English
Fromthedimly-lightedpassagesofthecourt,thelastsedimentofthehumanstewthathadbeenboilingthereallday,wasstrainingoff,whenDoctorManette,LucieManette,hisdaughter,Mr.Lorry,thesolicitorforthedefence,anditscounsel,Mr.Stryver,stoodgatheredroundMr.CharlesDarnay—justreleased—congratulatinghimonhisescapefromdeath.
Itwouldhavebeendifficultbyafarbrighterlight,torecogniseinDoctorManette,intellectualoffaceanduprightofbearing,theshoemakerofthegarretinParis.
Yet,noonecouldhavelookedathimtwice,withoutlookingagain:eventhoughtheopportunityofobservationhadnotextendedtothemournfulcadenceofhislowgravevoice,andtotheabstractionthatovercloudedhimfitfully,withoutanyapparentreason.
Whileoneexternalcause,andthatareferencetohislonglingeringagony,wouldalways—asonthetrial—evokethisconditionfromthedepthsofhissoul,itwasalsoinitsnaturetoariseofitself,andtodrawagloomoverhim,asincomprehensibletothoseunacquaintedwithhisstoryasiftheyhadseentheshadowoftheactualBastillethrownuponhimbyasummersun,whenthesubstancewasthreehundredmilesaway.
Onlyhisdaughterhadthepowerofcharmingthisblackbroodingfromhismind.
ShewasthegoldenthreadthatunitedhimtoaPastbeyondhismisery,andtoaPresentbeyondhismisery:andthesoundofhervoice,thelightofherface,thetouchofherhand,hadastrongbeneficialinfluencewithhimalmostalways.
Notabsolutelyalways,forshecouldrecallsomeoccasionsonwhichherpowerhadfailed;buttheywerefewandslight,andshebelievedthemover.
Mr.Darnayhadkissedherhandferventlyandgratefully,andhadturnedtoMr.Stryver,whomhewarmlythanked.
Mr.Stryver,amanoflittlemorethanthirty,butlookingtwentyyearsolderthanhewas,stout,loud,red,bluff,andfreefromanydrawbackofdelicacy,hadapushingwayofshoulderinghimself(morallyandphysically)intocompaniesandconversations,thatarguedwellforhisshoulderinghiswayupinlife.
Hestillhadhiswigandgownon,andhesaid,squaringhimselfathislateclienttothatdegreethathesqueezedtheinnocentMr.Lorrycleanoutofthegroup:“Iamgladtohavebroughtyouoffwithhonour,Mr.Darnay.
Itwasaninfamousprosecution,grosslyinfamous;butnotthelesslikelytosucceedonthataccount.”
“Youhavelaidmeunderanobligationtoyouforlife—intwosenses,”saidhislateclient,takinghishand.
“Ihavedonemybestforyou,Mr.Darnay;andmybestisasgoodasanotherman’s,Ibelieve.”
Itclearlybeingincumbentonsomeonetosay,“Muchbetter,”Mr.Lorrysaidit;perhapsnotquitedisinterestedly,butwiththeinterestedobjectofsqueezinghimselfbackagain.
“Youthinkso?”saidMr.Stryver.“Well!youhavebeenpresentallday,andyououghttoknow.Youareamanofbusiness,too.”
“Andassuch,”quothMr.Lorry,whomthecounsellearnedinthelawhadnowshoulderedbackintothegroup,justashehadpreviouslyshoulderedhimoutofit—”assuchIwillappealtoDoctorManette,tobreakupthisconferenceandorderusalltoourhomes.
MissLucielooksill,Mr.Darnayhashadaterribleday,wearewornout.”
“Speakforyourself,Mr.Lorry,”saidStryver;“Ihaveanight’sworktodoyet.Speakforyourself.”
“Ispeakformyself,”answeredMr.Lorry,“andforMr.Darnay,andforMissLucie,and—MissLucie,doyounotthinkImayspeakforusall?”
Heaskedherthequestionpointedly,andwithaglanceatherfather.
Hisfacehadbecomefrozen,asitwere,inaverycuriouslookatDarnay:anintentlook,deepeningintoafrownofdislikeanddistrust,notevenunmixedwithfear.
Withthisstrangeexpressiononhimhisthoughtshadwanderedaway.
“Myfather,”saidLucie,softlylayingherhandonhis.
Heslowlyshooktheshadowoff,andturnedtoher.
“Shallwegohome,myfather?”
Withalongbreath,heanswered“Yes.”
Thefriendsoftheacquittedprisonerhaddispersed,undertheimpression—whichhehimselfhadoriginated—thathewouldnotbereleasedthatnight.
Thelightswerenearlyallextinguishedinthepassages,theirongateswerebeingclosedwithajarandarattle,andthedismalplacewasdeserteduntilto-morrowmorning’sinterestofgallows,pillory,whipping-post,andbranding-iron,shouldrepeopleit.
WalkingbetweenherfatherandMr.Darnay,LucieManettepassedintotheopenair.
Ahackney-coachwascalled,andthefatheranddaughterdepartedinit.
Mr.Stryverhadlefttheminthepassages,toshoulderhiswaybacktotherobing-room.
Anotherperson,whohadnotjoinedthegroup,orinterchangedawordwithanyoneofthem,butwhohadbeenleaningagainstthewallwhereitsshadowwasdarkest,hadsilentlystrolledoutaftertherest,andhadlookedonuntilthecoachdroveaway.
HenowsteppeduptowhereMr.LorryandMr.Darnaystooduponthepavement.
“So,Mr.Lorry!MenofbusinessmayspeaktoMr.Darnaynow?”
NobodyhadmadeanyacknowledgmentofMr.Carton’spartintheday’sproceedings;nobodyhadknownofit.Hewasunrobed,andwasnonethebetterforitinappearance.
“Ifyouknewwhataconflictgoesoninthebusinessmind,whenthebusinessmindisdividedbetweengood-naturedimpulseandbusinessappearances,youwouldbeamused,Mr.Darnay.”
Mr.Lorryreddened,andsaid,warmly,“Youhavementionedthatbefore,sir.Wemenofbusiness,whoserveaHouse,arenotourownmasters.WehavetothinkoftheHousemorethanourselves.”
“Iknow,Iknow,”rejoinedMr.Carton,carelessly.“Don’tbenettled,Mr.Lorry.Youareasgoodasanother,Ihavenodoubt:better,Idaresay.”
“Andindeed,sir,”pursuedMr.Lorry,notmindinghim,“Ireallydon’tknowwhatyouhavetodowiththematter.
Ifyou’llexcuseme,asverymuchyourelder,forsayingso,Ireallydon’tknowthatitisyourbusiness.”
“Business!Blessyou,Ihavenobusiness,”saidMr.Carton.
“Itisapityyouhavenot,sir.”
“Ithinkso,too.”
“Ifyouhad,”pursuedMr.Lorry,“perhapsyouwouldattendtoit.”
“Lordloveyou,no!—Ishouldn’t,”saidMr.Carton.
“Well,sir!”criedMr.Lorry,thoroughlyheatedbyhisindifference,“businessisaverygoodthing,andaveryrespectablething.
And,sir,ifbusinessimposesitsrestraintsanditssilencesandimpediments,Mr.Darnayasayounggentlemanofgenerosityknowshowtomakeallowanceforthatcircumstance.
Mr.Darnay,goodnight,Godblessyou,sir!
Ihopeyouhavebeenthisdaypreservedforaprosperousandhappylife.—Chairthere!”
Perhapsalittleangrywithhimself,aswellaswiththebarrister,Mr.Lorrybustledintothechair,andwascarriedofftoTellson’s.
Carton,whosmeltofportwine,anddidnotappeartobequitesober,laughedthen,andturnedtoDarnay:
“Thisisastrangechancethatthrowsyouandmetogether.Thismustbeastrangenighttoyou,standingaloneherewithyourcounterpartonthesestreetstones?”
“Ihardlyseemyet,”returnedCharlesDarnay,“tobelongtothisworldagain.”
“Idon’twonderatit;it’snotsolongsinceyouwereprettyfaradvancedonyourwaytoanother.Youspeakfaintly.”
“IbegintothinkIAMfaint.”
“Thenwhythedevildon’tyoudine?Idined,myself,whilethosenumskullsweredeliberatingwhichworldyoushouldbelongto—this,orsomeother.Letmeshowyouthenearesttaverntodinewellat.”
Drawinghisarmthroughhisown,hetookhimdownLudgate-hilltoFleet-street,andso,upacoveredway,intoatavern.
Here,theywereshownintoalittleroom,whereCharlesDarnaywassoonrecruitinghisstrengthwithagoodplaindinnerandgoodwine:whileCartonsatoppositetohimatthesametable,withhisseparatebottleofportbeforehim,andhisfullyhalf-insolentmanneruponhim.
“Doyoufeel,yet,thatyoubelongtothisterrestrialschemeagain,Mr.Darnay?”
“Iamfrightfullyconfusedregardingtimeandplace;butIamsofarmendedastofeelthat.”
“Itmustbeanimmensesatisfaction!”
Hesaiditbitterly,andfilleduphisglassagain:whichwasalargeone.
“Astome,thegreatestdesireIhave,istoforgetthatIbelongtoit.
Ithasnogoodinitforme—exceptwinelikethis—norIforit.
Sowearenotmuchalikeinthatparticular.
Indeed,Ibegintothinkwearenotmuchalikeinanyparticular,youandI.”
Confusedbytheemotionoftheday,andfeelinghisbeingtherewiththisDoubleofcoarsedeportment,tobelikeadream,CharlesDarnaywasatalosshowtoanswer;finally,answerednotatall.
“Nowyourdinnerisdone,”Cartonpresentlysaid,“whydon’tyoucallahealth,Mr.Darnay;whydon’tyougiveyourtoast?”
“Whathealth?Whattoast?”
“Why,it’sonthetipofyourtongue.Itoughttobe,itmustbe,I’llswearit’sthere.”
“MissManette,then!”
“MissManette,then!”
Lookinghiscompanionfullinthefacewhilehedrankthetoast,Cartonflunghisglassoverhisshoulderagainstthewall,whereitshiveredtopieces;then,rangthebell,andorderedinanother.
“That’safairyoungladytohandtoacoachinthedark,Mr.Darnay!”hesaid,ruinghisnewgoblet.
Aslightfrownandalaconic“Yes,”weretheanswer.
“That’safairyoungladytobepitiedbyandweptforby!Howdoesitfeel?Isitworthbeingtriedforone’slife,tobetheobjectofsuchsympathyandcompassion,Mr.Darnay?”
AgainDarnayanswerednotaword.
“Shewasmightilypleasedtohaveyourmessage,whenIgaveither.Notthatsheshowedshewaspleased,butIsupposeshewas.”
TheallusionservedasatimelyremindertoDarnaythatthisdisagreeablecompanionhad,ofhisownfreewill,assistedhiminthestraitoftheday.
Heturnedthedialoguetothatpoint,andthankedhimforit.
“Ineitherwantanythanks,normeritany,”wasthecarelessrejoinder.“Itwasnothingtodo,inthefirstplace;andIdon’tknowwhyIdidit,inthesecond.Mr.Darnay,letmeaskyouaquestion.”
“Willingly,andasmallreturnforyourgoodoffices.”
“DoyouthinkIparticularlylikeyou?”
“Really,Mr.Carton,”returnedtheother,oddlydisconcerted,“Ihavenotaskedmyselfthequestion.”
“Butaskyourselfthequestionnow.”
“Youhaveactedasifyoudo;butIdon’tthinkyoudo.”
“Idon’tthinkIdo,”saidCarton.“Ibegintohaveaverygoodopinionofyourunderstanding.”
“Nevertheless,”pursuedDarnay,risingtoringthebell,“thereisnothinginthat,Ihope,topreventmycallingthereckoning,andourpartingwithoutill-bloodoneitherside.”
Cartonrejoining,“Nothinginlife!”Darnayrang.“Doyoucallthewholereckoning?”saidCarton.
Onhisansweringintheaffirmative,“Thenbringmeanotherpintofthissamewine,drawer,andcomeandwakemeatten.”
Thebillbeingpaid,CharlesDarnayroseandwishedhimgoodnight.
Withoutreturningthewish,Cartonrosetoo,withsomethingofathreatofdefianceinhismanner,andsaid,“Alastword,Mr.Darnay:youthinkIamdrunk?”
“Ithinkyouhavebeendrinking,Mr.Carton.”
“Think?YouknowIhavebeendrinking.”
“SinceImustsayso,Iknowit.”
“Thenyoushalllikewiseknowwhy.Iamadisappointeddrudge,sir.Icarefornomanonearth,andnomanonearthcaresforme.”
“Muchtoberegretted.Youmighthaveusedyourtalentsbetter.”
“Maybeso,Mr.Darnay;maybenot.Don’tletyoursoberfaceelateyou,however;youdon’tknowwhatitmaycometo.Goodnight!”
Whenhewasleftalone,thisstrangebeingtookupacandle,wenttoaglassthathungagainstthewall,andsurveyedhimselfminutelyinit.
“Doyouparticularlyliketheman?”hemuttered,athisownimage;“whyshouldyouparticularlylikeamanwhoresemblesyou?
Thereisnothinginyoutolike;youknowthat.Ah,confoundyou!
Whatachangeyouhavemadeinyourself!
Agoodreasonfortakingtoaman,thatheshowsyouwhatyouhavefallenawayfrom,andwhatyoumighthavebeen!
Changeplaceswithhim,andwouldyouhavebeenlookedatbythoseblueeyesashewas,andcommiseratedbythatagitatedfaceashewas?
Comeon,andhaveitoutinplainwords!Youhatethefellow.”
Heresortedtohispintofwineforconsolation,drankitallinafewminutes,andfellasleeponhisarms,withhishairstragglingoverthetable,andalongwinding-sheetinthecandledrippingdownuponhim.
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