried me into great and unexpected peril; but it is a sacred 
  2.6379 +object, and if it had carried me to death I hope it would have sustained 
  2.6380 +me. 
  2.6381 +
  2.6382 +"Not to death," said the uncle; "it is not necessary to say, to death." 
  2.6383 +
  2.6384 +"I doubt, sir," returned the nephew, "whether, if it had carried me to 
  2.6385 +the utmost brink of death, you would have cared to stop me there." 
  2.6386 +
  2.6387 +The deepened marks in the nose, and the lengthening of the fine 
  2.6388 +straight lines in the cruel face, looked ominous as to that; the uncle made 
  2.6389 +a graceful gesture of protest, which was so clearly a slight form of good 
  2.6390 +breeding that it was not reassuring. 
  2.6391 +
  2.6392 +
  2.6393 +
  2.6394 +126 
  2.6395 +
  2.6396 +
  2.6397 +
  2.6398 +"Indeed, sir/' pursued the nephew, "for anything I know, you may 
  2.6399 +have expressly worked to give a more suspicious appearance to the sus- 
  2.6400 +picious circumstances that surrounded me." 
  2.6401 +
  2.6402 +"No, no, no," said the uncle, pleasantly. 
  2.6403 +
  2.6404 +"But, however that may be," resumed the nephew, glancing at him 
  2.6405 +with deep distrust, "I know that your diplomacy would stop me by any 
  2.6406 +means, and would know no scruple as to means." 
  2.6407 +
  2.6408 +"My friend, I told you so," said the uncle, with a fine pulsation in the 
  2.6409 +two marks. "Do me the favour to recall that I told you so, long ago." 
  2.6410 +
  2.6411 +"I recall it." 
  2.6412 +
  2.6413 +"Thank you," said the Marquis- very sweetly indeed. 
  2.6414 +
  2.6415 +His tone lingered in the air, almost like the tone of a musical 
  2.6416 +instrument. 
  2.6417 +
  2.6418 +"In effect, sir," pursued the nephew, "I believe it to be at once your 
  2.6419 +bad fortune, and my good fortune, that has kept me out of a prison in 
  2.6420 +France here." 
  2.6421 +
  2.6422 +"I do not quite understand," returned the uncle, sipping his coffee. 
  2.6423 +"Dare I ask you to explain?" 
  2.6424 +
  2.6425 +"I believe that if you were not in disgrace with the Court, and had not 
  2.6426 +been overshadowed by that cloud for years past, a letter de cachet would 
  2.6427 +have sent me to some fortress indefinitely." 
  2.6428 +
  2.6429 +"It is possible," said the uncle, with great calmness. "For the honour of 
  2.6430 +the family, I could even resolve to incommode you to that extent. Pray 
  2.6431 +excuse me!" 
  2.6432 +
  2.6433 +"I perceive that, happily for me, the Reception of the day before yester- 
  2.6434 +day was, as usual, a cold one," observed the nephew. 
  2.6435 +
  2.6436 +"I would not say happily, my friend," returned the uncle, with refined 
  2.6437 +politeness; "I would not be sure of that. A good opportunity for consid- 
  2.6438 +eration, surrounded by the advantages of solitude, might influence your 
  2.6439 +destiny to far greater advantage than you influence it for yourself. But it 
  2.6440 +is useless to discuss the question. I am, as you say, at a disadvantage. 
  2.6441 +These little instruments of correction, these gentle aids to the power and 
  2.6442 +honour of families, these slight favours that might so incommode you, 
  2.6443 +are only to be obtained now by interest and importunity. They are 
  2.6444 +sought by so many, and they are granted (comparatively) to so few! It 
  2.6445 +used not to be so, but France in all such things is changed for the worse. 
  2.6446 +Our not remote ancestors held the right of life and death over the 
  2.6447 +
  2.6448 +
  2.6449 +
  2.6450 +127 
  2.6451 +
  2.6452 +
  2.6453 +
  2.6454 +surrounding vulgar. From this room, many such dogs have been taken 
  2.6455 +out to be hanged; in the next room (my bedroom), one fellow, to our 
  2.6456 +knowledge, was poniarded on the spot for professing some insolent del- 
  2.6457 +icacy respecting his daughter- his daughter? We have lost many priv- 
  2.6458 +ileges; a new philosophy has become the mode; and the assertion of our 
  2.6459 +station, in these days, might (I do not go so far as to say would, but 
  2.6460 +might) cause us real inconvenience. All very bad, very bad!" 
  2.6461 +
  2.6462 +The Marquis took a gentle little pinch of snuff, and shook his head; as 
  2.6463 +elegantly despondent as he could becomingly be of a country still con- 
  2.6464 +taining himself, that great means of regeneration. 
  2.6465 +
  2.6466 +"We have so asserted our station, both in the old time and in the mod- 
  2.6467 +ern time also," said the nephew, gloomily, "that I believe our name to be 
  2.6468 +more detested than any name in France." 
  2.6469 +
  2.6470 +"Let us hope so," said the uncle. "Detestation of the high is the invol- 
  2.6471 +untary homage of the low." 
  2.6472 +
  2.6473 +"There is not," pursued the nephew, in his former tone, "a face I can 
  2.6474 +look at, in all this country round about us, which looks at me with any 
  2.6475 +deference on it but the dark deference of fear and slavery." 
  2.6476 +
  2.6477 +"A compliment," said the Marquis, "to the grandeur of the family, 
  2.6478 +merited by the manner in which the family has sustained its grandeur. 
  2.6479 +Hah!" And he took another gentle little pinch of snuff, and lightly 
  2.6480 +crossed his legs. 
  2.6481 +
  2.6482 +But, when his nephew, leaning an elbow on the table, covered his eyes 
  2.6483 +thoughtfully and dejectedly with his hand, the fine mask looked at him 
  2.6484 +sideways with a stronger concentration of keenness, closeness, and dis- 
  2.6485 +like, than was comportable with its wearer's assumption of indifference. 
  2.6486 +
  2.6487 +"Repression is the only lasting philosophy. The dark deference of fear 
  2.6488 +and slavery, my friend," observed the Marquis, "will keep the dogs 
  2.6489 +obedient to the whip, as long as this roof," looking up to it, "shuts out 
  2.6490 +the sky." 
  2.6491 +
  2.6492 +That might not be so long as the Marquis supposed. If a picture of the 
  2.6493 +chateau as it was to be a very few years hence, and of fifty like it as they 
  2.6494 +too were to be a very few years hence, could have been shown to him 
  2.6495 +that night, he might have been at a loss to claim his own from the 
  2.6496 +ghastly, fire-charred, plunder-wrecked ruins. As for the roof he vaunted, 
  2.6497 +he might have found that shutting out the sky in a new way- to wit, for 
  2.6498 +ever, from the eyes of the bodies into which its lead was fired, out of the 
  2.6499 +barrels of a hundred thousand muskets. 
  2.6500 +
  2.6501 +
  2.6502 +
  2.6503 +128 
  2.6504 +
  2.6505 +
  2.6506 +
  2.6507 +"Meanwhile," said the Marquis, "I will preserve the honour and re- 
  2.6508 +pose of the family, if you will not. But you must be fatigued. Shall we 
  2.6509 +terminate our conference for the night?" 
  2.6510 +
  2.6511 +"A moment more." 
  2.6512 +
  2.6513 +"An hour, if you please." 
  2.6514 +
  2.6515 +"Sir," said the nephew, "we have done wrong, and are reaping the 
  2.6516 +fruits of wrong." 
  2.6517 +
  2.6518 +"We have done wrong?" repeated the Marquis, with an inquiring 
  2.6519 +smile, and delicately pointing, first to his nephew, then to himself. 
  2.6520 +
  2.6521 +"Our family; our honourable family, whose honour is of so much ac- 
  2.6522 +count to both of us, in such different ways. Even in my father's time, we 
  2.6523 +did a world of wrong, injuring every human creature who came between 
  2.6524 +us and our pleasure, whatever it was. Why need I speak of my father's 
  2.6525 +time, when it is equally yours? Can I separate my father's twin-brother, 
  2.6526 +joint inheritor, and next successor, from himself?" 
  2.6527 +
  2.6528 +"Death has done that!" said the Marquis. 
  2.6529 +
  2.6530 +"And has left me," answered the nephew, "bound to a system that is 
  2.6531 +frightful to me, responsible for it, but powerless in it; seeking to execute 
  2.6532 +the last request of my dear mother's lips, and obey the last look of my 
  2.6533 +dear mother's eyes, which implored me to have mercy and to redress; 
  2.6534 +and tortured by seeking assistance and power in vain." 
  2.6535 +
  2.6536 +"Seeking them from me, my nephew," said the Marquis, touching him 
  2.6537 +on the breast with his forefinger- they were now standing by the hearth- 
  2.6538 +"you will for ever seek them in vain, be assured." 
  2.6539 +
  2.6540 +Every fine straight line in the clear whiteness of his face, was cruelly, 
  2.6541 +craftily, and closely compressed, while he stood looking quietly at his 
  2.6542 +nephew, with his snuff-box in his hand. Once again he touched him on 
  2.6543 +the breast, as though his finger were the fine point of a small sword, with 
  2.6544 +which, in delicate finesse, he ran him through the body, and said, 
  2.6545 +
  2.6546 +"My friend, I will die, perpetuating the system under which I have 
  2.6547 +lived." 
  2.6548 +
  2.6549 +When he had said it, he took a culminating pinch of snuff, and put his 
  2.6550 +box in his pocket. 
  2.6551 +
  2.6552 +"Better to be a rational creature," he added then, after ringing a small 
  2.6553 +bell on the table, "and accept your natural destiny. But you are lost, 
  2.6554 +Monsieur Charles, I see." 
  2.6555 +
  2.6556 +
  2.6557 +
  2.6558 +129 
  2.6559 +
  2.6560 +
  2.6561 +
  2.6562 +"This property and France are lost to me," said the nephew, sadly; "I 
  2.6563 +renounce them." 
  2.6564 +
  2.6565 +"Are they both yours to renounce? France may be, but is the property? 
  2.6566 +It is scarcely worth mentioning; but, is it yet?" 
  2.6567 +
  2.6568 +"I had no intention, in the words I used, to claim it yet. If it passed to 
  2.6569 +me from you, to-morrow - " 
  2.6570 +
  2.6571 +"Which I have the vanity to hope is not probable." 
  2.6572 +
  2.6573 +"-or twenty years hence - " 
  2.6574 +
  2.6575 +"You do me too much honour," said the Marquis; "still, I prefer that 
  2.6576 +supposition." 
  2.6577 +
  2.6578 +"-I would abandon it, and live otherwise and elsewhere. It is little to 
  2.6579 +relinquish. What is it but a wilderness of misery and ruin!" 
  2.6580 +
  2.6581 +"Hah!" said the Marquis, glancing round the luxurious room. 
  2.6582 +
  2.6583 +"To the eye it is fair enough, here; but seen in its integrity, under the 
  2.6584 +sky, and by the daylight, it is a crumbling tower of waste, mismanage- 
  2.6585 +ment, extortion, debt, mortgage, oppression, hunger, nakedness, and 
  2.6586 +suffering." 
  2.6587 +
  2.6588 +"Hah!" said the Marquis again, in a well-satisfied manner. 
  2.6589 +
  2.6590 +"If it ever becomes mine, it shall be put into some hands better quali- 
  2.6591 +fied to free it slowly (if such a thing is possible) from the weight that 
  2.6592 +drags it down, so that the miserable people who cannot leave it and who 
  2.6593 +have been long wrung to the last point of endurance, may, in another 
  2.6594 +generation, suffer less; but it is not for me. There is a curse on it, and on 
  2.6595 +all this land." 
  2.6596 +
  2.6597 +"And you?" said the uncle. "Forgive my curiosity; do you, under your 
  2.6598 +new philosophy, graciously intend to live?" 
  2.6599 +
  2.6600 +"I must do, to live, what others of my countrymen, even with nobility 
  2.6601 +at their backs, may have to do some day- work." 
  2.6602 +
  2.6603 +"In England, for example?" 
  2.6604 +
  2.6605 +"Yes. The family honour, sir, is safe from me in this country. The fam- 
  2.6606 +ily name can suffer from me in no other, for I bear it in no other." 
  2.6607 +
  2.6608 +The ringing of the bell had caused the adjoining bed-chamber to be 
  2.6609 +lighted. It now shone brightly, through the door of communication. The 
  2.6610 +Marquis looked that way, and listened for the retreating step of his valet. 
  2.6611 +
  2.6612 +
  2.6613 +
  2.6614 +130 
  2.6615 +
  2.6616 +
  2.6617 +
  2.6618 +"England is very attractive to you, seeing how indifferently you have 
  2.6619 +prospered there," he observed then, turning his calm face to his nephew 
  2.6620 +with a smile. 
  2.6621 +
  2.6622 +"I have already said, that for my prospering there, I am sensible I may 
  2.6623 +be indebted to you, sir. For the rest, it is my Refuge." 
  2.6624 +
  2.6625 +"They say, those boastful English, that it is the Refuge of many. You 
  2.6626 +know a compatriot who has found a Refuge there? A Doctor?" 
  2.6627 +
  2.6628 +"Yes." 
  2.6629 +
  2.6630 +"With a daughter?" 
  2.6631 +
  2.6632 +"Yes." 
  2.6633 +
  2.6634 +"Yes," said the Marquis. "You are fatigued. Good night!" 
  2.6635 +
  2.6636 +As he bent his head in his most courtly manner, there was a secrecy in 
  2.6637 +his smiling face, and he conveyed an air of mystery to those words, 
  2.6638 +which struck the eyes and ears of his nephew forcibly. At the same time, 
  2.6639 +the thin straight lines of the setting of the eyes, and the thin straight lips, 
  2.6640 +and the markings in the nose, curved with a sarcasm that looked hand- 
  2.6641 +somely diabolic. 
  2.6642 +
  2.6643 +"Yes," repeated the Marquis. "A Doctor with a daughter. Yes. So com- 
  2.6644 +mences the new philosophy! You are fatigued. Good night!" 
  2.6645 +
  2.6646 +It would have been of as much avail to interrogate any stone face out- 
  2.6647 +side the chateau as to interrogate that face of his. The nephew looked at 
  2.6648 +him, in vain, in passing on to the door. 
  2.6649 +
  2.6650 +"Good night!" said the uncle. "I look to the pleasure of seeing you 
  2.6651 +again in the morning. Good repose! Light Monsieur my nephew to his 
  2.6652 +chamber there!- And burn Monsieur my nephew in his bed, if you will," 
  2.6653 +he added to himself, before he rang his little bell again, and summoned 
  2.6654 +his valet to his own bedroom. 
  2.6655 +
  2.6656 +The valet come and gone, Monsieur the Marquis walked to and fro in 
  2.6657 +his loose chamber-robe, to prepare himself gently for sleep, that hot still 
  2.6658 +night. Rustling about the room, his softly-slippered feet making no noise 
  2.6659 +on the floor, he moved like a refined tiger:- looked like some enchanted 
  2.6660 +marquis of the impenitently wicked sort, in story, whose periodical 
  2.6661 +change into tiger form was either just going off, or just coming on. 
  2.6662 +
  2.6663 +He moved from end to end of his voluptuous bedroom, looking again 
  2.6664 +at the scraps of the day's journey that came unbidden into his mind; the 
  2.6665 +slow toil up the hill at sunset, the setting sun, the descent, the mill, the 
  2.6666 +prison on the crag, the little village in the hollow, the peasants at the 
  2.6667 +
  2.6668 +
  2.6669 +
  2.6670 +131 
  2.6671 +
  2.6672 +
  2.6673 +
  2.6674 +fountain, and the mender of roads with his blue cap pointing out the 
  2.6675 +chain under the carriage. That fountain suggested the Paris fountain, the 
  2.6676 +little bundle lying on the step, the women bending over it, and the tall 
  2.6677 +man with his arms up, crying, "Dead!" 
  2.6678 +
  2.6679 +"I am cool now," said Monsieur the Marquis, "and may go to bed." 
  2.6680 +
  2.6681 +So, leaving only one light burning on the large hearth, he let his thin 
  2.6682 +gauze curtains fall around him, and heard the night break its silence with 
  2.6683 +a long sigh as he composed himself to sleep. 
  2.6684 +
  2.6685 +The stone faces on the outer walls stared blindly at the black night for 
  2.6686 +three heavy hours; for three heavy hours, the horses in the stables rattled 
  2.6687 +at their racks, the dogs barked, and the owl made a noise with very little 
  2.6688 +resemblance in it to the noise conventionally assigned to the owl by men- 
  2.6689 +poets. But it is the obstinate custom of such creatures hardly ever to say 
  2.6690 +what is set down for them. 
  2.6691 +
  2.6692 +For three heavy hours, the stone faces of the chateau, lion and human, 
  2.6693 +stared blindly at the night. Dead darkness lay on all the landscape, dead 
  2.6694 +darkness added its own hush to the hushing dust on all the roads. The 
  2.6695 +burial-place had got to the pass that its little heaps of poor grass were 
  2.6696 +undistinguishable from one another; the figure on the Cross might have 
  2.6697 +come down, for anything that could be seen of it. In the village, taxers 
  2.6698 +and taxed were fast asleep. Dreaming, perhaps, of banquets, as the 
  2.6699 +starved usually do, and of ease and rest, as the driven slave and the 
  2.6700 +yoked ox may, its lean inhabitants slept soundly, and were fed and freed. 
  2.6701 +
  2.6702 +The fountain in the village flowed unseen and unheard, and the foun- 
  2.6703 +tain at the chateau dropped unseen and unheard- both melting away, 
  2.6704 +like the minutes that were falling from the spring of Time- through three 
  2.6705 +dark hours. Then, the grey water of both began to be ghostly in the light, 
  2.6706 +and the eyes of the stone faces of the chateau were opened. 
  2.6707 +
  2.6708 +Lighter and lighter, until at last the sun touched the tops of the still 
  2.6709 +trees, and poured its radiance over the hill. In the glow, the water of the 
  2.6710 +chateau fountain seemed to turn to blood, and the stone faces crimsoned. 
  2.6711 +The carol of the birds was loud and high, and, on the weather-beaten sill 
  2.6712 +of the great window of the bed-chamber of Monsieur the Marquis, one 
  2.6713 +little bird sang its sweetest song with all its might. At this, the nearest 
  2.6714 +stone face seemed to stare amazed, and, with open mouth and dropped 
  2.6715 +under-jaw, looked awe-stricken. 
  2.6716 +
  2.6717 +Now, the sun was full up, and movement began in the village. Case- 
  2.6718 +ment windows opened, crazy doors were unbarred, and people came 
  2.6719 +forth shivering- chilled, as yet, by the new sweet air. Then began the 
  2.6720 +
  2.6721 +
  2.6722 +
  2.6723 +132 
  2.6724 +
  2.6725 +
  2.6726 +
  2.6727 +rarely lightened toil of the day among the village population. Some, to 
  2.6728 +the fountain; some, to the fields; men and women here, to dig and delve; 
  2.6729 +men and women there, to see to the poor live stock, and lead the bony 
  2.6730 +cows out, to such pasture as could be found by the roadside. In the 
  2.6731 +church and at the Cross, a kneeling figure or two; attendant on the latter 
  2.6732 +prayers, the led cow, trying for a breakfast among the weeds at its foot. 
  2.6733 +
  2.6734 +The chateau awoke later, as became its quality, but awoke gradually 
  2.6735 +and surely. First, the lonely boar-spears and knives of the chase had been 
  2.6736 +reddened as of old; then, had gleamed trenchant in the morning sun- 
  2.6737 +shine; now, doors and windows were thrown open, horses in their 
  2.6738 +stables looked round over their shoulders at the light and freshness 
  2.6739 +pouring in at doorways, leaves sparkled and rustled at iron-grated win- 
  2.6740 +dows, dogs pulled hard at their chains, and reared impatient to be 
  2.6741 +loosed. 
  2.6742 +
  2.6743 +All these trivial incidents belonged to the routine of life, and the return 
  2.6744 +of morning. Surely, not so the ringing of the great bell of the chateau, nor 
  2.6745 +the running up and down the stairs; nor the hurried figures on the ter- 
  2.6746 +race; nor the booting and tramping here and there and everywhere, nor 
  2.6747 +the quick saddling of horses and riding away? 
  2.6748 +
  2.6749 +What winds conveyed this hurry to the grizzled mender of roads, 
  2.6750 +already at work on the hill-top beyond the village, with his day's dinner 
  2.6751 +(not much to carry) lying in a bundle that it was worth no crow's while 
  2.6752 +to peck at, on a heap of stones? Had the birds, carrying some grains of it 
  2.6753 +to a distance, dropped one over him as they sow chance seeds? Whether 
  2.6754 +or no, the mender of roads ran, on the sultry morning, as if for his life, 
  2.6755 +down the hill, knee-high in dust, and never stopped till he got to the 
  2.6756 +fountain. 
  2.6757 +
  2.6758 +All the people of the village were at the fountain, standing about in 
  2.6759 +their depressed manner, and whispering low, but showing no other emo- 
  2.6760 +tions than grim curiosity and surprise. The led cows, hastily brought in 
  2.6761 +and tethered to anything that would hold them, were looking stupidly 
  2.6762 +on, or lying down chewing the cud of nothing particularly repaying their 
  2.6763 +trouble, which they had picked up in their interrupted saunter. Some of 
  2.6764 +the people of the chateau, and some of those of the posting-house, and 
  2.6765 +all the taxing authorities, were armed more or less, and were crowded on 
  2.6766 +the other side of the little street in a purposeless way, that was highly 
  2.6767 +fraught with nothing. Already, the mender of roads had penetrated into 
  2.6768 +the midst of a group of fifty particular friends, and was smiting himself 
  2.6769 +in the breast with his blue cap. What did all this portend, and what 
  2.6770 +
  2.6771 +
  2.6772 +
  2.6773 +133 
  2.6774 +
  2.6775 +
  2.6776 +
  2.6777 +portended the swift hoisting-up of Monsieur Gabelle behind a servant on 
  2.6778 +horseback, and the conveying away of the said Gabelle (double-laden 
  2.6779 +though the horse was), at a gallop, like a new version of the German bal- 
  2.6780 +lad of Leonora? 
  2.6781 +
  2.6782 +It portended that there was one stone face too many, up at the chateau. 
  2.6783 +
  2.6784 +The Gorgon had surveyed the building again in the night, and had ad- 
  2.6785 +ded the one stone face wanting; the stone face for which it had waited 
  2.6786 +through about two hundred years. 
  2.6787 +
  2.6788 +It lay back on the pillow of Monsieur the Marquis. It was like a fine 
  2.6789 +mask, suddenly startled, made angry, and petrified. Driven home into 
  2.6790 +the heart of the stone figure attached to it, was a knife. Round its hilt was 
  2.6791 +a frill of paper, on which was scrawled: 
  2.6792 +
  2.6793 +"Drive him fast to his tomb. This, from JACQUES." 
  2.6794 +
  2.6795 +
  2.6796 +
  2.6797 +134 
  2.6798 +
  2.6799 +
  2.6800 +
  2.6801 +Chapter 
  2.6802 +
  2.6803 +
  2.6804 +
  2.6805 +10 
  2.6806 +
  2.6807 +
  2.6808 +
  2.6809 +Two Promises 
  2.6810 +
  2.6811 +More months, to the number of twelve, had come and gone, and Mr. 
  2.6812 +Charles Darnay was established in England as a higher teacher of the 
  2.6813 +French language who was conversant with French literature. In this age, 
  2.6814 +he would have been a Professor; in that age, he was a Tutor. He read 
  2.6815 +with young men who could find any leisure and interest for the study of 
  2.6816 +a living tongue spoken all over the world, and he cultivated a taste for its 
  2.6817 +stores of knowledge and fancy. He could write of them, besides, in 
  2.6818 +sound English, and render them into sound English. Such masters were 
  2.6819 +not at that time easily found; Princes that had been, and Kings that were 
  2.6820 +to be, were not yet of the Teacher class, and no ruined nobility had 
  2.6821 +dropped out of Tellson's ledgers, to turn cooks and carpenters. As a tu- 
  2.6822 +tor, whose attainments made the student's way unusually pleasant and 
  2.6823 +profitable, and as an elegant translator who brought something to his 
  2.6824 +work besides mere dictionary knowledge, young Mr. Darnay soon be- 
  2.6825 +came known and encouraged. He was well acquainted, moreover, with 
  2.6826 +the circumstances of his country, and those were of ever-growing in- 
  2.6827 +terest. So, with great perseverance and untiring industry, he prospered. 
  2.6828 +
  2.6829 +In London, he had expected neither to walk on pavements of gold, nor 
  2.6830 +to lie on beds of roses; if he had had any such exalted expectation, he 
  2.6831 +would not have prospered. He had expected labour, and he found it, and 
  2.6832 +did it and made the best of it. In this, his prosperity consisted. 
  2.6833 +
  2.6834 +A certain portion of his time was passed at Cambridge, where he read 
  2.6835 +with undergraduates as a sort of tolerated smuggler who drove a contra- 
  2.6836 +band trade in European languages, instead of conveying Greek and Latin 
  2.6837 +through the Custom-house. The rest of his time he passed in London. 
  2.6838 +
  2.6839 +Now, from the days when it was always summer in Eden, to these 
  2.6840 +days when it is mostly winter in fallen latitudes, the world of a man has 
  2.6841 +invariably gone one way- Charles Darnay's way- the way of the love of a 
  2.6842 +woman. 
  2.6843 +
  2.6844 +
  2.6845 +
  2.6846 +135 
  2.6847 +
  2.6848 +
  2.6849 +
  2.6850 +He had loved Lucie Manette from the hour of his danger. He had nev- 
  2.6851 +er heard a sound so sweet and dear as the sound of her compassionate 
  2.6852 +voice; he had never seen a face so tenderly beautiful, as hers when it was 
  2.6853 +confronted with his own on the edge of the grave that had been dug for 
  2.6854 +him. But, he had not yet spoken to her on the subject; the assassination at 
  2.6855 +the deserted chateau far away beyond the heaving water and the long, 
  2.6856 +long, dusty roads- the solid stone chateau which had itself become the 
  2.6857 +mere mist of a dream- had been done a year, and he had never yet, by so 
  2.6858 +much as a single spoken word, disclosed to her the state of his heart. 
  2.6859 +
  2.6860 +That he had his reasons for this, he knew full well. It was again a sum- 
  2.6861 +mer day when, lately arrived in London from his college occupation, he 
  2.6862 +turned into the quiet corner in Soho, bent on seeking an opportunity of 
  2.6863 +opening his mind to Doctor Manette. It was the close of the summer day, 
  2.6864 +and he knew Lucie to be out with Miss Pross. 
  2.6865 +
  2.6866 +He found the Doctor reading in his arm-chair at a window. The energy 
  2.6867 +which had at once supported him under his old sufferings and aggrav- 
  2.6868 +ated their sharpness, had been gradually restored to him. He was now a 
  2.6869 +very energetic man indeed, with great firmness of purpose, strength of 
  2.6870 +resolution, and vigour of action. In his recovered energy he was some- 
  2.6871 +times a little fitful and sudden, as he had at first been in the exercise of 
  2.6872 +his other recovered faculties; but, this had never been frequently observ- 
  2.6873 +able, and had grown more and more rare. 
  2.6874 +
  2.6875 +He studied much, slept little, sustained a great deal of fatigue with 
  2.6876 +ease, and was equably cheerful. To him, now entered Charles Darnay, at 
  2.6877 +sight of whom he laid aside his book and held out his hand. 
  2.6878 +
  2.6879 +"Charles Darnay! I rejoice to see you. We have been counting on your 
  2.6880 +return these three or four days past. Mr. Stryver and Sydney Carton 
  2.6881 +were both here yesterday, and both made you out to be more than due." 
  2.6882 +
  2.6883 +"I am obliged to them for their interest in the matter," he answered, a 
  2.6884 +little coldly as to them, though very warmly as to the Doctor. "Miss 
  2.6885 +Manette - " 
  2.6886 +
  2.6887 +"Is well," said the Doctor, as he stopped short, "and your return will 
  2.6888 +delight us all. She has gone out on some household matters, but will 
  2.6889 +soon be home." 
  2.6890 +
  2.6891 +"Doctor Manette, I knew she was from home. I took the opportunity of 
  2.6892 +her being from home, to beg to speak to you." 
  2.6893 +
  2.6894 +There was a blank silence. 
  2.6895 +
  2.6896 +
  2.6897 +
  2.6898 +136 
  2.6899 +
  2.6900 +
  2.6901 +
  2.6902 +"Yes?" said the Doctor, with evident constraint. "Bring your chair 
  2.6903 +here, and speak on." 
  2.6904 +
  2.6905 +He complied as to the chair, but appeared to find the speaking on less 
  2.6906 +easy. 
  2.6907 +
  2.6908 +"I have had the happiness, Doctor Manette, of being so intimate here," 
  2.6909 +so he at length began, "for some year and a half, that I hope the topic on 
  2.6910 +which I am about to touch may not - " 
  2.6911 +
  2.6912 +He was stayed by the Doctor's putting out his hand to stop him. When 
  2.6913 +he had kept it so a little while, he said, drawing it back: 
  2.6914 +
  2.6915 +"Is Lucie the topic?" 
  2.6916 +
  2.6917 +"She is." 
  2.6918 +
  2.6919 +"It is hard for me to speak of her at any time. It is very hard for me to 
  2.6920 +hear her spoken of in that tone of yours, Charles Darnay." 
  2.6921 +
  2.6922 +"It is a tone of fervent admiration, true homage, and deep love, Doctor 
  2.6923 +Manette!" he said deferentially. 
  2.6924 +
  2.6925 +There was another blank silence before her father rejoined: 
  2.6926 +
  2.6927 +"I believe it. I do you justice; I believe it." 
  2.6928 +
  2.6929 +His constraint was so manifest, and it was so manifest, too, that it ori- 
  2.6930 +ginated in an unwillingness to approach the subject, that Charles Darnay 
  2.6931 +hesitated. 
  2.6932 +
  2.6933 +"Shall I go on, sir?" 
  2.6934 +
  2.6935 +Another blank. 
  2.6936 +
  2.6937 +"Yes, go on." 
  2.6938 +
  2.6939 +"You anticipate what I would say, though you cannot know how earn- 
  2.6940 +estly I say it, how earnestly I feel it, without knowing my secret heart, 
  2.6941 +and the hopes and fears and anxieties with which it has long been laden. 
  2.6942 +Dear Doctor Manette, I love your daughter fondly, dearly, disinter- 
  2.6943 +estedly, devotedly. If ever there were love in the world, I love her. You 
  2.6944 +have loved yourself; let your old love speak for me!" 
  2.6945 +
  2.6946 +The Doctor sat with his face turned away, and his eyes bent on the 
  2.6947 +ground. At the last words, he stretched out his hand again, hurriedly, 
  2.6948 +and cried: 
  2.6949 +
  2.6950 +"Not that, sir! Let that be! I adjure you, do not recall that!" 
  2.6951 +
  2.6952 +His cry was so like a cry of actual pain, that it rang in Charles Darnay's 
  2.6953 +ears long after he had ceased. He motioned with the hand he had 
  2.6954 +
  2.6955 +
  2.6956 +
  2.6957 +137 
  2.6958 +
  2.6959 +
  2.6960 +
  2.6961 +extended, and it seemed to be an appeal to Darnay to pause. The latter so 
  2.6962 +received it, and remained silent. 
  2.6963 +
  2.6964 +"I ask your pardon," said the Doctor, in a subdued tone, after some 
  2.6965 +moments. "I do not doubt your loving Lucie; you may be satisfied of it." 
  2.6966 +
  2.6967 +He turned towards him in his chair, but did not look at him, or raise 
  2.6968 +his eyes. His chin dropped upon his hand, and his white hair overshad- 
  2.6969 +owed his face: 
  2.6970 +
  2.6971 +"Have you spoken to Lucie?" 
  2.6972 +
  2.6973 +"No." 
  2.6974 +
  2.6975 +"Nor written?" 
  2.6976 +
  2.6977 +"Never." 
  2.6978 +
  2.6979 +"It would be ungenerous to affect not to know that your self-denial is 
  2.6980 +to be referred to your consideration for her father. Her father thanks 
  2.6981 +you." 
  2.6982 +
  2.6983 +He offered his hand; but his eyes did not go with it. 
  2.6984 +
  2.6985 +"I know," said Darnay, respectfully, "how can I fail to know, Doctor 
  2.6986 +Manette, I who have seen you together from day to day, that between 
  2.6987 +you and Miss Manette there is an affection so unusual, so touching, so 
  2.6988 +belonging to the circumstances in which it has been nurtured, that it can 
  2.6989 +have few parallels, even in the tenderness between a father and child. I 
  2.6990 +know, Doctor Manette- how can I fail to know- that, mingled with the af- 
  2.6991 +fection and duty of a daughter who has become a woman, there is, in her 
  2.6992 +heart, towards you, all the love and reliance of infancy itself. I know that, 
  2.6993 +as in her childhood she had no parent, so she is now devoted to you with 
  2.6994 +all the constancy and fervour of her present years and character, united 
  2.6995 +to the trustfulness and attachment of the early days in which you were 
  2.6996 +lost to her. I know perfectly well that if you had been restored to her 
  2.6997 +from the world beyond this life, you could hardly be invested, in her 
  2.6998 +sight, with a more sacred character than that in which you are always 
  2.6999 +with her. I know that when she is clinging to you, the hands of baby, girl, 
  2.7000 +and woman, all in one, are round your neck. I know that in loving you 
  2.7001 +she sees and loves her mother at her own age, sees and loves you at my 
  2.7002 +age, loves her mother broken-hearted, loves you through your dreadful 
  2.7003 +trial and in your blessed restoration. I have known this, night and day, 
  2.7004 +since I have known you in your home." 
  2.7005 +
  2.7006 +Her father sat silent, with his face bent down. His breathing was a little 
  2.7007 +quickened; but he repressed all other signs of agitation. 
  2.7008 +
  2.7009 +
  2.7010 +
  2.7011 +138 
  2.7012 +
  2.7013 +
  2.7014 +
  2.7015 +"Dear Doctor Manette, always knowing this, always seeing her and 
  2.7016 +you with this hallowed light about you, I have forborne, and forborne, as 
  2.7017 +long as it was in the nature of man to do it. I have felt, and do even now 
  2.7018 +feel, that to bring my love- even mine- between you, is to touch your his- 
  2.7019 +tory with something not quite so good as itself. But I love her. Heaven is 
  2.7020 +my witness that I love her!" 
  2.7021 +
  2.7022 +"I believe it," answered her father, mournfully. "I have thought so be- 
  2.7023 +fore now. I believe it." 
  2.7024 +
  2.7025 +"But, do not believe," said Darnay, upon whose ear the mournful 
  2.7026 +voice struck with a reproachful sound, "that if my fortune were so cast as 
  2.7027 +that, being one day so happy as to make her my wife, I must at any time 
  2.7028 +put any separation between her and you, I could or would breathe a 
  2.7029 +word of what I now say. Besides that I should know it to be hopeless, I 
  2.7030 +should know it to be a baseness. If I had any such possibility, even at a 
  2.7031 +remote distance of years, harboured in my thoughts, and hidden in my 
  2.7032 +heart- if it ever had been there- if it ever could be there- I could not now 
  2.7033 +touch this honoured hand." 
  2.7034 +
  2.7035 +He laid his own upon it as he spoke. 
  2.7036 +
  2.7037 +"No, dear Doctor Manette. Like you, a voluntary exile from France; 
  2.7038 +like you, driven from it by its distractions, oppressions, and miseries; like 
  2.7039 +you, striving to live away from it by my own exertions, and trusting in a 
  2.7040 +happier future; I look only to sharing your fortunes, sharing your Life 
  2.7041 +and home, and being faithful to you to the death. Not to divide with 
  2.7042 +Lucie her privilege as your child, companion, and friend; but to come in 
  2.7043 +aid of it, and bind her closer to you, if such a thing can be." 
  2.7044 +
  2.7045 +His touch still lingered on her father's hand. Answering the touch for a 
  2.7046 +moment, but not coldly, her father rested his hands upon the arms of his 
  2.7047 +chair, and looked up for the first time since the beginning of the confer- 
  2.7048 +ence. A struggle was evidently in his face; a struggle with that occasional 
  2.7049 +look which had a tendency in it to dark doubt and dread. 
  2.7050 +
  2.7051 +"You speak so feelingly and so manfully, Charles Darnay, that I thank 
  2.7052 +you with all my heart, and will open all my heart- or nearly so. Have you 
  2.7053 +any reason to believe that Lucie loves you?" 
  2.7054 +
  2.7055 +"None. As yet, none." 
  2.7056 +
  2.7057 +"Is it the immediate object of this confidence, that you may at once as- 
  2.7058 +certain that, with my knowledge?" 
  2.7059 +
  2.7060 +"Not even so. I might not have the hopefulness to do it for weeks; I 
  2.7061 +might (mistaken or not mistaken) have that hopefulness to-morrow." 
  2.7062 +
  2.7063 +
  2.7064 +
  2.7065 +139 
  2.7066 +
  2.7067 +
  2.7068 +
  2.7069 +"Do you seek any guidance from me?" 
  2.7070 +
  2.7071 +"I ask none, sir. But I have thought it possible that you might have it in 
  2.7072 +your power, if you should deem it right, to give me some." 
  2.7073 +
  2.7074 +"Do you seek any promise from me?" 
  2.7075 +
  2.7076 +"I do seek that." 
  2.7077 +
  2.7078 +"What is it?" 
  2.7079 +
  2.7080 +"I well understand that, without you, I could have no hope. I well un- 
  2.7081 +derstand that, even if Miss Manette held me at this moment in her inno- 
  2.7082 +cent heart- do not think I have the presumption to assume so much- I 
  2.7083 +could retain no place in it against her love for her father." 
  2.7084 +
  2.7085 +"If that be so, do you see what, on the other hand, is involved in it?" 
  2.7086 +
  2.7087 +"I understand equally well, that a word from her father in any suitor's 
  2.7088 +favour, would outweigh herself and all the world. For which reason, 
  2.7089 +Doctor Manette," said Darnay, modestly but firmly, "I would not ask 
  2.7090 +that word, to save my life." 
  2.7091 +
  2.7092 +"I am sure of it. Charles Darnay, mysteries arise out of close love, as 
  2.7093 +well as out of wide division; in the former case, they are subtle and delic- 
  2.7094 +ate, and difficult to penetrate. My daughter Lucie is, in this one respect, 
  2.7095 +such a mystery to me; I can make no guess at the state of her heart." 
  2.7096 +
  2.7097 +"May I ask, sir, if you think she is - " As he hesitated, her father sup- 
  2.7098 +plied the rest. 
  2.7099 +
  2.7100 +"Is sought by any other suitor?" 
  2.7101 +
  2.7102 +"It is what I meant to say." 
  2.7103 +
  2.7104 +Her father considered a Little before he answered: 
  2.7105 +
  2.7106 +"You have seen Mr. Carton here, yourself. Mr. Stryver is here too, oc- 
  2.7107 +casionally. If it be at all, it can only be by one of these." 
  2.7108 +
  2.7109 +"Or both," said Darnay. 
  2.7110 +
  2.7111 +"I had not thought of both; I should not think either, likely. You want 
  2.7112 +a promise from me. Tell me what it is." 
  2.7113 +
  2.7114 +"It is, that if Miss Manette should bring to you at any time, on her own 
  2.7115 +part, such a confidence as I have ventured to lay before you, you will 
  2.7116 +bear testimony to what I have said, and to your belief in it. I hope you 
  2.7117 +may be able to think so well of me, as to urge no influence against me. I 
  2.7118 +say nothing more of my stake in this; this is what I ask. The condition on 
  2.7119 +which I ask it, and which you have an undoubted right to require, I will 
  2.7120 +observe immediately." 
  2.7121 +
  2.7122 +
  2.7123 +
  2.7124 +140 
  2.7125 +
  2.7126 +
  2.7127 +
  2.7128 +"I give the promise," said the Doctor, "without any condition. I believe 
  2.7129 +your object to be, purely and truthfully, as you have stated it. I believe 
  2.7130 +your intention is to perpetuate, and not to weaken, the ties between me 
  2.7131 +and my other and far dearer self. If she should ever tell me that you are 
  2.7132 +essential to her perfect happiness, I will give her to you. If there were- 
  2.7133 +Charles Darnay, if there were - " 
  2.7134 +
  2.7135 +The young man had taken his hand gratefully; their bands were joined 
  2.7136 +as the Doctor spoke: 
  2.7137 +
  2.7138 +"-any fancies, any reasons, any apprehensions, anything whatsoever, 
  2.7139 +new or old, against the man she really loved- the direct responsibility 
  2.7140 +thereof not lying on his head- they should all be obliterated for her sake. 
  2.7141 +She is everything to me; more to me than suffering, more to me than 
  2.7142 +wrong, more to me - Well! This is idle talk." 
  2.7143 +
  2.7144 +So strange was the way in which he faded into silence, and so strange 
  2.7145 +his fixed look when he had ceased to speak, that Darnay felt his own 
  2.7146 +hand turn cold in the hand that slowly released and dropped it. 
  2.7147 +
  2.7148 +"You said something to me," said Doctor Manette, breaking into a 
  2.7149 +smile. "What was it you said to me?" 
  2.7150 +
  2.7151 +He was at a loss how to answer, until he remembered having spoken 
  2.7152 +of a condition. Relieved as his mind reverted to that, he answered: 
  2.7153 +
  2.7154 +"Your confidence in me ought to be returned with full confidence on 
  2.7155 +my part. My present name, though but slightly changed from my moth- 
  2.7156 +er's, is not, as you will remember, my own. I wish to tell you what that 
  2.7157 +is, and why I am in England." 
  2.7158 +
  2.7159 +"Stop!" said the Doctor of Beauvais. 
  2.7160 +
  2.7161 +"I wish it, that I may the better deserve your confidence, and have no 
  2.7162 +secret from you." 
  2.7163 +
  2.7164 +"Stop!" 
  2.7165 +
  2.7166 +For an instant, the Doctor even had his two hands at his ears; for an- 
  2.7167 +other instant, even had his two hands laid on Darnay 's lips. 
  2.7168 +
  2.7169 +"Tell me when I ask you, not now. If your suit should prosper, if Lucie 
  2.7170 +should love you, you shall tell me on your marriage morning. Do you 
  2.7171 +promise?" 
  2.7172 +
  2.7173 +"Willingly." 
  2.7174 +
  2.7175 +"Give me your hand. She will be home directly, and it is better she 
  2.7176 +should not see us together to-night. Go! God bless you!" 
  2.7177 +
  2.7178 +
  2.7179 +
  2.7180 +141 
  2.7181 +
  2.7182 +
  2.7183 +
  2.7184 +It was dark when Charles Darnay left him, and it was an hour later 
  2.7185 +and darker when Lucie came home; she hurried into the room alone- for 
  2.7186 +Miss Pross had gone straight up-stairs- and was surprised to find his 
  2.7187 +reading-chair empty. 
  2.7188 +
  2.7189 +"My father!" she called to him. "Father dear!" 
  2.7190 +
  2.7191 +Nothing was said in answer, but she heard a low hammering sound in 
  2.7192 +his bedroom. Passing lightly across the intermediate room, she looked in 
  2.7193 +at his door and came running back frightened, crying to herself, with her 
  2.7194 +blood all chilled, "What shall I do! What shall I do!" 
  2.7195 +
  2.7196 +Her uncertainty lasted but a moment; she hurried back, and tapped at 
  2.7197 +his door, and softly called to him. The noise ceased at the sound of her 
  2.7198 +voice, and he presently came out to her, and they walked up and down 
  2.7199 +together for a long time. 
  2.7200 +
  2.7201 +She came down from her bed, to look at him in his sleep that night. He 
  2.7202 +slept heavily, and his tray of shoemaking tools, and his old unfinished 
  2.7203 +work, were all as usual. 
  2.7204 +
  2.7205 +
  2.7206 +
  2.7207 +142 
  2.7208 +
  2.7209 +
  2.7210 +
  2.7211 +Chapter 
  2.7212 +
  2.7213 +
  2.7214 +
  2.7215 +11 
  2.7216 +
  2.7217 +
  2.7218 +
  2.7219 +A Companion Picture 
  2.7220 +
  2.7221 +"Sydney," said Mr. Stryver, on that self-same night, or morning, to his 
  2.7222 +jackal; "mix another bowl of punch; I have something to say to you." 
  2.7223 +
  2.7224 +Sydney had been working double tides that night, and the night be- 
  2.7225 +fore, and the night before that, and a good many nights in succession, 
  2.7226 +making a grand clearance among Mr. Stryver's papers before the setting 
  2.7227 +in of the long vacation. The clearance was effected at last; the Stryver ar- 
  2.7228 +rears were handsomely fetched up; everything was got rid of until 
  2.7229 +November should come with its fogs atmospheric, and fogs legal, and 
  2.7230 +bring grist to the mill again. 
  2.7231 +
  2.7232 +Sydney was none the livelier and none the soberer for so much applic- 
  2.7233 +ation. It had taken a deal of extra wet-towelling to pull him through the 
  2.7234 +night; a correspondingly extra quantity of wine had preceded the towel- 
  2.7235 +ling; and he was in a very damaged condition, as he now pulled his 
  2.7236 +turban off and threw it into the basin in which he had steeped it at inter- 
  2.7237 +vals for the last six hours. 
  2.7238 +
  2.7239 +"Are you mixing that other bowl of punch?" said Stryver the portly, 
  2.7240 +with his hands in his waistband, glancing round from the sofa where he 
  2.7241 +lay on his back. 
  2.7242 +
  2.7243 +"I am." 
  2.7244 +
  2.7245 +"Now, look here! I am going to tell you something that will rather sur- 
  2.7246 +prise you, and that perhaps will make you think me not quite as shrewd 
  2.7247 +as you usually do think me. I intend to marry." 
  2.7248 +
  2.7249 +"Do you?" 
  2.7250 +
  2.7251 +"Yes. And not for money. What do you say now?" 
  2.7252 +
  2.7253 +"I don't feel disposed to say much. Who is she?" 
  2.7254 +
  2.7255 +"Guess." 
  2.7256 +
  2.7257 +"Do I know her?" 
  2.7258 +
  2.7259 +"Guess." 
  2.7260 +
  2.7261 +
  2.7262 +
  2.7263 +143 
  2.7264 +
  2.7265 +
  2.7266 +
  2.7267 +"I am not going to guess, at five o'clock in the morning, with my brains 
  2.7268 +frying and sputtering in my head. If you want me to guess, you must ask 
  2.7269 +me to dinner." 
  2.7270 +
  2.7271 +"Well then, I'll tell you," said Stryver, coming slowly into a sitting pos- 
  2.7272 +ture. "Sydney, I rather despair of making myself intelligible to you, be- 
  2.7273 +cause you are such an insensible dog." 
  2.7274 +
  2.7275 +"And you," returned Sydney, busy concocting the punch, "are such a 
  2.7276 +sensitive and poetical spirit." 
  2.7277 +
  2.7278 +"Come!" rejoined Stryver, laughing boastfully, "though I don't prefer 
  2.7279 +any claim to being the soul of Romance (for I hope I know better), still I 
  2.7280 +am a tenderer sort of fellow than you." 
  2.7281 +
  2.7282 +"You are a luckier, if you mean that." 
  2.7283 +
  2.7284 +"I don't mean that. I mean I am a man of more - more - " 
  2.7285 +
  2.7286 +"Say gallantry, while you are about it," suggested Carton. 
  2.7287 +
  2.7288 +"Well! I'll say gallantry. My meaning is that I am a man," said Stryver, 
  2.7289 +inflating himself at his friend as he made the punch, "who cares more to 
  2.7290 +be agreeable, who takes more pains to be agreeable, who knows better 
  2.7291 +how to be agreeable, in a woman's society, than you do." 
  2.7292 +
  2.7293 +"Go on," said Sydney Carton. 
  2.7294 +
  2.7295 +"No; but before I go on," said Stryver, shaking his head in his bullying 
  2.7296 +way, "I'll have this out with you. You've been at Doctor Manette's house 
  2.7297 +as much as I have, or more than I have. Why, I have been ashamed of 
  2.7298 +your moroseness there! Your manners have been of that silent and sullen 
  2.7299 +and hangdog kind, that, upon my life and soul, I have been ashamed of 
  2.7300 +you, Sydney!" 
  2.7301 +
  2.7302 +"It should be very beneficial to a man in your practice at the bar, to be 
  2.7303 +ashamed of anything," returned Sydney; "you ought to be much obliged 
  2.7304 +to me." 
  2.7305 +
  2.7306 +"You shall not get off in that way," rejoined Stryver, shouldering the 
  2.7307 +rejoinder at him; "no, Sydney, it's my duty to tell you - and I tell you to 
  2.7308 +your face to do you good - that you are a devilish ill-conditioned fellow 
  2.7309 +in that sort of society. You are a disagreeable fellow." 
  2.7310 +
  2.7311 +Sydney drank a bumper of the punch he had made, and laughed. 
  2.7312 +
  2.7313 +"Look at me!" said Stryver, squaring himself; "I have less need to make 
  2.7314 +myself agreeable than you have, being more independent in circum- 
  2.7315 +stances. Why do I do it?" 
  2.7316 +
  2.7317 +"I never saw you do it yet," muttered Carton. 
  2.7318 +
  2.7319 +
  2.7320 +
  2.7321 +144 
  2.7322 +
  2.7323 +
  2.7324 +
  2.7325 +"I do it because it's politic; I do it on principle. And look at me! I get 
  2.7326 +on." 
  2.7327 +
  2.7328 +"You don't get on with your account of your matrimonial intentions," 
  2.7329 +answered Carton, with a careless air; "I wish you would keep to that. As 
  2.7330 +to me - will you never understand that I am incorrigible?" 
  2.7331 +
  2.7332 +He asked the question with some appearance of scorn. 
  2.7333 +
  2.7334 +"You have no business to be incorrigible," was his friend's answer, de- 
  2.7335 +livered in no very soothing tone. 
  2.7336 +
  2.7337 +"I have no business to be, at all, that I know of," said Sydney Carton. 
  2.7338 +"Who is the lady?" 
  2.7339 +
  2.7340 +"Now, don't let my announcement of the name make you uncomfort- 
  2.7341 +able, Sydney," said Mr. Stryver, preparing him with ostentatious friendli- 
  2.7342 +ness for the disclosure he was about to make, "because I know you don't 
  2.7343 +mean half you say; and if you meant it all, it would be of no importance. 
  2.7344 +I make this little preface, because you once mentioned the young lady to 
  2.7345 +me in slighting terms." 
  2.7346 +
  2.7347 +"I did?" 
  2.7348 +
  2.7349 +"Certainly; and in these chambers." 
  2.7350 +
  2.7351 +Sydney Carton looked at his punch and looked at his complacent 
  2.7352 +friend; drank his punch and looked at his complacent friend. 
  2.7353 +
  2.7354 +"You made mention of the young lady as a golden-haired doll. The 
  2.7355 +young lady is Miss Manette. If you had been a fellow of any sensitive- 
  2.7356 +ness or delicacy of feeling in that kind of way, Sydney, I might have been 
  2.7357 +a little resentful of your employing such a designation; but you are not. 
  2.7358 +You want that sense altogether; therefore I am no more annoyed when I 
  2.7359 +think of the expression, than I should be annoyed by a man's opinion of a 
  2.7360 +picture of mine, who had no eye for pictures: or of a piece of music of 
  2.7361 +mine, who had no ear for music." 
  2.7362 +
  2.7363 +Sydney Carton drank the punch at a great rate; drank it by bumpers, 
  2.7364 +looking at his friend. 
  2.7365 +
  2.7366 +"Now you know all about it, Syd," said Mr. Stryver. "I don't care about 
  2.7367 +fortune: she is a charming creature, and I have made up my mind to 
  2.7368 +please myself: on the whole, I think I can afford to please myself. She 
  2.7369 +will have in me a man already pretty well off, and a rapidly rising man, 
  2.7370 +and a man of some distinction: it is a piece of good fortune for her, but 
  2.7371 +she is worthy of good fortune. Are you astonished?" 
  2.7372 +
  2.7373 +
  2.7374 +
  2.7375 +145 
  2.7376 +
  2.7377 +
  2.7378 +
  2.7379 +Carton, still drinking the punch, rejoined, "Why should I be 
  2.7380 +astonished?" 
  2.7381 +
  2.7382 +"You approve?" 
  2.7383 +
  2.7384 +Carton, still drinking the punch, rejoined, "Why should I not 
  2.7385 +approve?" 
  2.7386 +
  2.7387 +"Well!" said his friend Stryver, "you take it more easily than I fancied 
  2.7388 +you would, and are less mercenary on my behalf than I thought you 
  2.7389 +would be; though, to be sure, you know well enough by this time that 
  2.7390 +your ancient chum is a man of a pretty strong will. Yes, Sydney, I have 
  2.7391 +had enough of this style of life, with no other as a change from it; I feel 
  2.7392 +that it is a pleasant thing for a man to have a home when he feels in- 
  2.7393 +clined to go to it (when he doesn't, he can stay away), and I feel that Miss 
  2.7394 +Manette will tell well in any station, and will always do me credit. So I 
  2.7395 +have made up my mind. And now, Sydney, old boy, I want to say a 
  2.7396 +word to you about your prospects. You are in a bad way, you know; you 
  2.7397 +really are in a bad way. You don't know the value of money, you live 
  2.7398 +hard, you'll knock up one of these days, and be ill and poor; you really 
  2.7399 +ought to think about a nurse." 
  2.7400 +
  2.7401 +The prosperous patronage with which he said it, made him look twice 
  2.7402 +as big as he was, and four times as offensive. 
  2.7403 +
  2.7404 +"Now, let me recommend you," pursued Stryver, "to look it in the face. 
  2.7405 +I have looked it in the face, in my different way; look it in the face, you, 
  2.7406 +in your different way. Marry. Provide somebody to take care of you. 
  2.7407 +Never mind your having no enjoyment of women's society, nor under- 
  2.7408 +standing of it, nor tact for it. Find out somebody. Find out some respect- 
  2.7409 +able woman with a little property - somebody in the landlady way, or 
  2.7410 +lodging-letting way - and marry her, against a rainy day. That's the kind 
  2.7411 +of thing for you. Now think of it, Sydney." 
  2.7412 +
  2.7413 +"I'll think of it," said Sydney. 
  2.7414 +
  2.7415 +
  2.7416 +
  2.7417 +146 
  2.7418 +
  2.7419 +
  2.7420 +
  2.7421 +Chapter 
  2.7422 +
  2.7423 +
  2.7424 +
  2.7425 +12 
  2.7426 +
  2.7427 +
  2.7428 +
  2.7429 +The Fellow of Delicacy 
  2.7430 +
  2.7431 +Mr. Stryver having made up his mind to that magnanimous bestowal 
  2.7432 +of good fortune on the Doctor's daughter, resolved to make her happi- 
  2.7433 +ness known to her before he left town for the Long Vacation. After some 
  2.7434 +mental debating of the point, he came to the conclusion that it would be 
  2.7435 +as well to get all the preliminaries done with, and they could then ar- 
  2.7436 +range at their leisure whether he should give her his hand a week or two 
  2.7437 +before Michaelmas Term, or in the little Christmas vacation between it 
  2.7438 +and Hilary. 
  2.7439 +
  2.7440 +As to the strength of his case, he had not a doubt about it, but clearly 
  2.7441 +saw his way to the verdict. Argued with the jury on substantial worldly 
  2.7442 +grounds - the only grounds ever worth taking into account - it was a 
  2.7443 +plain case, and had not a weak spot in it. He called himself for the 
  2.7444 +plaintiff, there was no getting over his evidence, the counsel for the de- 
  2.7445 +fendant threw up his brief, and the jury did not even turn to consider. 
  2.7446 +After trying it, Stryver, C. J., was satisfied that no plainer case could be. 
  2.7447 +
  2.7448 +Accordingly, Mr. Stryver inaugurated the Long Vacation with a formal 
  2.7449 +proposal to take Miss Manette to Vauxhall Gardens; that failing, to 
  2.7450 +Ranelagh; that unaccountably failing too, it behoved him to present him- 
  2.7451 +self in Soho, and there declare his noble mind. 
  2.7452 +
  2.7453 +Towards Soho, therefore, Mr. Stryver shouldered his way from the 
  2.7454 +Temple, while the bloom of the Long Vacation's infancy was still upon it. 
  2.7455 +Anybody who had seen him projecting himself into Soho while he was 
  2.7456 +yet on Saint Dunstan's side of Temple Bar, bursting in his full-blown 
  2.7457 +way along the pavement, to the jostlement of all weaker people, might 
  2.7458 +have seen how safe and strong he was. 
  2.7459 +
  2.7460 +His way taking him past Tellson's, and he both banking at Tellson's 
  2.7461 +and knowing Mr. Lorry as the intimate friend of the Manettes, it entered 
  2.7462 +Mr. Stryver's mind to enter the bank, and reveal to Mr. Lorry the bright- 
  2.7463 +ness of the Soho horizon. So, he pushed open the door with the weak 
  2.7464 +
  2.7465 +
  2.7466 +
  2.7467 +147 
  2.7468 +
  2.7469 +
  2.7470 +
  2.7471 +rattle in its throat, stumbled down the two steps, got past the two ancient 
  2.7472 +cashiers, and shouldered himself into the musty back closet where Mr. 
  2.7473 +Lorry sat at great books ruled for figures, with perpendicular iron bars to 
  2.7474 +his window as if that were ruled for figures too, and everything under 
  2.7475 +the clouds were a sum. 
  2.7476 +
  2.7477 +"Halloa!" said Mr. Stryver. "How do you do? I hope you are well!" 
  2.7478 +
  2.7479 +It was Stryver's grand peculiarity that he always seemed too big for 
  2.7480 +any place, or space. He was so much too big for Tellson's, that old clerks 
  2.7481 +in distant corners looked up with looks of remonstrance, as though he 
  2.7482 +squeezed them against the wall. The House itself, magnificently reading 
  2.7483 +the paper quite in the far-off perspective, lowered displeased, as if the 
  2.7484 +Stryver head had been butted into its responsible waistcoat. 
  2.7485 +
  2.7486 +The discreet Mr. Lorry said, in a sample tone of the voice he would re- 
  2.7487 +commend under the circumstances, "How do you do, Mr. Stryver? How 
  2.7488 +do you do, sir?" and shook hands. There was a peculiarity in his manner 
  2.7489 +of shaking hands, always to be seen in any clerk at Tellson's who shook 
  2.7490 +hands with a customer when the House pervaded the air. He shook in a 
  2.7491 +self-abnegating way, as one who shook for Tellson and Co. 
  2.7492 +
  2.7493 +"Can I do anything for you, Mr. Stryver?" asked Mr. Lorry, in his busi- 
  2.7494 +ness character. 
  2.7495 +
  2.7496 +"Why, no, thank you; this is a private visit to yourself, Mr. Lorry; I 
  2.7497 +have come for a private word." 
  2.7498 +
  2.7499 +"Oh indeed!" said Mr. Lorry, bending down his ear, while his eye 
  2.7500 +strayed to the House afar off. 
  2.7501 +
  2.7502 +"I am going," said Mr. Stryver, leaning his arms confidentially on the 
  2.7503 +desk: whereupon, although it was a large double one, there appeared to 
  2.7504 +be not half desk enough for him: "I am going to make an offer of myself 
  2.7505 +in marriage to your agreeable little friend, Miss Manette, Mr. Lorry." 
  2.7506 +
  2.7507 +"Oh dear me!" cried Mr. Lorry, rubbing his chin, and looking at his 
  2.7508 +visitor dubiously. 
  2.7509 +
  2.7510 +"Oh dear me, sir?" repeated Stryver, drawing back. "Oh dear you, sir? 
  2.7511 +What may your meaning be, Mr. Lorry?" 
  2.7512 +
  2.7513 +"My meaning," answered the man of business, "is, of course, friendly 
  2.7514 +and appreciative, and that it does you the greatest credit, and - in short, 
  2.7515 +my meaning is everything you could desire. But - really, you know, Mr. 
  2.7516 +Stryver - " Mr. Lorry paused, and shook his head at him in the oddest 
  2.7517 +manner, as if he were compelled against his will to add, internally, "you 
  2.7518 +know there really is so much too much of you!" 
  2.7519 +
  2.7520 +
  2.7521 +
  2.7522 +148 
  2.7523 +
  2.7524 +
  2.7525 +
  2.7526 +"Well!" said Stryver, slapping the desk with his contentious hand, 
  2.7527 +opening his eyes wider, and taking a long breath, "if I understand you, 
  2.7528 +Mr. Lorry, I'll be hanged!" 
  2.7529 +
  2.7530 +Mr. Lorry adjusted his little wig at both ears as a means towards that 
  2.7531 +end, and bit the feather of a pen. 
  2.7532 +
  2.7533 +"D - n it all, sir!" said Stryver, staring at him, "am I not eligible?" 
  2.7534 +
  2.7535 +"Oh dear yes! Yes. Oh yes, you're eligible!" said Mr. Lorry. "If you say 
  2.7536 +eligible, you are eligible." 
  2.7537 +
  2.7538 +"Am I not prosperous?" asked Stryver. 
  2.7539 +
  2.7540 +"Oh! if you come to prosperous, you are prosperous," said Mr. Lorry. 
  2.7541 +
  2.7542 +"And advancing?" 
  2.7543 +
  2.7544 +"If you come to advancing you know," said Mr. Lorry, delighted to be 
  2.7545 +able to make another admission, "nobody can doubt that." 
  2.7546 +
  2.7547 +"Then what on earth is your meaning, Mr. Lorry?" demanded Stryver, 
  2.7548 +perceptibly crestfallen. 
  2.7549 +
  2.7550 +"Well! I - Were you going there now?" asked Mr. Lorry. 
  2.7551 +
  2.7552 +"Straight!" said Stryver, with a plump of his fist on the desk. 
  2.7553 +
  2.7554 +"Then I think I wouldn't, if I was you." 
  2.7555 +
  2.7556 +"Why?" said Stryver. "Now, I'll put you in a corner," forensically 
  2.7557 +shaking a forefinger at him. "You are a man of business and bound to 
  2.7558 +have a reason. State your reason. Why wouldn't you go?" 
  2.7559 +
  2.7560 +"Because," said Mr. Lorry, "I wouldn't go on such an object without 
  2.7561 +having some cause to believe that I should succeed." 
  2.7562 +
  2.7563 +"D - n me!" cried Stryver, "but this beats everything." 
  2.7564 +
  2.7565 +Mr. Lorry glanced at the distant House, and glanced at the angry 
  2.7566 +Stryver. 
  2.7567 +
  2.7568 +"Here's a man of business - a man of years - a man of experience - in 
  2.7569 +a Bank," said Stryver; "and having summed up three leading reasons for 
  2.7570 +complete success, he says there's no reason at all! Says it with his head 
  2.7571 +on!" Mr. Stryver remarked upon the peculiarity as if it would have been 
  2.7572 +infinitely less remarkable if he had said it with his head off. 
  2.7573 +
  2.7574 +"When I speak of success, I speak of success with the young lady; and 
  2.7575 +when I speak of causes and reasons to make success probable, I speak of 
  2.7576 +causes and reasons that will tell as such with the young lady. The young 
  2.7577 +lady, my good sir," said Mr. Lorry, mildly tapping the Stryver arm, "the 
  2.7578 +young lady. The young lady goes before all." 
  2.7579 +
  2.7580 +
  2.7581 +
  2.7582 +149 
  2.7583 +
  2.7584 +
  2.7585 +
  2.7586 +"Then you mean to tell me, Mr. Lorry," said Stryver, squaring his el- 
  2.7587 +bows, "that it is your deliberate opinion that the young lady at present in 
  2.7588 +question is a mincing Fool?" 
  2.7589 +
  2.7590 +"Not exactly so. I mean to tell you, Mr. Stryver," said Mr. Lorry, red- 
  2.7591 +dening, "that I will hear no disrespectful word of that young lady from 
  2.7592 +any lips; and that if I knew any man - which I hope I do not - whose 
  2.7593 +taste was so coarse, and whose temper was so overbearing, that he could 
  2.7594 +not restrain himself from speaking disrespectfully of that young lady at 
  2.7595 +this desk, not even Tellson's should prevent my giving him a piece of my 
  2.7596 +mind." 
  2.7597 +
  2.7598 +The necessity of being angry in a suppressed tone had put Mr. 
  2.7599 +Stryver's blood-vessels into a dangerous state when it was his turn to be 
  2.7600 +angry; Mr. Lorry's veins, methodical as their courses could usually be, 
  2.7601 +were in no better state now it was his turn. 
  2.7602 +
  2.7603 +"That is what I mean to tell you, sir," said Mr. Lorry. "Pray let there be 
  2.7604 +no mistake about it." 
  2.7605 +
  2.7606 +Mr. Stryver sucked the end of a ruler for a little while, and then stood 
  2.7607 +hitting a tune out of his teeth with it, which probably gave him the 
  2.7608 +toothache. He broke the awkward silence by saying: 
  2.7609 +
  2.7610 +"This is something new to me, Mr. Lorry. You deliberately advise me 
  2.7611 +not to go up to Soho and offer myself - myself, Stryver of the King's 
  2.7612 +Bench bar?" 
  2.7613 +
  2.7614 +"Do you ask me for my advice, Mr. Stryver?" 
  2.7615 +
  2.7616 +"Yes, I do." 
  2.7617 +
  2.7618 +"Very good. Then I give it, and you have repeated it correctly." 
  2.7619 +
  2.7620 +"And all I can say of it is," laughed Stryver with a vexed laugh, "that 
  2.7621 +this - ha, ha! - beats everything past, present, and to come." 
  2.7622 +
  2.7623 +"Now understand me," pursued Mr. Lorry. "As a man of business, I 
  2.7624 +am not justified in saying anything about this matter, for, as a man of 
  2.7625 +business, I know nothing of it. But, as an old fellow, who has carried 
  2.7626 +Miss Manette in his arms, who is the trusted friend of Miss Manette and 
  2.7627 +of her father too, and who has a great affection for them both, I have 
  2.7628 +spoken. The confidence is not of my seeking, recollect. Now, you think I 
  2.7629 +may not be right?" 
  2.7630 +
  2.7631 +"Not I!" said Stryver, whistling. "I can't undertake to find third parties 
  2.7632 +in common sense; I can only find it for myself. I suppose sense in certain 
  2.7633 +quarters; you suppose mincing bread-and-butter nonsense. It's new to 
  2.7634 +me, but you are right, I dare say." 
  2.7635 +
  2.7636 +
  2.7637 +
  2.7638 +150 
  2.7639 +
  2.7640 +
  2.7641 +
  2.7642 +"What I suppose, Mr. Stryver, I claim to characterise for myself - And 
  2.7643 +understand me, sir," said Mr. Lorry, quickly flushing again, "I will 
  2.7644 +not - not even at Tellson's - have it characterised for me by any gentle- 
  2.7645 +man breathing." 
  2.7646 +
  2.7647 +"There! I beg your pardon!" said Stryver. 
  2.7648 +
  2.7649 +"Granted. Thank you. Well, Mr. Stryver, I was about to say: - it might 
  2.7650 +be painful to you to find yourself mistaken, it might be painful to Doctor 
  2.7651 +Manette to have the task of being explicit with you, it might be very 
  2.7652 +painful to Miss Manette to have the task of being explicit with you. You 
  2.7653 +know the terms upon which I have the honour and happiness to stand 
  2.7654 +with the family. If you please, committing you in no way, representing 
  2.7655 +you in no way, I will undertake to correct my advice by the exercise of a 
  2.7656 +little new observation and judgment expressly brought to bear upon it. If 
  2.7657 +you should then be dissatisfied with it, you can but test its soundness for 
  2.7658 +yourself; if, on the other hand, you should be satisfied with it, and it 
  2.7659 +should be what it now is, it may spare all sides what is best spared. What 
  2.7660 +do you say?" 
  2.7661 +
  2.7662 +"How long would you keep me in town?" 
  2.7663 +
  2.7664 +"Oh! It is only a question of a few hours. I could go to Soho in the 
  2.7665 +evening, and come to your chambers afterwards." 
  2.7666 +
  2.7667 +"Then I say yes," said Stryver: "I won't go up there now, I am not so 
  2.7668 +hot upon it as that comes to; I say yes, and I shall expect you to look in 
  2.7669 +to-night. Good morning." 
  2.7670 +
  2.7671 +Then Mr. Stryver turned and burst out of the Bank, causing such a 
  2.7672 +concussion of air on his passage through, that to stand up against it bow- 
  2.7673 +ing behind the two counters, required the utmost remaining strength of 
  2.7674 +the two ancient clerks. Those venerable and feeble persons were always 
  2.7675 +seen by the public in the act of bowing, and were popularly believed, 
  2.7676 +when they had bowed a customer out, still to keep on bowing in the 
  2.7677 +empty office until they bowed another customer in. 
  2.7678 +
  2.7679 +The barrister was keen enough to divine that the banker would not 
  2.7680 +have gone so far in his expression of opinion on any less solid ground 
  2.7681 +than moral certainty. Unprepared as he was for the large pill he had to 
  2.7682 +swallow, he got it down. "And now," said Mr. Stryver, shaking his 
  2.7683 +forensic forefinger at the Temple in general, when it was down, "my way 
  2.7684 +out of this, is, to put you all in the wrong." 
  2.7685 +
  2.7686 +
  2.7687 +
  2.7688 +151 
  2.7689 +
  2.7690 +
  2.7691 +
  2.7692 +It was a bit of the art of an Old Bailey tactician, in which he found 
  2.7693 +great relief. "You shall not put me in the wrong, young lady," said Mr. 
  2.7694 +Stryver; "I'll do that for you." 
  2.7695 +
  2.7696 +Accordingly, when Mr. Lorry called that night as late as ten o'clock, 
  2.7697 +Mr. Stryver, among a quantity of books and papers littered out for the 
  2.7698 +purpose, seemed to have nothing less on his mind than the subject of the 
  2.7699 +morning. He even showed surprise when he saw Mr. Lorry, and was al- 
  2.7700 +together in an absent and preoccupied state. 
  2.7701 +
  2.7702 +"Well!" said that good-natured emissary, after a full half -hour of boot- 
  2.7703 +less attempts to bring him round to the question. "I have been to Soho." 
  2.7704 +
  2.7705 +"To Soho?" repeated Mr. Stryver, coldly. "Oh, to be sure! What am I 
  2.7706 +thinking of!" 
  2.7707 +
  2.7708 +"And I have no doubt," said Mr. Lorry, "that I was right in the conver- 
  2.7709 +sation we had. My opinion is confirmed, and I reiterate my advice." 
  2.7710 +
  2.7711 +"I assure you," returned Mr. Stryver, in the friendliest way, "that I am 
  2.7712 +sorry for it on your account, and sorry for it on the poor father's account. 
  2.7713 +I know this must always be a sore subject with the family; let us say no 
  2.7714 +more about it." 
  2.7715 +
  2.7716 +"I don't understand you," said Mr. Lorry. 
  2.7717 +
  2.7718 +"I dare say not," rejoined Stryver, nodding his head in a smoothing 
  2.7719 +and final way; "no matter, no matter." 
  2.7720 +
  2.7721 +"But it does matter," Mr. Lorry urged. 
  2.7722 +
  2.7723 +"No it doesn't; I assure you it doesn't. Having supposed that there was 
  2.7724 +sense where there is no sense, and a laudable ambition where there is not 
  2.7725 +a laudable ambition, I am well out of my mistake, and no harm is done. 
  2.7726 +Young women have committed similar follies often before, and have re- 
  2.7727 +pented them in poverty and obscurity often before. In an unselfish as- 
  2.7728 +pect, I am sorry that the thing is dropped, because it would have been a 
  2.7729 +bad thing for me in a worldly point of view; in a selfish aspect, I am glad 
  2.7730 +that the thing has dropped, because it would have been a bad thing for 
  2.7731 +me in a worldly point of view - it is hardly necessary to say I could have 
  2.7732 +gained nothing by it. There is no harm at all done. I have not proposed to 
  2.7733 +the young lady, and, between ourselves, I am by no means certain, on re- 
  2.7734 +flexion, that I ever should have committed myself to that extent. Mr. 
  2.7735 +Lorry, you cannot control the mincing vanities and giddinesses of 
  2.7736 +empty-headed girls; you must not expect to do it, or you will always be 
  2.7737 +disappointed. Now, pray say no more about it. I tell you, I regret it on ac- 
  2.7738 +count of others, but I am satisfied on my own account. And I am really 
  2.7739 +
  2.7740 +
  2.7741 +
  2.7742 +152 
  2.7743 +
  2.7744 +
  2.7745 +
  2.7746 +very much obliged to you for allowing me to sound you, and for giving 
  2.7747 +me your advice; you know the young lady better than I do; you were 
  2.7748 +right, it never would have done." 
  2.7749 +
  2.7750 +Mr. Lorry was so taken aback, that he looked quite stupidly at Mr. 
  2.7751 +Stryver shouldering him towards the door, with an appearance of 
  2.7752 +showering generosity, forbearance, and goodwill, on his erring head. 
  2.7753 +"Make the best of it, my dear sir," said Stryver; "say no more about it; 
  2.7754 +thank you again for allowing me to sound you; good night!" 
  2.7755 +
  2.7756 +Mr. Lorry was out in the night, before he knew where he was. Mr. 
  2.7757 +Stryver was lying back on his sofa, winking at his ceiling. 
  2.7758 +
  2.7759 +
  2.7760 +
  2.7761 +153 
  2.7762 +
  2.7763 +
  2.7764 +
  2.7765 +Chapter 
  2.7766 +
  2.7767 +
  2.7768 +
  2.7769 +13 
  2.7770 +
  2.7771 +
  2.7772 +
  2.7773 +The Fellow of No Delicacy 
  2.7774 +
  2.7775 +If Sydney Carton ever shone anywhere, he certainly never shone in the 
  2.7776 +house of Doctor Manette. He had been there often, during a whole year, 
  2.7777 +and had always been the same moody and morose lounger there. When 
  2.7778 +he cared to talk, he talked well; but, the cloud of caring for nothing, 
  2.7779 +which overshadowed him with such a fatal darkness, was very rarely 
  2.7780 +pierced by the light within him. 
  2.7781 +
  2.7782 +And yet he did care something for the streets that environed that 
  2.7783 +house, and for the senseless stones that made their pavements. Many a 
  2.7784 +night he vaguely and unhappily wandered there, when wine had 
  2.7785 +brought no transitory gladness to him; many a dreary daybreak revealed 
  2.7786 +his solitary figure lingering there, and still lingering there when the first 
  2.7787 +beams of the sun brought into strong relief, removed beauties of archi- 
  2.7788 +tecture in spires of churches and lofty buildings, as perhaps the quiet 
  2.7789 +time brought some sense of better things, else forgotten and unattain- 
  2.7790 +able, into his mind. Of late, the neglected bed in the Temple Court had 
  2.7791 +known him more scantily than ever; and often when he had thrown him- 
  2.7792 +self upon it no longer than a few minutes, he had got up again, and 
  2.7793 +haunted that neighbourhood. 
  2.7794 +
  2.7795 +On a day in August, when Mr. Stryver (after notifying to his jackal that 
  2.7796 +"he had thought better of that marrying matter") had carried his delicacy 
  2.7797 +into Devonshire, and when the sight and scent of flowers in the City 
  2.7798 +streets had some waifs of goodness in them for the worst, of health for 
  2.7799 +the sickliest, and of youth for the oldest, Sydney's feet still trod those 
  2.7800 +stones. From being irresolute and purposeless, his feet became animated 
  2.7801 +by an intention, and, in the working out of that intention, they took him 
  2.7802 +to the Doctor's door. 
  2.7803 +
  2.7804 +He was shown up-stairs, and found Lucie at her work, alone. She had 
  2.7805 +never been quite at her ease with him, and received him with some little 
  2.7806 +embarrassment as he seated himself near her table. But, looking up at his 
  2.7807 +
  2.7808 +
  2.7809 +
  2.7810 +154 
  2.7811 +
  2.7812 +
  2.7813 +
  2.7814 +face in the interchange of the first few common-places, she observed a 
  2.7815 +change in it. 
  2.7816 +
  2.7817 +"I fear you are not well, Mr. Carton!" 
  2.7818 +
  2.7819 +"No. But the life I lead, Miss Manette, is not conducive to health. What 
  2.7820 +is to be expected of, or by, such profligates?" 
  2.7821 +
  2.7822 +"Is it not - forgive me; I have begun the question on my lips - a pity to 
  2.7823 +live no better life?" 
  2.7824 +
  2.7825 +"God knows it is a shame!" 
  2.7826 +
  2.7827 +"Then why not change it?" 
  2.7828 +
  2.7829 +Looking gently at him again, she was surprised and saddened to see 
  2.7830 +that there were tears in his eyes. There were tears in his voice too, as he 
  2.7831 +answered: 
  2.7832 +
  2.7833 +"It is too late for that. I shall never be better than I am. I shall sink 
  2.7834 +lower, and be worse." 
  2.7835 +
  2.7836 +He leaned an elbow on her table, and covered his eyes with his hand. 
  2.7837 +The table trembled in the silence that followed. 
  2.7838 +
  2.7839 +She had never seen him softened, and was much distressed. He knew 
  2.7840 +her to be so, without looking at her, and said: 
  2.7841 +
  2.7842 +"Pray forgive me, Miss Manette. I break down before the knowledge 
  2.7843 +of what I want to say to you. Will you hear me?" 
  2.7844 +
  2.7845 +"If it will do you any good, Mr. Carton, if it would make you happier, 
  2.7846 +it would make me very glad!" 
  2.7847 +
  2.7848 +"God bless you for your sweet compassion!" 
  2.7849 +
  2.7850 +He unshaded his face after a little while, and spoke steadily. 
  2.7851 +
  2.7852 +"Don't be afraid to hear me. Don't shrink from anything I say. I am 
  2.7853 +like one who died young. All my life might have been." 
  2.7854 +
  2.7855 +"No, Mr. Carton. I am sure that the best part of it might still be; I am 
  2.7856 +sure that you might be much, much worthier of yourself." 
  2.7857 +
  2.7858 +"Say of you, Miss Manette, and although I know better - although in 
  2.7859 +the mystery of my own wretched heart I know better - I shall never for- 
  2.7860 +get it!" 
  2.7861 +
  2.7862 +She was pale and trembling. He came to her relief with a fixed despair 
  2.7863 +of himself which made the interview unlike any other that could have 
  2.7864 +been holden. 
  2.7865 +
  2.7866 +"If it had been possible, Miss Manette, that you could have returned 
  2.7867 +the love of the man you see before yourself - flung away, wasted, 
  2.7868 +
  2.7869 +
  2.7870 +
  2.7871 +155 
  2.7872 +
  2.7873 +
  2.7874 +
  2.7875 +drunken, poor creature of misuse as you know him to be - he would 
  2.7876 +have been conscious this day and hour, in spite of his happiness, that he 
  2.7877 +would bring you to misery, bring you to sorrow and repentance, blight 
  2.7878 +you, disgrace you, pull you down with him. I know very well that you 
  2.7879 +can have no tenderness for me; I ask for none; I am even thankful that it 
  2.7880 +cannot be." 
  2.7881 +
  2.7882 +"Without it, can I not save you, Mr. Carton? Can I not recall you - for- 
  2.7883 +give me again! - to a better course? Can I in no way repay your confid- 
  2.7884 +ence? I know this is a confidence," she modestly said, after a little hesita- 
  2.7885 +tion, and in earnest tears, "I know you would say this to no one else. Can 
  2.7886 +I turn it to no good account for yourself, Mr. Carton?" 
  2.7887 +
  2.7888 +He shook his head. 
  2.7889 +
  2.7890 +"To none. No, Miss Manette, to none. If you will hear me through a 
  2.7891 +very little more, all you can ever do for me is done. I wish you to know 
  2.7892 +that you have been the last dream of my soul. In my degradation I have 
  2.7893 +not been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of 
  2.7894 +this home made such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I 
  2.7895 +thought had died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a 
  2.7896 +remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard 
  2.7897 +whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were si- 
  2.7898 +lent for ever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning 
  2.7899 +anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned 
  2.7900 +fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper 
  2.7901 +where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it." 
  2.7902 +
  2.7903 +"Will nothing of it remain? O Mr. Carton, think again! Try again!" 
  2.7904 +
  2.7905 +"No, Miss Manette; all through it, I have known myself to be quite un- 
  2.7906 +deserving. And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, 
  2.7907 +to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap 
  2.7908 +of ashes that I am, into fire - a fire, however, inseparable in its nature 
  2.7909 +from myself, quickening nothing, lighting nothing, doing no service, idly 
  2.7910 +burning away." 
  2.7911 +
  2.7912 +"Since it is my misfortune, Mr. Carton, to have made you more un- 
  2.7913 +happy than you were before you knew me - " 
  2.7914 +
  2.7915 +"Don't say that, Miss Manette, for you would have reclaimed me, if 
  2.7916 +anything could. You will not be the cause of my becoming worse." 
  2.7917 +
  2.7918 +"Since the state of your mind that you describe, is, at all events, attrib- 
  2.7919 +utable to some influence of mine - this is what I mean, if I can make it 
  2.7920 +
  2.7921 +
  2.7922 +
  2.7923 +156 
  2.7924 +
  2.7925 +
  2.7926 +
  2.7927 +plain - can I use no influence to serve you? Have I no power for good, 
  2.7928 +with you, at all?" 
  2.7929 +
  2.7930 +"The utmost good that I am capable of now, Miss Manette, I have 
  2.7931 +come here to realise. Let me carry through the rest of my misdirected life, 
  2.7932 +the remembrance that I opened my heart to you, last of all the world; and 
  2.7933 +that there was something left in me at this time which you could deplore 
  2.7934 +and pity." 
  2.7935 +
  2.7936 +"Which I entreated you to believe, again and again, most fervently, 
  2.7937 +with all my heart, was capable of better things, Mr. Carton!" 
  2.7938 +
  2.7939 +"Entreat me to believe it no more, Miss Manette. I have proved myself, 
  2.7940 +and I know better. I distress you; I draw fast to an end. Will you let me 
  2.7941 +believe, when I recall this day, that the last confidence of my life was re- 
  2.7942 +posed in your pure and innocent breast, and that it lies there alone, and 
  2.7943 +will be shared by no one?" 
  2.7944 +
  2.7945 +"If that will be a consolation to you, yes." 
  2.7946 +
  2.7947 +"Not even by the dearest one ever to be known to you?" 
  2.7948 +
  2.7949 +"Mr. Carton," she answered, after an agitated pause, "the secret is 
  2.7950 +yours, not mine; and I promise to respect it." 
  2.7951 +
  2.7952 +"Thank you. And again, God bless you." 
  2.7953 +
  2.7954 +He put her hand to his lips, and moved towards the door. 
  2.7955 +
  2.7956 +"Be under no apprehension, Miss Manette, of my ever resuming this 
  2.7957 +conversation by so much as a passing word. I will never refer to it again. 
  2.7958 +If I were dead, that could not be surer than it is henceforth. In the hour of 
  2.7959 +my death, I shall hold sacred the one good remembrance - and shall 
  2.7960 +thank and bless you for it - that my last avowal of myself was made to 
  2.7961 +you, and that my name, and faults, and miseries were gently carried in 
  2.7962 +your heart. May it otherwise be light and happy!" 
  2.7963 +
  2.7964 +He was so unlike what he had ever shown himself to be, and it was so 
  2.7965 +sad to think how much he had thrown away, and how much he every 
  2.7966 +day kept down and perverted, that Lucie Manette wept mournfully for 
  2.7967 +him as he stood looking back at her. 
  2.7968 +
  2.7969 +"Be comforted!" he said, "I am not worth such feeling, Miss Manette. 
  2.7970 +An hour or two hence, and the low companions and low habits that I 
  2.7971 +scorn but yield to, will render me less worth such tears as those, than any 
  2.7972 +wretch who creeps along the streets. Be comforted! But, within myself, I 
  2.7973 +shall always be, towards you, what I am now, though outwardly I shall 
  2.7974 +be what you have heretofore seen me. The last supplication but one I 
  2.7975 +make to you, is, that you will believe this of me." 
  2.7976 +
  2.7977 +
  2.7978 +
  2.7979 +157 
  2.7980 +
  2.7981 +
  2.7982 +
  2.7983 +"I will, Mr. Carton." 
  2.7984 +
  2.7985 +"My last supplication of all, is this; and with it, I will relieve you of a 
  2.7986 +visitor with whom I well know you have nothing in unison, and between 
  2.7987 +whom and you there is an impassable space. It is useless to say it, I 
  2.7988 +know, but it rises out of my soul. For you, and for any dear to you, I 
  2.7989 +would do anything. If my career were of that better kind that there was 
  2.7990 +any opportunity or capacity of sacrifice in it, I would embrace any sacri- 
  2.7991 +fice for you and for those dear to you. Try to hold me in your mind, at 
  2.7992 +some quiet times, as ardent and sincere in this one thing. The time will 
  2.7993 +come, the time will not be long in coming, when new ties will be formed 
  2.7994 +about you - ties that will bind you yet more tenderly and strongly to the 
  2.7995 +home you so adorn - the dearest ties that will ever grace and gladden 
  2.7996 +you. O Miss Manette, when the little picture of a happy father's face 
  2.7997 +looks up in yours, when you see your own bright beauty springing up 
  2.7998 +anew at your feet, think now and then that there is a man who would 
  2.7999 +give his life, to keep a life you love beside you!" 
  2.8000 +
  2.8001 +He said, "Farewell!" said a last "God bless you!" and left her. 
  2.8002 +
  2.8003 +
  2.8004 +
  2.8005 +158 
  2.8006 +
  2.8007 +
  2.8008 +
  2.8009 +Chapter 
  2.8010 +
  2.8011 +
  2.8012 +
  2.8013 +14 
  2.8014 +
  2.8015 +
  2.8016 +
  2.8017 +The Honest Tradesman 
  2.8018 +
  2.8019 +To the eyes of Mr. Jeremiah Cruncher, sitting on his stool in Fleet- 
  2.8020 +street with his grisly urchin beside him, a vast number and variety of ob- 
  2.8021 +jects in movement were every day presented. Who could sit upon any- 
  2.8022 +thing in Fleet-street during the busy hours of the day, and not be dazed 
  2.8023 +and deafened by two immense processions, one ever tending westward 
  2.8024 +with the sun, the other ever tending eastward from the sun, both ever 
  2.8025 +tending to the plains beyond the range of red and purple where the sun 
  2.8026 +goes down! 
  2.8027 +
  2.8028 +With his straw in his mouth, Mr. Cruncher sat watching the two 
  2.8029 +streams, like the heathen rustic who has for several centuries been on 
  2.8030 +duty watching one stream - saving that Jerry had no expectation of their 
  2.8031 +ever running dry. Nor would it have been an expectation of a hopeful 
  2.8032 +kind, since a small part of his income was derived from the pilotage of 
  2.8033 +timid women (mostly of a full habit and past the middle term of life) 
  2.8034 +from Tellson's side of the tides to the opposite shore. Brief as such com- 
  2.8035 +panionship was in every separate instance, Mr. Cruncher never failed to 
  2.8036 +become so interested in the lady as to express a strong desire to have the 
  2.8037 +honour of drinking her very good health. And it was from the gifts be- 
  2.8038 +stowed upon him towards the execution of this benevolent purpose, that 
  2.8039 +he recruited his finances, as just now observed. 
  2.8040 +
  2.8041 +Time was, when a poet sat upon a stool in a public place, and mused 
  2.8042 +in the sight of men. Mr. Cruncher, sitting on a stool in a public place, but 
  2.8043 +not being a poet, mused as little as possible, and looked about him. 
  2.8044 +
  2.8045 +It fell out that he was thus engaged in a season when crowds were 
  2.8046 +few, and belated women few, and when his affairs in general were so un- 
  2.8047 +prosperous as to awaken a strong suspicion in his breast that Mrs. 
  2.8048 +Cruncher must have been "flopping" in some pointed manner, when an 
  2.8049 +unusual concourse pouring down Fleet-street westward, attracted his at- 
  2.8050 +tention. Looking that way, Mr. Cruncher made out that some kind of 
  2.8051 +
  2.8052 +
  2.8053 +
  2.8054 +159 
  2.8055 +
  2.8056 +
  2.8057 +
  2.8058 +funeral was coming along, and that there was popular objection to this 
  2.8059 +funeral, which engendered uproar. 
  2.8060 +
  2.8061 +"Young Jerry," said Mr. Cruncher, turning to his offspring, "it's a 
  2.8062 +bury in?." 
  2.8063 +
  2.8064 +"Hooroar, father!" cried Young Jerry. 
  2.8065 +
  2.8066 +The young gentleman uttered this exultant sound with mysterious sig- 
  2.8067 +nificance. The elder gentleman took the cry so ill, that he watched his op- 
  2.8068 +portunity, and smote the young gentleman on the ear. 
  2.8069 +
  2.8070 +"What d'ye mean? What are you hooroaring at? What do you want to 
  2.8071 +conwey to your own father, you young Rip? This boy is a getting too 
  2.8072 +many for me!" said Mr. Cruncher, surveying him. "Him and his hoo- 
  2.8073 +roars! Don't let me hear no more of you, or you shall feel some more of 
  2.8074 +me. D'ye hear?" 
  2.8075 +
  2.8076 +"I warn't doing no harm," Young Jerry protested, rubbing his cheek. 
  2.8077 +
  2.8078 +"Drop it then," said Mr. Cruncher; "I won't have none of your no 
  2.8079 +harms. Get a top of that there seat, and look at the crowd." 
  2.8080 +
  2.8081 +His son obeyed, and the crowd approached; they were bawling and 
  2.8082 +hissing round a dingy hearse and dingy mourning coach, in which 
  2.8083 +mourning coach there was only one mourner, dressed in the dingy trap- 
  2.8084 +pings that were considered essential to the dignity of the position. The 
  2.8085 +position appeared by no means to please him, however, with an increas- 
  2.8086 +ing rabble surrounding the coach, deriding him, making grimaces at 
  2.8087 +him, and incessantly groaning and calling out: "Yah! Spies! Tst! Yaha! 
  2.8088 +Spies!" with many compliments too numerous and forcible to repeat. 
  2.8089 +
  2.8090 +Funerals had at all times a remarkable attraction for Mr. Cruncher; he 
  2.8091 +always pricked up his senses, and became excited, when a funeral 
  2.8092 +passed Tellson's. Naturally, therefore, a funeral with this uncommon at- 
  2.8093 +tendance excited him greatly, and he asked of the first man who ran 
  2.8094 +against him: 
  2.8095 +
  2.8096 +"What is it, brother? What's it about?" 
  2.8097 +
  2.8098 +"I don't know," said the man. "Spies! Yaha! Tst! Spies!" 
  2.8099 +
  2.8100 +He asked another man. "Who is it?" 
  2.8101 +
  2.8102 +"I don't know," returned the man, clapping his hands to his mouth 
  2.8103 +nevertheless, and vociferating in a surprising heat and with the greatest 
  2.8104 +ardour, "Spies! Yaha! Tst, tst! Spi - ies!" 
  2.8105 +
  2.8106 +
  2.8107 +
  2.8108 +160 
  2.8109 +
  2.8110 +
  2.8111 +
  2.8112 +At length, a person better informed on the merits of the case, tumbled 
  2.8113 +against him, and from this person he learned that the funeral was the fu- 
  2.8114 +neral of one Roger Cly. 
  2.8115 +
  2.8116 +"Was He a spy?" asked Mr. Cruncher. 
  2.8117 +
  2.8118 +"Old Bailey spy," returned his informant. "Yaha! Tst! Yah! Old Bailey 
  2.8119 +Spi - i - ies!" 
  2.8120 +
  2.8121 +"Why, to be sure!" exclaimed Jerry, recalling the Trial at which he had 
  2.8122 +assisted. "I've seen him. Dead, is he?" 
  2.8123 +
  2.8124 +"Dead as mutton," returned the other, "and can't be too dead. Have 
  2.8125 +'em out, there! Spies! Pull 'em out, there! Spies!" 
  2.8126 +
  2.8127 +The idea was so acceptable in the prevalent absence of any idea, that 
  2.8128 +the crowd caught it up with eagerness, and loudly repeating the sugges- 
  2.8129 +tion to have 'em out, and to pull 'em out, mobbed the two vehicles so 
  2.8130 +closely that they came to a stop. On the crowd's opening the coach doors, 
  2.8131 +the one mourner scuffled out of himself and was in their hands for a mo- 
  2.8132 +ment; but he was so alert, and made such good use of his time, that in 
  2.8133 +another moment he was scouring away up a bye-street, after shedding 
  2.8134 +his cloak, hat, long hatband, white pocket-handkerchief, and other sym- 
  2.8135 +bolical tears. 
  2.8136 +
  2.8137 +These, the people tore to pieces and scattered far and wide with great 
  2.8138 +enjoyment, while the tradesmen hurriedly shut up their shops; for a 
  2.8139 +crowd in those times stopped at nothing, and was a monster much 
  2.8140 +dreaded. They had already got the length of opening the hearse to take 
  2.8141 +the coffin out, when some brighter genius proposed instead, its being es- 
  2.8142 +corted to its destination amidst general rejoicing. Practical suggestions 
  2.8143 +being much needed, this suggestion, too, was received with acclamation, 
  2.8144 +and the coach was immediately filled with eight inside and a dozen out, 
  2.8145 +while as many people got on the roof of the hearse as could by any exer- 
  2.8146 +cise of ingenuity stick upon it. Among the first of these volunteers was 
  2.8147 +Jerry Cruncher himself, who modestly concealed his spiky head from the 
  2.8148 +observation of Tellson's, in the further corner of the mourning coach. 
  2.8149 +
  2.8150 +The officiating undertakers made some protest against these changes 
  2.8151 +in the ceremonies; but, the river being alarmingly near, and several 
  2.8152 +voices remarking on the efficacy of cold immersion in bringing refractory 
  2.8153 +members of the profession to reason, the protest was faint and brief. The 
  2.8154 +remodelled procession started, with a chimney-sweep driving the 
  2.8155 +hearse - advised by the regular driver, who was perched beside him, un- 
  2.8156 +der close inspection, for the purpose - and with a pieman, also attended 
  2.8157 +by his cabinet minister, driving the mourning coach. A bear-leader, a 
  2.8158 +
  2.8159 +
  2.8160 +
  2.8161 +161 
  2.8162 +
  2.8163 +
  2.8164 +
  2.8165 +popular street character of the time, was impressed as an additional or- 
  2.8166 +nament, before the cavalcade had gone far down the Strand; and his 
  2.8167 +bear, who was black and very mangy, gave quite an Undertaking air to 
  2.8168 +that part of the procession in which he walked. 
  2.8169 +
  2.8170 +Thus, with beer-drinking, pipe-smoking, song-roaring, and infinite ca- 
  2.8171 +ricaturing of woe, the disorderly procession went its way, recruiting at 
  2.8172 +every step, and all the shops shutting up before it. Its destination was the 
  2.8173 +old church of Saint Pancras, far off in the fields. It got there in course of 
  2.8174 +time; insisted on pouring into the burial-ground; finally, accomplished 
  2.8175 +the interment of the deceased Roger Cly in its own way, and highly to its 
  2.8176 +own satisfaction. 
  2.8177 +
  2.8178 +The dead man disposed of, and the crowd being under the necessity of 
  2.8179 +providing some other entertainment for itself, another brighter genius 
  2.8180 +(or perhaps the same) conceived the humour of impeaching casual 
  2.8181 +passers-by, as Old Bailey spies, and wreaking vengeance on them. Chase 
  2.8182 +was given to some scores of inoffensive persons who had never been 
  2.8183 +near the Old Bailey in their lives, in the realisation of this fancy, and they 
  2.8184 +were roughly hustled and maltreated. The transition to the sport of 
  2.8185 +window-breaking, and thence to the plundering of public-houses, was 
  2.8186 +easy and natural. At last, after several hours, when sundry summer- 
  2.8187 +houses had been pulled down, and some area-railings had been torn up, 
  2.8188 +to arm the more belligerent spirits, a rumour got about that the Guards 
  2.8189 +were coming. Before this rumour, the crowd gradually melted away, and 
  2.8190 +perhaps the Guards came, and perhaps they never came, and this was 
  2.8191 +the usual progress of a mob. 
  2.8192 +
  2.8193 +Mr. Cruncher did not assist at the closing sports, but had remained be- 
  2.8194 +hind in the churchyard, to confer and condole with the undertakers. The 
  2.8195 +place had a soothing influence on him. He procured a pipe from a 
  2.8196 +neighbouring public-house, and smoked it, looking in at the railings and 
  2.8197 +maturely considering the spot. 
  2.8198 +
  2.8199 +"Jerry," said Mr. Cruncher, apostrophising himself in his usual way, 
  2.8200 +"you see that there Cly that day, and you see with your own eyes that he 
  2.8201 +was a young 'un and a straight made r un." 
  2.8202 +
  2.8203 +Having smoked his pipe out, and ruminated a little longer, he turned 
  2.8204 +himself about, that he might appear, before the hour of closing, on his 
  2.8205 +station at Tellson's. Whether his meditations on mortality had touched 
  2.8206 +his liver, or whether his general health had been previously at all amiss, 
  2.8207 +or whether he desired to show a little attention to an eminent man, is not 
  2.8208 +
  2.8209 +
  2.8210 +
  2.8211 +162 
  2.8212 +
  2.8213 +
  2.8214 +
  2.8215 +so much to the purpose, as that he made a short call upon his medical 
  2.8216 +adviser - a distinguished surgeon - on his way back. 
  2.8217 +
  2.8218 +Young Jerry relieved his father with dutiful interest, and reported No 
  2.8219 +job in his absence. The bank closed, the ancient clerks came out, the usual 
  2.8220 +watch was set, and Mr. Cruncher and his son went home to tea. 
  2.8221 +
  2.8222 +"Now, I tell you where it is!" said Mr. Cruncher to his wife, on enter- 
  2.8223 +ing. "If, as a honest tradesman, my wenturs goes wrong to-night, I shall 
  2.8224 +make sure that you've been praying again me, and I shall work you for it 
  2.8225 +just the same as if I seen you do it." 
  2.8226 +
  2.8227 +The dejected Mrs. Cruncher shook her head. 
  2.8228 +
  2.8229 +"Why, you're at it afore my face!" said Mr. Cruncher, with signs of 
  2.8230 +angry apprehension. 
  2.8231 +
  2.8232 +"I am saying nothing." 
  2.8233 +
  2.8234 +"Well, then; don't meditate nothing. You might as well flop as medit- 
  2.8235 +ate. You may as well go again me one way as another. Drop it 
  2.8236 +altogether." 
  2.8237 +
  2.8238 +"Yes, Jerry." 
  2.8239 +
  2.8240 +"Yes, Jerry," repeated Mr. Cruncher sitting down to tea. "Ah! It is yes, 
  2.8241 +Jerry. That's about it. You may say yes, Jerry." 
  2.8242 +
  2.8243 +Mr. Cruncher had no particular meaning in these sulky corrobora- 
  2.8244 +tions, but made use of them, as people not unfrequently do, to express 
  2.8245 +general ironical dissatisfaction. 
  2.8246 +
  2.8247 +"You and your yes, Jerry," said Mr. Cruncher, taking a bite out of his 
  2.8248 +bread-and-butter, and seeming to help it down with a large invisible 
  2.8249 +oyster out of his saucer. "Ah! I think so. I believe you." 
  2.8250 +
  2.8251 +"You are going out to-night?" asked his decent wife, when he took an- 
  2.8252 +other bite. 
  2.8253 +
  2.8254 +"Yes, I am." 
  2.8255 +
  2.8256 +"May I go with you, father?" asked his son, briskly. 
  2.8257 +
  2.8258 +"No, you mayn't. I'm a going - as your mother knows - a fishing. 
  2.8259 +That's where I'm going to. Going a fishing." 
  2.8260 +
  2.8261 +"Your fishing-rod gets rayther rusty; don't it, father?" 
  2.8262 +
  2.8263 +"Never you mind." 
  2.8264 +
  2.8265 +"Shall you bring any fish home, father?" 
  2.8266 +
  2.8267 +
  2.8268 +
  2.8269 +163 
  2.8270 +
  2.8271 +
  2.8272 +
  2.8273 +"If I don't, you'll have short commons, to-morrow," returned that gen- 
  2.8274 +tleman, shaking his head; "that's questions enough for you; I ain't a go- 
  2.8275 +ing out, till you've been long abed." 
  2.8276 +
  2.8277 +He devoted himself during the remainder of the evening to keeping a 
  2.8278 +most vigilant watch on Mrs. Cruncher, and sullenly holding her in con- 
  2.8279 +versation that she might be prevented from meditating any petitions to 
  2.8280 +his disadvantage. With this view, he urged his son to hold her in conver- 
  2.8281 +sation also, and led the unfortunate woman a hard life by dwelling on 
  2.8282 +any causes of complaint he could bring against her, rather than he would 
  2.8283 +leave her for a moment to her own reflexions. The devoutest person 
  2.8284 +could have rendered no greater homage to the efficacy of an honest pray- 
  2.8285 +er than he did in this distrust of his wife. It was as if a professed unbe- 
  2.8286 +liever in ghosts should be frightened by a ghost story. 
  2.8287 +
  2.8288 +"And mind you!" said Mr. Cruncher. "No games to-morrow! If I, as a 
  2.8289 +honest tradesman, succeed in providing a jinte of meat or two, none of 
  2.8290 +your not touching of it, and sticking to bread. If I, as a honest tradesman, 
  2.8291 +am able to provide a little beer, none of your declaring on water. When 
  2.8292 +you go to Rome, do as Rome does. Rome will be a ugly customer to you, 
  2.8293 +if you don't. I'm your Rome, you know." 
  2.8294 +
  2.8295 +Then he began grumbling again: 
  2.8296 +
  2.8297 +"With your flying into the face of your own wittles and drink! I don't 
  2.8298 +know how scarce you mayn't make the wittles and drink here, by your 
  2.8299 +flopping tricks and your unfeeling conduct. Look at your boy: he is 
  2.8300 +your'n, ain't he? He's as thin as a lath. Do you call yourself a mother, and 
  2.8301 +not know that a mother's first duty is to blow her boy out?" 
  2.8302 +
  2.8303 +This touched Young Jerry on a tender place; who adjured his mother 
  2.8304 +to perform her first duty, and, whatever else she did or neglected, above 
  2.8305 +all things to lay especial stress on the discharge of that maternal function 
  2.8306 +so affectingly and delicately indicated by his other parent. 
  2.8307 +
  2.8308 +Thus the evening wore away with the Cruncher family, until Young 
  2.8309 +Jerry was ordered to bed, and his mother, laid under similar injunctions, 
  2.8310 +obeyed them. Mr. Cruncher beguiled the earlier watches of the night 
  2.8311 +with solitary pipes, and did not start upon his excursion until nearly one 
  2.8312 +o'clock. Towards that small and ghostly hour, he rose up from his chair, 
  2.8313 +took a key out of his pocket, opened a locked cupboard, and brought 
  2.8314 +forth a sack, a crowbar of convenient size, a rope and chain, and other 
  2.8315 +fishing tackle of that nature. Disposing these articles about him in skilful 
  2.8316 +manner, he bestowed a parting defiance on Mrs. Cruncher, extinguished 
  2.8317 +the light, and went out. 
  2.8318 +
  2.8319 +
  2.8320 +
  2.8321 +164 
  2.8322 +
  2.8323 +
  2.8324 +
  2.8325 +Young Jerry, who had only made a feint of undressing when he went 
  2.8326 +to bed, was not long after his father. Under cover of the darkness he fol- 
  2.8327 +lowed out of the room, followed down the stairs, followed down the 
  2.8328 +court, followed out into the streets. He was in no uneasiness concerning 
  2.8329 +his getting into the house again, for it was full of lodgers, and the door 
  2.8330 +stood ajar all night. 
  2.8331 +
  2.8332 +Impelled by a laudable ambition to study the art and mystery of his 
  2.8333 +father's honest calling, Young Jerry, keeping as close to house fronts, 
  2.8334 +walls, and doorways, as his eyes were close to one another, held his hon- 
  2.8335 +oured parent in view. The honoured parent steering Northward, had not 
  2.8336 +gone far, when he was joined by another disciple of Izaak Walton, and 
  2.8337 +the two trudged on together. 
  2.8338 +
  2.8339 +Within half an hour from the first starting, they were beyond the wink- 
  2.8340 +ing lamps, and the more than winking watchmen, and were out upon a 
  2.8341 +lonely road. Another fisherman was picked up here - and that so si- 
  2.8342 +lently, that if Young Jerry had been superstitious, he might have sup- 
  2.8343 +posed the second follower of the gentle craft to have, all of a sudden, 
  2.8344 +split himself into two. 
  2.8345 +
  2.8346 +The three went on, and Young Jerry went on, until the three stopped 
  2.8347 +under a bank overhanging the road. Upon the top of the bank was a low 
  2.8348 +brick wall, surmounted by an iron railing. In the shadow of bank and 
  2.8349 +wall the three turned out of the road, and up a blind lane, of which the 
  2.8350 +wall - there, risen to some eight or ten feet high - formed one side. 
  2.8351 +Crouching down in a corner, peeping up the lane, the next object that 
  2.8352 +Young Jerry saw, was the form of his honoured parent, pretty well 
  2.8353 +defined against a watery and clouded moon, nimbly scaling an iron gate. 
  2.8354 +He was soon over, and then the second fisherman got over, and then the 
  2.8355 +third. They all dropped softly on the ground within the gate, and lay 
  2.8356 +there a little - listening perhaps. Then, they moved away on their hands 
  2.8357 +and knees. 
  2.8358 +
  2.8359 +It was now Young Jerry's turn to approach the gate: which he did, 
  2.8360 +holding his breath. Crouching down again in a corner there, and looking 
  2.8361 +in, he made out the three fishermen creeping through some rank grass! 
  2.8362 +and all the gravestones in the churchyard - it was a large churchyard 
  2.8363 +that they were in - looking on like ghosts in white, while the church 
  2.8364 +tower itself looked on like the ghost of a monstrous giant. They did not 
  2.8365 +creep far, before they stopped and stood upright. And then they began to 
  2.8366 +fish. 
  2.8367 +
  2.8368 +
  2.8369 +
  2.8370 +165 
  2.8371 +
  2.8372 +
  2.8373 +
  2.8374 +They fished with a spade, at first. Presently the honoured parent ap- 
  2.8375 +peared to be adjusting some instrument like a great corkscrew. Whatever 
  2.8376 +tools they worked with, they worked hard, until the awful striking of the 
  2.8377 +church clock so terrified Young Jerry, that he made off, with his hair as 
  2.8378 +stiff as his father's. 
  2.8379 +
  2.8380 +But, his long-cherished desire to know more about these matters, not 
  2.8381 +only stopped him in his running away, but lured him back again. They 
  2.8382 +were still fishing perseveringly, when he peeped in at the gate for the 
  2.8383 +second time; but, now they seemed to have got a bite. There was a screw- 
  2.8384 +ing and complaining sound down below, and their bent figures were 
  2.8385 +strained, as if by a weight. By slow degrees the weight broke away the 
  2.8386 +earth upon it, and came to the surface. Young Jerry very well knew what 
  2.8387 +it would be; but, when he saw it, and saw his honoured parent about to 
  2.8388 +wrench it open, he was so frightened, being new to the sight, that he 
  2.8389 +made off again, and never stopped until he had run a mile or more. 
  2.8390 +
  2.8391 +He would not have stopped then, for anything less necessary than 
  2.8392 +breath, it being a spectral sort of race that he ran, and one highly desir- 
  2.8393 +able to get to the end of. He had a strong idea that the coffin he had seen 
  2.8394 +was running after him; and, pictured as hopping on behind him, bolt up- 
  2.8395 +right, upon its narrow end, always on the point of overtaking him and 
  2.8396 +hopping on at his side - perhaps taking his arm - it was a pursuer to 
  2.8397 +shun. It was an inconsistent and ubiquitous fiend too, for, while it was 
  2.8398 +making the whole night behind him dreadful, he darted out into the 
  2.8399 +roadway to avoid dark alleys, fearful of its coming hopping out of them 
  2.8400 +like a dropsical boy's-Kite without tail and wings. It hid in doorways too, 
  2.8401 +rubbing its horrible shoulders against doors, and drawing them up to its 
  2.8402 +ears, as if it were laughing. It got into shadows on the road, and lay cun- 
  2.8403 +ningly on its back to trip him up. All this time it was incessantly hopping 
  2.8404 +on behind and gaining on him, so that when the boy got to his own door 
  2.8405 +he had reason for being half dead. And even then it would not leave him, 
  2.8406 +but followed him upstairs with a bump on every stair, scrambled into 
  2.8407 +bed with him, and bumped down, dead and heavy, on his breast when 
  2.8408 +he fell asleep. 
  2.8409 +
  2.8410 +From his oppressed slumber, Young Jerry in his closet was awakened 
  2.8411 +after daybreak and before sunrise, by the presence of his father in the 
  2.8412 +family room. Something had gone wrong with him; at least, so Young 
  2.8413 +Jerry inferred, from the circumstance of his holding Mrs. Cruncher by 
  2.8414 +the ears, and knocking the back of her head against the head-board of the 
  2.8415 +bed. 
  2.8416 +
  2.8417 +
  2.8418 +
  2.8419 +166 
  2.8420 +
  2.8421 +
  2.8422 +
  2.8423 +"I told you I would," said Mr. Cruncher, "and I did." 
  2.8424 +
  2.8425 +"Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!" his wife implored. 
  2.8426 +
  2.8427 +"You oppose yourself to the profit of the business," said Jerry, "and 
  2.8428 +me and my partners suffer. You was to honour and obey; why the devil 
  2.8429 +don't you?" 
  2.8430 +
  2.8431 +"I try to be a good wife, Jerry," the poor woman protested, with tears. 
  2.8432 +
  2.8433 +"Is it being a good wife to oppose your husband's business? Is it hon- 
  2.8434 +ouring your husband to dishonour his business? Is it obeying your hus- 
  2.8435 +band to disobey him on the wital subject of his business?" 
  2.8436 +
  2.8437 +"You hadn't taken to the dreadful business then, Jerry." 
  2.8438 +
  2.8439 +"It's enough for you," retorted Mr. Cruncher, "to be the wife of a hon- 
  2.8440 +est tradesman, and not to occupy your female mind with calculations 
  2.8441 +when he took to his trade or when he didn't. A honouring and obeying 
  2.8442 +wife would let his trade alone altogether. Call yourself a religious wo- 
  2.8443 +man? If you're a religious woman, give me a irreligious one! You have 
  2.8444 +no more nat'ral sense of duty than the bed of this here Thames river has 
  2.8445 +of a pile, and similarly it must be knocked into you." 
  2.8446 +
  2.8447 +The altercation was conducted in a low tone of voice, and terminated 
  2.8448 +in the honest tradesman's kicking off his clay-soiled boots, and lying 
  2.8449 +down at his length on the floor. After taking a timid peep at him lying on 
  2.8450 +his back, with his rusty hands under his head for a pillow, his son lay 
  2.8451 +down too, and fell asleep again. 
  2.8452 +
  2.8453 +There was no fish for breakfast, and not much of anything else. Mr. 
  2.8454 +Cruncher was out of spirits, and out of temper, and kept an iron pot-lid 
  2.8455 +by him as a projectile for the correction of Mrs. Cruncher, in case he 
  2.8456 +should observe any symptoms of her saying Grace. He was brushed and 
  2.8457 +washed at the usual hour, and set off with his son to pursue his ostens- 
  2.8458 +ible calling. 
  2.8459 +
  2.8460 +Young Jerry, walking with the stool under his arm at his father's side 
  2.8461 +along sunny and crowded Fleet-street, was a very different Young Jerry 
  2.8462 +from him of the previous night, running home through darkness and 
  2.8463 +solitude from his grim pursuer. His cunning was fresh with the day, and 
  2.8464 +his qualms were gone with the night - in which particulars it is not im- 
  2.8465 +probable that he had compeers in Fleet-street and the City of London, 
  2.8466 +that fine morning. 
  2.8467 +
  2.8468 +"Father," said Young Jerry, as they walked along: taking care to keep 
  2.8469 +at arm's length and to have the stool well between them: "what's a 
  2.8470 +Resurrection-Man? " 
  2.8471 +
  2.8472 +
  2.8473 +
  2.8474 +167 
  2.8475 +
  2.8476 +
  2.8477 +
  2.8478 +Mr. Cruncher came to a stop on the pavement before he answered, 
  2.8479 +"How should I know?" 
  2.8480 +
  2.8481 +"I thought you knowed everything, father," said the artless boy. 
  2.8482 +
  2.8483 +"Hem! Well," returned Mr. Cruncher, going on again, and lifting off 
  2.8484 +his hat to give his spikes free play, "he's a tradesman." 
  2.8485 +
  2.8486 +"What's his goods, father?" asked the brisk Young Jerry. 
  2.8487 +
  2.8488 +"His goods," said Mr. Cruncher, after turning it over in his mind, "is a 
  2.8489 +branch of Scientific goods." 
  2.8490 +
  2.8491 +"Persons' bodies, ain't it, father?" asked the lively boy. 
  2.8492 +
  2.8493 +"I believe it is something of that sort," said Mr. Cruncher. 
  2.8494 +
  2.8495 +"Oh, father, I should so like to be a Resurrection-Man when I'm quite 
  2.8496 +growed up!" 
  2.8497 +
  2.8498 +Mr. Cruncher was soothed, but shook his head in a dubious and moral 
  2.8499 +way. "It depends upon how you dewelop your talents. Be careful to 
  2.8500 +dewelop your talents, and never to say no more than you can help to 
  2.8501 +nobody, and there's no telling at the present time what you may not 
  2.8502 +come to be fit for." As Young Jerry, thus encouraged, went on a few 
  2.8503 +yards in advance, to plant the stool in the shadow of the Bar, Mr. 
  2.8504 +Cruncher added to himself: "Jerry, you honest tradesman, there's hopes 
  2.8505 +wot that boy will yet be a blessing to you, and a recompense to you for 
  2.8506 +his mother!" 
  2.8507 +
  2.8508 +
  2.8509 +
  2.8510 +168 
  2.8511 +
  2.8512 +
  2.8513 +
  2.8514 +Chapter 
  2.8515 +
  2.8516 +
  2.8517 +
  2.8518 +15 
  2.8519 +
  2.8520 +
  2.8521 +
  2.8522 +Knitting 
  2.8523 +
  2.8524 +There had been earlier drinking than usual in the wine-shop of Mon- 
  2.8525 +sieur Defarge. As early as six o'clock in the morning, sallow faces peep- 
  2.8526 +ing through its barred windows had descried other faces within, bending 
  2.8527 +over measures of wine. Monsieur Defarge sold a very thin wine at the 
  2.8528 +best of times, but it would seem to have been an unusually thin wine that 
  2.8529 +he sold at this time. A sour wine, moreover, or a souring, for its influence 
  2.8530 +on the mood of those who drank it was to make them gloomy. No viva- 
  2.8531 +cious Bacchanalian flame leaped out of the pressed grape of Monsieur 
  2.8532 +Defarge: but, a smouldering fire that burnt in the dark, lay hidden in the 
  2.8533 +dregs of it. 
  2.8534 +
  2.8535 +This had been the third morning in succession, on which there had 
  2.8536 +been early drinking at the wine-shop of Monsieur Defarge. It had begun 
  2.8537 +on Monday, and here was Wednesday come. There had been more of 
  2.8538 +early brooding than drinking; for, many men had listened and 
  2.8539 +whispered and slunk about there from the time of the opening of the 
  2.8540 +door, who could not have laid a piece of money on the counter to save 
  2.8541 +their souls. These were to the full as interested in the place, however, as 
  2.8542 +if they could have commanded whole barrels of wine; and they glided 
  2.8543 +from seat to seat, and from corner to corner, swallowing talk in lieu of 
  2.8544 +drink, with greedy looks. 
  2.8545 +
  2.8546 +Notwithstanding an unusual flow of company, the master of the wine- 
  2.8547 +shop was not visible. He was not missed; for, nobody who crossed the 
  2.8548 +threshold looked for him, nobody asked for him, nobody wondered to 
  2.8549 +see only Madame Defarge in her seat, presiding over the distribution of 
  2.8550 +wine, with a bowl of battered small coins before her, as much defaced 
  2.8551 +and beaten out of their original impress as the small coinage of humanity 
  2.8552 +from whose ragged pockets they had come. 
  2.8553 +
  2.8554 +A suspended interest and a prevalent absence of mind, were perhaps 
  2.8555 +observed by the spies who looked in at the wine-shop, as they looked in 
  2.8556 +at every place, high and low, from the kings palace to the criminal's gaol. 
  2.8557 +
  2.8558 +
  2.8559 +
  2.8560 +169 
  2.8561 +
  2.8562 +
  2.8563 +
  2.8564 +Games at cards languished, players at dominoes musingly built towers 
  2.8565 +with them, drinkers drew figures on the tables with spilt drops of wine, 
  2.8566 +Madame Defarge herself picked out the pattern on her sleeve with her 
  2.8567 +toothpick, and saw and heard something inaudible and invisible a long 
  2.8568 +way off. 
  2.8569 +
  2.8570 +Thus, Saint Antoine in this vinous feature of his, until midday. It was 
  2.8571 +high noontide, when two dusty men passed through his streets and un- 
  2.8572 +der his swinging lamps: of whom, one was Monsieur Defarge: the other 
  2.8573 +a mender of roads in a blue cap. All adust and athirst, the two entered 
  2.8574 +the wine-shop. Their arrival had lighted a kind of fire in the breast of 
  2.8575 +Saint Antoine, fast spreading as they came along, which stirred and 
  2.8576 +flickered in flames of faces at most doors and windows. Yet, no one had 
  2.8577 +followed them, and no man spoke when they entered the wine-shop, 
  2.8578 +though the eyes of every man there were turned upon them. 
  2.8579 +
  2.8580 +"Good day, gentlemen!" said Monsieur Defarge. 
  2.8581 +
  2.8582 +It may have been a signal for loosening the general tongue. It elicited 
  2.8583 +an answering chorus of "Good day!" 
  2.8584 +
  2.8585 +"It is bad weather, gentlemen," said Defarge, shaking his head. 
  2.8586 +
  2.8587 +Upon which, every man looked at his neighbour, and then all cast 
  2.8588 +down their eyes and sat silent. Except one man, who got up and went 
  2.8589 +out. 
  2.8590 +
  2.8591 +"My wife," said Defarge aloud, addressing Madame Defarge: "I have 
  2.8592 +travelled certain leagues with this good mender of roads, called Jacques. 
  2.8593 +I met him - by accident - a day and half's journey out of Paris. He is a 
  2.8594 +good child, this mender of roads, called Jacques. Give him to drink, my 
  2.8595 +wife!" 
  2.8596 +
  2.8597 +A second man got up and went out. Madame Defarge set wine before 
  2.8598 +the mender of roads called Jacques, who doffed his blue cap to the com- 
  2.8599 +pany, and drank. In the breast of his blouse he carried some coarse dark 
  2.8600 +bread; he ate of this between whiles, and sat munching and drinking 
  2.8601 +near Madame Defarge's counter. A third man got up and went out. 
  2.8602 +
  2.8603 +Defarge refreshed himself with a draught of wine - but, he took less 
  2.8604 +than was given to the stranger, as being himself a man to whom it was 
  2.8605 +no rarity - and stood waiting until the countryman had made his break- 
  2.8606 +fast. He looked at no one present, and no one now looked at him; not 
  2.8607 +even Madame Defarge, who had taken up her knitting, and was at work. 
  2.8608 +
  2.8609 +"Have you finished your repast, friend?" he asked, in due season. 
  2.8610 +
  2.8611 +"Yes, thank you." 
  2.8612 +
  2.8613 +
  2.8614 +
  2.8615 +170 
  2.8616 +
  2.8617 +
  2.8618 +
  2.8619 +"Come, then! You shall see the apartment that I told you you could oc- 
  2.8620 +cupy. It will suit you to a marvel." 
  2.8621 +
  2.8622 +Out of the wine-shop into the street, out of the street into a courtyard, 
  2.8623 +out of the courtyard up a steep staircase, out of the staircase into a gar- 
  2.8624 +ret, - formerly the garret where a white-haired man sat on a low bench, 
  2.8625 +stooping forward and very busy, making shoes. 
  2.8626 +
  2.8627 +No white-haired man was there now; but, the three men were there 
  2.8628 +who had gone out of the wine-shop singly. And between them and the 
  2.8629 +white-haired man afar off, was the one small link, that they had once 
  2.8630 +looked in at him through the chinks in the wall. 
  2.8631 +
  2.8632 +Defarge closed the door carefully, and spoke in a subdued voice: 
  2.8633 +
  2.8634 +"Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques Three! This is the witness en- 
  2.8635 +countered by appointment, by me, Jacques Four. He will tell you all. 
  2.8636 +Speak, Jacques Five!" 
  2.8637 +
  2.8638 +The mender of roads, blue cap in hand, wiped his swarthy forehead 
  2.8639 +with it, and said, "Where shall I commence, monsieur?" 
  2.8640 +
  2.8641 +"Commence," was Monsieur Defarge's not unreasonable reply, "at the 
  2.8642 +commencement." 
  2.8643 +
  2.8644 +"I saw him then, messieurs," began the mender of roads, "a year ago 
  2.8645 +this running summer, underneath the carriage of the Marquis, hanging 
  2.8646 +by the chain. Behold the manner of it. I leaving my work on the road, the 
  2.8647 +sun going to bed, the carriage of the Marquis slowly ascending the hill, 
  2.8648 +he hanging by the chain - like this." 
  2.8649 +
  2.8650 +Again the mender of roads went through the whole performance; in 
  2.8651 +which he ought to have been perfect by that time, seeing that it had been 
  2.8652 +the infallible resource and indispensable entertainment of his village 
  2.8653 +during a whole year. 
  2.8654 +
  2.8655 +Jacques One struck in, and asked if he had ever seen the man before? 
  2.8656 +
  2.8657 +"Never," answered the mender of roads, recovering his perpendicular. 
  2.8658 +
  2.8659 +Jacques Three demanded how he afterwards recognised him then? 
  2.8660 +
  2.8661 +"By his tall figure," said the mender of roads, softly, and with his fin- 
  2.8662 +ger at his nose. "When Monsieur the Marquis demands that evening, 
  2.8663 +'Say, what is he like?' I make response, Tall as a spectre.'" 
  2.8664 +
  2.8665 +"You should have said, short as a dwarf," returned Jacques Two. 
  2.8666 +
  2.8667 +"But what did I know? The deed was not then accomplished, neither 
  2.8668 +did he confide in me. Observe! Under those circumstances even, I do not 
  2.8669 +offer my testimony. Monsieur the Marquis indicates me with his finger, 
  2.8670 +
  2.8671 +
  2.8672 +
  2.8673 +171 
  2.8674 +
  2.8675 +
  2.8676 +
  2.8677 +standing near our little fountain, and says, To me! Bring that rascal!' My 
  2.8678 +faith, messieurs, I offer nothing." 
  2.8679 +
  2.8680 +"He is right there, Jacques," murmured Defarge, to him who had inter- 
  2.8681 +rupted. "Go on!" 
  2.8682 +
  2.8683 +"Good!" said the mender of roads, with an air of mystery. "The tall 
  2.8684 +man is lost, and he is sought - how many months? Nine, ten, eleven?" 
  2.8685 +
  2.8686 +"No matter, the number," said Defarge. "He is well hidden, but at last 
  2.8687 +he is unluckily found. Go on!" 
  2.8688 +
  2.8689 +"I am again at work upon the hill-side, and the sun is again about to 
  2.8690 +go to bed. I am collecting my tools to descend to my cottage down in the 
  2.8691 +village below, where it is already dark, when I raise my eyes, and see 
  2.8692 +coming over the hill six soldiers. In the midst of them is a tall man with 
  2.8693 +his arms bound - tied to his sides - like this!" 
  2.8694 +
  2.8695 +With the aid of his indispensable cap, he represented a man with his 
  2.8696 +elbows bound fast at his hips, with cords that were knotted behind him. 
  2.8697 +
  2.8698 +"I stand aside, messieurs, by my heap of stones, to see the soldiers and 
  2.8699 +their prisoner pass (for it is a solitary road, that, where any spectacle is 
  2.8700 +well worth looking at), and at first, as they approach, I see no more than 
  2.8701 +that they are six soldiers with a tall man bound, and that they are almost 
  2.8702 +black to my sight - except on the side of the sun going to bed, where they 
  2.8703 +have a red edge, messieurs. Also, I see that their long shadows are on the 
  2.8704 +hollow ridge on the opposite side of the road, and are on the hill above 
  2.8705 +it, and are like the shadows of giants. Also, I see that they are covered 
  2.8706 +with dust, and that the dust moves with them as they come, tramp, 
  2.8707 +tramp! But when they advance quite near to me, I recognise the tall man, 
  2.8708 +and he recognises me. Ah, but he would be well content to precipitate 
  2.8709 +himself over the hill-side once again, as on the evening when he and I 
  2.8710 +first encountered, close to the same spot!" 
  2.8711 +
  2.8712 +He described it as if he were there, and it was evident that he saw it 
  2.8713 +vividly; perhaps he had not seen much in his life. 
  2.8714 +
  2.8715 +"I do not show the soldiers that I recognise the tall man; he does not 
  2.8716 +show the soldiers that he recognises me; we do it, and we know it, with 
  2.8717 +our eyes. 'Come on!' says the chief of that company, pointing to the vil- 
  2.8718 +lage, 'bring him fast to his tomb!' and they bring him faster. I follow. His 
  2.8719 +arms are swelled because of being bound so tight, his wooden shoes are 
  2.8720 +large and clumsy, and he is lame. Because he is lame, and consequently 
  2.8721 +slow, they drive him with their guns - like this!" 
  2.8722 +
  2.8723 +
  2.8724 +
  2.8725 +172 
  2.8726 +
  2.8727 +
  2.8728 +
  2.8729 +He imitated the action of a man's being impelled forward by the butt- 
  2.8730 +ends of muskets. 
  2.8731 +
  2.8732 +"As they descend the hill like madmen running a race, he falls. They 
  2.8733 +laugh and pick him up again. His face is bleeding and covered with dust, 
  2.8734 +but he cannot touch it; thereupon they laugh again. They bring him into 
  2.8735 +the village; all the village runs to look; they take him past the mill, and 
  2.8736 +up to the prison; all the village sees the prison gate open in the darkness 
  2.8737 +of the night, and swallow him - like this!" 
  2.8738 +
  2.8739 +He opened his mouth as wide as he could, and shut it with a sounding 
  2.8740 +snap of his teeth. Observant of his unwillingness to mar the effect by 
  2.8741 +opening it again, Defarge said, "Go on, Jacques." 
  2.8742 +
  2.8743 +"All the village," pursued the mender of roads, on tiptoe and in a low 
  2.8744 +voice, "withdraws; all the village whispers by the fountain; all the village 
  2.8745 +sleeps; all the village dreams of that unhappy one, within the locks and 
  2.8746 +bars of the prison on the crag, and never to come out of it, except to per- 
  2.8747 +ish. In the morning, with my tools upon my shoulder, eating my morsel 
  2.8748 +of black bread as I go, I make a circuit by the prison, on my way to my 
  2.8749 +work. There I see him, high up, behind the bars of a lofty iron cage, 
  2.8750 +bloody and dusty as last night, looking through. He has no hand free, to 
  2.8751 +wave to me; I dare not call to him; he regards me like a dead man." 
  2.8752 +
  2.8753 +Defarge and the three glanced darkly at one another. The looks of all 
  2.8754 +of them were dark, repressed, and revengeful, as they listened to the 
  2.8755 +countryman's story; the manner of all of them, while it was secret, was 
  2.8756 +authoritative too. They had the air of a rough tribunal; Jacques One and 
  2.8757 +Two sitting on the old pallet-bed, each with his chin resting on his hand, 
  2.8758 +and his eyes intent on the road-mender; Jacques Three, equally intent, on 
  2.8759 +one knee behind them, with his agitated hand always gliding over the 
  2.8760 +network of fine nerves about his mouth and nose; Defarge standing 
  2.8761 +between them and the narrator, whom he had stationed in the light of 
  2.8762 +the window, by turns looking from him to them, and from them to him. 
  2.8763 +
  2.8764 +"Go on, Jacques," said Defarge. 
  2.8765 +
  2.8766 +"He remains up there in his iron cage some days. The village looks at 
  2.8767 +him by stealth, for it is afraid. But it always looks up, from a distance, at 
  2.8768 +the prison on the crag; and in the evening, when the work of the day is 
  2.8769 +achieved and it assembles to gossip at the fountain, all faces are turned 
  2.8770 +towards the prison. Formerly, they were turned towards the posting- 
  2.8771 +house; now, they are turned towards the prison. They whisper at the 
  2.8772 +fountain, that although condemned to death he will not be executed; 
  2.8773 +they say that petitions have been presented in Paris, showing that he was 
  2.8774 +
  2.8775 +
  2.8776 +
  2.8777 +173 
  2.8778 +
  2.8779 +
  2.8780 +
  2.8781 +enraged and made mad by the death of his child; they say that a petition 
  2.8782 +has been presented to the King himself. What do I know? It is possible. 
  2.8783 +Perhaps yes, perhaps no." 
  2.8784 +
  2.8785 +"Listen then, Jacques," Number One of that name sternly interposed. 
  2.8786 +"Know that a petition was presented to the King and Queen. All here, 
  2.8787 +yourself excepted, saw the King take it, in his carriage in the street, sit- 
  2.8788 +ting beside the Queen. It is Defarge whom you see here, who, at the haz- 
  2.8789 +ard of his life, darted out before the horses, with the petition in his 
  2.8790 +hand." 
  2.8791 +
  2.8792 +"And once again listen, Jacques!" said the kneeling Number Three: his 
  2.8793 +fingers ever wandering over and over those fine nerves, with a strikingly 
  2.8794 +greedy air, as if he hungered for something - that was neither food nor 
  2.8795 +drink; "the guard, horse and foot, surrounded the petitioner, and struck 
  2.8796 +him blows. You hear?" 
  2.8797 +
  2.8798 +"I hear, messieurs." 
  2.8799 +
  2.8800 +"Go on then," said Defarge. 
  2.8801 +
  2.8802 +"Again; on the other hand, they whisper at the fountain," resumed the 
  2.8803 +countryman, "that he is brought down into our country to be executed 
  2.8804 +on the spot, and that he will very certainly be executed. They even whis- 
  2.8805 +per that because he has slain Monseigneur, and because Monseigneur 
  2.8806 +was the father of his tenants - serfs - what you will - he will be executed 
  2.8807 +as a parricide. One old man says at the fountain, that his right hand, 
  2.8808 +armed with the knife, will be burnt off before his face; that, into wounds 
  2.8809 +which will be made in his arms, his breast, and his legs, there will be 
  2.8810 +poured boiling oil, melted lead, hot resin, wax, and sulphur; finally, that 
  2.8811 +he will be torn limb from limb by four strong horses. That old man says, 
  2.8812 +all this was actually done to a prisoner who made an attempt on the life 
  2.8813 +of the late King, Louis Fifteen. But how do I know if he lies? I am not a 
  2.8814 +scholar." 
  2.8815 +
  2.8816 +"Listen once again then, Jacques!" said the man with the restless hand 
  2.8817 +and the craving air. "The name of that prisoner was Damiens, and it was 
  2.8818 +all done in open day, in the open streets of this city of Paris; and nothing 
  2.8819 +was more noticed in the vast concourse that saw it done, than the crowd 
  2.8820 +of ladies of quality and fashion, who were full of eager attention to the 
  2.8821 +last - to the last, Jacques, prolonged until nightfall, when he had lost two 
  2.8822 +legs and an arm, and still breathed! And it was done - why, how old are 
  2.8823 +you?" 
  2.8824 +
  2.8825 +"Thirty-five," said the mender of roads, who looked sixty. 
  2.8826 +
  2.8827 +
  2.8828 +
  2.8829 +174 
  2.8830 +
  2.8831 +
  2.8832 +
  2.8833 +"It was done when you were more than ten years old; you might have 
  2.8834 +seen it." 
  2.8835 +
  2.8836 +"Enough!" said Defarge, with grim impatience. "Long live the Devil! 
  2.8837 +Goon." 
  2.8838 +
  2.8839 +"Well! Some whisper this, some whisper that; they speak of nothing 
  2.8840 +else; even the fountain appears to fall to that tune. At length, on Sunday 
  2.8841 +night when all the village is asleep, come soldiers, winding down from 
  2.8842 +the prison, and their guns ring on the stones of the little street. Workmen 
  2.8843 +dig, workmen hammer, soldiers laugh and sing; in the morning, by the 
  2.8844 +fountain, there is raised a gallows forty feet high, poisoning the water." 
  2.8845 +
  2.8846 +The mender of roads looked through rather than at the low ceiling, 
  2.8847 +and pointed as if he saw the gallows somewhere in the sky. 
  2.8848 +
  2.8849 +"All work is stopped, all assemble there, nobody leads the cows out, 
  2.8850 +the cows are there with the rest. At midday, the roll of drums. Soldiers 
  2.8851 +have marched into the prison in the night, and he is in the midst of many 
  2.8852 +soldiers. He is bound as before, and in his mouth there is a gag - tied so, 
  2.8853 +with a tight string, making him look almost as if he laughed." He sugges- 
  2.8854 +ted it, by creasing his face with his two thumbs, from the corners of his 
  2.8855 +mouth to his ears. "On the top of the gallows is fixed the knife, blade up- 
  2.8856 +wards, with its point in the air. He is hanged there forty feet high - and 
  2.8857 +is left hanging, poisoning the water." 
  2.8858 +
  2.8859 +They looked at one another, as he used his blue cap to wipe his face, 
  2.8860 +on which the perspiration had started afresh while he recalled the 
  2.8861 +spectacle. 
  2.8862 +
  2.8863 +"It is frightful, messieurs. How can the women and the children draw 
  2.8864 +water! Who can gossip of an evening, under that shadow! Under it, have 
  2.8865 +I said? When I left the village, Monday evening as the sun was going to 
  2.8866 +bed, and looked back from the hill, the shadow struck across the church, 
  2.8867 +across the mill, across the prison - seemed to strike across the earth, 
  2.8868 +messieurs, to where the sky rests upon it!" 
  2.8869 +
  2.8870 +The hungry man gnawed one of his fingers as he looked at the other 
  2.8871 +three, and his finger quivered with the craving that was on him. 
  2.8872 +
  2.8873 +"That's all, messieurs. I left at sunset (as I had been warned to do), and 
  2.8874 +I walked on, that night and half next day, until I met (as I was warned I 
  2.8875 +should) this comrade. With him, I came on, now riding and now walk- 
  2.8876 +ing, through the rest of yesterday and through last night. And here you 
  2.8877 +see me!" 
  2.8878 +
  2.8879 +
  2.8880 +
  2.8881 +175 
  2.8882 +
  2.8883 +
  2.8884 +
  2.8885 +After a gloomy silence, the first Jacques said, "Good! You have acted 
  2.8886 +and recounted faithfully. Will you wait for us a little, outside the door?" 
  2.8887 +
  2.8888 +"Very willingly," said the mender of roads. Whom Defarge escorted to 
  2.8889 +the top of the stairs, and, leaving seated there, returned. 
  2.8890 +
  2.8891 +The three had risen, and their heads were together when he came back 
  2.8892 +to the garret. 
  2.8893 +
  2.8894 +"How say you, Jacques?" demanded Number One. "To be registered?" 
  2.8895 +
  2.8896 +"To be registered, as doomed to destruction," returned Defarge. 
  2.8897 +
  2.8898 +"Magnificent!" croaked the man with the craving. 
  2.8899 +
  2.8900 +"The chateau, and all the race?" inquired the first. 
  2.8901 +
  2.8902 +"The chateau and all the race," returned Defarge. "Extermination." 
  2.8903 +
  2.8904 +The hungry man repeated, in a rapturous croak, "Magnificent!" and 
  2.8905 +began gnawing another finger. 
  2.8906 +
  2.8907 +"Are you sure," asked Jacques Two, of Defarge, "that no embarrass- 
  2.8908 +ment can arise from our manner of keeping the register? Without doubt 
  2.8909 +it is safe, for no one beyond ourselves can decipher it; but shall we al- 
  2.8910 +ways be able to decipher it - or, I ought to say, will she?" 
  2.8911 +
  2.8912 +"Jacques," returned Defarge, drawing himself up, "if madame my wife 
  2.8913 +undertook to keep the register in her memory alone, she would not lose a 
  2.8914 +word of it - not a syllable of it. Knitted, in her own stitches and her own 
  2.8915 +symbols, it will always be as plain to her as the sun. Confide in Madame 
  2.8916 +Defarge. It would be easier for the weakest poltroon that lives, to erase 
  2.8917 +himself from existence, than to erase one letter of his name or crimes 
  2.8918 +from the knitted register of Madame Defarge." 
  2.8919 +
  2.8920 +There was a murmur of confidence and approval, and then the man 
  2.8921 +who hungered, asked: "Is this rustic to be sent back soon? I hope so. He 
  2.8922 +is very simple; is he not a little dangerous?" 
  2.8923 +
  2.8924 +"He knows nothing," said Defarge; "at least nothing more than would 
  2.8925 +easily elevate himself to a gallows of the same height. I charge myself 
  2.8926 +with him; let him remain with me; I will take care of him, and set him on 
  2.8927 +his road. He wishes to see the fine world - the King, the Queen, and 
  2.8928 +Court; let him see them on Sunday." 
  2.8929 +
  2.8930 +"What?" exclaimed the hungry man, staring. "Is it a good sign, that he 
  2.8931 +wishes to see Royalty and Nobility?" 
  2.8932 +
  2.8933 +"Jacques," said Defarge; "judiciously show a cat milk, if you wish her 
  2.8934 +to thirst for it. Judiciously show a dog his natural prey, if you wish him 
  2.8935 +to bring it down one day." 
  2.8936 +
  2.8937 +
  2.8938 +
  2.8939 +176 
  2.8940 +
  2.8941 +
  2.8942 +
  2.8943 +Nothing more was said, and the mender of roads, being found already 
  2.8944 +dozing on the topmost stair, was advised to lay himself down on the 
  2.8945 +pallet-bed and take some rest. He needed no persuasion, and was soon 
  2.8946 +asleep. 
  2.8947 +
  2.8948 +Worse quarters than Defarge's wine-shop, could easily have been 
  2.8949 +found in Paris for a provincial slave of that degree. Saving for a mysteri- 
  2.8950 +ous dread of madame by which he was constantly haunted, his life was 
  2.8951 +very new and agreeable. But, madame sat all day at her counter, so ex- 
  2.8952 +pressly unconscious of him, and so particularly determined not to per- 
  2.8953 +ceive that his being there had any connexion with anything below the 
  2.8954 +surface, that he shook in his wooden shoes whenever his eye lighted on 
  2.8955 +her. For, he contended with himself that it was impossible to foresee 
  2.8956 +what that lady might pretend next; and he felt assured that if she should 
  2.8957 +take it into her brightly ornamented head to pretend that she had seen 
  2.8958 +him do a murder and afterwards flay the victim, she would infallibly go 
  2.8959 +through with it until the play was played out. 
  2.8960 +
  2.8961 +Therefore, when Sunday came, the mender of roads was not en- 
  2.8962 +chanted (though he said he was) to find that madame was to accompany 
  2.8963 +monsieur and himself to Versailles. It was additionally disconcerting to 
  2.8964 +have madame knitting all the way there, in a public conveyance; it was 
  2.8965 +additionally disconcerting yet, to have madame in the crowd in the after- 
  2.8966 +noon, still with her knitting in her hands as the crowd waited to see the 
  2.8967 +carriage of the King and Queen. 
  2.8968 +
  2.8969 +"You work hard, madame," said a man near her. 
  2.8970 +
  2.8971 +"Yes," answered Madame Defarge; "I have a good deal to do." 
  2.8972 +
  2.8973 +"What do you make, madame?" 
  2.8974 +
  2.8975 +"Many things." 
  2.8976 +
  2.8977 +"For instance - " 
  2.8978 +
  2.8979 +"For instance," returned Madame Defarge, composedly, "shrouds." 
  2.8980 +
  2.8981 +The man moved a little further away, as soon as he could, and the 
  2.8982 +mender of roads fanned himself with his blue cap: feeling it mightily 
  2.8983 +close and oppressive. If he needed a King and Queen to restore him, he 
  2.8984 +was fortunate in having his remedy at hand; for, soon the large-faced 
  2.8985 +King and the fair-faced Queen came in their golden coach, attended by 
  2.8986 +the shining Bull's Eye of their Court, a glittering multitude of laughing 
  2.8987 +ladies and fine lords; and in jewels and silks and powder and splendour 
  2.8988 +and elegantly spurning figures and handsomely disdainful faces of both 
  2.8989 +sexes, the mender of roads bathed himself, so much to his temporary 
  2.8990 +
  2.8991 +
  2.8992 +
  2.8993 +177 
  2.8994 +
  2.8995 +
  2.8996 +
  2.8997 +intoxication, that he cried Long live the King, Long live the Queen, Long 
  2.8998 +live everybody and everything! as if he had never heard of ubiquitous 
  2.8999 +Jacques in his time. Then, there were gardens, courtyards, terraces, foun- 
  2.9000 +tains, green banks, more King and Queen, more Bull's Eye,more lords 
  2.9001 +and ladies, more Long live they all! until he absolutely wept with senti- 
  2.9002 +ment. During the whole of this scene, which lasted some three hours, he 
  2.9003 +had plenty of shouting and weeping and sentimental company, and 
  2.9004 +throughout Defarge held him by the collar, as if to restrain him from fly- 
  2.9005 +ing at the objects of his brief devotion and tearing them to pieces. 
  2.9006 +
  2.9007 +"Bravo!" said Defarge, clapping him on the back when it was over, like 
  2.9008 +a patron; "you are a good boy!" 
  2.9009 +
  2.9010 +The mender of roads was now coming to himself, and was mistrustful 
  2.9011 +of having made a mistake in his late demonstrations; but no. 
  2.9012 +
  2.9013 +"You are the fellow we want," said Defarge, in his ear; "you make 
  2.9014 +these fools believe that it will last for ever. Then, they are the more in- 
  2.9015 +solent, and it is the nearer ended." 
  2.9016 +
  2.9017 +"Hey!" cried the mender of roads, reflectively; "that's true." 
  2.9018 +
  2.9019 +"These fools know nothing. While they despise your breath, and 
  2.9020 +would stop it for ever and ever, in you or in a hundred like you rather 
  2.9021 +than in one of their own horses or dogs, they only know what your 
  2.9022 +breath tells them. Let it deceive them, then, a little longer; it cannot de- 
  2.9023 +ceive them too much." 
  2.9024 +
  2.9025 +Madame Defarge looked superciliously at the client, and nodded in 
  2.9026 +confirmation. 
  2.9027 +
  2.9028 +"As to you," said she, "you would shout and shed tears for anything, 
  2.9029 +if it made a show and a noise. Say! Would you not?" 
  2.9030 +
  2.9031 +"Truly, madame, I think so. For the moment." 
  2.9032 +
  2.9033 +"If you were shown a great heap of dolls, and were set upon them to 
  2.9034 +pluck them to pieces and despoil them for your own advantage, you 
  2.9035 +would pick out the richest and gayest. Say! Would you not?" 
  2.9036 +
  2.9037 +"Truly yes, madame." 
  2.9038 +
  2.9039 +"Yes. And if you were shown a flock of birds, unable to fly, and were 
  2.9040 +set upon them to strip them of their feathers for your own advantage, 
  2.9041 +you would set upon the birds of the finest feathers; would you not?" 
  2.9042 +
  2.9043 +"It is true, madame." 
  2.9044 +
  2.9045 +
  2.9046 +
  2.9047 +178 
  2.9048 +
  2.9049 +
  2.9050 +
  2.9051 +"You have seen both dolls and birds to-day," said Madame Defarge, 
  2.9052 +with a wave of her hand towards the place where they had last been ap- 
  2.9053 +parent; "now, go home!" 
  2.9054 +
  2.9055 +
  2.9056 +
  2.9057 +179 
  2.9058 +
  2.9059 +
  2.9060 +
  2.9061 +Chapter 
  2.9062 +
  2.9063 +
  2.9064 +
  2.9065 +16 
  2.9066 +
  2.9067 +
  2.9068 +
  2.9069 +Still Knitting 
  2.9070 +
  2.9071 +Madame Defarge and monsieur her husband returned amicably to the 
  2.9072 +bosom of Saint Antoine, while a speck in a blue cap toiled through the 
  2.9073 +darkness, and through the dust, and down the weary miles of avenue by 
  2.9074 +the wayside, slowly tending towards that point of the compass where 
  2.9075 +the chateau of Monsieur the Marquis, now in his grave, listened to the 
  2.9076 +whispering trees. Such ample leisure had the stone faces, now, for listen- 
  2.9077 +ing to the trees and to the fountain, that the few village scarecrows who, 
  2.9078 +in their quest for herbs to eat and fragments of dead stick to burn, 
  2.9079 +strayed within sight of the great stone courtyard and terrace staircase, 
  2.9080 +had it borne in upon their starved fancy that the expression of the faces 
  2.9081 +was altered. A rumour just lived in the village - had a faint and bare ex- 
  2.9082 +istence there, as its people had - that when the knife struck home, the 
  2.9083 +faces changed, from faces of pride to faces of anger and pain; also, that 
  2.9084 +when that dangling figure was hauled up forty feet above the fountain, 
  2.9085 +they changed again, and bore a cruel look of being avenged, which they 
  2.9086 +would henceforth bear for ever. In the stone face over the great window 
  2.9087 +of the bed-chamber where the murder was done, two fine dints were 
  2.9088 +pointed out in the sculptured nose, which everybody recognised, and 
  2.9089 +which nobody had seen of old; and on the scarce occasions when two or 
  2.9090 +three ragged peasants emerged from the crowd to take a hurried peep at 
  2.9091 +Monsieur the Marquis petrified, a skinny finger would not have pointed 
  2.9092 +to it for a minute, before they all started away among the moss and 
  2.9093 +leaves, like the more fortunate hares who could find a living there. 
  2.9094 +
  2.9095 +Chateau and hut, stone face and dangling figure, the red stain on the 
  2.9096 +stone floor, and the pure water in the village well - thousands of acres of 
  2.9097 +land - a whole province of France - all France itself - lay under the night 
  2.9098 +sky, concentrated into a faint hair-breadth line. So does a whole world, 
  2.9099 +with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling star. And as 
  2.9100 +mere human knowledge can split a ray of light and analyse the manner 
  2.9101 +of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in the feeble 
  2.9102 +
  2.9103 +
  2.9104 +
  2.9105 +180 
  2.9106 +
  2.9107 +
  2.9108 +
  2.9109 +shining of this earth of ours, every thought and act, every vice and vir- 
  2.9110 +tue, of every responsible creature on it. 
  2.9111 +
  2.9112 +The Defarges, husband and wife, came lumbering under the starlight, 
  2.9113 +in their public vehicle, to that gate of Paris whereunto their journey nat- 
  2.9114 +urally tended. There was the usual stoppage at the barrier guardhouse, 
  2.9115 +and the usual lanterns came glancing forth for the usual examination and 
  2.9116 +inquiry. Monsieur Defarge alighted; knowing one or two of the soldiery 
  2.9117 +there, and one of the police. The latter he was intimate with, and affec- 
  2.9118 +tionately embraced. 
  2.9119 +
  2.9120 +When Saint Antoine had again enfolded the Defarges in his dusky 
  2.9121 +wings, and they, having finally alighted near the Saint's boundaries, 
  2.9122 +were picking their way on foot through the black mud and offal of his 
  2.9123 +streets, Madame Defarge spoke to her husband: 
  2.9124 +
  2.9125 +"Say then, my friend; what did Jacques of the police tell thee?" 
  2.9126 +
  2.9127 +"Very little to-night, but all he knows. There is another spy commis- 
  2.9128 +sioned for our quarter. There may be many more, for all that he can say, 
  2.9129 +but he knows of one." 
  2.9130 +
  2.9131 +"Eh well!" said Madame Defarge, raising her eyebrows with a cool 
  2.9132 +business air. "It is necessary to register him. How do they call that man?" 
  2.9133 +
  2.9134 +"He is English." 
  2.9135 +
  2.9136 +"So much the better. His name?" 
  2.9137 +
  2.9138 +"Barsad," said Defarge, making it French by pronunciation. But, he 
  2.9139 +had been so careful to get it accurately, that he then spelt it with perfect 
  2.9140 +correctness. 
  2.9141 +
  2.9142 +"Barsad," repeated madame. "Good. Christian name?" 
  2.9143 +
  2.9144 +"John." 
  2.9145 +
  2.9146 +"John Barsad," repeated madame, after murmuring it once to herself. 
  2.9147 +"Good. His appearance; is it known?" 
  2.9148 +
  2.9149 +"Age, about forty years; height, about five feet nine; black hair; com- 
  2.9150 +plexion dark; generally, rather handsome visage; eyes dark, face thin, 
  2.9151 +long, and sallow; nose aquiline, but not straight, having a peculiar inclin- 
  2.9152 +ation towards the left cheek; expression, therefore, sinister." 
  2.9153 +
  2.9154 +"Eh my faith. It is a portrait!" said madame, laughing. "He shall be 
  2.9155 +registered to-morrow." 
  2.9156 +
  2.9157 +They turned into the wine-shop, which was closed (for it was mid- 
  2.9158 +night), and where Madame Defarge immediately took her post at her 
  2.9159 +desk, counted the small moneys that had been taken during her absence, 
  2.9160 +
  2.9161 +
  2.9162 +
  2.9163 +181 
  2.9164 +
  2.9165 +
  2.9166 +
  2.9167 +examined the stock, went through the entries in the book, made other 
  2.9168 +entries of her own, checked the serving man in every possible way, and 
  2.9169 +finally dismissed him to bed. Then she turned out the contents of the 
  2.9170 +bowl of money for the second time, and began knotting them up in her 
  2.9171 +handkerchief, in a chain of separate knots, for safe keeping through the 
  2.9172 +night. All this while, Defarge, with his pipe in his mouth, walked up and 
  2.9173 +down, complacently admiring, but never interfering; in which condition, 
  2.9174 +indeed, as to the business and his domestic affairs, he walked up and 
  2.9175 +down through life. 
  2.9176 +
  2.9177 +The night was hot, and the shop, close shut and surrounded by so foul 
  2.9178 +a neighbourhood, was ill-smelling. Monsieur Defarge's olfactory sense 
  2.9179 +was by no means delicate, but the stock of wine smelt much stronger 
  2.9180 +than it ever tasted, and so did the stock of rum and brandy and aniseed. 
  2.9181 +He whiffed the compound of scents away, as he put down his smoked- 
  2.9182 +out pipe. 
  2.9183 +
  2.9184 +"You are fatigued," said madame, raising her glance as she knotted the 
  2.9185 +money. "There are only the usual odours." 
  2.9186 +
  2.9187 +"I am a little tired," her husband acknowledged. 
  2.9188 +
  2.9189 +"You are a little depressed, too," said madame, whose quick eyes had 
  2.9190 +never been so intent on the accounts, but they had had a ray or two for 
  2.9191 +him. "Oh, the men, the men!" 
  2.9192 +
  2.9193 +"But my dear!" began Defarge. 
  2.9194 +
  2.9195 +"But my dear!" repeated madame, nodding firmly; "but my dear! You 
  2.9196 +are faint of heart to-night, my dear!" 
  2.9197 +
  2.9198 +"Well, then," said Defarge, as if a thought were wrung out of his 
  2.9199 +breast, "it is a long time." 
  2.9200 +
  2.9201 +"It is a long time," repeated his wife; "and when is it not a long time? 
  2.9202 +Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule." 
  2.9203 +
  2.9204 +"It does not take a long time to strike a man with Lightning," said 
  2.9205 +Defarge. 
  2.9206 +
  2.9207 +"How long," demanded madame, composedly, "does it take to make 
  2.9208 +and store the lightning? Tell me." 
  2.9209 +
  2.9210 +Defarge raised his head thoughtfully, as if there were something in 
  2.9211 +that too. 
  2.9212 +
  2.9213 +"It does not take a long time," said madame, "for an earthquake to 
  2.9214 +swallow a town. Eh well! Tell me how long it takes to prepare the 
  2.9215 +earthquake?" 
  2.9216 +
  2.9217 +
  2.9218 +
  2.9219 +182 
  2.9220 +
  2.9221 +
  2.9222 +
  2.9223 +"A long time, I suppose," said Defarge. 
  2.9224 +
  2.9225 +"But when it is ready, it takes place, and grinds to pieces everything 
  2.9226 +before it. In the meantime, it is always preparing, though it is not seen or 
  2.9227 +heard. That is your consolation. Keep it." 
  2.9228 +
  2.9229 +She tied a knot with flashing eyes, as if it throttled a foe. 
  2.9230 +
  2.9231 +"I tell thee," said madame, extending her right hand, for emphasis, 
  2.9232 +"that although it is a long time on the road, it is on the road and coming. 
  2.9233 +I tell thee it never retreats, and never stops. I tell thee it is always advan- 
  2.9234 +cing. Look around and consider the lives of all the world that we know, 
  2.9235 +consider the faces of all the world that we know, consider the rage and 
  2.9236 +discontent to which the Jacquerie addresses itself with more and more of 
  2.9237 +certainty every hour. Can such things last? Bah! I mock you." 
  2.9238 +
  2.9239 +"My brave wife," returned Defarge, standing before her with his head 
  2.9240 +a little bent, and his hands clasped at his back, like a docile and attentive 
  2.9241 +pupil before his catechist, "I do not question all this. But it has lasted a 
  2.9242 +long time, and it is possible - you know well, my wife, it is pos- 
  2.9243 +sible - that it may not come, during our lives." 
  2.9244 +
  2.9245 +"Eh well! How then?" demanded madame, tying another knot, as if 
  2.9246 +there were another enemy strangled. 
  2.9247 +
  2.9248 +"Well!" said Defarge, with a half complaining and half apologetic 
  2.9249 +shrug. "We shall not see the triumph." 
  2.9250 +
  2.9251 +"We shall have helped it," returned madame, with her extended hand 
  2.9252 +in strong action. "Nothing that we do, is done in vain. I believe, with all 
  2.9253 +my soul, that we shall see the triumph. But even if not, even if I knew 
  2.9254 +certainly not, show me the neck of an aristocrat and tyrant, and still I 
  2.9255 +would - " 
  2.9256 +
  2.9257 +Then madame, with her teeth set, tied a very terrible knot indeed. 
  2.9258 +
  2.9259 +"Hold!" cried Defarge, reddening a little as if he felt charged with 
  2.9260 +cowardice; "I too, my dear, will stop at nothing." 
  2.9261 +
  2.9262 +"Yes! But it is your weakness that you sometimes need to see your vic- 
  2.9263 +tim and your opportunity, to sustain you. Sustain yourself without that. 
  2.9264 +When the time comes, let loose a tiger and a devil; but wait for the time 
  2.9265 +with the tiger and the devil chained - not shown - yet always ready." 
  2.9266 +
  2.9267 +Madame enforced the conclusion of this piece of advice by striking her 
  2.9268 +little counter with her chain of money as if she knocked its brains out, 
  2.9269 +and then gathering the heavy handkerchief under her arm in a serene 
  2.9270 +manner, and observing that it was time to go to bed. 
  2.9271 +
  2.9272 +
  2.9273 +
  2.9274 +183 
  2.9275 +
  2.9276 +
  2.9277 +
  2.9278 +Next noontide saw the admirable woman in her usual place in the 
  2.9279 +wine-shop, knitting away assiduously. A rose lay beside her, and if she 
  2.9280 +now and then glanced at the flower, it was with no infraction of her usu- 
  2.9281 +al preoccupied air. There were a few customers, drinking or not drink- 
  2.9282 +ing, standing or seated, sprinkled about. The day was very hot, and 
  2.9283 +heaps of flies, who were extending their inquisitive and adventurous 
  2.9284 +perquisitions into all the glutinous little glasses near madame, fell dead 
  2.9285 +at the bottom. Their decease made no impression on the other flies out 
  2.9286 +promenading, who looked at them in the coolest manner (as if they 
  2.9287 +themselves were elephants, or something as far removed), until they met 
  2.9288 +the same fate. Curious to consider how heedless flies are! - perhaps they 
  2.9289 +thought as much at Court that sunny summer day. 
  2.9290 +
  2.9291 +A figure entering at the door threw a shadow on Madame Defarge 
  2.9292 +which she felt to be a new one. She laid down her knitting, and began to 
  2.9293 +pin her rose in her head-dress, before she looked at the figure. 
  2.9294 +
  2.9295 +It was curious. The moment Madame Defarge took up the rose, the 
  2.9296 +customers ceased talking, and began gradually to drop out of the wine- 
  2.9297 +shop. 
  2.9298 +
  2.9299 +"Good day, madame," said the new-comer. 
  2.9300 +
  2.9301 +"Good day, monsieur." 
  2.9302 +
  2.9303 +She said it aloud, but added to herself, as she resumed her knitting: 
  2.9304 +"Hah! Good day, age about forty, height about five feet nine, black hair, 
  2.9305 +generally rather handsome visage, complexion dark, eyes dark, thin, 
  2.9306 +long and sallow face, aquiline nose but not straight, having a peculiar in- 
  2.9307 +clination towards the left cheek which imparts a sinister expression! 
  2.9308 +Good day, one and all!" 
  2.9309 +
  2.9310 +"Have the goodness to give me a little glass of old cognac, and a 
  2.9311 +mouthful of cool fresh water, madame." 
  2.9312 +
  2.9313 +Madame complied with a polite air. 
  2.9314 +
  2.9315 +"Marvellous cognac this, madame!" 
  2.9316 +
  2.9317 +It was the first time it had ever been so complemented, and Madame 
  2.9318 +Defarge knew enough of its antecedents to know better. She said, 
  2.9319 +however, that the cognac was flattered, and took up her knitting. The 
  2.9320 +visitor watched her fingers for a few moments, and took the opportunity 
  2.9321 +of observing the place in general. 
  2.9322 +
  2.9323 +"You knit with great skill, madame." 
  2.9324 +
  2.9325 +"I am accustomed to it." 
  2.9326 +
  2.9327 +
  2.9328 +
  2.9329 +184 
  2.9330 +
  2.9331 +
  2.9332 +
  2.9333 +"A pretty pattern too!" 
  2.9334 +
  2.9335 +"You think so?" said madame, looking at him with a smile. 
  2.9336 +
  2.9337 +"Decidedly. May one ask what it is for?" 
  2.9338 +
  2.9339 +"Pastime," said madame, still looking at him with a smile while her 
  2.9340 +fingers moved nimbly. 
  2.9341 +
  2.9342 +"Not for use?" 
  2.9343 +
  2.9344 +"That depends. I may find a use for it one day. If I do - Well," said ma- 
  2.9345 +dame, drawing a breath and nodding her head with a stern kind of 
  2.9346 +coquetry, "I'll use it!" 
  2.9347 +
  2.9348 +It was remarkable; but, the taste of Saint Antoine seemed to be de- 
  2.9349 +cidedly opposed to a rose on the head-dress of Madame Defarge. Two 
  2.9350 +men had entered separately, and had been about to order drink, when, 
  2.9351 +catching sight of that novelty, they faltered, made a pretence of looking 
  2.9352 +about as if for some friend who was not there, and went away. Nor, of 
  2.9353 +those who had been there when this visitor entered, was there one left. 
  2.9354 +They had all dropped off. The spy had kept his eyes open, but had been 
  2.9355 +able to detect no sign. They had lounged away in a poverty-stricken, 
  2.9356 +purposeless, accidental manner, quite natural and unimpeachable. 
  2.9357 +
  2.9358 +"John," thought madame, checking off her work as her fingers knitted, 
  2.9359 +and her eyes looked at the stranger. "Stay long enough, and I shall knit 
  2.9360 +'Barsad' before you go." 
  2.9361 +
  2.9362 +"You have a husband, madame?" 
  2.9363 +
  2.9364 +"I have." 
  2.9365 +
  2.9366 +"Children?" 
  2.9367 +
  2.9368 +"No children." 
  2.9369 +
  2.9370 +"Business seems bad?" 
  2.9371 +
  2.9372 +"Business is very bad; the people are so poor." 
  2.9373 +
  2.9374 +"Ah, the unfortunate, miserable people! So oppressed, too - as you 
  2.9375 +say." 
  2.9376 +
  2.9377 +"As you say," madame retorted, correcting him, and deftly knitting an 
  2.9378 +extra something into his name that boded him no good. 
  2.9379 +
  2.9380 +"Pardon me; certainly it was I who said so, but you naturally think so. 
  2.9381 +Of course." 
  2.9382 +
  2.9383 +"I think?" returned madame, in a high voice. "I and my husband have 
  2.9384 +enough to do to keep this wine-shop open, without thinking. All we 
  2.9385 +think, here, is how to live. That is the subject we think of, and it gives us, 
  2.9386 +
  2.9387 +
  2.9388 +
  2.9389 +185 
  2.9390 +
  2.9391 +
  2.9392 +
  2.9393 +from morning to night, enough to think about, without embarrassing our 
  2.9394 +heads concerning others. I think for others? No, no." 
  2.9395 +
  2.9396 +The spy, who was there to pick up any crumbs he could find or make, 
  2.9397 +did not allow his baffled state to express itself in his sinister face; but, 
  2.9398 +stood with an air of gossiping gallantry, leaning his elbow on Madame 
  2.9399 +Defarge's little counter, and occasionally sipping his cognac. 
  2.9400 +
  2.9401 +"A bad business this, madame, of Gaspard's execution. Ah! the poor 
  2.9402 +Gaspard!" With a sigh of great compassion. 
  2.9403 +
  2.9404 +"My faith!" returned madame, coolly and lightly, "if people use knives 
  2.9405 +for such purposes, they have to pay for it. He knew beforehand what the 
  2.9406 +price of his luxury was; he has paid the price." 
  2.9407 +
  2.9408 +"I believe," said the spy, dropping his soft voice to a tone that invited 
  2.9409 +confidence, and expressing an injured revolutionary susceptibility in 
  2.9410 +every muscle of his wicked face: "I believe there is much compassion and 
  2.9411 +anger in this neighbourhood, touching the poor fellow? Between 
  2.9412 +ourselves." 
  2.9413 +
  2.9414 +"Is there?" asked madame, vacantly. 
  2.9415 +
  2.9416 +"Is there not?" 
  2.9417 +
  2.9418 +" - Here is my husband!" said Madame Defarge. 
  2.9419 +
  2.9420 +As the keeper of the wine-shop entered at the door, the spy saluted 
  2.9421 +him by touching his hat, and saying, with an engaging smile, "Good day, 
  2.9422 +Jacques!" Defarge stopped short, and stared at him. 
  2.9423 +
  2.9424 +"Good day, Jacques!" the spy repeated; with not quite so much confid- 
  2.9425 +ence, or quite so easy a smile under the stare. 
  2.9426 +
  2.9427 +"You deceive yourself, monsieur," returned the keeper of the wine- 
  2.9428 +shop. "You mistake me for another. That is not my name. I am Ernest 
  2.9429 +Defarge." 
  2.9430 +
  2.9431 +"It is all the same," said the spy, airily, but discomfited too: "good 
  2.9432 +day!" 
  2.9433 +
  2.9434 +"Good day!" answered Defarge, drily. 
  2.9435 +
  2.9436 +"I was saying to madame, with whom I had the pleasure of chatting 
  2.9437 +when you entered, that they tell me there is - and no wonder! - much 
  2.9438 +sympathy and anger in Saint Antoine, touching the unhappy fate of poor 
  2.9439 +Gaspard." 
  2.9440 +
  2.9441 +"No one has told me so," said Defarge, shaking his head. "I know 
  2.9442 +nothing of it." 
  2.9443 +
  2.9444 +
  2.9445 +
  2.9446 +186 
  2.9447 +
  2.9448 +
  2.9449 +
  2.9450 +Having said it, he passed behind the little counter, and stood with his 
  2.9451 +hand on the back of his wife's chair, looking over that barrier at the per- 
  2.9452 +son to whom they were both opposed, and whom either of them would 
  2.9453 +have shot with the greatest satisfaction. 
  2.9454 +
  2.9455 +The spy, well used to his business, did not change his unconscious atti- 
  2.9456 +tude, but drained his little glass of cognac, took a sip of fresh water, and 
  2.9457 +asked for another glass of cognac. Madame Defarge poured it out for 
  2.9458 +him, took to her knitting again, and hummed a little song over it. 
  2.9459 +
  2.9460 +"You seem to know this quarter well; that is to say, better than I do?" 
  2.9461 +observed Defarge. 
  2.9462 +
  2.9463 +"Not at all, but I hope to know it better. I am so profoundly interested 
  2.9464 +in its miserable inhabitants." 
  2.9465 +
  2.9466 +"Hah!" muttered Defarge. 
  2.9467 +
  2.9468 +"The pleasure of conversing with you, Monsieur Defarge, recalls to 
  2.9469 +me," pursued the spy, "that I have the honour of cherishing some inter- 
  2.9470 +esting associations with your name." 
  2.9471 +
  2.9472 +"Indeed!" said Defarge, with much indifference. 
  2.9473 +
  2.9474 +"Yes, indeed. When Doctor Manette was released, you, his old do- 
  2.9475 +mestic, had the charge of him, I know. He was delivered to you. You see 
  2.9476 +I am informed of the circumstances?" 
  2.9477 +
  2.9478 +"Such is the fact, certainly," said Defarge. He had had it conveyed to 
  2.9479 +him, in an accidental touch of his wife's elbow as she knitted and 
  2.9480 +warbled, that he would do best to answer, but always with brevity. 
  2.9481 +
  2.9482 +"It was to you," said the spy, "that his daughter came; and it was from 
  2.9483 +your care that his daughter took him, accompanied by a neat brown 
  2.9484 +monsieur; how is he called? - in a little wig - Lorry - of the bank of Tell- 
  2.9485 +son and Company - over to England." 
  2.9486 +
  2.9487 +"Such is the fact," repeated Defarge. 
  2.9488 +
  2.9489 +"Very interesting remembrances!" said the spy. "I have known Doctor 
  2.9490 +Manette and his daughter, in England." 
  2.9491 +
  2.9492 +"Yes?" said Defarge. 
  2.9493 +
  2.9494 +"You don't hear much about them now?" said the spy. 
  2.9495 +
  2.9496 +"No," said Defarge. 
  2.9497 +
  2.9498 +"In effect," madame struck in, looking up from her work and her little 
  2.9499 +song, "we never hear about them. We received the news of their safe ar- 
  2.9500 +rival, and perhaps another letter, or perhaps two; but, since then, they 
  2.9501 +
  2.9502 +
  2.9503 +
  2.9504 +187 
  2.9505 +
  2.9506 +
  2.9507 +
  2.9508 +have gradually taken their road in life - we, ours - and we have held no 
  2.9509 +correspondence . " 
  2.9510 +
  2.9511 +"Perfectly so, madame," replied the spy. "She is going to be married." 
  2.9512 +
  2.9513 +"Going?" echoed madame. "She was pretty enough to have been mar- 
  2.9514 +ried long ago. You English are cold, it seems to me." 
  2.9515 +
  2.9516 +"Oh! You know I am English." 
  2.9517 +
  2.9518 +"I perceive your tongue is," returned madame; "and what the tongue 
  2.9519 +is, I suppose the man is." 
  2.9520 +
  2.9521 +He did not take the identification as a compliment; but he made the 
  2.9522 +best of it, and turned it off with a laugh. After sipping his cognac to the 
  2.9523 +end, he added: 
  2.9524 +
  2.9525 +"Yes, Miss Manette is going to be married. But not to an Englishman; 
  2.9526 +to one who, like herself, is French by birth. And speaking of Gaspard (ah, 
  2.9527 +poor Gaspard! It was cruel, cruel!), it is a curious thing that she is going 
  2.9528 +to marry the nephew of Monsieur the Marquis, for whom Gaspard was 
  2.9529 +exalted to that height of so many feet; in other words, the present Mar- 
  2.9530 +quis. But he lives unknown in England, he is no Marquis there; he is Mr. 
  2.9531 +Charles Darnay. D'Aulnais is the name of his mother's family." 
  2.9532 +
  2.9533 +Madame Defarge knitted steadily, but the intelligence had a palpable 
  2.9534 +effect upon her husband. Do what he would, behind the little counter, as 
  2.9535 +to the striking of a light and the lighting of his pipe, he was troubled, and 
  2.9536 +his hand was not trustworthy. The spy would have been no spy if he had 
  2.9537 +failed to see it, or to record it in his mind. 
  2.9538 +
  2.9539 +Having made, at least, this one hit, whatever it might prove to be 
  2.9540 +worth, and no customers coming in to help him to any other, Mr. Barsad 
  2.9541 +paid for what he had drunk, and took his leave: taking occasion to say, in 
  2.9542 +a genteel manner, before he departed, that he looked forward to the 
  2.9543 +pleasure of seeing Monsieur and Madame Defarge again. For some 
  2.9544 +minutes after he had emerged into the outer presence of Saint Antoine, 
  2.9545 +the husband and wife remained exactly as he had left them, lest he 
  2.9546 +should come back. 
  2.9547 +
  2.9548 +"Can it be true," said Defarge, in a low voice, looking down at his wife 
  2.9549 +as he stood smoking with his hand on the back of her chair: "what he has 
  2.9550 +said of Ma'amselle Manette?" 
  2.9551 +
  2.9552 +"As he has said it," returned madame, lifting her eyebrows a little, "it 
  2.9553 +is probably false. But it may be true." 
  2.9554 +
  2.9555 +"If it is - " Defarge began, and stopped. 
  2.9556 +
  2.9557 +
  2.9558 +
  2.9559 +188 
  2.9560 +
  2.9561 +
  2.9562 +
  2.9563 +"If it is?" repeated his wife. 
  2.9564 +
  2.9565 +" - And if it does come, while we live to see it triumph - I hope, for her 
  2.9566 +sake, Destiny will keep her husband out of France." 
  2.9567 +
  2.9568 +"Her husband's destiny," said Madame Defarge, with her usual com- 
  2.9569 +posure, "will take him where he is to go, and will lead him to the end 
  2.9570 +that is to end him. That is all I know." 
  2.9571 +
  2.9572 +"But it is very strange - now, at least, is it not very strange" - said De- 
  2.9573 +farge, rather pleading with his wife to induce her to admit it, "that, after 
  2.9574 +all our sympathy for Monsieur her father, and herself, her husband's 
  2.9575 +name should be proscribed under your hand at this moment, by the side 
  2.9576 +of that infernal dog's who has just left us?" 
  2.9577 +
  2.9578 +"Stranger things than that will happen when it does come," answered 
  2.9579 +madame. "I have them both here, of a certainty; and they are both here 
  2.9580 +for their merits; that is enough." 
  2.9581 +
  2.9582 +She roiled up her knitting when she had said those words, and 
  2.9583 +presently took the rose out of the handkerchief that was wound about 
  2.9584 +her head. Either Saint Antoine had an instinctive sense that the objection- 
  2.9585 +able decoration was gone, or Saint Antoine was on the watch for its dis- 
  2.9586 +appearance; howbeit, the Saint took courage to lounge in, very shortly af- 
  2.9587 +terwards, and the wine-shop recovered its habitual aspect. 
  2.9588 +
  2.9589 +In the evening, at which season of all others Saint Antoine turned him- 
  2.9590 +self inside out, and sat on door-steps and window-ledges, and came to 
  2.9591 +the corners of vile streets and courts, for a breath of air, Madame Defarge 
  2.9592 +with her work in her hand was accustomed to pass from place to place 
  2.9593 +and from group to group: a Missionary - there were many like 
  2.9594 +her - such as the world will do well never to breed again. All the women 
  2.9595 +knitted. They knitted worthless things; but, the mechanical work was a 
  2.9596 +mechanical substitute for eating and drinking; the hands moved for the 
  2.9597 +jaws and the digestive apparatus: if the bony fingers had been still, the 
  2.9598 +stomachs would have been more famine-pinched. 
  2.9599 +
  2.9600 +But, as the fingers went, the eyes went, and the thoughts. And as Ma- 
  2.9601 +dame Defarge moved on from group to group, all three went quicker 
  2.9602 +and fiercer among every little knot of women that she had spoken with, 
  2.9603 +and left behind. 
  2.9604 +
  2.9605 +Her husband smoked at his door, looking after her with admiration. 
  2.9606 +"A great woman," said he, "a strong woman, a grand woman, a fright- 
  2.9607 +fully grand woman!" 
  2.9608 +
  2.9609 +
  2.9610 +
  2.9611 +189 
  2.9612 +
  2.9613 +
  2.9614 +
  2.9615 +Darkness closed around, and then came the ringing of church bells 
  2.9616 +and the distant beating of the military drums in the Palace Courtyard, as 
  2.9617 +the women sat knitting, knitting. Darkness encompassed them. Another 
  2.9618 +darkness was closing in as surely, when the church bells, then ringing 
  2.9619 +pleasantly in many an airy steeple over France, should be melted into 
  2.9620 +thundering cannon; when the military drums should be beating to 
  2.9621 +drown a wretched voice, that night all potent as the voice of Power and 
  2.9622 +Plenty, Freedom and Life. So much was closing in about the women who 
  2.9623 +sat knitting, knitting, that they their very selves were closing in around a 
  2.9624 +structure yet unbuilt, where they were to sit knitting, knitting, counting 
  2.9625 +dropping heads. 
  2.9626 +
  2.9627 +
  2.9628 +
  2.9629 +190 
  2.9630 +
  2.9631 +
  2.9632 +
  2.9633 +Chapter 
  2.9634 +
  2.9635 +
  2.9636 +
  2.9637 +17 
  2.9638 +
  2.9639 +
  2.9640 +
  2.9641 +One Night 
  2.9642 +
  2.9643 +Never did the sun go down with a brighter glory on the quiet corner in 
  2.9644 +Soho, than one memorable evening when the Doctor and his daughter 
  2.9645 +sat under the plane-tree together. Never did the moon rise with a milder 
  2.9646 +radiance over great London, than on that night when it found them still 
  2.9647 +seated under the tree, and shone upon their faces through its leaves. 
  2.9648 +
  2.9649 +Lucie was to be married to-morrow. She had reserved this last evening 
  2.9650 +for her father, and they sat alone under the plane-tree. 
  2.9651 +
  2.9652 +"You are happy, my dear father?" 
  2.9653 +
  2.9654 +"Quite, my child." 
  2.9655 +
  2.9656 +They had said little, though they had been there a long time. When it 
  2.9657 +was yet light enough to work and read, she had neither engaged herself 
  2.9658 +in her usual work, nor had she read to him. She had employed herself in 
  2.9659 +both ways, at his side under the tree, many and many a time; but, this 
  2.9660 +time was not quite like any other, and nothing could make it so. 
  2.9661 +
  2.9662 +"And I am very happy to-night, dear father. I am deeply happy in the 
  2.9663 +love that Heaven has so blessed - my love for Charles, and Charles's 
  2.9664 +love for me. But, if my life were not to be still consecrated to you, or if 
  2.9665 +my marriage were so arranged as that it would part us, even by the 
  2.9666 +length of a few of these streets, I should be more unhappy and self-re- 
  2.9667 +proachful now than I can tell you. Even as it is - " 
  2.9668 +
  2.9669 +Even as it was, she could not command her voice. 
  2.9670 +
  2.9671 +In the sad moonlight, she clasped him by the neck, and laid her face 
  2.9672 +upon his breast. In the moonlight which is always sad, as the light of the 
  2.9673 +sun itself is - as the light called human life is - at its coming and its 
  2.9674 +going. 
  2.9675 +
  2.9676 +"Dearest dear! Can you tell me, this last time, that you feel quite, quite 
  2.9677 +sure, no new affections of mine, and no new duties of mine, will ever 
  2.9678 +
  2.9679 +
  2.9680 +
  2.9681 +191 
  2.9682 +
  2.9683 +
  2.9684 +
  2.9685 +interpose between us? I know it well, but do you know it? In your own 
  2.9686 +heart, do you feel quite certain?" 
  2.9687 +
  2.9688 +Her father answered, with a cheerful firmness of conviction he could 
  2.9689 +scarcely have assumed, "Quite sure, my darling! More than that," he ad- 
  2.9690 +ded, as he tenderly kissed her: "my future is far brighter, Lucie, seen 
  2.9691 +through your marriage, than it could have been - nay, than it ever 
  2.9692 +was - without it." 
  2.9693 +
  2.9694 +"If I could hope that, my father! - " 
  2.9695 +
  2.9696 +"Believe it, love! Indeed it is so. Consider how natural and how plain it 
  2.9697 +is, my dear, that it should be so. You, devoted and young, cannot fully 
  2.9698 +appreciate the anxiety I have felt that your life should not be wasted - " 
  2.9699 +
  2.9700 +She moved her hand towards his lips, but he took it in his, and re- 
  2.9701 +peated the word. 
  2.9702 +
  2.9703 +" - wasted, my child - should not be wasted, struck aside from the nat- 
  2.9704 +ural order of things - for my sake. Your unselfishness cannot entirely 
  2.9705 +comprehend how much my mind has gone on this; but, only ask your- 
  2.9706 +self, how could my happiness be perfect, while yours was incomplete?" 
  2.9707 +
  2.9708 +"If I had never seen Charles, my father, I should have been quite 
  2.9709 +happy with you." 
  2.9710 +
  2.9711 +He smiled at her unconscious admission that she would have been un- 
  2.9712 +happy without Charles, having seen him; and replied: 
  2.9713 +
  2.9714 +"My child, you did see him, and it is Charles. If it had not been 
  2.9715 +Charles, it would have been another. Or, if it had been no other, I should 
  2.9716 +have been the cause, and then the dark part of my life would have cast 
  2.9717 +its shadow beyond myself, and would have fallen on you." 
  2.9718 +
  2.9719 +It was the first time, except at the trial, of her ever hearing him refer to 
  2.9720 +the period of his suffering. It gave her a strange and new sensation while 
  2.9721 +his words were in her ears; and she remembered it long afterwards. 
  2.9722 +
  2.9723 +"See!" said the Doctor of Beauvais, raising his hand towards the moon. 
  2.9724 +"I have looked at her from my prison-window, when I could not bear her 
  2.9725 +light. I have looked at her when it has been such torture to me to think of 
  2.9726 +her shining upon what I had lost, that I have beaten my head against my 
  2.9727 +prison-walls. I have looked at her, in a state so dun and lethargic, that I 
  2.9728 +have thought of nothing but the number of horizontal lines I could draw 
  2.9729 +across her at the full, and the number of perpendicular lines with which I 
  2.9730 +could intersect them." He added in his inward and pondering manner, 
  2.9731 +as he looked at the moon, "It was twenty either way, I remember, and 
  2.9732 +the twentieth was difficult to squeeze in." 
  2.9733 +
  2.9734 +
  2.9735 +
  2.9736 +192 
  2.9737 +
  2.9738 +
  2.9739 +
  2.9740 +The strange thrill with which she heard him go back to that time, 
  2.9741 +deepened as he dwelt upon it; but, there was nothing to shock her in the 
  2.9742 +manner of his reference. He only seemed to contrast his present cheerful- 
  2.9743 +ness and felicity with the dire endurance that was over. 
  2.9744 +
  2.9745 +"I have looked at her, speculating thousands of times upon the unborn 
  2.9746 +child from whom I had been rent. Whether it was alive. Whether it had 
  2.9747 +been born alive, or the poor mother's shock had killed it. Whether it was 
  2.9748 +a son who would some day avenge his father. (There was a time in my 
  2.9749 +imprisonment, when my desire for vengeance was unbearable.) Whether 
  2.9750 +it was a son who would never know his father's story; who might even 
  2.9751 +live to weigh the possibility of his father's having disappeared of his 
  2.9752 +own will and act. Whether it was a daughter who would grow to be a 
  2.9753 +
  2.9754 +
  2.9755 +
  2.9756 +woman." 
  2.9757 +
  2.9758 +
  2.9759 +
  2.9760 +She drew closer to him, and kissed his cheek and his hand. 
  2.9761 +
  2.9762 +"I have pictured my daughter, to myself, as perfectly forgetful of me 
  2.9763 +- rather, altogether ignorant of me, and unconscious of me. I have cast 
  2.9764 +up the years of her age, year after year. I have seen her married to a man 
  2.9765 +who knew nothing of my fate. I have altogether perished from the re- 
  2.9766 +membrance of the living, and in the next generation my place was a 
  2.9767 +blank." 
  2.9768 +
  2.9769 +"My father! Even to hear that you had such thoughts of a daughter 
  2.9770 +who never existed, strikes to my heart as if I had been that child." 
  2.9771 +
  2.9772 +"You, Lucie? It is out of the Consolation and restoration you have 
  2.9773 +brought to me, that these remembrances arise, and pass between us and 
  2.9774 +the moon on this last night. - What did I say just now?" 
  2.9775 +
  2.9776 +"She knew nothing of you. She cared nothing for you." 
  2.9777 +
  2.9778 +"So! But on other moonlight nights, when the sadness and the silence 
  2.9779 +have touched me in a different way - have affected me with something 
  2.9780 +as like a sorrowful sense of peace, as any emotion that had pain for its 
  2.9781 +foundations could - I have imagined her as coming to me in my cell, and 
  2.9782 +leading me out into the freedom beyond the fortress. I have seen her im- 
  2.9783 +age in the moonlight often, as I now see you; except that I never held her 
  2.9784 +in my arms; it stood between the little grated window and the door. But, 
  2.9785 +you understand that that was not the child I am speaking of?" 
  2.9786 +
  2.9787 +"The figure was not; the - the - image; the fancy?" 
  2.9788 +
  2.9789 +"No. That was another thing. It stood before my disturbed sense of 
  2.9790 +sight, but it never moved. The phantom that my mind pursued, was an- 
  2.9791 +other and more real child. Of her outward appearance I know no more 
  2.9792 +
  2.9793 +
  2.9794 +
  2.9795 +193 
  2.9796 +
  2.9797 +
  2.9798 +
  2.9799 +than that she was like her mother. The other had that likeness too - as 
  2.9800 +you have - but was not the same. Can you follow me, Lucie? Hardly, I 
  2.9801 +think? I doubt you must have been a solitary prisoner to understand 
  2.9802 +these perplexed distinctions." 
  2.9803 +
  2.9804 +His collected and calm manner could not prevent her blood from run- 
  2.9805 +ning cold, as he thus tried to anatomise his old condition. 
  2.9806 +
  2.9807 +"In that more peaceful state, I have imagined her, in the moonlight, 
  2.9808 +coming to me and taking me out to show me that the home of her mar- 
  2.9809 +ried life was full of her loving remembrance of her lost father. My picture 
  2.9810 +was in her room, and I was in her prayers. Her life was active, cheerful, 
  2.9811 +useful; but my poor history pervaded it all." 
  2.9812 +
  2.9813 +"I was that child, my father, I was not half so good, but in my love that 
  2.9814 +was I." 
  2.9815 +
  2.9816 +"And she showed me her children," said the Doctor of Beauvais, "and 
  2.9817 +they had heard of me, and had been taught to pity me. When they 
  2.9818 +passed a prison of the State, they kept far from its frowning walls, and 
  2.9819 +looked up at its bars, and spoke in whispers. She could never deliver me; 
  2.9820 +I imagined that she always brought me back after showing me such 
  2.9821 +things. But then, blessed with the relief of tears, I fell upon my knees, 
  2.9822 +and blessed her." 
  2.9823 +
  2.9824 +"I am that child, I hope, my father. O my dear, my dear, will you bless 
  2.9825 +me as fervently to-morrow?" 
  2.9826 +
  2.9827 +"Lucie, I recall these old troubles in the reason that I have to-night for 
  2.9828 +loving you better than words can tell, and thanking God for my great 
  2.9829 +happiness. My thoughts, when they were wildest, never rose near the 
  2.9830 +happiness that I have known with you, and that we have before us." 
  2.9831 +
  2.9832 +He embraced her, solemnly commended her to Heaven, and humbly 
  2.9833 +thanked Heaven for having bestowed her on him. By-and-bye, they went 
  2.9834 +into the house. 
  2.9835 +
  2.9836 +There was no one bidden to the marriage but Mr. Lorry; there was 
  2.9837 +even to be no bridesmaid but the gaunt Miss Pross. The marriage was to 
  2.9838 +make no change in their place of residence; they had been able to extend 
  2.9839 +it, by taking to themselves the upper rooms formerly belonging to the 
  2.9840 +apocryphal invisible lodger, and they desired nothing more. 
  2.9841 +
  2.9842 +Doctor Manette was very cheerful at the little supper. They were only 
  2.9843 +three at table, and Miss Pross made the third. He regretted that Charles 
  2.9844 +was not there; was more than half disposed to object to the loving little 
  2.9845 +plot that kept him away; and drank to him affectionately. 
  2.9846 +
  2.9847 +
  2.9848 +
  2.9849 +194 
  2.9850 +
  2.9851 +
  2.9852 +
  2.9853 +So, the time came for him to bid Lucie good night, and they separated. 
  2.9854 +But, in the stillness of the third hour of the morning, Lucie came down- 
  2.9855 +stairs again, and stole into his room; not free from unshaped fears, 
  2.9856 +beforehand. 
  2.9857 +
  2.9858 +All things, however, were in their places; all was quiet; and he lay 
  2.9859 +asleep, his white hair picturesque on the untroubled pillow, and his 
  2.9860 +hands lying quiet on the coverlet. She put her needless candle in the 
  2.9861 +shadow at a distance, crept up to his bed, and put her lips to his; then, 
  2.9862 +leaned over him, and looked at him. 
  2.9863 +
  2.9864 +Into his handsome face, the bitter waters of captivity had worn; but, he 
  2.9865 +covered up their tracks with a determination so strong, that he held the 
  2.9866 +mastery of them even in his sleep. A more remarkable face in its quiet, 
  2.9867 +resolute, and guarded struggle with an unseen assailant, was not to be 
  2.9868 +beheld in all the wide dominions of sleep, that night. 
  2.9869 +
  2.9870 +She timidly laid her hand on his dear breast, and put up a prayer that 
  2.9871 +she might ever be as true to him as her love aspired to be, and as his sor- 
  2.9872 +rows deserved. Then, she withdrew her hand, and kissed his lips once 
  2.9873 +more, and went away. So, the sunrise came, and the shadows of the 
  2.9874 +leaves of the plane-tree moved upon his face, as softly as her lips had 
  2.9875 +moved in praying for him. 
  2.9876 +
  2.9877 +
  2.9878 +
  2.9879 +195 
  2.9880 +
  2.9881 +
  2.9882 +
  2.9883 +Chapter 
  2.9884 +
  2.9885 +
  2.9886 +
  2.9887 +18 
  2.9888 +
  2.9889 +
  2.9890 +
  2.9891 +Nine Days 
  2.9892 +
  2.9893 +The marriage-day was shining brightly, and they were ready outside 
  2.9894 +the closed door of the Doctor's room, where he was speaking with 
  2.9895 +Charles Darnay. They were ready to go to church; the beautiful bride, 
  2.9896 +Mr. Lorry, and Miss Pross - to whom the event, through a gradual pro- 
  2.9897 +cess of reconcilement to the inevitable, would have been one of absolute 
  2.9898 +bliss, but for the yet lingering consideration that her brother Solomon 
  2.9899 +should have been the bridegroom. 
  2.9900 +
  2.9901 +"And so," said Mr. Lorry, who could not sufficiently admire the bride, 
  2.9902 +and who had been moving round her to take in every point of her quiet, 
  2.9903 +pretty dress; "and so it was for this, my sweet Lucie, that I brought you 
  2.9904 +across the Channel, such a baby' Lord bless me' How little I thought 
  2.9905 +what I was doing! How lightly I valued the obligation I was conferring 
  2.9906 +on my friend Mr. Charles!" 
  2.9907 +
  2.9908 +"You didn't mean it," remarked the matter-of-fact Miss Pross, "and 
  2.9909 +therefore how could you know it? Nonsense!" 
  2.9910 +
  2.9911 +"Really? Well; but don't cry," said the gentle Mr. Lorry. 
  2.9912 +
  2.9913 +"I am not crying," said Miss Pross; "you are." 
  2.9914 +
  2.9915 +"I, my Pross?" (By this time, Mr. Lorry dared to be pleasant with her, 
  2.9916 +on occasion.) 
  2.9917 +
  2.9918 +"You were, just now; I saw you do it, and I don't wonder at it. Such a 
  2.9919 +present of plate as you have made 'em, is enough to bring tears into any- 
  2.9920 +body's eyes. There's not a fork or a spoon in the collection," said Miss 
  2.9921 +Pross, "that I didn't cry over, last night after the box came, till I couldn't 
  2.9922 +see it." 
  2.9923 +
  2.9924 +"I am highly gratified," said Mr. Lorry, "though, upon my honour, I 
  2.9925 +had no intention of rendering those trifling articles of remembrance in- 
  2.9926 +visible to any one. Dear me! This is an occasion that makes a man specu- 
  2.9927 +late on all he has lost. Dear, dear, dear! To think that there might have 
  2.9928 +been a Mrs. Lorry, any time these fifty years almost!" 
  2.9929 +
  2.9930 +
  2.9931 +
  2.9932 +196 
  2.9933 +
  2.9934 +
  2.9935 +
  2.9936 +"Not at all!" From Miss Pross. 
  2.9937 +
  2.9938 +"You think there never might have been a Mrs. Lorry?" asked the gen- 
  2.9939 +tleman of that name. 
  2.9940 +
  2.9941 +"Pooh!" rejoined Miss Pross; "you were a bachelor in your cradle." 
  2.9942 +
  2.9943 +"Well!" observed Mr. Lorry, beamingly adjusting his little wig, "that 
  2.9944 +seems probable, too." 
  2.9945 +
  2.9946 +"And you were cut out for a bachelor," pursued Miss Pross, "before 
  2.9947 +you were put in your cradle." 
  2.9948 +
  2.9949 +"Then, I think," said Mr. Lorry, "that I was very unhandsomely dealt 
  2.9950 +with, and that I ought to have had a voice in the selection of my pattern. 
  2.9951 +Enough! Now, my dear Lucie," drawing his arm soothingly round her 
  2.9952 +waist, "I hear them moving in the next room, and Miss Pross and I, as 
  2.9953 +two formal folks of business, are anxious not to lose the final opportunity 
  2.9954 +of saying something to you that you wish to hear. You leave your good 
  2.9955 +father, my dear, in hands as earnest and as loving as your own; he shall 
  2.9956 +be taken every conceivable care of; during the next fortnight, while you 
  2.9957 +are in Warwickshire and thereabouts, even Tellson's shall go to the wall 
  2.9958 +(comparatively speaking) before him. And when, at the fortnight's end, 
  2.9959 +he comes to join you and your beloved husband, on your other fort- 
  2.9960 +night's trip in Wales, you shall say that we have sent him to you in the 
  2.9961 +best health and in the happiest frame. Now, I hear Somebody's step com- 
  2.9962 +ing to the door. Let me kiss my dear girl with an old-fashioned bachelor 
  2.9963 +blessing, before Somebody comes to claim his own." 
  2.9964 +
  2.9965 +For a moment, he held the fair face from him to look at the well-re- 
  2.9966 +membered expression on the forehead, and then laid the bright golden 
  2.9967 +hair against his little brown wig, with a genuine tenderness and delicacy 
  2.9968 +which, if such things be old-fashioned, were as old as Adam. 
  2.9969 +
  2.9970 +The door of the Doctor's room opened, and he came out with Charles 
  2.9971 +Darnay. He was so deadly pale - which had not been the case when they 
  2.9972 +went in together - that no vestige of colour was to be seen in his face. 
  2.9973 +But, in the composure of his manner he was unaltered, except that to the 
  2.9974 +shrewd glance of Mr. Lorry it disclosed some shadowy indication that 
  2.9975 +the old air of avoidance and dread had lately passed over him, like a cold 
  2.9976 +wind. 
  2.9977 +
  2.9978 +He gave his arm to his daughter, and took her down-stairs to the 
  2.9979 +chariot which Mr. Lorry had hired in honour of the day. The rest fol- 
  2.9980 +lowed in another carriage, and soon, in a neighbouring church, where no 
  2.9981 +
  2.9982 +
  2.9983 +
  2.9984 +197 
  2.9985 +
  2.9986 +
  2.9987 +
  2.9988 +strange eyes looked on, Charles Darnay and Lucie Manette were happily 
  2.9989 +married. 
  2.9990 +
  2.9991 +Besides the glancing tears that shone among the smiles of the little 
  2.9992 +group when it was done, some diamonds, very bright and sparkling, 
  2.9993 +glanced on the bride's hand, which were newly released from the dark 
  2.9994 +obscurity of one of Mr. Lorry's pockets. They returned home to break- 
  2.9995 +fast, and all went well, and in due course the golden hair that had 
  2.9996 +mingled with the poor shoemaker's white locks in the Paris garret, were 
  2.9997 +mingled with them again in the morning sunlight, on the threshold of 
  2.9998 +the door at parting. 
  2.9999 +
 2.10000 +It was a hard parting, though it was not for long. But her father 
 2.10001 +cheered her, and said at last, gently disengaging himself from her enfold- 
 2.10002 +ing arms, "Take her, Charles! She is yours!" 
 2.10003 +
 2.10004 +And her agitated hand waved to them from a chaise window, and she 
 2.10005 +was gone. 
 2.10006 +
 2.10007 +The corner being out of the way of the idle and curious, and the pre- 
 2.10008 +parations having been very simple and few, the Doctor, Mr. Lorry, and 
 2.10009 +Miss Pross, were left quite alone. It was when they turned into the wel- 
 2.10010 +come shade of the cool old hall, that Mr. Lorry observed a great change 
 2.10011 +to have come over the Doctor; as if the golden arm uplifted there, had 
 2.10012 +struck him a poisoned blow. 
 2.10013 +
 2.10014 +He had naturally repressed much, and some revulsion might have 
 2.10015 +been expected in him when the occasion for repression was gone. But, it 
 2.10016 +was the old scared lost look that troubled Mr. Lorry; and through his ab- 
 2.10017 +sent manner of clasping his head and drearily wandering away into his 
 2.10018 +own room when they got up-stairs, Mr. Lorry was reminded of Defarge 
 2.10019 +the wine-shop keeper, and the starlight ride. 
 2.10020 +
 2.10021 +"I think," he whispered to Miss Pross, after anxious consideration, "I 
 2.10022 +think we had best not speak to him just now, or at all disturb him. I must 
 2.10023 +look in at Tellson's; so I will go there at once and come back presently. 
 2.10024 +Then, we will take him a ride into the country, and dine there, and all 
 2.10025 +will be well." 
 2.10026 +
 2.10027 +It was easier for Mr. Lorry to look in at Tellson's, than to look out of 
 2.10028 +Tellson's. He was detained two hours. When he came back, he ascended 
 2.10029 +the old staircase alone, having asked no question of the servant; going 
 2.10030 +thus into the Doctor's rooms, he was stopped by a low sound of 
 2.10031 +knocking. 
 2.10032 +
 2.10033 +"Good God!" he said, with a start. "What's that?" 
 2.10034 +
 2.10035 +
 2.10036 +
 2.10037 +198 
 2.10038 +
 2.10039 +
 2.10040 +
 2.10041 +Miss Pross, with a terrified face, was at his ear. "O me, O me! All is 
 2.10042 +lost!" cried she, wringing her hands. "What is to be told to Ladybird? He 
 2.10043 +doesn't know me, and is making shoes!" 
 2.10044 +
 2.10045 +Mr. Lorry said what he could to calm her, and went himself into the 
 2.10046 +Doctor's room. The bench was turned towards the light, as it had been 
 2.10047 +when he had seen the shoemaker at his work before, and his head was 
 2.10048 +bent down, and he was very busy. 
 2.10049 +
 2.10050 +"Doctor Manette. My dear friend, Doctor Manette!" 
 2.10051 +
 2.10052 +The Doctor looked at him for a moment - half inquiringly, half as if he 
 2.10053 +were angry at being spoken to - and bent over his work again. 
 2.10054 +
 2.10055 +He had laid aside his coat and waistcoat; his shirt was open at the 
 2.10056 +throat, as it used to be when he did that work; and even the old haggard, 
 2.10057 +faded surface of face had come back to him. He worked hard - impa- 
 2.10058 +tiently - as if in some sense of having been interrupted. 
 2.10059 +
 2.10060 +Mr. Lorry glanced at the work in his hand, and observed that it was a 
 2.10061 +shoe of the old size and shape. He took up another that was lying by 
 2.10062 +him, and asked what it was. 
 2.10063 +
 2.10064 +"A young lady's walking shoe," he muttered, without looking up. "It 
 2.10065 +ought to have been finished long ago. Let it be." 
 2.10066 +
 2.10067 +"But, Doctor Manette. Look at me!" 
 2.10068 +
 2.10069 +He obeyed, in the old mechanically submissive manner, without paus- 
 2.10070 +ing in his work. 
 2.10071 +
 2.10072 +"You know me, my dear friend? Think again. This is not your proper 
 2.10073 +occupation. Think, dear friend!" 
 2.10074 +
 2.10075 +Nothing would induce him to speak more. He looked up, for an in- 
 2.10076 +stant at a time, when he was requested to do so; but, no persuasion 
 2.10077 +would extract a word from him. He worked, and worked, and worked, 
 2.10078 +in silence, and words fell on him as they would have fallen on an echo- 
 2.10079 +less wall, or on the air. The only ray of hope that Mr. Lorry could discov- 
 2.10080 +er, was, that he sometimes furtively looked up without being asked. In 
 2.10081 +that, there seemed a faint expression of curiosity or perplexity - as 
 2.10082 +though he were trying to reconcile some doubts in his mind. 
 2.10083 +
 2.10084 +Two things at once impressed themselves on Mr. Lorry, as important 
 2.10085 +above all others; the first, that this must be kept secret from Lucie; the 
 2.10086 +second, that it must be kept secret from all who knew him. In conjunc- 
 2.10087 +tion with Miss Pross, he took immediate steps towards the latter precau- 
 2.10088 +tion, by giving out that the Doctor was not well, and required a few days 
 2.10089 +of complete rest. In aid of the kind deception to be practised on his 
 2.10090 +
 2.10091 +
 2.10092 +
 2.10093 +199 
 2.10094 +
 2.10095 +
 2.10096 +
 2.10097 +daughter, Miss Pross was to write, describing his having been called 
 2.10098 +away professionally, and referring to an imaginary letter of two or three 
 2.10099 +hurried lines in his own hand, represented to have been addressed to her 
 2.10100 +by the same post. 
 2.10101 +
 2.10102 +These measures, advisable to be taken in any case, Mr. Lorry took in 
 2.10103 +the hope of his coming to himself. If that should happen soon, he kept 
 2.10104 +another course in reserve; which was, to have a certain opinion that he 
 2.10105 +thought the best, on the Doctor's case. 
 2.10106 +
 2.10107 +In the hope of his recovery, and of resort to this third course being 
 2.10108 +thereby rendered practicable, Mr. Lorry resolved to watch him attent- 
 2.10109 +ively, with as little appearance as possible of doing so. He therefore 
 2.10110 +made arrangements to absent himself from Tellson's for the first time in 
 2.10111 +his life, and took his post by the window in the same room. 
 2.10112 +
 2.10113 +He was not long in discovering that it was worse than useless to speak 
 2.10114 +to him, since, on being pressed, he became worried. He abandoned that 
 2.10115 +attempt on the first day, and resolved merely to keep himself always be- 
 2.10116 +fore him, as a silent protest against the delusion into which he had fallen, 
 2.10117 +or was falling. He remained, therefore, in his seat near the window, read- 
 2.10118 +ing and writing, and expressing in as many pleasant and natural ways as 
 2.10119 +he could think of, that it was a free place. 
 2.10120 +
 2.10121 +Doctor Manette took what was given him to eat and drink, and 
 2.10122 +worked on, that first day, until it was too dark to see - worked on, half 
 2.10123 +an hour after Mr. Lorry could not have seen, for his life, to read or write. 
 2.10124 +When he put his tools aside as useless, until morning, Mr. Lorry rose and 
 2.10125 +said to him: 
 2.10126 +
 2.10127 +"Will you go out?" 
 2.10128 +
 2.10129 +He looked down at the floor on either side of him in the old manner, 
 2.10130 +looked up in the old manner, and repeated in the old low voice: 
 2.10131 +
 2.10132 +"Out?" 
 2.10133 +
 2.10134 +"Yes; for a walk with me. Why not?" 
 2.10135 +
 2.10136 +He made no effort to say why not, and said not a word more. But, Mr. 
 2.10137 +Lorry thought he saw, as he leaned forward on his bench in the dusk, 
 2.10138 +with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, that he was in 
 2.10139 +some misty way asking himself, "Why not?" The sagacity of the man of 
 2.10140 +business perceived an advantage here, and determined to hold it. 
 2.10141 +
 2.10142 +Miss Pross and he divided the night into two watches, and observed 
 2.10143 +him at intervals from the adjoining room. He paced up and down for a 
 2.10144 +long time before he lay down; but, when he did finally lay himself down, 
 2.10145 +
 2.10146 +
 2.10147 +
 2.10148 +200 
 2.10149 +
 2.10150 +
 2.10151 +
 2.10152 +he fell asleep. In the morning, he was up betimes, and went straight to 
 2.10153 +his bench and to work. 
 2.10154 +
 2.10155 +On this second day, Mr. Lorry saluted him cheerfully by his name, and 
 2.10156 +spoke to him on topics that had been of late familiar to them. He re- 
 2.10157 +turned no reply, but it was evident that he heard what was said, and that 
 2.10158 +he thought about it, however confusedly. This encouraged Mr. Lorry to 
 2.10159 +have Miss Pross in with her work, several times during the day; at those 
 2.10160 +times, they quietly spoke of Lucie, and of her father then present, pre- 
 2.10161 +cisely in the usual manner, and as if there were nothing amiss. This was 
 2.10162 +done without any demonstrative accompaniment, not long enough, or 
 2.10163 +often enough to harass him; and it lightened Mr. Lorry's friendly heart to 
 2.10164 +believe that he looked up oftener, and that he appeared to be stirred by 
 2.10165 +some perception of inconsistencies surrounding him. 
 2.10166 +
 2.10167 +When it fell dark again, Mr. Lorry asked him as before: 
 2.10168 +
 2.10169 +"Dear Doctor, will you go out?" 
 2.10170 +
 2.10171 +As before, he repeated, "Out?" 
 2.10172 +
 2.10173 +"Yes; for a walk with me. Why not?" 
 2.10174 +
 2.10175 +This time, Mr. Lorry feigned to go out when he could extract no an- 
 2.10176 +swer from him, and, after remaining absent for an hour, returned. In the 
 2.10177 +meanwhile, the Doctor had removed to the seat in the window, and had 
 2.10178 +sat there looking down at the plane-tree; but, on Mr. Lorry's return, be 
 2.10179 +slipped away to his bench. 
 2.10180 +
 2.10181 +The time went very slowly on, and Mr. Lorry's hope darkened, and his 
 2.10182 +heart grew heavier again, and grew yet heavier and heavier every day. 
 2.10183 +The third day came and went, the fourth, the fifth. Five days, six days, 
 2.10184 +seven days, eight days, nine days. 
 2.10185 +
 2.10186 +With a hope ever darkening, and with a heart always growing heavier 
 2.10187 +and heavier, Mr. Lorry passed through this anxious time. The secret was 
 2.10188 +well kept, and Lucie was unconscious and happy; but he could not fail to 
 2.10189 +observe that the shoemaker, whose hand had been a little out at first, 
 2.10190 +was growing dreadfully skilful, and that he had never been so intent on 
 2.10191 +his work, and that his hands had never been so nimble and expert, as in 
 2.10192 +the dusk of the ninth evening. 
 2.10193 +
 2.10194 +
 2.10195 +
 2.10196 +201 
 2.10197 +
 2.10198 +
 2.10199 +
 2.10200 +Chapter 
 2.10201 +
 2.10202 +
 2.10203 +
 2.10204 +19 
 2.10205 +
 2.10206 +
 2.10207 +
 2.10208 +An Opinion 
 2.10209 +
 2.10210 +Worn out by anxious watching, Mr. Lorry fell asleep at his post. On 
 2.10211 +the tenth morning of his suspense, he was startled by the shining of the 
 2.10212 +sun into the room where a heavy slumber had overtaken him when it 
 2.10213 +was dark night. 
 2.10214 +
 2.10215 +He rubbed his eyes and roused himself; but he doubted, when he had 
 2.10216 +done so, whether he was not still asleep. For, going to the door of the 
 2.10217 +Doctor's room and looking in, he perceived that the shoemaker's bench 
 2.10218 +and tools were put aside again, and that the Doctor himself sat reading at 
 2.10219 +the window. He was in his usual morning dress, and his face (which Mr. 
 2.10220 +Lorry could distinctly see), though still very pale, was calmly studious 
 2.10221 +and attentive. 
 2.10222 +
 2.10223 +Even when he had satisfied himself that he was awake, Mr. Lorry felt 
 2.10224 +giddily uncertain for some few moments whether the late shoemaking 
 2.10225 +might not be a disturbed dream of his own; for, did not his eyes show 
 2.10226 +him his friend before him in his accustomed clothing and aspect, and 
 2.10227 +employed as usual; and was there any sign within their range, that the 
 2.10228 +change of which he had so strong an impression had actually happened? 
 2.10229 +
 2.10230 +It was but the inquiry of his first confusion and astonishment, the an- 
 2.10231 +swer being obvious. If the impression were not produced by a real cor- 
 2.10232 +responding and sufficient cause, how came he, Jarvis Lorry, there? How 
 2.10233 +came he to have fallen asleep, in his clothes, on the sofa in Doctor 
 2.10234 +Manette's consulting-room, and to be debating these points outside the 
 2.10235 +Doctor's bedroom door in the early morning? 
 2.10236 +
 2.10237 +Within a few minutes, Miss Pross stood whispering at his side. If he 
 2.10238 +had had any particle of doubt left, her talk would of necessity have re- 
 2.10239 +solved it; but he was by that time clear-headed, and had none. He ad- 
 2.10240 +vised that they should let the time go by until the regular breakfast-hour, 
 2.10241 +and should then meet the Doctor as if nothing unusual had occurred. If 
 2.10242 +he appeared to be in his customary state of mind, Mr. Lorry would then 
 2.10243 +
 2.10244 +
 2.10245 +
 2.10246 +202 
 2.10247 +
 2.10248 +
 2.10249 +
 2.10250 +cautiously proceed to seek direction and guidance from the opinion he 
 2.10251 +had been, in his anxiety, so anxious to obtain. 
 2.10252 +
 2.10253 +Miss Pross, submitting herself to his judgment, the scheme was 
 2.10254 +worked out with care. Having abundance of time for his usual methodic- 
 2.10255 +al toilette, Mr. Lorry presented himself at the breakfast-hour in his usual 
 2.10256 +white linen, and with his usual neat leg. The Doctor was summoned in 
 2.10257 +the usual way, and came to breakfast. 
 2.10258 +
 2.10259 +So far as it was possible to comprehend him without overstepping 
 2.10260 +those delicate and gradual approaches which Mr. Lorry felt to be the 
 2.10261 +only safe advance, he at first supposed that his daughter's marriage had 
 2.10262 +taken place yesterday. An incidental allusion, purposely thrown out, to 
 2.10263 +the day of the week, and the day of the month, set him thinking and 
 2.10264 +counting, and evidently made him uneasy. In all other respects, 
 2.10265 +however, he was so composedly himself, that Mr. Lorry determined to 
 2.10266 +have the aid he sought. And that aid was his own. 
 2.10267 +
 2.10268 +Therefore, when the breakfast was done and cleared away, and he and 
 2.10269 +the Doctor were left together, Mr. Lorry said, feelingly: 
 2.10270 +
 2.10271 +"My dear Manette, I am anxious to have your opinion, in confidence, 
 2.10272 +on a very curious case in which I am deeply interested; that is to say, it is 
 2.10273 +very curious to me; perhaps, to your better information it may be less 
 2.10274 +so." 
 2.10275 +
 2.10276 +Glancing at his hands, which were discoloured by his late work, the 
 2.10277 +Doctor looked troubled, and listened attentively. He had already glanced 
 2.10278 +at his hands more than once. 
 2.10279 +
 2.10280 +"Doctor Manette," said Mr. Lorry, touching him affectionately on the 
 2.10281 +arm, "the case is the case of a particularly dear friend of mine. Pray give 
 2.10282 +your mind to it, and advise me well for his sake - and above all, for his 
 2.10283 +daughter's - his daughter's, my dear Manette." 
 2.10284 +
 2.10285 +"If I understand," said the Doctor, in a subdued tone, "some mental 
 2.10286 +shock-?" 
 2.10287 +
 2.10288 +"Yes!" 
 2.10289 +
 2.10290 +"Be explicit," said the Doctor. "Spare no detail." 
 2.10291 +
 2.10292 +Mr. Lorry saw that they understood one another, and proceeded. 
 2.10293 +
 2.10294 +"My dear Manette, it is the case of an old and a prolonged shock, of 
 2.10295 +great acuteness and severity to the affections, the feelings, the - the - as 
 2.10296 +you express it - the mind. The mind. It is the case of a shock under which 
 2.10297 +the sufferer was borne down, one cannot say for how long, because I be- 
 2.10298 +lieve he cannot calculate the time himself, and there are no other means 
 2.10299 +
 2.10300 +
 2.10301 +
 2.10302 +203 
 2.10303 +
 2.10304 +
 2.10305 +
 2.10306 +of getting at it. It is the case of a shock from which the sufferer recovered, 
 2.10307 +by a process that he cannot trace himself - as I once heard him publicly 
 2.10308 +relate in a striking manner. It is the case of a shock from which he has re- 
 2.10309 +covered, so completely, as to be a highly intelligent man, capable of close 
 2.10310 +application of mind, and great exertion of body, and of constantly mak- 
 2.10311 +ing fresh additions to his stock of knowledge, which was already very 
 2.10312 +large. But, unfortunately, there has been," he paused and took a deep 
 2.10313 +breath - "a slight relapse." 
 2.10314 +
 2.10315 +The Doctor, in a low voice, asked, "Of how long duration?" 
 2.10316 +
 2.10317 +"Nine days and nights." 
 2.10318 +
 2.10319 +"How did it show itself? I infer," glancing at his hands again, "in the 
 2.10320 +resumption of some old pursuit connected with the shock?" 
 2.10321 +
 2.10322 +"That is the fact." 
 2.10323 +
 2.10324 +"Now, did you ever see him," asked the Doctor, distinctly and collec- 
 2.10325 +tedly, though in the same low voice, "engaged in that pursuit 
 2.10326 +originally?" 
 2.10327 +
 2.10328 +"Once." 
 2.10329 +
 2.10330 +"And when the relapse fell on him, was he in most respects - or in all 
 2.10331 +respects - as he was then?" 
 2.10332 +
 2.10333 +"I think in all respects." 
 2.10334 +
 2.10335 +"You spoke of his daughter. Does his daughter know of the relapse?" 
 2.10336 +
 2.10337 +"No. It has been kept from her, and I hope will always be kept from 
 2.10338 +her. It is known only to myself, and to one other who may be trusted." 
 2.10339 +
 2.10340 +The Doctor grasped his hand, and murmured, "That was very kind. 
 2.10341 +That was very thoughtful!" Mr. Lorry grasped his hand in return, and 
 2.10342 +neither of the two spoke for a little while. 
 2.10343 +
 2.10344 +"Now, my dear Manette," said Mr. Lorry, at length, in his most con- 
 2.10345 +siderate and most affectionate way, "I am a mere man of business, and 
 2.10346 +unfit to cope with such intricate and difficult matters. I do not possess 
 2.10347 +the kind of information necessary; I do not possess the kind of intelli- 
 2.10348 +gence; I want guiding. There is no man in this world on whom I could so 
 2.10349 +rely for right guidance, as on you. Tell me, how does this relapse come 
 2.10350 +about? Is there danger of another? Could a repetition of it be prevented? 
 2.10351 +How should a repetition of it be treated? How does it come about at all? 
 2.10352 +What can I do for my friend? No man ever can have been more desirous 
 2.10353 +in his heart to serve a friend, than I am to serve mine, if I knew how. 
 2.10354 +
 2.10355 +
 2.10356 +
 2.10357 +204 
 2.10358 +
 2.10359 +
 2.10360 +
 2.10361 +But I don't know how to originate, in such a case. If your sagacity, 
 2.10362 +knowledge, and experience, could put me on the right track, I might be 
 2.10363 +able to do so much; unenlightened and undirected, I can do so little. Pray 
 2.10364 +discuss it with me; pray enable me to see it a little more clearly, and 
 2.10365 +teach me how to be a little more useful." 
 2.10366 +
 2.10367 +Doctor Manette sat meditating after these earnest words were spoken, 
 2.10368 +and Mr. Lorry did not press him. 
 2.10369 +
 2.10370 +"I think it probable," said the Doctor, breaking silence with an effort, 
 2.10371 +"that the relapse you have described, my dear friend, was not quite un- 
 2.10372 +foreseen by its subject." 
 2.10373 +
 2.10374 +"Was it dreaded by him?" Mr. Lorry ventured to ask. 
 2.10375 +
 2.10376 +"Very much." He said it with an involuntary shudder. 
 2.10377 +
 2.10378 +"You have no idea how such an apprehension weighs on the sufferer's 
 2.10379 +mind, and how difficult - how almost impossible - it is, for him to force 
 2.10380 +himself to utter a word upon the topic that oppresses him." 
 2.10381 +
 2.10382 +"Would he," asked Mr. Lorry, "be sensibly relieved if he could prevail 
 2.10383 +upon himself to impart that secret brooding to any one, when it is on 
 2.10384 +him?" 
 2.10385 +
 2.10386 +"I think so. But it is, as I have told you, next to impossible. I even be- 
 2.10387 +lieve it - in some cases - to be quite impossible." 
 2.10388 +
 2.10389 +"Now," said Mr. Lorry, gently laying his hand on the Doctor's arm 
 2.10390 +again, after a short silence on both sides, "to what would you refer this 
 2.10391 +attack? " 
 2.10392 +
 2.10393 +"I believe," returned Doctor Manette, "that there had been a strong 
 2.10394 +and extraordinary revival of the train of thought and remembrance that 
 2.10395 +was the first cause of the malady. Some intense associations of a most 
 2.10396 +distressing nature were vividly recalled, I think. It is probable that there 
 2.10397 +had long been a dread lurking in his mind, that those associations would 
 2.10398 +be recalled - say, under certain circumstances - say, on a particular occa- 
 2.10399 +sion. He tried to prepare himself in vain; perhaps the effort to prepare 
 2.10400 +himself made him less able to bear it." 
 2.10401 +
 2.10402 +"Would he remember what took place in the relapse?" asked Mr. 
 2.10403 +Lorry, with natural hesitation. 
 2.10404 +
 2.10405 +The Doctor looked desolately round the room, shook his head, and 
 2.10406 +answered, in a low voice, "Not at all." 
 2.10407 +
 2.10408 +"Now, as to the future," hinted Mr. Lorry. 
 2.10409 +
 2.10410 +
 2.10411 +
 2.10412 +205 
 2.10413 +
 2.10414 +
 2.10415 +
 2.10416 +"As to the future," said the Doctor, recovering firmness, "I should 
 2.10417 +have great hope. As it pleased Heaven in its mercy to restore him so 
 2.10418 +soon, I should have great hope. He, yielding under the pressure of a 
 2.10419 +complicated something, long dreaded and long vaguely foreseen and 
 2.10420 +contended against, and recovering after the cloud had burst and passed, 
 2.10421 +I should hope that the worst was over." 
 2.10422 +
 2.10423 +"Well, well! That's good comfort. I am thankful!" said Mr. Lorry. 
 2.10424 +
 2.10425 +"I am thankful!" repeated the Doctor, bending his head with 
 2.10426 +reverence. 
 2.10427 +
 2.10428 +"There are two other points," said Mr. Lorry, "on which I am anxious 
 2.10429 +to be instructed. I may go on?" 
 2.10430 +
 2.10431 +"You cannot do your friend a better service." The Doctor gave him his 
 2.10432 +hand. 
 2.10433 +
 2.10434 +"To the first, then. He is of a studious habit, and unusually energetic; 
 2.10435 +he applies himself with great ardour to the acquisition of professional 
 2.10436 +knowledge, to the conducting of experiments, to many things. Now, 
 2.10437 +does he do too much?" 
 2.10438 +
 2.10439 +"I think not. It may be the character of his mind, to be always in singu- 
 2.10440 +lar need of occupation. That may be, in part, natural to it; in part, the res- 
 2.10441 +ult of affliction. The less it was occupied with healthy things, the more it 
 2.10442 +would be in danger of turning in the unhealthy direction. He may have 
 2.10443 +observed himself, and made the discovery." 
 2.10444 +
 2.10445 +"You are sure that he is not under too great a strain?" 
 2.10446 +
 2.10447 +"I think I am quite sure of it." 
 2.10448 +
 2.10449 +"My dear Manette, if he were overworked now - " 
 2.10450 +
 2.10451 +"My dear Lorry, I doubt if that could easily be. There has been a viol- 
 2.10452 +ent stress in one direction, and it needs a counterweight." 
 2.10453 +
 2.10454 +"Excuse me, as a persistent man of business. Assuming for a moment, 
 2.10455 +that he was overworked; it would show itself in some renewal of this 
 2.10456 +disorder?" 
 2.10457 +
 2.10458 +"I do not think so. I do not think," said Doctor Manette with the firm- 
 2.10459 +ness of self-conviction, "that anything but the one train of association 
 2.10460 +would renew it. I think that, henceforth, nothing but some extraordinary 
 2.10461 +jarring of that chord could renew it. After what has happened, and after 
 2.10462 +his recovery, I find it difficult to imagine any such violent sounding of 
 2.10463 +that string again. I trust, and I almost believe, that the circumstances 
 2.10464 +likely to renew it are exhausted." 
 2.10465 +
 2.10466 +
 2.10467 +
 2.10468 +206 
 2.10469 +
 2.10470 +
 2.10471 +
 2.10472 +He spoke with the diffidence of a man who knew how slight a thing 
 2.10473 +would overset the delicate organisation of the mind, and yet with the 
 2.10474 +confidence of a man who had slowly won his assurance out of personal 
 2.10475 +endurance and distress. It was not for his friend to abate that confidence. 
 2.10476 +He professed himself more relieved and encouraged than he really was, 
 2.10477 +and approached his second and last point. He felt it to be the most diffi- 
 2.10478 +cult of all; but, remembering his old Sunday morning conversation with 
 2.10479 +Miss Pross, and remembering what he had seen in the last nine days, he 
 2.10480 +knew that he must face it. 
 2.10481 +
 2.10482 +"The occupation resumed under the influence of this passing affliction 
 2.10483 +so happily recovered from," said Mr. Lorry, clearing his throat, "we will 
 2.10484 +call - Blacksmith's work, Blacksmith's work. We will say, to put a case 
 2.10485 +and for the sake of illustration, that he had been used, in his bad time, to 
 2.10486 +work at a little forge. We will say that he was unexpectedly found at his 
 2.10487 +forge again. Is it not a pity that he should keep it by him?" 
 2.10488 +
 2.10489 +The Doctor shaded his forehead with his hand, and beat his foot 
 2.10490 +nervously on the ground. 
 2.10491 +
 2.10492 +"He has always kept it by him," said Mr. Lorry, with an anxious look 
 2.10493 +at his friend. "Now, would it not be better that he should let it go?" 
 2.10494 +
 2.10495 +Still, the Doctor, with shaded forehead, beat his foot nervously on the 
 2.10496 +ground. 
 2.10497 +
 2.10498 +"You do not find it easy to advise me?" said Mr. Lorry. "I quite under- 
 2.10499 +stand it to be a nice question. And yet I think - " And there he shook his 
 2.10500 +head, and stopped. 
 2.10501 +
 2.10502 +"You see," said Doctor Manette, turning to him after an uneasy pause, 
 2.10503 +"it is very hard to explain, consistently, the innermost workings of this 
 2.10504 +poor man's mind. He once yearned so frightfully for that occupation, 
 2.10505 +and it was so welcome when it came; no doubt it relieved his pain so 
 2.10506 +much, by substituting the perplexity of the fingers for the perplexity of 
 2.10507 +the brain, and by substituting, as he became more practised, the ingenu- 
 2.10508 +ity of the hands, for the ingenuity of the mental torture; that he has never 
 2.10509 +been able to bear the thought of putting it quite out of his reach. Even 
 2.10510 +now, when I believe he is more hopeful of himself than he has ever been, 
 2.10511 +and even speaks of himself with a kind of confidence, the idea that he 
 2.10512 +might need that old employment, and not find it, gives him a sudden 
 2.10513 +sense of terror, like that which one may fancy strikes to the heart of a lost 
 2.10514 +child." 
 2.10515 +
 2.10516 +He looked like his illustration, as he raised his eyes to Mr. Lorry's face. 
 2.10517 +
 2.10518 +
 2.10519 +
 2.10520 +207 
 2.10521 +
 2.10522 +
 2.10523 +
 2.10524 +"But may not - mind! I ask for information, as a plodding man of busi- 
 2.10525 +ness who only deals with such material objects as guineas, shillings, and 
 2.10526 +bank-notes - may not the retention of the thing involve the retention of 
 2.10527 +the idea? If the thing were gone, my dear Manette, might not the fear go 
 2.10528 +with it? In short, is it not a concession to the misgiving, to keep the 
 2.10529 +forge?" 
 2.10530 +
 2.10531 +There was another silence. 
 2.10532 +
 2.10533 +"You see, too," said the Doctor, tremulously, "it is such an old 
 2.10534 +companion." 
 2.10535 +
 2.10536 +"I would not keep it," said Mr. Lorry, shaking his head; for he gained 
 2.10537 +in firmness as he saw the Doctor disquieted. "I would recommend him 
 2.10538 +to sacrifice it. I only want your authority. I am sure it does no good. 
 2.10539 +Come! Give me your authority, like a dear good man. For his daughter's 
 2.10540 +sake, my dear Manette!" 
 2.10541 +
 2.10542 +Very strange to see what a struggle there was within him! 
 2.10543 +
 2.10544 +"In her name, then, let it be done; I sanction it. But, I would not take it 
 2.10545 +away while he was present. Let it be removed when he is not there; let 
 2.10546 +him miss his old companion after an absence." 
 2.10547 +
 2.10548 +Mr. Lorry readily engaged for that, and the conference was ended. 
 2.10549 +They passed the day in the country, and the Doctor was quite restored. 
 2.10550 +On the three following days he remained perfectly well, and on the four- 
 2.10551 +teenth day he went away to join Lucie and her husband. The precaution 
 2.10552 +that had been taken to account for his silence, Mr. Lorry had previously 
 2.10553 +explained to him, and he had written to Lucie in accordance with it, and 
 2.10554 +she had no suspicions. 
 2.10555 +
 2.10556 +On the night of the day on which he left the house, Mr. Lorry went in- 
 2.10557 +to his room with a chopper, saw, chisel, and hammer, attended by Miss 
 2.10558 +Pross carrying a light. There, with closed doors, and in a mysterious and 
 2.10559 +guilty manner, Mr. Lorry hacked the shoemaker's bench to pieces, while 
 2.10560 +Miss Pross held the candle as if she were assisting at a murder - for 
 2.10561 +which, indeed, in her grimness, she was no unsuitable figure. The burn- 
 2.10562 +ing of the body (previously reduced to pieces convenient for the pur- 
 2.10563 +pose) was commenced without delay in the kitchen fire; and the tools, 
 2.10564 +shoes, and leather, were buried in the garden. So wicked do destruction 
 2.10565 +and secrecy appear to honest minds, that Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross, 
 2.10566 +while engaged in the commission of their deed and in the removal of its 
 2.10567 +traces, almost felt, and almost looked, like accomplices in a horrible 
 2.10568 +crime. 
 2.10569 +
 2.10570 +
 2.10571 +
 2.10572 +208 
 2.10573 +
 2.10574 +
 2.10575 +
 2.10576 +Chapter 
 2.10577 +
 2.10578 +
 2.10579 +
 2.10580 +A Plea 
 2.10581 +
 2.10582 +
 2.10583 +
 2.10584 +20 
 2.10585 +
 2.10586 +
 2.10587 +
 2.10588 +When the newly-married pair came home, the first person who ap- 
 2.10589 +peared, to offer his congratulations, was Sydney Carton. They had not 
 2.10590 +been at home many hours, when he presented himself. He was not im- 
 2.10591 +proved in habits, or in looks, or in manner; but there was a certain 
 2.10592 +rugged air of fidelity about him, which was new to the observation of 
 2.10593 +Charles Darnay. 
 2.10594 +
 2.10595 +He watched his opportunity of taking Darnay aside into a window, 
 2.10596 +and of speaking to him when no one overheard. 
 2.10597 +
 2.10598 +"Mr. Darnay," said Carton, "I wish we might be friends." 
 2.10599 +
 2.10600 +"We are already friends, I hope." 
 2.10601 +
 2.10602 +"You are good enough to say so, as a fashion of speech; but, I don't 
 2.10603 +mean any fashion of speech. Indeed, when I say I wish we might be 
 2.10604 +friends, I scarcely mean quite that, either." 
 2.10605 +
 2.10606 +Charles Darnay - as was natural - asked him, in all good-humour and 
 2.10607 +good-fellowship, what he did mean? 
 2.10608 +
 2.10609 +"Upon my life," said Carton, smiling, "I find that easier to compre- 
 2.10610 +hend in my own mind, than to convey to yours. However, let me try. 
 2.10611 +You remember a certain famous occasion when I was more drunk than - 
 2.10612 +than usual?" 
 2.10613 +
 2.10614 +"I remember a certain famous occasion when you forced me to confess 
 2.10615 +that you had been drinking." 
 2.10616 +
 2.10617 +"I remember it too. The curse of those occasions is heavy upon me, for 
 2.10618 +I always remember them. I hope it may be taken into account one day, 
 2.10619 +when all days are at an end for me! Don't be alarmed; I am not going to 
 2.10620 +preach." 
 2.10621 +
 2.10622 +"I am not at all alarmed. Earnestness in you, is anything but alarming 
 2.10623 +to me." 
 2.10624 +
 2.10625 +
 2.10626 +
 2.10627 +209 
 2.10628 +
 2.10629 +
 2.10630 +
 2.10631 +"Ah!" said Carton, with a careless wave of his hand, as if he waved 
 2.10632 +that away. "On the drunken occasion in question (one of a large number, 
 2.10633 +as you know), I was insufferable about liking you, and not liking you. I 
 2.10634 +wish you would forget it." 
 2.10635 +
 2.10636 +"I forgot it long ago." 
 2.10637 +
 2.10638 +"Fashion of speech again! But, Mr. Darnay, oblivion is not so easy to 
 2.10639 +me, as you represent it to be to you. I have by no means forgotten it, and 
 2.10640 +a light answer does not help me to forget it." 
 2.10641 +
 2.10642 +"If it was a light answer," returned Darnay, "I beg your forgiveness for 
 2.10643 +it. I had no other object than to turn a slight thing, which, to my surprise, 
 2.10644 +seems to trouble you too much, aside. I declare to you, on the faith of a 
 2.10645 +gentleman, that I have long dismissed it from my mind. Good Heaven, 
 2.10646 +what was there to dismiss! Have I had nothing more important to re- 
 2.10647 +member, in the great service you rendered me that day?" 
 2.10648 +
 2.10649 +"As to the great service," said Carton, "I am bound to avow to you, 
 2.10650 +when you speak of it in that way, that it was mere professional claptrap, 
 2.10651 +I don't know that I cared what became of you, when I rendered 
 2.10652 +it. - Mind! I say when I rendered it; I am speaking of the past." 
 2.10653 +
 2.10654 +"You make light of the obligation," returned Darnay, "but I will not 
 2.10655 +quarrel with your light answer." 
 2.10656 +
 2.10657 +"Genuine truth, Mr. Darnay, trust me! I have gone aside from my pur- 
 2.10658 +pose; I was speaking about our being friends. Now, you know me; you 
 2.10659 +know I am incapable of all the higher and better flights of men. If you 
 2.10660 +doubt it, ask Stryver, and he'll tell you so." 
 2.10661 +
 2.10662 +"I prefer to form my own opinion, without the aid of his." 
 2.10663 +
 2.10664 +"Well! At any rate you know me as a dissolute dog, who has never 
 2.10665 +done any good, and never will." 
 2.10666 +
 2.10667 +"I don't know that you 'never will.'" 
 2.10668 +
 2.10669 +"But I do, and you must take my word for it. Well! If you could endure 
 2.10670 +to have such a worthless fellow, and a fellow of such indifferent reputa- 
 2.10671 +tion, coming and going at odd times, I should ask that I might be permit- 
 2.10672 +ted to come and go as a privileged person here; that I might be regarded 
 2.10673 +as an useless (and I would add, if it were not for the resemblance I detec- 
 2.10674 +ted between you and me, an unornamental) piece of furniture, tolerated 
 2.10675 +for its old service, and taken no notice of. I doubt if I should abuse the 
 2.10676 +permission. It is a hundred to one if I should avail myself of it four times 
 2.10677 +in a year. It would satisfy me, I dare say, to know that I had it." 
 2.10678 +
 2.10679 +"Will you try?" 
 2.10680 +
 2.10681 +
 2.10682 +
 2.10683 +210 
 2.10684 +
 2.10685 +
 2.10686 +
 2.10687 +"That is another way of saying that I am placed on the footing I have 
 2.10688 +indicated. I thank you, Darnay. I may use that freedom with your 
 2.10689 +
 2.10690 +name?" 
 2.10691 +
 2.10692 +"I think so, Carton, by this time." 
 2.10693 +
 2.10694 +They shook hands upon it, and Sydney turned away. Within a minute 
 2.10695 +afterwards, he was, to all outward appearance, as unsubstantial as ever. 
 2.10696 +
 2.10697 +When he was gone, and in the course of an evening passed with Miss 
 2.10698 +Pross, the Doctor, and Mr. Lorry, Charles Darnay made some mention of 
 2.10699 +this conversation in general terms, and spoke of Sydney Carton as a 
 2.10700 +problem of carelessness and recklessness. He spoke of him, in short, not 
 2.10701 +bitterly or meaning to bear hard upon him, but as anybody might who 
 2.10702 +saw him as he showed himself. 
 2.10703 +
 2.10704 +He had no idea that this could dwell in the thoughts of his fair young 
 2.10705 +wife; but, when he afterwards joined her in their own rooms, he found 
 2.10706 +her waiting for him with the old pretty lifting of the forehead strongly 
 2.10707 +marked. 
 2.10708 +
 2.10709 +"We are thoughtful to-night!" said Darnay, drawing his arm about her. 
 2.10710 +
 2.10711 +"Yes, dearest Charles," with her hands on his breast, and the inquiring 
 2.10712 +and attentive expression fixed upon him; "we are rather thoughtful to- 
 2.10713 +night, for we have something on our mind to-night." 
 2.10714 +
 2.10715 +"What is it, my Lucie?" 
 2.10716 +
 2.10717 +"Will you promise not to press one question on me, if I beg you not to 
 2.10718 +ask it?" 
 2.10719 +
 2.10720 +"Will I promise? What will I not promise to my Love?" 
 2.10721 +
 2.10722 +What, indeed, with his hand putting aside the golden hair from the 
 2.10723 +cheek, and his other hand against the heart that beat for him! 
 2.10724 +
 2.10725 +"I think, Charles, poor Mr. Carton deserves more consideration and re- 
 2.10726 +spect than you expressed for him to-night." 
 2.10727 +
 2.10728 +"Indeed, my own? Why so?" 
 2.10729 +
 2.10730 +"That is what you are not to ask me. But I think - I know - he does." 
 2.10731 +
 2.10732 +"If you know it, it is enough. What would you have me do, my Life?" 
 2.10733 +
 2.10734 +"I would ask you, dearest, to be very generous with him always, and 
 2.10735 +very lenient on his faults when he is not by. I would ask you to believe 
 2.10736 +that he has a heart he very, very seldom reveals, and that there are deep 
 2.10737 +wounds in it. My dear, I have seen it bleeding." 
 2.10738 +
 2.10739 +
 2.10740 +
 2.10741 +211 
 2.10742 +
 2.10743 +
 2.10744 +
 2.10745 +"It is a painful reflexion to me," said Charles Darnay, quite astounded, 
 2.10746 +"that I should have done him any wrong. I never thought this of him." 
 2.10747 +
 2.10748 +"My husband, it is so. I fear he is not to be reclaimed; there is scarcely 
 2.10749 +a hope that anything in his character or fortunes is reparable now. But, I 
 2.10750 +am sure that he is capable of good things, gentle things, even magnanim- 
 2.10751 +ous things." 
 2.10752 +
 2.10753 +She looked so beautiful in the purity of her faith in this lost man, that 
 2.10754 +her husband could have looked at her as she was for hours. 
 2.10755 +
 2.10756 +"And, O my dearest Love!" she urged, clinging nearer to him, laying 
 2.10757 +her head upon his breast, and raising her eyes to his, "remember how 
 2.10758 +strong we are in our happiness, and how weak he is in his misery!" 
 2.10759 +
 2.10760 +The supplication touched him home. "I will always remember it, dear 
 2.10761 +Heart! I will remember it as long as I live." 
 2.10762 +
 2.10763 +He bent over the golden head, and put the rosy lips to his, and folded 
 2.10764 +her in his arms. If one forlorn wanderer then pacing the dark streets, 
 2.10765 +could have heard her innocent disclosure, and could have seen the drops 
 2.10766 +of pity kissed away by her husband from the soft blue eyes so loving of 
 2.10767 +that husband, he might have cried to the night - and the words would 
 2.10768 +not have parted from his lips for the first time - 
 2.10769 +
 2.10770 +"God bless her for her sweet compassion!" 
 2.10771 +
 2.10772 +
 2.10773 +
 2.10774 +212 
 2.10775 +
 2.10776 +
 2.10777 +
 2.10778 +Chapter 
 2.10779 +
 2.10780 +
 2.10781 +
 2.10782 +21 
 2.10783 +
 2.10784 +
 2.10785 +
 2.10786 +Echoing Footsteps 
 2.10787 +
 2.10788 +A wonderful corner for echoes, it has been remarked, that corner 
 2.10789 +where the Doctor lived. Ever busily winding the golden thread which 
 2.10790 +bound her husband, and her father, and herself, and her old directress 
 2.10791 +and companion, in a life of quiet bliss, Lucie sat in the still house in the 
 2.10792 +tranquilly resounding corner, listening to the echoing footsteps of years. 
 2.10793 +
 2.10794 +At first, there were times, though she was a perfectly happy young 
 2.10795 +wife, when her work would slowly fall from her hands, and her eyes 
 2.10796 +would be dimmed. For, there was something coming in the echoes, 
 2.10797 +something light, afar off, and scarcely audible yet, that stirred her heart 
 2.10798 +too much. Fluttering hopes and doubts - hopes, of a love as yet un- 
 2.10799 +known to her: doubts, of her remaining upon earth, to enjoy that new de- 
 2.10800 +light - divided her breast. Among the echoes then, there would arise the 
 2.10801 +sound of footsteps at her own early grave; and thoughts of the husband 
 2.10802 +who would be left so desolate, and who would mourn for her so much, 
 2.10803 +swelled to her eyes, and broke like waves. 
 2.10804 +
 2.10805 +That time passed, and her little Lucie lay on her bosom. Then, among 
 2.10806 +the advancing echoes, there was the tread of her tiny feet and the sound 
 2.10807 +of her prattling words. Let greater echoes resound as they would, the 
 2.10808 +young mother at the cradle side could always hear those coming. They 
 2.10809 +came, and the shady house was sunny with a child's laugh, and the Div- 
 2.10810 +ine friend of children, to whom in her trouble she had confided hers, 
 2.10811 +seemed to take her child in his arms, as He took the child of old, and 
 2.10812 +made it a sacred joy to her. 
 2.10813 +
 2.10814 +Ever busily winding the golden thread that bound them all together, 
 2.10815 +weaving the service of her happy influence through the tissue of all their 
 2.10816 +lives, and making it predominate nowhere, Lucie heard in the echoes of 
 2.10817 +years none but friendly and soothing sounds. Her husband's step was 
 2.10818 +strong and prosperous among them; her father's firm and equal. Lo, 
 2.10819 +Miss Pross, in harness of string, awakening the echoes, as an unruly 
 2.10820 +
 2.10821 +
 2.10822 +
 2.10823 +213 
 2.10824 +
 2.10825 +
 2.10826 +
 2.10827 +charger, whip-corrected, snorting and pawing the earth under the plane- 
 2.10828 +tree in the garden! 
 2.10829 +
 2.10830 +Even when there were sounds of sorrow among the rest, they were not 
 2.10831 +harsh nor cruel. Even when golden hair, like her own, lay in a halo on a 
 2.10832 +pillow round the worn face of a little boy, and he said, with a radiant 
 2.10833 +smile, "Dear papa and mamma, I am very sorry to leave you both, and to 
 2.10834 +leave my pretty sister; but I am called, and I must go!" those were not 
 2.10835 +tears all of agony that wetted his young mother's cheek, as the spirit de- 
 2.10836 +parted from her embrace that had been entrusted to it. Suffer them and 
 2.10837 +forbid them not. They see my Father's face. O Father, blessed words! 
 2.10838 +
 2.10839 +Thus, the rustling of an Angel's wings got blended with the other 
 2.10840 +echoes, and they were not wholly of earth, but had in them that breath of 
 2.10841 +Heaven. Sighs of the winds that blew over a little garden-tomb were 
 2.10842 +mingled with them also, and both were audible to Lucie, in a hushed 
 2.10843 +murmur - like the breathing of a summer sea asleep upon a sandy shore 
 2.10844 +- as the little Lucie, comically studious at the task of the morning, or 
 2.10845 +dressing a doll at her mother's footstool, chattered in the tongues of the 
 2.10846 +Two Cities that were blended in her life. 
 2.10847 +
 2.10848 +The Echoes rarely answered to the actual tread of Sydney Carton. 
 2.10849 +Some half-dozen times a year, at most, he claimed his privilege of com- 
 2.10850 +ing in uninvited, and would sit among them through the evening, as he 
 2.10851 +had once done often. He never came there heated with wine. And one 
 2.10852 +other thing regarding him was whispered in the echoes, which has been 
 2.10853 +whispered by all true echoes for ages and ages. 
 2.10854 +
 2.10855 +No man ever really loved a woman, lost her, and knew her with a 
 2.10856 +blameless though an unchanged mind, when she was a wife and a moth- 
 2.10857 +er, but her children had a strange sympathy with him - an instinctive 
 2.10858 +delicacy of pity for him. What fine hidden sensibilities are touched in 
 2.10859 +such a case, no echoes tell; but it is so, and it was so here. Carton was the 
 2.10860 +first stranger to whom little Lucie held out her chubby arms, and he kept 
 2.10861 +his place with her as she grew. The little boy had spoken of him, almost 
 2.10862 +at the last. "Poor Carton! Kiss him for me!" 
 2.10863 +
 2.10864 +Mr. Stryver shouldered his way through the law, like some great en- 
 2.10865 +gine forcing itself through turbid water, and dragged his useful friend in 
 2.10866 +his wake, like a boat towed astern. As the boat so favoured is usually in a 
 2.10867 +rough plight, and mostly under water, so, Sydney had a swamped life of 
 2.10868 +it. But, easy and strong custom, unhappily so much easier and stronger 
 2.10869 +in him than any stimulating sense of desert or disgrace, made it the life 
 2.10870 +he was to lead; and he no more thought of emerging from his state of 
 2.10871 +
 2.10872 +
 2.10873 +
 2.10874 +214 
 2.10875 +
 2.10876 +
 2.10877 +
 2.10878 +lion's jackal, than any real jackal may be supposed to think of rising to be 
 2.10879 +a lion. Stryver was rich; had married a florid widow with property and 
 2.10880 +three boys, who had nothing particularly shining about them but the 
 2.10881 +straight hair of their dumpling heads. 
 2.10882 +
 2.10883 +These three young gentlemen, Mr. Stryver, exuding patronage of the 
 2.10884 +most offensive quality from every pore, had walked before him like three 
 2.10885 +sheep to the quiet corner in Soho, and had offered as pupils to Lucie's 
 2.10886 +husband: delicately saying "Halloa! here are three lumps of bread-and- 
 2.10887 +cheese towards your matrimonial picnic, Darnay!" The polite rejection of 
 2.10888 +the three lumps of bread-and-cheese had quite bloated Mr. Stryver with 
 2.10889 +indignation, which he afterwards turned to account in the training of the 
 2.10890 +young gentlemen, by directing them to beware of the pride of Beggars, 
 2.10891 +like that tutor-fellow. He was also in the habit of declaiming to Mrs. 
 2.10892 +Stryver, over his full-bodied wine, on the arts Mrs. Darnay had once put 
 2.10893 +in practice to "catch" him, and on the diamond-cut-diamond arts in him- 
 2.10894 +self, madam, which had rendered him "not to be caught." Some of his 
 2.10895 +King's Bench familiars, who were occasionally parties to the full-bodied 
 2.10896 +wine and the lie, excused him for the latter by saying that he had told it 
 2.10897 +so often, that he believed it himself - which is surely such an incorrigible 
 2.10898 +aggravation of an originally bad offence, as to justify any such offender's 
 2.10899 +being carried off to some suitably retired spot, and there hanged out of 
 2.10900 +the way. 
 2.10901 +
 2.10902 +These were among the echoes to which Lucie, sometimes pensive, 
 2.10903 +sometimes amused and laughing, listened in the echoing corner, until 
 2.10904 +her little daughter was six years old. How near to her heart the echoes of 
 2.10905 +her child's tread came, and those of her own dear father's, always active 
 2.10906 +and self-possessed, and those of her dear husband's, need not be told. 
 2.10907 +Nor, how the lightest echo of their united home, directed by herself with 
 2.10908 +such a wise and elegant thrift that it was more abundant than any waste, 
 2.10909 +was music to her. Nor, how there were echoes all about her, sweet in her 
 2.10910 +ears, of the many times her father had told her that he found her more 
 2.10911 +devoted to him married (if that could be) than single, and of the many 
 2.10912 +times her husband had said to her that no cares and duties seemed to di- 
 2.10913 +vide her love for him or her help to him, and asked her "What is the ma- 
 2.10914 +gic secret, my darling, of your being everything to all of us, as if there 
 2.10915 +were only one of us, yet never seeming to be hurried, or to have too 
 2.10916 +much to do?" 
 2.10917 +
 2.10918 +But, there were other echoes, from a distance, that rumbled men- 
 2.10919 +acingly in the corner all through this space of time. And it was now, 
 2.10920 +
 2.10921 +
 2.10922 +
 2.10923 +215 
 2.10924 +
 2.10925 +
 2.10926 +
 2.10927 +about little Lucie's sixth birthday, that they began to have an awful 
 2.10928 +sound, as of a great storm in France with a dreadful sea rising. 
 2.10929 +
 2.10930 +On a night in mid-July, one thousand seven hundred and eighty-nine, 
 2.10931 +Mr. Lorry came in late, from Tellson's, and sat himself down by Lucie 
 2.10932 +and her husband in the dark window. It was a hot, wild night, and they 
 2.10933 +were all three reminded of the old Sunday night when they had looked 
 2.10934 +at the lightning from the same place. 
 2.10935 +
 2.10936 +"I began to think," said Mr. Lorry, pushing his brown wig back, "that I 
 2.10937 +should have to pass the night at Tellson's. We have been so full of busi- 
 2.10938 +ness all day, that we have not known what to do first, or which way to 
 2.10939 +turn. There is such an uneasiness in Paris, that we have actually a run of 
 2.10940 +confidence upon us! Our customers over there, seem not to be able to 
 2.10941 +confide their property to us fast enough. There is positively a mania 
 2.10942 +among some of them for sending it to England." 
 2.10943 +
 2.10944 +"That has a bad look," said Darnay - 
 2.10945 +
 2.10946 +"A bad look, you say, my dear Darnay? Yes, but we don't know what 
 2.10947 +reason there is in it. People are so unreasonable! Some of us at Tellson's 
 2.10948 +are getting old, and we really can't be troubled out of the ordinary 
 2.10949 +course without due occasion." 
 2.10950 +
 2.10951 +"Still," said Darnay, "you know how gloomy and threatening the sky 
 2.10952 +
 2.10953 +
 2.10954 +
 2.10955 +is." 
 2.10956 +
 2.10957 +
 2.10958 +
 2.10959 +"I know that, to be sure," assented Mr. Lorry, trying to persuade him- 
 2.10960 +self that his sweet temper was soured, and that he grumbled, "but I am 
 2.10961 +determined to be peevish after my long day's botheration. Where is 
 2.10962 +Manette?" 
 2.10963 +
 2.10964 +"Here he is," said the Doctor, entering the dark room at the moment. 
 2.10965 +
 2.10966 +"I am quite glad you are at home; for these hurries and forebodings by 
 2.10967 +which I have been surrounded all day long, have made me nervous 
 2.10968 +without reason. You are not going out, I hope?" 
 2.10969 +
 2.10970 +"No; I am going to play backgammon with you, if you like," said the 
 2.10971 +Doctor. 
 2.10972 +
 2.10973 +"I don't think I do like, if I may speak my mind. I am not fit to be pit- 
 2.10974 +ted against you to-night. Is the teaboard still there, Lucie? I can't see." 
 2.10975 +
 2.10976 +"Of course, it has been kept for you." 
 2.10977 +
 2.10978 +"Thank ye, my dear. The precious child is safe in bed?" 
 2.10979 +
 2.10980 +"And sleeping soundly." 
 2.10981 +
 2.10982 +
 2.10983 +
 2.10984 +216 
 2.10985 +
 2.10986 +
 2.10987 +
 2.10988 +"That's right; all safe and well! I don't know why anything should be 
 2.10989 +otherwise than safe and well here, thank God; but I have been so put out 
 2.10990 +all day, and I am not as young as I was! My tea, my dear! Thank ye. 
 2.10991 +Now, come and take your place in the circle, and let us sit quiet, and 
 2.10992 +hear the echoes about which you have your theory." 
 2.10993 +
 2.10994 +"Not a theory; it was a fancy." 
 2.10995 +
 2.10996 +"A fancy, then, my wise pet," said Mr. Lorry, patting her hand. "They 
 2.10997 +are very numerous and very loud, though, are they not? Only hear 
 2.10998 +them!" 
 2.10999 +
 2.11000 +Headlong, mad, and dangerous footsteps to force their way into any- 
 2.11001 +body's life, footsteps not easily made clean again if once stained red, the 
 2.11002 +footsteps raging in Saint Antoine afar off, as the little circle sat in the 
 2.11003 +dark London window. 
 2.11004 +
 2.11005 +Saint Antoine had been, that morning, a vast dusky mass of scare- 
 2.11006 +crows heaving to and fro, with frequent gleams of light above the bil- 
 2.11007 +lowy heads, where steel blades and bayonets shone in the sun. A tre- 
 2.11008 +mendous roar arose from the throat of Saint Antoine, and a forest of na- 
 2.11009 +ked arms struggled in the air like shrivelled branches of trees in a winter 
 2.11010 +wind: all the fingers convulsively clutching at every weapon or semb- 
 2.11011 +lance of a weapon that was thrown up from the depths below, no matter 
 2.11012 +how far off. 
 2.11013 +
 2.11014 +Who gave them out, whence they last came, where they began, 
 2.11015 +through what agency they crookedly quivered and jerked, scores at a 
 2.11016 +time, over the heads of the crowd, like a kind of lightning, no eye in the 
 2.11017 +throng could have told; but, muskets were being distributed - so were 
 2.11018 +cartridges, powder, and ball, bars of iron and wood, knives, axes, pikes, 
 2.11019 +every weapon that distracted ingenuity could discover or devise. People 
 2.11020 +who could lay hold of nothing else, set themselves with bleeding hands 
 2.11021 +to force stones and bricks out of their places in walls. Every pulse and 
 2.11022 +heart in Saint Antoine was on high-fever strain and at high-fever heat. 
 2.11023 +Every living creature there held life as of no account, and was demented 
 2.11024 +with a passionate readiness to sacrifice it. 
 2.11025 +
 2.11026 +As a whirlpool of boiling waters has a centre point, so, all this raging 
 2.11027 +circled round Defarge's wine-shop, and every human drop in the 
 2.11028 +caldron had a tendency to be sucked towards the vortex where Defarge 
 2.11029 +himself, already begrimed with gunpowder and sweat, issued orders, is- 
 2.11030 +sued arms, thrust this man back, dragged this man forward, disarmed 
 2.11031 +one to arm another, laboured and strove in the thickest of the uproar. 
 2.11032 +
 2.11033 +
 2.11034 +
 2.11035 +217 
 2.11036 +
 2.11037 +
 2.11038 +
 2.11039 +"Keep near to me, Jacques Three," cried Defarge; "and do you, Jacques 
 2.11040 +One and Two, separate and put yourselves at the head of as many of 
 2.11041 +these patriots as you can. Where is my wife?" 
 2.11042 +
 2.11043 +"Eh, well! Here you see me!" said madame, composed as ever, but not 
 2.11044 +knitting to-day. Madame's resolute right hand was occupied with an axe, 
 2.11045 +in place of the usual softer implements, and in her girdle were a pistol 
 2.11046 +and a cruel knife. 
 2.11047 +
 2.11048 +"Where do you go, my wife?" 
 2.11049 +
 2.11050 +"I go," said madame, "with you at present. You shall see me at the 
 2.11051 +head of women, by-and-bye." 
 2.11052 +
 2.11053 +"Come, then!" cried Defarge, in a resounding voice. "Patriots and 
 2.11054 +friends, we are ready! The Bastille!" 
 2.11055 +
 2.11056 +With a roar that sounded as if all the breath in France had been shaped 
 2.11057 +into the detested word, the living sea rose, wave on wave, depth on 
 2.11058 +depth, and overflowed the city to that point. Alarm-bells ringing, drums 
 2.11059 +beating, the sea raging and thundering on its new beach, the attack 
 2.11060 +began. 
 2.11061 +
 2.11062 +Deep ditches, double drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight great 
 2.11063 +towers, cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. Through the fire and through 
 2.11064 +the smoke - in the fire and in the smoke, for the sea cast him up against a 
 2.11065 +cannon, and on the instant he became a cannonier - Defarge of the wine- 
 2.11066 +shop worked like a manful soldier, Two fierce hours. 
 2.11067 +
 2.11068 +Deep ditch, single drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight great 
 2.11069 +towers, cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. One drawbridge down! 
 2.11070 +"Work, comrades all, work! Work, Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques 
 2.11071 +One Thousand, Jacques Two Thousand, Jacques Five-and-Twenty Thou- 
 2.11072 +sand; in the name of all the Angels or the Devils - which you 
 2.11073 +prefer - work!" Thus Defarge of the wine-shop, still at his gun, which 
 2.11074 +had long grown hot. 
 2.11075 +
 2.11076 +"To me, women!" cried madame his wife. "What! We can kill as well 
 2.11077 +as the men when the place is taken!" And to her, with a shrill thirsty cry, 
 2.11078 +trooping women variously armed, but all armed alike in hunger and 
 2.11079 +revenge. 
 2.11080 +
 2.11081 +Cannon, muskets, fire and smoke; but, still the deep ditch, the single 
 2.11082 +drawbridge, the massive stone walls, and the eight great towers. Slight 
 2.11083 +displacements of the raging sea, made by the falling wounded. Flashing 
 2.11084 +weapons, blazing torches, smoking waggonloads of wet straw, hard 
 2.11085 +work at neighbouring barricades in all directions, shrieks, volleys, 
 2.11086 +
 2.11087 +
 2.11088 +
 2.11089 +218 
 2.11090 +
 2.11091 +
 2.11092 +
 2.11093 +execrations, bravery without stint, boom smash and rattle, and the furi- 
 2.11094 +ous sounding of the living sea; but, still the deep ditch, and the single 
 2.11095 +drawbridge, and the massive stone walls, and the eight great towers, and 
 2.11096 +still Defarge of the wine-shop at his gun, grown doubly hot by the ser- 
 2.11097 +vice of Four fierce hours. 
 2.11098 +
 2.11099 +A white flag from within the fortress, and a parley - this dimly per- 
 2.11100 +ceptible through the raging storm, nothing audible in it - suddenly the 
 2.11101 +sea rose immeasurably wider and higher, and swept Defarge of the 
 2.11102 +wine-shop over the lowered drawbridge, past the massive stone outer 
 2.11103 +walls, in among the eight great towers surrendered! 
 2.11104 +
 2.11105 +So resistless was the force of the ocean bearing him on, that even to 
 2.11106 +draw his breath or turn his head was as impracticable as if he had been 
 2.11107 +struggling in the surf at the South Sea, until he was landed in the outer 
 2.11108 +courtyard of the Bastille. There, against an angle of a wall, he made a 
 2.11109 +struggle to look about him. Jacques Three was nearly at his side; Ma- 
 2.11110 +dame Defarge, still heading some of her women, was visible in the inner 
 2.11111 +distance, and her knife was in her hand. Everywhere was tumult, exulta- 
 2.11112 +tion, deafening and maniacal bewilderment, astounding noise, yet 
 2.11113 +furious dumb-show. 
 2.11114 +
 2.11115 +"The Prisoners!" 
 2.11116 +
 2.11117 +"The Records!" 
 2.11118 +
 2.11119 +"The secret cells!" 
 2.11120 +
 2.11121 +"The instruments of torture!" 
 2.11122 +
 2.11123 +"The Prisoners!" 
 2.11124 +
 2.11125 +Of all these cries, and ten thousand incoherences, "The Prisoners!" was 
 2.11126 +the cry most taken up by the sea that rushed in, as if there were an etern- 
 2.11127 +ity of people, as well as of time and space. When the foremost billows 
 2.11128 +rolled past, bearing the prison officers with them, and threatening them 
 2.11129 +all with instant death if any secret nook remained undisclosed, Defarge 
 2.11130 +laid his strong hand on the breast of one of these men - a man with a 
 2.11131 +grey head, who had a lighted torch in his hand - separated him from the 
 2.11132 +rest, and got him between himself and the wall. 
 2.11133 +
 2.11134 +"Show me the North Tower!" said Defarge. "Quick!" 
 2.11135 +
 2.11136 +"I will faithfully," replied the man, "if you will come with me. But 
 2.11137 +there is no one there." 
 2.11138 +
 2.11139 +"What is the meaning of One Hundred and Five, North Tower?" asked 
 2.11140 +Defarge. "Quick!" 
 2.11141 +
 2.11142 +
 2.11143 +
 2.11144 +219 
 2.11145 +
 2.11146 +
 2.11147 +
 2.11148 +"The meaning, monsieur?" 
 2.11149 +
 2.11150 +"Does it mean a captive, or a place of captivity? Or do you mean that I 
 2.11151 +shall strike you dead?" 
 2.11152 +
 2.11153 +"Kill him!" croaked Jacques Three, who had come close up. 
 2.11154 +
 2.11155 +"Monsieur, it is a cell." 
 2.11156 +
 2.11157 +"Show it me!" 
 2.11158 +
 2.11159 +"Pass this way, then." 
 2.11160 +
 2.11161 +Jacques Three, with his usual craving on him, and evidently disap- 
 2.11162 +pointed by the dialogue taking a turn that did not seem to promise 
 2.11163 +bloodshed, held by Defarge's arm as he held by the turnkey's. Their 
 2.11164 +three heads had been close together during this brief discourse, and it 
 2.11165 +had been as much as they could do to hear one another, even then: so 
 2.11166 +tremendous was the noise of the living ocean, in its irruption into the 
 2.11167 +Fortress, and its inundation of the courts and passages and staircases. All 
 2.11168 +around outside, too, it beat the walls with a deep, hoarse roar, from 
 2.11169 +which, occasionally, some partial shouts of tumult broke and leaped into 
 2.11170 +the air like spray. 
 2.11171 +
 2.11172 +Through gloomy vaults where the light of day had never shone, past 
 2.11173 +hideous doors of dark dens and cages, down cavernous flights of steps, 
 2.11174 +and again up steep rugged ascents of stone and brick, more like dry wa- 
 2.11175 +terfalls than staircases, Defarge, the turnkey, and Jacques Three, linked 
 2.11176 +hand and arm, went with all the speed they could make. Here and there, 
 2.11177 +especially at first, the inundation started on them and swept by; but 
 2.11178 +when they had done descending, and were winding and climbing up a 
 2.11179 +tower, they were alone. Hemmed in here by the massive thickness of 
 2.11180 +walls and arches, the storm within the fortress and without was only 
 2.11181 +audible to them in a dull, subdued way, as if the noise out of which they 
 2.11182 +had come had almost destroyed their sense of hearing. 
 2.11183 +
 2.11184 +The turnkey stopped at a low door, put a key in a clashing lock, swung 
 2.11185 +the door slowly open, and said, as they all bent their heads and passed 
 2.11186 +in: 
 2.11187 +
 2.11188 +"One hundred and five, North Tower!" 
 2.11189 +
 2.11190 +There was a small, heavily-grated, unglazed window high in the wall, 
 2.11191 +with a stone screen before it, so that the sky could be only seen by stoop- 
 2.11192 +ing low and looking up. There was a small chimney, heavily barred 
 2.11193 +across, a few feet within. There was a heap of old feathery wood-ashes 
 2.11194 +on the hearth. There was a stool, and table, and a straw bed. There were 
 2.11195 +the four blackened walls, and a rusted iron ring in one of them. 
 2.11196 +
 2.11197 +
 2.11198 +
 2.11199 +220 
 2.11200 +
 2.11201 +
 2.11202 +
 2.11203 +"Pass that torch slowly along these walls, that I may see them," said 
 2.11204 +Defarge to the turnkey. 
 2.11205 +
 2.11206 +The man obeyed, and Defarge followed the light closely with his eyes. 
 2.11207 +
 2.11208 +"Stop! - Look here, Jacques!" 
 2.11209 +
 2.11210 +"A. M.!" croaked Jacques Three, as he read greedily. 
 2.11211 +
 2.11212 +"Alexandre Manette," said Defarge in his ear, following the letters 
 2.11213 +with his swart forefinger, deeply engrained with gunpowder. "And here 
 2.11214 +he wrote 'a poor physician.' And it was he, without doubt, who 
 2.11215 +scratched a calendar on this stone. What is that in your hand? A crow- 
 2.11216 +bar? Give it me!" 
 2.11217 +
 2.11218 +He had still the linstock of his gun in his own hand. He made a sudden 
 2.11219 +exchange of the two instruments, and turning on the worm-eaten stool 
 2.11220 +and table, beat them to pieces in a few blows. 
 2.11221 +
 2.11222 +"Hold the light higher!" he said, wrathfully, to the turnkey. "Look 
 2.11223 +among those fragments with care, Jacques. And see! Here is my knife," 
 2.11224 +throwing it to him; "rip open that bed, and search the straw. Hold the 
 2.11225 +light higher, you!" 
 2.11226 +
 2.11227 +With a menacing look at the turnkey he crawled upon the hearth, and, 
 2.11228 +peering up the chimney, struck and prised at its sides with the crowbar, 
 2.11229 +and worked at the iron grating across it. In a few minutes, some mortar 
 2.11230 +and dust came dropping down, which he averted his face to avoid; and 
 2.11231 +in it, and in the old wood-ashes, and in a crevice in the chimney into 
 2.11232 +which his weapon had slipped or wrought itself, he groped with a cau- 
 2.11233 +tious touch. 
 2.11234 +
 2.11235 +"Nothing in the wood, and nothing in the straw, Jacques?" 
 2.11236 +
 2.11237 +"Nothing." 
 2.11238 +
 2.11239 +"Let us collect them together, in the middle of the cell. So! Light them, 
 2.11240 +you!" 
 2.11241 +
 2.11242 +The turnkey fired the little pile, which blazed high and hot. Stooping 
 2.11243 +again to come out at the low-arched door, they left it burning, and re- 
 2.11244 +traced their way to the courtyard; seeming to recover their sense of hear- 
 2.11245 +ing as they came down, until they were in the raging flood once more. 
 2.11246 +
 2.11247 +They found it surging and tossing, in quest of Defarge himself. Saint 
 2.11248 +Antoine was clamorous to have its wine-shop keeper foremost in the 
 2.11249 +guard upon the governor who had defended the Bastille and shot the 
 2.11250 +people. Otherwise, the governor would not be marched to the Hotel de 
 2.11251 +Ville for judgment. Otherwise, the governor would escape, and the 
 2.11252 +
 2.11253 +
 2.11254 +
 2.11255 +221 
 2.11256 +
 2.11257 +
 2.11258 +
 2.11259 +people's blood (suddenly of some value, after many years of worthless- 
 2.11260 +ness) be unavenged. 
 2.11261 +
 2.11262 +In the howling universe of passion and contention that seemed to en- 
 2.11263 +compass this grim old officer conspicuous in his grey coat and red decor- 
 2.11264 +ation, there was but one quite steady figure, and that was a woman's. 
 2.11265 +"See, there is my husband!" she cried, pointing him out. "See Defarge!" 
 2.11266 +She stood immovable close to the grim old officer, and remained immov- 
 2.11267 +able close to him; remained immovable close to him through the streets, 
 2.11268 +as Defarge and the rest bore him along; remained immovable close to 
 2.11269 +him when he was got near his destination, and began to be struck at 
 2.11270 +from behind; remained immovable close to him when the long-gathering 
 2.11271 +rain of stabs and blows fell heavy; was so close to him when he dropped 
 2.11272 +dead under it, that, suddenly animated, she put her foot upon his neck, 
 2.11273 +and with her cruel knife - long ready - hewed off his head. 
 2.11274 +
 2.11275 +The hour was come, when Saint Antoine was to execute his horrible 
 2.11276 +idea of hoisting up men for lamps to show what he could be and do. 
 2.11277 +Saint Antoine's blood was up, and the blood of tyranny and domination 
 2.11278 +by the iron hand was down - down on the steps of the Hotel de Ville 
 2.11279 +where the governor's body lay - down on the sole of the shoe of Ma- 
 2.11280 +dame Defarge where she had trodden on the body to steady it for mutil- 
 2.11281 +ation. "Lower the lamp yonder!" cried Saint Antoine, after glaring round 
 2.11282 +for a new means of death; "here is one of his soldiers to be left on 
 2.11283 +guard!" The swinging sentinel was posted, and the sea rushed on. 
 2.11284 +
 2.11285 +The sea of black and threatening waters, and of destructive upheaving 
 2.11286 +of wave against wave, whose depths were yet unfathomed and whose 
 2.11287 +forces were yet unknown. The remorseless sea of turbulently swaying 
 2.11288 +shapes, voices of vengeance, and faces hardened in the furnaces of suf- 
 2.11289 +fering until the touch of pity could make no mark on them. 
 2.11290 +
 2.11291 +But, in the ocean of faces where every fierce and furious expression 
 2.11292 +was in vivid life, there were two groups of faces - each seven in number 
 2.11293 +- so fixedly contrasting with the rest, that never did sea roll which bore 
 2.11294 +more memorable wrecks with it. Seven faces of prisoners, suddenly re- 
 2.11295 +leased by the storm that had burst their tomb, were carried high over- 
 2.11296 +head: all scared, all lost, all wondering and amazed, as if the Last Day 
 2.11297 +were come, and those who rejoiced around them were lost spirits. Other 
 2.11298 +seven faces there were, carried higher, seven dead faces, whose drooping 
 2.11299 +eyelids and half-seen eyes awaited the Last Day. Impassive faces, yet 
 2.11300 +with a suspended - not an abolished - expression on them; faces, rather, 
 2.11301 +
 2.11302 +
 2.11303 +
 2.11304 +222 
 2.11305 +
 2.11306 +
 2.11307 +
 2.11308 +in a fearful pause, as having yet to raise the dropped lids of the eyes, and 
 2.11309 +bear witness with the bloodless lips, "Thou didst it!" 
 2.11310 +
 2.11311 +Seven prisoners released, seven gory heads on pikes, the keys of the 
 2.11312 +accursed fortress of the eight strong towers, some discovered letters and 
 2.11313 +other memorials of prisoners of old time, long dead of broken 
 2.11314 +hearts, - such, and such - like, the loudly echoing footsteps of Saint An- 
 2.11315 +toine escort through the Paris streets in mid-July, one thousand seven 
 2.11316 +hundred and eighty-nine. Now, Heaven defeat the fancy of Lucie 
 2.11317 +Darnay, and keep these feet far out of her life! For, they are headlong, 
 2.11318 +mad, and dangerous; and in the years so long after the breaking of the 
 2.11319 +cask at Defarge's wine-shop door, they are not easily purified when once 
 2.11320 +stained red. 
 2.11321 +
 2.11322 +
 2.11323 +
 2.11324 +223 
 2.11325 +
 2.11326 +
 2.11327 +
 2.11328 +Chapter 
 2.11329 +
 2.11330 +
 2.11331 +
 2.11332 +22 
 2.11333 +
 2.11334 +
 2.11335 +
 2.11336 +The Sea still Rises 
 2.11337 +
 2.11338 +Haggard Saint Antoine had had only one exultant week, in which to 
 2.11339 +soften his modicum of hard and bitter bread to such extent as he could, 
 2.11340 +with the relish of fraternal embraces and congratulations, when Madame 
 2.11341 +Defarge sat at her counter, as usual, presiding over the customers. Ma- 
 2.11342 +dame Defarge wore no rose in her head, for the great brotherhood of 
 2.11343 +Spies had become, even in one short week, extremely chary of trusting 
 2.11344 +themselves to the saint's mercies. The lamps across his streets had a 
 2.11345 +portentously elastic swing with them. 
 2.11346 +
 2.11347 +Madame Defarge, with her arms folded, sat in the morning light and 
 2.11348 +heat, contemplating the wine-shop and the street. In both, there were 
 2.11349 +several knots of loungers, squalid and miserable, but now with a mani- 
 2.11350 +fest sense of power enthroned on their distress. The raggedest nightcap, 
 2.11351 +awry on the wretchedest head, had this crooked significance in it: "I 
 2.11352 +know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in 
 2.11353 +myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of 
 2.11354 +this, to destroy life in you?" Every lean bare arm, that had been without 
 2.11355 +work before, had this work always ready for it now, that it could strike. 
 2.11356 +The fingers of the knitting women were vicious, with the experience that 
 2.11357 +they could tear. There was a change in the appearance of Saint Antoine; 
 2.11358 +the image had been hammering into this for hundreds of years, and the 
 2.11359 +last finishing blows had told mightily on the expression. 
 2.11360 +
 2.11361 +Madame Defarge sat observing it, with such suppressed approval as 
 2.11362 +was to be desired in the leader of the Saint Antoine women. One of her 
 2.11363 +sisterhood knitted beside her. The short, rather plump wife of a starved 
 2.11364 +grocer, and the mother of two children withal, this lieutenant had 
 2.11365 +already earned the complimentary name of The Vengeance. 
 2.11366 +
 2.11367 +"Hark!" said The Vengeance. "Listen, then! Who comes?" 
 2.11368 +
 2.11369 +
 2.11370 +
 2.11371 +224: 
 2.11372 +
 2.11373 +
 2.11374 +
 2.11375 +As if a train of powder laid from the outermost bound of Saint Antoine 
 2.11376 +Quarter to the wine-shop door, had been suddenly fired, a fast-spread- 
 2.11377 +ing murmur came rushing along. 
 2.11378 +
 2.11379 +"It is Defarge," said madame. "Silence, patriots!" 
 2.11380 +
 2.11381 +Defarge came in breathless, pulled off a red cap he wore, and looked 
 2.11382 +around him! "Listen, everywhere!" said madame again. "Listen to him!" 
 2.11383 +Defarge stood, panting, against a background of eager eyes and open 
 2.11384 +mouths, formed outside the door; all those within the wine-shop had 
 2.11385 +sprung to their feet. 
 2.11386 +
 2.11387 +"Say then, my husband. What is it?" 
 2.11388 +
 2.11389 +"News from the other world!" 
 2.11390 +
 2.11391 +"How, then?" cried madame, contemptuously. "The other world?" 
 2.11392 +
 2.11393 +"Does everybody here recall old Foulon, who told the famished people 
 2.11394 +that they might eat grass, and who died, and went to Hell?" 
 2.11395 +
 2.11396 +"Everybody!" from all throats. 
 2.11397 +
 2.11398 +"The news is of him. He is among us!" 
 2.11399 +
 2.11400 +"Among us!" from the universal throat again. "And dead?" 
 2.11401 +
 2.11402 +"Not dead! He feared us so much - and with reason - that he caused 
 2.11403 +himself to be represented as dead, and had a grand mock-funeral. But 
 2.11404 +they have found him alive, hiding in the country, and have brought him 
 2.11405 +in. I have seen him but now, on his way to the Hotel de Ville, a prisoner. 
 2.11406 +I have said that he had reason to fear us. Say all! Had he reason?" 
 2.11407 +
 2.11408 +Wretched old sinner of more than threescore years and ten, if he had 
 2.11409 +never known it yet, he would have known it in his heart of hearts if he 
 2.11410 +could have heard the answering cry. 
 2.11411 +
 2.11412 +A moment of profound silence followed. Defarge and his wife looked 
 2.11413 +steadfastly at one another. The Vengeance stooped, and the jar of a drum 
 2.11414 +was heard as she moved it at her feet behind the counter. 
 2.11415 +
 2.11416 +"Patriots!" said Defarge, in a determined voice, "are we ready?" 
 2.11417 +
 2.11418 +Instantly Madame Defarge's knife was in her girdle; the drum was 
 2.11419 +beating in the streets, as if it and a drummer had flown together by ma- 
 2.11420 +gic; and The Vengeance, uttering terrific shrieks, and flinging her arms 
 2.11421 +about her head like all the forty Furies at once, was tearing from house to 
 2.11422 +house, rousing the women. 
 2.11423 +
 2.11424 +The men were terrible, in the bloody-minded anger with which they 
 2.11425 +looked from windows, caught up what arms they had, and came pour- 
 2.11426 +ing down into the streets; but, the women were a sight to chill the 
 2.11427 +
 2.11428 +
 2.11429 +
 2.11430 +225 
 2.11431 +
 2.11432 +
 2.11433 +
 2.11434 +boldest. From such household occupations as their bare poverty yielded, 
 2.11435 +from their children, from their aged and their sick crouching on the bare 
 2.11436 +ground famished and naked, they ran out with streaming hair, urging 
 2.11437 +one another, and themselves, to madness with the wildest cries and ac- 
 2.11438 +tions. Villain Foulon taken, my sister! Old Foulon taken, my mother! 
 2.11439 +Miscreant Foulon taken, my daughter! Then, a score of others ran into 
 2.11440 +the midst of these, beating their breasts, tearing their hair, and scream- 
 2.11441 +ing, Foulon alive! Foulon who told the starving people they might eat 
 2.11442 +grass! Foulon who told my old father that he might eat grass, when I had 
 2.11443 +no bread to give him! Foulon who told my baby it might suck grass, 
 2.11444 +when these breasts where dry with want! O mother of God, this Foulon! 
 2.11445 +O Heaven our suffering! Hear me, my dead baby and my withered fath- 
 2.11446 +er: I swear on my knees, on these stones, to avenge you on Foulon! Hus- 
 2.11447 +bands, and brothers, and young men, Give us the blood of Foulon, Give 
 2.11448 +us the head of Foulon, Give us the heart of Foulon, Give us the body and 
 2.11449 +soul of Foulon, Rend Foulon to pieces, and dig him into the ground, that 
 2.11450 +grass may grow from him! With these cries, numbers of the women, 
 2.11451 +lashed into blind frenzy, whirled about, striking and tearing at their own 
 2.11452 +friends until they dropped into a passionate swoon, and were only saved 
 2.11453 +by the men belonging to them from being trampled under foot. 
 2.11454 +
 2.11455 +Nevertheless, not a moment was lost; not a moment! This Foulon was 
 2.11456 +at the Hotel de Ville, and might be loosed. Never, if Saint Antoine knew 
 2.11457 +his own sufferings, insults, and wrongs! Armed men and women flocked 
 2.11458 +out of the Quarter so fast, and drew even these last dregs after them with 
 2.11459 +such a force of suction, that within a quarter of an hour there was not a 
 2.11460 +human creature in Saint Antoine's bosom but a few old crones and the 
 2.11461 +wailing children. 
 2.11462 +
 2.11463 +No. They were all by that time choking the Hall of Examination where 
 2.11464 +this old man, ugly and wicked, was, and overflowing into the adjacent 
 2.11465 +open space and streets. The Defarges, husband and wife, The Vengeance, 
 2.11466 +and Jacques Three, were in the first press, and at no great distance from 
 2.11467 +him in the Hall. 
 2.11468 +
 2.11469 +"See!" cried madame, pointing with her knife. "See the old villain 
 2.11470 +bound with ropes. That was well done to tie a bunch of grass upon his 
 2.11471 +back. Ha, ha! That was well done. Let him eat it now!" Madame put her 
 2.11472 +knife under her arm, and clapped her hands as at a play. 
 2.11473 +
 2.11474 +The people immediately behind Madame Defarge, explaining the 
 2.11475 +cause of her satisfaction to those behind them, and those again explain- 
 2.11476 +ing to others, and those to others, the neighbouring streets resounded 
 2.11477 +
 2.11478 +
 2.11479 +
 2.11480 +226 
 2.11481 +
 2.11482 +
 2.11483 +
 2.11484 +with the clapping of hands. Similarly, during two or three hours of 
 2.11485 +drawl, and the winnowing of many bushels of words, Madame Defarge's 
 2.11486 +frequent expressions of impatience were taken up, with marvellous 
 2.11487 +quickness, at a distance: the more readily, because certain men who had 
 2.11488 +by some wonderful exercise of agility climbed up the external architec- 
 2.11489 +ture to look in from the windows, knew Madame Defarge well, and ac- 
 2.11490 +ted as a telegraph between her and the crowd outside the building. 
 2.11491 +
 2.11492 +At length the sun rose so high that it struck a kindly ray as of hope or 
 2.11493 +protection, directly down upon the old prisoner's head. The favour was 
 2.11494 +too much to bear; in an instant the barrier of dust and chaff that had 
 2.11495 +stood surprisingly long, went to the winds, and Saint Antoine had got 
 2.11496 +him! 
 2.11497 +
 2.11498 +It was known directly, to the furthest confines of the crowd. Defarge 
 2.11499 +had but sprung over a railing and a table, and folded the miserable 
 2.11500 +wretch in a deadly embrace - Madame Defarge had but followed and 
 2.11501 +turned her hand in one of the ropes with which he was tied - The Ven- 
 2.11502 +geance and Jacques Three were not yet up with them, and the men at the 
 2.11503 +windows had not yet swooped into the Hall, like birds of prey from their 
 2.11504 +high perches - when the cry seemed to go up, all over the city, "Bring 
 2.11505 +him out! Bring him to the lamp!" 
 2.11506 +
 2.11507 +Down, and up, and head foremost on the steps of the building; now, 
 2.11508 +on his knees; now, on his feet; now, on his back; dragged, and struck at, 
 2.11509 +and stifled by the bunches of grass and straw that were thrust into his 
 2.11510 +face by hundreds of hands; torn, bruised, panting, bleeding, yet always 
 2.11511 +entreating and beseeching for mercy; now full of vehement agony of ac- 
 2.11512 +tion, with a small clear space about him as the people drew one another 
 2.11513 +back that they might see; now, a log of dead wood drawn through a 
 2.11514 +forest of legs; he was hauled to the nearest street corner where one of the 
 2.11515 +fatal lamps swung, and there Madame Defarge let him go - as a cat 
 2.11516 +might have done to a mouse - and silently and composedly looked at 
 2.11517 +him while they made ready, and while he besought her: the women pas- 
 2.11518 +sionately screeching at him all the time, and the men sternly calling out 
 2.11519 +to have him killed with grass in his mouth. Once, he went aloft, and the 
 2.11520 +rope broke, and they caught him shrieking; twice, he went aloft, and the 
 2.11521 +rope broke, and they caught him shrieking; then, the rope was merciful, 
 2.11522 +and held him, and his head was soon upon a pike, with grass enough in 
 2.11523 +the mouth for all Saint Antoine to dance at the sight of. 
 2.11524 +
 2.11525 +Nor was this the end of the day's bad work, for Saint Antoine so 
 2.11526 +shouted and danced his angry blood up, that it boiled again, on hearing 
 2.11527 +
 2.11528 +
 2.11529 +
 2.11530 +227 
 2.11531 +
 2.11532 +
 2.11533 +
 2.11534 +when the day closed in that the son-in-law of the despatched, another of 
 2.11535 +the people's enemies and insulters, was coming into Paris under a guard 
 2.11536 +five hundred strong, in cavalry alone. Saint Antoine wrote his crimes on 
 2.11537 +flaring sheets of paper, seized him - would have torn him out of the 
 2.11538 +breast of an army to bear Foulon company - set his head and heart on 
 2.11539 +pikes, and carried the three spoils of the day, in Wolf-procession through 
 2.11540 +the streets. 
 2.11541 +
 2.11542 +Not before dark night did the men and women come back to the chil- 
 2.11543 +dren, wailing and breadless. Then, the miserable bakers' shops were be- 
 2.11544 +set by long files of them, patiently waiting to buy bad bread; and while 
 2.11545 +they waited with stomachs faint and empty, they beguiled the time by 
 2.11546 +embracing one another on the triumphs of the day, and achieving them 
 2.11547 +again in gossip. Gradually, these strings of ragged people shortened and 
 2.11548 +frayed away; and then poor lights began to shine in high windows, and 
 2.11549 +slender fires were made in the streets, at which neighbours cooked in 
 2.11550 +common, afterwards supping at their doors. 
 2.11551 +
 2.11552 +Scanty and insufficient suppers those, and innocent of meat, as of most 
 2.11553 +other sauce to wretched bread. Yet, human fellowship infused some 
 2.11554 +nourishment into the flinty viands, and struck some sparks of cheerful- 
 2.11555 +ness out of them. Fathers and mothers who had had their full share in 
 2.11556 +the worst of the day, played gently with their meagre children; and lov- 
 2.11557 +ers, with such a world around them and before them, loved and hoped. 
 2.11558 +
 2.11559 +It was almost morning, when Defarge's wine-shop parted with its last 
 2.11560 +knot of customers, and Monsieur Defarge said to madame his wife, in 
 2.11561 +husky tones, while fastening the door: 
 2.11562 +
 2.11563 +"At last it is come, my dear!" 
 2.11564 +
 2.11565 +"Eh well!" returned madame. "Almost." 
 2.11566 +
 2.11567 +Saint Antoine slept, the Defarges slept: even The Vengeance slept with 
 2.11568 +her starved grocer, and the drum was at rest. The drum's was the only 
 2.11569 +voice in Saint Antoine that blood and hurry had not changed. The Ven- 
 2.11570 +geance, as custodian of the drum, could have wakened him up and had 
 2.11571 +the same speech out of him as before the Bastille fell, or old Foulon was 
 2.11572 +seized; not so with the hoarse tones of the men and women in Saint An- 
 2.11573 +toine's bosom. 
 2.11574 +
 2.11575 +
 2.11576 +
 2.11577 +228 
 2.11578 +
 2.11579 +
 2.11580 +
 2.11581 +Chapter 
 2.11582 +
 2.11583 +
 2.11584 +
 2.11585 +23 
 2.11586 +
 2.11587 +
 2.11588 +
 2.11589 +Fire Rises 
 2.11590 +
 2.11591 +There was a change on the village where the fountain fell, and where 
 2.11592 +the mender of roads went forth daily to hammer out of the stones on the 
 2.11593 +highway such morsels of bread as might serve for patches to hold his 
 2.11594 +poor ignorant soul and his poor reduced body together. The prison on 
 2.11595 +the crag was not so dominant as of yore; there were soldiers to guard it, 
 2.11596 +but not many; there were officers to guard the soldiers, but not one of 
 2.11597 +them knew what his men would do - beyond this: that it would prob- 
 2.11598 +ably not be what he was ordered. 
 2.11599 +
 2.11600 +Far and wide lay a ruined country, yielding nothing but desolation. 
 2.11601 +Every green leaf, every blade of grass and blade of grain, was as shriv- 
 2.11602 +elled and poor as the miserable people. Everything was bowed down, 
 2.11603 +dejected, oppressed, and broken. Habitations, fences, domesticated an- 
 2.11604 +imals, men, women, children, and the soil that bore them - all worn out. 
 2.11605 +
 2.11606 +Monseigneur (often a most worthy individual gentleman) was a na- 
 2.11607 +tional blessing, gave a chivalrous tone to things, was a polite example of 
 2.11608 +luxurious and shining fife, and a great deal more to equal purpose; nev- 
 2.11609 +ertheless, Monseigneur as a class had, somehow or other, brought things 
 2.11610 +to this. Strange that Creation, designed expressly for Monseigneur, 
 2.11611 +should be so soon wrung dry and squeezed out! There must be 
 2.11612 +something short-sighted in the eternal arrangements, surely! Thus it was, 
 2.11613 +however; and the last drop of blood having been extracted from the 
 2.11614 +flints, and the last screw of the rack having been turned so often that its 
 2.11615 +purchase crumbled, and it now turned and turned with nothing to bite, 
 2.11616 +Monseigneur began to run away from a phenomenon so low and 
 2.11617 +unaccountable. 
 2.11618 +
 2.11619 +But, this was not the change on the village, and on many a village like 
 2.11620 +it. For scores of years gone by, Monseigneur had squeezed it and wrung 
 2.11621 +it, and had seldom graced it with his presence except for the pleasures of 
 2.11622 +the chase - now, found in hunting the people; now, found in hunting the 
 2.11623 +beasts, for whose preservation Monseigneur made edifying spaces of 
 2.11624 +
 2.11625 +
 2.11626 +
 2.11627 +229 
 2.11628 +
 2.11629 +
 2.11630 +
 2.11631 +barbarous and barren wilderness. No. The change consisted in the ap- 
 2.11632 +pearance of strange faces of low caste, rather than in the disappearance 
 2.11633 +of the high caste, chiselled, and otherwise beautified and beautifying fea- 
 2.11634 +tures of Monseigneur. 
 2.11635 +
 2.11636 +For, in these times, as the mender of roads worked, solitary, in the 
 2.11637 +dust, not often troubling himself to reflect that dust he was and to dust 
 2.11638 +he must return, being for the most part too much occupied in thinking 
 2.11639 +how little he had for supper and how much more he would eat if he had 
 2.11640 +it - in these times, as he raised his eyes from his lonely labour, and 
 2.11641 +viewed the prospect, he would see some rough figure approaching on 
 2.11642 +foot, the like of which was once a rarity in those parts, but was now a fre- 
 2.11643 +quent presence. As it advanced, the mender of roads would discern 
 2.11644 +without surprise, that it was a shaggy-haired man, of almost barbarian 
 2.11645 +aspect, tall, in wooden shoes that were clumsy even to the eyes of a 
 2.11646 +mender of roads, grim, rough, swart, steeped in the mud and dust of 
 2.11647 +many highways, dank with the marshy moisture of many low grounds, 
 2.11648 +sprinkled with the thorns and leaves and moss of many byways through 
 2.11649 +woods. 
 2.11650 +
 2.11651 +Such a man came upon him, like a ghost, at noon in the July weather, 
 2.11652 +as he sat on his heap of stones under a bank, taking such shelter as he 
 2.11653 +could get from a shower of hail. 
 2.11654 +
 2.11655 +The man looked at him, looked at the village in the hollow, at the mill, 
 2.11656 +and at the prison on the crag. When he had identified these objects in 
 2.11657 +what benighted mind he had, he said, in a dialect that was just 
 2.11658 +intelligible: 
 2.11659 +
 2.11660 +"How goes it, Jacques?" 
 2.11661 +
 2.11662 +"All well, Jacques." 
 2.11663 +
 2.11664 +"Touch then!" 
 2.11665 +
 2.11666 +They joined hands, and the man sat down on the heap of stones. 
 2.11667 +
 2.11668 +"No dinner?" 
 2.11669 +
 2.11670 +"Nothing but supper now," said the mender of roads, with a hungry 
 2.11671 +face. 
 2.11672 +
 2.11673 +"It is the fashion," growled the man. "I meet no dinner anywhere." 
 2.11674 +
 2.11675 +He took out a blackened pipe, filled it, lighted it with flint and steel, 
 2.11676 +pulled at it until it was in a bright glow: then, suddenly held it from him 
 2.11677 +and dropped something into it from between his finger and thumb, that 
 2.11678 +blazed and went out in a puff of smoke. 
 2.11679 +
 2.11680 +
 2.11681 +
 2.11682 +230 
 2.11683 +
 2.11684 +
 2.11685 +
 2.11686 +"Touch then." It was the turn of the mender of roads to say it this time, 
 2.11687 +after observing these operations. They again joined hands. 
 2.11688 +
 2.11689 +"To-night?" said the mender of roads. 
 2.11690 +
 2.11691 +"To-night," said the man, putting the pipe in his mouth. 
 2.11692 +
 2.11693 +"Where?" 
 2.11694 +
 2.11695 +"Here." 
 2.11696 +
 2.11697 +He and the mender of roads sat on the heap of stones looking silently 
 2.11698 +at one another, with the hail driving in between them like a pigmy 
 2.11699 +charge of bayonets, until the sky began to clear over the village. 
 2.11700 +
 2.11701 +"Show me!" said the traveller then, moving to the brow of the hill. 
 2.11702 +
 2.11703 +"See!" returned the mender of roads, with extended finger. "You go 
 2.11704 +down here, and straight through the street, and past the fountain - " 
 2.11705 +
 2.11706 +"To the Devil with all that!" interrupted the other, rolling his eye over 
 2.11707 +the landscape. "I go through no streets and past no fountains. Well?" 
 2.11708 +
 2.11709 +"Well! About two leagues beyond the summit of that hill above the 
 2.11710 +village." 
 2.11711 +
 2.11712 +"Good. When do you cease to work?" 
 2.11713 +
 2.11714 +"At sunset." 
 2.11715 +
 2.11716 +"Will you wake me, before departing? I have walked two nights 
 2.11717 +without resting. Let me finish my pipe, and I shall sleep like a child. Will 
 2.11718 +you wake me?" 
 2.11719 +
 2.11720 +"Surely." 
 2.11721 +
 2.11722 +The wayfarer smoked his pipe out, put it in his breast, slipped off his 
 2.11723 +great wooden shoes, and lay down on his back on the heap of stones. He 
 2.11724 +was fast asleep directly. 
 2.11725 +
 2.11726 +As the road-mender plied his dusty labour, and the hail-clouds, rolling 
 2.11727 +away, revealed bright bars and streaks of sky which were responded to 
 2.11728 +by silver gleams upon the landscape, the little man (who wore a red cap 
 2.11729 +now, in place of his blue one) seemed fascinated by the figure on the 
 2.11730 +heap of stones. His eyes were so often turned towards it, that he used his 
 2.11731 +tools mechanically, and, one would have said, to very poor account. The 
 2.11732 +bronze face, the shaggy black hair and beard, the coarse woollen red cap, 
 2.11733 +the rough medley dress of home-spun stuff and hairy skins of beasts, the 
 2.11734 +powerful frame attenuated by spare living, and the sullen and desperate 
 2.11735 +compression of the lips in sleep, inspired the mender of roads with awe. 
 2.11736 +The traveller had travelled far, and his feet were footsore, and his ankles 
 2.11737 +chafed and bleeding; his great shoes, stuffed with leaves and grass, had 
 2.11738 +
 2.11739 +
 2.11740 +
 2.11741 +231 
 2.11742 +
 2.11743 +
 2.11744 +
 2.11745 +been heavy to drag over the many long leagues, and his clothes were 
 2.11746 +chafed into holes, as he himself was into sores. Stooping down beside 
 2.11747 +him, the road-mender tried to get a peep at secret weapons in his breast 
 2.11748 +or where not; but, in vain, for he slept with his arms crossed upon him, 
 2.11749 +and set as resolutely as his lips. Fortified towns with their stockades, 
 2.11750 +guard-houses, gates, trenches, and drawbridges, seemed to the mender 
 2.11751 +of roads, to be so much air as against this figure. And when he lifted his 
 2.11752 +eyes from it to the horizon and looked around, he saw in his small fancy 
 2.11753 +similar figures, stopped by no obstacle, tending to centres all over 
 2.11754 +France. 
 2.11755 +
 2.11756 +The man slept on, indifferent to showers of hail and intervals of 
 2.11757 +brightness, to sunshine on his face and shadow, to the paltering lumps of 
 2.11758 +dull ice on his body and the diamonds into which the sun changed them, 
 2.11759 +until the sun was low in the west, and the sky was glowing. Then, the 
 2.11760 +mender of roads having got his tools together and all things ready to go 
 2.11761 +down into the village, roused him. 
 2.11762 +
 2.11763 +"Good!" said the sleeper, rising on his elbow. "Two leagues beyond 
 2.11764 +the summit of the hill?" 
 2.11765 +
 2.11766 +"About." 
 2.11767 +
 2.11768 +"About. Good!" 
 2.11769 +
 2.11770 +The mender of roads went home, with the dust going on before him 
 2.11771 +according to the set of the wind, and was soon at the fountain, squeezing 
 2.11772 +himself in among the lean kine brought there to drink, and appearing 
 2.11773 +even to whisper to them in his whispering to all the village. When the 
 2.11774 +village had taken its poor supper, it did not creep to bed, as it usually 
 2.11775 +did, but came out of doors again, and remained there. A curious conta- 
 2.11776 +gion of whispering was upon it, and also, when it gathered together at 
 2.11777 +the fountain in the dark, another curious contagion of looking expect- 
 2.11778 +antly at the sky in one direction only. Monsieur Gabelle, chief function- 
 2.11779 +ary of the place, became uneasy; went out on his house-top alone, and 
 2.11780 +looked in that direction too; glanced down from behind his chimneys at 
 2.11781 +the darkening faces by the fountain below, and sent word to the sacristan 
 2.11782 +who kept the keys of the church, that there might be need to ring the 
 2.11783 +tocsin by-and-bye. 
 2.11784 +
 2.11785 +The night deepened. The trees environing the old chateau, keeping its 
 2.11786 +solitary state apart, moved in a rising wind, as though they threatened 
 2.11787 +the pile of building massive and dark in the gloom. Up the two terrace 
 2.11788 +flights of steps the rain ran wildly, and beat at the great door, like a swift 
 2.11789 +messenger rousing those within; uneasy rushes of wind went through 
 2.11790 +
 2.11791 +
 2.11792 +
 2.11793 +232 
 2.11794 +
 2.11795 +
 2.11796 +
 2.11797 +the hall, among the old spears and knives, and passed lamenting up the 
 2.11798 +stairs, and shook the curtains of the bed where the last Marquis had 
 2.11799 +slept. East, West, North, and South, through the woods, four heavy- 
 2.11800 +treading, unkempt figures crushed the high grass and cracked the 
 2.11801 +branches, striding on cautiously to come together in the courtyard. Four 
 2.11802 +lights broke out there, and moved away in different directions, and all 
 2.11803 +was black again. 
 2.11804 +
 2.11805 +But, not for long. Presently, the chateau began to make itself strangely 
 2.11806 +visible by some light of its own, as though it were growing luminous. 
 2.11807 +Then, a flickering streak played behind the architecture of the front, pick- 
 2.11808 +ing out transparent places, and showing where balustrades, arches, and 
 2.11809 +windows were. Then it soared higher, and grew broader and brighter. 
 2.11810 +Soon, from a score of the great windows, flames burst forth, and the 
 2.11811 +stone faces awakened, stared out of fire. 
 2.11812 +
 2.11813 +A faint murmur arose about the house from the few people who were 
 2.11814 +left there, and there was a saddling of a horse and riding away. There 
 2.11815 +was spurring and splashing through the darkness, and bridle was drawn 
 2.11816 +in the space by the village fountain, and the horse in a foam stood at 
 2.11817 +Monsieur Gabelle's door. "Help, Gabelle! Help, every one!" The tocsin 
 2.11818 +rang impatiently, but other help (if that were any) there was none. The 
 2.11819 +mender of roads, and two hundred and fifty particular friends, stood 
 2.11820 +with folded arms at the fountain, looking at the pillar of fire in the sky. 
 2.11821 +"It must be forty feet high," said they, grimly; and never moved. 
 2.11822 +
 2.11823 +The rider from the chateau, and the horse in a foam, clattered away 
 2.11824 +through the village, and galloped up the stony steep, to the prison on the 
 2.11825 +crag. At the gate, a group of officers were looking at the fire; removed 
 2.11826 +from them, a group of soldiers. "Help, gentlemen - officers! The chateau 
 2.11827 +is on fire; valuable objects may be saved from the flames by timely aid! 
 2.11828 +Help, help!" The officers looked towards the soldiers who looked at the 
 2.11829 +fire; gave no orders; and answered, with shrugs and biting of lips, "It 
 2.11830 +must burn." 
 2.11831 +
 2.11832 +As the rider rattled down the hill again and through the street, the vil- 
 2.11833 +lage was illuminating. The mender of roads, and the two hundred and 
 2.11834 +fifty particular friends, inspired as one man and woman by the idea of 
 2.11835 +lighting up, had darted into their houses, and were putting candles in 
 2.11836 +every dull little pane of glass. The general scarcity of everything, occa- 
 2.11837 +sioned candles to be borrowed in a rather peremptory manner of Mon- 
 2.11838 +sieur Gabelle; and in a moment of reluctance and hesitation on that func- 
 2.11839 +tionary's part, the mender of roads, once so submissive to authority, had 
 2.11840 +
 2.11841 +
 2.11842 +
 2.11843 +233 
 2.11844 +
 2.11845 +
 2.11846 +
 2.11847 +remarked that carriages were good to make bonfires with, and that post- 
 2.11848 +horses would roast. 
 2.11849 +
 2.11850 +The chateau was left to itself to flame and burn. In the roaring and ra- 
 2.11851 +ging of the conflagration, a red-hot wind, driving straight from the in- 
 2.11852 +fernal regions, seemed to be blowing the edifice away. With the rising 
 2.11853 +and falling of the blaze, the stone faces showed as if they were in tor- 
 2.11854 +ment. When great masses of stone and timber fell, the face with the two 
 2.11855 +dints in the nose became obscured: anon struggled out of the smoke 
 2.11856 +again, as if it were the face of the cruel Marquis, burning at the stake and 
 2.11857 +contending with the fire. 
 2.11858 +
 2.11859 +The chateau burned; the nearest trees, laid hold of by the fire, scorched 
 2.11860 +and shrivelled; trees at a distance, fired by the four fierce figures, begirt 
 2.11861 +the blazing edifice with a new forest of smoke. Molten lead and iron 
 2.11862 +boiled in the marble basin of the fountain; the water ran dry; the extin- 
 2.11863 +guisher tops of the towers vanished like ice before the heat, and trickled 
 2.11864 +down into four rugged wells of flame. Great rents and splits branched 
 2.11865 +out in the solid walls, like crystallisation; stupefied birds wheeled about 
 2.11866 +and dropped into the furnace; four fierce figures trudged away, East, 
 2.11867 +West, North, and South, along the night- enshrouded roads, guided by 
 2.11868 +the beacon they had lighted, towards their next destination. The illumin- 
 2.11869 +ated village had seized hold of the tocsin, and, abolishing the lawful 
 2.11870 +ringer, rang for joy. 
 2.11871 +
 2.11872 +Not only that; but the village, light-headed with famine, fire, and bell- 
 2.11873 +ringing, and bethinking itself that Monsieur Gabelle had to do with the 
 2.11874 +collection of rent and taxes - though it was but a small instalment of 
 2.11875 +taxes, and no rent at all, that Gabelle had got in those latter 
 2.11876 +days - became impatient for an interview with him, and, surrounding 
 2.11877 +his house, summoned him to come forth for personal conference. 
 2.11878 +Whereupon, Monsieur Gabelle did heavily bar his door, and retire to 
 2.11879 +hold counsel with himself. The result of that conference was, that Gabelle 
 2.11880 +again withdrew himself to his housetop behind his stack of chimneys; 
 2.11881 +this time resolved, if his door were broken in (he was a small Southern 
 2.11882 +man of retaliative temperament), to pitch himself head foremost over the 
 2.11883 +parapet, and crush a man or two below. 
 2.11884 +
 2.11885 +Probably, Monsieur Gabelle passed a long night up there, with the dis- 
 2.11886 +tant chateau for fire and candle, and the beating at his door, combined 
 2.11887 +with the joy-ringing, for music; not to mention his having an ill-omened 
 2.11888 +lamp slung across the road before his posting-house gate, which the vil- 
 2.11889 +lage showed a lively inclination to displace in his favour. A trying 
 2.11890 +
 2.11891 +
 2.11892 +
 2.11893 +234 
 2.11894 +
 2.11895 +
 2.11896 +
 2.11897 +suspense, to be passing a whole summer night on the brink of the black 
 2.11898 +ocean, ready to take that plunge into it upon which Monsieur Gabelle 
 2.11899 +had resolved! But, the friendly dawn appearing at last, and the rush- 
 2.11900 +candles of the village guttering out, the people happily dispersed, and 
 2.11901 +Monsieur Gabelle came down bringing his life with him for that while. 
 2.11902 +
 2.11903 +Within a hundred miles, and in the light of other fires, there were oth- 
 2.11904 +er functionaries less fortunate, that night and other nights, whom the 
 2.11905 +rising sun found hanging across once-peaceful streets, where they had 
 2.11906 +been born and bred; also, there were other villagers and townspeople 
 2.11907 +less fortunate than the mender of roads and his fellows, upon whom the 
 2.11908 +functionaries and soldiery turned with success, and whom they strung 
 2.11909 +up in their turn. But, the fierce figures were steadily wending East, West, 
 2.11910 +North, and South, be that as it would; and whosoever hung, fire burned. 
 2.11911 +The altitude of the gallows that would turn to water and quench it, no 
 2.11912 +functionary, by any stretch of mathematics, was able to calculate 
 2.11913 +successfully. 
 2.11914 +
 2.11915 +
 2.11916 +
 2.11917 +235 
 2.11918 +
 2.11919 +
 2.11920 +
 2.11921 +Chapter 
 2.11922 +
 2.11923 +
 2.11924 +
 2.11925 +24 
 2.11926 +
 2.11927 +
 2.11928 +
 2.11929 +Drawn to the Loadstone Rock 
 2.11930 +
 2.11931 +In such risings of fire and risings of sea - the firm earth shaken by the 
 2.11932 +rushes of an angry ocean which had now no ebb, but was always on the 
 2.11933 +flow, higher and higher, to the terror and wonder of the beholders on the 
 2.11934 +shore - three years of tempest were consumed. Three more birthdays of 
 2.11935 +little Lucie had been woven by the golden thread into the peaceful tissue 
 2.11936 +of the life of her home. 
 2.11937 +
 2.11938 +Many a night and many a day had its inmates listened to the echoes in 
 2.11939 +the corner, with hearts that failed them when they heard the thronging 
 2.11940 +feet. For, the footsteps had become to their minds as the footsteps of a 
 2.11941 +people, tumultuous under a red flag and with their country declared in 
 2.11942 +danger, changed into wild beasts, by terrible enchantment long persisted 
 2.11943 +in. 
 2.11944 +
 2.11945 +Monseigneur, as a class, had dissociated himself from the phenomen- 
 2.11946 +on of his not being appreciated: of his being so little wanted in France, as 
 2.11947 +to incur considerable danger of receiving his dismissal from it, and this 
 2.11948 +life together. Like the fabled rustic who raised the Devil with infinite 
 2.11949 +pains, and was so terrified at the sight of him that he could ask the 
 2.11950 +Enemy no question, but immediately fled; so, Monseigneur, after boldly 
 2.11951 +reading the Lord's Prayer backwards for a great number of years, and 
 2.11952 +performing many other potent spells for compelling the Evil One, no 
 2.11953 +sooner beheld him in his terrors than he took to his noble heels. 
 2.11954 +
 2.11955 +The shining Bull's Eye of the Court was gone, or it would have been 
 2.11956 +the mark for a hurricane of national bullets. It had never been a good eye 
 2.11957 +to see with - had long had the mote in it of Lucifer's pride, Sard- 
 2.11958 +ana - palus's luxury, and a mole's blindness - but it had dropped out 
 2.11959 +and was gone. The Court, from that exclusive inner circle to its outer- 
 2.11960 +most rotten ring of intrigue, corruption, and dissimulation, was all gone 
 2.11961 +together. Royalty was gone; had been besieged in its Palace and 
 2.11962 +"suspended," when the last tidings came over. 
 2.11963 +
 2.11964 +
 2.11965 +
 2.11966 +236 
 2.11967 +
 2.11968 +
 2.11969 +
 2.11970 +The August of the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety-two 
 2.11971 +was come, and Monseigneur was by this time scattered far and wide. 
 2.11972 +
 2.11973 +As was natural, the head-quarters and great gathering-place of Mon- 
 2.11974 +seigneur, in London, was Tellson's Bank. Spirits are supposed to haunt 
 2.11975 +the places where their bodies most resorted, and Monseigneur without a 
 2.11976 +guinea haunted the spot where his guineas used to be. Moreover, it was 
 2.11977 +the spot to which such French intelligence as was most to be relied upon, 
 2.11978 +came quickest. Again: Tellson's was a munificent house, and extended 
 2.11979 +great liberality to old customers who had fallen from their high estate. 
 2.11980 +Again: those nobles who had seen the coming storm in time, and anticip- 
 2.11981 +ating plunder or confiscation, had made provident remittances to Tell- 
 2.11982 +son's, were always to be heard of there by their needy brethren. To 
 2.11983 +which it must be added that every new-comer from France reported 
 2.11984 +himself and his tidings at Tellson's, almost as a matter of course. For 
 2.11985 +such variety of reasons, Tellson's was at that time, as to French intelli- 
 2.11986 +gence, a kind of High Exchange; and this was so well known to the pub- 
 2.11987 +lic, and the inquiries made there were in consequence so numerous, that 
 2.11988 +Tellson's sometimes wrote the latest news out in a line or so and posted 
 2.11989 +it in the Bank windows, for all who ran through Temple Bar to read. 
 2.11990 +
 2.11991 +On a steaming, misty afternoon, Mr. Lorry sat at his desk, and Charles 
 2.11992 +Darnay stood leaning on it, talking with him in a low voice. The peniten- 
 2.11993 +tial den once set apart for interviews with the House, was now the news- 
 2.11994 +Exchange, and was filled to overflowing. It was within half an hour or so 
 2.11995 +of the time of closing. 
 2.11996 +
 2.11997 +"But, although you are the youngest man that ever lived," said Charles 
 2.11998 +Darnay, rather hesitating, "I must still suggest to you - " 
 2.11999 +
 2.12000 +"I understand. That I am too old?" said Mr. Lorry. 
 2.12001 +
 2.12002 +"Unsettled weather, a long journey, uncertain means of travelling, a 
 2.12003 +disorganised country, a city that may not be even safe for you." 
 2.12004 +
 2.12005 +"My dear Charles," said Mr. Lorry, with cheerful confidence, "you 
 2.12006 +touch some of the reasons for my going: not for my staying away. It is 
 2.12007 +safe enough for me; nobody will care to interfere with an old fellow of 
 2.12008 +hard upon fourscore when there are so many people there much better 
 2.12009 +worth interfering with. As to its being a disorganised city, if it were not a 
 2.12010 +disorganised city there would be no occasion to send somebody from 
 2.12011 +our House here to our House there, who knows the city and the busi- 
 2.12012 +ness, of old, and is in Tellson's confidence. As to the uncertain travelling, 
 2.12013 +the long journey, and the winter weather, if I were not prepared to 
 2.12014 +
 2.12015 +
 2.12016 +
 2.12017 +237 
 2.12018 +
 2.12019 +
 2.12020 +
 2.12021 +submit myself to a few inconveniences for the sake of Tellson's, after all 
 2.12022 +these years, who ought to be?" 
 2.12023 +
 2.12024 +"I wish I were going myself," said Charles Darnay, somewhat rest- 
 2.12025 +lessly, and like one thinking aloud. 
 2.12026 +
 2.12027 +"Indeed! You are a pretty fellow to object and advise!" exclaimed Mr. 
 2.12028 +Lorry. "You wish you were going yourself? And you a Frenchman born? 
 2.12029 +You are a wise counsellor." 
 2.12030 +
 2.12031 +"My dear Mr. Lorry, it is because I am a Frenchman born, that the 
 2.12032 +thought (which I did not mean to utter here, however) has passed 
 2.12033 +through my mind often. One cannot help thinking, having had some 
 2.12034 +sympathy for the miserable people, and having abandoned something to 
 2.12035 +them," he spoke here in his former thoughtful manner, "that one might 
 2.12036 +be listened to, and might have the power to persuade to some restraint. 
 2.12037 +Only last night, after you had left us, when I was talking to Lucie - " 
 2.12038 +
 2.12039 +"When you were talking to Lucie," Mr. Lorry repeated. "Yes. I wonder 
 2.12040 +you are not ashamed to mention the name of Lucie! Wishing you were 
 2.12041 +going to France at this time of day!" 
 2.12042 +
 2.12043 +"However, I am not going," said Charles Darnay, with a smile. "It is 
 2.12044 +more to the purpose that you say you are." 
 2.12045 +
 2.12046 +"And I am, in plain reality. The truth is, my dear Charles," Mr. Lorry 
 2.12047 +glanced at the distant House, and lowered his voice, "you can have no 
 2.12048 +conception of the difficulty with which our business is transacted, and of 
 2.12049 +the peril in which our books and papers over yonder are involved. The 
 2.12050 +Lord above knows what the compromising consequences would be to 
 2.12051 +numbers of people, if some of our documents were seized or destroyed; 
 2.12052 +and they might be, at any time, you know, for who can say that Paris is 
 2.12053 +not set afire to-day, or sacked to-morrow! Now, a judicious selection 
 2.12054 +from these with the least possible delay, and the burying of them, or oth- 
 2.12055 +erwise getting of them out of harm's way, is within the power (without 
 2.12056 +loss of precious time) of scarcely any one but myself, if any one. And 
 2.12057 +shall I hang back, when Tellson's knows this and says this - Tellson's, 
 2.12058 +whose bread I have eaten these sixty years - because I am a little stiff 
 2.12059 +about the joints? Why, I am a boy, sir, to half a dozen old codgers here!" 
 2.12060 +
 2.12061 +"How I admire the gallantry of your youthful spirit, Mr. Lorry." 
 2.12062 +
 2.12063 +"Tut! Nonsense, sir! - And, my dear Charles," said Mr. Lorry, glancing 
 2.12064 +at the House again, "you are to remember, that getting things out of Par- 
 2.12065 +is at this present time, no matter what things, is next to an impossibility. 
 2.12066 +Papers and precious matters were this very day brought to us here (I 
 2.12067 +
 2.12068 +
 2.12069 +
 2.12070 +238 
 2.12071 +
 2.12072 +
 2.12073 +
 2.12074 +speak in strict confidence; it is not business-like to whisper it, even to 
 2.12075 +you), by the strangest bearers you can imagine, every one of whom had 
 2.12076 +his head hanging on by a single hair as he passed the Barriers. At anoth- 
 2.12077 +er time, our parcels would come and go, as easily as in business-like Old 
 2.12078 +England; but now, everything is stopped." 
 2.12079 +
 2.12080 +"And do you really go to-night?" 
 2.12081 +
 2.12082 +"I really go to-night, for the case has become too pressing to admit of 
 2.12083 +delay." 
 2.12084 +
 2.12085 +"And do you take no one with you?" 
 2.12086 +
 2.12087 +"All sorts of people have been proposed to me, but I will have nothing 
 2.12088 +to say to any of them. I intend to take Jerry. Jerry has been my body- 
 2.12089 +guard on Sunday nights for a long time past and I am used to him. 
 2.12090 +Nobody will suspect Jerry of being anything but an English bull-dog, or 
 2.12091 +of having any design in his head but to fly at anybody who touches his 
 2.12092 +master." 
 2.12093 +
 2.12094 +"I must say again that I heartily admire your gallantry and 
 2.12095 +youthfulness." 
 2.12096 +
 2.12097 +"I must say again, nonsense, nonsense! When I have executed this little 
 2.12098 +commission, I shall, perhaps, accept Tellson's proposal to retire and live 
 2.12099 +at my ease. Time enough, then, to think about growing old." 
 2.12100 +
 2.12101 +This dialogue had taken place at Mr. Lorry's usual desk, with Monsei- 
 2.12102 +gneur swarming within a yard or two of it, boastful of what he would do 
 2.12103 +to avenge himself on the rascal-people before long. It was too much the 
 2.12104 +way of Monseigneur under his reverses as a refugee, and it was much 
 2.12105 +too much the way of native British orthodoxy, to talk of this terrible Re- 
 2.12106 +volution as if it were the only harvest ever known under the skies that 
 2.12107 +had not been sown - as if nothing had ever been done, or omitted to be 
 2.12108 +done, that had led to it - as if observers of the wretched millions in 
 2.12109 +France, and of the misused and perverted resources that should have 
 2.12110 +made them prosperous, had not seen it inevitably coming, years before, 
 2.12111 +and had not in plain words recorded what they saw. Such vapouring, 
 2.12112 +combined with the extravagant plots of Monseigneur for the restoration 
 2.12113 +of a state of things that had utterly exhausted itself, and worn out 
 2.12114 +Heaven and earth as well as itself, was hard to be endured without some 
 2.12115 +remonstrance by any sane man who knew the truth. And it was such va- 
 2.12116 +pouring all about his ears, like a troublesome confusion of blood in his 
 2.12117 +own head, added to a latent uneasiness in his mind, which had already 
 2.12118 +made Charles Darnay restless, and which still kept him so. 
 2.12119 +
 2.12120 +
 2.12121 +
 2.12122 +239 
 2.12123 +
 2.12124 +
 2.12125 +
 2.12126 +Among the talkers, was Stryver, of the King's Bench Bar, far on his 
 2.12127 +way to state promotion, and, therefore, loud on the theme: broaching to 
 2.12128 +Monseigneur, his devices for blowing the people up and exterminating 
 2.12129 +them from the face of the earth, and doing without them: and for accom- 
 2.12130 +plishing many similar objects akin in their nature to the abolition of 
 2.12131 +eagles by sprinkling salt on the tails of the race. Him, Darnay heard with 
 2.12132 +a particular feeling of objection; and Darnay stood divided between go- 
 2.12133 +ing away that he might hear no more, and remaining to interpose his 
 2.12134 +word, when the thing that was to be, went on to shape itself out. 
 2.12135 +
 2.12136 +The House approached Mr. Lorry, and laying a soiled and unopened 
 2.12137 +letter before him, asked if he had yet discovered any traces of the person 
 2.12138 +to whom it was addressed? The House laid the letter down so close to 
 2.12139 +Darnay that he saw the direction - the more quickly because it was his 
 2.12140 +own right name. The address, turned into English, ran: 
 2.12141 +
 2.12142 +"Very pressing. To Monsieur heretofore the Marquis St. Evremonde, of 
 2.12143 +France. Confided to the cares of Messrs. Tellson and Co., Bankers, Lon- 
 2.12144 +don, England." 
 2.12145 +
 2.12146 +On the marriage morning, Doctor Manette had made it his one urgent 
 2.12147 +and express request to Charles Darnay, that the secret of this name 
 2.12148 +should be - unless he, the Doctor, dissolved the obligation - kept inviol- 
 2.12149 +ate between them. Nobody else knew it to be his name; his own wife had 
 2.12150 +no suspicion of the fact; Mr. Lorry could have none. 
 2.12151 +
 2.12152 +"No," said Mr. Lorry, in reply to the House; "I have referred it, I think, 
 2.12153 +to everybody now here, and no one can tell me where this gentleman is 
 2.12154 +to be found." 
 2.12155 +
 2.12156 +The hands of the clock verging upon the hour of closing the Bank, 
 2.12157 +there was a general set of the current of talkers past Mr. Lorry's desk. He 
 2.12158 +held the letter out inquiringly; and Monseigneur looked at it, in the per- 
 2.12159 +son of this plotting and indignant refugee; and Monseigneur looked at it 
 2.12160 +in the person of that plotting and indignant refugee; and This, That, and 
 2.12161 +The Other, all had something disparaging to say, in French or in English, 
 2.12162 +concerning the Marquis who was not to be found. 
 2.12163 +
 2.12164 +"Nephew, I believe - but in any case degenerate successor - of the pol- 
 2.12165 +ished Marquis who was murdered," said one. "Happy to say, I never 
 2.12166 +knew him." 
 2.12167 +
 2.12168 +"A craven who abandoned his post," said another - this Monseigneur 
 2.12169 +had been got out of Paris, legs uppermost and half suffocated, in a load 
 2.12170 +of hay - "some years ago." 
 2.12171 +
 2.12172 +
 2.12173 +
 2.12174 +240 
 2.12175 +
 2.12176 +
 2.12177 +
 2.12178 +"Infected with the new doctrines/' said a third, eyeing the direction 
 2.12179 +through his glass in passing; "set himself in opposition to the last Mar- 
 2.12180 +quis, abandoned the estates when he inherited them, and left them to the 
 2.12181 +ruffian herd. They will recompense him now, I hope, as he deserves." 
 2.12182 +
 2.12183 +"Hey?" cried the blatant Stryver. "Did he though? Is that the sort of 
 2.12184 +fellow? Let us look at his infamous name. D - n the fellow!" 
 2.12185 +
 2.12186 +Darnay, unable to restrain himself any longer, touched Mr. Stryver on 
 2.12187 +the shoulder, and said: 
 2.12188 +
 2.12189 +"I know the fellow." 
 2.12190 +
 2.12191 +"Do you, by Jupiter?" said Stryver. "I am sorry for it." 
 2.12192 +
 2.12193 +"Why?" 
 2.12194 +
 2.12195 +"Why, Mr. Darnay? D'ye hear what he did? Don't ask, why, in these 
 2.12196 +times." 
 2.12197 +
 2.12198 +"But I do ask why?" 
 2.12199 +
 2.12200 +"Then I tell you again, Mr. Darnay, I am sorry for it. I am sorry to hear 
 2.12201 +you putting any such extraordinary questions. Here is a fellow, who, in- 
 2.12202 +fected by the most pestilent and blasphemous code of devilry that ever 
 2.12203 +was known, abandoned his property to the vilest scum of the earth that 
 2.12204 +ever did murder by wholesale, and you ask me why I am sorry that a 
 2.12205 +man who instructs youth knows him? Well, but I'll answer you. I am 
 2.12206 +sorry because I believe there is contamination in such a scoundrel. That's 
 2.12207 +why." 
 2.12208 +
 2.12209 +Mindful of the secret, Darnay with great difficulty checked himself, 
 2.12210 +and said: "You may not understand the gentleman." 
 2.12211 +
 2.12212 +"I understand how to put you in a corner, Mr. Darnay," said Bully 
 2.12213 +Stryver, "and I'll do it. If this fellow is a gentleman, I don't understand 
 2.12214 +him. You may tell him so, with my compliments. You may also tell him, 
 2.12215 +from me, that after abandoning his worldly goods and position to this 
 2.12216 +butcherly mob, I wonder he is not at the head of them. But, no, gentle- 
 2.12217 +men," said Stryver, looking all round, and snapping his fingers, "I know 
 2.12218 +something of human nature, and I tell you that you'll never find a fellow 
 2.12219 +like this fellow, trusting himself to the mercies of such precious proteges. 
 2.12220 +No, gentlemen; he'll always show 'em a clean pair of heels very early in 
 2.12221 +the scuffle, and sneak away." 
 2.12222 +
 2.12223 +With those words, and a final snap of his fingers, Mr. Stryver 
 2.12224 +shouldered himself into Fleet-street, amidst the general approbation of 
 2.12225 +his hearers. Mr. Lorry and Charles Darnay were left alone at the desk, in 
 2.12226 +the general departure from the Bank. 
 2.12227 +
 2.12228 +
 2.12229 +
 2.12230 +241 
 2.12231 +
 2.12232 +
 2.12233 +
 2.12234 +"Will you take charge of the letter?" said Mr. Lorry. "You know where 
 2.12235 +to deliver it?" 
 2.12236 +
 2.12237 +"I do." 
 2.12238 +
 2.12239 +"Will you undertake to explain, that we suppose it to have been ad- 
 2.12240 +dressed here, on the chance of our knowing where to forward it, and that 
 2.12241 +it has been here some time?" 
 2.12242 +
 2.12243 +"I will do so. Do you start for Paris from here?" 
 2.12244 +
 2.12245 +"From here, at eight." 
 2.12246 +
 2.12247 +"I will come back, to see you off." 
 2.12248 +
 2.12249 +Very ill at ease with himself, and with Stryver and most other men, 
 2.12250 +Darnay made the best of his way into the quiet of the Temple, opened 
 2.12251 +the letter, and read it. These were its contents: 
 2.12252 +
 2.12253 +"Prison of the Abbaye, Paris. 
 2.12254 +
 2.12255 +"June 21, 1792. "Monsieur Heretofore the Marquis. 
 2.12256 +
 2.12257 +"After having long been in danger of my life at the hands of the vil- 
 2.12258 +lage, I have been seized, with great violence and indignity, and brought 
 2.12259 +a long journey on foot to Paris. On the road I have suffered a great deal. 
 2.12260 +Nor is that all; my house has been destroyed - razed to the ground. 
 2.12261 +
 2.12262 +"The crime for which I am imprisoned, Monsieur heretofore the Mar- 
 2.12263 +quis, and for which I shall be summoned before the tribunal, and shall 
 2.12264 +lose my life (without your so generous help), is, they tell me, treason 
 2.12265 +against the majesty of the people, in that I have acted against them for an 
 2.12266 +emigrant. It is in vain I represent that I have acted for them, and not 
 2.12267 +against, according to your commands. It is in vain I represent that, before 
 2.12268 +the sequestration of emigrant property, I had remitted the imposts they 
 2.12269 +had ceased to pay; that I had collected no rent; that I had had recourse to 
 2.12270 +no process. The only response is, that I have acted for an emigrant, and 
 2.12271 +where is that emigrant? 
 2.12272 +
 2.12273 +"Ah! most gracious Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, where is that 
 2.12274 +emigrant? I cry in my sleep where is he? I demand of Heaven, will he not 
 2.12275 +come to deliver me? No answer. Ah Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, I 
 2.12276 +send my desolate cry across the sea, hoping it may perhaps reach your 
 2.12277 +ears through the great bank of Tilson known at Paris! 
 2.12278 +
 2.12279 +"For the love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of the honour of your 
 2.12280 +noble name, I supplicate you, Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, to suc- 
 2.12281 +cour and release me. My fault is, that I have been true to you. Oh Mon- 
 2.12282 +sieur heretofore the Marquis, I pray you be you true to me! 
 2.12283 +
 2.12284 +
 2.12285 +
 2.12286 +242 
 2.12287 +
 2.12288 +
 2.12289 +
 2.12290 +"From this prison here of horror, whence I every hour tend nearer and 
 2.12291 +nearer to destruction, I send you, Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, the 
 2.12292 +assurance of my dolorous and unhappy service. 
 2.12293 +
 2.12294 +"Your afflicted, 
 2.12295 +
 2.12296 +"Gabelle." 
 2.12297 +
 2.12298 +The latent uneasiness in Darnay's mind was roused to vigourous life 
 2.12299 +by this letter. The peril of an old servant and a good one, whose only 
 2.12300 +crime was fidelity to himself and his family, stared him so reproachfully 
 2.12301 +in the face, that, as he walked to and fro in the Temple considering what 
 2.12302 +to do, he almost hid his face from the passersby. 
 2.12303 +
 2.12304 +He knew very well, that in his horror of the deed which had culmin- 
 2.12305 +ated the bad deeds and bad reputation of the old family house, in his re- 
 2.12306 +sentful suspicions of his uncle, and in the aversion with which his con- 
 2.12307 +science regarded the crumbling fabric that he was supposed to uphold, 
 2.12308 +he had acted imperfectly. He knew very well, that in his love for Lucie, 
 2.12309 +his renunciation of his social place, though by no means new to his own 
 2.12310 +mind, had been hurried and incomplete. He knew that he ought to have 
 2.12311 +systematically worked it out and supervised it, and that he had meant to 
 2.12312 +do it, and that it had never been done. 
 2.12313 +
 2.12314 +The happiness of his own chosen English home, the necessity of being 
 2.12315 +always actively employed, the swift changes and troubles of the time 
 2.12316 +which had followed on one another so fast, that the events of this week 
 2.12317 +annihilated the immature plans of last week, and the events of the week 
 2.12318 +following made all new again; he knew very well, that to the force of 
 2.12319 +these circumstances he had yielded: - not without disquiet, but still 
 2.12320 +without continuous and accumulating resistance. That he had watched 
 2.12321 +the times for a time of action, and that they had shifted and struggled 
 2.12322 +until the time had gone by, and the nobility were trooping from France 
 2.12323 +by every highway and byway, and their property was in course of con- 
 2.12324 +fiscation and destruction, and their very names were blotting out, was as 
 2.12325 +well known to himself as it could be to any new authority in France that 
 2.12326 +might impeach him for it. 
 2.12327 +
 2.12328 +But, he had oppressed no man, he had imprisoned no man; he was so 
 2.12329 +far from having harshly exacted payment of his dues, that he had relin- 
 2.12330 +quished them of his own will, thrown himself on a world with no favour 
 2.12331 +in it, won his own private place there, and earned his own bread. Mon- 
 2.12332 +sieur Gabelle had held the impoverished and involved estate on written 
 2.12333 +instructions, to spare the people, to give them what little there was to 
 2.12334 +give - such fuel as the heavy creditors would let them have in the winter, 
 2.12335 +
 2.12336 +
 2.12337 +
 2.12338 +243 
 2.12339 +
 2.12340 +
 2.12341 +
 2.12342 +and such produce as could be saved from the same grip in the sum- 
 2.12343 +mer - and no doubt he had put the fact in plea and proof, for his own 
 2.12344 +safety, so that it could not but appear now. 
 2.12345 +
 2.12346 +This favoured the desperate resolution Charles Darnay had begun to 
 2.12347 +make, that he would go to Paris. 
 2.12348 +
 2.12349 +Yes. Like the mariner in the old story, the winds and streams had driv- 
 2.12350 +en him within the influence of the Loadstone Rock, and it was drawing 
 2.12351 +him to itself, and he must go. Everything that arose before his mind drif- 
 2.12352 +ted him on, faster and faster, more and more steadily, to the terrible at- 
 2.12353 +traction. His latent uneasiness had been, that bad aims were being 
 2.12354 +worked out in his own unhappy land by bad instruments, and that he 
 2.12355 +who could not fail to know that he was better than they, was not there, 
 2.12356 +trying to do something to stay bloodshed, and assert the claims of mercy 
 2.12357 +and humanity. With this uneasiness half stifled, and half reproaching 
 2.12358 +him, he had been brought to the pointed comparison of himself with the 
 2.12359 +brave old gentleman in whom duty was so strong; upon that comparison 
 2.12360 +(injurious to himself) had instantly followed the sneers of Monseigneur, 
 2.12361 +which had stung him bitterly, and those of Stryver, which above all were 
 2.12362 +coarse and galling, for old reasons. Upon those, had followed Gabelle's 
 2.12363 +letter: the appeal of an innocent prisoner, in danger of death, to his 
 2.12364 +justice, honour, and good name. 
 2.12365 +
 2.12366 +His resolution was made. He must go to Paris. 
 2.12367 +
 2.12368 +Yes. The Loadstone Rock was drawing him, and he must sail on, until 
 2.12369 +he struck. He knew of no rock; he saw hardly any danger. The intention 
 2.12370 +with which he had done what he had done, even although he had left it 
 2.12371 +incomplete, presented it before him in an aspect that would be gratefully 
 2.12372 +acknowledged in France on his presenting himself to assert it. Then, that 
 2.12373 +glorious vision of doing good, which is so often the sanguine mirage of 
 2.12374 +so many good minds, arose before him, and he even saw himself in the 
 2.12375 +illusion with some influence to guide this raging Revolution that was 
 2.12376 +running so fearfully wild. 
 2.12377 +
 2.12378 +As he walked to and fro with his resolution made, he considered that 
 2.12379 +neither Lucie nor her father must know of it until he was gone. Lucie 
 2.12380 +should be spared the pain of separation; and her father, always reluctant 
 2.12381 +to turn his thoughts towards the dangerous ground of old, should come 
 2.12382 +to the knowledge of the step, as a step taken, and not in the balance of 
 2.12383 +suspense and doubt. How much of the incompleteness of his situation 
 2.12384 +was referable to her father, through the painful anxiety to avoid reviving 
 2.12385 +
 2.12386 +
 2.12387 +
 2.12388 +244 
 2.12389 +
 2.12390 +
 2.12391 +
 2.12392 +old associations of France in his mind, he did not discuss with himself. 
 2.12393 +But, that circumstance too, had had its influence in his course. 
 2.12394 +
 2.12395 +He walked to and fro, with thoughts very busy, until it was time to re- 
 2.12396 +turn to Tellson's and take leave of Mr. Lorry. As soon as he arrived in 
 2.12397 +Paris he would present himself to this old friend, but he must say noth- 
 2.12398 +ing of his intention now. 
 2.12399 +
 2.12400 +A carriage with post-horses was ready at the Bank door, and Jerry was 
 2.12401 +booted and equipped. 
 2.12402 +
 2.12403 +"I have delivered that letter," said Charles Darnay to Mr. Lorry. "I 
 2.12404 +would not consent to your being charged with any written answer, but 
 2.12405 +perhaps you will take a verbal one?" 
 2.12406 +
 2.12407 +"That I will, and readily," said Mr. Lorry, "if it is not dangerous." 
 2.12408 +
 2.12409 +"Not at all. Though it is to a prisoner in the Abbaye." 
 2.12410 +
 2.12411 +"What is his name?" said Mr. Lorry, with his open pocket-book in his 
 2.12412 +hand. 
 2.12413 +
 2.12414 +"Gabelle." 
 2.12415 +
 2.12416 +"Gabelle. And what is the message to the unfortunate Gabelle in 
 2.12417 +prison?" 
 2.12418 +
 2.12419 +"Simply, 'that he has received the letter, and will come.'" 
 2.12420 +
 2.12421 +"Any time mentioned?" 
 2.12422 +
 2.12423 +"He will start upon his journey to-morrow night." 
 2.12424 +
 2.12425 +"Any person mentioned?" 
 2.12426 +
 2.12427 +"No." 
 2.12428 +
 2.12429 +He helped Mr. Lorry to wrap himself in a number of coats and cloaks, 
 2.12430 +and went out with him from the warm atmosphere of the old Bank, into 
 2.12431 +the misty air of Fleet-street. "My love to Lucie, and to little Lucie," said 
 2.12432 +Mr. Lorry at parting, "and take precious care of them till I come back." 
 2.12433 +Charles Darnay shook his head and doubtfully smiled, as the carriage 
 2.12434 +rolled away. 
 2.12435 +
 2.12436 +That night - it was the fourteenth of August - he sat up late, and wrote 
 2.12437 +two fervent letters; one was to Lucie, explaining the strong obligation he 
 2.12438 +was under to go to Paris, and showing her, at length, the reasons that he 
 2.12439 +had, for feeling confident that he could become involved in no personal 
 2.12440 +danger there; the other was to the Doctor, confiding Lucie and their dear 
 2.12441 +child to his care, and dwelling on the same topics with the strongest as- 
 2.12442 +surances. To both, he wrote that he would despatch letters in proof of his 
 2.12443 +safety, immediately after his arrival. 
 2.12444 +
 2.12445 +
 2.12446 +
 2.12447 +245 
 2.12448 +
 2.12449 +
 2.12450 +
 2.12451 +It was a hard day, that day of being among them, with the first reser- 
 2.12452 +vation of their joint lives on his mind. It was a hard matter to preserve 
 2.12453 +the innocent deceit of which they were profoundly unsuspicious. But, an 
 2.12454 +affectionate glance at his wife, so happy and busy, made him resolute 
 2.12455 +not to tell her what impended (he had been half moved to do it, so 
 2.12456 +strange it was to him to act in anything without her quiet aid), and the 
 2.12457 +day passed quickly. Early in the evening he embraced her, and her 
 2.12458 +scarcely less dear namesake, pretending that he would return by-and- 
 2.12459 +bye (an imaginary engagement took him out, and he had secreted a 
 2.12460 +valise of clothes ready), and so he emerged into the heavy mist of the 
 2.12461 +heavy streets, with a heavier heart. 
 2.12462 +
 2.12463 +The unseen force was drawing him fast to itself, now, and all the tides 
 2.12464 +and winds were setting straight and strong towards it. He left his two 
 2.12465 +letters with a trusty porter, to be delivered half an hour before midnight, 
 2.12466 +and no sooner; took horse for Dover; and began his journey. "For the 
 2.12467 +love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of the honour of your noble 
 2.12468 +name!" was the poor prisoner's cry with which he strengthened his sink- 
 2.12469 +ing heart, as he left all that was dear on earth behind him, and floated 
 2.12470 +away for the Loadstone Rock. 
 2.12471 +
 2.12472 +
 2.12473 +
 2.12474 +246 
 2.12475 +
 2.12476 +
 2.12477 +
 2.12478 +Part 3 
 2.12479 +The Track of a Storm 
 2.12480 +
 2.12481 +
 2.12482 +
 2.12483 +24:7 
 2.12484 +
 2.12485 +
 2.12486 +
 2.12487 +Chapter 
 2.12488 +
 2.12489 +
 2.12490 +
 2.12491 +1 
 2.12492 +
 2.12493 +
 2.12494 +
 2.12495 +In Secret 
 2.12496 +
 2.12497 +The traveller fared slowly on his way, who fared towards Paris from 
 2.12498 +England in the autumn of the year one thousand seven hundred and 
 2.12499 +ninety-two. More than enough of bad roads, bad equipages, and bad 
 2.12500 +horses, he would have encountered to delay him, though the fallen and 
 2.12501 +unfortunate King of France had been upon his throne in all his glory; 
 2.12502 +but, the changed times were fraught with other obstacles than these. 
 2.12503 +Every town-gate and village taxing-house had its band of citizen-patri- 
 2.12504 +ots, with their national muskets in a most explosive state of readiness, 
 2.12505 +who stopped all comers and goers, cross-questioned them, inspected 
 2.12506 +their papers, looked for their names in lists of their own, turned them 
 2.12507 +back, or sent them on, or stopped them and laid them in hold, as their ca- 
 2.12508 +pricious judgment or fancy deemed best for the dawning Republic One 
 2.12509 +and Indivisible, of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death. 
 2.12510 +
 2.12511 +A very few French leagues of his journey were accomplished, when 
 2.12512 +Charles Darnay began to perceive that for him along these country roads 
 2.12513 +there was no hope of return until he should have been declared a good 
 2.12514 +citizen at Paris. Whatever might befall now, he must on to his journey's 
 2.12515 +end. Not a mean village closed upon him, not a common barrier dropped 
 2.12516 +across the road behind him, but he knew it to be another iron door in the 
 2.12517 +series that was barred between him and England. The universal watch- 
 2.12518 +fulness so encompassed him, that if he had been taken in a net, or were 
 2.12519 +being forwarded to his destination in a cage, he could not have felt his 
 2.12520 +freedom more completely gone. 
 2.12521 +
 2.12522 +This universal watchfulness not only stopped him on the highway 
 2.12523 +twenty times in a stage, but retarded his progress twenty times in a day, 
 2.12524 +by riding after him and taking him back, riding before him and stopping 
 2.12525 +him by anticipation, riding with him and keeping him in charge. He had 
 2.12526 +been days upon his journey in France alone, when he went to bed tired 
 2.12527 +out, in a little town on the high road, still a long way from Paris. 
 2.12528 +
 2.12529 +
 2.12530 +
 2.12531 +248 
 2.12532 +
 2.12533 +
 2.12534 +
 2.12535 +Nothing but the production of the afflicted Gabelle's letter from his 
 2.12536 +prison of the Abbaye would have got him on so far. His difficulty at the 
 2.12537 +guard-house in this small place had been such, that he felt his journey to 
 2.12538 +have come to a crisis. And he was, therefore, as little surprised as a man 
 2.12539 +could be, to find himself awakened at the small inn to which he had been 
 2.12540 +remitted until morning, in the middle of the night. 
 2.12541 +
 2.12542 +Awakened by a timid local functionary and three armed patriots in 
 2.12543 +rough red caps and with pipes in their mouths, who sat down on the 
 2.12544 +bed. 
 2.12545 +
 2.12546 +"Emigrant," said the functionary, "I am going to send you on to Paris, 
 2.12547 +under an escort." 
 2.12548 +
 2.12549 +"Citizen, I desire nothing more than to get to Paris, though I could dis- 
 2.12550 +pense with the escort." 
 2.12551 +
 2.12552 +"Silence!" growled a red-cap, striking at the coverlet with the butt-end 
 2.12553 +of his musket. "Peace, aristocrat!" 
 2.12554 +
 2.12555 +"It is as the good patriot says," observed the timid functionary. "You 
 2.12556 +are an aristocrat, and must have an escort - and must pay for it." 
 2.12557 +
 2.12558 +"I have no choice," said Charles Darnay. 
 2.12559 +
 2.12560 +"Choice! Listen to him!" cried the same scowling red-cap. "As if it was 
 2.12561 +not a favour to be protected from the lamp-iron!" 
 2.12562 +
 2.12563 +"It is always as the good patriot says," observed the functionary. "Rise 
 2.12564 +and dress yourself, emigrant." 
 2.12565 +
 2.12566 +Darnay complied, and was taken back to the guard-house, where other 
 2.12567 +patriots in rough red caps were smoking, drinking, and sleeping, by a 
 2.12568 +watch-fire. Here he paid a heavy price for his escort, and hence he star- 
 2.12569 +ted with it on the wet, wet roads at three o'clock in the morning. 
 2.12570 +
 2.12571 +The escort were two mounted patriots in red caps and tri-coloured 
 2.12572 +cockades, armed with national muskets and sabres, who rode one on 
 2.12573 +either side of him. 
 2.12574 +
 2.12575 +The escorted governed his own horse, but a loose line was attached to 
 2.12576 +his bridle, the end of which one of the patriots kept girded round his 
 2.12577 +wrist. In this state they set forth with the sharp rain driving in their faces: 
 2.12578 +clattering at a heavy dragoon trot over the uneven town pavement, and 
 2.12579 +out upon the mire-deep roads. In this state they traversed without 
 2.12580 +change, except of horses and pace, all the mire-deep leagues that lay 
 2.12581 +between them and the capital. 
 2.12582 +
 2.12583 +
 2.12584 +
 2.12585 +249 
 2.12586 +
 2.12587 +
 2.12588 +
 2.12589 +They travelled in the night, halting an hour or two after daybreak, and 
 2.12590 +lying by until the twilight fell. The escort were so wretchedly clothed, 
 2.12591 +that they twisted straw round their bare legs, and thatched their ragged 
 2.12592 +shoulders to keep the wet off. Apart from the personal discomfort of be- 
 2.12593 +ing so attended, and apart from such considerations of present danger as 
 2.12594 +arose from one of the patriots being chronically drunk, and carrying his 
 2.12595 +musket very recklessly, Charles Darnay did not allow the restraint that 
 2.12596 +was laid upon him to awaken any serious fears in his breast; for, he 
 2.12597 +reasoned with himself that it could have no reference to the merits of an 
 2.12598 +individual case that was not yet stated, and of representations, confirm- 
 2.12599 +able by the prisoner in the Abbaye, that were not yet made. 
 2.12600 +
 2.12601 +But when they came to the town of Beauvais - which they did at even- 
 2.12602 +tide, when the streets were filled with people - he could not conceal from 
 2.12603 +himself that the aspect of affairs was very alarming. An ominous crowd 
 2.12604 +gathered to see him dismount of the posting-yard, and many voices 
 2.12605 +called out loudly, "Down with the emigrant!" 
 2.12606 +
 2.12607 +He stopped in the act of swinging himself out of his saddle, and, re- 
 2.12608 +suming it as his safest place, said: 
 2.12609 +
 2.12610 +"Emigrant, my friends! Do you not see me here, in France, of my own 
 2.12611 +will?" 
 2.12612 +
 2.12613 +"You are a cursed emigrant," cried a farrier, making at him in a furious 
 2.12614 +manner through the press, hammer in hand; "and you are a cursed 
 2.12615 +aristocrat!" 
 2.12616 +
 2.12617 +The postmaster interposed himself between this man and the rider's 
 2.12618 +bridle (at which he was evidently making), and soothingly said, "Let him 
 2.12619 +be; let him be! He will be judged at Paris." 
 2.12620 +
 2.12621 +"Judged!" repeated the farrier, swinging his hammer. "Ay! and con- 
 2.12622 +demned as a traitor." At this the crowd roared approval. 
 2.12623 +
 2.12624 +Checking the postmaster, who was for turning his horse's head to the 
 2.12625 +yard (the drunken patriot sat composedly in his saddle looking on, with 
 2.12626 +the line round his wrist), Darnay said, as soon as he could make his voice 
 2.12627 +heard: 
 2.12628 +
 2.12629 +"Friends, you deceive yourselves, or you are deceived. I am not a 
 2.12630 +traitor." 
 2.12631 +
 2.12632 +"He lies!" cried the smith. "He is a traitor since the decree. His life is 
 2.12633 +forfeit to the people. His cursed life is not his own!" 
 2.12634 +
 2.12635 +At the instant when Darnay saw a rush in the eyes of the crowd, which 
 2.12636 +another instant would have brought upon him, the postmaster turned 
 2.12637 +
 2.12638 +
 2.12639 +
 2.12640 +250 
 2.12641 +
 2.12642 +
 2.12643 +
 2.12644 +his horse into the yard, the escort rode in close upon his horse's flanks, 
 2.12645 +and the postmaster shut and barred the crazy double gates. The farrier 
 2.12646 +struck a blow upon them with his hammer, and the crowd groaned; but, 
 2.12647 +no more was done. 
 2.12648 +
 2.12649 +"What is this decree that the smith spoke of?" Darnay asked the post- 
 2.12650 +master, when he had thanked him, and stood beside him in the yard. 
 2.12651 +
 2.12652 +"Truly, a decree for selling the property of emigrants." 
 2.12653 +
 2.12654 +"When passed?" 
 2.12655 +
 2.12656 +"On the fourteenth." 
 2.12657 +
 2.12658 +"The day I left England!" 
 2.12659 +
 2.12660 +"Everybody says it is but one of several, and that there will be oth- 
 2.12661 +ers - if there are not already-banishing all emigrants, and condemning all 
 2.12662 +to death who return. That is what he meant when he said your life was 
 2.12663 +not your own." 
 2.12664 +
 2.12665 +"But there are no such decrees yet?" 
 2.12666 +
 2.12667 +"What do I know!" said the postmaster, shrugging his shoulders; "there 
 2.12668 +may be, or there will be. It is all the same. What would you have?" 
 2.12669 +
 2.12670 +They rested on some straw in a loft until the middle of the night, and 
 2.12671 +then rode forward again when all the town was asleep. Among the many 
 2.12672 +wild changes observable on familiar things which made this wild ride 
 2.12673 +unreal, not the least was the seeming rarity of sleep. After long and 
 2.12674 +lonely spurring over dreary roads, they would come to a cluster of poor 
 2.12675 +cottages, not steeped in darkness, but all glittering with lights, and 
 2.12676 +would find the people, in a ghostly manner in the dead of the night, circ- 
 2.12677 +ling hand in hand round a shrivelled tree of Liberty, or all drawn up to- 
 2.12678 +gether singing a Liberty song. Happily, however, there was sleep in 
 2.12679 +Beauvais that night to help them out of it and they passed on once more 
 2.12680 +into solitude and loneliness: jingling through the untimely cold and wet, 
 2.12681 +among impoverished fields that had yielded no fruits of the earth that 
 2.12682 +year, diversified by the blackened remains of burnt houses, and by the 
 2.12683 +sudden emergence from ambuscade, and sharp reining up across their 
 2.12684 +way, of patriot patrols on the watch on all the roads. 
 2.12685 +
 2.12686 +Daylight at last found them before the wall of Paris. The barrier was 
 2.12687 +closed and strongly guarded when they rode up to it. 
 2.12688 +
 2.12689 +"Where are the papers of this prisoner?" demanded a resolute-looking 
 2.12690 +man in authority, who was summoned out by the guard. 
 2.12691 +
 2.12692 +
 2.12693 +
 2.12694 +251 
 2.12695 +
 2.12696 +
 2.12697 +
 2.12698 +Naturally struck by the disagreeable word, Charles Darnay requested 
 2.12699 +the speaker to take notice that he was a free traveller and French citizen, 
 2.12700 +in charge of an escort which the disturbed state of the country had im- 
 2.12701 +posed upon him, and which he had paid for. 
 2.12702 +
 2.12703 +"Where," repeated the same personage, without taking any heed of 
 2.12704 +him whatever, "are the papers of this prisoner?" 
 2.12705 +
 2.12706 +The drunken patriot had them in his cap, and produced them. Casting 
 2.12707 +his eyes over Gabelle's letter, the same personage in authority showed 
 2.12708 +some disorder and surprise, and looked at Darnay with a close attention. 
 2.12709 +
 2.12710 +He left escort and escorted without saying a word, however, and went 
 2.12711 +into the guard-room; meanwhile, they sat upon their horses outside the 
 2.12712 +gate. Looking about him while in this state of suspense, Charles Darnay 
 2.12713 +observed that the gate was held by a mixed guard of soldiers and patri- 
 2.12714 +ots, the latter far outnumbering the former; and that while ingress into 
 2.12715 +the city for peasants' carts bringing in supplies, and for similar traffic 
 2.12716 +and traffickers, was easy enough, egress, even for the homeliest people, 
 2.12717 +was very difficult. A numerous medley of men and women, not to men- 
 2.12718 +tion beasts and vehicles of various sorts, was waiting to issue forth; but, 
 2.12719 +the previous identification was so strict, that they filtered through the 
 2.12720 +barrier very slowly. Some of these people knew their turn for examina- 
 2.12721 +tion to be so far off, that they lay down on the ground to sleep or smoke, 
 2.12722 +while others talked together, or loitered about. The red cap and tri-colour 
 2.12723 +cockade were universal, both among men and women. 
 2.12724 +
 2.12725 +When he had sat in his saddle some half-hour, taking note of these 
 2.12726 +things, Darnay found himself confronted by the same man in authority, 
 2.12727 +who directed the guard to open the barrier. Then he delivered to the es- 
 2.12728 +cort, drunk and sober, a receipt for the escorted, and requested him to 
 2.12729 +dismount. He did so, and the two patriots, leading his tired horse, turned 
 2.12730 +and rode away without entering the city. 
 2.12731 +
 2.12732 +He accompanied his conductor into a guard-room, smelling of com- 
 2.12733 +mon wine and tobacco, where certain soldiers and patriots, asleep and 
 2.12734 +awake, drunk and sober, and in various neutral states between sleeping 
 2.12735 +and waking, drunkenness and sobriety, were standing and lying about. 
 2.12736 +The light in the guard-house, half derived from the waning oil-lamps of 
 2.12737 +the night, and half from the overcast day, was in a correspondingly un- 
 2.12738 +certain condition. Some registers were lying open on a desk, and an of- 
 2.12739 +ficer of a coarse, dark aspect, presided over these. 
 2.12740 +
 2.12741 +"Citizen Defarge," said he to Darnay's conductor, as he took a slip of 
 2.12742 +paper to write on. "Is this the emigrant Evremonde?" 
 2.12743 +
 2.12744 +
 2.12745 +
 2.12746 +252 
 2.12747 +
 2.12748 +
 2.12749 +
 2.12750 +"This is the man." 
 2.12751 +
 2.12752 +"Your age, Evremonde?" 
 2.12753 +
 2.12754 +"Thirty-seven." 
 2.12755 +
 2.12756 +"Married, Evremonde?" 
 2.12757 +
 2.12758 +"Yes." 
 2.12759 +
 2.12760 +"Where married?" 
 2.12761 +
 2.12762 +"In England." 
 2.12763 +
 2.12764 +"Without doubt. Where is your wife, Evremonde?" 
 2.12765 +
 2.12766 +"In England." 
 2.12767 +
 2.12768 +"Without doubt. You are consigned, Evremonde, to the prison of La 
 2.12769 +Force." 
 2.12770 +
 2.12771 +"Just Heaven!" exclaimed Darnay. "Under what law, and for what 
 2.12772 +offence?" 
 2.12773 +
 2.12774 +The officer looked up from his slip of paper for a moment. 
 2.12775 +
 2.12776 +"We have new laws, Evremonde, and new offences, since you were 
 2.12777 +here." He said it with a hard smile, and went on writing. 
 2.12778 +
 2.12779 +"I entreat you to observe that I have come here voluntarily, in response 
 2.12780 +to that written appeal of a fellow-countryman which lies before you. I 
 2.12781 +demand no more than the opportunity to do so without delay. Is not that 
 2.12782 +my right?" 
 2.12783 +
 2.12784 +"Emigrants have no rights, Evremonde," was the stolid reply. The of- 
 2.12785 +ficer wrote until he had finished, read over to himself what he had writ- 
 2.12786 +ten, sanded it, and handed it to Defarge, with the words "In secret." 
 2.12787 +
 2.12788 +Defarge motioned with the paper to the prisoner that he must accom- 
 2.12789 +pany him. The prisoner obeyed, and a guard of two armed patriots atten- 
 2.12790 +ded them. 
 2.12791 +
 2.12792 +"Is it you," said Defarge, in a low voice, as they went down the guard- 
 2.12793 +house steps and turned into Paris, "who married the daughter of Doctor 
 2.12794 +Manette, once a prisoner in the Bastille that is no more?" 
 2.12795 +
 2.12796 +"Yes," replied Darnay, looking at him with surprise. 
 2.12797 +
 2.12798 +"My name is Defarge, and I keep a wine-shop in the Quarter Saint An- 
 2.12799 +toine. Possibly you have heard of me." 
 2.12800 +
 2.12801 +"My wife came to your house to reclaim her father? Yes!" 
 2.12802 +
 2.12803 +
 2.12804 +
 2.12805 +253 
 2.12806 +
 2.12807 +
 2.12808 +
 2.12809 +The word "wife" seemed to serve as a gloomy reminder to Defarge, to 
 2.12810 +say with sudden impatience, "In the name of that sharp female newly- 
 2.12811 +born, and called La Guillotine, why did you come to France?" 
 2.12812 +
 2.12813 +"You heard me say why, a minute ago. Do you not believe it is the 
 2.12814 +truth?" 
 2.12815 +
 2.12816 +"A bad truth for you," said Defarge, speaking with knitted brows, and 
 2.12817 +looking straight before him. 
 2.12818 +
 2.12819 +"Indeed I am lost here. All here is so unprecedented, so changed, so 
 2.12820 +sudden and unfair, that I am absolutely lost. Will you render me a little 
 2.12821 +help?" 
 2.12822 +
 2.12823 +"None." Defarge spoke, always looking straight before him. 
 2.12824 +
 2.12825 +"Will you answer me a single question?" 
 2.12826 +
 2.12827 +"Perhaps. According to its nature. You can say what it is." 
 2.12828 +
 2.12829 +"In this prison that I am going to so unjustly, shall I have some free 
 2.12830 +communication with the world outside?" 
 2.12831 +
 2.12832 +"You will see." 
 2.12833 +
 2.12834 +"I am not to be buried there, prejudged, and without any means of 
 2.12835 +presenting my case?" 
 2.12836 +
 2.12837 +"You will see. But, what then? Other people have been similarly buried 
 2.12838 +in worse prisons, before now." 
 2.12839 +
 2.12840 +"But never by me, Citizen Defarge." 
 2.12841 +
 2.12842 +Defarge glanced darkly at him for answer, and walked on in a steady 
 2.12843 +and set silence. The deeper he sank into this silence, the fainter hope 
 2.12844 +there was - or so Darnay thought - of his softening in any slight degree. 
 2.12845 +He, therefore, made haste to say: 
 2.12846 +
 2.12847 +"It is of the utmost importance to me (you know, Citizen, even better 
 2.12848 +than I, of how much importance), that I should be able to communicate 
 2.12849 +to Mr. Lorry of Tellson's Bank, an English gentleman who is now in Par- 
 2.12850 +is, the simple fact, without comment, that I have been thrown into the 
 2.12851 +prison of La Force. Will you cause that to be done for me?" 
 2.12852 +
 2.12853 +"I will do," Defarge doggedly rejoined, "nothing for you. My duty is to 
 2.12854 +my country and the People. I am the sworn servant of both, against you. 
 2.12855 +I will do nothing for you." 
 2.12856 +
 2.12857 +Charles Darnay felt it hopeless to entreat him further, and his pride 
 2.12858 +was touched besides. As they walked on in silence, he could not but see 
 2.12859 +how used the people were to the spectacle of prisoners passing along the 
 2.12860 +streets. The very children scarcely noticed him. A few passers turned 
 2.12861 +
 2.12862 +
 2.12863 +
 2.12864 +254 
 2.12865 +
 2.12866 +
 2.12867 +
 2.12868 +their heads, and a few shook their fingers at him as an aristocrat; other- 
 2.12869 +wise, that a man in good clothes should be going to prison, was no more 
 2.12870 +remarkable than that a labourer in working clothes should be going to 
 2.12871 +work. In one narrow, dark, and dirty street through which they passed, 
 2.12872 +an excited orator, mounted on a stool, was addressing an excited audi- 
 2.12873 +ence on the crimes against the people, of the king and the royal family. 
 2.12874 +The few words that he caught from this man's lips, first made it known 
 2.12875 +to Charles Darnay that the king was in prison, and that the foreign am- 
 2.12876 +bassadors had one and all left Paris. On the road (except at Beauvais) he 
 2.12877 +had heard absolutely nothing. The escort and the universal watchfulness 
 2.12878 +had completely isolated him. 
 2.12879 +
 2.12880 +That he had fallen among far greater dangers than those which had 
 2.12881 +developed themselves when he left England, he of course knew now. 
 2.12882 +That perils had thickened about him fast, and might thicken faster and 
 2.12883 +faster yet, he of course knew now. He could not but admit to himself that 
 2.12884 +he might not have made this journey, if he could have foreseen the 
 2.12885 +events of a few days. And yet his misgivings were not so dark as, ima- 
 2.12886 +gined by the light of this later time, they would appear. Troubled as the 
 2.12887 +future was, it was the unknown future, and in its obscurity there was ig- 
 2.12888 +norant hope. The horrible massacre, days and nights long, which, within 
 2.12889 +a few rounds of the clock, was to set a great mark of blood upon the 
 2.12890 +blessed garnering time of harvest, was as far out of his knowledge as if it 
 2.12891 +had been a hundred thousand years away. The "sharp female newly- 
 2.12892 +born, and called La Guillotine," was hardly known to him, or to the gen- 
 2.12893 +erality of people, by name. The frightful deeds that were to be soon done, 
 2.12894 +were probably unimagined at that time in the brains of the doers. How 
 2.12895 +could they have a place in the shadowy conceptions of a gentle mind? 
 2.12896 +
 2.12897 +Of unjust treatment in detention and hardship, and in cruel separation 
 2.12898 +from his wife and child, he foreshadowed the likelihood, or the certainty; 
 2.12899 +but, beyond this, he dreaded nothing distinctly. With this on his mind, 
 2.12900 +which was enough to carry into a dreary prison courtyard, he arrived at 
 2.12901 +the prison of La Force. 
 2.12902 +
 2.12903 +A man with a bloated face opened the strong wicket, to whom Defarge 
 2.12904 +presented "The Emigrant Evremonde." 
 2.12905 +
 2.12906 +"What the Devil! How many more of them!" exclaimed the man with 
 2.12907 +the bloated face. 
 2.12908 +
 2.12909 +Defarge took his receipt without noticing the exclamation, and with- 
 2.12910 +drew, with his two fellow-patriots. 
 2.12911 +
 2.12912 +
 2.12913 +
 2.12914 +255 
 2.12915 +
 2.12916 +
 2.12917 +
 2.12918 +"What the Devil, I say again!" exclaimed the gaoler, left with his wife. 
 2.12919 +"How many more!" 
 2.12920 +
 2.12921 +The gaoler's wife, being provided with no answer to the question, 
 2.12922 +merely replied, "One must have patience, my dear!" Three turnkeys who 
 2.12923 +entered responsive to a bell she rang, echoed the sentiment, and one ad- 
 2.12924 +ded, "For the love of Liberty;" which sounded in that place like an inap- 
 2.12925 +propriate conclusion. 
 2.12926 +
 2.12927 +The prison of La Force was a gloomy prison, dark and filthy, and with 
 2.12928 +a horrible smell of foul sleep in it. Extraordinary how soon the noisome 
 2.12929 +flavour of imprisoned sleep, becomes manifest in all such places that are 
 2.12930 +ill cared for! 
 2.12931 +
 2.12932 +"In secret, too," grumbled the gaoler, looking at the written paper. "As 
 2.12933 +if I was not already full to bursting!" 
 2.12934 +
 2.12935 +He stuck the paper on a file, in an ill-humour, and Charles Darnay 
 2.12936 +awaited his further pleasure for half an hour: sometimes, pacing to and 
 2.12937 +fro in the strong arched room: sometimes, resting on a stone seat: in 
 2.12938 +either case detained to be imprinted on the memory of the chief and his 
 2.12939 +subordinates. 
 2.12940 +
 2.12941 +"Come!" said the chief, at length taking up his keys, "come with me, 
 2.12942 +emigrant." 
 2.12943 +
 2.12944 +Through the dismal prison twilight, his new charge accompanied him 
 2.12945 +by corridor and staircase, many doors clanging and locking behind them, 
 2.12946 +until they came into a large, low, vaulted chamber, crowded with prison- 
 2.12947 +ers of both sexes. The women were seated at a long table, reading and 
 2.12948 +writing, knitting, sewing, and embroidering; the men were for the most 
 2.12949 +part standing behind their chairs, or lingering up and down the room. 
 2.12950 +
 2.12951 +In the instinctive association of prisoners with shameful crime and dis- 
 2.12952 +grace, the new-comer recoiled from this company. But the crowning un- 
 2.12953 +reality of his long unreal ride, was, their all at once rising to receive him, 
 2.12954 +with every refinement of manner known to the time, and with all the en- 
 2.12955 +gaging graces and courtesies of life. 
 2.12956 +
 2.12957 +So strangely clouded were these refinements by the prison manners 
 2.12958 +and gloom, so spectral did they become in the inappropriate squalor and 
 2.12959 +misery through which they were seen, that Charles Darnay seemed to 
 2.12960 +stand in a company of the dead. Ghosts all! The ghost of beauty, the 
 2.12961 +ghost of stateliness, the ghost of elegance, the ghost of pride, the ghost of 
 2.12962 +frivolity, the ghost of wit, the ghost of youth, the ghost of age, all waiting 
 2.12963 +
 2.12964 +
 2.12965 +
 2.12966 +256 
 2.12967 +
 2.12968 +
 2.12969 +
 2.12970 +their dismissal from the desolate shore, all turning on him eyes that were 
 2.12971 +changed by the death they had died in coming there. 
 2.12972 +
 2.12973 +It struck him motionless. The gaoler standing at his side, and the other 
 2.12974 +gaolers moving about, who would have been well enough as to appear- 
 2.12975 +ance in the ordinary exercise of their functions, looked so extravagantly 
 2.12976 +coarse contrasted with sorrowing mothers and blooming daughters who 
 2.12977 +were there - with the apparitions of the coquette, the young beauty, and 
 2.12978 +the mature woman delicately bred - that the inversion of all experience 
 2.12979 +and likelihood which the scene of shadows presented, was heightened to 
 2.12980 +its utmost. Surely, ghosts all. Surely, the long unreal ride some progress 
 2.12981 +of disease that had brought him to these gloomy shades! 
 2.12982 +
 2.12983 +"In the name of the assembled companions in misfortune," said a gen- 
 2.12984 +tleman of courtly appearance and address, coming forward, "I have the 
 2.12985 +honour of giving you welcome to La Force, and of condoling with you 
 2.12986 +on the calamity that has brought you among us. May it soon terminate 
 2.12987 +happily! It would be an impertinence elsewhere, but it is not so here, to 
 2.12988 +ask your name and condition?" 
 2.12989 +
 2.12990 +Charles Darnay roused himself, and gave the required information, in 
 2.12991 +words as suitable as he could find. 
 2.12992 +
 2.12993 +"But I hope," said the gentleman, following the chief gaoler with his 
 2.12994 +eyes, who moved across the room, "that you are not in secret?" 
 2.12995 +
 2.12996 +"I do not understand the meaning of the term, but I have heard them 
 2.12997 +say so." 
 2.12998 +
 2.12999 +"Ah, what a pity! We so much regret it! But take courage; several 
 2.13000 +members of our society have been in secret, at first, and it has lasted but 
 2.13001 +a short time." Then he added, raising his voice, "I grieve to inform the so- 
 2.13002 +ciety - in secret." 
 2.13003 +
 2.13004 +There was a murmur of commiseration as Charles Darnay crossed the 
 2.13005 +room to a grated door where the gaoler awaited him, and many 
 2.13006 +voices - among which, the soft and compassionate voices of women 
 2.13007 +were conspicuous - gave him good wishes and encouragement. He 
 2.13008 +turned at the grated door, to render the thanks of his heart; it closed un- 
 2.13009 +der the gaoler's hand; and the apparitions vanished from his sight 
 2.13010 +forever. 
 2.13011 +
 2.13012 +The wicket opened on a stone staircase, leading upward. When they 
 2.13013 +bad ascended forty steps (the prisoner of half an hour already counted 
 2.13014 +them), the gaoler opened a low black door, and they passed into a solit- 
 2.13015 +ary cell. It struck cold and damp, but was not dark. 
 2.13016 +
 2.13017 +
 2.13018 +
 2.13019 +257 
 2.13020 +
 2.13021 +
 2.13022 +
 2.13023 +"Yours," said the gaoler. 
 2.13024 +
 2.13025 +"Why am I confined alone?" 
 2.13026 +
 2.13027 +"How do I know!" 
 2.13028 +
 2.13029 +"I can buy pen, ink, and paper?" 
 2.13030 +
 2.13031 +"Such are not my orders. You will be visited, and can ask then. At 
 2.13032 +present, you may buy your food, and nothing more." 
 2.13033 +
 2.13034 +There were in the cell, a chair, a table, and a straw mattress. As the 
 2.13035 +gaoler made a general inspection of these objects, and of the four walls, 
 2.13036 +before going out, a wandering fancy wandered through the mind of the 
 2.13037 +prisoner leaning against the wall opposite to him, that this gaoler was so 
 2.13038 +unwholesomely bloated, both in face and person, as to look like a man 
 2.13039 +who had been drowned and filled with water. When the gaoler was 
 2.13040 +gone, he thought in the same wandering way, "Now am I left, as if I were 
 2.13041 +dead." Stopping then, to look down at the mattress, he turned from it 
 2.13042 +with a sick feeling, and thought, "And here in these crawling creatures is 
 2.13043 +the first condition of the body after death." 
 2.13044 +
 2.13045 +"Five paces by four and a half, five paces by four and a half, five paces 
 2.13046 +by four and a half." The prisoner walked to and fro in his cell, counting 
 2.13047 +its measurement, and the roar of the city arose like muffled drums with a 
 2.13048 +wild swell of voices added to them. "He made shoes, he made shoes, he 
 2.13049 +made shoes." The prisoner counted the measurement again, and paced 
 2.13050 +faster, to draw his mind with him from that latter repetition. "The ghosts 
 2.13051 +that vanished when the wicket closed. There was one among them, the 
 2.13052 +appearance of a lady dressed in black, who was leaning in the embrasure 
 2.13053 +of a window, and she had a light shining upon her golden hair, and she 
 2.13054 +looked like * * * * Let us ride on again, for God's sake, through the illu- 
 2.13055 +minated villages with the people all awake! * * * * He made shoes, he 
 2.13056 +made shoes, he made shoes. * * * * Five paces by four and a half." With 
 2.13057 +such scraps tossing and rolling upward from the depths of his mind, the 
 2.13058 +prisoner walked faster and faster, obstinately counting and counting; 
 2.13059 +and the roar of the city changed to this extent - that it still rolled in like 
 2.13060 +muffled drums, but with the wail of voices that he knew, in the swell 
 2.13061 +that rose above them. 
 2.13062 +
 2.13063 +
 2.13064 +
 2.13065 +258 
 2.13066 +
 2.13067 +
 2.13068 +
 2.13069 +Chapter 
 2.13070 +
 2.13071 +
 2.13072 +
 2.13073 +2 
 2.13074 +
 2.13075 +
 2.13076 +
 2.13077 +The Grindstone 
 2.13078 +
 2.13079 +Tellson's Bank, established in the Saint Germain Quarter of Paris, was 
 2.13080 +in a wing of a large house, approached by a courtyard and shut off from 
 2.13081 +the street by a high wall and a strong gate. The house belonged to a great 
 2.13082 +nobleman who had lived in it until he made a flight from the troubles, in 
 2.13083 +his own cook's dress, and got across the borders. A mere beast of the 
 2.13084 +chase flying from hunters, he was still in his metempsychosis no other 
 2.13085 +than the same Monseigneur, the preparation of whose chocolate for 
 2.13086 +whose lips had once occupied three strong men besides the cook in 
 2.13087 +question. 
 2.13088 +
 2.13089 +Monseigneur gone, and the three strong men absolving themselves 
 2.13090 +from the sin of having drawn his high wages, by being more than ready 
 2.13091 +and willing to cut his throat on the altar of the dawning Republic one 
 2.13092 +and indivisible of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, Monseigneur's 
 2.13093 +house had been first sequestrated, and then confiscated. For, all things 
 2.13094 +moved so fast, and decree followed decree with that fierce precipitation, 
 2.13095 +that now upon the third night of the autumn month of September, patri- 
 2.13096 +ot emissaries of the law were in possession of Monseigneur's house, and 
 2.13097 +had marked it with the tri-colour, and were drinking brandy in its state 
 2.13098 +apartments. 
 2.13099 +
 2.13100 +A place of business in London like Tellson's place of business in Paris, 
 2.13101 +would soon have driven the House out of its mind and into the Gazette. 
 2.13102 +For, what would staid British responsibility and respectability have said 
 2.13103 +to orange-trees in boxes in a Bank courtyard, and even to a Cupid over 
 2.13104 +the counter? Yet such things were. Tellson's had whitewashed the Cupid, 
 2.13105 +but he was still to be seen on the ceiling, in the coolest linen, aiming (as 
 2.13106 +he very often does) at money from morning to night. Bankruptcy must 
 2.13107 +inevitably have come of this young Pagan, in Lombard-street, London, 
 2.13108 +and also of a curtained alcove in the rear of the immortal boy, and also of 
 2.13109 +a looking-glass let into the wall, and also of clerks not at all old, who 
 2.13110 +danced in public on the slightest provocation. Yet, a French Tellson's 
 2.13111 +
 2.13112 +
 2.13113 +
 2.13114 +259 
 2.13115 +
 2.13116 +
 2.13117 +
 2.13118 +could get on with these things exceedingly well, and, as long as the times 
 2.13119 +held together, no man had taken fright at them, and drawn out his 
 2.13120 +money. 
 2.13121 +
 2.13122 +What money would be drawn out of Tellson's henceforth, and what 
 2.13123 +would lie there, lost and forgotten; what plate and jewels would tarnish 
 2.13124 +in Tellson's hiding-places, while the depositors rusted in prisons, and 
 2.13125 +when they should have violently perished; how many accounts with 
 2.13126 +Tellson's never to be balanced in this world, must be carried over into the 
 2.13127 +next; no man could have said, that night, any more than Mr. Jarvis Lorry 
 2.13128 +could, though he thought heavily of these questions. He sat by a newly- 
 2.13129 +lighted wood fire (the blighted and unfruitful year was prematurely 
 2.13130 +cold), and on his honest and courageous face there was a deeper shade 
 2.13131 +than the pendent lamp could throw, or any object in the room distortedly 
 2.13132 +reflect - a shade of horror. 
 2.13133 +
 2.13134 +He occupied rooms in the Bank, in his fidelity to the House of which 
 2.13135 +he had grown to be a part, lie strong root-ivy. it chanced that they de- 
 2.13136 +rived a kind of security from the patriotic occupation of the main build- 
 2.13137 +ing, but the true-hearted old gentleman never calculated about that. All 
 2.13138 +such circumstances were indifferent to him, so that he did his duty. On 
 2.13139 +the opposite side of the courtyard, under a colonnade, was extensive 
 2.13140 +standing - for carriages - where, indeed, some carriages of Monseigneur 
 2.13141 +yet stood. Against two of the pillars were fastened two great flaring 
 2.13142 +flambeaux, and in the light of these, standing out in the open air, was a 
 2.13143 +large grindstone: a roughly mounted thing which appeared to have hur- 
 2.13144 +riedly been brought there from some neighbouring smithy, or other 
 2.13145 +workshop. Rising and looking out of window at these harmless objects, 
 2.13146 +Mr. Lorry shivered, and retired to his seat by the fire. He had opened, 
 2.13147 +not only the glass window, but the lattice blind outside it, and he had 
 2.13148 +closed both again, and he shivered through his frame. 
 2.13149 +
 2.13150 +From the streets beyond the high wall and the strong gate, there came 
 2.13151 +the usual night hum of the city, with now and then an indescribable ring 
 2.13152 +in it, weird and unearthly, as if some unwonted sounds of a terrible 
 2.13153 +nature were going up to Heaven. 
 2.13154 +
 2.13155 +"Thank God," said Mr. Lorry, clasping his hands, "that no one near and 
 2.13156 +dear to me is in this dreadful town to-night. May He have mercy on all 
 2.13157 +who are in danger!" 
 2.13158 +
 2.13159 +Soon afterwards, the bell at the great gate sounded, and he thought, 
 2.13160 +"They have come back!" and sat listening. But, there was no loud 
 2.13161 +
 2.13162 +
 2.13163 +
 2.13164 +260 
 2.13165 +
 2.13166 +
 2.13167 +
 2.13168 +irruption into the courtyard, as he had expected, and he heard the gate 
 2.13169 +clash again, and all was quiet. 
 2.13170 +
 2.13171 +The nervousness and dread that were upon him inspired that vague 
 2.13172 +uneasiness respecting the Bank, which a great change would naturally 
 2.13173 +awaken, with such feelings roused. It was well guarded, and he got up to 
 2.13174 +go among the trusty people who were watching it, when his door sud- 
 2.13175 +denly opened, and two figures rushed in, at sight of which he fell back in 
 2.13176 +amazement. 
 2.13177 +
 2.13178 +Lucie and her father! Lucie with her arms stretched out to him, and 
 2.13179 +with that old look of earnestness so concentrated and intensified, that it 
 2.13180 +seemed as though it had been stamped upon her face expressly to give 
 2.13181 +force and power to it in this one passage of her life. 
 2.13182 +
 2.13183 +"What is this?" cried Mr. Lorry, breathless and confused. "What is the 
 2.13184 +matter? Lucie! Manette! What has happened? What has brought you 
 2.13185 +here? What is it?" 
 2.13186 +
 2.13187 +With the look fixed upon him, in her paleness and wildness, she 
 2.13188 +panted out in his arms, imploringly, "O my dear friend! My husband!" 
 2.13189 +
 2.13190 +"Your husband, Lucie?" 
 2.13191 +
 2.13192 +"Charles." 
 2.13193 +
 2.13194 +"What of Charles?" 
 2.13195 +
 2.13196 +"Here. 
 2.13197 +
 2.13198 +"Here, in Paris?" 
 2.13199 +
 2.13200 +"Has been here some days - three or four - I don't know how many - I 
 2.13201 +can't collect my thoughts. An errand of generosity brought him here un- 
 2.13202 +known to us; he was stopped at the barrier, and sent to prison." 
 2.13203 +
 2.13204 +The old man uttered an irrepressible cry. Almost at the same moment, 
 2.13205 +the beg of the great gate rang again, and a loud noise of feet and voices 
 2.13206 +came pouring into the courtyard. 
 2.13207 +
 2.13208 +"What is that noise?" said the Doctor, turning towards the window. 
 2.13209 +
 2.13210 +"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry. "Don't look out! Manette, for your life, 
 2.13211 +don't touch the blind!" 
 2.13212 +
 2.13213 +The Doctor turned, with his hand upon the fastening of the window, 
 2.13214 +and said, with a cool, bold smile: 
 2.13215 +
 2.13216 +"My dear friend, I have a charmed life in this city. I have been a 
 2.13217 +Bastille prisoner. There is no patriot in Paris - in Paris? In France - who, 
 2.13218 +knowing me to have been a prisoner in the Bastille, would touch me, ex- 
 2.13219 +cept to overwhelm me with embraces, or carry me in triumph. My old 
 2.13220 +
 2.13221 +
 2.13222 +
 2.13223 +261 
 2.13224 +
 2.13225 +
 2.13226 +
 2.13227 +pain has given me a power that has brought us through the barrier, and 
 2.13228 +gained us news of Charles there, and brought us here. I knew it would 
 2.13229 +be so; I knew I could help Charles out of all danger; I told Lucie 
 2.13230 +so. - What is that noise?" His hand was again upon the window. 
 2.13231 +
 2.13232 +"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry, absolutely desperate. "No, Lucie, my 
 2.13233 +dear, nor you!" He got his arm round her, and held her. "Don't be so ter- 
 2.13234 +rified, my love. I solemnly swear to you that I know of no harm having 
 2.13235 +happened to Charles; that I had no suspicion even of his being in this 
 2.13236 +fatal place. What prison is he in?" 
 2.13237 +
 2.13238 +"La Force!" 
 2.13239 +
 2.13240 +"La Force! Lucie, my child, if ever you were brave and serviceable in 
 2.13241 +your life - and you were always both - you will compose yourself now, 
 2.13242 +to do exactly as I bid you; for more depends upon it than you can think, 
 2.13243 +or I can say. There is no help for you in any action on your part to-night; 
 2.13244 +you cannot possibly stir out. I say this, because what I must bid you to 
 2.13245 +do for Charles's sake, is the hardest thing to do of all. You must instantly 
 2.13246 +be obedient, still, and quiet. You must let me put you in a room at the 
 2.13247 +back here. You must leave your father and me alone for two minutes, 
 2.13248 +and as there are Life and Death in the world you must not delay." 
 2.13249 +
 2.13250 +"I will be submissive to you. I see in your face that you know I can do 
 2.13251 +nothing else than this. I know you are true." 
 2.13252 +
 2.13253 +The old man kissed her, and hurried her into his room, and turned the 
 2.13254 +key; then, came hurrying back to the Doctor, and opened the window 
 2.13255 +and partly opened the blind, and put his hand upon the Doctor's arm, 
 2.13256 +and looked out with him into the courtyard. 
 2.13257 +
 2.13258 +Looked out upon a throng of men and women: not enough in number, 
 2.13259 +or near enough, to fill the courtyard: not more than forty or fifty in all. 
 2.13260 +The people in possession of the house had let them in at the gate, and 
 2.13261 +they had rushed in to work at the grindstone; it had evidently been set 
 2.13262 +up there for their purpose, as in a convenient and retired spot. 
 2.13263 +
 2.13264 +But, such awful workers, and such awful work! 
 2.13265 +
 2.13266 +The grindstone had a double handle, and, turning at it madly were 
 2.13267 +two men, whose faces, as their long hair Rapped back when the whirl- 
 2.13268 +ings of the grindstone brought their faces up, were more horrible and 
 2.13269 +cruel than the visages of the wildest savages in their most barbarous dis- 
 2.13270 +guise. False eyebrows and false moustaches were stuck upon them, and 
 2.13271 +their hideous countenances were all bloody and sweaty, and all awry 
 2.13272 +with howling, and all staring and glaring with beastly excitement and 
 2.13273 +
 2.13274 +
 2.13275 +
 2.13276 +262 
 2.13277 +
 2.13278 +
 2.13279 +
 2.13280 +want of sleep. As these ruffians turned and turned, their matted locks 
 2.13281 +now flung forward over their eyes, now flung backward over their 
 2.13282 +necks, some women held wine to their mouths that they might drink; 
 2.13283 +and what with dropping blood, and what with dropping wine, and what 
 2.13284 +with the stream of sparks struck out of the stone, all their wicked atmo- 
 2.13285 +sphere seemed gore and fire. The eye could not detect one creature in the 
 2.13286 +group free from the smear of blood. Shouldering one another to get next 
 2.13287 +at the sharpening-stone, were men stripped to the waist, with the stain 
 2.13288 +all over their limbs and bodies; men in all sorts of rags, with the stain 
 2.13289 +upon those rags; men devilishly set off with spoils of women's lace and 
 2.13290 +silk and ribbon, with the stain dyeing those trifles through and through. 
 2.13291 +Hatchets, knives, bayonets, swords, all brought to be sharpened, were all 
 2.13292 +red with it. Some of the hacked swords were tied to the wrists of those 
 2.13293 +who carried them, with strips of linen and fragments of dress: ligatures 
 2.13294 +various in kind, but all deep of the one colour. And as the frantic wield- 
 2.13295 +ers of these weapons snatched them from the stream of sparks and tore 
 2.13296 +away into the streets, the same red hue was red in their frenzied 
 2.13297 +eyes; - eyes which any unbrutalised beholder would have given twenty 
 2.13298 +years of life, to petrify with a well-directed gun. 
 2.13299 +
 2.13300 +All this was seen in a moment, as the vision of a drowning man, or of 
 2.13301 +any human creature at any very great pass, could see a world if it were 
 2.13302 +there. They drew back from the window, and the Doctor looked for ex- 
 2.13303 +planation in his friend's ashy face. 
 2.13304 +
 2.13305 +"They are," Mr. Lorry whispered the words, glancing fearfully round 
 2.13306 +at the locked room, "murdering the prisoners. If you are sure of what 
 2.13307 +you say; if you really have the power you think you have - as I believe 
 2.13308 +you have - make yourself known to these devils, and get taken to La 
 2.13309 +Force. It may be too late, I don't know, but let it not be a minute later!" 
 2.13310 +
 2.13311 +Doctor Manette pressed his hand, hastened bareheaded out of the 
 2.13312 +room, and was in the courtyard when Mr. Lorry regained the blind. 
 2.13313 +
 2.13314 +His streaming white hair, his remarkable face, and the impetuous con- 
 2.13315 +fidence of his manner, as he put the weapons aside like water, carried 
 2.13316 +him in an instant to the heart of the concourse at the stone. For a few mo- 
 2.13317 +ments there was a pause, and a hurry, and a murmur, and the unintelli- 
 2.13318 +gible sound of his voice; and then Mr. Lorry saw him, surrounded by all, 
 2.13319 +and in the midst of a line of twenty men long, all linked shoulder to 
 2.13320 +shoulder, and hand to shoulder, hurried out with cries of - "Live the 
 2.13321 +Bastille prisoner! Help for the Bastille prisoner's kindred in La Force! 
 2.13322 +
 2.13323 +
 2.13324 +
 2.13325 +263 
 2.13326 +
 2.13327 +
 2.13328 +
 2.13329 +Room for the Bastille prisoner in front there! Save the prisoner Evre- 
 2.13330 +monde at La Force!" and a thousand answering shouts. 
 2.13331 +
 2.13332 +He closed the lattice again with a fluttering heart, closed the window 
 2.13333 +and the curtain, hastened to Lucie, and told her that her father was as- 
 2.13334 +sisted by the people, and gone in search of her husband. He found her 
 2.13335 +child and Miss Pross with her; but, it never occurred to him to be sur- 
 2.13336 +prised by their appearance until a long time afterwards, when he sat 
 2.13337 +watching them in such quiet as the night knew. 
 2.13338 +
 2.13339 +Lucie had, by that time, fallen into a stupor on the floor at his feet, 
 2.13340 +clinging to his hand. Miss Pross had laid the child down on his own bed, 
 2.13341 +and her head had gradually fallen on the pillow beside her pretty charge. 
 2.13342 +O the long, long night, with the moans of the poor wife! And O the long, 
 2.13343 +long night, with no return of her father and no tidings! 
 2.13344 +
 2.13345 +Twice more in the darkness the bell at the great gate sounded, and the 
 2.13346 +irruption was repeated, and the grindstone whirled and spluttered. 
 2.13347 +"What is it?" cried Lucie, affrighted. "Hush! The soldiers' swords are 
 2.13348 +sharpened there," said Mr. Lorry. "The place is national property now, 
 2.13349 +and used as a kind of armoury, my love." 
 2.13350 +
 2.13351 +Twice more in all; but, the last spell of work was feeble and fitful. Soon 
 2.13352 +afterwards the day began to dawn, and he softly detached himself from 
 2.13353 +the clasping hand, and cautiously looked out again. A man, so be- 
 2.13354 +smeared that he might have been a sorely wounded soldier creeping 
 2.13355 +back to consciousness on a field of slain, was rising from the pavement 
 2.13356 +by the side of the grindstone, and looking about him with a vacant air. 
 2.13357 +Shortly, this worn-out murderer descried in the imperfect light one of the 
 2.13358 +carriages of Monseigneur, and, staggering to that gorgeous vehicle, 
 2.13359 +climbed in at the door, and shut himself up to take his rest on its dainty 
 2.13360 +cushions. 
 2.13361 +
 2.13362 +The great grindstone, Earth, had turned when Mr. Lorry looked out 
 2.13363 +again, and the sun was red on the courtyard. But, the lesser grindstone 
 2.13364 +stood alone there in the calm morning air, with a red upon it that the sun 
 2.13365 +had never given, and would never take away. 
 2.13366 +
 2.13367 +
 2.13368 +
 2.13369 +264 
 2.13370 +
 2.13371 +
 2.13372 +
 2.13373 +Chapter 
 2.13374 +
 2.13375 +
 2.13376 +
 2.13377 +3 
 2.13378 +
 2.13379 +
 2.13380 +
 2.13381 +The Shadow 
 2.13382 +
 2.13383 +One of the first considerations which arose in the business mind of Mr. 
 2.13384 +Lorry when business hours came round, was this: - that he had no right 
 2.13385 +to imperil Tellson's by sheltering the wife of an emigrant prisoner under 
 2.13386 +the Bank roof, His own possessions, safety, life, he would have hazarded 
 2.13387 +for Lucie and her child, without a moment's demur; but the great trust he 
 2.13388 +held was not his own, and as to that business charge he was a strict man 
 2.13389 +of business. 
 2.13390 +
 2.13391 +At first, his mind reverted to Defarge, and he thought of finding out 
 2.13392 +the wine-shop again and taking counsel with its master in reference to 
 2.13393 +the safest dwelling-place in the distracted state of the city. But, the same 
 2.13394 +consideration that suggested him, repudiated him; he lived in the most 
 2.13395 +violent Quarter, and doubtless was influential there, and deep in its dan- 
 2.13396 +gerous workings. 
 2.13397 +
 2.13398 +Noon coming, and the Doctor not returning, and every minute's delay 
 2.13399 +tending to compromise Tellson's, Mr. Lorry advised with Lucie. She said 
 2.13400 +that her father had spoken of hiring a lodging for a short term, in that 
 2.13401 +Quarter, near the Banking-house. As there was no business objection to 
 2.13402 +this, and as he foresaw that even if it were all well with Charles, and he 
 2.13403 +were to be released, he could not hope to leave the city, Mr. Lorry went 
 2.13404 +out in quest of such a lodging, and found a suitable one, high up in a 
 2.13405 +removed by-street where the closed blinds in all the other windows of a 
 2.13406 +high melancholy square of buildings marked deserted homes. 
 2.13407 +
 2.13408 +To this lodging he at once removed Lucie and her child, and Miss 
 2.13409 +Pross: giving them what comfort he could, and much more than he had 
 2.13410 +himself. He left Jerry with them, as a figure to fill a doorway that would 
 2.13411 +bear considerable knocking on the head, and retained to his own occupa- 
 2.13412 +tions. A disturbed and doleful mind he brought to bear upon them, and 
 2.13413 +slowly and heavily the day lagged on with him. 
 2.13414 +
 2.13415 +
 2.13416 +
 2.13417 +265 
 2.13418 +
 2.13419 +
 2.13420 +
 2.13421 +It wore itself out, and wore him out with it, until the Bank closed. He 
 2.13422 +was again alone in his room of the previous night, considering what to 
 2.13423 +do next, when he heard a foot upon the stair. In a few moments, a man 
 2.13424 +stood in his presence, who, with a keenly observant look at him, ad- 
 2.13425 +dressed him by his name. 
 2.13426 +
 2.13427 +"Your servant," said Mr. Lorry. "Do you know me?" 
 2.13428 +
 2.13429 +He was a strongly made man with dark curling hair, from forty-five to 
 2.13430 +fifty years of age. For answer he repeated, without any change of em- 
 2.13431 +phasis, the words: 
 2.13432 +
 2.13433 +"Do you know me?" 
 2.13434 +
 2.13435 +"I have seen you somewhere." 
 2.13436 +
 2.13437 +"Perhaps at my wine-shop?" 
 2.13438 +
 2.13439 +Much interested and agitated, Mr. Lorry said: "You come from Doctor 
 2.13440 +Manette?" 
 2.13441 +
 2.13442 +"Yes. I come from Doctor Manette." 
 2.13443 +
 2.13444 +"And what says he? What does he send me?" 
 2.13445 +
 2.13446 +Defarge gave into his anxious hand, an open scrap of paper. It bore the 
 2.13447 +words in the Doctor's writing: 
 2.13448 +
 2.13449 +"Charles is safe, but I cannot safely leave this place yet. I have obtained 
 2.13450 +the favour that the bearer has a short note from Charles to his wife. Let 
 2.13451 +the bearer see his wife." 
 2.13452 +
 2.13453 +It was dated from La Force, within an hour. 
 2.13454 +
 2.13455 +"Will you accompany me," said Mr. Lorry, joyfully relieved after read- 
 2.13456 +ing this note aloud, "to where his wife resides?" 
 2.13457 +
 2.13458 +"Yes," returned Defarge. 
 2.13459 +
 2.13460 +Scarcely noticing as yet, in what a curiously reserved and mechanical 
 2.13461 +way Defarge spoke, Mr. Lorry put on his hat and they went down into 
 2.13462 +the courtyard. There, they found two women; one, knitting. 
 2.13463 +
 2.13464 +"Madame Defarge, surely!" said Mr. Lorry, who had left her in exactly 
 2.13465 +the same attitude some seventeen years ago. 
 2.13466 +
 2.13467 +"It is she," observed her husband. 
 2.13468 +
 2.13469 +"Does Madame go with us?" inquired Mr. Lorry, seeing that she 
 2.13470 +moved as they moved. 
 2.13471 +
 2.13472 +"Yes. That she may be able to recognise the faces and know the per- 
 2.13473 +sons. It is for their safety." 
 2.13474 +
 2.13475 +
 2.13476 +
 2.13477 +266 
 2.13478 +
 2.13479 +
 2.13480 +
 2.13481 +Beginning to be struck by Defarge's manner, Mr. Lorry looked dubi- 
 2.13482 +ously at him, and led the way. Both the women followed; the second wo- 
 2.13483 +man being The Vengeance. 
 2.13484 +
 2.13485 +They passed through the intervening streets as quickly as they might, 
 2.13486 +ascended the staircase of the new domicile, were admitted by Jerry, and 
 2.13487 +found Lucie weeping, alone. She was thrown into a transport by the tid- 
 2.13488 +ings Mr. Lorry gave her of her husband, and clasped the hand that de- 
 2.13489 +livered his note - little thinking what it had been doing near him in the 
 2.13490 +night, and might, but for a chance, have done to him. 
 2.13491 +
 2.13492 +"Dearest, - Take courage. I am well, and your father has influence 
 2.13493 +around me. You cannot answer this. Kiss our child for me." 
 2.13494 +
 2.13495 +That was all the writing. It was so much, however, to her who received 
 2.13496 +it, that she turned from Defarge to his wife, and kissed one of the hands 
 2.13497 +that knitted. It was a passionate, loving, thankful, womanly action, but 
 2.13498 +the hand made no response - dropped cold and heavy, and took to its 
 2.13499 +knitting again. 
 2.13500 +
 2.13501 +There was something in its touch that gave Lucie a check. She stopped 
 2.13502 +in the act of putting the note in her bosom, and, with her hands yet at her 
 2.13503 +neck, looked terrified at Madame Defarge. Madame Defarge met the lif- 
 2.13504 +ted eyebrows and forehead with a cold, impassive stare. 
 2.13505 +
 2.13506 +"My dear," said Mr. Lorry, striking in to explain; "there are frequent 
 2.13507 +risings in the streets; and, although it is not likely they will ever trouble 
 2.13508 +you, Madame Defarge wishes to see those whom she has the power to 
 2.13509 +protect at such times, to the end that she may know them - that she may 
 2.13510 +identify them. I believe," said Mr. Lorry, rather halting in his reassuring 
 2.13511 +words, as the stony manner of all the three impressed itself upon him 
 2.13512 +more and more, "I state the case, Citizen Defarge?" 
 2.13513 +
 2.13514 +Defarge looked gloomily at his wife, and gave no other answer than a 
 2.13515 +gruff sound of acquiescence. 
 2.13516 +
 2.13517 +"You had better, Lucie," said Mr. Lorry, doing all he could to propiti- 
 2.13518 +ate, by tone and manner, "have the dear child here, and our good Pross. 
 2.13519 +Our good Pross, Defarge, is an English lady, and knows no French." 
 2.13520 +
 2.13521 +The lady in question, whose rooted conviction that she was more than 
 2.13522 +a match for any foreigner, was not to be shaken by distress and, danger, 
 2.13523 +appeared with folded arms, and observed in English to The Vengeance, 
 2.13524 +whom her eyes first encountered, "Well, I am sure, Boldface! I hope you 
 2.13525 +are pretty well!" She also bestowed a British cough on Madame Defarge; 
 2.13526 +but, neither of the two took much heed of her. 
 2.13527 +
 2.13528 +
 2.13529 +
 2.13530 +267 
 2.13531 +
 2.13532 +
 2.13533 +
 2.13534 +"Is that his child?" said Madame Defarge, stopping in her work for the 
 2.13535 +first time, and pointing her knitting-needle at little Lucie as if it were the 
 2.13536 +finger of Fate. 
 2.13537 +
 2.13538 +"Yes, madame," answered Mr. Lorry; "this is our poor prisoner's 
 2.13539 +darling daughter, and only child." 
 2.13540 +
 2.13541 +The shadow attendant on Madame Defarge and her party seemed to 
 2.13542 +fall so threatening and dark on the child, that her mother instinctively 
 2.13543 +kneeled on the ground beside her, and held her to her breast. The shad- 
 2.13544 +ow attendant on Madame Defarge and her party seemed then to fall, 
 2.13545 +threatening and dark, on both the mother and the child. 
 2.13546 +
 2.13547 +"It is enough, my husband," said Madame Defarge. "I have seen them. 
 2.13548 +We may go." 
 2.13549 +
 2.13550 +But, the suppressed manner had enough of menace in it - not visible 
 2.13551 +and presented, but indistinct and withheld - to alarm Lucie into saying, 
 2.13552 +as she laid her appealing hand on Madame Defarge's dress: 
 2.13553 +
 2.13554 +"You will be good to my poor husband. You will do him no harm. You 
 2.13555 +will help me to see him if you can?" 
 2.13556 +
 2.13557 +"Your husband is not my business here," returned Madame Defarge, 
 2.13558 +looking down at her with perfect composure. "It is the daughter of your 
 2.13559 +father who is my business here." 
 2.13560 +
 2.13561 +"For my sake, then, be merciful to my husband. For my child's sake! 
 2.13562 +She will put her hands together and pray you to be merciful. We are 
 2.13563 +more afraid of you than of these others." 
 2.13564 +
 2.13565 +Madame Defarge received it as a compliment, and looked at her hus- 
 2.13566 +band. Defarge, who had been uneasily biting his thumb-nail and looking 
 2.13567 +at her, collected his face into a sterner expression. 
 2.13568 +
 2.13569 +"What is it that your husband says in that little letter?" asked Madame 
 2.13570 +Defarge, with a lowering smile. "Influence; he says something touching 
 2.13571 +influence?" 
 2.13572 +
 2.13573 +"That my father," said Lucie, hurriedly taking the paper from her 
 2.13574 +breast, but with her alarmed eyes on her questioner and not on it, "has 
 2.13575 +much influence around him." 
 2.13576 +
 2.13577 +"Surely it will release him!" said Madame Defarge. "Let it do so." 
 2.13578 +
 2.13579 +"As a wife and mother," cried Lucie, most earnestly, "I implore you to 
 2.13580 +have pity on me and not to exercise any power that you possess, against 
 2.13581 +my innocent husband, but to use it in his behalf. O sister-woman, think 
 2.13582 +of me. As a wife and mother!" 
 2.13583 +
 2.13584 +
 2.13585 +
 2.13586 +268 
 2.13587 +
 2.13588 +
 2.13589 +
 2.13590 +Madame Defarge looked, coldly as ever, at the suppliant, and said, 
 2.13591 +turning to her friend The Vengeance: 
 2.13592 +
 2.13593 +"The wives and mothers we have been used to see, since we were as 
 2.13594 +little as this child, and much less, have not been greatly considered? We 
 2.13595 +have known their husbands and fathers laid in prison and kept from 
 2.13596 +them, often enough? All our lives, we have seen our sister-women suffer, 
 2.13597 +in themselves and in their children, poverty, nakedness, hunger, thirst, 
 2.13598 +sickness, misery, oppression and neglect of all kinds?" 
 2.13599 +
 2.13600 +"We have seen nothing else," returned The Vengeance. 
 2.13601 +
 2.13602 +"We have borne this a long time," said Madame Defarge, turning her 
 2.13603 +eyes again upon Lucie. "Judge you! Is it likely that the trouble of one wife 
 2.13604 +and mother would be much to us now?" 
 2.13605 +
 2.13606 +She resumed her knitting and went out. The Vengeance followed. De- 
 2.13607 +farge went last, and closed the door. 
 2.13608 +
 2.13609 +"Courage, my dear Lucie," said Mr. Lorry, as he raised her. "Courage, 
 2.13610 +courage! So far all goes well with us - much, much better than it has of 
 2.13611 +late gone with many poor souls. Cheer up, and have a thankful heart." 
 2.13612 +
 2.13613 +"I am not thankless, I hope, but that dreadful woman seems to throw a 
 2.13614 +shadow on me and on all my hopes." 
 2.13615 +
 2.13616 +"Tut, tut!" said Mr. Lorry; "what is this despondency in the brave little 
 2.13617 +breast? A shadow indeed! No substance in it, Lucie." 
 2.13618 +
 2.13619 +But the shadow of the manner of these Defarges was dark upon him- 
 2.13620 +self, for all that, and in his secret mind it troubled him greatly. 
 2.13621 +
 2.13622 +
 2.13623 +
 2.13624 +269 
 2.13625 +
 2.13626 +
 2.13627 +
 2.13628 +Chapter 
 2.13629 +
 2.13630 +
 2.13631 +
 2.13632 +4 
 2.13633 +
 2.13634 +
 2.13635 +
 2.13636 +Calm in Storm 
 2.13637 +
 2.13638 +Doctor Manette did not return until the morning of the fourth day of 
 2.13639 +his absence. So much of what had happened in that dreadful time as 
 2.13640 +could be kept from the knowledge of Lucie was so well concealed from 
 2.13641 +her, that not until long afterwards, when France and she were far apart, 
 2.13642 +did she know that eleven hundred defenceless prisoners of both sexes 
 2.13643 +and all ages had been killed by the populace; that four days and nights 
 2.13644 +had been darkened by this deed of horror; and that the air around her 
 2.13645 +had been tainted by the slain. She only knew that there had been an at- 
 2.13646 +tack upon the prisons, that all political prisoners had been in danger, and 
 2.13647 +that some had been dragged out by the crowd and murdered. 
 2.13648 +
 2.13649 +To Mr. Lorry, the Doctor communicated under an injunction of secrecy 
 2.13650 +on which he had no need to dwell, that the crowd had taken him 
 2.13651 +through a scene of carnage to the prison of La Force. That, in the prison 
 2.13652 +he had found a self-appointed Tribunal sitting, before which the prison- 
 2.13653 +ers were brought singly, and by which they were rapidly ordered to be 
 2.13654 +put forth to be massacred, or to be released, or (in a few cases) to be sent 
 2.13655 +back to their cells. That, presented by his conductors to this Tribunal, he 
 2.13656 +had announced himself by name and profession as having been for 
 2.13657 +eighteen years a secret and unaccused prisoner in the Bastille; that, one 
 2.13658 +of the body so sitting in judgment had risen and identified him, and that 
 2.13659 +this man was Defarge. 
 2.13660 +
 2.13661 +That, hereupon he had ascertained, through the registers on the table, 
 2.13662 +that his son-in-law was among the living prisoners, and had pleaded 
 2.13663 +hard to the Tribunal - of whom some members were asleep and some 
 2.13664 +awake, some dirty with murder and some clean, some sober and some 
 2.13665 +not - for his life and liberty. That, in the first frantic greetings lavished on 
 2.13666 +himself as a notable sufferer under the overthrown system, it had been 
 2.13667 +accorded to him to have Charles Darnay brought before the lawless 
 2.13668 +Court, and examined. That, he seemed on the point of being at once re- 
 2.13669 +leased, when the tide in his favour met with some unexplained check 
 2.13670 +
 2.13671 +
 2.13672 +
 2.13673 +270 
 2.13674 +
 2.13675 +
 2.13676 +
 2.13677 +(not intelligible to the Doctor), which led to a few words of secret confer- 
 2.13678 +ence. That, the man sitting as President had then informed Doctor 
 2.13679 +Manette that the prisoner must remain in custody, but should, for his 
 2.13680 +sake, be held inviolate in safe custody. That, immediately, on a signal, 
 2.13681 +the prisoner was removed to the interior of the prison again; but, that he, 
 2.13682 +the Doctor, had then so strongly pleaded for permission to remain and 
 2.13683 +assure himself that his son-in-law was, through no malice or mischance, 
 2.13684 +delivered to the concourse whose murderous yells outside the gate had 
 2.13685 +often drowned the proceedings, that he had obtained the permission, 
 2.13686 +and had remained in that Hall of Blood until the danger was over. 
 2.13687 +
 2.13688 +The sights he had seen there, with brief snatches of food and sleep by 
 2.13689 +intervals, shall remain untold. The mad joy over the prisoners who were 
 2.13690 +saved, had astounded him scarcely less than the mad ferocity against 
 2.13691 +those who were cut to pieces. One prisoner there was, he said, who had 
 2.13692 +been discharged into the street free, but at whom a mistaken savage had 
 2.13693 +thrust a pike as he passed out. Being besought to go to him and dress the 
 2.13694 +wound, the Doctor had passed out at the same gate, and had found him 
 2.13695 +in the arms of a company of Samaritans, who were seated on the bodies 
 2.13696 +of their victims. With an inconsistency as monstrous as anything in this 
 2.13697 +awful nightmare, they had helped the healer, and tended the wounded 
 2.13698 +man with the gentlest solicitude - had made a litter for him and escorted 
 2.13699 +him carefully from the spot - had then caught up their weapons and 
 2.13700 +plunged anew into a butchery so dreadful, that the Doctor had covered 
 2.13701 +his eyes with his hands, and swooned away in the midst of it. 
 2.13702 +
 2.13703 +As Mr. Lorry received these confidences, and as he watched the face of 
 2.13704 +his friend now sixty-two years of age, a misgiving arose within him that 
 2.13705 +such dread experiences would revive the old danger. 
 2.13706 +
 2.13707 +But, he had never seen his friend in his present aspect: he had never at 
 2.13708 +all known him in his present character. For the first time the Doctor felt, 
 2.13709 +now, that his suffering was strength and power. For the first time he felt 
 2.13710 +that in that sharp fire, he had slowly forged the iron which could break 
 2.13711 +the prison door of his daughter's husband, and deliver him. "It all tended 
 2.13712 +to a good end, my friend; it was not mere waste and ruin. As my beloved 
 2.13713 +child was helpful in restoring me to myself, I will be helpful now in 
 2.13714 +restoring the dearest part of herself to her; by the aid of Heaven I will do 
 2.13715 +it!" Thus, Doctor Manette. And when Jarvis Lorry saw the kindled eyes, 
 2.13716 +the resolute face, the calm strong look and bearing of the man whose life 
 2.13717 +always seemed to him to have been stopped, like a clock, for so many 
 2.13718 +years, and then set going again with an energy which had lain dormant 
 2.13719 +during the cessation of its usefulness, he believed. 
 2.13720 +
 2.13721 +
 2.13722 +
 2.13723 +271 
 2.13724 +
 2.13725 +
 2.13726 +
 2.13727 +Greater things than the Doctor had at that time to contend with, would 
 2.13728 +have yielded before his persevering purpose. While he kept himself in 
 2.13729 +his place, as a physician, whose business was with all degrees of man- 
 2.13730 +kind, bond and free, rich and poor, bad and good, he used his personal 
 2.13731 +influence so wisely, that he was soon the inspecting physician of three 
 2.13732 +prisons, and among them of La Force. He could now assure Lucie that 
 2.13733 +her husband was no longer confined alone, but was mixed with the gen- 
 2.13734 +eral body of prisoners; he saw her husband weekly, and brought sweet 
 2.13735 +messages to her, straight from his lips; sometimes her husband himself 
 2.13736 +sent a letter to her (though never by the Doctor's hand), but she was not 
 2.13737 +permitted to write to him: for, among the many wild suspicions of plots 
 2.13738 +in the prisons, the wildest of all pointed at emigrants who were known 
 2.13739 +to have made friends or permanent connexions abroad. 
 2.13740 +
 2.13741 +This new life of the Doctor's was an anxious life, no doubt; still, the 
 2.13742 +sagacious Mr. Lorry saw that there was a new sustaining pride in it. 
 2.13743 +Nothing unbecoming tinged the pride; it was a natural and worthy one; 
 2.13744 +but he observed it as a curiosity. The Doctor knew, that up to that time, 
 2.13745 +his imprisonment had been associated in the minds of his daughter and 
 2.13746 +his friend, with his personal affliction, deprivation, and weakness. Now 
 2.13747 +that this was changed, and he knew himself to be invested through that 
 2.13748 +old trial with forces to which they both looked for Charles's ultimate 
 2.13749 +safety and deliverance, he became so far exalted by the change, that he 
 2.13750 +took the lead and direction, and required them as the weak, to trust to 
 2.13751 +him as the strong. The preceding relative positions of himself and Lucie 
 2.13752 +were reversed, yet only as the liveliest gratitude and affection could re- 
 2.13753 +verse them, for he could have had no pride but in rendering some ser- 
 2.13754 +vice to her who had rendered so much to him. "All curious to see," 
 2.13755 +thought Mr. Lorry, in his amiably shrewd way, "but all natural and right; 
 2.13756 +so, take the lead, my dear friend, and keep it; it couldn't be in better 
 2.13757 +hands." 
 2.13758 +
 2.13759 +But, though the Doctor tried hard, and never ceased trying, to get 
 2.13760 +Charles Darnay set at liberty, or at least to get him brought to trial, the 
 2.13761 +public current of the time set too strong and fast for him. The new era 
 2.13762 +began; the king was tried, doomed, and beheaded; the Republic of 
 2.13763 +Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, declared for victory or death 
 2.13764 +against the world in arms; the black flag waved night and day from the 
 2.13765 +great towers of Notre Dame; three hundred thousand men, summoned 
 2.13766 +to rise against the tyrants of the earth, rose from all the varying soils of 
 2.13767 +France, as if the dragon's teeth had been sown broadcast, and had yiel- 
 2.13768 +ded fruit equally on hill and plain, on rock, in gravel, and alluvial mud, 
 2.13769 +
 2.13770 +
 2.13771 +
 2.13772 +272 
 2.13773 +
 2.13774 +
 2.13775 +
 2.13776 +under the bright sky of the South and under the clouds of the North, in 
 2.13777 +fell and forest, in the vineyards and the olive-grounds and among the 
 2.13778 +cropped grass and the stubble of the corn, along the fruitful banks of the 
 2.13779 +broad rivers, and in the sand of the sea-shore. What private solicitude 
 2.13780 +could rear itself against the deluge of the Year One of Liberty - the de- 
 2.13781 +luge rising from below, not falling from above, and with the windows of 
 2.13782 +Heaven shut, not opened! 
 2.13783 +
 2.13784 +There was no pause, no pity, no peace, no interval of relenting rest, no 
 2.13785 +measurement of time. Though days and nights circled as regularly as 
 2.13786 +when time was young, and the evening and morning were the first day, 
 2.13787 +other count of time there was none. Hold of it was lost in the raging 
 2.13788 +fever of a nation, as it is in the fever of one patient. Now, breaking the 
 2.13789 +unnatural silence of a whole city, the executioner showed the people the 
 2.13790 +head of the king - and now, it seemed almost in the same breath, the 
 2.13791 +head of his fair wife which had had eight weary months of imprisoned 
 2.13792 +widowhood and misery, to turn it grey. 
 2.13793 +
 2.13794 +And yet, observing the strange law of contradiction which obtains in 
 2.13795 +all such cases, the time was long, while it flamed by so fast. A revolution- 
 2.13796 +ary tribunal in the capital, and forty or fifty thousand revolutionary com- 
 2.13797 +mittees all over the land; a law of the Suspected, which struck away all 
 2.13798 +security for liberty or life, and delivered over any good and innocent per- 
 2.13799 +son to any bad and guilty one; prisons gorged with people who had 
 2.13800 +committed no offence, and could obtain no hearing; these things became 
 2.13801 +the established order and nature of appointed things, and seemed to be 
 2.13802 +ancient usage before they were many weeks old. Above all, one hideous 
 2.13803 +figure grew as familiar as if it had been before the general gaze from the 
 2.13804 +foundations of the world - the figure of the sharp female called La 
 2.13805 +Guillotine. 
 2.13806 +
 2.13807 +It was the popular theme for jests; it was the best cure for headache, it 
 2.13808 +infallibly prevented the hair from turning grey, it imparted a peculiar 
 2.13809 +delicacy to the complexion, it was the National Razor which shaved 
 2.13810 +close: who kissed La Guillotine, looked through the little window and 
 2.13811 +sneezed into the sack. It was the sign of the regeneration of the human 
 2.13812 +race. It superseded the Cross. Models of it were worn on breasts from 
 2.13813 +which the Cross was discarded, and it was bowed down to and believed 
 2.13814 +in where the Cross was denied. 
 2.13815 +
 2.13816 +It sheared off heads so many, that it, and the ground it most polluted, 
 2.13817 +were a rotten red. It was taken to pieces, like a toy-puzzle for a young 
 2.13818 +Devil, and was put together again when the occasion wanted it. It 
 2.13819 +
 2.13820 +
 2.13821 +
 2.13822 +273 
 2.13823 +
 2.13824 +
 2.13825 +
 2.13826 +hushed the eloquent, struck down the powerful, abolished the beautiful 
 2.13827 +and good. Twenty-two friends of high public mark, twenty-one living 
 2.13828 +and one dead, it had lopped the heads off, in one morning, in as many 
 2.13829 +minutes. The name of the strong man of Old Scripture had descended to 
 2.13830 +the chief functionary who worked it; but, so armed, he was stronger than 
 2.13831 +his namesake, and blinder, and tore away the gates of God's own Temple 
 2.13832 +every day. 
 2.13833 +
 2.13834 +Among these terrors, and the brood belonging to them, the Doctor 
 2.13835 +walked with a steady head: confident in his power, cautiously persistent 
 2.13836 +in his end, never doubting that he would save Lucie's husband at last. 
 2.13837 +Yet the current of the time swept by, so strong and deep, and carried the 
 2.13838 +time away so fiercely, that Charles had lain in prison one year and three 
 2.13839 +months when the Doctor was thus steady and confident. So much more 
 2.13840 +wicked and distracted had the Revolution grown in that December 
 2.13841 +month, that the rivers of the South were encumbered with the bodies of 
 2.13842 +the violently drowned by night, and prisoners were shot in lines and 
 2.13843 +squares under the southern wintry sun. Still, the Doctor walked among 
 2.13844 +the terrors with a steady head. No man better known than he, in Paris at 
 2.13845 +that day; no man in a stranger situation. Silent, humane, indispensable in 
 2.13846 +hospital and prison, using his art equally among assassins and victims, 
 2.13847 +he was a man apart. In the exercise of his skill, the appearance and the 
 2.13848 +story of the Bastille Captive removed him from all other men. He was 
 2.13849 +not suspected or brought in question, any more than if he had indeed 
 2.13850 +been recalled to life some eighteen years before, or were a Spirit moving 
 2.13851 +among mortals. 
 2.13852 +
 2.13853 +
 2.13854 +
 2.13855 +274: 
 2.13856 +
 2.13857 +
 2.13858 +
 2.13859 +Chapter 
 2.13860 +
 2.13861 +
 2.13862 +
 2.13863 +5 
 2.13864 +
 2.13865 +
 2.13866 +
 2.13867 +The Wood-sawyer 
 2.13868 +
 2.13869 +One year and three months. During all that time Lucie was never sure, 
 2.13870 +from hour to hour, but that the Guillotine would strike off her husband's 
 2.13871 +head next day. Every day, through the stony streets, the tumbrils now 
 2.13872 +jolted heavily, filled with Condemned. Lovely girls; bright women, 
 2.13873 +brown-haired, black-haired, and grey; youths; stalwart men and old; 
 2.13874 +gentle born and peasant born; all red wine for La Guillotine, all daily 
 2.13875 +brought into light from the dark cellars of the loathsome prisons, and 
 2.13876 +carried to her through the streets to slake her devouring thirst. Liberty, 
 2.13877 +equality, fraternity, or death; - the last, much the easiest to bestow, O 
 2.13878 +Guillotine! 
 2.13879 +
 2.13880 +If the suddenness of her calamity, and the whirling wheels of the time, 
 2.13881 +had stunned the Doctor's daughter into awaiting the result in idle des- 
 2.13882 +pair, it would but have been with her as it was with many. But, from the 
 2.13883 +hour when she had taken the white head to her fresh young bosom in the 
 2.13884 +garret of Saint Antoine, she had been true to her duties. She was truest to 
 2.13885 +them in the season of trial, as all the quietly loyal and good will always 
 2.13886 +be. 
 2.13887 +
 2.13888 +As soon as they were established in their new residence, and her father 
 2.13889 +had entered on the routine of his avocations, she arranged the little 
 2.13890 +household as exactly as if her husband had been there. Everything had 
 2.13891 +its appointed place and its appointed time. Little Lucie she taught, as 
 2.13892 +regularly, as if they had all been united in their English home. The slight 
 2.13893 +devices with which she cheated herself into the show of a belief that they 
 2.13894 +would soon be reunited - the little preparations for his speedy return, 
 2.13895 +the setting aside of his chair and his books - these, and the solemn pray- 
 2.13896 +er at night for one dear prisoner especially, among the many unhappy 
 2.13897 +souls in prison and the shadow of death - were almost the only out- 
 2.13898 +spoken reliefs of her heavy mind. 
 2.13899 +
 2.13900 +She did not greatly alter in appearance. The plain dark dresses, akin to 
 2.13901 +mourning dresses, which she and her child wore, were as neat and as 
 2.13902 +
 2.13903 +
 2.13904 +
 2.13905 +275 
 2.13906 +
 2.13907 +
 2.13908 +
 2.13909 +well attended to as the brighter clothes of happy days. She lost her col- 
 2.13910 +our, and the old and intent expression was a constant, not an occasional, 
 2.13911 +thing; otherwise, she remained very pretty and comely. Sometimes, at 
 2.13912 +night on kissing her father, she would burst into the grief she had 
 2.13913 +repressed all day, and would say that her sole reliance, under Heaven, 
 2.13914 +was on him. He always resolutely answered: "Nothing can happen to 
 2.13915 +him without my knowledge, and I know that I can save him, Lucie." 
 2.13916 +
 2.13917 +They had not made the round of their changed life many weeks, when 
 2.13918 +her father said to her, on coming home one evening: 
 2.13919 +
 2.13920 +"My dear, there is an upper window in the prison, to which Charles 
 2.13921 +can sometimes gain access at three in the afternoon. When he can get to 
 2.13922 +it - which depends on many uncertainties and incidents - he might see 
 2.13923 +you in the street, he thinks, if you stood in a certain place that I can show 
 2.13924 +you. But you will not be able to see him, my poor child, and even if you 
 2.13925 +could, it would be unsafe for you to make a sign of recognition." 
 2.13926 +
 2.13927 +"O show me the place, my father, and I will go there every day." 
 2.13928 +
 2.13929 +From that time, in all weathers, she waited there two hours. As the 
 2.13930 +clock struck two, she was there, and at four she turned resignedly away. 
 2.13931 +When it was not too wet or inclement for her child to be with her, they 
 2.13932 +went together; at other times she was alone; but, she never missed a 
 2.13933 +single day. 
 2.13934 +
 2.13935 +It was the dark and dirty corner of a small winding street. The hovel of 
 2.13936 +a cutter of wood into lengths for burning, was the only house at that end; 
 2.13937 +all else was wall. On the third day of her being there, he noticed her. 
 2.13938 +
 2.13939 +"Good day, citizeness." 
 2.13940 +
 2.13941 +"Good day, citizen." 
 2.13942 +
 2.13943 +This mode of address was now prescribed by decree. It had been es- 
 2.13944 +tablished voluntarily some time ago, among the more thorough patriots; 
 2.13945 +but, was now law for everybody. 
 2.13946 +
 2.13947 +"Walking here again, citizeness?" 
 2.13948 +
 2.13949 +"You see me, citizen!" 
 2.13950 +
 2.13951 +The wood-sawyer, who was a little man with a redundancy of gesture 
 2.13952 +(he had once been a mender of roads), cast a glance at the prison, pointed 
 2.13953 +at the prison, and putting his ten fingers before his face to represent bars, 
 2.13954 +peeped through them jocosely. 
 2.13955 +
 2.13956 +"But it's not my business," said he. And went on sawing his wood. 
 2.13957 +
 2.13958 +
 2.13959 +
 2.13960 +276 
 2.13961 +
 2.13962 +
 2.13963 +
 2.13964 +Next day he was looking out for her, and accosted her the moment she 
 2.13965 +appeared. 
 2.13966 +
 2.13967 +"What? Walking here again, citizeness?" 
 2.13968 +
 2.13969 +"Yes, citizen." 
 2.13970 +
 2.13971 +"Ah! A child too! Your mother, is it not, my little citizeness?" 
 2.13972 +
 2.13973 +"Do I say yes, mamma?" whispered little Lucie, drawing close to her. 
 2.13974 +
 2.13975 +"Yes, dearest." 
 2.13976 +
 2.13977 +"Yes, citizen." 
 2.13978 +
 2.13979 +"Ah! But it's not my business. My work is my business. See my saw! I 
 2.13980 +call it my Little Guillotine. La, la, la; La, la, la! And off his head comes!" 
 2.13981 +
 2.13982 +The billet fell as he spoke, and he threw it into a basket. 
 2.13983 +
 2.13984 +"I call myself the Samson of the firewood guillotine. See here again! 
 2.13985 +Loo, loo, loo; Loo, loo, loo! And off her head comes! Now, a child. Tickle, 
 2.13986 +tickle; Pickle, pickle! And off its head comes. All the family!" 
 2.13987 +
 2.13988 +Lucie shuddered as he threw two more billets into his basket, but it 
 2.13989 +was impossible to be there while the wood-sawyer was at work, and not 
 2.13990 +be in his sight. Thenceforth, to secure his good will, she always spoke to 
 2.13991 +him first, and often gave him drink-money, which he readily received. 
 2.13992 +
 2.13993 +He was an inquisitive fellow, and sometimes when she had quite for- 
 2.13994 +gotten him in gazing at the prison roof and grates, and in lifting her 
 2.13995 +heart up to her husband, she would come to herself to find him looking 
 2.13996 +at her, with his knee on his bench and his saw stopped in its work. "But 
 2.13997 +it's not my business!" he would generally say at those times, and would 
 2.13998 +briskly fall to his sawing again. 
 2.13999 +
 2.14000 +In all weathers, in the snow and frost of winter, in the bitter winds of 
 2.14001 +spring, in the hot sunshine of summer, in the rains of autumn, and again 
 2.14002 +in the snow and frost of winter, Lucie passed two hours of every day at 
 2.14003 +this place; and every day on leaving it, she kissed the prison wall. Her 
 2.14004 +husband saw her (so she learned from her father) it might be once in five 
 2.14005 +or six times: it might be twice or thrice running: it might be, not for a 
 2.14006 +week or a fortnight together. It was enough that he could and did see her 
 2.14007 +when the chances served, and on that possibility she would have waited 
 2.14008 +out the day, seven days a week. 
 2.14009 +
 2.14010 +These occupations brought her round to the December month, 
 2.14011 +wherein her father walked among the terrors with a steady head. On a 
 2.14012 +lightly-snowing afternoon she arrived at the usual corner. It was a day of 
 2.14013 +some wild rejoicing, and a festival. She had seen the houses, as she came 
 2.14014 +
 2.14015 +
 2.14016 +
 2.14017 +277 
 2.14018 +
 2.14019 +
 2.14020 +
 2.14021 +along, decorated with little pikes, and with little red caps stuck upon 
 2.14022 +them; also, with tricoloured ribbons; also, with the standard inscription 
 2.14023 +(tricoloured letters were the favourite), Republic One and Indivisible. 
 2.14024 +Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death! 
 2.14025 +
 2.14026 +The miserable shop of the wood-sawyer was so small, that its whole 
 2.14027 +surface furnished very indifferent space for this legend. He had got 
 2.14028 +somebody to scrawl it up for him, however, who had squeezed Death in 
 2.14029 +with most inappropriate difficulty. On his house-top, he displayed pike 
 2.14030 +and cap, as a good citizen must, and in a window he had stationed his 
 2.14031 +saw inscribed as his "Little Sainte Guillotine" - for the great sharp fe- 
 2.14032 +male was by that time popularly canonised. His shop was shut and he 
 2.14033 +was not there, which was a relief to Lucie, and left her quite alone. 
 2.14034 +
 2.14035 +But, he was not far off, for presently she heard a troubled movement 
 2.14036 +and a shouting coming along, which filled her with fear. A moment af- 
 2.14037 +terwards, and a throng of people came pouring round the corner by the 
 2.14038 +prison wall, in the midst of whom was the wood-sawyer hand in hand 
 2.14039 +with The Vengeance. There could not be fewer than five hundred people, 
 2.14040 +and they were dancing like five thousand demons. There was no other 
 2.14041 +music than their own singing. They danced to the popular Revolution 
 2.14042 +song, keeping a ferocious time that was like a gnashing of teeth in uni- 
 2.14043 +son. Men and women danced together, women danced together, men 
 2.14044 +danced together, as hazard had brought them together. At first, they 
 2.14045 +were a mere storm of coarse red caps and coarse woollen rags; but, as 
 2.14046 +they filled the place, and stopped to dance about Lucie, some ghastly ap- 
 2.14047 +parition of a dance-figure gone raving mad arose among them. They ad- 
 2.14048 +vanced, retreated, struck at one another's hands, clutched at one 
 2.14049 +another's heads, spun round alone, caught one another and spun round 
 2.14050 +in pairs, until many of them dropped. While those were down, the rest 
 2.14051 +linked hand in hand, and all spun round together: then the ring broke, 
 2.14052 +and in separate rings of two and four they turned and turned until they 
 2.14053 +all stopped at once, began again, struck, clutched, and tore, and then re- 
 2.14054 +versed the spin, and all spun round another way. Suddenly they stopped 
 2.14055 +again, paused, struck out the time afresh, formed into lines the width of 
 2.14056 +the public way, and, with their heads low down and their hands high up, 
 2.14057 +swooped screaming off. No fight could have been half so terrible as this 
 2.14058 +dance. It was so emphatically a fallen sport - a something, once innocent, 
 2.14059 +delivered over to all devilry - a healthy pastime changed into a means of 
 2.14060 +angering the blood, bewildering the senses, and steeling the heart. Such 
 2.14061 +grace as was visible in it, made it the uglier, showing how warped and 
 2.14062 +perverted all things good by nature were become. The maidenly bosom 
 2.14063 +
 2.14064 +
 2.14065 +
 2.14066 +278 
 2.14067 +
 2.14068 +
 2.14069 +
 2.14070 +bared to this, the pretty almost-child's head thus distracted, the delicate 
 2.14071 +foot mincing in this slough of blood and dirt, were types of the disjointed 
 2.14072 +time. 
 2.14073 +
 2.14074 +This was the Carmagnole. As it passed, leaving Lucie frightened and 
 2.14075 +bewildered in the doorway of the wood-sawyer's house, the feathery 
 2.14076 +snow fell as quietly and lay as white and soft, as if it had never been. 
 2.14077 +
 2.14078 +"O my father!" for he stood before her when she lifted up the eyes she 
 2.14079 +had momentarily darkened with her hand; "such a cruel, bad sight." 
 2.14080 +
 2.14081 +"I know, my dear, I know. I have seen it many times. Don't be 
 2.14082 +frightened! Not one of them would harm you." 
 2.14083 +
 2.14084 +"I am not frightened for myself, my father. But when I think of my 
 2.14085 +husband, and the mercies of these people - " 
 2.14086 +
 2.14087 +"We will set him above their mercies very soon. I left him climbing to 
 2.14088 +the window, and I came to tell you. There is no one here to see. You may 
 2.14089 +kiss your hand towards that highest shelving roof." 
 2.14090 +
 2.14091 +"I do so, father, and I send him my Soul with it!" 
 2.14092 +
 2.14093 +"You cannot see him, my poor dear?" 
 2.14094 +
 2.14095 +"No, father," said Lucie, yearning and weeping as she kissed her hand, 
 2.14096 +"no." 
 2.14097 +
 2.14098 +A footstep in the snow. Madame Defarge. "I salute you, citizeness," 
 2.14099 +from the Doctor. "I salute you, citizen." This in passing. Nothing more. 
 2.14100 +Madame Defarge gone, like a shadow over the white road. 
 2.14101 +
 2.14102 +"Give me your arm, my love. Pass from here with an air of cheerful- 
 2.14103 +ness and courage, for his sake. That was well done;" they had left the 
 2.14104 +spot; "it shall not be in vain. Charles is summoned for to-morrow." 
 2.14105 +
 2.14106 +"For to-morrow!" 
 2.14107 +
 2.14108 +"There is no time to lose. I am well prepared, but there are precautions 
 2.14109 +to be taken, that could not be taken until he was actually summoned be- 
 2.14110 +fore the Tribunal. He has not received the notice yet, but I know that he 
 2.14111 +will presently be summoned for to-morrow, and removed to the Conci- 
 2.14112 +ergerie; I have timely information. You are not afraid?" 
 2.14113 +
 2.14114 +She could scarcely answer, "I trust in you." 
 2.14115 +
 2.14116 +"Do so, implicitly. Your suspense is nearly ended, my darling; he shall 
 2.14117 +be restored to you within a few hours; I have encompassed him with 
 2.14118 +every protection. I must see Lorry." 
 2.14119 +
 2.14120 +
 2.14121 +
 2.14122 +279 
 2.14123 +
 2.14124 +
 2.14125 +
 2.14126 +He stopped. There was a heavy lumbering of wheels within hearing. 
 2.14127 +They both knew too well what it meant. One. Two. Three. Three tumbrils 
 2.14128 +faring away with their dread loads over the hushing snow. 
 2.14129 +
 2.14130 +"I must see Lorry," the Doctor repeated, turning her another way. 
 2.14131 +
 2.14132 +The staunch old gentleman was still in his trust; had never left it. He 
 2.14133 +and his books were in frequent requisition as to property confiscated and 
 2.14134 +made national. What he could save for the owners, he saved. No better 
 2.14135 +man living to hold fast by what Tellson's had in keeping, and to hold his 
 2.14136 +peace. 
 2.14137 +
 2.14138 +A murky red and yellow sky, and a rising mist from the Seine, de- 
 2.14139 +noted the approach of darkness. It was almost dark when they arrived at 
 2.14140 +the Bank. The stately residence of Monseigneur was altogether blighted 
 2.14141 +and deserted. Above a heap of dust and ashes in the court, ran the let- 
 2.14142 +ters: National Property. Republic One and Indivisible. Liberty, Equality, 
 2.14143 +Fraternity, or Death! 
 2.14144 +
 2.14145 +Who could that be with Mr. Lorry - the owner of the riding-coat upon 
 2.14146 +the chair - who must not be seen? From whom newly arrived, did he 
 2.14147 +come out, agitated and surprised, to take his favourite in his arms? To 
 2.14148 +whom did he appear to repeat her faltering words, when, raising his 
 2.14149 +voice and turning his head towards the door of the room from which he 
 2.14150 +had issued, he said: "Removed to the Conciergerie, and summoned for 
 2.14151 +to-morrow?" 
 2.14152 +
 2.14153 +
 2.14154 +
 2.14155 +280 
 2.14156 +
 2.14157 +
 2.14158 +
 2.14159 +Chapter 
 2.14160 +
 2.14161 +
 2.14162 +
 2.14163 +6 
 2.14164 +
 2.14165 +
 2.14166 +
 2.14167 +Triumph 
 2.14168 +
 2.14169 +The dread tribunal of five Judges, Public Prosecutor, and determined 
 2.14170 +Jury, sat every day. Their lists went forth every evening, and were read 
 2.14171 +out by the gaolers of the various prisons to their prisoners. The standard 
 2.14172 +gaoler-joke was, "Come out and listen to the Evening Paper, you inside 
 2.14173 +there!" 
 2.14174 +
 2.14175 +"Charles Evremonde, called Darnay!" 
 2.14176 +
 2.14177 +So at last began the Evening Paper at La Force. 
 2.14178 +
 2.14179 +When a name was called, its owner stepped apart into a spot reserved 
 2.14180 +for those who were announced as being thus fatally recorded. Charles 
 2.14181 +Evremonde, called Darnay, had reason to know the usage; he had seen 
 2.14182 +hundreds pass away so. 
 2.14183 +
 2.14184 +His bloated gaoler, who wore spectacles to read with, glanced over 
 2.14185 +them to assure himself that he had taken his place, and went through the 
 2.14186 +list, making a similar short pause at each name. There were twenty-three 
 2.14187 +names, but only twenty were responded to; for one of the prisoners so 
 2.14188 +summoned had died in gaol and been forgotten, and two had already 
 2.14189 +been guillotined and forgotten. The list was read, in the vaulted chamber 
 2.14190 +where Darnay had seen the associated prisoners on the night of his ar- 
 2.14191 +rival. Every one of those had perished in the massacre; every human 
 2.14192 +creature he had since cared for and parted with, had died on the scaffold. 
 2.14193 +
 2.14194 +There were hurried words of farewell and kindness, but the parting 
 2.14195 +was soon over. It was the incident of every day, and the society of La 
 2.14196 +Force were engaged in the preparation of some games of forfeits and a 
 2.14197 +little concert, for that evening. They crowded to the grates and shed tears 
 2.14198 +there; but, twenty places in the projected entertainments had to be re- 
 2.14199 +filled, and the time was, at best, short to the lock-up hour, when the com- 
 2.14200 +mon rooms and corridors would be delivered over to the great dogs who 
 2.14201 +kept watch there through the night. The prisoners were far from insens- 
 2.14202 +ible or unfeeling; their ways arose out of the condition of the time. 
 2.14203 +
 2.14204 +
 2.14205 +
 2.14206 +281 
 2.14207 +
 2.14208 +
 2.14209 +
 2.14210 +Similarly, though with a subtle difference, a species of fervour or intoxic- 
 2.14211 +ation, known, without doubt, to have led some persons to brave the guil- 
 2.14212 +lotine unnecessarily, and to die by it, was not mere boastfulness, but a 
 2.14213 +wild infection of the wildly shaken public mind. In seasons of pestilence, 
 2.14214 +some of us will have a secret attraction to the disease - a terrible passing 
 2.14215 +inclination to die of it. And all of us have like wonders hidden in our 
 2.14216 +breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke them. 
 2.14217 +
 2.14218 +The passage to the Conciergerie was short and dark; the night in its 
 2.14219 +vermin-haunted cells was long and cold. Next day, fifteen prisoners 
 2.14220 +were put to the bar before Charles Darnay's name was called. All the fif- 
 2.14221 +teen were condemned, and the trials of the whole occupied an hour and 
 2.14222 +a half. 
 2.14223 +
 2.14224 +"Charles Evremonde, called Darnay," was at length arraigned. 
 2.14225 +
 2.14226 +His judges sat upon the Bench in feathered hats; but the rough red cap 
 2.14227 +and tricoloured cockade was the head-dress otherwise prevailing. Look- 
 2.14228 +ing at the Jury and the turbulent audience, he might have thought that 
 2.14229 +the usual order of things was reversed, and that the felons were trying 
 2.14230 +the honest men. The lowest, crudest, and worst populace of a city, never 
 2.14231 +without its quantity of low, cruel, and bad, were the directing spirits of 
 2.14232 +the scene: noisily commenting, applauding, disapproving, anticipating, 
 2.14233 +and precipitating the result, without a check. Of the men, the greater part 
 2.14234 +were armed in various ways; of the women, some wore knives, some 
 2.14235 +daggers, some ate and drank as they looked on, many knitted. Among 
 2.14236 +these last, was one, with a spare piece of knitting under her arm as she 
 2.14237 +worked. She was in a front row, by the side of a man whom he had never 
 2.14238 +seen since his arrival at the Barrier, but whom he directly remembered as 
 2.14239 +Defarge. He noticed that she once or twice whispered in his ear, and that 
 2.14240 +she seemed to be his wife; but, what he most noticed in the two figures 
 2.14241 +was, that although they were posted as close to himself as they could be, 
 2.14242 +they never looked towards him. They seemed to be waiting for 
 2.14243 +something with a dogged determination, and they looked at the Jury, but 
 2.14244 +at nothing else. Under the President sat Doctor Manette, in his usual 
 2.14245 +quiet dress. As well as the prisoner could see, he and Mr. Lorry were the 
 2.14246 +only men there, unconnected with the Tribunal, who wore their usual 
 2.14247 +clothes, and had not assumed the coarse garb of the Carmagnole. 
 2.14248 +
 2.14249 +Charles Evremonde, called Darnay, was accused by the public prosec- 
 2.14250 +utor as an emigrant, whose life was forfeit to the Republic, under the de- 
 2.14251 +cree which banished all emigrants on pain of Death. It was nothing that 
 2.14252 +the decree bore date since his return to France. There he was, and there 
 2.14253 +
 2.14254 +
 2.14255 +
 2.14256 +282 
 2.14257 +
 2.14258 +
 2.14259 +
 2.14260 +was the decree; he had been taken in France, and his head was 
 2.14261 +demanded. 
 2.14262 +
 2.14263 +"Take off his head!" cried the audience. "An enemy to the Republic!" 
 2.14264 +
 2.14265 +The President rang his bell to silence those cries, and asked the prison- 
 2.14266 +er whether it was not true that he had lived many years in England? 
 2.14267 +
 2.14268 +Undoubtedly it was. 
 2.14269 +
 2.14270 +Was he not an emigrant then? What did he call himself? 
 2.14271 +
 2.14272 +Not an emigrant, he hoped, within the sense and spirit of the law. 
 2.14273 +
 2.14274 +Why not? the President desired to know. 
 2.14275 +
 2.14276 +Because he had voluntarily relinquished a title that was distasteful to 
 2.14277 +him, and a station that was distasteful to him, and had left his coun- 
 2.14278 +try - he submitted before the word emigrant in the present acceptation 
 2.14279 +by the Tribunal was in use - to live by his own industry in England, 
 2.14280 +rather than on the industry of the overladen people of France. 
 2.14281 +
 2.14282 +What proof had he of this? 
 2.14283 +
 2.14284 +He handed in the names of two witnesses; Theophile Gabelle, and Al- 
 2.14285 +exandre Manette. 
 2.14286 +
 2.14287 +But he had married in England? the President reminded him. 
 2.14288 +
 2.14289 +True, but not an English woman. 
 2.14290 +
 2.14291 +A citizeness of France? 
 2.14292 +
 2.14293 +Yes. By birth. 
 2.14294 +
 2.14295 +Her name and family? 
 2.14296 +
 2.14297 +"Lucie Manette, only daughter of Doctor Manette, the good physician 
 2.14298 +who sits there." 
 2.14299 +
 2.14300 +This answer had a happy effect upon the audience. Cries in exaltation 
 2.14301 +of the well-known good physician rent the hall. So capriciously were the 
 2.14302 +people moved, that tears immediately rolled down several ferocious 
 2.14303 +countenances which had been glaring at the prisoner a moment before, 
 2.14304 +as if with impatience to pluck him out into the streets and kill him. 
 2.14305 +
 2.14306 +On these few steps of his dangerous way, Charles Darnay had set his 
 2.14307 +foot according to Doctor Manette's reiterated instructions. The same cau- 
 2.14308 +tious counsel directed every step that lay before him, and had prepared 
 2.14309 +every inch of his road. 
 2.14310 +
 2.14311 +The President asked, why had he returned to France when he did, and 
 2.14312 +not sooner? 
 2.14313 +
 2.14314 +
 2.14315 +
 2.14316 +283 
 2.14317 +
 2.14318 +
 2.14319 +
 2.14320 +He had not returned sooner, he replied, simply because he had no 
 2.14321 +means of living in France, save those he had resigned; whereas, in Eng- 
 2.14322 +land, he lived by giving instruction in the French language and literat- 
 2.14323 +ure. He had returned when he did, on the pressing and written entreaty 
 2.14324 +of a French citizen, who represented that his life was endangered by his 
 2.14325 +absence. He had come back, to save a citizen's life, and to bear his testi- 
 2.14326 +mony, at whatever personal hazard, to the truth. Was that criminal in the 
 2.14327 +eyes of the Republic? 
 2.14328 +
 2.14329 +The populace cried enthusiastically, "No!" and the President rang his 
 2.14330 +bell to quiet them. Which it did not, for they continued to cry "No!" until 
 2.14331 +they left off, of their own will. 
 2.14332 +
 2.14333 +The President required the name of that citizen. The accused explained 
 2.14334 +that the citizen was his first witness. He also referred with confidence to 
 2.14335 +the citizen's letter, which had been taken from him at the Barrier, but 
 2.14336 +which he did not doubt would be found among the papers then before 
 2.14337 +the President. 
 2.14338 +
 2.14339 +The Doctor had taken care that it should be there - had assured him 
 2.14340 +that it would be there - and at this stage of the proceedings it was pro- 
 2.14341 +duced and read. Citizen Gabelle was called to confirm it, and did so. Cit- 
 2.14342 +izen Gabelle hinted, with infinite delicacy and politeness, that in the 
 2.14343 +pressure of business imposed on the Tribunal by the multitude of en- 
 2.14344 +emies of the Republic with which it had to deal, he had been slightly 
 2.14345 +overlooked in his prison of the Abbaye - in fact, had rather passed out of 
 2.14346 +the Tribunal's patriotic remembrance - until three days ago; when he 
 2.14347 +had been summoned before it, and had been set at liberty on the Jury's 
 2.14348 +declaring themselves satisfied that the accusation against him was 
 2.14349 +answered, as to himself, by the surrender of the citizen Evremonde, 
 2.14350 +called Darnay. 
 2.14351 +
 2.14352 +Doctor Manette was next questioned. His high personal popularity, 
 2.14353 +and the clearness of his answers, made a great impression; but, as he 
 2.14354 +proceeded, as he showed that the Accused was his first friend on his re- 
 2.14355 +lease from his long imprisonment; that, the accused had remained in 
 2.14356 +England, always faithful and devoted to his daughter and himself in 
 2.14357 +their exile; that, so far from being in favour with the Aristocrat govern- 
 2.14358 +ment there, he had actually been tried for his life by it, as the foe of Eng- 
 2.14359 +land and friend of the United States - as he brought these circumstances 
 2.14360 +into view, with the greatest discretion and with the straightforward force 
 2.14361 +of truth and earnestness, the Jury and the populace became one. At last, 
 2.14362 +when he appealed by name to Monsieur Lorry, an English gentleman 
 2.14363 +
 2.14364 +
 2.14365 +
 2.14366 +284 
 2.14367 +
 2.14368 +
 2.14369 +
 2.14370 +then and there present, who, like himself, had been a witness on that 
 2.14371 +English trial and could corroborate his account of it, the Jury declared 
 2.14372 +that they had heard enough, and that they were ready with their votes if 
 2.14373 +the President were content to receive them. 
 2.14374 +
 2.14375 +At every vote (the Jurymen voted aloud and individually), the popu- 
 2.14376 +lace set up a shout of applause. All the voices were in the prisoner's fa- 
 2.14377 +vour, and the President declared him free. 
 2.14378 +
 2.14379 +Then, began one of those extraordinary scenes with which the popu- 
 2.14380 +lace sometimes gratified their fickleness, or their better impulses towards 
 2.14381 +generosity and mercy, or which they regarded as some set-off against 
 2.14382 +their swollen account of cruel rage. No man can decide now to which of 
 2.14383 +these motives such extraordinary scenes were referable; it is probable, to 
 2.14384 +a blending of all the three, with the second predominating. No sooner 
 2.14385 +was the acquittal pronounced, than tears were shed as freely as blood at 
 2.14386 +another time, and such fraternal embraces were bestowed upon the pris- 
 2.14387 +oner by as many of both sexes as could rush at him, that after his long 
 2.14388 +and unwholesome confinement he was in danger of fainting from ex- 
 2.14389 +haustion; none the less because he knew very well, that the very same 
 2.14390 +people, carried by another current, would have rushed at him with the 
 2.14391 +very same intensity, to rend him to pieces and strew him over the streets. 
 2.14392 +
 2.14393 +His removal, to make way for other accused persons who were to be 
 2.14394 +tried, rescued him from these caresses for the moment. Five were to be 
 2.14395 +tried together, next, as enemies of the Republic, forasmuch as they had 
 2.14396 +not assisted it by word or deed. So quick was the Tribunal to compensate 
 2.14397 +itself and the nation for a chance lost, that these five came down to him 
 2.14398 +before he left the place, condemned to die within twenty-four hours. The 
 2.14399 +first of them told him so, with the customary prison sign of Death - a 
 2.14400 +raised finger - and they all added in words, "Long live the Republic!" 
 2.14401 +
 2.14402 +The five had had, it is true, no audience to lengthen their proceedings, 
 2.14403 +for when he and Doctor Manette emerged from the gate, there was a 
 2.14404 +great crowd about it, in which there seemed to be every face he had seen 
 2.14405 +in Court - except two, for which he looked in vain. On his coming out, 
 2.14406 +the concourse made at him anew, weeping, embracing, and shouting, all 
 2.14407 +by turns and all together, until the very tide of the river on the bank of 
 2.14408 +which the mad scene was acted, seemed to run mad, like the people on 
 2.14409 +the shore. 
 2.14410 +
 2.14411 +They put him into a great chair they had among them, and which they 
 2.14412 +had taken either out of the Court itself, or one of its rooms or passages. 
 2.14413 +Over the chair they had thrown a red flag, and to the back of it they had 
 2.14414 +
 2.14415 +
 2.14416 +
 2.14417 +285 
 2.14418 +
 2.14419 +
 2.14420 +
 2.14421 +bound a pike with a red cap on its top. In this car of triumph, not even 
 2.14422 +the Doctor's entreaties could prevent his being carried to his home on 
 2.14423 +men's shoulders, with a confused sea of red caps heaving about him, and 
 2.14424 +casting up to sight from the stormy deep such wrecks of faces, that he 
 2.14425 +more than once misdoubted his mind being in confusion, and that he 
 2.14426 +was in the tumbril on his way to the Guillotine. 
 2.14427 +
 2.14428 +In wild dreamlike procession, embracing whom they met and pointing 
 2.14429 +him out, they carried him on. Reddening the snowy streets with the pre- 
 2.14430 +vailing Republican colour, in winding and tramping through them, as 
 2.14431 +they had reddened them below the snow with a deeper dye, they carried 
 2.14432 +him thus into the courtyard of the building where he lived. Her father 
 2.14433 +had gone on before, to prepare her, and when her husband stood upon 
 2.14434 +his feet, she dropped insensible in his arms. 
 2.14435 +
 2.14436 +As he held her to his heart and turned her beautiful head between his 
 2.14437 +face and the brawling crowd, so that his tears and her lips might come 
 2.14438 +together unseen, a few of the people fell to dancing. Instantly, all the rest 
 2.14439 +fell to dancing, and the courtyard overflowed with the Carmagnole. 
 2.14440 +Then, they elevated into the vacant chair a young woman from the 
 2.14441 +crowd to be carried as the Goddess of Liberty, and then swelling and 
 2.14442 +overflowing out into the adjacent streets, and along the river's bank, and 
 2.14443 +over the bridge, the Carmagnole absorbed them every one and whirled 
 2.14444 +them away. 
 2.14445 +
 2.14446 +After grasping the Doctor's hand, as he stood victorious and proud be- 
 2.14447 +fore him; after grasping the hand of Mr. Lorry, who came panting in 
 2.14448 +breathless from his struggle against the waterspout of the Carmagnole; 
 2.14449 +after kissing little Lucie, who was lifted up to clasp her arms round his 
 2.14450 +neck; and after embracing the ever zealous and faithful Pross who lifted 
 2.14451 +her; he took his wife in his arms, and carried her up to their rooms. 
 2.14452 +
 2.14453 +"Lucie! My own! I am safe." 
 2.14454 +
 2.14455 +"O dearest Charles, let me thank God for this on my knees as I have 
 2.14456 +prayed to Him." 
 2.14457 +
 2.14458 +They all reverently bowed their heads and hearts. When she was again 
 2.14459 +in his arms, he said to her: 
 2.14460 +
 2.14461 +"And now speak to your father, dearest. No other man in all this 
 2.14462 +France could have done what he has done for me." 
 2.14463 +
 2.14464 +She laid her head upon her father's breast, as she had laid his poor 
 2.14465 +head on her own breast, long, long ago. He was happy in the return he 
 2.14466 +had made her, he was recompensed for his suffering, he was proud of 
 2.14467 +
 2.14468 +
 2.14469 +
 2.14470 +286 
 2.14471 +
 2.14472 +
 2.14473 +
 2.14474 +his strength. "You must not be weak, my darling," he remonstrated; 
 2.14475 +"don't tremble so. I have saved him." 
 2.14476 +
 2.14477 +
 2.14478 +
 2.14479 +287 
 2.14480 +
 2.14481 +
 2.14482 +
 2.14483 +Chapter 
 2.14484 +
 2.14485 +
 2.14486 +
 2.14487 +7 
 2.14488 +
 2.14489 +
 2.14490 +
 2.14491 +A Knock at the Door 
 2.14492 +
 2.14493 +"I have saved him." It was not another of the dreams in which he had 
 2.14494 +often come back; he was really here. And yet his wife trembled, and a 
 2.14495 +vague but heavy fear was upon her. 
 2.14496 +
 2.14497 +All the air round was so thick and dark, the people were so passion- 
 2.14498 +ately revengeful and fitful, the innocent were so constantly put to death 
 2.14499 +on vague suspicion and black malice, it was so impossible to forget that 
 2.14500 +many as blameless as her husband and as dear to others as he was to her, 
 2.14501 +every day shared the fate from which he had been clutched, that her 
 2.14502 +heart could not be as lightened of its load as she felt it ought to be. The 
 2.14503 +shadows of the wintry afternoon were beginning to fall, and even now 
 2.14504 +the dreadful carts were rolling through the streets. Her mind pursued 
 2.14505 +them, looking for him among the Condemned; and then she clung closer 
 2.14506 +to his real presence and trembled more. 
 2.14507 +
 2.14508 +Her father, cheering her, showed a compassionate superiority to this 
 2.14509 +woman's weakness, which was wonderful to see. No garret, no shoemak- 
 2.14510 +ing, no One Hundred and Five, North Tower, now! He had accom- 
 2.14511 +plished the task he had set himself, his promise was redeemed, he had 
 2.14512 +saved Charles. Let them all lean upon him. 
 2.14513 +
 2.14514 +Their housekeeping was of a very frugal kind: not only because that 
 2.14515 +was the safest way of life, involving the least offence to the people, but 
 2.14516 +because they were not rich, and Charles, throughout his imprisonment, 
 2.14517 +had had to pay heavily for his bad food, and for his guard, and towards 
 2.14518 +the living of the poorer prisoners. Partly on this account, and partly to 
 2.14519 +avoid a domestic spy, they kept no servant; the citizen and citizeness 
 2.14520 +who acted as porters at the courtyard gate, rendered them occasional ser- 
 2.14521 +vice; and Jerry (almost wholly transferred to them by Mr. Lorry) had be- 
 2.14522 +come their daily retainer, and had his bed there every night. 
 2.14523 +
 2.14524 +It was an ordinance of the Republic One and Indivisible of Liberty, 
 2.14525 +Equality, Fraternity, or Death, that on the door or doorpost of every 
 2.14526 +
 2.14527 +
 2.14528 +
 2.14529 +288 
 2.14530 +
 2.14531 +
 2.14532 +
 2.14533 +house, the name of every inmate must be legibly inscribed in letters of a 
 2.14534 +certain size, at a certain convenient height from the ground. Mr. Jerry 
 2.14535 +Cruncher's name, therefore, duly embellished the doorpost down below; 
 2.14536 +and, as the afternoon shadows deepened, the owner of that name himself 
 2.14537 +appeared, from overlooking a painter whom Doctor Manette had em- 
 2.14538 +ployed to add to the list the name of Charles Evremonde, called Darnay. 
 2.14539 +
 2.14540 +In the universal fear and distrust that darkened the time, all the usual 
 2.14541 +harmless ways of life were changed. In the Doctor's little household, as 
 2.14542 +in very many others, the articles of daily consumption that were wanted 
 2.14543 +were purchased every evening, in small quantities and at various small 
 2.14544 +shops. To avoid attracting notice, and to give as little occasion as possible 
 2.14545 +for talk and envy, was the general desire. 
 2.14546 +
 2.14547 +For some months past, Miss Pross and Mr. Cruncher had discharged 
 2.14548 +the office of purveyors; the former carrying the money; the latter, the 
 2.14549 +basket. Every afternoon at about the time when the public lamps were 
 2.14550 +lighted, they fared forth on this duty, and made and brought home such 
 2.14551 +purchases as were needful. Although Miss Pross, through her long asso- 
 2.14552 +ciation with a French family, might have known as much of their lan- 
 2.14553 +guage as of her own, if she had had a mind, she had no mind in that dir- 
 2.14554 +ection; consequently she knew no more of that "nonsense" (as she was 
 2.14555 +pleased to call it) than Mr. Cruncher did. So her manner of marketing 
 2.14556 +was to plump a noun-substantive at the head of a shopkeeper without 
 2.14557 +any introduction in the nature of an article, and, if it happened not to be 
 2.14558 +the name of the thing she wanted, to look round for that thing, lay hold 
 2.14559 +of it, and hold on by it until the bargain was concluded. She always 
 2.14560 +made a bargain for it, by holding up, as a statement of its just price, one 
 2.14561 +finger less than the merchant held up, whatever his number might be. 
 2.14562 +
 2.14563 +"Now, Mr. Cruncher," said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with feli- 
 2.14564 +city; "if you are ready, I am." 
 2.14565 +
 2.14566 +Jerry hoarsely professed himself at Miss Pross's service. He had worn 
 2.14567 +all his rust off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky head down. 
 2.14568 +
 2.14569 +"There's all manner of things wanted," said Miss Pross, "and we shall 
 2.14570 +have a precious time of it. We want wine, among the rest. Nice toasts 
 2.14571 +these Redheads will be drinking, wherever we buy it." 
 2.14572 +
 2.14573 +"It will be much the same to your knowledge, miss, I should think," re- 
 2.14574 +torted Jerry, "whether they drink your health or the Old Un's." 
 2.14575 +
 2.14576 +"Who's he?" said Miss Pross. 
 2.14577 +
 2.14578 +
 2.14579 +
 2.14580 +289 
 2.14581 +
 2.14582 +
 2.14583 +
 2.14584 +Mr. Cruncher, with some diffidence, explained himself as meaning 
 2.14585 +"Old Nick's." 
 2.14586 +
 2.14587 +"Ha!" said Miss Pross, "it doesn't need an interpreter to explain the 
 2.14588 +meaning of these creatures. They have but one, and it's Midnight 
 2.14589 +Murder, and Mischief." 
 2.14590 +
 2.14591 +"Hush, dear! Pray, pray, be cautious!" cried Lucie. 
 2.14592 +
 2.14593 +"Yes, yes, yes, I'll be cautious," said Miss Pross; "but I may say among 
 2.14594 +ourselves, that I do hope there will be no oniony and tobaccoey smother- 
 2.14595 +ings in the form of embracings all round, going on in the streets. Now, 
 2.14596 +Ladybird, never you stir from that fire till I come back! Take care of the 
 2.14597 +dear husband you have recovered, and don't move your pretty head 
 2.14598 +from his shoulder as you have it now, till you see me again! May I ask a 
 2.14599 +question, Doctor Manette, before I go?" 
 2.14600 +
 2.14601 +"I think you may take that liberty," the Doctor answered, smiling. 
 2.14602 +
 2.14603 +"For gracious sake, don't talk about Liberty; we have quite enough of 
 2.14604 +that," said Miss Pross. 
 2.14605 +
 2.14606 +"Hush, dear! Again?" Lucie remonstrated. 
 2.14607 +
 2.14608 +"Well, my sweet," said Miss Pross, nodding her head emphatically, 
 2.14609 +"the short and the long of it is, that I am a subject of His Most Gracious 
 2.14610 +Majesty King George the Third;" Miss Pross curtseyed at the name; "and 
 2.14611 +as such, my maxim is, Confound their politics, Frustrate their knavish 
 2.14612 +tricks, On him our hopes we fix, God save the King!" 
 2.14613 +
 2.14614 +Mr. Cruncher, in an access of loyalty, growlingly repeated the words 
 2.14615 +after Miss Pross, like somebody at church. 
 2.14616 +
 2.14617 +"I am glad you have so much of the Englishman in you, though I wish 
 2.14618 +you had never taken that cold in your voice," said Miss Pross, approv- 
 2.14619 +ingly. "But the question, Doctor Manette. Is there" - it was the good 
 2.14620 +creature's way to affect to make light of anything that was a great anxiety 
 2.14621 +with them all, and to come at it in this chance manner - "is there any pro- 
 2.14622 +spect yet, of our getting out of this place?" 
 2.14623 +
 2.14624 +"I fear not yet. It would be dangerous for Charles yet." 
 2.14625 +
 2.14626 +"Heigh-ho-hum!" said Miss Pross, cheerfully repressing a sigh as she 
 2.14627 +glanced at her darling's golden hair in the light of the fire, "then we must 
 2.14628 +have patience and wait: that's all. We must hold up our heads and fight 
 2.14629 +low, as my brother Solomon used to say. Now, Mr. Cruncher! - Don't 
 2.14630 +you move, Ladybird!" 
 2.14631 +
 2.14632 +
 2.14633 +
 2.14634 +290 
 2.14635 +
 2.14636 +
 2.14637 +
 2.14638 +They went out, leaving Lucie, and her husband, her father, and the 
 2.14639 +child, by a bright fire. Mr. Lorry was expected back presently from the 
 2.14640 +Banking House. Miss Pross had lighted the lamp, but had put it aside in 
 2.14641 +a corner, that they might enjoy the fire-light undisturbed. Little Lucie sat 
 2.14642 +by her grandfather with her hands clasped through his arm: and he, in a 
 2.14643 +tone not rising much above a whisper, began to tell her a story of a great 
 2.14644 +and powerful Fairy who had opened a prison-wall and let out a captive 
 2.14645 +who had once done the Fairy a service. All was subdued and quiet, and 
 2.14646 +Lucie was more at ease than she had been. 
 2.14647 +
 2.14648 +"What is that?" she cried, all at once. 
 2.14649 +
 2.14650 +"My dear!" said her father, stopping in his story, and laying his hand 
 2.14651 +on hers, "command yourself. What a disordered state you are in! The 
 2.14652 +least thing - nothing - startles you! You, your father's daughter!" 
 2.14653 +
 2.14654 +"I thought, my father," said Lucie, excusing herself, with a pale face 
 2.14655 +and in a faltering voice, "that I heard strange feet upon the stairs." 
 2.14656 +
 2.14657 +"My love, the staircase is as still as Death." 
 2.14658 +
 2.14659 +As he said the word, a blow was struck upon the door. 
 2.14660 +
 2.14661 +"Oh father, father. What can this be! Hide Charles. Save him!" 
 2.14662 +
 2.14663 +"My child," said the Doctor, rising, and laying his hand upon her 
 2.14664 +shoulder, "I have saved him. What weakness is this, my dear! Let me go 
 2.14665 +to the door." 
 2.14666 +
 2.14667 +He took the lamp in his hand, crossed the two intervening outer 
 2.14668 +rooms, and opened it. A rude clattering of feet over the floor, and four 
 2.14669 +rough men in red caps, armed with sabres and pistols, entered the room. 
 2.14670 +
 2.14671 +"The Citizen Evremonde, called Darnay," said the first. 
 2.14672 +
 2.14673 +"Who seeks him?" answered Darnay. 
 2.14674 +
 2.14675 +"I seek him. We seek him. I know you, Evremonde; I saw you before 
 2.14676 +the Tribunal to-day. You are again the prisoner of the Republic." 
 2.14677 +
 2.14678 +The four surrounded him, where he stood with his wife and child 
 2.14679 +clinging to him. 
 2.14680 +
 2.14681 +"Tell me how and why am I again a prisoner?" 
 2.14682 +
 2.14683 +"It is enough that you return straight to the Conciergerie, and will 
 2.14684 +know to-morrow. You are summoned for to-morrow." 
 2.14685 +
 2.14686 +Doctor Manette, whom this visitation had so turned into stone, that be 
 2.14687 +stood with the lamp in his hand, as if be woe a statue made to hold it, 
 2.14688 +moved after these words were spoken, put the lamp down, and 
 2.14689 +
 2.14690 +
 2.14691 +
 2.14692 +291 
 2.14693 +
 2.14694 +
 2.14695 +
 2.14696 +confronting the speaker, and taking him, not ungently, by the loose front 
 2.14697 +of his red woollen shirt, said: 
 2.14698 +
 2.14699 +"You know him, you have said. Do you know me?" 
 2.14700 +
 2.14701 +"Yes, I know you, Citizen Doctor." 
 2.14702 +
 2.14703 +"We all know you, Citizen Doctor," said the other three. 
 2.14704 +
 2.14705 +He looked abstractedly from one to another, and said, in a lower voice, 
 2.14706 +after a pause: 
 2.14707 +
 2.14708 +"Will you answer his question to me then? How does this happen?" 
 2.14709 +
 2.14710 +"Citizen Doctor," said the first, reluctantly, "he has been denounced to 
 2.14711 +the Section of Saint Antoine. This citizen," pointing out the second who 
 2.14712 +had entered, "is from Saint Antoine." 
 2.14713 +
 2.14714 +The citizen here indicated nodded his head, and added: 
 2.14715 +
 2.14716 +"He is accused by Saint Antoine." 
 2.14717 +
 2.14718 +"Of what?" asked the Doctor. 
 2.14719 +
 2.14720 +"Citizen Doctor," said the first, with his former reluctance, "ask no 
 2.14721 +more. If the Republic demands sacrifices from you, without doubt you as 
 2.14722 +a good patriot will be happy to make them. The Republic goes before all. 
 2.14723 +The People is supreme. Evremonde, we are pressed." 
 2.14724 +
 2.14725 +"One word," the Doctor entreated. "Will you tell me who denounced 
 2.14726 +him?" 
 2.14727 +
 2.14728 +"It is against rule," answered the first; "but you can ask Him of Saint 
 2.14729 +Antoine here." 
 2.14730 +
 2.14731 +The Doctor turned his eyes upon that man. Who moved uneasily on 
 2.14732 +his feet, rubbed his beard a little, and at length said: 
 2.14733 +
 2.14734 +"Well! Truly it is against rule. But he is denounced - and gravely - by 
 2.14735 +the Citizen and Citizeness Defarge. And by one other." 
 2.14736 +
 2.14737 +"What other?" 
 2.14738 +
 2.14739 +"Do you ask, Citizen Doctor?" 
 2.14740 +
 2.14741 +"Yes." 
 2.14742 +
 2.14743 +"Then," said he of Saint Antoine, with a strange look, "you will be 
 2.14744 +answered to-morrow. Now, I am dumb!" 
 2.14745 +
 2.14746 +
 2.14747 +
 2.14748 +292 
 2.14749 +
 2.14750 +
 2.14751 +
 2.14752 +Chapter 
 2.14753 +
 2.14754 +
 2.14755 +
 2.14756 +8 
 2.14757 +
 2.14758 +
 2.14759 +
 2.14760 +A Hand at Cards 
 2.14761 +
 2.14762 +Happily unconscious of the new calamity at home, Miss Pross 
 2.14763 +threaded her way along the narrow streets and crossed the river by the 
 2.14764 +bridge of the Pont-Neuf, reckoning in her mind the number of indispens- 
 2.14765 +able purchases she had to make. Mr. Cruncher, with the basket, walked 
 2.14766 +at her side. They both looked to the right and to the left into most of the 
 2.14767 +shops they passed, had a wary eye for all gregarious assemblages of 
 2.14768 +people, and turned out of their road to avoid any very excited group of 
 2.14769 +talkers. It was a raw evening, and the misty river, blurred to the eye with 
 2.14770 +blazing lights and to the ear with harsh noises, showed where the barges 
 2.14771 +were stationed in which the smiths worked, making guns for the Army 
 2.14772 +of the Republic. Woe to the man who played tricks with that Army, or 
 2.14773 +got undeserved promotion in it! Better for him that his beard had never 
 2.14774 +grown, for the National Razor shaved him close. 
 2.14775 +
 2.14776 +Having purchased a few small articles of grocery, and a measure of oil 
 2.14777 +for the lamp, Miss Pross bethought herself of the wine they wanted. 
 2.14778 +After peeping into several wine-shops, she stopped at the sign of the 
 2.14779 +Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity, not far from the National Palace, 
 2.14780 +once (and twice) the Tuileries, where the aspect of things rather took her 
 2.14781 +fancy. It had a quieter look than any other place of the same description 
 2.14782 +they had passed, and, though red with patriotic caps, was not so red as 
 2.14783 +the rest. Sounding Mr. Cruncher, and finding him of her opinion, Miss 
 2.14784 +Pross resorted to the Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity, attended by 
 2.14785 +her cavalier. 
 2.14786 +
 2.14787 +Slightly observant of the smoky lights; of the people, pipe in mouth, 
 2.14788 +playing with limp cards and yellow dominoes; of the one bare-breasted, 
 2.14789 +bare-armed, soot-begrimed workman reading a journal aloud, and of the 
 2.14790 +others listening to him; of the weapons worn, or laid aside to be re- 
 2.14791 +sumed; of the two or three customers fallen forward asleep, who in the 
 2.14792 +popular high-shouldered shaggy black spencer looked, in that attitude, 
 2.14793 +
 2.14794 +
 2.14795 +
 2.14796 +293 
 2.14797 +
 2.14798 +
 2.14799 +
 2.14800 +like slumbering bears or dogs; the two outlandish customers approached 
 2.14801 +the counter, and showed what they wanted. 
 2.14802 +
 2.14803 +As their wine was measuring out, a man parted from another man in a 
 2.14804 +corner, and rose to depart. In going, he had to face Miss Pross. No sooner 
 2.14805 +did he face her, than Miss Pross uttered a scream, and clapped her 
 2.14806 +hands. 
 2.14807 +
 2.14808 +In a moment, the whole company were on their feet. That somebody 
 2.14809 +was assassinated by somebody vindicating a difference of opinion was 
 2.14810 +the likeliest occurrence. Everybody looked to see somebody fall, but only 
 2.14811 +saw a man and a woman standing staring at each other; the man with all 
 2.14812 +the outward aspect of a Frenchman and a thorough Republican; the wo- 
 2.14813 +man, evidently English. 
 2.14814 +
 2.14815 +What was said in this disappointing anti-climax, by the disciples of the 
 2.14816 +Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity, except that it was something very 
 2.14817 +voluble and loud, would have been as so much Hebrew or Chaldean to 
 2.14818 +Miss Pross and her protector, though they had been all ears. But, they 
 2.14819 +had no ears for anything in their surprise. For, it must be recorded, that 
 2.14820 +not only was Miss Pross lost in amazement and agitation, but, Mr. 
 2.14821 +Cruncher - though it seemed on his own separate and individual ac- 
 2.14822 +count - was in a state of the greatest wonder. 
 2.14823 +
 2.14824 +"What is the matter?" said the man who had caused Miss Pross to 
 2.14825 +scream; speaking in a vexed, abrupt voice (though in a low tone), and in 
 2.14826 +English. 
 2.14827 +
 2.14828 +"Oh, Solomon, dear Solomon!" cried Miss Pross, clapping her hands 
 2.14829 +again. "After not setting eyes upon you or hearing of you for so long a 
 2.14830 +time, do I find you here!" 
 2.14831 +
 2.14832 +"Don't call me Solomon. Do you want to be the death of me?" asked 
 2.14833 +the man, in a furtive, frightened way. 
 2.14834 +
 2.14835 +"Brother, brother!" cried Miss Pross, bursting into tears. "Have I ever 
 2.14836 +been so hard with you that you ask me such a cruel question?" 
 2.14837 +
 2.14838 +"Then hold your meddlesome tongue," said Solomon, "and come out, 
 2.14839 +if you want to speak to me. Pay for your wine, and come out. Who's this 
 2.14840 +man?" 
 2.14841 +
 2.14842 +Miss Pross, shaking her loving and dejected head at her by no means 
 2.14843 +affectionate brother, said through her tears, "Mr. Cruncher." 
 2.14844 +
 2.14845 +"Let him come out too," said Solomon. "Does he think me a ghost?" 
 2.14846 +
 2.14847 +Apparently, Mr. Cruncher did, to judge from his looks. He said not a 
 2.14848 +word, however, and Miss Pross, exploring the depths of her reticule 
 2.14849 +
 2.14850 +
 2.14851 +
 2.14852 +294 
 2.14853 +
 2.14854 +
 2.14855 +
 2.14856 +through her tears with great difficulty paid for her wine. As she did so, 
 2.14857 +Solomon turned to the followers of the Good Republican Brutus of 
 2.14858 +Antiquity, and offered a few words of explanation in the French lan- 
 2.14859 +guage, which caused them all to relapse into their former places and 
 2.14860 +pursuits. 
 2.14861 +
 2.14862 +"Now," said Solomon, stopping at the dark street corner, "what do you 
 2.14863 +want?" 
 2.14864 +
 2.14865 +"How dreadfully unkind in a brother nothing has ever turned my love 
 2.14866 +away from!" cried Miss Pross, "to give me such a greeting, and show me 
 2.14867 +no affection." 
 2.14868 +
 2.14869 +"There. Confound it! There," said Solomon, making a dab at Miss 
 2.14870 +Pross's lips with his own. "Now are you content?" 
 2.14871 +
 2.14872 +Miss Pross only shook her head and wept in silence. 
 2.14873 +
 2.14874 +"If you expect me to be surprised," said her brother Solomon, "I am not 
 2.14875 +surprised; I knew you were here; I know of most people who are here. If 
 2.14876 +you really don't want to endanger my existence - which I half believe 
 2.14877 +you do - go your ways as soon as possible, and let me go mine. I am 
 2.14878 +busy. I am an official." 
 2.14879 +
 2.14880 +"My English brother Solomon," mourned Miss Pross, casting up her 
 2.14881 +tear-fraught eyes, "that had the makings in him of one of the best and 
 2.14882 +greatest of men in his native country, an official among foreigners, and 
 2.14883 +such foreigners! I would almost sooner have seen the dear boy lying in 
 2.14884 +his-" 
 2.14885 +
 2.14886 +"I said so!" cried her brother, interrupting. "I knew it. You want to be 
 2.14887 +the death of me. I shall be rendered Suspected, by my own sister. Just as 
 2.14888 +I am getting on!" 
 2.14889 +
 2.14890 +"The gracious and merciful Heavens forbid!" cried Miss Pross. "Far 
 2.14891 +rather would I never see you again, dear Solomon, though I have ever 
 2.14892 +loved you truly, and ever shall. Say but one affectionate word to me, and 
 2.14893 +tell me there is nothing angry or estranged between us, and I will detain 
 2.14894 +you no longer." 
 2.14895 +
 2.14896 +Good Miss Pross! As if the estrangement between them had come of 
 2.14897 +any culpability of hers. As if Mr. Lorry had not known it for a fact, years 
 2.14898 +ago, in the quiet corner in Soho, that this precious brother had spent her 
 2.14899 +money and left her! 
 2.14900 +
 2.14901 +He was saying the affectionate word, however, with a far more 
 2.14902 +grudging condescension and patronage than he could have shown if 
 2.14903 +their relative merits and positions had been reversed (which is invariably 
 2.14904 +
 2.14905 +
 2.14906 +
 2.14907 +295 
 2.14908 +
 2.14909 +
 2.14910 +
 2.14911 +the case, all the world over), when Mr. Cruncher, touching him on the 
 2.14912 +shoulder, hoarsely and unexpectedly interposed with the following sin- 
 2.14913 +gular question: 
 2.14914 +
 2.14915 +"I say! Might I ask the favour? As to whether your name is John So- 
 2.14916 +lomon, or Solomon John?" 
 2.14917 +
 2.14918 +The official turned towards him with sudden distrust. He had not pre- 
 2.14919 +viously uttered a word. 
 2.14920 +
 2.14921 +"Come!" said Mr. Cruncher. "Speak out, you know." (Which, by the 
 2.14922 +way, was more than he could do himself.) "John Solomon, or Solomon 
 2.14923 +John? She calls you Solomon, and she must know, being your sister. And 
 2.14924 +I know you're John, you know. Which of the two goes first? And regard- 
 2.14925 +ing that name of Pross, likewise. That warn't your name over the water." 
 2.14926 +
 2.14927 +"What do you mean?" 
 2.14928 +
 2.14929 +"Well, I don't know all I mean, for I can't call to mind what your name 
 2.14930 +was, over the water." 
 2.14931 +
 2.14932 +"No?" 
 2.14933 +
 2.14934 +"No. But I'll swear it was a name of two syllables." 
 2.14935 +
 2.14936 +"Indeed?" 
 2.14937 +
 2.14938 +"Yes. T'other one's was one syllable. I know you. You was a spy - wit- 
 2.14939 +ness at the Bailey. What, in the name of the Father of Lies, own father to 
 2.14940 +yourself, was you called at that time?" 
 2.14941 +
 2.14942 +"Barsad," said another voice, striking in. 
 2.14943 +
 2.14944 +"That's the name for a thousand pound!" cried Jerry. 
 2.14945 +
 2.14946 +The speaker who struck in, was Sydney Carton. He had his hands be- 
 2.14947 +hind him under the skirts of his riding-coat, and he stood at Mr. 
 2.14948 +Cruncher's elbow as negligently as he might have stood at the Old Bailey 
 2.14949 +itself. 
 2.14950 +
 2.14951 +"Don't be alarmed, my dear Miss Pross. I arrived at Mr. Lorry's, to his 
 2.14952 +surprise, yesterday evening; we agreed that I would not present myself 
 2.14953 +elsewhere until all was well, or unless I could be useful; I present myself 
 2.14954 +here, to beg a little talk with your brother. I wish you had a better em- 
 2.14955 +ployed brother than Mr. Barsad. I wish for your sake Mr. Barsad was not 
 2.14956 +a Sheep of the Prisons." 
 2.14957 +
 2.14958 +Sheep was a cant word of the time for a spy, under the gaolers. The 
 2.14959 +spy, who was pale, turned paler, and asked him how he dared - 
 2.14960 +
 2.14961 +"I'll tell you," said Sydney. "I lighted on you, Mr. Barsad, coming out of 
 2.14962 +the prison of the Conciergerie while I was contemplating the walls, an 
 2.14963 +
 2.14964 +
 2.14965 +
 2.14966 +296 
 2.14967 +
 2.14968 +
 2.14969 +
 2.14970 +hour or more ago. You have a face to be remembered, and I remember 
 2.14971 +faces well. Made curious by seeing you in that connexion, and having a 
 2.14972 +reason, to which you are no stranger, for associating you with the misfor- 
 2.14973 +tunes of a friend now very unfortunate, I walked in your direction. I 
 2.14974 +walked into the wine-shop here, close after you, and sat near you. I had 
 2.14975 +no difficulty in deducing from your unreserved conversation, and the ru- 
 2.14976 +mour openly going about among your admirers, the nature of your call- 
 2.14977 +ing. And gradually, what I had done at random, seemed to shape itself 
 2.14978 +into a purpose, Mr. Barsad." 
 2.14979 +
 2.14980 +"What purpose?" the spy asked. 
 2.14981 +
 2.14982 +"It would be troublesome, and might be dangerous, to explain in the 
 2.14983 +street. Could you favour me, in confidence, with some minutes of your 
 2.14984 +company - at the office of Tellson's Bank, for instance?" 
 2.14985 +
 2.14986 +"Under a threat?" 
 2.14987 +
 2.14988 +"Oh! Did I say that?" 
 2.14989 +
 2.14990 +"Then, why should I go there?" 
 2.14991 +
 2.14992 +"Really, Mr. Barsad, I can't say, if you can't." 
 2.14993 +
 2.14994 +"Do you mean that you won't say, sir?" the spy irresolutely asked. 
 2.14995 +
 2.14996 +"You apprehend me very clearly, Mr. Barsad. I won't." 
 2.14997 +
 2.14998 +Carton's negligent recklessness of manner came powerfully in aid of 
 2.14999 +his quickness and skill, in such a business as he had in his secret mind, 
 2.15000 +and with such a man as he had to do with. His practised eye saw it, and 
 2.15001 +made the most of it. 
 2.15002 +
 2.15003 +"Now, I told you so," said the spy, casting a reproachful look at his sis- 
 2.15004 +ter; "if any trouble comes of this, it's your doing." 
 2.15005 +
 2.15006 +"Come, come, Mr. Barsad!" exclaimed Sydney. "Don't be ungrateful. 
 2.15007 +But for my great respect for your sister, I might not have led up so pleas- 
 2.15008 +antly to a little proposal that I wish to make for our mutual satisfaction. 
 2.15009 +Do you go with me to the Bank?" 
 2.15010 +
 2.15011 +"I'll hear what you have got to say. Yes, I'll go with you." 
 2.15012 +
 2.15013 +"I propose that we first conduct your sister safely to the corner of her 
 2.15014 +own street. Let me take your arm, Miss Pross. This is not a good city, at 
 2.15015 +this time, for you to be out in, unprotected; and as your escort knows Mr. 
 2.15016 +Barsad, I will invite him to Mr. Lorry's with us. Are we ready? Come 
 2.15017 +then!" 
 2.15018 +
 2.15019 +Miss Pross recalled soon afterwards, and to the end of her life re- 
 2.15020 +membered, that as she pressed her hands on Sydney's arm and looked 
 2.15021 +
 2.15022 +
 2.15023 +
 2.15024 +297 
 2.15025 +
 2.15026 +
 2.15027 +
 2.15028 +up in his face, imploring him to do no hurt to Solomon, there was a 
 2.15029 +braced purpose in the arm and a kind of inspiration in the eyes, which 
 2.15030 +not only contradicted his light manner, but changed and raised the man. 
 2.15031 +She was too much occupied then with fears for the brother who so little 
 2.15032 +deserved her affection, and with Sydney's friendly reassurances, ad- 
 2.15033 +equately to heed what she observed. 
 2.15034 +
 2.15035 +They left her at the corner of the street, and Carton led the way to Mr. 
 2.15036 +Lorry's, which was within a few minutes' walk. John Barsad, or Solomon 
 2.15037 +Pross, walked at his side. 
 2.15038 +
 2.15039 +Mr. Lorry had just finished his dinner, and was sitting before a cheery 
 2.15040 +little log or two of fire - perhaps looking into their blaze for the picture 
 2.15041 +of that younger elderly gentleman from Tellson's, who had looked into 
 2.15042 +the red coals at the Royal George at Dover, now a good many years ago. 
 2.15043 +He turned his head as they entered, and showed the surprise with which 
 2.15044 +he saw a stranger. 
 2.15045 +
 2.15046 +"Miss Pross's brother, sir," said Sydney. "Mr. Barsad." 
 2.15047 +
 2.15048 +"Barsad?" repeated the old gentleman, "Barsad? I have an association 
 2.15049 +with the name - and with the face." 
 2.15050 +
 2.15051 +"I told you you had a remarkable face, Mr. Barsad," observed Carton, 
 2.15052 +coolly. "Pray sit down." 
 2.15053 +
 2.15054 +As he took a chair himself, he supplied the link that Mr. Lorry wanted, 
 2.15055 +by saying to him with a frown, "Witness at that trial." Mr. Lorry immedi- 
 2.15056 +ately remembered, and regarded his new visitor with an undisguised 
 2.15057 +look of abhorrence. 
 2.15058 +
 2.15059 +"Mr. Barsad has been recognised by Miss Pross as the affectionate 
 2.15060 +brother you have heard of," said Sydney, "and has acknowledged the re- 
 2.15061 +lationship. I pass to worse news. Darnay has been arrested again." 
 2.15062 +
 2.15063 +Struck with consternation, the old gentleman exclaimed, "What do you 
 2.15064 +tell me! I left him safe and free within these two hours, and am about to 
 2.15065 +return to him!" 
 2.15066 +
 2.15067 +"Arrested for all that. When was it done, Mr. Barsad?" 
 2.15068 +
 2.15069 +"Just now, if at all." 
 2.15070 +
 2.15071 +"Mr. Barsad is the best authority possible, sir," said Sydney, "and I 
 2.15072 +have it from Mr. Barsad' s communication to a friend and brother Sheep 
 2.15073 +over a bottle of wine, that the arrest has taken place. He left the messen- 
 2.15074 +gers at the gate, and saw them admitted by the porter. There is no 
 2.15075 +earthly doubt that he is retaken." 
 2.15076 +
 2.15077 +
 2.15078 +
 2.15079 +298 
 2.15080 +
 2.15081 +
 2.15082 +
 2.15083 +Mr. Lorry's business eye read in the speaker's face that it was loss of 
 2.15084 +time to dwell upon the point. Confused, but sensible that something 
 2.15085 +might depend on his presence of mind, he commanded himself, and was 
 2.15086 +silently attentive. 
 2.15087 +
 2.15088 +"Now, I trust," said Sydney to him, "that the name and influence of 
 2.15089 +Doctor Manette may stand him in as good stead to-morrow - you said he 
 2.15090 +would be before the Tribunal again to-morrow, Mr. Barsad? - " 
 2.15091 +
 2.15092 +"Yes; I believe so." 
 2.15093 +
 2.15094 +" - In as good stead to-morrow as to-day. But it may not be so. I own to 
 2.15095 +you, I am shaken, Mr. Lorry, by Doctor Manette's not having had the 
 2.15096 +power to prevent this arrest." 
 2.15097 +
 2.15098 +"He may not have known of it beforehand," said Mr. Lorry. 
 2.15099 +
 2.15100 +"But that very circumstance would be alarming, when we remember 
 2.15101 +how identified he is with his son-in-law." 
 2.15102 +
 2.15103 +"That's true," Mr. Lorry acknowledged, with his troubled hand at his 
 2.15104 +chin, and his troubled eyes on Carton. 
 2.15105 +
 2.15106 +"In short," said Sydney, "this is a desperate time, when desperate 
 2.15107 +games are played for desperate stakes. Let the Doctor play the winning 
 2.15108 +game; I will play the losing one. No man's life here is worth purchase. 
 2.15109 +Any one carried home by the people to-day, may be condemned tomor- 
 2.15110 +row. Now, the stake I have resolved to play for, in case of the worst, is a 
 2.15111 +friend in the Conciergerie. And the friend I purpose to myself to win, is 
 2.15112 +Mr. Barsad." 
 2.15113 +
 2.15114 +"You need have good cards, sir," said the spy. 
 2.15115 +
 2.15116 +"I'll run them over. I'll see what I hold, - Mr. Lorry, you know what a 
 2.15117 +brute I am; I wish you'd give me a little brandy." 
 2.15118 +
 2.15119 +It was put before him, and he drank off a glassful - drank off another 
 2.15120 +glassful - pushed the bottle thoughtfully away. 
 2.15121 +
 2.15122 +"Mr. Barsad," he went on, in the tone of one who really was looking 
 2.15123 +over a hand at cards: "Sheep of the prisons, emissary of Republican com- 
 2.15124 +mittees, now turnkey, now prisoner, always spy and secret informer, so 
 2.15125 +much the more valuable here for being English that an Englishman is 
 2.15126 +less open to suspicion of subornation in those characters than a French- 
 2.15127 +man, represents himself to his employers under a false name. That's a 
 2.15128 +very good card. Mr. Barsad, now in the employ of the republican French 
 2.15129 +government, was formerly in the employ of the aristocratic English gov- 
 2.15130 +ernment, the enemy of France and freedom. That's an excellent card. In- 
 2.15131 +ference clear as day in this region of suspicion, that Mr. Barsad, still in 
 2.15132 +
 2.15133 +
 2.15134 +
 2.15135 +299 
 2.15136 +
 2.15137 +
 2.15138 +
 2.15139 +the pay of the aristocratic English government, is the spy of Pitt, the 
 2.15140 +treacherous foe of the Republic crouching in its bosom, the English trait- 
 2.15141 +or and agent of all mischief so much spoken of and so difficult to find. 
 2.15142 +That's a card not to be beaten. Have you followed my hand, Mr. Barsad?" 
 2.15143 +
 2.15144 +"Not to understand your play," returned the spy, somewhat uneasily. 
 2.15145 +
 2.15146 +"I play my Ace, Denunciation of Mr. Barsad to the nearest Section 
 2.15147 +Committee. Look over your hand, Mr. Barsad, and see what you have. 
 2.15148 +Don't hurry." 
 2.15149 +
 2.15150 +He drew the bottle near, poured out another glassful of brandy, and 
 2.15151 +drank it off. He saw that the spy was fearful of his drinking himself into 
 2.15152 +a fit state for the immediate denunciation of him. Seeing it, he poured 
 2.15153 +out and drank another glassful. 
 2.15154 +
 2.15155 +"Look over your hand carefully, Mr. Barsad. Take time." 
 2.15156 +
 2.15157 +It was a poorer hand than he suspected. Mr. Barsad saw losing cards 
 2.15158 +in it that Sydney Carton knew nothing of. Thrown out of his honourable 
 2.15159 +employment in England, through too much unsuccessful hard swearing 
 2.15160 +there - not because he was not wanted there; our English reasons for 
 2.15161 +vaunting our superiority to secrecy and spies are of very modern 
 2.15162 +date - he knew that he had crossed the Channel, and accepted service in 
 2.15163 +France: first, as a tempter and an eavesdropper among his own country- 
 2.15164 +men there: gradually, as a tempter and an eavesdropper among the nat- 
 2.15165 +ives. He knew that under the overthrown government he had been a spy 
 2.15166 +upon Saint Antoine and Defarge's wine-shop; had received from the 
 2.15167 +watchful police such heads of information concerning Doctor Manette's 
 2.15168 +imprisonment, release, and history, as should serve him for an introduc- 
 2.15169 +tion to familiar conversation with the Defarges; and tried them on Ma- 
 2.15170 +dame Defarge, and had broken down with them signally. He always re- 
 2.15171 +membered with fear and trembling, that that terrible woman had knitted 
 2.15172 +when he talked with her, and had looked ominously at him as her fin- 
 2.15173 +gers moved. He had since seen her, in the Section of Saint Antoine, over 
 2.15174 +and over again produce her knitted registers, and denounce people 
 2.15175 +whose lives the guillotine then surely swallowed up. He knew, as every 
 2.15176 +one employed as he was did, that he was never safe; that flight was im- 
 2.15177 +possible; that he was tied fast under the shadow of the axe; and that in 
 2.15178 +spite of his utmost tergiversation and treachery in furtherance of the 
 2.15179 +reigning terror, a word might bring it down upon him. Once denounced, 
 2.15180 +and on such grave grounds as had just now been suggested to his mind, 
 2.15181 +he foresaw that the dreadful woman of whose unrelenting character he 
 2.15182 +had seen many proofs, would produce against him that fatal register, 
 2.15183 +
 2.15184 +
 2.15185 +
 2.15186 +300 
 2.15187 +
 2.15188 +
 2.15189 +
 2.15190 +and would quash his last chance of life. Besides that all secret men are 
 2.15191 +men soon terrified, here were surely cards enough of one black suit, to 
 2.15192 +justify the holder in growing rather livid as he turned them over. 
 2.15193 +
 2.15194 +"You scarcely seem to like your hand," said Sydney, with the greatest 
 2.15195 +composure. "Do you play?" 
 2.15196 +
 2.15197 +"I think, sir," said the spy, in the meanest manner, as he turned to Mr. 
 2.15198 +Lorry, "I may appeal to a gentleman of your years and benevolence, to 
 2.15199 +put it to this other gentleman, so much your junior, whether he can un- 
 2.15200 +der any circumstances reconcile it to his station to play that Ace of which 
 2.15201 +he has spoken. I admit that I am a spy, and that it is considered a dis- 
 2.15202 +creditable station - though it must be filled by somebody; but this gentle- 
 2.15203 +man is no spy, and why should he so demean himself as to make himself 
 2.15204 +one?" 
 2.15205 +
 2.15206 +"I play my Ace, Mr. Barsad," said Carton, taking the answer on him- 
 2.15207 +self, and looking at his watch, "without any scruple, in a very few 
 2.15208 +minutes." 
 2.15209 +
 2.15210 +"I should have hoped, gentlemen both," said the spy, always striving 
 2.15211 +to hook Mr. Lorry into the discussion, "that your respect for my sister - " 
 2.15212 +
 2.15213 +"I could not better testify my respect for your sister than by finally re- 
 2.15214 +lieving her of her brother," said Sydney Carton. 
 2.15215 +
 2.15216 +"You think not, sir?" 
 2.15217 +
 2.15218 +"I have thoroughly made up my mind about it." 
 2.15219 +
 2.15220 +The smooth manner of the spy, curiously in dissonance with his osten- 
 2.15221 +tatiously rough dress, and probably with his usual demeanour, received 
 2.15222 +such a check from the inscrutability of Carton, - who was a mystery to 
 2.15223 +wiser and honester men than he, - that it faltered here and failed him. 
 2.15224 +While he was at a loss, Carton said, resuming his former air of contem- 
 2.15225 +plating cards: 
 2.15226 +
 2.15227 +"And indeed, now I think again, I have a strong impression that I have 
 2.15228 +another good card here, not yet enumerated. That friend and fellow- 
 2.15229 +Sheep, who spoke of himself as pasturing in the country prisons; who 
 2.15230 +was he?" 
 2.15231 +
 2.15232 +"French. You don't know him," said the spy, quickly. 
 2.15233 +
 2.15234 +"French, eh?" repeated Carton, musing, and not appearing to notice 
 2.15235 +him at all, though he echoed his word. "Well; he may be." 
 2.15236 +
 2.15237 +"Is, I assure you," said the spy; "though it's not important." 
 2.15238 +
 2.15239 +
 2.15240 +
 2.15241 +301 
 2.15242 +
 2.15243 +
 2.15244 +
 2.15245 +"Though it's not important," repeated Carton, in the same mechanical 
 2.15246 +way - "though it's not important - No, it's not important. No. Yet I know 
 2.15247 +the face." 
 2.15248 +
 2.15249 +"I think not. I am sure not. It can't be," said the spy. 
 2.15250 +
 2.15251 +"It-can't-be," muttered Sydney Carton, retrospectively, and idling his 
 2.15252 +glass (which fortunately was a small one) again. "Can't-be. Spoke good 
 2.15253 +French. Yet like a foreigner, I thought?" 
 2.15254 +
 2.15255 +"Provincial," said the spy. 
 2.15256 +
 2.15257 +"No. Foreign!" cried Carton, striking his open hand on the table, as a 
 2.15258 +light broke clearly on his mind. "Cly! Disguised, but the same man. We 
 2.15259 +had that man before us at the Old Bailey." 
 2.15260 +
 2.15261 +"Now, there you are hasty, sir," said Barsad, with a smile that gave his 
 2.15262 +aquiline nose an extra inclination to one side; "there you really give me 
 2.15263 +an advantage over you. Cly (who I will unreservedly admit, at this dis- 
 2.15264 +tance of time, was a partner of mine) has been dead several years. I atten- 
 2.15265 +ded him in his last illness. He was buried in London, at the church of 
 2.15266 +Saint Pancras-in-the-Fields. His unpopularity with the blackguard multi- 
 2.15267 +tude at the moment prevented my following his remains, but I helped to 
 2.15268 +lay him in his coffin." 
 2.15269 +
 2.15270 +Here, Mr. Lorry became aware, from where he sat, of a most remark- 
 2.15271 +able goblin shadow on the wall. Tracing it to its source, he discovered it 
 2.15272 +to be caused by a sudden extraordinary rising and stiffening of all the 
 2.15273 +risen and stiff hair on Mr. Cruncher's head. 
 2.15274 +
 2.15275 +"Let us be reasonable," said the spy, "and let us be fair. To show you 
 2.15276 +how mistaken you are, and what an unfounded assumption yours is, I 
 2.15277 +will lay before you a certificate of Cly's burial, which I happened to have 
 2.15278 +carried in my pocket-book," with a hurried hand he produced and 
 2.15279 +opened it, "ever since. There it is. Oh, look at it, look at it! You may take 
 2.15280 +it in your hand; it's no forgery." 
 2.15281 +
 2.15282 +Here, Mr. Lorry perceived the reflexion on the wall to elongate, and 
 2.15283 +Mr. Cruncher rose and stepped forward. His hair could not have been 
 2.15284 +more violently on end, if it had been that moment dressed by the Cow 
 2.15285 +with the crumpled horn in the house that Jack built. 
 2.15286 +
 2.15287 +Unseen by the spy, Mr. Cruncher stood at his side, and touched him 
 2.15288 +on the shoulder like a ghostly bailiff. 
 2.15289 +
 2.15290 +"That there Roger Cly, master," said Mr. Cruncher, with a taciturn and 
 2.15291 +iron-bound visage. "So you put him in his coffin?" 
 2.15292 +
 2.15293 +"I did." 
 2.15294 +
 2.15295 +
 2.15296 +
 2.15297 +302 
 2.15298 +
 2.15299 +
 2.15300 +
 2.15301 +"Who took him out of it?" 
 2.15302 +
 2.15303 +Barsad leaned back in his chair, and stammered, "What do you mean?" 
 2.15304 +
 2.15305 +"I mean," said Mr. Cruncher, "that he warn't never in it. No! Not he! I'll 
 2.15306 +have my head took off, if he was ever in it." 
 2.15307 +
 2.15308 +The spy looked round at the two gentlemen; they both looked in un- 
 2.15309 +speakable astonishment at Jerry. 
 2.15310 +
 2.15311 +"I tell you," said Jerry, "that you buried paving-stones and earth in that 
 2.15312 +there coffin. Don't go and tell me that you buried Cly. It was a take in. 
 2.15313 +Me and two more knows it." 
 2.15314 +
 2.15315 +"How do you know it?" 
 2.15316 +
 2.15317 +"What's that to you? Ecod!" growled Mr. Cruncher, "it's you I have got 
 2.15318 +a old grudge again, is it, with your shameful impositions upon trades- 
 2.15319 +men! I'd catch hold of your throat and choke you for half a guinea." 
 2.15320 +
 2.15321 +Sydney Carton, who, with Mr. Lorry, had been lost in amazement at 
 2.15322 +this turn of the business, here requested Mr. Cruncher to moderate and 
 2.15323 +explain himself. 
 2.15324 +
 2.15325 +"At another time, sir," he returned, evasively, "the present time is ill- 
 2.15326 +conwenient for explainin'. What I stand to, is, that he knows well wot 
 2.15327 +that there Cly was never in that there coffin. Let him say he was, in so 
 2.15328 +much as a word of one syllable, and I'll either catch hold of his throat 
 2.15329 +and choke him for half a guinea;" Mr. Cruncher dwelt upon this as quite 
 2.15330 +a liberal offer; "or I'll out and announce him." 
 2.15331 +
 2.15332 +"Humph! I see one thing," said Carton. "I hold another card, Mr. 
 2.15333 +Barsad. Impossible, here in raging Paris, with Suspicion filling the air, for 
 2.15334 +you to outlive denunciation, when you are in communication with an- 
 2.15335 +other aristocratic spy of the same antecedents as yourself, who, 
 2.15336 +moreover, has the mystery about him of having feigned death and come 
 2.15337 +to life again! A plot in the prisons, of the foreigner against the Republic. 
 2.15338 +A strong card - a certain Guillotine card! Do you play?" 
 2.15339 +
 2.15340 +"No!" returned the spy. "I throw up. I confess that we were so unpopu- 
 2.15341 +lar with the outrageous mob, that I only got away from England at the 
 2.15342 +risk of being ducked to death, and that Cly was so ferreted up and down, 
 2.15343 +that he never would have got away at all but for that sham. Though how 
 2.15344 +this man knows it was a sham, is a wonder of wonders to me." 
 2.15345 +
 2.15346 +"Never you trouble your head about this man," retorted the conten- 
 2.15347 +tious Mr. Cruncher; "you'll have trouble enough with giving your atten- 
 2.15348 +tion to that gentleman. And look here! Once more!" - Mr. Cruncher 
 2.15349 +could not be restrained from making rather an ostentatious parade of his 
 2.15350 +
 2.15351 +
 2.15352 +
 2.15353 +303 
 2.15354 +
 2.15355 +
 2.15356 +
 2.15357 +liberality - "I'd catch hold of your throat and choke you for half a 
 2.15358 +guinea." 
 2.15359 +
 2.15360 +The Sheep of the prisons turned from him to Sydney Carton, and said, 
 2.15361 +with more decision, "It has come to a point. I go on duty soon, and can't 
 2.15362 +overstay my time. You told me you had a proposal; what is it? Now, it is 
 2.15363 +of no use asking too much of me. Ask me to do anything in my office, 
 2.15364 +putting my head in great extra danger, and I had better trust my life to 
 2.15365 +the chances of a refusal than the chances of consent. In short, I should 
 2.15366 +make that choice. You talk of desperation. We are all desperate here. Re- 
 2.15367 +member! I may denounce you if I think proper, and I can swear my way 
 2.15368 +through stone walls, and so can others. Now, what do you want with 
 2.15369 +me?" 
 2.15370 +
 2.15371 +"Not very much. You are a turnkey at the Conciergerie?" 
 2.15372 +
 2.15373 +"I tell you once for all, there is no such thing as an escape possible," 
 2.15374 +said the spy, firmly. 
 2.15375 +
 2.15376 +"Why need you tell me what I have not asked? You are a turnkey at 
 2.15377 +the Conciergerie?" 
 2.15378 +
 2.15379 +"I am sometimes." 
 2.15380 +
 2.15381 +"You can be when you choose?" 
 2.15382 +
 2.15383 +"I can pass in and out when I choose." 
 2.15384 +
 2.15385 +Sydney Carton filled another glass with brandy, poured it slowly out 
 2.15386 +upon the hearth, and watched it as it dropped. It being all spent, he said, 
 2.15387 +rising: 
 2.15388 +
 2.15389 +"So far, we have spoken before these two, because it was as well that 
 2.15390 +the merits of the cards should not rest solely between you and me. Come 
 2.15391 +into the dark room here, and let us have one final word alone." 
 2.15392 +
 2.15393 +
 2.15394 +
 2.15395 +304 
 2.15396 +
 2.15397 +
 2.15398 +
 2.15399 +Chapter 
 2.15400 +
 2.15401 +
 2.15402 +
 2.15403 +9 
 2.15404 +
 2.15405 +
 2.15406 +
 2.15407 +The Game Made 
 2.15408 +
 2.15409 +While Sydney Carton and the Sheep of the prisons were in the adjoin- 
 2.15410 +ing dark room, speaking so low that not a sound was heard, Mr. Lorry 
 2.15411 +looked at Jerry in considerable doubt and mistrust. That honest 
 2.15412 +tradesman's manner of receiving the look, did not inspire confidence; he 
 2.15413 +changed the leg on which he rested, as often as if he had fifty of those 
 2.15414 +limbs, and were trying them all; he examined his finger-nails with a very 
 2.15415 +questionable closeness of attention; and whenever Mr. Lorry's eye 
 2.15416 +caught his, he was taken with that peculiar kind of short cough requiring 
 2.15417 +the hollow of a hand before it, which is seldom, if ever, known to be an 
 2.15418 +infirmity attendant on perfect openness of character. 
 2.15419 +
 2.15420 +"Jerry," said Mr. Lorry. "Come here." 
 2.15421 +
 2.15422 +Mr. Cruncher came forward sideways, with one of his shoulders in ad- 
 2.15423 +vance of him. 
 2.15424 +
 2.15425 +"What have you been, besides a messenger?" 
 2.15426 +
 2.15427 +After some cogitation, accompanied with an intent look at his patron, 
 2.15428 +Mr. Cruncher conceived the luminous idea of replying, "Agicultooral 
 2.15429 +character." 
 2.15430 +
 2.15431 +"My mind misgives me much," said Mr. Lorry, angrily shaking a fore- 
 2.15432 +finger at him, "that you have used the respectable and great house of 
 2.15433 +Tellson's as a blind, and that you have had an unlawful occupation of an 
 2.15434 +infamous description. If you have, don't expect me to befriend you when 
 2.15435 +you get back to England. If you have, don't expect me to keep your 
 2.15436 +secret. Tellson's shall not be imposed upon." 
 2.15437 +
 2.15438 +"I hope, sir," pleaded the abashed Mr. Cruncher, "that a gentleman like 
 2.15439 +yourself wot I've had the honour of odd jobbing till I'm grey at it, would 
 2.15440 +think twice about harming of me, even if it wos so - I don't say it is, but 
 2.15441 +even if it wos. And which it is to be took into account that if it wos, it 
 2.15442 +wouldn't, even then, be all o' one side. There'd be two sides to it. There 
 2.15443 +might be medical doctors at the present hour, a picking up their guineas 
 2.15444 +
 2.15445 +
 2.15446 +
 2.15447 +305 
 2.15448 +
 2.15449 +
 2.15450 +
 2.15451 +where a honest tradesman don't pick up his fardens - fardens! no, nor 
 2.15452 +yet his half fardens - half fardens! no, nor yet his quarter - a banking 
 2.15453 +away like smoke at Tellson's, and a cocking their medical eyes at that 
 2.15454 +tradesman on the sly, a going in and going out to their own car- 
 2.15455 +riages - ah! equally like smoke, if not more so. Well, that 'ud be impos- 
 2.15456 +ing, too, on Tellson's. For you cannot sarse the goose and not the gander. 
 2.15457 +And here's Mrs. Cruncher, or leastways wos in the Old England times, 
 2.15458 +and would be to-morrow, if cause given, a floppin' again the business to 
 2.15459 +that degree as is ruinating - stark ruinating! Whereas them medical doc- 
 2.15460 +tors' wives don't flop - catch 'em at it! Or, if they flop, their toppings 
 2.15461 +goes in favour of more patients, and how can you rightly have one 
 2.15462 +without t'other? Then, wot with undertakers, and wot with parish clerks, 
 2.15463 +and wot with sextons, and wot with private watchmen (all awaricious 
 2.15464 +and all in it), a man wouldn't get much by it, even if it wos so. And wot 
 2.15465 +little a man did get, would never prosper with him, Mr. Lorry. He'd nev- 
 2.15466 +er have no good of it; he'd want all along to be out of the line, if he, could 
 2.15467 +see his way out, being once in - even if it wos so." 
 2.15468 +
 2.15469 +"Ugh!" cried Mr. Lorry, rather relenting, nevertheless, "I am shocked at 
 2.15470 +the sight of you." 
 2.15471 +
 2.15472 +"Now, what I would humbly offer to you, sir," pursued Mr. Cruncher, 
 2.15473 +"even if it wos so, which I don't say it is - " 
 2.15474 +
 2.15475 +"Don't prevaricate," said Mr. Lorry. 
 2.15476 +
 2.15477 +"No, I will not, sir," returned Mr. Crunches as if nothing were further 
 2.15478 +from his thoughts or practice - "which I don't say it is - wot I would 
 2.15479 +humbly offer to you, sir, would be this. Upon that there stool, at that 
 2.15480 +there Bar, sets that there boy of mine, brought up and growed up to be a 
 2.15481 +man, wot will errand you, message you, general-light-job you, till your 
 2.15482 +heels is where your head is, if such should be your wishes. If it wos so, 
 2.15483 +which I still don't say it is (for I will not prewaricate to you, sir), let that 
 2.15484 +there boy keep his father's place, and take care of his mother; don't blow 
 2.15485 +upon that boy's father - do not do it, sir - and let that father go into the 
 2.15486 +line of the reg'lar diggin', and make amends for what he would have un- 
 2.15487 +dug - if it wos so-by diggin' of 'em in with a will, and with conwictions 
 2.15488 +respectin' the futur' keepin' of 'em safe. That, Mr. Lorry," said Mr. 
 2.15489 +Cruncher, wiping his forehead with his arm, as an announcement that he 
 2.15490 +had arrived at the peroration of his discourse, "is wot I would respect- 
 2.15491 +fully offer to you, sir. A man don't see all this here a goin' on dreadful 
 2.15492 +round him, in the way of Subjects without heads, dear me, plentiful 
 2.15493 +enough fur to bring the price down to porterage and hardly that, without 
 2.15494 +
 2.15495 +
 2.15496 +
 2.15497 +306 
 2.15498 +
 2.15499 +
 2.15500 +
 2.15501 +havin' his serious thoughts of things. And these here would be mine, if it 
 2.15502 +wos so, entreatin' of you fur to bear in mind that wot I said just now, I up 
 2.15503 +and said in the good cause when I might have kep' it back." 
 2.15504 +
 2.15505 +"That at least is true, said Mr. Lorry. "Say no more now. It may be that 
 2.15506 +I shall yet stand your friend, if you deserve it, and repent in action - not 
 2.15507 +in words. I want no more words." 
 2.15508 +
 2.15509 +Mr. Cruncher knuckled his forehead, as Sydney Carton and the spy re- 
 2.15510 +turned from the dark room. "Adieu, Mr. Barsad," said the former; "our 
 2.15511 +arrangement thus made, you have nothing to fear from me." 
 2.15512 +
 2.15513 +He sat down in a chair on the hearth, over against Mr. Lorry. When 
 2.15514 +they were alone, Mr. Lorry asked him what he had done? 
 2.15515 +
 2.15516 +"Not much. If it should go ill with the prisoner, I have ensured access 
 2.15517 +to him, once." 
 2.15518 +
 2.15519 +Mr. Lorry's countenance fell. 
 2.15520 +
 2.15521 +"It is all I could do," said Carton. "To propose too much, would be to 
 2.15522 +put this man's head under the axe, and, as he himself said, nothing 
 2.15523 +worse could happen to him if he were denounced. It was obviously the 
 2.15524 +weakness of the position. There is no help for it." 
 2.15525 +
 2.15526 +"But access to him," said Mr. Lorry, "if it should go ill before the 
 2.15527 +Tribunal, will not save him." 
 2.15528 +
 2.15529 +"I never said it would." 
 2.15530 +
 2.15531 +Mr. Lorry's eyes gradually sought the fire; his sympathy with his 
 2.15532 +darling, and the heavy disappointment of his second arrest, gradually 
 2.15533 +weakened them; he was an old man now, overborne with anxiety of late, 
 2.15534 +and his tears fell. 
 2.15535 +
 2.15536 +"You are a good man and a true friend," said Carton, in an altered 
 2.15537 +voice. "Forgive me if I notice that you are affected. I could not see my 
 2.15538 +father weep, and sit by, careless. And I could not respect your sorrow 
 2.15539 +more, if you were my father. You are free from that misfortune, 
 2.15540 +however." 
 2.15541 +
 2.15542 +Though he said the last words, with a slip into his usual manner, there 
 2.15543 +was a true feeling and respect both in his tone and in his touch, that Mr. 
 2.15544 +Lorry, who had never seen the better side of him, was wholly unpre- 
 2.15545 +pared for. He gave him his hand, and Carton gently pressed it. 
 2.15546 +
 2.15547 +"To return to poor Darnay," said Carton. "Don't tell Her of this inter- 
 2.15548 +view, or this arrangement. It would not enable Her to go to see him. She 
 2.15549 +
 2.15550 +
 2.15551 +
 2.15552 +307 
 2.15553 +
 2.15554 +
 2.15555 +
 2.15556 +might think it was contrived, in case of the worse, to convey to him the 
 2.15557 +means of anticipating the sentence." 
 2.15558 +
 2.15559 +Mr. Lorry had not thought of that, and he looked quickly at Carton to 
 2.15560 +see if it were in his mind. It seemed to be; he returned the look, and evid- 
 2.15561 +ently understood it. 
 2.15562 +
 2.15563 +"She might think a thousand things," Carton said, "and any of them 
 2.15564 +would only add to her trouble. Don't speak of me to her. As I said to you 
 2.15565 +when I first came, I had better not see her. I can put my hand out, to do 
 2.15566 +any little helpful work for her that my hand can find to do, without that. 
 2.15567 +You are going to her, I hope? She must be very desolate to-night." 
 2.15568 +
 2.15569 +"I am going now, directly." 
 2.15570 +
 2.15571 +"I am glad of that. She has such a strong attachment to you and reli- 
 2.15572 +ance on you. How does she look?" 
 2.15573 +
 2.15574 +"Anxious and unhappy, but very beautiful." 
 2.15575 +
 2.15576 +"Ah!" 
 2.15577 +
 2.15578 +It was a long, grieving sound, like a sigh - almost like a sob. It attrac- 
 2.15579 +ted Mr. Lorry's eyes to Carton's face, which was turned to the fire. A 
 2.15580 +light, or a shade (the old gentleman could not have said which), passed 
 2.15581 +from it as swiftly as a change will sweep over a hill-side on a wild bright 
 2.15582 +day, and he lifted his foot to put back one of the little flaming logs, which 
 2.15583 +was tumbling forward. He wore the white riding-coat and top-boots, 
 2.15584 +then in vogue, and the light of the fire touching their light surfaces made 
 2.15585 +him look very pale, with his long brown hair, all untrimmed, hanging 
 2.15586 +loose about him. His indifference to fire was sufficiently remarkable to 
 2.15587 +elicit a word of remonstrance from Mr. Lorry; his boot was still upon the 
 2.15588 +hot embers of the flaming log, when it had broken under the weight of 
 2.15589 +his foot. 
 2.15590 +
 2.15591 +"I forgot it," he said. 
 2.15592 +
 2.15593 +Mr. Lorry's eyes were again attracted to his face. Taking note of the 
 2.15594 +wasted air which clouded the naturally handsome features, and having 
 2.15595 +the expression of prisoners' faces fresh in his mind, he was strongly re- 
 2.15596 +minded of that expression. 
 2.15597 +
 2.15598 +"And your duties here have drawn to an end, sir?" said Carton, turn- 
 2.15599 +ing to him. 
 2.15600 +
 2.15601 +"Yes. As I was telling you last night when Lucie came in so unexpec- 
 2.15602 +tedly, I have at length done all that I can do here. I hoped to have left 
 2.15603 +them in perfect safety, and then to have quitted Paris. I have my Leave to 
 2.15604 +Pass. I was ready to go." 
 2.15605 +
 2.15606 +
 2.15607 +
 2.15608 +308 
 2.15609 +
 2.15610 +
 2.15611 +
 2.15612 +They were both silent. 
 2.15613 +
 2.15614 +"Yours is a long life to look back upon, sir?" said Carton, wistfully. 
 2.15615 +
 2.15616 +"I am in my seventy-eighth year." 
 2.15617 +
 2.15618 +"You have been useful all your life; steadily and constantly occupied; 
 2.15619 +trusted, respected, and looked up to?" 
 2.15620 +
 2.15621 +"I have been a man of business, ever since I have been a man. indeed, I 
 2.15622 +may say that I was a man of business when a boy." 
 2.15623 +
 2.15624 +"See what a place you fill at seventy-eight. How many people will miss 
 2.15625 +you when you leave it empty!" 
 2.15626 +
 2.15627 +"A solitary old bachelor," answered Mr. Lorry, shaking his head. 
 2.15628 +"There is nobody to weep for me." 
 2.15629 +
 2.15630 +"How can you say that? Wouldn't She weep for you? Wouldn't her 
 2.15631 +child?" 
 2.15632 +
 2.15633 +"Yes, yes, thank God. I didn't quite mean what I said." 
 2.15634 +
 2.15635 +"It is a thing to thank God for; is it not?" 
 2.15636 +
 2.15637 +"Surely, surely." 
 2.15638 +
 2.15639 +"If you could say, with truth, to your own solitary heart, to-night, 'I 
 2.15640 +have secured to myself the love and attachment, the gratitude or respect, 
 2.15641 +of no human creature; I have won myself a tender place in no regard; I 
 2.15642 +have done nothing good or serviceable to be remembered by!' your 
 2.15643 +seventy-eight years would be seventy-eight heavy curses; would they 
 2.15644 +not?" 
 2.15645 +
 2.15646 +"You say truly, Mr. Carton; I think they would be." 
 2.15647 +
 2.15648 +Sydney turned his eyes again upon the fire, and, after a silence of a 
 2.15649 +few moments, said: 
 2.15650 +
 2.15651 +"I should like to ask you: - Does your childhood seem far off? Do the 
 2.15652 +days when you sat at your mother's knee, seem days of very long ago?" 
 2.15653 +
 2.15654 +Responding to his softened manner, Mr. Lorry answered: 
 2.15655 +
 2.15656 +"Twenty years back, yes; at this time of my life, no. For, as I draw 
 2.15657 +closer and closer to the end, I travel in the circle, nearer and nearer to the 
 2.15658 +beginning. It seems to be one of the kind smoothings and preparings of 
 2.15659 +the way. My heart is touched now, by many remembrances that had long 
 2.15660 +fallen asleep, of my pretty young mother (and I so old!), and by many as- 
 2.15661 +sociations of the days when what we call the World was not so real with 
 2.15662 +me, and my faults were not confirmed in me." 
 2.15663 +
 2.15664 +
 2.15665 +
 2.15666 +309 
 2.15667 +
 2.15668 +
 2.15669 +
 2.15670 +"I understand the feeling!" exclaimed Carton, with a bright flush. "And 
 2.15671 +you are the better for it?" 
 2.15672 +
 2.15673 +"I hope so." 
 2.15674 +
 2.15675 +Carton terminated the conversation here, by rising to help him on with 
 2.15676 +his outer coat; "But you," said Mr. Lorry, reverting to the theme, "you are 
 2.15677 +young." 
 2.15678 +
 2.15679 +"Yes," said Carton. "I am not old, but my young way was never the 
 2.15680 +way to age. Enough of me." 
 2.15681 +
 2.15682 +"And of me, I am sure," said Mr. Lorry. "Are you going out?" 
 2.15683 +
 2.15684 +"I'll walk with you to her gate. You know my vagabond and restless 
 2.15685 +habits. If I should prowl about the streets a long time, don't be uneasy; I 
 2.15686 +shall reappear in the morning. You go to the Court to-morrow?" 
 2.15687 +
 2.15688 +"Yes, unhappily." 
 2.15689 +
 2.15690 +"I shall be there, but only as one of the crowd. My Spy will find a place 
 2.15691 +for me. Take my arm, sir." 
 2.15692 +
 2.15693 +Mr. Lorry did so, and they went down-stairs and out in the streets. A 
 2.15694 +few minutes brought them to Mr. Lorry's destination. Carton left him 
 2.15695 +there; but lingered at a little distance, and turned back to the gate again 
 2.15696 +when it was shut, and touched it. He had heard of her going to the pris- 
 2.15697 +on every day. "She came out here," he said, looking about him, "turned 
 2.15698 +this way, must have trod on these stones often. Let me follow in her 
 2.15699 +steps." 
 2.15700 +
 2.15701 +It was ten o'clock at night when he stood before the prison of La Force, 
 2.15702 +where she had stood hundreds of times. A little wood-sawyer, having 
 2.15703 +closed his shop, was smoking his pipe at his shop-door. 
 2.15704 +
 2.15705 +"Good night, citizen," said Sydney Carton, pausing in going by; for, the 
 2.15706 +man eyed him inquisitively. 
 2.15707 +
 2.15708 +"Good night, citizen." 
 2.15709 +
 2.15710 +"How goes the Republic?" 
 2.15711 +
 2.15712 +"You mean the Guillotine. Not ill. Sixty-three to-day. We shall mount 
 2.15713 +to a hundred soon. Samson and his men complain sometimes, of being 
 2.15714 +exhausted. Ha, ha, ha! He is so droll, that Samson. Such a Barber!" 
 2.15715 +
 2.15716 +"Do you often go to see him - " 
 2.15717 +
 2.15718 +"Shave? Always. Every day. What a barber! You have seen him at 
 2.15719 +work?" 
 2.15720 +
 2.15721 +"Never." 
 2.15722 +
 2.15723 +
 2.15724 +
 2.15725 +310 
 2.15726 +
 2.15727 +
 2.15728 +
 2.15729 +"Go and see him when he has a good batch. Figure this to yourself, cit- 
 2.15730 +izen; he shaved the sixty-three to-day, in less than two pipes! Less than 
 2.15731 +two pipes. Word of honour!" 
 2.15732 +
 2.15733 +As the grinning little man held out the pipe he was smoking, to ex- 
 2.15734 +plain how he timed the executioner, Carton was so sensible of a rising 
 2.15735 +desire to strike the life out of him, that he turned away. 
 2.15736 +
 2.15737 +"But you are not English," said the wood-sawyer, "though you wear 
 2.15738 +English dress?" 
 2.15739 +
 2.15740 +"Yes," said Carton, pausing again, and answering over his shoulder. 
 2.15741 +
 2.15742 +"You speak like a Frenchman." 
 2.15743 +
 2.15744 +"I am an old student here." 
 2.15745 +
 2.15746 +"Aha, a perfect Frenchman! Good night, Englishman." 
 2.15747 +
 2.15748 +"Good night, citizen." 
 2.15749 +
 2.15750 +"But go and see that droll dog," the little man persisted, calling after 
 2.15751 +him. "And take a pipe with you!" 
 2.15752 +
 2.15753 +Sydney had not gone far out of sight, when he stopped in the middle 
 2.15754 +of the street under a glimmering lamp, and wrote with his pencil on a 
 2.15755 +scrap of paper. Then, traversing with the decided step of one who re- 
 2.15756 +membered the way well, several dark and dirty streets - much dirtier 
 2.15757 +than usual, for the best public thoroughfares remained uncleansed in 
 2.15758 +those times of terror - he stopped at a chemist's shop, which the owner 
 2.15759 +was closing with his own hands. A small, dim, crooked shop, kept in a 
 2.15760 +tortuous, up-hill thoroughfare, by a small, dim, crooked man. 
 2.15761 +
 2.15762 +Giving this citizen, too, good night, as he confronted him at his 
 2.15763 +counter, he laid the scrap of paper before him. "Whew!" the chemist 
 2.15764 +whistled softly, as he read it. "Hi! hi! hi!" 
 2.15765 +
 2.15766 +Sydney Carton took no heed, and the chemist said: 
 2.15767 +
 2.15768 +"For you, citizen?" 
 2.15769 +
 2.15770 +"For me." 
 2.15771 +
 2.15772 +"You will be careful to keep them separate, citizen? You know the con- 
 2.15773 +sequences of mixing them?" 
 2.15774 +
 2.15775 +"Perfectly." 
 2.15776 +
 2.15777 +Certain small packets were made and given to him. He put them, one 
 2.15778 +by one, in the breast of his inner coat, counted out the money for them, 
 2.15779 +and deliberately left the shop. "There is nothing more to do," said he, 
 2.15780 +glancing upward at the moon, "until to-morrow. I can't sleep." 
 2.15781 +
 2.15782 +
 2.15783 +
 2.15784 +311 
 2.15785 +
 2.15786 +
 2.15787 +
 2.15788 +It was not a reckless manner, the manner in which he said these words 
 2.15789 +aloud under the fast-sailing clouds, nor was it more expressive of negli- 
 2.15790 +gence than defiance. It was the settled manner of a tired man, who had 
 2.15791 +wandered and struggled and got lost, but who at length struck into his 
 2.15792 +road and saw its end. 
 2.15793 +
 2.15794 +Long ago, when he had been famous among his earliest competitors as 
 2.15795 +a youth of great promise, he had followed his father to the grave. His 
 2.15796 +mother had died, years before. These solemn words, which had been 
 2.15797 +read at his father's grave, arose in his mind as he went down the dark 
 2.15798 +streets, among the heavy shadows, with the moon and the clouds sailing 
 2.15799 +on high above him. "I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he 
 2.15800 +that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whoso- 
 2.15801 +ever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die." 
 2.15802 +
 2.15803 +In a city dominated by the axe, alone at night, with natural sorrow 
 2.15804 +rising in him for the sixty-three who had been that day put to death, and 
 2.15805 +for to-morrow's victims then awaiting their doom in the prisons, and still 
 2.15806 +of to-morrow's and to-morrow's, the chain of association that brought 
 2.15807 +the words home, like a rusty old ship's anchor from the deep, might have 
 2.15808 +been easily found. He did not seek it, but repeated them and went on. 
 2.15809 +
 2.15810 +With a solemn interest in the lighted windows where the people were 
 2.15811 +going to rest, forgetful through a few calm hours of the horrors sur- 
 2.15812 +rounding them; in the towers of the churches, where no prayers were 
 2.15813 +said, for the popular revulsion had even travelled that length of self-de- 
 2.15814 +struction from years of priestly impostors, plunderers, and profligates; in 
 2.15815 +the distant burial-places, reserved, as they wrote upon the gates, for 
 2.15816 +Eternal Sleep; in the abounding gaols; and in the streets along which the 
 2.15817 +sixties rolled to a death which had become so common and material, that 
 2.15818 +no sorrowful story of a haunting Spirit ever arose among the people out 
 2.15819 +of all the working of the Guillotine; with a solemn interest in the whole 
 2.15820 +life and death of the city settling down to its short nightly pause in fury; 
 2.15821 +Sydney Carton crossed the Seine again for the lighter streets. 
 2.15822 +
 2.15823 +Few coaches were abroad, for riders in coaches were liable to be sus- 
 2.15824 +pected, and gentility hid its head in red nightcaps, and put on heavy 
 2.15825 +shoes, and trudged. But, the theatres were all well filled, and the people 
 2.15826 +poured cheerfully out as he passed, and went chatting home. At one of 
 2.15827 +the theatre doors, there was a little girl with a mother, looking for a way 
 2.15828 +across the street through the mud. He carried the child over, and before, 
 2.15829 +the timid arm was loosed from his neck asked her for a kiss. 
 2.15830 +
 2.15831 +
 2.15832 +
 2.15833 +312 
 2.15834 +
 2.15835 +
 2.15836 +
 2.15837 +"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in 
 2.15838 +me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and be- 
 2.15839 +lieveth in me, shall never die." 
 2.15840 +
 2.15841 +Now, that the streets were quiet, and the night wore on, the words 
 2.15842 +were in the echoes of his feet, and were in the air. Perfectly calm and 
 2.15843 +steady, he sometimes repeated them to himself as he walked; but, he 
 2.15844 +heard them always. 
 2.15845 +
 2.15846 +The night wore out, and, as he stood upon the bridge listening to the 
 2.15847 +water as it splashed the river-walls of the Island of Paris, where the pic- 
 2.15848 +turesque confusion of houses and cathedral shone bright in the light of 
 2.15849 +the moon, the day came coldly, looking like a dead face out of the sky. 
 2.15850 +Then, the night, with the moon and the stars, turned pale and died, and 
 2.15851 +for a little while it seemed as if Creation were delivered over to Death's 
 2.15852 +dominion. 
 2.15853 +
 2.15854 +But, the glorious sun, rising, seemed to strike those words, that burden 
 2.15855 +of the night, straight and warm to his heart in its long bright rays. And 
 2.15856 +looking along them, with reverently shaded eyes, a bridge of light ap- 
 2.15857 +peared to span the air between him and the sun, while the river sparkled 
 2.15858 +under it. 
 2.15859 +
 2.15860 +The strong tide, so swift, so deep, and certain, was like a congenial 
 2.15861 +friend, in the morning stillness. He walked by the stream, far from the 
 2.15862 +houses, and in the light and warmth of the sun fell asleep on the bank. 
 2.15863 +When he awoke and was afoot again, he lingered there yet a little longer, 
 2.15864 +watching an eddy that turned and turned purposeless, until the stream 
 2.15865 +absorbed it, and carried it on to the sea. - "Like me." 
 2.15866 +
 2.15867 +A trading-boat, with a sail of the softened colour of a dead leaf, then 
 2.15868 +glided into his view, floated by him, and died away. As its silent track in 
 2.15869 +the water disappeared, the prayer that had broken up out of his heart for 
 2.15870 +a merciful consideration of all his poor blindnesses and errors, ended in 
 2.15871 +the words, "I am the resurrection and the life." 
 2.15872 +
 2.15873 +Mr. Lorry was already out when he got back, and it was easy to sur- 
 2.15874 +mise where the good old man was gone. Sydney Carton drank nothing 
 2.15875 +but a little coffee, ate some bread, and, having washed and changed to 
 2.15876 +refresh himself, went out to the place of trial. 
 2.15877 +
 2.15878 +The court was all astir and a-buzz, when the black sheep - whom 
 2.15879 +many fell away from in dread - pressed him into an obscure corner 
 2.15880 +among the crowd. Mr. Lorry was there, and Doctor Manette was there. 
 2.15881 +She was there, sitting beside her father. 
 2.15882 +
 2.15883 +
 2.15884 +
 2.15885 +313 
 2.15886 +
 2.15887 +
 2.15888 +
 2.15889 +When her husband was brought in, she turned a look upon him, so 
 2.15890 +sustaining, so encouraging, so full of admiring love and pitying tender- 
 2.15891 +ness, yet so courageous for his sake, that it called the healthy blood into 
 2.15892 +his face, brightened his glance, and animated his heart. If there had been 
 2.15893 +any eyes to notice the influence of her look, on Sydney Carton, it would 
 2.15894 +have been seen to be the same influence exactly. 
 2.15895 +
 2.15896 +Before that unjust Tribunal, there was little or no order of procedure, 
 2.15897 +ensuring to any accused person any reasonable hearing. There could 
 2.15898 +have been no such Revolution, if all laws, forms, and ceremonies, had 
 2.15899 +not first been so monstrously abused, that the suicidal vengeance of the 
 2.15900 +Revolution was to scatter them all to the winds. 
 2.15901 +
 2.15902 +Every eye was turned to the jury. The same determined patriots and 
 2.15903 +good republicans as yesterday and the day before, and to-morrow and 
 2.15904 +the day after. Eager and prominent among them, one man with a craving 
 2.15905 +face, and his fingers perpetually hovering about his lips, whose appear- 
 2.15906 +ance gave great satisfaction to the spectators. A life-thirsting, cannibal- 
 2.15907 +looking, bloody-minded juryman, the Jacques Three of St. Antoine. The 
 2.15908 +whole jury, as a jury of dogs empannelled to try the deer. 
 2.15909 +
 2.15910 +Every eye then turned to the five judges and the public prosecutor. No 
 2.15911 +favourable leaning in that quarter to-day. A fell, uncompromising, 
 2.15912 +murderous business-meaning there. Every eye then sought some other 
 2.15913 +eye in the crowd, and gleamed at it approvingly; and heads nodded at 
 2.15914 +one another, before bending forward with a strained attention. 
 2.15915 +
 2.15916 +Charles Evremonde, called Darnay. Released yesterday. Reaccused 
 2.15917 +and retaken yesterday. Indictment delivered to him last night. Suspected 
 2.15918 +and Denounced enemy of the Republic, Aristocrat, one of a family of tyr- 
 2.15919 +ants, one of a race proscribed, for that they had used their abolished 
 2.15920 +privileges to the infamous oppression of the people. Charles Evremonde, 
 2.15921 +called Darnay, in right of such proscription, absolutely Dead in Law. 
 2.15922 +
 2.15923 +To this effect, in as few or fewer words, the Public Prosecutor. 
 2.15924 +
 2.15925 +The President asked, was the Accused openly denounced or secretly? 
 2.15926 +
 2.15927 +"Openly, President." 
 2.15928 +
 2.15929 +"By whom?" 
 2.15930 +
 2.15931 +"Three voices. Ernest Defarge, wine-vendor of St. Antoine." 
 2.15932 +
 2.15933 +"Good." 
 2.15934 +
 2.15935 +"Therese Defarge, his wife." 
 2.15936 +
 2.15937 +"Good." 
 2.15938 +
 2.15939 +
 2.15940 +
 2.15941 +314 
 2.15942 +
 2.15943 +
 2.15944 +
 2.15945 +"Alexandre Manette, physician." 
 2.15946 +
 2.15947 +A great uproar took place in the court, and in the midst of it, Doctor 
 2.15948 +Manette was seen, pale and trembling, standing where he had been 
 2.15949 +seated. 
 2.15950 +
 2.15951 +"President, I indignantly protest to you that this is a forgery and a 
 2.15952 +fraud. You know the accused to be the husband of my daughter. My 
 2.15953 +daughter, and those dear to her, are far dearer to me than my life. Who 
 2.15954 +and where is the false conspirator who says that I denounce the husband 
 2.15955 +of my child!" 
 2.15956 +
 2.15957 +"Citizen Manette, be tranquil. To fail in submission to the authority of 
 2.15958 +the Tribunal would be to put yourself out of Law. As to what is dearer to 
 2.15959 +you than life, nothing can be so dear to a good citizen as the Republic." 
 2.15960 +
 2.15961 +Loud acclamations hailed this rebuke. The President rang his bell, and 
 2.15962 +with warmth resumed. 
 2.15963 +
 2.15964 +"If the Republic should demand of you the sacrifice of your child her- 
 2.15965 +self, you would have no duty but to sacrifice her. Listen to what is to fol- 
 2.15966 +low. In the meanwhile, be silent!" 
 2.15967 +
 2.15968 +Frantic acclamations were again raised. Doctor Manette sat down, 
 2.15969 +with his eyes looking around, and his lips trembling; his daughter drew 
 2.15970 +closer to him. The craving man on the jury rubbed his hands together, 
 2.15971 +and restored the usual hand to his mouth. 
 2.15972 +
 2.15973 +Defarge was produced, when the court was quiet enough to admit of 
 2.15974 +his being heard, and rapidly expounded the story of the imprisonment, 
 2.15975 +and of his having been a mere boy in the Doctor's service, and of the re- 
 2.15976 +lease, and of the state of the prisoner when released and delivered to 
 2.15977 +him. This short examination followed, for the court was quick with its 
 2.15978 +work. 
 2.15979 +
 2.15980 +"You did good service at the taking of the Bastille, citizen?" 
 2.15981 +
 2.15982 +"I believe so." 
 2.15983 +
 2.15984 +Here, an excited woman screeched from the crowd: "You were one of 
 2.15985 +the best patriots there. Why not say so? You were a cannoneer that day 
 2.15986 +there, and you were among the first to enter the accursed fortress when 
 2.15987 +it fell. Patriots, I speak the truth!" 
 2.15988 +
 2.15989 +It was The Vengeance who, amidst the warm commendations of the 
 2.15990 +audience, thus assisted the proceedings. The President rang his bell; but, 
 2.15991 +The Vengeance, warming with encouragement, shrieked, "I defy that 
 2.15992 +bell!" wherein she was likewise much commended. 
 2.15993 +
 2.15994 +
 2.15995 +
 2.15996 +315 
 2.15997 +
 2.15998 +
 2.15999 +
 2.16000 +"Inform the Tribunal of what you did that day within the Bastille, 
 2.16001 +citizen." 
 2.16002 +
 2.16003 +"I knew," said Defarge, looking down at his wife, who stood at the bot- 
 2.16004 +tom of the steps on which he was raised, looking steadily up at him; "I 
 2.16005 +knew that this prisoner, of whom I speak, had been confined in a cell 
 2.16006 +known as One Hundred and Five, North Tower. I knew it from himself. 
 2.16007 +He knew himself by no other name than One Hundred and Five, North 
 2.16008 +Tower, when he made shoes under my care. As I serve my gun that day, 
 2.16009 +I resolve, when the place shall fall, to examine that cell. It falls. I mount 
 2.16010 +to the cell, with a fellow-citizen who is one of the Jury, directed by a 
 2.16011 +gaoler. I examine it, very closely. In a hole in the chimney, where a stone 
 2.16012 +has been worked out and replaced, I find a written paper. This is that 
 2.16013 +written paper. I have made it my business to examine some specimens of 
 2.16014 +the writing of Doctor Manette. This is the writing of Doctor Manette. I 
 2.16015 +confide this paper, in the writing of Doctor Manette, to the hands of the 
 2.16016 +President." 
 2.16017 +
 2.16018 +"Let it be read." 
 2.16019 +
 2.16020 +In a dead silence and stillness - the prisoner under trial looking lov- 
 2.16021 +ingly at his wife, his wife only looking from him to look with solicitude 
 2.16022 +at her father, Doctor Manette keeping his eyes fixed on the reader, Ma- 
 2.16023 +dame Defarge never taking hers from the prisoner, Defarge never taking 
 2.16024 +his from his feasting wife, and all the other eyes there intent upon the 
 2.16025 +Doctor, who saw none of them - the paper was read, as follows. 
 2.16026 +
 2.16027 +
 2.16028 +
 2.16029 +316 
 2.16030 +
 2.16031 +
 2.16032 +
 2.16033 +Chapter 
 2.16034 +
 2.16035 +
 2.16036 +
 2.16037 +10 
 2.16038 +
 2.16039 +
 2.16040 +
 2.16041 +The Substance of the Shadow 
 2.16042 +
 2.16043 +"I, Alexandre Manette, unfortunate physician, native of Beauvais, and 
 2.16044 +afterwards resident in Paris, write this melancholy paper in my doleful 
 2.16045 +cell in the Bastille, during the last month of the year, 1767. I write it at 
 2.16046 +stolen intervals, under every difficulty. I design to secrete it in the wall of 
 2.16047 +the chimney, where I have slowly and laboriously made a place of con- 
 2.16048 +cealment for it. Some pitying hand may find it there, when I and my sor- 
 2.16049 +rows are dust. 
 2.16050 +
 2.16051 +"These words are formed by the rusty iron point with which I write 
 2.16052 +with difficulty in scrapings of soot and charcoal from the chimney, 
 2.16053 +mixed with blood, in the last month of the tenth year of my captivity. 
 2.16054 +Hope has quite departed from my breast. I know from terrible warnings 
 2.16055 +I have noted in myself that my reason will not long remain unimpaired, 
 2.16056 +but I solemnly declare that I am at this time in the possession of my right 
 2.16057 +mind - that my memory is exact and circumstantial - and that I write the 
 2.16058 +truth as I shall answer for these my last recorded words, whether they be 
 2.16059 +ever read by men or not, at the Eternal Judgment-seat. 
 2.16060 +
 2.16061 +"One cloudy moonlight night, in the third week of December (I think 
 2.16062 +the twenty-second of the month) in the year 1757, 1 was walking on a re- 
 2.16063 +tired part of the quay by the Seine for the refreshment of the frosty air, at 
 2.16064 +an hour's distance from my place of residence in the Street of the School 
 2.16065 +of Medicine, when a carriage came along behind me, driven very fast. As 
 2.16066 +I stood aside to let that carriage pass, apprehensive that it might other- 
 2.16067 +wise run me down, a head was put out at the window, and a voice called 
 2.16068 +to the driver to stop. 
 2.16069 +
 2.16070 +"The carriage stopped as soon as the driver could rein in his horses, 
 2.16071 +and the same voice called to me by my name. I answered. The carriage 
 2.16072 +was then so far in advance of me that two gentlemen had time to open 
 2.16073 +the door and alight before I came up with it. 
 2.16074 +
 2.16075 +
 2.16076 +
 2.16077 +317 
 2.16078 +
 2.16079 +
 2.16080 +
 2.16081 +I observed that they were both wrapped in cloaks, and appeared to 
 2.16082 +conceal themselves. As they stood side by side near the carriage door, I 
 2.16083 +also observed that they both looked of about my own age, or rather 
 2.16084 +younger, and that they were greatly alike, in stature, manner, voice, and 
 2.16085 +(as far as I could see) face too. 
 2.16086 +
 2.16087 +'"You are Doctor Manette?' said one. 
 2.16088 +
 2.16089 +"I am." 
 2.16090 +
 2.16091 +'"Doctor Manette, formerly of Beauvais,' said the other; 'the young 
 2.16092 +physician, originally an expert surgeon, who within the last year or two 
 2.16093 +has made a rising reputation in Paris?' 
 2.16094 +
 2.16095 +'"Gentlemen, 1 I returned, T am that Doctor Manette of whom you 
 2.16096 +speak so graciously.' 
 2.16097 +
 2.16098 +'"We have been to your residence,' said the first, 'and not being so for- 
 2.16099 +tunate as to find you there, and being informed that you were probably 
 2.16100 +walking in this direction, we followed, in the hope of overtaking you. 
 2.16101 +Will you please to enter the carriage?' 
 2.16102 +
 2.16103 +"The manner of both was imperious, and they both moved, as these 
 2.16104 +words were spoken, so as to place me between themselves and the car- 
 2.16105 +riage door. They were armed. I was not. 
 2.16106 +
 2.16107 +"'Gentlemen,' said I, 'pardon me; but I usually inquire who does me 
 2.16108 +the honour to seek my assistance, and what is the nature of the case to 
 2.16109 +which I am summoned.' 
 2.16110 +
 2.16111 +"The reply to this was made by him who had spoken second. 'Doctor, 
 2.16112 +your clients are people of condition. As to the nature of the case, our con- 
 2.16113 +fidence in your skill assures us that you will ascertain it for yourself bet- 
 2.16114 +ter than we can describe it. Enough. Will you please to enter the 
 2.16115 +carriage?' 
 2.16116 +
 2.16117 +"I could do nothing but comply, and I entered it in silence. They both 
 2.16118 +entered after me - the last springing in, after putting up the steps. The 
 2.16119 +carriage turned about, and drove on at its former speed. 
 2.16120 +
 2.16121 +"I repeat this conversation exactly as it occurred. I have no doubt that 
 2.16122 +it is, word for word, the same. I describe everything exactly as it took 
 2.16123 +place, constraining my mind not to wander from the task. Where I make 
 2.16124 +the broken marks that follow here, I leave off for the time, and put my 
 2.16125 +paper in its hiding-place. 
 2.16126 +
 2.16127 +* * * * 
 2.16128 +
 2.16129 +
 2.16130 +
 2.16131 +318 
 2.16132 +
 2.16133 +
 2.16134 +
 2.16135 +"The carriage left the streets behind, passed the North Barrier, and 
 2.16136 +emerged upon the country road. At two-thirds of a league from the Bar- 
 2.16137 +rier - I did not estimate the distance at that time, but afterwards when I 
 2.16138 +traversed it - it struck out of the main avenue, and presently stopped at a 
 2.16139 +solitary house, We all three alighted, and walked, by a damp soft foot- 
 2.16140 +path in a garden where a neglected fountain had overflowed, to the door 
 2.16141 +of the house. It was not opened immediately, in answer to the ringing of 
 2.16142 +the bell, and one of my two conductors struck the man who opened it, 
 2.16143 +with his heavy riding glove, across the face. 
 2.16144 +
 2.16145 +"There was nothing in this action to attract my particular attention, for 
 2.16146 +I had seen common people struck more commonly than dogs. But, the 
 2.16147 +other of the two, being angry likewise, struck the man in like manner 
 2.16148 +with his arm; the look and bearing of the brothers were then so exactly 
 2.16149 +alike, that I then first perceived them to be twin brothers. 
 2.16150 +
 2.16151 +"From the time of our alighting at the outer gate (which we found 
 2.16152 +locked, and which one of the brothers had opened to admit us, and had 
 2.16153 +relocked), I had heard cries proceeding from an upper chamber. I was 
 2.16154 +conducted to this chamber straight, the cries growing louder as we as- 
 2.16155 +cended the stairs, and I found a patient in a high fever of the brain, lying 
 2.16156 +on a bed. 
 2.16157 +
 2.16158 +"The patient was a woman of great beauty, and young; assuredly not 
 2.16159 +much past twenty. Her hair was torn and ragged, and her arms were 
 2.16160 +bound to her sides with sashes and handkerchiefs. I noticed that these 
 2.16161 +bonds were all portions of a gentleman's dress. On one of them, which 
 2.16162 +was a fringed scarf for a dress of ceremony, I saw the armorial bearings 
 2.16163 +of a Noble, and the letter E. 
 2.16164 +
 2.16165 +"I saw this, within the first minute of my contemplation of the patient; 
 2.16166 +for, in her restless strivings she had turned over on her face on the edge 
 2.16167 +of the bed, had drawn the end of the scarf into her mouth, and was in 
 2.16168 +danger of suffocation. My first act was to put out my hand to relieve her 
 2.16169 +breathing; and in moving the scarf aside, the embroidery in the corner 
 2.16170 +caught my sight. 
 2.16171 +
 2.16172 +"I turned her gently over, placed my hands upon her breast to calm 
 2.16173 +her and keep her down, and looked into her face. Her eyes were dilated 
 2.16174 +and wild, and she constantly uttered piercing shrieks, and repeated the 
 2.16175 +words, 'My husband, my father, and my brother!' and then counted up 
 2.16176 +to twelve, and said, 'Hush!' For an instant, and no more, she would 
 2.16177 +pause to listen, and then the piercing shrieks would begin again, and she 
 2.16178 +would repeat the cry, 'My husband, my father, and my brother!' and 
 2.16179 +
 2.16180 +
 2.16181 +
 2.16182 +319 
 2.16183 +
 2.16184 +
 2.16185 +
 2.16186 +would count up to twelve, and say, 'Hush!' There was no variation in the 
 2.16187 +order, or the manner. There was no cessation, but the regular moment's 
 2.16188 +pause, in the utterance of these sounds. 
 2.16189 +
 2.16190 +'"How long,' I asked, 'has this lasted?' 
 2.16191 +
 2.16192 +"To distinguish the brothers, I will call them the elder and the young- 
 2.16193 +er; by the elder, I mean him who exercised the most authority. It was the 
 2.16194 +elder who replied, 'Since about this hour last night.' 
 2.16195 +
 2.16196 +"'She has a husband, a father, and a brother?' 
 2.16197 +
 2.16198 +"'A brother.' 
 2.16199 +
 2.16200 +"T do not address her brother?' 
 2.16201 +
 2.16202 +"He answered with great contempt, 'No.' 
 2.16203 +
 2.16204 +"'She has some recent association with the number twelve?' 
 2.16205 +
 2.16206 +"The younger brother impatiently rejoined, 'With twelve o'clock?' 
 2.16207 +
 2.16208 +"'See, gentlemen,' said I, still keeping my hands upon her breast, 'how 
 2.16209 +useless I am, as you have brought me! If I had known what I was coming 
 2.16210 +to see, I could have come provided. As it is, time must be lost. There are 
 2.16211 +no medicines to be obtained in this lonely place.' 
 2.16212 +
 2.16213 +"The elder brother looked to the younger, who said haughtily, 'There 
 2.16214 +is a case of medicines here;' and brought it from a closet, and put it on 
 2.16215 +the table. 
 2.16216 +
 2.16217 +
 2.16218 +
 2.16219 +* * * * 
 2.16220 +
 2.16221 +
 2.16222 +
 2.16223 +"I opened some of the bottles, smelt them, and put the stoppers to my 
 2.16224 +lips. If I had wanted to use anything save narcotic medicines that were 
 2.16225 +poisons in themselves, I would not have administered any of those. 
 2.16226 +
 2.16227 +"'Do you doubt them?' asked the younger brother. 
 2.16228 +
 2.16229 +'"You see, monsieur, I am going to use them,' I replied, and said no 
 2.16230 +more. 
 2.16231 +
 2.16232 +"I made the patient swallow, with great difficulty, and after many ef- 
 2.16233 +forts, the dose that I desired to give. As I intended to repeat it after a 
 2.16234 +while, and as it was necessary to watch its influence, I then sat down by 
 2.16235 +the side of the bed. There was a timid and suppressed woman in attend- 
 2.16236 +ance (wife of the man down-stairs), who had retreated into a corner. The 
 2.16237 +house was damp and decayed, indifferently furnished - evidently, re- 
 2.16238 +cently occupied and temporarily used. Some thick old hangings had 
 2.16239 +been nailed up before the windows, to deaden the sound of the shrieks. 
 2.16240 +They continued to be uttered in their regular succession, with the cry, 
 2.16241 +'My husband, my father, and my brother!' the counting up to twelve, 
 2.16242 +
 2.16243 +
 2.16244 +
 2.16245 +320 
 2.16246 +
 2.16247 +
 2.16248 +
 2.16249 +and 'Hush!' The frenzy was so violent, that I had not unfastened the 
 2.16250 +bandages restraining the arms; but, I had looked to them, to see that they 
 2.16251 +were not painful. The only spark of encouragement in the case, was, that 
 2.16252 +my hand upon the sufferer's breast had this much soothing influence, 
 2.16253 +that for minutes at a time it tranquillised the figure. It had no effect upon 
 2.16254 +the cries; no pendulum could be more regular. 
 2.16255 +
 2.16256 +"For the reason that my hand had this effect (I assume), I had sat by 
 2.16257 +the side of the bed for half an hour, with the two brothers looking on, be- 
 2.16258 +fore the elder said: 
 2.16259 +
 2.16260 +"There is another patient.' 
 2.16261 +
 2.16262 +"I was startled, and asked, Ts it a pressing case?' 
 2.16263 +
 2.16264 +"'You had better see,' he carelessly answered; and took up a light. 
 2.16265 +* * * * 
 2.16266 +
 2.16267 +"The other patient lay in a back room across a second staircase, which 
 2.16268 +was a species of loft over a stable. There was a low plastered ceiling to a 
 2.16269 +part of it; the rest was open, to the ridge of the tiled roof, and there were 
 2.16270 +beams across. Hay and straw were stored in that portion of the place, 
 2.16271 +fagots for firing, and a heap of apples in sand. I had to pass through that 
 2.16272 +part, to get at the other. My memory is circumstantial and unshaken. I 
 2.16273 +try it with these details, and I see them all, in this my cell in the Bastille, 
 2.16274 +near the close of the tenth year of my captivity, as I saw them all that 
 2.16275 +night. 
 2.16276 +
 2.16277 +"On some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown under his head, 
 2.16278 +lay a handsome peasant boy - a boy of not more than seventeen at the 
 2.16279 +most. He lay on his back, with his teeth set, his right hand clenched on 
 2.16280 +his breast, and his glaring eyes looking straight upward. I could not see 
 2.16281 +where his wound was, as I kneeled on one knee over him; but, I could 
 2.16282 +see that he was dying of a wound from a sharp point. 
 2.16283 +
 2.16284 +"T am a doctor, my poor fellow,' said I. 'Let me examine it.' 
 2.16285 +
 2.16286 +"T do not want it examined,' he answered; 'let it be.' 
 2.16287 +
 2.16288 +"It was under his hand, and I soothed him to let me move his hand 
 2.16289 +away. The wound was a sword-thrust, received from twenty to twenty- 
 2.16290 +four hours before, but no skill could have saved him if it had been 
 2.16291 +looked to without delay. He was then dying fast. As I turned my eyes to 
 2.16292 +the elder brother, I saw him looking down at this handsome boy whose 
 2.16293 +life was ebbing out, as if he were a wounded bird, or hare, or rabbit; not 
 2.16294 +at all as if he were a fellow-creature. 
 2.16295 +
 2.16296 +"'How has this been done, monsieur?' said I. 
 2.16297 +
 2.16298 +
 2.16299 +
 2.16300 +321 
 2.16301 +
 2.16302 +
 2.16303 +
 2.16304 +"' 'A crazed young common dog! A serf! Forced my brother to draw 
 2.16305 +upon him, and has fallen by my brother's sword - like a gentleman.' 
 2.16306 +
 2.16307 +"There was no touch of pity, sorrow, or kindred humanity, in this an- 
 2.16308 +swer. The speaker seemed to acknowledge that it was inconvenient to 
 2.16309 +have that different order of creature dying there, and that it would have 
 2.16310 +been better if he had died in the usual obscure routine of his vermin 
 2.16311 +kind. He was quite incapable of any compassionate feeling about the 
 2.16312 +boy, or about his fate. 
 2.16313 +
 2.16314 +"The boy's eyes had slowly moved to him as he had spoken, and they 
 2.16315 +now slowly moved to me. 
 2.16316 +
 2.16317 +"'Doctor, they are very proud, these Nobles; but we common dogs are 
 2.16318 +proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but 
 2.16319 +we have a little pride left, sometimes. She - have you seen her, Doctor?' 
 2.16320 +
 2.16321 +"The shrieks and the cries were audible there, though subdued by the 
 2.16322 +distance. He referred to them, as if she were lying in our presence. 
 2.16323 +
 2.16324 +"I said, T have seen her.' 
 2.16325 +
 2.16326 +"'She is my sister, Doctor. They have had their shameful rights, these 
 2.16327 +Nobles, in the modesty and virtue of our sisters, many years, but we 
 2.16328 +have had good girls among us. I know it, and have heard my father say 
 2.16329 +so. She was a good girl. She was betrothed to a good young man, too: a 
 2.16330 +tenant of his. We were all tenants of his - that man's who stands there. 
 2.16331 +The other is his brother, the worst of a bad race.' 
 2.16332 +
 2.16333 +"It was with the greatest difficulty that the boy gathered bodily force 
 2.16334 +to speak; but, his spirit spoke with a dreadful emphasis. 
 2.16335 +
 2.16336 +"'We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common 
 2.16337 +dogs are by those superior Beings - taxed by him without mercy, obliged 
 2.16338 +to work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, ob- 
 2.16339 +liged to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and forbid- 
 2.16340 +den for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and 
 2.16341 +plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we 
 2.16342 +ate it in fear, with the door barred and the shutters closed, that his 
 2.16343 +people should not see it and take it from us - I say, we were so robbed, 
 2.16344 +and hunted, and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a 
 2.16345 +dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should 
 2.16346 +most pray for, was, that our women might be barren and our miserable 
 2.16347 +race die out!' 
 2.16348 +
 2.16349 +"I had never before seen the sense of being oppressed, bursting forth 
 2.16350 +like a fire. I had supposed that it must be latent in the people 
 2.16351 +
 2.16352 +
 2.16353 +
 2.16354 +322 
 2.16355 +
 2.16356 +
 2.16357 +
 2.16358 +somewhere; but, I had never seen it break out, until I saw it in the dying 
 2.16359 +boy. 
 2.16360 +
 2.16361 +"'Nevertheless, Doctor, my sister married. He was ailing at that time, 
 2.16362 +poor fellow, and she married her lover, that she might tend and comfort 
 2.16363 +him in our cottage - our dog-hut, as that man would call it. She had not 
 2.16364 +been married many weeks, when that man's brother saw her and ad- 
 2.16365 +mired her, and asked that man to lend her to him - for what are hus- 
 2.16366 +bands among us! He was willing enough, but my sister was good and 
 2.16367 +virtuous, and hated his brother with a hatred as strong as mine. What 
 2.16368 +did the two then, to persuade her husband to use his influence with her, 
 2.16369 +to make her willing?' 
 2.16370 +
 2.16371 +"The boy's eyes, which had been fixed on mine, slowly turned to the 
 2.16372 +looker-on, and I saw in the two faces that all he said was true. The two 
 2.16373 +opposing kinds of pride confronting one another, I can see, even in this 
 2.16374 +Bastille; the gentleman's, all negligent indifference; the peasants, all 
 2.16375 +trodden-down sentiment, and passionate revenge. 
 2.16376 +
 2.16377 +"'You know, Doctor, that it is among the Rights of these Nobles to har- 
 2.16378 +ness us common dogs to carts, and drive us. They so harnessed him and 
 2.16379 +drove him. You know that it is among their Rights to keep us in their 
 2.16380 +grounds all night, quieting the frogs, in order that their noble sleep may 
 2.16381 +not be disturbed. They kept him out in the unwholesome mists at night, 
 2.16382 +and ordered him back into his harness in the day. But he was not per- 
 2.16383 +suaded. No! Taken out of harness one day at noon, to feed - if he could 
 2.16384 +find food - he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the bell, and 
 2.16385 +died on her bosom.' 
 2.16386 +
 2.16387 +"Nothing human could have held life in the boy but his determination 
 2.16388 +to tell all his wrong. He forced back the gathering shadows of death, as 
 2.16389 +he forced his clenched right hand to remain clenched, and to cover his 
 2.16390 +wound. 
 2.16391 +
 2.16392 +"Then, with that man's permission and even with his aid, his brother 
 2.16393 +took her away; in spite of what I know she must have told his broth- 
 2.16394 +er - and what that is, will not be long unknown to you, Doctor, if it is 
 2.16395 +now - his brother took her away - for his pleasure and diversion, for a 
 2.16396 +little while. I saw her pass me on the road. When I took the tidings home, 
 2.16397 +our father's heart burst; he never spoke one of the words that filled it. I 
 2.16398 +took my young sister (for I have another) to a place beyond the reach of 
 2.16399 +this man, and where, at least, she will never be his vassal. Then, I tracked 
 2.16400 +the brother here, and last night climbed in - a common dog, but sword in 
 2.16401 +hand. - Where is the loft window? It was somewhere here?' 
 2.16402 +
 2.16403 +
 2.16404 +
 2.16405 +323 
 2.16406 +
 2.16407 +
 2.16408 +
 2.16409 +"The room was darkening to his sight; the world was narrowing 
 2.16410 +around him. I glanced about me, and saw that the hay and straw were 
 2.16411 +trampled over the floor, as if there had been a struggle. 
 2.16412 +
 2.16413 +"'She heard me, and ran in. I told her not to come near us till he was 
 2.16414 +dead. He came in and first tossed me some pieces of money; then struck 
 2.16415 +at me with a whip. But I, though a common dog, so struck at him as to 
 2.16416 +make him draw. Let him break into as many pieces as he will, the sword 
 2.16417 +that he stained with my common blood; he drew to defend him- 
 2.16418 +self - thrust at me with all his skill for his life.' 
 2.16419 +
 2.16420 +"My glance had fallen, but a few moments before, on the fragments of 
 2.16421 +a broken sword, lying among the hay. That weapon was a gentleman's. 
 2.16422 +In another place, lay an old sword that seemed to have been a soldier's. 
 2.16423 +
 2.16424 +"'Now, lift me up, Doctor; lift me up. Where is he?' 
 2.16425 +
 2.16426 +"'He is not here,' I said, supporting the boy, and thinking that he re- 
 2.16427 +ferred to the brother. 
 2.16428 +
 2.16429 +"'He! Proud as these nobles are, he is afraid to see me. Where is the 
 2.16430 +man who was here? turn my face to him.' 
 2.16431 +
 2.16432 +"I did so, raising the boy's head against my knee. But, invested for the 
 2.16433 +moment with extraordinary power, he raised himself completely: obli- 
 2.16434 +ging me to rise too, or I could not have still supported him. 
 2.16435 +
 2.16436 +"'Marquis,' said the boy, turned to him with his eyes opened wide, 
 2.16437 +and his right hand raised, 'in the days when all these things are to be 
 2.16438 +answered for, I summon you and yours, to the last of your bad race, to 
 2.16439 +answer for them. I mark this cross of blood upon you, as a sign that I do 
 2.16440 +it. In the days when all these things are to be answered for, I summon 
 2.16441 +your brother, the worst of the bad race, to answer for them separately. I 
 2.16442 +mark this cross of blood upon him, as a sign that I do it.' 
 2.16443 +
 2.16444 +"Twice, he put his hand to the wound in his breast, and with his fore- 
 2.16445 +finger drew a cross in the air. He stood for an instant with the finger yet 
 2.16446 +raised, and as it dropped, he dropped with it, and I laid him down dead. 
 2.16447 +
 2.16448 +* * * * 
 2.16449 +
 2.16450 +"When I returned to the bedside of the young woman, I found her rav- 
 2.16451 +ing in precisely the same order of continuity. I knew that this might last 
 2.16452 +for many hours, and that it would probably end in the silence of the 
 2.16453 +grave. 
 2.16454 +
 2.16455 +"I repeated the medicines I had given her, and I sat at the side of the 
 2.16456 +bed until the night was far advanced. She never abated the piercing qual- 
 2.16457 +ity of her shrieks, never stumbled in the distinctness or the order of her 
 2.16458 +
 2.16459 +
 2.16460 +
 2.16461 +324 
 2.16462 +
 2.16463 +
 2.16464 +
 2.16465 +words. They were always 'My husband, my father, and my brother! One, 
 2.16466 +two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Hush!' 
 2.16467 +
 2.16468 +"This lasted twenty-six hours from the time when I first saw her. I had 
 2.16469 +come and gone twice, and was again sitting by her, when she began to 
 2.16470 +falter. I did what little could be done to assist that opportunity, and by- 
 2.16471 +and-bye she sank into a lethargy, and lay like the dead. 
 2.16472 +
 2.16473 +"It was as if the wind and rain had lulled at last, after a long and fear- 
 2.16474 +ful storm. I released her arms, and called the woman to assist me to com- 
 2.16475 +pose her figure and the dress she had to. It was then that I knew her con- 
 2.16476 +dition to be that of one in whom the first expectations of being a mother 
 2.16477 +have arisen; and it was then that I lost the little hope I had had of her. 
 2.16478 +
 2.16479 +"Ts she dead?' asked the Marquis, whom I will still describe as the eld- 
 2.16480 +er brother, coming booted into the room from his horse. 
 2.16481 +
 2.16482 +"'Not dead/ said I; 'but like to die.' 
 2.16483 +
 2.16484 +"'What strength there is in these common bodies!' he said, looking 
 2.16485 +down at her with some curiosity. 
 2.16486 +
 2.16487 +"'There is prodigious strength/ I answered him, 'in sorrow and 
 2.16488 +despair.' 
 2.16489 +
 2.16490 +"He first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them. He moved 
 2.16491 +a chair with his foot near to mine, ordered the woman away, and said in 
 2.16492 +a subdued voice, 
 2.16493 +
 2.16494 +"'Doctor, finding my brother in this difficulty with these hinds, I re- 
 2.16495 +commended that your aid should be invited. Your reputation is high, 
 2.16496 +and, as a young man with your fortune to make, you are probably mind- 
 2.16497 +ful of your interest. The things that you see here, are things to be seen, 
 2.16498 +and not spoken of.' 
 2.16499 +
 2.16500 +"I listened to the patient's breathing, and avoided answering. 
 2.16501 +
 2.16502 +"'Do you honour me with your attention, Doctor?' 
 2.16503 +
 2.16504 +"'Monsieur,' said I, 'in my profession, the communications of patients 
 2.16505 +are always received in confidence.' I was guarded in my answer, for I 
 2.16506 +was troubled in my mind with what I had heard and seen. 
 2.16507 +
 2.16508 +"Her breathing was so difficult to trace, that I carefully tried the pulse 
 2.16509 +and the heart. There was life, and no more. Looking round as I resumed 
 2.16510 +my seat, I found both the brothers intent upon me. 
 2.16511 +
 2.16512 +
 2.16513 +
 2.16514 +* * * * 
 2.16515 +
 2.16516 +
 2.16517 +
 2.16518 +"I write with so much difficulty, the cold is so severe, I am so fearful of 
 2.16519 +being detected and consigned to an underground cell and total darkness, 
 2.16520 +
 2.16521 +
 2.16522 +
 2.16523 +325 
 2.16524 +
 2.16525 +
 2.16526 +
 2.16527 +that I must abridge this narrative. There is no confusion or failure in my 
 2.16528 +memory; it can recall, and could detail, every word that was ever spoken 
 2.16529 +between me and those brothers. 
 2.16530 +
 2.16531 +"She lingered for a week. Towards the last, I could understand some 
 2.16532 +few syllables that she said to me, by placing my ear close to her lips. She 
 2.16533 +asked me where she was, and I told her; who I was, and I told her. It was 
 2.16534 +in vain that I asked her for her family name. She faintly shook her head 
 2.16535 +upon the pillow, and kept her secret, as the boy had done. 
 2.16536 +
 2.16537 +"I had no opportunity of asking her any question, until I had told the 
 2.16538 +brothers she was sinking fast, and could not live another day. Until then, 
 2.16539 +though no one was ever presented to her consciousness save the woman 
 2.16540 +and myself, one or other of them had always jealously sat behind the 
 2.16541 +curtain at the head of the bed when I was there. But when it came to that, 
 2.16542 +they seemed careless what communication I might hold with her; as 
 2.16543 +if - the thought passed through my mind - I were dying too. 
 2.16544 +
 2.16545 +"I always observed that their pride bitterly resented the younger 
 2.16546 +brother's (as I call him) having crossed swords with a peasant, and that 
 2.16547 +peasant a boy. The only consideration that appeared to affect the mind of 
 2.16548 +either of them was the consideration that this was highly degrading to 
 2.16549 +the family, and was ridiculous. As often as I caught the younger broth- 
 2.16550 +er's eyes, their expression reminded me that he disliked me deeply, for 
 2.16551 +knowing what I knew from the boy. He was smoother and more polite to 
 2.16552 +me than the elder; but I saw this. I also saw that I was an incumbrance in 
 2.16553 +the mind of the elder, too. 
 2.16554 +
 2.16555 +"My patient died, two hours before midnight - at a time, by my watch, 
 2.16556 +answering almost to the minute when I had first seen her. I was alone 
 2.16557 +with her, when her forlorn young head drooped gently on one side, and 
 2.16558 +all her earthly wrongs and sorrows ended. 
 2.16559 +
 2.16560 +"The brothers were waiting in a room down-stairs, impatient to ride 
 2.16561 +away. I had heard them, alone at the bedside, striking their boots with 
 2.16562 +their riding- whips, and loitering up and down. 
 2.16563 +
 2.16564 +"'At last she is dead?' said the elder, when I went in. 
 2.16565 +
 2.16566 +"'She is dead,' said I. 
 2.16567 +
 2.16568 +"T congratulate you, my brother/were his words as he turned round. 
 2.16569 +
 2.16570 +"He had before offered me money, which I had postponed taking. He 
 2.16571 +now gave me a rouleau of gold. I took it from his hand, but laid it on the 
 2.16572 +table. I had considered the question, and had resolved to accept nothing. 
 2.16573 +
 2.16574 +"Tray excuse me,' said I. 'Under the circumstances, no.' 
 2.16575 +
 2.16576 +
 2.16577 +
 2.16578 +326 
 2.16579 +
 2.16580 +
 2.16581 +
 2.16582 +"They exchanged looks, but bent their heads to me as I bent mine to 
 2.16583 +them, and we parted without another word on either side. 
 2.16584 +
 2.16585 +
 2.16586 +
 2.16587 +* * * * 
 2.16588 +
 2.16589 +
 2.16590 +
 2.16591 +"I am weary, weary, weary-worn down by misery. I cannot read what 
 2.16592 +I have written with this gaunt hand. 
 2.16593 +
 2.16594 +"Early in the morning, the rouleau of gold was left at my door in a 
 2.16595 +little box, with my name on the outside. From the first, I had anxiously 
 2.16596 +considered what I ought to do. I decided, that day, to write privately to 
 2.16597 +the Minister, stating the nature of the two cases to which I had been 
 2.16598 +summoned, and the place to which I had gone: in effect, stating all the 
 2.16599 +circumstances. I knew what Court influence was, and what the immunit- 
 2.16600 +ies of the Nobles were, and I expected that the matter would never be 
 2.16601 +heard of; but, I wished to relieve my own mind. I had kept the matter a 
 2.16602 +profound secret, even from my wife; and this, too, I resolved to state in 
 2.16603 +my letter. I had no apprehension whatever of my real danger; but I was 
 2.16604 +conscious that there might be danger for others, if others were comprom- 
 2.16605 +ised by possessing the knowledge that I possessed. 
 2.16606 +
 2.16607 +"I was much engaged that day, and could not complete my letter that 
 2.16608 +night. I rose long before my usual time next morning to finish it. It was 
 2.16609 +the last day of the year. The letter was lying before me just completed, 
 2.16610 +when I was told that a lady waited, who wished to see me. 
 2.16611 +
 2.16612 +
 2.16613 +
 2.16614 +* * * * 
 2.16615 +
 2.16616 +
 2.16617 +
 2.16618 +"I am growing more and more unequal to the task I have set myself. It 
 2.16619 +is so cold, so dark, my senses are so benumbed, and the gloom upon me 
 2.16620 +is so dreadful. 
 2.16621 +
 2.16622 +"The lady was young, engaging, and handsome, but not marked for 
 2.16623 +long life. She was in great agitation. She presented herself to me as the 
 2.16624 +wife of the Marquis St. Evremonde. I connected the title by which the 
 2.16625 +boy had addressed the elder brother, with the initial letter embroidered 
 2.16626 +on the scarf, and had no difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that I had 
 2.16627 +seen that nobleman very lately. 
 2.16628 +
 2.16629 +"My memory is still accurate, but I cannot write the words of our con- 
 2.16630 +versation. I suspect that I am watched more closely than I was, and I 
 2.16631 +know not at what times I may be watched. She had in part suspected, 
 2.16632 +and in part discovered, the main facts of the cruel story, of her husband's 
 2.16633 +share in it, and my being resorted to. She did not know that the girl was 
 2.16634 +dead. Her hope had been, she said in great distress, to show her, in 
 2.16635 +
 2.16636 +
 2.16637 +
 2.16638 +327 
 2.16639 +
 2.16640 +
 2.16641 +
 2.16642 +secret, a woman's sympathy. Her hope had been to avert the wrath of 
 2.16643 +Heaven from a House that had long been hateful to the suffering many. 
 2.16644 +
 2.16645 +"She had reasons for believing that there was a young sister living, 
 2.16646 +and her greatest desire was, to help that sister. I could tell her nothing 
 2.16647 +but that there was such a sister; beyond that, I knew nothing. Her in- 
 2.16648 +ducement to come to me, relying on my confidence, had been the hope 
 2.16649 +that I could tell her the name and place of abode. Whereas, to this 
 2.16650 +wretched hour I am ignorant of both. 
 2.16651 +
 2.16652 +
 2.16653 +
 2.16654 +* * * * 
 2.16655 +
 2.16656 +
 2.16657 +
 2.16658 +"These scraps of paper fail me. One was taken from me, with a warn- 
 2.16659 +ing, yesterday. I must finish my record to-day. 
 2.16660 +
 2.16661 +"She was a good, compassionate lady, and not happy in her marriage. 
 2.16662 +How could she be! The brother distrusted and disliked her, and his influ- 
 2.16663 +ence was all opposed to her; she stood in dread of him, and in dread of 
 2.16664 +her husband too. When I handed her down to the door, there was a 
 2.16665 +child, a pretty boy from two to three years old, in her carriage. 
 2.16666 +
 2.16667 +"'For his sake, Doctor/ she said, pointing to him in tears, T would do 
 2.16668 +all I can to make what poor amends I can. He will never prosper in his 
 2.16669 +inheritance otherwise. I have a presentiment that if no other innocent 
 2.16670 +atonement is made for this, it will one day be required of him. What I 
 2.16671 +have left to call my own - it is little beyond the worth of a few jewels - I 
 2.16672 +will make it the first charge of his life to bestow, with the compassion 
 2.16673 +and lamenting of his dead mother, on this injured family, if the sister can 
 2.16674 +be discovered.' 
 2.16675 +
 2.16676 +"She kissed the boy, and said, caressing him, Tt is for thine own dear 
 2.16677 +sake. Thou wilt be faithful, little Charles?' The child answered her 
 2.16678 +bravely, 'Yes!' I kissed her hand, and she took him in her arms, and went 
 2.16679 +away caressing him. I never saw her more. 
 2.16680 +
 2.16681 +"As she had mentioned her husband's name in the faith that I knew it, 
 2.16682 +I added no mention of it to my letter. I sealed my letter, and, not trusting 
 2.16683 +it out of my own hands, delivered it myself that day. 
 2.16684 +
 2.16685 +"That night, the last night of the year, towards nine o'clock, a man in a 
 2.16686 +black dress rang at my gate, demanded to see me, and softly followed 
 2.16687 +my servant, Ernest Defarge, a youth, up-stairs. When my servant came 
 2.16688 +into the room where I sat with my wife - O my wife, beloved of my 
 2.16689 +heart! My fair young English wife! - we saw the man, who was sup- 
 2.16690 +posed to be at the gate, standing silent behind him. 
 2.16691 +
 2.16692 +
 2.16693 +
 2.16694 +328 
 2.16695 +
 2.16696 +
 2.16697 +
 2.16698 +"An urgent case in the Rue St. Honore, he said. It would not detain 
 2.16699 +me, he had a coach in waiting. 
 2.16700 +
 2.16701 +"It brought me here, it brought me to my grave. When I was clear of 
 2.16702 +the house, a black muffler was drawn tightly over my mouth from be- 
 2.16703 +hind, and my arms were pinioned. The two brothers crossed the road 
 2.16704 +from a dark corner, and identified me with a single gesture. The Marquis 
 2.16705 +took from his pocket the letter I had written, showed it me, burnt it in the 
 2.16706 +light of a lantern that was held, and extinguished the ashes with his foot. 
 2.16707 +Not a word was spoken. I was brought here, I was brought to my living 
 2.16708 +grave. 
 2.16709 +
 2.16710 +"If it had pleased God to put it in the hard heart of either of the broth- 
 2.16711 +ers, in all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my dearest 
 2.16712 +wife - so much as to let me know by a word whether alive or dead - I 
 2.16713 +might have thought that He had not quite abandoned them. But, now I 
 2.16714 +believe that the mark of the red cross is fatal to them, and that they have 
 2.16715 +no part in His mercies. And them and their descendants, to the last of 
 2.16716 +their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy prisoner, do this last night of 
 2.16717 +the year 1767, in my unbearable agony, denounce to the times when all 
 2.16718 +these things shall be answered for. I denounce them to Heaven and to 
 2.16719 +earth." 
 2.16720 +
 2.16721 +A terrible sound arose when the reading of this document was done. A 
 2.16722 +sound of craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate in it but 
 2.16723 +blood. The narrative called up the most revengeful passions of the time, 
 2.16724 +and there was not a head in the nation but must have dropped before it. 
 2.16725 +
 2.16726 +Little need, in presence of that tribunal and that auditory, to show how 
 2.16727 +the Defarges had not made the paper public, with the other captured 
 2.16728 +Bastille memorials borne in procession, and had kept it, biding their 
 2.16729 +time. Little need to show that this detested family name had long been 
 2.16730 +anathematised by Saint Antoine, and was wrought into the fatal register. 
 2.16731 +The man never trod ground whose virtues and services would have sus- 
 2.16732 +tained him in that place that day, against such denunciation. 
 2.16733 +
 2.16734 +And all the worse for the doomed man, that the denouncer was a well- 
 2.16735 +known citizen, his own attached friend, the father of his wife. One of the 
 2.16736 +frenzied aspirations of the populace was, for imitations of the question- 
 2.16737 +able public virtues of antiquity, and for sacrifices and self-immolations 
 2.16738 +on the people's altar. Therefore when the President said (else had his 
 2.16739 +own head quivered on his shoulders), that the good physician of the Re- 
 2.16740 +public would deserve better still of the Republic by rooting out an ob- 
 2.16741 +noxious family of Aristocrats, and would doubtless feel a sacred glow 
 2.16742 +
 2.16743 +
 2.16744 +
 2.16745 +329 
 2.16746 +
 2.16747 +
 2.16748 +
 2.16749 +and joy in making his daughter a widow and her child an orphan, there 
 2.16750 +was wild excitement, patriotic fervour, not a touch of human sympathy. 
 2.16751 +
 2.16752 +"Much influence around him, has that Doctor?" murmured Madame 
 2.16753 +Defarge, smiling to The Vengeance. "Save him now, my Doctor, save 
 2.16754 +him!" 
 2.16755 +
 2.16756 +At every juryman's vote, there was a roar. Another and another. Roar 
 2.16757 +and roar. 
 2.16758 +
 2.16759 +Unanimously voted. At heart and by descent an Aristocrat, an enemy 
 2.16760 +of the Republic, a notorious oppressor of the People. Back to the Concier- 
 2.16761 +gerie, and Death within four-and- twenty hours! 
 2.16762 +
 2.16763 +
 2.16764 +
 2.16765 +330 
 2.16766 +
 2.16767 +
 2.16768 +
 2.16769 +Chapter 
 2.16770 +
 2.16771 +
 2.16772 +
 2.16773 +Dusk 
 2.16774 +
 2.16775 +
 2.16776 +
 2.16777 +11 
 2.16778 +
 2.16779 +
 2.16780 +
 2.16781 +The wretched wife of the innocent man thus doomed to die, fell under 
 2.16782 +the sentence, as if she had been mortally stricken. But, she uttered no 
 2.16783 +sound; and so strong was the voice within her, representing that it was 
 2.16784 +she of all the world who must uphold him in his misery and not aug- 
 2.16785 +ment it, that it quickly raised her, even from that shock. 
 2.16786 +
 2.16787 +The Judges having to take part in a public demonstration out of doors, 
 2.16788 +the Tribunal adjourned. The quick noise and movement of the court's 
 2.16789 +emptying itself by many passages had not ceased, when Lucie stood 
 2.16790 +stretching out her arms towards her husband, with nothing in her face 
 2.16791 +but love and consolation. 
 2.16792 +
 2.16793 +"If I might touch him! If I might embrace him once! O, good citizens, if 
 2.16794 +you would have so much compassion for us!" 
 2.16795 +
 2.16796 +There was but a gaoler left, along with two of the four men who had 
 2.16797 +taken him last night, and Barsad. The people had all poured out to the 
 2.16798 +show in the streets. Barsad proposed to the rest, "Let her embrace him 
 2.16799 +then; it is but a moment." It was silently acquiesced in, and they passed 
 2.16800 +her over the seats in the hall to a raised place, where he, by leaning over 
 2.16801 +the dock, could fold her in his arms. 
 2.16802 +
 2.16803 +"Farewell, dear darling of my soul. My parting blessing on my love. 
 2.16804 +We shall meet again, where the weary are at rest!" 
 2.16805 +
 2.16806 +They were her husband's words, as he held her to his bosom. 
 2.16807 +
 2.16808 +"I can bear it, dear Charles. I am supported from above: don't suffer 
 2.16809 +for me. A parting blessing for our child." 
 2.16810 +
 2.16811 +"I send it to her by you. I kiss her by you. I say farewell to her by you." 
 2.16812 +
 2.16813 +"My husband. No! A moment!" He was tearing himself apart from 
 2.16814 +her. "We shall not be separated long. I feel that this will break my heart 
 2.16815 +by-and-bye; but I will do my duty while I can, and when I leave her, God 
 2.16816 +will raise up friends for her, as He did for me." 
 2.16817 +
 2.16818 +
 2.16819 +
 2.16820 +331 
 2.16821 +
 2.16822 +
 2.16823 +
 2.16824 +Her father had followed her, and would have fallen on his knees to 
 2.16825 +both of them, but that Darnay put out a hand and seized him, crying: 
 2.16826 +
 2.16827 +"No, no! What have you done, what have you done, that you should 
 2.16828 +kneel to us! We know now, what a struggle you made of old. We know, 
 2.16829 +now what you underwent when you suspected my descent, and when 
 2.16830 +you knew it. We know now, the natural antipathy you strove against, 
 2.16831 +and conquered, for her dear sake. We thank you with all our hearts, and 
 2.16832 +all our love and duty. Heaven be with you!" 
 2.16833 +
 2.16834 +Her father's only answer was to draw his hands through his white 
 2.16835 +hair, and wring them with a shriek of anguish. 
 2.16836 +
 2.16837 +"It could not be otherwise," said the prisoner. "All things have worked 
 2.16838 +together as they have fallen out. it was the always-vain endeavour to dis- 
 2.16839 +charge my poor mother's trust that first brought my fatal presence near 
 2.16840 +you. Good could never come of such evil, a happier end was not in 
 2.16841 +nature to so unhappy a beginning. Be comforted, and forgive me. 
 2.16842 +Heaven bless you!" 
 2.16843 +
 2.16844 +As he was drawn away, his wife released him, and stood looking after 
 2.16845 +him with her hands touching one another in the attitude of prayer, and 
 2.16846 +with a radiant look upon her face, in which there was even a comforting 
 2.16847 +smile. As he went out at the prisoners' door, she turned, laid her head 
 2.16848 +lovingly on her father's breast, tried to speak to him, and fell at his feet. 
 2.16849 +
 2.16850 +Then, issuing from the obscure corner from which he had never 
 2.16851 +moved, Sydney Carton came and took her up. Only her father and Mr. 
 2.16852 +Lorry were with her. His arm trembled as it raised her, and supported 
 2.16853 +her head. Yet, there was an air about him that was not all of pity - that 
 2.16854 +had a flush of pride in it. 
 2.16855 +
 2.16856 +"Shall I take her to a coach? I shall never feel her weight." 
 2.16857 +
 2.16858 +He carried her lightly to the door, and laid her tenderly down in a 
 2.16859 +coach. Her father and their old friend got into it, and he took his seat be- 
 2.16860 +side the driver. 
 2.16861 +
 2.16862 +When they arrived at the gateway where he had paused in the dark 
 2.16863 +not many hours before, to picture to himself on which of the rough 
 2.16864 +stones of the street her feet had trodden, he lifted her again, and carried 
 2.16865 +her up the staircase to their rooms. There, he laid her down on a couch, 
 2.16866 +where her child and Miss Pross wept over her. 
 2.16867 +
 2.16868 +"Don't recall her to herself," he said, softly, to the latter, "she is better 
 2.16869 +so. Don't revive her to consciousness, while she only faints." 
 2.16870 +
 2.16871 +
 2.16872 +
 2.16873 +332 
 2.16874 +
 2.16875 +
 2.16876 +
 2.16877 +"Oh, Carton, Carton, dear Carton!" cried little Lucie, springing up and 
 2.16878 +throwing her arms passionately round him, in a burst of grief. "Now that 
 2.16879 +you have come, I think you will do something to help mamma, 
 2.16880 +something to save papa! O, look at her, dear Carton! Can you, of all the 
 2.16881 +people who love her, bear to see her so?" 
 2.16882 +
 2.16883 +He bent over the child, and laid her blooming cheek against his face. 
 2.16884 +He put her gently from him, and looked at her unconscious mother. 
 2.16885 +
 2.16886 +"Before I go," he said, and paused - "I may kiss her?" 
 2.16887 +
 2.16888 +It was remembered afterwards that when he bent down and touched 
 2.16889 +her face with his lips, he murmured some words. The child, who was 
 2.16890 +nearest to him, told them afterwards, and told her grandchildren when 
 2.16891 +she was a handsome old lady, that she heard him say, "A life you love." 
 2.16892 +
 2.16893 +When he had gone out into the next room, he turned suddenly on Mr. 
 2.16894 +Lorry and her father, who were following, and said to the latter: 
 2.16895 +
 2.16896 +"You had great influence but yesterday, Doctor Manette; let it at least 
 2.16897 +be tried. These judges, and all the men in power, are very friendly to 
 2.16898 +you, and very recognisant of your services; are they not?" 
 2.16899 +
 2.16900 +"Nothing connected with Charles was concealed from me. I had the 
 2.16901 +strongest assurances that I should save him; and I did." He returned the 
 2.16902 +answer in great trouble, and very slowly. 
 2.16903 +
 2.16904 +"Try them again. The hours between this and to-morrow afternoon are 
 2.16905 +few and short, but try." 
 2.16906 +
 2.16907 +"\ intend to try. I will not rest a moment." 
 2.16908 +
 2.16909 +"That's well. I have known such energy as yours do great things be- 
 2.16910 +fore now - though never," he added, with a smile and a sigh together, 
 2.16911 +"such great things as this. But try! Of little worth as life is when we mis- 
 2.16912 +use it, it is worth that effort. It would cost nothing to lay down if it were 
 2.16913 +not." 
 2.16914 +
 2.16915 +"I will go," said Doctor Manette, "to the Prosecutor and the President 
 2.16916 +straight, and I will go to others whom it is better not to name. I will write 
 2.16917 +too, and - But stay! There is a Celebration in the streets, and no one will 
 2.16918 +be accessible until dark." 
 2.16919 +
 2.16920 +"That's true. Well! It is a forlorn hope at the best, and not much the 
 2.16921 +forlorner for being delayed till dark. I should like to know how you 
 2.16922 +speed; though, mind! I expect nothing! When are you likely to have seen 
 2.16923 +these dread powers, Doctor Manette?" 
 2.16924 +
 2.16925 +
 2.16926 +
 2.16927 +333 
 2.16928 +
 2.16929 +
 2.16930 +
 2.16931 +"Immediately after dark, I should hope. Within an hour or two from 
 2.16932 +this." 
 2.16933 +
 2.16934 +"It will be dark soon after four. Let us stretch the hour or two. If I go to 
 2.16935 +Mr. Lorry's at nine, shall I hear what you have done, either from our 
 2.16936 +friend or from yourself?" 
 2.16937 +
 2.16938 +"Yes." 
 2.16939 +
 2.16940 +"May you prosper!" 
 2.16941 +
 2.16942 +Mr. Lorry followed Sydney to the outer door, and, touching him on 
 2.16943 +the shoulder as he was going away, caused him to turn. 
 2.16944 +
 2.16945 +"I have no hope," said Mr. Lorry, in a low and sorrowful whisper. 
 2.16946 +
 2.16947 +"Nor have I." 
 2.16948 +
 2.16949 +"If any one of these men, or all of these men, were disposed to spare 
 2.16950 +him - which is a large supposition; for what is his life, or any man's to 
 2.16951 +them! - I doubt if they durst spare him after the demonstration in the 
 2.16952 +court." 
 2.16953 +
 2.16954 +"And so do 1. 1 heard the fall of the axe in that sound." 
 2.16955 +
 2.16956 +Mr. Lorry leaned his arm upon the door-post, and bowed his face 
 2.16957 +upon it. 
 2.16958 +
 2.16959 +"Don't despond," said Carton, very gently; "don't grieve. I encour- 
 2.16960 +aged Doctor Manette in this idea, because I felt that it might one day be 
 2.16961 +consolatory to her. Otherwise, she might think 'his life was want only 
 2.16962 +thrown away or wasted,' and that might trouble her." 
 2.16963 +
 2.16964 +"Yes, yes, yes," returned Mr. Lorry, drying his eyes, "you are right. 
 2.16965 +But he will perish; there is no real hope." 
 2.16966 +
 2.16967 +"Yes. He will perish: there is no real hope," echoed Carton. 
 2.16968 +
 2.16969 +And walked with a settled step, down-stairs. 
 2.16970 +
 2.16971 +
 2.16972 +
 2.16973 +334 
 2.16974 +
 2.16975 +
 2.16976 +
 2.16977 +Chapter 
 2.16978 +
 2.16979 +
 2.16980 +
 2.16981 +12 
 2.16982 +
 2.16983 +
 2.16984 +
 2.16985 +Darkness 
 2.16986 +
 2.16987 +Sydney Carton paused in the street, not quite decided where to go. "At 
 2.16988 +Tellson's banking-house at nine," he said, with a musing face. "Shall I do 
 2.16989 +well, in the mean time, to show myself? I think so. It is best that these 
 2.16990 +people should know there is such a man as I here; it is a sound precau- 
 2.16991 +tion, and may be a necessary preparation. But care, care, care! Let me 
 2.16992 +think it out!" 
 2.16993 +
 2.16994 +Checking his steps which had begun to tend towards an object, he 
 2.16995 +took a turn or two in the already darkening street, and traced the 
 2.16996 +thought in his mind to its possible consequences. His first impression 
 2.16997 +was confirmed. "It is best," he said, finally resolved, "that these people 
 2.16998 +should know there is such a man as I here." And he turned his face to- 
 2.16999 +wards Saint Antoine. 
 2.17000 +
 2.17001 +Defarge had described himself, that day, as the keeper of a wine-shop 
 2.17002 +in the Saint Antoine suburb. It was not difficult for one who knew the 
 2.17003 +city well, to find his house without asking any question. Having ascer- 
 2.17004 +tained its situation, Carton came out of those closer streets again, and 
 2.17005 +dined at a place of refreshment and fell sound asleep after dinner. For 
 2.17006 +the first time in many years, he had no strong drink. Since last night he 
 2.17007 +had taken nothing but a little light thin wine, and last night he had 
 2.17008 +dropped the brandy slowly down on Mr. Lorry's hearth like a man who 
 2.17009 +had done with it. 
 2.17010 +
 2.17011 +It was as late as seven o'clock when he awoke refreshed, and went out 
 2.17012 +into the streets again. As he passed along towards Saint Antoine, he 
 2.17013 +stopped at a shop-window where there was a mirror, and slightly altered 
 2.17014 +the disordered arrangement of his loose cravat, and his coat-collar, and 
 2.17015 +his wild hair. This done, he went on direct to Defarge's, and went in. 
 2.17016 +
 2.17017 +There happened to be no customer in the shop but Jacques Three, of 
 2.17018 +the restless fingers and the croaking voice. This man, whom he had seen 
 2.17019 +upon the Jury, stood drinking at the little counter, in conversation with 
 2.17020 +
 2.17021 +
 2.17022 +
 2.17023 +335 
 2.17024 +
 2.17025 +
 2.17026 +
 2.17027 +the Defarges, man and wife. The Vengeance assisted in the conversation, 
 2.17028 +like a regular member of the establishment. 
 2.17029 +
 2.17030 +As Carton walked in, took his seat and asked (in very indifferent 
 2.17031 +French) for a small measure of wine, Madame Defarge cast a careless 
 2.17032 +glance at him, and then a keener, and then a keener, and then advanced 
 2.17033 +to him herself, and asked him what it was he had ordered. 
 2.17034 +
 2.17035 +He repeated what he had already said. 
 2.17036 +
 2.17037 +"English?" asked Madame Defarge, inquisitively raising her dark 
 2.17038 +eyebrows. 
 2.17039 +
 2.17040 +After looking at her, as if the sound of even a single French word were 
 2.17041 +slow to express itself to him, he answered, in his former strong foreign 
 2.17042 +accent. "Yes, madame, yes. I am English!" 
 2.17043 +
 2.17044 +Madame Defarge returned to her counter to get the wine, and, as he 
 2.17045 +took up a Jacobin journal and feigned to pore over it puzzling out its 
 2.17046 +meaning, he heard her say, "I swear to you, like Evremonde!" 
 2.17047 +
 2.17048 +Defarge brought him the wine, and gave him Good Evening. 
 2.17049 +
 2.17050 +"How?" 
 2.17051 +
 2.17052 +"Good evening." 
 2.17053 +
 2.17054 +"Oh! Good evening, citizen," filling his glass. "Ah! and good wine. I 
 2.17055 +drink to the Republic." 
 2.17056 +
 2.17057 +Defarge went back to the counter, and said, "Certainly, a little like." 
 2.17058 +Madame sternly retorted, "I tell you a good deal like." Jacques Three pa- 
 2.17059 +cifically remarked, "He is so much in your mind, see you, madame." The 
 2.17060 +amiable Vengeance added, with a laugh, "Yes, my faith! And you are 
 2.17061 +looking forward with so much pleasure to seeing him once more to- 
 2.17062 +morrow!" 
 2.17063 +
 2.17064 +Carton followed the lines and words of his paper, with a slow fore- 
 2.17065 +finger, and with a studious and absorbed face. They were all leaning 
 2.17066 +their arms on the counter close together, speaking low. After a silence of 
 2.17067 +a few moments, during which they all looked towards him without dis- 
 2.17068 +turbing his outward attention from the Jacobin editor, they resumed 
 2.17069 +their conversation. 
 2.17070 +
 2.17071 +"It is true what madame says," observed Jacques Three. "Why stop? 
 2.17072 +There is great force in that. Why stop?" 
 2.17073 +
 2.17074 +"Well, well," reasoned Defarge, "but one must stop somewhere. After 
 2.17075 +all, the question is still where?" 
 2.17076 +
 2.17077 +"At extermination," said madame. 
 2.17078 +
 2.17079 +
 2.17080 +
 2.17081 +336 
 2.17082 +
 2.17083 +
 2.17084 +
 2.17085 +"Magnificent!" croaked Jacques Three. The Vengeance, also, highly 
 2.17086 +approved. 
 2.17087 +
 2.17088 +"Extermination is good doctrine, my wife," said Defarge, rather 
 2.17089 +troubled; "in general, I say nothing against it. But this Doctor has 
 2.17090 +suffered much; you have seen him to-day; you have observed his face 
 2.17091 +when the paper was read." 
 2.17092 +
 2.17093 +"I have observed his face!" repeated madame, contemptuously and an- 
 2.17094 +grily. "Yes. I have observed his face. I have observed his face to be not 
 2.17095 +the face of a true friend of the Republic. Let him take care of his face!" 
 2.17096 +
 2.17097 +"And you have observed, my wife," said Defarge, in a deprecatory 
 2.17098 +manner, "the anguish of his daughter, which must be a dreadful anguish 
 2.17099 +to him!" 
 2.17100 +
 2.17101 +"I have observed his daughter," repeated madame; "yes, I have ob- 
 2.17102 +served his daughter, more times than one. I have observed her to-day, 
 2.17103 +and I have observed her other days. I have observed her in the court, and 
 2.17104 +I have observed her in the street by the prison. Let me but lift my fin- 
 2.17105 +ger - !" She seemed to raise it (the listener's eyes were always on his pa- 
 2.17106 +per), and to let it fall with a rattle on the ledge before her, as if the axe 
 2.17107 +had dropped. 
 2.17108 +
 2.17109 +"The citizeness is superb!" croaked the Juryman. 
 2.17110 +
 2.17111 +"She is an Angel!" said The Vengeance, and embraced her. 
 2.17112 +
 2.17113 +"As to thee," pursued madame, implacably, addressing her husband, 
 2.17114 +"if it depended on thee - which, happily, it does not - thou wouldst res- 
 2.17115 +cue this man even now." 
 2.17116 +
 2.17117 +"No!" protested Defarge. "Not if to lift this glass would do it! But I 
 2.17118 +would leave the matter there. I say, stop there." 
 2.17119 +
 2.17120 +"See you then, Jacques," said Madame Defarge, wrathfully; "and see 
 2.17121 +you, too, my little Vengeance; see you both! Listen! For other crimes as 
 2.17122 +tyrants and oppressors, I have this race a long time on my register, 
 2.17123 +doomed to destruction and extermination. Ask my husband, is that so." 
 2.17124 +
 2.17125 +"It is so," assented Defarge, without being asked. 
 2.17126 +
 2.17127 +"In the beginning of the great days, when the Bastille falls, he finds 
 2.17128 +this paper of to-day, and he brings it home, and in the middle of the 
 2.17129 +night when this place is clear and shut, we read it, here on this spot, by 
 2.17130 +the light of this lamp. Ask him, is that so." 
 2.17131 +
 2.17132 +"It is so," assented Defarge. 
 2.17133 +
 2.17134 +
 2.17135 +
 2.17136 +337 
 2.17137 +
 2.17138 +
 2.17139 +
 2.17140 +"That night, I tell him, when the paper is read through, and the lamp is 
 2.17141 +burnt out, and the day is gleaming in above those shutters and between 
 2.17142 +those iron bars, that I have now a secret to communicate. Ask him, is that 
 2.17143 +
 2.17144 +so." 
 2.17145 +
 2.17146 +"It is so," assented Defarge again. 
 2.17147 +
 2.17148 +"I communicate to him that secret. I smite this bosom with these two 
 2.17149 +hands as I smite it now, and I tell him, 'Defarge, I was brought up among 
 2.17150 +the fishermen of the sea-shore, and that peasant family so injured by the 
 2.17151 +two Evremonde brothers, as that Bastille paper describes, is my family. 
 2.17152 +Defarge, that sister of the mortally wounded boy upon the ground was 
 2.17153 +my sister, that husband was my sister's husband, that unborn child was 
 2.17154 +their child, that brother was my brother, that father was my father, those 
 2.17155 +dead are my dead, and that summons to answer for those things des- 
 2.17156 +cends to me!' Ask him, is that so." 
 2.17157 +
 2.17158 +"It is so," assented Defarge once more. 
 2.17159 +
 2.17160 +"Then tell Wind and Fire where to stop," returned madame; "but don't 
 2.17161 +tell me." 
 2.17162 +
 2.17163 +Both her hearers derived a horrible enjoyment from the deadly nature 
 2.17164 +of her wrath - the listener could feel how white she was, without seeing 
 2.17165 +her - and both highly commended it. Defarge, a weak minority, inter- 
 2.17166 +posed a few words for the memory of the compassionate wife of the 
 2.17167 +Marquis; but only elicited from his own wife a repetition of her last 
 2.17168 +reply. "Tell the Wind and the Fire where to stop; not me!" 
 2.17169 +
 2.17170 +Customers entered, and the group was broken up. The English cus- 
 2.17171 +tomer paid for what he had had, perplexedly counted his change, and 
 2.17172 +asked, as a stranger, to be directed towards the National Palace. Madame 
 2.17173 +Defarge took him to the door, and put her arm on his, in pointing out the 
 2.17174 +road. The English customer was not without his reflexions then, that it 
 2.17175 +might be a good deed to seize that arm, lift it, and strike under it sharp 
 2.17176 +and deep. 
 2.17177 +
 2.17178 +But, he went his way, and was soon swallowed up in the shadow of 
 2.17179 +the prison wall. At the appointed hour, he emerged from it to present 
 2.17180 +himself in Mr. Lorry's room again, where he found the old gentleman 
 2.17181 +walking to and fro in restless anxiety. He said he had been with Lucie 
 2.17182 +until just now, and had only left her for a few minutes, to come and keep 
 2.17183 +his appointment. Her father had not been seen, since he quitted the 
 2.17184 +banking-house towards four o'clock. She had some faint hopes that his 
 2.17185 +mediation might save Charles, but they were very slight. He had been 
 2.17186 +more than five hours gone: where could he be? 
 2.17187 +
 2.17188 +
 2.17189 +
 2.17190 +338 
 2.17191 +
 2.17192 +
 2.17193 +
 2.17194 +Mr. Lorry waited until ten; but, Doctor Manette not returning, and he 
 2.17195 +being unwilling to leave Lucie any longer, it was arranged that he should 
 2.17196 +go back to her, and come to the banking-house again at midnight. In the 
 2.17197 +meanwhile, Carton would wait alone by the fire for the Doctor. 
 2.17198 +
 2.17199 +He waited and waited, and the clock struck twelve; but Doctor 
 2.17200 +Manette did not come back. Mr. Lorry returned, and found no tidings of 
 2.17201 +him, and brought none. Where could he be? 
 2.17202 +
 2.17203 +They were discussing this question, and were almost building up 
 2.17204 +some weak structure of hope on his prolonged absence, when they heard 
 2.17205 +him on the stairs. The instant he entered the room, it was plain that all 
 2.17206 +was lost. 
 2.17207 +
 2.17208 +Whether he had really been to any one, or whether he had been all that 
 2.17209 +time traversing the streets, was never known. As he stood staring at 
 2.17210 +them, they asked him no question, for his face told them everything. 
 2.17211 +
 2.17212 +"I cannot find it," said he, "and I must have it. Where is it?" 
 2.17213 +
 2.17214 +His head and throat were bare, and, as he spoke with a helpless look 
 2.17215 +straying all around, he took his coat off, and let it drop on the floor. 
 2.17216 +
 2.17217 +"Where is my bench? I have been looking everywhere for my bench, 
 2.17218 +and I can't find it. What have they done with my work? Time presses: I 
 2.17219 +must finish those shoes." 
 2.17220 +
 2.17221 +They looked at one another, and their hearts died within them. 
 2.17222 +
 2.17223 +"Come, come!" said he, in a whimpering miserable way; "let me get to 
 2.17224 +work. Give me my work." 
 2.17225 +
 2.17226 +Receiving no answer, he tore his hair, and beat his feet upon the 
 2.17227 +ground, like a distracted child. 
 2.17228 +
 2.17229 +"Don't torture a poor forlorn wretch," he implored them, with a 
 2.17230 +dreadful cry; "but give me my work! What is to become of us, if those 
 2.17231 +shoes are not done to-night?" 
 2.17232 +
 2.17233 +Lost, utterly lost! 
 2.17234 +
 2.17235 +It was so clearly beyond hope to reason with him, or try to restore him, 
 2.17236 +that - as if by agreement - they each put a hand upon his shoulder, and 
 2.17237 +soothed him to sit down before the fire, with a promise that he should 
 2.17238 +have his work presently. He sank into the chair, and brooded over the 
 2.17239 +embers, and shed tears. As if all that had happened since the garret time 
 2.17240 +were a momentary fancy, or a dream, Mr. Lorry saw him shrink into the 
 2.17241 +exact figure that Defarge had had in keeping. 
 2.17242 +
 2.17243 +
 2.17244 +
 2.17245 +339 
 2.17246 +
 2.17247 +
 2.17248 +
 2.17249 +Affected, and impressed with terror as they both were, by this spec- 
 2.17250 +tacle of ruin, it was not a time to yield to such emotions. His lonely 
 2.17251 +daughter, bereft of her final hope and reliance, appealed to them both 
 2.17252 +too strongly. Again, as if by agreement, they looked at one another with 
 2.17253 +one meaning in their faces. Carton was the first to speak: 
 2.17254 +
 2.17255 +"The last chance is gone: it was not much. Yes; he had better be taken 
 2.17256 +to her. But, before you go, will you, for a moment, steadily attend to me? 
 2.17257 +Don't ask me why I make the stipulations I am going to make, and exact 
 2.17258 +the promise I am going to exact; I have a reason - a good one." 
 2.17259 +
 2.17260 +"I do not doubt it," answered Mr. Lorry. "Say on." 
 2.17261 +
 2.17262 +The figure in the chair between them, was all the time monotonously 
 2.17263 +rocking itself to and fro, and moaning. They spoke in such a tone as they 
 2.17264 +would have used if they had been watching by a sick-bed in the night. 
 2.17265 +
 2.17266 +Carton stooped to pick up the coat, which lay almost entangling his 
 2.17267 +feet. As he did so, a small case in which the Doctor was accustomed to 
 2.17268 +carry the lists of his day's duties, fell lightly on the floor. Carton took it 
 2.17269 +up, and there was a folded paper in it. "We should look at this!" he said. 
 2.17270 +Mr. Lorry nodded his consent. He opened it, and exclaimed, "Thank 
 2.17271 +God!" 
 2.17272 +
 2.17273 +"What is it?" asked Mr. Lorry, eagerly. 
 2.17274 +
 2.17275 +"A moment! Let me speak of it in its place. First," he put his hand in 
 2.17276 +his coat, and took another paper from it, "that is the certificate which en- 
 2.17277 +ables me to pass out of this city. Look at it. You see - Sydney Carton, an 
 2.17278 +Englishman?" 
 2.17279 +
 2.17280 +Mr. Lorry held it open in his hand, gazing in his earnest face. 
 2.17281 +
 2.17282 +"Keep it for me until to-morrow. I shall see him to-morrow, you re- 
 2.17283 +member, and I had better not take it into the prison." 
 2.17284 +
 2.17285 +"Why not?" 
 2.17286 +
 2.17287 +"I don't know; I prefer not to do so. Now, take this paper that Doctor 
 2.17288 +Manette has carried about him. It is a similar certificate, enabling him 
 2.17289 +and his daughter and her child, at any time, to pass the barrier and the 
 2.17290 +frontier! You see?" 
 2.17291 +
 2.17292 +"Yes!" 
 2.17293 +
 2.17294 +"Perhaps he obtained it as his last and utmost precaution against evil, 
 2.17295 +yesterday. When is it dated? But no matter; don't stay to look; put it up 
 2.17296 +carefully with mine and your own. Now, observe! I never doubted until 
 2.17297 +within this hour or two, that he had, or could have such a paper. It is 
 2.17298 +
 2.17299 +
 2.17300 +
 2.17301 +340 
 2.17302 +
 2.17303 +
 2.17304 +
 2.17305 +good, until recalled. But it may be soon recalled, and, I have reason to 
 2.17306 +think, will be." 
 2.17307 +
 2.17308 +"They are not in danger?" 
 2.17309 +
 2.17310 +"They are in great danger. They are in danger of denunciation by Ma- 
 2.17311 +dame Defarge. I know it from her own lips. I have overheard words of 
 2.17312 +that woman's, to-night, which have presented their danger to me in 
 2.17313 +strong colours. I have lost no time, and since then, I have seen the spy. 
 2.17314 +He confirms me. He knows that a wood-sawyer, living by the prison 
 2.17315 +wall, is under the control of the Defarges, and has been rehearsed by Ma- 
 2.17316 +dame Defarge as to his having seen Her" - he never mentioned Lucie's 
 2.17317 +name - "making signs and signals to prisoners. It is easy to foresee that 
 2.17318 +the pretence will be the common one, a prison plot, and that it will in- 
 2.17319 +volve her life - and perhaps her child's - and perhaps her father's - for 
 2.17320 +both have been seen with her at that place. Don't look so horrified. You 
 2.17321 +will save them all." 
 2.17322 +
 2.17323 +"Heaven grant I may, Carton! But how?" 
 2.17324 +
 2.17325 +"I am going to tell you how. It will depend on you, and it could de- 
 2.17326 +pend on no better man. This new denunciation will certainly not take 
 2.17327 +place until after to-morrow; probably not until two or three days after- 
 2.17328 +wards; more probably a week afterwards. You know it is a capital crime, 
 2.17329 +to mourn for, or sympathise with, a victim of the Guillotine. She and her 
 2.17330 +father would unquestionably be guilty of this crime, and this woman 
 2.17331 +(the inveteracy of whose pursuit cannot be described) would wait to add 
 2.17332 +that strength to her case, and make herself doubly sure. You follow me?" 
 2.17333 +
 2.17334 +"So attentively, and with so much confidence in what you say, that for 
 2.17335 +the moment I lose sight," touching the back of the Doctor's chair, even of 
 2.17336 +this distress." 
 2.17337 +
 2.17338 +"You have money, and can buy the means of travelling to the seacoast 
 2.17339 +as quickly as the journey can be made. Your preparations have been 
 2.17340 +completed for some days, to return to England. Early to-morrow have 
 2.17341 +your horses ready, so that they may be in starting trim at two o'clock in 
 2.17342 +the afternoon." 
 2.17343 +
 2.17344 +"It shall be done!" 
 2.17345 +
 2.17346 +His manner was so fervent and inspiring, that Mr. Lorry caught the 
 2.17347 +flame, and was as quick as youth. 
 2.17348 +
 2.17349 +"You are a noble heart. Did I say we could depend upon no better 
 2.17350 +man? Tell her, to-night, what you know of her danger as involving her 
 2.17351 +child and her father. Dwell upon that, for she would lay her own fair 
 2.17352 +
 2.17353 +
 2.17354 +
 2.17355 +341 
 2.17356 +
 2.17357 +
 2.17358 +
 2.17359 +head beside her husband's cheerfully." He faltered for an instant; then 
 2.17360 +went on as before. "For the sake of her child and her father, press upon 
 2.17361 +her the necessity of leaving Paris, with them and you, at that hour. Tell 
 2.17362 +her that it was her husband's last arrangement. Tell her that more de- 
 2.17363 +pends upon it than she dare believe, or hope. You think that her father, 
 2.17364 +even in this sad state, will submit himself to her; do you not?" 
 2.17365 +
 2.17366 +"I am sure of it." 
 2.17367 +
 2.17368 +"I thought so. Quietly and steadily have all these arrangements made 
 2.17369 +in the courtyard here, even to the taking of your own seat in the carriage. 
 2.17370 +The moment I come to you, take me in, and drive away." 
 2.17371 +
 2.17372 +"I understand that I wait for you under all circumstances?" 
 2.17373 +
 2.17374 +"You have my certificate in your hand with the rest, you know, and 
 2.17375 +will reserve my place. Wait for nothing but to have my place occupied, 
 2.17376 +and then for England!" 
 2.17377 +
 2.17378 +"Why, then," said Mr. Lorry, grasping his eager but so firm and steady 
 2.17379 +hand, "it does not all depend on one old man, but I shall have a young 
 2.17380 +and ardent man at my side." 
 2.17381 +
 2.17382 +"By the help of Heaven you shall! Promise me solemnly that nothing 
 2.17383 +will influence you to alter the course on which we now stand pledged to 
 2.17384 +one another." 
 2.17385 +
 2.17386 +"Nothing, Carton." 
 2.17387 +
 2.17388 +"Remember these words to-morrow: change the course, or delay in 
 2.17389 +it - for any reason - and no life can possibly be saved, and many lives 
 2.17390 +must inevitably be sacrificed." 
 2.17391 +
 2.17392 +"I will remember them. I hope to do my part faithfully." 
 2.17393 +
 2.17394 +"And I hope to do mine. Now, good bye!" 
 2.17395 +
 2.17396 +Though he said it with a grave smile of earnestness, and though he 
 2.17397 +even put the old man's hand to his lips, he did not part from him then. 
 2.17398 +He helped him so far to arouse the rocking figure before the dying em- 
 2.17399 +bers, as to get a cloak and hat put upon it, and to tempt it forth to find 
 2.17400 +where the bench and work were hidden that it still moaningly besought 
 2.17401 +to have. He walked on the other side of it and protected it to the court- 
 2.17402 +yard of the house where the afflicted heart - so happy in the memorable 
 2.17403 +time when he had revealed his own desolate heart to it - outwatched the 
 2.17404 +awful night. He entered the courtyard and remained there for a few mo- 
 2.17405 +ments alone, looking up at the light in the window of her room. Before 
 2.17406 +he went away, he breathed a blessing towards it, and a Farewell. 
 2.17407 +
 2.17408 +
 2.17409 +
 2.17410 +342 
 2.17411 +
 2.17412 +
 2.17413 +
 2.17414 +Chapter 
 2.17415 +
 2.17416 +
 2.17417 +
 2.17418 +13 
 2.17419 +
 2.17420 +
 2.17421 +
 2.17422 +Fifty-two 
 2.17423 +
 2.17424 +In the black prison of the Conciergerie, the doomed of the day awaited 
 2.17425 +their fate. They were in number as the weeks of the year. Fifty-two were 
 2.17426 +to roll that afternoon on the life-tide of the city to the boundless everlast- 
 2.17427 +ing sea. Before their cells were quit of them, new occupants were appoin- 
 2.17428 +ted; before their blood ran into the blood spilled yesterday, the blood 
 2.17429 +that was to mingle with theirs to-morrow was already set apart. 
 2.17430 +
 2.17431 +Two score and twelve were told off. From the farmer-general of sev- 
 2.17432 +enty, whose riches could not buy his life, to the seamstress of twenty, 
 2.17433 +whose poverty and obscurity could not save her. Physical diseases, en- 
 2.17434 +gendered in the vices and neglects of men, will seize on victims of all de- 
 2.17435 +grees; and the frightful moral disorder, born of unspeakable suffering, 
 2.17436 +intolerable oppression, and heartless indifference, smote equally without 
 2.17437 +distinction. 
 2.17438 +
 2.17439 +Charles Darnay, alone in a cell, had sustained himself with no flatter- 
 2.17440 +ing delusion since he came to it from the Tribunal. In every line of the 
 2.17441 +narrative he had heard, he had heard his condemnation. He had fully 
 2.17442 +comprehended that no personal influence could possibly save him, that 
 2.17443 +he was virtually sentenced by the millions, and that units could avail 
 2.17444 +him nothing. 
 2.17445 +
 2.17446 +Nevertheless, it was not easy, with the face of his beloved wife fresh 
 2.17447 +before him, to compose his mind to what it must bear. His hold on life 
 2.17448 +was strong, and it was very, very hard, to loosen; by gradual efforts and 
 2.17449 +degrees unclosed a little here, it clenched the tighter there; and when he 
 2.17450 +brought his strength to bear on that hand and it yielded, this was closed 
 2.17451 +again. There was a hurry, too, in all his thoughts, a turbulent and heated 
 2.17452 +working of his heart, that contended against resignation. If, for a mo- 
 2.17453 +ment, he did feel resigned, then his wife and child who had to live after 
 2.17454 +him, seemed to protest and to make it a selfish thing. 
 2.17455 +
 2.17456 +
 2.17457 +
 2.17458 +343 
 2.17459 +
 2.17460 +
 2.17461 +
 2.17462 +But, all this was at first. Before long, the consideration that there was 
 2.17463 +no disgrace in the fate he must meet, and that numbers went the same 
 2.17464 +road wrongfully, and trod it firmly every day, sprang up to stimulate 
 2.17465 +him. Next followed the thought that much of the future peace of mind 
 2.17466 +enjoyable by the dear ones, depended on his quiet fortitude. So, by de- 
 2.17467 +grees he calmed into the better state, when he could raise his thoughts 
 2.17468 +much higher, and draw comfort down. 
 2.17469 +
 2.17470 +Before it had set in dark on the night of his condemnation, he had trav- 
 2.17471 +elled thus far on his last way. Being allowed to purchase the means of 
 2.17472 +writing, and a light, he sat down to write until such time as the prison 
 2.17473 +lamps should be extinguished. 
 2.17474 +
 2.17475 +He wrote a long letter to Lucie, showing her that he had known noth- 
 2.17476 +ing of her father's imprisonment, until he had heard of it from herself, 
 2.17477 +and that he had been as ignorant as she of his father's and uncle's re- 
 2.17478 +sponsibility for that misery, until the paper had been read. He had 
 2.17479 +already explained to her that his concealment from herself of the name 
 2.17480 +he had relinquished, was the one condition - fully intelligible now - that 
 2.17481 +her father had attached to their betrothal, and was the one promise he 
 2.17482 +had still exacted on the morning of their marriage. He entreated her, for 
 2.17483 +her father's sake, never to seek to know whether her father had become 
 2.17484 +oblivious of the existence of the paper, or had had it recalled to him (for 
 2.17485 +the moment, or for good), by the story of the Tower, on that old Sunday 
 2.17486 +under the dear old plane-tree in the garden. If he had preserved any def- 
 2.17487 +inite remembrance of it, there could be no doubt that he had supposed it 
 2.17488 +destroyed with the Bastille, when he had found no mention of it among 
 2.17489 +the relics of prisoners which the populace had discovered there, and 
 2.17490 +which had been described to all the world. He besought her - though he 
 2.17491 +added that he knew it was needless - to console her father, by impress- 
 2.17492 +ing him through every tender means she could think of, with the truth 
 2.17493 +that he had done nothing for which he could justly reproach himself, but 
 2.17494 +had uniformly forgotten himself for their joint sakes. Next to her preser- 
 2.17495 +vation of his own last grateful love and blessing, and her overcoming of 
 2.17496 +her sorrow, to devote herself to their dear child, he adjured her, as they 
 2.17497 +would meet in Heaven, to comfort her father. 
 2.17498 +
 2.17499 +To her father himself, he wrote in the same strain; but, he told her fath- 
 2.17500 +er that he expressly confided his wife and child to his care. And he told 
 2.17501 +him this, very strongly, with the hope of rousing him from any despond- 
 2.17502 +ency or dangerous retrospect towards which he foresaw he might be 
 2.17503 +tending. 
 2.17504 +
 2.17505 +
 2.17506 +
 2.17507 +344 
 2.17508 +
 2.17509 +
 2.17510 +
 2.17511 +To Mr. Lorry, he commended them all, and explained his worldly af- 
 2.17512 +fairs. That done, with many added sentences of grateful friendship and 
 2.17513 +warm attachment, all was done. He never thought of Carton. His mind 
 2.17514 +was so full of the others, that he never once thought of him. 
 2.17515 +
 2.17516 +He had time to finish these letters before the lights were put out. When 
 2.17517 +he lay down on his straw bed, he thought he had done with this world. 
 2.17518 +
 2.17519 +But, it beckoned him back in his sleep, and showed itself in shining 
 2.17520 +forms. Free and happy, back in the old house in Soho (though it had 
 2.17521 +nothing in it like the real house), unaccountably released and light of 
 2.17522 +heart, he was with Lucie again, and she told him it was all a dream, and 
 2.17523 +he had never gone away. A pause of forgetfulness, and then he had even 
 2.17524 +suffered, and had come back to her, dead and at peace, and yet there was 
 2.17525 +no difference in him. Another pause of oblivion, and he awoke in the 
 2.17526 +sombre morning, unconscious where he was or what had happened, un- 
 2.17527 +til it flashed upon his mind, "this is the day of my death!" 
 2.17528 +
 2.17529 +Thus, had he come through the hours, to the day when the fifty-two 
 2.17530 +heads were to fall. And now, while he was composed, and hoped that he 
 2.17531 +could meet the end with quiet heroism, a new action began in his waking 
 2.17532 +thoughts, which was very difficult to master. 
 2.17533 +
 2.17534 +He had never seen the instrument that was to terminate his life. How 
 2.17535 +high it was from the ground, how many steps it had, where he would be 
 2.17536 +stood, how he would be touched, whether the touching hands would be 
 2.17537 +dyed red, which way his face would be turned, whether he would be the 
 2.17538 +first, or might be the last: these and many similar questions, in nowise 
 2.17539 +directed by his will, obtruded themselves over and over again, countless 
 2.17540 +times. Neither were they connected with fear: he was conscious of no 
 2.17541 +fear. Rather, they originated in a strange besetting desire to know what 
 2.17542 +to do when the time came; a desire gigantically disproportionate to the 
 2.17543 +few swift moments to which it referred; a wondering that was more like 
 2.17544 +the wondering of some other spirit within his, than his own. 
 2.17545 +
 2.17546 +The hours went on as he walked to and fro, and the clocks struck the 
 2.17547 +numbers he would never hear again. Nine gone for ever, ten gone for 
 2.17548 +ever, eleven gone for ever, twelve coming on to pass away. After a hard 
 2.17549 +contest with that eccentric action of thought which had last perplexed 
 2.17550 +him, he had got the better of it. He walked up and down, softly repeating 
 2.17551 +their names to himself. The worst of the strife was over. He could walk 
 2.17552 +up and down, free from distracting fancies, praying for himself and for 
 2.17553 +them. 
 2.17554 +
 2.17555 +Twelve gone for ever. 
 2.17556 +
 2.17557 +
 2.17558 +
 2.17559 +345 
 2.17560 +
 2.17561 +
 2.17562 +
 2.17563 +He had been apprised that the final hour was Three, and he knew he 
 2.17564 +would be summoned some time earlier, inasmuch as the tumbrils jolted 
 2.17565 +heavily and slowly through the streets. Therefore, he resolved to keep 
 2.17566 +Two before his mind, as the hour, and so to strengthen himself in the in- 
 2.17567 +terval that he might be able, after that time, to strengthen others. 
 2.17568 +
 2.17569 +Walking regularly to and fro with his arms folded on his breast, a very 
 2.17570 +different man from the prisoner, who had walked to and fro at La Force, 
 2.17571 +he heard One struck away from him, without surprise. The hour had 
 2.17572 +measured like most other hours. Devoutly thankful to Heaven for his 
 2.17573 +recovered self-possession, he thought, "There is but another now," and 
 2.17574 +turned to walk again. 
 2.17575 +
 2.17576 +Footsteps in the stone passage outside the door. He stopped. 
 2.17577 +
 2.17578 +The key was put in the lock, and turned. Before the door was opened, 
 2.17579 +or as it opened, a man said in a low voice, in English: "He has never seen 
 2.17580 +me here; I have kept out of his way. Go you in alone; I wait near. Lose no 
 2.17581 +time!" 
 2.17582 +
 2.17583 +The door was quickly opened and closed, and there stood before him 
 2.17584 +face to face, quiet, intent upon him, with the light of a smile on his fea- 
 2.17585 +tures, and a cautionary finger on his lip, Sydney Carton. 
 2.17586 +
 2.17587 +There was something so bright and remarkable in his look, that, for the 
 2.17588 +first moment, the prisoner misdoubted him to be an apparition of his 
 2.17589 +own imagining. But, he spoke, and it was his voice; he took the prison- 
 2.17590 +er's hand, and it was his real grasp. 
 2.17591 +
 2.17592 +"Of all the people upon earth, you least expected to see me?" he said. 
 2.17593 +
 2.17594 +"I could not believe it to be you. I can scarcely believe it now. You are 
 2.17595 +not" - the apprehension came suddenly into his mind - "a prisoner?" 
 2.17596 +
 2.17597 +"No. I am accidentally possessed of a power over one of the keepers 
 2.17598 +here, and in virtue of it I stand before you. I come from her - your wife, 
 2.17599 +dear Darnay." 
 2.17600 +
 2.17601 +The prisoner wrung his hand. 
 2.17602 +
 2.17603 +"I bring you a request from her." 
 2.17604 +
 2.17605 +"What is it?" 
 2.17606 +
 2.17607 +"A most earnest, pressing, and emphatic entreaty, addressed to you in 
 2.17608 +the most pathetic tones of the voice so dear to you, that you well 
 2.17609 +remember." 
 2.17610 +
 2.17611 +The prisoner turned his face partly aside. 
 2.17612 +
 2.17613 +
 2.17614 +
 2.17615 +346 
 2.17616 +
 2.17617 +
 2.17618 +
 2.17619 +"You have no time to ask me why I bring it, or what it means; I have 
 2.17620 +no time to tell you. You must comply with it - take off those boots you 
 2.17621 +wear, and draw on these of mine." 
 2.17622 +
 2.17623 +There was a chair against the wall of the cell, behind the prisoner. Car- 
 2.17624 +ton, pressing forward, had already, with the speed of lightning, got him 
 2.17625 +down into it, and stood over him, barefoot. 
 2.17626 +
 2.17627 +"Draw on these boots of mine. Put your hands to them; put your will 
 2.17628 +to them. Quick!" 
 2.17629 +
 2.17630 +"Carton, there is no escaping from this place; it never can be done. You 
 2.17631 +will only die with me. It is madness." 
 2.17632 +
 2.17633 +"It would be madness if I asked you to escape; but do I? When I ask 
 2.17634 +you to pass out at that door, tell me it is madness and remain here. 
 2.17635 +Change that cravat for this of mine, that coat for this of mine. While you 
 2.17636 +do it, let me take this ribbon from your hair, and shake out your hair like 
 2.17637 +this of mine!" 
 2.17638 +
 2.17639 +With wonderful quickness, and with a strength both of will and action, 
 2.17640 +that appeared quite supernatural, he forced all these changes upon him. 
 2.17641 +The prisoner was like a young child in his hands. 
 2.17642 +
 2.17643 +"Carton! Dear Carton! It is madness. It cannot be accomplished, it nev- 
 2.17644 +er can be done, it has been attempted, and has always failed. I implore 
 2.17645 +you not to add your death to the bitterness of mine." 
 2.17646 +
 2.17647 +"Do I ask you, my dear Darnay, to pass the door? When I ask that, re- 
 2.17648 +fuse. There are pen and ink and paper on this table. Is your hand steady 
 2.17649 +enough to write?" 
 2.17650 +
 2.17651 +"It was when you came in." 
 2.17652 +
 2.17653 +"Steady it again, and write what I shall dictate. Quick, friend, quick!" 
 2.17654 +
 2.17655 +Pressing his hand to his bewildered head, Darnay sat down at the 
 2.17656 +table. Carton, with his right hand in his breast, stood close beside him. 
 2.17657 +
 2.17658 +"Write exactly as I speak." 
 2.17659 +
 2.17660 +"To whom do I address it?" 
 2.17661 +
 2.17662 +"To no one." Carton still had his hand in his breast. 
 2.17663 +
 2.17664 +"Do I date it?" 
 2.17665 +
 2.17666 +"No." 
 2.17667 +
 2.17668 +The prisoner looked up, at each question. Carton, standing over him 
 2.17669 +with his hand in his breast, looked down. 
 2.17670 +
 2.17671 +
 2.17672 +
 2.17673 +347 
 2.17674 +
 2.17675 +
 2.17676 +
 2.17677 +"'If you remember/" said Carton, dictating, '"the words that passed 
 2.17678 +between us, long ago, you will readily comprehend this when you see it. 
 2.17679 +You do remember them, I know. It is not in your nature to forget them.'" 
 2.17680 +
 2.17681 +He was drawing his hand from his breast; the prisoner chancing to 
 2.17682 +look up in his hurried wonder as he wrote, the hand stopped, closing 
 2.17683 +upon something. 
 2.17684 +
 2.17685 +"Have you written 'forget them'?" Carton asked. 
 2.17686 +
 2.17687 +"I have. Is that a weapon in your hand?" 
 2.17688 +
 2.17689 +"No; I am not armed." 
 2.17690 +
 2.17691 +"What is it in your hand?" 
 2.17692 +
 2.17693 +"You shall know directly. Write on; there are but a few words more." 
 2.17694 +He dictated again. '"I am thankful that the time has come, when I can 
 2.17695 +prove them. That I do so is no subject for regret or grief.'" As he said 
 2.17696 +these words with his eyes fixed on the writer, his hand slowly and softly 
 2.17697 +moved down close to the writer's face. 
 2.17698 +
 2.17699 +The pen dropped from Darnay's fingers on the table, and he looked 
 2.17700 +about him vacantly. 
 2.17701 +
 2.17702 +"What vapour is that?" he asked. 
 2.17703 +
 2.17704 +"Vapour?" 
 2.17705 +
 2.17706 +"Something that crossed me?" 
 2.17707 +
 2.17708 +"I am conscious of nothing; there can be nothing here. Take up the pen 
 2.17709 +and finish. Hurry, hurry!" 
 2.17710 +
 2.17711 +As if his memory were impaired, or his faculties disordered, the pris- 
 2.17712 +oner made an effort to rally his attention. As he looked at Carton with 
 2.17713 +clouded eyes and with an altered manner of breathing, Carton - his hand 
 2.17714 +again in his breast - looked steadily at him. 
 2.17715 +
 2.17716 +"Hurry, hurry!" 
 2.17717 +
 2.17718 +The prisoner bent over the paper, once more. 
 2.17719 +
 2.17720 +"Tf it had been otherwise;'" Carton's hand was again watchfully and 
 2.17721 +softly stealing down; "T never should have used the longer opportunity. 
 2.17722 +If it had been otherwise;'" the hand was at the prisoner's face; "T should 
 2.17723 +but have had so much the more to answer for. If it had been other- 
 2.17724 +wise - '" Carton looked at the pen and saw it was trailing off into unin- 
 2.17725 +telligible signs. 
 2.17726 +
 2.17727 +Carton's hand moved back to his breast no more. The prisoner sprang 
 2.17728 +up with a reproachful look, but Carton's hand was close and firm at his 
 2.17729 +
 2.17730 +
 2.17731 +
 2.17732 +348 
 2.17733 +
 2.17734 +
 2.17735 +
 2.17736 +nostrils, and Carton's left arm caught him round the waist. For a few 
 2.17737 +seconds he faintly struggled with the man who had come to lay down 
 2.17738 +his life for him; but, within a minute or so, he was stretched insensible on 
 2.17739 +the ground. 
 2.17740 +
 2.17741 +Quickly, but with hands as true to the purpose as his heart was, Car- 
 2.17742 +ton dressed himself in the clothes the prisoner had laid aside, combed 
 2.17743 +back his hair, and tied it with the ribbon the prisoner had worn. Then, he 
 2.17744 +softly called, "Enter there! Come in!" and the Spy presented himself. 
 2.17745 +
 2.17746 +"You see?" said Carton, looking up, as he kneeled on one knee beside 
 2.17747 +the insensible figure, putting the paper in the breast: "is your hazard 
 2.17748 +very great?" 
 2.17749 +
 2.17750 +"Mr. Carton," the Spy answered, with a timid snap of his fingers, "my 
 2.17751 +hazard is not that, in the thick of business here, if you are true to the 
 2.17752 +whole of your bargain." 
 2.17753 +
 2.17754 +"Don't fear me. I will be true to the death." 
 2.17755 +
 2.17756 +"You must be, Mr. Carton, if the tale of fifty-two is to be right. Being 
 2.17757 +made right by you in that dress, I shall have no fear." 
 2.17758 +
 2.17759 +"Have no fear! I shall soon be out of the way of harming you, and the 
 2.17760 +rest will soon be far from here, please God! Now, get assistance and take 
 2.17761 +me to the coach." 
 2.17762 +
 2.17763 +"You?" said the Spy nervously. 
 2.17764 +
 2.17765 +"Him, man, with whom I have exchanged. You go out at the gate by 
 2.17766 +which you brought me in?" 
 2.17767 +
 2.17768 +"Of course." 
 2.17769 +
 2.17770 +"I was weak and faint when you brought me in, and I am fainter now 
 2.17771 +you take me out. The parting interview has overpowered me. Such a 
 2.17772 +thing has happened here, often, and too often. Your life is in your own 
 2.17773 +hands. Quick! Call assistance!" 
 2.17774 +
 2.17775 +"You swear not to betray me?" said the trembling Spy, as he paused 
 2.17776 +for a last moment. 
 2.17777 +
 2.17778 +"Man, man!" returned Carton, stamping his foot; "have I sworn by no 
 2.17779 +solemn vow already, to go through with this, that you waste the precious 
 2.17780 +moments now? Take him yourself to the courtyard you know of, place 
 2.17781 +him yourself in the carriage, show him yourself to Mr. Lorry, tell him 
 2.17782 +yourself to give him no restorative but air, and to remember my words 
 2.17783 +of last night, and his promise of last night, and drive away!" 
 2.17784 +
 2.17785 +
 2.17786 +
 2.17787 +349 
 2.17788 +
 2.17789 +
 2.17790 +
 2.17791 +The Spy withdrew, and Carton seated himself at the table, resting his 
 2.17792 +forehead on his hands. The Spy returned immediately, with two men. 
 2.17793 +
 2.17794 +"How, then?" said one of them, contemplating the fallen figure. "So af- 
 2.17795 +flicted to find that his friend has drawn a prize in the lottery of Sainte 
 2.17796 +Guillotine?" 
 2.17797 +
 2.17798 +"A good patriot," said the other, "could hardly have been more afflic- 
 2.17799 +ted if the Aristocrat had drawn a blank." 
 2.17800 +
 2.17801 +They raised the unconscious figure, placed it on a litter they had 
 2.17802 +brought to the door, and bent to carry it away. 
 2.17803 +
 2.17804 +"The time is short, Evremonde," said the Spy, in a warning voice. 
 2.17805 +
 2.17806 +"I know it well," answered Carton. "Be careful of my friend, I entreat 
 2.17807 +you, and leave me." 
 2.17808 +
 2.17809 +"Come, then, my children," said Barsad. "Lift him, and come away!" 
 2.17810 +
 2.17811 +The door closed, and Carton was left alone. Straining his powers of 
 2.17812 +listening to the utmost, he listened for any sound that might denote sus- 
 2.17813 +picion or alarm. There was none. Keys turned, doors clashed, footsteps 
 2.17814 +passed along distant passages: no cry was raised, or hurry made, that 
 2.17815 +seemed unusual. Breathing more freely in a little while, he sat down at 
 2.17816 +the table, and listened again until the clock struck Two. 
 2.17817 +
 2.17818 +Sounds that he was not afraid of, for he divined their meaning, then 
 2.17819 +began to be audible. Several doors were opened in succession, and fi- 
 2.17820 +nally his own. A gaoler, with a list in his hand, looked in, merely saying, 
 2.17821 +"Follow me, Evremonde!" and he followed into a large dark room, at a 
 2.17822 +distance. It was a dark winter day, and what with the shadows within, 
 2.17823 +and what with the shadows without, he could but dimly discern the oth- 
 2.17824 +ers who were brought there to have their arms bound. Some were stand- 
 2.17825 +ing; some seated. Some were lamenting, and in restless motion; but, 
 2.17826 +these were few. The great majority were silent and still, looking fixedly 
 2.17827 +at the ground. 
 2.17828 +
 2.17829 +As he stood by the wall in a dim corner, while some of the fifty-two 
 2.17830 +were brought in after him, one man stopped in passing, to embrace him, 
 2.17831 +as having a knowledge of him. It thrilled him with a great dread of dis- 
 2.17832 +covery; but the man went on. A very few moments after that, a young 
 2.17833 +woman, with a slight girlish form, a sweet spare face in which there was 
 2.17834 +no vestige of colour, and large widely opened patient eyes, rose from the 
 2.17835 +seat where he had observed her sitting, and came to speak to him. 
 2.17836 +
 2.17837 +"Citizen Evremonde," she said, touching him with her cold hand. "I 
 2.17838 +am a poor little seamstress, who was with you in La Force." 
 2.17839 +
 2.17840 +
 2.17841 +
 2.17842 +350 
 2.17843 +
 2.17844 +
 2.17845 +
 2.17846 +He murmured for answer: "True. I forget what you were accused of?" 
 2.17847 +
 2.17848 +"Plots. Though the just Heaven knows that I am innocent of any. Is it 
 2.17849 +likely? Who would think of plotting with a poor little weak creature like 
 2.17850 +me?" 
 2.17851 +
 2.17852 +The forlorn smile with which she said it, so touched him, that tears 
 2.17853 +started from his eyes. 
 2.17854 +
 2.17855 +"I am not afraid to die, Citizen Evremonde, but I have done nothing. I 
 2.17856 +am not unwilling to die, if the Republic which is to do so much good to 
 2.17857 +us poor, will profit by my death; but I do not know how that can be, Cit- 
 2.17858 +izen Evremonde. Such a poor weak little creature!" 
 2.17859 +
 2.17860 +As the last thing on earth that his heart was to warm and soften to, it 
 2.17861 +warmed and softened to this pitiable girl. 
 2.17862 +
 2.17863 +"I heard you were released, Citizen Evremonde. I hoped it was true?" 
 2.17864 +
 2.17865 +"It was. But, I was again taken and condemned." 
 2.17866 +
 2.17867 +"If I may ride with you, Citizen Evremonde, will you let me hold your 
 2.17868 +hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it will give me more 
 2.17869 +courage." 
 2.17870 +
 2.17871 +As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden doubt in 
 2.17872 +them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn, hunger-worn 
 2.17873 +young fingers, and touched his lips. 
 2.17874 +
 2.17875 +"Are you dying for him?" she whispered. 
 2.17876 +
 2.17877 +"And his wife and child. Hush! Yes." 
 2.17878 +
 2.17879 +"O you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?" 
 2.17880 +
 2.17881 +"Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last." 
 2.17882 +
 2.17883 +The same shadows that are falling on the prison, are falling, in that 
 2.17884 +same hour of the early afternoon, on the Barrier with the crowd about it, 
 2.17885 +when a coach going out of Paris drives up to be examined. 
 2.17886 +
 2.17887 +"Who goes here? Whom have we within? Papers!" 
 2.17888 +
 2.17889 +The papers are handed out, and read. 
 2.17890 +
 2.17891 +"Alexandre Manette. Physician. French. Which is he?" 
 2.17892 +
 2.17893 +This is he; this helpless, inarticulately murmuring, wandering old man 
 2.17894 +pointed out. 
 2.17895 +
 2.17896 +"Apparently the Citizen-Doctor is not in his right mind? The 
 2.17897 +Revolution-fever will have been too much for him?" 
 2.17898 +
 2.17899 +Greatly too much for him. 
 2.17900 +
 2.17901 +
 2.17902 +
 2.17903 +351 
 2.17904 +
 2.17905 +
 2.17906 +
 2.17907 +"Hah! Many suffer with it. Lucie. His daughter. French. Which is she?" 
 2.17908 +
 2.17909 +This is she. 
 2.17910 +
 2.17911 +"Apparently it must be. Lucie, the wife of Evremonde; is it not?" 
 2.17912 +
 2.17913 +It is. 
 2.17914 +
 2.17915 +"Hah! Evremonde has an assignation elsewhere. Lucie, her child. Eng- 
 2.17916 +lish. This is she?" 
 2.17917 +
 2.17918 +She and no other. 
 2.17919 +
 2.17920 +"Kiss me, child of Evremonde. Now, thou hast kissed a good Republic- 
 2.17921 +an; something new in thy family; remember it! Sydney Carton. Advocate. 
 2.17922 +English. Which is he?" 
 2.17923 +
 2.17924 +He lies here, in this corner of the carriage. He, too, is pointed out. 
 2.17925 +
 2.17926 +"Apparently the English advocate is in a swoon?" 
 2.17927 +
 2.17928 +It is hoped he will recover in the fresher air. It is represented that he is 
 2.17929 +not in strong health, and has separated sadly from a friend who is under 
 2.17930 +the displeasure of the Republic. 
 2.17931 +
 2.17932 +"Is that all? It is not a great deal, that! Many are under the displeasure 
 2.17933 +of the Republic, and must look out at the little window. Jarvis Lorry. 
 2.17934 +Banker. English. Which is he?" 
 2.17935 +
 2.17936 +"I am he. Necessarily, being the last." 
 2.17937 +
 2.17938 +It is Jarvis Lorry who has replied to all the previous questions. It is Jar- 
 2.17939 +vis Lorry who has alighted and stands with his hand on the coach door, 
 2.17940 +replying to a group of officials. They leisurely walk round the carriage 
 2.17941 +and leisurely mount the box, to look at what little luggage it carries on 
 2.17942 +the roof; the country-people hanging about, press nearer to the coach 
 2.17943 +doors and greedily stare in; a little child, carried by its mother, has its 
 2.17944 +short arm held out for it, that it may touch the wife of an aristocrat who 
 2.17945 +has gone to the Guillotine. 
 2.17946 +
 2.17947 +"Behold your papers, Jarvis Lorry, countersigned." 
 2.17948 +
 2.17949 +"One can depart, citizen?" 
 2.17950 +
 2.17951 +"One can depart. Forward, my postilions! A good journey!" 
 2.17952 +
 2.17953 +"I salute you, citizens. - And the first danger passed!" 
 2.17954 +
 2.17955 +These are again the words of Jarvis Lorry, as he clasps his hands, and 
 2.17956 +looks upward. There is terror in the carriage, there is weeping, there is 
 2.17957 +the heavy breathing of the insensible traveller. 
 2.17958 +
 2.17959 +"Are we not going too slowly? Can they not be induced to go faster?" 
 2.17960 +asks Lucie, clinging to the old man. 
 2.17961 +
 2.17962 +
 2.17963 +
 2.17964 +352 
 2.17965 +
 2.17966 +
 2.17967 +
 2.17968 +"It would seem like flight, my darling. I must not urge them too much; 
 2.17969 +it would rouse suspicion." 
 2.17970 +
 2.17971 +"Look back, look back, and see if we are pursued!" 
 2.17972 +
 2.17973 +"The road is clear, my dearest. So far, we are not pursued." 
 2.17974 +
 2.17975 +Houses in twos and threes pass by us, solitary farms, ruinous 
 2.17976 +buildings, dye-works, tanneries, and the like, open country, avenues of 
 2.17977 +leafless trees. The hard uneven pavement is under us, the soft deep mud 
 2.17978 +is on either side. Sometimes, we strike into the skirting mud, to avoid the 
 2.17979 +stones that clatter us and shake us; sometimes, we stick in ruts and 
 2.17980 +sloughs there. The agony of our impatience is then so great, that in our 
 2.17981 +wild alarm and hurry we are for getting out and run- 
 2.17982 +ning - hiding - doing anything but stopping. 
 2.17983 +
 2.17984 +Out of the open country, in again among ruinous buildings, solitary 
 2.17985 +farms, dye-works, tanneries, and the like, cottages in twos and threes, 
 2.17986 +avenues of leafless trees. Have these men deceived us, and taken us back 
 2.17987 +by another road? Is not this the same place twice over? Thank Heaven, 
 2.17988 +no. A village. Look back, look back, and see if we are pursued! Hush! the 
 2.17989 +posting-house. 
 2.17990 +
 2.17991 +Leisurely, our four horses are taken out; leisurely, the coach stands in 
 2.17992 +the little street, bereft of horses, and with no likelihood upon it of ever 
 2.17993 +moving again; leisurely, the new horses come into visible existence, one 
 2.17994 +by one; leisurely, the new postilions follow, sucking and plaiting the 
 2.17995 +lashes of their whips; leisurely, the old postilions count their money, 
 2.17996 +make wrong additions, and arrive at dissatisfied results. All the time, our 
 2.17997 +overfraught hearts are beating at a rate that would far outstrip the fastest 
 2.17998 +gallop of the fastest horses ever foaled. 
 2.17999 +
 2.18000 +At length the new postilions are in their saddles, and the old are left 
 2.18001 +behind. We are through the village, up the hill, and down the hill, and on 
 2.18002 +the low watery grounds. Suddenly, the postilions exchange speech with 
 2.18003 +animated gesticulation, and the horses are pulled up, almost on their 
 2.18004 +haunches. We are pursued? 
 2.18005 +
 2.18006 +"Ho! Within the carriage there. Speak then!" 
 2.18007 +
 2.18008 +"What is it?" asks Mr. Lorry, looking out at window. 
 2.18009 +
 2.18010 +"How many did they say?" 
 2.18011 +
 2.18012 +"I do not understand you." 
 2.18013 +
 2.18014 +" - At the last post. How many to the Guillotine to-day?" 
 2.18015 +
 2.18016 +"Fifty-two." 
 2.18017 +
 2.18018 +
 2.18019 +
 2.18020 +353 
 2.18021 +
 2.18022 +
 2.18023 +
 2.18024 +"I said so! A brave number! My fellow-citizen here would have it 
 2.18025 +forty-two; ten more heads are worth having. The Guillotine goes hand- 
 2.18026 +somely. I love it. Hi forward. Whoop!" 
 2.18027 +
 2.18028 +The night comes on dark. He moves more; he is beginning to revive, 
 2.18029 +and to speak intelligibly; he thinks they are still together; he asks him, by 
 2.18030 +his name, what he has in his hand. O pity us, kind Heaven, and help us! 
 2.18031 +Look out, look out, and see if we are pursued. 
 2.18032 +
 2.18033 +The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the 
 2.18034 +moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; 
 2.18035 +but, so far, we are pursued by nothing else. 
 2.18036 +
 2.18037 +
 2.18038 +
 2.18039 +354 
 2.18040 +
 2.18041 +
 2.18042 +
 2.18043 +Chapter 
 2.18044 +
 2.18045 +
 2.18046 +
 2.18047 +14 
 2.18048 +
 2.18049 +
 2.18050 +
 2.18051 +The Knitting Done 
 2.18052 +
 2.18053 +In that same juncture of time when the Fifty-Two awaited their fate 
 2.18054 +Madame Defarge held darkly ominous council with The Vengeance and 
 2.18055 +Jacques Three of the Revolutionary Jury. Not in the wine-shop did Ma- 
 2.18056 +dame Defarge confer with these ministers, but in the shed of the wood- 
 2.18057 +sawyer, erst a mender of roads. The sawyer himself did not participate in 
 2.18058 +the conference, but abided at a little distance, like an outer satellite who 
 2.18059 +was not to speak until required, or to offer an opinion until invited. 
 2.18060 +
 2.18061 +"But our Defarge," said Jacques Three, "is undoubtedly a good Repub- 
 2.18062 +lican? Eh?" 
 2.18063 +
 2.18064 +"There is no better," the voluble Vengeance protested in her shrill 
 2.18065 +notes, "in France." 
 2.18066 +
 2.18067 +"Peace, little Vengeance," said Madame Defarge, laying her hand with 
 2.18068 +a slight frown on her lieutenant's lips, "hear me speak. My husband, 
 2.18069 +fellow-citizen, is a good Republican and a bold man; he has deserved 
 2.18070 +well of the Republic, and possesses its confidence. But my husband has 
 2.18071 +his weaknesses, and he is so weak as to relent towards this Doctor." 
 2.18072 +
 2.18073 +"It is a great pity," croaked Jacques Three, dubiously shaking his head, 
 2.18074 +with his cruel fingers at his hungry mouth; "it is not quite like a good cit- 
 2.18075 +izen; it is a thing to regret." 
 2.18076 +
 2.18077 +"See you," said madame, "I care nothing for this Doctor, I. He may 
 2.18078 +wear his head or lose it, for any interest I have in him; it is all one to me. 
 2.18079 +But, the Evremonde people are to be exterminated, and the wife and 
 2.18080 +child must follow the husband and father." 
 2.18081 +
 2.18082 +"She has a fine head for it," croaked Jacques Three. "I have seen blue 
 2.18083 +eyes and golden hair there, and they looked charming when Samson 
 2.18084 +held them up." Ogre that he was, he spoke like an epicure. 
 2.18085 +
 2.18086 +Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a little. 
 2.18087 +
 2.18088 +
 2.18089 +
 2.18090 +355 
 2.18091 +
 2.18092 +
 2.18093 +
 2.18094 +"The child also," observed Jacques Three, with a meditative enjoyment 
 2.18095 +of his words, "has golden hair and blue eyes. And we seldom have a 
 2.18096 +child there. It is a pretty sight!" 
 2.18097 +
 2.18098 +"In a word," said Madame Defarge, coming out of her short abstrac- 
 2.18099 +tion, "I cannot trust my husband in this matter. Not only do I feel, since 
 2.18100 +last night, that I dare not confide to him the details of my projects; but 
 2.18101 +also I feel that if I delay, there is danger of his giving warning, and then 
 2.18102 +they might escape." 
 2.18103 +
 2.18104 +"That must never be," croaked Jacques Three; "no one must escape. 
 2.18105 +We have not half enough as it is. We ought to have six score a day." 
 2.18106 +
 2.18107 +"In a word," Madame Defarge went on, "my husband has not my 
 2.18108 +reason for pursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not his reason 
 2.18109 +for regarding this Doctor with any sensibility. I must act for myself, 
 2.18110 +therefore. Come hither, little citizen." 
 2.18111 +
 2.18112 +The wood-sawyer, who held her in the respect, and himself in the sub- 
 2.18113 +mission, of mortal fear, advanced with his hand to his red cap. 
 2.18114 +
 2.18115 +"Touching those signals, little citizen," said Madame Defarge, sternly, 
 2.18116 +"that she made to the prisoners; you are ready to bear witness to them 
 2.18117 +this very day?" 
 2.18118 +
 2.18119 +"Ay, ay, why not!" cried the sawyer. "Every day, in all weathers, from 
 2.18120 +two to four, always signalling, sometimes with the little one, sometimes 
 2.18121 +without. I know what I know. I have seen with my eyes." 
 2.18122 +
 2.18123 +He made all manner of gestures while he spoke, as if in incidental im- 
 2.18124 +itation of some few of the great diversity of signals that he had never 
 2.18125 +seen. 
 2.18126 +
 2.18127 +"Clearly plots," said Jacques Three. "Transparently!" 
 2.18128 +
 2.18129 +"There is no doubt of the Jury?" inquired Madame Defarge, letting her 
 2.18130 +eyes turn to him with a gloomy smile. 
 2.18131 +
 2.18132 +"Rely upon the patriotic Jury, dear citizeness. I answer for my fellow- 
 2.18133 +Jurymen." 
 2.18134 +
 2.18135 +"Now, let me see," said Madame Defarge, pondering again. "Yet once 
 2.18136 +more! Can I spare this Doctor to my husband? I have no feeling either 
 2.18137 +way. Can I spare him?" 
 2.18138 +
 2.18139 +"He would count as one head," observed Jacques Three, in a low 
 2.18140 +voice. "We really have not heads enough; it would be a pity, I think." 
 2.18141 +
 2.18142 +"He was signalling with her when I saw her," argued Madame De- 
 2.18143 +farge; "I cannot speak of one without the other; and I must not be silent, 
 2.18144 +
 2.18145 +
 2.18146 +
 2.18147 +356 
 2.18148 +
 2.18149 +
 2.18150 +
 2.18151 +and trust the case wholly to him, this little citizen here. For, I am not a 
 2.18152 +bad witness." 
 2.18153 +
 2.18154 +The Vengeance and Jacques Three vied with each other in their fervent 
 2.18155 +protestations that she was the most admirable and marvellous of wit- 
 2.18156 +nesses. The little citizen, not to be outdone, declared her to be a celestial 
 2.18157 +witness. 
 2.18158 +
 2.18159 +"He must take his chance," said Madame Defarge. "No, I cannot spare 
 2.18160 +him! You are engaged at three o'clock; you are going to see the batch of 
 2.18161 +to-day executed. - You?" 
 2.18162 +
 2.18163 +The question was addressed to the wood-sawyer, who hurriedly 
 2.18164 +replied in the affirmative: seizing the occasion to add that he was the 
 2.18165 +most ardent of Republicans, and that he would be in effect the most des- 
 2.18166 +olate of Republicans, if anything prevented him from enjoying the pleas- 
 2.18167 +ure of smoking his afternoon pipe in the contemplation of the droll na- 
 2.18168 +tional barber. He was so very demonstrative herein, that he might have 
 2.18169 +been suspected (perhaps was, by the dark eyes that looked contemptu- 
 2.18170 +ously at him out of Madame Defarge's head) of having his small indi- 
 2.18171 +vidual fears for his own personal safety, every hour in the day. 
 2.18172 +
 2.18173 +"I," said madame, "am equally engaged at the same place. After it is 
 2.18174 +over-say at eight to-night - come you to me, in Saint Antoine, and we 
 2.18175 +will give information against these people at my Section." 
 2.18176 +
 2.18177 +The wood-sawyer said he would be proud and flattered to attend the 
 2.18178 +citizeness. The citizeness looking at him, he became embarrassed, evaded 
 2.18179 +her glance as a small dog would have done, retreated among his wood, 
 2.18180 +and hid his confusion over the handle of his saw. 
 2.18181 +
 2.18182 +Madame Defarge beckoned the Juryman and The Vengeance a little 
 2.18183 +nearer to the door, and there expounded her further views to them thus: 
 2.18184 +
 2.18185 +"She will now be at home, awaiting the moment of his death. She will 
 2.18186 +be mourning and grieving. She will be in a state of mind to impeach the 
 2.18187 +justice of the Republic. She will be full of sympathy with its enemies. I 
 2.18188 +will go to her." 
 2.18189 +
 2.18190 +"What an admirable woman; what an adorable woman!" exclaimed 
 2.18191 +Jacques Three, rapturously. "Ah, my cherished!" cried The Vengeance; 
 2.18192 +and embraced her. 
 2.18193 +
 2.18194 +"Take you my knitting," said Madame Defarge, placing it in her lieu- 
 2.18195 +tenant's hands, "and have it ready for me in my usual seat. Keep me my 
 2.18196 +usual chair. Go you there, straight, for there will probably be a greater 
 2.18197 +concourse than usual, to-day." 
 2.18198 +
 2.18199 +
 2.18200 +
 2.18201 +357 
 2.18202 +
 2.18203 +
 2.18204 +
 2.18205 +"I willingly obey the orders of my Chief," said The Vengeance with 
 2.18206 +alacrity, and kissing her cheek. "You will not be late?" 
 2.18207 +
 2.18208 +"I shall be there before the commencement." 
 2.18209 +
 2.18210 +"And before the tumbrils arrive. Be sure you are there, my soul," said 
 2.18211 +The Vengeance, calling after her, for she had already turned into the 
 2.18212 +street, "before the tumbrils arrive!" 
 2.18213 +
 2.18214 +Madame Defarge slightly waved her hand, to imply that she heard, 
 2.18215 +and might be relied upon to arrive in good time, and so went through 
 2.18216 +the mud, and round the corner of the prison wall. The Vengeance and 
 2.18217 +the Juryman, looking after her as she walked away, were highly appreci- 
 2.18218 +ative of her fine figure, and her superb moral endowments. 
 2.18219 +
 2.18220 +There were many women at that time, upon whom the time laid a 
 2.18221 +dreadfully disfiguring hand; but, there was not one among them more to 
 2.18222 +be dreaded than this ruthless woman, now taking her way along the 
 2.18223 +streets. Of a strong and fearless character, of shrewd sense and readiness, 
 2.18224 +of great determination, of that kind of beauty which not only seems to 
 2.18225 +impart to its possessor firmness and animosity, but to strike into others 
 2.18226 +an instinctive recognition of those qualities; the troubled time would 
 2.18227 +have heaved her up, under any circumstances. But, imbued from her 
 2.18228 +childhood with a brooding sense of wrong, and an inveterate hatred of a 
 2.18229 +class, opportunity had developed her into a tigress. She was absolutely 
 2.18230 +without pity. If she had ever had the virtue in her, it had quite gone out 
 2.18231 +of her. 
 2.18232 +
 2.18233 +It was nothing to her, that an innocent man was to die for the sins of 
 2.18234 +his forefathers; she saw, not him, but them. It was nothing to her, that his 
 2.18235 +wife was to be made a widow and his daughter an orphan; that was in- 
 2.18236 +sufficient punishment, because they were her natural enemies and her 
 2.18237 +prey, and as such had no right to live. To appeal to her, was made hope- 
 2.18238 +less by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she had been laid 
 2.18239 +low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in which she had been 
 2.18240 +engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she had been ordered 
 2.18241 +to the axe to-morrow, would she have gone to it with any softer feeling 
 2.18242 +than a fierce desire to change places with the man who sent here there. 
 2.18243 +
 2.18244 +Such a heart Madame Defarge carried under her rough robe. Care- 
 2.18245 +lessly worn, it was a becoming robe enough, in a certain weird way, and 
 2.18246 +her dark hair looked rich under her coarse red cap. Lying hidden in her 
 2.18247 +bosom, was a loaded pistol. Lying hidden at her waist, was a sharpened 
 2.18248 +dagger. Thus accoutred, and walking with the confident tread of such a 
 2.18249 +character, and with the supple freedom of a woman who had habitually 
 2.18250 +
 2.18251 +
 2.18252 +
 2.18253 +358 
 2.18254 +
 2.18255 +
 2.18256 +
 2.18257 +walked in her girlhood, bare-foot and bare-legged, on the brown sea- 
 2.18258 +sand, Madame Defarge took her way along the streets. 
 2.18259 +
 2.18260 +Now, when the journey of the travelling coach, at that very moment 
 2.18261 +waiting for the completion of its load, had been planned out last night, 
 2.18262 +the difficulty of taking Miss Pross in it had much engaged Mr. Lorry's at- 
 2.18263 +tention. It was not merely desirable to avoid overloading the coach, but it 
 2.18264 +was of the highest importance that the time occupied in examining it and 
 2.18265 +its passengers, should be reduced to the utmost; since their escape might 
 2.18266 +depend on the saving of only a few seconds here and there. Finally, he 
 2.18267 +had proposed, after anxious 
 2.18268 +
 2.18269 +consideration, that Miss Pross and Jerry, who were at liberty to leave 
 2.18270 +the city, should leave it at three o'clock in the lightest-wheeled convey- 
 2.18271 +ance known to that period. Unencumbered with luggage, they would 
 2.18272 +soon overtake the coach, and, passing it and preceding it on the road, 
 2.18273 +would order its horses in advance, and greatly facilitate its progress dur- 
 2.18274 +ing the precious hours of the night, when delay was the most to be 
 2.18275 +dreaded. 
 2.18276 +
 2.18277 +Seeing in this arrangement the hope of rendering real service in that 
 2.18278 +pressing emergency, Miss Pross hailed it with joy. She and Jerry had be- 
 2.18279 +held the coach start, had known who it was that Solomon brought, had 
 2.18280 +passed some ten minutes in tortures of suspense, and were now conclud- 
 2.18281 +ing their arrangements to follow the coach, even as Madame Defarge, 
 2.18282 +taking her way through the streets, now drew nearer and nearer to the 
 2.18283 +else-deserted lodging in which they held their consultation. 
 2.18284 +
 2.18285 +"Now what do you think, Mr. Cruncher," said Miss Pross, whose agit- 
 2.18286 +ation was so great that she could hardly speak, or stand, or move, or live: 
 2.18287 +"what do you think of our not starting from this courtyard? Another car- 
 2.18288 +riage having already gone from here to-day, it might awaken suspicion." 
 2.18289 +
 2.18290 +"My opinion, miss," returned Mr. Cruncher, "is as you're right. Like- 
 2.18291 +wise wot I'll stand by you, right or wrong." 
 2.18292 +
 2.18293 +"I am so distracted with fear and hope for our precious creatures," 
 2.18294 +said Miss Pross, wildly crying, "that I am incapable of forming any plan. 
 2.18295 +Are you capable of forming any plan, my dear good Mr. Cruncher?" 
 2.18296 +
 2.18297 +"Respectin' a future spear o' life, miss," returned Mr. Cruncher, "I 
 2.18298 +hope so. Respectin' any present use o' this here blessed old head o' mind, 
 2.18299 +I think not. Would you do me the favour, miss, to take notice o' two 
 2.18300 +promises and wows wot it is my wishes fur to record in this here crisis?" 
 2.18301 +
 2.18302 +
 2.18303 +
 2.18304 +359 
 2.18305 +
 2.18306 +
 2.18307 +
 2.18308 +"Oh, for gracious sake!" cried Miss Pross, still wildly crying, "record 
 2.18309 +them at once, and get them out of the way, like an excellent man." 
 2.18310 +
 2.18311 +"First," said Mr. Cruncher, who was all in a tremble, and who spoke 
 2.18312 +with an ashy and solemn visage, "them poor things well out o' this, nev- 
 2.18313 +er no more will I do it, never no more!" 
 2.18314 +
 2.18315 +"I am quite sure, Mr. Cruncher," returned Miss Pross, "that you never 
 2.18316 +will do it again, whatever it is, and I beg you not to think it necessary to 
 2.18317 +mention more particularly what it is." 
 2.18318 +
 2.18319 +"No, miss," returned Jerry, "it shall not be named to you. Second: 
 2.18320 +them poor things well out o' this, and never no more will I interfere with 
 2.18321 +Mrs. Cruncher's flopping, never no more!" 
 2.18322 +
 2.18323 +"Whatever housekeeping arrangement that may be," said Miss Pross, 
 2.18324 +striving to dry her eyes and compose herself, "I have no doubt it is best 
 2.18325 +that Mrs. Cruncher should have it entirely under her own superintend- 
 2.18326 +ence. - O my poor darlings!" 
 2.18327 +
 2.18328 +"I go so far as to say, miss, moreover," proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with 
 2.18329 +a most alarming tendency to hold forth as from a pulpit - "and let my 
 2.18330 +words be took down and took to Mrs. Cruncher through yourself - that 
 2.18331 +wot my opinions respectin' flopping has undergone a change, and that 
 2.18332 +wot I only hope with all my heart as Mrs. Cruncher may be a flopping at 
 2.18333 +the present time." 
 2.18334 +
 2.18335 +"There, there, there! I hope she is, my dear man," cried the distracted 
 2.18336 +Miss Pross, "and I hope she finds it answering her expectations." 
 2.18337 +
 2.18338 +"Forbid it," proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with additional solemnity, addi- 
 2.18339 +tional slowness, and additional tendency to hold forth and hold out, "as 
 2.18340 +anything wot I have ever said or done should be wisited on my earnest 
 2.18341 +wishes for them poor creeturs now! Forbid it as we shouldn't all flop (if 
 2.18342 +it was anyways conwenient) to get 'em out o' this here dismal risk! For- 
 2.18343 +bid it, miss! Wot I say, for-bid it!" This was Mr. Cruncher's conclusion 
 2.18344 +after a protracted but vain endeavour to find a better one. 
 2.18345 +
 2.18346 +And still Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets, came 
 2.18347 +nearer and nearer. 
 2.18348 +
 2.18349 +"If we ever get back to our native land," said Miss Pross, "you may 
 2.18350 +rely upon my telling Mrs. Cruncher as much as I may be able to remem- 
 2.18351 +ber and understand of what you have so impressively said; and at all 
 2.18352 +events you may be sure that I shall bear witness to your being thor- 
 2.18353 +oughly in earnest at this dreadful time. Now, pray let us think! My es- 
 2.18354 +teemed Mr. Cruncher, let us think!" 
 2.18355 +
 2.18356 +
 2.18357 +
 2.18358 +360 
 2.18359 +
 2.18360 +
 2.18361 +
 2.18362 +Still, Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets, came near- 
 2.18363 +er and nearer. 
 2.18364 +
 2.18365 +"If you were to go before," said Miss Pross, "and stop the vehicle and 
 2.18366 +horses from coming here, and were to wait somewhere for me; wouldn't 
 2.18367 +that be best?" 
 2.18368 +
 2.18369 +Mr. Cruncher thought it might be best. 
 2.18370 +
 2.18371 +"Where could you wait for me?" asked Miss Pross. 
 2.18372 +
 2.18373 +Mr. Cruncher was so bewildered that he could think of no locality but 
 2.18374 +Temple Bar. Alas! Temple Bar was hundreds of miles away, and Ma- 
 2.18375 +dame Defarge was drawing very near indeed. 
 2.18376 +
 2.18377 +"By the cathedral door," said Miss Pross. "Would it be much out of the 
 2.18378 +way, to take me in, near the great cathedral door between the two 
 2.18379 +towers?" 
 2.18380 +
 2.18381 +"No, miss," answered Mr. Cruncher. 
 2.18382 +
 2.18383 +"Then, like the best of men," said Miss Pross, "go to the posting-house 
 2.18384 +straight, and make that change." 
 2.18385 +
 2.18386 +"I am doubtful," said Mr. Cruncher, hesitating and shaking his head, 
 2.18387 +"about leaving of you, you see. We don't know what may happen." 
 2.18388 +
 2.18389 +"Heaven knows we don't," returned Miss Pross, "but have no fear for 
 2.18390 +me. Take me in at the cathedral, at Three o'clock, or as near it as you 
 2.18391 +can, and I am sure it will be better than our going from here. I feel certain 
 2.18392 +of it. There! Bless you, Mr. Cruncher! Think-not of me, but of the lives 
 2.18393 +that may depend on both of us!" 
 2.18394 +
 2.18395 +This exordium, and Miss Pross's two hands in quite agonised entreaty 
 2.18396 +clasping his, decided Mr. Cruncher. With an encouraging nod or two, he 
 2.18397 +immediately went out to alter the arrangements, and left her by herself 
 2.18398 +to follow as she had proposed. 
 2.18399 +
 2.18400 +The having originated a precaution which was already in course of ex- 
 2.18401 +ecution, was a great relief to Miss Pross. The necessity of composing her 
 2.18402 +appearance so that it should attract no special notice in the streets, was 
 2.18403 +another relief. She looked at her watch, and it was twenty minutes past 
 2.18404 +two. She had no time to lose, but must get ready at once. 
 2.18405 +
 2.18406 +Afraid, in her extreme perturbation, of the loneliness of the deserted 
 2.18407 +rooms, and of half -imagined faces peeping from behind every open door 
 2.18408 +in them, Miss Pross got a basin of cold water and began laving her eyes, 
 2.18409 +which were swollen and red. Haunted by her feverish apprehensions, 
 2.18410 +she could not bear to have her sight obscured for a minute at a time by 
 2.18411 +
 2.18412 +
 2.18413 +
 2.18414 +361 
 2.18415 +
 2.18416 +
 2.18417 +
 2.18418 +the dripping water, but constantly paused and looked round to see that 
 2.18419 +there was no one watching her. In one of those pauses she recoiled and 
 2.18420 +cried out, for she saw a figure standing in the room. 
 2.18421 +
 2.18422 +The basin fell to the ground broken, and the water flowed to the feet of 
 2.18423 +Madame Defarge. By strange stern ways, and through much staining 
 2.18424 +blood, those feet had come to meet that water. 
 2.18425 +
 2.18426 +Madame Defarge looked coldly at her, and said, "The wife of Evre- 
 2.18427 +monde; where is she?" 
 2.18428 +
 2.18429 +It flashed upon Miss Pross's mind that the doors were all standing 
 2.18430 +open, and would suggest the flight. Her first act was to shut them. There 
 2.18431 +were four in the room, and she shut them all. She then placed herself be- 
 2.18432 +fore the door of the chamber which Lucie had occupied. 
 2.18433 +
 2.18434 +Madame Defarge's dark eyes followed her through this rapid move- 
 2.18435 +ment, and rested on her when it was finished. Miss Pross had nothing 
 2.18436 +beautiful about her; years had not tamed the wildness, or softened the 
 2.18437 +grimness, of her appearance; but, she too was a determined woman in 
 2.18438 +her different way, and she measured Madame Defarge with her eyes, 
 2.18439 +every inch. 
 2.18440 +
 2.18441 +"You might, from your appearance, be the wife of Lucifer," said Miss 
 2.18442 +Pross, in her breathing. "Nevertheless, you shall not get the better of me. 
 2.18443 +I am an Englishwoman." 
 2.18444 +
 2.18445 +Madame Defarge looked at her scornfully, but still with something of 
 2.18446 +Miss Pross's own perception that they two were at bay. She saw a tight, 
 2.18447 +hard, wiry woman before her, as Mr. Lorry had seen in the same figure a 
 2.18448 +woman with a strong hand, in the years gone by. She knew full well that 
 2.18449 +Miss Pross was the family's devoted friend; Miss Pross knew full well 
 2.18450 +that Madame Defarge was the family's malevolent enemy. 
 2.18451 +
 2.18452 +"On my way yonder," said Madame Defarge, with a slight movement 
 2.18453 +of her hand towards the fatal spot, "where they reserve my chair and my 
 2.18454 +knitting for me, I am come to make my compliments to her in passing. I 
 2.18455 +wish to see her." 
 2.18456 +
 2.18457 +"I know that your intentions are evil," said Miss Pross, "and you may 
 2.18458 +depend upon it, I'll hold my own against them." 
 2.18459 +
 2.18460 +Each spoke in her own language; neither understood the other's 
 2.18461 +words; both were very watchful, and intent to deduce from look and 
 2.18462 +manner, what the unintelligible words meant. 
 2.18463 +
 2.18464 +
 2.18465 +
 2.18466 +362 
 2.18467 +
 2.18468 +
 2.18469 +
 2.18470 +"It will do her no good to keep herself concealed from me at this mo- 
 2.18471 +ment," said Madame Defarge. "Good patriots will know what that 
 2.18472 +means. Let me see her. Go tell her that I wish to see her. Do you hear?" 
 2.18473 +
 2.18474 +"If those eyes of yours were bed-winches," returned Miss Pross, "and I 
 2.18475 +was an English four-poster, they shouldn't loose a splinter of me. No, 
 2.18476 +you wicked foreign woman; I am your match." 
 2.18477 +
 2.18478 +Madame Defarge was not likely to follow these idiomatic remarks in 
 2.18479 +detail; but, she so far understood them as to perceive that she was set at 
 2.18480 +naught. 
 2.18481 +
 2.18482 +"Woman imbecile and pig-like!" said Madame Defarge, frowning. "I 
 2.18483 +take no answer from you. I demand to see her. Either tell her that I de- 
 2.18484 +mand to see her, or stand out of the way of the door and let me go to 
 2.18485 +her!" This, with an angry explanatory wave of her right arm. 
 2.18486 +
 2.18487 +"I little thought," said Miss Pross, "that I should ever want to under- 
 2.18488 +stand your nonsensical language; but I would give all I have, except the 
 2.18489 +clothes I wear, to know whether you suspect the truth, or any part of it." 
 2.18490 +
 2.18491 +Neither of them for a single moment released the other's eyes. Ma- 
 2.18492 +dame Defarge had not moved from the spot where she stood when Miss 
 2.18493 +Pross first became aware of her; but, she now advanced one step. 
 2.18494 +
 2.18495 +"I am a Briton," said Miss Pross, "I am desperate. I don't care an Eng- 
 2.18496 +lish Twopence for myself. I know that the longer I keep you here, the 
 2.18497 +greater hope there is for my Ladybird. I'll not leave a handful of that 
 2.18498 +dark hair upon your head, if you lay a finger on me!" 
 2.18499 +
 2.18500 +Thus Miss Pross, with a shake of her head and a flash of her eyes 
 2.18501 +between every rapid sentence, and every rapid sentence a whole breath. 
 2.18502 +Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck a blow in her life. 
 2.18503 +
 2.18504 +But, her courage was of that emotional nature that it brought the irre- 
 2.18505 +pressible tears into her eyes. This was a courage that Madame Defarge so 
 2.18506 +little comprehended as to mistake for weakness. "Ha, ha!" she laughed, 
 2.18507 +"you poor wretch! What are you worth! I address myself to that Doctor." 
 2.18508 +Then she raised her voice and called out, "Citizen Doctor! Wife of Evre- 
 2.18509 +monde! Child of Evremonde! Any person but this miserable fool, answer 
 2.18510 +the Citizeness Defarge!" 
 2.18511 +
 2.18512 +Perhaps the following silence, perhaps some latent disclosure in the 
 2.18513 +expression of Miss Pross's face, perhaps a sudden misgiving apart from 
 2.18514 +either suggestion, whispered to Madame Defarge that they were gone. 
 2.18515 +Three of the doors she opened swiftly, and looked in. 
 2.18516 +
 2.18517 +
 2.18518 +
 2.18519 +363 
 2.18520 +
 2.18521 +
 2.18522 +
 2.18523 +"Those rooms are all in disorder, there has been hurried packing, there 
 2.18524 +are odds and ends upon the ground. There is no one in that room behind 
 2.18525 +you! Let me look." 
 2.18526 +
 2.18527 +"Never!" said Miss Pross, who understood the request as perfectly as 
 2.18528 +Madame Defarge understood the answer. 
 2.18529 +
 2.18530 +"If they are not in that room, they are gone, and can be pursued and 
 2.18531 +brought back," said Madame Defarge to herself. 
 2.18532 +
 2.18533 +"As long as you don't know whether they are in that room or not, you 
 2.18534 +are uncertain what to do," said Miss Pross to herself; "and you shall not 
 2.18535 +know that, if I can prevent your knowing it; and know that, or not know 
 2.18536 +that, you shall not leave here while I can hold you." 
 2.18537 +
 2.18538 +"I have been in the streets from the first, nothing has stopped me, I 
 2.18539 +will tear you to pieces, but I will have you from that door," said Madame 
 2.18540 +Defarge. 
 2.18541 +
 2.18542 +"We are alone at the top of a high house in a solitary courtyard, we are 
 2.18543 +not likely to be heard, and I pray for bodily strength to keep you here, 
 2.18544 +while every minute you are here is worth a hundred thousand guineas to 
 2.18545 +my darling," said Miss Pross. 
 2.18546 +
 2.18547 +Madame Defarge made at the door. Miss Pross, on the instinct of the 
 2.18548 +moment, seized her round the waist in both her arms, and held her tight. 
 2.18549 +It was in vain for Madame Defarge to struggle and to strike; Miss Pross, 
 2.18550 +with the vigorous tenacity of love, always so much stronger than hate, 
 2.18551 +clasped her tight, and even lifted her from the floor in the struggle that 
 2.18552 +they had. The two hands of Madame Defarge buffeted and tore her face; 
 2.18553 +but, Miss Pross, with her head down, held her round the waist, and 
 2.18554 +clung to her with more than the hold of a drowning woman. 
 2.18555 +
 2.18556 +Soon, Madame Defarge's hands ceased to strike, and felt at her en- 
 2.18557 +circled waist. "It is under my arm," said Miss Pross, in smothered tones, 
 2.18558 +"you shall not draw it. I am stronger than you, I bless Heaven for it. I 
 2.18559 +hold you till one or other of us faints or dies!" 
 2.18560 +
 2.18561 +Madame Defarge's hands were at her bosom. Miss Pross looked up, 
 2.18562 +saw what it was, struck at it, struck out a flash and a crash, and stood 
 2.18563 +alone - blinded with smoke. 
 2.18564 +
 2.18565 +All this was in a second. As the smoke cleared, leaving an awful still- 
 2.18566 +ness, it passed out on the air, like the soul of the furious woman whose 
 2.18567 +body lay lifeless on the ground. 
 2.18568 +
 2.18569 +In the first fright and horror of her situation, Miss Pross passed the 
 2.18570 +body as far from it as she could, and ran down the stairs to call for 
 2.18571 +
 2.18572 +
 2.18573 +
 2.18574 +364 
 2.18575 +
 2.18576 +
 2.18577 +
 2.18578 +fruitless help. Happily, she bethought herself of the consequences of 
 2.18579 +what she did, in time to check herself and go back. It was dreadful to go 
 2.18580 +in at the door again; but, she did go in, and even went near it, to get the 
 2.18581 +bonnet and other things that she must wear. These she put on, out on the 
 2.18582 +staircase, first shutting and locking the door and taking away the key. 
 2.18583 +She then sat down on the stairs a few moments to breathe and to cry, and 
 2.18584 +then got up and hurried away. 
 2.18585 +
 2.18586 +By good fortune she had a veil on her bonnet, or she could hardly have 
 2.18587 +gone along the streets without being stopped. By good fortune, too, she 
 2.18588 +was naturally so peculiar in appearance as not to show disfigurement 
 2.18589 +like any other woman. She needed both advantages, for the marks of 
 2.18590 +gripping fingers were deep in her face, and her hair was torn, and her 
 2.18591 +dress (hastily composed with unsteady hands) was clutched and 
 2.18592 +dragged a hundred ways. 
 2.18593 +
 2.18594 +In crossing the bridge, she dropped the door key in the river. Arriving 
 2.18595 +at the cathedral some few minutes before her escort, and waiting there, 
 2.18596 +she thought, what if the key were already taken in a net, what if it were 
 2.18597 +identified, what if the door were opened and the remains discovered, 
 2.18598 +what if she were stopped at the gate, sent to prison, and charged with 
 2.18599 +murder! In the midst of these fluttering thoughts, the escort appeared, 
 2.18600 +took her in, and took her away. 
 2.18601 +
 2.18602 +"Is there any noise in the streets?" she asked him. 
 2.18603 +
 2.18604 +"The usual noises," Mr. Cruncher replied; and looked surprised by the 
 2.18605 +question and by her aspect. 
 2.18606 +
 2.18607 +"I don't hear you," said Miss Pross. "What do you say?" 
 2.18608 +
 2.18609 +It was in vain for Mr. Cruncher to repeat what he said; Miss Pross 
 2.18610 +could not hear him. "So I'll nod my head," thought Mr. Cruncher, 
 2.18611 +amazed, "at all events she'll see that." And she did. 
 2.18612 +
 2.18613 +"Is there any noise in the streets now?" asked Miss Pross again, 
 2.18614 +presently. 
 2.18615 +
 2.18616 +Again Mr. Cruncher nodded his head. 
 2.18617 +
 2.18618 +"I don't hear it." 
 2.18619 +
 2.18620 +"Gone deaf in an hour?" said Mr. Cruncher, ruminating, with his mind 
 2.18621 +much disturbed; "wot's come to her?" 
 2.18622 +
 2.18623 +"I feel," said Miss Pross, "as if there had been a flash and a crash, and 
 2.18624 +that crash was the last thing I should ever hear in this life." 
 2.18625 +
 2.18626 +
 2.18627 +
 2.18628 +365 
 2.18629 +
 2.18630 +
 2.18631 +
 2.18632 +"Blest if she ain't in a queer condition!" said Mr. Cruncher, more and 
 2.18633 +more disturbed. "Wot can she have been a takin', to keep her courage 
 2.18634 +up? Hark! There's the roll of them dreadful carts! You can hear that, 
 2.18635 +miss?" 
 2.18636 +
 2.18637 +"I can hear," said Miss Pross, seeing that he spoke to her, "nothing. O, 
 2.18638 +my good man, there was first a great crash, and then a great stillness, 
 2.18639 +and that stillness seems to be fixed and unchangeable, never to be broken 
 2.18640 +any more as long as my life lasts." 
 2.18641 +
 2.18642 +"If she don't hear the roll of those dreadful carts, now very nigh their 
 2.18643 +journey's end," said Mr. Cruncher, glancing over his shoulder, "it's my 
 2.18644 +opinion that indeed she never will hear anything else in this world." 
 2.18645 +
 2.18646 +And indeed she never did. 
 2.18647 +
 2.18648 +
 2.18649 +
 2.18650 +366 
 2.18651 +
 2.18652 +
 2.18653 +
 2.18654 +Chapter 
 2.18655 +
 2.18656 +
 2.18657 +
 2.18658 +15 
 2.18659 +
 2.18660 +
 2.18661 +
 2.18662 +The Footsteps Die Out For Ever 
 2.18663 +
 2.18664 +Along the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Six 
 2.18665 +tumbrils carry the day's wine to La Guillotine. All the devouring and in- 
 2.18666 +satiate Monsters imagined since imagination could record itself, are 
 2.18667 +fused in the one realisation, Guillotine. And yet there is not in France, 
 2.18668 +with its rich variety of soil and climate, a blade, a leaf, a root, a sprig, a 
 2.18669 +peppercorn, which will grow to maturity under conditions more certain 
 2.18670 +than those that have produced this horror. Crush humanity out of shape 
 2.18671 +once more, under similar hammers, and it will twist itself into the same 
 2.18672 +tortured forms. Sow the same seed of rapacious license and oppression 
 2.18673 +over again, and it will surely yield the same fruit according to its kind. 
 2.18674 +
 2.18675 +Six tumbrils roll along the streets. Change these back again to what 
 2.18676 +they were, thou powerful enchanter, Time, and they shall be seen to be 
 2.18677 +the carriages of absolute monarchs, the equipages of feudal nobles, the 
 2.18678 +toilettes of flaring Jezebels, the churches that are not my father's house 
 2.18679 +but dens of thieves, the huts of millions of starving peasants! No; the 
 2.18680 +great magician who majestically works out the appointed order of the 
 2.18681 +Creator, never reverses his transformations. "If thou be changed into this 
 2.18682 +shape by the will of God," say the seers to the enchanted, in the wise Ar- 
 2.18683 +abian stories, "then remain so! But, if thou wear this form through mere 
 2.18684 +passing conjuration, then resume thy former aspect!" Changeless and 
 2.18685 +hopeless, the tumbrils roll along. 
 2.18686 +
 2.18687 +As the sombre wheels of the six carts go round, they seem to plough 
 2.18688 +up a long crooked furrow among the populace in the streets. Ridges of 
 2.18689 +faces are thrown to this side and to that, and the ploughs go steadily on- 
 2.18690 +ward. So used are the regular inhabitants of the houses to the spectacle, 
 2.18691 +that in many windows there are no people, and in some the occupation 
 2.18692 +of the hands is not so much as suspended, while the eyes survey the 
 2.18693 +faces in the tumbrils. Here and there, the inmate has visitors to see the 
 2.18694 +sight; then he points his finger, with something of the complacency of a 
 2.18695 +
 2.18696 +
 2.18697 +
 2.18698 +367 
 2.18699 +
 2.18700 +
 2.18701 +
 2.18702 +curator or authorised exponent, to this cart and to this, and seems to tell 
 2.18703 +who sat here yesterday, and who there the day before. 
 2.18704 +
 2.18705 +Of the riders in the tumbrils, some observe these things, and all things 
 2.18706 +on their last roadside, with an impassive stare; others, with a lingering 
 2.18707 +interest in the ways of life and men. Some, seated with drooping heads, 
 2.18708 +are sunk in silent despair; again, there are some so heedful of their looks 
 2.18709 +that they cast upon the multitude such glances as they have seen in 
 2.18710 +theatres, and in pictures. Several close their eyes, and think, or try to get 
 2.18711 +their straying thoughts together. Only one, and he a miserable creature, 
 2.18712 +of a crazed aspect, is so shattered and made drunk by horror, that he 
 2.18713 +sings, and tries to dance. Not one of the whole number appeals by look 
 2.18714 +or gesture, to the pity of the people. 
 2.18715 +
 2.18716 +There is a guard of sundry horsemen riding abreast of the tumbrils, 
 2.18717 +and faces are often turned up to some of them, and they are asked some 
 2.18718 +question. It would seem to be always the same question, for, it is always 
 2.18719 +followed by a press of people towards the third cart. The horsemen 
 2.18720 +abreast of that cart, frequently point out one man in it with their swords. 
 2.18721 +The leading curiosity is, to know which is he; he stands at the back of the 
 2.18722 +tumbril with his head bent down, to converse with a mere girl who sits 
 2.18723 +on the side of the cart, and holds his hand. He has no curiosity or care for 
 2.18724 +the scene about him, and always speaks to the girl. Here and there in the 
 2.18725 +long street of St. Honore, cries are raised against him. If they move him 
 2.18726 +at all, it is only to a quiet smile, as he shakes his hair a little more loosely 
 2.18727 +about his face. He cannot easily touch his face, his arms being bound. 
 2.18728 +
 2.18729 +On the steps of a church, awaiting the coming-up of the tumbrils, 
 2.18730 +stands the Spy and prison-sheep. He looks into the first of them: not 
 2.18731 +there. He looks into the second: not there. He already asks himself, "Has 
 2.18732 +he sacrificed me?" when his face clears, as he looks into the third. 
 2.18733 +
 2.18734 +"Which is Evremonde?" says a man behind him. 
 2.18735 +
 2.18736 +"That. At the back there." 
 2.18737 +
 2.18738 +"With his hand in the girl's?" 
 2.18739 +
 2.18740 +"Yes." 
 2.18741 +
 2.18742 +The man cries, "Down, Evremonde! To the Guillotine all aristocrats! 
 2.18743 +Down, Evremonde!" 
 2.18744 +
 2.18745 +"Hush, hush!" the Spy entreats him, timidly. 
 2.18746 +
 2.18747 +"And why not, citizen?" 
 2.18748 +
 2.18749 +"He is going to pay the forfeit: it will be paid in five minutes more. Let 
 2.18750 +him be at peace." 
 2.18751 +
 2.18752 +
 2.18753 +
 2.18754 +368 
 2.18755 +
 2.18756 +
 2.18757 +
 2.18758 +But the man continuing to exclaim, "Down, Evremonde!" the face of 
 2.18759 +Evremonde is for a moment turned towards him. Evremonde then sees 
 2.18760 +the Spy, and looks attentively at him, and goes his way. 
 2.18761 +
 2.18762 +The clocks are on the stroke of three, and the furrow ploughed among 
 2.18763 +the populace is turning round, to come on into the place of execution, 
 2.18764 +and end. The ridges thrown to this side and to that, now crumble in and 
 2.18765 +close behind the last plough as it passes on, for all are following to the 
 2.18766 +Guillotine. In front of it, seated in chairs, as in a garden of public diver- 
 2.18767 +sion, are a number of women, busily knitting. On one of the fore-most 
 2.18768 +chairs, stands The Vengeance, looking about for her friend. 
 2.18769 +
 2.18770 +"Therese!" she cries, in her shrill tones. "Who has seen her? Therese 
 2.18771 +Defarge!" 
 2.18772 +
 2.18773 +"She never missed before," says a knitting-woman of the sisterhood. 
 2.18774 +
 2.18775 +"No; nor will she miss now," cries The Vengeance, petulantly. 
 2.18776 +"Therese." 
 2.18777 +
 2.18778 +"Louder," the woman recommends. 
 2.18779 +
 2.18780 +Ay! Louder, Vengeance, much louder, and still she will scarcely hear 
 2.18781 +thee. Louder yet, Vengeance, with a little oath or so added, and yet it will 
 2.18782 +hardly bring her. Send other women up and down to seek her, lingering 
 2.18783 +somewhere; and yet, although the messengers have done dread deeds, it 
 2.18784 +is questionable whether of their own wills they will go far enough to find 
 2.18785 +her! 
 2.18786 +
 2.18787 +"Bad Fortune!" cries The Vengeance, stamping her foot in the chair, 
 2.18788 +"and here are the tumbrils! And Evremonde will be despatched in a 
 2.18789 +wink, and she not here! See her knitting in my hand, and her empty chair 
 2.18790 +ready for her. I cry with vexation and disappointment!" 
 2.18791 +
 2.18792 +As The Vengeance descends from her elevation to do it, the tumbrils 
 2.18793 +begin to discharge their loads. The ministers of Sainte Guillotine are 
 2.18794 +robed and ready. Crash! - A head is held up, and the knitting-women 
 2.18795 +who scarcely lifted their eyes to look at it a moment ago when it could 
 2.18796 +think and speak, count One. 
 2.18797 +
 2.18798 +The second tumbril empties and moves on; the third comes up. Crash! 
 2.18799 +- And the knitting-women, never faltering or pausing in their Work, 
 2.18800 +count Two. 
 2.18801 +
 2.18802 +The supposed Evremonde descends, and the seamstress is lifted out 
 2.18803 +next after him. He has not relinquished her patient hand in getting out, 
 2.18804 +but still holds it as he promised. He gently places her with her back to 
 2.18805 +
 2.18806 +
 2.18807 +
 2.18808 +369 
 2.18809 +
 2.18810 +
 2.18811 +
 2.18812 +the crashing engine that constantly whirrs up and falls, and she looks in- 
 2.18813 +to his face and thanks him. 
 2.18814 +
 2.18815 +"But for you, dear stranger, I should not be so composed, for I am nat- 
 2.18816 +urally a poor little thing, faint of heart; nor should I have been able to 
 2.18817 +raise my thoughts to Him who was put to death, that we might have 
 2.18818 +hope and comfort here to-day. I think you were sent to me by Heaven." 
 2.18819 +
 2.18820 +"Or you to me," says Sydney Carton. "Keep your eyes upon me, dear 
 2.18821 +child, and mind no other object." 
 2.18822 +
 2.18823 +"I mind nothing while I hold your hand. I shall mind nothing when I 
 2.18824 +let it go, if they are rapid." 
 2.18825 +
 2.18826 +"They will be rapid. Fear not!" 
 2.18827 +
 2.18828 +The two stand in the fast-thinning throng of victims, but they speak as 
 2.18829 +if they were alone. Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to 
 2.18830 +heart, these two children of the Universal Mother, else so wide apart and 
 2.18831 +differing, have come together on the dark highway, to repair home to- 
 2.18832 +gether, and to rest in her bosom. 
 2.18833 +
 2.18834 +"Brave and generous friend, will you let me ask you one last question? 
 2.18835 +I am very ignorant, and it troubles me - just a little." 
 2.18836 +
 2.18837 +"Tell me what it is." 
 2.18838 +
 2.18839 +"I have a cousin, an only relative and an orphan, like myself, whom I 
 2.18840 +love very dearly. She is five years younger than I, and she lives in a farm- 
 2.18841 +er's house in the south country. Poverty parted us, and she knows noth- 
 2.18842 +ing of my fate - for I cannot write - and if I could, how should I tell her! 
 2.18843 +It is better as it is." 
 2.18844 +
 2.18845 +"Yes, yes: better as it is." 
 2.18846 +
 2.18847 +"What I have been thinking as we came along, and what I am still 
 2.18848 +thinking now, as I look into your kind strong face which gives me so 
 2.18849 +much support, is this: - If the Republic really does good to the poor, and 
 2.18850 +they come to be less hungry, and in all ways to suffer less, she may live a 
 2.18851 +long time: she may even live to be old." 
 2.18852 +
 2.18853 +"What then, my gentle sister?" 
 2.18854 +
 2.18855 +"Do you think:" the uncomplaining eyes in which there is so much en- 
 2.18856 +durance, fill with tears, and the lips part a little more and tremble: "that 
 2.18857 +it will seem long to me, while I wait for her in the better land where I 
 2.18858 +trust both you and I will be mercifully sheltered?" 
 2.18859 +
 2.18860 +"It cannot be, my child; there is no Time there, and no trouble there." 
 2.18861 +
 2.18862 +
 2.18863 +
 2.18864 +370 
 2.18865 +
 2.18866 +
 2.18867 +
 2.18868 +"You comfort me so much! I am so ignorant. Am I to kiss you now? Is 
 2.18869 +the moment come?" 
 2.18870 +
 2.18871 +"Yes." 
 2.18872 +
 2.18873 +She kisses his lips; he kisses hers; they solemnly bless each other. The 
 2.18874 +spare hand does not tremble as he releases it; nothing worse than a 
 2.18875 +sweet, bright constancy is in the patient face. She goes next before 
 2.18876 +him - is gone; the knitting- women count Twenty-Two. 
 2.18877 +
 2.18878 +"I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in 
 2.18879 +me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and be- 
 2.18880 +lieveth in me shall never die." 
 2.18881 +
 2.18882 +The murmuring of many voices, the upturning of many faces, the 
 2.18883 +pressing on of many footsteps in the outskirts of the crowd, so that it 
 2.18884 +swells forward in a mass, like one great heave of water, all flashes away. 
 2.18885 +Twenty-Three. 
 2.18886 +
 2.18887 +They said of him, about the city that night, that it was the peacefulest 
 2.18888 +man's face ever beheld there. Many added that he looked sublime and 
 2.18889 +prophetic. 
 2.18890 +
 2.18891 +One of the most remarkable sufferers by the same axe - a woman-had 
 2.18892 +asked at the foot of the same scaffold, not long before, to be allowed to 
 2.18893 +write down the thoughts that were inspiring her. If he had given any ut- 
 2.18894 +terance to his, and they were prophetic, they would have been these: 
 2.18895 +
 2.18896 +"I see Barsad, and Cly, Defarge, The Vengeance, the Juryman, the 
 2.18897 +Judge, long ranks of the new oppressors who have risen on the destruc- 
 2.18898 +tion of the old, perishing by this retributive instrument, before it shall 
 2.18899 +cease out of its present use. I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people 
 2.18900 +rising from this abyss, and, in their struggles to be truly free, in their tri- 
 2.18901 +umphs and defeats, through long years to come, I see the evil of this time 
 2.18902 +and of the previous time of which this is the natural birth, gradually 
 2.18903 +making expiation for itself and wearing out. 
 2.18904 +
 2.18905 +"I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosper- 
 2.18906 +ous and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see Her with 
 2.18907 +a child upon her bosom, who bears my name. I see her father, aged and 
 2.18908 +bent, but otherwise restored, and faithful to all men in his healing office, 
 2.18909 +and at peace. I see the good old man, so long their friend, in ten years' 
 2.18910 +time enriching them with all he has, and passing tranquilly to his 
 2.18911 +reward. 
 2.18912 +
 2.18913 +"I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their 
 2.18914 +descendants, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for 
 2.18915 +
 2.18916 +
 2.18917 +
 2.18918 +371 
 2.18919 +
 2.18920 +
 2.18921 +
 2.18922 +me on the anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband, their 
 2.18923 +course done, lying side by side in their last earthly bed, and I know that 
 2.18924 +each was not more honoured and held sacred in the other's soul, than I 
 2.18925 +was in the souls of both. 
 2.18926 +
 2.18927 +"I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a 
 2.18928 +man winning his way up in that path of life which once was mine. I see 
 2.18929 +him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the 
 2.18930 +light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him, fore- 
 2.18931 +most of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name, with 
 2.18932 +a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place - then fair to look 
 2.18933 +upon, with not a trace of this day's disfigurement - and I hear him tell 
 2.18934 +the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice. 
 2.18935 +
 2.18936 +"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, 
 2.18937 +far better rest that I go to than I have ever known." 
 2.18938 +
 2.18939 +
 2.18940 +
 2.18941 +372 
 2.18942 +
 2.18943 +