English
Tellson’sBank,establishedintheSaintGermainQuarterofParis,wasinawingofalargehouse,approachedbyacourtyardandshutofffromthestreetbyahighwallandastronggate.
Thehousebelongedtoagreatnoblemanwhohadlivedinituntilhemadeaflightfromthetroubles,inhisowncook’sdress,andgotacrosstheborders.
Amerebeastofthechaseflyingfromhunters,hewasstillinhismetempsychosisnootherthanthesameMonseigneur,thepreparationofwhosechocolateforwhoselipshadonceoccupiedthreestrongmenbesidesthecookinquestion.
Monseigneurgone,andthethreestrongmenabsolvingthemselvesfromthesinofhavingdrawnhishighwages,bybeingmorethanreadyandwillingtocuthisthroatonthealtarofthedawningRepubliconeandindivisibleofLiberty,Equality,Fraternity,orDeath,Monseigneur’shousehadbeenfirstsequestrated,andthenconfiscated.
For,allthingsmovedsofast,anddecreefolloweddecreewiththatfierceprecipitation,thatnowuponthethirdnightoftheautumnmonthofSeptember,patriotemissariesofthelawwereinpossessionofMonseigneur’shouse,andhadmarkeditwiththetri-colour,andweredrinkingbrandyinitsstateapartments.
AplaceofbusinessinLondonlikeTellson’splaceofbusinessinParis,wouldsoonhavedriventheHouseoutofitsmindandintotheGazette.
For,whatwouldstaidBritishresponsibilityandrespectabilityhavesaidtoorange-treesinboxesinaBankcourtyard,andeventoaCupidoverthecounter?Yetsuchthingswere.
Tellson’shadwhitewashedtheCupid,buthewasstilltobeseenontheceiling,inthecoolestlinen,aiming(asheveryoftendoes)atmoneyfrommorningtonight.
BankruptcymustinevitablyhavecomeofthisyoungPagan,inLombard-street,London,andalsoofacurtainedalcoveintherearoftheimmortalboy,andalsoofalooking-glassletintothewall,andalsoofclerksnotatallold,whodancedinpublicontheslightestprovocation.
Yet,aFrenchTellson’scouldgetonwiththesethingsexceedinglywell,and,aslongasthetimesheldtogether,nomanhadtakenfrightatthem,anddrawnouthismoney.
WhatmoneywouldbedrawnoutofTellson’shenceforth,andwhatwouldliethere,lostandforgotten;whatplateandjewelswouldtarnishinTellson’shiding-places,whilethedepositorsrustedinprisons,andwhentheyshouldhaveviolentlyperished;howmanyaccountswithTellson’snevertobebalancedinthisworld,mustbecarriedoverintothenext;nomancouldhavesaid,thatnight,anymorethanMr.JarvisLorrycould,thoughhethoughtheavilyofthesequestions.
Hesatbyanewly-lightedwoodfire(theblightedandunfruitfulyearwasprematurelycold),andonhishonestandcourageousfacetherewasadeepershadethanthependentlampcouldthrow,oranyobjectintheroomdistortedlyreflect—ashadeofhorror.
HeoccupiedroomsintheBank,inhisfidelitytotheHouseofwhichhehadgrowntobeapart,liestrongroot-ivy.
itchancedthattheyderivedakindofsecurityfromthepatrioticoccupationofthemainbuilding,butthetrue-heartedoldgentlemannevercalculatedaboutthat.
Allsuchcircumstanceswereindifferenttohim,sothathedidhisduty.
Ontheoppositesideofthecourtyard,underacolonnade,wasextensivestandin—forcarriages—where,indeed,somecarriagesofMonseigneuryetstood.
Againsttwoofthepillarswerefastenedtwogreatflaringflambeaux,andinthelightofthese,standingoutintheopenair,wasalargegrindstone:aroughlymountedthingwhichappearedtohavehurriedlybeenbroughttherefromsomeneighbouringsmithy,orotherworkshop.
Risingandlookingoutofwindowattheseharmlessobjects,Mr.Lorryshivered,andretiredtohisseatbythefire.
Hehadopened,notonlytheglasswindow,butthelatticeblindoutsideit,andhehadclosedbothagain,andheshiveredthroughhisframe.
Fromthestreetsbeyondthehighwallandthestronggate,therecametheusualnighthumofthecity,withnowandthenanindescribableringinit,weirdandunearthly,asifsomeunwontedsoundsofaterriblenatureweregoinguptoHeaven.
“ThankGod,”saidMr.Lorry,claspinghishands,“thatnoonenearanddeartomeisinthisdreadfultownto-night.MayHehavemercyonallwhoareindanger!”
Soonafterwards,thebellatthegreatgatesounded,andhethought,“Theyhavecomeback!”andsatlistening.
But,therewasnoloudirruptionintothecourtyard,ashehadexpected,andheheardthegateclashagain,andallwasquiet.
ThenervousnessanddreadthatwereuponhiminspiredthatvagueuneasinessrespectingtheBank,whichagreatchangewouldnaturallyawaken,withsuchfeelingsroused.
Itwaswellguarded,andhegotuptogoamongthetrustypeoplewhowerewatchingit,whenhisdoorsuddenlyopened,andtwofiguresrushedin,atsightofwhichhefellbackinamazement.
Lucieandherfather!Luciewithherarmsstretchedouttohim,andwiththatoldlookofearnestnesssoconcentratedandintensified,thatitseemedasthoughithadbeenstampeduponherfaceexpresslytogiveforceandpowertoitinthisonepassageofherlife.
“Whatisthis?”criedMr.Lorry,breathlessandconfused.“Whatisthematter?Lucie!Manette!Whathashappened?Whathasbroughtyouhere?Whatisit?”
Withthelookfixeduponhim,inherpalenessandwildness,shepantedoutinhisarms,imploringly,“Omydearfriend!Myhusband!”
“Yourhusband,Lucie?”
“Charles.”
“WhatofCharles?”
“Here.
“Here,inParis?”
“Hasbeenheresomedays—threeorfour—Idon’tknowhowmany—Ican’tcollectmythoughts.Anerrandofgenerositybroughthimhereunknowntous;hewasstoppedatthebarrier,andsenttoprison.”
Theoldmanutteredanirrepressiblecry.Almostatthesamemoment,thebegofthegreatgaterangagain,andaloudnoiseoffeetandvoicescamepouringintothecourtyard.
“Whatisthatnoise?”saidtheDoctor,turningtowardsthewindow.
“Don’tlook!”criedMr.Lorry.“Don’tlookout!Manette,foryourlife,don’ttouchtheblind!”
TheDoctorturned,withhishanduponthefasteningofthewindow,andsaid,withacool,boldsmile:
“Mydearfriend,Ihaveacharmedlifeinthiscity.IhavebeenaBastilleprisoner.ThereisnopatriotinParis—inParis?
InFrance—who,knowingmetohavebeenaprisonerintheBastille,wouldtouchme,excepttooverwhelmmewithembraces,orcarrymeintriumph.
Myoldpainhasgivenmeapowerthathasbroughtusthroughthebarrier,andgainedusnewsofCharlesthere,andbroughtushere.
Iknewitwouldbeso;IknewIcouldhelpCharlesoutofalldanger;ItoldLucieso.—Whatisthatnoise?”Hishandwasagainuponthewindow.
“Don’tlook!”criedMr.Lorry,absolutelydesperate.“No,Lucie,mydear,noryou!”Hegothisarmroundher,andheldher.“Don’tbesoterrified,mylove.
IsolemnlysweartoyouthatIknowofnoharmhavinghappenedtoCharles;thatIhadnosuspicionevenofhisbeinginthisfatalplace.Whatprisonishein?”
“LaForce!”
“LaForce!Lucie,mychild,ifeveryouwerebraveandserviceableinyourlife—andyouwerealwaysboth—youwillcomposeyourselfnow,todoexactlyasIbidyou;formoredependsuponitthanyoucanthink,orIcansay.
Thereisnohelpforyouinanyactiononyourpartto-night;youcannotpossiblystirout.
Isaythis,becausewhatImustbidyoutodoforCharles’ssake,isthehardestthingtodoofall.
Youmustinstantlybeobedient,still,andquiet.
Youmustletmeputyouinaroomatthebackhere.
Youmustleaveyourfatherandmealonefortwominutes,andasthereareLifeandDeathintheworldyoumustnotdelay.”
“Iwillbesubmissivetoyou.IseeinyourfacethatyouknowIcandonothingelsethanthis.Iknowyouaretrue.”
Theoldmankissedher,andhurriedherintohisroom,andturnedthekey;then,camehurryingbacktotheDoctor,andopenedthewindowandpartlyopenedtheblind,andputhishandupontheDoctor’sarm,andlookedoutwithhimintothecourtyard.
Lookedoutuponathrongofmenandwomen:notenoughinnumber,ornearenough,tofillthecourtyard:notmorethanfortyorfiftyinall.
Thepeopleinpossessionofthehousehadlettheminatthegate,andtheyhadrushedintoworkatthegrindstone;ithadevidentlybeensetuptherefortheirpurpose,asinaconvenientandretiredspot.
But,suchawfulworkers,andsuchawfulwork!
Thegrindstonehadadoublehandle,and,turningatitmadlyweretwomen,whosefaces,astheirlonghairRappedbackwhenthewhirlingsofthegrindstonebroughttheirfacesup,weremorehorribleandcruelthanthevisagesofthewildestsavagesintheirmostbarbarousdisguise.
Falseeyebrowsandfalsemoustacheswerestuckuponthem,andtheirhideouscountenanceswereallbloodyandsweaty,andallawrywithhowling,andallstaringandglaringwithbeastlyexcitementandwantofsleep.
Astheseruffiansturnedandturned,theirmattedlocksnowflungforwardovertheireyes,nowflungbackwardovertheirnecks,somewomenheldwinetotheirmouthsthattheymightdrink;andwhatwithdroppingblood,andwhatwithdroppingwine,andwhatwiththestreamofsparksstruckoutofthestone,alltheirwickedatmosphereseemedgoreandfire.
Theeyecouldnotdetectonecreatureinthegroupfreefromthesmearofblood.
Shoulderingoneanothertogetnextatthesharpening-stone,weremenstrippedtothewaist,withthestainallovertheirlimbsandbodies;meninallsortsofrags,withthestainuponthoserags;mendevilishlysetoffwithspoilsofwomen’slaceandsilkandribbon,withthestaindyeingthosetriflesthroughandthrough.
Hatchets,knives,bayonets,swords,allbroughttobesharpened,wereallredwithit.
Someofthehackedswordsweretiedtothewristsofthosewhocarriedthem,withstripsoflinenandfragmentsofdress:ligaturesvariousinkind,butalldeepoftheonecolour.
Andasthefranticwieldersoftheseweaponssnatchedthemfromthestreamofsparksandtoreawayintothestreets,thesameredhuewasredintheirfrenziedeyes;—eyeswhichanyunbrutalisedbeholderwouldhavegiventwentyyearsoflife,topetrifywithawell-directedgun.
Allthiswasseeninamoment,asthevisionofadrowningman,orofanyhumancreatureatanyverygreatpass,couldseeaworldifitwerethere.
Theydrewbackfromthewindow,andtheDoctorlookedforexplanationinhisfriend’sashyface.
“Theyare,”Mr.Lorrywhisperedthewords,glancingfearfullyroundatthelockedroom,“murderingtheprisoners.
Ifyouaresureofwhatyousay;ifyoureallyhavethepoweryouthinkyouhave—asIbelieveyouhave—makeyourselfknowntothesedevils,andgettakentoLaForce.
Itmaybetoolate,Idon’tknow,butletitnotbeaminutelater!”
DoctorManettepressedhishand,hastenedbareheadedoutoftheroom,andwasinthecourtyardwhenMr.Lorryregainedtheblind.
Hisstreamingwhitehair,hisremarkableface,andtheimpetuousconfidenceofhismanner,asheputtheweaponsasidelikewater,carriedhiminaninstanttotheheartoftheconcourseatthestone.
Forafewmomentstherewasapause,andahurry,andamurmur,andtheunintelligiblesoundofhisvoice;andthenMr.Lorrysawhim,surroundedbyall,andinthemidstofalineoftwentymenlong,alllinkedshouldertoshoulder,andhandtoshoulder,hurriedoutwithcriesof—”LivetheBastilleprisoner!
HelpfortheBastilleprisoner’skindredinLaForce!
RoomfortheBastilleprisonerinfrontthere!
SavetheprisonerEvremondeatLaForce!”andathousandansweringshouts.
Heclosedthelatticeagainwithaflutteringheart,closedthewindowandthecurtain,hastenedtoLucie,andtoldherthatherfatherwasassistedbythepeople,andgoneinsearchofherhusband.
HefoundherchildandMissProsswithher;but,itneveroccurredtohimtobesurprisedbytheirappearanceuntilalongtimeafterwards,whenhesatwatchingtheminsuchquietasthenightknew.
Luciehad,bythattime,fallenintoastuporonthefloorathisfeet,clingingtohishand.
MissProsshadlaidthechilddownonhisownbed,andherheadhadgraduallyfallenonthepillowbesideherprettycharge.
Othelong,longnight,withthemoansofthepoorwife!
AndOthelong,longnight,withnoreturnofherfatherandnotidings!
Twicemoreinthedarknessthebellatthegreatgatesounded,andtheirruptionwasrepeated,andthegrindstonewhirledandspluttered.“Whatisit?”criedLucie,affrighted.“Hush!
Thesoldiers’swordsaresharpenedthere,”saidMr.Lorry.
“Theplaceisnationalpropertynow,andusedasakindofarmoury,mylove.”
Twicemoreinall;but,thelastspellofworkwasfeebleandfitful.
Soonafterwardsthedaybegantodawn,andhesoftlydetachedhimselffromtheclaspinghand,andcautiouslylookedoutagain.
Aman,sobesmearedthathemighthavebeenasorelywoundedsoldiercreepingbacktoconsciousnessonafieldofslain,wasrisingfromthepavementbythesideofthegrindstone,andlookingabouthimwithavacantair.
Shortly,thisworn-outmurdererdescriedintheimperfectlightoneofthecarriagesofMonseigneur,and,staggeringtothatgorgeousvehicle,climbedinatthedoor,andshuthimselfuptotakehisrestonitsdaintycushions.
Thegreatgrindstone,Earth,hadturnedwhenMr.Lorrylookedoutagain,andthesunwasredonthecourtyard.
But,thelessergrindstonestoodalonethereinthecalmmorningair,withareduponitthatthesunhadnevergiven,andwouldnevertakeaway.
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