English
Happilyunconsciousofthenewcalamityathome,MissProssthreadedherwayalongthenarrowstreetsandcrossedtheriverbythebridgeofthePont-Neuf,reckoninginhermindthenumberofindispensablepurchasesshehadtomake.
Mr.Cruncher,withthebasket,walkedatherside.
Theybothlookedtotherightandtotheleftintomostoftheshopstheypassed,hadawaryeyeforallgregariousassemblagesofpeople,andturnedoutoftheirroadtoavoidanyveryexcitedgroupoftalkers.
Itwasarawevening,andthemistyriver,blurredtotheeyewithblazinglightsandtotheearwithharshnoises,showedwherethebargeswerestationedinwhichthesmithsworked,makinggunsfortheArmyoftheRepublic.
WoetothemanwhoplayedtrickswithTHATArmy,orgotundeservedpromotioninit!
Betterforhimthathisbeardhadnevergrown,fortheNationalRazorshavedhimclose.
Havingpurchasedafewsmallarticlesofgrocery,andameasureofoilforthelamp,MissProssbethoughtherselfofthewinetheywanted.
Afterpeepingintoseveralwine-shops,shestoppedatthesignoftheGoodRepublicanBrutusofAntiquity,notfarfromtheNationalPalace,once(andtwice)theTuileries,wheretheaspectofthingsrathertookherfancy.
Ithadaquieterlookthananyotherplaceofthesamedescriptiontheyhadpassed,and,thoughredwithpatrioticcaps,wasnotsoredastherest.
SoundingMr.Cruncher,andfindinghimofheropinion,MissProssresortedtotheGoodRepublicanBrutusofAntiquity,attendedbyhercavalier.
Slightlyobservantofthesmokylights;ofthepeople,pipeinmouth,playingwithlimpcardsandyellowdominoes;oftheonebare-breasted,bare-armed,soot-begrimedworkmanreadingajournalaloud,andoftheotherslisteningtohim;oftheweaponsworn,orlaidasidetoberesumed;ofthetwoorthreecustomersfallenforwardasleep,whointhepopularhigh-shoulderedshaggyblackspencerlooked,inthatattitude,likeslumberingbearsordogs;thetwooutlandishcustomersapproachedthecounter,andshowedwhattheywanted.
Astheirwinewasmeasuringout,amanpartedfromanothermaninacorner,androsetodepart.Ingoing,hehadtofaceMissPross.
Nosoonerdidhefaceher,thanMissProssutteredascream,andclappedherhands.
Inamoment,thewholecompanywereontheirfeet.
Thatsomebodywasassassinatedbysomebodyvindicatingadifferenceofopinionwasthelikeliestoccurrence.
Everybodylookedtoseesomebodyfall,butonlysawamanandawomanstandingstaringateachother;themanwithalltheoutwardaspectofaFrenchmanandathoroughRepublican;thewoman,evidentlyEnglish.
Whatwassaidinthisdisappointinganti-climax,bythedisciplesoftheGoodRepublicanBrutusofAntiquity,exceptthatitwassomethingveryvolubleandloud,wouldhavebeenassomuchHebreworChaldeantoMissProssandherprotector,thoughtheyhadbeenallears.
But,theybadnoearsforanythingintheirsurprise.
For,itmustberecorded,thatnotonlywasMissProsslostinamazementandagitation,but,Mr.Cruncher—thoughitseemedonhisownseparateandindividualaccount—wasinastateofthegreatestwonder.
“Whatisthematter?”saidthemanwhohadcausedMissProsstoscream;speakinginavexed,abruptvoice(thoughinalowtone),andinEnglish.
“Oh,Solomon,dearSolomon!”criedMissPross,clappingherhandsagain.“Afternotsettingeyesuponyouorhearingofyouforsolongatime,doIfindyouhere!”
“Don’tcallmeSolomon.Doyouwanttobethedeathofme?”askedtheman,inafurtive,frightenedway.
“Brother,brother!”criedMissPross,burstingintotears.“HaveIeverbeensohardwithyouthatyouaskmesuchacruelquestion?”
“Thenholdyourmeddlesometongue,”saidSolomon,“andcomeout,ifyouwanttospeaktome.Payforyourwine,andcomeout.Who’sthisman?”
MissPross,shakingherlovinganddejectedheadatherbynomeansaffectionatebrother,saidthroughhertears,“Mr.Cruncher.”
“Lethimcomeouttoo,”saidSolomon.“Doeshethinkmeaghost?”
Apparently,Mr.Cruncherdid,tojudgefromhislooks.
Hesaidnotaword,however,andMissPross,exploringthedepthsofherreticulethroughhertearswithgreatdifficultypaidforherwine.
Asshedidso,SolomonturnedtothefollowersoftheGoodRepublicanBrutusofAntiquity,andofferedafewwordsofexplanationintheFrenchlanguage,whichcausedthemalltorelapseintotheirformerplacesandpursuits.
“Now,”saidSolomon,stoppingatthedarkstreetcorner,“whatdoyouwant?”
“Howdreadfullyunkindinabrothernothinghaseverturnedmyloveawayfrom!”criedMissPross,“togivemesuchagreeting,andshowmenoaffection.”
“There.Confoundit!There,”saidSolomon,makingadabatMissPross’slipswithhisown.“Nowareyoucontent?”
MissProssonlyshookherheadandweptinsilence.
“Ifyouexpectmetobesurprised,”saidherbrotherSolomon,“Iamnotsurprised;Iknewyouwerehere;Iknowofmostpeoplewhoarehere.
Ifyoureallydon’twanttoendangermyexistence—whichIhalfbelieveyoudo—goyourwaysassoonaspossible,andletmegomine.Iambusy.Iamanofficial.”
“MyEnglishbrotherSolomon,”mournedMissPross,castinguphertear-fraughteyes,“thathadthemakingsinhimofoneofthebestandgreatestofmeninhisnativecountry,anofficialamongforeigners,andsuchforeigners!
Iwouldalmostsoonerhaveseenthedearboylyinginhis—”
“Isaidso!”criedherbrother,interrupting.“Iknewit.Youwanttobethedeathofme.IshallberenderedSuspected,bymyownsister.JustasIamgettingon!”
“ThegraciousandmercifulHeavensforbid!”criedMissPross.
“FarratherwouldIneverseeyouagain,dearSolomon,thoughIhaveeverlovedyoutruly,andevershall.
Saybutoneaffectionatewordtome,andtellmethereisnothingangryorestrangedbetweenus,andIwilldetainyounolonger.”
GoodMissPross!Asiftheestrangementbetweenthemhadcomeofanyculpabilityofhers.
AsifMr.Lorryhadnotknownitforafact,yearsago,inthequietcornerinSoho,thatthispreciousbrotherhadspenthermoneyandlefther!
Hewassayingtheaffectionateword,however,withafarmoregrudgingcondescensionandpatronagethanhecouldhaveshowniftheirrelativemeritsandpositionshadbeenreversed(whichisinvariablythecase,alltheworldover),whenMr.Cruncher,touchinghimontheshoulder,hoarselyandunexpectedlyinterposedwiththefollowingsingularquestion:
“Isay!MightIaskthefavour?AstowhetheryournameisJohnSolomon,orSolomonJohn?”
Theofficialturnedtowardshimwithsuddendistrust.Hehadnotpreviouslyutteredaword.
“Come!”saidMr.Cruncher.“Speakout,youknow.”
(Which,bytheway,wasmorethanhecoulddohimself.)“JohnSolomon,orSolomonJohn?
ShecallsyouSolomon,andshemustknow,beingyoursister.AndIknowyou’reJohn,youknow.Whichofthetwogoesfirst?
AndregardingthatnameofPross,likewise.Thatwarn’tyournameoverthewater.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Well,Idon’tknowallImean,forIcan’tcalltomindwhatyournamewas,overthewater.”
“No?”
“No.ButI’llswearitwasanameoftwosyllables.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes.T’otherone’swasonesyllable.Iknowyou.Youwasaspy—witnessattheBailey.What,inthenameoftheFatherofLies,ownfathertoyourself,wasyoucalledatthattime?”
“Barsad,”saidanothervoice,strikingin.
“That’sthenameforathousandpound!”criedJerry.
Thespeakerwhostruckin,wasSydneyCarton.
Hehadhishandsbehindhimundertheskirtsofhisriding-coat,andhestoodatMr.Cruncher’selbowasnegligentlyashemighthavestoodattheOldBaileyitself.
“Don’tbealarmed,mydearMissPross.IarrivedatMr.Lorry’s,tohissurprise,yesterdayevening;weagreedthatIwouldnotpresentmyselfelsewhereuntilallwaswell,orunlessIcouldbeuseful;Ipresentmyselfhere,tobegalittletalkwithyourbrother.
IwishyouhadabetteremployedbrotherthanMr.Barsad.
IwishforyoursakeMr.BarsadwasnotaSheepofthePrisons.”
Sheepwasacantwordofthetimeforaspy,underthegaolers.Thespy,whowaspale,turnedpaler,andaskedhimhowhedared—
“I’lltellyou,”saidSydney.“Ilightedonyou,Mr.Barsad,comingoutoftheprisonoftheConciergeriewhileIwascontemplatingthewalls,anhourormoreago.
Youhaveafacetoberemembered,andIrememberfaceswell.
Madecuriousbyseeingyouinthatconnection,andhavingareason,towhichyouarenostranger,forassociatingyouwiththemisfortunesofafriendnowveryunfortunate,Iwalkedinyourdirection.
Iwalkedintothewine-shophere,closeafteryou,andsatnearyou.
Ihadnodifficultyindeducingfromyourunreservedconversation,andtherumouropenlygoingaboutamongyouradmirers,thenatureofyourcalling.
Andgradually,whatIhaddoneatrandom,seemedtoshapeitselfintoapurpose,Mr.Barsad.”
“Whatpurpose?”thespyasked.
“Itwouldbetroublesome,andmightbedangerous,toexplaininthestreet.Couldyoufavourme,inconfidence,withsomeminutesofyourcompany—attheofficeofTellson’sBank,forinstance?”
“Underathreat?”
“Oh!DidIsaythat?”
“Then,whyshouldIgothere?”
“Really,Mr.Barsad,Ican’tsay,ifyoucan’t.”
“Doyoumeanthatyouwon’tsay,sir?”thespyirresolutelyasked.
“Youapprehendmeveryclearly,Mr.Barsad.Iwon’t.”
Carton’snegligentrecklessnessofmannercamepowerfullyinaidofhisquicknessandskill,insuchabusinessasbehadinhissecretmind,andwithsuchamanashehadtodowith.
Hispractisedeyesawit,andmadethemostofit.
“Now,Itoldyouso,”saidthespy,castingareproachfullookathissister;“ifanytroublecomesofthis,it’syourdoing.”
“Come,come,Mr.Barsad!”exclaimedSydney.“Don’tbeungrateful.
Butformygreatrespectforyoursister,ImightnothaveledupsopleasantlytoalittleproposalthatIwishtomakeforourmutualsatisfaction.DoyougowithmetotheBank?”
“I’llhearwhatyouhavegottosay.Yes,I’llgowithyou.”
“Iproposethatwefirstconductyoursistersafelytothecornerofherownstreet.Letmetakeyourarm,MissPross.
Thisisnotagoodcity,atthistime,foryoutobeoutin,unprotected;andasyourescortknowsMr.Barsad,IwillinvitehimtoMr.Lorry’swithus.Areweready?Comethen!”
MissProssrecalledsoonafterwards,andtotheendofherliferemembered,thatasshepressedherhandsonSydney’sarmandlookedupinhisface,imploringhimtodonohurttoSolomon,therewasabracedpurposeinthearmandakindofinspirationintheeyes,whichnotonlycontradictedhislightmanner,butchangedandraisedtheman.
Shewastoomuchoccupiedthenwithfearsforthebrotherwhosolittledeservedheraffection,andwithSydney’sfriendlyreassurances,adequatelytoheedwhatsheobserved.
Theyleftheratthecornerofthestreet,andCartonledthewaytoMr.Lorry’s,whichwaswithinafewminutes’walk.JohnBarsad,orSolomonPross,walkedathisside.
Mr.Lorryhadjustfinishedhisdinner,andwassittingbeforeacheerylittlelogortwooffire—perhapslookingintotheirblazeforthepictureofthatyoungerelderlygentlemanfromTellson’s,whohadlookedintotheredcoalsattheRoyalGeorgeatDover,nowagoodmanyyearsago.
Heturnedhisheadastheyentered,andshowedthesurprisewithwhichhesawastranger.
“MissPross’sbrother,sir,”saidSydney.“Mr.Barsad.”
“Barsad?”repeatedtheoldgentleman,“Barsad?Ihaveanassociationwiththename—andwiththeface.”
“Itoldyouyouhadaremarkableface,Mr.Barsad,”observedCarton,coolly.“Praysitdown.”
Ashetookachairhimself,hesuppliedthelinkthatMr.Lorrywanted,bysayingtohimwithafrown,“Witnessatthattrial.”
Mr.Lorryimmediatelyremembered,andregardedhisnewvisitorwithanundisguisedlookofabhorrence.
“Mr.BarsadhasbeenrecognisedbyMissProssastheaffectionatebrotheryouhaveheardof,”saidSydney,“andhasacknowledgedtherelationship.Ipasstoworsenews.Darnayhasbeenarrestedagain.”
Struckwithconsternation,theoldgentlemanexclaimed,“Whatdoyoutellme!Ilefthimsafeandfreewithinthesetwohours,andamabouttoreturntohim!”
“Arrestedforallthat.Whenwasitdone,Mr.Barsad?”
“Justnow,ifatall.”
“Mr.Barsadisthebestauthoritypossible,sir,”saidSydney,“andIhaveitfromMr.Barsad’scommunicationtoafriendandbrotherSheepoverabottleofwine,thatthearresthastakenplace.
Heleftthemessengersatthegate,andsawthemadmittedbytheporter.
Thereisnoearthlydoubtthatheisretaken.”
Mr.Lorry’sbusinesseyereadinthespeaker’sfacethatitwaslossoftimetodwelluponthepoint.
Confused,butsensiblethatsomethingmightdependonhispresenceofmind,hecommandedhimself,andwassilentlyattentive.
“Now,Itrust,”saidSydneytohim,“thatthenameandinfluenceofDoctorManettemaystandhiminasgoodsteadto-morrow—yousaidhewouldbebeforetheTribunalagainto-morrow,Mr.Barsad?—”
“Yes;Ibelieveso.”
”—Inasgoodsteadto-morrowasto-day.Butitmaynotbeso.Iowntoyou,Iamshaken,Mr.Lorry,byDoctorManette’snothavinghadthepowertopreventthisarrest.”
“Hemaynothaveknownofitbeforehand,”saidMr.Lorry.
“Butthatverycircumstancewouldbealarming,whenwerememberhowidentifiedheiswithhisson-in-law.”
“That’strue,”Mr.Lorryacknowledged,withhistroubledhandathischin,andhistroubledeyesonCarton.
“Inshort,”saidSydney,“thisisadesperatetime,whendesperategamesareplayedfordesperatestakes.
LettheDoctorplaythewinninggame;Iwillplaythelosingone.Noman’slifehereisworthpurchase.
Anyonecarriedhomebythepeopleto-day,maybecondemnedtomorrow.
Now,thestakeIhaveresolvedtoplayfor,incaseoftheworst,isafriendintheConciergerie.
AndthefriendIpurposetomyselftowin,isMr.Barsad.”
“Youneedhavegoodcards,sir,”saidthespy.
“I’llrunthemover.I’llseewhatIhold,—Mr.Lorry,youknowwhatabruteIam;Iwishyou’dgivemealittlebrandy.”
Itwasputbeforehim,andhedrankoffaglassful—drankoffanotherglassful—pushedthebottlethoughtfullyaway.
“Mr.Barsad,”hewenton,inthetoneofonewhoreallywaslookingoverahandatcards:“Sheepoftheprisons,emissaryofRepublicancommittees,nowturnkey,nowprisoner,alwaysspyandsecretinformer,somuchthemorevaluablehereforbeingEnglishthatanEnglishmanislessopentosuspicionofsubornationinthosecharactersthanaFrenchman,representshimselftohisemployersunderafalsename.
That’saverygoodcard.
Mr.Barsad,nowintheemployoftherepublicanFrenchgovernment,wasformerlyintheemployofthearistocraticEnglishgovernment,theenemyofFranceandfreedom.That’sanexcellentcard.
Inferenceclearasdayinthisregionofsuspicion,thatMr.Barsad,stillinthepayofthearistocraticEnglishgovernment,isthespyofPitt,thetreacherousfoeoftheRepubliccrouchinginitsbosom,theEnglishtraitorandagentofallmischiefsomuchspokenofandsodifficulttofind.That’sacardnottobebeaten.Haveyoufollowedmyhand,Mr.Barsad?”
“Nottounderstandyourplay,”returnedthespy,somewhatuneasily.
“IplaymyAce,DenunciationofMr.BarsadtothenearestSectionCommittee.Lookoveryourhand,Mr.Barsad,andseewhatyouhave.Don’thurry.”
Hedrewthebottlenear,pouredoutanotherglassfulofbrandy,anddrankitoff.
Hesawthatthespywasfearfulofhisdrinkinghimselfintoafitstatefortheimmediatedenunciationofhim.
Seeingit,hepouredoutanddrankanotherglassful.
“Lookoveryourhandcarefully,Mr.Barsad.Taketime.”
Itwasapoorerhandthanhesuspected.Mr.BarsadsawlosingcardsinitthatSydneyCartonknewnothingof.
ThrownoutofhishonourableemploymentinEngland,throughtoomuchunsuccessfulhardswearingthere—notbecausehewasnotwantedthere;ourEnglishreasonsforvauntingoursuperioritytosecrecyandspiesareofverymoderndate—heknewthathehadcrossedtheChannel,andacceptedserviceinFrance:first,asatempterandaneavesdropperamonghisowncountrymenthere:gradually,asatempterandaneavesdropperamongthenatives.
HeknewthatundertheoverthrowngovernmenthehadbeenaspyuponSaintAntoineandDefarge’swine-shop;hadreceivedfromthewatchfulpolicesuchheadsofinformationconcerningDoctorManette’simprisonment,release,andhistory,asshouldservehimforanintroductiontofamiliarconversationwiththeDefarges;andtriedthemonMadameDefarge,andhadbrokendownwiththemsignally.
Healwaysrememberedwithfearandtrembling,thatthatterriblewomanhadknittedwhenhetalkedwithher,andhadlookedominouslyathimasherfingersmoved.
Hehadsinceseenher,intheSectionofSaintAntoine,overandoveragainproduceherknittedregisters,anddenouncepeoplewhoselivestheguillotinethensurelyswallowedup.
Heknew,aseveryoneemployedashewasdid,thathewasneversafe;thatflightwasimpossible;thathewastiedfastundertheshadowoftheaxe;andthatinspiteofhisutmosttergiversationandtreacheryinfurtheranceofthereigningterror,awordmightbringitdownuponhim.
Oncedenounced,andonsuchgravegroundsashadjustnowbeensuggestedtohismind,heforesawthatthedreadfulwomanofwhoseunrelentingcharacterhehadseenmanyproofs,wouldproduceagainsthimthatfatalregister,andwouldquashhislastchanceoflife.
Besidesthatallsecretmenaremensoonterrified,hereweresurelycardsenoughofoneblacksuit,tojustifytheholderingrowingratherlividasheturnedthemover.
“Youscarcelyseemtolikeyourhand,”saidSydney,withthegreatestcomposure.“Doyouplay?”
“Ithink,sir,”saidthespy,inthemeanestmanner,asheturnedtoMr.Lorry,“Imayappealtoagentlemanofyouryearsandbenevolence,toputittothisothergentleman,somuchyourjunior,whetherhecanunderanycircumstancesreconcileittohisstationtoplaythatAceofwhichhehasspoken.
IadmitthatIamaspy,andthatitisconsideredadiscreditablestation—thoughitmustbefilledbysomebody;butthisgentlemanisnospy,andwhyshouldhesodemeanhimselfastomakehimselfone?”
“IplaymyAce,Mr.Barsad,”saidCarton,takingtheansweronhimself,andlookingathiswatch,“withoutanyscruple,inaveryfewminutes.”
“Ishouldhavehoped,gentlemenboth,”saidthespy,alwaysstrivingtohookMr.Lorryintothediscussion,“thatyourrespectformysister—”
“Icouldnotbettertestifymyrespectforyoursisterthanbyfinallyrelievingherofherbrother,”saidSydneyCarton.
“Youthinknot,sir?”
“Ihavethoroughlymadeupmymindaboutit.”
Thesmoothmannerofthespy,curiouslyindissonancewithhisostentatiouslyroughdress,andprobablywithhisusualdemeanour,receivedsuchacheckfromtheinscrutabilityofCarton,—whowasamysterytowiserandhonestermenthanhe,—thatitfalteredhereandfailedhim.
Whilehewasataloss,Cartonsaid,resuminghisformerairofcontemplatingcards:
“Andindeed,nowIthinkagain,IhaveastrongimpressionthatIhaveanothergoodcardhere,notyetenumerated.
Thatfriendandfellow-Sheep,whospokeofhimselfaspasturinginthecountryprisons;whowashe?”
“French.Youdon’tknowhim,”saidthespy,quickly.
“French,eh?”repeatedCarton,musing,andnotappearingtonoticehimatall,thoughheechoedhisword.“Well;hemaybe.”
“Is,Iassureyou,”saidthespy;“thoughit’snotimportant.”
“Thoughit’snotimportant,”repeatedCarton,inthesamemechanicalway—”thoughit’snotimportant—No,it’snotimportant.No.YetIknowtheface.”
“Ithinknot.Iamsurenot.Itcan’tbe,”saidthespy.
“It-can’t-be,”mutteredSydneyCarton,retrospectively,andidlinghisglass(whichfortunatelywasasmallone)again.“Can’t-be.SpokegoodFrench.Yetlikeaforeigner,Ithought?”
“Provincial,”saidthespy.
“No.Foreign!”criedCarton,strikinghisopenhandonthetable,asalightbrokeclearlyonhismind.“Cly!Disguised,butthesameman.WehadthatmanbeforeusattheOldBailey.”
“Now,thereyouarehasty,sir,”saidBarsad,withasmilethatgavehisaquilinenoseanextrainclinationtooneside;“thereyoureallygivemeanadvantageoveryou.
Cly(whoIwillunreservedlyadmit,atthisdistanceoftime,wasapartnerofmine)hasbeendeadseveralyears.Iattendedhiminhislastillness.
HewasburiedinLondon,atthechurchofSaintPancras-in-the-Fields.
Hisunpopularitywiththeblackguardmultitudeatthemomentpreventedmyfollowinghisremains,butIhelpedtolayhiminhiscoffin.”
Here,Mr.Lorrybecameaware,fromwherehesat,ofamostremarkablegoblinshadowonthewall.
Tracingittoitssource,hediscoveredittobecausedbyasuddenextraordinaryrisingandstiffeningofalltherisenandstiffhaironMr.Cruncher’shead.
“Letusbereasonable,”saidthespy,“andletusbefair.
Toshowyouhowmistakenyouare,andwhatanunfoundedassumptionyoursis,IwilllaybeforeyouacertificateofCly’sburial,whichIhappenedtohavecarriedinmypocket-book,”withahurriedhandheproducedandopenedit,“eversince.Thereitis.Oh,lookatit,lookatit!
Youmaytakeitinyourhand;it’snoforgery.”
Here,Mr.Lorryperceivedthereflectiononthewalltoelongate,andMr.Cruncherroseandsteppedforward.
Hishaircouldnothavebeenmoreviolentlyonend,ifithadbeenthatmomentdressedbytheCowwiththecrumpledhorninthehousethatJackbuilt.
Unseenbythespy,Mr.Cruncherstoodathisside,andtouchedhimontheshoulderlikeaghostlybailiff.
“ThatthereRogerCly,master,”saidMr.Cruncher,withataciturnandiron-boundvisage.“SoYOUputhiminhiscoffin?”
“Idid.”
“Whotookhimoutofit?”
Barsadleanedbackinhischair,andstammered,“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Imean,”saidMr.Cruncher,“thathewarn’tneverinit.No!Nothe!I’llhavemyheadtookoff,ifhewaseverinit.”
Thespylookedroundatthetwogentlemen;theybothlookedinunspeakableastonishmentatJerry.
“Itellyou,”saidJerry,“thatyouburiedpaving-stonesandearthinthattherecoffin.Don’tgoandtellmethatyouburiedCly.Itwasatakein.Meandtwomoreknowsit.”
“Howdoyouknowit?”
“What’sthattoyou?Ecod!”
growledMr.Cruncher,“it’syouIhavegotaoldgrudgeagain,isit,withyourshamefulimpositionsupontradesmen!
I’dcatchholdofyourthroatandchokeyouforhalfaguinea.”
SydneyCarton,who,withMr.Lorry,hadbeenlostinamazementatthisturnofthebusiness,hererequestedMr.Crunchertomoderateandexplainhimself.
“Atanothertime,sir,”hereturned,evasively,“thepresenttimeisill-conwenientforexplainin’.
WhatIstandto,is,thatheknowswellwotthatthereClywasneverinthattherecoffin.
Lethimsayhewas,insomuchasawordofonesyllable,andI’lleithercatchholdofhisthroatandchokehimforhalfaguinea;”Mr.Cruncherdweltuponthisasquitealiberaloffer;“orI’lloutandannouncehim.”
“Humph!Iseeonething,”saidCarton.“Iholdanothercard,Mr.Barsad.
Impossible,hereinragingParis,withSuspicionfillingtheair,foryoutooutlivedenunciation,whenyouareincommunicationwithanotheraristocraticspyofthesameantecedentsasyourself,who,moreover,hasthemysteryabouthimofhavingfeigneddeathandcometolifeagain!
Aplotintheprisons,oftheforeigneragainsttheRepublic.
Astrongcard—acertainGuillotinecard!Doyouplay?”
“No!”returnedthespy.“Ithrowup.
Iconfessthatweweresounpopularwiththeoutrageousmob,thatIonlygotawayfromEnglandattheriskofbeingduckedtodeath,andthatClywassoferretedupanddown,thatheneverwouldhavegotawayatallbutforthatsham.
Thoughhowthismanknowsitwasasham,isawonderofwonderstome.”
“Neveryoutroubleyourheadaboutthisman,”retortedthecontentiousMr.Cruncher;“you’llhavetroubleenoughwithgivingyourattentiontothatgentleman.Andlookhere!Oncemore!”
—Mr.Crunchercouldnotberestrainedfrommakingratheranostentatiousparadeofhisliberality—”I’dcatchholdofyourthroatandchokeyouforhalfaguinea.”
TheSheepoftheprisonsturnedfromhimtoSydneyCarton,andsaid,withmoredecision,“Ithascometoapoint.
Igoondutysoon,andcan’toverstaymytime.
Youtoldmeyouhadaproposal;whatisit?
Now,itisofnouseaskingtoomuchofme.
Askmetodoanythinginmyoffice,puttingmyheadingreatextradanger,andIhadbettertrustmylifetothechancesofarefusalthanthechancesofconsent.Inshort,Ishouldmakethatchoice.Youtalkofdesperation.Wearealldesperatehere.Remember!
ImaydenounceyouifIthinkproper,andIcanswearmywaythroughstonewalls,andsocanothers.Now,whatdoyouwantwithme?”
“Notverymuch.YouareaturnkeyattheConciergerie?”
“Itellyouonceforall,thereisnosuchthingasanescapepossible,”saidthespy,firmly.
“WhyneedyoutellmewhatIhavenotasked?YouareaturnkeyattheConciergerie?”
“Iamsometimes.”
“Youcanbewhenyouchoose?”
“IcanpassinandoutwhenIchoose.”
SydneyCartonfilledanotherglasswithbrandy,poureditslowlyoutuponthehearth,andwatcheditasitdropped.Itbeingallspent,hesaid,rising:
“Sofar,wehavespokenbeforethesetwo,becauseitwasaswellthatthemeritsofthecardsshouldnotrestsolelybetweenyouandme.
Comeintothedarkroomhere,andletushaveonefinalwordalone.”
Share this article to
FINISH