English
WhileSydneyCartonandtheSheepoftheprisonswereintheadjoiningdarkroom,speakingsolowthatnotasoundwasheard,Mr.LorrylookedatJerryinconsiderabledoubtandmistrust.
Thathonesttradesman’smannerofreceivingthelook,didnotinspireconfidence;hechangedthelegonwhichherested,asoftenasifhehadfiftyofthoselimbs,andweretryingthemall;heexaminedhisfinger-nailswithaveryquestionableclosenessofattention;andwheneverMr.Lorry’seyecaughthis,hewastakenwiththatpeculiarkindofshortcoughrequiringthehollowofahandbeforeit,whichisseldom,ifever,knowntobeaninfirmityattendantonperfectopennessofcharacter.
“Jerry,”saidMr.Lorry.“Comehere.”
Mr.Crunchercameforwardsideways,withoneofhisshouldersinadvanceofhim.
“Whathaveyoubeen,besidesamessenger?”
Aftersomecogitation,accompaniedwithanintentlookathispatron,Mr.Cruncherconceivedtheluminousideaofreplying,“Agicultooralcharacter.”
“Mymindmisgivesmemuch,”saidMr.Lorry,angrilyshakingaforefingerathim,“thatyouhaveusedtherespectableandgreathouseofTellson’sasablind,andthatyouhavehadanunlawfuloccupationofaninfamousdescription.
Ifyouhave,don’texpectmetobefriendyouwhenyougetbacktoEngland.
Ifyouhave,don’texpectmetokeepyoursecret.Tellson’sshallnotbeimposedupon.”
“Ihope,sir,”pleadedtheabashedMr.Cruncher,“thatagentlemanlikeyourselfwotI’vehadthehonourofoddjobbingtillI’mgreyatit,wouldthinktwiceaboutharmingofme,evenifitwosso—Idon’tsayitis,butevenifitwos.
Andwhichitistobetookintoaccountthatifitwos,itwouldn’t,eventhen,beallo’oneside.There’dbetwosidestoit.
Theremightbemedicaldoctorsatthepresenthour,apickinguptheirguineaswhereahonesttradesmandon’tpickuphisfardens—fardens!
no,noryethishalffardens—halffardens!
no,noryethisquarter—abankingawaylikesmokeatTellson’s,andacockingtheirmedicaleyesatthattradesmanonthesly,agoinginandgoingouttotheirowncarriages—ah!equallylikesmoke,ifnotmoreso.
Well,that‘udbeimposing,too,onTellson’s.
Foryoucannotsarsethegooseandnotthegander.
Andhere’sMrs.Cruncher,orleastwayswosintheOldEnglandtimes,andwouldbeto-morrow,ifcausegiven,afloppin’againthebusinesstothatdegreeasisruinating—starkruinating!
Whereasthemmedicaldoctors’wivesdon’tflop—catch‘ematit!
Or,iftheyflop,theirtoppingsgoesinfavourofmorepatients,andhowcanyourightlyhaveonewithoutt’other?
Then,wotwithundertakers,andwotwithparishclerks,andwotwithsextons,andwotwithprivatewatchmen(allawariciousandallinit),amanwouldn’tgetmuchbyit,evenifitwosso.
Andwotlittleamandidget,wouldneverprosperwithhim,Mr.Lorry.
He’dneverhavenogoodofit;he’dwantallalongtobeoutoftheline,ifhe,couldseehiswayout,beingoncein—evenifitwosso.”
“Ugh!”criedMr.Lorry,ratherrelenting,nevertheless,“Iamshockedatthesightofyou.”
“Now,whatIwouldhumblyoffertoyou,sir,”pursuedMr.Cruncher,“evenifitwosso,whichIdon’tsayitis—”
“Don’tprevaricate,”saidMr.Lorry.
“No,IwillNOT,sir,”returnedMr.Crunchesasifnothingwerefurtherfromhisthoughtsorpractice—”whichIdon’tsayitis—wotIwouldhumblyoffertoyou,sir,wouldbethis.
Uponthattherestool,atthatthereBar,setsthatthereboyofmine,broughtupandgroweduptobeaman,wotwillerrandyou,messageyou,general-light-jobyou,tillyourheelsiswhereyourheadis,ifsuchshouldbeyourwishes.
Ifitwosso,whichIstilldon’tsayitis(forIwillnotprewaricatetoyou,sir),letthatthereboykeephisfather’splace,andtakecareofhismother;don’tblowuponthatboy’sfather—donotdoit,sir—andletthatfathergointothelineofthereg’lardiggin’,andmakeamendsforwhathewouldhaveundug—ifitwosso-bydiggin’of‘eminwithawill,andwithconwictionsrespectin’thefutur’keepin’of‘emsafe.
That,Mr.Lorry,”saidMr.Cruncher,wipinghisforeheadwithhisarm,asanannouncementthathehadarrivedattheperorationofhisdiscourse,“iswotIwouldrespectfullyoffertoyou,sir.
Amandon’tseeallthishereagoin’ondreadfulroundhim,inthewayofSubjectswithoutheads,dearme,plentifulenoughfurtobringthepricedowntoporterageandhardlythat,withouthavin’hisseriousthoughtsofthings.
Andtheseherewouldbemine,ifitwosso,entreatin’ofyoufurtobearinmindthatwotIsaidjustnow,IupandsaidinthegoodcausewhenImighthavekep’itback.”
“Thatatleastistrue,saidMr.Lorry.“Saynomorenow.ItmaybethatIshallyetstandyourfriend,ifyoudeserveit,andrepentinaction—notinwords.Iwantnomorewords.”
Mr.Cruncherknuckledhisforehead,asSydneyCartonandthespyreturnedfromthedarkroom.“Adieu,Mr.Barsad,”saidtheformer;“ourarrangementthusmade,youhavenothingtofearfromme.”
Hesatdowninachaironthehearth,overagainstMr.Lorry.Whentheywerealone,Mr.Lorryaskedhimwhathehaddone?
“Notmuch.Ifitshouldgoillwiththeprisoner,Ihaveensuredaccesstohim,once.”
Mr.Lorry’scountenancefell.
“ItisallIcoulddo,”saidCarton.“Toproposetoomuch,wouldbetoputthisman’sheadundertheaxe,and,ashehimselfsaid,nothingworsecouldhappentohimifheweredenounced.
Itwasobviouslytheweaknessoftheposition.Thereisnohelpforit.”
“Butaccesstohim,”saidMr.Lorry,“ifitshouldgoillbeforetheTribunal,willnotsavehim.”
“Ineversaiditwould.”
Mr.Lorry’seyesgraduallysoughtthefire;hissympathywithhisdarling,andtheheavydisappointmentofhissecondarrest,graduallyweakenedthem;hewasanoldmannow,overbornewithanxietyoflate,andhistearsfell.
“Youareagoodmanandatruefriend,”saidCarton,inanalteredvoice.
“ForgivemeifInoticethatyouareaffected.
Icouldnotseemyfatherweep,andsitby,careless.
AndIcouldnotrespectyoursorrowmore,ifyouweremyfather.
Youarefreefromthatmisfortune,however.”
Thoughhesaidthelastwords,withaslipintohisusualmanner,therewasatruefeelingandrespectbothinhistoneandinhistouch,thatMr.Lorry,whohadneverseenthebettersideofhim,waswhollyunpreparedfor.
Hegavehimhisband,andCartongentlypressedit.
“ToreturntopoorDarnay,”saidCarton.
“Don’ttellHerofthisinterview,orthisarrangement.
ItwouldnotenableHertogotoseehim.
Shemightthinkitwascontrived,incaseoftheworse,toconveytohimthemeansofanticipatingthesentence.”
Mr.Lorryhadnotthoughtofthat,andhelookedquicklyatCartontoseeifitwereinhismind.Itseemedtobe;hereturnedthelook,andevidentlyunderstoodit.
“Shemightthinkathousandthings,”Cartonsaid,“andanyofthemwouldonlyaddtohertrouble.Don’tspeakofmetoher.
AsIsaidtoyouwhenIfirstcame,Ihadbetternotseeher.
Icanputmyhandout,todoanylittlehelpfulworkforherthatmyhandcanfindtodo,withoutthat.Youaregoingtoher,Ihope?Shemustbeverydesolateto-night.”
“Iamgoingnow,directly.”
“Iamgladofthat.Shehassuchastrongattachmenttoyouandrelianceonyou.Howdoesshelook?”
“Anxiousandunhappy,butverybeautiful.”
“Ah!”
Itwasalong,grievingsound,likeasigh—almostlikeasob.
ItattractedMr.Lorry’seyestoCarton’sface,whichwasturnedtothefire.
Alight,orashade(theoldgentlemancouldnothavesaidwhich),passedfromitasswiftlyasachangewillsweepoverahill-sideonawildbrightday,andheliftedhisfoottoputbackoneofthelittleflaminglogs,whichwastumblingforward.
Heworethewhiteriding-coatandtop-boots,theninvogue,andthelightofthefiretouchingtheirlightsurfacesmadehimlookverypale,withhislongbrownhair,alluntrimmed,hanginglooseabouthim.
HisindifferencetofirewassufficientlyremarkabletoelicitawordofremonstrancefromMr.Lorry;hisbootwasstilluponthehotembersoftheflaminglog,whenithadbrokenundertheweightofMsfoot.
“Iforgotit,”hesaid.
Mr.Lorry’seyeswereagainattractedtohisface.
Takingnoteofthewastedairwhichcloudedthenaturallyhandsomefeatures,andhavingtheexpressionofprisoners’facesfreshinhismind,hewasstronglyremindedofthatexpression.
“Andyourdutiesherehavedrawntoanend,sir?”saidCarton,turningtohim.
“Yes.AsIwastellingyoulastnightwhenLuciecameinsounexpectedly,IhaveatlengthdoneallthatIcandohere.
Ihopedtohavelefttheminperfectsafety,andthentohavequittedParis.IhavemyLeavetoPass.Iwasreadytogo.”
Theywerebothsilent.
“Yoursisalonglifetolookbackupon,sir?”saidCarton,wistfully.
“Iaminmyseventy-eighthyear.”
“Youhavebeenusefulallyourlife;steadilyandconstantlyoccupied;trusted,respected,andlookedupto?”
“Ihavebeenamanofbusiness,eversinceIhavebeenaman.indeed,ImaysaythatIwasamanofbusinesswhenaboy.”
“Seewhataplaceyoufillatseventy-eight.Howmanypeoplewillmissyouwhenyouleaveitempty!”
“Asolitaryoldbachelor,”answeredMr.Lorry,shakinghishead.“Thereisnobodytoweepforme.”
“Howcanyousaythat?Wouldn’tSheweepforyou?Wouldn’therchild?”
“Yes,yes,thankGod.Ididn’tquitemeanwhatIsaid.”
“ItISathingtothankGodfor;isitnot?”
“Surely,surely.”
“Ifyoucouldsay,withtruth,toyourownsolitaryheart,to-night,‘Ihavesecuredtomyselftheloveandattachment,thegratitudeorrespect,ofnohumancreature;Ihavewonmyselfatenderplaceinnoregard;Ihavedonenothinggoodorserviceabletoberememberedby!’
yourseventy-eightyearswouldbeseventy-eightheavycurses;wouldtheynot?”
“Yousaytruly,Mr.Carton;Ithinktheywouldbe.”
Sydneyturnedhiseyesagainuponthefire,and,afterasilenceofafewmoments,said:
“Ishouldliketoaskyou:—Doesyourchildhoodseemfaroff?Dothedayswhenyousatatyourmother’sknee,seemdaysofverylongago?”
Respondingtohissoftenedmanner,Mr.Lorryanswered:
“Twentyyearsback,yes;atthistimeofmylife,no.
For,asIdrawcloserandclosertotheend,Itravelinthecircle,nearerandnearertothebeginning.
Itseemstobeoneofthekindsmoothingsandpreparingsoftheway.
Myheartistouchednow,bymanyremembrancesthathadlongfallenasleep,ofmyprettyyoungmother(andIsoold!)
,andbymanyassociationsofthedayswhenwhatwecalltheWorldwasnotsorealwithme,andmyfaultswerenotconfirmedinme.”
“Iunderstandthefeeling!”exclaimedCarton,withabrightflush.“Andyouarethebetterforit?”
“Ihopeso.”
Cartonterminatedtheconversationhere,byrisingtohelphimonwithhisoutercoat;“Butyou,”saidMr.Lorry,revertingtothetheme,“youareyoung.”
“Yes,”saidCarton.“Iamnotold,butmyyoungwaywasneverthewaytoage.Enoughofme.”
“Andofme,Iamsure,”saidMr.Lorry.“Areyougoingout?”
“I’llwalkwithyoutohergate.Youknowmyvagabondandrestlesshabits.
IfIshouldprowlaboutthestreetsalongtime,don’tbeuneasy;Ishallreappearinthemorning.YougototheCourtto-morrow?”
“Yes,unhappily.”
“Ishallbethere,butonlyasoneofthecrowd.MySpywillfindaplaceforme.Takemyarm,sir.”
Mr.Lorrydidso,andtheywentdown-stairsandoutinthestreets.
AfewminutesbroughtthemtoMr.Lorry’sdestination.
Cartonlefthimthere;butlingeredatalittledistance,andturnedbacktothegateagainwhenitwasshut,andtouchedit.
Hehadheardofhergoingtotheprisoneveryday.
“Shecameouthere,”hesaid,lookingabouthim,“turnedthisway,musthavetrodonthesestonesoften.Letmefollowinhersteps.”
Itwasteno’clockatnightwhenhestoodbeforetheprisonofLaForce,whereshehadstoodhundredsoftimes.Alittlewood-sawyer,havingclosedhisshop,wassmokinghispipeathisshop-door.
“Goodnight,citizen,”saidSydneyCarton,pausingingoingby;for,themaneyedhiminquisitively.
“Goodnight,citizen.”
“HowgoestheRepublic?”
“YoumeantheGuillotine.Notill.Sixty-threeto-day.Weshallmounttoahundredsoon.
Samsonandhismencomplainsometimes,ofbeingexhausted.Ha,ha,ha!Heissodroll,thatSamson.SuchaBarber!”
“Doyouoftengotoseehim—”
“Shave?Always.Everyday.Whatabarber!Youhaveseenhimatwork?”
“Never.”
“Goandseehimwhenhehasagoodbatch.Figurethistoyourself,citizen;heshavedthesixty-threeto-day,inlessthantwopipes!Lessthantwopipes.Wordofhonour!”
Asthegrinninglittlemanheldoutthepipehewassmoking,toexplainhowhetimedtheexecutioner,Cartonwassosensibleofarisingdesiretostrikethelifeoutofhim,thatheturnedaway.
“ButyouarenotEnglish,”saidthewood-sawyer,“thoughyouwearEnglishdress?”
“Yes,”saidCarton,pausingagain,andansweringoverhisshoulder.
“YouspeaklikeaFrenchman.”
“Iamanoldstudenthere.”
“Aha,aperfectFrenchman!Goodnight,Englishman.”
“Goodnight,citizen.”
“Butgoandseethatdrolldog,”thelittlemanpersisted,callingafterhim.“Andtakeapipewithyou!”
Sydneyhadnotgonefaroutofsight,whenhestoppedinthemiddleofthestreetunderaglimmeringlamp,andwrotewithhispencilonascrapofpaper.
Then,traversingwiththedecidedstepofonewhorememberedthewaywell,severaldarkanddirtystreets—muchdirtierthanusual,forthebestpublicthoroughfaresremaineduncleansedinthosetimesofterror—hestoppedatachemist’sshop,whichtheownerwasclosingwithhisownhands.
Asmall,dim,crookedshop,keptinatortuous,up-hillthoroughfare,byasmall,dim,crookedman.
Givingthiscitizen,too,goodnight,asheconfrontedhimathiscounter,helaidthescrapofpaperbeforehim.“Whew!”thechemistwhistledsoftly,ashereadit.“Hi!hi!hi!”
SydneyCartontooknoheed,andthechemistsaid:
“Foryou,citizen?”
“Forme.”
“Youwillbecarefultokeepthemseparate,citizen?Youknowtheconsequencesofmixingthem?”
“Perfectly.”
Certainsmallpacketsweremadeandgiventohim.
Heputthem,onebyone,inthebreastofhisinnercoat,countedoutthemoneyforthem,anddeliberatelylefttheshop.
“Thereisnothingmoretodo,”saidhe,glancingupwardatthemoon,“untilto-morrow.Ican’tsleep.”
Itwasnotarecklessmanner,themannerinwhichhesaidthesewordsaloudunderthefast-sailingclouds,norwasitmoreexpressiveofnegligencethandefiance.
Itwasthesettledmannerofatiredman,whohadwanderedandstruggledandgotlost,butwhoatlengthstruckintohisroadandsawitsend.
Longago,whenhehadbeenfamousamonghisearliestcompetitorsasayouthofgreatpromise,behadfollowedhisfathertothegrave.Hismotherhaddied,yearsbefore.
Thesesolemnwords,whichhadbeenreadathisfather’sgrave,aroseinhismindashewentdownthedarkstreets,amongtheheavyshadows,withthemoonandthecloudssailingonhighabovehim.
“Iamtheresurrectionandthelife,saiththeLord:hethatbelievethinme,thoughheweredead,yetshallhelive:andwhosoeverlivethandbelievethinme,shallneverdie.”
Inacitydominatedbytheaxe,aloneatnight,withnaturalsorrowrisinginhimforthesixty-threewhohadbeenthatdayputtodeath,andforto-morrow’svictimsthenawaitingtheirdoomintheprisons,andstillofto-morrow’sandto-morrow’s,thechainofassociationthatbroughtthewordshome,likearustyoldship’sanchorfromthedeep,mighthavebeeneasilyfound.
Hedidnotseekit,butrepeatedthemandwenton.
Withasolemninterestinthelightedwindowswherethepeopleweregoingtorest,forgetfulthroughafewcalmhoursofthehorrorssurroundingthem;inthetowersofthechurches,wherenoprayersweresaid,forthepopularrevulsionhadeventravelledthatlengthofself-destructionfromyearsofpriestlyimpostors,plunderers,andprofligates;inthedistantburial-places,reserved,astheywroteuponthegates,forEternalSleep;intheaboundinggaols;andinthestreetsalongwhichthesixtiesrolledtoadeathwhichhadbecomesocommonandmaterial,thatnosorrowfulstoryofahauntingSpiriteveraroseamongthepeopleoutofalltheworkingoftheGuillotine;withasolemninterestinthewholelifeanddeathofthecitysettlingdowntoitsshortnightlypauseinfury;SydneyCartoncrossedtheSeineagainforthelighterstreets.
Fewcoacheswereabroad,forridersincoacheswereliabletobesuspected,andgentilityhiditsheadinrednightcaps,andputonheavyshoes,andtrudged.
But,thetheatreswereallwellfilled,andthepeoplepouredcheerfullyoutashepassed,andwentchattinghome.
Atoneofthetheatredoors,therewasalittlegirlwithamother,lookingforawayacrossthestreetthroughthemud.
Hecarriedthechildover,andbefore,thetimidarmwasloosedfromhisneckaskedherforakiss.
“Iamtheresurrectionandthelife,saiththeLord:hethatbelievethinme,thoughheweredead,yetshallhelive:andwhosoeverlivethandbelievethinme,shallneverdie.”
Now,thatthestreetswerequiet,andthenightworeon,thewordswereintheechoesofhisfeet,andwereintheair.
Perfectlycalmandsteady,hesometimesrepeatedthemtohimselfashewalked;but,heheardthemalways.
Thenightworeout,and,ashestooduponthebridgelisteningtothewaterasitsplashedtheriver-wallsoftheIslandofParis,wherethepicturesqueconfusionofhousesandcathedralshonebrightinthelightofthemoon,thedaycamecoldly,lookinglikeadeadfaceoutofthesky.
Then,thenight,withthemoonandthestars,turnedpaleanddied,andforalittlewhileitseemedasifCreationweredeliveredovertoDeath’sdominion.
But,theglorioussun,rising,seemedtostrikethosewords,thatburdenofthenight,straightandwarmtohisheartinitslongbrightrays.
Andlookingalongthem,withreverentlyshadedeyes,abridgeoflightappearedtospantheairbetweenhimandthesun,whiletheriversparkledunderit.
Thestrongtide,soswift,sodeep,andcertain,waslikeacongenialfriend,inthemorningstillness.
Hewalkedbythestream,farfromthehouses,andinthelightandwarmthofthesunfellasleeponthebank.
Whenheawokeandwasafootagain,helingeredthereyetalittlelonger,watchinganeddythatturnedandturnedpurposeless,untilthestreamabsorbedit,andcarrieditontothesea.—”Likeme.”
Atrading-boat,withasailofthesoftenedcolourofadeadleaf,thenglidedintohisview,floatedbyhim,anddiedaway.
Asitssilenttrackinthewaterdisappeared,theprayerthathadbrokenupoutofhisheartforamercifulconsiderationofallhispoorblindnessesanderrors,endedinthewords,“Iamtheresurrectionandthelife.”
Mr.Lorrywasalreadyoutwhenhegotback,anditwaseasytosurmisewherethegoodoldmanwasgone.
SydneyCartondranknothingbutatittlecoffee,atesomebread,and,havingwashedandchangedtorefreshhimself,wentouttotheplaceoftrial.
Thecourtwasallastiranda-buzz,whentheblacksheep—whommanyfellawayfromindread—pressedhimintoanobscurecorneramongthecrowd.
Mr.Lorrywasthere,andDoctorManettewasthere.
Shewasthere,sittingbesideherfather.
Whenherhusbandwasbroughtin,sheturnedalookuponhim,sosustaining,soencouraging,sofullofadmiringloveandpityingtenderness,yetsocourageousforhissake,thatitcalledthehealthybloodintohisface,brightenedhisglance,andanimatedhisheart.
Iftherehadbeenanyeyestonoticetheinfluenceofherlook,onSydneyCarton,itwouldhavebeenseentobethesameinfluenceexactly.
BeforethatunjustTribunal,therewaslittleornoorderofprocedure,ensuringtoanyaccusedpersonanyreasonablehearing.
TherecouldhavebeennosuchRevolution,ifalllaws,forms,andceremonies,hadnotfirstbeensomonstrouslyabused,thatthesuicidalvengeanceoftheRevolutionwastoscatterthemalltothewinds.
Everyeyewasturnedtothejury.Thesamedeterminedpatriotsandgoodrepublicansasyesterdayandthedaybefore,andto-morrowandthedayafter.
Eagerandprominentamongthem,onemanwithacravingface,andhisfingersperpetuallyhoveringabouthislips,whoseappearancegavegreatsatisfactiontothespectators.
Alife-thirsting,cannibal-looking,bloody-mindedjuryman,theJacquesThreeofSt.Antoine.
Thewholejury,asajuryofdogsempannelledtotrythedeer.
Everyeyethenturnedtothefivejudgesandthepublicprosecutor.
Nofavourableleaninginthatquarterto-day.
Afell,uncompromising,murderousbusiness-meaningthere.
Everyeyethensoughtsomeothereyeinthecrowd,andgleamedatitapprovingly;andheadsnoddedatoneanother,beforebendingforwardwithastrainedattention.
CharlesEvremonde,calledDarnay.Releasedyesterday.Reaccusedandretakenyesterday.Indictmentdeliveredtohimlastnight.
SuspectedandDenouncedenemyoftheRepublic,Aristocrat,oneofafamilyoftyrants,oneofaraceproscribed,forthattheyhadusedtheirabolishedprivilegestotheinfamousoppressionofthepeople.
CharlesEvremonde,calledDarnay,inrightofsuchproscription,absolutelyDeadinLaw.
Tothiseffect,inasfeworfewerwords,thePublicProsecutor.
ThePresidentasked,wastheAccusedopenlydenouncedorsecretly?
“Openly,President.”
“Bywhom?”
“Threevoices.ErnestDefarge,wine-vendorofSt.Antoine.”
“Good.”
“ThereseDefarge,hiswife.”
“Good.”
“AlexandreManette,physician.”
Agreatuproartookplaceinthecourt,andinthemidstofit,DoctorManettewasseen,paleandtrembling,standingwherehehadbeenseated.
“President,Iindignantlyprotesttoyouthatthisisaforgeryandafraud.
Youknowtheaccusedtobethehusbandofmydaughter.
Mydaughter,andthosedeartoher,arefardearertomethanmylife.
WhoandwhereisthefalseconspiratorwhosaysthatIdenouncethehusbandofmychild!”
“CitizenManette,betranquil.TofailinsubmissiontotheauthorityoftheTribunalwouldbetoputyourselfoutofLaw.
Astowhatisdearertoyouthanlife,nothingcanbesodeartoagoodcitizenastheRepublic.”
Loudacclamationshailedthisrebuke.ThePresidentranghisbell,andwithwarmthresumed.
“IftheRepublicshoulddemandofyouthesacrificeofyourchildherself,youwouldhavenodutybuttosacrificeher.Listentowhatistofollow.Inthemeanwhile,besilent!”
Franticacclamationswereagainraised.DoctorManettesatdown,withhiseyeslookingaround,andhislipstrembling;hisdaughterdrewclosertohim.
Thecravingmanonthejuryrubbedhishandstogether,andrestoredtheusualhandtohismouth.
Defargewasproduced,whenthecourtwasquietenoughtoadmitofhisbeingheard,andrapidlyexpoundedthestoryoftheimprisonment,andofhishavingbeenamereboyintheDoctor’sservice,andoftherelease,andofthestateoftheprisonerwhenreleasedanddeliveredtohim.
Thisshortexaminationfollowed,forthecourtwasquickwithitswork.
“YoudidgoodserviceatthetakingoftheBastille,citizen?”
“Ibelieveso.”
Here,anexcitedwomanscreechedfromthecrowd:“Youwereoneofthebestpatriotsthere.Whynotsayso?
Youwereacannoneerthatdaythere,andyouwereamongthefirsttoentertheaccursedfortresswhenitfell.Patriots,Ispeakthetruth!”
ItwasTheVengeancewho,amidstthewarmcommendationsoftheaudience,thusassistedtheproceedings.
ThePresidentranghisbell;but,TheVengeance,warmingwithencouragement,shrieked,“Idefythatbell!”
whereinshewaslikewisemuchcommended.
“InformtheTribunalofwhatyoudidthatdaywithintheBastille,citizen.”
“Iknew,”saidDefarge,lookingdownathiswife,whostoodatthebottomofthestepsonwhichhewasraised,lookingsteadilyupathim;“Iknewthatthisprisoner,ofwhomIspeak,hadbeenconfinedinacellknownasOneHundredandFive,NorthTower.Iknewitfromhimself.
HeknewhimselfbynoothernamethanOneHundredandFive,NorthTower,whenhemadeshoesundermycare.
AsIservemygunthatday,Iresolve,whentheplaceshallfall,toexaminethatcell.Itfalls.
Imounttothecell,withafellow-citizenwhoisoneoftheJury,directedbyagaoler.Iexamineit,veryclosely.
Inaholeinthechimney,whereastonehasbeenworkedoutandreplaced,Ifindawrittenpaper.Thisisthatwrittenpaper.
IhavemadeitmybusinesstoexaminesomespecimensofthewritingofDoctorManette.ThisisthewritingofDoctorManette.
Iconfidethispaper,inthewritingofDoctorManette,tothehandsofthePresident.”
“Letitberead.”
Inadeadsilenceandstillness—theprisonerundertriallookinglovinglyathiswife,hiswifeonlylookingfromhimtolookwithsolicitudeatherfather,DoctorManettekeepinghiseyesfixedonthereader,MadameDefargenevertakinghersfromtheprisoner,Defargenevertakinghisfromhisfeastingwife,andalltheothereyesthereintentupontheDoctor,whosawnoneofthem—thepaperwasread,asfollows.
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