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A TALE OF TWO CITIES
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A STORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
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By Charles Dickens
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Book the First--Recalled to Life
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I. The Period
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It was the best of times,
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it was the worst of times,
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it was the age of wisdom,
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it was the age of foolishness,
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it was the epoch of belief,
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it was the epoch of incredulity,
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it was the season of Light,
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it was the season of Darkness,
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it was the spring of hope,
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it was the winter of despair,
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we had everything before us,
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we had nothing before us,
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we were all going direct to Heaven,
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we were all going direct the other way--
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in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of
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its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for
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evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
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There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the
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throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with
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a fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer
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than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes,
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that things in general were settled for ever.
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It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five.
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Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period,
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as at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth
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blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had
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heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were
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made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster. Even the Cock-lane
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ghost had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping out its
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messages, as the spirits of this very year last past (supernaturally
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deficient in originality) rapped out theirs. Mere messages in the
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earthly order of events had lately come to the English Crown and People,
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from a congress of British subjects in America: which, strange
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to relate, have proved more important to the human race than any
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communications yet received through any of the chickens of the Cock-lane
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brood.
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France, less favoured on the whole as to matters spiritual than her
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sister of the shield and trident, rolled with exceeding smoothness down
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hill, making paper money and spending it. Under the guidance of her
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Christian pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with such humane
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achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his tongue
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torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not
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kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks
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which passed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty
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yards. It is likely enough that, rooted in the woods of France and
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Norway, there were growing trees, when that sufferer was put to death,
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already marked by the Woodman, Fate, to come down and be sawn into
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boards, to make a certain movable framework with a sack and a knife in
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it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in the rough outhouses
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of some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there were
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sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts, bespattered with
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rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which
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the Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils of
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the Revolution. But that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work
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unceasingly, work silently, and no one heard them as they went about
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with muffled tread: the rather, forasmuch as to entertain any suspicion
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that they were awake, was to be atheistical and traitorous.
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In England, there was scarcely an amount of order and protection to
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justify much national boasting. Daring burglaries by armed men, and
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highway robberies, took place in the capital itself every night;
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families were publicly cautioned not to go out of town without removing
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their furniture to upholsterers' warehouses for security; the highwayman
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in the dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised and
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challenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of
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"the Captain," gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the
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mail was waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, and
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then got shot dead himself by the other four, "in consequence of the
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failure of his ammunition:" after which the mail was robbed in peace;
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that magnificent potentate, the Lord Mayor of London, was made to stand
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and deliver on Turnham Green, by one highwayman, who despoiled the
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illustrious creature in sight of all his retinue; prisoners in London
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gaols fought battles with their turnkeys, and the majesty of the law
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fired blunderbusses in among them, loaded with rounds of shot and ball;
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thieves snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of noble lords at
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Court drawing-rooms; musketeers went into St. Giles's, to search
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for contraband goods, and the mob fired on the musketeers, and the
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musketeers fired on the mob, and nobody thought any of these occurrences
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much out of the common way. In the midst of them, the hangman, ever busy
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and ever worse than useless, was in constant requisition; now, stringing
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up long rows of miscellaneous criminals; now, hanging a housebreaker on
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Saturday who had been taken on Tuesday; now, burning people in the
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hand at Newgate by the dozen, and now burning pamphlets at the door of
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Westminster Hall; to-day, taking the life of an atrocious murderer,
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and to-morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a farmer's boy of
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sixpence.
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All these things, and a thousand like them, came to pass in and close
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upon the dear old year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five.
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Environed by them, while the Woodman and the Farmer worked unheeded,
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those two of the large jaws, and those other two of the plain and the
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fair faces, trod with stir enough, and carried their divine rights
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with a high hand. Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred
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and seventy-five conduct their Greatnesses, and myriads of small
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creatures--the creatures of this chronicle among the rest--along the
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roads that lay before them.
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II. The Mail
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It was the Dover road that lay, on a Friday night late in November,
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before the first of the persons with whom this history has business.
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The Dover road lay, as to him, beyond the Dover mail, as it lumbered up
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Shooter's Hill. He walked up hill in the mire by the side of the mail,
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as the rest of the passengers did; not because they had the least relish
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for walking exercise, under the circumstances, but because the hill,
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and the harness, and the mud, and the mail, were all so heavy, that the
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horses had three times already come to a stop, besides once drawing the
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coach across the road, with the mutinous intent of taking it back
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to Blackheath. Reins and whip and coachman and guard, however, in
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combination, had read that article of war which forbade a purpose
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otherwise strongly in favour of the argument, that some brute animals
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are endued with Reason; and the team had capitulated and returned to
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their duty.
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With drooping heads and tremulous tails, they mashed their way through
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the thick mud, floundering and stumbling between whiles, as if they were
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falling to pieces at the larger joints. As often as the driver rested
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them and brought them to a stand, with a wary "Wo-ho! so-ho-then!" the
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near leader violently shook his head and everything upon it--like an
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unusually emphatic horse, denying that the coach could be got up the
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hill. Whenever the leader made this rattle, the passenger started, as a
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nervous passenger might, and was disturbed in mind.
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There was a steaming mist in all the hollows, and it had roamed in its
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forlornness up the hill, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and finding
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none. A clammy and intensely cold mist, it made its slow way through the
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air in ripples that visibly followed and overspread one another, as the
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waves of an unwholesome sea might do. It was dense enough to shut out
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everything from the light of the coach-lamps but these its own workings,
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and a few yards of road; and the reek of the labouring horses steamed
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into it, as if they had made it all.
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Two other passengers, besides the one, were plodding up the hill by the
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side of the mail. All three were wrapped to the cheekbones and over the
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ears, and wore jack-boots. Not one of the three could have said, from
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anything he saw, what either of the other two was like; and each was
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hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind, as from
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the eyes of the body, of his two companions. In those days, travellers
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were very shy of being confidential on a short notice, for anybody on
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the road might be a robber or in league with robbers. As to the latter,
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when every posting-house and ale-house could produce somebody in
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"the Captain's" pay, ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable
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non-descript, it was the likeliest thing upon the cards. So the guard
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of the Dover mail thought to himself, that Friday night in November, one
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thousand seven hundred and seventy-five, lumbering up Shooter's Hill, as
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he stood on his own particular perch behind the mail, beating his feet,
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and keeping an eye and a hand on the arm-chest before him, where a
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loaded blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight loaded horse-pistols,
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deposited on a substratum of cutlass.
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The Dover mail was in its usual genial position that the guard suspected
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the passengers, the passengers suspected one another and the guard, they
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all suspected everybody else, and the coachman was sure of nothing but
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the horses; as to which cattle he could with a clear conscience have
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taken his oath on the two Testaments that they were not fit for the
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journey.
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"Wo-ho!" said the coachman. "So, then! One more pull and you're at the
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top and be damned to you, for I have had trouble enough to get you to
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it!--Joe!"
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"Halloa!" the guard replied.
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"What o'clock do you make it, Joe?"
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"Ten minutes, good, past eleven."
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"My blood!" ejaculated the vexed coachman, "and not atop of Shooter's
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yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!"
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The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip in a most decided negative,
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made a decided scramble for it, and the three other horses followed
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suit. Once more, the Dover mail struggled on, with the jack-boots of its
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passengers squashing along by its side. They had stopped when the coach
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stopped, and they kept close company with it. If any one of the three
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had had the hardihood to propose to another to walk on a little ahead
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into the mist and darkness, he would have put himself in a fair way of
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getting shot instantly as a highwayman.
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The last burst carried the mail to the summit of the hill. The horses
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stopped to breathe again, and the guard got down to skid the wheel for
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the descent, and open the coach-door to let the passengers in.
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"Tst! Joe!" cried the coachman in a warning voice, looking down from his
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box.
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"What do you say, Tom?"
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They both listened.
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"I say a horse at a canter coming up, Joe."
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"_I_ say a horse at a gallop, Tom," returned the guard, leaving his hold
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of the door, and mounting nimbly to his place. "Gentlemen! In the king's
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name, all of you!"
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With this hurried adjuration, he cocked his blunderbuss, and stood on
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the offensive.
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The passenger booked by this history, was on the coach-step, getting in;
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the two other passengers were close behind him, and about to follow. He
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remained on the step, half in the coach and half out of; they remained
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in the road below him. They all looked from the coachman to the guard,
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and from the guard to the coachman, and listened. The coachman looked
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back and the guard looked back, and even the emphatic leader pricked up
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his ears and looked back, without contradicting.
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The stillness consequent on the cessation of the rumbling and labouring
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of the coach, added to the stillness of the night, made it very quiet
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indeed. The panting of the horses communicated a tremulous motion to
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the coach, as if it were in a state of agitation. The hearts of the
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passengers beat loud enough perhaps to be heard; but at any rate, the
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quiet pause was audibly expressive of people out of breath, and holding
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the breath, and having the pulses quickened by expectation.
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The sound of a horse at a gallop came fast and furiously up the hill.
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"So-ho!" the guard sang out, as loud as he could roar. "Yo there! Stand!
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I shall fire!"
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The pace was suddenly checked, and, with much splashing and floundering,
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a man's voice called from the mist, "Is that the Dover mail?"
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"Never you mind what it is!" the guard retorted. "What are you?"
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"_Is_ that the Dover mail?"
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"Why do you want to know?"
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"I want a passenger, if it is."
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"What passenger?"
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"Mr. Jarvis Lorry."
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Our booked passenger showed in a moment that it was his name. The guard,
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the coachman, and the two other passengers eyed him distrustfully.
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"Keep where you are," the guard called to the voice in the mist,
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"because, if I should make a mistake, it could never be set right in
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your lifetime. Gentleman of the name of Lorry answer straight."
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"What is the matter?" asked the passenger, then, with mildly quavering
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speech. "Who wants me? Is it Jerry?"
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("I don't like Jerry's voice, if it is Jerry," growled the guard to
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himself. "He's hoarser than suits me, is Jerry.")
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"Yes, Mr. Lorry."
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"What is the matter?"
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"A despatch sent after you from over yonder. T. and Co."
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"I know this messenger, guard," said Mr. Lorry, getting down into the
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road--assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two
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passengers, who immediately scrambled into the coach, shut the door, and
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pulled up the window. "He may come close; there's nothing wrong."
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"I hope there ain't, but I can't make so 'Nation sure of that," said the
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guard, in gruff soliloquy. "Hallo you!"
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"Well! And hallo you!" said Jerry, more hoarsely than before.
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"Come on at a footpace! d'ye mind me? And if you've got holsters to that
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saddle o' yourn, don't let me see your hand go nigh 'em. For I'm a devil
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at a quick mistake, and when I make one it takes the form of Lead. So
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now let's look at you."
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The figures of a horse and rider came slowly through the eddying mist,
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and came to the side of the mail, where the passenger stood. The rider
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stooped, and, casting up his eyes at the guard, handed the passenger
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a small folded paper. The rider's horse was blown, and both horse and
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rider were covered with mud, from the hoofs of the horse to the hat of
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the man.
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"Guard!" said the passenger, in a tone of quiet business confidence.
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The watchful guard, with his right hand at the stock of his raised
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blunderbuss, his left at the barrel, and his eye on the horseman,
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answered curtly, "Sir."
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"There is nothing to apprehend. I belong to Tellson's Bank. You must
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know Tellson's Bank in London. I am going to Paris on business. A crown
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to drink. I may read this?"
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"If so be as you're quick, sir."
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He opened it in the light of the coach-lamp on that side, and
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read--first to himself and then aloud: "'Wait at Dover for Mam'selle.'
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It's not long, you see, guard. Jerry, say that my answer was, RECALLED
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TO LIFE."
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Jerry started in his saddle. "That's a Blazing strange answer, too,"
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 said he, at his hoarsest.
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"Take that message back, and they will know that I received this, as
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well as if I wrote. Make the best of your way. Good night."
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With those words the passenger opened the coach-door and got in; not at
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all assisted by his fellow-passengers, who had expeditiously secreted
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their watches and purses in their boots, and were now making a general
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pretence of being asleep. With no more definite purpose than to escape
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the hazard of originating any other kind of action.
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The coach lumbered on again, with heavier wreaths of mist closing round
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it as it began the descent. The guard soon replaced his blunderbuss
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in his arm-chest, and, having looked to the rest of its contents, and
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having looked to the supplementary pistols that he wore in his belt,
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looked to a smaller chest beneath his seat, in which there were a
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few smith's tools, a couple of torches, and a tinder-box. For he was
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furnished with that completeness that if the coach-lamps had been blown
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and stormed out, which did occasionally happen, he had only to shut
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himself up inside, keep the flint and steel sparks well off the straw,
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and get a light with tolerable safety and ease (if he were lucky) in
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five minutes.
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"Tom!" softly over the coach roof.
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"Hallo, Joe."
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"Did you hear the message?"
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"I did, Joe."
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"What did you make of it, Tom?"
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"Nothing at all, Joe."
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"That's a coincidence, too," the guard mused, "for I made the same of it
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myself."
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Jerry, left alone in the mist and darkness, dismounted meanwhile, not
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only to ease his spent horse, but to wipe the mud from his face, and
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shake the wet out of his hat-brim, which might be capable of
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holding about half a gallon. After standing with the bridle over his
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heavily-splashed arm, until the wheels of the mail were no longer within
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hearing and the night was quite still again, he turned to walk down the
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hill.
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"After that there gallop from Temple Bar, old lady, I won't trust your
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fore-legs till I get you on the level," said this hoarse messenger,
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glancing at his mare. "'Recalled to life.' That's a Blazing strange
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message. Much of that wouldn't do for you, Jerry! I say, Jerry! You'd
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be in a Blazing bad way, if recalling to life was to come into fashion,
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Jerry!"
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III. The Night Shadows
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A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is
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constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A
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solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every
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one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every
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room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating
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heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of
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its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! Something of the
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awfulness, even of Death itself, is referable to this. No more can I
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turn the leaves of this dear book that I loved, and vainly hope in time
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to read it all. No more can I look into the depths of this unfathomable
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water, wherein, as momentary lights glanced into it, I have had glimpses
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of buried treasure and other things submerged. It was appointed that the
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book should shut with a spring, for ever and for ever, when I had read
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but a page. It was appointed that the water should be locked in an
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eternal frost, when the light was playing on its surface, and I stood
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in ignorance on the shore. My friend is dead, my neighbour is dead,
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my love, the darling of my soul, is dead; it is the inexorable
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consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was always in that
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individuality, and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end. In
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any of the burial-places of this city through which I pass, is there
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a sleeper more inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their
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innermost personality, to me, or than I am to them?
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As to this, his natural and not to be alienated inheritance, the
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messenger on horseback had exactly the same possessions as the King, the
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first Minister of State, or the richest merchant in London. So with the
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three passengers shut up in the narrow compass of one lumbering old mail
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coach; they were mysteries to one another, as complete as if each had
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been in his own coach and six, or his own coach and sixty, with the
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breadth of a county between him and the next.
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402
The messenger rode back at an easy trot, stopping pretty often at
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ale-houses by the way to drink, but evincing a tendency to keep his
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own counsel, and to keep his hat cocked over his eyes. He had eyes that
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assorted very well with that decoration, being of a surface black, with
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no depth in the colour or form, and much too near together--as if they
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were afraid of being found out in something, singly, if they kept too
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far apart. They had a sinister expression, under an old cocked-hat like
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a three-cornered spittoon, and over a great muffler for the chin and
410
throat, which descended nearly to the wearer's knees. When he stopped
411
for drink, he moved this muffler with his left hand, only while he
412
poured his liquor in with his right; as soon as that was done, he
413
muffled again.
414

415
"No, Jerry, no!" said the messenger, harping on one theme as he rode.
416
"It wouldn't do for you, Jerry. Jerry, you honest tradesman, it wouldn't
417
suit _your_ line of business! Recalled--! Bust me if I don't think he'd
418
been a drinking!"
419

420
His message perplexed his mind to that degree that he was fain, several
421
times, to take off his hat to scratch his head. Except on the crown,
422
which was raggedly bald, he had stiff, black hair, standing jaggedly all
423
over it, and growing down hill almost to his broad, blunt nose. It was
424
so like Smith's work, so much more like the top of a strongly spiked
425
wall than a head of hair, that the best of players at leap-frog might
426
have declined him, as the most dangerous man in the world to go over.
427

428
While he trotted back with the message he was to deliver to the night
429
watchman in his box at the door of Tellson's Bank, by Temple Bar, who
430
was to deliver it to greater authorities within, the shadows of the
431
night took such shapes to him as arose out of the message, and took such
432
shapes to the mare as arose out of _her_ private topics of uneasiness.
433
They seemed to be numerous, for she shied at every shadow on the road.
434

435
What time, the mail-coach lumbered, jolted, rattled, and bumped upon
436
its tedious way, with its three fellow-inscrutables inside. To whom,
437
likewise, the shadows of the night revealed themselves, in the forms
438
their dozing eyes and wandering thoughts suggested.
439

440
Tellson's Bank had a run upon it in the mail. As the bank
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passenger--with an arm drawn through the leathern strap, which did what
442
lay in it to keep him from pounding against the next passenger,
443
and driving him into his corner, whenever the coach got a special
444
jolt--nodded in his place, with half-shut eyes, the little
445
coach-windows, and the coach-lamp dimly gleaming through them, and the
446
bulky bundle of opposite passenger, became the bank, and did a great
447
stroke of business. The rattle of the harness was the chink of money,
448
and more drafts were honoured in five minutes than even Tellson's, with
449
all its foreign and home connection, ever paid in thrice the time. Then
450
the strong-rooms underground, at Tellson's, with such of their valuable
451
stores and secrets as were known to the passenger (and it was not a
452
little that he knew about them), opened before him, and he went in among
453
them with the great keys and the feebly-burning candle, and found them
454
safe, and strong, and sound, and still, just as he had last seen them.
455

456
But, though the bank was almost always with him, and though the coach
457
(in a confused way, like the presence of pain under an opiate) was
458
always with him, there was another current of impression that never
459
ceased to run, all through the night. He was on his way to dig some one
460
out of a grave.
461

462
Now, which of the multitude of faces that showed themselves before him
463
was the true face of the buried person, the shadows of the night did
464
not indicate; but they were all the faces of a man of five-and-forty by
465
years, and they differed principally in the passions they expressed,
466
and in the ghastliness of their worn and wasted state. Pride, contempt,
467
defiance, stubbornness, submission, lamentation, succeeded one another;
468
so did varieties of sunken cheek, cadaverous colour, emaciated hands
469
and figures. But the face was in the main one face, and every head was
470
prematurely white. A hundred times the dozing passenger inquired of this
471
spectre:
472

473
"Buried how long?"
474

475
The answer was always the same: "Almost eighteen years."
476

477
"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?"
478

479
"Long ago."
480

481
"You know that you are recalled to life?"
482

483
"They tell me so."
484

485
"I hope you care to live?"
486

487
"I can't say."
488

489
"Shall I show her to you? Will you come and see her?"
490

491
The answers to this question were various and contradictory. Sometimes
492
the broken reply was, "Wait! It would kill me if I saw her too soon."
493
 Sometimes, it was given in a tender rain of tears, and then it was,
494
"Take me to her." Sometimes it was staring and bewildered, and then it
495
was, "I don't know her. I don't understand."
496

497
After such imaginary discourse, the passenger in his fancy would dig,
498
and dig, dig--now with a spade, now with a great key, now with his
499
hands--to dig this wretched creature out. Got out at last, with earth
500
hanging about his face and hair, he would suddenly fan away to dust. The
501
passenger would then start to himself, and lower the window, to get the
502
reality of mist and rain on his cheek.
503

504
Yet even when his eyes were opened on the mist and rain, on the moving
505
patch of light from the lamps, and the hedge at the roadside retreating
506
by jerks, the night shadows outside the coach would fall into the train
507
of the night shadows within. The real Banking-house by Temple Bar, the
508
real business of the past day, the real strong rooms, the real express
509
sent after him, and the real message returned, would all be there. Out
510
of the midst of them, the ghostly face would rise, and he would accost
511
it again.
512

513
"Buried how long?"
514

515
"Almost eighteen years."
516

517
"I hope you care to live?"
518

519
"I can't say."
520

521
Dig--dig--dig--until an impatient movement from one of the two
522
passengers would admonish him to pull up the window, draw his arm
523
securely through the leathern strap, and speculate upon the two
524
slumbering forms, until his mind lost its hold of them, and they again
525
slid away into the bank and the grave.
526

527
"Buried how long?"
528

529
"Almost eighteen years."
530

531
"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?"
532

533
"Long ago."
534

535
The words were still in his hearing as just spoken--distinctly in
536
his hearing as ever spoken words had been in his life--when the weary
537
passenger started to the consciousness of daylight, and found that the
538
shadows of the night were gone.
539

540
He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There was a
541
ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had been left
542
last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet coppice-wood,
543
in which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still remained
544
upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear,
545
and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful.
546

547
"Eighteen years!" said the passenger, looking at the sun. "Gracious
548
Creator of day! To be buried alive for eighteen years!"
549

550

551

552

553
IV. The Preparation
554

555

556
When the mail got successfully to Dover, in the course of the forenoon,
557
the head drawer at the Royal George Hotel opened the coach-door as his
558
custom was. He did it with some flourish of ceremony, for a mail journey
559
from London in winter was an achievement to congratulate an adventurous
560
traveller upon.
561

562
By that time, there was only one adventurous traveller left be
563
congratulated: for the two others had been set down at their respective
564
roadside destinations. The mildewy inside of the coach, with its damp
565
and dirty straw, its disagreeable smell, and its obscurity, was rather
566
like a larger dog-kennel. Mr. Lorry, the passenger, shaking himself out
567
of it in chains of straw, a tangle of shaggy wrapper, flapping hat, and
568
muddy legs, was rather like a larger sort of dog.
569

570
"There will be a packet to Calais, tomorrow, drawer?"
571

572
"Yes, sir, if the weather holds and the wind sets tolerable fair. The
573
tide will serve pretty nicely at about two in the afternoon, sir. Bed,
574
sir?"
575

576
"I shall not go to bed till night; but I want a bedroom, and a barber."
577

578
"And then breakfast, sir? Yes, sir. That way, sir, if you please.
579
Show Concord! Gentleman's valise and hot water to Concord. Pull off
580
gentleman's boots in Concord. (You will find a fine sea-coal fire, sir.)
581
Fetch barber to Concord. Stir about there, now, for Concord!"
582

583
The Concord bed-chamber being always assigned to a passenger by the
584
mail, and passengers by the mail being always heavily wrapped up from
585
head to foot, the room had the odd interest for the establishment of the
586
Royal George, that although but one kind of man was seen to go into it,
587
all kinds and varieties of men came out of it. Consequently, another
588
drawer, and two porters, and several maids and the landlady, were all
589
loitering by accident at various points of the road between the Concord
590
and the coffee-room, when a gentleman of sixty, formally dressed in a
591
brown suit of clothes, pretty well worn, but very well kept, with large
592
square cuffs and large flaps to the pockets, passed along on his way to
593
his breakfast.
594

595
The coffee-room had no other occupant, that forenoon, than the gentleman
596
in brown. His breakfast-table was drawn before the fire, and as he sat,
597
with its light shining on him, waiting for the meal, he sat so still,
598
that he might have been sitting for his portrait.
599

600
Very orderly and methodical he looked, with a hand on each knee, and a
601
loud watch ticking a sonorous sermon under his flapped waist-coat,
602
as though it pitted its gravity and longevity against the levity and
603
evanescence of the brisk fire. He had a good leg, and was a little vain
604
of it, for his brown stockings fitted sleek and close, and were of a
605
fine texture; his shoes and buckles, too, though plain, were trim. He
606
wore an odd little sleek crisp flaxen wig, setting very close to his
607
head: which wig, it is to be presumed, was made of hair, but which
608
looked far more as though it were spun from filaments of silk or glass.
609
His linen, though not of a fineness in accordance with his stockings,
610
was as white as the tops of the waves that broke upon the neighbouring
611
beach, or the specks of sail that glinted in the sunlight far at sea. A
612
face habitually suppressed and quieted, was still lighted up under the
613
quaint wig by a pair of moist bright eyes that it must have cost
614
their owner, in years gone by, some pains to drill to the composed and
615
reserved expression of Tellson's Bank. He had a healthy colour in his
616
cheeks, and his face, though lined, bore few traces of anxiety.
617
But, perhaps the confidential bachelor clerks in Tellson's Bank were
618
principally occupied with the cares of other people; and perhaps
619
second-hand cares, like second-hand clothes, come easily off and on.
620

621
Completing his resemblance to a man who was sitting for his portrait,
622
Mr. Lorry dropped off to sleep. The arrival of his breakfast roused him,
623
and he said to the drawer, as he moved his chair to it:
624

625
"I wish accommodation prepared for a young lady who may come here at any
626
time to-day. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or she may only ask for a
627
gentleman from Tellson's Bank. Please to let me know."
628

629
"Yes, sir. Tellson's Bank in London, sir?"
630

631
"Yes."
632

633
"Yes, sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your gentlemen in
634
their travelling backwards and forwards betwixt London and Paris, sir. A
635
vast deal of travelling, sir, in Tellson and Company's House."
636

637
"Yes. We are quite a French House, as well as an English one."
638

639
"Yes, sir. Not much in the habit of such travelling yourself, I think,
640
sir?"
641

642
"Not of late years. It is fifteen years since we--since I--came last
643
from France."
644

645
"Indeed, sir? That was before my time here, sir. Before our people's
646
time here, sir. The George was in other hands at that time, sir."
647

648
"I believe so."
649

650
"But I would hold a pretty wager, sir, that a House like Tellson and
651
Company was flourishing, a matter of fifty, not to speak of fifteen
652
years ago?"
653

654
"You might treble that, and say a hundred and fifty, yet not be far from
655
the truth."
656

657
"Indeed, sir!"
658

659
Rounding his mouth and both his eyes, as he stepped backward from the
660
table, the waiter shifted his napkin from his right arm to his left,
661
dropped into a comfortable attitude, and stood surveying the guest while
662
he ate and drank, as from an observatory or watchtower. According to the
663
immemorial usage of waiters in all ages.
664

665
When Mr. Lorry had finished his breakfast, he went out for a stroll on
666
the beach. The little narrow, crooked town of Dover hid itself away
667
from the beach, and ran its head into the chalk cliffs, like a marine
668
ostrich. The beach was a desert of heaps of sea and stones tumbling
669
wildly about, and the sea did what it liked, and what it liked was
670
destruction. It thundered at the town, and thundered at the cliffs, and
671
brought the coast down, madly. The air among the houses was of so strong
672
a piscatory flavour that one might have supposed sick fish went up to be
673
dipped in it, as sick people went down to be dipped in the sea. A little
674
fishing was done in the port, and a quantity of strolling about by
675
night, and looking seaward: particularly at those times when the tide
676
made, and was near flood. Small tradesmen, who did no business whatever,
677
sometimes unaccountably realised large fortunes, and it was remarkable
678
that nobody in the neighbourhood could endure a lamplighter.
679

680
As the day declined into the afternoon, and the air, which had been
681
at intervals clear enough to allow the French coast to be seen, became
682
again charged with mist and vapour, Mr. Lorry's thoughts seemed to cloud
683
too. When it was dark, and he sat before the coffee-room fire, awaiting
684
his dinner as he had awaited his breakfast, his mind was busily digging,
685
digging, digging, in the live red coals.
686

687
A bottle of good claret after dinner does a digger in the red coals no
688
harm, otherwise than as it has a tendency to throw him out of work.
689
Mr. Lorry had been idle a long time, and had just poured out his last
690
glassful of wine with as complete an appearance of satisfaction as is
691
ever to be found in an elderly gentleman of a fresh complexion who has
692
got to the end of a bottle, when a rattling of wheels came up the narrow
693
street, and rumbled into the inn-yard.
694

695
He set down his glass untouched. "This is Mam'selle!" said he.
696

697
In a very few minutes the waiter came in to announce that Miss Manette
698
had arrived from London, and would be happy to see the gentleman from
699
Tellson's.
700

701
"So soon?"
702

703
Miss Manette had taken some refreshment on the road, and required none
704
then, and was extremely anxious to see the gentleman from Tellson's
705
immediately, if it suited his pleasure and convenience.
706

707
The gentleman from Tellson's had nothing left for it but to empty his
708
glass with an air of stolid desperation, settle his odd little flaxen
709
wig at the ears, and follow the waiter to Miss Manette's apartment.
710
It was a large, dark room, furnished in a funereal manner with black
711
horsehair, and loaded with heavy dark tables. These had been oiled and
712
oiled, until the two tall candles on the table in the middle of the room
713
were gloomily reflected on every leaf; as if _they_ were buried, in deep
714
graves of black mahogany, and no light to speak of could be expected
715
from them until they were dug out.
716

717
The obscurity was so difficult to penetrate that Mr. Lorry, picking his
718
way over the well-worn Turkey carpet, supposed Miss Manette to be, for
719
the moment, in some adjacent room, until, having got past the two tall
720
candles, he saw standing to receive him by the table between them and
721
the fire, a young lady of not more than seventeen, in a riding-cloak,
722
and still holding her straw travelling-hat by its ribbon in her hand. As
723
his eyes rested on a short, slight, pretty figure, a quantity of golden
724
hair, a pair of blue eyes that met his own with an inquiring look, and
725
a forehead with a singular capacity (remembering how young and smooth
726
it was), of rifting and knitting itself into an expression that was
727
not quite one of perplexity, or wonder, or alarm, or merely of a bright
728
fixed attention, though it included all the four expressions--as his
729
eyes rested on these things, a sudden vivid likeness passed before him,
730
of a child whom he had held in his arms on the passage across that very
731
Channel, one cold time, when the hail drifted heavily and the sea ran
732
high. The likeness passed away, like a breath along the surface of
733
the gaunt pier-glass behind her, on the frame of which, a hospital
734
procession of negro cupids, several headless and all cripples, were
735
offering black baskets of Dead Sea fruit to black divinities of the
736
feminine gender--and he made his formal bow to Miss Manette.
737

738
"Pray take a seat, sir." In a very clear and pleasant young voice; a
739
little foreign in its accent, but a very little indeed.
740

741
"I kiss your hand, miss," said Mr. Lorry, with the manners of an earlier
742
date, as he made his formal bow again, and took his seat.
743

744
"I received a letter from the Bank, sir, yesterday, informing me that
745
some intelligence--or discovery--"
746

747
"The word is not material, miss; either word will do."
748

749
"--respecting the small property of my poor father, whom I never saw--so
750
long dead--"
751

752
Mr. Lorry moved in his chair, and cast a troubled look towards the
753
hospital procession of negro cupids. As if _they_ had any help for
754
anybody in their absurd baskets!
755

756
"--rendered it necessary that I should go to Paris, there to communicate
757
with a gentleman of the Bank, so good as to be despatched to Paris for
758
the purpose."
759

760
"Myself."
761

762
"As I was prepared to hear, sir."
763

764
She curtseyed to him (young ladies made curtseys in those days), with a
765
pretty desire to convey to him that she felt how much older and wiser he
766
was than she. He made her another bow.
767

768
"I replied to the Bank, sir, that as it was considered necessary, by
769
those who know, and who are so kind as to advise me, that I should go to
770
France, and that as I am an orphan and have no friend who could go with
771
me, I should esteem it highly if I might be permitted to place myself,
772
during the journey, under that worthy gentleman's protection. The
773
gentleman had left London, but I think a messenger was sent after him to
774
beg the favour of his waiting for me here."
775

776
"I was happy," said Mr. Lorry, "to be entrusted with the charge. I shall
777
be more happy to execute it."
778

779
"Sir, I thank you indeed. I thank you very gratefully. It was told me
780
by the Bank that the gentleman would explain to me the details of the
781
business, and that I must prepare myself to find them of a surprising
782
nature. I have done my best to prepare myself, and I naturally have a
783
strong and eager interest to know what they are."
784

785
"Naturally," said Mr. Lorry. "Yes--I--"
786

787
After a pause, he added, again settling the crisp flaxen wig at the
788
ears, "It is very difficult to begin."
789

790
He did not begin, but, in his indecision, met her glance. The young
791
forehead lifted itself into that singular expression--but it was pretty
792
and characteristic, besides being singular--and she raised her hand,
793
as if with an involuntary action she caught at, or stayed some passing
794
shadow.
795

796
"Are you quite a stranger to me, sir?"
797

798
"Am I not?" Mr. Lorry opened his hands, and extended them outwards with
799
an argumentative smile.
800

801
Between the eyebrows and just over the little feminine nose, the line of
802
which was as delicate and fine as it was possible to be, the expression
803
deepened itself as she took her seat thoughtfully in the chair by which
804
she had hitherto remained standing. He watched her as she mused, and the
805
moment she raised her eyes again, went on:
806

807
"In your adopted country, I presume, I cannot do better than address you
808
as a young English lady, Miss Manette?"
809

810
"If you please, sir."
811

812
"Miss Manette, I am a man of business. I have a business charge to
813
acquit myself of. In your reception of it, don't heed me any more than
814
if I was a speaking machine--truly, I am not much else. I will, with
815
your leave, relate to you, miss, the story of one of our customers."
816

817
"Story!"
818

819
He seemed wilfully to mistake the word she had repeated, when he added,
820
in a hurry, "Yes, customers; in the banking business we usually call
821
our connection our customers. He was a French gentleman; a scientific
822
gentleman; a man of great acquirements--a Doctor."
823

824
"Not of Beauvais?"
825

826
"Why, yes, of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, the
827
gentleman was of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, the
828
gentleman was of repute in Paris. I had the honour of knowing him there.
829
Our relations were business relations, but confidential. I was at that
830
time in our French House, and had been--oh! twenty years."
831

832
"At that time--I may ask, at what time, sir?"
833

834
"I speak, miss, of twenty years ago. He married--an English lady--and
835
I was one of the trustees. His affairs, like the affairs of many other
836
French gentlemen and French families, were entirely in Tellson's hands.
837
In a similar way I am, or I have been, trustee of one kind or other for
838
scores of our customers. These are mere business relations, miss;
839
there is no friendship in them, no particular interest, nothing like
840
sentiment. I have passed from one to another, in the course of my
841
business life, just as I pass from one of our customers to another in
842
the course of my business day; in short, I have no feelings; I am a mere
843
machine. To go on--"
844

845
"But this is my father's story, sir; and I begin to think"--the
846
curiously roughened forehead was very intent upon him--"that when I was
847
left an orphan through my mother's surviving my father only two years,
848
it was you who brought me to England. I am almost sure it was you."
849

850
Mr. Lorry took the hesitating little hand that confidingly advanced
851
to take his, and he put it with some ceremony to his lips. He then
852
conducted the young lady straightway to her chair again, and, holding
853
the chair-back with his left hand, and using his right by turns to rub
854
his chin, pull his wig at the ears, or point what he said, stood looking
855
down into her face while she sat looking up into his.
856

857
"Miss Manette, it _was_ I. And you will see how truly I spoke of myself
858
just now, in saying I had no feelings, and that all the relations I hold
859
with my fellow-creatures are mere business relations, when you reflect
860
that I have never seen you since. No; you have been the ward of
861
Tellson's House since, and I have been busy with the other business of
862
Tellson's House since. Feelings! I have no time for them, no chance
863
of them. I pass my whole life, miss, in turning an immense pecuniary
864
Mangle."
865

866
After this odd description of his daily routine of employment, Mr. Lorry
867
flattened his flaxen wig upon his head with both hands (which was most
868
unnecessary, for nothing could be flatter than its shining surface was
869
before), and resumed his former attitude.
870

871
"So far, miss (as you have remarked), this is the story of your
872
regretted father. Now comes the difference. If your father had not died
873
when he did--Don't be frightened! How you start!"
874

875
She did, indeed, start. And she caught his wrist with both her hands.
876

877
"Pray," said Mr. Lorry, in a soothing tone, bringing his left hand from
878
the back of the chair to lay it on the supplicatory fingers that clasped
879
him in so violent a tremble: "pray control your agitation--a matter of
880
business. As I was saying--"
881

882
Her look so discomposed him that he stopped, wandered, and began anew:
883

884
"As I was saying; if Monsieur Manette had not died; if he had suddenly
885
and silently disappeared; if he had been spirited away; if it had not
886
been difficult to guess to what dreadful place, though no art could
887
trace him; if he had an enemy in some compatriot who could exercise a
888
privilege that I in my own time have known the boldest people afraid
889
to speak of in a whisper, across the water there; for instance, the
890
privilege of filling up blank forms for the consignment of any one
891
to the oblivion of a prison for any length of time; if his wife had
892
implored the king, the queen, the court, the clergy, for any tidings of
893
him, and all quite in vain;--then the history of your father would have
894
been the history of this unfortunate gentleman, the Doctor of Beauvais."
895

896
"I entreat you to tell me more, sir."
897

898
"I will. I am going to. You can bear it?"
899

900
"I can bear anything but the uncertainty you leave me in at this
901
moment."
902

903
"You speak collectedly, and you--_are_ collected. That's good!" (Though
904
his manner was less satisfied than his words.) "A matter of business.
905
Regard it as a matter of business--business that must be done. Now
906
if this doctor's wife, though a lady of great courage and spirit,
907
had suffered so intensely from this cause before her little child was
908
born--"
909

910
"The little child was a daughter, sir."
911

912
"A daughter. A-a-matter of business--don't be distressed. Miss, if the
913
poor lady had suffered so intensely before her little child was born,
914
that she came to the determination of sparing the poor child the
915
inheritance of any part of the agony she had known the pains of, by
916
rearing her in the belief that her father was dead--No, don't kneel! In
917
Heaven's name why should you kneel to me!"
918

919
"For the truth. O dear, good, compassionate sir, for the truth!"
920

921
"A--a matter of business. You confuse me, and how can I transact
922
business if I am confused? Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindly
923
mention now, for instance, what nine times ninepence are, or how many
924
shillings in twenty guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be so
925
much more at my ease about your state of mind."
926

927
Without directly answering to this appeal, she sat so still when he had
928
very gently raised her, and the hands that had not ceased to clasp
929
his wrists were so much more steady than they had been, that she
930
communicated some reassurance to Mr. Jarvis Lorry.
931

932
"That's right, that's right. Courage! Business! You have business before
933
you; useful business. Miss Manette, your mother took this course with
934
you. And when she died--I believe broken-hearted--having never slackened
935
her unavailing search for your father, she left you, at two years old,
936
to grow to be blooming, beautiful, and happy, without the dark cloud
937
upon you of living in uncertainty whether your father soon wore his
938
heart out in prison, or wasted there through many lingering years."
939

940
As he said the words he looked down, with an admiring pity, on the
941
flowing golden hair; as if he pictured to himself that it might have
942
been already tinged with grey.
943

944
"You know that your parents had no great possession, and that what
945
they had was secured to your mother and to you. There has been no new
946
discovery, of money, or of any other property; but--"
947

948
He felt his wrist held closer, and he stopped. The expression in the
949
forehead, which had so particularly attracted his notice, and which was
950
now immovable, had deepened into one of pain and horror.
951

952
"But he has been--been found. He is alive. Greatly changed, it is too
953
probable; almost a wreck, it is possible; though we will hope the best.
954
Still, alive. Your father has been taken to the house of an old servant
955
in Paris, and we are going there: I, to identify him if I can: you, to
956
restore him to life, love, duty, rest, comfort."
957

958
A shiver ran through her frame, and from it through his. She said, in a
959
low, distinct, awe-stricken voice, as if she were saying it in a dream,
960

961
"I am going to see his Ghost! It will be his Ghost--not him!"
962

963
Mr. Lorry quietly chafed the hands that held his arm. "There, there,
964
there! See now, see now! The best and the worst are known to you, now.
965
You are well on your way to the poor wronged gentleman, and, with a fair
966
sea voyage, and a fair land journey, you will be soon at his dear side."
967

968
She repeated in the same tone, sunk to a whisper, "I have been free, I
969
have been happy, yet his Ghost has never haunted me!"
970

971
"Only one thing more," said Mr. Lorry, laying stress upon it as a
972
wholesome means of enforcing her attention: "he has been found under
973
another name; his own, long forgotten or long concealed. It would be
974
worse than useless now to inquire which; worse than useless to seek to
975
know whether he has been for years overlooked, or always designedly
976
held prisoner. It would be worse than useless now to make any inquiries,
977
because it would be dangerous. Better not to mention the subject,
978
anywhere or in any way, and to remove him--for a while at all
979
events--out of France. Even I, safe as an Englishman, and even
980
Tellson's, important as they are to French credit, avoid all naming of
981
the matter. I carry about me, not a scrap of writing openly referring
982
to it. This is a secret service altogether. My credentials, entries,
983
and memoranda, are all comprehended in the one line, 'Recalled to Life;'
984
which may mean anything. But what is the matter! She doesn't notice a
985
word! Miss Manette!"
986

987
Perfectly still and silent, and not even fallen back in her chair, she
988
sat under his hand, utterly insensible; with her eyes open and fixed
989
upon him, and with that last expression looking as if it were carved or
990
branded into her forehead. So close was her hold upon his arm, that he
991
feared to detach himself lest he should hurt her; therefore he called
992
out loudly for assistance without moving.
993

994
A wild-looking woman, whom even in his agitation, Mr. Lorry observed to
995
be all of a red colour, and to have red hair, and to be dressed in some
996
extraordinary tight-fitting fashion, and to have on her head a most
997
wonderful bonnet like a Grenadier wooden measure, and good measure too,
998
or a great Stilton cheese, came running into the room in advance of the
999
inn servants, and soon settled the question of his detachment from the
1000
poor young lady, by laying a brawny hand upon his chest, and sending him
1001
flying back against the nearest wall.
1002

1003
("I really think this must be a man!" was Mr. Lorry's breathless
1004
reflection, simultaneously with his coming against the wall.)
1005

1006
"Why, look at you all!" bawled this figure, addressing the inn servants.
1007
"Why don't you go and fetch things, instead of standing there staring
1008
at me? I am not so much to look at, am I? Why don't you go and fetch
1009
things? I'll let you know, if you don't bring smelling-salts, cold
1010
water, and vinegar, quick, I will."
1011

1012
There was an immediate dispersal for these restoratives, and she
1013
softly laid the patient on a sofa, and tended her with great skill and
1014
gentleness: calling her "my precious!" and "my bird!" and spreading her
1015
golden hair aside over her shoulders with great pride and care.
1016

1017
"And you in brown!" she said, indignantly turning to Mr. Lorry;
1018
"couldn't you tell her what you had to tell her, without frightening her
1019
to death? Look at her, with her pretty pale face and her cold hands. Do
1020
you call _that_ being a Banker?"
1021

1022
Mr. Lorry was so exceedingly disconcerted by a question so hard to
1023
answer, that he could only look on, at a distance, with much feebler
1024
sympathy and humility, while the strong woman, having banished the inn
1025
servants under the mysterious penalty of "letting them know" something
1026
not mentioned if they stayed there, staring, recovered her charge by a
1027
regular series of gradations, and coaxed her to lay her drooping head
1028
upon her shoulder.
1029

1030
"I hope she will do well now," said Mr. Lorry.
1031

1032
"No thanks to you in brown, if she does. My darling pretty!"
1033

1034
"I hope," said Mr. Lorry, after another pause of feeble sympathy and
1035
humility, "that you accompany Miss Manette to France?"
1036

1037
"A likely thing, too!" replied the strong woman. "If it was ever
1038
intended that I should go across salt water, do you suppose Providence
1039
would have cast my lot in an island?"
1040

1041
This being another question hard to answer, Mr. Jarvis Lorry withdrew to
1042
consider it.
1043

1044

1045

1046

1047
V. The Wine-shop
1048

1049

1050
A large cask of wine had been dropped and broken, in the street. The
1051
accident had happened in getting it out of a cart; the cask had tumbled
1052
out with a run, the hoops had burst, and it lay on the stones just
1053
outside the door of the wine-shop, shattered like a walnut-shell.
1054

1055
All the people within reach had suspended their business, or their
1056
idleness, to run to the spot and drink the wine. The rough, irregular
1057
stones of the street, pointing every way, and designed, one might have
1058
thought, expressly to lame all living creatures that approached them,
1059
had dammed it into little pools; these were surrounded, each by its own
1060
jostling group or crowd, according to its size. Some men kneeled down,
1061
made scoops of their two hands joined, and sipped, or tried to help
1062
women, who bent over their shoulders, to sip, before the wine had all
1063
run out between their fingers. Others, men and women, dipped in
1064
the puddles with little mugs of mutilated earthenware, or even with
1065
handkerchiefs from women's heads, which were squeezed dry into infants'
1066
mouths; others made small mud-embankments, to stem the wine as it ran;
1067
others, directed by lookers-on up at high windows, darted here and
1068
there, to cut off little streams of wine that started away in new
1069
directions; others devoted themselves to the sodden and lee-dyed
1070
pieces of the cask, licking, and even champing the moister wine-rotted
1071
fragments with eager relish. There was no drainage to carry off the
1072
wine, and not only did it all get taken up, but so much mud got taken up
1073
along with it, that there might have been a scavenger in the street,
1074
if anybody acquainted with it could have believed in such a miraculous
1075
presence.
1076

1077
A shrill sound of laughter and of amused voices--voices of men, women,
1078
and children--resounded in the street while this wine game lasted. There
1079
was little roughness in the sport, and much playfulness. There was a
1080
special companionship in it, an observable inclination on the part
1081
of every one to join some other one, which led, especially among the
1082
luckier or lighter-hearted, to frolicsome embraces, drinking of healths,
1083
shaking of hands, and even joining of hands and dancing, a dozen
1084
together. When the wine was gone, and the places where it had been
1085
most abundant were raked into a gridiron-pattern by fingers, these
1086
demonstrations ceased, as suddenly as they had broken out. The man who
1087
had left his saw sticking in the firewood he was cutting, set it in
1088
motion again; the women who had left on a door-step the little pot of
1089
hot ashes, at which she had been trying to soften the pain in her own
1090
starved fingers and toes, or in those of her child, returned to it; men
1091
with bare arms, matted locks, and cadaverous faces, who had emerged into
1092
the winter light from cellars, moved away, to descend again; and a gloom
1093
gathered on the scene that appeared more natural to it than sunshine.
1094

1095
The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street
1096
in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled. It had
1097
stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and many
1098
wooden shoes. The hands of the man who sawed the wood, left red marks
1099
on the billets; and the forehead of the woman who nursed her baby, was
1100
stained with the stain of the old rag she wound about her head again.
1101
Those who had been greedy with the staves of the cask, had acquired a
1102
tigerish smear about the mouth; and one tall joker so besmirched, his
1103
head more out of a long squalid bag of a nightcap than in it, scrawled
1104
upon a wall with his finger dipped in muddy wine-lees--BLOOD.
1105

1106
The time was to come, when that wine too would be spilled on the
1107
street-stones, and when the stain of it would be red upon many there.
1108

1109
And now that the cloud settled on Saint Antoine, which a momentary
1110
gleam had driven from his sacred countenance, the darkness of it was
1111
heavy--cold, dirt, sickness, ignorance, and want, were the lords in
1112
waiting on the saintly presence--nobles of great power all of them;
1113
but, most especially the last. Samples of a people that had undergone a
1114
terrible grinding and regrinding in the mill, and certainly not in the
1115
fabulous mill which ground old people young, shivered at every corner,
1116
passed in and out at every doorway, looked from every window, fluttered
1117
in every vestige of a garment that the wind shook. The mill which
1118
had worked them down, was the mill that grinds young people old; the
1119
children had ancient faces and grave voices; and upon them, and upon the
1120
grown faces, and ploughed into every furrow of age and coming up afresh,
1121
was the sigh, Hunger. It was prevalent everywhere. Hunger was pushed out
1122
of the tall houses, in the wretched clothing that hung upon poles and
1123
lines; Hunger was patched into them with straw and rag and wood and
1124
paper; Hunger was repeated in every fragment of the small modicum of
1125
firewood that the man sawed off; Hunger stared down from the smokeless
1126
chimneys, and started up from the filthy street that had no offal,
1127
among its refuse, of anything to eat. Hunger was the inscription on the
1128
baker's shelves, written in every small loaf of his scanty stock of
1129
bad bread; at the sausage-shop, in every dead-dog preparation that
1130
was offered for sale. Hunger rattled its dry bones among the roasting
1131
chestnuts in the turned cylinder; Hunger was shred into atomics in every
1132
farthing porringer of husky chips of potato, fried with some reluctant
1133
drops of oil.
1134

1135
Its abiding place was in all things fitted to it. A narrow winding
1136
street, full of offence and stench, with other narrow winding streets
1137
diverging, all peopled by rags and nightcaps, and all smelling of rags
1138
and nightcaps, and all visible things with a brooding look upon them
1139
that looked ill. In the hunted air of the people there was yet some
1140
wild-beast thought of the possibility of turning at bay. Depressed and
1141
slinking though they were, eyes of fire were not wanting among them; nor
1142
compressed lips, white with what they suppressed; nor foreheads knitted
1143
into the likeness of the gallows-rope they mused about enduring, or
1144
inflicting. The trade signs (and they were almost as many as the shops)
1145
were, all, grim illustrations of Want. The butcher and the porkman
1146
painted up, only the leanest scrags of meat; the baker, the coarsest of
1147
meagre loaves. The people rudely pictured as drinking in the wine-shops,
1148
croaked over their scanty measures of thin wine and beer, and were
1149
gloweringly confidential together. Nothing was represented in a
1150
flourishing condition, save tools and weapons; but, the cutler's knives
1151
and axes were sharp and bright, the smith's hammers were heavy, and the
1152
gunmaker's stock was murderous. The crippling stones of the pavement,
1153
with their many little reservoirs of mud and water, had no footways, but
1154
broke off abruptly at the doors. The kennel, to make amends, ran down
1155
the middle of the street--when it ran at all: which was only after heavy
1156
rains, and then it ran, by many eccentric fits, into the houses. Across
1157
the streets, at wide intervals, one clumsy lamp was slung by a rope and
1158
pulley; at night, when the lamplighter had let these down, and lighted,
1159
and hoisted them again, a feeble grove of dim wicks swung in a sickly
1160
manner overhead, as if they were at sea. Indeed they were at sea, and
1161
the ship and crew were in peril of tempest.
1162

1163
For, the time was to come, when the gaunt scarecrows of that region
1164
should have watched the lamplighter, in their idleness and hunger, so
1165
long, as to conceive the idea of improving on his method, and hauling
1166
up men by those ropes and pulleys, to flare upon the darkness of their
1167
condition. But, the time was not come yet; and every wind that blew over
1168
France shook the rags of the scarecrows in vain, for the birds, fine of
1169
song and feather, took no warning.
1170

1171
The wine-shop was a corner shop, better than most others in its
1172
appearance and degree, and the master of the wine-shop had stood outside
1173
it, in a yellow waistcoat and green breeches, looking on at the struggle
1174
for the lost wine. "It's not my affair," said he, with a final shrug
1175
of the shoulders. "The people from the market did it. Let them bring
1176
another."
1177

1178
There, his eyes happening to catch the tall joker writing up his joke,
1179
he called to him across the way:
1180

1181
"Say, then, my Gaspard, what do you do there?"
1182

1183
The fellow pointed to his joke with immense significance, as is often
1184
the way with his tribe. It missed its mark, and completely failed, as is
1185
often the way with his tribe too.
1186

1187
"What now? Are you a subject for the mad hospital?" said the wine-shop
1188
keeper, crossing the road, and obliterating the jest with a handful of
1189
mud, picked up for the purpose, and smeared over it. "Why do you write
1190
in the public streets? Is there--tell me thou--is there no other place
1191
to write such words in?"
1192

1193
In his expostulation he dropped his cleaner hand (perhaps accidentally,
1194
perhaps not) upon the joker's heart. The joker rapped it with his
1195
own, took a nimble spring upward, and came down in a fantastic dancing
1196
attitude, with one of his stained shoes jerked off his foot into his
1197
hand, and held out. A joker of an extremely, not to say wolfishly
1198
practical character, he looked, under those circumstances.
1199

1200
"Put it on, put it on," said the other. "Call wine, wine; and finish
1201
there." With that advice, he wiped his soiled hand upon the joker's
1202
dress, such as it was--quite deliberately, as having dirtied the hand on
1203
his account; and then recrossed the road and entered the wine-shop.
1204

1205
This wine-shop keeper was a bull-necked, martial-looking man of thirty,
1206
and he should have been of a hot temperament, for, although it was a
1207
bitter day, he wore no coat, but carried one slung over his shoulder.
1208
His shirt-sleeves were rolled up, too, and his brown arms were bare to
1209
the elbows. Neither did he wear anything more on his head than his own
1210
crisply-curling short dark hair. He was a dark man altogether, with good
1211
eyes and a good bold breadth between them. Good-humoured looking on
1212
the whole, but implacable-looking, too; evidently a man of a strong
1213
resolution and a set purpose; a man not desirable to be met, rushing
1214
down a narrow pass with a gulf on either side, for nothing would turn
1215
the man.
1216

1217
Madame Defarge, his wife, sat in the shop behind the counter as he
1218
came in. Madame Defarge was a stout woman of about his own age, with
1219
a watchful eye that seldom seemed to look at anything, a large hand
1220
heavily ringed, a steady face, strong features, and great composure of
1221
manner. There was a character about Madame Defarge, from which one might
1222
have predicated that she did not often make mistakes against herself
1223
in any of the reckonings over which she presided. Madame Defarge being
1224
sensitive to cold, was wrapped in fur, and had a quantity of bright
1225
shawl twined about her head, though not to the concealment of her large
1226
earrings. Her knitting was before her, but she had laid it down to pick
1227
her teeth with a toothpick. Thus engaged, with her right elbow supported
1228
by her left hand, Madame Defarge said nothing when her lord came in, but
1229
coughed just one grain of cough. This, in combination with the lifting
1230
of her darkly defined eyebrows over her toothpick by the breadth of a
1231
line, suggested to her husband that he would do well to look round the
1232
shop among the customers, for any new customer who had dropped in while
1233
he stepped over the way.
1234

1235
The wine-shop keeper accordingly rolled his eyes about, until they
1236
rested upon an elderly gentleman and a young lady, who were seated in
1237
a corner. Other company were there: two playing cards, two playing
1238
dominoes, three standing by the counter lengthening out a short supply
1239
of wine. As he passed behind the counter, he took notice that the
1240
elderly gentleman said in a look to the young lady, "This is our man."
1241

1242
"What the devil do _you_ do in that galley there?" said Monsieur Defarge
1243
to himself; "I don't know you."
1244

1245
But, he feigned not to notice the two strangers, and fell into discourse
1246
with the triumvirate of customers who were drinking at the counter.
1247

1248
"How goes it, Jacques?" said one of these three to Monsieur Defarge. "Is
1249
all the spilt wine swallowed?"
1250

1251
"Every drop, Jacques," answered Monsieur Defarge.
1252

1253
When this interchange of Christian name was effected, Madame Defarge,
1254
picking her teeth with her toothpick, coughed another grain of cough,
1255
and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line.
1256

1257
"It is not often," said the second of the three, addressing Monsieur
1258
Defarge, "that many of these miserable beasts know the taste of wine, or
1259
of anything but black bread and death. Is it not so, Jacques?"
1260

1261
"It is so, Jacques," Monsieur Defarge returned.
1262

1263
At this second interchange of the Christian name, Madame Defarge, still
1264
using her toothpick with profound composure, coughed another grain of
1265
cough, and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line.
1266

1267
The last of the three now said his say, as he put down his empty
1268
drinking vessel and smacked his lips.
1269

1270
"Ah! So much the worse! A bitter taste it is that such poor cattle
1271
always have in their mouths, and hard lives they live, Jacques. Am I
1272
right, Jacques?"
1273

1274
"You are right, Jacques," was the response of Monsieur Defarge.
1275

1276
This third interchange of the Christian name was completed at the moment
1277
when Madame Defarge put her toothpick by, kept her eyebrows up, and
1278
slightly rustled in her seat.
1279

1280
"Hold then! True!" muttered her husband. "Gentlemen--my wife!"
1281

1282
The three customers pulled off their hats to Madame Defarge, with three
1283
flourishes. She acknowledged their homage by bending her head, and
1284
giving them a quick look. Then she glanced in a casual manner round the
1285
wine-shop, took up her knitting with great apparent calmness and repose
1286
of spirit, and became absorbed in it.
1287

1288
"Gentlemen," said her husband, who had kept his bright eye observantly
1289
upon her, "good day. The chamber, furnished bachelor-fashion, that you
1290
wished to see, and were inquiring for when I stepped out, is on the
1291
fifth floor. The doorway of the staircase gives on the little courtyard
1292
close to the left here," pointing with his hand, "near to the window of
1293
my establishment. But, now that I remember, one of you has already been
1294
there, and can show the way. Gentlemen, adieu!"
1295

1296
They paid for their wine, and left the place. The eyes of Monsieur
1297
Defarge were studying his wife at her knitting when the elderly
1298
gentleman advanced from his corner, and begged the favour of a word.
1299

1300
"Willingly, sir," said Monsieur Defarge, and quietly stepped with him to
1301
the door.
1302

1303
Their conference was very short, but very decided. Almost at the first
1304
word, Monsieur Defarge started and became deeply attentive. It had
1305
not lasted a minute, when he nodded and went out. The gentleman then
1306
beckoned to the young lady, and they, too, went out. Madame Defarge
1307
knitted with nimble fingers and steady eyebrows, and saw nothing.
1308

1309
Mr. Jarvis Lorry and Miss Manette, emerging from the wine-shop thus,
1310
joined Monsieur Defarge in the doorway to which he had directed his own
1311
company just before. It opened from a stinking little black courtyard,
1312
and was the general public entrance to a great pile of houses, inhabited
1313
by a great number of people. In the gloomy tile-paved entry to the
1314
gloomy tile-paved staircase, Monsieur Defarge bent down on one knee
1315
to the child of his old master, and put her hand to his lips. It was
1316
a gentle action, but not at all gently done; a very remarkable
1317
transformation had come over him in a few seconds. He had no good-humour
1318
in his face, nor any openness of aspect left, but had become a secret,
1319
angry, dangerous man.
1320

1321
"It is very high; it is a little difficult. Better to begin slowly."
1322
 Thus, Monsieur Defarge, in a stern voice, to Mr. Lorry, as they began
1323
ascending the stairs.
1324

1325
"Is he alone?" the latter whispered.
1326

1327
"Alone! God help him, who should be with him!" said the other, in the
1328
same low voice.
1329

1330
"Is he always alone, then?"
1331

1332
"Yes."
1333

1334
"Of his own desire?"
1335

1336
"Of his own necessity. As he was, when I first saw him after they
1337
found me and demanded to know if I would take him, and, at my peril be
1338
discreet--as he was then, so he is now."
1339

1340
"He is greatly changed?"
1341

1342
"Changed!"
1343

1344
The keeper of the wine-shop stopped to strike the wall with his hand,
1345
and mutter a tremendous curse. No direct answer could have been half so
1346
forcible. Mr. Lorry's spirits grew heavier and heavier, as he and his
1347
two companions ascended higher and higher.
1348

1349
Such a staircase, with its accessories, in the older and more crowded
1350
parts of Paris, would be bad enough now; but, at that time, it was vile
1351
indeed to unaccustomed and unhardened senses. Every little habitation
1352
within the great foul nest of one high building--that is to say,
1353
the room or rooms within every door that opened on the general
1354
staircase--left its own heap of refuse on its own landing, besides
1355
flinging other refuse from its own windows. The uncontrollable and
1356
hopeless mass of decomposition so engendered, would have polluted
1357
the air, even if poverty and deprivation had not loaded it with their
1358
intangible impurities; the two bad sources combined made it almost
1359
insupportable. Through such an atmosphere, by a steep dark shaft of dirt
1360
and poison, the way lay. Yielding to his own disturbance of mind, and to
1361
his young companion's agitation, which became greater every instant, Mr.
1362
Jarvis Lorry twice stopped to rest. Each of these stoppages was made
1363
at a doleful grating, by which any languishing good airs that were left
1364
uncorrupted, seemed to escape, and all spoilt and sickly vapours seemed
1365
to crawl in. Through the rusted bars, tastes, rather than glimpses, were
1366
caught of the jumbled neighbourhood; and nothing within range, nearer
1367
or lower than the summits of the two great towers of Notre-Dame, had any
1368
promise on it of healthy life or wholesome aspirations.
1369

1370
At last, the top of the staircase was gained, and they stopped for the
1371
third time. There was yet an upper staircase, of a steeper inclination
1372
and of contracted dimensions, to be ascended, before the garret story
1373
was reached. The keeper of the wine-shop, always going a little in
1374
advance, and always going on the side which Mr. Lorry took, as though he
1375
dreaded to be asked any question by the young lady, turned himself about
1376
here, and, carefully feeling in the pockets of the coat he carried over
1377
his shoulder, took out a key.
1378

1379
"The door is locked then, my friend?" said Mr. Lorry, surprised.
1380

1381
"Ay. Yes," was the grim reply of Monsieur Defarge.
1382

1383
"You think it necessary to keep the unfortunate gentleman so retired?"
1384

1385
"I think it necessary to turn the key." Monsieur Defarge whispered it
1386
closer in his ear, and frowned heavily.
1387

1388
"Why?"
1389

1390
"Why! Because he has lived so long, locked up, that he would be
1391
frightened--rave--tear himself to pieces--die--come to I know not what
1392
harm--if his door was left open."
1393

1394
"Is it possible!" exclaimed Mr. Lorry.
1395

1396
"Is it possible!" repeated Defarge, bitterly. "Yes. And a beautiful
1397
world we live in, when it _is_ possible, and when many other such things
1398
are possible, and not only possible, but done--done, see you!--under
1399
that sky there, every day. Long live the Devil. Let us go on."
1400

1401
This dialogue had been held in so very low a whisper, that not a word
1402
of it had reached the young lady's ears. But, by this time she trembled
1403
under such strong emotion, and her face expressed such deep anxiety,
1404
and, above all, such dread and terror, that Mr. Lorry felt it incumbent
1405
on him to speak a word or two of reassurance.
1406

1407
"Courage, dear miss! Courage! Business! The worst will be over in a
1408
moment; it is but passing the room-door, and the worst is over. Then,
1409
all the good you bring to him, all the relief, all the happiness you
1410
bring to him, begin. Let our good friend here, assist you on that side.
1411
That's well, friend Defarge. Come, now. Business, business!"
1412

1413
They went up slowly and softly. The staircase was short, and they were
1414
soon at the top. There, as it had an abrupt turn in it, they came all at
1415
once in sight of three men, whose heads were bent down close together at
1416
the side of a door, and who were intently looking into the room to which
1417
the door belonged, through some chinks or holes in the wall. On hearing
1418
footsteps close at hand, these three turned, and rose, and showed
1419
themselves to be the three of one name who had been drinking in the
1420
wine-shop.
1421

1422
"I forgot them in the surprise of your visit," explained Monsieur
1423
Defarge. "Leave us, good boys; we have business here."
1424

1425
The three glided by, and went silently down.
1426

1427
There appearing to be no other door on that floor, and the keeper of
1428
the wine-shop going straight to this one when they were left alone, Mr.
1429
Lorry asked him in a whisper, with a little anger:
1430

1431
"Do you make a show of Monsieur Manette?"
1432

1433
"I show him, in the way you have seen, to a chosen few."
1434

1435
"Is that well?"
1436

1437
"_I_ think it is well."
1438

1439
"Who are the few? How do you choose them?"
1440

1441
"I choose them as real men, of my name--Jacques is my name--to whom the
1442
sight is likely to do good. Enough; you are English; that is another
1443
thing. Stay there, if you please, a little moment."
1444

1445
With an admonitory gesture to keep them back, he stooped, and looked in
1446
through the crevice in the wall. Soon raising his head again, he struck
1447
twice or thrice upon the door--evidently with no other object than to
1448
make a noise there. With the same intention, he drew the key across it,
1449
three or four times, before he put it clumsily into the lock, and turned
1450
it as heavily as he could.
1451

1452
The door slowly opened inward under his hand, and he looked into the
1453
room and said something. A faint voice answered something. Little more
1454
than a single syllable could have been spoken on either side.
1455

1456
He looked back over his shoulder, and beckoned them to enter. Mr. Lorry
1457
got his arm securely round the daughter's waist, and held her; for he
1458
felt that she was sinking.
1459

1460
"A-a-a-business, business!" he urged, with a moisture that was not of
1461
business shining on his cheek. "Come in, come in!"
1462

1463
"I am afraid of it," she answered, shuddering.
1464

1465
"Of it? What?"
1466

1467
"I mean of him. Of my father."
1468

1469
Rendered in a manner desperate, by her state and by the beckoning of
1470
their conductor, he drew over his neck the arm that shook upon his
1471
shoulder, lifted her a little, and hurried her into the room. He sat her
1472
down just within the door, and held her, clinging to him.
1473

1474
Defarge drew out the key, closed the door, locked it on the inside,
1475
took out the key again, and held it in his hand. All this he did,
1476
methodically, and with as loud and harsh an accompaniment of noise as he
1477
could make. Finally, he walked across the room with a measured tread to
1478
where the window was. He stopped there, and faced round.
1479

1480
The garret, built to be a depository for firewood and the like, was dim
1481
and dark: for, the window of dormer shape, was in truth a door in the
1482
roof, with a little crane over it for the hoisting up of stores from
1483
the street: unglazed, and closing up the middle in two pieces, like any
1484
other door of French construction. To exclude the cold, one half of this
1485
door was fast closed, and the other was opened but a very little way.
1486
Such a scanty portion of light was admitted through these means, that it
1487
was difficult, on first coming in, to see anything; and long habit
1488
alone could have slowly formed in any one, the ability to do any work
1489
requiring nicety in such obscurity. Yet, work of that kind was being
1490
done in the garret; for, with his back towards the door, and his face
1491
towards the window where the keeper of the wine-shop stood looking at
1492
him, a white-haired man sat on a low bench, stooping forward and very
1493
busy, making shoes.
1494

1495

1496

1497

1498
VI. The Shoemaker
1499

1500

1501
"Good day!" said Monsieur Defarge, looking down at the white head that
1502
bent low over the shoemaking.
1503

1504
It was raised for a moment, and a very faint voice responded to the
1505
salutation, as if it were at a distance:
1506

1507
"Good day!"
1508

1509
"You are still hard at work, I see?"
1510

1511
After a long silence, the head was lifted for another moment, and the
1512
voice replied, "Yes--I am working." This time, a pair of haggard eyes
1513
had looked at the questioner, before the face had dropped again.
1514

1515
The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful. It was not the
1516
faintness of physical weakness, though confinement and hard fare no
1517
doubt had their part in it. Its deplorable peculiarity was, that it was
1518
the faintness of solitude and disuse. It was like the last feeble echo
1519
of a sound made long and long ago. So entirely had it lost the life and
1520
resonance of the human voice, that it affected the senses like a once
1521
beautiful colour faded away into a poor weak stain. So sunken and
1522
suppressed it was, that it was like a voice underground. So expressive
1523
it was, of a hopeless and lost creature, that a famished traveller,
1524
wearied out by lonely wandering in a wilderness, would have remembered
1525
home and friends in such a tone before lying down to die.
1526

1527
Some minutes of silent work had passed: and the haggard eyes had looked
1528
up again: not with any interest or curiosity, but with a dull mechanical
1529
perception, beforehand, that the spot where the only visitor they were
1530
aware of had stood, was not yet empty.
1531

1532
"I want," said Defarge, who had not removed his gaze from the shoemaker,
1533
"to let in a little more light here. You can bear a little more?"
1534

1535
The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening,
1536
at the floor on one side of him; then similarly, at the floor on the
1537
other side of him; then, upward at the speaker.
1538

1539
"What did you say?"
1540

1541
"You can bear a little more light?"
1542

1543
"I must bear it, if you let it in." (Laying the palest shadow of a
1544
stress upon the second word.)
1545

1546
The opened half-door was opened a little further, and secured at that
1547
angle for the time. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, and
1548
showed the workman with an unfinished shoe upon his lap, pausing in his
1549
labour. His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at his
1550
feet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly cut, but not very
1551
long, a hollow face, and exceedingly bright eyes. The hollowness and
1552
thinness of his face would have caused them to look large, under his yet
1553
dark eyebrows and his confused white hair, though they had been really
1554
otherwise; but, they were naturally large, and looked unnaturally so.
1555
His yellow rags of shirt lay open at the throat, and showed his body
1556
to be withered and worn. He, and his old canvas frock, and his loose
1557
stockings, and all his poor tatters of clothes, had, in a long seclusion
1558
from direct light and air, faded down to such a dull uniformity of
1559
parchment-yellow, that it would have been hard to say which was which.
1560

1561
He had put up a hand between his eyes and the light, and the very bones
1562
of it seemed transparent. So he sat, with a steadfastly vacant gaze,
1563
pausing in his work. He never looked at the figure before him, without
1564
first looking down on this side of himself, then on that, as if he had
1565
lost the habit of associating place with sound; he never spoke, without
1566
first wandering in this manner, and forgetting to speak.
1567

1568
"Are you going to finish that pair of shoes to-day?" asked Defarge,
1569
motioning to Mr. Lorry to come forward.
1570

1571
"What did you say?"
1572

1573
"Do you mean to finish that pair of shoes to-day?"
1574

1575
"I can't say that I mean to. I suppose so. I don't know."
1576

1577
But, the question reminded him of his work, and he bent over it again.
1578

1579
Mr. Lorry came silently forward, leaving the daughter by the door. When
1580
he had stood, for a minute or two, by the side of Defarge, the shoemaker
1581
looked up. He showed no surprise at seeing another figure, but the
1582
unsteady fingers of one of his hands strayed to his lips as he looked at
1583
it (his lips and his nails were of the same pale lead-colour), and then
1584
the hand dropped to his work, and he once more bent over the shoe. The
1585
look and the action had occupied but an instant.
1586

1587
"You have a visitor, you see," said Monsieur Defarge.
1588

1589
"What did you say?"
1590

1591
"Here is a visitor."
1592

1593
The shoemaker looked up as before, but without removing a hand from his
1594
work.
1595

1596
"Come!" said Defarge. "Here is monsieur, who knows a well-made shoe when
1597
he sees one. Show him that shoe you are working at. Take it, monsieur."
1598

1599
Mr. Lorry took it in his hand.
1600

1601
"Tell monsieur what kind of shoe it is, and the maker's name."
1602

1603
There was a longer pause than usual, before the shoemaker replied:
1604

1605
"I forget what it was you asked me. What did you say?"
1606

1607
"I said, couldn't you describe the kind of shoe, for monsieur's
1608
information?"
1609

1610
"It is a lady's shoe. It is a young lady's walking-shoe. It is in the
1611
present mode. I never saw the mode. I have had a pattern in my hand." He
1612
glanced at the shoe with some little passing touch of pride.
1613

1614
"And the maker's name?" said Defarge.
1615

1616
Now that he had no work to hold, he laid the knuckles of the right hand
1617
in the hollow of the left, and then the knuckles of the left hand in the
1618
hollow of the right, and then passed a hand across his bearded chin, and
1619
so on in regular changes, without a moment's intermission. The task of
1620
recalling him from the vagrancy into which he always sank when he
1621
had spoken, was like recalling some very weak person from a swoon, or
1622
endeavouring, in the hope of some disclosure, to stay the spirit of a
1623
fast-dying man.
1624

1625
"Did you ask me for my name?"
1626

1627
"Assuredly I did."
1628

1629
"One Hundred and Five, North Tower."
1630

1631
"Is that all?"
1632

1633
"One Hundred and Five, North Tower."
1634

1635
With a weary sound that was not a sigh, nor a groan, he bent to work
1636
again, until the silence was again broken.
1637

1638
"You are not a shoemaker by trade?" said Mr. Lorry, looking steadfastly
1639
at him.
1640

1641
His haggard eyes turned to Defarge as if he would have transferred the
1642
question to him: but as no help came from that quarter, they turned back
1643
on the questioner when they had sought the ground.
1644

1645
"I am not a shoemaker by trade? No, I was not a shoemaker by trade. I-I
1646
learnt it here. I taught myself. I asked leave to--"
1647

1648
He lapsed away, even for minutes, ringing those measured changes on his
1649
hands the whole time. His eyes came slowly back, at last, to the face
1650
from which they had wandered; when they rested on it, he started, and
1651
resumed, in the manner of a sleeper that moment awake, reverting to a
1652
subject of last night.
1653

1654
"I asked leave to teach myself, and I got it with much difficulty after
1655
a long while, and I have made shoes ever since."
1656

1657
As he held out his hand for the shoe that had been taken from him, Mr.
1658
Lorry said, still looking steadfastly in his face:
1659

1660
"Monsieur Manette, do you remember nothing of me?"
1661

1662
The shoe dropped to the ground, and he sat looking fixedly at the
1663
questioner.
1664

1665
"Monsieur Manette"; Mr. Lorry laid his hand upon Defarge's arm; "do you
1666
remember nothing of this man? Look at him. Look at me. Is there no old
1667
banker, no old business, no old servant, no old time, rising in your
1668
mind, Monsieur Manette?"
1669

1670
As the captive of many years sat looking fixedly, by turns, at Mr.
1671
Lorry and at Defarge, some long obliterated marks of an actively intent
1672
intelligence in the middle of the forehead, gradually forced themselves
1673
through the black mist that had fallen on him. They were overclouded
1674
again, they were fainter, they were gone; but they had been there. And
1675
so exactly was the expression repeated on the fair young face of her who
1676
had crept along the wall to a point where she could see him, and where
1677
she now stood looking at him, with hands which at first had been only
1678
raised in frightened compassion, if not even to keep him off and
1679
shut out the sight of him, but which were now extending towards him,
1680
trembling with eagerness to lay the spectral face upon her warm young
1681
breast, and love it back to life and hope--so exactly was the expression
1682
repeated (though in stronger characters) on her fair young face, that it
1683
looked as though it had passed like a moving light, from him to her.
1684

1685
Darkness had fallen on him in its place. He looked at the two, less and
1686
less attentively, and his eyes in gloomy abstraction sought the ground
1687
and looked about him in the old way. Finally, with a deep long sigh, he
1688
took the shoe up, and resumed his work.
1689

1690
"Have you recognised him, monsieur?" asked Defarge in a whisper.
1691

1692
"Yes; for a moment. At first I thought it quite hopeless, but I have
1693
unquestionably seen, for a single moment, the face that I once knew so
1694
well. Hush! Let us draw further back. Hush!"
1695

1696
She had moved from the wall of the garret, very near to the bench on
1697
which he sat. There was something awful in his unconsciousness of the
1698
figure that could have put out its hand and touched him as he stooped
1699
over his labour.
1700

1701
Not a word was spoken, not a sound was made. She stood, like a spirit,
1702
beside him, and he bent over his work.
1703

1704
It happened, at length, that he had occasion to change the instrument
1705
in his hand, for his shoemaker's knife. It lay on that side of him
1706
which was not the side on which she stood. He had taken it up, and was
1707
stooping to work again, when his eyes caught the skirt of her dress. He
1708
raised them, and saw her face. The two spectators started forward,
1709
but she stayed them with a motion of her hand. She had no fear of his
1710
striking at her with the knife, though they had.
1711

1712
He stared at her with a fearful look, and after a while his lips began
1713
to form some words, though no sound proceeded from them. By degrees, in
1714
the pauses of his quick and laboured breathing, he was heard to say:
1715

1716
"What is this?"
1717

1718
With the tears streaming down her face, she put her two hands to her
1719
lips, and kissed them to him; then clasped them on her breast, as if she
1720
laid his ruined head there.
1721

1722
"You are not the gaoler's daughter?"
1723

1724
She sighed "No."
1725

1726
"Who are you?"
1727

1728
Not yet trusting the tones of her voice, she sat down on the bench
1729
beside him. He recoiled, but she laid her hand upon his arm. A strange
1730
thrill struck him when she did so, and visibly passed over his frame; he
1731
laid the knife down softly, as he sat staring at her.
1732

1733
Her golden hair, which she wore in long curls, had been hurriedly pushed
1734
aside, and fell down over her neck. Advancing his hand by little and
1735
little, he took it up and looked at it. In the midst of the action
1736
he went astray, and, with another deep sigh, fell to work at his
1737
shoemaking.
1738

1739
But not for long. Releasing his arm, she laid her hand upon his
1740
shoulder. After looking doubtfully at it, two or three times, as if to
1741
be sure that it was really there, he laid down his work, put his hand
1742
to his neck, and took off a blackened string with a scrap of folded rag
1743
attached to it. He opened this, carefully, on his knee, and it contained
1744
a very little quantity of hair: not more than one or two long golden
1745
hairs, which he had, in some old day, wound off upon his finger.
1746

1747
He took her hair into his hand again, and looked closely at it. "It is
1748
the same. How can it be! When was it! How was it!"
1749

1750
As the concentrated expression returned to his forehead, he seemed to
1751
become conscious that it was in hers too. He turned her full to the
1752
light, and looked at her.
1753

1754
"She had laid her head upon my shoulder, that night when I was summoned
1755
out--she had a fear of my going, though I had none--and when I was
1756
brought to the North Tower they found these upon my sleeve. 'You will
1757
leave me them? They can never help me to escape in the body, though they
1758
may in the spirit.' Those were the words I said. I remember them very
1759
well."
1760

1761
He formed this speech with his lips many times before he could utter it.
1762
But when he did find spoken words for it, they came to him coherently,
1763
though slowly.
1764

1765
"How was this?--_Was it you_?"
1766

1767
Once more, the two spectators started, as he turned upon her with a
1768
frightful suddenness. But she sat perfectly still in his grasp, and only
1769
said, in a low voice, "I entreat you, good gentlemen, do not come near
1770
us, do not speak, do not move!"
1771

1772
"Hark!" he exclaimed. "Whose voice was that?"
1773

1774
His hands released her as he uttered this cry, and went up to his white
1775
hair, which they tore in a frenzy. It died out, as everything but his
1776
shoemaking did die out of him, and he refolded his little packet and
1777
tried to secure it in his breast; but he still looked at her, and
1778
gloomily shook his head.
1779

1780
"No, no, no; you are too young, too blooming. It can't be. See what the
1781
prisoner is. These are not the hands she knew, this is not the face
1782
she knew, this is not a voice she ever heard. No, no. She was--and He
1783
was--before the slow years of the North Tower--ages ago. What is your
1784
name, my gentle angel?"
1785

1786
Hailing his softened tone and manner, his daughter fell upon her knees
1787
before him, with her appealing hands upon his breast.
1788

1789
"O, sir, at another time you shall know my name, and who my mother was,
1790
and who my father, and how I never knew their hard, hard history. But I
1791
cannot tell you at this time, and I cannot tell you here. All that I may
1792
tell you, here and now, is, that I pray to you to touch me and to bless
1793
me. Kiss me, kiss me! O my dear, my dear!"
1794

1795
His cold white head mingled with her radiant hair, which warmed and
1796
lighted it as though it were the light of Freedom shining on him.
1797

1798
"If you hear in my voice--I don't know that it is so, but I hope it
1799
is--if you hear in my voice any resemblance to a voice that once was
1800
sweet music in your ears, weep for it, weep for it! If you touch, in
1801
touching my hair, anything that recalls a beloved head that lay on your
1802
breast when you were young and free, weep for it, weep for it! If, when
1803
I hint to you of a Home that is before us, where I will be true to you
1804
with all my duty and with all my faithful service, I bring back the
1805
remembrance of a Home long desolate, while your poor heart pined away,
1806
weep for it, weep for it!"
1807

1808
She held him closer round the neck, and rocked him on her breast like a
1809
child.
1810

1811
"If, when I tell you, dearest dear, that your agony is over, and that I
1812
have come here to take you from it, and that we go to England to be at
1813
peace and at rest, I cause you to think of your useful life laid waste,
1814
and of our native France so wicked to you, weep for it, weep for it! And
1815
if, when I shall tell you of my name, and of my father who is living,
1816
and of my mother who is dead, you learn that I have to kneel to my
1817
honoured father, and implore his pardon for having never for his sake
1818
striven all day and lain awake and wept all night, because the love of
1819
my poor mother hid his torture from me, weep for it, weep for it! Weep
1820
for her, then, and for me! Good gentlemen, thank God! I feel his sacred
1821
tears upon my face, and his sobs strike against my heart. O, see! Thank
1822
God for us, thank God!"
1823

1824
He had sunk in her arms, and his face dropped on her breast: a sight so
1825
touching, yet so terrible in the tremendous wrong and suffering which
1826
had gone before it, that the two beholders covered their faces.
1827

1828
When the quiet of the garret had been long undisturbed, and his heaving
1829
breast and shaken form had long yielded to the calm that must follow all
1830
storms--emblem to humanity, of the rest and silence into which the storm
1831
called Life must hush at last--they came forward to raise the father and
1832
daughter from the ground. He had gradually dropped to the floor, and lay
1833
there in a lethargy, worn out. She had nestled down with him, that his
1834
head might lie upon her arm; and her hair drooping over him curtained
1835
him from the light.
1836

1837
"If, without disturbing him," she said, raising her hand to Mr. Lorry as
1838
he stooped over them, after repeated blowings of his nose, "all could be
1839
arranged for our leaving Paris at once, so that, from the very door, he
1840
could be taken away--"
1841

1842
"But, consider. Is he fit for the journey?" asked Mr. Lorry.
1843

1844
"More fit for that, I think, than to remain in this city, so dreadful to
1845
him."
1846

1847
"It is true," said Defarge, who was kneeling to look on and hear. "More
1848
than that; Monsieur Manette is, for all reasons, best out of France.
1849
Say, shall I hire a carriage and post-horses?"
1850

1851
"That's business," said Mr. Lorry, resuming on the shortest notice his
1852
methodical manners; "and if business is to be done, I had better do it."
1853

1854
"Then be so kind," urged Miss Manette, "as to leave us here. You see how
1855
composed he has become, and you cannot be afraid to leave him with me
1856
now. Why should you be? If you will lock the door to secure us from
1857
interruption, I do not doubt that you will find him, when you come back,
1858
as quiet as you leave him. In any case, I will take care of him until
1859
you return, and then we will remove him straight."
1860

1861
Both Mr. Lorry and Defarge were rather disinclined to this course, and
1862
in favour of one of them remaining. But, as there were not only carriage
1863
and horses to be seen to, but travelling papers; and as time pressed,
1864
for the day was drawing to an end, it came at last to their hastily
1865
dividing the business that was necessary to be done, and hurrying away
1866
to do it.
1867

1868
Then, as the darkness closed in, the daughter laid her head down on the
1869
hard ground close at the father's side, and watched him. The darkness
1870
deepened and deepened, and they both lay quiet, until a light gleamed
1871
through the chinks in the wall.
1872

1873
Mr. Lorry and Monsieur Defarge had made all ready for the journey, and
1874
had brought with them, besides travelling cloaks and wrappers, bread and
1875
meat, wine, and hot coffee. Monsieur Defarge put this provender, and the
1876
lamp he carried, on the shoemaker's bench (there was nothing else in the
1877
garret but a pallet bed), and he and Mr. Lorry roused the captive, and
1878
assisted him to his feet.
1879

1880
No human intelligence could have read the mysteries of his mind, in
1881
the scared blank wonder of his face. Whether he knew what had happened,
1882
whether he recollected what they had said to him, whether he knew that
1883
he was free, were questions which no sagacity could have solved. They
1884
tried speaking to him; but, he was so confused, and so very slow to
1885
answer, that they took fright at his bewilderment, and agreed for
1886
the time to tamper with him no more. He had a wild, lost manner of
1887
occasionally clasping his head in his hands, that had not been seen
1888
in him before; yet, he had some pleasure in the mere sound of his
1889
daughter's voice, and invariably turned to it when she spoke.
1890

1891
In the submissive way of one long accustomed to obey under coercion, he
1892
ate and drank what they gave him to eat and drink, and put on the cloak
1893
and other wrappings, that they gave him to wear. He readily responded to
1894
his daughter's drawing her arm through his, and took--and kept--her hand
1895
in both his own.
1896

1897
They began to descend; Monsieur Defarge going first with the lamp, Mr.
1898
Lorry closing the little procession. They had not traversed many steps
1899
of the long main staircase when he stopped, and stared at the roof and
1900
round at the walls.
1901

1902
"You remember the place, my father? You remember coming up here?"
1903

1904
"What did you say?"
1905

1906
But, before she could repeat the question, he murmured an answer as if
1907
she had repeated it.
1908

1909
"Remember? No, I don't remember. It was so very long ago."
1910

1911
That he had no recollection whatever of his having been brought from his
1912
prison to that house, was apparent to them. They heard him mutter,
1913
"One Hundred and Five, North Tower;" and when he looked about him, it
1914
evidently was for the strong fortress-walls which had long encompassed
1915
him. On their reaching the courtyard he instinctively altered his
1916
tread, as being in expectation of a drawbridge; and when there was
1917
no drawbridge, and he saw the carriage waiting in the open street, he
1918
dropped his daughter's hand and clasped his head again.
1919

1920
No crowd was about the door; no people were discernible at any of the
1921
many windows; not even a chance passerby was in the street. An unnatural
1922
silence and desertion reigned there. Only one soul was to be seen, and
1923
that was Madame Defarge--who leaned against the door-post, knitting, and
1924
saw nothing.
1925

1926
The prisoner had got into a coach, and his daughter had followed
1927
him, when Mr. Lorry's feet were arrested on the step by his asking,
1928
miserably, for his shoemaking tools and the unfinished shoes. Madame
1929
Defarge immediately called to her husband that she would get them, and
1930
went, knitting, out of the lamplight, through the courtyard. She quickly
1931
brought them down and handed them in;--and immediately afterwards leaned
1932
against the door-post, knitting, and saw nothing.
1933

1934
Defarge got upon the box, and gave the word "To the Barrier!" The
1935
postilion cracked his whip, and they clattered away under the feeble
1936
over-swinging lamps.
1937

1938
Under the over-swinging lamps--swinging ever brighter in the better
1939
streets, and ever dimmer in the worse--and by lighted shops, gay crowds,
1940
illuminated coffee-houses, and theatre-doors, to one of the city
1941
gates. Soldiers with lanterns, at the guard-house there. "Your papers,
1942
travellers!" "See here then, Monsieur the Officer," said Defarge,
1943
getting down, and taking him gravely apart, "these are the papers of
1944
monsieur inside, with the white head. They were consigned to me, with
1945
him, at the--" He dropped his voice, there was a flutter among the
1946
military lanterns, and one of them being handed into the coach by an arm
1947
in uniform, the eyes connected with the arm looked, not an every day
1948
or an every night look, at monsieur with the white head. "It is well.
1949
Forward!" from the uniform. "Adieu!" from Defarge. And so, under a short
1950
grove of feebler and feebler over-swinging lamps, out under the great
1951
grove of stars.
1952

1953
Beneath that arch of unmoved and eternal lights; some, so remote from
1954
this little earth that the learned tell us it is doubtful whether their
1955
rays have even yet discovered it, as a point in space where anything
1956
is suffered or done: the shadows of the night were broad and black.
1957
All through the cold and restless interval, until dawn, they once more
1958
whispered in the ears of Mr. Jarvis Lorry--sitting opposite the buried
1959
man who had been dug out, and wondering what subtle powers were for ever
1960
lost to him, and what were capable of restoration--the old inquiry:
1961

1962
"I hope you care to be recalled to life?"
1963

1964
And the old answer:
1965

1966
"I can't say."
1967

1968

1969
The end of the first book.
1970

1971

1972

1973

1974

1975
Book the Second--the Golden Thread
1976

1977

1978

1979

1980
I. Five Years Later
1981

1982

1983
Tellson's Bank by Temple Bar was an old-fashioned place, even in the
1984
year one thousand seven hundred and eighty. It was very small, very
1985
dark, very ugly, very incommodious. It was an old-fashioned place,
1986
moreover, in the moral attribute that the partners in the House were
1987
proud of its smallness, proud of its darkness, proud of its ugliness,
1988
proud of its incommodiousness. They were even boastful of its eminence
1989
in those particulars, and were fired by an express conviction that, if
1990
it were less objectionable, it would be less respectable. This was
1991
no passive belief, but an active weapon which they flashed at more
1992
convenient places of business. Tellson's (they said) wanted
1993
no elbow-room, Tellson's wanted no light, Tellson's wanted no
1994
embellishment. Noakes and Co.'s might, or Snooks Brothers' might; but
1995
Tellson's, thank Heaven--!
1996

1997
Any one of these partners would have disinherited his son on the
1998
question of rebuilding Tellson's. In this respect the House was much
1999
on a par with the Country; which did very often disinherit its sons for
2000
suggesting improvements in laws and customs that had long been highly
2001
objectionable, but were only the more respectable.
2002

2003
Thus it had come to pass, that Tellson's was the triumphant perfection
2004
of inconvenience. After bursting open a door of idiotic obstinacy with
2005
a weak rattle in its throat, you fell into Tellson's down two steps,
2006
and came to your senses in a miserable little shop, with two little
2007
counters, where the oldest of men made your cheque shake as if the
2008
wind rustled it, while they examined the signature by the dingiest of
2009
windows, which were always under a shower-bath of mud from Fleet-street,
2010
and which were made the dingier by their own iron bars proper, and the
2011
heavy shadow of Temple Bar. If your business necessitated your seeing
2012
"the House," you were put into a species of Condemned Hold at the back,
2013
where you meditated on a misspent life, until the House came with its
2014
hands in its pockets, and you could hardly blink at it in the dismal
2015
twilight. Your money came out of, or went into, wormy old wooden
2016
drawers, particles of which flew up your nose and down your throat when
2017
they were opened and shut. Your bank-notes had a musty odour, as if they
2018
were fast decomposing into rags again. Your plate was stowed away among
2019
the neighbouring cesspools, and evil communications corrupted its good
2020
polish in a day or two. Your deeds got into extemporised strong-rooms
2021
made of kitchens and sculleries, and fretted all the fat out of their
2022
parchments into the banking-house air. Your lighter boxes of family
2023
papers went up-stairs into a Barmecide room, that always had a great
2024
dining-table in it and never had a dinner, and where, even in the year
2025
one thousand seven hundred and eighty, the first letters written to you
2026
by your old love, or by your little children, were but newly released
2027
from the horror of being ogled through the windows, by the heads
2028
exposed on Temple Bar with an insensate brutality and ferocity worthy of
2029
Abyssinia or Ashantee.
2030

2031
But indeed, at that time, putting to death was a recipe much in vogue
2032
with all trades and professions, and not least of all with Tellson's.
2033
Death is Nature's remedy for all things, and why not Legislation's?
2034
Accordingly, the forger was put to Death; the utterer of a bad note
2035
was put to Death; the unlawful opener of a letter was put to Death; the
2036
purloiner of forty shillings and sixpence was put to Death; the holder
2037
of a horse at Tellson's door, who made off with it, was put to
2038
Death; the coiner of a bad shilling was put to Death; the sounders of
2039
three-fourths of the notes in the whole gamut of Crime, were put to
2040
Death. Not that it did the least good in the way of prevention--it
2041
might almost have been worth remarking that the fact was exactly the
2042
reverse--but, it cleared off (as to this world) the trouble of each
2043
particular case, and left nothing else connected with it to be looked
2044
after. Thus, Tellson's, in its day, like greater places of business,
2045
its contemporaries, had taken so many lives, that, if the heads laid
2046
low before it had been ranged on Temple Bar instead of being privately
2047
disposed of, they would probably have excluded what little light the
2048
ground floor had, in a rather significant manner.
2049

2050
Cramped in all kinds of dim cupboards and hutches at Tellson's, the
2051
oldest of men carried on the business gravely. When they took a young
2052
man into Tellson's London house, they hid him somewhere till he was
2053
old. They kept him in a dark place, like a cheese, until he had the full
2054
Tellson flavour and blue-mould upon him. Then only was he permitted to
2055
be seen, spectacularly poring over large books, and casting his breeches
2056
and gaiters into the general weight of the establishment.
2057

2058
Outside Tellson's--never by any means in it, unless called in--was an
2059
odd-job-man, an occasional porter and messenger, who served as the live
2060
sign of the house. He was never absent during business hours, unless
2061
upon an errand, and then he was represented by his son: a grisly urchin
2062
of twelve, who was his express image. People understood that Tellson's,
2063
in a stately way, tolerated the odd-job-man. The house had always
2064
tolerated some person in that capacity, and time and tide had drifted
2065
this person to the post. His surname was Cruncher, and on the youthful
2066
occasion of his renouncing by proxy the works of darkness, in the
2067
easterly parish church of Hounsditch, he had received the added
2068
appellation of Jerry.
2069

2070
The scene was Mr. Cruncher's private lodging in Hanging-sword-alley,
2071
Whitefriars: the time, half-past seven of the clock on a windy March
2072
morning, Anno Domini seventeen hundred and eighty. (Mr. Cruncher himself
2073
always spoke of the year of our Lord as Anna Dominoes: apparently under
2074
the impression that the Christian era dated from the invention of a
2075
popular game, by a lady who had bestowed her name upon it.)
2076

2077
Mr. Cruncher's apartments were not in a savoury neighbourhood, and were
2078
but two in number, even if a closet with a single pane of glass in it
2079
might be counted as one. But they were very decently kept. Early as
2080
it was, on the windy March morning, the room in which he lay abed was
2081
already scrubbed throughout; and between the cups and saucers arranged
2082
for breakfast, and the lumbering deal table, a very clean white cloth
2083
was spread.
2084

2085
Mr. Cruncher reposed under a patchwork counterpane, like a Harlequin
2086
at home. At first, he slept heavily, but, by degrees, began to roll
2087
and surge in bed, until he rose above the surface, with his spiky hair
2088
looking as if it must tear the sheets to ribbons. At which juncture, he
2089
exclaimed, in a voice of dire exasperation:
2090

2091
"Bust me, if she ain't at it agin!"
2092

2093
A woman of orderly and industrious appearance rose from her knees in a
2094
corner, with sufficient haste and trepidation to show that she was the
2095
person referred to.
2096

2097
"What!" said Mr. Cruncher, looking out of bed for a boot. "You're at it
2098
agin, are you?"
2099

2100
After hailing the morn with this second salutation, he threw a boot at
2101
the woman as a third. It was a very muddy boot, and may introduce the
2102
odd circumstance connected with Mr. Cruncher's domestic economy, that,
2103
whereas he often came home after banking hours with clean boots, he
2104
often got up next morning to find the same boots covered with clay.
2105

2106
"What," said Mr. Cruncher, varying his apostrophe after missing his
2107
mark--"what are you up to, Aggerawayter?"
2108

2109
"I was only saying my prayers."
2110

2111
"Saying your prayers! You're a nice woman! What do you mean by flopping
2112
yourself down and praying agin me?"
2113

2114
"I was not praying against you; I was praying for you."
2115

2116
"You weren't. And if you were, I won't be took the liberty with. Here!
2117
your mother's a nice woman, young Jerry, going a praying agin your
2118
father's prosperity. You've got a dutiful mother, you have, my son.
2119
You've got a religious mother, you have, my boy: going and flopping
2120
herself down, and praying that the bread-and-butter may be snatched out
2121
of the mouth of her only child."
2122

2123
Master Cruncher (who was in his shirt) took this very ill, and, turning
2124
to his mother, strongly deprecated any praying away of his personal
2125
board.
2126

2127
"And what do you suppose, you conceited female," said Mr. Cruncher, with
2128
unconscious inconsistency, "that the worth of _your_ prayers may be?
2129
Name the price that you put _your_ prayers at!"
2130

2131
"They only come from the heart, Jerry. They are worth no more than
2132
that."
2133

2134
"Worth no more than that," repeated Mr. Cruncher. "They ain't worth
2135
much, then. Whether or no, I won't be prayed agin, I tell you. I can't
2136
afford it. I'm not a going to be made unlucky by _your_ sneaking. If
2137
you must go flopping yourself down, flop in favour of your husband and
2138
child, and not in opposition to 'em. If I had had any but a unnat'ral
2139
wife, and this poor boy had had any but a unnat'ral mother, I might
2140
have made some money last week instead of being counter-prayed and
2141
countermined and religiously circumwented into the worst of luck.
2142
B-u-u-ust me!" said Mr. Cruncher, who all this time had been putting
2143
on his clothes, "if I ain't, what with piety and one blowed thing and
2144
another, been choused this last week into as bad luck as ever a poor
2145
devil of a honest tradesman met with! Young Jerry, dress yourself, my
2146
boy, and while I clean my boots keep a eye upon your mother now and
2147
then, and if you see any signs of more flopping, give me a call. For, I
2148
tell you," here he addressed his wife once more, "I won't be gone agin,
2149
in this manner. I am as rickety as a hackney-coach, I'm as sleepy as
2150
laudanum, my lines is strained to that degree that I shouldn't know, if
2151
it wasn't for the pain in 'em, which was me and which somebody else, yet
2152
I'm none the better for it in pocket; and it's my suspicion that you've
2153
been at it from morning to night to prevent me from being the better for
2154
it in pocket, and I won't put up with it, Aggerawayter, and what do you
2155
say now!"
2156

2157
Growling, in addition, such phrases as "Ah! yes! You're religious, too.
2158
You wouldn't put yourself in opposition to the interests of your husband
2159
and child, would you? Not you!" and throwing off other sarcastic sparks
2160
from the whirling grindstone of his indignation, Mr. Cruncher betook
2161
himself to his boot-cleaning and his general preparation for business.
2162
In the meantime, his son, whose head was garnished with tenderer spikes,
2163
and whose young eyes stood close by one another, as his father's did,
2164
kept the required watch upon his mother. He greatly disturbed that poor
2165
woman at intervals, by darting out of his sleeping closet, where he made
2166
his toilet, with a suppressed cry of "You are going to flop, mother.
2167
--Halloa, father!" and, after raising this fictitious alarm, darting in
2168
again with an undutiful grin.
2169

2170
Mr. Cruncher's temper was not at all improved when he came to his
2171
breakfast. He resented Mrs. Cruncher's saying grace with particular
2172
animosity.
2173

2174
"Now, Aggerawayter! What are you up to? At it again?"
2175

2176
His wife explained that she had merely "asked a blessing."
2177

2178
"Don't do it!" said Mr. Crunches looking about, as if he rather expected
2179
to see the loaf disappear under the efficacy of his wife's petitions. "I
2180
ain't a going to be blest out of house and home. I won't have my wittles
2181
blest off my table. Keep still!"
2182

2183
Exceedingly red-eyed and grim, as if he had been up all night at a party
2184
which had taken anything but a convivial turn, Jerry Cruncher worried
2185
his breakfast rather than ate it, growling over it like any four-footed
2186
inmate of a menagerie. Towards nine o'clock he smoothed his ruffled
2187
aspect, and, presenting as respectable and business-like an exterior as
2188
he could overlay his natural self with, issued forth to the occupation
2189
of the day.
2190

2191
It could scarcely be called a trade, in spite of his favourite
2192
description of himself as "a honest tradesman." His stock consisted of
2193
a wooden stool, made out of a broken-backed chair cut down, which stool,
2194
young Jerry, walking at his father's side, carried every morning to
2195
beneath the banking-house window that was nearest Temple Bar: where,
2196
with the addition of the first handful of straw that could be gleaned
2197
from any passing vehicle to keep the cold and wet from the odd-job-man's
2198
feet, it formed the encampment for the day. On this post of his, Mr.
2199
Cruncher was as well known to Fleet-street and the Temple, as the Bar
2200
itself,--and was almost as in-looking.
2201

2202
Encamped at a quarter before nine, in good time to touch his
2203
three-cornered hat to the oldest of men as they passed in to Tellson's,
2204
Jerry took up his station on this windy March morning, with young Jerry
2205
standing by him, when not engaged in making forays through the Bar, to
2206
inflict bodily and mental injuries of an acute description on passing
2207
boys who were small enough for his amiable purpose. Father and son,
2208
extremely like each other, looking silently on at the morning traffic
2209
in Fleet-street, with their two heads as near to one another as the two
2210
eyes of each were, bore a considerable resemblance to a pair of monkeys.
2211
The resemblance was not lessened by the accidental circumstance, that
2212
the mature Jerry bit and spat out straw, while the twinkling eyes of the
2213
youthful Jerry were as restlessly watchful of him as of everything else
2214
in Fleet-street.
2215

2216
The head of one of the regular indoor messengers attached to Tellson's
2217
establishment was put through the door, and the word was given:
2218

2219
"Porter wanted!"
2220

2221
"Hooray, father! Here's an early job to begin with!"
2222

2223
Having thus given his parent God speed, young Jerry seated himself on
2224
the stool, entered on his reversionary interest in the straw his father
2225
had been chewing, and cogitated.
2226

2227
"Al-ways rusty! His fingers is al-ways rusty!" muttered young Jerry.
2228
"Where does my father get all that iron rust from? He don't get no iron
2229
rust here!"
2230

2231

2232

2233

2234
II. A Sight
2235

2236

2237
"You know the Old Bailey well, no doubt?" said one of the oldest of
2238
clerks to Jerry the messenger.
2239

2240
"Ye-es, sir," returned Jerry, in something of a dogged manner. "I _do_
2241
know the Bailey."
2242

2243
"Just so. And you know Mr. Lorry."
2244

2245
"I know Mr. Lorry, sir, much better than I know the Bailey. Much
2246
better," said Jerry, not unlike a reluctant witness at the establishment
2247
in question, "than I, as a honest tradesman, wish to know the Bailey."
2248

2249
"Very well. Find the door where the witnesses go in, and show the
2250
door-keeper this note for Mr. Lorry. He will then let you in."
2251

2252
"Into the court, sir?"
2253

2254
"Into the court."
2255

2256
Mr. Cruncher's eyes seemed to get a little closer to one another, and to
2257
interchange the inquiry, "What do you think of this?"
2258

2259
"Am I to wait in the court, sir?" he asked, as the result of that
2260
conference.
2261

2262
"I am going to tell you. The door-keeper will pass the note to Mr.
2263
Lorry, and do you make any gesture that will attract Mr. Lorry's
2264
attention, and show him where you stand. Then what you have to do, is,
2265
to remain there until he wants you."
2266

2267
"Is that all, sir?"
2268

2269
"That's all. He wishes to have a messenger at hand. This is to tell him
2270
you are there."
2271

2272
As the ancient clerk deliberately folded and superscribed the note,
2273
Mr. Cruncher, after surveying him in silence until he came to the
2274
blotting-paper stage, remarked:
2275

2276
"I suppose they'll be trying Forgeries this morning?"
2277

2278
"Treason!"
2279

2280
"That's quartering," said Jerry. "Barbarous!"
2281

2282
"It is the law," remarked the ancient clerk, turning his surprised
2283
spectacles upon him. "It is the law."
2284

2285
"It's hard in the law to spile a man, I think. It's hard enough to kill
2286
him, but it's wery hard to spile him, sir."
2287

2288
"Not at all," retained the ancient clerk. "Speak well of the law. Take
2289
care of your chest and voice, my good friend, and leave the law to take
2290
care of itself. I give you that advice."
2291

2292
"It's the damp, sir, what settles on my chest and voice," said Jerry. "I
2293
leave you to judge what a damp way of earning a living mine is."
2294

2295
"Well, well," said the old clerk; "we all have our various ways of
2296
gaining a livelihood. Some of us have damp ways, and some of us have dry
2297
ways. Here is the letter. Go along."
2298

2299
Jerry took the letter, and, remarking to himself with less internal
2300
deference than he made an outward show of, "You are a lean old one,
2301
too," made his bow, informed his son, in passing, of his destination,
2302
and went his way.
2303

2304
They hanged at Tyburn, in those days, so the street outside Newgate had
2305
not obtained one infamous notoriety that has since attached to it.
2306
But, the gaol was a vile place, in which most kinds of debauchery and
2307
villainy were practised, and where dire diseases were bred, that came
2308
into court with the prisoners, and sometimes rushed straight from the
2309
dock at my Lord Chief Justice himself, and pulled him off the bench. It
2310
had more than once happened, that the Judge in the black cap pronounced
2311
his own doom as certainly as the prisoner's, and even died before him.
2312
For the rest, the Old Bailey was famous as a kind of deadly inn-yard,
2313
from which pale travellers set out continually, in carts and coaches, on
2314
a violent passage into the other world: traversing some two miles and a
2315
half of public street and road, and shaming few good citizens, if any.
2316
So powerful is use, and so desirable to be good use in the beginning. It
2317
was famous, too, for the pillory, a wise old institution, that inflicted
2318
a punishment of which no one could foresee the extent; also, for
2319
the whipping-post, another dear old institution, very humanising and
2320
softening to behold in action; also, for extensive transactions in
2321
blood-money, another fragment of ancestral wisdom, systematically
2322
leading to the most frightful mercenary crimes that could be committed
2323
under Heaven. Altogether, the Old Bailey, at that date, was a choice
2324
illustration of the precept, that "Whatever is is right;" an aphorism
2325
that would be as final as it is lazy, did it not include the troublesome
2326
consequence, that nothing that ever was, was wrong.
2327

2328
Making his way through the tainted crowd, dispersed up and down this
2329
hideous scene of action, with the skill of a man accustomed to make his
2330
way quietly, the messenger found out the door he sought, and handed in
2331
his letter through a trap in it. For, people then paid to see the play
2332
at the Old Bailey, just as they paid to see the play in Bedlam--only the
2333
former entertainment was much the dearer. Therefore, all the Old Bailey
2334
doors were well guarded--except, indeed, the social doors by which the
2335
criminals got there, and those were always left wide open.
2336

2337
After some delay and demur, the door grudgingly turned on its hinges a
2338
very little way, and allowed Mr. Jerry Cruncher to squeeze himself into
2339
court.
2340

2341
"What's on?" he asked, in a whisper, of the man he found himself next
2342
to.
2343

2344
"Nothing yet."
2345

2346
"What's coming on?"
2347

2348
"The Treason case."
2349

2350
"The quartering one, eh?"
2351

2352
"Ah!" returned the man, with a relish; "he'll be drawn on a hurdle to
2353
be half hanged, and then he'll be taken down and sliced before his own
2354
face, and then his inside will be taken out and burnt while he looks on,
2355
and then his head will be chopped off, and he'll be cut into quarters.
2356
That's the sentence."
2357

2358
"If he's found Guilty, you mean to say?" Jerry added, by way of proviso.
2359

2360
"Oh! they'll find him guilty," said the other. "Don't you be afraid of
2361
that."
2362

2363
Mr. Cruncher's attention was here diverted to the door-keeper, whom he
2364
saw making his way to Mr. Lorry, with the note in his hand. Mr. Lorry
2365
sat at a table, among the gentlemen in wigs: not far from a wigged
2366
gentleman, the prisoner's counsel, who had a great bundle of papers
2367
before him: and nearly opposite another wigged gentleman with his hands
2368
in his pockets, whose whole attention, when Mr. Cruncher looked at him
2369
then or afterwards, seemed to be concentrated on the ceiling of the
2370
court. After some gruff coughing and rubbing of his chin and signing
2371
with his hand, Jerry attracted the notice of Mr. Lorry, who had stood up
2372
to look for him, and who quietly nodded and sat down again.
2373

2374
"What's _he_ got to do with the case?" asked the man he had spoken with.
2375

2376
"Blest if I know," said Jerry.
2377

2378
"What have _you_ got to do with it, then, if a person may inquire?"
2379

2380
"Blest if I know that either," said Jerry.
2381

2382
The entrance of the Judge, and a consequent great stir and settling
2383
down in the court, stopped the dialogue. Presently, the dock became the
2384
central point of interest. Two gaolers, who had been standing there,
2385
went out, and the prisoner was brought in, and put to the bar.
2386

2387
Everybody present, except the one wigged gentleman who looked at the
2388
ceiling, stared at him. All the human breath in the place, rolled
2389
at him, like a sea, or a wind, or a fire. Eager faces strained round
2390
pillars and corners, to get a sight of him; spectators in back rows
2391
stood up, not to miss a hair of him; people on the floor of the court,
2392
laid their hands on the shoulders of the people before them, to help
2393
themselves, at anybody's cost, to a view of him--stood a-tiptoe, got
2394
upon ledges, stood upon next to nothing, to see every inch of him.
2395
Conspicuous among these latter, like an animated bit of the spiked wall
2396
of Newgate, Jerry stood: aiming at the prisoner the beery breath of a
2397
whet he had taken as he came along, and discharging it to mingle with
2398
the waves of other beer, and gin, and tea, and coffee, and what not,
2399
that flowed at him, and already broke upon the great windows behind him
2400
in an impure mist and rain.
2401

2402
The object of all this staring and blaring, was a young man of about
2403
five-and-twenty, well-grown and well-looking, with a sunburnt cheek and
2404
a dark eye. His condition was that of a young gentleman. He was plainly
2405
dressed in black, or very dark grey, and his hair, which was long and
2406
dark, was gathered in a ribbon at the back of his neck; more to be out
2407
of his way than for ornament. As an emotion of the mind will express
2408
itself through any covering of the body, so the paleness which his
2409
situation engendered came through the brown upon his cheek, showing the
2410
soul to be stronger than the sun. He was otherwise quite self-possessed,
2411
bowed to the Judge, and stood quiet.
2412

2413
The sort of interest with which this man was stared and breathed at,
2414
was not a sort that elevated humanity. Had he stood in peril of a less
2415
horrible sentence--had there been a chance of any one of its savage
2416
details being spared--by just so much would he have lost in his
2417
fascination. The form that was to be doomed to be so shamefully mangled,
2418
was the sight; the immortal creature that was to be so butchered
2419
and torn asunder, yielded the sensation. Whatever gloss the various
2420
spectators put upon the interest, according to their several arts and
2421
powers of self-deceit, the interest was, at the root of it, Ogreish.
2422

2423
Silence in the court! Charles Darnay had yesterday pleaded Not Guilty to
2424
an indictment denouncing him (with infinite jingle and jangle) for that
2425
he was a false traitor to our serene, illustrious, excellent, and so
2426
forth, prince, our Lord the King, by reason of his having, on divers
2427
occasions, and by divers means and ways, assisted Lewis, the French
2428
King, in his wars against our said serene, illustrious, excellent, and
2429
so forth; that was to say, by coming and going, between the dominions of
2430
our said serene, illustrious, excellent, and so forth, and those of the
2431
said French Lewis, and wickedly, falsely, traitorously, and otherwise
2432
evil-adverbiously, revealing to the said French Lewis what forces our
2433
said serene, illustrious, excellent, and so forth, had in preparation
2434
to send to Canada and North America. This much, Jerry, with his head
2435
becoming more and more spiky as the law terms bristled it, made out with
2436
huge satisfaction, and so arrived circuitously at the understanding that
2437
the aforesaid, and over and over again aforesaid, Charles Darnay, stood
2438
there before him upon his trial; that the jury were swearing in; and
2439
that Mr. Attorney-General was making ready to speak.
2440

2441
The accused, who was (and who knew he was) being mentally hanged,
2442
beheaded, and quartered, by everybody there, neither flinched from
2443
the situation, nor assumed any theatrical air in it. He was quiet and
2444
attentive; watched the opening proceedings with a grave interest;
2445
and stood with his hands resting on the slab of wood before him, so
2446
composedly, that they had not displaced a leaf of the herbs with which
2447
it was strewn. The court was all bestrewn with herbs and sprinkled with
2448
vinegar, as a precaution against gaol air and gaol fever.
2449

2450
Over the prisoner's head there was a mirror, to throw the light down
2451
upon him. Crowds of the wicked and the wretched had been reflected in
2452
it, and had passed from its surface and this earth's together. Haunted
2453
in a most ghastly manner that abominable place would have been, if the
2454
glass could ever have rendered back its reflections, as the ocean is one
2455
day to give up its dead. Some passing thought of the infamy and disgrace
2456
for which it had been reserved, may have struck the prisoner's mind. Be
2457
that as it may, a change in his position making him conscious of a bar
2458
of light across his face, he looked up; and when he saw the glass his
2459
face flushed, and his right hand pushed the herbs away.
2460

2461
It happened, that the action turned his face to that side of the court
2462
which was on his left. About on a level with his eyes, there sat,
2463
in that corner of the Judge's bench, two persons upon whom his look
2464
immediately rested; so immediately, and so much to the changing of his
2465
aspect, that all the eyes that were turned upon him, turned to them.
2466

2467
The spectators saw in the two figures, a young lady of little more than
2468
twenty, and a gentleman who was evidently her father; a man of a very
2469
remarkable appearance in respect of the absolute whiteness of his hair,
2470
and a certain indescribable intensity of face: not of an active kind,
2471
but pondering and self-communing. When this expression was upon him, he
2472
looked as if he were old; but when it was stirred and broken up--as
2473
it was now, in a moment, on his speaking to his daughter--he became a
2474
handsome man, not past the prime of life.
2475

2476
His daughter had one of her hands drawn through his arm, as she sat by
2477
him, and the other pressed upon it. She had drawn close to him, in her
2478
dread of the scene, and in her pity for the prisoner. Her forehead had
2479
been strikingly expressive of an engrossing terror and compassion
2480
that saw nothing but the peril of the accused. This had been so very
2481
noticeable, so very powerfully and naturally shown, that starers who
2482
had had no pity for him were touched by her; and the whisper went about,
2483
"Who are they?"
2484

2485
Jerry, the messenger, who had made his own observations, in his own
2486
manner, and who had been sucking the rust off his fingers in his
2487
absorption, stretched his neck to hear who they were. The crowd about
2488
him had pressed and passed the inquiry on to the nearest attendant, and
2489
from him it had been more slowly pressed and passed back; at last it got
2490
to Jerry:
2491

2492
"Witnesses."
2493

2494
"For which side?"
2495

2496
"Against."
2497

2498
"Against what side?"
2499

2500
"The prisoner's."
2501

2502
The Judge, whose eyes had gone in the general direction, recalled them,
2503
leaned back in his seat, and looked steadily at the man whose life was
2504
in his hand, as Mr. Attorney-General rose to spin the rope, grind the
2505
axe, and hammer the nails into the scaffold.
2506

2507

2508

2509

2510
III. A Disappointment
2511

2512

2513
Mr. Attorney-General had to inform the jury, that the prisoner before
2514
them, though young in years, was old in the treasonable practices which
2515
claimed the forfeit of his life. That this correspondence with the
2516
public enemy was not a correspondence of to-day, or of yesterday, or
2517
even of last year, or of the year before. That, it was certain the
2518
prisoner had, for longer than that, been in the habit of passing and
2519
repassing between France and England, on secret business of which
2520
he could give no honest account. That, if it were in the nature of
2521
traitorous ways to thrive (which happily it never was), the real
2522
wickedness and guilt of his business might have remained undiscovered.
2523
That Providence, however, had put it into the heart of a person who
2524
was beyond fear and beyond reproach, to ferret out the nature of the
2525
prisoner's schemes, and, struck with horror, to disclose them to his
2526
Majesty's Chief Secretary of State and most honourable Privy Council.
2527
That, this patriot would be produced before them. That, his position and
2528
attitude were, on the whole, sublime. That, he had been the prisoner's
2529
friend, but, at once in an auspicious and an evil hour detecting his
2530
infamy, had resolved to immolate the traitor he could no longer cherish
2531
in his bosom, on the sacred altar of his country. That, if statues
2532
were decreed in Britain, as in ancient Greece and Rome, to public
2533
benefactors, this shining citizen would assuredly have had one. That, as
2534
they were not so decreed, he probably would not have one. That, Virtue,
2535
as had been observed by the poets (in many passages which he well
2536
knew the jury would have, word for word, at the tips of their tongues;
2537
whereat the jury's countenances displayed a guilty consciousness that
2538
they knew nothing about the passages), was in a manner contagious; more
2539
especially the bright virtue known as patriotism, or love of country.
2540
That, the lofty example of this immaculate and unimpeachable witness
2541
for the Crown, to refer to whom however unworthily was an honour, had
2542
communicated itself to the prisoner's servant, and had engendered in him
2543
a holy determination to examine his master's table-drawers and pockets,
2544
and secrete his papers. That, he (Mr. Attorney-General) was prepared to
2545
hear some disparagement attempted of this admirable servant; but that,
2546
in a general way, he preferred him to his (Mr. Attorney-General's)
2547
brothers and sisters, and honoured him more than his (Mr.
2548
Attorney-General's) father and mother. That, he called with confidence
2549
on the jury to come and do likewise. That, the evidence of these two
2550
witnesses, coupled with the documents of their discovering that would be
2551
produced, would show the prisoner to have been furnished with lists of
2552
his Majesty's forces, and of their disposition and preparation, both by
2553
sea and land, and would leave no doubt that he had habitually conveyed
2554
such information to a hostile power. That, these lists could not be
2555
proved to be in the prisoner's handwriting; but that it was all the
2556
same; that, indeed, it was rather the better for the prosecution, as
2557
showing the prisoner to be artful in his precautions. That, the proof
2558
would go back five years, and would show the prisoner already engaged
2559
in these pernicious missions, within a few weeks before the date of the
2560
very first action fought between the British troops and the Americans.
2561
That, for these reasons, the jury, being a loyal jury (as he knew they
2562
were), and being a responsible jury (as _they_ knew they were), must
2563
positively find the prisoner Guilty, and make an end of him, whether
2564
they liked it or not. That, they never could lay their heads upon their
2565
pillows; that, they never could tolerate the idea of their wives laying
2566
their heads upon their pillows; that, they never could endure the notion
2567
of their children laying their heads upon their pillows; in short, that
2568
there never more could be, for them or theirs, any laying of heads upon
2569
pillows at all, unless the prisoner's head was taken off. That head
2570
Mr. Attorney-General concluded by demanding of them, in the name of
2571
everything he could think of with a round turn in it, and on the faith
2572
of his solemn asseveration that he already considered the prisoner as
2573
good as dead and gone.
2574

2575
When the Attorney-General ceased, a buzz arose in the court as if
2576
a cloud of great blue-flies were swarming about the prisoner, in
2577
anticipation of what he was soon to become. When toned down again, the
2578
unimpeachable patriot appeared in the witness-box.
2579

2580
Mr. Solicitor-General then, following his leader's lead, examined the
2581
patriot: John Barsad, gentleman, by name. The story of his pure soul was
2582
exactly what Mr. Attorney-General had described it to be--perhaps, if
2583
it had a fault, a little too exactly. Having released his noble bosom
2584
of its burden, he would have modestly withdrawn himself, but that the
2585
wigged gentleman with the papers before him, sitting not far from Mr.
2586
Lorry, begged to ask him a few questions. The wigged gentleman sitting
2587
opposite, still looking at the ceiling of the court.
2588

2589
Had he ever been a spy himself? No, he scorned the base insinuation.
2590
What did he live upon? His property. Where was his property? He didn't
2591
precisely remember where it was. What was it? No business of anybody's.
2592
Had he inherited it? Yes, he had. From whom? Distant relation. Very
2593
distant? Rather. Ever been in prison? Certainly not. Never in a debtors'
2594
prison? Didn't see what that had to do with it. Never in a debtors'
2595
prison?--Come, once again. Never? Yes. How many times? Two or three
2596
times. Not five or six? Perhaps. Of what profession? Gentleman. Ever
2597
been kicked? Might have been. Frequently? No. Ever kicked downstairs?
2598
Decidedly not; once received a kick on the top of a staircase, and fell
2599
downstairs of his own accord. Kicked on that occasion for cheating at
2600
dice? Something to that effect was said by the intoxicated liar who
2601
committed the assault, but it was not true. Swear it was not true?
2602
Positively. Ever live by cheating at play? Never. Ever live by play? Not
2603
more than other gentlemen do. Ever borrow money of the prisoner? Yes.
2604
Ever pay him? No. Was not this intimacy with the prisoner, in reality a
2605
very slight one, forced upon the prisoner in coaches, inns, and packets?
2606
No. Sure he saw the prisoner with these lists? Certain. Knew no more
2607
about the lists? No. Had not procured them himself, for instance? No.
2608
Expect to get anything by this evidence? No. Not in regular government
2609
pay and employment, to lay traps? Oh dear no. Or to do anything? Oh dear
2610
no. Swear that? Over and over again. No motives but motives of sheer
2611
patriotism? None whatever.
2612

2613
The virtuous servant, Roger Cly, swore his way through the case at a
2614
great rate. He had taken service with the prisoner, in good faith and
2615
simplicity, four years ago. He had asked the prisoner, aboard the Calais
2616
packet, if he wanted a handy fellow, and the prisoner had engaged him.
2617
He had not asked the prisoner to take the handy fellow as an act of
2618
charity--never thought of such a thing. He began to have suspicions of
2619
the prisoner, and to keep an eye upon him, soon afterwards. In arranging
2620
his clothes, while travelling, he had seen similar lists to these in the
2621
prisoner's pockets, over and over again. He had taken these lists from
2622
the drawer of the prisoner's desk. He had not put them there first. He
2623
had seen the prisoner show these identical lists to French gentlemen
2624
at Calais, and similar lists to French gentlemen, both at Calais and
2625
Boulogne. He loved his country, and couldn't bear it, and had given
2626
information. He had never been suspected of stealing a silver tea-pot;
2627
he had been maligned respecting a mustard-pot, but it turned out to be
2628
only a plated one. He had known the last witness seven or eight years;
2629
that was merely a coincidence. He didn't call it a particularly curious
2630
coincidence; most coincidences were curious. Neither did he call it a
2631
curious coincidence that true patriotism was _his_ only motive too. He
2632
was a true Briton, and hoped there were many like him.
2633

2634
The blue-flies buzzed again, and Mr. Attorney-General called Mr. Jarvis
2635
Lorry.
2636

2637
"Mr. Jarvis Lorry, are you a clerk in Tellson's bank?"
2638

2639
"I am."
2640

2641
"On a certain Friday night in November one thousand seven hundred and
2642
seventy-five, did business occasion you to travel between London and
2643
Dover by the mail?"
2644

2645
"It did."
2646

2647
"Were there any other passengers in the mail?"
2648

2649
"Two."
2650

2651
"Did they alight on the road in the course of the night?"
2652

2653
"They did."
2654

2655
"Mr. Lorry, look upon the prisoner. Was he one of those two passengers?"
2656

2657
"I cannot undertake to say that he was."
2658

2659
"Does he resemble either of these two passengers?"
2660

2661
"Both were so wrapped up, and the night was so dark, and we were all so
2662
reserved, that I cannot undertake to say even that."
2663

2664
"Mr. Lorry, look again upon the prisoner. Supposing him wrapped up as
2665
those two passengers were, is there anything in his bulk and stature to
2666
render it unlikely that he was one of them?"
2667

2668
"No."
2669

2670
"You will not swear, Mr. Lorry, that he was not one of them?"
2671

2672
"No."
2673

2674
"So at least you say he may have been one of them?"
2675

2676
"Yes. Except that I remember them both to have been--like
2677
myself--timorous of highwaymen, and the prisoner has not a timorous
2678
air."
2679

2680
"Did you ever see a counterfeit of timidity, Mr. Lorry?"
2681

2682
"I certainly have seen that."
2683

2684
"Mr. Lorry, look once more upon the prisoner. Have you seen him, to your
2685
certain knowledge, before?"
2686

2687
"I have."
2688

2689
"When?"
2690

2691
"I was returning from France a few days afterwards, and, at Calais, the
2692
prisoner came on board the packet-ship in which I returned, and made the
2693
voyage with me."
2694

2695
"At what hour did he come on board?"
2696

2697
"At a little after midnight."
2698

2699
"In the dead of the night. Was he the only passenger who came on board
2700
at that untimely hour?"
2701

2702
"He happened to be the only one."
2703

2704
"Never mind about 'happening,' Mr. Lorry. He was the only passenger who
2705
came on board in the dead of the night?"
2706

2707
"He was."
2708

2709
"Were you travelling alone, Mr. Lorry, or with any companion?"
2710

2711
"With two companions. A gentleman and lady. They are here."
2712

2713
"They are here. Had you any conversation with the prisoner?"
2714

2715
"Hardly any. The weather was stormy, and the passage long and rough, and
2716
I lay on a sofa, almost from shore to shore."
2717

2718
"Miss Manette!"
2719

2720
The young lady, to whom all eyes had been turned before, and were now
2721
turned again, stood up where she had sat. Her father rose with her, and
2722
kept her hand drawn through his arm.
2723

2724
"Miss Manette, look upon the prisoner."
2725

2726
To be confronted with such pity, and such earnest youth and beauty, was
2727
far more trying to the accused than to be confronted with all the crowd.
2728
Standing, as it were, apart with her on the edge of his grave, not all
2729
the staring curiosity that looked on, could, for the moment, nerve him
2730
to remain quite still. His hurried right hand parcelled out the herbs
2731
before him into imaginary beds of flowers in a garden; and his efforts
2732
to control and steady his breathing shook the lips from which the colour
2733
rushed to his heart. The buzz of the great flies was loud again.
2734

2735
"Miss Manette, have you seen the prisoner before?"
2736

2737
"Yes, sir."
2738

2739
"Where?"
2740

2741
"On board of the packet-ship just now referred to, sir, and on the same
2742
occasion."
2743

2744
"You are the young lady just now referred to?"
2745

2746
"O! most unhappily, I am!"
2747

2748
The plaintive tone of her compassion merged into the less musical voice
2749
of the Judge, as he said something fiercely: "Answer the questions put
2750
to you, and make no remark upon them."
2751

2752
"Miss Manette, had you any conversation with the prisoner on that
2753
passage across the Channel?"
2754

2755
"Yes, sir."
2756

2757
"Recall it."
2758

2759
In the midst of a profound stillness, she faintly began: "When the
2760
gentleman came on board--"
2761

2762
"Do you mean the prisoner?" inquired the Judge, knitting his brows.
2763

2764
"Yes, my Lord."
2765

2766
"Then say the prisoner."
2767

2768
"When the prisoner came on board, he noticed that my father," turning
2769
her eyes lovingly to him as he stood beside her, "was much fatigued
2770
and in a very weak state of health. My father was so reduced that I was
2771
afraid to take him out of the air, and I had made a bed for him on the
2772
deck near the cabin steps, and I sat on the deck at his side to take
2773
care of him. There were no other passengers that night, but we four.
2774
The prisoner was so good as to beg permission to advise me how I could
2775
shelter my father from the wind and weather, better than I had done. I
2776
had not known how to do it well, not understanding how the wind would
2777
set when we were out of the harbour. He did it for me. He expressed
2778
great gentleness and kindness for my father's state, and I am sure he
2779
felt it. That was the manner of our beginning to speak together."
2780

2781
"Let me interrupt you for a moment. Had he come on board alone?"
2782

2783
"No."
2784

2785
"How many were with him?"
2786

2787
"Two French gentlemen."
2788

2789
"Had they conferred together?"
2790

2791
"They had conferred together until the last moment, when it was
2792
necessary for the French gentlemen to be landed in their boat."
2793

2794
"Had any papers been handed about among them, similar to these lists?"
2795

2796
"Some papers had been handed about among them, but I don't know what
2797
papers."
2798

2799
"Like these in shape and size?"
2800

2801
"Possibly, but indeed I don't know, although they stood whispering very
2802
near to me: because they stood at the top of the cabin steps to have the
2803
light of the lamp that was hanging there; it was a dull lamp, and they
2804
spoke very low, and I did not hear what they said, and saw only that
2805
they looked at papers."
2806

2807
"Now, to the prisoner's conversation, Miss Manette."
2808

2809
"The prisoner was as open in his confidence with me--which arose out
2810
of my helpless situation--as he was kind, and good, and useful to my
2811
father. I hope," bursting into tears, "I may not repay him by doing him
2812
harm to-day."
2813

2814
Buzzing from the blue-flies.
2815

2816
"Miss Manette, if the prisoner does not perfectly understand that
2817
you give the evidence which it is your duty to give--which you must
2818
give--and which you cannot escape from giving--with great unwillingness,
2819
he is the only person present in that condition. Please to go on."
2820

2821
"He told me that he was travelling on business of a delicate and
2822
difficult nature, which might get people into trouble, and that he was
2823
therefore travelling under an assumed name. He said that this business
2824
had, within a few days, taken him to France, and might, at intervals,
2825
take him backwards and forwards between France and England for a long
2826
time to come."
2827

2828
"Did he say anything about America, Miss Manette? Be particular."
2829

2830
"He tried to explain to me how that quarrel had arisen, and he said
2831
that, so far as he could judge, it was a wrong and foolish one on
2832
England's part. He added, in a jesting way, that perhaps George
2833
Washington might gain almost as great a name in history as George the
2834
Third. But there was no harm in his way of saying this: it was said
2835
laughingly, and to beguile the time."
2836

2837
Any strongly marked expression of face on the part of a chief actor in
2838
a scene of great interest to whom many eyes are directed, will be
2839
unconsciously imitated by the spectators. Her forehead was painfully
2840
anxious and intent as she gave this evidence, and, in the pauses when
2841
she stopped for the Judge to write it down, watched its effect upon
2842
the counsel for and against. Among the lookers-on there was the same
2843
expression in all quarters of the court; insomuch, that a great majority
2844
of the foreheads there, might have been mirrors reflecting the witness,
2845
when the Judge looked up from his notes to glare at that tremendous
2846
heresy about George Washington.
2847

2848
Mr. Attorney-General now signified to my Lord, that he deemed it
2849
necessary, as a matter of precaution and form, to call the young lady's
2850
father, Doctor Manette. Who was called accordingly.
2851

2852
"Doctor Manette, look upon the prisoner. Have you ever seen him before?"
2853

2854
"Once. When he called at my lodgings in London. Some three years, or
2855
three years and a half ago."
2856

2857
"Can you identify him as your fellow-passenger on board the packet, or
2858
speak to his conversation with your daughter?"
2859

2860
"Sir, I can do neither."
2861

2862
"Is there any particular and special reason for your being unable to do
2863
either?"
2864

2865
He answered, in a low voice, "There is."
2866

2867
"Has it been your misfortune to undergo a long imprisonment, without
2868
trial, or even accusation, in your native country, Doctor Manette?"
2869

2870
He answered, in a tone that went to every heart, "A long imprisonment."
2871

2872
"Were you newly released on the occasion in question?"
2873

2874
"They tell me so."
2875

2876
"Have you no remembrance of the occasion?"
2877

2878
"None. My mind is a blank, from some time--I cannot even say what
2879
time--when I employed myself, in my captivity, in making shoes, to the
2880
time when I found myself living in London with my dear daughter
2881
here. She had become familiar to me, when a gracious God restored
2882
my faculties; but, I am quite unable even to say how she had become
2883
familiar. I have no remembrance of the process."
2884

2885
Mr. Attorney-General sat down, and the father and daughter sat down
2886
together.
2887

2888
A singular circumstance then arose in the case. The object in hand being
2889
to show that the prisoner went down, with some fellow-plotter untracked,
2890
in the Dover mail on that Friday night in November five years ago, and
2891
got out of the mail in the night, as a blind, at a place where he did
2892
not remain, but from which he travelled back some dozen miles or more,
2893
to a garrison and dockyard, and there collected information; a witness
2894
was called to identify him as having been at the precise time required,
2895
in the coffee-room of an hotel in that garrison-and-dockyard town,
2896
waiting for another person. The prisoner's counsel was cross-examining
2897
this witness with no result, except that he had never seen the prisoner
2898
on any other occasion, when the wigged gentleman who had all this time
2899
been looking at the ceiling of the court, wrote a word or two on a
2900
little piece of paper, screwed it up, and tossed it to him. Opening
2901
this piece of paper in the next pause, the counsel looked with great
2902
attention and curiosity at the prisoner.
2903

2904
"You say again you are quite sure that it was the prisoner?"
2905

2906
The witness was quite sure.
2907

2908
"Did you ever see anybody very like the prisoner?"
2909

2910
Not so like (the witness said) as that he could be mistaken.
2911

2912
"Look well upon that gentleman, my learned friend there," pointing
2913
to him who had tossed the paper over, "and then look well upon the
2914
prisoner. How say you? Are they very like each other?"
2915

2916
Allowing for my learned friend's appearance being careless and slovenly
2917
if not debauched, they were sufficiently like each other to surprise,
2918
not only the witness, but everybody present, when they were thus brought
2919
into comparison. My Lord being prayed to bid my learned friend lay aside
2920
his wig, and giving no very gracious consent, the likeness became
2921
much more remarkable. My Lord inquired of Mr. Stryver (the prisoner's
2922
counsel), whether they were next to try Mr. Carton (name of my learned
2923
friend) for treason? But, Mr. Stryver replied to my Lord, no; but he
2924
would ask the witness to tell him whether what happened once, might
2925
happen twice; whether he would have been so confident if he had seen
2926
this illustration of his rashness sooner, whether he would be so
2927
confident, having seen it; and more. The upshot of which, was, to smash
2928
this witness like a crockery vessel, and shiver his part of the case to
2929
useless lumber.
2930

2931
Mr. Cruncher had by this time taken quite a lunch of rust off his
2932
fingers in his following of the evidence. He had now to attend while Mr.
2933
Stryver fitted the prisoner's case on the jury, like a compact suit
2934
of clothes; showing them how the patriot, Barsad, was a hired spy and
2935
traitor, an unblushing trafficker in blood, and one of the greatest
2936
scoundrels upon earth since accursed Judas--which he certainly did look
2937
rather like. How the virtuous servant, Cly, was his friend and partner,
2938
and was worthy to be; how the watchful eyes of those forgers and false
2939
swearers had rested on the prisoner as a victim, because some family
2940
affairs in France, he being of French extraction, did require his making
2941
those passages across the Channel--though what those affairs were, a
2942
consideration for others who were near and dear to him, forbade him,
2943
even for his life, to disclose. How the evidence that had been warped
2944
and wrested from the young lady, whose anguish in giving it they
2945
had witnessed, came to nothing, involving the mere little innocent
2946
gallantries and politenesses likely to pass between any young gentleman
2947
and young lady so thrown together;--with the exception of that
2948
reference to George Washington, which was altogether too extravagant and
2949
impossible to be regarded in any other light than as a monstrous joke.
2950
How it would be a weakness in the government to break down in this
2951
attempt to practise for popularity on the lowest national antipathies
2952
and fears, and therefore Mr. Attorney-General had made the most of it;
2953
how, nevertheless, it rested upon nothing, save that vile and infamous
2954
character of evidence too often disfiguring such cases, and of which the
2955
State Trials of this country were full. But, there my Lord interposed
2956
(with as grave a face as if it had not been true), saying that he could
2957
not sit upon that Bench and suffer those allusions.
2958

2959
Mr. Stryver then called his few witnesses, and Mr. Cruncher had next to
2960
attend while Mr. Attorney-General turned the whole suit of clothes Mr.
2961
Stryver had fitted on the jury, inside out; showing how Barsad and
2962
Cly were even a hundred times better than he had thought them, and the
2963
prisoner a hundred times worse. Lastly, came my Lord himself, turning
2964
the suit of clothes, now inside out, now outside in, but on the whole
2965
decidedly trimming and shaping them into grave-clothes for the prisoner.
2966

2967
And now, the jury turned to consider, and the great flies swarmed again.
2968

2969
Mr. Carton, who had so long sat looking at the ceiling of the court,
2970
changed neither his place nor his attitude, even in this excitement.
2971
While his learned friend, Mr. Stryver, massing his papers before him,
2972
whispered with those who sat near, and from time to time glanced
2973
anxiously at the jury; while all the spectators moved more or less, and
2974
grouped themselves anew; while even my Lord himself arose from his seat,
2975
and slowly paced up and down his platform, not unattended by a suspicion
2976
in the minds of the audience that his state was feverish; this one man
2977
sat leaning back, with his torn gown half off him, his untidy wig put
2978
on just as it had happened to light on his head after its removal, his
2979
hands in his pockets, and his eyes on the ceiling as they had been all
2980
day. Something especially reckless in his demeanour, not only gave him
2981
a disreputable look, but so diminished the strong resemblance he
2982
undoubtedly bore to the prisoner (which his momentary earnestness,
2983
when they were compared together, had strengthened), that many of the
2984
lookers-on, taking note of him now, said to one another they would
2985
hardly have thought the two were so alike. Mr. Cruncher made the
2986
observation to his next neighbour, and added, "I'd hold half a guinea
2987
that _he_ don't get no law-work to do. Don't look like the sort of one
2988
to get any, do he?"
2989

2990
Yet, this Mr. Carton took in more of the details of the scene than he
2991
appeared to take in; for now, when Miss Manette's head dropped upon
2992
her father's breast, he was the first to see it, and to say audibly:
2993
"Officer! look to that young lady. Help the gentleman to take her out.
2994
Don't you see she will fall!"
2995

2996
There was much commiseration for her as she was removed, and much
2997
sympathy with her father. It had evidently been a great distress to
2998
him, to have the days of his imprisonment recalled. He had shown
2999
strong internal agitation when he was questioned, and that pondering or
3000
brooding look which made him old, had been upon him, like a heavy cloud,
3001
ever since. As he passed out, the jury, who had turned back and paused a
3002
moment, spoke, through their foreman.
3003

3004
They were not agreed, and wished to retire. My Lord (perhaps with George
3005
Washington on his mind) showed some surprise that they were not agreed,
3006
but signified his pleasure that they should retire under watch and ward,
3007
and retired himself. The trial had lasted all day, and the lamps in
3008
the court were now being lighted. It began to be rumoured that the
3009
jury would be out a long while. The spectators dropped off to get
3010
refreshment, and the prisoner withdrew to the back of the dock, and sat
3011
down.
3012

3013
Mr. Lorry, who had gone out when the young lady and her father went out,
3014
now reappeared, and beckoned to Jerry: who, in the slackened interest,
3015
could easily get near him.
3016

3017
"Jerry, if you wish to take something to eat, you can. But, keep in the
3018
way. You will be sure to hear when the jury come in. Don't be a moment
3019
behind them, for I want you to take the verdict back to the bank. You
3020
are the quickest messenger I know, and will get to Temple Bar long
3021
before I can."
3022

3023
Jerry had just enough forehead to knuckle, and he knuckled it in
3024
acknowledgment of this communication and a shilling. Mr. Carton came up
3025
at the moment, and touched Mr. Lorry on the arm.
3026

3027
"How is the young lady?"
3028

3029
"She is greatly distressed; but her father is comforting her, and she
3030
feels the better for being out of court."
3031

3032
"I'll tell the prisoner so. It won't do for a respectable bank gentleman
3033
like you, to be seen speaking to him publicly, you know."
3034

3035
Mr. Lorry reddened as if he were conscious of having debated the point
3036
in his mind, and Mr. Carton made his way to the outside of the bar.
3037
The way out of court lay in that direction, and Jerry followed him, all
3038
eyes, ears, and spikes.
3039

3040
"Mr. Darnay!"
3041

3042
The prisoner came forward directly.
3043

3044
"You will naturally be anxious to hear of the witness, Miss Manette. She
3045
will do very well. You have seen the worst of her agitation."
3046

3047
"I am deeply sorry to have been the cause of it. Could you tell her so
3048
for me, with my fervent acknowledgments?"
3049

3050
"Yes, I could. I will, if you ask it."
3051

3052
Mr. Carton's manner was so careless as to be almost insolent. He stood,
3053
half turned from the prisoner, lounging with his elbow against the bar.
3054

3055
"I do ask it. Accept my cordial thanks."
3056

3057
"What," said Carton, still only half turned towards him, "do you expect,
3058
Mr. Darnay?"
3059

3060
"The worst."
3061

3062
"It's the wisest thing to expect, and the likeliest. But I think their
3063
withdrawing is in your favour."
3064

3065
Loitering on the way out of court not being allowed, Jerry heard no
3066
more: but left them--so like each other in feature, so unlike each other
3067
in manner--standing side by side, both reflected in the glass above
3068
them.
3069

3070
An hour and a half limped heavily away in the thief-and-rascal crowded
3071
passages below, even though assisted off with mutton pies and ale.
3072
The hoarse messenger, uncomfortably seated on a form after taking that
3073
refection, had dropped into a doze, when a loud murmur and a rapid tide
3074
of people setting up the stairs that led to the court, carried him along
3075
with them.
3076

3077
"Jerry! Jerry!" Mr. Lorry was already calling at the door when he got
3078
there.
3079

3080
"Here, sir! It's a fight to get back again. Here I am, sir!"
3081

3082
Mr. Lorry handed him a paper through the throng. "Quick! Have you got
3083
it?"
3084

3085
"Yes, sir."
3086

3087
Hastily written on the paper was the word "ACQUITTED."
3088

3089
"If you had sent the message, 'Recalled to Life,' again," muttered
3090
Jerry, as he turned, "I should have known what you meant, this time."
3091

3092
He had no opportunity of saying, or so much as thinking, anything else,
3093
until he was clear of the Old Bailey; for, the crowd came pouring out
3094
with a vehemence that nearly took him off his legs, and a loud buzz
3095
swept into the street as if the baffled blue-flies were dispersing in
3096
search of other carrion.
3097

3098

3099

3100

3101
IV. Congratulatory
3102

3103

3104
From the dimly-lighted passages of the court, the last sediment of the
3105
human stew that had been boiling there all day, was straining off, when
3106
Doctor Manette, Lucie Manette, his daughter, Mr. Lorry, the solicitor
3107
for the defence, and its counsel, Mr. Stryver, stood gathered round Mr.
3108
Charles Darnay--just released--congratulating him on his escape from
3109
death.
3110

3111
It would have been difficult by a far brighter light, to recognise
3112
in Doctor Manette, intellectual of face and upright of bearing, the
3113
shoemaker of the garret in Paris. Yet, no one could have looked at him
3114
twice, without looking again: even though the opportunity of observation
3115
had not extended to the mournful cadence of his low grave voice, and
3116
to the abstraction that overclouded him fitfully, without any apparent
3117
reason. While one external cause, and that a reference to his long
3118
lingering agony, would always--as on the trial--evoke this condition
3119
from the depths of his soul, it was also in its nature to arise of
3120
itself, and to draw a gloom over him, as incomprehensible to those
3121
unacquainted with his story as if they had seen the shadow of the actual
3122
Bastille thrown upon him by a summer sun, when the substance was three
3123
hundred miles away.
3124

3125
Only his daughter had the power of charming this black brooding from
3126
his mind. She was the golden thread that united him to a Past beyond his
3127
misery, and to a Present beyond his misery: and the sound of her voice,
3128
the light of her face, the touch of her hand, had a strong beneficial
3129
influence with him almost always. Not absolutely always, for she could
3130
recall some occasions on which her power had failed; but they were few
3131
and slight, and she believed them over.
3132

3133
Mr. Darnay had kissed her hand fervently and gratefully, and had turned
3134
to Mr. Stryver, whom he warmly thanked. Mr. Stryver, a man of little
3135
more than thirty, but looking twenty years older than he was, stout,
3136
loud, red, bluff, and free from any drawback of delicacy, had a pushing
3137
way of shouldering himself (morally and physically) into companies and
3138
conversations, that argued well for his shouldering his way up in life.
3139

3140
He still had his wig and gown on, and he said, squaring himself at his
3141
late client to that degree that he squeezed the innocent Mr. Lorry clean
3142
out of the group: "I am glad to have brought you off with honour, Mr.
3143
Darnay. It was an infamous prosecution, grossly infamous; but not the
3144
less likely to succeed on that account."
3145

3146
"You have laid me under an obligation to you for life--in two senses,"
3147
 said his late client, taking his hand.
3148

3149
"I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and my best is as good as
3150
another man's, I believe."
3151

3152
It clearly being incumbent on some one to say, "Much better," Mr. Lorry
3153
said it; perhaps not quite disinterestedly, but with the interested
3154
object of squeezing himself back again.
3155

3156
"You think so?" said Mr. Stryver. "Well! you have been present all day,
3157
and you ought to know. You are a man of business, too."
3158

3159
"And as such," quoth Mr. Lorry, whom the counsel learned in the law had
3160
now shouldered back into the group, just as he had previously shouldered
3161
him out of it--"as such I will appeal to Doctor Manette, to break up
3162
this conference and order us all to our homes. Miss Lucie looks ill, Mr.
3163
Darnay has had a terrible day, we are worn out."
3164

3165
"Speak for yourself, Mr. Lorry," said Stryver; "I have a night's work to
3166
do yet. Speak for yourself."
3167

3168
"I speak for myself," answered Mr. Lorry, "and for Mr. Darnay, and for
3169
Miss Lucie, and--Miss Lucie, do you not think I may speak for us all?"
3170
 He asked her the question pointedly, and with a glance at her father.
3171

3172
His face had become frozen, as it were, in a very curious look at
3173
Darnay: an intent look, deepening into a frown of dislike and distrust,
3174
not even unmixed with fear. With this strange expression on him his
3175
thoughts had wandered away.
3176

3177
"My father," said Lucie, softly laying her hand on his.
3178

3179
He slowly shook the shadow off, and turned to her.
3180

3181
"Shall we go home, my father?"
3182

3183
With a long breath, he answered "Yes."
3184

3185
The friends of the acquitted prisoner had dispersed, under the
3186
impression--which he himself had originated--that he would not be
3187
released that night. The lights were nearly all extinguished in the
3188
passages, the iron gates were being closed with a jar and a rattle,
3189
and the dismal place was deserted until to-morrow morning's interest of
3190
gallows, pillory, whipping-post, and branding-iron, should repeople it.
3191
Walking between her father and Mr. Darnay, Lucie Manette passed into
3192
the open air. A hackney-coach was called, and the father and daughter
3193
departed in it.
3194

3195
Mr. Stryver had left them in the passages, to shoulder his way back
3196
to the robing-room. Another person, who had not joined the group, or
3197
interchanged a word with any one of them, but who had been leaning
3198
against the wall where its shadow was darkest, had silently strolled
3199
out after the rest, and had looked on until the coach drove away. He now
3200
stepped up to where Mr. Lorry and Mr. Darnay stood upon the pavement.
3201

3202
"So, Mr. Lorry! Men of business may speak to Mr. Darnay now?"
3203

3204
Nobody had made any acknowledgment of Mr. Carton's part in the day's
3205
proceedings; nobody had known of it. He was unrobed, and was none the
3206
better for it in appearance.
3207

3208
"If you knew what a conflict goes on in the business mind, when the
3209
business mind is divided between good-natured impulse and business
3210
appearances, you would be amused, Mr. Darnay."
3211

3212
Mr. Lorry reddened, and said, warmly, "You have mentioned that before,
3213
sir. We men of business, who serve a House, are not our own masters. We
3214
have to think of the House more than ourselves."
3215

3216
"_I_ know, _I_ know," rejoined Mr. Carton, carelessly. "Don't be
3217
nettled, Mr. Lorry. You are as good as another, I have no doubt: better,
3218
I dare say."
3219

3220
"And indeed, sir," pursued Mr. Lorry, not minding him, "I really don't
3221
know what you have to do with the matter. If you'll excuse me, as very
3222
much your elder, for saying so, I really don't know that it is your
3223
business."
3224

3225
"Business! Bless you, _I_ have no business," said Mr. Carton.
3226

3227
"It is a pity you have not, sir."
3228

3229
"I think so, too."
3230

3231
"If you had," pursued Mr. Lorry, "perhaps you would attend to it."
3232

3233
"Lord love you, no!--I shouldn't," said Mr. Carton.
3234

3235
"Well, sir!" cried Mr. Lorry, thoroughly heated by his indifference,
3236
"business is a very good thing, and a very respectable thing. And, sir,
3237
if business imposes its restraints and its silences and impediments, Mr.
3238
Darnay as a young gentleman of generosity knows how to make allowance
3239
for that circumstance. Mr. Darnay, good night, God bless you, sir!
3240
I hope you have been this day preserved for a prosperous and happy
3241
life.--Chair there!"
3242

3243
Perhaps a little angry with himself, as well as with the barrister, Mr.
3244
Lorry bustled into the chair, and was carried off to Tellson's. Carton,
3245
who smelt of port wine, and did not appear to be quite sober, laughed
3246
then, and turned to Darnay:
3247

3248
"This is a strange chance that throws you and me together. This must
3249
be a strange night to you, standing alone here with your counterpart on
3250
these street stones?"
3251

3252
"I hardly seem yet," returned Charles Darnay, "to belong to this world
3253
again."
3254

3255
"I don't wonder at it; it's not so long since you were pretty far
3256
advanced on your way to another. You speak faintly."
3257

3258
"I begin to think I _am_ faint."
3259

3260
"Then why the devil don't you dine? I dined, myself, while those
3261
numskulls were deliberating which world you should belong to--this, or
3262
some other. Let me show you the nearest tavern to dine well at."
3263

3264
Drawing his arm through his own, he took him down Ludgate-hill to
3265
Fleet-street, and so, up a covered way, into a tavern. Here, they were
3266
shown into a little room, where Charles Darnay was soon recruiting
3267
his strength with a good plain dinner and good wine: while Carton sat
3268
opposite to him at the same table, with his separate bottle of port
3269
before him, and his fully half-insolent manner upon him.
3270

3271
"Do you feel, yet, that you belong to this terrestrial scheme again, Mr.
3272
Darnay?"
3273

3274
"I am frightfully confused regarding time and place; but I am so far
3275
mended as to feel that."
3276

3277
"It must be an immense satisfaction!"
3278

3279
He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass again: which was a large
3280
one.
3281

3282
"As to me, the greatest desire I have, is to forget that I belong to it.
3283
It has no good in it for me--except wine like this--nor I for it. So we
3284
are not much alike in that particular. Indeed, I begin to think we are
3285
not much alike in any particular, you and I."
3286

3287
Confused by the emotion of the day, and feeling his being there with
3288
this Double of coarse deportment, to be like a dream, Charles Darnay was
3289
at a loss how to answer; finally, answered not at all.
3290

3291
"Now your dinner is done," Carton presently said, "why don't you call a
3292
health, Mr. Darnay; why don't you give your toast?"
3293

3294
"What health? What toast?"
3295

3296
"Why, it's on the tip of your tongue. It ought to be, it must be, I'll
3297
swear it's there."
3298

3299
"Miss Manette, then!"
3300

3301
"Miss Manette, then!"
3302

3303
Looking his companion full in the face while he drank the toast, Carton
3304
flung his glass over his shoulder against the wall, where it shivered to
3305
pieces; then, rang the bell, and ordered in another.
3306

3307
"That's a fair young lady to hand to a coach in the dark, Mr. Darnay!"
3308
 he said, filling his new goblet.
3309

3310
A slight frown and a laconic "Yes," were the answer.
3311

3312
"That's a fair young lady to be pitied by and wept for by! How does it
3313
feel? Is it worth being tried for one's life, to be the object of such
3314
sympathy and compassion, Mr. Darnay?"
3315

3316
Again Darnay answered not a word.
3317

3318
"She was mightily pleased to have your message, when I gave it her. Not
3319
that she showed she was pleased, but I suppose she was."
3320

3321
The allusion served as a timely reminder to Darnay that this
3322
disagreeable companion had, of his own free will, assisted him in the
3323
strait of the day. He turned the dialogue to that point, and thanked him
3324
for it.
3325

3326
"I neither want any thanks, nor merit any," was the careless rejoinder.
3327
"It was nothing to do, in the first place; and I don't know why I did
3328
it, in the second. Mr. Darnay, let me ask you a question."
3329

3330
"Willingly, and a small return for your good offices."
3331

3332
"Do you think I particularly like you?"
3333

3334
"Really, Mr. Carton," returned the other, oddly disconcerted, "I have
3335
not asked myself the question."
3336

3337
"But ask yourself the question now."
3338

3339
"You have acted as if you do; but I don't think you do."
3340

3341
"_I_ don't think I do," said Carton. "I begin to have a very good
3342
opinion of your understanding."
3343

3344
"Nevertheless," pursued Darnay, rising to ring the bell, "there is
3345
nothing in that, I hope, to prevent my calling the reckoning, and our
3346
parting without ill-blood on either side."
3347

3348
Carton rejoining, "Nothing in life!" Darnay rang. "Do you call the whole
3349
reckoning?" said Carton. On his answering in the affirmative, "Then
3350
bring me another pint of this same wine, drawer, and come and wake me at
3351
ten."
3352

3353
The bill being paid, Charles Darnay rose and wished him good night.
3354
Without returning the wish, Carton rose too, with something of a threat
3355
of defiance in his manner, and said, "A last word, Mr. Darnay: you think
3356
I am drunk?"
3357

3358
"I think you have been drinking, Mr. Carton."
3359

3360
"Think? You know I have been drinking."
3361

3362
"Since I must say so, I know it."
3363

3364
"Then you shall likewise know why. I am a disappointed drudge, sir. I
3365
care for no man on earth, and no man on earth cares for me."
3366

3367
"Much to be regretted. You might have used your talents better."
3368

3369
"May be so, Mr. Darnay; may be not. Don't let your sober face elate you,
3370
however; you don't know what it may come to. Good night!"
3371

3372
When he was left alone, this strange being took up a candle, went to a
3373
glass that hung against the wall, and surveyed himself minutely in it.
3374

3375
"Do you particularly like the man?" he muttered, at his own image; "why
3376
should you particularly like a man who resembles you? There is nothing
3377
in you to like; you know that. Ah, confound you! What a change you have
3378
made in yourself! A good reason for taking to a man, that he shows you
3379
what you have fallen away from, and what you might have been! Change
3380
places with him, and would you have been looked at by those blue eyes as
3381
he was, and commiserated by that agitated face as he was? Come on, and
3382
have it out in plain words! You hate the fellow."
3383

3384
He resorted to his pint of wine for consolation, drank it all in a few
3385
minutes, and fell asleep on his arms, with his hair straggling over the
3386
table, and a long winding-sheet in the candle dripping down upon him.
3387

3388

3389

3390

3391
V. The Jackal
3392

3393

3394
Those were drinking days, and most men drank hard. So very great is
3395
the improvement Time has brought about in such habits, that a moderate
3396
statement of the quantity of wine and punch which one man would swallow
3397
in the course of a night, without any detriment to his reputation as a
3398
perfect gentleman, would seem, in these days, a ridiculous exaggeration.
3399
The learned profession of the law was certainly not behind any other
3400
learned profession in its Bacchanalian propensities; neither was Mr.
3401
Stryver, already fast shouldering his way to a large and lucrative
3402
practice, behind his compeers in this particular, any more than in the
3403
drier parts of the legal race.
3404

3405
A favourite at the Old Bailey, and eke at the Sessions, Mr. Stryver had
3406
begun cautiously to hew away the lower staves of the ladder on which
3407
he mounted. Sessions and Old Bailey had now to summon their favourite,
3408
specially, to their longing arms; and shouldering itself towards the
3409
visage of the Lord Chief Justice in the Court of King's Bench, the
3410
florid countenance of Mr. Stryver might be daily seen, bursting out of
3411
the bed of wigs, like a great sunflower pushing its way at the sun from
3412
among a rank garden-full of flaring companions.
3413

3414
It had once been noted at the Bar, that while Mr. Stryver was a glib
3415
man, and an unscrupulous, and a ready, and a bold, he had not that
3416
faculty of extracting the essence from a heap of statements, which is
3417
among the most striking and necessary of the advocate's accomplishments.
3418
But, a remarkable improvement came upon him as to this. The more
3419
business he got, the greater his power seemed to grow of getting at its
3420
pith and marrow; and however late at night he sat carousing with Sydney
3421
Carton, he always had his points at his fingers' ends in the morning.
3422

3423
Sydney Carton, idlest and most unpromising of men, was Stryver's great
3424
ally. What the two drank together, between Hilary Term and Michaelmas,
3425
might have floated a king's ship. Stryver never had a case in hand,
3426
anywhere, but Carton was there, with his hands in his pockets, staring
3427
at the ceiling of the court; they went the same Circuit, and even there
3428
they prolonged their usual orgies late into the night, and Carton was
3429
rumoured to be seen at broad day, going home stealthily and unsteadily
3430
to his lodgings, like a dissipated cat. At last, it began to get about,
3431
among such as were interested in the matter, that although Sydney Carton
3432
would never be a lion, he was an amazingly good jackal, and that he
3433
rendered suit and service to Stryver in that humble capacity.
3434

3435
"Ten o'clock, sir," said the man at the tavern, whom he had charged to
3436
wake him--"ten o'clock, sir."
3437

3438
"_What's_ the matter?"
3439

3440
"Ten o'clock, sir."
3441

3442
"What do you mean? Ten o'clock at night?"
3443

3444
"Yes, sir. Your honour told me to call you."
3445

3446
"Oh! I remember. Very well, very well."
3447

3448
After a few dull efforts to get to sleep again, which the man
3449
dexterously combated by stirring the fire continuously for five minutes,
3450
he got up, tossed his hat on, and walked out. He turned into the Temple,
3451
and, having revived himself by twice pacing the pavements of King's
3452
Bench-walk and Paper-buildings, turned into the Stryver chambers.
3453

3454
The Stryver clerk, who never assisted at these conferences, had gone
3455
home, and the Stryver principal opened the door. He had his slippers on,
3456
and a loose bed-gown, and his throat was bare for his greater ease. He
3457
had that rather wild, strained, seared marking about the eyes, which
3458
may be observed in all free livers of his class, from the portrait of
3459
Jeffries downward, and which can be traced, under various disguises of
3460
Art, through the portraits of every Drinking Age.
3461

3462
"You are a little late, Memory," said Stryver.
3463

3464
"About the usual time; it may be a quarter of an hour later."
3465

3466
They went into a dingy room lined with books and littered with papers,
3467
where there was a blazing fire. A kettle steamed upon the hob, and in
3468
the midst of the wreck of papers a table shone, with plenty of wine upon
3469
it, and brandy, and rum, and sugar, and lemons.
3470

3471
"You have had your bottle, I perceive, Sydney."
3472

3473
"Two to-night, I think. I have been dining with the day's client; or
3474
seeing him dine--it's all one!"
3475

3476
"That was a rare point, Sydney, that you brought to bear upon the
3477
identification. How did you come by it? When did it strike you?"
3478

3479
"I thought he was rather a handsome fellow, and I thought I should have
3480
been much the same sort of fellow, if I had had any luck."
3481

3482
Mr. Stryver laughed till he shook his precocious paunch.
3483

3484
"You and your luck, Sydney! Get to work, get to work."
3485

3486
Sullenly enough, the jackal loosened his dress, went into an adjoining
3487
room, and came back with a large jug of cold water, a basin, and a towel
3488
or two. Steeping the towels in the water, and partially wringing them
3489
out, he folded them on his head in a manner hideous to behold, sat down
3490
at the table, and said, "Now I am ready!"
3491

3492
"Not much boiling down to be done to-night, Memory," said Mr. Stryver,
3493
gaily, as he looked among his papers.
3494

3495
"How much?"
3496

3497
"Only two sets of them."
3498

3499
"Give me the worst first."
3500

3501
"There they are, Sydney. Fire away!"
3502

3503
The lion then composed himself on his back on a sofa on one side of the
3504
drinking-table, while the jackal sat at his own paper-bestrewn table
3505
proper, on the other side of it, with the bottles and glasses ready to
3506
his hand. Both resorted to the drinking-table without stint, but each in
3507
a different way; the lion for the most part reclining with his hands in
3508
his waistband, looking at the fire, or occasionally flirting with some
3509
lighter document; the jackal, with knitted brows and intent face,
3510
so deep in his task, that his eyes did not even follow the hand he
3511
stretched out for his glass--which often groped about, for a minute or
3512
more, before it found the glass for his lips. Two or three times, the
3513
matter in hand became so knotty, that the jackal found it imperative on
3514
him to get up, and steep his towels anew. From these pilgrimages to the
3515
jug and basin, he returned with such eccentricities of damp headgear as
3516
no words can describe; which were made the more ludicrous by his anxious
3517
gravity.
3518

3519
At length the jackal had got together a compact repast for the lion, and
3520
proceeded to offer it to him. The lion took it with care and caution,
3521
made his selections from it, and his remarks upon it, and the jackal
3522
assisted both. When the repast was fully discussed, the lion put his
3523
hands in his waistband again, and lay down to meditate. The jackal then
3524
invigorated himself with a bumper for his throttle, and a fresh application
3525
to his head, and applied himself to the collection of a second meal;
3526
this was administered to the lion in the same manner, and was not
3527
disposed of until the clocks struck three in the morning.
3528

3529
"And now we have done, Sydney, fill a bumper of punch," said Mr.
3530
Stryver.
3531

3532
The jackal removed the towels from his head, which had been steaming
3533
again, shook himself, yawned, shivered, and complied.
3534

3535
"You were very sound, Sydney, in the matter of those crown witnesses
3536
to-day. Every question told."
3537

3538
"I always am sound; am I not?"
3539

3540
"I don't gainsay it. What has roughened your temper? Put some punch to
3541
it and smooth it again."
3542

3543
With a deprecatory grunt, the jackal again complied.
3544

3545
"The old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School," said Stryver, nodding
3546
his head over him as he reviewed him in the present and the past, "the
3547
old seesaw Sydney. Up one minute and down the next; now in spirits and
3548
now in despondency!"
3549

3550
"Ah!" returned the other, sighing: "yes! The same Sydney, with the same
3551
luck. Even then, I did exercises for other boys, and seldom did my own."
3552

3553
"And why not?"
3554

3555
"God knows. It was my way, I suppose."
3556

3557
He sat, with his hands in his pockets and his legs stretched out before
3558
him, looking at the fire.
3559

3560
"Carton," said his friend, squaring himself at him with a bullying air,
3561
as if the fire-grate had been the furnace in which sustained endeavour
3562
was forged, and the one delicate thing to be done for the old Sydney
3563
Carton of old Shrewsbury School was to shoulder him into it, "your way
3564
is, and always was, a lame way. You summon no energy and purpose. Look
3565
at me."
3566

3567
"Oh, botheration!" returned Sydney, with a lighter and more
3568
good-humoured laugh, "don't _you_ be moral!"
3569

3570
"How have I done what I have done?" said Stryver; "how do I do what I
3571
do?"
3572

3573
"Partly through paying me to help you, I suppose. But it's not worth
3574
your while to apostrophise me, or the air, about it; what you want to
3575
do, you do. You were always in the front rank, and I was always behind."
3576

3577
"I had to get into the front rank; I was not born there, was I?"
3578

3579
"I was not present at the ceremony; but my opinion is you were," said
3580
Carton. At this, he laughed again, and they both laughed.
3581

3582
"Before Shrewsbury, and at Shrewsbury, and ever since Shrewsbury,"
3583
 pursued Carton, "you have fallen into your rank, and I have fallen into
3584
mine. Even when we were fellow-students in the Student-Quarter of Paris,
3585
picking up French, and French law, and other French crumbs that we
3586
didn't get much good of, you were always somewhere, and I was always
3587
nowhere."
3588

3589
"And whose fault was that?"
3590

3591
"Upon my soul, I am not sure that it was not yours. You were always
3592
driving and riving and shouldering and passing, to that restless degree
3593
that I had no chance for my life but in rust and repose. It's a gloomy
3594
thing, however, to talk about one's own past, with the day breaking.
3595
Turn me in some other direction before I go."
3596

3597
"Well then! Pledge me to the pretty witness," said Stryver, holding up
3598
his glass. "Are you turned in a pleasant direction?"
3599

3600
Apparently not, for he became gloomy again.
3601

3602
"Pretty witness," he muttered, looking down into his glass. "I have had
3603
enough of witnesses to-day and to-night; who's your pretty witness?"
3604

3605
"The picturesque doctor's daughter, Miss Manette."
3606

3607
"_She_ pretty?"
3608

3609
"Is she not?"
3610

3611
"No."
3612

3613
"Why, man alive, she was the admiration of the whole Court!"
3614

3615
"Rot the admiration of the whole Court! Who made the Old Bailey a judge
3616
of beauty? She was a golden-haired doll!"
3617

3618
"Do you know, Sydney," said Mr. Stryver, looking at him with sharp eyes,
3619
and slowly drawing a hand across his florid face: "do you know, I rather
3620
thought, at the time, that you sympathised with the golden-haired doll,
3621
and were quick to see what happened to the golden-haired doll?"
3622

3623
"Quick to see what happened! If a girl, doll or no doll, swoons within a
3624
yard or two of a man's nose, he can see it without a perspective-glass.
3625
I pledge you, but I deny the beauty. And now I'll have no more drink;
3626
I'll get to bed."
3627

3628
When his host followed him out on the staircase with a candle, to light
3629
him down the stairs, the day was coldly looking in through its grimy
3630
windows. When he got out of the house, the air was cold and sad, the
3631
dull sky overcast, the river dark and dim, the whole scene like a
3632
lifeless desert. And wreaths of dust were spinning round and round
3633
before the morning blast, as if the desert-sand had risen far away, and
3634
the first spray of it in its advance had begun to overwhelm the city.
3635

3636
Waste forces within him, and a desert all around, this man stood still
3637
on his way across a silent terrace, and saw for a moment, lying in the
3638
wilderness before him, a mirage of honourable ambition, self-denial, and
3639
perseverance. In the fair city of this vision, there were airy galleries
3640
from which the loves and graces looked upon him, gardens in which the
3641
fruits of life hung ripening, waters of Hope that sparkled in his sight.
3642
A moment, and it was gone. Climbing to a high chamber in a well of
3643
houses, he threw himself down in his clothes on a neglected bed, and its
3644
pillow was wet with wasted tears.
3645

3646
Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of
3647
good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise,
3648
incapable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight
3649
on him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away.
3650

3651

3652

3653

3654
VI. Hundreds of People
3655

3656

3657
The quiet lodgings of Doctor Manette were in a quiet street-corner not
3658
far from Soho-square. On the afternoon of a certain fine Sunday when the
3659
waves of four months had rolled over the trial for treason, and carried
3660
it, as to the public interest and memory, far out to sea, Mr. Jarvis
3661
Lorry walked along the sunny streets from Clerkenwell where he lived,
3662
on his way to dine with the Doctor. After several relapses into
3663
business-absorption, Mr. Lorry had become the Doctor's friend, and the
3664
quiet street-corner was the sunny part of his life.
3665

3666
On this certain fine Sunday, Mr. Lorry walked towards Soho, early in
3667
the afternoon, for three reasons of habit. Firstly, because, on fine
3668
Sundays, he often walked out, before dinner, with the Doctor and Lucie;
3669
secondly, because, on unfavourable Sundays, he was accustomed to be with
3670
them as the family friend, talking, reading, looking out of window, and
3671
generally getting through the day; thirdly, because he happened to have
3672
his own little shrewd doubts to solve, and knew how the ways of the
3673
Doctor's household pointed to that time as a likely time for solving
3674
them.
3675

3676
A quainter corner than the corner where the Doctor lived, was not to be
3677
found in London. There was no way through it, and the front windows of
3678
the Doctor's lodgings commanded a pleasant little vista of street that
3679
had a congenial air of retirement on it. There were few buildings then,
3680
north of the Oxford-road, and forest-trees flourished, and wild flowers
3681
grew, and the hawthorn blossomed, in the now vanished fields. As a
3682
consequence, country airs circulated in Soho with vigorous freedom,
3683
instead of languishing into the parish like stray paupers without a
3684
settlement; and there was many a good south wall, not far off, on which
3685
the peaches ripened in their season.
3686

3687
The summer light struck into the corner brilliantly in the earlier part
3688
of the day; but, when the streets grew hot, the corner was in shadow,
3689
though not in shadow so remote but that you could see beyond it into a
3690
glare of brightness. It was a cool spot, staid but cheerful, a wonderful
3691
place for echoes, and a very harbour from the raging streets.
3692

3693
There ought to have been a tranquil bark in such an anchorage, and
3694
there was. The Doctor occupied two floors of a large stiff house, where
3695
several callings purported to be pursued by day, but whereof little was
3696
audible any day, and which was shunned by all of them at night. In
3697
a building at the back, attainable by a courtyard where a plane-tree
3698
rustled its green leaves, church-organs claimed to be made, and silver
3699
to be chased, and likewise gold to be beaten by some mysterious giant
3700
who had a golden arm starting out of the wall of the front hall--as if
3701
he had beaten himself precious, and menaced a similar conversion of all
3702
visitors. Very little of these trades, or of a lonely lodger rumoured
3703
to live up-stairs, or of a dim coach-trimming maker asserted to have
3704
a counting-house below, was ever heard or seen. Occasionally, a stray
3705
workman putting his coat on, traversed the hall, or a stranger peered
3706
about there, or a distant clink was heard across the courtyard, or a
3707
thump from the golden giant. These, however, were only the exceptions
3708
required to prove the rule that the sparrows in the plane-tree behind
3709
the house, and the echoes in the corner before it, had their own way
3710
from Sunday morning unto Saturday night.
3711

3712
Doctor Manette received such patients here as his old reputation, and
3713
its revival in the floating whispers of his story, brought him.
3714
His scientific knowledge, and his vigilance and skill in conducting
3715
ingenious experiments, brought him otherwise into moderate request, and
3716
he earned as much as he wanted.
3717

3718
These things were within Mr. Jarvis Lorry's knowledge, thoughts, and
3719
notice, when he rang the door-bell of the tranquil house in the corner,
3720
on the fine Sunday afternoon.
3721

3722
"Doctor Manette at home?"
3723

3724
Expected home.
3725

3726
"Miss Lucie at home?"
3727

3728
Expected home.
3729

3730
"Miss Pross at home?"
3731

3732
Possibly at home, but of a certainty impossible for handmaid to
3733
anticipate intentions of Miss Pross, as to admission or denial of the
3734
fact.
3735

3736
"As I am at home myself," said Mr. Lorry, "I'll go upstairs."
3737

3738
Although the Doctor's daughter had known nothing of the country of her
3739
birth, she appeared to have innately derived from it that ability to
3740
make much of little means, which is one of its most useful and most
3741
agreeable characteristics. Simple as the furniture was, it was set off
3742
by so many little adornments, of no value but for their taste and fancy,
3743
that its effect was delightful. The disposition of everything in the
3744
rooms, from the largest object to the least; the arrangement of colours,
3745
the elegant variety and contrast obtained by thrift in trifles, by
3746
delicate hands, clear eyes, and good sense; were at once so pleasant in
3747
themselves, and so expressive of their originator, that, as Mr. Lorry
3748
stood looking about him, the very chairs and tables seemed to ask him,
3749
with something of that peculiar expression which he knew so well by this
3750
time, whether he approved?
3751

3752
There were three rooms on a floor, and, the doors by which they
3753
communicated being put open that the air might pass freely through them
3754
all, Mr. Lorry, smilingly observant of that fanciful resemblance which
3755
he detected all around him, walked from one to another. The first was
3756
the best room, and in it were Lucie's birds, and flowers, and books,
3757
and desk, and work-table, and box of water-colours; the second was
3758
the Doctor's consulting-room, used also as the dining-room; the third,
3759
changingly speckled by the rustle of the plane-tree in the yard, was the
3760
Doctor's bedroom, and there, in a corner, stood the disused shoemaker's
3761
bench and tray of tools, much as it had stood on the fifth floor of the
3762
dismal house by the wine-shop, in the suburb of Saint Antoine in Paris.
3763

3764
"I wonder," said Mr. Lorry, pausing in his looking about, "that he keeps
3765
that reminder of his sufferings about him!"
3766

3767
"And why wonder at that?" was the abrupt inquiry that made him start.
3768

3769
It proceeded from Miss Pross, the wild red woman, strong of hand, whose
3770
acquaintance he had first made at the Royal George Hotel at Dover, and
3771
had since improved.
3772

3773
"I should have thought--" Mr. Lorry began.
3774

3775
"Pooh! You'd have thought!" said Miss Pross; and Mr. Lorry left off.
3776

3777
"How do you do?" inquired that lady then--sharply, and yet as if to
3778
express that she bore him no malice.
3779

3780
"I am pretty well, I thank you," answered Mr. Lorry, with meekness; "how
3781
are you?"
3782

3783
"Nothing to boast of," said Miss Pross.
3784

3785
"Indeed?"
3786

3787
"Ah! indeed!" said Miss Pross. "I am very much put out about my
3788
Ladybird."
3789

3790
"Indeed?"
3791

3792
"For gracious sake say something else besides 'indeed,' or you'll
3793
fidget me to death," said Miss Pross: whose character (dissociated from
3794
stature) was shortness.
3795

3796
"Really, then?" said Mr. Lorry, as an amendment.
3797

3798
"Really, is bad enough," returned Miss Pross, "but better. Yes, I am
3799
very much put out."
3800

3801
"May I ask the cause?"
3802

3803
"I don't want dozens of people who are not at all worthy of Ladybird, to
3804
come here looking after her," said Miss Pross.
3805

3806
"_Do_ dozens come for that purpose?"
3807

3808
"Hundreds," said Miss Pross.
3809

3810
It was characteristic of this lady (as of some other people before her
3811
time and since) that whenever her original proposition was questioned,
3812
she exaggerated it.
3813

3814
"Dear me!" said Mr. Lorry, as the safest remark he could think of.
3815

3816
"I have lived with the darling--or the darling has lived with me, and
3817
paid me for it; which she certainly should never have done, you may take
3818
your affidavit, if I could have afforded to keep either myself or her
3819
for nothing--since she was ten years old. And it's really very hard,"
3820
 said Miss Pross.
3821

3822
Not seeing with precision what was very hard, Mr. Lorry shook his head;
3823
using that important part of himself as a sort of fairy cloak that would
3824
fit anything.
3825

3826
"All sorts of people who are not in the least degree worthy of the pet,
3827
are always turning up," said Miss Pross. "When you began it--"
3828

3829
"_I_ began it, Miss Pross?"
3830

3831
"Didn't you? Who brought her father to life?"
3832

3833
"Oh! If _that_ was beginning it--" said Mr. Lorry.
3834

3835
"It wasn't ending it, I suppose? I say, when you began it, it was hard
3836
enough; not that I have any fault to find with Doctor Manette, except
3837
that he is not worthy of such a daughter, which is no imputation on
3838
him, for it was not to be expected that anybody should be, under any
3839
circumstances. But it really is doubly and trebly hard to have crowds
3840
and multitudes of people turning up after him (I could have forgiven
3841
him), to take Ladybird's affections away from me."
3842

3843
Mr. Lorry knew Miss Pross to be very jealous, but he also knew her by
3844
this time to be, beneath the service of her eccentricity, one of those
3845
unselfish creatures--found only among women--who will, for pure love and
3846
admiration, bind themselves willing slaves, to youth when they have lost
3847
it, to beauty that they never had, to accomplishments that they were
3848
never fortunate enough to gain, to bright hopes that never shone upon
3849
their own sombre lives. He knew enough of the world to know that there
3850
is nothing in it better than the faithful service of the heart; so
3851
rendered and so free from any mercenary taint, he had such an exalted
3852
respect for it, that in the retributive arrangements made by his own
3853
mind--we all make such arrangements, more or less--he stationed Miss
3854
Pross much nearer to the lower Angels than many ladies immeasurably
3855
better got up both by Nature and Art, who had balances at Tellson's.
3856

3857
"There never was, nor will be, but one man worthy of Ladybird," said
3858
Miss Pross; "and that was my brother Solomon, if he hadn't made a
3859
mistake in life."
3860

3861
Here again: Mr. Lorry's inquiries into Miss Pross's personal history had
3862
established the fact that her brother Solomon was a heartless scoundrel
3863
who had stripped her of everything she possessed, as a stake to
3864
speculate with, and had abandoned her in her poverty for evermore, with
3865
no touch of compunction. Miss Pross's fidelity of belief in Solomon
3866
(deducting a mere trifle for this slight mistake) was quite a serious
3867
matter with Mr. Lorry, and had its weight in his good opinion of her.
3868

3869
"As we happen to be alone for the moment, and are both people of
3870
business," he said, when they had got back to the drawing-room and had
3871
sat down there in friendly relations, "let me ask you--does the Doctor,
3872
in talking with Lucie, never refer to the shoemaking time, yet?"
3873

3874
"Never."
3875

3876
"And yet keeps that bench and those tools beside him?"
3877

3878
"Ah!" returned Miss Pross, shaking her head. "But I don't say he don't
3879
refer to it within himself."
3880

3881
"Do you believe that he thinks of it much?"
3882

3883
"I do," said Miss Pross.
3884

3885
"Do you imagine--" Mr. Lorry had begun, when Miss Pross took him up
3886
short with:
3887

3888
"Never imagine anything. Have no imagination at all."
3889

3890
"I stand corrected; do you suppose--you go so far as to suppose,
3891
sometimes?"
3892

3893
"Now and then," said Miss Pross.
3894

3895
"Do you suppose," Mr. Lorry went on, with a laughing twinkle in his
3896
bright eye, as it looked kindly at her, "that Doctor Manette has any
3897
theory of his own, preserved through all those years, relative to
3898
the cause of his being so oppressed; perhaps, even to the name of his
3899
oppressor?"
3900

3901
"I don't suppose anything about it but what Ladybird tells me."
3902

3903
"And that is--?"
3904

3905
"That she thinks he has."
3906

3907
"Now don't be angry at my asking all these questions; because I am a
3908
mere dull man of business, and you are a woman of business."
3909

3910
"Dull?" Miss Pross inquired, with placidity.
3911

3912
Rather wishing his modest adjective away, Mr. Lorry replied, "No, no,
3913
no. Surely not. To return to business:--Is it not remarkable that Doctor
3914
Manette, unquestionably innocent of any crime as we are all well assured
3915
he is, should never touch upon that question? I will not say with me,
3916
though he had business relations with me many years ago, and we are now
3917
intimate; I will say with the fair daughter to whom he is so devotedly
3918
attached, and who is so devotedly attached to him? Believe me, Miss
3919
Pross, I don't approach the topic with you, out of curiosity, but out of
3920
zealous interest."
3921

3922
"Well! To the best of my understanding, and bad's the best, you'll tell
3923
me," said Miss Pross, softened by the tone of the apology, "he is afraid
3924
of the whole subject."
3925

3926
"Afraid?"
3927

3928
"It's plain enough, I should think, why he may be. It's a dreadful
3929
remembrance. Besides that, his loss of himself grew out of it. Not
3930
knowing how he lost himself, or how he recovered himself, he may never
3931
feel certain of not losing himself again. That alone wouldn't make the
3932
subject pleasant, I should think."
3933

3934
It was a profounder remark than Mr. Lorry had looked for. "True," said
3935
he, "and fearful to reflect upon. Yet, a doubt lurks in my mind, Miss
3936
Pross, whether it is good for Doctor Manette to have that suppression
3937
always shut up within him. Indeed, it is this doubt and the uneasiness
3938
it sometimes causes me that has led me to our present confidence."
3939

3940
"Can't be helped," said Miss Pross, shaking her head. "Touch that
3941
string, and he instantly changes for the worse. Better leave it alone.
3942
In short, must leave it alone, like or no like. Sometimes, he gets up in
3943
the dead of the night, and will be heard, by us overhead there, walking
3944
up and down, walking up and down, in his room. Ladybird has learnt to
3945
know then that his mind is walking up and down, walking up and down, in
3946
his old prison. She hurries to him, and they go on together, walking up
3947
and down, walking up and down, until he is composed. But he never says
3948
a word of the true reason of his restlessness, to her, and she finds it
3949
best not to hint at it to him. In silence they go walking up and down
3950
together, walking up and down together, till her love and company have
3951
brought him to himself."
3952

3953
Notwithstanding Miss Pross's denial of her own imagination, there was a
3954
perception of the pain of being monotonously haunted by one sad idea,
3955
in her repetition of the phrase, walking up and down, which testified to
3956
her possessing such a thing.
3957

3958
The corner has been mentioned as a wonderful corner for echoes; it
3959
had begun to echo so resoundingly to the tread of coming feet, that it
3960
seemed as though the very mention of that weary pacing to and fro had
3961
set it going.
3962

3963
"Here they are!" said Miss Pross, rising to break up the conference;
3964
"and now we shall have hundreds of people pretty soon!"
3965

3966
It was such a curious corner in its acoustical properties, such a
3967
peculiar Ear of a place, that as Mr. Lorry stood at the open window,
3968
looking for the father and daughter whose steps he heard, he fancied
3969
they would never approach. Not only would the echoes die away, as though
3970
the steps had gone; but, echoes of other steps that never came would be
3971
heard in their stead, and would die away for good when they seemed close
3972
at hand. However, father and daughter did at last appear, and Miss Pross
3973
was ready at the street door to receive them.
3974

3975
Miss Pross was a pleasant sight, albeit wild, and red, and grim, taking
3976
off her darling's bonnet when she came up-stairs, and touching it up
3977
with the ends of her handkerchief, and blowing the dust off it, and
3978
folding her mantle ready for laying by, and smoothing her rich hair with
3979
as much pride as she could possibly have taken in her own hair if she
3980
had been the vainest and handsomest of women. Her darling was a pleasant
3981
sight too, embracing her and thanking her, and protesting against
3982
her taking so much trouble for her--which last she only dared to do
3983
playfully, or Miss Pross, sorely hurt, would have retired to her own
3984
chamber and cried. The Doctor was a pleasant sight too, looking on at
3985
them, and telling Miss Pross how she spoilt Lucie, in accents and with
3986
eyes that had as much spoiling in them as Miss Pross had, and would
3987
have had more if it were possible. Mr. Lorry was a pleasant sight too,
3988
beaming at all this in his little wig, and thanking his bachelor
3989
stars for having lighted him in his declining years to a Home. But, no
3990
Hundreds of people came to see the sights, and Mr. Lorry looked in vain
3991
for the fulfilment of Miss Pross's prediction.
3992

3993
Dinner-time, and still no Hundreds of people. In the arrangements of
3994
the little household, Miss Pross took charge of the lower regions, and
3995
always acquitted herself marvellously. Her dinners, of a very modest
3996
quality, were so well cooked and so well served, and so neat in their
3997
contrivances, half English and half French, that nothing could be
3998
better. Miss Pross's friendship being of the thoroughly practical
3999
kind, she had ravaged Soho and the adjacent provinces, in search of
4000
impoverished French, who, tempted by shillings and half-crowns, would
4001
impart culinary mysteries to her. From these decayed sons and daughters
4002
of Gaul, she had acquired such wonderful arts, that the woman and girl
4003
who formed the staff of domestics regarded her as quite a Sorceress,
4004
or Cinderella's Godmother: who would send out for a fowl, a rabbit,
4005
a vegetable or two from the garden, and change them into anything she
4006
pleased.
4007

4008
On Sundays, Miss Pross dined at the Doctor's table, but on other days
4009
persisted in taking her meals at unknown periods, either in the lower
4010
regions, or in her own room on the second floor--a blue chamber, to
4011
which no one but her Ladybird ever gained admittance. On this occasion,
4012
Miss Pross, responding to Ladybird's pleasant face and pleasant efforts
4013
to please her, unbent exceedingly; so the dinner was very pleasant, too.
4014

4015
It was an oppressive day, and, after dinner, Lucie proposed that the
4016
wine should be carried out under the plane-tree, and they should sit
4017
there in the air. As everything turned upon her, and revolved about her,
4018
they went out under the plane-tree, and she carried the wine down for
4019
the special benefit of Mr. Lorry. She had installed herself, some
4020
time before, as Mr. Lorry's cup-bearer; and while they sat under the
4021
plane-tree, talking, she kept his glass replenished. Mysterious backs
4022
and ends of houses peeped at them as they talked, and the plane-tree
4023
whispered to them in its own way above their heads.
4024

4025
Still, the Hundreds of people did not present themselves. Mr. Darnay
4026
presented himself while they were sitting under the plane-tree, but he
4027
was only One.
4028

4029
Doctor Manette received him kindly, and so did Lucie. But, Miss Pross
4030
suddenly became afflicted with a twitching in the head and body, and
4031
retired into the house. She was not unfrequently the victim of this
4032
disorder, and she called it, in familiar conversation, "a fit of the
4033
jerks."
4034

4035
The Doctor was in his best condition, and looked specially young. The
4036
resemblance between him and Lucie was very strong at such times, and as
4037
they sat side by side, she leaning on his shoulder, and he resting
4038
his arm on the back of her chair, it was very agreeable to trace the
4039
likeness.
4040

4041
He had been talking all day, on many subjects, and with unusual
4042
vivacity. "Pray, Doctor Manette," said Mr. Darnay, as they sat under the
4043
plane-tree--and he said it in the natural pursuit of the topic in hand,
4044
which happened to be the old buildings of London--"have you seen much of
4045
the Tower?"
4046

4047
"Lucie and I have been there; but only casually. We have seen enough of
4048
it, to know that it teems with interest; little more."
4049

4050
"_I_ have been there, as you remember," said Darnay, with a smile,
4051
though reddening a little angrily, "in another character, and not in a
4052
character that gives facilities for seeing much of it. They told me a
4053
curious thing when I was there."
4054

4055
"What was that?" Lucie asked.
4056

4057
"In making some alterations, the workmen came upon an old dungeon, which
4058
had been, for many years, built up and forgotten. Every stone of
4059
its inner wall was covered by inscriptions which had been carved by
4060
prisoners--dates, names, complaints, and prayers. Upon a corner stone
4061
in an angle of the wall, one prisoner, who seemed to have gone to
4062
execution, had cut as his last work, three letters. They were done with
4063
some very poor instrument, and hurriedly, with an unsteady hand.
4064
At first, they were read as D. I. C.; but, on being more carefully
4065
examined, the last letter was found to be G. There was no record or
4066
legend of any prisoner with those initials, and many fruitless guesses
4067
were made what the name could have been. At length, it was suggested
4068
that the letters were not initials, but the complete word, DIG. The
4069
floor was examined very carefully under the inscription, and, in the
4070
earth beneath a stone, or tile, or some fragment of paving, were found
4071
the ashes of a paper, mingled with the ashes of a small leathern case
4072
or bag. What the unknown prisoner had written will never be read, but he
4073
had written something, and hidden it away to keep it from the gaoler."
4074

4075
"My father," exclaimed Lucie, "you are ill!"
4076

4077
He had suddenly started up, with his hand to his head. His manner and
4078
his look quite terrified them all.
4079

4080
"No, my dear, not ill. There are large drops of rain falling, and they
4081
made me start. We had better go in."
4082

4083
He recovered himself almost instantly. Rain was really falling in large
4084
drops, and he showed the back of his hand with rain-drops on it. But, he
4085
said not a single word in reference to the discovery that had been told
4086
of, and, as they went into the house, the business eye of Mr. Lorry
4087
either detected, or fancied it detected, on his face, as it turned
4088
towards Charles Darnay, the same singular look that had been upon it
4089
when it turned towards him in the passages of the Court House.
4090

4091
He recovered himself so quickly, however, that Mr. Lorry had doubts of
4092
his business eye. The arm of the golden giant in the hall was not more
4093
steady than he was, when he stopped under it to remark to them that he
4094
was not yet proof against slight surprises (if he ever would be), and
4095
that the rain had startled him.
4096

4097
Tea-time, and Miss Pross making tea, with another fit of the jerks upon
4098
her, and yet no Hundreds of people. Mr. Carton had lounged in, but he
4099
made only Two.
4100

4101
The night was so very sultry, that although they sat with doors and
4102
windows open, they were overpowered by heat. When the tea-table was
4103
done with, they all moved to one of the windows, and looked out into the
4104
heavy twilight. Lucie sat by her father; Darnay sat beside her; Carton
4105
leaned against a window. The curtains were long and white, and some of
4106
the thunder-gusts that whirled into the corner, caught them up to the
4107
ceiling, and waved them like spectral wings.
4108

4109
"The rain-drops are still falling, large, heavy, and few," said Doctor
4110
Manette. "It comes slowly."
4111

4112
"It comes surely," said Carton.
4113

4114
They spoke low, as people watching and waiting mostly do; as people in a
4115
dark room, watching and waiting for Lightning, always do.
4116

4117
There was a great hurry in the streets of people speeding away to
4118
get shelter before the storm broke; the wonderful corner for echoes
4119
resounded with the echoes of footsteps coming and going, yet not a
4120
footstep was there.
4121

4122
"A multitude of people, and yet a solitude!" said Darnay, when they had
4123
listened for a while.
4124

4125
"Is it not impressive, Mr. Darnay?" asked Lucie. "Sometimes, I have
4126
sat here of an evening, until I have fancied--but even the shade of
4127
a foolish fancy makes me shudder to-night, when all is so black and
4128
solemn--"
4129

4130
"Let us shudder too. We may know what it is."
4131

4132
"It will seem nothing to you. Such whims are only impressive as we
4133
originate them, I think; they are not to be communicated. I have
4134
sometimes sat alone here of an evening, listening, until I have made
4135
the echoes out to be the echoes of all the footsteps that are coming
4136
by-and-bye into our lives."
4137

4138
"There is a great crowd coming one day into our lives, if that be so,"
4139
 Sydney Carton struck in, in his moody way.
4140

4141
The footsteps were incessant, and the hurry of them became more and more
4142
rapid. The corner echoed and re-echoed with the tread of feet; some,
4143
as it seemed, under the windows; some, as it seemed, in the room; some
4144
coming, some going, some breaking off, some stopping altogether; all in
4145
the distant streets, and not one within sight.
4146

4147
"Are all these footsteps destined to come to all of us, Miss Manette, or
4148
are we to divide them among us?"
4149

4150
"I don't know, Mr. Darnay; I told you it was a foolish fancy, but you
4151
asked for it. When I have yielded myself to it, I have been alone, and
4152
then I have imagined them the footsteps of the people who are to come
4153
into my life, and my father's."
4154

4155
"I take them into mine!" said Carton. "_I_ ask no questions and make no
4156
stipulations. There is a great crowd bearing down upon us, Miss Manette,
4157
and I see them--by the Lightning." He added the last words, after there
4158
had been a vivid flash which had shown him lounging in the window.
4159

4160
"And I hear them!" he added again, after a peal of thunder. "Here they
4161
come, fast, fierce, and furious!"
4162

4163
It was the rush and roar of rain that he typified, and it stopped him,
4164
for no voice could be heard in it. A memorable storm of thunder and
4165
lightning broke with that sweep of water, and there was not a moment's
4166
interval in crash, and fire, and rain, until after the moon rose at
4167
midnight.
4168

4169
The great bell of Saint Paul's was striking one in the cleared air, when
4170
Mr. Lorry, escorted by Jerry, high-booted and bearing a lantern, set
4171
forth on his return-passage to Clerkenwell. There were solitary patches
4172
of road on the way between Soho and Clerkenwell, and Mr. Lorry, mindful
4173
of foot-pads, always retained Jerry for this service: though it was
4174
usually performed a good two hours earlier.
4175

4176
"What a night it has been! Almost a night, Jerry," said Mr. Lorry, "to
4177
bring the dead out of their graves."
4178

4179
"I never see the night myself, master--nor yet I don't expect to--what
4180
would do that," answered Jerry.
4181

4182
"Good night, Mr. Carton," said the man of business. "Good night, Mr.
4183
Darnay. Shall we ever see such a night again, together!"
4184

4185
Perhaps. Perhaps, see the great crowd of people with its rush and roar,
4186
bearing down upon them, too.
4187

4188

4189

4190

4191
VII. Monseigneur in Town
4192

4193

4194
Monseigneur, one of the great lords in power at the Court, held his
4195
fortnightly reception in his grand hotel in Paris. Monseigneur was in
4196
his inner room, his sanctuary of sanctuaries, the Holiest of Holiests to
4197
the crowd of worshippers in the suite of rooms without. Monseigneur
4198
was about to take his chocolate. Monseigneur could swallow a great many
4199
things with ease, and was by some few sullen minds supposed to be rather
4200
rapidly swallowing France; but, his morning's chocolate could not so
4201
much as get into the throat of Monseigneur, without the aid of four
4202
strong men besides the Cook.
4203

4204
Yes. It took four men, all four ablaze with gorgeous decoration, and the
4205
Chief of them unable to exist with fewer than two gold watches in his
4206
pocket, emulative of the noble and chaste fashion set by Monseigneur, to
4207
conduct the happy chocolate to Monseigneur's lips. One lacquey carried
4208
the chocolate-pot into the sacred presence; a second, milled and frothed
4209
the chocolate with the little instrument he bore for that function;
4210
a third, presented the favoured napkin; a fourth (he of the two gold
4211
watches), poured the chocolate out. It was impossible for Monseigneur to
4212
dispense with one of these attendants on the chocolate and hold his high
4213
place under the admiring Heavens. Deep would have been the blot upon
4214
his escutcheon if his chocolate had been ignobly waited on by only three
4215
men; he must have died of two.
4216

4217
Monseigneur had been out at a little supper last night, where the Comedy
4218
and the Grand Opera were charmingly represented. Monseigneur was out at
4219
a little supper most nights, with fascinating company. So polite and so
4220
impressible was Monseigneur, that the Comedy and the Grand Opera had far
4221
more influence with him in the tiresome articles of state affairs and
4222
state secrets, than the needs of all France. A happy circumstance
4223
for France, as the like always is for all countries similarly
4224
favoured!--always was for England (by way of example), in the regretted
4225
days of the merry Stuart who sold it.
4226

4227
Monseigneur had one truly noble idea of general public business, which
4228
was, to let everything go on in its own way; of particular public
4229
business, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea that it must all go
4230
his way--tend to his own power and pocket. Of his pleasures, general and
4231
particular, Monseigneur had the other truly noble idea, that the world
4232
was made for them. The text of his order (altered from the original
4233
by only a pronoun, which is not much) ran: "The earth and the fulness
4234
thereof are mine, saith Monseigneur."
4235

4236
Yet, Monseigneur had slowly found that vulgar embarrassments crept into
4237
his affairs, both private and public; and he had, as to both classes of
4238
affairs, allied himself perforce with a Farmer-General. As to finances
4239
public, because Monseigneur could not make anything at all of them, and
4240
must consequently let them out to somebody who could; as to finances
4241
private, because Farmer-Generals were rich, and Monseigneur, after
4242
generations of great luxury and expense, was growing poor. Hence
4243
Monseigneur had taken his sister from a convent, while there was yet
4244
time to ward off the impending veil, the cheapest garment she could
4245
wear, and had bestowed her as a prize upon a very rich Farmer-General,
4246
poor in family. Which Farmer-General, carrying an appropriate cane with
4247
a golden apple on the top of it, was now among the company in the outer
4248
rooms, much prostrated before by mankind--always excepting superior
4249
mankind of the blood of Monseigneur, who, his own wife included, looked
4250
down upon him with the loftiest contempt.
4251

4252
A sumptuous man was the Farmer-General. Thirty horses stood in his
4253
stables, twenty-four male domestics sat in his halls, six body-women
4254
waited on his wife. As one who pretended to do nothing but plunder and
4255
forage where he could, the Farmer-General--howsoever his matrimonial
4256
relations conduced to social morality--was at least the greatest reality
4257
among the personages who attended at the hotel of Monseigneur that day.
4258

4259
For, the rooms, though a beautiful scene to look at, and adorned with
4260
every device of decoration that the taste and skill of the time could
4261
achieve, were, in truth, not a sound business; considered with any
4262
reference to the scarecrows in the rags and nightcaps elsewhere (and not
4263
so far off, either, but that the watching towers of Notre Dame, almost
4264
equidistant from the two extremes, could see them both), they would
4265
have been an exceedingly uncomfortable business--if that could have
4266
been anybody's business, at the house of Monseigneur. Military officers
4267
destitute of military knowledge; naval officers with no idea of a ship;
4268
civil officers without a notion of affairs; brazen ecclesiastics, of the
4269
worst world worldly, with sensual eyes, loose tongues, and looser lives;
4270
all totally unfit for their several callings, all lying horribly in
4271
pretending to belong to them, but all nearly or remotely of the order of
4272
Monseigneur, and therefore foisted on all public employments from which
4273
anything was to be got; these were to be told off by the score and the
4274
score. People not immediately connected with Monseigneur or the State,
4275
yet equally unconnected with anything that was real, or with lives
4276
passed in travelling by any straight road to any true earthly end, were
4277
no less abundant. Doctors who made great fortunes out of dainty remedies
4278
for imaginary disorders that never existed, smiled upon their courtly
4279
patients in the ante-chambers of Monseigneur. Projectors who had
4280
discovered every kind of remedy for the little evils with which the
4281
State was touched, except the remedy of setting to work in earnest to
4282
root out a single sin, poured their distracting babble into any ears
4283
they could lay hold of, at the reception of Monseigneur. Unbelieving
4284
Philosophers who were remodelling the world with words, and making
4285
card-towers of Babel to scale the skies with, talked with Unbelieving
4286
Chemists who had an eye on the transmutation of metals, at this
4287
wonderful gathering accumulated by Monseigneur. Exquisite gentlemen of
4288
the finest breeding, which was at that remarkable time--and has been
4289
since--to be known by its fruits of indifference to every natural
4290
subject of human interest, were in the most exemplary state of
4291
exhaustion, at the hotel of Monseigneur. Such homes had these various
4292
notabilities left behind them in the fine world of Paris, that the spies
4293
among the assembled devotees of Monseigneur--forming a goodly half
4294
of the polite company--would have found it hard to discover among
4295
the angels of that sphere one solitary wife, who, in her manners and
4296
appearance, owned to being a Mother. Indeed, except for the mere act of
4297
bringing a troublesome creature into this world--which does not go far
4298
towards the realisation of the name of mother--there was no such thing
4299
known to the fashion. Peasant women kept the unfashionable babies close,
4300
and brought them up, and charming grandmammas of sixty dressed and
4301
supped as at twenty.
4302

4303
The leprosy of unreality disfigured every human creature in attendance
4304
upon Monseigneur. In the outermost room were half a dozen exceptional
4305
people who had had, for a few years, some vague misgiving in them that
4306
things in general were going rather wrong. As a promising way of setting
4307
them right, half of the half-dozen had become members of a fantastic
4308
sect of Convulsionists, and were even then considering within themselves
4309
whether they should foam, rage, roar, and turn cataleptic on the
4310
spot--thereby setting up a highly intelligible finger-post to the
4311
Future, for Monseigneur's guidance. Besides these Dervishes, were other
4312
three who had rushed into another sect, which mended matters with a
4313
jargon about "the Centre of Truth:" holding that Man had got out of the
4314
Centre of Truth--which did not need much demonstration--but had not got
4315
out of the Circumference, and that he was to be kept from flying out of
4316
the Circumference, and was even to be shoved back into the Centre,
4317
by fasting and seeing of spirits. Among these, accordingly, much
4318
discoursing with spirits went on--and it did a world of good which never
4319
became manifest.
4320

4321
But, the comfort was, that all the company at the grand hotel of
4322
Monseigneur were perfectly dressed. If the Day of Judgment had only been
4323
ascertained to be a dress day, everybody there would have been eternally
4324
correct. Such frizzling and powdering and sticking up of hair, such
4325
delicate complexions artificially preserved and mended, such gallant
4326
swords to look at, and such delicate honour to the sense of smell, would
4327
surely keep anything going, for ever and ever. The exquisite gentlemen
4328
of the finest breeding wore little pendent trinkets that chinked as they
4329
languidly moved; these golden fetters rang like precious little bells;
4330
and what with that ringing, and with the rustle of silk and brocade and
4331
fine linen, there was a flutter in the air that fanned Saint Antoine and
4332
his devouring hunger far away.
4333

4334
Dress was the one unfailing talisman and charm used for keeping all
4335
things in their places. Everybody was dressed for a Fancy Ball that
4336
was never to leave off. From the Palace of the Tuileries, through
4337
Monseigneur and the whole Court, through the Chambers, the Tribunals
4338
of Justice, and all society (except the scarecrows), the Fancy Ball
4339
descended to the Common Executioner: who, in pursuance of the charm, was
4340
required to officiate "frizzled, powdered, in a gold-laced coat, pumps,
4341
and white silk stockings." At the gallows and the wheel--the axe was a
4342
rarity--Monsieur Paris, as it was the episcopal mode among his brother
4343
Professors of the provinces, Monsieur Orleans, and the rest, to call
4344
him, presided in this dainty dress. And who among the company at
4345
Monseigneur's reception in that seventeen hundred and eightieth year
4346
of our Lord, could possibly doubt, that a system rooted in a frizzled
4347
hangman, powdered, gold-laced, pumped, and white-silk stockinged, would
4348
see the very stars out!
4349

4350
Monseigneur having eased his four men of their burdens and taken his
4351
chocolate, caused the doors of the Holiest of Holiests to be thrown
4352
open, and issued forth. Then, what submission, what cringing and
4353
fawning, what servility, what abject humiliation! As to bowing down in
4354
body and spirit, nothing in that way was left for Heaven--which may have
4355
been one among other reasons why the worshippers of Monseigneur never
4356
troubled it.
4357

4358
Bestowing a word of promise here and a smile there, a whisper on one
4359
happy slave and a wave of the hand on another, Monseigneur affably
4360
passed through his rooms to the remote region of the Circumference of
4361
Truth. There, Monseigneur turned, and came back again, and so in due
4362
course of time got himself shut up in his sanctuary by the chocolate
4363
sprites, and was seen no more.
4364

4365
The show being over, the flutter in the air became quite a little storm,
4366
and the precious little bells went ringing downstairs. There was soon
4367
but one person left of all the crowd, and he, with his hat under his arm
4368
and his snuff-box in his hand, slowly passed among the mirrors on his
4369
way out.
4370

4371
"I devote you," said this person, stopping at the last door on his way,
4372
and turning in the direction of the sanctuary, "to the Devil!"
4373

4374
With that, he shook the snuff from his fingers as if he had shaken the
4375
dust from his feet, and quietly walked downstairs.
4376

4377
He was a man of about sixty, handsomely dressed, haughty in manner, and
4378
with a face like a fine mask. A face of a transparent paleness; every
4379
feature in it clearly defined; one set expression on it. The nose,
4380
beautifully formed otherwise, was very slightly pinched at the top
4381
of each nostril. In those two compressions, or dints, the only little
4382
change that the face ever showed, resided. They persisted in changing
4383
colour sometimes, and they would be occasionally dilated and contracted
4384
by something like a faint pulsation; then, they gave a look of
4385
treachery, and cruelty, to the whole countenance. Examined with
4386
attention, its capacity of helping such a look was to be found in the
4387
line of the mouth, and the lines of the orbits of the eyes, being much
4388
too horizontal and thin; still, in the effect of the face made, it was a
4389
handsome face, and a remarkable one.
4390

4391
Its owner went downstairs into the courtyard, got into his carriage, and
4392
drove away. Not many people had talked with him at the reception; he had
4393
stood in a little space apart, and Monseigneur might have been warmer
4394
in his manner. It appeared, under the circumstances, rather agreeable
4395
to him to see the common people dispersed before his horses, and
4396
often barely escaping from being run down. His man drove as if he were
4397
charging an enemy, and the furious recklessness of the man brought no
4398
check into the face, or to the lips, of the master. The complaint had
4399
sometimes made itself audible, even in that deaf city and dumb age,
4400
that, in the narrow streets without footways, the fierce patrician
4401
custom of hard driving endangered and maimed the mere vulgar in a
4402
barbarous manner. But, few cared enough for that to think of it a second
4403
time, and, in this matter, as in all others, the common wretches were
4404
left to get out of their difficulties as they could.
4405

4406
With a wild rattle and clatter, and an inhuman abandonment of
4407
consideration not easy to be understood in these days, the carriage
4408
dashed through streets and swept round corners, with women screaming
4409
before it, and men clutching each other and clutching children out of
4410
its way. At last, swooping at a street corner by a fountain, one of its
4411
wheels came to a sickening little jolt, and there was a loud cry from a
4412
number of voices, and the horses reared and plunged.
4413

4414
But for the latter inconvenience, the carriage probably would not have
4415
stopped; carriages were often known to drive on, and leave their wounded
4416
behind, and why not? But the frightened valet had got down in a hurry,
4417
and there were twenty hands at the horses' bridles.
4418

4419
"What has gone wrong?" said Monsieur, calmly looking out.
4420

4421
A tall man in a nightcap had caught up a bundle from among the feet of
4422
the horses, and had laid it on the basement of the fountain, and was
4423
down in the mud and wet, howling over it like a wild animal.
4424

4425
"Pardon, Monsieur the Marquis!" said a ragged and submissive man, "it is
4426
a child."
4427

4428
"Why does he make that abominable noise? Is it his child?"
4429

4430
"Excuse me, Monsieur the Marquis--it is a pity--yes."
4431

4432
The fountain was a little removed; for the street opened, where it was,
4433
into a space some ten or twelve yards square. As the tall man suddenly
4434
got up from the ground, and came running at the carriage, Monsieur the
4435
Marquis clapped his hand for an instant on his sword-hilt.
4436

4437
"Killed!" shrieked the man, in wild desperation, extending both arms at
4438
their length above his head, and staring at him. "Dead!"
4439

4440
The people closed round, and looked at Monsieur the Marquis. There was
4441
nothing revealed by the many eyes that looked at him but watchfulness
4442
and eagerness; there was no visible menacing or anger. Neither did the
4443
people say anything; after the first cry, they had been silent, and they
4444
remained so. The voice of the submissive man who had spoken, was flat
4445
and tame in its extreme submission. Monsieur the Marquis ran his eyes
4446
over them all, as if they had been mere rats come out of their holes.
4447

4448
He took out his purse.
4449

4450
"It is extraordinary to me," said he, "that you people cannot take care
4451
of yourselves and your children. One or the other of you is for ever in
4452
the way. How do I know what injury you have done my horses. See! Give
4453
him that."
4454

4455
He threw out a gold coin for the valet to pick up, and all the heads
4456
craned forward that all the eyes might look down at it as it fell. The
4457
tall man called out again with a most unearthly cry, "Dead!"
4458

4459
He was arrested by the quick arrival of another man, for whom the rest
4460
made way. On seeing him, the miserable creature fell upon his shoulder,
4461
sobbing and crying, and pointing to the fountain, where some women were
4462
stooping over the motionless bundle, and moving gently about it. They
4463
were as silent, however, as the men.
4464

4465
"I know all, I know all," said the last comer. "Be a brave man, my
4466
Gaspard! It is better for the poor little plaything to die so, than to
4467
live. It has died in a moment without pain. Could it have lived an hour
4468
as happily?"
4469

4470
"You are a philosopher, you there," said the Marquis, smiling. "How do
4471
they call you?"
4472

4473
"They call me Defarge."
4474

4475
"Of what trade?"
4476

4477
"Monsieur the Marquis, vendor of wine."
4478

4479
"Pick up that, philosopher and vendor of wine," said the Marquis,
4480
throwing him another gold coin, "and spend it as you will. The horses
4481
there; are they right?"
4482

4483
Without deigning to look at the assemblage a second time, Monsieur the
4484
Marquis leaned back in his seat, and was just being driven away with the
4485
air of a gentleman who had accidentally broke some common thing, and had
4486
paid for it, and could afford to pay for it; when his ease was suddenly
4487
disturbed by a coin flying into his carriage, and ringing on its floor.
4488

4489
"Hold!" said Monsieur the Marquis. "Hold the horses! Who threw that?"
4490

4491
He looked to the spot where Defarge the vendor of wine had stood, a
4492
moment before; but the wretched father was grovelling on his face on
4493
the pavement in that spot, and the figure that stood beside him was the
4494
figure of a dark stout woman, knitting.
4495

4496
"You dogs!" said the Marquis, but smoothly, and with an unchanged front,
4497
except as to the spots on his nose: "I would ride over any of you very
4498
willingly, and exterminate you from the earth. If I knew which rascal
4499
threw at the carriage, and if that brigand were sufficiently near it, he
4500
should be crushed under the wheels."
4501

4502
So cowed was their condition, and so long and hard their experience of
4503
what such a man could do to them, within the law and beyond it, that not
4504
a voice, or a hand, or even an eye was raised. Among the men, not one.
4505
But the woman who stood knitting looked up steadily, and looked the
4506
Marquis in the face. It was not for his dignity to notice it; his
4507
contemptuous eyes passed over her, and over all the other rats; and he
4508
leaned back in his seat again, and gave the word "Go on!"
4509

4510
He was driven on, and other carriages came whirling by in quick
4511
succession; the Minister, the State-Projector, the Farmer-General, the
4512
Doctor, the Lawyer, the Ecclesiastic, the Grand Opera, the Comedy, the
4513
whole Fancy Ball in a bright continuous flow, came whirling by. The rats
4514
had crept out of their holes to look on, and they remained looking
4515
on for hours; soldiers and police often passing between them and the
4516
spectacle, and making a barrier behind which they slunk, and through
4517
which they peeped. The father had long ago taken up his bundle and
4518
bidden himself away with it, when the women who had tended the bundle
4519
while it lay on the base of the fountain, sat there watching the running
4520
of the water and the rolling of the Fancy Ball--when the one woman who
4521
had stood conspicuous, knitting, still knitted on with the steadfastness
4522
of Fate. The water of the fountain ran, the swift river ran, the day ran
4523
into evening, so much life in the city ran into death according to rule,
4524
time and tide waited for no man, the rats were sleeping close together
4525
in their dark holes again, the Fancy Ball was lighted up at supper, all
4526
things ran their course.
4527

4528

4529

4530

4531
VIII. Monseigneur in the Country
4532

4533

4534
A beautiful landscape, with the corn bright in it, but not abundant.
4535
Patches of poor rye where corn should have been, patches of poor peas
4536
and beans, patches of most coarse vegetable substitutes for wheat. On
4537
inanimate nature, as on the men and women who cultivated it, a prevalent
4538
tendency towards an appearance of vegetating unwillingly--a dejected
4539
disposition to give up, and wither away.
4540

4541
Monsieur the Marquis in his travelling carriage (which might have been
4542
lighter), conducted by four post-horses and two postilions, fagged up
4543
a steep hill. A blush on the countenance of Monsieur the Marquis was
4544
no impeachment of his high breeding; it was not from within; it was
4545
occasioned by an external circumstance beyond his control--the setting
4546
sun.
4547

4548
The sunset struck so brilliantly into the travelling carriage when it
4549
gained the hill-top, that its occupant was steeped in crimson. "It will
4550
die out," said Monsieur the Marquis, glancing at his hands, "directly."
4551

4552
In effect, the sun was so low that it dipped at the moment. When the
4553
heavy drag had been adjusted to the wheel, and the carriage slid down
4554
hill, with a cinderous smell, in a cloud of dust, the red glow departed
4555
quickly; the sun and the Marquis going down together, there was no glow
4556
left when the drag was taken off.
4557

4558
But, there remained a broken country, bold and open, a little village
4559
at the bottom of the hill, a broad sweep and rise beyond it, a
4560
church-tower, a windmill, a forest for the chase, and a crag with a
4561
fortress on it used as a prison. Round upon all these darkening objects
4562
as the night drew on, the Marquis looked, with the air of one who was
4563
coming near home.
4564

4565
The village had its one poor street, with its poor brewery, poor
4566
tannery, poor tavern, poor stable-yard for relays of post-horses, poor
4567
fountain, all usual poor appointments. It had its poor people too. All
4568
its people were poor, and many of them were sitting at their doors,
4569
shredding spare onions and the like for supper, while many were at the
4570
fountain, washing leaves, and grasses, and any such small yieldings of
4571
the earth that could be eaten. Expressive signs of what made them poor,
4572
were not wanting; the tax for the state, the tax for the church, the tax
4573
for the lord, tax local and tax general, were to be paid here and to be
4574
paid there, according to solemn inscription in the little village, until
4575
the wonder was, that there was any village left unswallowed.
4576

4577
Few children were to be seen, and no dogs. As to the men and women,
4578
their choice on earth was stated in the prospect--Life on the lowest
4579
terms that could sustain it, down in the little village under the mill;
4580
or captivity and Death in the dominant prison on the crag.
4581

4582
Heralded by a courier in advance, and by the cracking of his postilions'
4583
whips, which twined snake-like about their heads in the evening air, as
4584
if he came attended by the Furies, Monsieur the Marquis drew up in
4585
his travelling carriage at the posting-house gate. It was hard by the
4586
fountain, and the peasants suspended their operations to look at him.
4587
He looked at them, and saw in them, without knowing it, the slow
4588
sure filing down of misery-worn face and figure, that was to make the
4589
meagreness of Frenchmen an English superstition which should survive the
4590
truth through the best part of a hundred years.
4591

4592
Monsieur the Marquis cast his eyes over the submissive faces that
4593
drooped before him, as the like of himself had drooped before
4594
Monseigneur of the Court--only the difference was, that these faces
4595
drooped merely to suffer and not to propitiate--when a grizzled mender
4596
of the roads joined the group.
4597

4598
"Bring me hither that fellow!" said the Marquis to the courier.
4599

4600
The fellow was brought, cap in hand, and the other fellows closed round
4601
to look and listen, in the manner of the people at the Paris fountain.
4602

4603
"I passed you on the road?"
4604

4605
"Monseigneur, it is true. I had the honour of being passed on the road."
4606

4607
"Coming up the hill, and at the top of the hill, both?"
4608

4609
"Monseigneur, it is true."
4610

4611
"What did you look at, so fixedly?"
4612

4613
"Monseigneur, I looked at the man."
4614

4615
He stooped a little, and with his tattered blue cap pointed under the
4616
carriage. All his fellows stooped to look under the carriage.
4617

4618
"What man, pig? And why look there?"
4619

4620
"Pardon, Monseigneur; he swung by the chain of the shoe--the drag."
4621

4622
"Who?" demanded the traveller.
4623

4624
"Monseigneur, the man."
4625

4626
"May the Devil carry away these idiots! How do you call the man? You
4627
know all the men of this part of the country. Who was he?"
4628

4629
"Your clemency, Monseigneur! He was not of this part of the country. Of
4630
all the days of my life, I never saw him."
4631

4632
"Swinging by the chain? To be suffocated?"
4633

4634
"With your gracious permission, that was the wonder of it, Monseigneur.
4635
His head hanging over--like this!"
4636

4637
He turned himself sideways to the carriage, and leaned back, with his
4638
face thrown up to the sky, and his head hanging down; then recovered
4639
himself, fumbled with his cap, and made a bow.
4640

4641
"What was he like?"
4642

4643
"Monseigneur, he was whiter than the miller. All covered with dust,
4644
white as a spectre, tall as a spectre!"
4645

4646
The picture produced an immense sensation in the little crowd; but all
4647
eyes, without comparing notes with other eyes, looked at Monsieur
4648
the Marquis. Perhaps, to observe whether he had any spectre on his
4649
conscience.
4650

4651
"Truly, you did well," said the Marquis, felicitously sensible that such
4652
vermin were not to ruffle him, "to see a thief accompanying my carriage,
4653
and not open that great mouth of yours. Bah! Put him aside, Monsieur
4654
Gabelle!"
4655

4656
Monsieur Gabelle was the Postmaster, and some other taxing functionary
4657
united; he had come out with great obsequiousness to assist at this
4658
examination, and had held the examined by the drapery of his arm in an
4659
official manner.
4660

4661
"Bah! Go aside!" said Monsieur Gabelle.
4662

4663
"Lay hands on this stranger if he seeks to lodge in your village
4664
to-night, and be sure that his business is honest, Gabelle."
4665

4666
"Monseigneur, I am flattered to devote myself to your orders."
4667

4668
"Did he run away, fellow?--where is that Accursed?"
4669

4670
The accursed was already under the carriage with some half-dozen
4671
particular friends, pointing out the chain with his blue cap. Some
4672
half-dozen other particular friends promptly hauled him out, and
4673
presented him breathless to Monsieur the Marquis.
4674

4675
"Did the man run away, Dolt, when we stopped for the drag?"
4676

4677
"Monseigneur, he precipitated himself over the hill-side, head first, as
4678
a person plunges into the river."
4679

4680
"See to it, Gabelle. Go on!"
4681

4682
The half-dozen who were peering at the chain were still among the
4683
wheels, like sheep; the wheels turned so suddenly that they were lucky
4684
to save their skins and bones; they had very little else to save, or
4685
they might not have been so fortunate.
4686

4687
The burst with which the carriage started out of the village and up the
4688
rise beyond, was soon checked by the steepness of the hill. Gradually,
4689
it subsided to a foot pace, swinging and lumbering upward among the many
4690
sweet scents of a summer night. The postilions, with a thousand gossamer
4691
gnats circling about them in lieu of the Furies, quietly mended the
4692
points to the lashes of their whips; the valet walked by the horses; the
4693
courier was audible, trotting on ahead into the dull distance.
4694

4695
At the steepest point of the hill there was a little burial-ground,
4696
with a Cross and a new large figure of Our Saviour on it; it was a poor
4697
figure in wood, done by some inexperienced rustic carver, but he had
4698
studied the figure from the life--his own life, maybe--for it was
4699
dreadfully spare and thin.
4700

4701
To this distressful emblem of a great distress that had long been
4702
growing worse, and was not at its worst, a woman was kneeling. She
4703
turned her head as the carriage came up to her, rose quickly, and
4704
presented herself at the carriage-door.
4705

4706
"It is you, Monseigneur! Monseigneur, a petition."
4707

4708
With an exclamation of impatience, but with his unchangeable face,
4709
Monseigneur looked out.
4710

4711
"How, then! What is it? Always petitions!"
4712

4713
"Monseigneur. For the love of the great God! My husband, the forester."
4714

4715
"What of your husband, the forester? Always the same with you people. He
4716
cannot pay something?"
4717

4718
"He has paid all, Monseigneur. He is dead."
4719

4720
"Well! He is quiet. Can I restore him to you?"
4721

4722
"Alas, no, Monseigneur! But he lies yonder, under a little heap of poor
4723
grass."
4724

4725
"Well?"
4726

4727
"Monseigneur, there are so many little heaps of poor grass?"
4728

4729
"Again, well?"
4730

4731
She looked an old woman, but was young. Her manner was one of passionate
4732
grief; by turns she clasped her veinous and knotted hands together
4733
with wild energy, and laid one of them on the carriage-door--tenderly,
4734
caressingly, as if it had been a human breast, and could be expected to
4735
feel the appealing touch.
4736

4737
"Monseigneur, hear me! Monseigneur, hear my petition! My husband died of
4738
want; so many die of want; so many more will die of want."
4739

4740
"Again, well? Can I feed them?"
4741

4742
"Monseigneur, the good God knows; but I don't ask it. My petition is,
4743
that a morsel of stone or wood, with my husband's name, may be placed
4744
over him to show where he lies. Otherwise, the place will be quickly
4745
forgotten, it will never be found when I am dead of the same malady, I
4746
shall be laid under some other heap of poor grass. Monseigneur, they
4747
are so many, they increase so fast, there is so much want. Monseigneur!
4748
Monseigneur!"
4749

4750
The valet had put her away from the door, the carriage had broken into
4751
a brisk trot, the postilions had quickened the pace, she was left far
4752
behind, and Monseigneur, again escorted by the Furies, was rapidly
4753
diminishing the league or two of distance that remained between him and
4754
his chateau.
4755

4756
The sweet scents of the summer night rose all around him, and rose, as
4757
the rain falls, impartially, on the dusty, ragged, and toil-worn group
4758
at the fountain not far away; to whom the mender of roads, with the aid
4759
of the blue cap without which he was nothing, still enlarged upon his
4760
man like a spectre, as long as they could bear it. By degrees, as they
4761
could bear no more, they dropped off one by one, and lights twinkled
4762
in little casements; which lights, as the casements darkened, and more
4763
stars came out, seemed to have shot up into the sky instead of having
4764
been extinguished.
4765

4766
The shadow of a large high-roofed house, and of many over-hanging trees,
4767
was upon Monsieur the Marquis by that time; and the shadow was exchanged
4768
for the light of a flambeau, as his carriage stopped, and the great door
4769
of his chateau was opened to him.
4770

4771
"Monsieur Charles, whom I expect; is he arrived from England?"
4772

4773
"Monseigneur, not yet."
4774

4775

4776

4777

4778
IX. The Gorgon's Head
4779

4780

4781
It was a heavy mass of building, that chateau of Monsieur the Marquis,
4782
with a large stone courtyard before it, and two stone sweeps of
4783
staircase meeting in a stone terrace before the principal door. A stony
4784
business altogether, with heavy stone balustrades, and stone urns, and
4785
stone flowers, and stone faces of men, and stone heads of lions, in
4786
all directions. As if the Gorgon's head had surveyed it, when it was
4787
finished, two centuries ago.
4788

4789
Up the broad flight of shallow steps, Monsieur the Marquis, flambeau
4790
preceded, went from his carriage, sufficiently disturbing the darkness
4791
to elicit loud remonstrance from an owl in the roof of the great pile
4792
of stable building away among the trees. All else was so quiet, that the
4793
flambeau carried up the steps, and the other flambeau held at the great
4794
door, burnt as if they were in a close room of state, instead of being
4795
in the open night-air. Other sound than the owl's voice there was none,
4796
save the falling of a fountain into its stone basin; for, it was one of
4797
those dark nights that hold their breath by the hour together, and then
4798
heave a long low sigh, and hold their breath again.
4799

4800
The great door clanged behind him, and Monsieur the Marquis crossed a
4801
hall grim with certain old boar-spears, swords, and knives of the chase;
4802
grimmer with certain heavy riding-rods and riding-whips, of which many a
4803
peasant, gone to his benefactor Death, had felt the weight when his lord
4804
was angry.
4805

4806
Avoiding the larger rooms, which were dark and made fast for the night,
4807
Monsieur the Marquis, with his flambeau-bearer going on before, went up
4808
the staircase to a door in a corridor. This thrown open, admitted him
4809
to his own private apartment of three rooms: his bed-chamber and two
4810
others. High vaulted rooms with cool uncarpeted floors, great dogs upon
4811
the hearths for the burning of wood in winter time, and all luxuries
4812
befitting the state of a marquis in a luxurious age and country.
4813
The fashion of the last Louis but one, of the line that was never to
4814
break--the fourteenth Louis--was conspicuous in their rich furniture;
4815
but, it was diversified by many objects that were illustrations of old
4816
pages in the history of France.
4817

4818
A supper-table was laid for two, in the third of the rooms; a round
4819
room, in one of the chateau's four extinguisher-topped towers. A small
4820
lofty room, with its window wide open, and the wooden jalousie-blinds
4821
closed, so that the dark night only showed in slight horizontal lines of
4822
black, alternating with their broad lines of stone colour.
4823

4824
"My nephew," said the Marquis, glancing at the supper preparation; "they
4825
said he was not arrived."
4826

4827
Nor was he; but, he had been expected with Monseigneur.
4828

4829
"Ah! It is not probable he will arrive to-night; nevertheless, leave the
4830
table as it is. I shall be ready in a quarter of an hour."
4831

4832
In a quarter of an hour Monseigneur was ready, and sat down alone to his
4833
sumptuous and choice supper. His chair was opposite to the window, and
4834
he had taken his soup, and was raising his glass of Bordeaux to his
4835
lips, when he put it down.
4836

4837
"What is that?" he calmly asked, looking with attention at the
4838
horizontal lines of black and stone colour.
4839

4840
"Monseigneur? That?"
4841

4842
"Outside the blinds. Open the blinds."
4843

4844
It was done.
4845

4846
"Well?"
4847

4848
"Monseigneur, it is nothing. The trees and the night are all that are
4849
here."
4850

4851
The servant who spoke, had thrown the blinds wide, had looked out into
4852
the vacant darkness, and stood with that blank behind him, looking round
4853
for instructions.
4854

4855
"Good," said the imperturbable master. "Close them again."
4856

4857
That was done too, and the Marquis went on with his supper. He was
4858
half way through it, when he again stopped with his glass in his hand,
4859
hearing the sound of wheels. It came on briskly, and came up to the
4860
front of the chateau.
4861

4862
"Ask who is arrived."
4863

4864
It was the nephew of Monseigneur. He had been some few leagues behind
4865
Monseigneur, early in the afternoon. He had diminished the distance
4866
rapidly, but not so rapidly as to come up with Monseigneur on the road.
4867
He had heard of Monseigneur, at the posting-houses, as being before him.
4868

4869
He was to be told (said Monseigneur) that supper awaited him then and
4870
there, and that he was prayed to come to it. In a little while he came.
4871
He had been known in England as Charles Darnay.
4872

4873
Monseigneur received him in a courtly manner, but they did not shake
4874
hands.
4875

4876
"You left Paris yesterday, sir?" he said to Monseigneur, as he took his
4877
seat at table.
4878

4879
"Yesterday. And you?"
4880

4881
"I come direct."
4882

4883
"From London?"
4884

4885
"Yes."
4886

4887
"You have been a long time coming," said the Marquis, with a smile.
4888

4889
"On the contrary; I come direct."
4890

4891
"Pardon me! I mean, not a long time on the journey; a long time
4892
intending the journey."
4893

4894
"I have been detained by"--the nephew stopped a moment in his
4895
answer--"various business."
4896

4897
"Without doubt," said the polished uncle.
4898

4899
So long as a servant was present, no other words passed between them.
4900
When coffee had been served and they were alone together, the nephew,
4901
looking at the uncle and meeting the eyes of the face that was like a
4902
fine mask, opened a conversation.
4903

4904
"I have come back, sir, as you anticipate, pursuing the object that
4905
took me away. It carried me into great and unexpected peril; but it is
4906
a sacred object, and if it had carried me to death I hope it would have
4907
sustained me."
4908

4909
"Not to death," said the uncle; "it is not necessary to say, to death."
4910

4911
"I doubt, sir," returned the nephew, "whether, if it had carried me to
4912
the utmost brink of death, you would have cared to stop me there."
4913

4914
The deepened marks in the nose, and the lengthening of the fine straight
4915
lines in the cruel face, looked ominous as to that; the uncle made a
4916
graceful gesture of protest, which was so clearly a slight form of good
4917
breeding that it was not reassuring.
4918

4919
"Indeed, sir," pursued the nephew, "for anything I know, you may have
4920
expressly worked to give a more suspicious appearance to the suspicious
4921
circumstances that surrounded me."
4922

4923
"No, no, no," said the uncle, pleasantly.
4924

4925
"But, however that may be," resumed the nephew, glancing at him with
4926
deep distrust, "I know that your diplomacy would stop me by any means,
4927
and would know no scruple as to means."
4928

4929
"My friend, I told you so," said the uncle, with a fine pulsation in the
4930
two marks. "Do me the favour to recall that I told you so, long ago."
4931

4932
"I recall it."
4933

4934
"Thank you," said the Marquis--very sweetly indeed.
4935

4936
His tone lingered in the air, almost like the tone of a musical
4937
instrument.
4938

4939
"In effect, sir," pursued the nephew, "I believe it to be at once your
4940
bad fortune, and my good fortune, that has kept me out of a prison in
4941
France here."
4942

4943
"I do not quite understand," returned the uncle, sipping his coffee.
4944
"Dare I ask you to explain?"
4945

4946
"I believe that if you were not in disgrace with the Court, and had not
4947
been overshadowed by that cloud for years past, a letter de cachet would
4948
have sent me to some fortress indefinitely."
4949

4950
"It is possible," said the uncle, with great calmness. "For the honour
4951
of the family, I could even resolve to incommode you to that extent.
4952
Pray excuse me!"
4953

4954
"I perceive that, happily for me, the Reception of the day before
4955
yesterday was, as usual, a cold one," observed the nephew.
4956

4957
"I would not say happily, my friend," returned the uncle, with refined
4958
politeness; "I would not be sure of that. A good opportunity for
4959
consideration, surrounded by the advantages of solitude, might influence
4960
your destiny to far greater advantage than you influence it for
4961
yourself. But it is useless to discuss the question. I am, as you say,
4962
at a disadvantage. These little instruments of correction, these gentle
4963
aids to the power and honour of families, these slight favours that
4964
might so incommode you, are only to be obtained now by interest
4965
and importunity. They are sought by so many, and they are granted
4966
(comparatively) to so few! It used not to be so, but France in all such
4967
things is changed for the worse. Our not remote ancestors held the right
4968
of life and death over the surrounding vulgar. From this room, many such
4969
dogs have been taken out to be hanged; in the next room (my bedroom),
4970
one fellow, to our knowledge, was poniarded on the spot for professing
4971
some insolent delicacy respecting his daughter--_his_ daughter? We have
4972
lost many privileges; a new philosophy has become the mode; and the
4973
assertion of our station, in these days, might (I do not go so far as
4974
to say would, but might) cause us real inconvenience. All very bad, very
4975
bad!"
4976

4977
The Marquis took a gentle little pinch of snuff, and shook his head;
4978
as elegantly despondent as he could becomingly be of a country still
4979
containing himself, that great means of regeneration.
4980

4981
"We have so asserted our station, both in the old time and in the modern
4982
time also," said the nephew, gloomily, "that I believe our name to be
4983
more detested than any name in France."
4984

4985
"Let us hope so," said the uncle. "Detestation of the high is the
4986
involuntary homage of the low."
4987

4988
"There is not," pursued the nephew, in his former tone, "a face I can
4989
look at, in all this country round about us, which looks at me with any
4990
deference on it but the dark deference of fear and slavery."
4991

4992
"A compliment," said the Marquis, "to the grandeur of the family,
4993
merited by the manner in which the family has sustained its grandeur.
4994
Hah!" And he took another gentle little pinch of snuff, and lightly
4995
crossed his legs.
4996

4997
But, when his nephew, leaning an elbow on the table, covered his eyes
4998
thoughtfully and dejectedly with his hand, the fine mask looked at
4999
him sideways with a stronger concentration of keenness, closeness,
5000
and dislike, than was comportable with its wearer's assumption of
5001
indifference.
5002

5003
"Repression is the only lasting philosophy. The dark deference of fear
5004
and slavery, my friend," observed the Marquis, "will keep the dogs
5005
obedient to the whip, as long as this roof," looking up to it, "shuts
5006
out the sky."
5007

5008
That might not be so long as the Marquis supposed. If a picture of the
5009
chateau as it was to be a very few years hence, and of fifty like it as
5010
they too were to be a very few years hence, could have been shown to
5011
him that night, he might have been at a loss to claim his own from
5012
the ghastly, fire-charred, plunder-wrecked rains. As for the roof
5013
he vaunted, he might have found _that_ shutting out the sky in a new
5014
way--to wit, for ever, from the eyes of the bodies into which its lead
5015
was fired, out of the barrels of a hundred thousand muskets.
5016

5017
"Meanwhile," said the Marquis, "I will preserve the honour and repose
5018
of the family, if you will not. But you must be fatigued. Shall we
5019
terminate our conference for the night?"
5020

5021
"A moment more."
5022

5023
"An hour, if you please."
5024

5025
"Sir," said the nephew, "we have done wrong, and are reaping the fruits
5026
of wrong."
5027

5028
"_We_ have done wrong?" repeated the Marquis, with an inquiring smile,
5029
and delicately pointing, first to his nephew, then to himself.
5030

5031
"Our family; our honourable family, whose honour is of so much account
5032
to both of us, in such different ways. Even in my father's time, we did
5033
a world of wrong, injuring every human creature who came between us and
5034
our pleasure, whatever it was. Why need I speak of my father's time,
5035
when it is equally yours? Can I separate my father's twin-brother, joint
5036
inheritor, and next successor, from himself?"
5037

5038
"Death has done that!" said the Marquis.
5039

5040
"And has left me," answered the nephew, "bound to a system that is
5041
frightful to me, responsible for it, but powerless in it; seeking to
5042
execute the last request of my dear mother's lips, and obey the last
5043
look of my dear mother's eyes, which implored me to have mercy and to
5044
redress; and tortured by seeking assistance and power in vain."
5045

5046
"Seeking them from me, my nephew," said the Marquis, touching him on the
5047
breast with his forefinger--they were now standing by the hearth--"you
5048
will for ever seek them in vain, be assured."
5049

5050
Every fine straight line in the clear whiteness of his face, was
5051
cruelly, craftily, and closely compressed, while he stood looking
5052
quietly at his nephew, with his snuff-box in his hand. Once again he
5053
touched him on the breast, as though his finger were the fine point of
5054
a small sword, with which, in delicate finesse, he ran him through the
5055
body, and said,
5056

5057
"My friend, I will die, perpetuating the system under which I have
5058
lived."
5059

5060
When he had said it, he took a culminating pinch of snuff, and put his
5061
box in his pocket.
5062

5063
"Better to be a rational creature," he added then, after ringing a small
5064
bell on the table, "and accept your natural destiny. But you are lost,
5065
Monsieur Charles, I see."
5066

5067
"This property and France are lost to me," said the nephew, sadly; "I
5068
renounce them."
5069

5070
"Are they both yours to renounce? France may be, but is the property? It
5071
is scarcely worth mentioning; but, is it yet?"
5072

5073
"I had no intention, in the words I used, to claim it yet. If it passed
5074
to me from you, to-morrow--"
5075

5076
"Which I have the vanity to hope is not probable."
5077

5078
"--or twenty years hence--"
5079

5080
"You do me too much honour," said the Marquis; "still, I prefer that
5081
supposition."
5082

5083
"--I would abandon it, and live otherwise and elsewhere. It is little to
5084
relinquish. What is it but a wilderness of misery and ruin!"
5085

5086
"Hah!" said the Marquis, glancing round the luxurious room.
5087

5088
"To the eye it is fair enough, here; but seen in its integrity,
5089
under the sky, and by the daylight, it is a crumbling tower of waste,
5090
mismanagement, extortion, debt, mortgage, oppression, hunger, nakedness,
5091
and suffering."
5092

5093
"Hah!" said the Marquis again, in a well-satisfied manner.
5094

5095
"If it ever becomes mine, it shall be put into some hands better
5096
qualified to free it slowly (if such a thing is possible) from the
5097
weight that drags it down, so that the miserable people who cannot leave
5098
it and who have been long wrung to the last point of endurance, may, in
5099
another generation, suffer less; but it is not for me. There is a curse
5100
on it, and on all this land."
5101

5102
"And you?" said the uncle. "Forgive my curiosity; do you, under your new
5103
philosophy, graciously intend to live?"
5104

5105
"I must do, to live, what others of my countrymen, even with nobility at
5106
their backs, may have to do some day--work."
5107

5108
"In England, for example?"
5109

5110
"Yes. The family honour, sir, is safe from me in this country. The
5111
family name can suffer from me in no other, for I bear it in no other."
5112

5113
The ringing of the bell had caused the adjoining bed-chamber to be
5114
lighted. It now shone brightly, through the door of communication. The
5115
Marquis looked that way, and listened for the retreating step of his
5116
valet.
5117

5118
"England is very attractive to you, seeing how indifferently you have
5119
prospered there," he observed then, turning his calm face to his nephew
5120
with a smile.
5121

5122
"I have already said, that for my prospering there, I am sensible I may
5123
be indebted to you, sir. For the rest, it is my Refuge."
5124

5125
"They say, those boastful English, that it is the Refuge of many. You
5126
know a compatriot who has found a Refuge there? A Doctor?"
5127

5128
"Yes."
5129

5130
"With a daughter?"
5131

5132
"Yes."
5133

5134
"Yes," said the Marquis. "You are fatigued. Good night!"
5135

5136
As he bent his head in his most courtly manner, there was a secrecy
5137
in his smiling face, and he conveyed an air of mystery to those words,
5138
which struck the eyes and ears of his nephew forcibly. At the same
5139
time, the thin straight lines of the setting of the eyes, and the thin
5140
straight lips, and the markings in the nose, curved with a sarcasm that
5141
looked handsomely diabolic.
5142

5143
"Yes," repeated the Marquis. "A Doctor with a daughter. Yes. So
5144
commences the new philosophy! You are fatigued. Good night!"
5145

5146
It would have been of as much avail to interrogate any stone face
5147
outside the chateau as to interrogate that face of his. The nephew
5148
looked at him, in vain, in passing on to the door.
5149

5150
"Good night!" said the uncle. "I look to the pleasure of seeing you
5151
again in the morning. Good repose! Light Monsieur my nephew to his
5152
chamber there!--And burn Monsieur my nephew in his bed, if you will," he
5153
added to himself, before he rang his little bell again, and summoned his
5154
valet to his own bedroom.
5155

5156
The valet come and gone, Monsieur the Marquis walked to and fro in his
5157
loose chamber-robe, to prepare himself gently for sleep, that hot still
5158
night. Rustling about the room, his softly-slippered feet making no
5159
noise on the floor, he moved like a refined tiger:--looked like some
5160
enchanted marquis of the impenitently wicked sort, in story, whose
5161
periodical change into tiger form was either just going off, or just
5162
coming on.
5163

5164
He moved from end to end of his voluptuous bedroom, looking again at the
5165
scraps of the day's journey that came unbidden into his mind; the slow
5166
toil up the hill at sunset, the setting sun, the descent, the mill, the
5167
prison on the crag, the little village in the hollow, the peasants at
5168
the fountain, and the mender of roads with his blue cap pointing out the
5169
chain under the carriage. That fountain suggested the Paris fountain,
5170
the little bundle lying on the step, the women bending over it, and the
5171
tall man with his arms up, crying, "Dead!"
5172

5173
"I am cool now," said Monsieur the Marquis, "and may go to bed."
5174

5175
So, leaving only one light burning on the large hearth, he let his thin
5176
gauze curtains fall around him, and heard the night break its silence
5177
with a long sigh as he composed himself to sleep.
5178

5179
The stone faces on the outer walls stared blindly at the black night
5180
for three heavy hours; for three heavy hours, the horses in the stables
5181
rattled at their racks, the dogs barked, and the owl made a noise with
5182
very little resemblance in it to the noise conventionally assigned to
5183
the owl by men-poets. But it is the obstinate custom of such creatures
5184
hardly ever to say what is set down for them.
5185

5186
For three heavy hours, the stone faces of the chateau, lion and human,
5187
stared blindly at the night. Dead darkness lay on all the landscape,
5188
dead darkness added its own hush to the hushing dust on all the roads.
5189
The burial-place had got to the pass that its little heaps of poor grass
5190
were undistinguishable from one another; the figure on the Cross might
5191
have come down, for anything that could be seen of it. In the village,
5192
taxers and taxed were fast asleep. Dreaming, perhaps, of banquets, as
5193
the starved usually do, and of ease and rest, as the driven slave and
5194
the yoked ox may, its lean inhabitants slept soundly, and were fed and
5195
freed.
5196

5197
The fountain in the village flowed unseen and unheard, and the fountain
5198
at the chateau dropped unseen and unheard--both melting away, like the
5199
minutes that were falling from the spring of Time--through three dark
5200
hours. Then, the grey water of both began to be ghostly in the light,
5201
and the eyes of the stone faces of the chateau were opened.
5202

5203
Lighter and lighter, until at last the sun touched the tops of the still
5204
trees, and poured its radiance over the hill. In the glow, the water
5205
of the chateau fountain seemed to turn to blood, and the stone faces
5206
crimsoned. The carol of the birds was loud and high, and, on the
5207
weather-beaten sill of the great window of the bed-chamber of Monsieur
5208
the Marquis, one little bird sang its sweetest song with all its might.
5209
At this, the nearest stone face seemed to stare amazed, and, with open
5210
mouth and dropped under-jaw, looked awe-stricken.
5211

5212
Now, the sun was full up, and movement began in the village. Casement
5213
windows opened, crazy doors were unbarred, and people came forth
5214
shivering--chilled, as yet, by the new sweet air. Then began the rarely
5215
lightened toil of the day among the village population. Some, to the
5216
fountain; some, to the fields; men and women here, to dig and delve; men
5217
and women there, to see to the poor live stock, and lead the bony cows
5218
out, to such pasture as could be found by the roadside. In the church
5219
and at the Cross, a kneeling figure or two; attendant on the latter
5220
prayers, the led cow, trying for a breakfast among the weeds at its
5221
foot.
5222

5223
The chateau awoke later, as became its quality, but awoke gradually and
5224
surely. First, the lonely boar-spears and knives of the chase had been
5225
reddened as of old; then, had gleamed trenchant in the morning sunshine;
5226
now, doors and windows were thrown open, horses in their stables looked
5227
round over their shoulders at the light and freshness pouring in at
5228
doorways, leaves sparkled and rustled at iron-grated windows, dogs
5229
pulled hard at their chains, and reared impatient to be loosed.
5230

5231
All these trivial incidents belonged to the routine of life, and the
5232
return of morning. Surely, not so the ringing of the great bell of the
5233
chateau, nor the running up and down the stairs; nor the hurried
5234
figures on the terrace; nor the booting and tramping here and there and
5235
everywhere, nor the quick saddling of horses and riding away?
5236

5237
What winds conveyed this hurry to the grizzled mender of roads, already
5238
at work on the hill-top beyond the village, with his day's dinner (not
5239
much to carry) lying in a bundle that it was worth no crow's while to
5240
peck at, on a heap of stones? Had the birds, carrying some grains of it
5241
to a distance, dropped one over him as they sow chance seeds? Whether or
5242
no, the mender of roads ran, on the sultry morning, as if for his life,
5243
down the hill, knee-high in dust, and never stopped till he got to the
5244
fountain.
5245

5246
All the people of the village were at the fountain, standing about
5247
in their depressed manner, and whispering low, but showing no other
5248
emotions than grim curiosity and surprise. The led cows, hastily brought
5249
in and tethered to anything that would hold them, were looking stupidly
5250
on, or lying down chewing the cud of nothing particularly repaying their
5251
trouble, which they had picked up in their interrupted saunter. Some of
5252
the people of the chateau, and some of those of the posting-house, and
5253
all the taxing authorities, were armed more or less, and were crowded
5254
on the other side of the little street in a purposeless way, that was
5255
highly fraught with nothing. Already, the mender of roads had penetrated
5256
into the midst of a group of fifty particular friends, and was smiting
5257
himself in the breast with his blue cap. What did all this portend,
5258
and what portended the swift hoisting-up of Monsieur Gabelle behind
5259
a servant on horseback, and the conveying away of the said Gabelle
5260
(double-laden though the horse was), at a gallop, like a new version of
5261
the German ballad of Leonora?
5262

5263
It portended that there was one stone face too many, up at the chateau.
5264

5265
The Gorgon had surveyed the building again in the night, and had added
5266
the one stone face wanting; the stone face for which it had waited
5267
through about two hundred years.
5268

5269
It lay back on the pillow of Monsieur the Marquis. It was like a fine
5270
mask, suddenly startled, made angry, and petrified. Driven home into the
5271
heart of the stone figure attached to it, was a knife. Round its hilt
5272
was a frill of paper, on which was scrawled:
5273

5274
"Drive him fast to his tomb. This, from Jacques."
5275

5276

5277

5278

5279
X. Two Promises
5280

5281

5282
More months, to the number of twelve, had come and gone, and Mr. Charles
5283
Darnay was established in England as a higher teacher of the French
5284
language who was conversant with French literature. In this age, he
5285
would have been a Professor; in that age, he was a Tutor. He read with
5286
young men who could find any leisure and interest for the study of a
5287
living tongue spoken all over the world, and he cultivated a taste for
5288
its stores of knowledge and fancy. He could write of them, besides, in
5289
sound English, and render them into sound English. Such masters were not
5290
at that time easily found; Princes that had been, and Kings that were
5291
to be, were not yet of the Teacher class, and no ruined nobility had
5292
dropped out of Tellson's ledgers, to turn cooks and carpenters. As a
5293
tutor, whose attainments made the student's way unusually pleasant and
5294
profitable, and as an elegant translator who brought something to his
5295
work besides mere dictionary knowledge, young Mr. Darnay soon became
5296
known and encouraged. He was well acquainted, more-over, with the
5297
circumstances of his country, and those were of ever-growing interest.
5298
So, with great perseverance and untiring industry, he prospered.
5299

5300
In London, he had expected neither to walk on pavements of gold, nor
5301
to lie on beds of roses; if he had had any such exalted expectation, he
5302
would not have prospered. He had expected labour, and he found it, and
5303
did it and made the best of it. In this, his prosperity consisted.
5304

5305
A certain portion of his time was passed at Cambridge, where he
5306
read with undergraduates as a sort of tolerated smuggler who drove a
5307
contraband trade in European languages, instead of conveying Greek
5308
and Latin through the Custom-house. The rest of his time he passed in
5309
London.
5310

5311
Now, from the days when it was always summer in Eden, to these days
5312
when it is mostly winter in fallen latitudes, the world of a man has
5313
invariably gone one way--Charles Darnay's way--the way of the love of a
5314
woman.
5315

5316
He had loved Lucie Manette from the hour of his danger. He had never
5317
heard a sound so sweet and dear as the sound of her compassionate voice;
5318
he had never seen a face so tenderly beautiful, as hers when it was
5319
confronted with his own on the edge of the grave that had been dug for
5320
him. But, he had not yet spoken to her on the subject; the assassination
5321
at the deserted chateau far away beyond the heaving water and the long,
5322
long, dusty roads--the solid stone chateau which had itself become the
5323
mere mist of a dream--had been done a year, and he had never yet, by so
5324
much as a single spoken word, disclosed to her the state of his heart.
5325

5326
That he had his reasons for this, he knew full well. It was again a
5327
summer day when, lately arrived in London from his college occupation,
5328
he turned into the quiet corner in Soho, bent on seeking an opportunity
5329
of opening his mind to Doctor Manette. It was the close of the summer
5330
day, and he knew Lucie to be out with Miss Pross.
5331

5332
He found the Doctor reading in his arm-chair at a window. The energy
5333
which had at once supported him under his old sufferings and aggravated
5334
their sharpness, had been gradually restored to him. He was now a
5335
very energetic man indeed, with great firmness of purpose, strength
5336
of resolution, and vigour of action. In his recovered energy he was
5337
sometimes a little fitful and sudden, as he had at first been in the
5338
exercise of his other recovered faculties; but, this had never been
5339
frequently observable, and had grown more and more rare.
5340

5341
He studied much, slept little, sustained a great deal of fatigue with
5342
ease, and was equably cheerful. To him, now entered Charles Darnay, at
5343
sight of whom he laid aside his book and held out his hand.
5344

5345
"Charles Darnay! I rejoice to see you. We have been counting on your
5346
return these three or four days past. Mr. Stryver and Sydney Carton were
5347
both here yesterday, and both made you out to be more than due."
5348

5349
"I am obliged to them for their interest in the matter," he answered,
5350
a little coldly as to them, though very warmly as to the Doctor. "Miss
5351
Manette--"
5352

5353
"Is well," said the Doctor, as he stopped short, "and your return will
5354
delight us all. She has gone out on some household matters, but will
5355
soon be home."
5356

5357
"Doctor Manette, I knew she was from home. I took the opportunity of her
5358
being from home, to beg to speak to you."
5359

5360
There was a blank silence.
5361

5362
"Yes?" said the Doctor, with evident constraint. "Bring your chair here,
5363
and speak on."
5364

5365
He complied as to the chair, but appeared to find the speaking on less
5366
easy.
5367

5368
"I have had the happiness, Doctor Manette, of being so intimate here,"
5369
 so he at length began, "for some year and a half, that I hope the topic
5370
on which I am about to touch may not--"
5371

5372
He was stayed by the Doctor's putting out his hand to stop him. When he
5373
had kept it so a little while, he said, drawing it back:
5374

5375
"Is Lucie the topic?"
5376

5377
"She is."
5378

5379
"It is hard for me to speak of her at any time. It is very hard for me
5380
to hear her spoken of in that tone of yours, Charles Darnay."
5381

5382
"It is a tone of fervent admiration, true homage, and deep love, Doctor
5383
Manette!" he said deferentially.
5384

5385
There was another blank silence before her father rejoined:
5386

5387
"I believe it. I do you justice; I believe it."
5388

5389
His constraint was so manifest, and it was so manifest, too, that it
5390
originated in an unwillingness to approach the subject, that Charles
5391
Darnay hesitated.
5392

5393
"Shall I go on, sir?"
5394

5395
Another blank.
5396

5397
"Yes, go on."
5398

5399
"You anticipate what I would say, though you cannot know how earnestly
5400
I say it, how earnestly I feel it, without knowing my secret heart, and
5401
the hopes and fears and anxieties with which it has long been
5402
laden. Dear Doctor Manette, I love your daughter fondly, dearly,
5403
disinterestedly, devotedly. If ever there were love in the world, I love
5404
her. You have loved yourself; let your old love speak for me!"
5405

5406
The Doctor sat with his face turned away, and his eyes bent on the
5407
ground. At the last words, he stretched out his hand again, hurriedly,
5408
and cried:
5409

5410
"Not that, sir! Let that be! I adjure you, do not recall that!"
5411

5412
His cry was so like a cry of actual pain, that it rang in Charles
5413
Darnay's ears long after he had ceased. He motioned with the hand he had
5414
extended, and it seemed to be an appeal to Darnay to pause. The latter
5415
so received it, and remained silent.
5416

5417
"I ask your pardon," said the Doctor, in a subdued tone, after some
5418
moments. "I do not doubt your loving Lucie; you may be satisfied of it."
5419

5420
He turned towards him in his chair, but did not look at him, or
5421
raise his eyes. His chin dropped upon his hand, and his white hair
5422
overshadowed his face:
5423

5424
"Have you spoken to Lucie?"
5425

5426
"No."
5427

5428
"Nor written?"
5429

5430
"Never."
5431

5432
"It would be ungenerous to affect not to know that your self-denial is
5433
to be referred to your consideration for her father. Her father thanks
5434
you."
5435

5436
He offered his hand; but his eyes did not go with it.
5437

5438
"I know," said Darnay, respectfully, "how can I fail to know, Doctor
5439
Manette, I who have seen you together from day to day, that between
5440
you and Miss Manette there is an affection so unusual, so touching, so
5441
belonging to the circumstances in which it has been nurtured, that it
5442
can have few parallels, even in the tenderness between a father and
5443
child. I know, Doctor Manette--how can I fail to know--that, mingled
5444
with the affection and duty of a daughter who has become a woman, there
5445
is, in her heart, towards you, all the love and reliance of infancy
5446
itself. I know that, as in her childhood she had no parent, so she is
5447
now devoted to you with all the constancy and fervour of her present
5448
years and character, united to the trustfulness and attachment of the
5449
early days in which you were lost to her. I know perfectly well that if
5450
you had been restored to her from the world beyond this life, you could
5451
hardly be invested, in her sight, with a more sacred character than that
5452
in which you are always with her. I know that when she is clinging to
5453
you, the hands of baby, girl, and woman, all in one, are round your
5454
neck. I know that in loving you she sees and loves her mother at her
5455
own age, sees and loves you at my age, loves her mother broken-hearted,
5456
loves you through your dreadful trial and in your blessed restoration. I
5457
have known this, night and day, since I have known you in your home."
5458

5459
Her father sat silent, with his face bent down. His breathing was a
5460
little quickened; but he repressed all other signs of agitation.
5461

5462
"Dear Doctor Manette, always knowing this, always seeing her and you
5463
with this hallowed light about you, I have forborne, and forborne, as
5464
long as it was in the nature of man to do it. I have felt, and do even
5465
now feel, that to bring my love--even mine--between you, is to touch
5466
your history with something not quite so good as itself. But I love her.
5467
Heaven is my witness that I love her!"
5468

5469
"I believe it," answered her father, mournfully. "I have thought so
5470
before now. I believe it."
5471

5472
"But, do not believe," said Darnay, upon whose ear the mournful voice
5473
struck with a reproachful sound, "that if my fortune were so cast as
5474
that, being one day so happy as to make her my wife, I must at any time
5475
put any separation between her and you, I could or would breathe a
5476
word of what I now say. Besides that I should know it to be hopeless, I
5477
should know it to be a baseness. If I had any such possibility, even at
5478
a remote distance of years, harboured in my thoughts, and hidden in my
5479
heart--if it ever had been there--if it ever could be there--I could not
5480
now touch this honoured hand."
5481

5482
He laid his own upon it as he spoke.
5483

5484
"No, dear Doctor Manette. Like you, a voluntary exile from France; like
5485
you, driven from it by its distractions, oppressions, and miseries; like
5486
you, striving to live away from it by my own exertions, and trusting
5487
in a happier future; I look only to sharing your fortunes, sharing your
5488
life and home, and being faithful to you to the death. Not to divide
5489
with Lucie her privilege as your child, companion, and friend; but to
5490
come in aid of it, and bind her closer to you, if such a thing can be."
5491

5492
His touch still lingered on her father's hand. Answering the touch for a
5493
moment, but not coldly, her father rested his hands upon the arms of
5494
his chair, and looked up for the first time since the beginning of the
5495
conference. A struggle was evidently in his face; a struggle with that
5496
occasional look which had a tendency in it to dark doubt and dread.
5497

5498
"You speak so feelingly and so manfully, Charles Darnay, that I thank
5499
you with all my heart, and will open all my heart--or nearly so. Have
5500
you any reason to believe that Lucie loves you?"
5501

5502
"None. As yet, none."
5503

5504
"Is it the immediate object of this confidence, that you may at once
5505
ascertain that, with my knowledge?"
5506

5507
"Not even so. I might not have the hopefulness to do it for weeks; I
5508
might (mistaken or not mistaken) have that hopefulness to-morrow."
5509

5510
"Do you seek any guidance from me?"
5511

5512
"I ask none, sir. But I have thought it possible that you might have it
5513
in your power, if you should deem it right, to give me some."
5514

5515
"Do you seek any promise from me?"
5516

5517
"I do seek that."
5518

5519
"What is it?"
5520

5521
"I well understand that, without you, I could have no hope. I well
5522
understand that, even if Miss Manette held me at this moment in her
5523
innocent heart--do not think I have the presumption to assume so much--I
5524
could retain no place in it against her love for her father."
5525

5526
"If that be so, do you see what, on the other hand, is involved in it?"
5527

5528
"I understand equally well, that a word from her father in any suitor's
5529
favour, would outweigh herself and all the world. For which reason,
5530
Doctor Manette," said Darnay, modestly but firmly, "I would not ask that
5531
word, to save my life."
5532

5533
"I am sure of it. Charles Darnay, mysteries arise out of close love, as
5534
well as out of wide division; in the former case, they are subtle and
5535
delicate, and difficult to penetrate. My daughter Lucie is, in this one
5536
respect, such a mystery to me; I can make no guess at the state of her
5537
heart."
5538

5539
"May I ask, sir, if you think she is--" As he hesitated, her father
5540
supplied the rest.
5541

5542
"Is sought by any other suitor?"
5543

5544
"It is what I meant to say."
5545

5546
Her father considered a little before he answered:
5547

5548
"You have seen Mr. Carton here, yourself. Mr. Stryver is here too,
5549
occasionally. If it be at all, it can only be by one of these."
5550

5551
"Or both," said Darnay.
5552

5553
"I had not thought of both; I should not think either, likely. You want
5554
a promise from me. Tell me what it is."
5555

5556
"It is, that if Miss Manette should bring to you at any time, on her own
5557
part, such a confidence as I have ventured to lay before you, you will
5558
bear testimony to what I have said, and to your belief in it. I hope you
5559
may be able to think so well of me, as to urge no influence against
5560
me. I say nothing more of my stake in this; this is what I ask. The
5561
condition on which I ask it, and which you have an undoubted right to
5562
require, I will observe immediately."
5563

5564
"I give the promise," said the Doctor, "without any condition. I believe
5565
your object to be, purely and truthfully, as you have stated it. I
5566
believe your intention is to perpetuate, and not to weaken, the ties
5567
between me and my other and far dearer self. If she should ever tell me
5568
that you are essential to her perfect happiness, I will give her to you.
5569
If there were--Charles Darnay, if there were--"
5570

5571
The young man had taken his hand gratefully; their hands were joined as
5572
the Doctor spoke:
5573

5574
"--any fancies, any reasons, any apprehensions, anything whatsoever,
5575
new or old, against the man she really loved--the direct responsibility
5576
thereof not lying on his head--they should all be obliterated for her
5577
sake. She is everything to me; more to me than suffering, more to me
5578
than wrong, more to me--Well! This is idle talk."
5579

5580
So strange was the way in which he faded into silence, and so strange
5581
his fixed look when he had ceased to speak, that Darnay felt his own
5582
hand turn cold in the hand that slowly released and dropped it.
5583

5584
"You said something to me," said Doctor Manette, breaking into a smile.
5585
"What was it you said to me?"
5586

5587
He was at a loss how to answer, until he remembered having spoken of a
5588
condition. Relieved as his mind reverted to that, he answered:
5589

5590
"Your confidence in me ought to be returned with full confidence on my
5591
part. My present name, though but slightly changed from my mother's, is
5592
not, as you will remember, my own. I wish to tell you what that is, and
5593
why I am in England."
5594

5595
"Stop!" said the Doctor of Beauvais.
5596

5597
"I wish it, that I may the better deserve your confidence, and have no
5598
secret from you."
5599

5600
"Stop!"
5601

5602
For an instant, the Doctor even had his two hands at his ears; for
5603
another instant, even had his two hands laid on Darnay's lips.
5604

5605
"Tell me when I ask you, not now. If your suit should prosper, if Lucie
5606
should love you, you shall tell me on your marriage morning. Do you
5607
promise?"
5608

5609
"Willingly.
5610

5611
"Give me your hand. She will be home directly, and it is better she
5612
should not see us together to-night. Go! God bless you!"
5613

5614
It was dark when Charles Darnay left him, and it was an hour later and
5615
darker when Lucie came home; she hurried into the room alone--for
5616
Miss Pross had gone straight up-stairs--and was surprised to find his
5617
reading-chair empty.
5618

5619
"My father!" she called to him. "Father dear!"
5620

5621
Nothing was said in answer, but she heard a low hammering sound in his
5622
bedroom. Passing lightly across the intermediate room, she looked in at
5623
his door and came running back frightened, crying to herself, with her
5624
blood all chilled, "What shall I do! What shall I do!"
5625

5626
Her uncertainty lasted but a moment; she hurried back, and tapped at
5627
his door, and softly called to him. The noise ceased at the sound of
5628
her voice, and he presently came out to her, and they walked up and down
5629
together for a long time.
5630

5631
She came down from her bed, to look at him in his sleep that night. He
5632
slept heavily, and his tray of shoemaking tools, and his old unfinished
5633
work, were all as usual.
5634

5635

5636

5637

5638
XI. A Companion Picture
5639

5640

5641
"Sydney," said Mr. Stryver, on that self-same night, or morning, to his
5642
jackal; "mix another bowl of punch; I have something to say to you."
5643

5644
Sydney had been working double tides that night, and the night before,
5645
and the night before that, and a good many nights in succession, making
5646
a grand clearance among Mr. Stryver's papers before the setting in
5647
of the long vacation. The clearance was effected at last; the Stryver
5648
arrears were handsomely fetched up; everything was got rid of until
5649
November should come with its fogs atmospheric, and fogs legal, and
5650
bring grist to the mill again.
5651

5652
Sydney was none the livelier and none the soberer for so much
5653
application. It had taken a deal of extra wet-towelling to pull him
5654
through the night; a correspondingly extra quantity of wine had preceded
5655
the towelling; and he was in a very damaged condition, as he now pulled
5656
his turban off and threw it into the basin in which he had steeped it at
5657
intervals for the last six hours.
5658

5659
"Are you mixing that other bowl of punch?" said Stryver the portly, with
5660
his hands in his waistband, glancing round from the sofa where he lay on
5661
his back.
5662

5663
"I am."
5664

5665
"Now, look here! I am going to tell you something that will rather
5666
surprise you, and that perhaps will make you think me not quite as
5667
shrewd as you usually do think me. I intend to marry."
5668

5669
"_Do_ you?"
5670

5671
"Yes. And not for money. What do you say now?"
5672

5673
"I don't feel disposed to say much. Who is she?"
5674

5675
"Guess."
5676

5677
"Do I know her?"
5678

5679
"Guess."
5680

5681
"I am not going to guess, at five o'clock in the morning, with my brains
5682
frying and sputtering in my head. If you want me to guess, you must ask
5683
me to dinner."
5684

5685
"Well then, I'll tell you," said Stryver, coming slowly into a sitting
5686
posture. "Sydney, I rather despair of making myself intelligible to you,
5687
because you are such an insensible dog."
5688

5689
"And you," returned Sydney, busy concocting the punch, "are such a
5690
sensitive and poetical spirit--"
5691

5692
"Come!" rejoined Stryver, laughing boastfully, "though I don't prefer
5693
any claim to being the soul of Romance (for I hope I know better), still
5694
I am a tenderer sort of fellow than _you_."
5695

5696
"You are a luckier, if you mean that."
5697

5698
"I don't mean that. I mean I am a man of more--more--"
5699

5700
"Say gallantry, while you are about it," suggested Carton.
5701

5702
"Well! I'll say gallantry. My meaning is that I am a man," said Stryver,
5703
inflating himself at his friend as he made the punch, "who cares more to
5704
be agreeable, who takes more pains to be agreeable, who knows better how
5705
to be agreeable, in a woman's society, than you do."
5706

5707
"Go on," said Sydney Carton.
5708

5709
"No; but before I go on," said Stryver, shaking his head in his bullying
5710
way, "I'll have this out with you. You've been at Doctor Manette's house
5711
as much as I have, or more than I have. Why, I have been ashamed of your
5712
moroseness there! Your manners have been of that silent and sullen and
5713
hangdog kind, that, upon my life and soul, I have been ashamed of you,
5714
Sydney!"
5715

5716
"It should be very beneficial to a man in your practice at the bar, to
5717
be ashamed of anything," returned Sydney; "you ought to be much obliged
5718
to me."
5719

5720
"You shall not get off in that way," rejoined Stryver, shouldering the
5721
rejoinder at him; "no, Sydney, it's my duty to tell you--and I tell you
5722
to your face to do you good--that you are a devilish ill-conditioned
5723
fellow in that sort of society. You are a disagreeable fellow."
5724

5725
Sydney drank a bumper of the punch he had made, and laughed.
5726

5727
"Look at me!" said Stryver, squaring himself; "I have less need to make
5728
myself agreeable than you have, being more independent in circumstances.
5729
Why do I do it?"
5730

5731
"I never saw you do it yet," muttered Carton.
5732

5733
"I do it because it's politic; I do it on principle. And look at me! I
5734
get on."
5735

5736
"You don't get on with your account of your matrimonial intentions,"
5737
 answered Carton, with a careless air; "I wish you would keep to that. As
5738
to me--will you never understand that I am incorrigible?"
5739

5740
He asked the question with some appearance of scorn.
5741

5742
"You have no business to be incorrigible," was his friend's answer,
5743
delivered in no very soothing tone.
5744

5745
"I have no business to be, at all, that I know of," said Sydney Carton.
5746
"Who is the lady?"
5747

5748
"Now, don't let my announcement of the name make you uncomfortable,
5749
Sydney," said Mr. Stryver, preparing him with ostentatious friendliness
5750
for the disclosure he was about to make, "because I know you don't mean
5751
half you say; and if you meant it all, it would be of no importance. I
5752
make this little preface, because you once mentioned the young lady to
5753
me in slighting terms."
5754

5755
"I did?"
5756

5757
"Certainly; and in these chambers."
5758

5759
Sydney Carton looked at his punch and looked at his complacent friend;
5760
drank his punch and looked at his complacent friend.
5761

5762
"You made mention of the young lady as a golden-haired doll. The young
5763
lady is Miss Manette. If you had been a fellow of any sensitiveness or
5764
delicacy of feeling in that kind of way, Sydney, I might have been a
5765
little resentful of your employing such a designation; but you are not.
5766
You want that sense altogether; therefore I am no more annoyed when I
5767
think of the expression, than I should be annoyed by a man's opinion of
5768
a picture of mine, who had no eye for pictures: or of a piece of music
5769
of mine, who had no ear for music."
5770

5771
Sydney Carton drank the punch at a great rate; drank it by bumpers,
5772
looking at his friend.
5773

5774
"Now you know all about it, Syd," said Mr. Stryver. "I don't care about
5775
fortune: she is a charming creature, and I have made up my mind to
5776
please myself: on the whole, I think I can afford to please myself. She
5777
will have in me a man already pretty well off, and a rapidly rising man,
5778
and a man of some distinction: it is a piece of good fortune for her,
5779
but she is worthy of good fortune. Are you astonished?"
5780

5781
Carton, still drinking the punch, rejoined, "Why should I be
5782
astonished?"
5783

5784
"You approve?"
5785

5786
Carton, still drinking the punch, rejoined, "Why should I not approve?"
5787

5788
"Well!" said his friend Stryver, "you take it more easily than I fancied
5789
you would, and are less mercenary on my behalf than I thought you would
5790
be; though, to be sure, you know well enough by this time that your
5791
ancient chum is a man of a pretty strong will. Yes, Sydney, I have had
5792
enough of this style of life, with no other as a change from it; I
5793
feel that it is a pleasant thing for a man to have a home when he feels
5794
inclined to go to it (when he doesn't, he can stay away), and I feel
5795
that Miss Manette will tell well in any station, and will always do me
5796
credit. So I have made up my mind. And now, Sydney, old boy, I want to
5797
say a word to _you_ about _your_ prospects. You are in a bad way, you
5798
know; you really are in a bad way. You don't know the value of money,
5799
you live hard, you'll knock up one of these days, and be ill and poor;
5800
you really ought to think about a nurse."
5801

5802
The prosperous patronage with which he said it, made him look twice as
5803
big as he was, and four times as offensive.
5804

5805
"Now, let me recommend you," pursued Stryver, "to look it in the face.
5806
I have looked it in the face, in my different way; look it in the face,
5807
you, in your different way. Marry. Provide somebody to take care of
5808
you. Never mind your having no enjoyment of women's society, nor
5809
understanding of it, nor tact for it. Find out somebody. Find out some
5810
respectable woman with a little property--somebody in the landlady way,
5811
or lodging-letting way--and marry her, against a rainy day. That's the
5812
kind of thing for _you_. Now think of it, Sydney."
5813

5814
"I'll think of it," said Sydney.
5815

5816

5817

5818

5819
XII. The Fellow of Delicacy
5820

5821

5822
Mr. Stryver having made up his mind to that magnanimous bestowal of good
5823
fortune on the Doctor's daughter, resolved to make her happiness known
5824
to her before he left town for the Long Vacation. After some mental
5825
debating of the point, he came to the conclusion that it would be as
5826
well to get all the preliminaries done with, and they could then arrange
5827
at their leisure whether he should give her his hand a week or two
5828
before Michaelmas Term, or in the little Christmas vacation between it
5829
and Hilary.
5830

5831
As to the strength of his case, he had not a doubt about it, but clearly
5832
saw his way to the verdict. Argued with the jury on substantial worldly
5833
grounds--the only grounds ever worth taking into account--it was a
5834
plain case, and had not a weak spot in it. He called himself for the
5835
plaintiff, there was no getting over his evidence, the counsel for
5836
the defendant threw up his brief, and the jury did not even turn to
5837
consider. After trying it, Stryver, C. J., was satisfied that no plainer
5838
case could be.
5839

5840
Accordingly, Mr. Stryver inaugurated the Long Vacation with a formal
5841
proposal to take Miss Manette to Vauxhall Gardens; that failing, to
5842
Ranelagh; that unaccountably failing too, it behoved him to present
5843
himself in Soho, and there declare his noble mind.
5844

5845
Towards Soho, therefore, Mr. Stryver shouldered his way from the Temple,
5846
while the bloom of the Long Vacation's infancy was still upon it.
5847
Anybody who had seen him projecting himself into Soho while he was yet
5848
on Saint Dunstan's side of Temple Bar, bursting in his full-blown way
5849
along the pavement, to the jostlement of all weaker people, might have
5850
seen how safe and strong he was.
5851

5852
His way taking him past Tellson's, and he both banking at Tellson's and
5853
knowing Mr. Lorry as the intimate friend of the Manettes, it entered Mr.
5854
Stryver's mind to enter the bank, and reveal to Mr. Lorry the brightness
5855
of the Soho horizon. So, he pushed open the door with the weak rattle
5856
in its throat, stumbled down the two steps, got past the two ancient
5857
cashiers, and shouldered himself into the musty back closet where Mr.
5858
Lorry sat at great books ruled for figures, with perpendicular iron
5859
bars to his window as if that were ruled for figures too, and everything
5860
under the clouds were a sum.
5861

5862
"Halloa!" said Mr. Stryver. "How do you do? I hope you are well!"
5863

5864
It was Stryver's grand peculiarity that he always seemed too big for any
5865
place, or space. He was so much too big for Tellson's, that old clerks
5866
in distant corners looked up with looks of remonstrance, as though he
5867
squeezed them against the wall. The House itself, magnificently reading
5868
the paper quite in the far-off perspective, lowered displeased, as if
5869
the Stryver head had been butted into its responsible waistcoat.
5870

5871
The discreet Mr. Lorry said, in a sample tone of the voice he would
5872
recommend under the circumstances, "How do you do, Mr. Stryver? How do
5873
you do, sir?" and shook hands. There was a peculiarity in his manner
5874
of shaking hands, always to be seen in any clerk at Tellson's who shook
5875
hands with a customer when the House pervaded the air. He shook in a
5876
self-abnegating way, as one who shook for Tellson and Co.
5877

5878
"Can I do anything for you, Mr. Stryver?" asked Mr. Lorry, in his
5879
business character.
5880

5881
"Why, no, thank you; this is a private visit to yourself, Mr. Lorry; I
5882
have come for a private word."
5883

5884
"Oh indeed!" said Mr. Lorry, bending down his ear, while his eye strayed
5885
to the House afar off.
5886

5887
"I am going," said Mr. Stryver, leaning his arms confidentially on the
5888
desk: whereupon, although it was a large double one, there appeared to
5889
be not half desk enough for him: "I am going to make an offer of myself
5890
in marriage to your agreeable little friend, Miss Manette, Mr. Lorry."
5891

5892
"Oh dear me!" cried Mr. Lorry, rubbing his chin, and looking at his
5893
visitor dubiously.
5894

5895
"Oh dear me, sir?" repeated Stryver, drawing back. "Oh dear you, sir?
5896
What may your meaning be, Mr. Lorry?"
5897

5898
"My meaning," answered the man of business, "is, of course, friendly and
5899
appreciative, and that it does you the greatest credit, and--in short,
5900
my meaning is everything you could desire. But--really, you know, Mr.
5901
Stryver--" Mr. Lorry paused, and shook his head at him in the oddest
5902
manner, as if he were compelled against his will to add, internally,
5903
"you know there really is so much too much of you!"
5904

5905
"Well!" said Stryver, slapping the desk with his contentious hand,
5906
opening his eyes wider, and taking a long breath, "if I understand you,
5907
Mr. Lorry, I'll be hanged!"
5908

5909
Mr. Lorry adjusted his little wig at both ears as a means towards that
5910
end, and bit the feather of a pen.
5911

5912
"D--n it all, sir!" said Stryver, staring at him, "am I not eligible?"
5913

5914
"Oh dear yes! Yes. Oh yes, you're eligible!" said Mr. Lorry. "If you say
5915
eligible, you are eligible."
5916

5917
"Am I not prosperous?" asked Stryver.
5918

5919
"Oh! if you come to prosperous, you are prosperous," said Mr. Lorry.
5920

5921
"And advancing?"
5922

5923
"If you come to advancing you know," said Mr. Lorry, delighted to be
5924
able to make another admission, "nobody can doubt that."
5925

5926
"Then what on earth is your meaning, Mr. Lorry?" demanded Stryver,
5927
perceptibly crestfallen.
5928

5929
"Well! I--Were you going there now?" asked Mr. Lorry.
5930

5931
"Straight!" said Stryver, with a plump of his fist on the desk.
5932

5933
"Then I think I wouldn't, if I was you."
5934

5935
"Why?" said Stryver. "Now, I'll put you in a corner," forensically
5936
shaking a forefinger at him. "You are a man of business and bound to
5937
have a reason. State your reason. Why wouldn't you go?"
5938

5939
"Because," said Mr. Lorry, "I wouldn't go on such an object without
5940
having some cause to believe that I should succeed."
5941

5942
"D--n _me_!" cried Stryver, "but this beats everything."
5943

5944
Mr. Lorry glanced at the distant House, and glanced at the angry
5945
Stryver.
5946

5947
"Here's a man of business--a man of years--a man of experience--_in_
5948
a Bank," said Stryver; "and having summed up three leading reasons for
5949
complete success, he says there's no reason at all! Says it with his
5950
head on!" Mr. Stryver remarked upon the peculiarity as if it would have
5951
been infinitely less remarkable if he had said it with his head off.
5952

5953
"When I speak of success, I speak of success with the young lady; and
5954
when I speak of causes and reasons to make success probable, I speak of
5955
causes and reasons that will tell as such with the young lady. The young
5956
lady, my good sir," said Mr. Lorry, mildly tapping the Stryver arm, "the
5957
young lady. The young lady goes before all."
5958

5959
"Then you mean to tell me, Mr. Lorry," said Stryver, squaring his
5960
elbows, "that it is your deliberate opinion that the young lady at
5961
present in question is a mincing Fool?"
5962

5963
"Not exactly so. I mean to tell you, Mr. Stryver," said Mr. Lorry,
5964
reddening, "that I will hear no disrespectful word of that young lady
5965
from any lips; and that if I knew any man--which I hope I do not--whose
5966
taste was so coarse, and whose temper was so overbearing, that he could
5967
not restrain himself from speaking disrespectfully of that young lady at
5968
this desk, not even Tellson's should prevent my giving him a piece of my
5969
mind."
5970

5971
The necessity of being angry in a suppressed tone had put Mr. Stryver's
5972
blood-vessels into a dangerous state when it was his turn to be angry;
5973
Mr. Lorry's veins, methodical as their courses could usually be, were in
5974
no better state now it was his turn.
5975

5976
"That is what I mean to tell you, sir," said Mr. Lorry. "Pray let there
5977
be no mistake about it."
5978

5979
Mr. Stryver sucked the end of a ruler for a little while, and then stood
5980
hitting a tune out of his teeth with it, which probably gave him the
5981
toothache. He broke the awkward silence by saying:
5982

5983
"This is something new to me, Mr. Lorry. You deliberately advise me not
5984
to go up to Soho and offer myself--_my_self, Stryver of the King's Bench
5985
bar?"
5986

5987
"Do you ask me for my advice, Mr. Stryver?"
5988

5989
"Yes, I do."
5990

5991
"Very good. Then I give it, and you have repeated it correctly."
5992

5993
"And all I can say of it is," laughed Stryver with a vexed laugh, "that
5994
this--ha, ha!--beats everything past, present, and to come."
5995

5996
"Now understand me," pursued Mr. Lorry. "As a man of business, I am
5997
not justified in saying anything about this matter, for, as a man of
5998
business, I know nothing of it. But, as an old fellow, who has carried
5999
Miss Manette in his arms, who is the trusted friend of Miss Manette and
6000
of her father too, and who has a great affection for them both, I have
6001
spoken. The confidence is not of my seeking, recollect. Now, you think I
6002
may not be right?"
6003

6004
"Not I!" said Stryver, whistling. "I can't undertake to find third
6005
parties in common sense; I can only find it for myself. I suppose sense
6006
in certain quarters; you suppose mincing bread-and-butter nonsense. It's
6007
new to me, but you are right, I dare say."
6008

6009
"What I suppose, Mr. Stryver, I claim to characterise for myself--And
6010
understand me, sir," said Mr. Lorry, quickly flushing again, "I
6011
will not--not even at Tellson's--have it characterised for me by any
6012
gentleman breathing."
6013

6014
"There! I beg your pardon!" said Stryver.
6015

6016
"Granted. Thank you. Well, Mr. Stryver, I was about to say:--it might be
6017
painful to you to find yourself mistaken, it might be painful to Doctor
6018
Manette to have the task of being explicit with you, it might be very
6019
painful to Miss Manette to have the task of being explicit with you. You
6020
know the terms upon which I have the honour and happiness to stand with
6021
the family. If you please, committing you in no way, representing you
6022
in no way, I will undertake to correct my advice by the exercise of a
6023
little new observation and judgment expressly brought to bear upon
6024
it. If you should then be dissatisfied with it, you can but test its
6025
soundness for yourself; if, on the other hand, you should be satisfied
6026
with it, and it should be what it now is, it may spare all sides what is
6027
best spared. What do you say?"
6028

6029
"How long would you keep me in town?"
6030

6031
"Oh! It is only a question of a few hours. I could go to Soho in the
6032
evening, and come to your chambers afterwards."
6033

6034
"Then I say yes," said Stryver: "I won't go up there now, I am not so
6035
hot upon it as that comes to; I say yes, and I shall expect you to look
6036
in to-night. Good morning."
6037

6038
Then Mr. Stryver turned and burst out of the Bank, causing such a
6039
concussion of air on his passage through, that to stand up against it
6040
bowing behind the two counters, required the utmost remaining strength
6041
of the two ancient clerks. Those venerable and feeble persons were
6042
always seen by the public in the act of bowing, and were popularly
6043
believed, when they had bowed a customer out, still to keep on bowing in
6044
the empty office until they bowed another customer in.
6045

6046
The barrister was keen enough to divine that the banker would not have
6047
gone so far in his expression of opinion on any less solid ground than
6048
moral certainty. Unprepared as he was for the large pill he had to
6049
swallow, he got it down. "And now," said Mr. Stryver, shaking his
6050
forensic forefinger at the Temple in general, when it was down, "my way
6051
out of this, is, to put you all in the wrong."
6052

6053
It was a bit of the art of an Old Bailey tactician, in which he found
6054
great relief. "You shall not put me in the wrong, young lady," said Mr.
6055
Stryver; "I'll do that for you."
6056

6057
Accordingly, when Mr. Lorry called that night as late as ten o'clock,
6058
Mr. Stryver, among a quantity of books and papers littered out for the
6059
purpose, seemed to have nothing less on his mind than the subject of
6060
the morning. He even showed surprise when he saw Mr. Lorry, and was
6061
altogether in an absent and preoccupied state.
6062

6063
"Well!" said that good-natured emissary, after a full half-hour of
6064
bootless attempts to bring him round to the question. "I have been to
6065
Soho."
6066

6067
"To Soho?" repeated Mr. Stryver, coldly. "Oh, to be sure! What am I
6068
thinking of!"
6069

6070
"And I have no doubt," said Mr. Lorry, "that I was right in the
6071
conversation we had. My opinion is confirmed, and I reiterate my
6072
advice."
6073

6074
"I assure you," returned Mr. Stryver, in the friendliest way, "that I
6075
am sorry for it on your account, and sorry for it on the poor father's
6076
account. I know this must always be a sore subject with the family; let
6077
us say no more about it."
6078

6079
"I don't understand you," said Mr. Lorry.
6080

6081
"I dare say not," rejoined Stryver, nodding his head in a smoothing and
6082
final way; "no matter, no matter."
6083

6084
"But it does matter," Mr. Lorry urged.
6085

6086
"No it doesn't; I assure you it doesn't. Having supposed that there was
6087
sense where there is no sense, and a laudable ambition where there is
6088
not a laudable ambition, I am well out of my mistake, and no harm is
6089
done. Young women have committed similar follies often before, and have
6090
repented them in poverty and obscurity often before. In an unselfish
6091
aspect, I am sorry that the thing is dropped, because it would have been
6092
a bad thing for me in a worldly point of view; in a selfish aspect, I am
6093
glad that the thing has dropped, because it would have been a bad thing
6094
for me in a worldly point of view--it is hardly necessary to say I could
6095
have gained nothing by it. There is no harm at all done. I have not
6096
proposed to the young lady, and, between ourselves, I am by no means
6097
certain, on reflection, that I ever should have committed myself to
6098
that extent. Mr. Lorry, you cannot control the mincing vanities and
6099
giddinesses of empty-headed girls; you must not expect to do it, or you
6100
will always be disappointed. Now, pray say no more about it. I tell you,
6101
I regret it on account of others, but I am satisfied on my own account.
6102
And I am really very much obliged to you for allowing me to sound you,
6103
and for giving me your advice; you know the young lady better than I do;
6104
you were right, it never would have done."
6105

6106
Mr. Lorry was so taken aback, that he looked quite stupidly at Mr.
6107
Stryver shouldering him towards the door, with an appearance of
6108
showering generosity, forbearance, and goodwill, on his erring head.
6109
"Make the best of it, my dear sir," said Stryver; "say no more about it;
6110
thank you again for allowing me to sound you; good night!"
6111

6112
Mr. Lorry was out in the night, before he knew where he was. Mr. Stryver
6113
was lying back on his sofa, winking at his ceiling.
6114

6115

6116

6117

6118
XIII. The Fellow of No Delicacy
6119

6120

6121
If Sydney Carton ever shone anywhere, he certainly never shone in the
6122
house of Doctor Manette. He had been there often, during a whole year,
6123
and had always been the same moody and morose lounger there. When he
6124
cared to talk, he talked well; but, the cloud of caring for nothing,
6125
which overshadowed him with such a fatal darkness, was very rarely
6126
pierced by the light within him.
6127

6128
And yet he did care something for the streets that environed that house,
6129
and for the senseless stones that made their pavements. Many a night
6130
he vaguely and unhappily wandered there, when wine had brought no
6131
transitory gladness to him; many a dreary daybreak revealed his solitary
6132
figure lingering there, and still lingering there when the first beams
6133
of the sun brought into strong relief, removed beauties of architecture
6134
in spires of churches and lofty buildings, as perhaps the quiet time
6135
brought some sense of better things, else forgotten and unattainable,
6136
into his mind. Of late, the neglected bed in the Temple Court had known
6137
him more scantily than ever; and often when he had thrown himself upon
6138
it no longer than a few minutes, he had got up again, and haunted that
6139
neighbourhood.
6140

6141
On a day in August, when Mr. Stryver (after notifying to his jackal
6142
that "he had thought better of that marrying matter") had carried his
6143
delicacy into Devonshire, and when the sight and scent of flowers in the
6144
City streets had some waifs of goodness in them for the worst, of health
6145
for the sickliest, and of youth for the oldest, Sydney's feet still trod
6146
those stones. From being irresolute and purposeless, his feet became
6147
animated by an intention, and, in the working out of that intention,
6148
they took him to the Doctor's door.
6149

6150
He was shown up-stairs, and found Lucie at her work, alone. She had
6151
never been quite at her ease with him, and received him with some little
6152
embarrassment as he seated himself near her table. But, looking up at
6153
his face in the interchange of the first few common-places, she observed
6154
a change in it.
6155

6156
"I fear you are not well, Mr. Carton!"
6157

6158
"No. But the life I lead, Miss Manette, is not conducive to health. What
6159
is to be expected of, or by, such profligates?"
6160

6161
"Is it not--forgive me; I have begun the question on my lips--a pity to
6162
live no better life?"
6163

6164
"God knows it is a shame!"
6165

6166
"Then why not change it?"
6167

6168
Looking gently at him again, she was surprised and saddened to see that
6169
there were tears in his eyes. There were tears in his voice too, as he
6170
answered:
6171

6172
"It is too late for that. I shall never be better than I am. I shall
6173
sink lower, and be worse."
6174

6175
He leaned an elbow on her table, and covered his eyes with his hand. The
6176
table trembled in the silence that followed.
6177

6178
She had never seen him softened, and was much distressed. He knew her to
6179
be so, without looking at her, and said:
6180

6181
"Pray forgive me, Miss Manette. I break down before the knowledge of
6182
what I want to say to you. Will you hear me?"
6183

6184
"If it will do you any good, Mr. Carton, if it would make you happier,
6185
it would make me very glad!"
6186

6187
"God bless you for your sweet compassion!"
6188

6189
He unshaded his face after a little while, and spoke steadily.
6190

6191
"Don't be afraid to hear me. Don't shrink from anything I say. I am like
6192
one who died young. All my life might have been."
6193

6194
"No, Mr. Carton. I am sure that the best part of it might still be; I am
6195
sure that you might be much, much worthier of yourself."
6196

6197
"Say of you, Miss Manette, and although I know better--although in the
6198
mystery of my own wretched heart I know better--I shall never forget
6199
it!"
6200

6201
She was pale and trembling. He came to her relief with a fixed despair
6202
of himself which made the interview unlike any other that could have
6203
been holden.
6204

6205
"If it had been possible, Miss Manette, that you could have returned the
6206
love of the man you see before yourself--flung away, wasted, drunken,
6207
poor creature of misuse as you know him to be--he would have been
6208
conscious this day and hour, in spite of his happiness, that he would
6209
bring you to misery, bring you to sorrow and repentance, blight you,
6210
disgrace you, pull you down with him. I know very well that you can have
6211
no tenderness for me; I ask for none; I am even thankful that it cannot
6212
be."
6213

6214
"Without it, can I not save you, Mr. Carton? Can I not recall
6215
you--forgive me again!--to a better course? Can I in no way repay your
6216
confidence? I know this is a confidence," she modestly said, after a
6217
little hesitation, and in earnest tears, "I know you would say this to
6218
no one else. Can I turn it to no good account for yourself, Mr. Carton?"
6219

6220
He shook his head.
6221

6222
"To none. No, Miss Manette, to none. If you will hear me through a very
6223
little more, all you can ever do for me is done. I wish you to know that
6224
you have been the last dream of my soul. In my degradation I have not
6225
been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of this
6226
home made such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I thought had
6227
died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that
6228
I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from
6229
old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent for ever. I
6230
have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off
6231
sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all
6232
a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down,
6233
but I wish you to know that you inspired it."
6234

6235
"Will nothing of it remain? O Mr. Carton, think again! Try again!"
6236

6237
"No, Miss Manette; all through it, I have known myself to be quite
6238
undeserving. And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the
6239
weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me,
6240
heap of ashes that I am, into fire--a fire, however, inseparable in
6241
its nature from myself, quickening nothing, lighting nothing, doing no
6242
service, idly burning away."
6243

6244
"Since it is my misfortune, Mr. Carton, to have made you more unhappy
6245
than you were before you knew me--"
6246

6247
"Don't say that, Miss Manette, for you would have reclaimed me, if
6248
anything could. You will not be the cause of my becoming worse."
6249

6250
"Since the state of your mind that you describe, is, at all events,
6251
attributable to some influence of mine--this is what I mean, if I can
6252
make it plain--can I use no influence to serve you? Have I no power for
6253
good, with you, at all?"
6254

6255
"The utmost good that I am capable of now, Miss Manette, I have come
6256
here to realise. Let me carry through the rest of my misdirected life,
6257
the remembrance that I opened my heart to you, last of all the world;
6258
and that there was something left in me at this time which you could
6259
deplore and pity."
6260

6261
"Which I entreated you to believe, again and again, most fervently, with
6262
all my heart, was capable of better things, Mr. Carton!"
6263

6264
"Entreat me to believe it no more, Miss Manette. I have proved myself,
6265
and I know better. I distress you; I draw fast to an end. Will you let
6266
me believe, when I recall this day, that the last confidence of my life
6267
was reposed in your pure and innocent breast, and that it lies there
6268
alone, and will be shared by no one?"
6269

6270
"If that will be a consolation to you, yes."
6271

6272
"Not even by the dearest one ever to be known to you?"
6273

6274
"Mr. Carton," she answered, after an agitated pause, "the secret is
6275
yours, not mine; and I promise to respect it."
6276

6277
"Thank you. And again, God bless you."
6278

6279
He put her hand to his lips, and moved towards the door.
6280

6281
"Be under no apprehension, Miss Manette, of my ever resuming this
6282
conversation by so much as a passing word. I will never refer to it
6283
again. If I were dead, that could not be surer than it is henceforth. In
6284
the hour of my death, I shall hold sacred the one good remembrance--and
6285
shall thank and bless you for it--that my last avowal of myself was made
6286
to you, and that my name, and faults, and miseries were gently carried
6287
in your heart. May it otherwise be light and happy!"
6288

6289
He was so unlike what he had ever shown himself to be, and it was so
6290
sad to think how much he had thrown away, and how much he every day kept
6291
down and perverted, that Lucie Manette wept mournfully for him as he
6292
stood looking back at her.
6293

6294
"Be comforted!" he said, "I am not worth such feeling, Miss Manette. An
6295
hour or two hence, and the low companions and low habits that I scorn
6296
but yield to, will render me less worth such tears as those, than any
6297
wretch who creeps along the streets. Be comforted! But, within myself, I
6298
shall always be, towards you, what I am now, though outwardly I shall be
6299
what you have heretofore seen me. The last supplication but one I make
6300
to you, is, that you will believe this of me."
6301

6302
"I will, Mr. Carton."
6303

6304
"My last supplication of all, is this; and with it, I will relieve
6305
you of a visitor with whom I well know you have nothing in unison, and
6306
between whom and you there is an impassable space. It is useless to say
6307
it, I know, but it rises out of my soul. For you, and for any dear to
6308
you, I would do anything. If my career were of that better kind that
6309
there was any opportunity or capacity of sacrifice in it, I would
6310
embrace any sacrifice for you and for those dear to you. Try to hold
6311
me in your mind, at some quiet times, as ardent and sincere in this one
6312
thing. The time will come, the time will not be long in coming, when new
6313
ties will be formed about you--ties that will bind you yet more tenderly
6314
and strongly to the home you so adorn--the dearest ties that will ever
6315
grace and gladden you. O Miss Manette, when the little picture of a
6316
happy father's face looks up in yours, when you see your own bright
6317
beauty springing up anew at your feet, think now and then that there is
6318
a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you!"
6319

6320
He said, "Farewell!" said a last "God bless you!" and left her.
6321

6322

6323

6324

6325
XIV. The Honest Tradesman
6326

6327

6328
To the eyes of Mr. Jeremiah Cruncher, sitting on his stool in
6329
Fleet-street with his grisly urchin beside him, a vast number and
6330
variety of objects in movement were every day presented. Who could sit
6331
upon anything in Fleet-street during the busy hours of the day, and
6332
not be dazed and deafened by two immense processions, one ever tending
6333
westward with the sun, the other ever tending eastward from the sun,
6334
both ever tending to the plains beyond the range of red and purple where
6335
the sun goes down!
6336

6337
With his straw in his mouth, Mr. Cruncher sat watching the two streams,
6338
like the heathen rustic who has for several centuries been on duty
6339
watching one stream--saving that Jerry had no expectation of their ever
6340
running dry. Nor would it have been an expectation of a hopeful kind,
6341
since a small part of his income was derived from the pilotage of timid
6342
women (mostly of a full habit and past the middle term of life) from
6343
Tellson's side of the tides to the opposite shore. Brief as such
6344
companionship was in every separate instance, Mr. Cruncher never failed
6345
to become so interested in the lady as to express a strong desire to
6346
have the honour of drinking her very good health. And it was from
6347
the gifts bestowed upon him towards the execution of this benevolent
6348
purpose, that he recruited his finances, as just now observed.
6349

6350
Time was, when a poet sat upon a stool in a public place, and mused in
6351
the sight of men. Mr. Cruncher, sitting on a stool in a public place,
6352
but not being a poet, mused as little as possible, and looked about him.
6353

6354
It fell out that he was thus engaged in a season when crowds were
6355
few, and belated women few, and when his affairs in general were so
6356
unprosperous as to awaken a strong suspicion in his breast that Mrs.
6357
Cruncher must have been "flopping" in some pointed manner, when an
6358
unusual concourse pouring down Fleet-street westward, attracted his
6359
attention. Looking that way, Mr. Cruncher made out that some kind of
6360
funeral was coming along, and that there was popular objection to this
6361
funeral, which engendered uproar.
6362

6363
"Young Jerry," said Mr. Cruncher, turning to his offspring, "it's a
6364
buryin'."
6365

6366
"Hooroar, father!" cried Young Jerry.
6367

6368
The young gentleman uttered this exultant sound with mysterious
6369
significance. The elder gentleman took the cry so ill, that he watched
6370
his opportunity, and smote the young gentleman on the ear.
6371

6372
"What d'ye mean? What are you hooroaring at? What do you want to conwey
6373
to your own father, you young Rip? This boy is a getting too many for
6374
_me_!" said Mr. Cruncher, surveying him. "Him and his hooroars! Don't
6375
let me hear no more of you, or you shall feel some more of me. D'ye
6376
hear?"
6377

6378
"I warn't doing no harm," Young Jerry protested, rubbing his cheek.
6379

6380
"Drop it then," said Mr. Cruncher; "I won't have none of _your_ no
6381
harms. Get a top of that there seat, and look at the crowd."
6382

6383
His son obeyed, and the crowd approached; they were bawling and hissing
6384
round a dingy hearse and dingy mourning coach, in which mourning coach
6385
there was only one mourner, dressed in the dingy trappings that were
6386
considered essential to the dignity of the position. The position
6387
appeared by no means to please him, however, with an increasing rabble
6388
surrounding the coach, deriding him, making grimaces at him, and
6389
incessantly groaning and calling out: "Yah! Spies! Tst! Yaha! Spies!"
6390
 with many compliments too numerous and forcible to repeat.
6391

6392
Funerals had at all times a remarkable attraction for Mr. Cruncher; he
6393
always pricked up his senses, and became excited, when a funeral passed
6394
Tellson's. Naturally, therefore, a funeral with this uncommon attendance
6395
excited him greatly, and he asked of the first man who ran against him:
6396

6397
"What is it, brother? What's it about?"
6398

6399
"_I_ don't know," said the man. "Spies! Yaha! Tst! Spies!"
6400

6401
He asked another man. "Who is it?"
6402

6403
"_I_ don't know," returned the man, clapping his hands to his mouth
6404
nevertheless, and vociferating in a surprising heat and with the
6405
greatest ardour, "Spies! Yaha! Tst, tst! Spi--ies!"
6406

6407
At length, a person better informed on the merits of the case, tumbled
6408
against him, and from this person he learned that the funeral was the
6409
funeral of one Roger Cly.
6410

6411
"Was he a spy?" asked Mr. Cruncher.
6412

6413
"Old Bailey spy," returned his informant. "Yaha! Tst! Yah! Old Bailey
6414
Spi--i--ies!"
6415

6416
"Why, to be sure!" exclaimed Jerry, recalling the Trial at which he had
6417
assisted. "I've seen him. Dead, is he?"
6418

6419
"Dead as mutton," returned the other, "and can't be too dead. Have 'em
6420
out, there! Spies! Pull 'em out, there! Spies!"
6421

6422
The idea was so acceptable in the prevalent absence of any idea,
6423
that the crowd caught it up with eagerness, and loudly repeating the
6424
suggestion to have 'em out, and to pull 'em out, mobbed the two vehicles
6425
so closely that they came to a stop. On the crowd's opening the coach
6426
doors, the one mourner scuffled out by himself and was in their hands
6427
for a moment; but he was so alert, and made such good use of his time,
6428
that in another moment he was scouring away up a bye-street, after
6429
shedding his cloak, hat, long hatband, white pocket-handkerchief, and
6430
other symbolical tears.
6431

6432
These, the people tore to pieces and scattered far and wide with great
6433
enjoyment, while the tradesmen hurriedly shut up their shops; for a
6434
crowd in those times stopped at nothing, and was a monster much dreaded.
6435
They had already got the length of opening the hearse to take the coffin
6436
out, when some brighter genius proposed instead, its being escorted to
6437
its destination amidst general rejoicing. Practical suggestions being
6438
much needed, this suggestion, too, was received with acclamation, and
6439
the coach was immediately filled with eight inside and a dozen out,
6440
while as many people got on the roof of the hearse as could by any
6441
exercise of ingenuity stick upon it. Among the first of these volunteers
6442
was Jerry Cruncher himself, who modestly concealed his spiky head from
6443
the observation of Tellson's, in the further corner of the mourning
6444
coach.
6445

6446
The officiating undertakers made some protest against these changes in
6447
the ceremonies; but, the river being alarmingly near, and several voices
6448
remarking on the efficacy of cold immersion in bringing refractory
6449
members of the profession to reason, the protest was faint and brief.
6450
The remodelled procession started, with a chimney-sweep driving the
6451
hearse--advised by the regular driver, who was perched beside him, under
6452
close inspection, for the purpose--and with a pieman, also attended
6453
by his cabinet minister, driving the mourning coach. A bear-leader, a
6454
popular street character of the time, was impressed as an additional
6455
ornament, before the cavalcade had gone far down the Strand; and his
6456
bear, who was black and very mangy, gave quite an Undertaking air to
6457
that part of the procession in which he walked.
6458

6459
Thus, with beer-drinking, pipe-smoking, song-roaring, and infinite
6460
caricaturing of woe, the disorderly procession went its way, recruiting
6461
at every step, and all the shops shutting up before it. Its destination
6462
was the old church of Saint Pancras, far off in the fields. It got there
6463
in course of time; insisted on pouring into the burial-ground; finally,
6464
accomplished the interment of the deceased Roger Cly in its own way, and
6465
highly to its own satisfaction.
6466

6467
The dead man disposed of, and the crowd being under the necessity of
6468
providing some other entertainment for itself, another brighter
6469
genius (or perhaps the same) conceived the humour of impeaching casual
6470
passers-by, as Old Bailey spies, and wreaking vengeance on them. Chase
6471
was given to some scores of inoffensive persons who had never been near
6472
the Old Bailey in their lives, in the realisation of this fancy, and
6473
they were roughly hustled and maltreated. The transition to the sport of
6474
window-breaking, and thence to the plundering of public-houses, was easy
6475
and natural. At last, after several hours, when sundry summer-houses had
6476
been pulled down, and some area-railings had been torn up, to arm
6477
the more belligerent spirits, a rumour got about that the Guards were
6478
coming. Before this rumour, the crowd gradually melted away, and perhaps
6479
the Guards came, and perhaps they never came, and this was the usual
6480
progress of a mob.
6481

6482
Mr. Cruncher did not assist at the closing sports, but had remained
6483
behind in the churchyard, to confer and condole with the undertakers.
6484
The place had a soothing influence on him. He procured a pipe from a
6485
neighbouring public-house, and smoked it, looking in at the railings and
6486
maturely considering the spot.
6487

6488
"Jerry," said Mr. Cruncher, apostrophising himself in his usual way,
6489
"you see that there Cly that day, and you see with your own eyes that he
6490
was a young 'un and a straight made 'un."
6491

6492
Having smoked his pipe out, and ruminated a little longer, he turned
6493
himself about, that he might appear, before the hour of closing, on his
6494
station at Tellson's. Whether his meditations on mortality had touched
6495
his liver, or whether his general health had been previously at all
6496
amiss, or whether he desired to show a little attention to an eminent
6497
man, is not so much to the purpose, as that he made a short call upon
6498
his medical adviser--a distinguished surgeon--on his way back.
6499

6500
Young Jerry relieved his father with dutiful interest, and reported No
6501
job in his absence. The bank closed, the ancient clerks came out, the
6502
usual watch was set, and Mr. Cruncher and his son went home to tea.
6503

6504
"Now, I tell you where it is!" said Mr. Cruncher to his wife, on
6505
entering. "If, as a honest tradesman, my wenturs goes wrong to-night, I
6506
shall make sure that you've been praying again me, and I shall work you
6507
for it just the same as if I seen you do it."
6508

6509
The dejected Mrs. Cruncher shook her head.
6510

6511
"Why, you're at it afore my face!" said Mr. Cruncher, with signs of
6512
angry apprehension.
6513

6514
"I am saying nothing."
6515

6516
"Well, then; don't meditate nothing. You might as well flop as meditate.
6517
You may as well go again me one way as another. Drop it altogether."
6518

6519
"Yes, Jerry."
6520

6521
"Yes, Jerry," repeated Mr. Cruncher sitting down to tea. "Ah! It _is_
6522
yes, Jerry. That's about it. You may say yes, Jerry."
6523

6524
Mr. Cruncher had no particular meaning in these sulky corroborations,
6525
but made use of them, as people not unfrequently do, to express general
6526
ironical dissatisfaction.
6527

6528
"You and your yes, Jerry," said Mr. Cruncher, taking a bite out of his
6529
bread-and-butter, and seeming to help it down with a large invisible
6530
oyster out of his saucer. "Ah! I think so. I believe you."
6531

6532
"You are going out to-night?" asked his decent wife, when he took
6533
another bite.
6534

6535
"Yes, I am."
6536

6537
"May I go with you, father?" asked his son, briskly.
6538

6539
"No, you mayn't. I'm a going--as your mother knows--a fishing. That's
6540
where I'm going to. Going a fishing."
6541

6542
"Your fishing-rod gets rayther rusty; don't it, father?"
6543

6544
"Never you mind."
6545

6546
"Shall you bring any fish home, father?"
6547

6548
"If I don't, you'll have short commons, to-morrow," returned that
6549
gentleman, shaking his head; "that's questions enough for you; I ain't a
6550
going out, till you've been long abed."
6551

6552
He devoted himself during the remainder of the evening to keeping a
6553
most vigilant watch on Mrs. Cruncher, and sullenly holding her in
6554
conversation that she might be prevented from meditating any petitions
6555
to his disadvantage. With this view, he urged his son to hold her in
6556
conversation also, and led the unfortunate woman a hard life by dwelling
6557
on any causes of complaint he could bring against her, rather than
6558
he would leave her for a moment to her own reflections. The devoutest
6559
person could have rendered no greater homage to the efficacy of an
6560
honest prayer than he did in this distrust of his wife. It was as if a
6561
professed unbeliever in ghosts should be frightened by a ghost story.
6562

6563
"And mind you!" said Mr. Cruncher. "No games to-morrow! If I, as a
6564
honest tradesman, succeed in providing a jinte of meat or two, none
6565
of your not touching of it, and sticking to bread. If I, as a honest
6566
tradesman, am able to provide a little beer, none of your declaring
6567
on water. When you go to Rome, do as Rome does. Rome will be a ugly
6568
customer to you, if you don't. _I_'m your Rome, you know."
6569

6570
Then he began grumbling again:
6571

6572
"With your flying into the face of your own wittles and drink! I don't
6573
know how scarce you mayn't make the wittles and drink here, by your
6574
flopping tricks and your unfeeling conduct. Look at your boy: he _is_
6575
your'n, ain't he? He's as thin as a lath. Do you call yourself a mother,
6576
and not know that a mother's first duty is to blow her boy out?"
6577

6578
This touched Young Jerry on a tender place; who adjured his mother to
6579
perform her first duty, and, whatever else she did or neglected, above
6580
all things to lay especial stress on the discharge of that maternal
6581
function so affectingly and delicately indicated by his other parent.
6582

6583
Thus the evening wore away with the Cruncher family, until Young Jerry
6584
was ordered to bed, and his mother, laid under similar injunctions,
6585
obeyed them. Mr. Cruncher beguiled the earlier watches of the night with
6586
solitary pipes, and did not start upon his excursion until nearly one
6587
o'clock. Towards that small and ghostly hour, he rose up from his chair,
6588
took a key out of his pocket, opened a locked cupboard, and brought
6589
forth a sack, a crowbar of convenient size, a rope and chain, and other
6590
fishing tackle of that nature. Disposing these articles about him
6591
in skilful manner, he bestowed a parting defiance on Mrs. Cruncher,
6592
extinguished the light, and went out.
6593

6594
Young Jerry, who had only made a feint of undressing when he went to
6595
bed, was not long after his father. Under cover of the darkness he
6596
followed out of the room, followed down the stairs, followed down the
6597
court, followed out into the streets. He was in no uneasiness concerning
6598
his getting into the house again, for it was full of lodgers, and the
6599
door stood ajar all night.
6600

6601
Impelled by a laudable ambition to study the art and mystery of his
6602
father's honest calling, Young Jerry, keeping as close to house fronts,
6603
walls, and doorways, as his eyes were close to one another, held his
6604
honoured parent in view. The honoured parent steering Northward, had not
6605
gone far, when he was joined by another disciple of Izaak Walton, and
6606
the two trudged on together.
6607

6608
Within half an hour from the first starting, they were beyond the
6609
winking lamps, and the more than winking watchmen, and were out upon a
6610
lonely road. Another fisherman was picked up here--and that so silently,
6611
that if Young Jerry had been superstitious, he might have supposed the
6612
second follower of the gentle craft to have, all of a sudden, split
6613
himself into two.
6614

6615
The three went on, and Young Jerry went on, until the three stopped
6616
under a bank overhanging the road. Upon the top of the bank was a low
6617
brick wall, surmounted by an iron railing. In the shadow of bank and
6618
wall the three turned out of the road, and up a blind lane, of which
6619
the wall--there, risen to some eight or ten feet high--formed one side.
6620
Crouching down in a corner, peeping up the lane, the next object that
6621
Young Jerry saw, was the form of his honoured parent, pretty well
6622
defined against a watery and clouded moon, nimbly scaling an iron gate.
6623
He was soon over, and then the second fisherman got over, and then the
6624
third. They all dropped softly on the ground within the gate, and lay
6625
there a little--listening perhaps. Then, they moved away on their hands
6626
and knees.
6627

6628
It was now Young Jerry's turn to approach the gate: which he did,
6629
holding his breath. Crouching down again in a corner there, and looking
6630
in, he made out the three fishermen creeping through some rank grass!
6631
and all the gravestones in the churchyard--it was a large churchyard
6632
that they were in--looking on like ghosts in white, while the church
6633
tower itself looked on like the ghost of a monstrous giant. They did not
6634
creep far, before they stopped and stood upright. And then they began to
6635
fish.
6636

6637
They fished with a spade, at first. Presently the honoured parent
6638
appeared to be adjusting some instrument like a great corkscrew.
6639
Whatever tools they worked with, they worked hard, until the awful
6640
striking of the church clock so terrified Young Jerry, that he made off,
6641
with his hair as stiff as his father's.
6642

6643
But, his long-cherished desire to know more about these matters, not
6644
only stopped him in his running away, but lured him back again. They
6645
were still fishing perseveringly, when he peeped in at the gate for
6646
the second time; but, now they seemed to have got a bite. There was a
6647
screwing and complaining sound down below, and their bent figures were
6648
strained, as if by a weight. By slow degrees the weight broke away the
6649
earth upon it, and came to the surface. Young Jerry very well knew what
6650
it would be; but, when he saw it, and saw his honoured parent about to
6651
wrench it open, he was so frightened, being new to the sight, that he
6652
made off again, and never stopped until he had run a mile or more.
6653

6654
He would not have stopped then, for anything less necessary than breath,
6655
it being a spectral sort of race that he ran, and one highly desirable
6656
to get to the end of. He had a strong idea that the coffin he had seen
6657
was running after him; and, pictured as hopping on behind him, bolt
6658
upright, upon its narrow end, always on the point of overtaking him
6659
and hopping on at his side--perhaps taking his arm--it was a pursuer to
6660
shun. It was an inconsistent and ubiquitous fiend too, for, while it
6661
was making the whole night behind him dreadful, he darted out into the
6662
roadway to avoid dark alleys, fearful of its coming hopping out of them
6663
like a dropsical boy's kite without tail and wings. It hid in doorways
6664
too, rubbing its horrible shoulders against doors, and drawing them up
6665
to its ears, as if it were laughing. It got into shadows on the road,
6666
and lay cunningly on its back to trip him up. All this time it was
6667
incessantly hopping on behind and gaining on him, so that when the boy
6668
got to his own door he had reason for being half dead. And even then
6669
it would not leave him, but followed him upstairs with a bump on every
6670
stair, scrambled into bed with him, and bumped down, dead and heavy, on
6671
his breast when he fell asleep.
6672

6673
From his oppressed slumber, Young Jerry in his closet was awakened after
6674
daybreak and before sunrise, by the presence of his father in the
6675
family room. Something had gone wrong with him; at least, so Young Jerry
6676
inferred, from the circumstance of his holding Mrs. Cruncher by the
6677
ears, and knocking the back of her head against the head-board of the
6678
bed.
6679

6680
"I told you I would," said Mr. Cruncher, "and I did."
6681

6682
"Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!" his wife implored.
6683

6684
"You oppose yourself to the profit of the business," said Jerry, "and me
6685
and my partners suffer. You was to honour and obey; why the devil don't
6686
you?"
6687

6688
"I try to be a good wife, Jerry," the poor woman protested, with tears.
6689

6690
"Is it being a good wife to oppose your husband's business? Is it
6691
honouring your husband to dishonour his business? Is it obeying your
6692
husband to disobey him on the wital subject of his business?"
6693

6694
"You hadn't taken to the dreadful business then, Jerry."
6695

6696
"It's enough for you," retorted Mr. Cruncher, "to be the wife of a
6697
honest tradesman, and not to occupy your female mind with calculations
6698
when he took to his trade or when he didn't. A honouring and obeying
6699
wife would let his trade alone altogether. Call yourself a religious
6700
woman? If you're a religious woman, give me a irreligious one! You have
6701
no more nat'ral sense of duty than the bed of this here Thames river has
6702
of a pile, and similarly it must be knocked into you."
6703

6704
The altercation was conducted in a low tone of voice, and terminated in
6705
the honest tradesman's kicking off his clay-soiled boots, and lying down
6706
at his length on the floor. After taking a timid peep at him lying on
6707
his back, with his rusty hands under his head for a pillow, his son lay
6708
down too, and fell asleep again.
6709

6710
There was no fish for breakfast, and not much of anything else. Mr.
6711
Cruncher was out of spirits, and out of temper, and kept an iron pot-lid
6712
by him as a projectile for the correction of Mrs. Cruncher, in case
6713
he should observe any symptoms of her saying Grace. He was brushed
6714
and washed at the usual hour, and set off with his son to pursue his
6715
ostensible calling.
6716

6717
Young Jerry, walking with the stool under his arm at his father's side
6718
along sunny and crowded Fleet-street, was a very different Young Jerry
6719
from him of the previous night, running home through darkness and
6720
solitude from his grim pursuer. His cunning was fresh with the day,
6721
and his qualms were gone with the night--in which particulars it is not
6722
improbable that he had compeers in Fleet-street and the City of London,
6723
that fine morning.
6724

6725
"Father," said Young Jerry, as they walked along: taking care to keep
6726
at arm's length and to have the stool well between them: "what's a
6727
Resurrection-Man?"
6728

6729
Mr. Cruncher came to a stop on the pavement before he answered, "How
6730
should I know?"
6731

6732
"I thought you knowed everything, father," said the artless boy.
6733

6734
"Hem! Well," returned Mr. Cruncher, going on again, and lifting off his
6735
hat to give his spikes free play, "he's a tradesman."
6736

6737
"What's his goods, father?" asked the brisk Young Jerry.
6738

6739
"His goods," said Mr. Cruncher, after turning it over in his mind, "is a
6740
branch of Scientific goods."
6741

6742
"Persons' bodies, ain't it, father?" asked the lively boy.
6743

6744
"I believe it is something of that sort," said Mr. Cruncher.
6745

6746
"Oh, father, I should so like to be a Resurrection-Man when I'm quite
6747
growed up!"
6748

6749
Mr. Cruncher was soothed, but shook his head in a dubious and moral way.
6750
"It depends upon how you dewelop your talents. Be careful to dewelop
6751
your talents, and never to say no more than you can help to nobody, and
6752
there's no telling at the present time what you may not come to be fit
6753
for." As Young Jerry, thus encouraged, went on a few yards in advance,
6754
to plant the stool in the shadow of the Bar, Mr. Cruncher added to
6755
himself: "Jerry, you honest tradesman, there's hopes wot that boy will
6756
yet be a blessing to you, and a recompense to you for his mother!"
6757

6758

6759

6760

6761
XV. Knitting
6762

6763

6764
There had been earlier drinking than usual in the wine-shop of Monsieur
6765
Defarge. As early as six o'clock in the morning, sallow faces peeping
6766
through its barred windows had descried other faces within, bending over
6767
measures of wine. Monsieur Defarge sold a very thin wine at the best
6768
of times, but it would seem to have been an unusually thin wine that
6769
he sold at this time. A sour wine, moreover, or a souring, for its
6770
influence on the mood of those who drank it was to make them gloomy. No
6771
vivacious Bacchanalian flame leaped out of the pressed grape of Monsieur
6772
Defarge: but, a smouldering fire that burnt in the dark, lay hidden in
6773
the dregs of it.
6774

6775
This had been the third morning in succession, on which there had been
6776
early drinking at the wine-shop of Monsieur Defarge. It had begun
6777
on Monday, and here was Wednesday come. There had been more of early
6778
brooding than drinking; for, many men had listened and whispered and
6779
slunk about there from the time of the opening of the door, who could
6780
not have laid a piece of money on the counter to save their souls. These
6781
were to the full as interested in the place, however, as if they could
6782
have commanded whole barrels of wine; and they glided from seat to seat,
6783
and from corner to corner, swallowing talk in lieu of drink, with greedy
6784
looks.
6785

6786
Notwithstanding an unusual flow of company, the master of the wine-shop
6787
was not visible. He was not missed; for, nobody who crossed the
6788
threshold looked for him, nobody asked for him, nobody wondered to see
6789
only Madame Defarge in her seat, presiding over the distribution of
6790
wine, with a bowl of battered small coins before her, as much defaced
6791
and beaten out of their original impress as the small coinage of
6792
humanity from whose ragged pockets they had come.
6793

6794
A suspended interest and a prevalent absence of mind, were perhaps
6795
observed by the spies who looked in at the wine-shop, as they looked in
6796
at every place, high and low, from the king's palace to the criminal's
6797
gaol. Games at cards languished, players at dominoes musingly built
6798
towers with them, drinkers drew figures on the tables with spilt drops
6799
of wine, Madame Defarge herself picked out the pattern on her sleeve
6800
with her toothpick, and saw and heard something inaudible and invisible
6801
a long way off.
6802

6803
Thus, Saint Antoine in this vinous feature of his, until midday. It was
6804
high noontide, when two dusty men passed through his streets and under
6805
his swinging lamps: of whom, one was Monsieur Defarge: the other a
6806
mender of roads in a blue cap. All adust and athirst, the two entered
6807
the wine-shop. Their arrival had lighted a kind of fire in the breast
6808
of Saint Antoine, fast spreading as they came along, which stirred and
6809
flickered in flames of faces at most doors and windows. Yet, no one had
6810
followed them, and no man spoke when they entered the wine-shop, though
6811
the eyes of every man there were turned upon them.
6812

6813
"Good day, gentlemen!" said Monsieur Defarge.
6814

6815
It may have been a signal for loosening the general tongue. It elicited
6816
an answering chorus of "Good day!"
6817

6818
"It is bad weather, gentlemen," said Defarge, shaking his head.
6819

6820
Upon which, every man looked at his neighbour, and then all cast down
6821
their eyes and sat silent. Except one man, who got up and went out.
6822

6823
"My wife," said Defarge aloud, addressing Madame Defarge: "I have
6824
travelled certain leagues with this good mender of roads, called
6825
Jacques. I met him--by accident--a day and half's journey out of Paris.
6826
He is a good child, this mender of roads, called Jacques. Give him to
6827
drink, my wife!"
6828

6829
A second man got up and went out. Madame Defarge set wine before the
6830
mender of roads called Jacques, who doffed his blue cap to the company,
6831
and drank. In the breast of his blouse he carried some coarse dark
6832
bread; he ate of this between whiles, and sat munching and drinking near
6833
Madame Defarge's counter. A third man got up and went out.
6834

6835
Defarge refreshed himself with a draught of wine--but, he took less
6836
than was given to the stranger, as being himself a man to whom it was no
6837
rarity--and stood waiting until the countryman had made his breakfast.
6838
He looked at no one present, and no one now looked at him; not even
6839
Madame Defarge, who had taken up her knitting, and was at work.
6840

6841
"Have you finished your repast, friend?" he asked, in due season.
6842

6843
"Yes, thank you."
6844

6845
"Come, then! You shall see the apartment that I told you you could
6846
occupy. It will suit you to a marvel."
6847

6848
Out of the wine-shop into the street, out of the street into a
6849
courtyard, out of the courtyard up a steep staircase, out of the
6850
staircase into a garret--formerly the garret where a white-haired man
6851
sat on a low bench, stooping forward and very busy, making shoes.
6852

6853
No white-haired man was there now; but, the three men were there who had
6854
gone out of the wine-shop singly. And between them and the white-haired
6855
man afar off, was the one small link, that they had once looked in at
6856
him through the chinks in the wall.
6857

6858
Defarge closed the door carefully, and spoke in a subdued voice:
6859

6860
"Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques Three! This is the witness
6861
encountered by appointment, by me, Jacques Four. He will tell you all.
6862
Speak, Jacques Five!"
6863

6864
The mender of roads, blue cap in hand, wiped his swarthy forehead with
6865
it, and said, "Where shall I commence, monsieur?"
6866

6867
"Commence," was Monsieur Defarge's not unreasonable reply, "at the
6868
commencement."
6869

6870
"I saw him then, messieurs," began the mender of roads, "a year ago this
6871
running summer, underneath the carriage of the Marquis, hanging by the
6872
chain. Behold the manner of it. I leaving my work on the road, the sun
6873
going to bed, the carriage of the Marquis slowly ascending the hill, he
6874
hanging by the chain--like this."
6875

6876
Again the mender of roads went through the whole performance; in which
6877
he ought to have been perfect by that time, seeing that it had been
6878
the infallible resource and indispensable entertainment of his village
6879
during a whole year.
6880

6881
Jacques One struck in, and asked if he had ever seen the man before?
6882

6883
"Never," answered the mender of roads, recovering his perpendicular.
6884

6885
Jacques Three demanded how he afterwards recognised him then?
6886

6887
"By his tall figure," said the mender of roads, softly, and with his
6888
finger at his nose. "When Monsieur the Marquis demands that evening,
6889
'Say, what is he like?' I make response, 'Tall as a spectre.'"
6890

6891
"You should have said, short as a dwarf," returned Jacques Two.
6892

6893
"But what did I know? The deed was not then accomplished, neither did he
6894
confide in me. Observe! Under those circumstances even, I do not
6895
offer my testimony. Monsieur the Marquis indicates me with his finger,
6896
standing near our little fountain, and says, 'To me! Bring that rascal!'
6897
My faith, messieurs, I offer nothing."
6898

6899
"He is right there, Jacques," murmured Defarge, to him who had
6900
interrupted. "Go on!"
6901

6902
"Good!" said the mender of roads, with an air of mystery. "The tall man
6903
is lost, and he is sought--how many months? Nine, ten, eleven?"
6904

6905
"No matter, the number," said Defarge. "He is well hidden, but at last
6906
he is unluckily found. Go on!"
6907

6908
"I am again at work upon the hill-side, and the sun is again about to
6909
go to bed. I am collecting my tools to descend to my cottage down in the
6910
village below, where it is already dark, when I raise my eyes, and see
6911
coming over the hill six soldiers. In the midst of them is a tall man
6912
with his arms bound--tied to his sides--like this!"
6913

6914
With the aid of his indispensable cap, he represented a man with his
6915
elbows bound fast at his hips, with cords that were knotted behind him.
6916

6917
"I stand aside, messieurs, by my heap of stones, to see the soldiers
6918
and their prisoner pass (for it is a solitary road, that, where any
6919
spectacle is well worth looking at), and at first, as they approach, I
6920
see no more than that they are six soldiers with a tall man bound, and
6921
that they are almost black to my sight--except on the side of the sun
6922
going to bed, where they have a red edge, messieurs. Also, I see that
6923
their long shadows are on the hollow ridge on the opposite side of the
6924
road, and are on the hill above it, and are like the shadows of giants.
6925
Also, I see that they are covered with dust, and that the dust moves
6926
with them as they come, tramp, tramp! But when they advance quite near
6927
to me, I recognise the tall man, and he recognises me. Ah, but he would
6928
be well content to precipitate himself over the hill-side once again, as
6929
on the evening when he and I first encountered, close to the same spot!"
6930

6931
He described it as if he were there, and it was evident that he saw it
6932
vividly; perhaps he had not seen much in his life.
6933

6934
"I do not show the soldiers that I recognise the tall man; he does not
6935
show the soldiers that he recognises me; we do it, and we know it, with
6936
our eyes. 'Come on!' says the chief of that company, pointing to the
6937
village, 'bring him fast to his tomb!' and they bring him faster. I
6938
follow. His arms are swelled because of being bound so tight, his wooden
6939
shoes are large and clumsy, and he is lame. Because he is lame, and
6940
consequently slow, they drive him with their guns--like this!"
6941

6942
He imitated the action of a man's being impelled forward by the
6943
butt-ends of muskets.
6944

6945
"As they descend the hill like madmen running a race, he falls. They
6946
laugh and pick him up again. His face is bleeding and covered with dust,
6947
but he cannot touch it; thereupon they laugh again. They bring him into
6948
the village; all the village runs to look; they take him past the mill,
6949
and up to the prison; all the village sees the prison gate open in the
6950
darkness of the night, and swallow him--like this!"
6951

6952
He opened his mouth as wide as he could, and shut it with a sounding
6953
snap of his teeth. Observant of his unwillingness to mar the effect by
6954
opening it again, Defarge said, "Go on, Jacques."
6955

6956
"All the village," pursued the mender of roads, on tiptoe and in a low
6957
voice, "withdraws; all the village whispers by the fountain; all the
6958
village sleeps; all the village dreams of that unhappy one, within the
6959
locks and bars of the prison on the crag, and never to come out of it,
6960
except to perish. In the morning, with my tools upon my shoulder, eating
6961
my morsel of black bread as I go, I make a circuit by the prison, on
6962
my way to my work. There I see him, high up, behind the bars of a lofty
6963
iron cage, bloody and dusty as last night, looking through. He has no
6964
hand free, to wave to me; I dare not call to him; he regards me like a
6965
dead man."
6966

6967
Defarge and the three glanced darkly at one another. The looks of all
6968
of them were dark, repressed, and revengeful, as they listened to the
6969
countryman's story; the manner of all of them, while it was secret, was
6970
authoritative too. They had the air of a rough tribunal; Jacques One
6971
and Two sitting on the old pallet-bed, each with his chin resting on
6972
his hand, and his eyes intent on the road-mender; Jacques Three, equally
6973
intent, on one knee behind them, with his agitated hand always gliding
6974
over the network of fine nerves about his mouth and nose; Defarge
6975
standing between them and the narrator, whom he had stationed in the
6976
light of the window, by turns looking from him to them, and from them to
6977
him.
6978

6979
"Go on, Jacques," said Defarge.
6980

6981
"He remains up there in his iron cage some days. The village looks
6982
at him by stealth, for it is afraid. But it always looks up, from a
6983
distance, at the prison on the crag; and in the evening, when the work
6984
of the day is achieved and it assembles to gossip at the fountain, all
6985
faces are turned towards the prison. Formerly, they were turned towards
6986
the posting-house; now, they are turned towards the prison. They
6987
whisper at the fountain, that although condemned to death he will not be
6988
executed; they say that petitions have been presented in Paris, showing
6989
that he was enraged and made mad by the death of his child; they say
6990
that a petition has been presented to the King himself. What do I know?
6991
It is possible. Perhaps yes, perhaps no."
6992

6993
"Listen then, Jacques," Number One of that name sternly interposed.
6994
"Know that a petition was presented to the King and Queen. All here,
6995
yourself excepted, saw the King take it, in his carriage in the street,
6996
sitting beside the Queen. It is Defarge whom you see here, who, at the
6997
hazard of his life, darted out before the horses, with the petition in
6998
his hand."
6999

7000
"And once again listen, Jacques!" said the kneeling Number Three:
7001
his fingers ever wandering over and over those fine nerves, with a
7002
strikingly greedy air, as if he hungered for something--that was neither
7003
food nor drink; "the guard, horse and foot, surrounded the petitioner,
7004
and struck him blows. You hear?"
7005

7006
"I hear, messieurs."
7007

7008
"Go on then," said Defarge.
7009

7010
"Again; on the other hand, they whisper at the fountain," resumed the
7011
countryman, "that he is brought down into our country to be executed on
7012
the spot, and that he will very certainly be executed. They even whisper
7013
that because he has slain Monseigneur, and because Monseigneur was the
7014
father of his tenants--serfs--what you will--he will be executed as a
7015
parricide. One old man says at the fountain, that his right hand, armed
7016
with the knife, will be burnt off before his face; that, into wounds
7017
which will be made in his arms, his breast, and his legs, there will be
7018
poured boiling oil, melted lead, hot resin, wax, and sulphur; finally,
7019
that he will be torn limb from limb by four strong horses. That old man
7020
says, all this was actually done to a prisoner who made an attempt on
7021
the life of the late King, Louis Fifteen. But how do I know if he lies?
7022
I am not a scholar."
7023

7024
"Listen once again then, Jacques!" said the man with the restless hand
7025
and the craving air. "The name of that prisoner was Damiens, and it was
7026
all done in open day, in the open streets of this city of Paris; and
7027
nothing was more noticed in the vast concourse that saw it done, than
7028
the crowd of ladies of quality and fashion, who were full of eager
7029
attention to the last--to the last, Jacques, prolonged until nightfall,
7030
when he had lost two legs and an arm, and still breathed! And it was
7031
done--why, how old are you?"
7032

7033
"Thirty-five," said the mender of roads, who looked sixty.
7034

7035
"It was done when you were more than ten years old; you might have seen
7036
it."
7037

7038
"Enough!" said Defarge, with grim impatience. "Long live the Devil! Go
7039
on."
7040

7041
"Well! Some whisper this, some whisper that; they speak of nothing else;
7042
even the fountain appears to fall to that tune. At length, on Sunday
7043
night when all the village is asleep, come soldiers, winding down from
7044
the prison, and their guns ring on the stones of the little street.
7045
Workmen dig, workmen hammer, soldiers laugh and sing; in the morning, by
7046
the fountain, there is raised a gallows forty feet high, poisoning the
7047
water."
7048

7049
The mender of roads looked _through_ rather than _at_ the low ceiling,
7050
and pointed as if he saw the gallows somewhere in the sky.
7051

7052
"All work is stopped, all assemble there, nobody leads the cows out,
7053
the cows are there with the rest. At midday, the roll of drums. Soldiers
7054
have marched into the prison in the night, and he is in the midst
7055
of many soldiers. He is bound as before, and in his mouth there is
7056
a gag--tied so, with a tight string, making him look almost as if he
7057
laughed." He suggested it, by creasing his face with his two thumbs,
7058
from the corners of his mouth to his ears. "On the top of the gallows is
7059
fixed the knife, blade upwards, with its point in the air. He is hanged
7060
there forty feet high--and is left hanging, poisoning the water."
7061

7062
They looked at one another, as he used his blue cap to wipe his face,
7063
on which the perspiration had started afresh while he recalled the
7064
spectacle.
7065

7066
"It is frightful, messieurs. How can the women and the children draw
7067
water! Who can gossip of an evening, under that shadow! Under it, have
7068
I said? When I left the village, Monday evening as the sun was going to
7069
bed, and looked back from the hill, the shadow struck across the church,
7070
across the mill, across the prison--seemed to strike across the earth,
7071
messieurs, to where the sky rests upon it!"
7072

7073
The hungry man gnawed one of his fingers as he looked at the other
7074
three, and his finger quivered with the craving that was on him.
7075

7076
"That's all, messieurs. I left at sunset (as I had been warned to do),
7077
and I walked on, that night and half next day, until I met (as I was
7078
warned I should) this comrade. With him, I came on, now riding and now
7079
walking, through the rest of yesterday and through last night. And here
7080
you see me!"
7081

7082
After a gloomy silence, the first Jacques said, "Good! You have acted
7083
and recounted faithfully. Will you wait for us a little, outside the
7084
door?"
7085

7086
"Very willingly," said the mender of roads. Whom Defarge escorted to the
7087
top of the stairs, and, leaving seated there, returned.
7088

7089
The three had risen, and their heads were together when he came back to
7090
the garret.
7091

7092
"How say you, Jacques?" demanded Number One. "To be registered?"
7093

7094
"To be registered, as doomed to destruction," returned Defarge.
7095

7096
"Magnificent!" croaked the man with the craving.
7097

7098
"The chateau, and all the race?" inquired the first.
7099

7100
"The chateau and all the race," returned Defarge. "Extermination."
7101

7102
The hungry man repeated, in a rapturous croak, "Magnificent!" and began
7103
gnawing another finger.
7104

7105
"Are you sure," asked Jacques Two, of Defarge, "that no embarrassment
7106
can arise from our manner of keeping the register? Without doubt it is
7107
safe, for no one beyond ourselves can decipher it; but shall we always
7108
be able to decipher it--or, I ought to say, will she?"
7109

7110
"Jacques," returned Defarge, drawing himself up, "if madame my wife
7111
undertook to keep the register in her memory alone, she would not lose
7112
a word of it--not a syllable of it. Knitted, in her own stitches and her
7113
own symbols, it will always be as plain to her as the sun. Confide in
7114
Madame Defarge. It would be easier for the weakest poltroon that lives,
7115
to erase himself from existence, than to erase one letter of his name or
7116
crimes from the knitted register of Madame Defarge."
7117

7118
There was a murmur of confidence and approval, and then the man who
7119
hungered, asked: "Is this rustic to be sent back soon? I hope so. He is
7120
very simple; is he not a little dangerous?"
7121

7122
"He knows nothing," said Defarge; "at least nothing more than would
7123
easily elevate himself to a gallows of the same height. I charge myself
7124
with him; let him remain with me; I will take care of him, and set him
7125
on his road. He wishes to see the fine world--the King, the Queen, and
7126
Court; let him see them on Sunday."
7127

7128
"What?" exclaimed the hungry man, staring. "Is it a good sign, that he
7129
wishes to see Royalty and Nobility?"
7130

7131
"Jacques," said Defarge; "judiciously show a cat milk, if you wish her
7132
to thirst for it. Judiciously show a dog his natural prey, if you wish
7133
him to bring it down one day."
7134

7135
Nothing more was said, and the mender of roads, being found already
7136
dozing on the topmost stair, was advised to lay himself down on the
7137
pallet-bed and take some rest. He needed no persuasion, and was soon
7138
asleep.
7139

7140
Worse quarters than Defarge's wine-shop, could easily have been found
7141
in Paris for a provincial slave of that degree. Saving for a mysterious
7142
dread of madame by which he was constantly haunted, his life was very
7143
new and agreeable. But, madame sat all day at her counter, so expressly
7144
unconscious of him, and so particularly determined not to perceive that
7145
his being there had any connection with anything below the surface, that
7146
he shook in his wooden shoes whenever his eye lighted on her. For, he
7147
contended with himself that it was impossible to foresee what that lady
7148
might pretend next; and he felt assured that if she should take it
7149
into her brightly ornamented head to pretend that she had seen him do a
7150
murder and afterwards flay the victim, she would infallibly go through
7151
with it until the play was played out.
7152

7153
Therefore, when Sunday came, the mender of roads was not enchanted
7154
(though he said he was) to find that madame was to accompany monsieur
7155
and himself to Versailles. It was additionally disconcerting to have
7156
madame knitting all the way there, in a public conveyance; it was
7157
additionally disconcerting yet, to have madame in the crowd in the
7158
afternoon, still with her knitting in her hands as the crowd waited to
7159
see the carriage of the King and Queen.
7160

7161
"You work hard, madame," said a man near her.
7162

7163
"Yes," answered Madame Defarge; "I have a good deal to do."
7164

7165
"What do you make, madame?"
7166

7167
"Many things."
7168

7169
"For instance--"
7170

7171
"For instance," returned Madame Defarge, composedly, "shrouds."
7172

7173
The man moved a little further away, as soon as he could, and the mender
7174
of roads fanned himself with his blue cap: feeling it mightily close
7175
and oppressive. If he needed a King and Queen to restore him, he was
7176
fortunate in having his remedy at hand; for, soon the large-faced King
7177
and the fair-faced Queen came in their golden coach, attended by the
7178
shining Bull's Eye of their Court, a glittering multitude of laughing
7179
ladies and fine lords; and in jewels and silks and powder and splendour
7180
and elegantly spurning figures and handsomely disdainful faces of both
7181
sexes, the mender of roads bathed himself, so much to his temporary
7182
intoxication, that he cried Long live the King, Long live the Queen,
7183
Long live everybody and everything! as if he had never heard of
7184
ubiquitous Jacques in his time. Then, there were gardens, courtyards,
7185
terraces, fountains, green banks, more King and Queen, more Bull's Eye,
7186
more lords and ladies, more Long live they all! until he absolutely wept
7187
with sentiment. During the whole of this scene, which lasted some three
7188
hours, he had plenty of shouting and weeping and sentimental company,
7189
and throughout Defarge held him by the collar, as if to restrain him
7190
from flying at the objects of his brief devotion and tearing them to
7191
pieces.
7192

7193
"Bravo!" said Defarge, clapping him on the back when it was over, like a
7194
patron; "you are a good boy!"
7195

7196
The mender of roads was now coming to himself, and was mistrustful of
7197
having made a mistake in his late demonstrations; but no.
7198

7199
"You are the fellow we want," said Defarge, in his ear; "you make
7200
these fools believe that it will last for ever. Then, they are the more
7201
insolent, and it is the nearer ended."
7202

7203
"Hey!" cried the mender of roads, reflectively; "that's true."
7204

7205
"These fools know nothing. While they despise your breath, and would
7206
stop it for ever and ever, in you or in a hundred like you rather than
7207
in one of their own horses or dogs, they only know what your breath
7208
tells them. Let it deceive them, then, a little longer; it cannot
7209
deceive them too much."
7210

7211
Madame Defarge looked superciliously at the client, and nodded in
7212
confirmation.
7213

7214
"As to you," said she, "you would shout and shed tears for anything, if
7215
it made a show and a noise. Say! Would you not?"
7216

7217
"Truly, madame, I think so. For the moment."
7218

7219
"If you were shown a great heap of dolls, and were set upon them to
7220
pluck them to pieces and despoil them for your own advantage, you would
7221
pick out the richest and gayest. Say! Would you not?"
7222

7223
"Truly yes, madame."
7224

7225
"Yes. And if you were shown a flock of birds, unable to fly, and were
7226
set upon them to strip them of their feathers for your own advantage,
7227
you would set upon the birds of the finest feathers; would you not?"
7228

7229
"It is true, madame."
7230

7231
"You have seen both dolls and birds to-day," said Madame Defarge, with
7232
a wave of her hand towards the place where they had last been apparent;
7233
"now, go home!"
7234

7235

7236

7237

7238
XVI. Still Knitting
7239

7240

7241
Madame Defarge and monsieur her husband returned amicably to the
7242
bosom of Saint Antoine, while a speck in a blue cap toiled through the
7243
darkness, and through the dust, and down the weary miles of avenue by
7244
the wayside, slowly tending towards that point of the compass where
7245
the chateau of Monsieur the Marquis, now in his grave, listened to
7246
the whispering trees. Such ample leisure had the stone faces, now,
7247
for listening to the trees and to the fountain, that the few village
7248
scarecrows who, in their quest for herbs to eat and fragments of dead
7249
stick to burn, strayed within sight of the great stone courtyard and
7250
terrace staircase, had it borne in upon their starved fancy that
7251
the expression of the faces was altered. A rumour just lived in the
7252
village--had a faint and bare existence there, as its people had--that
7253
when the knife struck home, the faces changed, from faces of pride to
7254
faces of anger and pain; also, that when that dangling figure was hauled
7255
up forty feet above the fountain, they changed again, and bore a cruel
7256
look of being avenged, which they would henceforth bear for ever. In the
7257
stone face over the great window of the bed-chamber where the murder
7258
was done, two fine dints were pointed out in the sculptured nose, which
7259
everybody recognised, and which nobody had seen of old; and on the
7260
scarce occasions when two or three ragged peasants emerged from the
7261
crowd to take a hurried peep at Monsieur the Marquis petrified, a
7262
skinny finger would not have pointed to it for a minute, before they all
7263
started away among the moss and leaves, like the more fortunate hares
7264
who could find a living there.
7265

7266
Chateau and hut, stone face and dangling figure, the red stain on the
7267
stone floor, and the pure water in the village well--thousands of acres
7268
of land--a whole province of France--all France itself--lay under the
7269
night sky, concentrated into a faint hair-breadth line. So does a whole
7270
world, with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling
7271
star. And as mere human knowledge can split a ray of light and analyse
7272
the manner of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in
7273
the feeble shining of this earth of ours, every thought and act, every
7274
vice and virtue, of every responsible creature on it.
7275

7276
The Defarges, husband and wife, came lumbering under the starlight,
7277
in their public vehicle, to that gate of Paris whereunto their
7278
journey naturally tended. There was the usual stoppage at the barrier
7279
guardhouse, and the usual lanterns came glancing forth for the usual
7280
examination and inquiry. Monsieur Defarge alighted; knowing one or two
7281
of the soldiery there, and one of the police. The latter he was intimate
7282
with, and affectionately embraced.
7283

7284
When Saint Antoine had again enfolded the Defarges in his dusky wings,
7285
and they, having finally alighted near the Saint's boundaries, were
7286
picking their way on foot through the black mud and offal of his
7287
streets, Madame Defarge spoke to her husband:
7288

7289
"Say then, my friend; what did Jacques of the police tell thee?"
7290

7291
"Very little to-night, but all he knows. There is another spy
7292
commissioned for our quarter. There may be many more, for all that he
7293
can say, but he knows of one."
7294

7295
"Eh well!" said Madame Defarge, raising her eyebrows with a cool
7296
business air. "It is necessary to register him. How do they call that
7297
man?"
7298

7299
"He is English."
7300

7301
"So much the better. His name?"
7302

7303
"Barsad," said Defarge, making it French by pronunciation. But, he had
7304
been so careful to get it accurately, that he then spelt it with perfect
7305
correctness.
7306

7307
"Barsad," repeated madame. "Good. Christian name?"
7308

7309
"John."
7310

7311
"John Barsad," repeated madame, after murmuring it once to herself.
7312
"Good. His appearance; is it known?"
7313

7314
"Age, about forty years; height, about five feet nine; black hair;
7315
complexion dark; generally, rather handsome visage; eyes dark, face
7316
thin, long, and sallow; nose aquiline, but not straight, having a
7317
peculiar inclination towards the left cheek; expression, therefore,
7318
sinister."
7319

7320
"Eh my faith. It is a portrait!" said madame, laughing. "He shall be
7321
registered to-morrow."
7322

7323
They turned into the wine-shop, which was closed (for it was midnight),
7324
and where Madame Defarge immediately took her post at her desk, counted
7325
the small moneys that had been taken during her absence, examined the
7326
stock, went through the entries in the book, made other entries of
7327
her own, checked the serving man in every possible way, and finally
7328
dismissed him to bed. Then she turned out the contents of the bowl
7329
of money for the second time, and began knotting them up in her
7330
handkerchief, in a chain of separate knots, for safe keeping through the
7331
night. All this while, Defarge, with his pipe in his mouth, walked
7332
up and down, complacently admiring, but never interfering; in which
7333
condition, indeed, as to the business and his domestic affairs, he
7334
walked up and down through life.
7335

7336
The night was hot, and the shop, close shut and surrounded by so foul a
7337
neighbourhood, was ill-smelling. Monsieur Defarge's olfactory sense was
7338
by no means delicate, but the stock of wine smelt much stronger than
7339
it ever tasted, and so did the stock of rum and brandy and aniseed. He
7340
whiffed the compound of scents away, as he put down his smoked-out pipe.
7341

7342
"You are fatigued," said madame, raising her glance as she knotted the
7343
money. "There are only the usual odours."
7344

7345
"I am a little tired," her husband acknowledged.
7346

7347
"You are a little depressed, too," said madame, whose quick eyes had
7348
never been so intent on the accounts, but they had had a ray or two for
7349
him. "Oh, the men, the men!"
7350

7351
"But my dear!" began Defarge.
7352

7353
"But my dear!" repeated madame, nodding firmly; "but my dear! You are
7354
faint of heart to-night, my dear!"
7355

7356
"Well, then," said Defarge, as if a thought were wrung out of his
7357
breast, "it _is_ a long time."
7358

7359
"It is a long time," repeated his wife; "and when is it not a long time?
7360
Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule."
7361

7362
"It does not take a long time to strike a man with Lightning," said
7363
Defarge.
7364

7365
"How long," demanded madame, composedly, "does it take to make and store
7366
the lightning? Tell me."
7367

7368
Defarge raised his head thoughtfully, as if there were something in that
7369
too.
7370

7371
"It does not take a long time," said madame, "for an earthquake to
7372
swallow a town. Eh well! Tell me how long it takes to prepare the
7373
earthquake?"
7374

7375
"A long time, I suppose," said Defarge.
7376

7377
"But when it is ready, it takes place, and grinds to pieces everything
7378
before it. In the meantime, it is always preparing, though it is not
7379
seen or heard. That is your consolation. Keep it."
7380

7381
She tied a knot with flashing eyes, as if it throttled a foe.
7382

7383
"I tell thee," said madame, extending her right hand, for emphasis,
7384
"that although it is a long time on the road, it is on the road and
7385
coming. I tell thee it never retreats, and never stops. I tell thee it
7386
is always advancing. Look around and consider the lives of all the world
7387
that we know, consider the faces of all the world that we know, consider
7388
the rage and discontent to which the Jacquerie addresses itself with
7389
more and more of certainty every hour. Can such things last? Bah! I mock
7390
you."
7391

7392
"My brave wife," returned Defarge, standing before her with his head
7393
a little bent, and his hands clasped at his back, like a docile and
7394
attentive pupil before his catechist, "I do not question all this. But
7395
it has lasted a long time, and it is possible--you know well, my wife,
7396
it is possible--that it may not come, during our lives."
7397

7398
"Eh well! How then?" demanded madame, tying another knot, as if there
7399
were another enemy strangled.
7400

7401
"Well!" said Defarge, with a half complaining and half apologetic shrug.
7402
"We shall not see the triumph."
7403

7404
"We shall have helped it," returned madame, with her extended hand in
7405
strong action. "Nothing that we do, is done in vain. I believe, with all
7406
my soul, that we shall see the triumph. But even if not, even if I knew
7407
certainly not, show me the neck of an aristocrat and tyrant, and still I
7408
would--"
7409

7410
Then madame, with her teeth set, tied a very terrible knot indeed.
7411

7412
"Hold!" cried Defarge, reddening a little as if he felt charged with
7413
cowardice; "I too, my dear, will stop at nothing."
7414

7415
"Yes! But it is your weakness that you sometimes need to see your victim
7416
and your opportunity, to sustain you. Sustain yourself without that.
7417
When the time comes, let loose a tiger and a devil; but wait for the
7418
time with the tiger and the devil chained--not shown--yet always ready."
7419

7420
Madame enforced the conclusion of this piece of advice by striking her
7421
little counter with her chain of money as if she knocked its brains
7422
out, and then gathering the heavy handkerchief under her arm in a serene
7423
manner, and observing that it was time to go to bed.
7424

7425
Next noontide saw the admirable woman in her usual place in the
7426
wine-shop, knitting away assiduously. A rose lay beside her, and if she
7427
now and then glanced at the flower, it was with no infraction of her
7428
usual preoccupied air. There were a few customers, drinking or not
7429
drinking, standing or seated, sprinkled about. The day was very hot,
7430
and heaps of flies, who were extending their inquisitive and adventurous
7431
perquisitions into all the glutinous little glasses near madame, fell
7432
dead at the bottom. Their decease made no impression on the other flies
7433
out promenading, who looked at them in the coolest manner (as if they
7434
themselves were elephants, or something as far removed), until they met
7435
the same fate. Curious to consider how heedless flies are!--perhaps they
7436
thought as much at Court that sunny summer day.
7437

7438
A figure entering at the door threw a shadow on Madame Defarge which she
7439
felt to be a new one. She laid down her knitting, and began to pin her
7440
rose in her head-dress, before she looked at the figure.
7441

7442
It was curious. The moment Madame Defarge took up the rose, the
7443
customers ceased talking, and began gradually to drop out of the
7444
wine-shop.
7445

7446
"Good day, madame," said the new-comer.
7447

7448
"Good day, monsieur."
7449

7450
She said it aloud, but added to herself, as she resumed her knitting:
7451
"Hah! Good day, age about forty, height about five feet nine, black
7452
hair, generally rather handsome visage, complexion dark, eyes dark,
7453
thin, long and sallow face, aquiline nose but not straight, having a
7454
peculiar inclination towards the left cheek which imparts a sinister
7455
expression! Good day, one and all!"
7456

7457
"Have the goodness to give me a little glass of old cognac, and a
7458
mouthful of cool fresh water, madame."
7459

7460
Madame complied with a polite air.
7461

7462
"Marvellous cognac this, madame!"
7463

7464
It was the first time it had ever been so complimented, and Madame
7465
Defarge knew enough of its antecedents to know better. She said,
7466
however, that the cognac was flattered, and took up her knitting. The
7467
visitor watched her fingers for a few moments, and took the opportunity
7468
of observing the place in general.
7469

7470
"You knit with great skill, madame."
7471

7472
"I am accustomed to it."
7473

7474
"A pretty pattern too!"
7475

7476
"_You_ think so?" said madame, looking at him with a smile.
7477

7478
"Decidedly. May one ask what it is for?"
7479

7480
"Pastime," said madame, still looking at him with a smile while her
7481
fingers moved nimbly.
7482

7483
"Not for use?"
7484

7485
"That depends. I may find a use for it one day. If I do--Well," said
7486
madame, drawing a breath and nodding her head with a stern kind of
7487
coquetry, "I'll use it!"
7488

7489
It was remarkable; but, the taste of Saint Antoine seemed to be
7490
decidedly opposed to a rose on the head-dress of Madame Defarge. Two
7491
men had entered separately, and had been about to order drink, when,
7492
catching sight of that novelty, they faltered, made a pretence of
7493
looking about as if for some friend who was not there, and went away.
7494
Nor, of those who had been there when this visitor entered, was there
7495
one left. They had all dropped off. The spy had kept his eyes open,
7496
but had been able to detect no sign. They had lounged away in a
7497
poverty-stricken, purposeless, accidental manner, quite natural and
7498
unimpeachable.
7499

7500
"_John_," thought madame, checking off her work as her fingers knitted,
7501
and her eyes looked at the stranger. "Stay long enough, and I shall knit
7502
'BARSAD' before you go."
7503

7504
"You have a husband, madame?"
7505

7506
"I have."
7507

7508
"Children?"
7509

7510
"No children."
7511

7512
"Business seems bad?"
7513

7514
"Business is very bad; the people are so poor."
7515

7516
"Ah, the unfortunate, miserable people! So oppressed, too--as you say."
7517

7518
"As _you_ say," madame retorted, correcting him, and deftly knitting an
7519
extra something into his name that boded him no good.
7520

7521
"Pardon me; certainly it was I who said so, but you naturally think so.
7522
Of course."
7523

7524
"_I_ think?" returned madame, in a high voice. "I and my husband have
7525
enough to do to keep this wine-shop open, without thinking. All we
7526
think, here, is how to live. That is the subject _we_ think of, and
7527
it gives us, from morning to night, enough to think about, without
7528
embarrassing our heads concerning others. _I_ think for others? No, no."
7529

7530
The spy, who was there to pick up any crumbs he could find or make, did
7531
not allow his baffled state to express itself in his sinister face; but,
7532
stood with an air of gossiping gallantry, leaning his elbow on Madame
7533
Defarge's little counter, and occasionally sipping his cognac.
7534

7535
"A bad business this, madame, of Gaspard's execution. Ah! the poor
7536
Gaspard!" With a sigh of great compassion.
7537

7538
"My faith!" returned madame, coolly and lightly, "if people use knives
7539
for such purposes, they have to pay for it. He knew beforehand what the
7540
price of his luxury was; he has paid the price."
7541

7542
"I believe," said the spy, dropping his soft voice to a tone
7543
that invited confidence, and expressing an injured revolutionary
7544
susceptibility in every muscle of his wicked face: "I believe there
7545
is much compassion and anger in this neighbourhood, touching the poor
7546
fellow? Between ourselves."
7547

7548
"Is there?" asked madame, vacantly.
7549

7550
"Is there not?"
7551

7552
"--Here is my husband!" said Madame Defarge.
7553

7554
As the keeper of the wine-shop entered at the door, the spy saluted
7555
him by touching his hat, and saying, with an engaging smile, "Good day,
7556
Jacques!" Defarge stopped short, and stared at him.
7557

7558
"Good day, Jacques!" the spy repeated; with not quite so much
7559
confidence, or quite so easy a smile under the stare.
7560

7561
"You deceive yourself, monsieur," returned the keeper of the wine-shop.
7562
"You mistake me for another. That is not my name. I am Ernest Defarge."
7563

7564
"It is all the same," said the spy, airily, but discomfited too: "good
7565
day!"
7566

7567
"Good day!" answered Defarge, drily.
7568

7569
"I was saying to madame, with whom I had the pleasure of chatting when
7570
you entered, that they tell me there is--and no wonder!--much sympathy
7571
and anger in Saint Antoine, touching the unhappy fate of poor Gaspard."
7572

7573
"No one has told me so," said Defarge, shaking his head. "I know nothing
7574
of it."
7575

7576
Having said it, he passed behind the little counter, and stood with his
7577
hand on the back of his wife's chair, looking over that barrier at the
7578
person to whom they were both opposed, and whom either of them would
7579
have shot with the greatest satisfaction.
7580

7581
The spy, well used to his business, did not change his unconscious
7582
attitude, but drained his little glass of cognac, took a sip of fresh
7583
water, and asked for another glass of cognac. Madame Defarge poured it
7584
out for him, took to her knitting again, and hummed a little song over
7585
it.
7586

7587
"You seem to know this quarter well; that is to say, better than I do?"
7588
 observed Defarge.
7589

7590
"Not at all, but I hope to know it better. I am so profoundly interested
7591
in its miserable inhabitants."
7592

7593
"Hah!" muttered Defarge.
7594

7595
"The pleasure of conversing with you, Monsieur Defarge, recalls to me,"
7596
 pursued the spy, "that I have the honour of cherishing some interesting
7597
associations with your name."
7598

7599
"Indeed!" said Defarge, with much indifference.
7600

7601
"Yes, indeed. When Doctor Manette was released, you, his old domestic,
7602
had the charge of him, I know. He was delivered to you. You see I am
7603
informed of the circumstances?"
7604

7605
"Such is the fact, certainly," said Defarge. He had had it conveyed
7606
to him, in an accidental touch of his wife's elbow as she knitted and
7607
warbled, that he would do best to answer, but always with brevity.
7608

7609
"It was to you," said the spy, "that his daughter came; and it was
7610
from your care that his daughter took him, accompanied by a neat brown
7611
monsieur; how is he called?--in a little wig--Lorry--of the bank of
7612
Tellson and Company--over to England."
7613

7614
"Such is the fact," repeated Defarge.
7615

7616
"Very interesting remembrances!" said the spy. "I have known Doctor
7617
Manette and his daughter, in England."
7618

7619
"Yes?" said Defarge.
7620

7621
"You don't hear much about them now?" said the spy.
7622

7623
"No," said Defarge.
7624

7625
"In effect," madame struck in, looking up from her work and her little
7626
song, "we never hear about them. We received the news of their safe
7627
arrival, and perhaps another letter, or perhaps two; but, since then,
7628
they have gradually taken their road in life--we, ours--and we have held
7629
no correspondence."
7630

7631
"Perfectly so, madame," replied the spy. "She is going to be married."
7632

7633
"Going?" echoed madame. "She was pretty enough to have been married long
7634
ago. You English are cold, it seems to me."
7635

7636
"Oh! You know I am English."
7637

7638
"I perceive your tongue is," returned madame; "and what the tongue is, I
7639
suppose the man is."
7640

7641
He did not take the identification as a compliment; but he made the best
7642
of it, and turned it off with a laugh. After sipping his cognac to the
7643
end, he added:
7644

7645
"Yes, Miss Manette is going to be married. But not to an Englishman; to
7646
one who, like herself, is French by birth. And speaking of Gaspard (ah,
7647
poor Gaspard! It was cruel, cruel!), it is a curious thing that she is
7648
going to marry the nephew of Monsieur the Marquis, for whom Gaspard
7649
was exalted to that height of so many feet; in other words, the present
7650
Marquis. But he lives unknown in England, he is no Marquis there; he is
7651
Mr. Charles Darnay. D'Aulnais is the name of his mother's family."
7652

7653
Madame Defarge knitted steadily, but the intelligence had a palpable
7654
effect upon her husband. Do what he would, behind the little counter,
7655
as to the striking of a light and the lighting of his pipe, he was
7656
troubled, and his hand was not trustworthy. The spy would have been no
7657
spy if he had failed to see it, or to record it in his mind.
7658

7659
Having made, at least, this one hit, whatever it might prove to be
7660
worth, and no customers coming in to help him to any other, Mr. Barsad
7661
paid for what he had drunk, and took his leave: taking occasion to say,
7662
in a genteel manner, before he departed, that he looked forward to the
7663
pleasure of seeing Monsieur and Madame Defarge again. For some minutes
7664
after he had emerged into the outer presence of Saint Antoine, the
7665
husband and wife remained exactly as he had left them, lest he should
7666
come back.
7667

7668
"Can it be true," said Defarge, in a low voice, looking down at his wife
7669
as he stood smoking with his hand on the back of her chair: "what he has
7670
said of Ma'amselle Manette?"
7671

7672
"As he has said it," returned madame, lifting her eyebrows a little, "it
7673
is probably false. But it may be true."
7674

7675
"If it is--" Defarge began, and stopped.
7676

7677
"If it is?" repeated his wife.
7678

7679
"--And if it does come, while we live to see it triumph--I hope, for her
7680
sake, Destiny will keep her husband out of France."
7681

7682
"Her husband's destiny," said Madame Defarge, with her usual composure,
7683
"will take him where he is to go, and will lead him to the end that is
7684
to end him. That is all I know."
7685

7686
"But it is very strange--now, at least, is it not very strange"--said
7687
Defarge, rather pleading with his wife to induce her to admit it,
7688
"that, after all our sympathy for Monsieur her father, and herself, her
7689
husband's name should be proscribed under your hand at this moment, by
7690
the side of that infernal dog's who has just left us?"
7691

7692
"Stranger things than that will happen when it does come," answered
7693
madame. "I have them both here, of a certainty; and they are both here
7694
for their merits; that is enough."
7695

7696
She rolled up her knitting when she had said those words, and presently
7697
took the rose out of the handkerchief that was wound about her head.
7698
Either Saint Antoine had an instinctive sense that the objectionable
7699
decoration was gone, or Saint Antoine was on the watch for its
7700
disappearance; howbeit, the Saint took courage to lounge in, very
7701
shortly afterwards, and the wine-shop recovered its habitual aspect.
7702

7703
In the evening, at which season of all others Saint Antoine turned
7704
himself inside out, and sat on door-steps and window-ledges, and came
7705
to the corners of vile streets and courts, for a breath of air, Madame
7706
Defarge with her work in her hand was accustomed to pass from place
7707
to place and from group to group: a Missionary--there were many like
7708
her--such as the world will do well never to breed again. All the women
7709
knitted. They knitted worthless things; but, the mechanical work was a
7710
mechanical substitute for eating and drinking; the hands moved for the
7711
jaws and the digestive apparatus: if the bony fingers had been still,
7712
the stomachs would have been more famine-pinched.
7713

7714
But, as the fingers went, the eyes went, and the thoughts. And as Madame
7715
Defarge moved on from group to group, all three went quicker and fiercer
7716
among every little knot of women that she had spoken with, and left
7717
behind.
7718

7719
Her husband smoked at his door, looking after her with admiration. "A
7720
great woman," said he, "a strong woman, a grand woman, a frightfully
7721
grand woman!"
7722

7723
Darkness closed around, and then came the ringing of church bells and
7724
the distant beating of the military drums in the Palace Courtyard, as
7725
the women sat knitting, knitting. Darkness encompassed them. Another
7726
darkness was closing in as surely, when the church bells, then ringing
7727
pleasantly in many an airy steeple over France, should be melted into
7728
thundering cannon; when the military drums should be beating to drown a
7729
wretched voice, that night all potent as the voice of Power and Plenty,
7730
Freedom and Life. So much was closing in about the women who sat
7731
knitting, knitting, that they their very selves were closing in around
7732
a structure yet unbuilt, where they were to sit knitting, knitting,
7733
counting dropping heads.
7734

7735

7736

7737

7738
XVII. One Night
7739

7740

7741
Never did the sun go down with a brighter glory on the quiet corner in
7742
Soho, than one memorable evening when the Doctor and his daughter sat
7743
under the plane-tree together. Never did the moon rise with a milder
7744
radiance over great London, than on that night when it found them still
7745
seated under the tree, and shone upon their faces through its leaves.
7746

7747
Lucie was to be married to-morrow. She had reserved this last evening
7748
for her father, and they sat alone under the plane-tree.
7749

7750
"You are happy, my dear father?"
7751

7752
"Quite, my child."
7753

7754
They had said little, though they had been there a long time. When it
7755
was yet light enough to work and read, she had neither engaged herself
7756
in her usual work, nor had she read to him. She had employed herself in
7757
both ways, at his side under the tree, many and many a time; but, this
7758
time was not quite like any other, and nothing could make it so.
7759

7760
"And I am very happy to-night, dear father. I am deeply happy in the
7761
love that Heaven has so blessed--my love for Charles, and Charles's love
7762
for me. But, if my life were not to be still consecrated to you, or
7763
if my marriage were so arranged as that it would part us, even by
7764
the length of a few of these streets, I should be more unhappy and
7765
self-reproachful now than I can tell you. Even as it is--"
7766

7767
Even as it was, she could not command her voice.
7768

7769
In the sad moonlight, she clasped him by the neck, and laid her face
7770
upon his breast. In the moonlight which is always sad, as the light of
7771
the sun itself is--as the light called human life is--at its coming and
7772
its going.
7773

7774
"Dearest dear! Can you tell me, this last time, that you feel quite,
7775
quite sure, no new affections of mine, and no new duties of mine, will
7776
ever interpose between us? _I_ know it well, but do you know it? In your
7777
own heart, do you feel quite certain?"
7778

7779
Her father answered, with a cheerful firmness of conviction he could
7780
scarcely have assumed, "Quite sure, my darling! More than that," he
7781
added, as he tenderly kissed her: "my future is far brighter, Lucie,
7782
seen through your marriage, than it could have been--nay, than it ever
7783
was--without it."
7784

7785
"If I could hope _that_, my father!--"
7786

7787
"Believe it, love! Indeed it is so. Consider how natural and how plain
7788
it is, my dear, that it should be so. You, devoted and young, cannot
7789
fully appreciate the anxiety I have felt that your life should not be
7790
wasted--"
7791

7792
She moved her hand towards his lips, but he took it in his, and repeated
7793
the word.
7794

7795
"--wasted, my child--should not be wasted, struck aside from the
7796
natural order of things--for my sake. Your unselfishness cannot entirely
7797
comprehend how much my mind has gone on this; but, only ask yourself,
7798
how could my happiness be perfect, while yours was incomplete?"
7799

7800
"If I had never seen Charles, my father, I should have been quite happy
7801
with you."
7802

7803
He smiled at her unconscious admission that she would have been unhappy
7804
without Charles, having seen him; and replied:
7805

7806
"My child, you did see him, and it is Charles. If it had not been
7807
Charles, it would have been another. Or, if it had been no other, I
7808
should have been the cause, and then the dark part of my life would have
7809
cast its shadow beyond myself, and would have fallen on you."
7810

7811
It was the first time, except at the trial, of her ever hearing him
7812
refer to the period of his suffering. It gave her a strange and new
7813
sensation while his words were in her ears; and she remembered it long
7814
afterwards.
7815

7816
"See!" said the Doctor of Beauvais, raising his hand towards the moon.
7817
"I have looked at her from my prison-window, when I could not bear her
7818
light. I have looked at her when it has been such torture to me to think
7819
of her shining upon what I had lost, that I have beaten my head against
7820
my prison-walls. I have looked at her, in a state so dull and lethargic,
7821
that I have thought of nothing but the number of horizontal lines I
7822
could draw across her at the full, and the number of perpendicular lines
7823
with which I could intersect them." He added in his inward and pondering
7824
manner, as he looked at the moon, "It was twenty either way, I remember,
7825
and the twentieth was difficult to squeeze in."
7826

7827
The strange thrill with which she heard him go back to that time,
7828
deepened as he dwelt upon it; but, there was nothing to shock her in
7829
the manner of his reference. He only seemed to contrast his present
7830
cheerfulness and felicity with the dire endurance that was over.
7831

7832
"I have looked at her, speculating thousands of times upon the unborn
7833
child from whom I had been rent. Whether it was alive. Whether it had
7834
been born alive, or the poor mother's shock had killed it. Whether it
7835
was a son who would some day avenge his father. (There was a time in my
7836
imprisonment, when my desire for vengeance was unbearable.) Whether it
7837
was a son who would never know his father's story; who might even live
7838
to weigh the possibility of his father's having disappeared of his own
7839
will and act. Whether it was a daughter who would grow to be a woman."
7840

7841
She drew closer to him, and kissed his cheek and his hand.
7842

7843
"I have pictured my daughter, to myself, as perfectly forgetful of
7844
me--rather, altogether ignorant of me, and unconscious of me. I have
7845
cast up the years of her age, year after year. I have seen her married
7846
to a man who knew nothing of my fate. I have altogether perished from
7847
the remembrance of the living, and in the next generation my place was a
7848
blank."
7849

7850
"My father! Even to hear that you had such thoughts of a daughter who
7851
never existed, strikes to my heart as if I had been that child."
7852

7853
"You, Lucie? It is out of the Consolation and restoration you have
7854
brought to me, that these remembrances arise, and pass between us and
7855
the moon on this last night.--What did I say just now?"
7856

7857
"She knew nothing of you. She cared nothing for you."
7858

7859
"So! But on other moonlight nights, when the sadness and the silence
7860
have touched me in a different way--have affected me with something as
7861
like a sorrowful sense of peace, as any emotion that had pain for its
7862
foundations could--I have imagined her as coming to me in my cell, and
7863
leading me out into the freedom beyond the fortress. I have seen her
7864
image in the moonlight often, as I now see you; except that I never held
7865
her in my arms; it stood between the little grated window and the door.
7866
But, you understand that that was not the child I am speaking of?"
7867

7868
"The figure was not; the--the--image; the fancy?"
7869

7870
"No. That was another thing. It stood before my disturbed sense of
7871
sight, but it never moved. The phantom that my mind pursued, was another
7872
and more real child. Of her outward appearance I know no more than
7873
that she was like her mother. The other had that likeness too--as you
7874
have--but was not the same. Can you follow me, Lucie? Hardly, I think?
7875
I doubt you must have been a solitary prisoner to understand these
7876
perplexed distinctions."
7877

7878
His collected and calm manner could not prevent her blood from running
7879
cold, as he thus tried to anatomise his old condition.
7880

7881
"In that more peaceful state, I have imagined her, in the moonlight,
7882
coming to me and taking me out to show me that the home of her married
7883
life was full of her loving remembrance of her lost father. My picture
7884
was in her room, and I was in her prayers. Her life was active,
7885
cheerful, useful; but my poor history pervaded it all."
7886

7887
"I was that child, my father, I was not half so good, but in my love
7888
that was I."
7889

7890
"And she showed me her children," said the Doctor of Beauvais, "and
7891
they had heard of me, and had been taught to pity me. When they passed
7892
a prison of the State, they kept far from its frowning walls, and looked
7893
up at its bars, and spoke in whispers. She could never deliver me; I
7894
imagined that she always brought me back after showing me such things.
7895
But then, blessed with the relief of tears, I fell upon my knees, and
7896
blessed her."
7897

7898
"I am that child, I hope, my father. O my dear, my dear, will you bless
7899
me as fervently to-morrow?"
7900

7901
"Lucie, I recall these old troubles in the reason that I have to-night
7902
for loving you better than words can tell, and thanking God for my great
7903
happiness. My thoughts, when they were wildest, never rose near the
7904
happiness that I have known with you, and that we have before us."
7905

7906
He embraced her, solemnly commended her to Heaven, and humbly thanked
7907
Heaven for having bestowed her on him. By-and-bye, they went into the
7908
house.
7909

7910
There was no one bidden to the marriage but Mr. Lorry; there was even to
7911
be no bridesmaid but the gaunt Miss Pross. The marriage was to make no
7912
change in their place of residence; they had been able to extend it,
7913
by taking to themselves the upper rooms formerly belonging to the
7914
apocryphal invisible lodger, and they desired nothing more.
7915

7916
Doctor Manette was very cheerful at the little supper. They were only
7917
three at table, and Miss Pross made the third. He regretted that Charles
7918
was not there; was more than half disposed to object to the loving
7919
little plot that kept him away; and drank to him affectionately.
7920

7921
So, the time came for him to bid Lucie good night, and they separated.
7922
But, in the stillness of the third hour of the morning, Lucie came
7923
downstairs again, and stole into his room; not free from unshaped fears,
7924
beforehand.
7925

7926
All things, however, were in their places; all was quiet; and he lay
7927
asleep, his white hair picturesque on the untroubled pillow, and his
7928
hands lying quiet on the coverlet. She put her needless candle in the
7929
shadow at a distance, crept up to his bed, and put her lips to his;
7930
then, leaned over him, and looked at him.
7931

7932
Into his handsome face, the bitter waters of captivity had worn; but, he
7933
covered up their tracks with a determination so strong, that he held the
7934
mastery of them even in his sleep. A more remarkable face in its quiet,
7935
resolute, and guarded struggle with an unseen assailant, was not to be
7936
beheld in all the wide dominions of sleep, that night.
7937

7938
She timidly laid her hand on his dear breast, and put up a prayer that
7939
she might ever be as true to him as her love aspired to be, and as his
7940
sorrows deserved. Then, she withdrew her hand, and kissed his lips once
7941
more, and went away. So, the sunrise came, and the shadows of the leaves
7942
of the plane-tree moved upon his face, as softly as her lips had moved
7943
in praying for him.
7944

7945

7946

7947

7948
XVIII. Nine Days
7949

7950

7951
The marriage-day was shining brightly, and they were ready outside the
7952
closed door of the Doctor's room, where he was speaking with Charles
7953
Darnay. They were ready to go to church; the beautiful bride, Mr.
7954
Lorry, and Miss Pross--to whom the event, through a gradual process of
7955
reconcilement to the inevitable, would have been one of absolute bliss,
7956
but for the yet lingering consideration that her brother Solomon should
7957
have been the bridegroom.
7958

7959
"And so," said Mr. Lorry, who could not sufficiently admire the bride,
7960
and who had been moving round her to take in every point of her quiet,
7961
pretty dress; "and so it was for this, my sweet Lucie, that I brought
7962
you across the Channel, such a baby! Lord bless me! How little I thought
7963
what I was doing! How lightly I valued the obligation I was conferring
7964
on my friend Mr. Charles!"
7965

7966
"You didn't mean it," remarked the matter-of-fact Miss Pross, "and
7967
therefore how could you know it? Nonsense!"
7968

7969
"Really? Well; but don't cry," said the gentle Mr. Lorry.
7970

7971
"I am not crying," said Miss Pross; "_you_ are."
7972

7973
"I, my Pross?" (By this time, Mr. Lorry dared to be pleasant with her,
7974
on occasion.)
7975

7976
"You were, just now; I saw you do it, and I don't wonder at it. Such
7977
a present of plate as you have made 'em, is enough to bring tears into
7978
anybody's eyes. There's not a fork or a spoon in the collection," said
7979
Miss Pross, "that I didn't cry over, last night after the box came, till
7980
I couldn't see it."
7981

7982
"I am highly gratified," said Mr. Lorry, "though, upon my honour, I
7983
had no intention of rendering those trifling articles of remembrance
7984
invisible to any one. Dear me! This is an occasion that makes a man
7985
speculate on all he has lost. Dear, dear, dear! To think that there
7986
might have been a Mrs. Lorry, any time these fifty years almost!"
7987

7988
"Not at all!" From Miss Pross.
7989

7990
"You think there never might have been a Mrs. Lorry?" asked the
7991
gentleman of that name.
7992

7993
"Pooh!" rejoined Miss Pross; "you were a bachelor in your cradle."
7994

7995
"Well!" observed Mr. Lorry, beamingly adjusting his little wig, "that
7996
seems probable, too."
7997

7998
"And you were cut out for a bachelor," pursued Miss Pross, "before you
7999
were put in your cradle."
8000

8001
"Then, I think," said Mr. Lorry, "that I was very unhandsomely dealt
8002
with, and that I ought to have had a voice in the selection of my
8003
pattern. Enough! Now, my dear Lucie," drawing his arm soothingly round
8004
her waist, "I hear them moving in the next room, and Miss Pross and
8005
I, as two formal folks of business, are anxious not to lose the final
8006
opportunity of saying something to you that you wish to hear. You leave
8007
your good father, my dear, in hands as earnest and as loving as your
8008
own; he shall be taken every conceivable care of; during the next
8009
fortnight, while you are in Warwickshire and thereabouts, even Tellson's
8010
shall go to the wall (comparatively speaking) before him. And when, at
8011
the fortnight's end, he comes to join you and your beloved husband, on
8012
your other fortnight's trip in Wales, you shall say that we have sent
8013
him to you in the best health and in the happiest frame. Now, I hear
8014
Somebody's step coming to the door. Let me kiss my dear girl with an
8015
old-fashioned bachelor blessing, before Somebody comes to claim his
8016
own."
8017

8018
For a moment, he held the fair face from him to look at the
8019
well-remembered expression on the forehead, and then laid the bright
8020
golden hair against his little brown wig, with a genuine tenderness and
8021
delicacy which, if such things be old-fashioned, were as old as Adam.
8022

8023
The door of the Doctor's room opened, and he came out with Charles
8024
Darnay. He was so deadly pale--which had not been the case when they
8025
went in together--that no vestige of colour was to be seen in his face.
8026
But, in the composure of his manner he was unaltered, except that to the
8027
shrewd glance of Mr. Lorry it disclosed some shadowy indication that the
8028
old air of avoidance and dread had lately passed over him, like a cold
8029
wind.
8030

8031
He gave his arm to his daughter, and took her down-stairs to the chariot
8032
which Mr. Lorry had hired in honour of the day. The rest followed in
8033
another carriage, and soon, in a neighbouring church, where no strange
8034
eyes looked on, Charles Darnay and Lucie Manette were happily married.
8035

8036
Besides the glancing tears that shone among the smiles of the little
8037
group when it was done, some diamonds, very bright and sparkling,
8038
glanced on the bride's hand, which were newly released from the
8039
dark obscurity of one of Mr. Lorry's pockets. They returned home to
8040
breakfast, and all went well, and in due course the golden hair that had
8041
mingled with the poor shoemaker's white locks in the Paris garret, were
8042
mingled with them again in the morning sunlight, on the threshold of the
8043
door at parting.
8044

8045
It was a hard parting, though it was not for long. But her father
8046
cheered her, and said at last, gently disengaging himself from her
8047
enfolding arms, "Take her, Charles! She is yours!"
8048

8049
And her agitated hand waved to them from a chaise window, and she was
8050
gone.
8051

8052
The corner being out of the way of the idle and curious, and the
8053
preparations having been very simple and few, the Doctor, Mr. Lorry,
8054
and Miss Pross, were left quite alone. It was when they turned into
8055
the welcome shade of the cool old hall, that Mr. Lorry observed a great
8056
change to have come over the Doctor; as if the golden arm uplifted
8057
there, had struck him a poisoned blow.
8058

8059
He had naturally repressed much, and some revulsion might have been
8060
expected in him when the occasion for repression was gone. But, it was
8061
the old scared lost look that troubled Mr. Lorry; and through his absent
8062
manner of clasping his head and drearily wandering away into his own
8063
room when they got up-stairs, Mr. Lorry was reminded of Defarge the
8064
wine-shop keeper, and the starlight ride.
8065

8066
"I think," he whispered to Miss Pross, after anxious consideration, "I
8067
think we had best not speak to him just now, or at all disturb him.
8068
I must look in at Tellson's; so I will go there at once and come back
8069
presently. Then, we will take him a ride into the country, and dine
8070
there, and all will be well."
8071

8072
It was easier for Mr. Lorry to look in at Tellson's, than to look out of
8073
Tellson's. He was detained two hours. When he came back, he ascended the
8074
old staircase alone, having asked no question of the servant; going thus
8075
into the Doctor's rooms, he was stopped by a low sound of knocking.
8076

8077
"Good God!" he said, with a start. "What's that?"
8078

8079
Miss Pross, with a terrified face, was at his ear. "O me, O me! All is
8080
lost!" cried she, wringing her hands. "What is to be told to Ladybird?
8081
He doesn't know me, and is making shoes!"
8082

8083
Mr. Lorry said what he could to calm her, and went himself into the
8084
Doctor's room. The bench was turned towards the light, as it had been
8085
when he had seen the shoemaker at his work before, and his head was bent
8086
down, and he was very busy.
8087

8088
"Doctor Manette. My dear friend, Doctor Manette!"
8089

8090
The Doctor looked at him for a moment--half inquiringly, half as if he
8091
were angry at being spoken to--and bent over his work again.
8092

8093
He had laid aside his coat and waistcoat; his shirt was open at the
8094
throat, as it used to be when he did that work; and even the old
8095
haggard, faded surface of face had come back to him. He worked
8096
hard--impatiently--as if in some sense of having been interrupted.
8097

8098
Mr. Lorry glanced at the work in his hand, and observed that it was a
8099
shoe of the old size and shape. He took up another that was lying by
8100
him, and asked what it was.
8101

8102
"A young lady's walking shoe," he muttered, without looking up. "It
8103
ought to have been finished long ago. Let it be."
8104

8105
"But, Doctor Manette. Look at me!"
8106

8107
He obeyed, in the old mechanically submissive manner, without pausing in
8108
his work.
8109

8110
"You know me, my dear friend? Think again. This is not your proper
8111
occupation. Think, dear friend!"
8112

8113
Nothing would induce him to speak more. He looked up, for an instant at
8114
a time, when he was requested to do so; but, no persuasion would extract
8115
a word from him. He worked, and worked, and worked, in silence, and
8116
words fell on him as they would have fallen on an echoless wall, or on
8117
the air. The only ray of hope that Mr. Lorry could discover, was, that
8118
he sometimes furtively looked up without being asked. In that, there
8119
seemed a faint expression of curiosity or perplexity--as though he were
8120
trying to reconcile some doubts in his mind.
8121

8122
Two things at once impressed themselves on Mr. Lorry, as important above
8123
all others; the first, that this must be kept secret from Lucie;
8124
the second, that it must be kept secret from all who knew him. In
8125
conjunction with Miss Pross, he took immediate steps towards the latter
8126
precaution, by giving out that the Doctor was not well, and required a
8127
few days of complete rest. In aid of the kind deception to be practised
8128
on his daughter, Miss Pross was to write, describing his having been
8129
called away professionally, and referring to an imaginary letter of
8130
two or three hurried lines in his own hand, represented to have been
8131
addressed to her by the same post.
8132

8133
These measures, advisable to be taken in any case, Mr. Lorry took in
8134
the hope of his coming to himself. If that should happen soon, he kept
8135
another course in reserve; which was, to have a certain opinion that he
8136
thought the best, on the Doctor's case.
8137

8138
In the hope of his recovery, and of resort to this third course
8139
being thereby rendered practicable, Mr. Lorry resolved to watch him
8140
attentively, with as little appearance as possible of doing so. He
8141
therefore made arrangements to absent himself from Tellson's for the
8142
first time in his life, and took his post by the window in the same
8143
room.
8144

8145
He was not long in discovering that it was worse than useless to speak
8146
to him, since, on being pressed, he became worried. He abandoned that
8147
attempt on the first day, and resolved merely to keep himself always
8148
before him, as a silent protest against the delusion into which he had
8149
fallen, or was falling. He remained, therefore, in his seat near the
8150
window, reading and writing, and expressing in as many pleasant and
8151
natural ways as he could think of, that it was a free place.
8152

8153
Doctor Manette took what was given him to eat and drink, and worked on,
8154
that first day, until it was too dark to see--worked on, half an hour
8155
after Mr. Lorry could not have seen, for his life, to read or write.
8156
When he put his tools aside as useless, until morning, Mr. Lorry rose
8157
and said to him:
8158

8159
"Will you go out?"
8160

8161
He looked down at the floor on either side of him in the old manner,
8162
looked up in the old manner, and repeated in the old low voice:
8163

8164
"Out?"
8165

8166
"Yes; for a walk with me. Why not?"
8167

8168
He made no effort to say why not, and said not a word more. But, Mr.
8169
Lorry thought he saw, as he leaned forward on his bench in the dusk,
8170
with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, that he was in
8171
some misty way asking himself, "Why not?" The sagacity of the man of
8172
business perceived an advantage here, and determined to hold it.
8173

8174
Miss Pross and he divided the night into two watches, and observed him
8175
at intervals from the adjoining room. He paced up and down for a long
8176
time before he lay down; but, when he did finally lay himself down, he
8177
fell asleep. In the morning, he was up betimes, and went straight to his
8178
bench and to work.
8179

8180
On this second day, Mr. Lorry saluted him cheerfully by his name,
8181
and spoke to him on topics that had been of late familiar to them. He
8182
returned no reply, but it was evident that he heard what was said, and
8183
that he thought about it, however confusedly. This encouraged Mr. Lorry
8184
to have Miss Pross in with her work, several times during the day;
8185
at those times, they quietly spoke of Lucie, and of her father then
8186
present, precisely in the usual manner, and as if there were nothing
8187
amiss. This was done without any demonstrative accompaniment, not long
8188
enough, or often enough to harass him; and it lightened Mr. Lorry's
8189
friendly heart to believe that he looked up oftener, and that he
8190
appeared to be stirred by some perception of inconsistencies surrounding
8191
him.
8192

8193
When it fell dark again, Mr. Lorry asked him as before:
8194

8195
"Dear Doctor, will you go out?"
8196

8197
As before, he repeated, "Out?"
8198

8199
"Yes; for a walk with me. Why not?"
8200

8201
This time, Mr. Lorry feigned to go out when he could extract no answer
8202
from him, and, after remaining absent for an hour, returned. In the
8203
meanwhile, the Doctor had removed to the seat in the window, and had
8204
sat there looking down at the plane-tree; but, on Mr. Lorry's return, he
8205
slipped away to his bench.
8206

8207
The time went very slowly on, and Mr. Lorry's hope darkened, and his
8208
heart grew heavier again, and grew yet heavier and heavier every day.
8209
The third day came and went, the fourth, the fifth. Five days, six days,
8210
seven days, eight days, nine days.
8211

8212
With a hope ever darkening, and with a heart always growing heavier and
8213
heavier, Mr. Lorry passed through this anxious time. The secret was
8214
well kept, and Lucie was unconscious and happy; but he could not fail to
8215
observe that the shoemaker, whose hand had been a little out at first,
8216
was growing dreadfully skilful, and that he had never been so intent on
8217
his work, and that his hands had never been so nimble and expert, as in
8218
the dusk of the ninth evening.
8219

8220

8221

8222

8223
XIX. An Opinion
8224

8225

8226
Worn out by anxious watching, Mr. Lorry fell asleep at his post. On the
8227
tenth morning of his suspense, he was startled by the shining of the sun
8228
into the room where a heavy slumber had overtaken him when it was dark
8229
night.
8230

8231
He rubbed his eyes and roused himself; but he doubted, when he had
8232
done so, whether he was not still asleep. For, going to the door of the
8233
Doctor's room and looking in, he perceived that the shoemaker's bench
8234
and tools were put aside again, and that the Doctor himself sat reading
8235
at the window. He was in his usual morning dress, and his face (which
8236
Mr. Lorry could distinctly see), though still very pale, was calmly
8237
studious and attentive.
8238

8239
Even when he had satisfied himself that he was awake, Mr. Lorry felt
8240
giddily uncertain for some few moments whether the late shoemaking might
8241
not be a disturbed dream of his own; for, did not his eyes show him his
8242
friend before him in his accustomed clothing and aspect, and employed
8243
as usual; and was there any sign within their range, that the change of
8244
which he had so strong an impression had actually happened?
8245

8246
It was but the inquiry of his first confusion and astonishment, the
8247
answer being obvious. If the impression were not produced by a real
8248
corresponding and sufficient cause, how came he, Jarvis Lorry, there?
8249
How came he to have fallen asleep, in his clothes, on the sofa in Doctor
8250
Manette's consulting-room, and to be debating these points outside the
8251
Doctor's bedroom door in the early morning?
8252

8253
Within a few minutes, Miss Pross stood whispering at his side. If he
8254
had had any particle of doubt left, her talk would of necessity have
8255
resolved it; but he was by that time clear-headed, and had none.
8256
He advised that they should let the time go by until the regular
8257
breakfast-hour, and should then meet the Doctor as if nothing unusual
8258
had occurred. If he appeared to be in his customary state of mind, Mr.
8259
Lorry would then cautiously proceed to seek direction and guidance from
8260
the opinion he had been, in his anxiety, so anxious to obtain.
8261

8262
Miss Pross, submitting herself to his judgment, the scheme was worked
8263
out with care. Having abundance of time for his usual methodical
8264
toilette, Mr. Lorry presented himself at the breakfast-hour in his usual
8265
white linen, and with his usual neat leg. The Doctor was summoned in the
8266
usual way, and came to breakfast.
8267

8268
So far as it was possible to comprehend him without overstepping those
8269
delicate and gradual approaches which Mr. Lorry felt to be the only safe
8270
advance, he at first supposed that his daughter's marriage had taken
8271
place yesterday. An incidental allusion, purposely thrown out, to
8272
the day of the week, and the day of the month, set him thinking and
8273
counting, and evidently made him uneasy. In all other respects, however,
8274
he was so composedly himself, that Mr. Lorry determined to have the aid
8275
he sought. And that aid was his own.
8276

8277
Therefore, when the breakfast was done and cleared away, and he and the
8278
Doctor were left together, Mr. Lorry said, feelingly:
8279

8280
"My dear Manette, I am anxious to have your opinion, in confidence, on a
8281
very curious case in which I am deeply interested; that is to say, it is
8282
very curious to me; perhaps, to your better information it may be less
8283
so."
8284

8285
Glancing at his hands, which were discoloured by his late work, the
8286
Doctor looked troubled, and listened attentively. He had already glanced
8287
at his hands more than once.
8288

8289
"Doctor Manette," said Mr. Lorry, touching him affectionately on the
8290
arm, "the case is the case of a particularly dear friend of mine. Pray
8291
give your mind to it, and advise me well for his sake--and above all,
8292
for his daughter's--his daughter's, my dear Manette."
8293

8294
"If I understand," said the Doctor, in a subdued tone, "some mental
8295
shock--?"
8296

8297
"Yes!"
8298

8299
"Be explicit," said the Doctor. "Spare no detail."
8300

8301
Mr. Lorry saw that they understood one another, and proceeded.
8302

8303
"My dear Manette, it is the case of an old and a prolonged shock,
8304
of great acuteness and severity to the affections, the feelings,
8305
the--the--as you express it--the mind. The mind. It is the case of a
8306
shock under which the sufferer was borne down, one cannot say for how
8307
long, because I believe he cannot calculate the time himself, and there
8308
are no other means of getting at it. It is the case of a shock from
8309
which the sufferer recovered, by a process that he cannot trace
8310
himself--as I once heard him publicly relate in a striking manner. It is
8311
the case of a shock from which he has recovered, so completely, as to
8312
be a highly intelligent man, capable of close application of mind, and
8313
great exertion of body, and of constantly making fresh additions to his
8314
stock of knowledge, which was already very large. But, unfortunately,
8315
there has been," he paused and took a deep breath--"a slight relapse."
8316

8317
The Doctor, in a low voice, asked, "Of how long duration?"
8318

8319
"Nine days and nights."
8320

8321
"How did it show itself? I infer," glancing at his hands again, "in the
8322
resumption of some old pursuit connected with the shock?"
8323

8324
"That is the fact."
8325

8326
"Now, did you ever see him," asked the Doctor, distinctly and
8327
collectedly, though in the same low voice, "engaged in that pursuit
8328
originally?"
8329

8330
"Once."
8331

8332
"And when the relapse fell on him, was he in most respects--or in all
8333
respects--as he was then?"
8334

8335
"I think in all respects."
8336

8337
"You spoke of his daughter. Does his daughter know of the relapse?"
8338

8339
"No. It has been kept from her, and I hope will always be kept from her.
8340
It is known only to myself, and to one other who may be trusted."
8341

8342
The Doctor grasped his hand, and murmured, "That was very kind. That was
8343
very thoughtful!" Mr. Lorry grasped his hand in return, and neither of
8344
the two spoke for a little while.
8345

8346
"Now, my dear Manette," said Mr. Lorry, at length, in his most
8347
considerate and most affectionate way, "I am a mere man of business,
8348
and unfit to cope with such intricate and difficult matters. I do not
8349
possess the kind of information necessary; I do not possess the kind of
8350
intelligence; I want guiding. There is no man in this world on whom
8351
I could so rely for right guidance, as on you. Tell me, how does this
8352
relapse come about? Is there danger of another? Could a repetition of it
8353
be prevented? How should a repetition of it be treated? How does it come
8354
about at all? What can I do for my friend? No man ever can have been
8355
more desirous in his heart to serve a friend, than I am to serve mine,
8356
if I knew how.
8357

8358
"But I don't know how to originate, in such a case. If your sagacity,
8359
knowledge, and experience, could put me on the right track, I might be
8360
able to do so much; unenlightened and undirected, I can do so little.
8361
Pray discuss it with me; pray enable me to see it a little more clearly,
8362
and teach me how to be a little more useful."
8363

8364
Doctor Manette sat meditating after these earnest words were spoken, and
8365
Mr. Lorry did not press him.
8366

8367
"I think it probable," said the Doctor, breaking silence with an effort,
8368
"that the relapse you have described, my dear friend, was not quite
8369
unforeseen by its subject."
8370

8371
"Was it dreaded by him?" Mr. Lorry ventured to ask.
8372

8373
"Very much." He said it with an involuntary shudder.
8374

8375
"You have no idea how such an apprehension weighs on the sufferer's
8376
mind, and how difficult--how almost impossible--it is, for him to force
8377
himself to utter a word upon the topic that oppresses him."
8378

8379
"Would he," asked Mr. Lorry, "be sensibly relieved if he could prevail
8380
upon himself to impart that secret brooding to any one, when it is on
8381
him?"
8382

8383
"I think so. But it is, as I have told you, next to impossible. I even
8384
believe it--in some cases--to be quite impossible."
8385

8386
"Now," said Mr. Lorry, gently laying his hand on the Doctor's arm again,
8387
after a short silence on both sides, "to what would you refer this
8388
attack?"
8389

8390
"I believe," returned Doctor Manette, "that there had been a strong and
8391
extraordinary revival of the train of thought and remembrance that
8392
was the first cause of the malady. Some intense associations of a most
8393
distressing nature were vividly recalled, I think. It is probable that
8394
there had long been a dread lurking in his mind, that those associations
8395
would be recalled--say, under certain circumstances--say, on a
8396
particular occasion. He tried to prepare himself in vain; perhaps the
8397
effort to prepare himself made him less able to bear it."
8398

8399
"Would he remember what took place in the relapse?" asked Mr. Lorry,
8400
with natural hesitation.
8401

8402
The Doctor looked desolately round the room, shook his head, and
8403
answered, in a low voice, "Not at all."
8404

8405
"Now, as to the future," hinted Mr. Lorry.
8406

8407
"As to the future," said the Doctor, recovering firmness, "I should have
8408
great hope. As it pleased Heaven in its mercy to restore him so soon, I
8409
should have great hope. He, yielding under the pressure of a complicated
8410
something, long dreaded and long vaguely foreseen and contended against,
8411
and recovering after the cloud had burst and passed, I should hope that
8412
the worst was over."
8413

8414
"Well, well! That's good comfort. I am thankful!" said Mr. Lorry.
8415

8416
"I am thankful!" repeated the Doctor, bending his head with reverence.
8417

8418
"There are two other points," said Mr. Lorry, "on which I am anxious to
8419
be instructed. I may go on?"
8420

8421
"You cannot do your friend a better service." The Doctor gave him his
8422
hand.
8423

8424
"To the first, then. He is of a studious habit, and unusually energetic;
8425
he applies himself with great ardour to the acquisition of professional
8426
knowledge, to the conducting of experiments, to many things. Now, does
8427
he do too much?"
8428

8429
"I think not. It may be the character of his mind, to be always in
8430
singular need of occupation. That may be, in part, natural to it; in
8431
part, the result of affliction. The less it was occupied with healthy
8432
things, the more it would be in danger of turning in the unhealthy
8433
direction. He may have observed himself, and made the discovery."
8434

8435
"You are sure that he is not under too great a strain?"
8436

8437
"I think I am quite sure of it."
8438

8439
"My dear Manette, if he were overworked now--"
8440

8441
"My dear Lorry, I doubt if that could easily be. There has been a
8442
violent stress in one direction, and it needs a counterweight."
8443

8444
"Excuse me, as a persistent man of business. Assuming for a moment,
8445
that he _was_ overworked; it would show itself in some renewal of this
8446
disorder?"
8447

8448
"I do not think so. I do not think," said Doctor Manette with the
8449
firmness of self-conviction, "that anything but the one train of
8450
association would renew it. I think that, henceforth, nothing but some
8451
extraordinary jarring of that chord could renew it. After what has
8452
happened, and after his recovery, I find it difficult to imagine any
8453
such violent sounding of that string again. I trust, and I almost
8454
believe, that the circumstances likely to renew it are exhausted."
8455

8456
He spoke with the diffidence of a man who knew how slight a thing
8457
would overset the delicate organisation of the mind, and yet with the
8458
confidence of a man who had slowly won his assurance out of personal
8459
endurance and distress. It was not for his friend to abate that
8460
confidence. He professed himself more relieved and encouraged than he
8461
really was, and approached his second and last point. He felt it to
8462
be the most difficult of all; but, remembering his old Sunday morning
8463
conversation with Miss Pross, and remembering what he had seen in the
8464
last nine days, he knew that he must face it.
8465

8466
"The occupation resumed under the influence of this passing affliction
8467
so happily recovered from," said Mr. Lorry, clearing his throat, "we
8468
will call--Blacksmith's work, Blacksmith's work. We will say, to put a
8469
case and for the sake of illustration, that he had been used, in his bad
8470
time, to work at a little forge. We will say that he was unexpectedly
8471
found at his forge again. Is it not a pity that he should keep it by
8472
him?"
8473

8474
The Doctor shaded his forehead with his hand, and beat his foot
8475
nervously on the ground.
8476

8477
"He has always kept it by him," said Mr. Lorry, with an anxious look at
8478
his friend. "Now, would it not be better that he should let it go?"
8479

8480
Still, the Doctor, with shaded forehead, beat his foot nervously on the
8481
ground.
8482

8483
"You do not find it easy to advise me?" said Mr. Lorry. "I quite
8484
understand it to be a nice question. And yet I think--" And there he
8485
shook his head, and stopped.
8486

8487
"You see," said Doctor Manette, turning to him after an uneasy pause,
8488
"it is very hard to explain, consistently, the innermost workings
8489
of this poor man's mind. He once yearned so frightfully for that
8490
occupation, and it was so welcome when it came; no doubt it relieved
8491
his pain so much, by substituting the perplexity of the fingers for
8492
the perplexity of the brain, and by substituting, as he became more
8493
practised, the ingenuity of the hands, for the ingenuity of the mental
8494
torture; that he has never been able to bear the thought of putting it
8495
quite out of his reach. Even now, when I believe he is more hopeful of
8496
himself than he has ever been, and even speaks of himself with a kind
8497
of confidence, the idea that he might need that old employment, and not
8498
find it, gives him a sudden sense of terror, like that which one may
8499
fancy strikes to the heart of a lost child."
8500

8501
He looked like his illustration, as he raised his eyes to Mr. Lorry's
8502
face.
8503

8504
"But may not--mind! I ask for information, as a plodding man of business
8505
who only deals with such material objects as guineas, shillings, and
8506
bank-notes--may not the retention of the thing involve the retention of
8507
the idea? If the thing were gone, my dear Manette, might not the fear go
8508
with it? In short, is it not a concession to the misgiving, to keep the
8509
forge?"
8510

8511
There was another silence.
8512

8513
"You see, too," said the Doctor, tremulously, "it is such an old
8514
companion."
8515

8516
"I would not keep it," said Mr. Lorry, shaking his head; for he gained
8517
in firmness as he saw the Doctor disquieted. "I would recommend him to
8518
sacrifice it. I only want your authority. I am sure it does no good.
8519
Come! Give me your authority, like a dear good man. For his daughter's
8520
sake, my dear Manette!"
8521

8522
Very strange to see what a struggle there was within him!
8523

8524
"In her name, then, let it be done; I sanction it. But, I would not take
8525
it away while he was present. Let it be removed when he is not there;
8526
let him miss his old companion after an absence."
8527

8528
Mr. Lorry readily engaged for that, and the conference was ended. They
8529
passed the day in the country, and the Doctor was quite restored. On the
8530
three following days he remained perfectly well, and on the fourteenth
8531
day he went away to join Lucie and her husband. The precaution that
8532
had been taken to account for his silence, Mr. Lorry had previously
8533
explained to him, and he had written to Lucie in accordance with it, and
8534
she had no suspicions.
8535

8536
On the night of the day on which he left the house, Mr. Lorry went into
8537
his room with a chopper, saw, chisel, and hammer, attended by Miss Pross
8538
carrying a light. There, with closed doors, and in a mysterious and
8539
guilty manner, Mr. Lorry hacked the shoemaker's bench to pieces, while
8540
Miss Pross held the candle as if she were assisting at a murder--for
8541
which, indeed, in her grimness, she was no unsuitable figure. The
8542
burning of the body (previously reduced to pieces convenient for the
8543
purpose) was commenced without delay in the kitchen fire; and the tools,
8544
shoes, and leather, were buried in the garden. So wicked do destruction
8545
and secrecy appear to honest minds, that Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross,
8546
while engaged in the commission of their deed and in the removal of its
8547
traces, almost felt, and almost looked, like accomplices in a horrible
8548
crime.
8549

8550

8551

8552

8553
XX. A Plea
8554

8555

8556
When the newly-married pair came home, the first person who appeared, to
8557
offer his congratulations, was Sydney Carton. They had not been at home
8558
many hours, when he presented himself. He was not improved in habits, or
8559
in looks, or in manner; but there was a certain rugged air of fidelity
8560
about him, which was new to the observation of Charles Darnay.
8561

8562
He watched his opportunity of taking Darnay aside into a window, and of
8563
speaking to him when no one overheard.
8564

8565
"Mr. Darnay," said Carton, "I wish we might be friends."
8566

8567
"We are already friends, I hope."
8568

8569
"You are good enough to say so, as a fashion of speech; but, I don't
8570
mean any fashion of speech. Indeed, when I say I wish we might be
8571
friends, I scarcely mean quite that, either."
8572

8573
Charles Darnay--as was natural--asked him, in all good-humour and
8574
good-fellowship, what he did mean?
8575

8576
"Upon my life," said Carton, smiling, "I find that easier to comprehend
8577
in my own mind, than to convey to yours. However, let me try. You
8578
remember a certain famous occasion when I was more drunk than--than
8579
usual?"
8580

8581
"I remember a certain famous occasion when you forced me to confess that
8582
you had been drinking."
8583

8584
"I remember it too. The curse of those occasions is heavy upon me, for I
8585
always remember them. I hope it may be taken into account one day,
8586
when all days are at an end for me! Don't be alarmed; I am not going to
8587
preach."
8588

8589
"I am not at all alarmed. Earnestness in you, is anything but alarming
8590
to me."
8591

8592
"Ah!" said Carton, with a careless wave of his hand, as if he waved that
8593
away. "On the drunken occasion in question (one of a large number, as
8594
you know), I was insufferable about liking you, and not liking you. I
8595
wish you would forget it."
8596

8597
"I forgot it long ago."
8598

8599
"Fashion of speech again! But, Mr. Darnay, oblivion is not so easy to
8600
me, as you represent it to be to you. I have by no means forgotten it,
8601
and a light answer does not help me to forget it."
8602

8603
"If it was a light answer," returned Darnay, "I beg your forgiveness
8604
for it. I had no other object than to turn a slight thing, which, to my
8605
surprise, seems to trouble you too much, aside. I declare to you, on the
8606
faith of a gentleman, that I have long dismissed it from my mind. Good
8607
Heaven, what was there to dismiss! Have I had nothing more important to
8608
remember, in the great service you rendered me that day?"
8609

8610
"As to the great service," said Carton, "I am bound to avow to you, when
8611
you speak of it in that way, that it was mere professional claptrap, I
8612
don't know that I cared what became of you, when I rendered it.--Mind! I
8613
say when I rendered it; I am speaking of the past."
8614

8615
"You make light of the obligation," returned Darnay, "but I will not
8616
quarrel with _your_ light answer."
8617

8618
"Genuine truth, Mr. Darnay, trust me! I have gone aside from my purpose;
8619
I was speaking about our being friends. Now, you know me; you know I am
8620
incapable of all the higher and better flights of men. If you doubt it,
8621
ask Stryver, and he'll tell you so."
8622

8623
"I prefer to form my own opinion, without the aid of his."
8624

8625
"Well! At any rate you know me as a dissolute dog, who has never done
8626
any good, and never will."
8627

8628
"I don't know that you 'never will.'"
8629

8630
"But I do, and you must take my word for it. Well! If you could endure
8631
to have such a worthless fellow, and a fellow of such indifferent
8632
reputation, coming and going at odd times, I should ask that I might be
8633
permitted to come and go as a privileged person here; that I might
8634
be regarded as an useless (and I would add, if it were not for the
8635
resemblance I detected between you and me, an unornamental) piece of
8636
furniture, tolerated for its old service, and taken no notice of. I
8637
doubt if I should abuse the permission. It is a hundred to one if I
8638
should avail myself of it four times in a year. It would satisfy me, I
8639
dare say, to know that I had it."
8640

8641
"Will you try?"
8642

8643
"That is another way of saying that I am placed on the footing I have
8644
indicated. I thank you, Darnay. I may use that freedom with your name?"
8645

8646
"I think so, Carton, by this time."
8647

8648
They shook hands upon it, and Sydney turned away. Within a minute
8649
afterwards, he was, to all outward appearance, as unsubstantial as ever.
8650

8651
When he was gone, and in the course of an evening passed with Miss
8652
Pross, the Doctor, and Mr. Lorry, Charles Darnay made some mention of
8653
this conversation in general terms, and spoke of Sydney Carton as a
8654
problem of carelessness and recklessness. He spoke of him, in short, not
8655
bitterly or meaning to bear hard upon him, but as anybody might who saw
8656
him as he showed himself.
8657

8658
He had no idea that this could dwell in the thoughts of his fair young
8659
wife; but, when he afterwards joined her in their own rooms, he found
8660
her waiting for him with the old pretty lifting of the forehead strongly
8661
marked.
8662

8663
"We are thoughtful to-night!" said Darnay, drawing his arm about her.
8664

8665
"Yes, dearest Charles," with her hands on his breast, and the inquiring
8666
and attentive expression fixed upon him; "we are rather thoughtful
8667
to-night, for we have something on our mind to-night."
8668

8669
"What is it, my Lucie?"
8670

8671
"Will you promise not to press one question on me, if I beg you not to
8672
ask it?"
8673

8674
"Will I promise? What will I not promise to my Love?"
8675

8676
What, indeed, with his hand putting aside the golden hair from the
8677
cheek, and his other hand against the heart that beat for him!
8678

8679
"I think, Charles, poor Mr. Carton deserves more consideration and
8680
respect than you expressed for him to-night."
8681

8682
"Indeed, my own? Why so?"
8683

8684
"That is what you are not to ask me. But I think--I know--he does."
8685

8686
"If you know it, it is enough. What would you have me do, my Life?"
8687

8688
"I would ask you, dearest, to be very generous with him always, and very
8689
lenient on his faults when he is not by. I would ask you to believe that
8690
he has a heart he very, very seldom reveals, and that there are deep
8691
wounds in it. My dear, I have seen it bleeding."
8692

8693
"It is a painful reflection to me," said Charles Darnay, quite
8694
astounded, "that I should have done him any wrong. I never thought this
8695
of him."
8696

8697
"My husband, it is so. I fear he is not to be reclaimed; there is
8698
scarcely a hope that anything in his character or fortunes is reparable
8699
now. But, I am sure that he is capable of good things, gentle things,
8700
even magnanimous things."
8701

8702
She looked so beautiful in the purity of her faith in this lost man,
8703
that her husband could have looked at her as she was for hours.
8704

8705
"And, O my dearest Love!" she urged, clinging nearer to him, laying her
8706
head upon his breast, and raising her eyes to his, "remember how strong
8707
we are in our happiness, and how weak he is in his misery!"
8708

8709
The supplication touched him home. "I will always remember it, dear
8710
Heart! I will remember it as long as I live."
8711

8712
He bent over the golden head, and put the rosy lips to his, and folded
8713
her in his arms. If one forlorn wanderer then pacing the dark streets,
8714
could have heard her innocent disclosure, and could have seen the drops
8715
of pity kissed away by her husband from the soft blue eyes so loving of
8716
that husband, he might have cried to the night--and the words would not
8717
have parted from his lips for the first time--
8718

8719
"God bless her for her sweet compassion!"
8720

8721

8722

8723

8724
XXI. Echoing Footsteps
8725

8726

8727
A wonderful corner for echoes, it has been remarked, that corner where
8728
the Doctor lived. Ever busily winding the golden thread which bound
8729
her husband, and her father, and herself, and her old directress and
8730
companion, in a life of quiet bliss, Lucie sat in the still house in
8731
the tranquilly resounding corner, listening to the echoing footsteps of
8732
years.
8733

8734
At first, there were times, though she was a perfectly happy young wife,
8735
when her work would slowly fall from her hands, and her eyes would be
8736
dimmed. For, there was something coming in the echoes, something light,
8737
afar off, and scarcely audible yet, that stirred her heart too much.
8738
Fluttering hopes and doubts--hopes, of a love as yet unknown to her:
8739
doubts, of her remaining upon earth, to enjoy that new delight--divided
8740
her breast. Among the echoes then, there would arise the sound of
8741
footsteps at her own early grave; and thoughts of the husband who would
8742
be left so desolate, and who would mourn for her so much, swelled to her
8743
eyes, and broke like waves.
8744

8745
That time passed, and her little Lucie lay on her bosom. Then, among the
8746
advancing echoes, there was the tread of her tiny feet and the sound of
8747
her prattling words. Let greater echoes resound as they would, the young
8748
mother at the cradle side could always hear those coming. They came, and
8749
the shady house was sunny with a child's laugh, and the Divine friend of
8750
children, to whom in her trouble she had confided hers, seemed to take
8751
her child in his arms, as He took the child of old, and made it a sacred
8752
joy to her.
8753

8754
Ever busily winding the golden thread that bound them all together,
8755
weaving the service of her happy influence through the tissue of all
8756
their lives, and making it predominate nowhere, Lucie heard in the
8757
echoes of years none but friendly and soothing sounds. Her husband's
8758
step was strong and prosperous among them; her father's firm and equal.
8759
Lo, Miss Pross, in harness of string, awakening the echoes, as an
8760
unruly charger, whip-corrected, snorting and pawing the earth under the
8761
plane-tree in the garden!
8762

8763
Even when there were sounds of sorrow among the rest, they were not
8764
harsh nor cruel. Even when golden hair, like her own, lay in a halo on a
8765
pillow round the worn face of a little boy, and he said, with a radiant
8766
smile, "Dear papa and mamma, I am very sorry to leave you both, and to
8767
leave my pretty sister; but I am called, and I must go!" those were not
8768
tears all of agony that wetted his young mother's cheek, as the spirit
8769
departed from her embrace that had been entrusted to it. Suffer them and
8770
forbid them not. They see my Father's face. O Father, blessed words!
8771

8772
Thus, the rustling of an Angel's wings got blended with the other
8773
echoes, and they were not wholly of earth, but had in them that breath
8774
of Heaven. Sighs of the winds that blew over a little garden-tomb were
8775
mingled with them also, and both were audible to Lucie, in a hushed
8776
murmur--like the breathing of a summer sea asleep upon a sandy shore--as
8777
the little Lucie, comically studious at the task of the morning, or
8778
dressing a doll at her mother's footstool, chattered in the tongues of
8779
the Two Cities that were blended in her life.
8780

8781
The Echoes rarely answered to the actual tread of Sydney Carton. Some
8782
half-dozen times a year, at most, he claimed his privilege of coming in
8783
uninvited, and would sit among them through the evening, as he had once
8784
done often. He never came there heated with wine. And one other thing
8785
regarding him was whispered in the echoes, which has been whispered by
8786
all true echoes for ages and ages.
8787

8788
No man ever really loved a woman, lost her, and knew her with a
8789
blameless though an unchanged mind, when she was a wife and a mother,
8790
but her children had a strange sympathy with him--an instinctive
8791
delicacy of pity for him. What fine hidden sensibilities are touched in
8792
such a case, no echoes tell; but it is so, and it was so here. Carton
8793
was the first stranger to whom little Lucie held out her chubby arms,
8794
and he kept his place with her as she grew. The little boy had spoken of
8795
him, almost at the last. "Poor Carton! Kiss him for me!"
8796

8797
Mr. Stryver shouldered his way through the law, like some great engine
8798
forcing itself through turbid water, and dragged his useful friend in
8799
his wake, like a boat towed astern. As the boat so favoured is usually
8800
in a rough plight, and mostly under water, so, Sydney had a swamped
8801
life of it. But, easy and strong custom, unhappily so much easier and
8802
stronger in him than any stimulating sense of desert or disgrace, made
8803
it the life he was to lead; and he no more thought of emerging from his
8804
state of lion's jackal, than any real jackal may be supposed to think of
8805
rising to be a lion. Stryver was rich; had married a florid widow with
8806
property and three boys, who had nothing particularly shining about them
8807
but the straight hair of their dumpling heads.
8808

8809
These three young gentlemen, Mr. Stryver, exuding patronage of the most
8810
offensive quality from every pore, had walked before him like three
8811
sheep to the quiet corner in Soho, and had offered as pupils to
8812
Lucie's husband: delicately saying "Halloa! here are three lumps of
8813
bread-and-cheese towards your matrimonial picnic, Darnay!" The polite
8814
rejection of the three lumps of bread-and-cheese had quite bloated Mr.
8815
Stryver with indignation, which he afterwards turned to account in the
8816
training of the young gentlemen, by directing them to beware of the
8817
pride of Beggars, like that tutor-fellow. He was also in the habit of
8818
declaiming to Mrs. Stryver, over his full-bodied wine, on the arts
8819
Mrs. Darnay had once put in practice to "catch" him, and on the
8820
diamond-cut-diamond arts in himself, madam, which had rendered him "not
8821
to be caught." Some of his King's Bench familiars, who were occasionally
8822
parties to the full-bodied wine and the lie, excused him for the
8823
latter by saying that he had told it so often, that he believed
8824
it himself--which is surely such an incorrigible aggravation of an
8825
originally bad offence, as to justify any such offender's being carried
8826
off to some suitably retired spot, and there hanged out of the way.
8827

8828
These were among the echoes to which Lucie, sometimes pensive, sometimes
8829
amused and laughing, listened in the echoing corner, until her little
8830
daughter was six years old. How near to her heart the echoes of her
8831
child's tread came, and those of her own dear father's, always active
8832
and self-possessed, and those of her dear husband's, need not be told.
8833
Nor, how the lightest echo of their united home, directed by herself
8834
with such a wise and elegant thrift that it was more abundant than any
8835
waste, was music to her. Nor, how there were echoes all about her, sweet
8836
in her ears, of the many times her father had told her that he found her
8837
more devoted to him married (if that could be) than single, and of the
8838
many times her husband had said to her that no cares and duties seemed
8839
to divide her love for him or her help to him, and asked her "What is
8840
the magic secret, my darling, of your being everything to all of us,
8841
as if there were only one of us, yet never seeming to be hurried, or to
8842
have too much to do?"
8843

8844
But, there were other echoes, from a distance, that rumbled menacingly
8845
in the corner all through this space of time. And it was now, about
8846
little Lucie's sixth birthday, that they began to have an awful sound,
8847
as of a great storm in France with a dreadful sea rising.
8848

8849
On a night in mid-July, one thousand seven hundred and eighty-nine, Mr.
8850
Lorry came in late, from Tellson's, and sat himself down by Lucie and
8851
her husband in the dark window. It was a hot, wild night, and they were
8852
all three reminded of the old Sunday night when they had looked at the
8853
lightning from the same place.
8854

8855
"I began to think," said Mr. Lorry, pushing his brown wig back, "that
8856
I should have to pass the night at Tellson's. We have been so full of
8857
business all day, that we have not known what to do first, or which way
8858
to turn. There is such an uneasiness in Paris, that we have actually a
8859
run of confidence upon us! Our customers over there, seem not to be able
8860
to confide their property to us fast enough. There is positively a mania
8861
among some of them for sending it to England."
8862

8863
"That has a bad look," said Darnay--
8864

8865
"A bad look, you say, my dear Darnay? Yes, but we don't know what reason
8866
there is in it. People are so unreasonable! Some of us at Tellson's are
8867
getting old, and we really can't be troubled out of the ordinary course
8868
without due occasion."
8869

8870
"Still," said Darnay, "you know how gloomy and threatening the sky is."
8871

8872
"I know that, to be sure," assented Mr. Lorry, trying to persuade
8873
himself that his sweet temper was soured, and that he grumbled, "but I
8874
am determined to be peevish after my long day's botheration. Where is
8875
Manette?"
8876

8877
"Here he is," said the Doctor, entering the dark room at the moment.
8878

8879
"I am quite glad you are at home; for these hurries and forebodings by
8880
which I have been surrounded all day long, have made me nervous without
8881
reason. You are not going out, I hope?"
8882

8883
"No; I am going to play backgammon with you, if you like," said the
8884
Doctor.
8885

8886
"I don't think I do like, if I may speak my mind. I am not fit to be
8887
pitted against you to-night. Is the teaboard still there, Lucie? I can't
8888
see."
8889

8890
"Of course, it has been kept for you."
8891

8892
"Thank ye, my dear. The precious child is safe in bed?"
8893

8894
"And sleeping soundly."
8895

8896
"That's right; all safe and well! I don't know why anything should be
8897
otherwise than safe and well here, thank God; but I have been so put out
8898
all day, and I am not as young as I was! My tea, my dear! Thank ye. Now,
8899
come and take your place in the circle, and let us sit quiet, and hear
8900
the echoes about which you have your theory."
8901

8902
"Not a theory; it was a fancy."
8903

8904
"A fancy, then, my wise pet," said Mr. Lorry, patting her hand. "They
8905
are very numerous and very loud, though, are they not? Only hear them!"
8906

8907
Headlong, mad, and dangerous footsteps to force their way into anybody's
8908
life, footsteps not easily made clean again if once stained red, the
8909
footsteps raging in Saint Antoine afar off, as the little circle sat in
8910
the dark London window.
8911

8912
Saint Antoine had been, that morning, a vast dusky mass of scarecrows
8913
heaving to and fro, with frequent gleams of light above the billowy
8914
heads, where steel blades and bayonets shone in the sun. A tremendous
8915
roar arose from the throat of Saint Antoine, and a forest of naked arms
8916
struggled in the air like shrivelled branches of trees in a winter wind:
8917
all the fingers convulsively clutching at every weapon or semblance of a
8918
weapon that was thrown up from the depths below, no matter how far off.
8919

8920
Who gave them out, whence they last came, where they began, through what
8921
agency they crookedly quivered and jerked, scores at a time, over the
8922
heads of the crowd, like a kind of lightning, no eye in the throng could
8923
have told; but, muskets were being distributed--so were cartridges,
8924
powder, and ball, bars of iron and wood, knives, axes, pikes, every
8925
weapon that distracted ingenuity could discover or devise. People who
8926
could lay hold of nothing else, set themselves with bleeding hands to
8927
force stones and bricks out of their places in walls. Every pulse and
8928
heart in Saint Antoine was on high-fever strain and at high-fever heat.
8929
Every living creature there held life as of no account, and was demented
8930
with a passionate readiness to sacrifice it.
8931

8932
As a whirlpool of boiling waters has a centre point, so, all this raging
8933
circled round Defarge's wine-shop, and every human drop in the caldron
8934
had a tendency to be sucked towards the vortex where Defarge himself,
8935
already begrimed with gunpowder and sweat, issued orders, issued arms,
8936
thrust this man back, dragged this man forward, disarmed one to arm
8937
another, laboured and strove in the thickest of the uproar.
8938

8939
"Keep near to me, Jacques Three," cried Defarge; "and do you, Jacques
8940
One and Two, separate and put yourselves at the head of as many of these
8941
patriots as you can. Where is my wife?"
8942

8943
"Eh, well! Here you see me!" said madame, composed as ever, but not
8944
knitting to-day. Madame's resolute right hand was occupied with an axe,
8945
in place of the usual softer implements, and in her girdle were a pistol
8946
and a cruel knife.
8947

8948
"Where do you go, my wife?"
8949

8950
"I go," said madame, "with you at present. You shall see me at the head
8951
of women, by-and-bye."
8952

8953
"Come, then!" cried Defarge, in a resounding voice. "Patriots and
8954
friends, we are ready! The Bastille!"
8955

8956
With a roar that sounded as if all the breath in France had been shaped
8957
into the detested word, the living sea rose, wave on wave, depth on
8958
depth, and overflowed the city to that point. Alarm-bells ringing, drums
8959
beating, the sea raging and thundering on its new beach, the attack
8960
began.
8961

8962
Deep ditches, double drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight great
8963
towers, cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. Through the fire and through
8964
the smoke--in the fire and in the smoke, for the sea cast him up against
8965
a cannon, and on the instant he became a cannonier--Defarge of the
8966
wine-shop worked like a manful soldier, Two fierce hours.
8967

8968
Deep ditch, single drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight great towers,
8969
cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. One drawbridge down! "Work, comrades
8970
all, work! Work, Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques One Thousand, Jacques
8971
Two Thousand, Jacques Five-and-Twenty Thousand; in the name of all
8972
the Angels or the Devils--which you prefer--work!" Thus Defarge of the
8973
wine-shop, still at his gun, which had long grown hot.
8974

8975
"To me, women!" cried madame his wife. "What! We can kill as well as
8976
the men when the place is taken!" And to her, with a shrill thirsty
8977
cry, trooping women variously armed, but all armed alike in hunger and
8978
revenge.
8979

8980
Cannon, muskets, fire and smoke; but, still the deep ditch, the single
8981
drawbridge, the massive stone walls, and the eight great towers. Slight
8982
displacements of the raging sea, made by the falling wounded. Flashing
8983
weapons, blazing torches, smoking waggonloads of wet straw, hard work
8984
at neighbouring barricades in all directions, shrieks, volleys,
8985
execrations, bravery without stint, boom smash and rattle, and the
8986
furious sounding of the living sea; but, still the deep ditch, and the
8987
single drawbridge, and the massive stone walls, and the eight great
8988
towers, and still Defarge of the wine-shop at his gun, grown doubly hot
8989
by the service of Four fierce hours.
8990

8991
A white flag from within the fortress, and a parley--this dimly
8992
perceptible through the raging storm, nothing audible in it--suddenly
8993
the sea rose immeasurably wider and higher, and swept Defarge of the
8994
wine-shop over the lowered drawbridge, past the massive stone outer
8995
walls, in among the eight great towers surrendered!
8996

8997
So resistless was the force of the ocean bearing him on, that even to
8998
draw his breath or turn his head was as impracticable as if he had been
8999
struggling in the surf at the South Sea, until he was landed in the
9000
outer courtyard of the Bastille. There, against an angle of a wall, he
9001
made a struggle to look about him. Jacques Three was nearly at his side;
9002
Madame Defarge, still heading some of her women, was visible in the
9003
inner distance, and her knife was in her hand. Everywhere was tumult,
9004
exultation, deafening and maniacal bewilderment, astounding noise, yet
9005
furious dumb-show.
9006

9007
"The Prisoners!"
9008

9009
"The Records!"
9010

9011
"The secret cells!"
9012

9013
"The instruments of torture!"
9014

9015
"The Prisoners!"
9016

9017
Of all these cries, and ten thousand incoherences, "The Prisoners!" was
9018
the cry most taken up by the sea that rushed in, as if there were an
9019
eternity of people, as well as of time and space. When the foremost
9020
billows rolled past, bearing the prison officers with them, and
9021
threatening them all with instant death if any secret nook remained
9022
undisclosed, Defarge laid his strong hand on the breast of one of
9023
these men--a man with a grey head, who had a lighted torch in his
9024
hand--separated him from the rest, and got him between himself and the
9025
wall.
9026

9027
"Show me the North Tower!" said Defarge. "Quick!"
9028

9029
"I will faithfully," replied the man, "if you will come with me. But
9030
there is no one there."
9031

9032
"What is the meaning of One Hundred and Five, North Tower?" asked
9033
Defarge. "Quick!"
9034

9035
"The meaning, monsieur?"
9036

9037
"Does it mean a captive, or a place of captivity? Or do you mean that I
9038
shall strike you dead?"
9039

9040
"Kill him!" croaked Jacques Three, who had come close up.
9041

9042
"Monsieur, it is a cell."
9043

9044
"Show it me!"
9045

9046
"Pass this way, then."
9047

9048
Jacques Three, with his usual craving on him, and evidently disappointed
9049
by the dialogue taking a turn that did not seem to promise bloodshed,
9050
held by Defarge's arm as he held by the turnkey's. Their three heads had
9051
been close together during this brief discourse, and it had been as much
9052
as they could do to hear one another, even then: so tremendous was the
9053
noise of the living ocean, in its irruption into the Fortress, and
9054
its inundation of the courts and passages and staircases. All around
9055
outside, too, it beat the walls with a deep, hoarse roar, from which,
9056
occasionally, some partial shouts of tumult broke and leaped into the
9057
air like spray.
9058

9059
Through gloomy vaults where the light of day had never shone, past
9060
hideous doors of dark dens and cages, down cavernous flights of steps,
9061
and again up steep rugged ascents of stone and brick, more like dry
9062
waterfalls than staircases, Defarge, the turnkey, and Jacques Three,
9063
linked hand and arm, went with all the speed they could make. Here and
9064
there, especially at first, the inundation started on them and swept by;
9065
but when they had done descending, and were winding and climbing up a
9066
tower, they were alone. Hemmed in here by the massive thickness of walls
9067
and arches, the storm within the fortress and without was only audible
9068
to them in a dull, subdued way, as if the noise out of which they had
9069
come had almost destroyed their sense of hearing.
9070

9071
The turnkey stopped at a low door, put a key in a clashing lock, swung
9072
the door slowly open, and said, as they all bent their heads and passed
9073
in:
9074

9075
"One hundred and five, North Tower!"
9076

9077
There was a small, heavily-grated, unglazed window high in the wall,
9078
with a stone screen before it, so that the sky could be only seen by
9079
stooping low and looking up. There was a small chimney, heavily barred
9080
across, a few feet within. There was a heap of old feathery wood-ashes
9081
on the hearth. There was a stool, and table, and a straw bed. There were
9082
the four blackened walls, and a rusted iron ring in one of them.
9083

9084
"Pass that torch slowly along these walls, that I may see them," said
9085
Defarge to the turnkey.
9086

9087
The man obeyed, and Defarge followed the light closely with his eyes.
9088

9089
"Stop!--Look here, Jacques!"
9090

9091
"A. M.!" croaked Jacques Three, as he read greedily.
9092

9093
"Alexandre Manette," said Defarge in his ear, following the letters
9094
with his swart forefinger, deeply engrained with gunpowder. "And here he
9095
wrote 'a poor physician.' And it was he, without doubt, who scratched
9096
a calendar on this stone. What is that in your hand? A crowbar? Give it
9097
me!"
9098

9099
He had still the linstock of his gun in his own hand. He made a sudden
9100
exchange of the two instruments, and turning on the worm-eaten stool and
9101
table, beat them to pieces in a few blows.
9102

9103
"Hold the light higher!" he said, wrathfully, to the turnkey. "Look
9104
among those fragments with care, Jacques. And see! Here is my knife,"
9105
 throwing it to him; "rip open that bed, and search the straw. Hold the
9106
light higher, you!"
9107

9108
With a menacing look at the turnkey he crawled upon the hearth, and,
9109
peering up the chimney, struck and prised at its sides with the crowbar,
9110
and worked at the iron grating across it. In a few minutes, some mortar
9111
and dust came dropping down, which he averted his face to avoid; and
9112
in it, and in the old wood-ashes, and in a crevice in the chimney
9113
into which his weapon had slipped or wrought itself, he groped with a
9114
cautious touch.
9115

9116
"Nothing in the wood, and nothing in the straw, Jacques?"
9117

9118
"Nothing."
9119

9120
"Let us collect them together, in the middle of the cell. So! Light
9121
them, you!"
9122

9123
The turnkey fired the little pile, which blazed high and hot. Stooping
9124
again to come out at the low-arched door, they left it burning, and
9125
retraced their way to the courtyard; seeming to recover their sense
9126
of hearing as they came down, until they were in the raging flood once
9127
more.
9128

9129
They found it surging and tossing, in quest of Defarge himself. Saint
9130
Antoine was clamorous to have its wine-shop keeper foremost in the guard
9131
upon the governor who had defended the Bastille and shot the people.
9132
Otherwise, the governor would not be marched to the Hotel de Ville for
9133
judgment. Otherwise, the governor would escape, and the people's
9134
blood (suddenly of some value, after many years of worthlessness) be
9135
unavenged.
9136

9137
In the howling universe of passion and contention that seemed to
9138
encompass this grim old officer conspicuous in his grey coat and red
9139
decoration, there was but one quite steady figure, and that was a
9140
woman's. "See, there is my husband!" she cried, pointing him out.
9141
"See Defarge!" She stood immovable close to the grim old officer, and
9142
remained immovable close to him; remained immovable close to him through
9143
the streets, as Defarge and the rest bore him along; remained immovable
9144
close to him when he was got near his destination, and began to
9145
be struck at from behind; remained immovable close to him when the
9146
long-gathering rain of stabs and blows fell heavy; was so close to him
9147
when he dropped dead under it, that, suddenly animated, she put her foot
9148
upon his neck, and with her cruel knife--long ready--hewed off his head.
9149

9150
The hour was come, when Saint Antoine was to execute his horrible idea
9151
of hoisting up men for lamps to show what he could be and do. Saint
9152
Antoine's blood was up, and the blood of tyranny and domination by the
9153
iron hand was down--down on the steps of the Hotel de Ville where the
9154
governor's body lay--down on the sole of the shoe of Madame Defarge
9155
where she had trodden on the body to steady it for mutilation. "Lower
9156
the lamp yonder!" cried Saint Antoine, after glaring round for a new
9157
means of death; "here is one of his soldiers to be left on guard!" The
9158
swinging sentinel was posted, and the sea rushed on.
9159

9160
The sea of black and threatening waters, and of destructive upheaving
9161
of wave against wave, whose depths were yet unfathomed and whose forces
9162
were yet unknown. The remorseless sea of turbulently swaying shapes,
9163
voices of vengeance, and faces hardened in the furnaces of suffering
9164
until the touch of pity could make no mark on them.
9165

9166
But, in the ocean of faces where every fierce and furious expression was
9167
in vivid life, there were two groups of faces--each seven in number--so
9168
fixedly contrasting with the rest, that never did sea roll which bore
9169
more memorable wrecks with it. Seven faces of prisoners, suddenly
9170
released by the storm that had burst their tomb, were carried high
9171
overhead: all scared, all lost, all wondering and amazed, as if the Last
9172
Day were come, and those who rejoiced around them were lost spirits.
9173
Other seven faces there were, carried higher, seven dead faces, whose
9174
drooping eyelids and half-seen eyes awaited the Last Day. Impassive
9175
faces, yet with a suspended--not an abolished--expression on them;
9176
faces, rather, in a fearful pause, as having yet to raise the dropped
9177
lids of the eyes, and bear witness with the bloodless lips, "THOU DIDST
9178
IT!"
9179

9180
Seven prisoners released, seven gory heads on pikes, the keys of the
9181
accursed fortress of the eight strong towers, some discovered letters
9182
and other memorials of prisoners of old time, long dead of broken
9183
hearts,--such, and such--like, the loudly echoing footsteps of Saint
9184
Antoine escort through the Paris streets in mid-July, one thousand seven
9185
hundred and eighty-nine. Now, Heaven defeat the fancy of Lucie Darnay,
9186
and keep these feet far out of her life! For, they are headlong, mad,
9187
and dangerous; and in the years so long after the breaking of the cask
9188
at Defarge's wine-shop door, they are not easily purified when once
9189
stained red.
9190

9191

9192

9193

9194
XXII. The Sea Still Rises
9195

9196

9197
Haggard Saint Antoine had had only one exultant week, in which to soften
9198
his modicum of hard and bitter bread to such extent as he could, with
9199
the relish of fraternal embraces and congratulations, when Madame
9200
Defarge sat at her counter, as usual, presiding over the customers.
9201
Madame Defarge wore no rose in her head, for the great brotherhood of
9202
Spies had become, even in one short week, extremely chary of trusting
9203
themselves to the saint's mercies. The lamps across his streets had a
9204
portentously elastic swing with them.
9205

9206
Madame Defarge, with her arms folded, sat in the morning light and heat,
9207
contemplating the wine-shop and the street. In both, there were several
9208
knots of loungers, squalid and miserable, but now with a manifest sense
9209
of power enthroned on their distress. The raggedest nightcap, awry on
9210
the wretchedest head, had this crooked significance in it: "I know how
9211
hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to support life in myself;
9212
but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to
9213
destroy life in you?" Every lean bare arm, that had been without work
9214
before, had this work always ready for it now, that it could strike.
9215
The fingers of the knitting women were vicious, with the experience that
9216
they could tear. There was a change in the appearance of Saint Antoine;
9217
the image had been hammering into this for hundreds of years, and the
9218
last finishing blows had told mightily on the expression.
9219

9220
Madame Defarge sat observing it, with such suppressed approval as was
9221
to be desired in the leader of the Saint Antoine women. One of her
9222
sisterhood knitted beside her. The short, rather plump wife of a starved
9223
grocer, and the mother of two children withal, this lieutenant had
9224
already earned the complimentary name of The Vengeance.
9225

9226
"Hark!" said The Vengeance. "Listen, then! Who comes?"
9227

9228
As if a train of powder laid from the outermost bound of Saint Antoine
9229
Quarter to the wine-shop door, had been suddenly fired, a fast-spreading
9230
murmur came rushing along.
9231

9232
"It is Defarge," said madame. "Silence, patriots!"
9233

9234
Defarge came in breathless, pulled off a red cap he wore, and looked
9235
around him! "Listen, everywhere!" said madame again. "Listen to him!"
9236
 Defarge stood, panting, against a background of eager eyes and open
9237
mouths, formed outside the door; all those within the wine-shop had
9238
sprung to their feet.
9239

9240
"Say then, my husband. What is it?"
9241

9242
"News from the other world!"
9243

9244
"How, then?" cried madame, contemptuously. "The other world?"
9245

9246
"Does everybody here recall old Foulon, who told the famished people
9247
that they might eat grass, and who died, and went to Hell?"
9248

9249
"Everybody!" from all throats.
9250

9251
"The news is of him. He is among us!"
9252

9253
"Among us!" from the universal throat again. "And dead?"
9254

9255
"Not dead! He feared us so much--and with reason--that he caused himself
9256
to be represented as dead, and had a grand mock-funeral. But they have
9257
found him alive, hiding in the country, and have brought him in. I have
9258
seen him but now, on his way to the Hotel de Ville, a prisoner. I have
9259
said that he had reason to fear us. Say all! _Had_ he reason?"
9260

9261
Wretched old sinner of more than threescore years and ten, if he had
9262
never known it yet, he would have known it in his heart of hearts if he
9263
could have heard the answering cry.
9264

9265
A moment of profound silence followed. Defarge and his wife looked
9266
steadfastly at one another. The Vengeance stooped, and the jar of a drum
9267
was heard as she moved it at her feet behind the counter.
9268

9269
"Patriots!" said Defarge, in a determined voice, "are we ready?"
9270

9271
Instantly Madame Defarge's knife was in her girdle; the drum was beating
9272
in the streets, as if it and a drummer had flown together by magic; and
9273
The Vengeance, uttering terrific shrieks, and flinging her arms about
9274
her head like all the forty Furies at once, was tearing from house to
9275
house, rousing the women.
9276

9277
The men were terrible, in the bloody-minded anger with which they looked
9278
from windows, caught up what arms they had, and came pouring down into
9279
the streets; but, the women were a sight to chill the boldest. From
9280
such household occupations as their bare poverty yielded, from their
9281
children, from their aged and their sick crouching on the bare ground
9282
famished and naked, they ran out with streaming hair, urging one
9283
another, and themselves, to madness with the wildest cries and actions.
9284
Villain Foulon taken, my sister! Old Foulon taken, my mother! Miscreant
9285
Foulon taken, my daughter! Then, a score of others ran into the midst of
9286
these, beating their breasts, tearing their hair, and screaming, Foulon
9287
alive! Foulon who told the starving people they might eat grass! Foulon
9288
who told my old father that he might eat grass, when I had no bread
9289
to give him! Foulon who told my baby it might suck grass, when these
9290
breasts were dry with want! O mother of God, this Foulon! O Heaven our
9291
suffering! Hear me, my dead baby and my withered father: I swear on my
9292
knees, on these stones, to avenge you on Foulon! Husbands, and brothers,
9293
and young men, Give us the blood of Foulon, Give us the head of Foulon,
9294
Give us the heart of Foulon, Give us the body and soul of Foulon, Rend
9295
Foulon to pieces, and dig him into the ground, that grass may grow from
9296
him! With these cries, numbers of the women, lashed into blind frenzy,
9297
whirled about, striking and tearing at their own friends until they
9298
dropped into a passionate swoon, and were only saved by the men
9299
belonging to them from being trampled under foot.
9300

9301
Nevertheless, not a moment was lost; not a moment! This Foulon was at
9302
the Hotel de Ville, and might be loosed. Never, if Saint Antoine knew
9303
his own sufferings, insults, and wrongs! Armed men and women flocked out
9304
of the Quarter so fast, and drew even these last dregs after them with
9305
such a force of suction, that within a quarter of an hour there was not
9306
a human creature in Saint Antoine's bosom but a few old crones and the
9307
wailing children.
9308

9309
No. They were all by that time choking the Hall of Examination where
9310
this old man, ugly and wicked, was, and overflowing into the adjacent
9311
open space and streets. The Defarges, husband and wife, The Vengeance,
9312
and Jacques Three, were in the first press, and at no great distance
9313
from him in the Hall.
9314

9315
"See!" cried madame, pointing with her knife. "See the old villain bound
9316
with ropes. That was well done to tie a bunch of grass upon his back.
9317
Ha, ha! That was well done. Let him eat it now!" Madame put her knife
9318
under her arm, and clapped her hands as at a play.
9319

9320
The people immediately behind Madame Defarge, explaining the cause of
9321
her satisfaction to those behind them, and those again explaining to
9322
others, and those to others, the neighbouring streets resounded with the
9323
clapping of hands. Similarly, during two or three hours of drawl,
9324
and the winnowing of many bushels of words, Madame Defarge's frequent
9325
expressions of impatience were taken up, with marvellous quickness, at
9326
a distance: the more readily, because certain men who had by some
9327
wonderful exercise of agility climbed up the external architecture
9328
to look in from the windows, knew Madame Defarge well, and acted as a
9329
telegraph between her and the crowd outside the building.
9330

9331
At length the sun rose so high that it struck a kindly ray as of hope or
9332
protection, directly down upon the old prisoner's head. The favour was
9333
too much to bear; in an instant the barrier of dust and chaff that had
9334
stood surprisingly long, went to the winds, and Saint Antoine had got
9335
him!
9336

9337
It was known directly, to the furthest confines of the crowd. Defarge
9338
had but sprung over a railing and a table, and folded the miserable
9339
wretch in a deadly embrace--Madame Defarge had but followed and turned
9340
her hand in one of the ropes with which he was tied--The Vengeance and
9341
Jacques Three were not yet up with them, and the men at the windows
9342
had not yet swooped into the Hall, like birds of prey from their high
9343
perches--when the cry seemed to go up, all over the city, "Bring him
9344
out! Bring him to the lamp!"
9345

9346
Down, and up, and head foremost on the steps of the building; now, on
9347
his knees; now, on his feet; now, on his back; dragged, and struck at,
9348
and stifled by the bunches of grass and straw that were thrust into his
9349
face by hundreds of hands; torn, bruised, panting, bleeding, yet always
9350
entreating and beseeching for mercy; now full of vehement agony of
9351
action, with a small clear space about him as the people drew one
9352
another back that they might see; now, a log of dead wood drawn through
9353
a forest of legs; he was hauled to the nearest street corner where one
9354
of the fatal lamps swung, and there Madame Defarge let him go--as a cat
9355
might have done to a mouse--and silently and composedly looked at him
9356
while they made ready, and while he besought her: the women passionately
9357
screeching at him all the time, and the men sternly calling out to have
9358
him killed with grass in his mouth. Once, he went aloft, and the rope
9359
broke, and they caught him shrieking; twice, he went aloft, and the rope
9360
broke, and they caught him shrieking; then, the rope was merciful, and
9361
held him, and his head was soon upon a pike, with grass enough in the
9362
mouth for all Saint Antoine to dance at the sight of.
9363

9364
Nor was this the end of the day's bad work, for Saint Antoine so shouted
9365
and danced his angry blood up, that it boiled again, on hearing when
9366
the day closed in that the son-in-law of the despatched, another of the
9367
people's enemies and insulters, was coming into Paris under a guard
9368
five hundred strong, in cavalry alone. Saint Antoine wrote his crimes
9369
on flaring sheets of paper, seized him--would have torn him out of the
9370
breast of an army to bear Foulon company--set his head and heart on
9371
pikes, and carried the three spoils of the day, in Wolf-procession
9372
through the streets.
9373

9374
Not before dark night did the men and women come back to the children,
9375
wailing and breadless. Then, the miserable bakers' shops were beset by
9376
long files of them, patiently waiting to buy bad bread; and while
9377
they waited with stomachs faint and empty, they beguiled the time by
9378
embracing one another on the triumphs of the day, and achieving them
9379
again in gossip. Gradually, these strings of ragged people shortened and
9380
frayed away; and then poor lights began to shine in high windows, and
9381
slender fires were made in the streets, at which neighbours cooked in
9382
common, afterwards supping at their doors.
9383

9384
Scanty and insufficient suppers those, and innocent of meat, as of
9385
most other sauce to wretched bread. Yet, human fellowship infused
9386
some nourishment into the flinty viands, and struck some sparks of
9387
cheerfulness out of them. Fathers and mothers who had had their full
9388
share in the worst of the day, played gently with their meagre children;
9389
and lovers, with such a world around them and before them, loved and
9390
hoped.
9391

9392
It was almost morning, when Defarge's wine-shop parted with its last
9393
knot of customers, and Monsieur Defarge said to madame his wife, in
9394
husky tones, while fastening the door:
9395

9396
"At last it is come, my dear!"
9397

9398
"Eh well!" returned madame. "Almost."
9399

9400
Saint Antoine slept, the Defarges slept: even The Vengeance slept with
9401
her starved grocer, and the drum was at rest. The drum's was the
9402
only voice in Saint Antoine that blood and hurry had not changed. The
9403
Vengeance, as custodian of the drum, could have wakened him up and had
9404
the same speech out of him as before the Bastille fell, or old Foulon
9405
was seized; not so with the hoarse tones of the men and women in Saint
9406
Antoine's bosom.
9407

9408

9409

9410

9411
XXIII. Fire Rises
9412

9413

9414
There was a change on the village where the fountain fell, and where
9415
the mender of roads went forth daily to hammer out of the stones on the
9416
highway such morsels of bread as might serve for patches to hold his
9417
poor ignorant soul and his poor reduced body together. The prison on the
9418
crag was not so dominant as of yore; there were soldiers to guard it,
9419
but not many; there were officers to guard the soldiers, but not one of
9420
them knew what his men would do--beyond this: that it would probably not
9421
be what he was ordered.
9422

9423
Far and wide lay a ruined country, yielding nothing but desolation.
9424
Every green leaf, every blade of grass and blade of grain, was as
9425
shrivelled and poor as the miserable people. Everything was bowed down,
9426
dejected, oppressed, and broken. Habitations, fences, domesticated
9427
animals, men, women, children, and the soil that bore them--all worn
9428
out.
9429

9430
Monseigneur (often a most worthy individual gentleman) was a national
9431
blessing, gave a chivalrous tone to things, was a polite example of
9432
luxurious and shining life, and a great deal more to equal purpose;
9433
nevertheless, Monseigneur as a class had, somehow or other, brought
9434
things to this. Strange that Creation, designed expressly for
9435
Monseigneur, should be so soon wrung dry and squeezed out! There must
9436
be something short-sighted in the eternal arrangements, surely! Thus it
9437
was, however; and the last drop of blood having been extracted from the
9438
flints, and the last screw of the rack having been turned so often that
9439
its purchase crumbled, and it now turned and turned with nothing
9440
to bite, Monseigneur began to run away from a phenomenon so low and
9441
unaccountable.
9442

9443
But, this was not the change on the village, and on many a village like
9444
it. For scores of years gone by, Monseigneur had squeezed it and wrung
9445
it, and had seldom graced it with his presence except for the pleasures
9446
of the chase--now, found in hunting the people; now, found in hunting
9447
the beasts, for whose preservation Monseigneur made edifying spaces
9448
of barbarous and barren wilderness. No. The change consisted in
9449
the appearance of strange faces of low caste, rather than in the
9450
disappearance of the high caste, chiselled, and otherwise beautified and
9451
beautifying features of Monseigneur.
9452

9453
For, in these times, as the mender of roads worked, solitary, in the
9454
dust, not often troubling himself to reflect that dust he was and
9455
to dust he must return, being for the most part too much occupied in
9456
thinking how little he had for supper and how much more he would eat if
9457
he had it--in these times, as he raised his eyes from his lonely labour,
9458
and viewed the prospect, he would see some rough figure approaching on
9459
foot, the like of which was once a rarity in those parts, but was now
9460
a frequent presence. As it advanced, the mender of roads would discern
9461
without surprise, that it was a shaggy-haired man, of almost barbarian
9462
aspect, tall, in wooden shoes that were clumsy even to the eyes of a
9463
mender of roads, grim, rough, swart, steeped in the mud and dust of many
9464
highways, dank with the marshy moisture of many low grounds, sprinkled
9465
with the thorns and leaves and moss of many byways through woods.
9466

9467
Such a man came upon him, like a ghost, at noon in the July weather,
9468
as he sat on his heap of stones under a bank, taking such shelter as he
9469
could get from a shower of hail.
9470

9471
The man looked at him, looked at the village in the hollow, at the mill,
9472
and at the prison on the crag. When he had identified these objects
9473
in what benighted mind he had, he said, in a dialect that was just
9474
intelligible:
9475

9476
"How goes it, Jacques?"
9477

9478
"All well, Jacques."
9479

9480
"Touch then!"
9481

9482
They joined hands, and the man sat down on the heap of stones.
9483

9484
"No dinner?"
9485

9486
"Nothing but supper now," said the mender of roads, with a hungry face.
9487

9488
"It is the fashion," growled the man. "I meet no dinner anywhere."
9489

9490
He took out a blackened pipe, filled it, lighted it with flint and
9491
steel, pulled at it until it was in a bright glow: then, suddenly held
9492
it from him and dropped something into it from between his finger and
9493
thumb, that blazed and went out in a puff of smoke.
9494

9495
"Touch then." It was the turn of the mender of roads to say it this
9496
time, after observing these operations. They again joined hands.
9497

9498
"To-night?" said the mender of roads.
9499

9500
"To-night," said the man, putting the pipe in his mouth.
9501

9502
"Where?"
9503

9504
"Here."
9505

9506
He and the mender of roads sat on the heap of stones looking silently at
9507
one another, with the hail driving in between them like a pigmy charge
9508
of bayonets, until the sky began to clear over the village.
9509

9510
"Show me!" said the traveller then, moving to the brow of the hill.
9511

9512
"See!" returned the mender of roads, with extended finger. "You go down
9513
here, and straight through the street, and past the fountain--"
9514

9515
"To the Devil with all that!" interrupted the other, rolling his eye
9516
over the landscape. "_I_ go through no streets and past no fountains.
9517
Well?"
9518

9519
"Well! About two leagues beyond the summit of that hill above the
9520
village."
9521

9522
"Good. When do you cease to work?"
9523

9524
"At sunset."
9525

9526
"Will you wake me, before departing? I have walked two nights without
9527
resting. Let me finish my pipe, and I shall sleep like a child. Will you
9528
wake me?"
9529

9530
"Surely."
9531

9532
The wayfarer smoked his pipe out, put it in his breast, slipped off his
9533
great wooden shoes, and lay down on his back on the heap of stones. He
9534
was fast asleep directly.
9535

9536
As the road-mender plied his dusty labour, and the hail-clouds, rolling
9537
away, revealed bright bars and streaks of sky which were responded to
9538
by silver gleams upon the landscape, the little man (who wore a red cap
9539
now, in place of his blue one) seemed fascinated by the figure on the
9540
heap of stones. His eyes were so often turned towards it, that he used
9541
his tools mechanically, and, one would have said, to very poor account.
9542
The bronze face, the shaggy black hair and beard, the coarse woollen
9543
red cap, the rough medley dress of home-spun stuff and hairy skins of
9544
beasts, the powerful frame attenuated by spare living, and the sullen
9545
and desperate compression of the lips in sleep, inspired the mender
9546
of roads with awe. The traveller had travelled far, and his feet were
9547
footsore, and his ankles chafed and bleeding; his great shoes, stuffed
9548
with leaves and grass, had been heavy to drag over the many long
9549
leagues, and his clothes were chafed into holes, as he himself was into
9550
sores. Stooping down beside him, the road-mender tried to get a peep at
9551
secret weapons in his breast or where not; but, in vain, for he slept
9552
with his arms crossed upon him, and set as resolutely as his lips.
9553
Fortified towns with their stockades, guard-houses, gates, trenches, and
9554
drawbridges, seemed to the mender of roads, to be so much air as against
9555
this figure. And when he lifted his eyes from it to the horizon and
9556
looked around, he saw in his small fancy similar figures, stopped by no
9557
obstacle, tending to centres all over France.
9558

9559
The man slept on, indifferent to showers of hail and intervals of
9560
brightness, to sunshine on his face and shadow, to the paltering lumps
9561
of dull ice on his body and the diamonds into which the sun changed
9562
them, until the sun was low in the west, and the sky was glowing. Then,
9563
the mender of roads having got his tools together and all things ready
9564
to go down into the village, roused him.
9565

9566
"Good!" said the sleeper, rising on his elbow. "Two leagues beyond the
9567
summit of the hill?"
9568

9569
"About."
9570

9571
"About. Good!"
9572

9573
The mender of roads went home, with the dust going on before him
9574
according to the set of the wind, and was soon at the fountain,
9575
squeezing himself in among the lean kine brought there to drink, and
9576
appearing even to whisper to them in his whispering to all the village.
9577
When the village had taken its poor supper, it did not creep to bed,
9578
as it usually did, but came out of doors again, and remained there. A
9579
curious contagion of whispering was upon it, and also, when it gathered
9580
together at the fountain in the dark, another curious contagion of
9581
looking expectantly at the sky in one direction only. Monsieur Gabelle,
9582
chief functionary of the place, became uneasy; went out on his house-top
9583
alone, and looked in that direction too; glanced down from behind his
9584
chimneys at the darkening faces by the fountain below, and sent word to
9585
the sacristan who kept the keys of the church, that there might be need
9586
to ring the tocsin by-and-bye.
9587

9588
The night deepened. The trees environing the old chateau, keeping its
9589
solitary state apart, moved in a rising wind, as though they threatened
9590
the pile of building massive and dark in the gloom. Up the two terrace
9591
flights of steps the rain ran wildly, and beat at the great door, like a
9592
swift messenger rousing those within; uneasy rushes of wind went through
9593
the hall, among the old spears and knives, and passed lamenting up the
9594
stairs, and shook the curtains of the bed where the last Marquis
9595
had slept. East, West, North, and South, through the woods, four
9596
heavy-treading, unkempt figures crushed the high grass and cracked the
9597
branches, striding on cautiously to come together in the courtyard. Four
9598
lights broke out there, and moved away in different directions, and all
9599
was black again.
9600

9601
But, not for long. Presently, the chateau began to make itself strangely
9602
visible by some light of its own, as though it were growing luminous.
9603
Then, a flickering streak played behind the architecture of the front,
9604
picking out transparent places, and showing where balustrades, arches,
9605
and windows were. Then it soared higher, and grew broader and brighter.
9606
Soon, from a score of the great windows, flames burst forth, and the
9607
stone faces awakened, stared out of fire.
9608

9609
A faint murmur arose about the house from the few people who were left
9610
there, and there was a saddling of a horse and riding away. There was
9611
spurring and splashing through the darkness, and bridle was drawn in the
9612
space by the village fountain, and the horse in a foam stood at Monsieur
9613
Gabelle's door. "Help, Gabelle! Help, every one!" The tocsin rang
9614
impatiently, but other help (if that were any) there was none. The
9615
mender of roads, and two hundred and fifty particular friends, stood
9616
with folded arms at the fountain, looking at the pillar of fire in the
9617
sky. "It must be forty feet high," said they, grimly; and never moved.
9618

9619
The rider from the chateau, and the horse in a foam, clattered away
9620
through the village, and galloped up the stony steep, to the prison on
9621
the crag. At the gate, a group of officers were looking at the fire;
9622
removed from them, a group of soldiers. "Help, gentlemen--officers! The
9623
chateau is on fire; valuable objects may be saved from the flames by
9624
timely aid! Help, help!" The officers looked towards the soldiers who
9625
looked at the fire; gave no orders; and answered, with shrugs and biting
9626
of lips, "It must burn."
9627

9628
As the rider rattled down the hill again and through the street, the
9629
village was illuminating. The mender of roads, and the two hundred and
9630
fifty particular friends, inspired as one man and woman by the idea of
9631
lighting up, had darted into their houses, and were putting candles in
9632
every dull little pane of glass. The general scarcity of everything,
9633
occasioned candles to be borrowed in a rather peremptory manner of
9634
Monsieur Gabelle; and in a moment of reluctance and hesitation on
9635
that functionary's part, the mender of roads, once so submissive to
9636
authority, had remarked that carriages were good to make bonfires with,
9637
and that post-horses would roast.
9638

9639
The chateau was left to itself to flame and burn. In the roaring and
9640
raging of the conflagration, a red-hot wind, driving straight from the
9641
infernal regions, seemed to be blowing the edifice away. With the rising
9642
and falling of the blaze, the stone faces showed as if they were in
9643
torment. When great masses of stone and timber fell, the face with the
9644
two dints in the nose became obscured: anon struggled out of the smoke
9645
again, as if it were the face of the cruel Marquis, burning at the stake
9646
and contending with the fire.
9647

9648
The chateau burned; the nearest trees, laid hold of by the fire,
9649
scorched and shrivelled; trees at a distance, fired by the four fierce
9650
figures, begirt the blazing edifice with a new forest of smoke. Molten
9651
lead and iron boiled in the marble basin of the fountain; the water ran
9652
dry; the extinguisher tops of the towers vanished like ice before the
9653
heat, and trickled down into four rugged wells of flame. Great rents and
9654
splits branched out in the solid walls, like crystallisation; stupefied
9655
birds wheeled about and dropped into the furnace; four fierce figures
9656
trudged away, East, West, North, and South, along the night-enshrouded
9657
roads, guided by the beacon they had lighted, towards their next
9658
destination. The illuminated village had seized hold of the tocsin, and,
9659
abolishing the lawful ringer, rang for joy.
9660

9661
Not only that; but the village, light-headed with famine, fire, and
9662
bell-ringing, and bethinking itself that Monsieur Gabelle had to do with
9663
the collection of rent and taxes--though it was but a small instalment
9664
of taxes, and no rent at all, that Gabelle had got in those latter
9665
days--became impatient for an interview with him, and, surrounding his
9666
house, summoned him to come forth for personal conference. Whereupon,
9667
Monsieur Gabelle did heavily bar his door, and retire to hold counsel
9668
with himself. The result of that conference was, that Gabelle again
9669
withdrew himself to his housetop behind his stack of chimneys; this time
9670
resolved, if his door were broken in (he was a small Southern man
9671
of retaliative temperament), to pitch himself head foremost over the
9672
parapet, and crush a man or two below.
9673

9674
Probably, Monsieur Gabelle passed a long night up there, with the
9675
distant chateau for fire and candle, and the beating at his door,
9676
combined with the joy-ringing, for music; not to mention his having an
9677
ill-omened lamp slung across the road before his posting-house gate,
9678
which the village showed a lively inclination to displace in his favour.
9679
A trying suspense, to be passing a whole summer night on the brink of
9680
the black ocean, ready to take that plunge into it upon which Monsieur
9681
Gabelle had resolved! But, the friendly dawn appearing at last, and the
9682
rush-candles of the village guttering out, the people happily dispersed,
9683
and Monsieur Gabelle came down bringing his life with him for that
9684
while.
9685

9686
Within a hundred miles, and in the light of other fires, there were
9687
other functionaries less fortunate, that night and other nights, whom
9688
the rising sun found hanging across once-peaceful streets, where they
9689
had been born and bred; also, there were other villagers and townspeople
9690
less fortunate than the mender of roads and his fellows, upon whom the
9691
functionaries and soldiery turned with success, and whom they strung up
9692
in their turn. But, the fierce figures were steadily wending East, West,
9693
North, and South, be that as it would; and whosoever hung, fire burned.
9694
The altitude of the gallows that would turn to water and quench it,
9695
no functionary, by any stretch of mathematics, was able to calculate
9696
successfully.
9697

9698

9699

9700

9701
XXIV. Drawn to the Loadstone Rock
9702

9703

9704
In such risings of fire and risings of sea--the firm earth shaken by
9705
the rushes of an angry ocean which had now no ebb, but was always on the
9706
flow, higher and higher, to the terror and wonder of the beholders on
9707
the shore--three years of tempest were consumed. Three more birthdays
9708
of little Lucie had been woven by the golden thread into the peaceful
9709
tissue of the life of her home.
9710

9711
Many a night and many a day had its inmates listened to the echoes in
9712
the corner, with hearts that failed them when they heard the thronging
9713
feet. For, the footsteps had become to their minds as the footsteps of
9714
a people, tumultuous under a red flag and with their country declared in
9715
danger, changed into wild beasts, by terrible enchantment long persisted
9716
in.
9717

9718
Monseigneur, as a class, had dissociated himself from the phenomenon of
9719
his not being appreciated: of his being so little wanted in France, as
9720
to incur considerable danger of receiving his dismissal from it, and
9721
this life together. Like the fabled rustic who raised the Devil with
9722
infinite pains, and was so terrified at the sight of him that he could
9723
ask the Enemy no question, but immediately fled; so, Monseigneur, after
9724
boldly reading the Lord's Prayer backwards for a great number of years,
9725
and performing many other potent spells for compelling the Evil One, no
9726
sooner beheld him in his terrors than he took to his noble heels.
9727

9728
The shining Bull's Eye of the Court was gone, or it would have been the
9729
mark for a hurricane of national bullets. It had never been a good
9730
eye to see with--had long had the mote in it of Lucifer's pride,
9731
Sardanapalus's luxury, and a mole's blindness--but it had dropped
9732
out and was gone. The Court, from that exclusive inner circle to its
9733
outermost rotten ring of intrigue, corruption, and dissimulation, was
9734
all gone together. Royalty was gone; had been besieged in its Palace and
9735
"suspended," when the last tidings came over.
9736

9737
The August of the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety-two was
9738
come, and Monseigneur was by this time scattered far and wide.
9739

9740
As was natural, the head-quarters and great gathering-place of
9741
Monseigneur, in London, was Tellson's Bank. Spirits are supposed to
9742
haunt the places where their bodies most resorted, and Monseigneur
9743
without a guinea haunted the spot where his guineas used to be.
9744
Moreover, it was the spot to which such French intelligence as was most
9745
to be relied upon, came quickest. Again: Tellson's was a munificent
9746
house, and extended great liberality to old customers who had fallen
9747
from their high estate. Again: those nobles who had seen the coming
9748
storm in time, and anticipating plunder or confiscation, had made
9749
provident remittances to Tellson's, were always to be heard of there
9750
by their needy brethren. To which it must be added that every new-comer
9751
from France reported himself and his tidings at Tellson's, almost as
9752
a matter of course. For such variety of reasons, Tellson's was at that
9753
time, as to French intelligence, a kind of High Exchange; and this
9754
was so well known to the public, and the inquiries made there were in
9755
consequence so numerous, that Tellson's sometimes wrote the latest news
9756
out in a line or so and posted it in the Bank windows, for all who ran
9757
through Temple Bar to read.
9758

9759
On a steaming, misty afternoon, Mr. Lorry sat at his desk, and Charles
9760
Darnay stood leaning on it, talking with him in a low voice. The
9761
penitential den once set apart for interviews with the House, was now
9762
the news-Exchange, and was filled to overflowing. It was within half an
9763
hour or so of the time of closing.
9764

9765
"But, although you are the youngest man that ever lived," said Charles
9766
Darnay, rather hesitating, "I must still suggest to you--"
9767

9768
"I understand. That I am too old?" said Mr. Lorry.
9769

9770
"Unsettled weather, a long journey, uncertain means of travelling, a
9771
disorganised country, a city that may not be even safe for you."
9772

9773
"My dear Charles," said Mr. Lorry, with cheerful confidence, "you touch
9774
some of the reasons for my going: not for my staying away. It is safe
9775
enough for me; nobody will care to interfere with an old fellow of hard
9776
upon fourscore when there are so many people there much better worth
9777
interfering with. As to its being a disorganised city, if it were not a
9778
disorganised city there would be no occasion to send somebody from our
9779
House here to our House there, who knows the city and the business, of
9780
old, and is in Tellson's confidence. As to the uncertain travelling, the
9781
long journey, and the winter weather, if I were not prepared to submit
9782
myself to a few inconveniences for the sake of Tellson's, after all
9783
these years, who ought to be?"
9784

9785
"I wish I were going myself," said Charles Darnay, somewhat restlessly,
9786
and like one thinking aloud.
9787

9788
"Indeed! You are a pretty fellow to object and advise!" exclaimed Mr.
9789
Lorry. "You wish you were going yourself? And you a Frenchman born? You
9790
are a wise counsellor."
9791

9792
"My dear Mr. Lorry, it is because I am a Frenchman born, that the
9793
thought (which I did not mean to utter here, however) has passed through
9794
my mind often. One cannot help thinking, having had some sympathy for
9795
the miserable people, and having abandoned something to them," he spoke
9796
here in his former thoughtful manner, "that one might be listened to,
9797
and might have the power to persuade to some restraint. Only last night,
9798
after you had left us, when I was talking to Lucie--"
9799

9800
"When you were talking to Lucie," Mr. Lorry repeated. "Yes. I wonder you
9801
are not ashamed to mention the name of Lucie! Wishing you were going to
9802
France at this time of day!"
9803

9804
"However, I am not going," said Charles Darnay, with a smile. "It is
9805
more to the purpose that you say you are."
9806

9807
"And I am, in plain reality. The truth is, my dear Charles," Mr. Lorry
9808
glanced at the distant House, and lowered his voice, "you can have no
9809
conception of the difficulty with which our business is transacted, and
9810
of the peril in which our books and papers over yonder are involved. The
9811
Lord above knows what the compromising consequences would be to numbers
9812
of people, if some of our documents were seized or destroyed; and they
9813
might be, at any time, you know, for who can say that Paris is not set
9814
afire to-day, or sacked to-morrow! Now, a judicious selection from these
9815
with the least possible delay, and the burying of them, or otherwise
9816
getting of them out of harm's way, is within the power (without loss of
9817
precious time) of scarcely any one but myself, if any one. And shall
9818
I hang back, when Tellson's knows this and says this--Tellson's, whose
9819
bread I have eaten these sixty years--because I am a little stiff about
9820
the joints? Why, I am a boy, sir, to half a dozen old codgers here!"
9821

9822
"How I admire the gallantry of your youthful spirit, Mr. Lorry."
9823

9824
"Tut! Nonsense, sir!--And, my dear Charles," said Mr. Lorry, glancing at
9825
the House again, "you are to remember, that getting things out of
9826
Paris at this present time, no matter what things, is next to an
9827
impossibility. Papers and precious matters were this very day brought
9828
to us here (I speak in strict confidence; it is not business-like to
9829
whisper it, even to you), by the strangest bearers you can imagine,
9830
every one of whom had his head hanging on by a single hair as he passed
9831
the Barriers. At another time, our parcels would come and go, as easily
9832
as in business-like Old England; but now, everything is stopped."
9833

9834
"And do you really go to-night?"
9835

9836
"I really go to-night, for the case has become too pressing to admit of
9837
delay."
9838

9839
"And do you take no one with you?"
9840

9841
"All sorts of people have been proposed to me, but I will have nothing
9842
to say to any of them. I intend to take Jerry. Jerry has been my
9843
bodyguard on Sunday nights for a long time past and I am used to him.
9844
Nobody will suspect Jerry of being anything but an English bull-dog, or
9845
of having any design in his head but to fly at anybody who touches his
9846
master."
9847

9848
"I must say again that I heartily admire your gallantry and
9849
youthfulness."
9850

9851
"I must say again, nonsense, nonsense! When I have executed this little
9852
commission, I shall, perhaps, accept Tellson's proposal to retire and
9853
live at my ease. Time enough, then, to think about growing old."
9854

9855
This dialogue had taken place at Mr. Lorry's usual desk, with
9856
Monseigneur swarming within a yard or two of it, boastful of what he
9857
would do to avenge himself on the rascal-people before long. It was too
9858
much the way of Monseigneur under his reverses as a refugee, and it
9859
was much too much the way of native British orthodoxy, to talk of this
9860
terrible Revolution as if it were the only harvest ever known under
9861
the skies that had not been sown--as if nothing had ever been done, or
9862
omitted to be done, that had led to it--as if observers of the wretched
9863
millions in France, and of the misused and perverted resources that
9864
should have made them prosperous, had not seen it inevitably coming,
9865
years before, and had not in plain words recorded what they saw. Such
9866
vapouring, combined with the extravagant plots of Monseigneur for the
9867
restoration of a state of things that had utterly exhausted itself,
9868
and worn out Heaven and earth as well as itself, was hard to be endured
9869
without some remonstrance by any sane man who knew the truth. And it was
9870
such vapouring all about his ears, like a troublesome confusion of blood
9871
in his own head, added to a latent uneasiness in his mind, which had
9872
already made Charles Darnay restless, and which still kept him so.
9873

9874
Among the talkers, was Stryver, of the King's Bench Bar, far on his
9875
way to state promotion, and, therefore, loud on the theme: broaching
9876
to Monseigneur, his devices for blowing the people up and exterminating
9877
them from the face of the earth, and doing without them: and for
9878
accomplishing many similar objects akin in their nature to the abolition
9879
of eagles by sprinkling salt on the tails of the race. Him, Darnay heard
9880
with a particular feeling of objection; and Darnay stood divided between
9881
going away that he might hear no more, and remaining to interpose his
9882
word, when the thing that was to be, went on to shape itself out.
9883

9884
The House approached Mr. Lorry, and laying a soiled and unopened letter
9885
before him, asked if he had yet discovered any traces of the person to
9886
whom it was addressed? The House laid the letter down so close to Darnay
9887
that he saw the direction--the more quickly because it was his own right
9888
name. The address, turned into English, ran:
9889

9890
"Very pressing. To Monsieur heretofore the Marquis St. Evremonde, of
9891
France. Confided to the cares of Messrs. Tellson and Co., Bankers,
9892
London, England."
9893

9894
On the marriage morning, Doctor Manette had made it his one urgent and
9895
express request to Charles Darnay, that the secret of this name should
9896
be--unless he, the Doctor, dissolved the obligation--kept inviolate
9897
between them. Nobody else knew it to be his name; his own wife had no
9898
suspicion of the fact; Mr. Lorry could have none.
9899

9900
"No," said Mr. Lorry, in reply to the House; "I have referred it,
9901
I think, to everybody now here, and no one can tell me where this
9902
gentleman is to be found."
9903

9904
The hands of the clock verging upon the hour of closing the Bank, there
9905
was a general set of the current of talkers past Mr. Lorry's desk. He
9906
held the letter out inquiringly; and Monseigneur looked at it, in the
9907
person of this plotting and indignant refugee; and Monseigneur looked at
9908
it in the person of that plotting and indignant refugee; and This, That,
9909
and The Other, all had something disparaging to say, in French or in
9910
English, concerning the Marquis who was not to be found.
9911

9912
"Nephew, I believe--but in any case degenerate successor--of the
9913
polished Marquis who was murdered," said one. "Happy to say, I never
9914
knew him."
9915

9916
"A craven who abandoned his post," said another--this Monseigneur had
9917
been got out of Paris, legs uppermost and half suffocated, in a load of
9918
hay--"some years ago."
9919

9920
"Infected with the new doctrines," said a third, eyeing the direction
9921
through his glass in passing; "set himself in opposition to the last
9922
Marquis, abandoned the estates when he inherited them, and left them to
9923
the ruffian herd. They will recompense him now, I hope, as he deserves."
9924

9925
"Hey?" cried the blatant Stryver. "Did he though? Is that the sort of
9926
fellow? Let us look at his infamous name. D--n the fellow!"
9927

9928
Darnay, unable to restrain himself any longer, touched Mr. Stryver on
9929
the shoulder, and said:
9930

9931
"I know the fellow."
9932

9933
"Do you, by Jupiter?" said Stryver. "I am sorry for it."
9934

9935
"Why?"
9936

9937
"Why, Mr. Darnay? D'ye hear what he did? Don't ask, why, in these
9938
times."
9939

9940
"But I do ask why?"
9941

9942
"Then I tell you again, Mr. Darnay, I am sorry for it. I am sorry to
9943
hear you putting any such extraordinary questions. Here is a fellow,
9944
who, infected by the most pestilent and blasphemous code of devilry that
9945
ever was known, abandoned his property to the vilest scum of the earth
9946
that ever did murder by wholesale, and you ask me why I am sorry that a
9947
man who instructs youth knows him? Well, but I'll answer you. I am sorry
9948
because I believe there is contamination in such a scoundrel. That's
9949
why."
9950

9951
Mindful of the secret, Darnay with great difficulty checked himself, and
9952
said: "You may not understand the gentleman."
9953

9954
"I understand how to put _you_ in a corner, Mr. Darnay," said Bully
9955
Stryver, "and I'll do it. If this fellow is a gentleman, I _don't_
9956
understand him. You may tell him so, with my compliments. You may also
9957
tell him, from me, that after abandoning his worldly goods and position
9958
to this butcherly mob, I wonder he is not at the head of them. But, no,
9959
gentlemen," said Stryver, looking all round, and snapping his fingers,
9960
"I know something of human nature, and I tell you that you'll never
9961
find a fellow like this fellow, trusting himself to the mercies of such
9962
precious _protégés_. No, gentlemen; he'll always show 'em a clean pair
9963
of heels very early in the scuffle, and sneak away."
9964

9965
With those words, and a final snap of his fingers, Mr. Stryver
9966
shouldered himself into Fleet-street, amidst the general approbation of
9967
his hearers. Mr. Lorry and Charles Darnay were left alone at the desk,
9968
in the general departure from the Bank.
9969

9970
"Will you take charge of the letter?" said Mr. Lorry. "You know where to
9971
deliver it?"
9972

9973
"I do."
9974

9975
"Will you undertake to explain, that we suppose it to have been
9976
addressed here, on the chance of our knowing where to forward it, and
9977
that it has been here some time?"
9978

9979
"I will do so. Do you start for Paris from here?"
9980

9981
"From here, at eight."
9982

9983
"I will come back, to see you off."
9984

9985
Very ill at ease with himself, and with Stryver and most other men,
9986
Darnay made the best of his way into the quiet of the Temple, opened the
9987
letter, and read it. These were its contents:
9988

9989

9990
"Prison of the Abbaye, Paris.
9991

9992
"June 21, 1792. "MONSIEUR HERETOFORE THE MARQUIS.
9993

9994
"After having long been in danger of my life at the hands of the
9995
village, I have been seized, with great violence and indignity, and
9996
brought a long journey on foot to Paris. On the road I have suffered a
9997
great deal. Nor is that all; my house has been destroyed--razed to the
9998
ground.
9999

10000
"The crime for which I am imprisoned, Monsieur heretofore the Marquis,
10001
and for which I shall be summoned before the tribunal, and shall lose my
10002
life (without your so generous help), is, they tell me, treason against
10003
the majesty of the people, in that I have acted against them for an
10004
emigrant. It is in vain I represent that I have acted for them, and not
10005
against, according to your commands. It is in vain I represent that,
10006
before the sequestration of emigrant property, I had remitted the
10007
imposts they had ceased to pay; that I had collected no rent; that I had
10008
had recourse to no process. The only response is, that I have acted for
10009
an emigrant, and where is that emigrant?
10010

10011
"Ah! most gracious Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, where is that
10012
emigrant? I cry in my sleep where is he? I demand of Heaven, will he
10013
not come to deliver me? No answer. Ah Monsieur heretofore the Marquis,
10014
I send my desolate cry across the sea, hoping it may perhaps reach your
10015
ears through the great bank of Tilson known at Paris!
10016

10017
"For the love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of the honour of
10018
your noble name, I supplicate you, Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, to
10019
succour and release me. My fault is, that I have been true to you. Oh
10020
Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, I pray you be you true to me!
10021

10022
"From this prison here of horror, whence I every hour tend nearer and
10023
nearer to destruction, I send you, Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, the
10024
assurance of my dolorous and unhappy service.
10025

10026
"Your afflicted,
10027

10028
"Gabelle."
10029

10030

10031
The latent uneasiness in Darnay's mind was roused to vigourous life
10032
by this letter. The peril of an old servant and a good one, whose
10033
only crime was fidelity to himself and his family, stared him so
10034
reproachfully in the face, that, as he walked to and fro in the Temple
10035
considering what to do, he almost hid his face from the passersby.
10036

10037
He knew very well, that in his horror of the deed which had culminated
10038
the bad deeds and bad reputation of the old family house, in his
10039
resentful suspicions of his uncle, and in the aversion with which his
10040
conscience regarded the crumbling fabric that he was supposed to uphold,
10041
he had acted imperfectly. He knew very well, that in his love for Lucie,
10042
his renunciation of his social place, though by no means new to his own
10043
mind, had been hurried and incomplete. He knew that he ought to have
10044
systematically worked it out and supervised it, and that he had meant to
10045
do it, and that it had never been done.
10046

10047
The happiness of his own chosen English home, the necessity of being
10048
always actively employed, the swift changes and troubles of the time
10049
which had followed on one another so fast, that the events of this week
10050
annihilated the immature plans of last week, and the events of the week
10051
following made all new again; he knew very well, that to the force of
10052
these circumstances he had yielded:--not without disquiet, but still
10053
without continuous and accumulating resistance. That he had watched
10054
the times for a time of action, and that they had shifted and struggled
10055
until the time had gone by, and the nobility were trooping from
10056
France by every highway and byway, and their property was in course of
10057
confiscation and destruction, and their very names were blotting out,
10058
was as well known to himself as it could be to any new authority in
10059
France that might impeach him for it.
10060

10061
But, he had oppressed no man, he had imprisoned no man; he was so
10062
far from having harshly exacted payment of his dues, that he had
10063
relinquished them of his own will, thrown himself on a world with no
10064
favour in it, won his own private place there, and earned his own
10065
bread. Monsieur Gabelle had held the impoverished and involved estate
10066
on written instructions, to spare the people, to give them what little
10067
there was to give--such fuel as the heavy creditors would let them have
10068
in the winter, and such produce as could be saved from the same grip in
10069
the summer--and no doubt he had put the fact in plea and proof, for his
10070
own safety, so that it could not but appear now.
10071

10072
This favoured the desperate resolution Charles Darnay had begun to make,
10073
that he would go to Paris.
10074

10075
Yes. Like the mariner in the old story, the winds and streams had driven
10076
him within the influence of the Loadstone Rock, and it was drawing him
10077
to itself, and he must go. Everything that arose before his mind drifted
10078
him on, faster and faster, more and more steadily, to the terrible
10079
attraction. His latent uneasiness had been, that bad aims were being
10080
worked out in his own unhappy land by bad instruments, and that he who
10081
could not fail to know that he was better than they, was not there,
10082
trying to do something to stay bloodshed, and assert the claims of mercy
10083
and humanity. With this uneasiness half stifled, and half reproaching
10084
him, he had been brought to the pointed comparison of himself with the
10085
brave old gentleman in whom duty was so strong; upon that comparison
10086
(injurious to himself) had instantly followed the sneers of Monseigneur,
10087
which had stung him bitterly, and those of Stryver, which above all were
10088
coarse and galling, for old reasons. Upon those, had followed Gabelle's
10089
letter: the appeal of an innocent prisoner, in danger of death, to his
10090
justice, honour, and good name.
10091

10092
His resolution was made. He must go to Paris.
10093

10094
Yes. The Loadstone Rock was drawing him, and he must sail on, until he
10095
struck. He knew of no rock; he saw hardly any danger. The intention
10096
with which he had done what he had done, even although he had left
10097
it incomplete, presented it before him in an aspect that would be
10098
gratefully acknowledged in France on his presenting himself to assert
10099
it. Then, that glorious vision of doing good, which is so often the
10100
sanguine mirage of so many good minds, arose before him, and he even
10101
saw himself in the illusion with some influence to guide this raging
10102
Revolution that was running so fearfully wild.
10103

10104
As he walked to and fro with his resolution made, he considered that
10105
neither Lucie nor her father must know of it until he was gone.
10106
Lucie should be spared the pain of separation; and her father, always
10107
reluctant to turn his thoughts towards the dangerous ground of old,
10108
should come to the knowledge of the step, as a step taken, and not in
10109
the balance of suspense and doubt. How much of the incompleteness of his
10110
situation was referable to her father, through the painful anxiety
10111
to avoid reviving old associations of France in his mind, he did not
10112
discuss with himself. But, that circumstance too, had had its influence
10113
in his course.
10114

10115
He walked to and fro, with thoughts very busy, until it was time to
10116
return to Tellson's and take leave of Mr. Lorry. As soon as he arrived
10117
in Paris he would present himself to this old friend, but he must say
10118
nothing of his intention now.
10119

10120
A carriage with post-horses was ready at the Bank door, and Jerry was
10121
booted and equipped.
10122

10123
"I have delivered that letter," said Charles Darnay to Mr. Lorry. "I
10124
would not consent to your being charged with any written answer, but
10125
perhaps you will take a verbal one?"
10126

10127
"That I will, and readily," said Mr. Lorry, "if it is not dangerous."
10128

10129
"Not at all. Though it is to a prisoner in the Abbaye."
10130

10131
"What is his name?" said Mr. Lorry, with his open pocket-book in his
10132
hand.
10133

10134
"Gabelle."
10135

10136
"Gabelle. And what is the message to the unfortunate Gabelle in prison?"
10137

10138
"Simply, 'that he has received the letter, and will come.'"
10139

10140
"Any time mentioned?"
10141

10142
"He will start upon his journey to-morrow night."
10143

10144
"Any person mentioned?"
10145

10146
"No."
10147

10148
He helped Mr. Lorry to wrap himself in a number of coats and cloaks,
10149
and went out with him from the warm atmosphere of the old Bank, into the
10150
misty air of Fleet-street. "My love to Lucie, and to little Lucie," said
10151
Mr. Lorry at parting, "and take precious care of them till I come back."
10152
 Charles Darnay shook his head and doubtfully smiled, as the carriage
10153
rolled away.
10154

10155
That night--it was the fourteenth of August--he sat up late, and wrote
10156
two fervent letters; one was to Lucie, explaining the strong obligation
10157
he was under to go to Paris, and showing her, at length, the reasons
10158
that he had, for feeling confident that he could become involved in no
10159
personal danger there; the other was to the Doctor, confiding Lucie and
10160
their dear child to his care, and dwelling on the same topics with the
10161
strongest assurances. To both, he wrote that he would despatch letters
10162
in proof of his safety, immediately after his arrival.
10163

10164
It was a hard day, that day of being among them, with the first
10165
reservation of their joint lives on his mind. It was a hard matter to
10166
preserve the innocent deceit of which they were profoundly unsuspicious.
10167
But, an affectionate glance at his wife, so happy and busy, made him
10168
resolute not to tell her what impended (he had been half moved to do it,
10169
so strange it was to him to act in anything without her quiet aid), and
10170
the day passed quickly. Early in the evening he embraced her, and her
10171
scarcely less dear namesake, pretending that he would return by-and-bye
10172
(an imaginary engagement took him out, and he had secreted a valise
10173
of clothes ready), and so he emerged into the heavy mist of the heavy
10174
streets, with a heavier heart.
10175

10176
The unseen force was drawing him fast to itself, now, and all the tides
10177
and winds were setting straight and strong towards it. He left his
10178
two letters with a trusty porter, to be delivered half an hour before
10179
midnight, and no sooner; took horse for Dover; and began his journey.
10180
"For the love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of the honour of
10181
your noble name!" was the poor prisoner's cry with which he strengthened
10182
his sinking heart, as he left all that was dear on earth behind him, and
10183
floated away for the Loadstone Rock.
10184

10185

10186
The end of the second book.
10187

10188

10189

10190

10191

10192
Book the Third--the Track of a Storm
10193

10194

10195

10196

10197
I. In Secret
10198

10199

10200
The traveller fared slowly on his way, who fared towards Paris from
10201
England in the autumn of the year one thousand seven hundred and
10202
ninety-two. More than enough of bad roads, bad equipages, and bad
10203
horses, he would have encountered to delay him, though the fallen and
10204
unfortunate King of France had been upon his throne in all his glory;
10205
but, the changed times were fraught with other obstacles than
10206
these. Every town-gate and village taxing-house had its band of
10207
citizen-patriots, with their national muskets in a most explosive state
10208
of readiness, who stopped all comers and goers, cross-questioned them,
10209
inspected their papers, looked for their names in lists of their own,
10210
turned them back, or sent them on, or stopped them and laid them in
10211
hold, as their capricious judgment or fancy deemed best for the dawning
10212
Republic One and Indivisible, of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or
10213
Death.
10214

10215
A very few French leagues of his journey were accomplished, when Charles
10216
Darnay began to perceive that for him along these country roads there
10217
was no hope of return until he should have been declared a good citizen
10218
at Paris. Whatever might befall now, he must on to his journey's end.
10219
Not a mean village closed upon him, not a common barrier dropped across
10220
the road behind him, but he knew it to be another iron door in
10221
the series that was barred between him and England. The universal
10222
watchfulness so encompassed him, that if he had been taken in a net,
10223
or were being forwarded to his destination in a cage, he could not have
10224
felt his freedom more completely gone.
10225

10226
This universal watchfulness not only stopped him on the highway twenty
10227
times in a stage, but retarded his progress twenty times in a day, by
10228
riding after him and taking him back, riding before him and stopping him
10229
by anticipation, riding with him and keeping him in charge. He had been
10230
days upon his journey in France alone, when he went to bed tired out, in
10231
a little town on the high road, still a long way from Paris.
10232

10233
Nothing but the production of the afflicted Gabelle's letter from his
10234
prison of the Abbaye would have got him on so far. His difficulty at the
10235
guard-house in this small place had been such, that he felt his journey
10236
to have come to a crisis. And he was, therefore, as little surprised as
10237
a man could be, to find himself awakened at the small inn to which he
10238
had been remitted until morning, in the middle of the night.
10239

10240
Awakened by a timid local functionary and three armed patriots in rough
10241
red caps and with pipes in their mouths, who sat down on the bed.
10242

10243
"Emigrant," said the functionary, "I am going to send you on to Paris,
10244
under an escort."
10245

10246
"Citizen, I desire nothing more than to get to Paris, though I could
10247
dispense with the escort."
10248

10249
"Silence!" growled a red-cap, striking at the coverlet with the butt-end
10250
of his musket. "Peace, aristocrat!"
10251

10252
"It is as the good patriot says," observed the timid functionary. "You
10253
are an aristocrat, and must have an escort--and must pay for it."
10254

10255
"I have no choice," said Charles Darnay.
10256

10257
"Choice! Listen to him!" cried the same scowling red-cap. "As if it was
10258
not a favour to be protected from the lamp-iron!"
10259

10260
"It is always as the good patriot says," observed the functionary. "Rise
10261
and dress yourself, emigrant."
10262

10263
Darnay complied, and was taken back to the guard-house, where other
10264
patriots in rough red caps were smoking, drinking, and sleeping, by
10265
a watch-fire. Here he paid a heavy price for his escort, and hence he
10266
started with it on the wet, wet roads at three o'clock in the morning.
10267

10268
The escort were two mounted patriots in red caps and tri-coloured
10269
cockades, armed with national muskets and sabres, who rode one on either
10270
side of him.
10271

10272
The escorted governed his own horse, but a loose line was attached to
10273
his bridle, the end of which one of the patriots kept girded round his
10274
wrist. In this state they set forth with the sharp rain driving in their
10275
faces: clattering at a heavy dragoon trot over the uneven town pavement,
10276
and out upon the mire-deep roads. In this state they traversed without
10277
change, except of horses and pace, all the mire-deep leagues that lay
10278
between them and the capital.
10279

10280
They travelled in the night, halting an hour or two after daybreak, and
10281
lying by until the twilight fell. The escort were so wretchedly clothed,
10282
that they twisted straw round their bare legs, and thatched their ragged
10283
shoulders to keep the wet off. Apart from the personal discomfort of
10284
being so attended, and apart from such considerations of present danger
10285
as arose from one of the patriots being chronically drunk, and carrying
10286
his musket very recklessly, Charles Darnay did not allow the restraint
10287
that was laid upon him to awaken any serious fears in his breast; for,
10288
he reasoned with himself that it could have no reference to the merits
10289
of an individual case that was not yet stated, and of representations,
10290
confirmable by the prisoner in the Abbaye, that were not yet made.
10291

10292
But when they came to the town of Beauvais--which they did at eventide,
10293
when the streets were filled with people--he could not conceal from
10294
himself that the aspect of affairs was very alarming. An ominous crowd
10295
gathered to see him dismount of the posting-yard, and many voices called
10296
out loudly, "Down with the emigrant!"
10297

10298
He stopped in the act of swinging himself out of his saddle, and,
10299
resuming it as his safest place, said:
10300

10301
"Emigrant, my friends! Do you not see me here, in France, of my own
10302
will?"
10303

10304
"You are a cursed emigrant," cried a farrier, making at him in a
10305
furious manner through the press, hammer in hand; "and you are a cursed
10306
aristocrat!"
10307

10308
The postmaster interposed himself between this man and the rider's
10309
bridle (at which he was evidently making), and soothingly said, "Let him
10310
be; let him be! He will be judged at Paris."
10311

10312
"Judged!" repeated the farrier, swinging his hammer. "Ay! and condemned
10313
as a traitor." At this the crowd roared approval.
10314

10315
Checking the postmaster, who was for turning his horse's head to the
10316
yard (the drunken patriot sat composedly in his saddle looking on, with
10317
the line round his wrist), Darnay said, as soon as he could make his
10318
voice heard:
10319

10320
"Friends, you deceive yourselves, or you are deceived. I am not a
10321
traitor."
10322

10323
"He lies!" cried the smith. "He is a traitor since the decree. His life
10324
is forfeit to the people. His cursed life is not his own!"
10325

10326
At the instant when Darnay saw a rush in the eyes of the crowd, which
10327
another instant would have brought upon him, the postmaster turned his
10328
horse into the yard, the escort rode in close upon his horse's flanks,
10329
and the postmaster shut and barred the crazy double gates. The farrier
10330
struck a blow upon them with his hammer, and the crowd groaned; but, no
10331
more was done.
10332

10333
"What is this decree that the smith spoke of?" Darnay asked the
10334
postmaster, when he had thanked him, and stood beside him in the yard.
10335

10336
"Truly, a decree for selling the property of emigrants."
10337

10338
"When passed?"
10339

10340
"On the fourteenth."
10341

10342
"The day I left England!"
10343

10344
"Everybody says it is but one of several, and that there will be
10345
others--if there are not already--banishing all emigrants, and
10346
condemning all to death who return. That is what he meant when he said
10347
your life was not your own."
10348

10349
"But there are no such decrees yet?"
10350

10351
"What do I know!" said the postmaster, shrugging his shoulders; "there
10352
may be, or there will be. It is all the same. What would you have?"
10353

10354
They rested on some straw in a loft until the middle of the night, and
10355
then rode forward again when all the town was asleep. Among the many
10356
wild changes observable on familiar things which made this wild ride
10357
unreal, not the least was the seeming rarity of sleep. After long and
10358
lonely spurring over dreary roads, they would come to a cluster of poor
10359
cottages, not steeped in darkness, but all glittering with lights, and
10360
would find the people, in a ghostly manner in the dead of the night,
10361
circling hand in hand round a shrivelled tree of Liberty, or all drawn
10362
up together singing a Liberty song. Happily, however, there was sleep in
10363
Beauvais that night to help them out of it and they passed on once more
10364
into solitude and loneliness: jingling through the untimely cold and
10365
wet, among impoverished fields that had yielded no fruits of the earth
10366
that year, diversified by the blackened remains of burnt houses, and by
10367
the sudden emergence from ambuscade, and sharp reining up across their
10368
way, of patriot patrols on the watch on all the roads.
10369

10370
Daylight at last found them before the wall of Paris. The barrier was
10371
closed and strongly guarded when they rode up to it.
10372

10373
"Where are the papers of this prisoner?" demanded a resolute-looking man
10374
in authority, who was summoned out by the guard.
10375

10376
Naturally struck by the disagreeable word, Charles Darnay requested the
10377
speaker to take notice that he was a free traveller and French citizen,
10378
in charge of an escort which the disturbed state of the country had
10379
imposed upon him, and which he had paid for.
10380

10381
"Where," repeated the same personage, without taking any heed of him
10382
whatever, "are the papers of this prisoner?"
10383

10384
The drunken patriot had them in his cap, and produced them. Casting his
10385
eyes over Gabelle's letter, the same personage in authority showed some
10386
disorder and surprise, and looked at Darnay with a close attention.
10387

10388
He left escort and escorted without saying a word, however, and went
10389
into the guard-room; meanwhile, they sat upon their horses outside the
10390
gate. Looking about him while in this state of suspense, Charles
10391
Darnay observed that the gate was held by a mixed guard of soldiers and
10392
patriots, the latter far outnumbering the former; and that while ingress
10393
into the city for peasants' carts bringing in supplies, and for similar
10394
traffic and traffickers, was easy enough, egress, even for the homeliest
10395
people, was very difficult. A numerous medley of men and women, not
10396
to mention beasts and vehicles of various sorts, was waiting to issue
10397
forth; but, the previous identification was so strict, that they
10398
filtered through the barrier very slowly. Some of these people knew
10399
their turn for examination to be so far off, that they lay down on the
10400
ground to sleep or smoke, while others talked together, or loitered
10401
about. The red cap and tri-colour cockade were universal, both among men
10402
and women.
10403

10404
When he had sat in his saddle some half-hour, taking note of these
10405
things, Darnay found himself confronted by the same man in authority,
10406
who directed the guard to open the barrier. Then he delivered to the
10407
escort, drunk and sober, a receipt for the escorted, and requested him
10408
to dismount. He did so, and the two patriots, leading his tired horse,
10409
turned and rode away without entering the city.
10410

10411
He accompanied his conductor into a guard-room, smelling of common wine
10412
and tobacco, where certain soldiers and patriots, asleep and awake,
10413
drunk and sober, and in various neutral states between sleeping and
10414
waking, drunkenness and sobriety, were standing and lying about. The
10415
light in the guard-house, half derived from the waning oil-lamps of
10416
the night, and half from the overcast day, was in a correspondingly
10417
uncertain condition. Some registers were lying open on a desk, and an
10418
officer of a coarse, dark aspect, presided over these.
10419

10420
"Citizen Defarge," said he to Darnay's conductor, as he took a slip of
10421
paper to write on. "Is this the emigrant Evremonde?"
10422

10423
"This is the man."
10424

10425
"Your age, Evremonde?"
10426

10427
"Thirty-seven."
10428

10429
"Married, Evremonde?"
10430

10431
"Yes."
10432

10433
"Where married?"
10434

10435
"In England."
10436

10437
"Without doubt. Where is your wife, Evremonde?"
10438

10439
"In England."
10440

10441
"Without doubt. You are consigned, Evremonde, to the prison of La
10442
Force."
10443

10444
"Just Heaven!" exclaimed Darnay. "Under what law, and for what offence?"
10445

10446
The officer looked up from his slip of paper for a moment.
10447

10448
"We have new laws, Evremonde, and new offences, since you were here." He
10449
said it with a hard smile, and went on writing.
10450

10451
"I entreat you to observe that I have come here voluntarily, in response
10452
to that written appeal of a fellow-countryman which lies before you. I
10453
demand no more than the opportunity to do so without delay. Is not that
10454
my right?"
10455

10456
"Emigrants have no rights, Evremonde," was the stolid reply. The officer
10457
wrote until he had finished, read over to himself what he had written,
10458
sanded it, and handed it to Defarge, with the words "In secret."
10459

10460
Defarge motioned with the paper to the prisoner that he must accompany
10461
him. The prisoner obeyed, and a guard of two armed patriots attended
10462
them.
10463

10464
"Is it you," said Defarge, in a low voice, as they went down the
10465
guardhouse steps and turned into Paris, "who married the daughter of
10466
Doctor Manette, once a prisoner in the Bastille that is no more?"
10467

10468
"Yes," replied Darnay, looking at him with surprise.
10469

10470
"My name is Defarge, and I keep a wine-shop in the Quarter Saint
10471
Antoine. Possibly you have heard of me."
10472

10473
"My wife came to your house to reclaim her father? Yes!"
10474

10475
The word "wife" seemed to serve as a gloomy reminder to Defarge, to say
10476
with sudden impatience, "In the name of that sharp female newly-born,
10477
and called La Guillotine, why did you come to France?"
10478

10479
"You heard me say why, a minute ago. Do you not believe it is the
10480
truth?"
10481

10482
"A bad truth for you," said Defarge, speaking with knitted brows, and
10483
looking straight before him.
10484

10485
"Indeed I am lost here. All here is so unprecedented, so changed, so
10486
sudden and unfair, that I am absolutely lost. Will you render me a
10487
little help?"
10488

10489
"None." Defarge spoke, always looking straight before him.
10490

10491
"Will you answer me a single question?"
10492

10493
"Perhaps. According to its nature. You can say what it is."
10494

10495
"In this prison that I am going to so unjustly, shall I have some free
10496
communication with the world outside?"
10497

10498
"You will see."
10499

10500
"I am not to be buried there, prejudged, and without any means of
10501
presenting my case?"
10502

10503
"You will see. But, what then? Other people have been similarly buried
10504
in worse prisons, before now."
10505

10506
"But never by me, Citizen Defarge."
10507

10508
Defarge glanced darkly at him for answer, and walked on in a steady
10509
and set silence. The deeper he sank into this silence, the fainter hope
10510
there was--or so Darnay thought--of his softening in any slight degree.
10511
He, therefore, made haste to say:
10512

10513
"It is of the utmost importance to me (you know, Citizen, even better
10514
than I, of how much importance), that I should be able to communicate to
10515
Mr. Lorry of Tellson's Bank, an English gentleman who is now in Paris,
10516
the simple fact, without comment, that I have been thrown into the
10517
prison of La Force. Will you cause that to be done for me?"
10518

10519
"I will do," Defarge doggedly rejoined, "nothing for you. My duty is to
10520
my country and the People. I am the sworn servant of both, against you.
10521
I will do nothing for you."
10522

10523
Charles Darnay felt it hopeless to entreat him further, and his pride
10524
was touched besides. As they walked on in silence, he could not but see
10525
how used the people were to the spectacle of prisoners passing along the
10526
streets. The very children scarcely noticed him. A few passers turned
10527
their heads, and a few shook their fingers at him as an aristocrat;
10528
otherwise, that a man in good clothes should be going to prison, was no
10529
more remarkable than that a labourer in working clothes should be
10530
going to work. In one narrow, dark, and dirty street through which they
10531
passed, an excited orator, mounted on a stool, was addressing an excited
10532
audience on the crimes against the people, of the king and the royal
10533
family. The few words that he caught from this man's lips, first made
10534
it known to Charles Darnay that the king was in prison, and that the
10535
foreign ambassadors had one and all left Paris. On the road (except at
10536
Beauvais) he had heard absolutely nothing. The escort and the universal
10537
watchfulness had completely isolated him.
10538

10539
That he had fallen among far greater dangers than those which had
10540
developed themselves when he left England, he of course knew now. That
10541
perils had thickened about him fast, and might thicken faster and faster
10542
yet, he of course knew now. He could not but admit to himself that he
10543
might not have made this journey, if he could have foreseen the events
10544
of a few days. And yet his misgivings were not so dark as, imagined by
10545
the light of this later time, they would appear. Troubled as the future
10546
was, it was the unknown future, and in its obscurity there was ignorant
10547
hope. The horrible massacre, days and nights long, which, within a few
10548
rounds of the clock, was to set a great mark of blood upon the blessed
10549
garnering time of harvest, was as far out of his knowledge as if it had
10550
been a hundred thousand years away. The "sharp female newly-born, and
10551
called La Guillotine," was hardly known to him, or to the generality
10552
of people, by name. The frightful deeds that were to be soon done, were
10553
probably unimagined at that time in the brains of the doers. How could
10554
they have a place in the shadowy conceptions of a gentle mind?
10555

10556
Of unjust treatment in detention and hardship, and in cruel separation
10557
from his wife and child, he foreshadowed the likelihood, or the
10558
certainty; but, beyond this, he dreaded nothing distinctly. With this on
10559
his mind, which was enough to carry into a dreary prison courtyard, he
10560
arrived at the prison of La Force.
10561

10562
A man with a bloated face opened the strong wicket, to whom Defarge
10563
presented "The Emigrant Evremonde."
10564

10565
"What the Devil! How many more of them!" exclaimed the man with the
10566
bloated face.
10567

10568
Defarge took his receipt without noticing the exclamation, and withdrew,
10569
with his two fellow-patriots.
10570

10571
"What the Devil, I say again!" exclaimed the gaoler, left with his wife.
10572
"How many more!"
10573

10574
The gaoler's wife, being provided with no answer to the question, merely
10575
replied, "One must have patience, my dear!" Three turnkeys who entered
10576
responsive to a bell she rang, echoed the sentiment, and one added, "For
10577
the love of Liberty;" which sounded in that place like an inappropriate
10578
conclusion.
10579

10580
The prison of La Force was a gloomy prison, dark and filthy, and with a
10581
horrible smell of foul sleep in it. Extraordinary how soon the noisome
10582
flavour of imprisoned sleep, becomes manifest in all such places that
10583
are ill cared for!
10584

10585
"In secret, too," grumbled the gaoler, looking at the written paper. "As
10586
if I was not already full to bursting!"
10587

10588
He stuck the paper on a file, in an ill-humour, and Charles Darnay
10589
awaited his further pleasure for half an hour: sometimes, pacing to and
10590
fro in the strong arched room: sometimes, resting on a stone seat: in
10591
either case detained to be imprinted on the memory of the chief and his
10592
subordinates.
10593

10594
"Come!" said the chief, at length taking up his keys, "come with me,
10595
emigrant."
10596

10597
Through the dismal prison twilight, his new charge accompanied him by
10598
corridor and staircase, many doors clanging and locking behind them,
10599
until they came into a large, low, vaulted chamber, crowded with
10600
prisoners of both sexes. The women were seated at a long table, reading
10601
and writing, knitting, sewing, and embroidering; the men were for the
10602
most part standing behind their chairs, or lingering up and down the
10603
room.
10604

10605
In the instinctive association of prisoners with shameful crime and
10606
disgrace, the new-comer recoiled from this company. But the crowning
10607
unreality of his long unreal ride, was, their all at once rising to
10608
receive him, with every refinement of manner known to the time, and with
10609
all the engaging graces and courtesies of life.
10610

10611
So strangely clouded were these refinements by the prison manners and
10612
gloom, so spectral did they become in the inappropriate squalor and
10613
misery through which they were seen, that Charles Darnay seemed to stand
10614
in a company of the dead. Ghosts all! The ghost of beauty, the ghost
10615
of stateliness, the ghost of elegance, the ghost of pride, the ghost of
10616
frivolity, the ghost of wit, the ghost of youth, the ghost of age, all
10617
waiting their dismissal from the desolate shore, all turning on him eyes
10618
that were changed by the death they had died in coming there.
10619

10620
It struck him motionless. The gaoler standing at his side, and the other
10621
gaolers moving about, who would have been well enough as to appearance
10622
in the ordinary exercise of their functions, looked so extravagantly
10623
coarse contrasted with sorrowing mothers and blooming daughters who were
10624
there--with the apparitions of the coquette, the young beauty, and the
10625
mature woman delicately bred--that the inversion of all experience and
10626
likelihood which the scene of shadows presented, was heightened to its
10627
utmost. Surely, ghosts all. Surely, the long unreal ride some progress
10628
of disease that had brought him to these gloomy shades!
10629

10630
"In the name of the assembled companions in misfortune," said a
10631
gentleman of courtly appearance and address, coming forward, "I have the
10632
honour of giving you welcome to La Force, and of condoling with you
10633
on the calamity that has brought you among us. May it soon terminate
10634
happily! It would be an impertinence elsewhere, but it is not so here,
10635
to ask your name and condition?"
10636

10637
Charles Darnay roused himself, and gave the required information, in
10638
words as suitable as he could find.
10639

10640
"But I hope," said the gentleman, following the chief gaoler with his
10641
eyes, who moved across the room, "that you are not in secret?"
10642

10643
"I do not understand the meaning of the term, but I have heard them say
10644
so."
10645

10646
"Ah, what a pity! We so much regret it! But take courage; several
10647
members of our society have been in secret, at first, and it has lasted
10648
but a short time." Then he added, raising his voice, "I grieve to inform
10649
the society--in secret."
10650

10651
There was a murmur of commiseration as Charles Darnay crossed the room
10652
to a grated door where the gaoler awaited him, and many voices--among
10653
which, the soft and compassionate voices of women were conspicuous--gave
10654
him good wishes and encouragement. He turned at the grated door, to
10655
render the thanks of his heart; it closed under the gaoler's hand; and
10656
the apparitions vanished from his sight forever.
10657

10658
The wicket opened on a stone staircase, leading upward. When they had
10659
ascended forty steps (the prisoner of half an hour already counted
10660
them), the gaoler opened a low black door, and they passed into a
10661
solitary cell. It struck cold and damp, but was not dark.
10662

10663
"Yours," said the gaoler.
10664

10665
"Why am I confined alone?"
10666

10667
"How do I know!"
10668

10669
"I can buy pen, ink, and paper?"
10670

10671
"Such are not my orders. You will be visited, and can ask then. At
10672
present, you may buy your food, and nothing more."
10673

10674
There were in the cell, a chair, a table, and a straw mattress. As
10675
the gaoler made a general inspection of these objects, and of the four
10676
walls, before going out, a wandering fancy wandered through the mind of
10677
the prisoner leaning against the wall opposite to him, that this gaoler
10678
was so unwholesomely bloated, both in face and person, as to look like
10679
a man who had been drowned and filled with water. When the gaoler was
10680
gone, he thought in the same wandering way, "Now am I left, as if I were
10681
dead." Stopping then, to look down at the mattress, he turned from it
10682
with a sick feeling, and thought, "And here in these crawling creatures
10683
is the first condition of the body after death."
10684

10685
"Five paces by four and a half, five paces by four and a half, five
10686
paces by four and a half." The prisoner walked to and fro in his cell,
10687
counting its measurement, and the roar of the city arose like muffled
10688
drums with a wild swell of voices added to them. "He made shoes, he made
10689
shoes, he made shoes." The prisoner counted the measurement again, and
10690
paced faster, to draw his mind with him from that latter repetition.
10691
"The ghosts that vanished when the wicket closed. There was one among
10692
them, the appearance of a lady dressed in black, who was leaning in the
10693
embrasure of a window, and she had a light shining upon her golden
10694
hair, and she looked like * * * * Let us ride on again, for God's sake,
10695
through the illuminated villages with the people all awake! * * * * He
10696
made shoes, he made shoes, he made shoes. * * * * Five paces by four and
10697
a half." With such scraps tossing and rolling upward from the depths of
10698
his mind, the prisoner walked faster and faster, obstinately counting
10699
and counting; and the roar of the city changed to this extent--that it
10700
still rolled in like muffled drums, but with the wail of voices that he
10701
knew, in the swell that rose above them.
10702

10703

10704

10705

10706
II. The Grindstone
10707

10708

10709
Tellson's Bank, established in the Saint Germain Quarter of Paris, was
10710
in a wing of a large house, approached by a courtyard and shut off from
10711
the street by a high wall and a strong gate. The house belonged to
10712
a great nobleman who had lived in it until he made a flight from the
10713
troubles, in his own cook's dress, and got across the borders. A
10714
mere beast of the chase flying from hunters, he was still in his
10715
metempsychosis no other than the same Monseigneur, the preparation
10716
of whose chocolate for whose lips had once occupied three strong men
10717
besides the cook in question.
10718

10719
Monseigneur gone, and the three strong men absolving themselves from the
10720
sin of having drawn his high wages, by being more than ready and
10721
willing to cut his throat on the altar of the dawning Republic one and
10722
indivisible of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, Monseigneur's
10723
house had been first sequestrated, and then confiscated. For, all
10724
things moved so fast, and decree followed decree with that fierce
10725
precipitation, that now upon the third night of the autumn month
10726
of September, patriot emissaries of the law were in possession of
10727
Monseigneur's house, and had marked it with the tri-colour, and were
10728
drinking brandy in its state apartments.
10729

10730
A place of business in London like Tellson's place of business in Paris,
10731
would soon have driven the House out of its mind and into the Gazette.
10732
For, what would staid British responsibility and respectability have
10733
said to orange-trees in boxes in a Bank courtyard, and even to a Cupid
10734
over the counter? Yet such things were. Tellson's had whitewashed the
10735
Cupid, but he was still to be seen on the ceiling, in the coolest
10736
linen, aiming (as he very often does) at money from morning to
10737
night. Bankruptcy must inevitably have come of this young Pagan, in
10738
Lombard-street, London, and also of a curtained alcove in the rear of
10739
the immortal boy, and also of a looking-glass let into the wall, and
10740
also of clerks not at all old, who danced in public on the slightest
10741
provocation. Yet, a French Tellson's could get on with these things
10742
exceedingly well, and, as long as the times held together, no man had
10743
taken fright at them, and drawn out his money.
10744

10745
What money would be drawn out of Tellson's henceforth, and what would
10746
lie there, lost and forgotten; what plate and jewels would tarnish in
10747
Tellson's hiding-places, while the depositors rusted in prisons,
10748
and when they should have violently perished; how many accounts with
10749
Tellson's never to be balanced in this world, must be carried over into
10750
the next; no man could have said, that night, any more than Mr. Jarvis
10751
Lorry could, though he thought heavily of these questions. He sat by
10752
a newly-lighted wood fire (the blighted and unfruitful year was
10753
prematurely cold), and on his honest and courageous face there was a
10754
deeper shade than the pendent lamp could throw, or any object in the
10755
room distortedly reflect--a shade of horror.
10756

10757
He occupied rooms in the Bank, in his fidelity to the House of which
10758
he had grown to be a part, like strong root-ivy. It chanced that they
10759
derived a kind of security from the patriotic occupation of the main
10760
building, but the true-hearted old gentleman never calculated about
10761
that. All such circumstances were indifferent to him, so that he did
10762
his duty. On the opposite side of the courtyard, under a colonnade,
10763
was extensive standing--for carriages--where, indeed, some carriages
10764
of Monseigneur yet stood. Against two of the pillars were fastened two
10765
great flaring flambeaux, and in the light of these, standing out in the
10766
open air, was a large grindstone: a roughly mounted thing which appeared
10767
to have hurriedly been brought there from some neighbouring smithy,
10768
or other workshop. Rising and looking out of window at these harmless
10769
objects, Mr. Lorry shivered, and retired to his seat by the fire. He had
10770
opened, not only the glass window, but the lattice blind outside it, and
10771
he had closed both again, and he shivered through his frame.
10772

10773
From the streets beyond the high wall and the strong gate, there came
10774
the usual night hum of the city, with now and then an indescribable ring
10775
in it, weird and unearthly, as if some unwonted sounds of a terrible
10776
nature were going up to Heaven.
10777

10778
"Thank God," said Mr. Lorry, clasping his hands, "that no one near and
10779
dear to me is in this dreadful town to-night. May He have mercy on all
10780
who are in danger!"
10781

10782
Soon afterwards, the bell at the great gate sounded, and he thought,
10783
"They have come back!" and sat listening. But, there was no loud
10784
irruption into the courtyard, as he had expected, and he heard the gate
10785
clash again, and all was quiet.
10786

10787
The nervousness and dread that were upon him inspired that vague
10788
uneasiness respecting the Bank, which a great change would naturally
10789
awaken, with such feelings roused. It was well guarded, and he got up to
10790
go among the trusty people who were watching it, when his door suddenly
10791
opened, and two figures rushed in, at sight of which he fell back in
10792
amazement.
10793

10794
Lucie and her father! Lucie with her arms stretched out to him, and with
10795
that old look of earnestness so concentrated and intensified, that it
10796
seemed as though it had been stamped upon her face expressly to give
10797
force and power to it in this one passage of her life.
10798

10799
"What is this?" cried Mr. Lorry, breathless and confused. "What is the
10800
matter? Lucie! Manette! What has happened? What has brought you here?
10801
What is it?"
10802

10803
With the look fixed upon him, in her paleness and wildness, she panted
10804
out in his arms, imploringly, "O my dear friend! My husband!"
10805

10806
"Your husband, Lucie?"
10807

10808
"Charles."
10809

10810
"What of Charles?"
10811

10812
"Here.
10813

10814
"Here, in Paris?"
10815

10816
"Has been here some days--three or four--I don't know how many--I can't
10817
collect my thoughts. An errand of generosity brought him here unknown to
10818
us; he was stopped at the barrier, and sent to prison."
10819

10820
The old man uttered an irrepressible cry. Almost at the same moment, the
10821
bell of the great gate rang again, and a loud noise of feet and voices
10822
came pouring into the courtyard.
10823

10824
"What is that noise?" said the Doctor, turning towards the window.
10825

10826
"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry. "Don't look out! Manette, for your life,
10827
don't touch the blind!"
10828

10829
The Doctor turned, with his hand upon the fastening of the window, and
10830
said, with a cool, bold smile:
10831

10832
"My dear friend, I have a charmed life in this city. I have been
10833
a Bastille prisoner. There is no patriot in Paris--in Paris? In
10834
France--who, knowing me to have been a prisoner in the Bastille, would
10835
touch me, except to overwhelm me with embraces, or carry me in triumph.
10836
My old pain has given me a power that has brought us through the
10837
barrier, and gained us news of Charles there, and brought us here. I
10838
knew it would be so; I knew I could help Charles out of all danger; I
10839
told Lucie so.--What is that noise?" His hand was again upon the window.
10840

10841
"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry, absolutely desperate. "No, Lucie, my
10842
dear, nor you!" He got his arm round her, and held her. "Don't be so
10843
terrified, my love. I solemnly swear to you that I know of no harm
10844
having happened to Charles; that I had no suspicion even of his being in
10845
this fatal place. What prison is he in?"
10846

10847
"La Force!"
10848

10849
"La Force! Lucie, my child, if ever you were brave and serviceable in
10850
your life--and you were always both--you will compose yourself now, to
10851
do exactly as I bid you; for more depends upon it than you can think, or
10852
I can say. There is no help for you in any action on your part to-night;
10853
you cannot possibly stir out. I say this, because what I must bid you
10854
to do for Charles's sake, is the hardest thing to do of all. You must
10855
instantly be obedient, still, and quiet. You must let me put you in a
10856
room at the back here. You must leave your father and me alone for
10857
two minutes, and as there are Life and Death in the world you must not
10858
delay."
10859

10860
"I will be submissive to you. I see in your face that you know I can do
10861
nothing else than this. I know you are true."
10862

10863
The old man kissed her, and hurried her into his room, and turned the
10864
key; then, came hurrying back to the Doctor, and opened the window and
10865
partly opened the blind, and put his hand upon the Doctor's arm, and
10866
looked out with him into the courtyard.
10867

10868
Looked out upon a throng of men and women: not enough in number, or near
10869
enough, to fill the courtyard: not more than forty or fifty in all. The
10870
people in possession of the house had let them in at the gate, and they
10871
had rushed in to work at the grindstone; it had evidently been set up
10872
there for their purpose, as in a convenient and retired spot.
10873

10874
But, such awful workers, and such awful work!
10875

10876
The grindstone had a double handle, and, turning at it madly were two
10877
men, whose faces, as their long hair flapped back when the whirlings of
10878
the grindstone brought their faces up, were more horrible and cruel than
10879
the visages of the wildest savages in their most barbarous disguise.
10880
False eyebrows and false moustaches were stuck upon them, and their
10881
hideous countenances were all bloody and sweaty, and all awry with
10882
howling, and all staring and glaring with beastly excitement and want of
10883
sleep. As these ruffians turned and turned, their matted locks now flung
10884
forward over their eyes, now flung backward over their necks, some women
10885
held wine to their mouths that they might drink; and what with dropping
10886
blood, and what with dropping wine, and what with the stream of sparks
10887
struck out of the stone, all their wicked atmosphere seemed gore and
10888
fire. The eye could not detect one creature in the group free from
10889
the smear of blood. Shouldering one another to get next at the
10890
sharpening-stone, were men stripped to the waist, with the stain all
10891
over their limbs and bodies; men in all sorts of rags, with the stain
10892
upon those rags; men devilishly set off with spoils of women's lace
10893
and silk and ribbon, with the stain dyeing those trifles through
10894
and through. Hatchets, knives, bayonets, swords, all brought to be
10895
sharpened, were all red with it. Some of the hacked swords were tied to
10896
the wrists of those who carried them, with strips of linen and fragments
10897
of dress: ligatures various in kind, but all deep of the one colour. And
10898
as the frantic wielders of these weapons snatched them from the stream
10899
of sparks and tore away into the streets, the same red hue was red in
10900
their frenzied eyes;--eyes which any unbrutalised beholder would have
10901
given twenty years of life, to petrify with a well-directed gun.
10902

10903
All this was seen in a moment, as the vision of a drowning man, or of
10904
any human creature at any very great pass, could see a world if it
10905
were there. They drew back from the window, and the Doctor looked for
10906
explanation in his friend's ashy face.
10907

10908
"They are," Mr. Lorry whispered the words, glancing fearfully round at
10909
the locked room, "murdering the prisoners. If you are sure of what you
10910
say; if you really have the power you think you have--as I believe you
10911
have--make yourself known to these devils, and get taken to La Force. It
10912
may be too late, I don't know, but let it not be a minute later!"
10913

10914
Doctor Manette pressed his hand, hastened bareheaded out of the room,
10915
and was in the courtyard when Mr. Lorry regained the blind.
10916

10917
His streaming white hair, his remarkable face, and the impetuous
10918
confidence of his manner, as he put the weapons aside like water,
10919
carried him in an instant to the heart of the concourse at the stone.
10920
For a few moments there was a pause, and a hurry, and a murmur, and
10921
the unintelligible sound of his voice; and then Mr. Lorry saw him,
10922
surrounded by all, and in the midst of a line of twenty men long, all
10923
linked shoulder to shoulder, and hand to shoulder, hurried out with
10924
cries of--"Live the Bastille prisoner! Help for the Bastille prisoner's
10925
kindred in La Force! Room for the Bastille prisoner in front there! Save
10926
the prisoner Evremonde at La Force!" and a thousand answering shouts.
10927

10928
He closed the lattice again with a fluttering heart, closed the window
10929
and the curtain, hastened to Lucie, and told her that her father was
10930
assisted by the people, and gone in search of her husband. He found
10931
her child and Miss Pross with her; but, it never occurred to him to be
10932
surprised by their appearance until a long time afterwards, when he sat
10933
watching them in such quiet as the night knew.
10934

10935
Lucie had, by that time, fallen into a stupor on the floor at his feet,
10936
clinging to his hand. Miss Pross had laid the child down on his own
10937
bed, and her head had gradually fallen on the pillow beside her pretty
10938
charge. O the long, long night, with the moans of the poor wife! And O
10939
the long, long night, with no return of her father and no tidings!
10940

10941
Twice more in the darkness the bell at the great gate sounded, and the
10942
irruption was repeated, and the grindstone whirled and spluttered.
10943
"What is it?" cried Lucie, affrighted. "Hush! The soldiers' swords are
10944
sharpened there," said Mr. Lorry. "The place is national property now,
10945
and used as a kind of armoury, my love."
10946

10947
Twice more in all; but, the last spell of work was feeble and fitful.
10948
Soon afterwards the day began to dawn, and he softly detached himself
10949
from the clasping hand, and cautiously looked out again. A man, so
10950
besmeared that he might have been a sorely wounded soldier creeping back
10951
to consciousness on a field of slain, was rising from the pavement by
10952
the side of the grindstone, and looking about him with a vacant air.
10953
Shortly, this worn-out murderer descried in the imperfect light one of
10954
the carriages of Monseigneur, and, staggering to that gorgeous vehicle,
10955
climbed in at the door, and shut himself up to take his rest on its
10956
dainty cushions.
10957

10958
The great grindstone, Earth, had turned when Mr. Lorry looked out again,
10959
and the sun was red on the courtyard. But, the lesser grindstone stood
10960
alone there in the calm morning air, with a red upon it that the sun had
10961
never given, and would never take away.
10962

10963

10964

10965

10966
III. The Shadow
10967

10968

10969
One of the first considerations which arose in the business mind of Mr.
10970
Lorry when business hours came round, was this:--that he had no right to
10971
imperil Tellson's by sheltering the wife of an emigrant prisoner under
10972
the Bank roof. His own possessions, safety, life, he would have hazarded
10973
for Lucie and her child, without a moment's demur; but the great trust
10974
he held was not his own, and as to that business charge he was a strict
10975
man of business.
10976

10977
At first, his mind reverted to Defarge, and he thought of finding out
10978
the wine-shop again and taking counsel with its master in reference to
10979
the safest dwelling-place in the distracted state of the city. But, the
10980
same consideration that suggested him, repudiated him; he lived in the
10981
most violent Quarter, and doubtless was influential there, and deep in
10982
its dangerous workings.
10983

10984
Noon coming, and the Doctor not returning, and every minute's delay
10985
tending to compromise Tellson's, Mr. Lorry advised with Lucie. She said
10986
that her father had spoken of hiring a lodging for a short term, in that
10987
Quarter, near the Banking-house. As there was no business objection to
10988
this, and as he foresaw that even if it were all well with Charles, and
10989
he were to be released, he could not hope to leave the city, Mr. Lorry
10990
went out in quest of such a lodging, and found a suitable one, high up
10991
in a removed by-street where the closed blinds in all the other windows
10992
of a high melancholy square of buildings marked deserted homes.
10993

10994
To this lodging he at once removed Lucie and her child, and Miss Pross:
10995
giving them what comfort he could, and much more than he had himself.
10996
He left Jerry with them, as a figure to fill a doorway that would bear
10997
considerable knocking on the head, and returned to his own occupations.
10998
A disturbed and doleful mind he brought to bear upon them, and slowly
10999
and heavily the day lagged on with him.
11000

11001
It wore itself out, and wore him out with it, until the Bank closed. He
11002
was again alone in his room of the previous night, considering what to
11003
do next, when he heard a foot upon the stair. In a few moments, a
11004
man stood in his presence, who, with a keenly observant look at him,
11005
addressed him by his name.
11006

11007
"Your servant," said Mr. Lorry. "Do you know me?"
11008

11009
He was a strongly made man with dark curling hair, from forty-five
11010
to fifty years of age. For answer he repeated, without any change of
11011
emphasis, the words:
11012

11013
"Do you know me?"
11014

11015
"I have seen you somewhere."
11016

11017
"Perhaps at my wine-shop?"
11018

11019
Much interested and agitated, Mr. Lorry said: "You come from Doctor
11020
Manette?"
11021

11022
"Yes. I come from Doctor Manette."
11023

11024
"And what says he? What does he send me?"
11025

11026
Defarge gave into his anxious hand, an open scrap of paper. It bore the
11027
words in the Doctor's writing:
11028

11029
    "Charles is safe, but I cannot safely leave this place yet.
11030
     I have obtained the favour that the bearer has a short note
11031
     from Charles to his wife.  Let the bearer see his wife."
11032

11033
It was dated from La Force, within an hour.
11034

11035
"Will you accompany me," said Mr. Lorry, joyfully relieved after reading
11036
this note aloud, "to where his wife resides?"
11037

11038
"Yes," returned Defarge.
11039

11040
Scarcely noticing as yet, in what a curiously reserved and mechanical
11041
way Defarge spoke, Mr. Lorry put on his hat and they went down into the
11042
courtyard. There, they found two women; one, knitting.
11043

11044
"Madame Defarge, surely!" said Mr. Lorry, who had left her in exactly
11045
the same attitude some seventeen years ago.
11046

11047
"It is she," observed her husband.
11048

11049
"Does Madame go with us?" inquired Mr. Lorry, seeing that she moved as
11050
they moved.
11051

11052
"Yes. That she may be able to recognise the faces and know the persons.
11053
It is for their safety."
11054

11055
Beginning to be struck by Defarge's manner, Mr. Lorry looked dubiously
11056
at him, and led the way. Both the women followed; the second woman being
11057
The Vengeance.
11058

11059
They passed through the intervening streets as quickly as they might,
11060
ascended the staircase of the new domicile, were admitted by Jerry,
11061
and found Lucie weeping, alone. She was thrown into a transport by the
11062
tidings Mr. Lorry gave her of her husband, and clasped the hand that
11063
delivered his note--little thinking what it had been doing near him in
11064
the night, and might, but for a chance, have done to him.
11065

11066
     "DEAREST,--Take courage.  I am well, and your father has
11067
      influence around me.  You cannot answer this.
11068
      Kiss our child for me."
11069

11070
That was all the writing. It was so much, however, to her who received
11071
it, that she turned from Defarge to his wife, and kissed one of the
11072
hands that knitted. It was a passionate, loving, thankful, womanly
11073
action, but the hand made no response--dropped cold and heavy, and took
11074
to its knitting again.
11075

11076
There was something in its touch that gave Lucie a check. She stopped in
11077
the act of putting the note in her bosom, and, with her hands yet at her
11078
neck, looked terrified at Madame Defarge. Madame Defarge met the lifted
11079
eyebrows and forehead with a cold, impassive stare.
11080

11081
"My dear," said Mr. Lorry, striking in to explain; "there are frequent
11082
risings in the streets; and, although it is not likely they will ever
11083
trouble you, Madame Defarge wishes to see those whom she has the power
11084
to protect at such times, to the end that she may know them--that she
11085
may identify them. I believe," said Mr. Lorry, rather halting in his
11086
reassuring words, as the stony manner of all the three impressed itself
11087
upon him more and more, "I state the case, Citizen Defarge?"
11088

11089
Defarge looked gloomily at his wife, and gave no other answer than a
11090
gruff sound of acquiescence.
11091

11092
"You had better, Lucie," said Mr. Lorry, doing all he could to
11093
propitiate, by tone and manner, "have the dear child here, and our
11094
good Pross. Our good Pross, Defarge, is an English lady, and knows no
11095
French."
11096

11097
The lady in question, whose rooted conviction that she was more than a
11098
match for any foreigner, was not to be shaken by distress and, danger,
11099
appeared with folded arms, and observed in English to The Vengeance,
11100
whom her eyes first encountered, "Well, I am sure, Boldface! I hope
11101
_you_ are pretty well!" She also bestowed a British cough on Madame
11102
Defarge; but, neither of the two took much heed of her.
11103

11104
"Is that his child?" said Madame Defarge, stopping in her work for the
11105
first time, and pointing her knitting-needle at little Lucie as if it
11106
were the finger of Fate.
11107

11108
"Yes, madame," answered Mr. Lorry; "this is our poor prisoner's darling
11109
daughter, and only child."
11110

11111
The shadow attendant on Madame Defarge and her party seemed to fall so
11112
threatening and dark on the child, that her mother instinctively
11113
kneeled on the ground beside her, and held her to her breast. The
11114
shadow attendant on Madame Defarge and her party seemed then to fall,
11115
threatening and dark, on both the mother and the child.
11116

11117
"It is enough, my husband," said Madame Defarge. "I have seen them. We
11118
may go."
11119

11120
But, the suppressed manner had enough of menace in it--not visible and
11121
presented, but indistinct and withheld--to alarm Lucie into saying, as
11122
she laid her appealing hand on Madame Defarge's dress:
11123

11124
"You will be good to my poor husband. You will do him no harm. You will
11125
help me to see him if you can?"
11126

11127
"Your husband is not my business here," returned Madame Defarge, looking
11128
down at her with perfect composure. "It is the daughter of your father
11129
who is my business here."
11130

11131
"For my sake, then, be merciful to my husband. For my child's sake! She
11132
will put her hands together and pray you to be merciful. We are more
11133
afraid of you than of these others."
11134

11135
Madame Defarge received it as a compliment, and looked at her husband.
11136
Defarge, who had been uneasily biting his thumb-nail and looking at her,
11137
collected his face into a sterner expression.
11138

11139
"What is it that your husband says in that little letter?" asked Madame
11140
Defarge, with a lowering smile. "Influence; he says something touching
11141
influence?"
11142

11143
"That my father," said Lucie, hurriedly taking the paper from her
11144
breast, but with her alarmed eyes on her questioner and not on it, "has
11145
much influence around him."
11146

11147
"Surely it will release him!" said Madame Defarge. "Let it do so."
11148

11149
"As a wife and mother," cried Lucie, most earnestly, "I implore you to
11150
have pity on me and not to exercise any power that you possess, against
11151
my innocent husband, but to use it in his behalf. O sister-woman, think
11152
of me. As a wife and mother!"
11153

11154
Madame Defarge looked, coldly as ever, at the suppliant, and said,
11155
turning to her friend The Vengeance:
11156

11157
"The wives and mothers we have been used to see, since we were as little
11158
as this child, and much less, have not been greatly considered? We have
11159
known _their_ husbands and fathers laid in prison and kept from them,
11160
often enough? All our lives, we have seen our sister-women suffer, in
11161
themselves and in their children, poverty, nakedness, hunger, thirst,
11162
sickness, misery, oppression and neglect of all kinds?"
11163

11164
"We have seen nothing else," returned The Vengeance.
11165

11166
"We have borne this a long time," said Madame Defarge, turning her eyes
11167
again upon Lucie. "Judge you! Is it likely that the trouble of one wife
11168
and mother would be much to us now?"
11169

11170
She resumed her knitting and went out. The Vengeance followed. Defarge
11171
went last, and closed the door.
11172

11173
"Courage, my dear Lucie," said Mr. Lorry, as he raised her. "Courage,
11174
courage! So far all goes well with us--much, much better than it has of
11175
late gone with many poor souls. Cheer up, and have a thankful heart."
11176

11177
"I am not thankless, I hope, but that dreadful woman seems to throw a
11178
shadow on me and on all my hopes."
11179

11180
"Tut, tut!" said Mr. Lorry; "what is this despondency in the brave
11181
little breast? A shadow indeed! No substance in it, Lucie."
11182

11183
But the shadow of the manner of these Defarges was dark upon himself,
11184
for all that, and in his secret mind it troubled him greatly.
11185

11186

11187

11188

11189
IV. Calm in Storm
11190

11191

11192
Doctor Manette did not return until the morning of the fourth day of his
11193
absence. So much of what had happened in that dreadful time as could be
11194
kept from the knowledge of Lucie was so well concealed from her, that
11195
not until long afterwards, when France and she were far apart, did she
11196
know that eleven hundred defenceless prisoners of both sexes and all
11197
ages had been killed by the populace; that four days and nights had been
11198
darkened by this deed of horror; and that the air around her had been
11199
tainted by the slain. She only knew that there had been an attack upon
11200
the prisons, that all political prisoners had been in danger, and that
11201
some had been dragged out by the crowd and murdered.
11202

11203
To Mr. Lorry, the Doctor communicated under an injunction of secrecy on
11204
which he had no need to dwell, that the crowd had taken him through a
11205
scene of carnage to the prison of La Force. That, in the prison he had
11206
found a self-appointed Tribunal sitting, before which the prisoners were
11207
brought singly, and by which they were rapidly ordered to be put forth
11208
to be massacred, or to be released, or (in a few cases) to be sent back
11209
to their cells. That, presented by his conductors to this Tribunal, he
11210
had announced himself by name and profession as having been for eighteen
11211
years a secret and unaccused prisoner in the Bastille; that, one of the
11212
body so sitting in judgment had risen and identified him, and that this
11213
man was Defarge.
11214

11215
That, hereupon he had ascertained, through the registers on the table,
11216
that his son-in-law was among the living prisoners, and had pleaded hard
11217
to the Tribunal--of whom some members were asleep and some awake, some
11218
dirty with murder and some clean, some sober and some not--for his life
11219
and liberty. That, in the first frantic greetings lavished on himself as
11220
a notable sufferer under the overthrown system, it had been accorded
11221
to him to have Charles Darnay brought before the lawless Court, and
11222
examined. That, he seemed on the point of being at once released, when
11223
the tide in his favour met with some unexplained check (not intelligible
11224
to the Doctor), which led to a few words of secret conference. That,
11225
the man sitting as President had then informed Doctor Manette that
11226
the prisoner must remain in custody, but should, for his sake, be held
11227
inviolate in safe custody. That, immediately, on a signal, the prisoner
11228
was removed to the interior of the prison again; but, that he, the
11229
Doctor, had then so strongly pleaded for permission to remain and
11230
assure himself that his son-in-law was, through no malice or mischance,
11231
delivered to the concourse whose murderous yells outside the gate had
11232
often drowned the proceedings, that he had obtained the permission, and
11233
had remained in that Hall of Blood until the danger was over.
11234

11235
The sights he had seen there, with brief snatches of food and sleep by
11236
intervals, shall remain untold. The mad joy over the prisoners who were
11237
saved, had astounded him scarcely less than the mad ferocity against
11238
those who were cut to pieces. One prisoner there was, he said, who had
11239
been discharged into the street free, but at whom a mistaken savage had
11240
thrust a pike as he passed out. Being besought to go to him and dress
11241
the wound, the Doctor had passed out at the same gate, and had found him
11242
in the arms of a company of Samaritans, who were seated on the bodies
11243
of their victims. With an inconsistency as monstrous as anything in this
11244
awful nightmare, they had helped the healer, and tended the wounded man
11245
with the gentlest solicitude--had made a litter for him and escorted him
11246
carefully from the spot--had then caught up their weapons and plunged
11247
anew into a butchery so dreadful, that the Doctor had covered his eyes
11248
with his hands, and swooned away in the midst of it.
11249

11250
As Mr. Lorry received these confidences, and as he watched the face of
11251
his friend now sixty-two years of age, a misgiving arose within him that
11252
such dread experiences would revive the old danger.
11253

11254
But, he had never seen his friend in his present aspect: he had never
11255
at all known him in his present character. For the first time the Doctor
11256
felt, now, that his suffering was strength and power. For the first time
11257
he felt that in that sharp fire, he had slowly forged the iron which
11258
could break the prison door of his daughter's husband, and deliver him.
11259
"It all tended to a good end, my friend; it was not mere waste and ruin.
11260
As my beloved child was helpful in restoring me to myself, I will be
11261
helpful now in restoring the dearest part of herself to her; by the aid
11262
of Heaven I will do it!" Thus, Doctor Manette. And when Jarvis Lorry saw
11263
the kindled eyes, the resolute face, the calm strong look and bearing
11264
of the man whose life always seemed to him to have been stopped, like a
11265
clock, for so many years, and then set going again with an energy which
11266
had lain dormant during the cessation of its usefulness, he believed.
11267

11268
Greater things than the Doctor had at that time to contend with, would
11269
have yielded before his persevering purpose. While he kept himself
11270
in his place, as a physician, whose business was with all degrees
11271
of mankind, bond and free, rich and poor, bad and good, he used his
11272
personal influence so wisely, that he was soon the inspecting physician
11273
of three prisons, and among them of La Force. He could now assure Lucie
11274
that her husband was no longer confined alone, but was mixed with the
11275
general body of prisoners; he saw her husband weekly, and brought sweet
11276
messages to her, straight from his lips; sometimes her husband himself
11277
sent a letter to her (though never by the Doctor's hand), but she was
11278
not permitted to write to him: for, among the many wild suspicions of
11279
plots in the prisons, the wildest of all pointed at emigrants who were
11280
known to have made friends or permanent connections abroad.
11281

11282
This new life of the Doctor's was an anxious life, no doubt; still, the
11283
sagacious Mr. Lorry saw that there was a new sustaining pride in it.
11284
Nothing unbecoming tinged the pride; it was a natural and worthy one;
11285
but he observed it as a curiosity. The Doctor knew, that up to that
11286
time, his imprisonment had been associated in the minds of his daughter
11287
and his friend, with his personal affliction, deprivation, and weakness.
11288
Now that this was changed, and he knew himself to be invested through
11289
that old trial with forces to which they both looked for Charles's
11290
ultimate safety and deliverance, he became so far exalted by the change,
11291
that he took the lead and direction, and required them as the weak, to
11292
trust to him as the strong. The preceding relative positions of himself
11293
and Lucie were reversed, yet only as the liveliest gratitude and
11294
affection could reverse them, for he could have had no pride but in
11295
rendering some service to her who had rendered so much to him. "All
11296
curious to see," thought Mr. Lorry, in his amiably shrewd way, "but all
11297
natural and right; so, take the lead, my dear friend, and keep it; it
11298
couldn't be in better hands."
11299

11300
But, though the Doctor tried hard, and never ceased trying, to get
11301
Charles Darnay set at liberty, or at least to get him brought to trial,
11302
the public current of the time set too strong and fast for him. The new
11303
era began; the king was tried, doomed, and beheaded; the Republic of
11304
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, declared for victory or death
11305
against the world in arms; the black flag waved night and day from the
11306
great towers of Notre Dame; three hundred thousand men, summoned to rise
11307
against the tyrants of the earth, rose from all the varying soils
11308
of France, as if the dragon's teeth had been sown broadcast, and
11309
had yielded fruit equally on hill and plain, on rock, in gravel, and
11310
alluvial mud, under the bright sky of the South and under the clouds of
11311
the North, in fell and forest, in the vineyards and the olive-grounds
11312
and among the cropped grass and the stubble of the corn, along the
11313
fruitful banks of the broad rivers, and in the sand of the sea-shore.
11314
What private solicitude could rear itself against the deluge of the Year
11315
One of Liberty--the deluge rising from below, not falling from above,
11316
and with the windows of Heaven shut, not opened!
11317

11318
There was no pause, no pity, no peace, no interval of relenting rest, no
11319
measurement of time. Though days and nights circled as regularly as when
11320
time was young, and the evening and morning were the first day, other
11321
count of time there was none. Hold of it was lost in the raging fever
11322
of a nation, as it is in the fever of one patient. Now, breaking the
11323
unnatural silence of a whole city, the executioner showed the people the
11324
head of the king--and now, it seemed almost in the same breath, the
11325
head of his fair wife which had had eight weary months of imprisoned
11326
widowhood and misery, to turn it grey.
11327

11328
And yet, observing the strange law of contradiction which obtains in
11329
all such cases, the time was long, while it flamed by so fast. A
11330
revolutionary tribunal in the capital, and forty or fifty thousand
11331
revolutionary committees all over the land; a law of the Suspected,
11332
which struck away all security for liberty or life, and delivered over
11333
any good and innocent person to any bad and guilty one; prisons gorged
11334
with people who had committed no offence, and could obtain no hearing;
11335
these things became the established order and nature of appointed
11336
things, and seemed to be ancient usage before they were many weeks old.
11337
Above all, one hideous figure grew as familiar as if it had been before
11338
the general gaze from the foundations of the world--the figure of the
11339
sharp female called La Guillotine.
11340

11341
It was the popular theme for jests; it was the best cure for headache,
11342
it infallibly prevented the hair from turning grey, it imparted a
11343
peculiar delicacy to the complexion, it was the National Razor which
11344
shaved close: who kissed La Guillotine, looked through the little window
11345
and sneezed into the sack. It was the sign of the regeneration of the
11346
human race. It superseded the Cross. Models of it were worn on breasts
11347
from which the Cross was discarded, and it was bowed down to and
11348
believed in where the Cross was denied.
11349

11350
It sheared off heads so many, that it, and the ground it most polluted,
11351
were a rotten red. It was taken to pieces, like a toy-puzzle for a young
11352
Devil, and was put together again when the occasion wanted it. It hushed
11353
the eloquent, struck down the powerful, abolished the beautiful and
11354
good. Twenty-two friends of high public mark, twenty-one living and one
11355
dead, it had lopped the heads off, in one morning, in as many minutes.
11356
The name of the strong man of Old Scripture had descended to the chief
11357
functionary who worked it; but, so armed, he was stronger than his
11358
namesake, and blinder, and tore away the gates of God's own Temple every
11359
day.
11360

11361
Among these terrors, and the brood belonging to them, the Doctor walked
11362
with a steady head: confident in his power, cautiously persistent in his
11363
end, never doubting that he would save Lucie's husband at last. Yet the
11364
current of the time swept by, so strong and deep, and carried the time
11365
away so fiercely, that Charles had lain in prison one year and three
11366
months when the Doctor was thus steady and confident. So much more
11367
wicked and distracted had the Revolution grown in that December month,
11368
that the rivers of the South were encumbered with the bodies of the
11369
violently drowned by night, and prisoners were shot in lines and squares
11370
under the southern wintry sun. Still, the Doctor walked among the
11371
terrors with a steady head. No man better known than he, in Paris at
11372
that day; no man in a stranger situation. Silent, humane, indispensable
11373
in hospital and prison, using his art equally among assassins and
11374
victims, he was a man apart. In the exercise of his skill, the
11375
appearance and the story of the Bastille Captive removed him from all
11376
other men. He was not suspected or brought in question, any more than if
11377
he had indeed been recalled to life some eighteen years before, or were
11378
a Spirit moving among mortals.
11379

11380

11381

11382

11383
V. The Wood-Sawyer
11384

11385

11386
One year and three months. During all that time Lucie was never
11387
sure, from hour to hour, but that the Guillotine would strike off her
11388
husband's head next day. Every day, through the stony streets, the
11389
tumbrils now jolted heavily, filled with Condemned. Lovely girls; bright
11390
women, brown-haired, black-haired, and grey; youths; stalwart men and
11391
old; gentle born and peasant born; all red wine for La Guillotine, all
11392
daily brought into light from the dark cellars of the loathsome prisons,
11393
and carried to her through the streets to slake her devouring thirst.
11394
Liberty, equality, fraternity, or death;--the last, much the easiest to
11395
bestow, O Guillotine!
11396

11397
If the suddenness of her calamity, and the whirling wheels of the time,
11398
had stunned the Doctor's daughter into awaiting the result in idle
11399
despair, it would but have been with her as it was with many. But, from
11400
the hour when she had taken the white head to her fresh young bosom in
11401
the garret of Saint Antoine, she had been true to her duties. She was
11402
truest to them in the season of trial, as all the quietly loyal and good
11403
will always be.
11404

11405
As soon as they were established in their new residence, and her father
11406
had entered on the routine of his avocations, she arranged the little
11407
household as exactly as if her husband had been there. Everything had
11408
its appointed place and its appointed time. Little Lucie she taught,
11409
as regularly, as if they had all been united in their English home. The
11410
slight devices with which she cheated herself into the show of a belief
11411
that they would soon be reunited--the little preparations for his speedy
11412
return, the setting aside of his chair and his books--these, and the
11413
solemn prayer at night for one dear prisoner especially, among the many
11414
unhappy souls in prison and the shadow of death--were almost the only
11415
outspoken reliefs of her heavy mind.
11416

11417
She did not greatly alter in appearance. The plain dark dresses, akin to
11418
mourning dresses, which she and her child wore, were as neat and as well
11419
attended to as the brighter clothes of happy days. She lost her colour,
11420
and the old and intent expression was a constant, not an occasional,
11421
thing; otherwise, she remained very pretty and comely. Sometimes, at
11422
night on kissing her father, she would burst into the grief she had
11423
repressed all day, and would say that her sole reliance, under Heaven,
11424
was on him. He always resolutely answered: "Nothing can happen to him
11425
without my knowledge, and I know that I can save him, Lucie."
11426

11427
They had not made the round of their changed life many weeks, when her
11428
father said to her, on coming home one evening:
11429

11430
"My dear, there is an upper window in the prison, to which Charles can
11431
sometimes gain access at three in the afternoon. When he can get to
11432
it--which depends on many uncertainties and incidents--he might see you
11433
in the street, he thinks, if you stood in a certain place that I can
11434
show you. But you will not be able to see him, my poor child, and even
11435
if you could, it would be unsafe for you to make a sign of recognition."
11436

11437
"O show me the place, my father, and I will go there every day."
11438

11439
From that time, in all weathers, she waited there two hours. As the
11440
clock struck two, she was there, and at four she turned resignedly away.
11441
When it was not too wet or inclement for her child to be with her, they
11442
went together; at other times she was alone; but, she never missed a
11443
single day.
11444

11445
It was the dark and dirty corner of a small winding street. The hovel
11446
of a cutter of wood into lengths for burning, was the only house at that
11447
end; all else was wall. On the third day of her being there, he noticed
11448
her.
11449

11450
"Good day, citizeness."
11451

11452
"Good day, citizen."
11453

11454
This mode of address was now prescribed by decree. It had been
11455
established voluntarily some time ago, among the more thorough patriots;
11456
but, was now law for everybody.
11457

11458
"Walking here again, citizeness?"
11459

11460
"You see me, citizen!"
11461

11462
The wood-sawyer, who was a little man with a redundancy of gesture (he
11463
had once been a mender of roads), cast a glance at the prison, pointed
11464
at the prison, and putting his ten fingers before his face to represent
11465
bars, peeped through them jocosely.
11466

11467
"But it's not my business," said he. And went on sawing his wood.
11468

11469
Next day he was looking out for her, and accosted her the moment she
11470
appeared.
11471

11472
"What? Walking here again, citizeness?"
11473

11474
"Yes, citizen."
11475

11476
"Ah! A child too! Your mother, is it not, my little citizeness?"
11477

11478
"Do I say yes, mamma?" whispered little Lucie, drawing close to her.
11479

11480
"Yes, dearest."
11481

11482
"Yes, citizen."
11483

11484
"Ah! But it's not my business. My work is my business. See my saw! I
11485
call it my Little Guillotine. La, la, la; La, la, la! And off his head
11486
comes!"
11487

11488
The billet fell as he spoke, and he threw it into a basket.
11489

11490
"I call myself the Samson of the firewood guillotine. See here again!
11491
Loo, loo, loo; Loo, loo, loo! And off _her_ head comes! Now, a child.
11492
Tickle, tickle; Pickle, pickle! And off _its_ head comes. All the
11493
family!"
11494

11495
Lucie shuddered as he threw two more billets into his basket, but it was
11496
impossible to be there while the wood-sawyer was at work, and not be in
11497
his sight. Thenceforth, to secure his good will, she always spoke to him
11498
first, and often gave him drink-money, which he readily received.
11499

11500
He was an inquisitive fellow, and sometimes when she had quite forgotten
11501
him in gazing at the prison roof and grates, and in lifting her heart
11502
up to her husband, she would come to herself to find him looking at her,
11503
with his knee on his bench and his saw stopped in its work. "But it's
11504
not my business!" he would generally say at those times, and would
11505
briskly fall to his sawing again.
11506

11507
In all weathers, in the snow and frost of winter, in the bitter winds of
11508
spring, in the hot sunshine of summer, in the rains of autumn, and again
11509
in the snow and frost of winter, Lucie passed two hours of every day at
11510
this place; and every day on leaving it, she kissed the prison wall.
11511
Her husband saw her (so she learned from her father) it might be once in
11512
five or six times: it might be twice or thrice running: it might be, not
11513
for a week or a fortnight together. It was enough that he could and did
11514
see her when the chances served, and on that possibility she would have
11515
waited out the day, seven days a week.
11516

11517
These occupations brought her round to the December month, wherein her
11518
father walked among the terrors with a steady head. On a lightly-snowing
11519
afternoon she arrived at the usual corner. It was a day of some wild
11520
rejoicing, and a festival. She had seen the houses, as she came along,
11521
decorated with little pikes, and with little red caps stuck upon them;
11522
also, with tricoloured ribbons; also, with the standard inscription
11523
(tricoloured letters were the favourite), Republic One and Indivisible.
11524
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death!
11525

11526
The miserable shop of the wood-sawyer was so small, that its whole
11527
surface furnished very indifferent space for this legend. He had got
11528
somebody to scrawl it up for him, however, who had squeezed Death in
11529
with most inappropriate difficulty. On his house-top, he displayed pike
11530
and cap, as a good citizen must, and in a window he had stationed his
11531
saw inscribed as his "Little Sainte Guillotine"--for the great sharp
11532
female was by that time popularly canonised. His shop was shut and he
11533
was not there, which was a relief to Lucie, and left her quite alone.
11534

11535
But, he was not far off, for presently she heard a troubled movement
11536
and a shouting coming along, which filled her with fear. A moment
11537
afterwards, and a throng of people came pouring round the corner by the
11538
prison wall, in the midst of whom was the wood-sawyer hand in hand with
11539
The Vengeance. There could not be fewer than five hundred people, and
11540
they were dancing like five thousand demons. There was no other music
11541
than their own singing. They danced to the popular Revolution song,
11542
keeping a ferocious time that was like a gnashing of teeth in unison.
11543
Men and women danced together, women danced together, men danced
11544
together, as hazard had brought them together. At first, they were a
11545
mere storm of coarse red caps and coarse woollen rags; but, as they
11546
filled the place, and stopped to dance about Lucie, some ghastly
11547
apparition of a dance-figure gone raving mad arose among them. They
11548
advanced, retreated, struck at one another's hands, clutched at one
11549
another's heads, spun round alone, caught one another and spun round
11550
in pairs, until many of them dropped. While those were down, the rest
11551
linked hand in hand, and all spun round together: then the ring broke,
11552
and in separate rings of two and four they turned and turned until they
11553
all stopped at once, began again, struck, clutched, and tore, and then
11554
reversed the spin, and all spun round another way. Suddenly they stopped
11555
again, paused, struck out the time afresh, formed into lines the width
11556
of the public way, and, with their heads low down and their hands high
11557
up, swooped screaming off. No fight could have been half so terrible
11558
as this dance. It was so emphatically a fallen sport--a something, once
11559
innocent, delivered over to all devilry--a healthy pastime changed into
11560
a means of angering the blood, bewildering the senses, and steeling the
11561
heart. Such grace as was visible in it, made it the uglier, showing how
11562
warped and perverted all things good by nature were become. The maidenly
11563
bosom bared to this, the pretty almost-child's head thus distracted, the
11564
delicate foot mincing in this slough of blood and dirt, were types of
11565
the disjointed time.
11566

11567
This was the Carmagnole. As it passed, leaving Lucie frightened and
11568
bewildered in the doorway of the wood-sawyer's house, the feathery snow
11569
fell as quietly and lay as white and soft, as if it had never been.
11570

11571
"O my father!" for he stood before her when she lifted up the eyes she
11572
had momentarily darkened with her hand; "such a cruel, bad sight."
11573

11574
"I know, my dear, I know. I have seen it many times. Don't be
11575
frightened! Not one of them would harm you."
11576

11577
"I am not frightened for myself, my father. But when I think of my
11578
husband, and the mercies of these people--"
11579

11580
"We will set him above their mercies very soon. I left him climbing to
11581
the window, and I came to tell you. There is no one here to see. You may
11582
kiss your hand towards that highest shelving roof."
11583

11584
"I do so, father, and I send him my Soul with it!"
11585

11586
"You cannot see him, my poor dear?"
11587

11588
"No, father," said Lucie, yearning and weeping as she kissed her hand,
11589
"no."
11590

11591
A footstep in the snow. Madame Defarge. "I salute you, citizeness,"
11592
 from the Doctor. "I salute you, citizen." This in passing. Nothing more.
11593
Madame Defarge gone, like a shadow over the white road.
11594

11595
"Give me your arm, my love. Pass from here with an air of cheerfulness
11596
and courage, for his sake. That was well done;" they had left the spot;
11597
"it shall not be in vain. Charles is summoned for to-morrow."
11598

11599
"For to-morrow!"
11600

11601
"There is no time to lose. I am well prepared, but there are precautions
11602
to be taken, that could not be taken until he was actually summoned
11603
before the Tribunal. He has not received the notice yet, but I know
11604
that he will presently be summoned for to-morrow, and removed to the
11605
Conciergerie; I have timely information. You are not afraid?"
11606

11607
She could scarcely answer, "I trust in you."
11608

11609
"Do so, implicitly. Your suspense is nearly ended, my darling; he shall
11610
be restored to you within a few hours; I have encompassed him with every
11611
protection. I must see Lorry."
11612

11613
He stopped. There was a heavy lumbering of wheels within hearing. They
11614
both knew too well what it meant. One. Two. Three. Three tumbrils faring
11615
away with their dread loads over the hushing snow.
11616

11617
"I must see Lorry," the Doctor repeated, turning her another way.
11618

11619
The staunch old gentleman was still in his trust; had never left it. He
11620
and his books were in frequent requisition as to property confiscated
11621
and made national. What he could save for the owners, he saved. No
11622
better man living to hold fast by what Tellson's had in keeping, and to
11623
hold his peace.
11624

11625
A murky red and yellow sky, and a rising mist from the Seine, denoted
11626
the approach of darkness. It was almost dark when they arrived at the
11627
Bank. The stately residence of Monseigneur was altogether blighted and
11628
deserted. Above a heap of dust and ashes in the court, ran the letters:
11629
National Property. Republic One and Indivisible. Liberty, Equality,
11630
Fraternity, or Death!
11631

11632
Who could that be with Mr. Lorry--the owner of the riding-coat upon the
11633
chair--who must not be seen? From whom newly arrived, did he come out,
11634
agitated and surprised, to take his favourite in his arms? To whom did
11635
he appear to repeat her faltering words, when, raising his voice and
11636
turning his head towards the door of the room from which he had issued,
11637
he said: "Removed to the Conciergerie, and summoned for to-morrow?"
11638

11639

11640

11641

11642
VI. Triumph
11643

11644

11645
The dread tribunal of five Judges, Public Prosecutor, and determined
11646
Jury, sat every day. Their lists went forth every evening, and were
11647
read out by the gaolers of the various prisons to their prisoners. The
11648
standard gaoler-joke was, "Come out and listen to the Evening Paper, you
11649
inside there!"
11650

11651
"Charles Evremonde, called Darnay!"
11652

11653
So at last began the Evening Paper at La Force.
11654

11655
When a name was called, its owner stepped apart into a spot reserved
11656
for those who were announced as being thus fatally recorded. Charles
11657
Evremonde, called Darnay, had reason to know the usage; he had seen
11658
hundreds pass away so.
11659

11660
His bloated gaoler, who wore spectacles to read with, glanced over them
11661
to assure himself that he had taken his place, and went through the
11662
list, making a similar short pause at each name. There were twenty-three
11663
names, but only twenty were responded to; for one of the prisoners so
11664
summoned had died in gaol and been forgotten, and two had already been
11665
guillotined and forgotten. The list was read, in the vaulted chamber
11666
where Darnay had seen the associated prisoners on the night of his
11667
arrival. Every one of those had perished in the massacre; every human
11668
creature he had since cared for and parted with, had died on the
11669
scaffold.
11670

11671
There were hurried words of farewell and kindness, but the parting was
11672
soon over. It was the incident of every day, and the society of La Force
11673
were engaged in the preparation of some games of forfeits and a little
11674
concert, for that evening. They crowded to the grates and shed tears
11675
there; but, twenty places in the projected entertainments had to be
11676
refilled, and the time was, at best, short to the lock-up hour, when the
11677
common rooms and corridors would be delivered over to the great dogs
11678
who kept watch there through the night. The prisoners were far from
11679
insensible or unfeeling; their ways arose out of the condition of the
11680
time. Similarly, though with a subtle difference, a species of fervour
11681
or intoxication, known, without doubt, to have led some persons to
11682
brave the guillotine unnecessarily, and to die by it, was not mere
11683
boastfulness, but a wild infection of the wildly shaken public mind. In
11684
seasons of pestilence, some of us will have a secret attraction to the
11685
disease--a terrible passing inclination to die of it. And all of us have
11686
like wonders hidden in our breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke
11687
them.
11688

11689
The passage to the Conciergerie was short and dark; the night in its
11690
vermin-haunted cells was long and cold. Next day, fifteen prisoners were
11691
put to the bar before Charles Darnay's name was called. All the fifteen
11692
were condemned, and the trials of the whole occupied an hour and a half.
11693

11694
"Charles Evremonde, called Darnay," was at length arraigned.
11695

11696
His judges sat upon the Bench in feathered hats; but the rough red cap
11697
and tricoloured cockade was the head-dress otherwise prevailing. Looking
11698
at the Jury and the turbulent audience, he might have thought that the
11699
usual order of things was reversed, and that the felons were trying the
11700
honest men. The lowest, cruelest, and worst populace of a city, never
11701
without its quantity of low, cruel, and bad, were the directing
11702
spirits of the scene: noisily commenting, applauding, disapproving,
11703
anticipating, and precipitating the result, without a check. Of the men,
11704
the greater part were armed in various ways; of the women, some wore
11705
knives, some daggers, some ate and drank as they looked on, many
11706
knitted. Among these last, was one, with a spare piece of knitting under
11707
her arm as she worked. She was in a front row, by the side of a man whom
11708
he had never seen since his arrival at the Barrier, but whom he directly
11709
remembered as Defarge. He noticed that she once or twice whispered in
11710
his ear, and that she seemed to be his wife; but, what he most noticed
11711
in the two figures was, that although they were posted as close to
11712
himself as they could be, they never looked towards him. They seemed to
11713
be waiting for something with a dogged determination, and they looked at
11714
the Jury, but at nothing else. Under the President sat Doctor Manette,
11715
in his usual quiet dress. As well as the prisoner could see, he and Mr.
11716
Lorry were the only men there, unconnected with the Tribunal, who
11717
wore their usual clothes, and had not assumed the coarse garb of the
11718
Carmagnole.
11719

11720
Charles Evremonde, called Darnay, was accused by the public prosecutor
11721
as an emigrant, whose life was forfeit to the Republic, under the decree
11722
which banished all emigrants on pain of Death. It was nothing that the
11723
decree bore date since his return to France. There he was, and there was
11724
the decree; he had been taken in France, and his head was demanded.
11725

11726
"Take off his head!" cried the audience. "An enemy to the Republic!"
11727

11728
The President rang his bell to silence those cries, and asked the
11729
prisoner whether it was not true that he had lived many years in
11730
England?
11731

11732
Undoubtedly it was.
11733

11734
Was he not an emigrant then? What did he call himself?
11735

11736
Not an emigrant, he hoped, within the sense and spirit of the law.
11737

11738
Why not? the President desired to know.
11739

11740
Because he had voluntarily relinquished a title that was distasteful
11741
to him, and a station that was distasteful to him, and had left
11742
his country--he submitted before the word emigrant in the present
11743
acceptation by the Tribunal was in use--to live by his own industry in
11744
England, rather than on the industry of the overladen people of France.
11745

11746
What proof had he of this?
11747

11748
He handed in the names of two witnesses; Theophile Gabelle, and
11749
Alexandre Manette.
11750

11751
But he had married in England? the President reminded him.
11752

11753
True, but not an English woman.
11754

11755
A citizeness of France?
11756

11757
Yes. By birth.
11758

11759
Her name and family?
11760

11761
"Lucie Manette, only daughter of Doctor Manette, the good physician who
11762
sits there."
11763

11764
This answer had a happy effect upon the audience. Cries in exaltation
11765
of the well-known good physician rent the hall. So capriciously were
11766
the people moved, that tears immediately rolled down several ferocious
11767
countenances which had been glaring at the prisoner a moment before, as
11768
if with impatience to pluck him out into the streets and kill him.
11769

11770
On these few steps of his dangerous way, Charles Darnay had set his foot
11771
according to Doctor Manette's reiterated instructions. The same cautious
11772
counsel directed every step that lay before him, and had prepared every
11773
inch of his road.
11774

11775
The President asked, why had he returned to France when he did, and not
11776
sooner?
11777

11778
He had not returned sooner, he replied, simply because he had no means
11779
of living in France, save those he had resigned; whereas, in England,
11780
he lived by giving instruction in the French language and literature.
11781
He had returned when he did, on the pressing and written entreaty of
11782
a French citizen, who represented that his life was endangered by his
11783
absence. He had come back, to save a citizen's life, and to bear his
11784
testimony, at whatever personal hazard, to the truth. Was that criminal
11785
in the eyes of the Republic?
11786

11787
The populace cried enthusiastically, "No!" and the President rang his
11788
bell to quiet them. Which it did not, for they continued to cry "No!"
11789
 until they left off, of their own will.
11790

11791
The President required the name of that citizen. The accused explained
11792
that the citizen was his first witness. He also referred with confidence
11793
to the citizen's letter, which had been taken from him at the Barrier,
11794
but which he did not doubt would be found among the papers then before
11795
the President.
11796

11797
The Doctor had taken care that it should be there--had assured him that
11798
it would be there--and at this stage of the proceedings it was produced
11799
and read. Citizen Gabelle was called to confirm it, and did so. Citizen
11800
Gabelle hinted, with infinite delicacy and politeness, that in the
11801
pressure of business imposed on the Tribunal by the multitude of
11802
enemies of the Republic with which it had to deal, he had been slightly
11803
overlooked in his prison of the Abbaye--in fact, had rather passed out
11804
of the Tribunal's patriotic remembrance--until three days ago; when he
11805
had been summoned before it, and had been set at liberty on the Jury's
11806
declaring themselves satisfied that the accusation against him was
11807
answered, as to himself, by the surrender of the citizen Evremonde,
11808
called Darnay.
11809

11810
Doctor Manette was next questioned. His high personal popularity,
11811
and the clearness of his answers, made a great impression; but, as he
11812
proceeded, as he showed that the Accused was his first friend on his
11813
release from his long imprisonment; that, the accused had remained in
11814
England, always faithful and devoted to his daughter and himself in
11815
their exile; that, so far from being in favour with the Aristocrat
11816
government there, he had actually been tried for his life by it, as
11817
the foe of England and friend of the United States--as he brought these
11818
circumstances into view, with the greatest discretion and with the
11819
straightforward force of truth and earnestness, the Jury and the
11820
populace became one. At last, when he appealed by name to Monsieur
11821
Lorry, an English gentleman then and there present, who, like himself,
11822
had been a witness on that English trial and could corroborate his
11823
account of it, the Jury declared that they had heard enough, and that
11824
they were ready with their votes if the President were content to
11825
receive them.
11826

11827
At every vote (the Jurymen voted aloud and individually), the populace
11828
set up a shout of applause. All the voices were in the prisoner's
11829
favour, and the President declared him free.
11830

11831
Then, began one of those extraordinary scenes with which the populace
11832
sometimes gratified their fickleness, or their better impulses towards
11833
generosity and mercy, or which they regarded as some set-off against
11834
their swollen account of cruel rage. No man can decide now to which of
11835
these motives such extraordinary scenes were referable; it is probable,
11836
to a blending of all the three, with the second predominating. No sooner
11837
was the acquittal pronounced, than tears were shed as freely as blood
11838
at another time, and such fraternal embraces were bestowed upon the
11839
prisoner by as many of both sexes as could rush at him, that after
11840
his long and unwholesome confinement he was in danger of fainting from
11841
exhaustion; none the less because he knew very well, that the very same
11842
people, carried by another current, would have rushed at him with
11843
the very same intensity, to rend him to pieces and strew him over the
11844
streets.
11845

11846
His removal, to make way for other accused persons who were to be tried,
11847
rescued him from these caresses for the moment. Five were to be tried
11848
together, next, as enemies of the Republic, forasmuch as they had not
11849
assisted it by word or deed. So quick was the Tribunal to compensate
11850
itself and the nation for a chance lost, that these five came down to
11851
him before he left the place, condemned to die within twenty-four
11852
hours. The first of them told him so, with the customary prison sign
11853
of Death--a raised finger--and they all added in words, "Long live the
11854
Republic!"
11855

11856
The five had had, it is true, no audience to lengthen their proceedings,
11857
for when he and Doctor Manette emerged from the gate, there was a great
11858
crowd about it, in which there seemed to be every face he had seen in
11859
Court--except two, for which he looked in vain. On his coming out, the
11860
concourse made at him anew, weeping, embracing, and shouting, all by
11861
turns and all together, until the very tide of the river on the bank of
11862
which the mad scene was acted, seemed to run mad, like the people on the
11863
shore.
11864

11865
They put him into a great chair they had among them, and which they had
11866
taken either out of the Court itself, or one of its rooms or passages.
11867
Over the chair they had thrown a red flag, and to the back of it they
11868
had bound a pike with a red cap on its top. In this car of triumph, not
11869
even the Doctor's entreaties could prevent his being carried to his home
11870
on men's shoulders, with a confused sea of red caps heaving about him,
11871
and casting up to sight from the stormy deep such wrecks of faces, that
11872
he more than once misdoubted his mind being in confusion, and that he
11873
was in the tumbril on his way to the Guillotine.
11874

11875
In wild dreamlike procession, embracing whom they met and pointing
11876
him out, they carried him on. Reddening the snowy streets with the
11877
prevailing Republican colour, in winding and tramping through them, as
11878
they had reddened them below the snow with a deeper dye, they carried
11879
him thus into the courtyard of the building where he lived. Her father
11880
had gone on before, to prepare her, and when her husband stood upon his
11881
feet, she dropped insensible in his arms.
11882

11883
As he held her to his heart and turned her beautiful head between his
11884
face and the brawling crowd, so that his tears and her lips might come
11885
together unseen, a few of the people fell to dancing. Instantly, all the
11886
rest fell to dancing, and the courtyard overflowed with the Carmagnole.
11887
Then, they elevated into the vacant chair a young woman from the
11888
crowd to be carried as the Goddess of Liberty, and then swelling and
11889
overflowing out into the adjacent streets, and along the river's bank,
11890
and over the bridge, the Carmagnole absorbed them every one and whirled
11891
them away.
11892

11893
After grasping the Doctor's hand, as he stood victorious and proud
11894
before him; after grasping the hand of Mr. Lorry, who came panting in
11895
breathless from his struggle against the waterspout of the Carmagnole;
11896
after kissing little Lucie, who was lifted up to clasp her arms round
11897
his neck; and after embracing the ever zealous and faithful Pross who
11898
lifted her; he took his wife in his arms, and carried her up to their
11899
rooms.
11900

11901
"Lucie! My own! I am safe."
11902

11903
"O dearest Charles, let me thank God for this on my knees as I have
11904
prayed to Him."
11905

11906
They all reverently bowed their heads and hearts. When she was again in
11907
his arms, he said to her:
11908

11909
"And now speak to your father, dearest. No other man in all this France
11910
could have done what he has done for me."
11911

11912
She laid her head upon her father's breast, as she had laid his poor
11913
head on her own breast, long, long ago. He was happy in the return he
11914
had made her, he was recompensed for his suffering, he was proud of his
11915
strength. "You must not be weak, my darling," he remonstrated; "don't
11916
tremble so. I have saved him."
11917

11918

11919

11920

11921
VII. A Knock at the Door
11922

11923

11924
"I have saved him." It was not another of the dreams in which he had
11925
often come back; he was really here. And yet his wife trembled, and a
11926
vague but heavy fear was upon her.
11927

11928
All the air round was so thick and dark, the people were so passionately
11929
revengeful and fitful, the innocent were so constantly put to death on
11930
vague suspicion and black malice, it was so impossible to forget that
11931
many as blameless as her husband and as dear to others as he was to
11932
her, every day shared the fate from which he had been clutched, that her
11933
heart could not be as lightened of its load as she felt it ought to be.
11934
The shadows of the wintry afternoon were beginning to fall, and even now
11935
the dreadful carts were rolling through the streets. Her mind pursued
11936
them, looking for him among the Condemned; and then she clung closer to
11937
his real presence and trembled more.
11938

11939
Her father, cheering her, showed a compassionate superiority to this
11940
woman's weakness, which was wonderful to see. No garret, no shoemaking,
11941
no One Hundred and Five, North Tower, now! He had accomplished the task
11942
he had set himself, his promise was redeemed, he had saved Charles. Let
11943
them all lean upon him.
11944

11945
Their housekeeping was of a very frugal kind: not only because that was
11946
the safest way of life, involving the least offence to the people, but
11947
because they were not rich, and Charles, throughout his imprisonment,
11948
had had to pay heavily for his bad food, and for his guard, and towards
11949
the living of the poorer prisoners. Partly on this account, and
11950
partly to avoid a domestic spy, they kept no servant; the citizen and
11951
citizeness who acted as porters at the courtyard gate, rendered them
11952
occasional service; and Jerry (almost wholly transferred to them by
11953
Mr. Lorry) had become their daily retainer, and had his bed there every
11954
night.
11955

11956
It was an ordinance of the Republic One and Indivisible of Liberty,
11957
Equality, Fraternity, or Death, that on the door or doorpost of every
11958
house, the name of every inmate must be legibly inscribed in letters
11959
of a certain size, at a certain convenient height from the ground. Mr.
11960
Jerry Cruncher's name, therefore, duly embellished the doorpost down
11961
below; and, as the afternoon shadows deepened, the owner of that name
11962
himself appeared, from overlooking a painter whom Doctor Manette had
11963
employed to add to the list the name of Charles Evremonde, called
11964
Darnay.
11965

11966
In the universal fear and distrust that darkened the time, all the usual
11967
harmless ways of life were changed. In the Doctor's little household, as
11968
in very many others, the articles of daily consumption that were wanted
11969
were purchased every evening, in small quantities and at various small
11970
shops. To avoid attracting notice, and to give as little occasion as
11971
possible for talk and envy, was the general desire.
11972

11973
For some months past, Miss Pross and Mr. Cruncher had discharged the
11974
office of purveyors; the former carrying the money; the latter, the
11975
basket. Every afternoon at about the time when the public lamps were
11976
lighted, they fared forth on this duty, and made and brought home
11977
such purchases as were needful. Although Miss Pross, through her long
11978
association with a French family, might have known as much of their
11979
language as of her own, if she had had a mind, she had no mind in that
11980
direction; consequently she knew no more of that "nonsense" (as she was
11981
pleased to call it) than Mr. Cruncher did. So her manner of marketing
11982
was to plump a noun-substantive at the head of a shopkeeper without any
11983
introduction in the nature of an article, and, if it happened not to be
11984
the name of the thing she wanted, to look round for that thing, lay hold
11985
of it, and hold on by it until the bargain was concluded. She always
11986
made a bargain for it, by holding up, as a statement of its just price,
11987
one finger less than the merchant held up, whatever his number might be.
11988

11989
"Now, Mr. Cruncher," said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with felicity;
11990
"if you are ready, I am."
11991

11992
Jerry hoarsely professed himself at Miss Pross's service. He had worn
11993
all his rust off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky head down.
11994

11995
"There's all manner of things wanted," said Miss Pross, "and we shall
11996
have a precious time of it. We want wine, among the rest. Nice toasts
11997
these Redheads will be drinking, wherever we buy it."
11998

11999
"It will be much the same to your knowledge, miss, I should think,"
12000
 retorted Jerry, "whether they drink your health or the Old Un's."
12001

12002
"Who's he?" said Miss Pross.
12003

12004
Mr. Cruncher, with some diffidence, explained himself as meaning "Old
12005
Nick's."
12006

12007
"Ha!" said Miss Pross, "it doesn't need an interpreter to explain the
12008
meaning of these creatures. They have but one, and it's Midnight Murder,
12009
and Mischief."
12010

12011
"Hush, dear! Pray, pray, be cautious!" cried Lucie.
12012

12013
"Yes, yes, yes, I'll be cautious," said Miss Pross; "but I may say
12014
among ourselves, that I do hope there will be no oniony and tobaccoey
12015
smotherings in the form of embracings all round, going on in the
12016
streets. Now, Ladybird, never you stir from that fire till I come back!
12017
Take care of the dear husband you have recovered, and don't move your
12018
pretty head from his shoulder as you have it now, till you see me again!
12019
May I ask a question, Doctor Manette, before I go?"
12020

12021
"I think you may take that liberty," the Doctor answered, smiling.
12022

12023
"For gracious sake, don't talk about Liberty; we have quite enough of
12024
that," said Miss Pross.
12025

12026
"Hush, dear! Again?" Lucie remonstrated.
12027

12028
"Well, my sweet," said Miss Pross, nodding her head emphatically, "the
12029
short and the long of it is, that I am a subject of His Most Gracious
12030
Majesty King George the Third;" Miss Pross curtseyed at the name; "and
12031
as such, my maxim is, Confound their politics, Frustrate their knavish
12032
tricks, On him our hopes we fix, God save the King!"
12033

12034
Mr. Cruncher, in an access of loyalty, growlingly repeated the words
12035
after Miss Pross, like somebody at church.
12036

12037
"I am glad you have so much of the Englishman in you, though I wish you
12038
had never taken that cold in your voice," said Miss Pross, approvingly.
12039
"But the question, Doctor Manette. Is there"--it was the good creature's
12040
way to affect to make light of anything that was a great anxiety
12041
with them all, and to come at it in this chance manner--"is there any
12042
prospect yet, of our getting out of this place?"
12043

12044
"I fear not yet. It would be dangerous for Charles yet."
12045

12046
"Heigh-ho-hum!" said Miss Pross, cheerfully repressing a sigh as she
12047
glanced at her darling's golden hair in the light of the fire, "then we
12048
must have patience and wait: that's all. We must hold up our heads and
12049
fight low, as my brother Solomon used to say. Now, Mr. Cruncher!--Don't
12050
you move, Ladybird!"
12051

12052
They went out, leaving Lucie, and her husband, her father, and the
12053
child, by a bright fire. Mr. Lorry was expected back presently from the
12054
Banking House. Miss Pross had lighted the lamp, but had put it aside in
12055
a corner, that they might enjoy the fire-light undisturbed. Little Lucie
12056
sat by her grandfather with her hands clasped through his arm: and he,
12057
in a tone not rising much above a whisper, began to tell her a story of
12058
a great and powerful Fairy who had opened a prison-wall and let out
12059
a captive who had once done the Fairy a service. All was subdued and
12060
quiet, and Lucie was more at ease than she had been.
12061

12062
"What is that?" she cried, all at once.
12063

12064
"My dear!" said her father, stopping in his story, and laying his hand
12065
on hers, "command yourself. What a disordered state you are in! The
12066
least thing--nothing--startles you! _You_, your father's daughter!"
12067

12068
"I thought, my father," said Lucie, excusing herself, with a pale face
12069
and in a faltering voice, "that I heard strange feet upon the stairs."
12070

12071
"My love, the staircase is as still as Death."
12072

12073
As he said the word, a blow was struck upon the door.
12074

12075
"Oh father, father. What can this be! Hide Charles. Save him!"
12076

12077
"My child," said the Doctor, rising, and laying his hand upon her
12078
shoulder, "I _have_ saved him. What weakness is this, my dear! Let me go
12079
to the door."
12080

12081
He took the lamp in his hand, crossed the two intervening outer rooms,
12082
and opened it. A rude clattering of feet over the floor, and four rough
12083
men in red caps, armed with sabres and pistols, entered the room.
12084

12085
"The Citizen Evremonde, called Darnay," said the first.
12086

12087
"Who seeks him?" answered Darnay.
12088

12089
"I seek him. We seek him. I know you, Evremonde; I saw you before the
12090
Tribunal to-day. You are again the prisoner of the Republic."
12091

12092
The four surrounded him, where he stood with his wife and child clinging
12093
to him.
12094

12095
"Tell me how and why am I again a prisoner?"
12096

12097
"It is enough that you return straight to the Conciergerie, and will
12098
know to-morrow. You are summoned for to-morrow."
12099

12100
Doctor Manette, whom this visitation had so turned into stone, that he
12101
stood with the lamp in his hand, as if he were a statue made to hold it,
12102
moved after these words were spoken, put the lamp down, and confronting
12103
the speaker, and taking him, not ungently, by the loose front of his red
12104
woollen shirt, said:
12105

12106
"You know him, you have said. Do you know me?"
12107

12108
"Yes, I know you, Citizen Doctor."
12109

12110
"We all know you, Citizen Doctor," said the other three.
12111

12112
He looked abstractedly from one to another, and said, in a lower voice,
12113
after a pause:
12114

12115
"Will you answer his question to me then? How does this happen?"
12116

12117
"Citizen Doctor," said the first, reluctantly, "he has been denounced to
12118
the Section of Saint Antoine. This citizen," pointing out the second who
12119
had entered, "is from Saint Antoine."
12120

12121
The citizen here indicated nodded his head, and added:
12122

12123
"He is accused by Saint Antoine."
12124

12125
"Of what?" asked the Doctor.
12126

12127
"Citizen Doctor," said the first, with his former reluctance, "ask no
12128
more. If the Republic demands sacrifices from you, without doubt you as
12129
a good patriot will be happy to make them. The Republic goes before all.
12130
The People is supreme. Evremonde, we are pressed."
12131

12132
"One word," the Doctor entreated. "Will you tell me who denounced him?"
12133

12134
"It is against rule," answered the first; "but you can ask Him of Saint
12135
Antoine here."
12136

12137
The Doctor turned his eyes upon that man. Who moved uneasily on his
12138
feet, rubbed his beard a little, and at length said:
12139

12140
"Well! Truly it is against rule. But he is denounced--and gravely--by
12141
the Citizen and Citizeness Defarge. And by one other."
12142

12143
"What other?"
12144

12145
"Do _you_ ask, Citizen Doctor?"
12146

12147
"Yes."
12148

12149
"Then," said he of Saint Antoine, with a strange look, "you will be
12150
answered to-morrow. Now, I am dumb!"
12151

12152

12153

12154

12155
VIII. A Hand at Cards
12156

12157

12158
Happily unconscious of the new calamity at home, Miss Pross threaded her
12159
way along the narrow streets and crossed the river by the bridge of the
12160
Pont-Neuf, reckoning in her mind the number of indispensable purchases
12161
she had to make. Mr. Cruncher, with the basket, walked at her side. They
12162
both looked to the right and to the left into most of the shops they
12163
passed, had a wary eye for all gregarious assemblages of people, and
12164
turned out of their road to avoid any very excited group of talkers. It
12165
was a raw evening, and the misty river, blurred to the eye with blazing
12166
lights and to the ear with harsh noises, showed where the barges were
12167
stationed in which the smiths worked, making guns for the Army of the
12168
Republic. Woe to the man who played tricks with _that_ Army, or got
12169
undeserved promotion in it! Better for him that his beard had never
12170
grown, for the National Razor shaved him close.
12171

12172
Having purchased a few small articles of grocery, and a measure of oil
12173
for the lamp, Miss Pross bethought herself of the wine they wanted.
12174
After peeping into several wine-shops, she stopped at the sign of the
12175
Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity, not far from the National Palace,
12176
once (and twice) the Tuileries, where the aspect of things rather
12177
took her fancy. It had a quieter look than any other place of the same
12178
description they had passed, and, though red with patriotic caps, was
12179
not so red as the rest. Sounding Mr. Cruncher, and finding him of her
12180
opinion, Miss Pross resorted to the Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity,
12181
attended by her cavalier.
12182

12183
Slightly observant of the smoky lights; of the people, pipe in mouth,
12184
playing with limp cards and yellow dominoes; of the one bare-breasted,
12185
bare-armed, soot-begrimed workman reading a journal aloud, and of
12186
the others listening to him; of the weapons worn, or laid aside to be
12187
resumed; of the two or three customers fallen forward asleep, who in the
12188
popular high-shouldered shaggy black spencer looked, in that attitude,
12189
like slumbering bears or dogs; the two outlandish customers approached
12190
the counter, and showed what they wanted.
12191

12192
As their wine was measuring out, a man parted from another man in a
12193
corner, and rose to depart. In going, he had to face Miss Pross. No
12194
sooner did he face her, than Miss Pross uttered a scream, and clapped
12195
her hands.
12196

12197
In a moment, the whole company were on their feet. That somebody was
12198
assassinated by somebody vindicating a difference of opinion was the
12199
likeliest occurrence. Everybody looked to see somebody fall, but only
12200
saw a man and a woman standing staring at each other; the man with all
12201
the outward aspect of a Frenchman and a thorough Republican; the woman,
12202
evidently English.
12203

12204
What was said in this disappointing anti-climax, by the disciples of the
12205
Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity, except that it was something very
12206
voluble and loud, would have been as so much Hebrew or Chaldean to Miss
12207
Pross and her protector, though they had been all ears. But, they had no
12208
ears for anything in their surprise. For, it must be recorded, that
12209
not only was Miss Pross lost in amazement and agitation, but,
12210
Mr. Cruncher--though it seemed on his own separate and individual
12211
account--was in a state of the greatest wonder.
12212

12213
"What is the matter?" said the man who had caused Miss Pross to scream;
12214
speaking in a vexed, abrupt voice (though in a low tone), and in
12215
English.
12216

12217
"Oh, Solomon, dear Solomon!" cried Miss Pross, clapping her hands again.
12218
"After not setting eyes upon you or hearing of you for so long a time,
12219
do I find you here!"
12220

12221
"Don't call me Solomon. Do you want to be the death of me?" asked the
12222
man, in a furtive, frightened way.
12223

12224
"Brother, brother!" cried Miss Pross, bursting into tears. "Have I ever
12225
been so hard with you that you ask me such a cruel question?"
12226

12227
"Then hold your meddlesome tongue," said Solomon, "and come out, if you
12228
want to speak to me. Pay for your wine, and come out. Who's this man?"
12229

12230
Miss Pross, shaking her loving and dejected head at her by no means
12231
affectionate brother, said through her tears, "Mr. Cruncher."
12232

12233
"Let him come out too," said Solomon. "Does he think me a ghost?"
12234

12235
Apparently, Mr. Cruncher did, to judge from his looks. He said not a
12236
word, however, and Miss Pross, exploring the depths of her reticule
12237
through her tears with great difficulty paid for her wine. As she did
12238
so, Solomon turned to the followers of the Good Republican Brutus
12239
of Antiquity, and offered a few words of explanation in the French
12240
language, which caused them all to relapse into their former places and
12241
pursuits.
12242

12243
"Now," said Solomon, stopping at the dark street corner, "what do you
12244
want?"
12245

12246
"How dreadfully unkind in a brother nothing has ever turned my love away
12247
from!" cried Miss Pross, "to give me such a greeting, and show me no
12248
affection."
12249

12250
"There. Confound it! There," said Solomon, making a dab at Miss Pross's
12251
lips with his own. "Now are you content?"
12252

12253
Miss Pross only shook her head and wept in silence.
12254

12255
"If you expect me to be surprised," said her brother Solomon, "I am not
12256
surprised; I knew you were here; I know of most people who are here. If
12257
you really don't want to endanger my existence--which I half believe you
12258
do--go your ways as soon as possible, and let me go mine. I am busy. I
12259
am an official."
12260

12261
"My English brother Solomon," mourned Miss Pross, casting up her
12262
tear-fraught eyes, "that had the makings in him of one of the best and
12263
greatest of men in his native country, an official among foreigners, and
12264
such foreigners! I would almost sooner have seen the dear boy lying in
12265
his--"
12266

12267
"I said so!" cried her brother, interrupting. "I knew it. You want to be
12268
the death of me. I shall be rendered Suspected, by my own sister. Just
12269
as I am getting on!"
12270

12271
"The gracious and merciful Heavens forbid!" cried Miss Pross. "Far
12272
rather would I never see you again, dear Solomon, though I have ever
12273
loved you truly, and ever shall. Say but one affectionate word to me,
12274
and tell me there is nothing angry or estranged between us, and I will
12275
detain you no longer."
12276

12277
Good Miss Pross! As if the estrangement between them had come of any
12278
culpability of hers. As if Mr. Lorry had not known it for a fact, years
12279
ago, in the quiet corner in Soho, that this precious brother had spent
12280
her money and left her!
12281

12282
He was saying the affectionate word, however, with a far more grudging
12283
condescension and patronage than he could have shown if their relative
12284
merits and positions had been reversed (which is invariably the case,
12285
all the world over), when Mr. Cruncher, touching him on the shoulder,
12286
hoarsely and unexpectedly interposed with the following singular
12287
question:
12288

12289
"I say! Might I ask the favour? As to whether your name is John Solomon,
12290
or Solomon John?"
12291

12292
The official turned towards him with sudden distrust. He had not
12293
previously uttered a word.
12294

12295
"Come!" said Mr. Cruncher. "Speak out, you know." (Which, by the way,
12296
was more than he could do himself.) "John Solomon, or Solomon John? She
12297
calls you Solomon, and she must know, being your sister. And _I_ know
12298
you're John, you know. Which of the two goes first? And regarding that
12299
name of Pross, likewise. That warn't your name over the water."
12300

12301
"What do you mean?"
12302

12303
"Well, I don't know all I mean, for I can't call to mind what your name
12304
was, over the water."
12305

12306
"No?"
12307

12308
"No. But I'll swear it was a name of two syllables."
12309

12310
"Indeed?"
12311

12312
"Yes. T'other one's was one syllable. I know you. You was a spy--witness
12313
at the Bailey. What, in the name of the Father of Lies, own father to
12314
yourself, was you called at that time?"
12315

12316
"Barsad," said another voice, striking in.
12317

12318
"That's the name for a thousand pound!" cried Jerry.
12319

12320
The speaker who struck in, was Sydney Carton. He had his hands behind
12321
him under the skirts of his riding-coat, and he stood at Mr. Cruncher's
12322
elbow as negligently as he might have stood at the Old Bailey itself.
12323

12324
"Don't be alarmed, my dear Miss Pross. I arrived at Mr. Lorry's, to his
12325
surprise, yesterday evening; we agreed that I would not present myself
12326
elsewhere until all was well, or unless I could be useful; I present
12327
myself here, to beg a little talk with your brother. I wish you had a
12328
better employed brother than Mr. Barsad. I wish for your sake Mr. Barsad
12329
was not a Sheep of the Prisons."
12330

12331
Sheep was a cant word of the time for a spy, under the gaolers. The spy,
12332
who was pale, turned paler, and asked him how he dared--
12333

12334
"I'll tell you," said Sydney. "I lighted on you, Mr. Barsad, coming out
12335
of the prison of the Conciergerie while I was contemplating the walls,
12336
an hour or more ago. You have a face to be remembered, and I remember
12337
faces well. Made curious by seeing you in that connection, and having
12338
a reason, to which you are no stranger, for associating you with
12339
the misfortunes of a friend now very unfortunate, I walked in your
12340
direction. I walked into the wine-shop here, close after you, and
12341
sat near you. I had no difficulty in deducing from your unreserved
12342
conversation, and the rumour openly going about among your admirers, the
12343
nature of your calling. And gradually, what I had done at random, seemed
12344
to shape itself into a purpose, Mr. Barsad."
12345

12346
"What purpose?" the spy asked.
12347

12348
"It would be troublesome, and might be dangerous, to explain in the
12349
street. Could you favour me, in confidence, with some minutes of your
12350
company--at the office of Tellson's Bank, for instance?"
12351

12352
"Under a threat?"
12353

12354
"Oh! Did I say that?"
12355

12356
"Then, why should I go there?"
12357

12358
"Really, Mr. Barsad, I can't say, if you can't."
12359

12360
"Do you mean that you won't say, sir?" the spy irresolutely asked.
12361

12362
"You apprehend me very clearly, Mr. Barsad. I won't."
12363

12364
Carton's negligent recklessness of manner came powerfully in aid of his
12365
quickness and skill, in such a business as he had in his secret mind,
12366
and with such a man as he had to do with. His practised eye saw it, and
12367
made the most of it.
12368

12369
"Now, I told you so," said the spy, casting a reproachful look at his
12370
sister; "if any trouble comes of this, it's your doing."
12371

12372
"Come, come, Mr. Barsad!" exclaimed Sydney. "Don't be ungrateful.
12373
But for my great respect for your sister, I might not have led up so
12374
pleasantly to a little proposal that I wish to make for our mutual
12375
satisfaction. Do you go with me to the Bank?"
12376

12377
"I'll hear what you have got to say. Yes, I'll go with you."
12378

12379
"I propose that we first conduct your sister safely to the corner of her
12380
own street. Let me take your arm, Miss Pross. This is not a good city,
12381
at this time, for you to be out in, unprotected; and as your escort
12382
knows Mr. Barsad, I will invite him to Mr. Lorry's with us. Are we
12383
ready? Come then!"
12384

12385
Miss Pross recalled soon afterwards, and to the end of her life
12386
remembered, that as she pressed her hands on Sydney's arm and looked up
12387
in his face, imploring him to do no hurt to Solomon, there was a braced
12388
purpose in the arm and a kind of inspiration in the eyes, which not only
12389
contradicted his light manner, but changed and raised the man. She was
12390
too much occupied then with fears for the brother who so little deserved
12391
her affection, and with Sydney's friendly reassurances, adequately to
12392
heed what she observed.
12393

12394
They left her at the corner of the street, and Carton led the way to Mr.
12395
Lorry's, which was within a few minutes' walk. John Barsad, or Solomon
12396
Pross, walked at his side.
12397

12398
Mr. Lorry had just finished his dinner, and was sitting before a cheery
12399
little log or two of fire--perhaps looking into their blaze for the
12400
picture of that younger elderly gentleman from Tellson's, who had looked
12401
into the red coals at the Royal George at Dover, now a good many years
12402
ago. He turned his head as they entered, and showed the surprise with
12403
which he saw a stranger.
12404

12405
"Miss Pross's brother, sir," said Sydney. "Mr. Barsad."
12406

12407
"Barsad?" repeated the old gentleman, "Barsad? I have an association
12408
with the name--and with the face."
12409

12410
"I told you you had a remarkable face, Mr. Barsad," observed Carton,
12411
coolly. "Pray sit down."
12412

12413
As he took a chair himself, he supplied the link that Mr. Lorry wanted,
12414
by saying to him with a frown, "Witness at that trial." Mr. Lorry
12415
immediately remembered, and regarded his new visitor with an undisguised
12416
look of abhorrence.
12417

12418
"Mr. Barsad has been recognised by Miss Pross as the affectionate
12419
brother you have heard of," said Sydney, "and has acknowledged the
12420
relationship. I pass to worse news. Darnay has been arrested again."
12421

12422
Struck with consternation, the old gentleman exclaimed, "What do you
12423
tell me! I left him safe and free within these two hours, and am about
12424
to return to him!"
12425

12426
"Arrested for all that. When was it done, Mr. Barsad?"
12427

12428
"Just now, if at all."
12429

12430
"Mr. Barsad is the best authority possible, sir," said Sydney, "and I
12431
have it from Mr. Barsad's communication to a friend and brother Sheep
12432
over a bottle of wine, that the arrest has taken place. He left the
12433
messengers at the gate, and saw them admitted by the porter. There is no
12434
earthly doubt that he is retaken."
12435

12436
Mr. Lorry's business eye read in the speaker's face that it was loss
12437
of time to dwell upon the point. Confused, but sensible that something
12438
might depend on his presence of mind, he commanded himself, and was
12439
silently attentive.
12440

12441
"Now, I trust," said Sydney to him, "that the name and influence of
12442
Doctor Manette may stand him in as good stead to-morrow--you said he
12443
would be before the Tribunal again to-morrow, Mr. Barsad?--"
12444

12445
"Yes; I believe so."
12446

12447
"--In as good stead to-morrow as to-day. But it may not be so. I own
12448
to you, I am shaken, Mr. Lorry, by Doctor Manette's not having had the
12449
power to prevent this arrest."
12450

12451
"He may not have known of it beforehand," said Mr. Lorry.
12452

12453
"But that very circumstance would be alarming, when we remember how
12454
identified he is with his son-in-law."
12455

12456
"That's true," Mr. Lorry acknowledged, with his troubled hand at his
12457
chin, and his troubled eyes on Carton.
12458

12459
"In short," said Sydney, "this is a desperate time, when desperate games
12460
are played for desperate stakes. Let the Doctor play the winning game; I
12461
will play the losing one. No man's life here is worth purchase. Any one
12462
carried home by the people to-day, may be condemned tomorrow. Now, the
12463
stake I have resolved to play for, in case of the worst, is a friend
12464
in the Conciergerie. And the friend I purpose to myself to win, is Mr.
12465
Barsad."
12466

12467
"You need have good cards, sir," said the spy.
12468

12469
"I'll run them over. I'll see what I hold,--Mr. Lorry, you know what a
12470
brute I am; I wish you'd give me a little brandy."
12471

12472
It was put before him, and he drank off a glassful--drank off another
12473
glassful--pushed the bottle thoughtfully away.
12474

12475
"Mr. Barsad," he went on, in the tone of one who really was looking
12476
over a hand at cards: "Sheep of the prisons, emissary of Republican
12477
committees, now turnkey, now prisoner, always spy and secret informer,
12478
so much the more valuable here for being English that an Englishman
12479
is less open to suspicion of subornation in those characters than a
12480
Frenchman, represents himself to his employers under a false name.
12481
That's a very good card. Mr. Barsad, now in the employ of the republican
12482
French government, was formerly in the employ of the aristocratic
12483
English government, the enemy of France and freedom. That's an excellent
12484
card. Inference clear as day in this region of suspicion, that Mr.
12485
Barsad, still in the pay of the aristocratic English government, is the
12486
spy of Pitt, the treacherous foe of the Republic crouching in its bosom,
12487
the English traitor and agent of all mischief so much spoken of and so
12488
difficult to find. That's a card not to be beaten. Have you followed my
12489
hand, Mr. Barsad?"
12490

12491
"Not to understand your play," returned the spy, somewhat uneasily.
12492

12493
"I play my Ace, Denunciation of Mr. Barsad to the nearest Section
12494
Committee. Look over your hand, Mr. Barsad, and see what you have. Don't
12495
hurry."
12496

12497
He drew the bottle near, poured out another glassful of brandy, and
12498
drank it off. He saw that the spy was fearful of his drinking himself
12499
into a fit state for the immediate denunciation of him. Seeing it, he
12500
poured out and drank another glassful.
12501

12502
"Look over your hand carefully, Mr. Barsad. Take time."
12503

12504
It was a poorer hand than he suspected. Mr. Barsad saw losing cards
12505
in it that Sydney Carton knew nothing of. Thrown out of his honourable
12506
employment in England, through too much unsuccessful hard swearing
12507
there--not because he was not wanted there; our English reasons for
12508
vaunting our superiority to secrecy and spies are of very modern
12509
date--he knew that he had crossed the Channel, and accepted service in
12510
France: first, as a tempter and an eavesdropper among his own countrymen
12511
there: gradually, as a tempter and an eavesdropper among the natives. He
12512
knew that under the overthrown government he had been a spy upon Saint
12513
Antoine and Defarge's wine-shop; had received from the watchful police
12514
such heads of information concerning Doctor Manette's imprisonment,
12515
release, and history, as should serve him for an introduction to
12516
familiar conversation with the Defarges; and tried them on Madame
12517
Defarge, and had broken down with them signally. He always remembered
12518
with fear and trembling, that that terrible woman had knitted when he
12519
talked with her, and had looked ominously at him as her fingers moved.
12520
He had since seen her, in the Section of Saint Antoine, over and over
12521
again produce her knitted registers, and denounce people whose lives the
12522
guillotine then surely swallowed up. He knew, as every one employed as
12523
he was did, that he was never safe; that flight was impossible; that
12524
he was tied fast under the shadow of the axe; and that in spite of
12525
his utmost tergiversation and treachery in furtherance of the reigning
12526
terror, a word might bring it down upon him. Once denounced, and on such
12527
grave grounds as had just now been suggested to his mind, he foresaw
12528
that the dreadful woman of whose unrelenting character he had seen many
12529
proofs, would produce against him that fatal register, and would quash
12530
his last chance of life. Besides that all secret men are men soon
12531
terrified, here were surely cards enough of one black suit, to justify
12532
the holder in growing rather livid as he turned them over.
12533

12534
"You scarcely seem to like your hand," said Sydney, with the greatest
12535
composure. "Do you play?"
12536

12537
"I think, sir," said the spy, in the meanest manner, as he turned to Mr.
12538
Lorry, "I may appeal to a gentleman of your years and benevolence, to
12539
put it to this other gentleman, so much your junior, whether he can
12540
under any circumstances reconcile it to his station to play that Ace
12541
of which he has spoken. I admit that _I_ am a spy, and that it is
12542
considered a discreditable station--though it must be filled by
12543
somebody; but this gentleman is no spy, and why should he so demean
12544
himself as to make himself one?"
12545

12546
"I play my Ace, Mr. Barsad," said Carton, taking the answer on himself,
12547
and looking at his watch, "without any scruple, in a very few minutes."
12548

12549
"I should have hoped, gentlemen both," said the spy, always striving to
12550
hook Mr. Lorry into the discussion, "that your respect for my sister--"
12551

12552
"I could not better testify my respect for your sister than by finally
12553
relieving her of her brother," said Sydney Carton.
12554

12555
"You think not, sir?"
12556

12557
"I have thoroughly made up my mind about it."
12558

12559
The smooth manner of the spy, curiously in dissonance with his
12560
ostentatiously rough dress, and probably with his usual demeanour,
12561
received such a check from the inscrutability of Carton,--who was a
12562
mystery to wiser and honester men than he,--that it faltered here and
12563
failed him. While he was at a loss, Carton said, resuming his former air
12564
of contemplating cards:
12565

12566
"And indeed, now I think again, I have a strong impression that I
12567
have another good card here, not yet enumerated. That friend and
12568
fellow-Sheep, who spoke of himself as pasturing in the country prisons;
12569
who was he?"
12570

12571
"French. You don't know him," said the spy, quickly.
12572

12573
"French, eh?" repeated Carton, musing, and not appearing to notice him
12574
at all, though he echoed his word. "Well; he may be."
12575

12576
"Is, I assure you," said the spy; "though it's not important."
12577

12578
"Though it's not important," repeated Carton, in the same mechanical
12579
way--"though it's not important--No, it's not important. No. Yet I know
12580
the face."
12581

12582
"I think not. I am sure not. It can't be," said the spy.
12583

12584
"It-can't-be," muttered Sydney Carton, retrospectively, and idling his
12585
glass (which fortunately was a small one) again. "Can't-be. Spoke good
12586
French. Yet like a foreigner, I thought?"
12587

12588
"Provincial," said the spy.
12589

12590
"No. Foreign!" cried Carton, striking his open hand on the table, as a
12591
light broke clearly on his mind. "Cly! Disguised, but the same man. We
12592
had that man before us at the Old Bailey."
12593

12594
"Now, there you are hasty, sir," said Barsad, with a smile that gave his
12595
aquiline nose an extra inclination to one side; "there you really give
12596
me an advantage over you. Cly (who I will unreservedly admit, at this
12597
distance of time, was a partner of mine) has been dead several years. I
12598
attended him in his last illness. He was buried in London, at the church
12599
of Saint Pancras-in-the-Fields. His unpopularity with the blackguard
12600
multitude at the moment prevented my following his remains, but I helped
12601
to lay him in his coffin."
12602

12603
Here, Mr. Lorry became aware, from where he sat, of a most remarkable
12604
goblin shadow on the wall. Tracing it to its source, he discovered it
12605
to be caused by a sudden extraordinary rising and stiffening of all the
12606
risen and stiff hair on Mr. Cruncher's head.
12607

12608
"Let us be reasonable," said the spy, "and let us be fair. To show you
12609
how mistaken you are, and what an unfounded assumption yours is, I will
12610
lay before you a certificate of Cly's burial, which I happened to have
12611
carried in my pocket-book," with a hurried hand he produced and opened
12612
it, "ever since. There it is. Oh, look at it, look at it! You may take
12613
it in your hand; it's no forgery."
12614

12615
Here, Mr. Lorry perceived the reflection on the wall to elongate, and
12616
Mr. Cruncher rose and stepped forward. His hair could not have been more
12617
violently on end, if it had been that moment dressed by the Cow with the
12618
crumpled horn in the house that Jack built.
12619

12620
Unseen by the spy, Mr. Cruncher stood at his side, and touched him on
12621
the shoulder like a ghostly bailiff.
12622

12623
"That there Roger Cly, master," said Mr. Cruncher, with a taciturn and
12624
iron-bound visage. "So _you_ put him in his coffin?"
12625

12626
"I did."
12627

12628
"Who took him out of it?"
12629

12630
Barsad leaned back in his chair, and stammered, "What do you mean?"
12631

12632
"I mean," said Mr. Cruncher, "that he warn't never in it. No! Not he!
12633
I'll have my head took off, if he was ever in it."
12634

12635
The spy looked round at the two gentlemen; they both looked in
12636
unspeakable astonishment at Jerry.
12637

12638
"I tell you," said Jerry, "that you buried paving-stones and earth in
12639
that there coffin. Don't go and tell me that you buried Cly. It was a
12640
take in. Me and two more knows it."
12641

12642
"How do you know it?"
12643

12644
"What's that to you? Ecod!" growled Mr. Cruncher, "it's you I have got a
12645
old grudge again, is it, with your shameful impositions upon tradesmen!
12646
I'd catch hold of your throat and choke you for half a guinea."
12647

12648
Sydney Carton, who, with Mr. Lorry, had been lost in amazement at
12649
this turn of the business, here requested Mr. Cruncher to moderate and
12650
explain himself.
12651

12652
"At another time, sir," he returned, evasively, "the present time is
12653
ill-conwenient for explainin'. What I stand to, is, that he knows well
12654
wot that there Cly was never in that there coffin. Let him say he was,
12655
in so much as a word of one syllable, and I'll either catch hold of his
12656
throat and choke him for half a guinea;" Mr. Cruncher dwelt upon this as
12657
quite a liberal offer; "or I'll out and announce him."
12658

12659
"Humph! I see one thing," said Carton. "I hold another card, Mr. Barsad.
12660
Impossible, here in raging Paris, with Suspicion filling the air, for
12661
you to outlive denunciation, when you are in communication with another
12662
aristocratic spy of the same antecedents as yourself, who, moreover, has
12663
the mystery about him of having feigned death and come to life again!
12664
A plot in the prisons, of the foreigner against the Republic. A strong
12665
card--a certain Guillotine card! Do you play?"
12666

12667
"No!" returned the spy. "I throw up. I confess that we were so unpopular
12668
with the outrageous mob, that I only got away from England at the risk
12669
of being ducked to death, and that Cly was so ferreted up and down, that
12670
he never would have got away at all but for that sham. Though how this
12671
man knows it was a sham, is a wonder of wonders to me."
12672

12673
"Never you trouble your head about this man," retorted the contentious
12674
Mr. Cruncher; "you'll have trouble enough with giving your attention to
12675
that gentleman. And look here! Once more!"--Mr. Cruncher could not
12676
be restrained from making rather an ostentatious parade of his
12677
liberality--"I'd catch hold of your throat and choke you for half a
12678
guinea."
12679

12680
The Sheep of the prisons turned from him to Sydney Carton, and said,
12681
with more decision, "It has come to a point. I go on duty soon, and
12682
can't overstay my time. You told me you had a proposal; what is it?
12683
Now, it is of no use asking too much of me. Ask me to do anything in my
12684
office, putting my head in great extra danger, and I had better trust my
12685
life to the chances of a refusal than the chances of consent. In short,
12686
I should make that choice. You talk of desperation. We are all desperate
12687
here. Remember! I may denounce you if I think proper, and I can swear my
12688
way through stone walls, and so can others. Now, what do you want with
12689
me?"
12690

12691
"Not very much. You are a turnkey at the Conciergerie?"
12692

12693
"I tell you once for all, there is no such thing as an escape possible,"
12694
 said the spy, firmly.
12695

12696
"Why need you tell me what I have not asked? You are a turnkey at the
12697
Conciergerie?"
12698

12699
"I am sometimes."
12700

12701
"You can be when you choose?"
12702

12703
"I can pass in and out when I choose."
12704

12705
Sydney Carton filled another glass with brandy, poured it slowly out
12706
upon the hearth, and watched it as it dropped. It being all spent, he
12707
said, rising:
12708

12709
"So far, we have spoken before these two, because it was as well that
12710
the merits of the cards should not rest solely between you and me. Come
12711
into the dark room here, and let us have one final word alone."
12712

12713

12714

12715

12716
IX. The Game Made
12717

12718

12719
While Sydney Carton and the Sheep of the prisons were in the adjoining
12720
dark room, speaking so low that not a sound was heard, Mr. Lorry looked
12721
at Jerry in considerable doubt and mistrust. That honest tradesman's
12722
manner of receiving the look, did not inspire confidence; he changed the
12723
leg on which he rested, as often as if he had fifty of those limbs,
12724
and were trying them all; he examined his finger-nails with a very
12725
questionable closeness of attention; and whenever Mr. Lorry's eye caught
12726
his, he was taken with that peculiar kind of short cough requiring the
12727
hollow of a hand before it, which is seldom, if ever, known to be an
12728
infirmity attendant on perfect openness of character.
12729

12730
"Jerry," said Mr. Lorry. "Come here."
12731

12732
Mr. Cruncher came forward sideways, with one of his shoulders in advance
12733
of him.
12734

12735
"What have you been, besides a messenger?"
12736

12737
After some cogitation, accompanied with an intent look at his patron,
12738
Mr. Cruncher conceived the luminous idea of replying, "Agicultooral
12739
character."
12740

12741
"My mind misgives me much," said Mr. Lorry, angrily shaking a forefinger
12742
at him, "that you have used the respectable and great house of Tellson's
12743
as a blind, and that you have had an unlawful occupation of an infamous
12744
description. If you have, don't expect me to befriend you when you
12745
get back to England. If you have, don't expect me to keep your secret.
12746
Tellson's shall not be imposed upon."
12747

12748
"I hope, sir," pleaded the abashed Mr. Cruncher, "that a gentleman like
12749
yourself wot I've had the honour of odd jobbing till I'm grey at it,
12750
would think twice about harming of me, even if it wos so--I don't say it
12751
is, but even if it wos. And which it is to be took into account that if
12752
it wos, it wouldn't, even then, be all o' one side. There'd be two sides
12753
to it. There might be medical doctors at the present hour, a picking
12754
up their guineas where a honest tradesman don't pick up his
12755
fardens--fardens! no, nor yet his half fardens--half fardens! no, nor
12756
yet his quarter--a banking away like smoke at Tellson's, and a cocking
12757
their medical eyes at that tradesman on the sly, a going in and going
12758
out to their own carriages--ah! equally like smoke, if not more so.
12759
Well, that 'ud be imposing, too, on Tellson's. For you cannot sarse the
12760
goose and not the gander. And here's Mrs. Cruncher, or leastways wos
12761
in the Old England times, and would be to-morrow, if cause given,
12762
a floppin' again the business to that degree as is ruinating--stark
12763
ruinating! Whereas them medical doctors' wives don't flop--catch 'em at
12764
it! Or, if they flop, their floppings goes in favour of more patients,
12765
and how can you rightly have one without t'other? Then, wot with
12766
undertakers, and wot with parish clerks, and wot with sextons, and wot
12767
with private watchmen (all awaricious and all in it), a man wouldn't get
12768
much by it, even if it wos so. And wot little a man did get, would never
12769
prosper with him, Mr. Lorry. He'd never have no good of it; he'd want
12770
all along to be out of the line, if he, could see his way out, being
12771
once in--even if it wos so."
12772

12773
"Ugh!" cried Mr. Lorry, rather relenting, nevertheless, "I am shocked at
12774
the sight of you."
12775

12776
"Now, what I would humbly offer to you, sir," pursued Mr. Cruncher,
12777
"even if it wos so, which I don't say it is--"
12778

12779
"Don't prevaricate," said Mr. Lorry.
12780

12781
"No, I will _not_, sir," returned Mr. Crunches as if nothing were
12782
further from his thoughts or practice--"which I don't say it is--wot I
12783
would humbly offer to you, sir, would be this. Upon that there stool, at
12784
that there Bar, sets that there boy of mine, brought up and growed up to
12785
be a man, wot will errand you, message you, general-light-job you, till
12786
your heels is where your head is, if such should be your wishes. If it
12787
wos so, which I still don't say it is (for I will not prewaricate to
12788
you, sir), let that there boy keep his father's place, and take care of
12789
his mother; don't blow upon that boy's father--do not do it, sir--and
12790
let that father go into the line of the reg'lar diggin', and make amends
12791
for what he would have undug--if it wos so--by diggin' of 'em in with
12792
a will, and with conwictions respectin' the futur' keepin' of 'em safe.
12793
That, Mr. Lorry," said Mr. Cruncher, wiping his forehead with his
12794
arm, as an announcement that he had arrived at the peroration of his
12795
discourse, "is wot I would respectfully offer to you, sir. A man don't
12796
see all this here a goin' on dreadful round him, in the way of Subjects
12797
without heads, dear me, plentiful enough fur to bring the price down
12798
to porterage and hardly that, without havin' his serious thoughts of
12799
things. And these here would be mine, if it wos so, entreatin' of you
12800
fur to bear in mind that wot I said just now, I up and said in the good
12801
cause when I might have kep' it back."
12802

12803
"That at least is true," said Mr. Lorry. "Say no more now. It may be
12804
that I shall yet stand your friend, if you deserve it, and repent in
12805
action--not in words. I want no more words."
12806

12807
Mr. Cruncher knuckled his forehead, as Sydney Carton and the spy
12808
returned from the dark room. "Adieu, Mr. Barsad," said the former; "our
12809
arrangement thus made, you have nothing to fear from me."
12810

12811
He sat down in a chair on the hearth, over against Mr. Lorry. When they
12812
were alone, Mr. Lorry asked him what he had done?
12813

12814
"Not much. If it should go ill with the prisoner, I have ensured access
12815
to him, once."
12816

12817
Mr. Lorry's countenance fell.
12818

12819
"It is all I could do," said Carton. "To propose too much, would be
12820
to put this man's head under the axe, and, as he himself said, nothing
12821
worse could happen to him if he were denounced. It was obviously the
12822
weakness of the position. There is no help for it."
12823

12824
"But access to him," said Mr. Lorry, "if it should go ill before the
12825
Tribunal, will not save him."
12826

12827
"I never said it would."
12828

12829
Mr. Lorry's eyes gradually sought the fire; his sympathy with his
12830
darling, and the heavy disappointment of his second arrest, gradually
12831
weakened them; he was an old man now, overborne with anxiety of late,
12832
and his tears fell.
12833

12834
"You are a good man and a true friend," said Carton, in an altered
12835
voice. "Forgive me if I notice that you are affected. I could not see my
12836
father weep, and sit by, careless. And I could not respect your
12837
sorrow more, if you were my father. You are free from that misfortune,
12838
however."
12839

12840
Though he said the last words, with a slip into his usual manner, there
12841
was a true feeling and respect both in his tone and in his touch,
12842
that Mr. Lorry, who had never seen the better side of him, was wholly
12843
unprepared for. He gave him his hand, and Carton gently pressed it.
12844

12845
"To return to poor Darnay," said Carton. "Don't tell Her of this
12846
interview, or this arrangement. It would not enable Her to go to see
12847
him. She might think it was contrived, in case of the worse, to convey
12848
to him the means of anticipating the sentence."
12849

12850
Mr. Lorry had not thought of that, and he looked quickly at Carton to
12851
see if it were in his mind. It seemed to be; he returned the look, and
12852
evidently understood it.
12853

12854
"She might think a thousand things," Carton said, "and any of them would
12855
only add to her trouble. Don't speak of me to her. As I said to you when
12856
I first came, I had better not see her. I can put my hand out, to do any
12857
little helpful work for her that my hand can find to do, without that.
12858
You are going to her, I hope? She must be very desolate to-night."
12859

12860
"I am going now, directly."
12861

12862
"I am glad of that. She has such a strong attachment to you and reliance
12863
on you. How does she look?"
12864

12865
"Anxious and unhappy, but very beautiful."
12866

12867
"Ah!"
12868

12869
It was a long, grieving sound, like a sigh--almost like a sob. It
12870
attracted Mr. Lorry's eyes to Carton's face, which was turned to the
12871
fire. A light, or a shade (the old gentleman could not have said which),
12872
passed from it as swiftly as a change will sweep over a hill-side on a
12873
wild bright day, and he lifted his foot to put back one of the little
12874
flaming logs, which was tumbling forward. He wore the white riding-coat
12875
and top-boots, then in vogue, and the light of the fire touching their
12876
light surfaces made him look very pale, with his long brown hair,
12877
all untrimmed, hanging loose about him. His indifference to fire was
12878
sufficiently remarkable to elicit a word of remonstrance from Mr. Lorry;
12879
his boot was still upon the hot embers of the flaming log, when it had
12880
broken under the weight of his foot.
12881

12882
"I forgot it," he said.
12883

12884
Mr. Lorry's eyes were again attracted to his face. Taking note of the
12885
wasted air which clouded the naturally handsome features, and having
12886
the expression of prisoners' faces fresh in his mind, he was strongly
12887
reminded of that expression.
12888

12889
"And your duties here have drawn to an end, sir?" said Carton, turning
12890
to him.
12891

12892
"Yes. As I was telling you last night when Lucie came in so
12893
unexpectedly, I have at length done all that I can do here. I hoped to
12894
have left them in perfect safety, and then to have quitted Paris. I have
12895
my Leave to Pass. I was ready to go."
12896

12897
They were both silent.
12898

12899
"Yours is a long life to look back upon, sir?" said Carton, wistfully.
12900

12901
"I am in my seventy-eighth year."
12902

12903
"You have been useful all your life; steadily and constantly occupied;
12904
trusted, respected, and looked up to?"
12905

12906
"I have been a man of business, ever since I have been a man. Indeed, I
12907
may say that I was a man of business when a boy."
12908

12909
"See what a place you fill at seventy-eight. How many people will miss
12910
you when you leave it empty!"
12911

12912
"A solitary old bachelor," answered Mr. Lorry, shaking his head. "There
12913
is nobody to weep for me."
12914

12915
"How can you say that? Wouldn't She weep for you? Wouldn't her child?"
12916

12917
"Yes, yes, thank God. I didn't quite mean what I said."
12918

12919
"It _is_ a thing to thank God for; is it not?"
12920

12921
"Surely, surely."
12922

12923
"If you could say, with truth, to your own solitary heart, to-night,
12924
'I have secured to myself the love and attachment, the gratitude or
12925
respect, of no human creature; I have won myself a tender place in no
12926
regard; I have done nothing good or serviceable to be remembered by!'
12927
your seventy-eight years would be seventy-eight heavy curses; would they
12928
not?"
12929

12930
"You say truly, Mr. Carton; I think they would be."
12931

12932
Sydney turned his eyes again upon the fire, and, after a silence of a
12933
few moments, said:
12934

12935
"I should like to ask you:--Does your childhood seem far off? Do the
12936
days when you sat at your mother's knee, seem days of very long ago?"
12937

12938
Responding to his softened manner, Mr. Lorry answered:
12939

12940
"Twenty years back, yes; at this time of my life, no. For, as I draw
12941
closer and closer to the end, I travel in the circle, nearer and
12942
nearer to the beginning. It seems to be one of the kind smoothings and
12943
preparings of the way. My heart is touched now, by many remembrances
12944
that had long fallen asleep, of my pretty young mother (and I so old!),
12945
and by many associations of the days when what we call the World was not
12946
so real with me, and my faults were not confirmed in me."
12947

12948
"I understand the feeling!" exclaimed Carton, with a bright flush. "And
12949
you are the better for it?"
12950

12951
"I hope so."
12952

12953
Carton terminated the conversation here, by rising to help him on with
12954
his outer coat; "But you," said Mr. Lorry, reverting to the theme, "you
12955
are young."
12956

12957
"Yes," said Carton. "I am not old, but my young way was never the way to
12958
age. Enough of me."
12959

12960
"And of me, I am sure," said Mr. Lorry. "Are you going out?"
12961

12962
"I'll walk with you to her gate. You know my vagabond and restless
12963
habits. If I should prowl about the streets a long time, don't be
12964
uneasy; I shall reappear in the morning. You go to the Court to-morrow?"
12965

12966
"Yes, unhappily."
12967

12968
"I shall be there, but only as one of the crowd. My Spy will find a
12969
place for me. Take my arm, sir."
12970

12971
Mr. Lorry did so, and they went down-stairs and out in the streets. A
12972
few minutes brought them to Mr. Lorry's destination. Carton left him
12973
there; but lingered at a little distance, and turned back to the gate
12974
again when it was shut, and touched it. He had heard of her going to
12975
the prison every day. "She came out here," he said, looking about him,
12976
"turned this way, must have trod on these stones often. Let me follow in
12977
her steps."
12978

12979
It was ten o'clock at night when he stood before the prison of La Force,
12980
where she had stood hundreds of times. A little wood-sawyer, having
12981
closed his shop, was smoking his pipe at his shop-door.
12982

12983
"Good night, citizen," said Sydney Carton, pausing in going by; for, the
12984
man eyed him inquisitively.
12985

12986
"Good night, citizen."
12987

12988
"How goes the Republic?"
12989

12990
"You mean the Guillotine. Not ill. Sixty-three to-day. We shall mount
12991
to a hundred soon. Samson and his men complain sometimes, of being
12992
exhausted. Ha, ha, ha! He is so droll, that Samson. Such a Barber!"
12993

12994
"Do you often go to see him--"
12995

12996
"Shave? Always. Every day. What a barber! You have seen him at work?"
12997

12998
"Never."
12999

13000
"Go and see him when he has a good batch. Figure this to yourself,
13001
citizen; he shaved the sixty-three to-day, in less than two pipes! Less
13002
than two pipes. Word of honour!"
13003

13004
As the grinning little man held out the pipe he was smoking, to explain
13005
how he timed the executioner, Carton was so sensible of a rising desire
13006
to strike the life out of him, that he turned away.
13007

13008
"But you are not English," said the wood-sawyer, "though you wear
13009
English dress?"
13010

13011
"Yes," said Carton, pausing again, and answering over his shoulder.
13012

13013
"You speak like a Frenchman."
13014

13015
"I am an old student here."
13016

13017
"Aha, a perfect Frenchman! Good night, Englishman."
13018

13019
"Good night, citizen."
13020

13021
"But go and see that droll dog," the little man persisted, calling after
13022
him. "And take a pipe with you!"
13023

13024
Sydney had not gone far out of sight, when he stopped in the middle of
13025
the street under a glimmering lamp, and wrote with his pencil on a scrap
13026
of paper. Then, traversing with the decided step of one who remembered
13027
the way well, several dark and dirty streets--much dirtier than usual,
13028
for the best public thoroughfares remained uncleansed in those times of
13029
terror--he stopped at a chemist's shop, which the owner was closing with
13030
his own hands. A small, dim, crooked shop, kept in a tortuous, up-hill
13031
thoroughfare, by a small, dim, crooked man.
13032

13033
Giving this citizen, too, good night, as he confronted him at his
13034
counter, he laid the scrap of paper before him. "Whew!" the chemist
13035
whistled softly, as he read it. "Hi! hi! hi!"
13036

13037
Sydney Carton took no heed, and the chemist said:
13038

13039
"For you, citizen?"
13040

13041
"For me."
13042

13043
"You will be careful to keep them separate, citizen? You know the
13044
consequences of mixing them?"
13045

13046
"Perfectly."
13047

13048
Certain small packets were made and given to him. He put them, one by
13049
one, in the breast of his inner coat, counted out the money for them,
13050
and deliberately left the shop. "There is nothing more to do," said he,
13051
glancing upward at the moon, "until to-morrow. I can't sleep."
13052

13053
It was not a reckless manner, the manner in which he said these words
13054
aloud under the fast-sailing clouds, nor was it more expressive of
13055
negligence than defiance. It was the settled manner of a tired man, who
13056
had wandered and struggled and got lost, but who at length struck into
13057
his road and saw its end.
13058

13059
Long ago, when he had been famous among his earliest competitors as a
13060
youth of great promise, he had followed his father to the grave. His
13061
mother had died, years before. These solemn words, which had been
13062
read at his father's grave, arose in his mind as he went down the dark
13063
streets, among the heavy shadows, with the moon and the clouds sailing
13064
on high above him. "I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord:
13065
he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and
13066
whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die."
13067

13068
In a city dominated by the axe, alone at night, with natural sorrow
13069
rising in him for the sixty-three who had been that day put to death,
13070
and for to-morrow's victims then awaiting their doom in the prisons,
13071
and still of to-morrow's and to-morrow's, the chain of association that
13072
brought the words home, like a rusty old ship's anchor from the deep,
13073
might have been easily found. He did not seek it, but repeated them and
13074
went on.
13075

13076
With a solemn interest in the lighted windows where the people were
13077
going to rest, forgetful through a few calm hours of the horrors
13078
surrounding them; in the towers of the churches, where no prayers
13079
were said, for the popular revulsion had even travelled that length
13080
of self-destruction from years of priestly impostors, plunderers, and
13081
profligates; in the distant burial-places, reserved, as they wrote upon
13082
the gates, for Eternal Sleep; in the abounding gaols; and in the streets
13083
along which the sixties rolled to a death which had become so common and
13084
material, that no sorrowful story of a haunting Spirit ever arose among
13085
the people out of all the working of the Guillotine; with a solemn
13086
interest in the whole life and death of the city settling down to its
13087
short nightly pause in fury; Sydney Carton crossed the Seine again for
13088
the lighter streets.
13089

13090
Few coaches were abroad, for riders in coaches were liable to be
13091
suspected, and gentility hid its head in red nightcaps, and put on heavy
13092
shoes, and trudged. But, the theatres were all well filled, and the
13093
people poured cheerfully out as he passed, and went chatting home. At
13094
one of the theatre doors, there was a little girl with a mother, looking
13095
for a way across the street through the mud. He carried the child over,
13096
and before the timid arm was loosed from his neck asked her for a kiss.
13097

13098
"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth
13099
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and
13100
believeth in me, shall never die."
13101

13102
Now, that the streets were quiet, and the night wore on, the words
13103
were in the echoes of his feet, and were in the air. Perfectly calm
13104
and steady, he sometimes repeated them to himself as he walked; but, he
13105
heard them always.
13106

13107
The night wore out, and, as he stood upon the bridge listening to the
13108
water as it splashed the river-walls of the Island of Paris, where the
13109
picturesque confusion of houses and cathedral shone bright in the light
13110
of the moon, the day came coldly, looking like a dead face out of the
13111
sky. Then, the night, with the moon and the stars, turned pale and died,
13112
and for a little while it seemed as if Creation were delivered over to
13113
Death's dominion.
13114

13115
But, the glorious sun, rising, seemed to strike those words, that burden
13116
of the night, straight and warm to his heart in its long bright rays.
13117
And looking along them, with reverently shaded eyes, a bridge of light
13118
appeared to span the air between him and the sun, while the river
13119
sparkled under it.
13120

13121
The strong tide, so swift, so deep, and certain, was like a congenial
13122
friend, in the morning stillness. He walked by the stream, far from the
13123
houses, and in the light and warmth of the sun fell asleep on the
13124
bank. When he awoke and was afoot again, he lingered there yet a little
13125
longer, watching an eddy that turned and turned purposeless, until the
13126
stream absorbed it, and carried it on to the sea.--"Like me."
13127

13128
A trading-boat, with a sail of the softened colour of a dead leaf, then
13129
glided into his view, floated by him, and died away. As its silent track
13130
in the water disappeared, the prayer that had broken up out of his heart
13131
for a merciful consideration of all his poor blindnesses and errors,
13132
ended in the words, "I am the resurrection and the life."
13133

13134
Mr. Lorry was already out when he got back, and it was easy to surmise
13135
where the good old man was gone. Sydney Carton drank nothing but a
13136
little coffee, ate some bread, and, having washed and changed to refresh
13137
himself, went out to the place of trial.
13138

13139
The court was all astir and a-buzz, when the black sheep--whom many fell
13140
away from in dread--pressed him into an obscure corner among the crowd.
13141
Mr. Lorry was there, and Doctor Manette was there. She was there,
13142
sitting beside her father.
13143

13144
When her husband was brought in, she turned a look upon him, so
13145
sustaining, so encouraging, so full of admiring love and pitying
13146
tenderness, yet so courageous for his sake, that it called the healthy
13147
blood into his face, brightened his glance, and animated his heart. If
13148
there had been any eyes to notice the influence of her look, on Sydney
13149
Carton, it would have been seen to be the same influence exactly.
13150

13151
Before that unjust Tribunal, there was little or no order of procedure,
13152
ensuring to any accused person any reasonable hearing. There could have
13153
been no such Revolution, if all laws, forms, and ceremonies, had not
13154
first been so monstrously abused, that the suicidal vengeance of the
13155
Revolution was to scatter them all to the winds.
13156

13157
Every eye was turned to the jury. The same determined patriots and good
13158
republicans as yesterday and the day before, and to-morrow and the day
13159
after. Eager and prominent among them, one man with a craving face, and
13160
his fingers perpetually hovering about his lips, whose appearance
13161
gave great satisfaction to the spectators. A life-thirsting,
13162
cannibal-looking, bloody-minded juryman, the Jacques Three of St.
13163
Antoine. The whole jury, as a jury of dogs empannelled to try the deer.
13164

13165
Every eye then turned to the five judges and the public prosecutor.
13166
No favourable leaning in that quarter to-day. A fell, uncompromising,
13167
murderous business-meaning there. Every eye then sought some other eye
13168
in the crowd, and gleamed at it approvingly; and heads nodded at one
13169
another, before bending forward with a strained attention.
13170

13171
Charles Evremonde, called Darnay. Released yesterday. Reaccused and
13172
retaken yesterday. Indictment delivered to him last night. Suspected and
13173
Denounced enemy of the Republic, Aristocrat, one of a family of tyrants,
13174
one of a race proscribed, for that they had used their abolished
13175
privileges to the infamous oppression of the people. Charles Evremonde,
13176
called Darnay, in right of such proscription, absolutely Dead in Law.
13177

13178
To this effect, in as few or fewer words, the Public Prosecutor.
13179

13180
The President asked, was the Accused openly denounced or secretly?
13181

13182
"Openly, President."
13183

13184
"By whom?"
13185

13186
"Three voices. Ernest Defarge, wine-vendor of St. Antoine."
13187

13188
"Good."
13189

13190
"Therese Defarge, his wife."
13191

13192
"Good."
13193

13194
"Alexandre Manette, physician."
13195

13196
A great uproar took place in the court, and in the midst of it, Doctor
13197
Manette was seen, pale and trembling, standing where he had been seated.
13198

13199
"President, I indignantly protest to you that this is a forgery and
13200
a fraud. You know the accused to be the husband of my daughter. My
13201
daughter, and those dear to her, are far dearer to me than my life. Who
13202
and where is the false conspirator who says that I denounce the husband
13203
of my child!"
13204

13205
"Citizen Manette, be tranquil. To fail in submission to the authority of
13206
the Tribunal would be to put yourself out of Law. As to what is dearer
13207
to you than life, nothing can be so dear to a good citizen as the
13208
Republic."
13209

13210
Loud acclamations hailed this rebuke. The President rang his bell, and
13211
with warmth resumed.
13212

13213
"If the Republic should demand of you the sacrifice of your child
13214
herself, you would have no duty but to sacrifice her. Listen to what is
13215
to follow. In the meanwhile, be silent!"
13216

13217
Frantic acclamations were again raised. Doctor Manette sat down, with
13218
his eyes looking around, and his lips trembling; his daughter drew
13219
closer to him. The craving man on the jury rubbed his hands together,
13220
and restored the usual hand to his mouth.
13221

13222
Defarge was produced, when the court was quiet enough to admit of his
13223
being heard, and rapidly expounded the story of the imprisonment, and of
13224
his having been a mere boy in the Doctor's service, and of the release,
13225
and of the state of the prisoner when released and delivered to him.
13226
This short examination followed, for the court was quick with its work.
13227

13228
"You did good service at the taking of the Bastille, citizen?"
13229

13230
"I believe so."
13231

13232
Here, an excited woman screeched from the crowd: "You were one of the
13233
best patriots there. Why not say so? You were a cannonier that day
13234
there, and you were among the first to enter the accursed fortress when
13235
it fell. Patriots, I speak the truth!"
13236

13237
It was The Vengeance who, amidst the warm commendations of the audience,
13238
thus assisted the proceedings. The President rang his bell; but, The
13239
Vengeance, warming with encouragement, shrieked, "I defy that bell!"
13240
 wherein she was likewise much commended.
13241

13242
"Inform the Tribunal of what you did that day within the Bastille,
13243
citizen."
13244

13245
"I knew," said Defarge, looking down at his wife, who stood at the
13246
bottom of the steps on which he was raised, looking steadily up at him;
13247
"I knew that this prisoner, of whom I speak, had been confined in a cell
13248
known as One Hundred and Five, North Tower. I knew it from himself. He
13249
knew himself by no other name than One Hundred and Five, North Tower,
13250
when he made shoes under my care. As I serve my gun that day, I resolve,
13251
when the place shall fall, to examine that cell. It falls. I mount to
13252
the cell, with a fellow-citizen who is one of the Jury, directed by a
13253
gaoler. I examine it, very closely. In a hole in the chimney, where a
13254
stone has been worked out and replaced, I find a written paper. This is
13255
that written paper. I have made it my business to examine some specimens
13256
of the writing of Doctor Manette. This is the writing of Doctor Manette.
13257
I confide this paper, in the writing of Doctor Manette, to the hands of
13258
the President."
13259

13260
"Let it be read."
13261

13262
In a dead silence and stillness--the prisoner under trial looking
13263
lovingly at his wife, his wife only looking from him to look with
13264
solicitude at her father, Doctor Manette keeping his eyes fixed on the
13265
reader, Madame Defarge never taking hers from the prisoner, Defarge
13266
never taking his from his feasting wife, and all the other eyes there
13267
intent upon the Doctor, who saw none of them--the paper was read, as
13268
follows.
13269

13270

13271

13272

13273
X. The Substance of the Shadow
13274

13275

13276
"I, Alexandre Manette, unfortunate physician, native of Beauvais, and
13277
afterwards resident in Paris, write this melancholy paper in my doleful
13278
cell in the Bastille, during the last month of the year, 1767. I write
13279
it at stolen intervals, under every difficulty. I design to secrete it
13280
in the wall of the chimney, where I have slowly and laboriously made a
13281
place of concealment for it. Some pitying hand may find it there, when I
13282
and my sorrows are dust.
13283

13284
"These words are formed by the rusty iron point with which I write with
13285
difficulty in scrapings of soot and charcoal from the chimney, mixed
13286
with blood, in the last month of the tenth year of my captivity. Hope
13287
has quite departed from my breast. I know from terrible warnings I have
13288
noted in myself that my reason will not long remain unimpaired, but I
13289
solemnly declare that I am at this time in the possession of my right
13290
mind--that my memory is exact and circumstantial--and that I write the
13291
truth as I shall answer for these my last recorded words, whether they
13292
be ever read by men or not, at the Eternal Judgment-seat.
13293

13294
"One cloudy moonlight night, in the third week of December (I think the
13295
twenty-second of the month) in the year 1757, I was walking on a retired
13296
part of the quay by the Seine for the refreshment of the frosty air,
13297
at an hour's distance from my place of residence in the Street of the
13298
School of Medicine, when a carriage came along behind me, driven very
13299
fast. As I stood aside to let that carriage pass, apprehensive that it
13300
might otherwise run me down, a head was put out at the window, and a
13301
voice called to the driver to stop.
13302

13303
"The carriage stopped as soon as the driver could rein in his horses,
13304
and the same voice called to me by my name. I answered. The carriage
13305
was then so far in advance of me that two gentlemen had time to open the
13306
door and alight before I came up with it.
13307

13308
"I observed that they were both wrapped in cloaks, and appeared to
13309
conceal themselves. As they stood side by side near the carriage door,
13310
I also observed that they both looked of about my own age, or rather
13311
younger, and that they were greatly alike, in stature, manner, voice,
13312
and (as far as I could see) face too.
13313

13314
"'You are Doctor Manette?' said one.
13315

13316
"I am."
13317

13318
"'Doctor Manette, formerly of Beauvais,' said the other; 'the young
13319
physician, originally an expert surgeon, who within the last year or two
13320
has made a rising reputation in Paris?'
13321

13322
"'Gentlemen,' I returned, 'I am that Doctor Manette of whom you speak so
13323
graciously.'
13324

13325
"'We have been to your residence,' said the first, 'and not being
13326
so fortunate as to find you there, and being informed that you were
13327
probably walking in this direction, we followed, in the hope of
13328
overtaking you. Will you please to enter the carriage?'
13329

13330
"The manner of both was imperious, and they both moved, as these words
13331
were spoken, so as to place me between themselves and the carriage door.
13332
They were armed. I was not.
13333

13334
"'Gentlemen,' said I, 'pardon me; but I usually inquire who does me
13335
the honour to seek my assistance, and what is the nature of the case to
13336
which I am summoned.'
13337

13338
"The reply to this was made by him who had spoken second. 'Doctor,
13339
your clients are people of condition. As to the nature of the case,
13340
our confidence in your skill assures us that you will ascertain it for
13341
yourself better than we can describe it. Enough. Will you please to
13342
enter the carriage?'
13343

13344
"I could do nothing but comply, and I entered it in silence. They both
13345
entered after me--the last springing in, after putting up the steps. The
13346
carriage turned about, and drove on at its former speed.
13347

13348
"I repeat this conversation exactly as it occurred. I have no doubt that
13349
it is, word for word, the same. I describe everything exactly as it took
13350
place, constraining my mind not to wander from the task. Where I make
13351
the broken marks that follow here, I leave off for the time, and put my
13352
paper in its hiding-place.
13353

13354
        *****
13355

13356
"The carriage left the streets behind, passed the North Barrier, and
13357
emerged upon the country road. At two-thirds of a league from the
13358
Barrier--I did not estimate the distance at that time, but afterwards
13359
when I traversed it--it struck out of the main avenue, and presently
13360
stopped at a solitary house, We all three alighted, and walked, by
13361
a damp soft footpath in a garden where a neglected fountain had
13362
overflowed, to the door of the house. It was not opened immediately, in
13363
answer to the ringing of the bell, and one of my two conductors struck
13364
the man who opened it, with his heavy riding glove, across the face.
13365

13366
"There was nothing in this action to attract my particular attention,
13367
for I had seen common people struck more commonly than dogs. But, the
13368
other of the two, being angry likewise, struck the man in like manner
13369
with his arm; the look and bearing of the brothers were then so exactly
13370
alike, that I then first perceived them to be twin brothers.
13371

13372
"From the time of our alighting at the outer gate (which we found
13373
locked, and which one of the brothers had opened to admit us, and had
13374
relocked), I had heard cries proceeding from an upper chamber. I was
13375
conducted to this chamber straight, the cries growing louder as we
13376
ascended the stairs, and I found a patient in a high fever of the brain,
13377
lying on a bed.
13378

13379
"The patient was a woman of great beauty, and young; assuredly not much
13380
past twenty. Her hair was torn and ragged, and her arms were bound to
13381
her sides with sashes and handkerchiefs. I noticed that these bonds were
13382
all portions of a gentleman's dress. On one of them, which was a fringed
13383
scarf for a dress of ceremony, I saw the armorial bearings of a Noble,
13384
and the letter E.
13385

13386
"I saw this, within the first minute of my contemplation of the patient;
13387
for, in her restless strivings she had turned over on her face on the
13388
edge of the bed, had drawn the end of the scarf into her mouth, and was
13389
in danger of suffocation. My first act was to put out my hand to relieve
13390
her breathing; and in moving the scarf aside, the embroidery in the
13391
corner caught my sight.
13392

13393
"I turned her gently over, placed my hands upon her breast to calm her
13394
and keep her down, and looked into her face. Her eyes were dilated and
13395
wild, and she constantly uttered piercing shrieks, and repeated the
13396
words, 'My husband, my father, and my brother!' and then counted up to
13397
twelve, and said, 'Hush!' For an instant, and no more, she would pause
13398
to listen, and then the piercing shrieks would begin again, and she
13399
would repeat the cry, 'My husband, my father, and my brother!' and
13400
would count up to twelve, and say, 'Hush!' There was no variation in the
13401
order, or the manner. There was no cessation, but the regular moment's
13402
pause, in the utterance of these sounds.
13403

13404
"'How long,' I asked, 'has this lasted?'
13405

13406
"To distinguish the brothers, I will call them the elder and the
13407
younger; by the elder, I mean him who exercised the most authority. It
13408
was the elder who replied, 'Since about this hour last night.'
13409

13410
"'She has a husband, a father, and a brother?'
13411

13412
"'A brother.'
13413

13414
"'I do not address her brother?'
13415

13416
"He answered with great contempt, 'No.'
13417

13418
"'She has some recent association with the number twelve?'
13419

13420
"The younger brother impatiently rejoined, 'With twelve o'clock?'
13421

13422
"'See, gentlemen,' said I, still keeping my hands upon her breast, 'how
13423
useless I am, as you have brought me! If I had known what I was coming
13424
to see, I could have come provided. As it is, time must be lost. There
13425
are no medicines to be obtained in this lonely place.'
13426

13427
"The elder brother looked to the younger, who said haughtily, 'There is
13428
a case of medicines here;' and brought it from a closet, and put it on
13429
the table.
13430

13431
        *****
13432

13433
"I opened some of the bottles, smelt them, and put the stoppers to my
13434
lips. If I had wanted to use anything save narcotic medicines that were
13435
poisons in themselves, I would not have administered any of those.
13436

13437
"'Do you doubt them?' asked the younger brother.
13438

13439
"'You see, monsieur, I am going to use them,' I replied, and said no
13440
more.
13441

13442
"I made the patient swallow, with great difficulty, and after many
13443
efforts, the dose that I desired to give. As I intended to repeat it
13444
after a while, and as it was necessary to watch its influence, I then
13445
sat down by the side of the bed. There was a timid and suppressed woman
13446
in attendance (wife of the man down-stairs), who had retreated into
13447
a corner. The house was damp and decayed, indifferently
13448
furnished--evidently, recently occupied and temporarily used. Some thick
13449
old hangings had been nailed up before the windows, to deaden the
13450
sound of the shrieks. They continued to be uttered in their regular
13451
succession, with the cry, 'My husband, my father, and my brother!' the
13452
counting up to twelve, and 'Hush!' The frenzy was so violent, that I had
13453
not unfastened the bandages restraining the arms; but, I had looked to
13454
them, to see that they were not painful. The only spark of encouragement
13455
in the case, was, that my hand upon the sufferer's breast had this much
13456
soothing influence, that for minutes at a time it tranquillised the
13457
figure. It had no effect upon the cries; no pendulum could be more
13458
regular.
13459

13460
"For the reason that my hand had this effect (I assume), I had sat by
13461
the side of the bed for half an hour, with the two brothers looking on,
13462
before the elder said:
13463

13464
"'There is another patient.'
13465

13466
"I was startled, and asked, 'Is it a pressing case?'
13467

13468
"'You had better see,' he carelessly answered; and took up a light.
13469

13470
        *****
13471

13472
"The other patient lay in a back room across a second staircase, which
13473
was a species of loft over a stable. There was a low plastered ceiling
13474
to a part of it; the rest was open, to the ridge of the tiled roof, and
13475
there were beams across. Hay and straw were stored in that portion of
13476
the place, fagots for firing, and a heap of apples in sand. I had to
13477
pass through that part, to get at the other. My memory is circumstantial
13478
and unshaken. I try it with these details, and I see them all, in
13479
this my cell in the Bastille, near the close of the tenth year of my
13480
captivity, as I saw them all that night.
13481

13482
"On some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown under his head, lay a
13483
handsome peasant boy--a boy of not more than seventeen at the most.
13484
He lay on his back, with his teeth set, his right hand clenched on his
13485
breast, and his glaring eyes looking straight upward. I could not see
13486
where his wound was, as I kneeled on one knee over him; but, I could see
13487
that he was dying of a wound from a sharp point.
13488

13489
"'I am a doctor, my poor fellow,' said I. 'Let me examine it.'
13490

13491
"'I do not want it examined,' he answered; 'let it be.'
13492

13493
"It was under his hand, and I soothed him to let me move his hand away.
13494
The wound was a sword-thrust, received from twenty to twenty-four hours
13495
before, but no skill could have saved him if it had been looked to
13496
without delay. He was then dying fast. As I turned my eyes to the elder
13497
brother, I saw him looking down at this handsome boy whose life was
13498
ebbing out, as if he were a wounded bird, or hare, or rabbit; not at all
13499
as if he were a fellow-creature.
13500

13501
"'How has this been done, monsieur?' said I.
13502

13503
"'A crazed young common dog! A serf! Forced my brother to draw upon him,
13504
and has fallen by my brother's sword--like a gentleman.'
13505

13506
"There was no touch of pity, sorrow, or kindred humanity, in this
13507
answer. The speaker seemed to acknowledge that it was inconvenient to
13508
have that different order of creature dying there, and that it would
13509
have been better if he had died in the usual obscure routine of his
13510
vermin kind. He was quite incapable of any compassionate feeling about
13511
the boy, or about his fate.
13512

13513
"The boy's eyes had slowly moved to him as he had spoken, and they now
13514
slowly moved to me.
13515

13516
"'Doctor, they are very proud, these Nobles; but we common dogs are
13517
proud too, sometimes. They plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us; but
13518
we have a little pride left, sometimes. She--have you seen her, Doctor?'
13519

13520
"The shrieks and the cries were audible there, though subdued by the
13521
distance. He referred to them, as if she were lying in our presence.
13522

13523
"I said, 'I have seen her.'
13524

13525
"'She is my sister, Doctor. They have had their shameful rights, these
13526
Nobles, in the modesty and virtue of our sisters, many years, but we
13527
have had good girls among us. I know it, and have heard my father say
13528
so. She was a good girl. She was betrothed to a good young man, too: a
13529
tenant of his. We were all tenants of his--that man's who stands there.
13530
The other is his brother, the worst of a bad race.'
13531

13532
"It was with the greatest difficulty that the boy gathered bodily force
13533
to speak; but, his spirit spoke with a dreadful emphasis.
13534

13535
"'We were so robbed by that man who stands there, as all we common dogs
13536
are by those superior Beings--taxed by him without mercy, obliged to
13537
work for him without pay, obliged to grind our corn at his mill, obliged
13538
to feed scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and forbidden
13539
for our lives to keep a single tame bird of our own, pillaged and
13540
plundered to that degree that when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we
13541
ate it in fear, with the door barred and the shutters closed, that his
13542
people should not see it and take it from us--I say, we were so robbed,
13543
and hunted, and were made so poor, that our father told us it was a
13544
dreadful thing to bring a child into the world, and that what we should
13545
most pray for, was, that our women might be barren and our miserable
13546
race die out!'
13547

13548
"I had never before seen the sense of being oppressed, bursting forth
13549
like a fire. I had supposed that it must be latent in the people
13550
somewhere; but, I had never seen it break out, until I saw it in the
13551
dying boy.
13552

13553
"'Nevertheless, Doctor, my sister married. He was ailing at that time,
13554
poor fellow, and she married her lover, that she might tend and comfort
13555
him in our cottage--our dog-hut, as that man would call it. She had not
13556
been married many weeks, when that man's brother saw her and admired
13557
her, and asked that man to lend her to him--for what are husbands among
13558
us! He was willing enough, but my sister was good and virtuous, and
13559
hated his brother with a hatred as strong as mine. What did the two
13560
then, to persuade her husband to use his influence with her, to make her
13561
willing?'
13562

13563
"The boy's eyes, which had been fixed on mine, slowly turned to the
13564
looker-on, and I saw in the two faces that all he said was true. The two
13565
opposing kinds of pride confronting one another, I can see, even in this
13566
Bastille; the gentleman's, all negligent indifference; the peasant's, all
13567
trodden-down sentiment, and passionate revenge.
13568

13569
"'You know, Doctor, that it is among the Rights of these Nobles to
13570
harness us common dogs to carts, and drive us. They so harnessed him and
13571
drove him. You know that it is among their Rights to keep us in their
13572
grounds all night, quieting the frogs, in order that their noble sleep
13573
may not be disturbed. They kept him out in the unwholesome mists at
13574
night, and ordered him back into his harness in the day. But he was
13575
not persuaded. No! Taken out of harness one day at noon, to feed--if he
13576
could find food--he sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the
13577
bell, and died on her bosom.'
13578

13579
"Nothing human could have held life in the boy but his determination to
13580
tell all his wrong. He forced back the gathering shadows of death, as
13581
he forced his clenched right hand to remain clenched, and to cover his
13582
wound.
13583

13584
"'Then, with that man's permission and even with his aid, his
13585
brother took her away; in spite of what I know she must have told his
13586
brother--and what that is, will not be long unknown to you, Doctor, if
13587
it is now--his brother took her away--for his pleasure and diversion,
13588
for a little while. I saw her pass me on the road. When I took the
13589
tidings home, our father's heart burst; he never spoke one of the words
13590
that filled it. I took my young sister (for I have another) to a place
13591
beyond the reach of this man, and where, at least, she will never be
13592
_his_ vassal. Then, I tracked the brother here, and last night climbed
13593
in--a common dog, but sword in hand.--Where is the loft window? It was
13594
somewhere here?'
13595

13596
"The room was darkening to his sight; the world was narrowing around
13597
him. I glanced about me, and saw that the hay and straw were trampled
13598
over the floor, as if there had been a struggle.
13599

13600
"'She heard me, and ran in. I told her not to come near us till he was
13601
dead. He came in and first tossed me some pieces of money; then struck
13602
at me with a whip. But I, though a common dog, so struck at him as to
13603
make him draw. Let him break into as many pieces as he will, the sword
13604
that he stained with my common blood; he drew to defend himself--thrust
13605
at me with all his skill for his life.'
13606

13607
"My glance had fallen, but a few moments before, on the fragments of
13608
a broken sword, lying among the hay. That weapon was a gentleman's. In
13609
another place, lay an old sword that seemed to have been a soldier's.
13610

13611
"'Now, lift me up, Doctor; lift me up. Where is he?'
13612

13613
"'He is not here,' I said, supporting the boy, and thinking that he
13614
referred to the brother.
13615

13616
"'He! Proud as these nobles are, he is afraid to see me. Where is the
13617
man who was here? Turn my face to him.'
13618

13619
"I did so, raising the boy's head against my knee. But, invested for the
13620
moment with extraordinary power, he raised himself completely: obliging
13621
me to rise too, or I could not have still supported him.
13622

13623
"'Marquis,' said the boy, turned to him with his eyes opened wide, and
13624
his right hand raised, 'in the days when all these things are to be
13625
answered for, I summon you and yours, to the last of your bad race, to
13626
answer for them. I mark this cross of blood upon you, as a sign that
13627
I do it. In the days when all these things are to be answered for,
13628
I summon your brother, the worst of the bad race, to answer for them
13629
separately. I mark this cross of blood upon him, as a sign that I do
13630
it.'
13631

13632
"Twice, he put his hand to the wound in his breast, and with his
13633
forefinger drew a cross in the air. He stood for an instant with the
13634
finger yet raised, and as it dropped, he dropped with it, and I laid him
13635
down dead.
13636

13637
        *****
13638

13639
"When I returned to the bedside of the young woman, I found her raving
13640
in precisely the same order of continuity. I knew that this might last
13641
for many hours, and that it would probably end in the silence of the
13642
grave.
13643

13644
"I repeated the medicines I had given her, and I sat at the side of
13645
the bed until the night was far advanced. She never abated the piercing
13646
quality of her shrieks, never stumbled in the distinctness or the order
13647
of her words. They were always 'My husband, my father, and my brother!
13648
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven,
13649
twelve. Hush!'
13650

13651
"This lasted twenty-six hours from the time when I first saw her. I had
13652
come and gone twice, and was again sitting by her, when she began to
13653
falter. I did what little could be done to assist that opportunity, and
13654
by-and-bye she sank into a lethargy, and lay like the dead.
13655

13656
"It was as if the wind and rain had lulled at last, after a long and
13657
fearful storm. I released her arms, and called the woman to assist me to
13658
compose her figure and the dress she had torn. It was then that I knew
13659
her condition to be that of one in whom the first expectations of being
13660
a mother have arisen; and it was then that I lost the little hope I had
13661
had of her.
13662

13663
"'Is she dead?' asked the Marquis, whom I will still describe as the
13664
elder brother, coming booted into the room from his horse.
13665

13666
"'Not dead,' said I; 'but like to die.'
13667

13668
"'What strength there is in these common bodies!' he said, looking down
13669
at her with some curiosity.
13670

13671
"'There is prodigious strength,' I answered him, 'in sorrow and
13672
despair.'
13673

13674
"He first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them. He moved a
13675
chair with his foot near to mine, ordered the woman away, and said in a
13676
subdued voice,
13677

13678
"'Doctor, finding my brother in this difficulty with these hinds, I
13679
recommended that your aid should be invited. Your reputation is high,
13680
and, as a young man with your fortune to make, you are probably mindful
13681
of your interest. The things that you see here, are things to be seen,
13682
and not spoken of.'
13683

13684
"I listened to the patient's breathing, and avoided answering.
13685

13686
"'Do you honour me with your attention, Doctor?'
13687

13688
"'Monsieur,' said I, 'in my profession, the communications of patients
13689
are always received in confidence.' I was guarded in my answer, for I
13690
was troubled in my mind with what I had heard and seen.
13691

13692
"Her breathing was so difficult to trace, that I carefully tried the
13693
pulse and the heart. There was life, and no more. Looking round as I
13694
resumed my seat, I found both the brothers intent upon me.
13695

13696
        *****
13697

13698
"I write with so much difficulty, the cold is so severe, I am so
13699
fearful of being detected and consigned to an underground cell and total
13700
darkness, that I must abridge this narrative. There is no confusion or
13701
failure in my memory; it can recall, and could detail, every word that
13702
was ever spoken between me and those brothers.
13703

13704
"She lingered for a week. Towards the last, I could understand some few
13705
syllables that she said to me, by placing my ear close to her lips. She
13706
asked me where she was, and I told her; who I was, and I told her. It
13707
was in vain that I asked her for her family name. She faintly shook her
13708
head upon the pillow, and kept her secret, as the boy had done.
13709

13710
"I had no opportunity of asking her any question, until I had told the
13711
brothers she was sinking fast, and could not live another day. Until
13712
then, though no one was ever presented to her consciousness save the
13713
woman and myself, one or other of them had always jealously sat behind
13714
the curtain at the head of the bed when I was there. But when it came to
13715
that, they seemed careless what communication I might hold with her; as
13716
if--the thought passed through my mind--I were dying too.
13717

13718
"I always observed that their pride bitterly resented the younger
13719
brother's (as I call him) having crossed swords with a peasant, and that
13720
peasant a boy. The only consideration that appeared to affect the mind
13721
of either of them was the consideration that this was highly degrading
13722
to the family, and was ridiculous. As often as I caught the younger
13723
brother's eyes, their expression reminded me that he disliked me deeply,
13724
for knowing what I knew from the boy. He was smoother and more polite to
13725
me than the elder; but I saw this. I also saw that I was an incumbrance
13726
in the mind of the elder, too.
13727

13728
"My patient died, two hours before midnight--at a time, by my watch,
13729
answering almost to the minute when I had first seen her. I was alone
13730
with her, when her forlorn young head drooped gently on one side, and
13731
all her earthly wrongs and sorrows ended.
13732

13733
"The brothers were waiting in a room down-stairs, impatient to ride
13734
away. I had heard them, alone at the bedside, striking their boots with
13735
their riding-whips, and loitering up and down.
13736

13737
"'At last she is dead?' said the elder, when I went in.
13738

13739
"'She is dead,' said I.
13740

13741
"'I congratulate you, my brother,' were his words as he turned round.
13742

13743
"He had before offered me money, which I had postponed taking. He now
13744
gave me a rouleau of gold. I took it from his hand, but laid it on
13745
the table. I had considered the question, and had resolved to accept
13746
nothing.
13747

13748
"'Pray excuse me,' said I. 'Under the circumstances, no.'
13749

13750
"They exchanged looks, but bent their heads to me as I bent mine to
13751
them, and we parted without another word on either side.
13752

13753
        *****
13754

13755
"I am weary, weary, weary--worn down by misery. I cannot read what I
13756
have written with this gaunt hand.
13757

13758
"Early in the morning, the rouleau of gold was left at my door in a
13759
little box, with my name on the outside. From the first, I had anxiously
13760
considered what I ought to do. I decided, that day, to write privately
13761
to the Minister, stating the nature of the two cases to which I had been
13762
summoned, and the place to which I had gone: in effect, stating all the
13763
circumstances. I knew what Court influence was, and what the immunities
13764
of the Nobles were, and I expected that the matter would never be
13765
heard of; but, I wished to relieve my own mind. I had kept the matter a
13766
profound secret, even from my wife; and this, too, I resolved to state
13767
in my letter. I had no apprehension whatever of my real danger; but
13768
I was conscious that there might be danger for others, if others were
13769
compromised by possessing the knowledge that I possessed.
13770

13771
"I was much engaged that day, and could not complete my letter that
13772
night. I rose long before my usual time next morning to finish it.
13773
It was the last day of the year. The letter was lying before me just
13774
completed, when I was told that a lady waited, who wished to see me.
13775

13776
        *****
13777

13778
"I am growing more and more unequal to the task I have set myself. It is
13779
so cold, so dark, my senses are so benumbed, and the gloom upon me is so
13780
dreadful.
13781

13782
"The lady was young, engaging, and handsome, but not marked for long
13783
life. She was in great agitation. She presented herself to me as the
13784
wife of the Marquis St. Evremonde. I connected the title by which the
13785
boy had addressed the elder brother, with the initial letter embroidered
13786
on the scarf, and had no difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that I
13787
had seen that nobleman very lately.
13788

13789
"My memory is still accurate, but I cannot write the words of our
13790
conversation. I suspect that I am watched more closely than I was, and I
13791
know not at what times I may be watched. She had in part suspected, and
13792
in part discovered, the main facts of the cruel story, of her husband's
13793
share in it, and my being resorted to. She did not know that the girl
13794
was dead. Her hope had been, she said in great distress, to show her,
13795
in secret, a woman's sympathy. Her hope had been to avert the wrath of
13796
Heaven from a House that had long been hateful to the suffering many.
13797

13798
"She had reasons for believing that there was a young sister living, and
13799
her greatest desire was, to help that sister. I could tell her nothing
13800
but that there was such a sister; beyond that, I knew nothing. Her
13801
inducement to come to me, relying on my confidence, had been the hope
13802
that I could tell her the name and place of abode. Whereas, to this
13803
wretched hour I am ignorant of both.
13804

13805
        *****
13806

13807
"These scraps of paper fail me. One was taken from me, with a warning,
13808
yesterday. I must finish my record to-day.
13809

13810
"She was a good, compassionate lady, and not happy in her marriage. How
13811
could she be! The brother distrusted and disliked her, and his influence
13812
was all opposed to her; she stood in dread of him, and in dread of her
13813
husband too. When I handed her down to the door, there was a child, a
13814
pretty boy from two to three years old, in her carriage.
13815

13816
"'For his sake, Doctor,' she said, pointing to him in tears, 'I would do
13817
all I can to make what poor amends I can. He will never prosper in his
13818
inheritance otherwise. I have a presentiment that if no other innocent
13819
atonement is made for this, it will one day be required of him. What
13820
I have left to call my own--it is little beyond the worth of a few
13821
jewels--I will make it the first charge of his life to bestow, with the
13822
compassion and lamenting of his dead mother, on this injured family, if
13823
the sister can be discovered.'
13824

13825
"She kissed the boy, and said, caressing him, 'It is for thine own dear
13826
sake. Thou wilt be faithful, little Charles?' The child answered her
13827
bravely, 'Yes!' I kissed her hand, and she took him in her arms, and
13828
went away caressing him. I never saw her more.
13829

13830
"As she had mentioned her husband's name in the faith that I knew it,
13831
I added no mention of it to my letter. I sealed my letter, and, not
13832
trusting it out of my own hands, delivered it myself that day.
13833

13834
"That night, the last night of the year, towards nine o'clock, a man in
13835
a black dress rang at my gate, demanded to see me, and softly followed
13836
my servant, Ernest Defarge, a youth, up-stairs. When my servant came
13837
into the room where I sat with my wife--O my wife, beloved of my heart!
13838
My fair young English wife!--we saw the man, who was supposed to be at
13839
the gate, standing silent behind him.
13840

13841
"An urgent case in the Rue St. Honore, he said. It would not detain me,
13842
he had a coach in waiting.
13843

13844
"It brought me here, it brought me to my grave. When I was clear of the
13845
house, a black muffler was drawn tightly over my mouth from behind, and
13846
my arms were pinioned. The two brothers crossed the road from a dark
13847
corner, and identified me with a single gesture. The Marquis took from
13848
his pocket the letter I had written, showed it me, burnt it in the light
13849
of a lantern that was held, and extinguished the ashes with his foot.
13850
Not a word was spoken. I was brought here, I was brought to my living
13851
grave.
13852

13853
"If it had pleased _God_ to put it in the hard heart of either of the
13854
brothers, in all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of
13855
my dearest wife--so much as to let me know by a word whether alive or
13856
dead--I might have thought that He had not quite abandoned them. But,
13857
now I believe that the mark of the red cross is fatal to them, and that
13858
they have no part in His mercies. And them and their descendants, to the
13859
last of their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy prisoner, do this last
13860
night of the year 1767, in my unbearable agony, denounce to the times
13861
when all these things shall be answered for. I denounce them to Heaven
13862
and to earth."
13863

13864
A terrible sound arose when the reading of this document was done. A
13865
sound of craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate in it but
13866
blood. The narrative called up the most revengeful passions of the time,
13867
and there was not a head in the nation but must have dropped before it.
13868

13869
Little need, in presence of that tribunal and that auditory, to show
13870
how the Defarges had not made the paper public, with the other captured
13871
Bastille memorials borne in procession, and had kept it, biding their
13872
time. Little need to show that this detested family name had long been
13873
anathematised by Saint Antoine, and was wrought into the fatal register.
13874
The man never trod ground whose virtues and services would have
13875
sustained him in that place that day, against such denunciation.
13876

13877
And all the worse for the doomed man, that the denouncer was a
13878
well-known citizen, his own attached friend, the father of his wife. One
13879
of the frenzied aspirations of the populace was, for imitations of
13880
the questionable public virtues of antiquity, and for sacrifices and
13881
self-immolations on the people's altar. Therefore when the President
13882
said (else had his own head quivered on his shoulders), that the good
13883
physician of the Republic would deserve better still of the Republic by
13884
rooting out an obnoxious family of Aristocrats, and would doubtless feel
13885
a sacred glow and joy in making his daughter a widow and her child an
13886
orphan, there was wild excitement, patriotic fervour, not a touch of
13887
human sympathy.
13888

13889
"Much influence around him, has that Doctor?" murmured Madame Defarge,
13890
smiling to The Vengeance. "Save him now, my Doctor, save him!"
13891

13892
At every juryman's vote, there was a roar. Another and another. Roar and
13893
roar.
13894

13895
Unanimously voted. At heart and by descent an Aristocrat, an enemy
13896
of the Republic, a notorious oppressor of the People. Back to the
13897
Conciergerie, and Death within four-and-twenty hours!
13898

13899

13900

13901

13902
XI. Dusk
13903

13904

13905
The wretched wife of the innocent man thus doomed to die, fell under
13906
the sentence, as if she had been mortally stricken. But, she uttered no
13907
sound; and so strong was the voice within her, representing that it was
13908
she of all the world who must uphold him in his misery and not augment
13909
it, that it quickly raised her, even from that shock.
13910

13911
The Judges having to take part in a public demonstration out of doors,
13912
the Tribunal adjourned. The quick noise and movement of the court's
13913
emptying itself by many passages had not ceased, when Lucie stood
13914
stretching out her arms towards her husband, with nothing in her face
13915
but love and consolation.
13916

13917
"If I might touch him! If I might embrace him once! O, good citizens, if
13918
you would have so much compassion for us!"
13919

13920
There was but a gaoler left, along with two of the four men who had
13921
taken him last night, and Barsad. The people had all poured out to the
13922
show in the streets. Barsad proposed to the rest, "Let her embrace
13923
him then; it is but a moment." It was silently acquiesced in, and they
13924
passed her over the seats in the hall to a raised place, where he, by
13925
leaning over the dock, could fold her in his arms.
13926

13927
"Farewell, dear darling of my soul. My parting blessing on my love. We
13928
shall meet again, where the weary are at rest!"
13929

13930
They were her husband's words, as he held her to his bosom.
13931

13932
"I can bear it, dear Charles. I am supported from above: don't suffer
13933
for me. A parting blessing for our child."
13934

13935
"I send it to her by you. I kiss her by you. I say farewell to her by
13936
you."
13937

13938
"My husband. No! A moment!" He was tearing himself apart from her.
13939
"We shall not be separated long. I feel that this will break my heart
13940
by-and-bye; but I will do my duty while I can, and when I leave her, God
13941
will raise up friends for her, as He did for me."
13942

13943
Her father had followed her, and would have fallen on his knees to both
13944
of them, but that Darnay put out a hand and seized him, crying:
13945

13946
"No, no! What have you done, what have you done, that you should kneel
13947
to us! We know now, what a struggle you made of old. We know, now what
13948
you underwent when you suspected my descent, and when you knew it. We
13949
know now, the natural antipathy you strove against, and conquered, for
13950
her dear sake. We thank you with all our hearts, and all our love and
13951
duty. Heaven be with you!"
13952

13953
Her father's only answer was to draw his hands through his white hair,
13954
and wring them with a shriek of anguish.
13955

13956
"It could not be otherwise," said the prisoner. "All things have worked
13957
together as they have fallen out. It was the always-vain endeavour to
13958
discharge my poor mother's trust that first brought my fatal presence
13959
near you. Good could never come of such evil, a happier end was not in
13960
nature to so unhappy a beginning. Be comforted, and forgive me. Heaven
13961
bless you!"
13962

13963
As he was drawn away, his wife released him, and stood looking after him
13964
with her hands touching one another in the attitude of prayer, and
13965
with a radiant look upon her face, in which there was even a comforting
13966
smile. As he went out at the prisoners' door, she turned, laid her head
13967
lovingly on her father's breast, tried to speak to him, and fell at his
13968
feet.
13969

13970
Then, issuing from the obscure corner from which he had never moved,
13971
Sydney Carton came and took her up. Only her father and Mr. Lorry were
13972
with her. His arm trembled as it raised her, and supported her head.
13973
Yet, there was an air about him that was not all of pity--that had a
13974
flush of pride in it.
13975

13976
"Shall I take her to a coach? I shall never feel her weight."
13977

13978
He carried her lightly to the door, and laid her tenderly down in a
13979
coach. Her father and their old friend got into it, and he took his seat
13980
beside the driver.
13981

13982
When they arrived at the gateway where he had paused in the dark not
13983
many hours before, to picture to himself on which of the rough stones of
13984
the street her feet had trodden, he lifted her again, and carried her up
13985
the staircase to their rooms. There, he laid her down on a couch, where
13986
her child and Miss Pross wept over her.
13987

13988
"Don't recall her to herself," he said, softly, to the latter, "she is
13989
better so. Don't revive her to consciousness, while she only faints."
13990

13991
"Oh, Carton, Carton, dear Carton!" cried little Lucie, springing up and
13992
throwing her arms passionately round him, in a burst of grief. "Now that
13993
you have come, I think you will do something to help mamma, something to
13994
save papa! O, look at her, dear Carton! Can you, of all the people who
13995
love her, bear to see her so?"
13996

13997
He bent over the child, and laid her blooming cheek against his face. He
13998
put her gently from him, and looked at her unconscious mother.
13999

14000
"Before I go," he said, and paused--"I may kiss her?"
14001

14002
It was remembered afterwards that when he bent down and touched her face
14003
with his lips, he murmured some words. The child, who was nearest to
14004
him, told them afterwards, and told her grandchildren when she was a
14005
handsome old lady, that she heard him say, "A life you love."
14006

14007
When he had gone out into the next room, he turned suddenly on Mr. Lorry
14008
and her father, who were following, and said to the latter:
14009

14010
"You had great influence but yesterday, Doctor Manette; let it at least
14011
be tried. These judges, and all the men in power, are very friendly to
14012
you, and very recognisant of your services; are they not?"
14013

14014
"Nothing connected with Charles was concealed from me. I had the
14015
strongest assurances that I should save him; and I did." He returned the
14016
answer in great trouble, and very slowly.
14017

14018
"Try them again. The hours between this and to-morrow afternoon are few
14019
and short, but try."
14020

14021
"I intend to try. I will not rest a moment."
14022

14023
"That's well. I have known such energy as yours do great things before
14024
now--though never," he added, with a smile and a sigh together, "such
14025
great things as this. But try! Of little worth as life is when we misuse
14026
it, it is worth that effort. It would cost nothing to lay down if it
14027
were not."
14028

14029
"I will go," said Doctor Manette, "to the Prosecutor and the President
14030
straight, and I will go to others whom it is better not to name. I will
14031
write too, and--But stay! There is a Celebration in the streets, and no
14032
one will be accessible until dark."
14033

14034
"That's true. Well! It is a forlorn hope at the best, and not much the
14035
forlorner for being delayed till dark. I should like to know how you
14036
speed; though, mind! I expect nothing! When are you likely to have seen
14037
these dread powers, Doctor Manette?"
14038

14039
"Immediately after dark, I should hope. Within an hour or two from
14040
this."
14041

14042
"It will be dark soon after four. Let us stretch the hour or two. If I
14043
go to Mr. Lorry's at nine, shall I hear what you have done, either from
14044
our friend or from yourself?"
14045

14046
"Yes."
14047

14048
"May you prosper!"
14049

14050
Mr. Lorry followed Sydney to the outer door, and, touching him on the
14051
shoulder as he was going away, caused him to turn.
14052

14053
"I have no hope," said Mr. Lorry, in a low and sorrowful whisper.
14054

14055
"Nor have I."
14056

14057
"If any one of these men, or all of these men, were disposed to spare
14058
him--which is a large supposition; for what is his life, or any man's
14059
to them!--I doubt if they durst spare him after the demonstration in the
14060
court."
14061

14062
"And so do I. I heard the fall of the axe in that sound."
14063

14064
Mr. Lorry leaned his arm upon the door-post, and bowed his face upon it.
14065

14066
"Don't despond," said Carton, very gently; "don't grieve. I encouraged
14067
Doctor Manette in this idea, because I felt that it might one day be
14068
consolatory to her. Otherwise, she might think 'his life was wantonly
14069
thrown away or wasted,' and that might trouble her."
14070

14071
"Yes, yes, yes," returned Mr. Lorry, drying his eyes, "you are right.
14072
But he will perish; there is no real hope."
14073

14074
"Yes. He will perish: there is no real hope," echoed Carton.
14075

14076
And walked with a settled step, down-stairs.
14077

14078

14079

14080

14081
XII. Darkness
14082

14083

14084
Sydney Carton paused in the street, not quite decided where to go. "At
14085
Tellson's banking-house at nine," he said, with a musing face. "Shall I
14086
do well, in the mean time, to show myself? I think so. It is best that
14087
these people should know there is such a man as I here; it is a sound
14088
precaution, and may be a necessary preparation. But care, care, care!
14089
Let me think it out!"
14090

14091
Checking his steps which had begun to tend towards an object, he took a
14092
turn or two in the already darkening street, and traced the thought
14093
in his mind to its possible consequences. His first impression was
14094
confirmed. "It is best," he said, finally resolved, "that these people
14095
should know there is such a man as I here." And he turned his face
14096
towards Saint Antoine.
14097

14098
Defarge had described himself, that day, as the keeper of a wine-shop in
14099
the Saint Antoine suburb. It was not difficult for one who knew the city
14100
well, to find his house without asking any question. Having ascertained
14101
its situation, Carton came out of those closer streets again, and dined
14102
at a place of refreshment and fell sound asleep after dinner. For the
14103
first time in many years, he had no strong drink. Since last night he
14104
had taken nothing but a little light thin wine, and last night he had
14105
dropped the brandy slowly down on Mr. Lorry's hearth like a man who had
14106
done with it.
14107

14108
It was as late as seven o'clock when he awoke refreshed, and went out
14109
into the streets again. As he passed along towards Saint Antoine, he
14110
stopped at a shop-window where there was a mirror, and slightly altered
14111
the disordered arrangement of his loose cravat, and his coat-collar, and
14112
his wild hair. This done, he went on direct to Defarge's, and went in.
14113

14114
There happened to be no customer in the shop but Jacques Three, of the
14115
restless fingers and the croaking voice. This man, whom he had seen upon
14116
the Jury, stood drinking at the little counter, in conversation with the
14117
Defarges, man and wife. The Vengeance assisted in the conversation, like
14118
a regular member of the establishment.
14119

14120
As Carton walked in, took his seat and asked (in very indifferent
14121
French) for a small measure of wine, Madame Defarge cast a careless
14122
glance at him, and then a keener, and then a keener, and then advanced
14123
to him herself, and asked him what it was he had ordered.
14124

14125
He repeated what he had already said.
14126

14127
"English?" asked Madame Defarge, inquisitively raising her dark
14128
eyebrows.
14129

14130
After looking at her, as if the sound of even a single French word were
14131
slow to express itself to him, he answered, in his former strong foreign
14132
accent. "Yes, madame, yes. I am English!"
14133

14134
Madame Defarge returned to her counter to get the wine, and, as he
14135
took up a Jacobin journal and feigned to pore over it puzzling out its
14136
meaning, he heard her say, "I swear to you, like Evremonde!"
14137

14138
Defarge brought him the wine, and gave him Good Evening.
14139

14140
"How?"
14141

14142
"Good evening."
14143

14144
"Oh! Good evening, citizen," filling his glass. "Ah! and good wine. I
14145
drink to the Republic."
14146

14147
Defarge went back to the counter, and said, "Certainly, a little like."
14148
 Madame sternly retorted, "I tell you a good deal like." Jacques Three
14149
pacifically remarked, "He is so much in your mind, see you, madame."
14150
 The amiable Vengeance added, with a laugh, "Yes, my faith! And you
14151
are looking forward with so much pleasure to seeing him once more
14152
to-morrow!"
14153

14154
Carton followed the lines and words of his paper, with a slow
14155
forefinger, and with a studious and absorbed face. They were all leaning
14156
their arms on the counter close together, speaking low. After a silence
14157
of a few moments, during which they all looked towards him without
14158
disturbing his outward attention from the Jacobin editor, they resumed
14159
their conversation.
14160

14161
"It is true what madame says," observed Jacques Three. "Why stop? There
14162
is great force in that. Why stop?"
14163

14164
"Well, well," reasoned Defarge, "but one must stop somewhere. After all,
14165
the question is still where?"
14166

14167
"At extermination," said madame.
14168

14169
"Magnificent!" croaked Jacques Three. The Vengeance, also, highly
14170
approved.
14171

14172
"Extermination is good doctrine, my wife," said Defarge, rather
14173
troubled; "in general, I say nothing against it. But this Doctor has
14174
suffered much; you have seen him to-day; you have observed his face when
14175
the paper was read."
14176

14177
"I have observed his face!" repeated madame, contemptuously and angrily.
14178
"Yes. I have observed his face. I have observed his face to be not the
14179
face of a true friend of the Republic. Let him take care of his face!"
14180

14181
"And you have observed, my wife," said Defarge, in a deprecatory manner,
14182
"the anguish of his daughter, which must be a dreadful anguish to him!"
14183

14184
"I have observed his daughter," repeated madame; "yes, I have observed
14185
his daughter, more times than one. I have observed her to-day, and I
14186
have observed her other days. I have observed her in the court, and
14187
I have observed her in the street by the prison. Let me but lift my
14188
finger--!" She seemed to raise it (the listener's eyes were always on
14189
his paper), and to let it fall with a rattle on the ledge before her, as
14190
if the axe had dropped.
14191

14192
"The citizeness is superb!" croaked the Juryman.
14193

14194
"She is an Angel!" said The Vengeance, and embraced her.
14195

14196
"As to thee," pursued madame, implacably, addressing her husband, "if it
14197
depended on thee--which, happily, it does not--thou wouldst rescue this
14198
man even now."
14199

14200
"No!" protested Defarge. "Not if to lift this glass would do it! But I
14201
would leave the matter there. I say, stop there."
14202

14203
"See you then, Jacques," said Madame Defarge, wrathfully; "and see you,
14204
too, my little Vengeance; see you both! Listen! For other crimes as
14205
tyrants and oppressors, I have this race a long time on my register,
14206
doomed to destruction and extermination. Ask my husband, is that so."
14207

14208
"It is so," assented Defarge, without being asked.
14209

14210
"In the beginning of the great days, when the Bastille falls, he finds
14211
this paper of to-day, and he brings it home, and in the middle of the
14212
night when this place is clear and shut, we read it, here on this spot,
14213
by the light of this lamp. Ask him, is that so."
14214

14215
"It is so," assented Defarge.
14216

14217
"That night, I tell him, when the paper is read through, and the lamp is
14218
burnt out, and the day is gleaming in above those shutters and between
14219
those iron bars, that I have now a secret to communicate. Ask him, is
14220
that so."
14221

14222
"It is so," assented Defarge again.
14223

14224
"I communicate to him that secret. I smite this bosom with these two
14225
hands as I smite it now, and I tell him, 'Defarge, I was brought up
14226
among the fishermen of the sea-shore, and that peasant family so injured
14227
by the two Evremonde brothers, as that Bastille paper describes, is my
14228
family. Defarge, that sister of the mortally wounded boy upon the ground
14229
was my sister, that husband was my sister's husband, that unborn child
14230
was their child, that brother was my brother, that father was my father,
14231
those dead are my dead, and that summons to answer for those things
14232
descends to me!' Ask him, is that so."
14233

14234
"It is so," assented Defarge once more.
14235

14236
"Then tell Wind and Fire where to stop," returned madame; "but don't
14237
tell me."
14238

14239
Both her hearers derived a horrible enjoyment from the deadly nature
14240
of her wrath--the listener could feel how white she was, without seeing
14241
her--and both highly commended it. Defarge, a weak minority, interposed
14242
a few words for the memory of the compassionate wife of the Marquis; but
14243
only elicited from his own wife a repetition of her last reply. "Tell
14244
the Wind and the Fire where to stop; not me!"
14245

14246
Customers entered, and the group was broken up. The English customer
14247
paid for what he had had, perplexedly counted his change, and asked, as
14248
a stranger, to be directed towards the National Palace. Madame Defarge
14249
took him to the door, and put her arm on his, in pointing out the road.
14250
The English customer was not without his reflections then, that it might
14251
be a good deed to seize that arm, lift it, and strike under it sharp and
14252
deep.
14253

14254
But, he went his way, and was soon swallowed up in the shadow of the
14255
prison wall. At the appointed hour, he emerged from it to present
14256
himself in Mr. Lorry's room again, where he found the old gentleman
14257
walking to and fro in restless anxiety. He said he had been with Lucie
14258
until just now, and had only left her for a few minutes, to come and
14259
keep his appointment. Her father had not been seen, since he quitted the
14260
banking-house towards four o'clock. She had some faint hopes that his
14261
mediation might save Charles, but they were very slight. He had been
14262
more than five hours gone: where could he be?
14263

14264
Mr. Lorry waited until ten; but, Doctor Manette not returning, and
14265
he being unwilling to leave Lucie any longer, it was arranged that he
14266
should go back to her, and come to the banking-house again at midnight.
14267
In the meanwhile, Carton would wait alone by the fire for the Doctor.
14268

14269
He waited and waited, and the clock struck twelve; but Doctor Manette
14270
did not come back. Mr. Lorry returned, and found no tidings of him, and
14271
brought none. Where could he be?
14272

14273
They were discussing this question, and were almost building up some
14274
weak structure of hope on his prolonged absence, when they heard him on
14275
the stairs. The instant he entered the room, it was plain that all was
14276
lost.
14277

14278
Whether he had really been to any one, or whether he had been all that
14279
time traversing the streets, was never known. As he stood staring at
14280
them, they asked him no question, for his face told them everything.
14281

14282
"I cannot find it," said he, "and I must have it. Where is it?"
14283

14284
His head and throat were bare, and, as he spoke with a helpless look
14285
straying all around, he took his coat off, and let it drop on the floor.
14286

14287
"Where is my bench? I have been looking everywhere for my bench, and I
14288
can't find it. What have they done with my work? Time presses: I must
14289
finish those shoes."
14290

14291
They looked at one another, and their hearts died within them.
14292

14293
"Come, come!" said he, in a whimpering miserable way; "let me get to
14294
work. Give me my work."
14295

14296
Receiving no answer, he tore his hair, and beat his feet upon the
14297
ground, like a distracted child.
14298

14299
"Don't torture a poor forlorn wretch," he implored them, with a dreadful
14300
cry; "but give me my work! What is to become of us, if those shoes are
14301
not done to-night?"
14302

14303
Lost, utterly lost!
14304

14305
It was so clearly beyond hope to reason with him, or try to restore him,
14306
that--as if by agreement--they each put a hand upon his shoulder, and
14307
soothed him to sit down before the fire, with a promise that he should
14308
have his work presently. He sank into the chair, and brooded over the
14309
embers, and shed tears. As if all that had happened since the garret
14310
time were a momentary fancy, or a dream, Mr. Lorry saw him shrink into
14311
the exact figure that Defarge had had in keeping.
14312

14313
Affected, and impressed with terror as they both were, by this spectacle
14314
of ruin, it was not a time to yield to such emotions. His lonely
14315
daughter, bereft of her final hope and reliance, appealed to them both
14316
too strongly. Again, as if by agreement, they looked at one another with
14317
one meaning in their faces. Carton was the first to speak:
14318

14319
"The last chance is gone: it was not much. Yes; he had better be taken
14320
to her. But, before you go, will you, for a moment, steadily attend to
14321
me? Don't ask me why I make the stipulations I am going to make, and
14322
exact the promise I am going to exact; I have a reason--a good one."
14323

14324
"I do not doubt it," answered Mr. Lorry. "Say on."
14325

14326
The figure in the chair between them, was all the time monotonously
14327
rocking itself to and fro, and moaning. They spoke in such a tone as
14328
they would have used if they had been watching by a sick-bed in the
14329
night.
14330

14331
Carton stooped to pick up the coat, which lay almost entangling his
14332
feet. As he did so, a small case in which the Doctor was accustomed to
14333
carry the lists of his day's duties, fell lightly on the floor. Carton
14334
took it up, and there was a folded paper in it. "We should look
14335
at this!" he said. Mr. Lorry nodded his consent. He opened it, and
14336
exclaimed, "Thank _God!_"
14337

14338
"What is it?" asked Mr. Lorry, eagerly.
14339

14340
"A moment! Let me speak of it in its place. First," he put his hand in
14341
his coat, and took another paper from it, "that is the certificate which
14342
enables me to pass out of this city. Look at it. You see--Sydney Carton,
14343
an Englishman?"
14344

14345
Mr. Lorry held it open in his hand, gazing in his earnest face.
14346

14347
"Keep it for me until to-morrow. I shall see him to-morrow, you
14348
remember, and I had better not take it into the prison."
14349

14350
"Why not?"
14351

14352
"I don't know; I prefer not to do so. Now, take this paper that Doctor
14353
Manette has carried about him. It is a similar certificate, enabling him
14354
and his daughter and her child, at any time, to pass the barrier and the
14355
frontier! You see?"
14356

14357
"Yes!"
14358

14359
"Perhaps he obtained it as his last and utmost precaution against evil,
14360
yesterday. When is it dated? But no matter; don't stay to look; put it
14361
up carefully with mine and your own. Now, observe! I never doubted until
14362
within this hour or two, that he had, or could have such a paper. It is
14363
good, until recalled. But it may be soon recalled, and, I have reason to
14364
think, will be."
14365

14366
"They are not in danger?"
14367

14368
"They are in great danger. They are in danger of denunciation by Madame
14369
Defarge. I know it from her own lips. I have overheard words of that
14370
woman's, to-night, which have presented their danger to me in strong
14371
colours. I have lost no time, and since then, I have seen the spy. He
14372
confirms me. He knows that a wood-sawyer, living by the prison wall,
14373
is under the control of the Defarges, and has been rehearsed by
14374
Madame Defarge as to his having seen Her"--he never mentioned Lucie's
14375
name--"making signs and signals to prisoners. It is easy to foresee that
14376
the pretence will be the common one, a prison plot, and that it will
14377
involve her life--and perhaps her child's--and perhaps her father's--for
14378
both have been seen with her at that place. Don't look so horrified. You
14379
will save them all."
14380

14381
"Heaven grant I may, Carton! But how?"
14382

14383
"I am going to tell you how. It will depend on you, and it could depend
14384
on no better man. This new denunciation will certainly not take place
14385
until after to-morrow; probably not until two or three days afterwards;
14386
more probably a week afterwards. You know it is a capital crime, to
14387
mourn for, or sympathise with, a victim of the Guillotine. She and her
14388
father would unquestionably be guilty of this crime, and this woman (the
14389
inveteracy of whose pursuit cannot be described) would wait to add that
14390
strength to her case, and make herself doubly sure. You follow me?"
14391

14392
"So attentively, and with so much confidence in what you say, that for
14393
the moment I lose sight," touching the back of the Doctor's chair, "even
14394
of this distress."
14395

14396
"You have money, and can buy the means of travelling to the seacoast
14397
as quickly as the journey can be made. Your preparations have been
14398
completed for some days, to return to England. Early to-morrow have your
14399
horses ready, so that they may be in starting trim at two o'clock in the
14400
afternoon."
14401

14402
"It shall be done!"
14403

14404
His manner was so fervent and inspiring, that Mr. Lorry caught the
14405
flame, and was as quick as youth.
14406

14407
"You are a noble heart. Did I say we could depend upon no better man?
14408
Tell her, to-night, what you know of her danger as involving her child
14409
and her father. Dwell upon that, for she would lay her own fair head
14410
beside her husband's cheerfully." He faltered for an instant; then went
14411
on as before. "For the sake of her child and her father, press upon her
14412
the necessity of leaving Paris, with them and you, at that hour. Tell
14413
her that it was her husband's last arrangement. Tell her that more
14414
depends upon it than she dare believe, or hope. You think that her
14415
father, even in this sad state, will submit himself to her; do you not?"
14416

14417
"I am sure of it."
14418

14419
"I thought so. Quietly and steadily have all these arrangements made in
14420
the courtyard here, even to the taking of your own seat in the carriage.
14421
The moment I come to you, take me in, and drive away."
14422

14423
"I understand that I wait for you under all circumstances?"
14424

14425
"You have my certificate in your hand with the rest, you know, and will
14426
reserve my place. Wait for nothing but to have my place occupied, and
14427
then for England!"
14428

14429
"Why, then," said Mr. Lorry, grasping his eager but so firm and steady
14430
hand, "it does not all depend on one old man, but I shall have a young
14431
and ardent man at my side."
14432

14433
"By the help of Heaven you shall! Promise me solemnly that nothing will
14434
influence you to alter the course on which we now stand pledged to one
14435
another."
14436

14437
"Nothing, Carton."
14438

14439
"Remember these words to-morrow: change the course, or delay in it--for
14440
any reason--and no life can possibly be saved, and many lives must
14441
inevitably be sacrificed."
14442

14443
"I will remember them. I hope to do my part faithfully."
14444

14445
"And I hope to do mine. Now, good bye!"
14446

14447
Though he said it with a grave smile of earnestness, and though he even
14448
put the old man's hand to his lips, he did not part from him then. He
14449
helped him so far to arouse the rocking figure before the dying embers,
14450
as to get a cloak and hat put upon it, and to tempt it forth to find
14451
where the bench and work were hidden that it still moaningly besought
14452
to have. He walked on the other side of it and protected it to the
14453
courtyard of the house where the afflicted heart--so happy in
14454
the memorable time when he had revealed his own desolate heart to
14455
it--outwatched the awful night. He entered the courtyard and remained
14456
there for a few moments alone, looking up at the light in the window of
14457
her room. Before he went away, he breathed a blessing towards it, and a
14458
Farewell.
14459

14460

14461

14462

14463
XIII. Fifty-two
14464

14465

14466
In the black prison of the Conciergerie, the doomed of the day awaited
14467
their fate. They were in number as the weeks of the year. Fifty-two were
14468
to roll that afternoon on the life-tide of the city to the boundless
14469
everlasting sea. Before their cells were quit of them, new occupants
14470
were appointed; before their blood ran into the blood spilled yesterday,
14471
the blood that was to mingle with theirs to-morrow was already set
14472
apart.
14473

14474
Two score and twelve were told off. From the farmer-general of seventy,
14475
whose riches could not buy his life, to the seamstress of twenty, whose
14476
poverty and obscurity could not save her. Physical diseases, engendered
14477
in the vices and neglects of men, will seize on victims of all degrees;
14478
and the frightful moral disorder, born of unspeakable suffering,
14479
intolerable oppression, and heartless indifference, smote equally
14480
without distinction.
14481

14482
Charles Darnay, alone in a cell, had sustained himself with no
14483
flattering delusion since he came to it from the Tribunal. In every line
14484
of the narrative he had heard, he had heard his condemnation. He had
14485
fully comprehended that no personal influence could possibly save him,
14486
that he was virtually sentenced by the millions, and that units could
14487
avail him nothing.
14488

14489
Nevertheless, it was not easy, with the face of his beloved wife fresh
14490
before him, to compose his mind to what it must bear. His hold on life
14491
was strong, and it was very, very hard, to loosen; by gradual efforts
14492
and degrees unclosed a little here, it clenched the tighter there; and
14493
when he brought his strength to bear on that hand and it yielded,
14494
this was closed again. There was a hurry, too, in all his thoughts,
14495
a turbulent and heated working of his heart, that contended against
14496
resignation. If, for a moment, he did feel resigned, then his wife and
14497
child who had to live after him, seemed to protest and to make it a
14498
selfish thing.
14499

14500
But, all this was at first. Before long, the consideration that there
14501
was no disgrace in the fate he must meet, and that numbers went the same
14502
road wrongfully, and trod it firmly every day, sprang up to stimulate
14503
him. Next followed the thought that much of the future peace of mind
14504
enjoyable by the dear ones, depended on his quiet fortitude. So,
14505
by degrees he calmed into the better state, when he could raise his
14506
thoughts much higher, and draw comfort down.
14507

14508
Before it had set in dark on the night of his condemnation, he had
14509
travelled thus far on his last way. Being allowed to purchase the means
14510
of writing, and a light, he sat down to write until such time as the
14511
prison lamps should be extinguished.
14512

14513
He wrote a long letter to Lucie, showing her that he had known nothing
14514
of her father's imprisonment, until he had heard of it from herself,
14515
and that he had been as ignorant as she of his father's and uncle's
14516
responsibility for that misery, until the paper had been read. He had
14517
already explained to her that his concealment from herself of the name
14518
he had relinquished, was the one condition--fully intelligible now--that
14519
her father had attached to their betrothal, and was the one promise he
14520
had still exacted on the morning of their marriage. He entreated her,
14521
for her father's sake, never to seek to know whether her father had
14522
become oblivious of the existence of the paper, or had had it recalled
14523
to him (for the moment, or for good), by the story of the Tower, on
14524
that old Sunday under the dear old plane-tree in the garden. If he had
14525
preserved any definite remembrance of it, there could be no doubt that
14526
he had supposed it destroyed with the Bastille, when he had found no
14527
mention of it among the relics of prisoners which the populace had
14528
discovered there, and which had been described to all the world. He
14529
besought her--though he added that he knew it was needless--to console
14530
her father, by impressing him through every tender means she could think
14531
of, with the truth that he had done nothing for which he could justly
14532
reproach himself, but had uniformly forgotten himself for their joint
14533
sakes. Next to her preservation of his own last grateful love and
14534
blessing, and her overcoming of her sorrow, to devote herself to their
14535
dear child, he adjured her, as they would meet in Heaven, to comfort her
14536
father.
14537

14538
To her father himself, he wrote in the same strain; but, he told her
14539
father that he expressly confided his wife and child to his care. And
14540
he told him this, very strongly, with the hope of rousing him from any
14541
despondency or dangerous retrospect towards which he foresaw he might be
14542
tending.
14543

14544
To Mr. Lorry, he commended them all, and explained his worldly affairs.
14545
That done, with many added sentences of grateful friendship and warm
14546
attachment, all was done. He never thought of Carton. His mind was so
14547
full of the others, that he never once thought of him.
14548

14549
He had time to finish these letters before the lights were put out. When
14550
he lay down on his straw bed, he thought he had done with this world.
14551

14552
But, it beckoned him back in his sleep, and showed itself in shining
14553
forms. Free and happy, back in the old house in Soho (though it had
14554
nothing in it like the real house), unaccountably released and light of
14555
heart, he was with Lucie again, and she told him it was all a dream, and
14556
he had never gone away. A pause of forgetfulness, and then he had even
14557
suffered, and had come back to her, dead and at peace, and yet there
14558
was no difference in him. Another pause of oblivion, and he awoke in the
14559
sombre morning, unconscious where he was or what had happened, until it
14560
flashed upon his mind, "this is the day of my death!"
14561

14562
Thus, had he come through the hours, to the day when the fifty-two heads
14563
were to fall. And now, while he was composed, and hoped that he could
14564
meet the end with quiet heroism, a new action began in his waking
14565
thoughts, which was very difficult to master.
14566

14567
He had never seen the instrument that was to terminate his life. How
14568
high it was from the ground, how many steps it had, where he would be
14569
stood, how he would be touched, whether the touching hands would be dyed
14570
red, which way his face would be turned, whether he would be the first,
14571
or might be the last: these and many similar questions, in nowise
14572
directed by his will, obtruded themselves over and over again, countless
14573
times. Neither were they connected with fear: he was conscious of no
14574
fear. Rather, they originated in a strange besetting desire to know what
14575
to do when the time came; a desire gigantically disproportionate to the
14576
few swift moments to which it referred; a wondering that was more like
14577
the wondering of some other spirit within his, than his own.
14578

14579
The hours went on as he walked to and fro, and the clocks struck the
14580
numbers he would never hear again. Nine gone for ever, ten gone for
14581
ever, eleven gone for ever, twelve coming on to pass away. After a hard
14582
contest with that eccentric action of thought which had last perplexed
14583
him, he had got the better of it. He walked up and down, softly
14584
repeating their names to himself. The worst of the strife was over.
14585
He could walk up and down, free from distracting fancies, praying for
14586
himself and for them.
14587

14588
Twelve gone for ever.
14589

14590
He had been apprised that the final hour was Three, and he knew he would
14591
be summoned some time earlier, inasmuch as the tumbrils jolted heavily
14592
and slowly through the streets. Therefore, he resolved to keep Two
14593
before his mind, as the hour, and so to strengthen himself in the
14594
interval that he might be able, after that time, to strengthen others.
14595

14596
Walking regularly to and fro with his arms folded on his breast, a very
14597
different man from the prisoner, who had walked to and fro at La Force,
14598
he heard One struck away from him, without surprise. The hour had
14599
measured like most other hours. Devoutly thankful to Heaven for his
14600
recovered self-possession, he thought, "There is but another now," and
14601
turned to walk again.
14602

14603
Footsteps in the stone passage outside the door. He stopped.
14604

14605
The key was put in the lock, and turned. Before the door was opened, or
14606
as it opened, a man said in a low voice, in English: "He has never seen
14607
me here; I have kept out of his way. Go you in alone; I wait near. Lose
14608
no time!"
14609

14610
The door was quickly opened and closed, and there stood before him
14611
face to face, quiet, intent upon him, with the light of a smile on his
14612
features, and a cautionary finger on his lip, Sydney Carton.
14613

14614
There was something so bright and remarkable in his look, that, for the
14615
first moment, the prisoner misdoubted him to be an apparition of his own
14616
imagining. But, he spoke, and it was his voice; he took the prisoner's
14617
hand, and it was his real grasp.
14618

14619
"Of all the people upon earth, you least expected to see me?" he said.
14620

14621
"I could not believe it to be you. I can scarcely believe it now. You
14622
are not"--the apprehension came suddenly into his mind--"a prisoner?"
14623

14624
"No. I am accidentally possessed of a power over one of the keepers
14625
here, and in virtue of it I stand before you. I come from her--your
14626
wife, dear Darnay."
14627

14628
The prisoner wrung his hand.
14629

14630
"I bring you a request from her."
14631

14632
"What is it?"
14633

14634
"A most earnest, pressing, and emphatic entreaty, addressed to you
14635
in the most pathetic tones of the voice so dear to you, that you well
14636
remember."
14637

14638
The prisoner turned his face partly aside.
14639

14640
"You have no time to ask me why I bring it, or what it means; I have
14641
no time to tell you. You must comply with it--take off those boots you
14642
wear, and draw on these of mine."
14643

14644
There was a chair against the wall of the cell, behind the prisoner.
14645
Carton, pressing forward, had already, with the speed of lightning, got
14646
him down into it, and stood over him, barefoot.
14647

14648
"Draw on these boots of mine. Put your hands to them; put your will to
14649
them. Quick!"
14650

14651
"Carton, there is no escaping from this place; it never can be done. You
14652
will only die with me. It is madness."
14653

14654
"It would be madness if I asked you to escape; but do I? When I ask you
14655
to pass out at that door, tell me it is madness and remain here. Change
14656
that cravat for this of mine, that coat for this of mine. While you do
14657
it, let me take this ribbon from your hair, and shake out your hair like
14658
this of mine!"
14659

14660
With wonderful quickness, and with a strength both of will and action,
14661
that appeared quite supernatural, he forced all these changes upon him.
14662
The prisoner was like a young child in his hands.
14663

14664
"Carton! Dear Carton! It is madness. It cannot be accomplished, it never
14665
can be done, it has been attempted, and has always failed. I implore you
14666
not to add your death to the bitterness of mine."
14667

14668
"Do I ask you, my dear Darnay, to pass the door? When I ask that,
14669
refuse. There are pen and ink and paper on this table. Is your hand
14670
steady enough to write?"
14671

14672
"It was when you came in."
14673

14674
"Steady it again, and write what I shall dictate. Quick, friend, quick!"
14675

14676
Pressing his hand to his bewildered head, Darnay sat down at the table.
14677
Carton, with his right hand in his breast, stood close beside him.
14678

14679
"Write exactly as I speak."
14680

14681
"To whom do I address it?"
14682

14683
"To no one." Carton still had his hand in his breast.
14684

14685
"Do I date it?"
14686

14687
"No."
14688

14689
The prisoner looked up, at each question. Carton, standing over him with
14690
his hand in his breast, looked down.
14691

14692
"'If you remember,'" said Carton, dictating, "'the words that passed
14693
between us, long ago, you will readily comprehend this when you see it.
14694
You do remember them, I know. It is not in your nature to forget them.'"
14695

14696
He was drawing his hand from his breast; the prisoner chancing to look
14697
up in his hurried wonder as he wrote, the hand stopped, closing upon
14698
something.
14699

14700
"Have you written 'forget them'?" Carton asked.
14701

14702
"I have. Is that a weapon in your hand?"
14703

14704
"No; I am not armed."
14705

14706
"What is it in your hand?"
14707

14708
"You shall know directly. Write on; there are but a few words more." He
14709
dictated again. "'I am thankful that the time has come, when I can prove
14710
them. That I do so is no subject for regret or grief.'" As he said these
14711
words with his eyes fixed on the writer, his hand slowly and softly
14712
moved down close to the writer's face.
14713

14714
The pen dropped from Darnay's fingers on the table, and he looked about
14715
him vacantly.
14716

14717
"What vapour is that?" he asked.
14718

14719
"Vapour?"
14720

14721
"Something that crossed me?"
14722

14723
"I am conscious of nothing; there can be nothing here. Take up the pen
14724
and finish. Hurry, hurry!"
14725

14726
As if his memory were impaired, or his faculties disordered, the
14727
prisoner made an effort to rally his attention. As he looked at Carton
14728
with clouded eyes and with an altered manner of breathing, Carton--his
14729
hand again in his breast--looked steadily at him.
14730

14731
"Hurry, hurry!"
14732

14733
The prisoner bent over the paper, once more.
14734

14735
"'If it had been otherwise;'" Carton's hand was again watchfully and
14736
softly stealing down; "'I never should have used the longer opportunity.
14737
If it had been otherwise;'" the hand was at the prisoner's face; "'I
14738
should but have had so much the more to answer for. If it had been
14739
otherwise--'" Carton looked at the pen and saw it was trailing off into
14740
unintelligible signs.
14741

14742
Carton's hand moved back to his breast no more. The prisoner sprang up
14743
with a reproachful look, but Carton's hand was close and firm at his
14744
nostrils, and Carton's left arm caught him round the waist. For a few
14745
seconds he faintly struggled with the man who had come to lay down his
14746
life for him; but, within a minute or so, he was stretched insensible on
14747
the ground.
14748

14749
Quickly, but with hands as true to the purpose as his heart was, Carton
14750
dressed himself in the clothes the prisoner had laid aside, combed back
14751
his hair, and tied it with the ribbon the prisoner had worn. Then, he
14752
softly called, "Enter there! Come in!" and the Spy presented himself.
14753

14754
"You see?" said Carton, looking up, as he kneeled on one knee beside the
14755
insensible figure, putting the paper in the breast: "is your hazard very
14756
great?"
14757

14758
"Mr. Carton," the Spy answered, with a timid snap of his fingers, "my
14759
hazard is not _that_, in the thick of business here, if you are true to
14760
the whole of your bargain."
14761

14762
"Don't fear me. I will be true to the death."
14763

14764
"You must be, Mr. Carton, if the tale of fifty-two is to be right. Being
14765
made right by you in that dress, I shall have no fear."
14766

14767
"Have no fear! I shall soon be out of the way of harming you, and the
14768
rest will soon be far from here, please God! Now, get assistance and
14769
take me to the coach."
14770

14771
"You?" said the Spy nervously.
14772

14773
"Him, man, with whom I have exchanged. You go out at the gate by which
14774
you brought me in?"
14775

14776
"Of course."
14777

14778
"I was weak and faint when you brought me in, and I am fainter now you
14779
take me out. The parting interview has overpowered me. Such a thing has
14780
happened here, often, and too often. Your life is in your own hands.
14781
Quick! Call assistance!"
14782

14783
"You swear not to betray me?" said the trembling Spy, as he paused for a
14784
last moment.
14785

14786
"Man, man!" returned Carton, stamping his foot; "have I sworn by no
14787
solemn vow already, to go through with this, that you waste the precious
14788
moments now? Take him yourself to the courtyard you know of, place
14789
him yourself in the carriage, show him yourself to Mr. Lorry, tell him
14790
yourself to give him no restorative but air, and to remember my words of
14791
last night, and his promise of last night, and drive away!"
14792

14793
The Spy withdrew, and Carton seated himself at the table, resting his
14794
forehead on his hands. The Spy returned immediately, with two men.
14795

14796
"How, then?" said one of them, contemplating the fallen figure. "So
14797
afflicted to find that his friend has drawn a prize in the lottery of
14798
Sainte Guillotine?"
14799

14800
"A good patriot," said the other, "could hardly have been more afflicted
14801
if the Aristocrat had drawn a blank."
14802

14803
They raised the unconscious figure, placed it on a litter they had
14804
brought to the door, and bent to carry it away.
14805

14806
"The time is short, Evremonde," said the Spy, in a warning voice.
14807

14808
"I know it well," answered Carton. "Be careful of my friend, I entreat
14809
you, and leave me."
14810

14811
"Come, then, my children," said Barsad. "Lift him, and come away!"
14812

14813
The door closed, and Carton was left alone. Straining his powers of
14814
listening to the utmost, he listened for any sound that might denote
14815
suspicion or alarm. There was none. Keys turned, doors clashed,
14816
footsteps passed along distant passages: no cry was raised, or hurry
14817
made, that seemed unusual. Breathing more freely in a little while, he
14818
sat down at the table, and listened again until the clock struck Two.
14819

14820
Sounds that he was not afraid of, for he divined their meaning, then
14821
began to be audible. Several doors were opened in succession, and
14822
finally his own. A gaoler, with a list in his hand, looked in, merely
14823
saying, "Follow me, Evremonde!" and he followed into a large dark room,
14824
at a distance. It was a dark winter day, and what with the shadows
14825
within, and what with the shadows without, he could but dimly discern
14826
the others who were brought there to have their arms bound. Some were
14827
standing; some seated. Some were lamenting, and in restless motion;
14828
but, these were few. The great majority were silent and still, looking
14829
fixedly at the ground.
14830

14831
As he stood by the wall in a dim corner, while some of the fifty-two
14832
were brought in after him, one man stopped in passing, to embrace him,
14833
as having a knowledge of him. It thrilled him with a great dread of
14834
discovery; but the man went on. A very few moments after that, a young
14835
woman, with a slight girlish form, a sweet spare face in which there was
14836
no vestige of colour, and large widely opened patient eyes, rose from
14837
the seat where he had observed her sitting, and came to speak to him.
14838

14839
"Citizen Evremonde," she said, touching him with her cold hand. "I am a
14840
poor little seamstress, who was with you in La Force."
14841

14842
He murmured for answer: "True. I forget what you were accused of?"
14843

14844
"Plots. Though the just Heaven knows that I am innocent of any. Is it
14845
likely? Who would think of plotting with a poor little weak creature
14846
like me?"
14847

14848
The forlorn smile with which she said it, so touched him, that tears
14849
started from his eyes.
14850

14851
"I am not afraid to die, Citizen Evremonde, but I have done nothing. I
14852
am not unwilling to die, if the Republic which is to do so much good
14853
to us poor, will profit by my death; but I do not know how that can be,
14854
Citizen Evremonde. Such a poor weak little creature!"
14855

14856
As the last thing on earth that his heart was to warm and soften to, it
14857
warmed and softened to this pitiable girl.
14858

14859
"I heard you were released, Citizen Evremonde. I hoped it was true?"
14860

14861
"It was. But, I was again taken and condemned."
14862

14863
"If I may ride with you, Citizen Evremonde, will you let me hold your
14864
hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it will give me
14865
more courage."
14866

14867
As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden doubt in
14868
them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn, hunger-worn young
14869
fingers, and touched his lips.
14870

14871
"Are you dying for him?" she whispered.
14872

14873
"And his wife and child. Hush! Yes."
14874

14875
"O you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?"
14876

14877
"Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last."
14878

14879
        *****
14880

14881
The same shadows that are falling on the prison, are falling, in that
14882
same hour of the early afternoon, on the Barrier with the crowd about
14883
it, when a coach going out of Paris drives up to be examined.
14884

14885
"Who goes here? Whom have we within? Papers!"
14886

14887
The papers are handed out, and read.
14888

14889
"Alexandre Manette. Physician. French. Which is he?"
14890

14891
This is he; this helpless, inarticulately murmuring, wandering old man
14892
pointed out.
14893

14894
"Apparently the Citizen-Doctor is not in his right mind? The
14895
Revolution-fever will have been too much for him?"
14896

14897
Greatly too much for him.
14898

14899
"Hah! Many suffer with it. Lucie. His daughter. French. Which is she?"
14900

14901
This is she.
14902

14903
"Apparently it must be. Lucie, the wife of Evremonde; is it not?"
14904

14905
It is.
14906

14907
"Hah! Evremonde has an assignation elsewhere. Lucie, her child. English.
14908
This is she?"
14909

14910
She and no other.
14911

14912
"Kiss me, child of Evremonde. Now, thou hast kissed a good Republican;
14913
something new in thy family; remember it! Sydney Carton. Advocate.
14914
English. Which is he?"
14915

14916
He lies here, in this corner of the carriage. He, too, is pointed out.
14917

14918
"Apparently the English advocate is in a swoon?"
14919

14920
It is hoped he will recover in the fresher air. It is represented that
14921
he is not in strong health, and has separated sadly from a friend who is
14922
under the displeasure of the Republic.
14923

14924
"Is that all? It is not a great deal, that! Many are under the
14925
displeasure of the Republic, and must look out at the little window.
14926
Jarvis Lorry. Banker. English. Which is he?"
14927

14928
"I am he. Necessarily, being the last."
14929

14930
It is Jarvis Lorry who has replied to all the previous questions. It
14931
is Jarvis Lorry who has alighted and stands with his hand on the coach
14932
door, replying to a group of officials. They leisurely walk round the
14933
carriage and leisurely mount the box, to look at what little luggage it
14934
carries on the roof; the country-people hanging about, press nearer to
14935
the coach doors and greedily stare in; a little child, carried by its
14936
mother, has its short arm held out for it, that it may touch the wife of
14937
an aristocrat who has gone to the Guillotine.
14938

14939
"Behold your papers, Jarvis Lorry, countersigned."
14940

14941
"One can depart, citizen?"
14942

14943
"One can depart. Forward, my postilions! A good journey!"
14944

14945
"I salute you, citizens.--And the first danger passed!"
14946

14947
These are again the words of Jarvis Lorry, as he clasps his hands, and
14948
looks upward. There is terror in the carriage, there is weeping, there
14949
is the heavy breathing of the insensible traveller.
14950

14951
"Are we not going too slowly? Can they not be induced to go faster?"
14952
 asks Lucie, clinging to the old man.
14953

14954
"It would seem like flight, my darling. I must not urge them too much;
14955
it would rouse suspicion."
14956

14957
"Look back, look back, and see if we are pursued!"
14958

14959
"The road is clear, my dearest. So far, we are not pursued."
14960

14961
Houses in twos and threes pass by us, solitary farms, ruinous buildings,
14962
dye-works, tanneries, and the like, open country, avenues of leafless
14963
trees. The hard uneven pavement is under us, the soft deep mud is on
14964
either side. Sometimes, we strike into the skirting mud, to avoid the
14965
stones that clatter us and shake us; sometimes, we stick in ruts and
14966
sloughs there. The agony of our impatience is then so great, that in our
14967
wild alarm and hurry we are for getting out and running--hiding--doing
14968
anything but stopping.
14969

14970
Out of the open country, in again among ruinous buildings, solitary
14971
farms, dye-works, tanneries, and the like, cottages in twos and threes,
14972
avenues of leafless trees. Have these men deceived us, and taken us back
14973
by another road? Is not this the same place twice over? Thank Heaven,
14974
no. A village. Look back, look back, and see if we are pursued! Hush!
14975
the posting-house.
14976

14977
Leisurely, our four horses are taken out; leisurely, the coach stands in
14978
the little street, bereft of horses, and with no likelihood upon it
14979
of ever moving again; leisurely, the new horses come into visible
14980
existence, one by one; leisurely, the new postilions follow, sucking and
14981
plaiting the lashes of their whips; leisurely, the old postilions count
14982
their money, make wrong additions, and arrive at dissatisfied results.
14983
All the time, our overfraught hearts are beating at a rate that would
14984
far outstrip the fastest gallop of the fastest horses ever foaled.
14985

14986
At length the new postilions are in their saddles, and the old are left
14987
behind. We are through the village, up the hill, and down the hill, and
14988
on the low watery grounds. Suddenly, the postilions exchange speech with
14989
animated gesticulation, and the horses are pulled up, almost on their
14990
haunches. We are pursued?
14991

14992
"Ho! Within the carriage there. Speak then!"
14993

14994
"What is it?" asks Mr. Lorry, looking out at window.
14995

14996
"How many did they say?"
14997

14998
"I do not understand you."
14999

15000
"--At the last post. How many to the Guillotine to-day?"
15001

15002
"Fifty-two."
15003

15004
"I said so! A brave number! My fellow-citizen here would have it
15005
forty-two; ten more heads are worth having. The Guillotine goes
15006
handsomely. I love it. Hi forward. Whoop!"
15007

15008
The night comes on dark. He moves more; he is beginning to revive, and
15009
to speak intelligibly; he thinks they are still together; he asks him,
15010
by his name, what he has in his hand. O pity us, kind Heaven, and help
15011
us! Look out, look out, and see if we are pursued.
15012

15013
The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and
15014
the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of
15015
us; but, so far, we are pursued by nothing else.
15016

15017

15018

15019

15020
XIV. The Knitting Done
15021

15022

15023
In that same juncture of time when the Fifty-Two awaited their fate
15024
Madame Defarge held darkly ominous council with The Vengeance and
15025
Jacques Three of the Revolutionary Jury. Not in the wine-shop did Madame
15026
Defarge confer with these ministers, but in the shed of the wood-sawyer,
15027
erst a mender of roads. The sawyer himself did not participate in the
15028
conference, but abided at a little distance, like an outer satellite who
15029
was not to speak until required, or to offer an opinion until invited.
15030

15031
"But our Defarge," said Jacques Three, "is undoubtedly a good
15032
Republican? Eh?"
15033

15034
"There is no better," the voluble Vengeance protested in her shrill
15035
notes, "in France."
15036

15037
"Peace, little Vengeance," said Madame Defarge, laying her hand with
15038
a slight frown on her lieutenant's lips, "hear me speak. My husband,
15039
fellow-citizen, is a good Republican and a bold man; he has deserved
15040
well of the Republic, and possesses its confidence. But my husband has
15041
his weaknesses, and he is so weak as to relent towards this Doctor."
15042

15043
"It is a great pity," croaked Jacques Three, dubiously shaking his head,
15044
with his cruel fingers at his hungry mouth; "it is not quite like a good
15045
citizen; it is a thing to regret."
15046

15047
"See you," said madame, "I care nothing for this Doctor, I. He may wear
15048
his head or lose it, for any interest I have in him; it is all one to
15049
me. But, the Evremonde people are to be exterminated, and the wife and
15050
child must follow the husband and father."
15051

15052
"She has a fine head for it," croaked Jacques Three. "I have seen blue
15053
eyes and golden hair there, and they looked charming when Samson held
15054
them up." Ogre that he was, he spoke like an epicure.
15055

15056
Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a little.
15057

15058
"The child also," observed Jacques Three, with a meditative enjoyment
15059
of his words, "has golden hair and blue eyes. And we seldom have a child
15060
there. It is a pretty sight!"
15061

15062
"In a word," said Madame Defarge, coming out of her short abstraction,
15063
"I cannot trust my husband in this matter. Not only do I feel, since
15064
last night, that I dare not confide to him the details of my projects;
15065
but also I feel that if I delay, there is danger of his giving warning,
15066
and then they might escape."
15067

15068
"That must never be," croaked Jacques Three; "no one must escape. We
15069
have not half enough as it is. We ought to have six score a day."
15070

15071
"In a word," Madame Defarge went on, "my husband has not my reason for
15072
pursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not his reason for
15073
regarding this Doctor with any sensibility. I must act for myself,
15074
therefore. Come hither, little citizen."
15075

15076
The wood-sawyer, who held her in the respect, and himself in the
15077
submission, of mortal fear, advanced with his hand to his red cap.
15078

15079
"Touching those signals, little citizen," said Madame Defarge, sternly,
15080
"that she made to the prisoners; you are ready to bear witness to them
15081
this very day?"
15082

15083
"Ay, ay, why not!" cried the sawyer. "Every day, in all weathers, from
15084
two to four, always signalling, sometimes with the little one, sometimes
15085
without. I know what I know. I have seen with my eyes."
15086

15087
He made all manner of gestures while he spoke, as if in incidental
15088
imitation of some few of the great diversity of signals that he had
15089
never seen.
15090

15091
"Clearly plots," said Jacques Three. "Transparently!"
15092

15093
"There is no doubt of the Jury?" inquired Madame Defarge, letting her
15094
eyes turn to him with a gloomy smile.
15095

15096
"Rely upon the patriotic Jury, dear citizeness. I answer for my
15097
fellow-Jurymen."
15098

15099
"Now, let me see," said Madame Defarge, pondering again. "Yet once more!
15100
Can I spare this Doctor to my husband? I have no feeling either way. Can
15101
I spare him?"
15102

15103
"He would count as one head," observed Jacques Three, in a low voice.
15104
"We really have not heads enough; it would be a pity, I think."
15105

15106
"He was signalling with her when I saw her," argued Madame Defarge; "I
15107
cannot speak of one without the other; and I must not be silent, and
15108
trust the case wholly to him, this little citizen here. For, I am not a
15109
bad witness."
15110

15111
The Vengeance and Jacques Three vied with each other in their fervent
15112
protestations that she was the most admirable and marvellous of
15113
witnesses. The little citizen, not to be outdone, declared her to be a
15114
celestial witness.
15115

15116
"He must take his chance," said Madame Defarge. "No, I cannot spare
15117
him! You are engaged at three o'clock; you are going to see the batch of
15118
to-day executed.--You?"
15119

15120
The question was addressed to the wood-sawyer, who hurriedly replied in
15121
the affirmative: seizing the occasion to add that he was the most ardent
15122
of Republicans, and that he would be in effect the most desolate of
15123
Republicans, if anything prevented him from enjoying the pleasure of
15124
smoking his afternoon pipe in the contemplation of the droll national
15125
barber. He was so very demonstrative herein, that he might have been
15126
suspected (perhaps was, by the dark eyes that looked contemptuously at
15127
him out of Madame Defarge's head) of having his small individual fears
15128
for his own personal safety, every hour in the day.
15129

15130
"I," said madame, "am equally engaged at the same place. After it is
15131
over--say at eight to-night--come you to me, in Saint Antoine, and we
15132
will give information against these people at my Section."
15133

15134
The wood-sawyer said he would be proud and flattered to attend the
15135
citizeness. The citizeness looking at him, he became embarrassed, evaded
15136
her glance as a small dog would have done, retreated among his wood, and
15137
hid his confusion over the handle of his saw.
15138

15139
Madame Defarge beckoned the Juryman and The Vengeance a little nearer to
15140
the door, and there expounded her further views to them thus:
15141

15142
"She will now be at home, awaiting the moment of his death. She will
15143
be mourning and grieving. She will be in a state of mind to impeach the
15144
justice of the Republic. She will be full of sympathy with its enemies.
15145
I will go to her."
15146

15147
"What an admirable woman; what an adorable woman!" exclaimed Jacques
15148
Three, rapturously. "Ah, my cherished!" cried The Vengeance; and
15149
embraced her.
15150

15151
"Take you my knitting," said Madame Defarge, placing it in her
15152
lieutenant's hands, "and have it ready for me in my usual seat. Keep
15153
me my usual chair. Go you there, straight, for there will probably be a
15154
greater concourse than usual, to-day."
15155

15156
"I willingly obey the orders of my Chief," said The Vengeance with
15157
alacrity, and kissing her cheek. "You will not be late?"
15158

15159
"I shall be there before the commencement."
15160

15161
"And before the tumbrils arrive. Be sure you are there, my soul," said
15162
The Vengeance, calling after her, for she had already turned into the
15163
street, "before the tumbrils arrive!"
15164

15165
Madame Defarge slightly waved her hand, to imply that she heard, and
15166
might be relied upon to arrive in good time, and so went through the
15167
mud, and round the corner of the prison wall. The Vengeance and the
15168
Juryman, looking after her as she walked away, were highly appreciative
15169
of her fine figure, and her superb moral endowments.
15170

15171
There were many women at that time, upon whom the time laid a dreadfully
15172
disfiguring hand; but, there was not one among them more to be dreaded
15173
than this ruthless woman, now taking her way along the streets. Of a
15174
strong and fearless character, of shrewd sense and readiness, of great
15175
determination, of that kind of beauty which not only seems to impart
15176
to its possessor firmness and animosity, but to strike into others an
15177
instinctive recognition of those qualities; the troubled time would have
15178
heaved her up, under any circumstances. But, imbued from her childhood
15179
with a brooding sense of wrong, and an inveterate hatred of a class,
15180
opportunity had developed her into a tigress. She was absolutely without
15181
pity. If she had ever had the virtue in her, it had quite gone out of
15182
her.
15183

15184
It was nothing to her, that an innocent man was to die for the sins of
15185
his forefathers; she saw, not him, but them. It was nothing to her, that
15186
his wife was to be made a widow and his daughter an orphan; that was
15187
insufficient punishment, because they were her natural enemies and
15188
her prey, and as such had no right to live. To appeal to her, was made
15189
hopeless by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she had
15190
been laid low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in which
15191
she had been engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she had
15192
been ordered to the axe to-morrow, would she have gone to it with any
15193
softer feeling than a fierce desire to change places with the man who
15194
sent her there.
15195

15196
Such a heart Madame Defarge carried under her rough robe. Carelessly
15197
worn, it was a becoming robe enough, in a certain weird way, and her
15198
dark hair looked rich under her coarse red cap. Lying hidden in her
15199
bosom, was a loaded pistol. Lying hidden at her waist, was a sharpened
15200
dagger. Thus accoutred, and walking with the confident tread of such
15201
a character, and with the supple freedom of a woman who had habitually
15202
walked in her girlhood, bare-foot and bare-legged, on the brown
15203
sea-sand, Madame Defarge took her way along the streets.
15204

15205
Now, when the journey of the travelling coach, at that very moment
15206
waiting for the completion of its load, had been planned out last night,
15207
the difficulty of taking Miss Pross in it had much engaged Mr. Lorry's
15208
attention. It was not merely desirable to avoid overloading the coach,
15209
but it was of the highest importance that the time occupied in examining
15210
it and its passengers, should be reduced to the utmost; since their
15211
escape might depend on the saving of only a few seconds here and there.
15212
Finally, he had proposed, after anxious consideration, that Miss Pross
15213
and Jerry, who were at liberty to leave the city, should leave it at
15214
three o'clock in the lightest-wheeled conveyance known to that period.
15215
Unencumbered with luggage, they would soon overtake the coach, and,
15216
passing it and preceding it on the road, would order its horses in
15217
advance, and greatly facilitate its progress during the precious hours
15218
of the night, when delay was the most to be dreaded.
15219

15220
Seeing in this arrangement the hope of rendering real service in that
15221
pressing emergency, Miss Pross hailed it with joy. She and Jerry had
15222
beheld the coach start, had known who it was that Solomon brought, had
15223
passed some ten minutes in tortures of suspense, and were now concluding
15224
their arrangements to follow the coach, even as Madame Defarge,
15225
taking her way through the streets, now drew nearer and nearer to the
15226
else-deserted lodging in which they held their consultation.
15227

15228
"Now what do you think, Mr. Cruncher," said Miss Pross, whose agitation
15229
was so great that she could hardly speak, or stand, or move, or live:
15230
"what do you think of our not starting from this courtyard? Another
15231
carriage having already gone from here to-day, it might awaken
15232
suspicion."
15233

15234
"My opinion, miss," returned Mr. Cruncher, "is as you're right. Likewise
15235
wot I'll stand by you, right or wrong."
15236

15237
"I am so distracted with fear and hope for our precious creatures," said
15238
Miss Pross, wildly crying, "that I am incapable of forming any plan. Are
15239
_you_ capable of forming any plan, my dear good Mr. Cruncher?"
15240

15241
"Respectin' a future spear o' life, miss," returned Mr. Cruncher, "I
15242
hope so. Respectin' any present use o' this here blessed old head o'
15243
mine, I think not. Would you do me the favour, miss, to take notice o'
15244
two promises and wows wot it is my wishes fur to record in this here
15245
crisis?"
15246

15247
"Oh, for gracious sake!" cried Miss Pross, still wildly crying, "record
15248
them at once, and get them out of the way, like an excellent man."
15249

15250
"First," said Mr. Cruncher, who was all in a tremble, and who spoke with
15251
an ashy and solemn visage, "them poor things well out o' this, never no
15252
more will I do it, never no more!"
15253

15254
"I am quite sure, Mr. Cruncher," returned Miss Pross, "that you
15255
never will do it again, whatever it is, and I beg you not to think it
15256
necessary to mention more particularly what it is."
15257

15258
"No, miss," returned Jerry, "it shall not be named to you. Second: them
15259
poor things well out o' this, and never no more will I interfere with
15260
Mrs. Cruncher's flopping, never no more!"
15261

15262
"Whatever housekeeping arrangement that may be," said Miss Pross,
15263
striving to dry her eyes and compose herself, "I have no doubt it
15264
is best that Mrs. Cruncher should have it entirely under her own
15265
superintendence.--O my poor darlings!"
15266

15267
"I go so far as to say, miss, moreover," proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with a
15268
most alarming tendency to hold forth as from a pulpit--"and let my words
15269
be took down and took to Mrs. Cruncher through yourself--that wot my
15270
opinions respectin' flopping has undergone a change, and that wot I only
15271
hope with all my heart as Mrs. Cruncher may be a flopping at the present
15272
time."
15273

15274
"There, there, there! I hope she is, my dear man," cried the distracted
15275
Miss Pross, "and I hope she finds it answering her expectations."
15276

15277
"Forbid it," proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with additional solemnity,
15278
additional slowness, and additional tendency to hold forth and hold
15279
out, "as anything wot I have ever said or done should be wisited on my
15280
earnest wishes for them poor creeturs now! Forbid it as we shouldn't all
15281
flop (if it was anyways conwenient) to get 'em out o' this here dismal
15282
risk! Forbid it, miss! Wot I say, for-_bid_ it!" This was Mr. Cruncher's
15283
conclusion after a protracted but vain endeavour to find a better one.
15284

15285
And still Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets, came
15286
nearer and nearer.
15287

15288
"If we ever get back to our native land," said Miss Pross, "you may rely
15289
upon my telling Mrs. Cruncher as much as I may be able to remember and
15290
understand of what you have so impressively said; and at all events
15291
you may be sure that I shall bear witness to your being thoroughly in
15292
earnest at this dreadful time. Now, pray let us think! My esteemed Mr.
15293
Cruncher, let us think!"
15294

15295
Still, Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets, came nearer
15296
and nearer.
15297

15298
"If you were to go before," said Miss Pross, "and stop the vehicle and
15299
horses from coming here, and were to wait somewhere for me; wouldn't
15300
that be best?"
15301

15302
Mr. Cruncher thought it might be best.
15303

15304
"Where could you wait for me?" asked Miss Pross.
15305

15306
Mr. Cruncher was so bewildered that he could think of no locality but
15307
Temple Bar. Alas! Temple Bar was hundreds of miles away, and Madame
15308
Defarge was drawing very near indeed.
15309

15310
"By the cathedral door," said Miss Pross. "Would it be much out of
15311
the way, to take me in, near the great cathedral door between the two
15312
towers?"
15313

15314
"No, miss," answered Mr. Cruncher.
15315

15316
"Then, like the best of men," said Miss Pross, "go to the posting-house
15317
straight, and make that change."
15318

15319
"I am doubtful," said Mr. Cruncher, hesitating and shaking his head,
15320
"about leaving of you, you see. We don't know what may happen."
15321

15322
"Heaven knows we don't," returned Miss Pross, "but have no fear for me.
15323
Take me in at the cathedral, at Three o'Clock, or as near it as you can,
15324
and I am sure it will be better than our going from here. I feel certain
15325
of it. There! Bless you, Mr. Cruncher! Think-not of me, but of the lives
15326
that may depend on both of us!"
15327

15328
This exordium, and Miss Pross's two hands in quite agonised entreaty
15329
clasping his, decided Mr. Cruncher. With an encouraging nod or two, he
15330
immediately went out to alter the arrangements, and left her by herself
15331
to follow as she had proposed.
15332

15333
The having originated a precaution which was already in course of
15334
execution, was a great relief to Miss Pross. The necessity of composing
15335
her appearance so that it should attract no special notice in the
15336
streets, was another relief. She looked at her watch, and it was twenty
15337
minutes past two. She had no time to lose, but must get ready at once.
15338

15339
Afraid, in her extreme perturbation, of the loneliness of the deserted
15340
rooms, and of half-imagined faces peeping from behind every open door
15341
in them, Miss Pross got a basin of cold water and began laving her eyes,
15342
which were swollen and red. Haunted by her feverish apprehensions, she
15343
could not bear to have her sight obscured for a minute at a time by the
15344
dripping water, but constantly paused and looked round to see that there
15345
was no one watching her. In one of those pauses she recoiled and cried
15346
out, for she saw a figure standing in the room.
15347

15348
The basin fell to the ground broken, and the water flowed to the feet of
15349
Madame Defarge. By strange stern ways, and through much staining blood,
15350
those feet had come to meet that water.
15351

15352
Madame Defarge looked coldly at her, and said, "The wife of Evremonde;
15353
where is she?"
15354

15355
It flashed upon Miss Pross's mind that the doors were all standing open,
15356
and would suggest the flight. Her first act was to shut them. There were
15357
four in the room, and she shut them all. She then placed herself before
15358
the door of the chamber which Lucie had occupied.
15359

15360
Madame Defarge's dark eyes followed her through this rapid movement,
15361
and rested on her when it was finished. Miss Pross had nothing beautiful
15362
about her; years had not tamed the wildness, or softened the grimness,
15363
of her appearance; but, she too was a determined woman in her different
15364
way, and she measured Madame Defarge with her eyes, every inch.
15365

15366
"You might, from your appearance, be the wife of Lucifer," said Miss
15367
Pross, in her breathing. "Nevertheless, you shall not get the better of
15368
me. I am an Englishwoman."
15369

15370
Madame Defarge looked at her scornfully, but still with something of
15371
Miss Pross's own perception that they two were at bay. She saw a tight,
15372
hard, wiry woman before her, as Mr. Lorry had seen in the same figure a
15373
woman with a strong hand, in the years gone by. She knew full well that
15374
Miss Pross was the family's devoted friend; Miss Pross knew full well
15375
that Madame Defarge was the family's malevolent enemy.
15376

15377
"On my way yonder," said Madame Defarge, with a slight movement of
15378
her hand towards the fatal spot, "where they reserve my chair and my
15379
knitting for me, I am come to make my compliments to her in passing. I
15380
wish to see her."
15381

15382
"I know that your intentions are evil," said Miss Pross, "and you may
15383
depend upon it, I'll hold my own against them."
15384

15385
Each spoke in her own language; neither understood the other's words;
15386
both were very watchful, and intent to deduce from look and manner, what
15387
the unintelligible words meant.
15388

15389
"It will do her no good to keep herself concealed from me at this
15390
moment," said Madame Defarge. "Good patriots will know what that means.
15391
Let me see her. Go tell her that I wish to see her. Do you hear?"
15392

15393
"If those eyes of yours were bed-winches," returned Miss Pross, "and I
15394
was an English four-poster, they shouldn't loose a splinter of me. No,
15395
you wicked foreign woman; I am your match."
15396

15397
Madame Defarge was not likely to follow these idiomatic remarks in
15398
detail; but, she so far understood them as to perceive that she was set
15399
at naught.
15400

15401
"Woman imbecile and pig-like!" said Madame Defarge, frowning. "I take no
15402
answer from you. I demand to see her. Either tell her that I demand
15403
to see her, or stand out of the way of the door and let me go to her!"
15404
 This, with an angry explanatory wave of her right arm.
15405

15406
"I little thought," said Miss Pross, "that I should ever want to
15407
understand your nonsensical language; but I would give all I have,
15408
except the clothes I wear, to know whether you suspect the truth, or any
15409
part of it."
15410

15411
Neither of them for a single moment released the other's eyes. Madame
15412
Defarge had not moved from the spot where she stood when Miss Pross
15413
first became aware of her; but, she now advanced one step.
15414

15415
"I am a Briton," said Miss Pross, "I am desperate. I don't care an
15416
English Twopence for myself. I know that the longer I keep you here, the
15417
greater hope there is for my Ladybird. I'll not leave a handful of that
15418
dark hair upon your head, if you lay a finger on me!"
15419

15420
Thus Miss Pross, with a shake of her head and a flash of her eyes
15421
between every rapid sentence, and every rapid sentence a whole breath.
15422
Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck a blow in her life.
15423

15424
But, her courage was of that emotional nature that it brought the
15425
irrepressible tears into her eyes. This was a courage that Madame
15426
Defarge so little comprehended as to mistake for weakness. "Ha, ha!" she
15427
laughed, "you poor wretch! What are you worth! I address myself to that
15428
Doctor." Then she raised her voice and called out, "Citizen Doctor! Wife
15429
of Evremonde! Child of Evremonde! Any person but this miserable fool,
15430
answer the Citizeness Defarge!"
15431

15432
Perhaps the following silence, perhaps some latent disclosure in the
15433
expression of Miss Pross's face, perhaps a sudden misgiving apart from
15434
either suggestion, whispered to Madame Defarge that they were gone.
15435
Three of the doors she opened swiftly, and looked in.
15436

15437
"Those rooms are all in disorder, there has been hurried packing, there
15438
are odds and ends upon the ground. There is no one in that room behind
15439
you! Let me look."
15440

15441
"Never!" said Miss Pross, who understood the request as perfectly as
15442
Madame Defarge understood the answer.
15443

15444
"If they are not in that room, they are gone, and can be pursued and
15445
brought back," said Madame Defarge to herself.
15446

15447
"As long as you don't know whether they are in that room or not, you are
15448
uncertain what to do," said Miss Pross to herself; "and you shall not
15449
know that, if I can prevent your knowing it; and know that, or not know
15450
that, you shall not leave here while I can hold you."
15451

15452
"I have been in the streets from the first, nothing has stopped me,
15453
I will tear you to pieces, but I will have you from that door," said
15454
Madame Defarge.
15455

15456
"We are alone at the top of a high house in a solitary courtyard, we are
15457
not likely to be heard, and I pray for bodily strength to keep you here,
15458
while every minute you are here is worth a hundred thousand guineas to
15459
my darling," said Miss Pross.
15460

15461
Madame Defarge made at the door. Miss Pross, on the instinct of the
15462
moment, seized her round the waist in both her arms, and held her tight.
15463
It was in vain for Madame Defarge to struggle and to strike; Miss Pross,
15464
with the vigorous tenacity of love, always so much stronger than hate,
15465
clasped her tight, and even lifted her from the floor in the struggle
15466
that they had. The two hands of Madame Defarge buffeted and tore her
15467
face; but, Miss Pross, with her head down, held her round the waist, and
15468
clung to her with more than the hold of a drowning woman.
15469

15470
Soon, Madame Defarge's hands ceased to strike, and felt at her encircled
15471
waist. "It is under my arm," said Miss Pross, in smothered tones, "you
15472
shall not draw it. I am stronger than you, I bless Heaven for it. I hold
15473
you till one or other of us faints or dies!"
15474

15475
Madame Defarge's hands were at her bosom. Miss Pross looked up, saw
15476
what it was, struck at it, struck out a flash and a crash, and stood
15477
alone--blinded with smoke.
15478

15479
All this was in a second. As the smoke cleared, leaving an awful
15480
stillness, it passed out on the air, like the soul of the furious woman
15481
whose body lay lifeless on the ground.
15482

15483
In the first fright and horror of her situation, Miss Pross passed the
15484
body as far from it as she could, and ran down the stairs to call for
15485
fruitless help. Happily, she bethought herself of the consequences of
15486
what she did, in time to check herself and go back. It was dreadful to
15487
go in at the door again; but, she did go in, and even went near it, to
15488
get the bonnet and other things that she must wear. These she put on,
15489
out on the staircase, first shutting and locking the door and taking
15490
away the key. She then sat down on the stairs a few moments to breathe
15491
and to cry, and then got up and hurried away.
15492

15493
By good fortune she had a veil on her bonnet, or she could hardly have
15494
gone along the streets without being stopped. By good fortune, too, she
15495
was naturally so peculiar in appearance as not to show disfigurement
15496
like any other woman. She needed both advantages, for the marks of
15497
gripping fingers were deep in her face, and her hair was torn, and her
15498
dress (hastily composed with unsteady hands) was clutched and dragged a
15499
hundred ways.
15500

15501
In crossing the bridge, she dropped the door key in the river. Arriving
15502
at the cathedral some few minutes before her escort, and waiting there,
15503
she thought, what if the key were already taken in a net, what if
15504
it were identified, what if the door were opened and the remains
15505
discovered, what if she were stopped at the gate, sent to prison, and
15506
charged with murder! In the midst of these fluttering thoughts, the
15507
escort appeared, took her in, and took her away.
15508

15509
"Is there any noise in the streets?" she asked him.
15510

15511
"The usual noises," Mr. Cruncher replied; and looked surprised by the
15512
question and by her aspect.
15513

15514
"I don't hear you," said Miss Pross. "What do you say?"
15515

15516
It was in vain for Mr. Cruncher to repeat what he said; Miss Pross could
15517
not hear him. "So I'll nod my head," thought Mr. Cruncher, amazed, "at
15518
all events she'll see that." And she did.
15519

15520
"Is there any noise in the streets now?" asked Miss Pross again,
15521
presently.
15522

15523
Again Mr. Cruncher nodded his head.
15524

15525
"I don't hear it."
15526

15527
"Gone deaf in an hour?" said Mr. Cruncher, ruminating, with his mind
15528
much disturbed; "wot's come to her?"
15529

15530
"I feel," said Miss Pross, "as if there had been a flash and a crash,
15531
and that crash was the last thing I should ever hear in this life."
15532

15533
"Blest if she ain't in a queer condition!" said Mr. Cruncher, more and
15534
more disturbed. "Wot can she have been a takin', to keep her courage up?
15535
Hark! There's the roll of them dreadful carts! You can hear that, miss?"
15536

15537
"I can hear," said Miss Pross, seeing that he spoke to her, "nothing. O,
15538
my good man, there was first a great crash, and then a great stillness,
15539
and that stillness seems to be fixed and unchangeable, never to be
15540
broken any more as long as my life lasts."
15541

15542
"If she don't hear the roll of those dreadful carts, now very nigh their
15543
journey's end," said Mr. Cruncher, glancing over his shoulder, "it's my
15544
opinion that indeed she never will hear anything else in this world."
15545

15546
And indeed she never did.
15547

15548

15549

15550

15551
XV. The Footsteps Die Out For Ever
15552

15553

15554
Along the Paris streets, the death-carts rumble, hollow and harsh. Six
15555
tumbrils carry the day's wine to La Guillotine. All the devouring and
15556
insatiate Monsters imagined since imagination could record itself,
15557
are fused in the one realisation, Guillotine. And yet there is not in
15558
France, with its rich variety of soil and climate, a blade, a leaf,
15559
a root, a sprig, a peppercorn, which will grow to maturity under
15560
conditions more certain than those that have produced this horror. Crush
15561
humanity out of shape once more, under similar hammers, and it will
15562
twist itself into the same tortured forms. Sow the same seed of
15563
rapacious license and oppression over again, and it will surely yield
15564
the same fruit according to its kind.
15565

15566
Six tumbrils roll along the streets. Change these back again to what
15567
they were, thou powerful enchanter, Time, and they shall be seen to be
15568
the carriages of absolute monarchs, the equipages of feudal nobles, the
15569
toilettes of flaring Jezebels, the churches that are not my father's
15570
house but dens of thieves, the huts of millions of starving peasants!
15571
No; the great magician who majestically works out the appointed order
15572
of the Creator, never reverses his transformations. "If thou be changed
15573
into this shape by the will of God," say the seers to the enchanted, in
15574
the wise Arabian stories, "then remain so! But, if thou wear this
15575
form through mere passing conjuration, then resume thy former aspect!"
15576
 Changeless and hopeless, the tumbrils roll along.
15577

15578
As the sombre wheels of the six carts go round, they seem to plough up
15579
a long crooked furrow among the populace in the streets. Ridges of faces
15580
are thrown to this side and to that, and the ploughs go steadily onward.
15581
So used are the regular inhabitants of the houses to the spectacle, that
15582
in many windows there are no people, and in some the occupation of the
15583
hands is not so much as suspended, while the eyes survey the faces in
15584
the tumbrils. Here and there, the inmate has visitors to see the sight;
15585
then he points his finger, with something of the complacency of a
15586
curator or authorised exponent, to this cart and to this, and seems to
15587
tell who sat here yesterday, and who there the day before.
15588

15589
Of the riders in the tumbrils, some observe these things, and all
15590
things on their last roadside, with an impassive stare; others, with
15591
a lingering interest in the ways of life and men. Some, seated with
15592
drooping heads, are sunk in silent despair; again, there are some so
15593
heedful of their looks that they cast upon the multitude such glances as
15594
they have seen in theatres, and in pictures. Several close their eyes,
15595
and think, or try to get their straying thoughts together. Only one, and
15596
he a miserable creature, of a crazed aspect, is so shattered and made
15597
drunk by horror, that he sings, and tries to dance. Not one of the whole
15598
number appeals by look or gesture, to the pity of the people.
15599

15600
There is a guard of sundry horsemen riding abreast of the tumbrils,
15601
and faces are often turned up to some of them, and they are asked some
15602
question. It would seem to be always the same question, for, it is
15603
always followed by a press of people towards the third cart. The
15604
horsemen abreast of that cart, frequently point out one man in it with
15605
their swords. The leading curiosity is, to know which is he; he stands
15606
at the back of the tumbril with his head bent down, to converse with a
15607
mere girl who sits on the side of the cart, and holds his hand. He has
15608
no curiosity or care for the scene about him, and always speaks to the
15609
girl. Here and there in the long street of St. Honore, cries are raised
15610
against him. If they move him at all, it is only to a quiet smile, as he
15611
shakes his hair a little more loosely about his face. He cannot easily
15612
touch his face, his arms being bound.
15613

15614
On the steps of a church, awaiting the coming-up of the tumbrils, stands
15615
the Spy and prison-sheep. He looks into the first of them: not there.
15616
He looks into the second: not there. He already asks himself, "Has he
15617
sacrificed me?" when his face clears, as he looks into the third.
15618

15619
"Which is Evremonde?" says a man behind him.
15620

15621
"That. At the back there."
15622

15623
"With his hand in the girl's?"
15624

15625
"Yes."
15626

15627
The man cries, "Down, Evremonde! To the Guillotine all aristocrats!
15628
Down, Evremonde!"
15629

15630
"Hush, hush!" the Spy entreats him, timidly.
15631

15632
"And why not, citizen?"
15633

15634
"He is going to pay the forfeit: it will be paid in five minutes more.
15635
Let him be at peace."
15636

15637
But the man continuing to exclaim, "Down, Evremonde!" the face of
15638
Evremonde is for a moment turned towards him. Evremonde then sees the
15639
Spy, and looks attentively at him, and goes his way.
15640

15641
The clocks are on the stroke of three, and the furrow ploughed among the
15642
populace is turning round, to come on into the place of execution, and
15643
end. The ridges thrown to this side and to that, now crumble in and
15644
close behind the last plough as it passes on, for all are following
15645
to the Guillotine. In front of it, seated in chairs, as in a garden of
15646
public diversion, are a number of women, busily knitting. On one of the
15647
fore-most chairs, stands The Vengeance, looking about for her friend.
15648

15649
"Therese!" she cries, in her shrill tones. "Who has seen her? Therese
15650
Defarge!"
15651

15652
"She never missed before," says a knitting-woman of the sisterhood.
15653

15654
"No; nor will she miss now," cries The Vengeance, petulantly. "Therese."
15655

15656
"Louder," the woman recommends.
15657

15658
Ay! Louder, Vengeance, much louder, and still she will scarcely hear
15659
thee. Louder yet, Vengeance, with a little oath or so added, and yet
15660
it will hardly bring her. Send other women up and down to seek her,
15661
lingering somewhere; and yet, although the messengers have done dread
15662
deeds, it is questionable whether of their own wills they will go far
15663
enough to find her!
15664

15665
"Bad Fortune!" cries The Vengeance, stamping her foot in the chair, "and
15666
here are the tumbrils! And Evremonde will be despatched in a wink, and
15667
she not here! See her knitting in my hand, and her empty chair ready for
15668
her. I cry with vexation and disappointment!"
15669

15670
As The Vengeance descends from her elevation to do it, the tumbrils
15671
begin to discharge their loads. The ministers of Sainte Guillotine are
15672
robed and ready. Crash!--A head is held up, and the knitting-women who
15673
scarcely lifted their eyes to look at it a moment ago when it could
15674
think and speak, count One.
15675

15676
The second tumbril empties and moves on; the third comes up. Crash!--And
15677
the knitting-women, never faltering or pausing in their Work, count Two.
15678

15679
The supposed Evremonde descends, and the seamstress is lifted out next
15680
after him. He has not relinquished her patient hand in getting out, but
15681
still holds it as he promised. He gently places her with her back to the
15682
crashing engine that constantly whirrs up and falls, and she looks into
15683
his face and thanks him.
15684

15685
"But for you, dear stranger, I should not be so composed, for I am
15686
naturally a poor little thing, faint of heart; nor should I have been
15687
able to raise my thoughts to Him who was put to death, that we might
15688
have hope and comfort here to-day. I think you were sent to me by
15689
Heaven."
15690

15691
"Or you to me," says Sydney Carton. "Keep your eyes upon me, dear child,
15692
and mind no other object."
15693

15694
"I mind nothing while I hold your hand. I shall mind nothing when I let
15695
it go, if they are rapid."
15696

15697
"They will be rapid. Fear not!"
15698

15699
The two stand in the fast-thinning throng of victims, but they speak as
15700
if they were alone. Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to
15701
heart, these two children of the Universal Mother, else so wide apart
15702
and differing, have come together on the dark highway, to repair home
15703
together, and to rest in her bosom.
15704

15705
"Brave and generous friend, will you let me ask you one last question? I
15706
am very ignorant, and it troubles me--just a little."
15707

15708
"Tell me what it is."
15709

15710
"I have a cousin, an only relative and an orphan, like myself, whom I
15711
love very dearly. She is five years younger than I, and she lives in a
15712
farmer's house in the south country. Poverty parted us, and she knows
15713
nothing of my fate--for I cannot write--and if I could, how should I
15714
tell her! It is better as it is."
15715

15716
"Yes, yes: better as it is."
15717

15718
"What I have been thinking as we came along, and what I am still
15719
thinking now, as I look into your kind strong face which gives me so
15720
much support, is this:--If the Republic really does good to the poor,
15721
and they come to be less hungry, and in all ways to suffer less, she may
15722
live a long time: she may even live to be old."
15723

15724
"What then, my gentle sister?"
15725

15726
"Do you think:" the uncomplaining eyes in which there is so much
15727
endurance, fill with tears, and the lips part a little more and tremble:
15728
"that it will seem long to me, while I wait for her in the better land
15729
where I trust both you and I will be mercifully sheltered?"
15730

15731
"It cannot be, my child; there is no Time there, and no trouble there."
15732

15733
"You comfort me so much! I am so ignorant. Am I to kiss you now? Is the
15734
moment come?"
15735

15736
"Yes."
15737

15738
She kisses his lips; he kisses hers; they solemnly bless each other.
15739
The spare hand does not tremble as he releases it; nothing worse than
15740
a sweet, bright constancy is in the patient face. She goes next before
15741
him--is gone; the knitting-women count Twenty-Two.
15742

15743
"I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord: he that believeth
15744
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and
15745
believeth in me shall never die."
15746

15747
The murmuring of many voices, the upturning of many faces, the pressing
15748
on of many footsteps in the outskirts of the crowd, so that it swells
15749
forward in a mass, like one great heave of water, all flashes away.
15750
Twenty-Three.
15751

15752
        *****
15753

15754
They said of him, about the city that night, that it was the
15755
peacefullest man's face ever beheld there. Many added that he looked
15756
sublime and prophetic.
15757

15758
One of the most remarkable sufferers by the same axe--a woman--had asked
15759
at the foot of the same scaffold, not long before, to be allowed to
15760
write down the thoughts that were inspiring her. If he had given any
15761
utterance to his, and they were prophetic, they would have been these:
15762

15763
"I see Barsad, and Cly, Defarge, The Vengeance, the Juryman, the Judge,
15764
long ranks of the new oppressors who have risen on the destruction of
15765
the old, perishing by this retributive instrument, before it shall cease
15766
out of its present use. I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people
15767
rising from this abyss, and, in their struggles to be truly free, in
15768
their triumphs and defeats, through long years to come, I see the evil
15769
of this time and of the previous time of which this is the natural
15770
birth, gradually making expiation for itself and wearing out.
15771

15772
"I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful,
15773
prosperous and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see
15774
Her with a child upon her bosom, who bears my name. I see her father,
15775
aged and bent, but otherwise restored, and faithful to all men in his
15776
healing office, and at peace. I see the good old man, so long their
15777
friend, in ten years' time enriching them with all he has, and passing
15778
tranquilly to his reward.
15779

15780
"I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of
15781
their descendants, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping
15782
for me on the anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband, their
15783
course done, lying side by side in their last earthly bed, and I know
15784
that each was not more honoured and held sacred in the other's soul,
15785
than I was in the souls of both.
15786

15787
"I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a man
15788
winning his way up in that path of life which once was mine. I see him
15789
winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the
15790
light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him,
15791
fore-most of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name,
15792
with a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place--then fair to
15793
look upon, with not a trace of this day's disfigurement--and I hear him
15794
tell the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice.
15795

15796
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a
15797
far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
15798

15799