A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens - Part 2/2 - Audiobooks

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Speaker 1 (00:00):
But a wild infection of the wildly shaken public mind.
In seasons of pestilence, some of us will have a
secret attraction to the disease, a terrible passing inclination to
die of it. And all of us have like wonders
hidden in our breasts, only needing circumstances to evoke them.
The passage to the Conciergerie was short and dark. The

(00:21):
night in its vermin haunted cells was long and cold.
Next day, fifteen prisoners were put to the bar before
Charles Darnay's name was called. All the fifteen were condemned,
and the trials of the whole occupied an hour and
a half. Charles Evremonde, called Darnay, was at length or reigned.
His judges sat upon the bench in feathered hats, but

(00:44):
the rough red cap and tricolored cockade was the head
dress otherwise prevailing. Looking at the jury and the turbulent audience,
he might have thought that the usual order of things
was reversed, and that the felons were trying the honest men.
The lowest, crew, ullst and worst populace of a city
never without its quantity of low, cruel and bad were

(01:06):
the directing spirits of the scene, noisily commenting, applauding, disapproving, anticipating,
and precipitating the result without a check of the men,
the greater part were armed in various ways. Of the women,
some wore knives, some daggers, some ate and drank as
they looked on. Many knitted. Among these last was one

(01:28):
with a spare piece of knitting under her arm as
she worked. She was in a front row by the
side of a man whom he had never seen since
his arrival at the barrier, but whom he directly remembered
as Defarge. He noticed that she once or twice whispered
in his ear, and that she seemed to be his wife.
But what he most noticed in the two figures was that,

(01:48):
although they were posted as close to himself as they
could be, they never looked towards him. They seemed to
be waiting for something with a dogged determination, and they
looked at the jury but at nothing else. Under the
President sat Doctor Manette in his usual quiet dress. As
well as the prisoner could see, he and mister Laurie

(02:10):
were the only men there unconnected with the tribunal who
wore their usual clothes and had not assumed the coarse
garb of the carmonole. Charles Evremond, called Darnay, was accused
by the public prosecutor as an emigrant whose life was
forfeit to the Republic under the decree which banished all
emigrants on pain of death. It was nothing that the

(02:30):
decree bore date since his return to France. There he was,
and there was the decree. He had been taken in France,
and his head was demanded. Take off his head, cried
the audience, an enemy to the Republic. The President rang
his bell to silence those cries and asked the prisoner
whether it was not true that he had lived many

(02:52):
years in England. Undoubtedly it was. Was he not an emigrant? Then?
What did he call himself? Not an emigrant? He hoped,
within the sense and spirit of the law. Why not?
The President desired to know, because he had voluntarily relinquished
a title that was distasteful to him and a station

(03:14):
that was distasteful to him, and had left his country.
He submitted before the word emigrant in the present acceptation
by the tribunal was in use to live by his
own industry in England rather than on the industry of
the overladen people of France. What proof had he of this?
He handed in the names of two witnesses, the Eppil
Gabelle and Alexander Manette. But he had married in England,

(03:39):
the President reminded him, true, but not an english woman,
a sitizedness of France. Yes, by birth, her name and
family Lucie Manette, only daughter of doctor Manette, the good
physician who sits there. This answer had a happy effect
upon the audience, cries in exaltation of the well known

(04:03):
good physician rent the hull. So capriciously were the people
moved that tears immediately rolled down several ferocious countenances, which
had been glaring at the prisoner a moment before, as
if with impatience to pluck him out into the streets
and kill him. On these few steps of his dangerous way,
Charles Darnay had set his foot according to doctor Manette's

(04:23):
reiterated instructions. The same cautious council directed every step that
lay before him, and had prepared every inch of his road.
The President asked why had he returned to France when
he did, and not sooner? He had not returned sooner
he replied, simply because he had no means of living
in France save those he had resigned, whereas in England

(04:46):
he lived by giving instruction in the French language and literature.
He had returned when he did on the pressing and
written entreaty of a French citizen who represented that his
life was endangered by his absence. He had come back
to save a citizen's life and to bear his testimony
at whatever personal hazard to the truth was that criminal

(05:08):
in the eyes of the republic. The populace cried enthusiastically no,
and the President rang his bell to quiet them, which
it did not, for they continued to cry no until
they left off of their own will. The President required
the name of that citizen. The accused explained that the
citizen was his first witness. He also referred with confidence

(05:32):
to the citizen's letter, which had been taken from him
at the barrier, but which he did not doubt would
be found among the papers then before the President. The
doctor had taken care that it should be there, had
assured him that it would be there, and at this
stage of the proceedings it was produced and read. Citizen
Gabelle was called to confirm it and did so. Citizen

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Gabelle hinted with infinite delicacy and politeness, that in the
pressure of business imposed on the Tribunal by the multitude
of enemies of the Republic with which it had to deal,
he had been slightly overlooked in his prison of the obey.
In fact, had rather passed out of the Tribunal's patriotic
remembrance until three days ago, when he had been summoned

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before it and had been set at liberty on the juries.
Declaring themselves satisfied that the accusation against him was answered
as to himself by the surrender of the citizen Evremonde
called Darnay, Doctor Manette was next questioned. His high personal
popularity and the clearness of his answers made a great impression.
But as he proceeded, as he showed that the accused

(06:37):
was his first friend on his release from his long imprisonment,
that the accused had remained in England, always faithful and
devoted to his daughter and himself in their exile, that
so far from being in favor with the aristocratic government there,
he had actually been tried for his life by it,
as the foe of England, and friend of the United States.
As he brought these circumstances into view with the greatreatest

(07:00):
discretion and with the straightforward force of truth and earnestness.
The jury and the populace became one at last when
he appealed by name to Monsieur Lorry, an English gentleman
then in their present, who like himself, had been a
witness on that English trial, and could corroborate his account
of it. The jury declared that they had heard enough,
and that they were ready with their votes if the

(07:22):
President were content to receive them. At every vote, the
jurymen voted aloud and individually. The populace set up a
shout of applause. All the voices were in the prisoner's favor,
and the President declared him free. Then began one of
those extraordinary scenes with which the populace sometimes gratified their fickleness,

(07:42):
or their better impulses towards generosity in mercy, or which
they regarded as some set off against their swollen account
of cruel rage. No man can decide now to which
of these motives such extraordinary scenes were referable. It is
probable to a blending of all the three with the
second dominating. No sooner was the acquittal pronounced than tears

(08:04):
were shed as freely as blood at another time, and
such fraternal embraces were bestowed upon the prisoner by as
many of both sexes as could rush at him, that
after his long and unwholesome confinement, he was in danger
of fainting from exhaustion, none the less because he knew
very well that the very same people, carried by another current,
would have rushed at him with the very same intensity

(08:26):
to rend him to pieces and strew him over the streets.
His removal to make way for other accused persons who
were to be tried, rescued him from these caresses for
the moment. Five were to be tried together next as
enemies of the republic, forasmuch as they had not assisted
it by word or deed, so quick was the tribunal

(08:47):
to compensate itself and the nation for a chance lost,
that these five came down to him before he left
the place. Condemned to die within twenty four hours, the
first of them told him so, with the customary prison
sign of death a raised finger, and they all added
in words, long live the republic. The five had had.

(09:07):
It is true no audience to lengthen their proceedings, for
when he and doctor Manette emerged from the gate, there
was a great crowd about it, in which there seemed
to be every face he had seen in court, except two,
for which he looked in vain. On his coming out,
the concourse made at him anew weeping, embracing, and shouting,
all by turns, and all together until the very tide

(09:30):
of the river on the bank of which the mad
scene was acted, seemed to run mad like the people
on the shore. They put him into a great chair
they had among them, and which they had taken either
out of the court itself or one of its rooms
or passages. Over the chair they had thrown a red flag,
and to the back of it they had bound a
pike with a red cap on its top. In this

(09:53):
car of triumph, not even the doctor's entreaties could prevent
his being carried to his home on men's shoulders, with
a confused of red caps heaving about him, and casting
up to sight from the stormy deep, such wrecks of
faces that he more than once misdoubted his mind being
in confusion, and that he was in the tumbrel on
his way to the guillotine in wild dreamlike procession, embracing

(10:15):
whom they met, and pointing him out. They carried him on,
reddening the snowy streets with the prevailing Republican color, in
winding and tramping through them, as they had reddened them
below the snow with a deeper dye. They carried him
thus into the courtyard of the building where he lived.
Her father had gone on before to prepare her, and
when her husband stood upon his feet, she dropped, insensible

(10:38):
in his arms. As he held her to his heart,
and turned her beautiful head between his face and the
brawling crowd, so that his tears and her lips might
come together unseen. A few of the people fell to
dancing instantly. All the rest fell to dancing, and the
courtyard overflowed with the carmenole. Then they elevated into the

(10:59):
vacant chair a young woman from the crowd, to be
carried as the goddess of liberty, and then, swelling and
overflowing out into the adjacent streets and along the river's
bank and over the bridge, the carmignole absorbed them every one,
and whirled them away. After grasping the doctor's hand as
he stood victorious and proud before him, After grasping the

(11:20):
hand of mister Laurie, who came panting in breathless from
his struggle against the water spout of the Carmenule, after
kissing little Lucy, who was lifted up to clasp her
arms round his neck, and after embracing the ever zealous
and faithful Pross who lifted her, he took his wife
in his arms and carried her up to their rooms. Lucy,

(11:41):
my own, I am safe, oh dearest Charles. Let me
thank God for this on my knees, as I have
prayed to him. They all reverently bowed their heads and hearts.
When she was again in his arms, he said to her,
and now speak to your father, dearest. No other man
in all this friend could have done what he has
done for me. She laid her head upon her father's breast,

(12:05):
as she had laid his poor head on her own
breast long long ago. He was happy in the return
he had made her. He was recompensed for his suffering.
He was proud of his strength. You must not be weak,
my darling, he remonstrated, don't tremble, so I have saved him.
Chapter seven, A knock at the door. I have saved him.

(12:26):
It was not another of the dreams in which he
had often come back. He was really here, And yet
his wife trembled, and a vague but heavy fear was
upon her. All the air round was so thick and dark,
the people were so passionately revengeful and fitful, The innocent
were so constantly put to death on vague suspicion and
black malice. It was so impossible to forget that many,

(12:49):
as blameless as her husband, and as dear to others
as he was to her, every day shared the fate
from which he had been clutched, that her heart could
not be as lightened of its load as she felt
it ought to be. The shadows of the wintry afternoon
were beginning to fall, and even now the dreadful carts
were rolling through the streets. Her mind pursued them, looking

(13:10):
for him among the condemned, and then she clung closer
to his real presence and trembled more. Her father, cheering her,
showed a compassionate superiority to this woman's weakness, which was
wonderful to see. No garret, no shoemaking, No one hundred
and five North Tower. Now he had accomplished the task

(13:31):
he had set himself. His promise was redeemed. He had
saved Charles let them all lean upon him. Their housekeeping
was of a very frugal kind, not only because that
was the safest way of life, involving the least offense
to the people, but because they were not rich, and Charles,
throughout his imprisonment, had had to pay heavily for his

(13:51):
bad food and for his guard, and towards the living
of the poorer prisoners. Partly on this account, and partly
to avoid a domestic spy, they kept no servant. The
citizen incitizedness, who acted as porters at the courtyard gate
rendered them occasional service, and Jerry, almost wholly transferred to
them by mister Lorry, had become their daily retainer, and

(14:13):
had his bed there every night. It was an ordinance
of the Republic, one and indivisible of liberty, equality, fraternity,
or death, that on the door or doorpost of every
house the name of every inmate must be legibly inscribed
in letters of a certain size, at a certain convenient
height from the ground. Mister Jerry Cruncher's name therefore duly

(14:37):
embellished the doorposts down below, and as the afternoon shadows deepened,
the owner of that name himself appeared from overlooking a
painter whom doctor Manette had employed to add to the
list the name of Charles Evremond, called Darnay. In the
universal fear and distrust that darkened the time, all the
usual harmless ways of life were changed. In the doctor's

(14:58):
little household, as in very many others, the articles of
daily consumption that were wanted were purchased every evening, in
small quantities and at various small shops. To avoid attracting notice,
and to give as little occasion as possible for talk
and envy was the general desire. For some months past,
Miss Pross and mister Cruncher had discharged the office of purveyors,

(15:22):
the former carrying the money, the latter the basket. Every afternoon,
at about the time when the public lamps were lighted,
they fared forth on this duty and made and brought
home such purchases as were needful. Although Miss Pross, through
her long association with a French family, might have known
as much of their language as of her own, if

(15:42):
she had had a mind, she had no mind in
that direction. Consequently, she knew no more of that nonsense,
as she was pleased to call it, than mister Cruncher did. So.
Her manner of marketing was to plump a noun substantive
at the head of a shopkeeper without any introduction in
the nature of an article, And if it happened not
to be the name of the thing, she wanted to

(16:02):
look round for that thing, lay hold of it, and
hold on by it until the bargain was concluded. She
always made a bargain for it by holding up as
a statement of its just price, one finger less than
the merchant held up, whatever his number might be. Now,
mister Cruncher, said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with felicity.

(16:23):
If you are ready, I am Jerry, hoarsely professed himself
at Miss Pross's service. He had worn all his rust
off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky head down.
There's all manner of things wanted, said Miss Pross, and
we shall have a precious time of it. We want
wine among the rest nice toasts. These redheads will be

(16:44):
drinking wherever we buy it. It will be much the
same to your knowledge, Miss I should think, retorted Jerry,
whether they drink your health or the old yu ends
who's he said Miss Pross. Mister Cruncher, with some diffidence,
explained himself as meaning bold nicks Ha, said Miss Pross.

(17:05):
It doesn't need an interpreter to explain the meaning of
these creatures. They have but one, and it's midnight murder
and mischief. Hush, dear, pray, pray, be cautious, cried Lucy. Yes, yes, yes,
I'll be cautious, said Miss Pross. But I may say
among ourselves that I do hope there will be no

(17:28):
oniony in tobaccoy smotherings in the form of embracings all
round going on in the streets. Now, ladybird, never you
stir from that fire till I come back. Take care
of the dear husband you have recovered, and don't move
your pretty head from his shoulder as you have it
now till you see me again. May I ask a question,
Doctor Manette, before I go. I think you may take

(17:51):
that liberty, the doctor answered, smiling. For gracious sake, don't
talk about liberty. We have quite enough of that, said
Miss Pross. Hush dear again, Lucy remonstrated, Well, my sweet
said Miss Pross. Nodding her head emphatically. The short and
the long of it is that I am a subject

(18:13):
of His most gracious Majesty, King George the Third. Miss
Pross curtseyed at the name, And as such my maxim
is confound their politics frustrate their knavish tricks on him.
Our hopes we fix God save the king. Mister Cruncher,
in an access of loyalty, growlingly, repeated the words after
Miss Pross, like somebody at church. I am glad you

(18:35):
have so much of the Englishman in you, though I
wish you had never taken that cold in your voice,
said Miss Pross approvingly. But the question, doctor Manette, is there.
It was the good creature's way to effect, to make
light of anything that was a great anxiety with them all,
and to come at it in this chance manner. Is
there any prospect yet of our getting out of this place?

(18:58):
I fear not yet it would be dangerous for Charles.
Yet hey ho hum, said Miss Pross, cheerfully, repressing a
sigh as she glanced at her darling's golden hair in
the light of the fire. Then we must have patience
and wait. That's all we must hold up our heads
and fight low, as my brother Solomon used to say. Now,

(19:20):
mister Cruncher, don't you move, ladybird. They went out, leaving
Lucie and her husband, her father, and the child by
a bright fire. Mister Lorry was expected back presently from
the banking house. Miss Pross had lighted the lamp, but
had put it aside in a corner that they might
enjoy the firelight. Undisturbed, Little Lucie sat by her grandfather

(19:44):
with her hands clasped through his arm, and he, in
a tone not rising much above a whisper, began to
tell her a story of a great and powerful fairy
who had opened a prison wall and let out a
captive who had once done the fairy a service. All
was subdued and quiet, and lo, she was more at
ease than she had been. What is that? She cried?

(20:05):
All at once, My dear, said her father, stopping in
his story and laying his hand on hers. Command yourself,
what a disordered state you are in the least thing
nothing startles you? You your father's daughter, I thought, my father,
said Lucy, excusing herself with a pale face and in

(20:27):
a faltering voice that I heard strange feet upon the stairs,
My love, the staircase is as still as death. As
he said the word, a blow was struck upon the door. Oh, father, father,
what can this be? Hide Charles, save him, my child,
said the doctor, rising and laying his hand upon her shoulder.

(20:51):
I have saved him. What weakness is this, my dear?
Let me go to the door. He took the lamp
in his hand, crossed the two intervene outer rooms, and
opened it. A rude clattering of feet over the floor,
and four rough men in red caps armed with sabers
and pistols, entered the room zero six four nine m original.

(21:13):
The citizen Evremonde, called Darnay, said the first who seeks him,
answered Darnay, I seek him, We seek him. I know you, Evremonde,
I saw you before the tribunal. To day you are
again the prisoner of the republic. The four surrounded him
where he stood, with his wife and child clinging to him.

(21:35):
Tell me how and why am I again a prisoner.
It is enough that you returned straight to the Conciergerie
and will know tomorrow you are summoned for tomorrow Doctor Manette,
whom this visitation had so turned into stone that He
stood with the lamp in his hand as if he
were a statue made to hold it. Moved after these
words were spoken, put the lamp down, and, confronting the

(21:57):
speaker and taking him not ungently by the loose front
of his red woolen shirt, said you know him, you
have said, do you know me? Yes, I know you,
Citizen doctor. We all know you, Citizen doctor said the
other three. He looked abstractedly from one to another, and said,

(22:18):
in a lower voice, after a pause, will you answer
his question to me? Then? How does this happen? Citizen
doctor said the first reluctantly. He has been denounced to
the section of Saint Antoine. This citizen, pointing out the
second who had entered, is from Saint Antoine. The citizen
here indicated, nodded his head and added, he is accused

(22:40):
by Saint Antoine of what, asked the doctor. Citizen Doctor
said the first, with his former reluctance, ask no more.
If the Republic demand sacrifices from you, without doubt you,
as a good patriot, will be happy to make them.
The republic goes before all the people is supreme evremonde.

(23:02):
We are pressed one word, The doctor entreated will you
tell me who denounced him? It is against rule, answered
the first, But you can ask him of Saint Antoine.
Here the doctor turned his eyes upon that man, who
moved uneasily on his feet, rubbed his beard a little,
and at length said, well, truly it is against rule,

(23:25):
but he is denounced and gravely by the citizen, and
citizeness defarge, and by one other. What other do you ask,
citizen doctor? Yes, then said he of Saint Antoine, with
a strange look. You will be answered tomorrow. Now I
am dumb Chapter eight, A hand at cards. Happily unconscious

(23:50):
of the new calamity at home, Miss Pross threaded her
way along the narrow streets and crossed the river by
the bridge of the pont Neuf, reckoning in her mind
the number of indispensable purchases she had had to make.
Mister Cruncher with the basket, walked at her side. They
both looked to the right and to the left into
most of the shops they passed, had a wary eye

(24:10):
for all gregarious assemblages of people, and turned out of
their road to avoid any very excited group of talkers.
It was a raw evening, and the misty river blurred
to the eye with blazing lights and to the ear
with harsh noises, showed where the barges were stationed in
which the smiths worked making guns for the Army of
the Republic. Woe to the man who played tricks with

(24:32):
that army, or got undeserved promotion in it. Better for
him that his beard had never grown, for the National
Razor shaved him close. Having purchased a few small articles
of grocery and a measure of oil for the lamp,
Miss Pross bethought herself of the wine they wanted. After
peeping into several wine shops, she stopped at the sign

(24:53):
of the Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity, not far from
the National Palace, once and twice the Tileries, where the
aspect of things rather took her fancy. It had a
quieter look than any other place of the same description
they had passed, and though red with patriotic caps, was
not so red as the rest Sounding mister Cruncher, and

(25:14):
finding him of her opinion, Miss Pross resorted to the
Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity, attended by her cavalier. Slightly
observant of the smoky lights, of the people pipe in mouth,
playing with limp cards and yellow dominoes. Of the one
bare breasted, bare armed, soup bigrimed workmen reading a journal aloud,
and of the others listening to him, of the weapons

(25:36):
worn or laid aside to be resumed. Of the two
or three customers fallen forward asleep, who in the popular
high shouldered, shaggy black spencer looked in that attitude like
slumbering bears or dogs. The two outlandish customers approached the
counter and showed what they wanted. As their wine was
measuring out, a man parted from another man in a

(25:58):
corner and rose to depart. In going he had to
face miss Pross. No sooner did he face her than
Miss Pross uttered a scream and clapped her hands. In
a moment, the whole company were on their feet. That
somebody was assassinated by somebody, vindicating a difference of opinion
was the likeliest occurrence. Everybody looked to see somebody fall,

(26:21):
but only saw a man and a woman standing staring
at each other, the man with all the outward aspect
of a Frenchman and a thorough Republican, the woman evidently English,
zero six five three m original What was said in
this disappointing anti climax by the disciples of the Good
republican brutus of antiquity, except that it was something very
voluble and loud, would have been as so much Hebrew

(26:44):
or Chaldean to Miss Pross and her protector, though they
had been all ears, but they had no ears for
anything in their surprise. For it must be recorded that
not only was Miss Pross lost in amazement and agitation,
but mister Cruncher, though it seemed on his own separate
and individual account, was in a state of the greatest wonder.

(27:06):
What is the matter? Said the man who had caused
Miss Pross to scream, speaking in a vexed, abrupt voice,
though in a low tone and in English. Oh, Solomon,
dear Solomon, cried Miss Pross, clapping her hands again. After
not setting eyes upon you or hearing of you for
so long a time, do I find you here? Don't

(27:28):
call me Solomon? Do you want to be the death
of me? Asked the man in a furtive, frightened way.
Brother brother, cried Miss Pross, bursting into tears. Have I
ever been so hard with you that you? Asked me
such a cruel question. Then hold your meddlesome tongue, said Solomon,
and come out if you want to speak to me.

(27:51):
Pay for your wine and come out. Who's this man?
Miss Pross, shaking her loving in dejected head at her
by no means of affectionate brother, said through her tears,
mister Cruncher. Let him come out, too, said Solomon. Does
he think me a ghost? Apparently mister Cruncher did, to
judge from his looks, He said not a word, however,

(28:15):
and Miss Pross, exploring the depths of her reticule through
her tears with great difficulty, paid for her wine. As
she did so. Solomon turned to the followers of the
Good Republican brutus of antiquity, and offered a few words
of explanation in the French language, which caused them all
to relapse into their former places and pursuits. Now, said Solomon,

(28:36):
stopping at the dark street corner, what do you want?
How dreadfully unkind in a brother, nothing has ever turned
my love away from cried Miss Pross. To give me
such a greeting and show me no affection there? Confound
it there, said Solomon, making a dab at Miss Pross's
lips with his own. Now are you content? Miss Pross

(29:00):
only shook her head and wept in silence. If you
expect me to be surprised, said her brother Solomon. I
am not surprised. I knew you were here. I know
of most people who are here. If you really don't
want to endanger my existence, which I half believe you do,
go your ways as soon as possible and let me
go mine. I am busy. I am an official, my

(29:23):
English brother, Solomon mourned Miss Pross, casting up her tear
fraught eyes that had the makings in him of one
of the best and greatest of men in his native country,
an official among foreigners, and such foreigners, I would almost
sooner have seen the dear boy lying in his I said, so,
cried her brother, interrupting, I knew it. You want to

(29:45):
be the death of me. I shall be rendered suspected
by my own sister, just as I am getting on
the gracious and merciful heavens forbid, cried Miss Pross. Far Rather,
would I never see you again, dear Solomon, though I
have ever loved you truly and ever shall say but

(30:06):
one affectionate word to me and tell me there is
nothing angry or estranged between us, and I will detain
you no longer, good Miss Pross, as if the estrangement
between them had come of any culpability of hers, as
if mister Laurie had not known it for a fact
years ago in the quiet corner, in soho that this

(30:26):
precious brother had spent her money and left her. He
was saying the affectionate word, however, with a far more
grudging condescension and patronage than he could have shown if
their relative merits and positions had been reversed, which is
invariably the case all the world over. When mister Cruncher,
touching him on the shoulder, hoarsely and unexpectedly, interposed with

(30:47):
the following singular question, I say, might I ask the
favor as to whether your name is John Solomon or
Solomon John? The official turned towards him with sudden distrust.
He had not previously uttered a word. Come, said, mister Cruncher,
speak out, you know, which, by the way, was more

(31:09):
than he could do himself. John Solomon or Solomon? John.
She calls you Solomon, and she must know, being your sister,
and I know your John. You know which of the
two goes first? And regarding that name of Pross, likewise,
that warn't your name over the water? What do you mean? Well,

(31:32):
I don't know all I mean, for I can't call
to mind what your name was over the water. No, no,
but I'll swear it was a name of two syllables. Indeed, yes,
t'other one's was one syllable. I know you you was
a spy witness at the bailey. What in the name

(31:54):
of the father of lies own father to yourself was
you called at that time? Bar sad? Said another voice,
striking in, that's the name for a thousand pound, cried Jerry.
The speaker who struck in was Sydney Carton. He had
his hands behind him under the skirts of his riding coat,
and he stood at mister Cruncher's elbow as negligently as

(32:17):
he might have stood at the old bailey itself. Don't
be alarmed, my dear miss Pross. I arrived at mister
Lorry's to his surprise yesterday evening. We agreed that I
would not present myself elsewhere until all was well, or
unless I could be useful. I present myself here to
beg a little talk with your brother. I wish you

(32:37):
had a better employed brother than mister Barsad. I wish
for your sake. Mister Barsad was not a sheep of
the prisons. Sheep was a cant word of the time
for a spy under the jailers. The spy, who was pale,
turned paler and asked him how he dared. I'll tell you,
said Sydney. I lighted on you, mister Barsad, coming out

(33:00):
of the prison of the Conciergerie, while I was contemplating
the walls an hour or more ago. You have a
face to be remembered, and I remember faces well. Made
curious by seeing you in that connection, and having a
reason to which you are no stranger, for associating you
with the misfortunes of a friend now very unfortunate, I
walked in your direction. I walked into the wine shop

(33:22):
here close after you, and sat near you. I had
no difficulty in deducing from your unreserved conversation and the
rumor openly going about among your admirers the nature of
your calling, and gradually what I had done at random
seemed to shape itself into a purpose. Mister Barsad, what purpose?

(33:43):
The spy asked it would be troublesome and might be
dangerous to explain in the street. Could you favor me
in confidence with some minutes of your company at the
office of Tellson's Bank, for instance? Under a threat? Oh
did I say that? Then? Why should I go there? Really,

(34:05):
mister Barsad, I can't say. If you can't, do you
mean that? You won't say, sir? The spy resolutely asked
you apprehend me very clearly, mister Barsad, I won't. Carton's
negligent recklessness of manner came powerfully in aid of his
quickness and skill in such a business as he had
in his secret mind, and with such a man as

(34:26):
he had to do with his practiced I saw it
and made the most of it. Now I told you so,
said the spy, casting a reproachful look at his sister.
If any trouble comes of this, it's your doing. Come come,
mister Barsad, exclaimed Sidney, don't be ungrateful. But for my

(34:47):
great respect for your sister, I might not have led
up so pleasantly to a little proposal that I wished
to make for our mutual satisfaction. Do you go with
me to the bank. I'll hear what you have got
to say yes, I'll go with you. I propose that
we first conduct your sister safely to the corner of
her own street. Let me take your arm, Miss Pross.

(35:11):
This is not a good city at this time for
you to be out in unprotected, And as your escort knows,
mister Barsad, I will invite him to mister Lorry's with us.
Are we ready come then? Miss Pross recalled soon afterwards,
and to the end of her life, remembered that as
she pressed her hands on Sidney's arm and looked up

(35:31):
in his face, imploring him to do no hurt to Solomon,
there was a braced purpose in the arm and a
kind of inspiration in the eyes which not only contradicted
his light manner, but changed and raised the man. She
was too much occupied then with fears for the brother
who so little deserved her affection, and with Sydney's friendly
reassurances adequately to heed what she observed. They left her

(35:54):
at the corner of the street, and Carton led the
way to mister Lorry's, which was within a few minutes
walk John Barsad or Solomon Pross walked at his side.
Mister Laurie had just finished his dinner and was sitting
before a cheery little log or two of fire, perhaps
looking into their blaze for the picture of that younger

(36:14):
elderly gentleman from Tellson's who had looked into the red
coals at the Royal George at Dover now a good
many years ago. He turned his head as they entered
and showed the surprise with which he saw a stranger.
Miss Pross's brother, Sir, said Sidney. Mister Barsad. Barsad repeated
the old gentleman Barsad, I have an association with the

(36:38):
name and with the face I told you you had
a remarkable face. Mister Barsad observed Carton coolly Pray sit
down as he took a chair himself. He supplied the
link that mister Lorry wanted by saying to him with
a frown witness at that trial. Mister Lorry immediately remembered
and regarded his new visitor with an un disguised look

(37:00):
of abhorns. Mister Barsad has been recognized by miss Pross
as the affectionate brother you have heard of, said Sydney,
and has acknowledged the relationship I passed to worse News
Darnay has been arrested again. Struck with consternation, the old
gentleman exclaimed, what do you tell me? I left him

(37:22):
safe and free within these two hours, and am about
to return to him arrested for all that. When was
it done, mister Barsad? Just now, if at all, mister
Barsad is the best authority possible, Sir, said Sydney. And
I have it from mister Barsad's communication to a friend

(37:43):
and brother sheep over a bottle of wine, that the
arrest has taken place. He left the messengers at the
gate and saw them admitted by the porter. There is
no earthly doubt that he has retaken mister Lorry's business.
I read in a speaker's face that it was loss
of time to dwell upon the point. Confused but sensible
that something might depend on his presence of mind, he

(38:05):
commanded himself and was silently attentive. Now I trust, said
Sydney to him, that the name and influence of doctor
Manette may stand him in as good stead tomorrow. You
said he would be before the tribunal again tomorrow. Mister
Barr said, yes, I believe so, in as good stead
tomorrow as to day. But it may not be so

(38:28):
I own to you. I am shaken, mister Lorry, by
doctor Manette's not having had the power to prevent this arrest.
He may not have known of it beforehand, said mister Lorry,
But that very circumstance would be alarming when we remember
how identified he is with his son in law. That's true,
mister Lorry acknowledged, with his troubled hand at his chin

(38:50):
and his troubled eyes on Carton in short, said Sydney.
This is a desperate time when desperate games are played
for desperate stakes. Let the doctor play the winning game.
I will play the losing one. No man's life here
is worth purchase. Any One carried home by the people
to day may be condemned tomorrow. Now. The stake I

(39:13):
have resolved to play for in case of the worst
is a friend in the conciergerie, And the friend I
purpose to myself to win is mister bar Sad. You
need have good cards, sir, said the spy. I'll run
them over. I'll see what I hold. Mister Laurie, you
know what a brute I am. I wish you'd give

(39:34):
me a little brandy. It was put before him, and
he drank off a glassful, drank off another glassful, pushed
the bottle thoughtfully away. Mister bar Sad, he went on,
in the tone of one who really was looking over
a hand at cards. Sheep of the prisons, emissary of
Republican committees, now turnkey, now prisoner, always spy and secret informer.

(39:56):
So much the more valuable here for being English. That
an English is less open to suspicion of subornation in
those characters than a Frenchman represents himself to his employers
under a false name. That's a very good card. Mister Barsad,
now in the employ of the republican French government, was
formerly in the employ of the aristocratic English government, the

(40:19):
enemy of France and freedom. That's an excellent card inference,
clear as day in this region of suspicion, that mister Barsad,
still in the pay of the aristocratic English government, is
the spy of pitt, the treacherous foe of the Republic,
crouching in its bosom, the English trader and agent of
all mischief, so much spoken of and so difficult to find.

(40:42):
That's a card not to be beaten. Have you followed
my hand, mister Barsad, not to understand your play, returned
the spy somewhat uneasily. I play my ace denunciation of
mister Barsad to the nearest section committee. Look over your hand,
mister Barsad, and see what you have. Don't hurry. He

(41:04):
drew the bottle near, poured out another glassful of brandy,
and drank it off. He saw that the spy was
fearful of his drinking himself into a fit state for
the immediate denunciation of him seeing it, he poured out
and drank another glassful. Look over your hand carefully, mister Barsad,
take time. It was a poorer hand than he suspected.

(41:27):
Mister Barsad saw losing cards in it. That Sydney Carton
knew nothing of thrown out of his honorable employment in England,
threw too much unsuccessful hard swearing there, not because he
was not wanted there. Our English reasons for vaunting our
superiority to secrecy and spies are a very modern date.
He knew that he had crossed the channel and accepted

(41:48):
service in France, first as a tempter and an eavesdropper
among his own countrymen, there gradually as a tempter and
an eavesdropper among the natives. He knew that under the
old overthrown government he had been a spy upon Saint
Antoine Defarge's wine shop, had received from the watchful police
such heads of information concerning doctor Manette's imprisonment, release and

(42:10):
history as should serve him for an introduction to familiar
conversation with the Defarges, and tried them on Madame Defarge,
and had broken down with them signally. He always remembered,
with fear and trembling that that terrible woman had knitted
when he talked with her, and had looked ominously at
him as her fingers moved. He had since seen her

(42:32):
in the section of Saint Antoine, over and over again,
produce her knitted registers and denounce people whose lives the
guillotine then surely swallowed up. He knew, as every one
employed as he was, did, that he was never safe,
that flight was impossible, that he was tied fast under
the shadow of the axe, and that, in spite of
his utmost co giversation and treachery in furtherance of the

(42:53):
reigning terror, a word might bring it down upon him.
Once denounced, and on such grave as had just now
been suggested to his mind. He foresaw that the dreadful woman,
of whose unrelenting character he had seen many proofs, would
produce against him that fatal register and would quash his
last chance of life. Besides that all secret men are

(43:15):
men soon terrified. Here were surely cards enough of one
black suit to justify the holder in, growing rather livid
as he turned them over. You scarcely seem to like
your hand, said Sydney, with the greatest composure. Do you play?
I think, sir, said the spy in the meanest manner,
as he turned to mister Laurie. I may appeal to

(43:37):
a gentleman of your years in benevolence to put it
to this other gentleman so much, your junior, whether he can,
under any circumstances, reconcile it to his station to play
the ace of which he has spoken. I admit that
I am a spy, and that it is considered a
discreditable station, though it must be filled by somebody. But
this gentleman is no spy, and why should he so

(43:58):
demean himself as to make himself one. I play my ace,
mister Barsad, said Carton, taking the answer on himself, and
looking at his watch without any scruple, in a very
few minutes. I should have hoped, gentlemen, both, said the spy,
always striving to hook mister Lorry into the discussion that
your respect for my sister. I could not better testify

(44:20):
my respect for your sister than by finally relieving her
of her brother, said Sydney Carton. You think not, sir,
I have thoroughly made up my mind about it. The
smooth manner of the spy, curiously in dissonance with his
ostentatiously rough dress and probably with his usual demeanor, received
such a check from the inscrutability of Carton, who was

(44:42):
a mystery to wiser and honester men than he that
had faltered here and failed him While he was at
a loss, Carton said, resuming his former air of contemplating cards.
And indeed, now I think again, I have a strong
impression that I have another good card here. Not yet
enumerated that friend and fellow sheep who spoke of himself

(45:03):
as pasturing in the country prisons. Who was he? French?
You don't know him, said the spy quickly. French, eh,
repeated Carton, musing and not appearing to notice him at all,
though he echoed his word. Well, he may be, is
I assure you, said the spy. Though it's not important.

(45:26):
Though it's not important, repeated Carton, in the same mechanical way.
Though it's not important. No, it's not important. No yet
I know the face. I think not. I am sure not.
It can't be, said the spy. It can't be, muttered
Sydney Carton, retrospectively, and idling his glass, which fortunately was

(45:50):
a small one. Again, can't be spoke good French, yet
like a foreigner, I thought provincial, said the spy. Mil
the foreign, cried Carton, striking his open hand on the
table as a light broke clearly on his mind. Clie disguised,

(46:11):
but the same man. We had that man before us
at the old Bailey. Now there you are, hasty, sir,
said Barsad, with a smile that gave his aquiline nose
an extra inclination to one side. There you really give
me an advantage over you. Clie, who I will unreservedly
admit at this distance of time, was a partner of mine.

(46:33):
Has been dead several years. I attended him in his
last illness. He was buried in London at the Church
of Saint Pancras in the fields his unpopularity with the
blaggared multitude at the moment prevented my following his remains,
but I helped to lay him in his coffin. Here,
mister Lorry became aware from where he sat of a

(46:53):
most remarkable goblin shadow on the wall. Tracing it to
its source, he discovered it to be caused by a sudden,
extraordinary rising and stiffening of all the risen and stiff
hair on mister Cruncher's head. Let us be reasonable, said
the spy, and let us be fair to show you
how mistaken you are, and what an unfounded assumption yours is.

(47:15):
I will lay before you a certificate of Claie's burial,
which I happened to have carried in my pocket book.
With a hurried hand, he produced and opened it. Ever
since there it is, Oh, look at it. Look at it.
You may take it in your hand. It's no forgery.
Here mister Laurie perceived the reflection on the wall to elongate,

(47:36):
and mister Cruncher rose and stepped forward. His hair could
not have been more violently on end if it had
been that moment dressed by the cow with the crumpled
horn in the house that Jack built. Unseen by the spy,
mister Cruncher stood at his side and touched him on
the shoulder like a ghostly bailiff. That there, Roger Clyye master,

(47:58):
said mister Cruncher, with a tacit an iron bound visage.
So you put him in his coffin? I did? Who
took him out of it? Barsad leaned back in his
chair and stammered, what do you mean? I mean, said
mister Cruncher, that he warn't never in it? No, not

(48:18):
he I'll have my head took off if he was
ever in it. The spy looked round at the two gentlemen.
They both looked in unspeakable astonishment at Jerry. I tell you,
said Jerry, that you buried paving stones and earth in
at their coffin. Don't go and tell me that you
buried cly It was a take in me and two

(48:40):
more knows it. How do you know it? What's that
to you? Echoed growled mister Cruncher. It's you. I have
got a old grudge again, is it? With your shameful
impositions upon tradesman. I'd catch hold of your throat and
choke you for half a guinea Sidney Carton, who with
mister Florry, had been lost in amazement at this turn

(49:02):
of the business. Here requested mister Cruncher to moderate and
explain himself at another time, Sir, he returned evasively. The
present time is ill convenient for explaining. What I stand
to is that he knows well what that their cly
was never in at their coffin. Let him say he
was in so much as a word of one syllable,

(49:25):
and I'll either catch hold of his throat and choke
him for half a guinea. Mister Cruncher dwelt upon this
as quite a liberal offer, or I'll out and announce him. Humph,
I see one thing, said Carton. I hold another card,
mister Barsad. Impossible here in raging Paris, with suspicion filling

(49:45):
the air for you to outlive denunciation, when you are
in communication with another aristocratic spy of the same antecedents
as yourself, who moreover has the mystery about him of
having feigned death and come to life again. A plot
in the prison of the foreigner against the Republic. A
strong card, a certain guillotine card. Do you play no

(50:09):
return the spy? I throw up, I confess that we
were so unpopular with the outrageous mob, that I only
got away from England at the risk of being duck
to death, and that cly was so ferreted up and
down that he never would have got away at all
but for that sham. Though how this man knows it
was a sham is a wonder of wonders to me.

(50:31):
Never you trouble your head about this man, retorted the
contentious mister Cruncher. You'll have trouble enough with giving your
attention to that gentleman. And look here once more. Mister
Cruncher could not be restrained from making rather an ostentatious
parade of his liberality. I'd catch hold of your throat
and choke you for half a guinea. The sheep of

(50:52):
the prisons turned from him to Sydney Carton and said,
with more decision, it has come to a point. I
go on duty soon and can't overstay my time. You
told me you had a proposal. What is it now?
It is of no use asking too much of me,
ask me to do anything in my office, putting my
head in great extra danger, and I had better trust

(51:15):
my life to the chances of a refusal than the
chances of consent. In short, I should make that choice.
You talk of desperation. We are all desperate here. Remember,
I may denounce you if I think proper, and I
can swear my way through stone walls, and so can others.

(51:35):
Now what do you want with me? Not very much.
You are a turnkey at the Conciergerie. I tell you
once for all. There is no such thing as an
escape possible, said the spy firmly. Why need you tell
me what I have not asked? You are a turnkey
at the Conciergerie. I am. Sometimes you can be when

(51:57):
you choose, I can pass us in and out when
I choose. Sydney Carton filled another glass with brandy, poured
it slowly out upon the hearth, and watched it as
it dropped, it being all spent, he said, rising, so
far we have spoken before these two, because it was
as well that the merits of the cards should not
rest solely between you and me. Come into the dark

(52:20):
room here and let us have one final word alone.
Chapter nine, the game made while Sydney Carton and the
sheep of the prisons were in the adjoining dark room,
speaking so low that not a sound was heard. Mister
Lorry looked at Jerry in considerable doubt and mistrust. That
honest tradesman's manner of receiving the look did not inspire confidence.

(52:41):
He changed the leg on which he rested as often
as if he had fifty of those limbs and were
trying them all. He examined his finger nails with a
very questionable closeness of attention, and whenever mister Laurie's i
caught his, he was taken with that peculiar kind of
short cough, requiring the hollow of a hand before it,
which is seldom, if ever, known to be an infirmity attendant.

(53:03):
On perfect openness of character, Jerry said, mister Lorry, come here.
Mister Cruncher came forward sideways, with one of his shoulders
in advance of him. What have you been besides a messenger?
After some cogitation, accompanied with an intent look at his patron,
mister Cruncher conceived the luminous idea of replying agical tooral character.

(53:26):
My mind misgives me much, said mister Laurie, angrily, shaking
a forefinger at him, that you have used the respectable
and great house of Tellson's as a blind, and that
you have had an unlawful occupation of an infamous description.
If you have, don't expect me to befriend you when
you get back to England. If you have, don't expect

(53:47):
me to keep your secret. Tellson shall not be imposed upon.
I hope, sir, pleaded the abashed mister Cruncher, that a
gentleman like yourself, would I have had the honor of
odd jobbing till i'm gray at it, would think twice
about harming of me, even if it was so, I
don't say it is. But even if it was, and
which it is to be took into account that if

(54:09):
it was, it wouldn't even then be all O one side.
There'd be two sides to it. There might be medical
doctors at the present hour, a picking up their guineas,
where honest tradesmen don't pick up his far dends far
dends no, nor yet his half far dends half far
dends no, nor yet his quarter, A banking away like

(54:32):
smoke at Tellson's, and a cocking their medical eyes at
that tradesman on the sly, A going in and going
out to their own carriages, ah, equally like smoke, if
not more so well, that U'd be imposing two on Tellson's,
for you cannot sarcee the goose and not the gander.

(54:52):
And here's missus cruncher, or leastways wass in the old
England times, and would be tomorrow if cause given a
flop pin again the business to that degree as is ruinating,
stark ruinating, whereas the medical doctors wives don't flop, catch
em at it, or if they flop, their floppings goes

(55:13):
in favor of more patience. And how can you rightly
have one without t'other? Then? What with undertakers, and what
with parish clerks, and what with sextons, and what with
private watchmen? All ourisious and all in it. A man
wouldn't get much by it, even if it was so,
And what little a man did get would never prosper

(55:33):
with him. Mister Lorry, he'd never have no good of it.
He'd want all along to be out of the line
if he could see his way out being once in,
even if it was so, Ah, cried mister Lorry, rather relenting. Nevertheless,
I am shocked at the sight of you. Now what
I would humbly offer to you, sir, pursued mister Cruncher.

(55:56):
Even if it was so, which I don't say it is,
don't prevaricate, said mister Lorry. No, I will not, sir,
return mister Crunches, as if nothing were further from his
thoughts or practice, which I don't say it is. What
I would humbly offer to you, Sir, would be this
upon their stool, at that there bar sets, that their

(56:17):
boy of mine brought up and growed up to be
a man. What will errand you message you general light
job you till your heels is where your head is,
if such should be your wishes. If it was so,
which I still don't say it is, for I will
not prewaricate to you, sir. Let that their boy keep
his father's place and take care of his mother. Don't

(56:37):
blow upon that boy's father. Do not do it, sir,
And let that father go into the line of the
redge lar diggin and make amends for what he would
have undug if it was so, by diggin of em
in with a will and with convictions respectin the feud,
keepin of em safe that, mister Lorry, said mister Cruncher,

(56:58):
wiping his forehead with his arm as an announcement that
he had arrived at the peroration of his discourse. Is
what I would respectfully offer to you, sir, A man
don't see all this here agoin on dreadful round him
in the way of subjects without heads. Dear me, plentiful
enough fur to bring the price down to Portridge, and
hardly that without having his serious thoughts of things, and

(57:21):
these here would be mine if it was so entreatin
of eu fur to bear in mind that what I
said just now I up and said in the good cause,
when I might have kept it back. That at least
is true, said mister Lorry. Say no more. Now. It
may be that I shall yet stand your friend, if
you deserve it, and repent in action, not in words.

(57:44):
I want no more words. Mister Cruncher knuckled his forehead
as Sidney Carton and the spy returned from the dark room. Adieu,
mister Barsad, said the former. Our arrangement thus made you
have nothing to fear from me. He sat down in
a chair on the hearth over against mister Lorry. When
they were alone, mister Lorry asked him what he had done.

(58:06):
Not much, if it should go ill with the prisoner.
I have insured access to him. Once mister Lorry's countenance fell.
It is all I could do, said Carton. To propose
too much would be to put this man's head under
the axe. And as he himself said, nothing worse could
happen to him if he were denounced. It was obviously

(58:27):
the weakness of the position. There is no help for it,
but access to him, said mister Lorry. If it should
go ill before the tribunal, will not save him. I
never said it would. Mister Lorrie's eyes gradually sought the fire.
His sympathy with his darling, and the heavy disappointment of
his second arrest gradually weakened them. He was an old man,

(58:50):
now overborne with anxiety of late, and his tears fell.
You are a good man and a true friend, said Carton,
in an altered voice. Forgive me if I notice that
you are affected. I could not see my father weep
and sit by careless, and I could not respect your
sorrow more if you were my father. You are free

(59:12):
from that misfortune. However, though he said the last words
with a slip into his usual manner, there was a
true feeling in respect, both in his tone and in
his touch that mister Laurie, who had never seen the
better side of him, was wholly unprepared for. He gave
him his hand, and Carton gently pressed it to return

(59:33):
to poor Darnay, said Carton, don't tell her of this
interview or this arrangement. It would not enable her to
go to see him. She might think it was contrived,
in case of the worse, to convey to him the
means of anticipating the sentence. Mister Lorry had not thought
of that, and he looked quickly at Carton to see
if it were in his mind. It seemed to be.

(59:55):
He returned the look and evidently understood it. She might
think of thousand things, Carton said, and any of them
would only add to her trouble. Don't speak of me
to her, as I said to you when I first came,
I had better not see her. I can put my
hand out to do any little helpful work for her
that my hand can find to do. Without that you

(01:00:18):
are going to her, I hope she must be very
desolate tonight. I am going now directly. I am glad
of that she has such a strong attachment to you
and reliance on you. How does she look anxious and unhappy,
but very beautiful. Ah. It was a long, grieving sound,

(01:00:40):
like a sigh, almost like a sob. It attracted mister
Laurie's eyes to Carton's face, which was turned to the fire.
A light or a shade, the old gentleman could not
have said, which passed from it as swiftly as a
change will sweep over a hillside on a wild bright day.
And he lifted his foot to put back one of
the little flaming logs which was tumbling forward. He wore

(01:01:04):
the white riding coat and top boots then in vogue,
and the light of the fire touching their light surfaces,
made him look very pale, with his long brown hair
all untrimmed, hanging loose about him. His indifference to fire
was sufficiently remarkable to elicit a word of remonstrance from
mister Laurie. His boot was still upon the hot embers

(01:01:25):
of the flaming log when it had broken under the
weight of his foot. I forgot it, he said. Mister
Lorry's eyes were again attracted to his face, taking note
of the wasted air which clouded the naturally handsome features,
and having the expression of prisoner's faces. Fresh in his mind.
He was strongly reminded of that expression. And your duties

(01:01:47):
here have drawn to an end, Sir, said Carton, turning
to him. Yes, as I was telling you last night
when Lucy came in so unexpectedly, I have at length
done all that I can do here. I hoped to
have left them in perfect safety, and then to have
quitted Paris. I have my leave to pass. I was

(01:02:08):
ready to go. They were both silent. Yours is a
long life to look back upon, Sir, said Carton wistfully.
I am in my seventy eighth year. You have been
useful all your life, steadily and constantly occupied, trusted, respected
and looked up to. I have been a man of
business ever since I have been a man. Indeed, I

(01:02:31):
may say that I was a man of business when
a boy see what a place you fill at seventy eight?
How many people will miss you when you leave it empty?
A solitary old bachelor answered mister Lorry, shaking his head.
There is nobody to weep for me. How can you
say that? Wouldn't she weep for you? Wouldn't her child? Yes, yes,

(01:02:56):
thank god, I didn't quite mean what I said. It
is a thing to thank God for? Is it not? Surely?
Surely if you could say, with truth to your own
solitary heart to night, I have secured to myself the
love and attachment, the gratitude or respect of no human creature.

(01:03:16):
I have won myself a tender place in no regard.
I have done nothing good or serviceable to be remembered
by your seventy eight years would be seventy eight heavy curses,
would they not, you say, truly, mister Carton, I think
they would be. Sidney turned his eyes again upon the fire,
and after a silence of a few moments, said, I

(01:03:36):
should like to ask you, does your childhood seem far off?
Do the days when you sat at your mother's knee
seen days of very long ago? Responding to his softened manner,
mister Lorry answered, twenty years back. Yes, at this time
of my life know for as I draw closer and
closer to the end, I travel in a circle nearer
and nearer to the beginning. It seems to be one

(01:04:00):
of the kind smoothings and preparings of the way. My
heart is touched now by many remembrances that had long
fallen asleep of my pretty young mother, and I so old,
and by many associations of the days when what we
call the world was not so real with me, and
my faults were not confirmed in me. I understand the feeling,

(01:04:20):
exclaimed Carton with a bright flush, and you are the
better for it, I hope. So. Carton terminated the conversation
here by rising to help him on with his outer coat.
But you, said mister Lorry, reverting to the theme you
are young, Yes, said Carton, I am not old, but
my young way was never the way to age. Enough

(01:04:43):
of me and of me I am sure, said mister Lorry.
Are you going out? I'll walk with you to her gate.
You know my vagabond and restless habits. If I should
prowl about the streets a long time, don't be uneasy.
I shall reappear in the morning. You go to the
court tomorrow, yes, unhappily, I shall be there, but only

(01:05:08):
as one of the crowd. My spy will find a
place for me. Take my arm, sir. Mister Lorry did so,
and they went downstairs and out in the streets. A
few minutes brought them to mister Lorry's destination. Carton left
him there, but lingered at a little distance, and turned
back to the gate again when it was shut, and

(01:05:28):
touched it. He had heard of her going to the
prison every day. She came out here, he said, looking
about him, turned this way. Must have trod on these
stones often. Let me follow in her steps. It was
ten o'clock at night when he stood before the prison
of La Force, where she had stood hundreds of times.
A little wood sawyer, having closed his shop, was smoking

(01:05:52):
his pipe at his shop door. Good Night, citizen, said
Sydney Carton, pausing and going by for the man eyed
him in inquisitively. Good night, citizen, How goes the republic?
You mean the guillotine? Not ill sixty three? Today? We
shall mount to one hundred soon. Samson and his men

(01:06:15):
complain sometimes of being exhausted. Ha ha ha. He is
so droll that Samson. Such a barber. Do you often
go to see him shave always every day? What a barber?
You have seen him at work? Never go and see

(01:06:38):
him when he has a good batch. Figure this to yourself, citizen.
He shaved the sixty three today in less than two pipes.
Less than two pipes, word of honor. As the grinning
little man held out the pipe he was smoking to
explain how he timed the executioner. Carton was so sensible
of a rising desire to strike the life out of

(01:06:59):
him that he turned away. But you are not English,
said the wood sawyer, though you wear English dress. Yes,
said Carton, pausing again and answering over his shoulder. You
speak like a Frenchman. I am an old student here, aha,
a perfect Frenchman. Good night Englishman, Good night citizen. But

(01:07:24):
go and see that droll dog, the little man persisted,
calling after him, and take a pipe with you. Sidney
had not gone far out of sight when he stopped
in the middle of the street under a glimmering lamp
and wrote with his pencil on a scrap of paper,
then traversing with the decided step of one who remembered
the way well, several dark and dirty streets, much dirtier

(01:07:46):
than usual for the best public thoroughfares, remained uncleansed in
those times of terror. He stopped at a chemist's shop
which the owner was closing with his own hands, A small,
dim crooked shop kept in a tortuous uphill thoroughfare by
a small, dim crooked man, giving this citizen two good

(01:08:07):
night as he confronted him at his counter. He laid
the scrap of paper before him. Few The chemist whistled
softly as he read it, Hi Hi Hi. Sydney Carton
took no heed, and the chemist said, for you, citizen,
for me, you will be careful to keep them separate. Citizen,

(01:08:30):
you know the consequences of mixing them perfectly. Certain small
packets were made and given to him. He put them
one by one in the breast of his inner coat,
counted out the money for them, and deliberately left the shop.
There is nothing more to do, said he, glancing upward
at the moon. Until tomorrow, I can't sleep. It was

(01:08:52):
not a reckless manner, the manner in which he said
these words aloud under the fast sailing clouds. Nor was
it more expressive of negligence than defiance. It was the
settled manner of a tired man who had wandered and
struggled and got lost, but who at length struck into
his road and saw its end. Long ago, when he
had been famous among his earliest competitors as a youth

(01:09:14):
of great promise, he had followed his father to the grave.
His mother had died years before. These solemn words which
had been read at his father's grave, arose in his
mind as he went down the dark streets, among the
heavy shadows, with the moon the cloud sailing on high
above him. I am the resurrection in the life set

(01:09:35):
the Lord, he that believeth in me, though he were dead,
Yet shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me,
shall never die. In a city dominated by the axe,
alone at night, with natural sorrow rising in him for
the sixty three who had been that day put to death,
and for tomorrow's victims then awaiting their doom in the
prisons and still of tomorrow's and tomorrows. The chain of

(01:09:58):
association that brought the word its home like a rusty
old ship's anchor from the deep, might have been easily found.
He did not seek it, but repeated them, and went
on with a solemn interest in the lighted windows where
the people were going to rest, forgetful through a few
calm hours of the horror surrounding them, in the towers
of the churches, where no prayers were said. For the

(01:10:21):
popular revulsion had even traveled that length of self destruction
from years of priestly impostors, plunderers, and profligates in the
distant burial places, reserved as they rode upon the gates
for eternal sleep, in the abounding jails, and in the
streets along which the sixties rolled to a death which
had become so common and material that no sorrowful story

(01:10:43):
of a haunting spirit ever arose among the people out
of all the working of the guillotine. With a solemn
interest in the whole life and death of the city,
settling down to its short nightly pause in fury, Sydney,
Carton crossed the Seine again for the lighter streets. Few
coaches were abroad, for riders in coaches were liable to
be suspected, and gentility hid its head in red nightcaps

(01:11:06):
and put on heavy shoes and trudged. But the theaters
were all well filled, and the people poured cheerfully out.
As he passed and went chatting home. At one of
the theater doors, there was a little girl with a mother,
looking for a way across the street through the mud.
He carried the child over, and before the timid arm

(01:11:26):
was loosed from his neck, asked her for a kiss.
I am the Resurrection and the life set the Lord.
He that believeth in me, though he were dead, Yet
shall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me,
shall never die. Now that the streets were quiet and
the night wore on, the words were in the echoes
of his feet, and were in the air, perfectly calm

(01:11:48):
and steady. He sometimes repeated them to himself as he walked,
but he heard them always the night wore out, And
as he stood upon the bridge, listening to the water
as it splashed the ros ever walls of the island
of Paris, where the picturesque confusion of houses and cathedral
shone bright in the light of the moon, the day
came coldly, looking like a dead face out of the sky.

(01:12:12):
Then the night, with the moon and the stars, turned
pale and died, and for a little while it seemed
as if creation were delivered over to death's dominion. But
the glorious sun rising seemed to strike those words that
burden of the night straight and warm to his heart
in its long, bright rays, and looking along them with

(01:12:32):
reverently shaded eyes, a bridge of light appeared to span
the air between him and the sun, while the river
sparkled under it, the strong tide so swift, so deep
and certain, was like a congenial friend. In the morning stillness,
he walked by the stream, far from the houses, and
in the light and warmth of the sun, fell asleep

(01:12:53):
on the bank. When he awoke and was afoot again,
he lingered there yet a little longer, watching an eddy
that turned in turned purposeless, until the stream absorbed it
and carried it on to the sea. That, like me,
a trading boat with a sail of the softened color
of a dead leaf, then glided into his view, floated
by him, and died away as its silent track in

(01:13:14):
the water disappeared. The prayer that had broken up out
of his heart for a merciful consideration of all his
poor blindnesses and errors, ended in the words I am
the Resurrection and the life. Mister Lorry was already out
when he got back, and it was easy to surmise
where the good old man was gone. Sydney Carton drank
nothing but a little coffee, ate some bread, and, having

(01:13:36):
washed and changed to refresh himself, went out to the
place of trial. The court was all astir in a
bus when the black sheep, whom many fell away from
in dread, pressed him into an obscure corner among the crowd.
Mister Lorry was there, and doctor Manette was there. She
was there, sitting beside her father. When her husband was

(01:13:58):
brought in, she turned the look of him, so sustaining,
so encouraging, so full of admiring love and pitying tenderness,
yet so courageous for his sake, that it called the
healthy blood into his face, brightened his glance, and animated
his heart. If there had been any eyes to notice
the influence of her look on Sydney Carton, it would

(01:14:18):
have been seen to be the same influence. Exactly before
that unjust tribunal, there was little or no order of
procedure insuring to any accused person any reasonable hearing. There
could have been no such revolution if all laws, forms,
and ceremonies had not first been so monstrously abused, that
the suicidal vengeance of the revolution was to scatter them

(01:14:41):
all to the winds. Every eye was turned to the jury,
the same determined patriots and good republicans as yesterday and
the day before, and tomorrow and the day after. Eager
and prominent among them one man with a craving face
and his fingers perpetually hovering about his lips, whose appearance
gave great satisfaction to the spectators. A life thirsting, cannibal looking,

(01:15:06):
bloody minded juryman the Jacques three of a s. T Antoine,
the whole jury as a jury of dogs, and paneled
to try the deer. Every eye then turned to the
five judges and the public prosecutor, no favorable leaning in
that quarter to day a fell uncompromising murderous business. Meaning
there Every eye then sought some other eye in the

(01:15:29):
crowd and gleamed at it approvingly, and heads nodded at
one another, before bending forward with a strained attention. Charles
Evremond called Darnay released yesterday, re accused and retaken yesterday,
indictment delivered to him last night, suspected and denounced enemy
of the republic, aristocrat, one of a family of tyrants,

(01:15:53):
one of a race prescribed for that they had used
their abolished privileges to the infamous oppression of the people.
Charles Evremond called Darnay, in right of such proscription, absolutely
dead in law. To this effect, in as few or
fewer words, the public prosecutor the President asked, was the
accused openly denounced or secretly openly President, by whom three

(01:16:20):
voices Ernest defarge Wine Vender of a st Antoine, Good
Therese defarge his wife good Alexander Manette, physician. A great
uproar took place in the court, and in the midst
of it, Doctor Manette was seen, pale and trembling, standing

(01:16:40):
where he had been seated. President, I indignantly protest to
you that this is a forgery and a fraud. You
know the accused to be the husband of my daughter.
My daughter and those dear to her are far dearer
to me than my life. Who and where is the
false conspirator who says that I denounced the husband my child.

(01:17:01):
Citizen Manette, be tranquil. To fail in submission to the
authority of the tribunal would be to put yourself out
of law. As to what is dearer to you than life.
Nothing can be so dear to a good citizen as
the republic loud acclamations hailed this rebuke. The President rang
his bell, and with warmth resumed. If the Republic should

(01:17:23):
demand of you the sacrifice of your child herself, you
would have no duty but to sacrifice her. Listen to
what is to follow in the meanwhile be silent. Frantic
acclamations were again raised. Doctor Manette sat down with his
eyes looking around and his lips trembling. His daughter drew
closer to him. The craving man on the jury rubbed

(01:17:45):
his hands together and restored the usual hand to his mouth.
Defarge was produced when the court was quiet enough to
admit of his being heard, and rapidly expounded the story
of the imprisonment and of his having been a mere
boy in the doctor, sir, and of the release and
of the state of the prisoner when released and delivered
to him. This short examination followed, for the court was

(01:18:08):
quick with its work. You did good service at the
taking of the Bastille citizen. I believe so. Here, an
excited woman screeched from the crowd. You were one of
the best patriots there. Why not say so? You were
a cannoneer that day there, and you were among the
first to enter the accursed fortress when it fell. Patriots,

(01:18:30):
I speak the truth. It was the Vengeance who, amidst
the warm commendations of the audience, thus assisted the proceedings.
The President rang his bell, but the Vengeance, warming with encouragement,
shrieked I defy that bell, wherein she was likewise much commended,
informed the tribunal of what you did that day within
the bastille, citizen, I knew, said Defarge, looking down at

(01:18:55):
his wife, who stood at the bottom of the steps
on which he was raised, looking steadily up at him.
I knew that this prisoner of whom I speak had
been confined in a cell known as one hundred and
five North Tower. I knew it from himself. He knew
himself by no other name than one hundred and five
North Tower when he made shoes under my care. As

(01:19:17):
I serve my gun that day, I resolve, when the
place shall fall, to examine that cell. It falls, I
mount to the cell with a fellow citizen who is
one of the jury. Directed by a jailer, I examine
it very closely. In a hole in the chimney, where
a stone has been worked out and replaced, I find

(01:19:38):
a written paper. This is that written paper. I have
made it my business to examine some specimens of the
writing of doctor Manette. This is the writing of doctor Manette.
I confide this paper in the writing of doctor Manette,
to the hands of the President. Let it be read
in a dead silence and stillness, the prisoner under trial

(01:19:59):
looking lovingly at his wife, his wife only looking from
him to look with solicitude at her father, Doctor Manette,
keeping his eyes fixed on the reader, Madame Defarge, never
taking hers from the prisoner, Defarge, never taking his from
his feasting wife, and all the other eyes there intent
upon the doctor, who saw none of them. The paper
was read as follows, Chapter ten, The Substance of the

(01:20:22):
Shadow Eye. Alexander Manette, unfortunate physician, native of Beauvais, and
afterwards resident in Paris, write this melancholy paper in my
doleful cell in the Bastille during the last month of
the year seventeen sixty seven. I write it at stolen intervals,
under every difficulty I designed to secrete it in the

(01:20:43):
wall of the chimney, where I have slowly and laboriously
made a place of concealment for it. Some pitying hand
may find it there when I, in my sorrows, are dust.
These words are formed by the rusty iron point with
which I write with difficulty, in scrapings of soot and
charcoal from the chimney mixed with blood. In the last
month of the tenth year of my captivity, hope has

(01:21:06):
quite departed from my breast. I know from terrible warnings.
I have noted in myself that my reason will not
long remain unimpaired. But I solemnly declare that I am
at this time in the possession of my right mind,
that my memory is exact and circumstantial, and that I
write the truth as I shall answer for these my
last recorded words, whether they be ever read by men

(01:21:26):
or not, at the eternal judgment seat. One cloudy moonlight
night in the third week of December, I think the
twenty second of the month, in the year seventeen fifty seven,
I was walking on a retired part of the quay
by the Saying for the refreshment of the frosty Air,
at an hour's distance from my place of residence in
the street of the School of Medicine, when a carriage

(01:21:48):
came along behind me, driven very fast. As I stood
aside to let that carriage pass, apprehensive that it might
otherwise run me down, a head was put out at
the window, and a void called to the driver to stop.
The carriage stopped as soon as the driver could rein
in his horses, and the same voice called to me
by my name, I answered. The carriage was then so

(01:22:12):
far in advance of me that two gentlemen had time
to open the door and alight before I came up
with it. I observed that they were both wrapped in
cloaks and appeared to conceal themselves as they stood side
by side near the carriage door. I also observed that
they both looked of about my own age, or rather younger,
and that they were greatly alike in stature, manner, voice,

(01:22:35):
and as far as I could see face two. You
are doctor Manette, said one. I am doctor Manette, formerly
of Beauvais, said the other, the young physician, originally an
expert surgeon, who within the last year or two has
made a rising reputation in Paris. Gentlemen, I returned, I

(01:22:55):
am that doctor Manette, of whom you speak so graciously.
We have been to your residence, said the first, and,
not being so fortunate as to find you there, and
being informed that you were probably walking in this direction,
we followed in the hope of overtaking you. Will you
please to enter the carriage. The manner of both was imperious,

(01:23:16):
and they both moved as these words were spoken so
as to place me between themselves and the carriage door.
They were armed. I was not gentlemen, said I pardon me,
But I usually inquire, who does me the honor to
seek my assistance? And what is the nature of the
case to which I am summoned. The reply to this

(01:23:37):
was made by him who had spoken. Second, Doctor, your
clients are people of condition as to the nature of
the case. Our confidence in your skill assures us that
you will ascertain it for yourself better than we can
describe it enough, Will you please to enter the carriage.
I could do nothing but comply, and I entered it

(01:23:57):
in silence. They both entered after me, the last springing in.
After putting up the steps, the carriage turned about and
drove on at its former speed. I repeat this conversation
exactly as it occurred. I have no doubt that it
is word for word the same. I describe everything exactly

(01:24:19):
as it took place, constraining my mind not to wander
from the task where I make the broken marks that
follow here, I leave off for the time and put
my paper in its hiding place. The carriage left the
streets behind, passed the north barrier, and emerged upon the
country road at two thirds of a league from the barrier.

(01:24:39):
I did not estimate the distance at that time, but afterwards,
when I traversed it, it struck out of the main
avenue and presently stopped at a solitary house. We all
three alighted and walked by a damp, soft footpath in
a garden where a neglected fountain had overflowed to the
door of the house. It was not opened immediately in
answer to the ringing of the bell, and one of

(01:25:01):
my two conductors struck the man who opened it with
his heavy riding glove across the face. There was nothing
in this action to attract my particular attention, for I
had seen common people struck more commonly than dogs. But
the other of the two, being angry, likewise struck the
man in like manner with his arm. The look and

(01:25:21):
bearing of the brothers were then so exactly alike that
I then first perceived them to be twin brothers. From
the time of our alighting at the outer gate, which
we found locked, and which one of the brothers had
opened to admit us and had relocked, I had heard
cries proceeding from an upper chamber. I was conducted to
this chamber strait, the cries growing louder as we ascended

(01:25:43):
the stairs, and I found a patient in a high
fever of the brain, lying on a bed. The patient
was a woman of great beauty and young, assuredly not
much past twenty. Her hair was torn and ragged, and
her arms were bound to her sides with sashes and handkerchiefs.
I noticed that these bonds were all portions of a

(01:26:03):
gentleman's dress. On one of them, which was a fringed
scarf for a dress of ceremony, I saw the armorial
bearings of a noble and the letter E. I saw
this within the first minute of my contemplation of the patient,
for in her restless striving, she had turned over on
her face on the edge of the bed, had drawn
the end of the scarf into her mouth, and was

(01:26:24):
in danger of suffocation. My first act was to put
out my hand to relieve her breathing, and, in moving
the scarf aside, the embroidery in the corner caught my sight.
I turned her gently over, placed my hands upon her
breast to calm her and keep her down, and looked
into her face. Her eyes were dilated and wild, and

(01:26:44):
she constantly uttered piercing shrieks and repeated the words my husband,
my father, and my brother, and then counted up to
twelve and said hush. For an instant and no more.
She would pause to listen, and then the piercing shrieks
would begin again, and she would repeat the cry my husband,
my father, and my brother, and would count up to

(01:27:06):
twelve and say hush. There was no variation in the
order or the manner. There was no cessation, but the
regular moments pause in the utterance of these sounds. How long,
I asked, has this lasted? To distinguish the brothers, I
will call them the elder and the younger. By the elder,
I mean him who exercised the most authority. It was

(01:27:29):
the elder who replied, since about this hour last night.
She has a husband, a father, and a brother a brother.
I do not address her brother, he answered, with great contempt. No,
she has some recent association with the number twelve. The
younger brother impatiently rejoined with twelve o'clock. See, gentlemen, said

(01:27:52):
I still keeping my hands upon her breast. How useless
I am, as you have brought me. If I had
known what I I was coming to see. I could
have come, provided, as it is, time must be lost.
There are no medicines to be obtained in this lonely place.
The elder brother looked to the younger, who said, haughtily,

(01:28:13):
there is a case of medicines here, and brought it
from a closet and put it on the table. I
opened some of the bottles, smelt them, and put the
stoppers to my lips. If I had wanted to use
anything save narcotic medicines that were poisons in themselves, I
would not have administered any of those. Do you doubt them,
asked the younger brother. You see, monsieur, I am going

(01:28:36):
to use them, I replied, and said no more. I
made the patient swallow with great difficulty, and, after many efforts,
the dose that I desired to give, as I intended
to repeat it after a while, and as it was
necessary to watch its influence. I then sat down by
the side of the bed. There was a timid and

(01:28:57):
suppressed woman in attendance, wife of the man down stairs,
who had retreated into a corner. The house was damp
and decayed, indifferently furnished, evidently recently occupied, and temporarily used.
Some thick old hangings had been nailed up before the
windows to deaden the sound of the shrieks. They continued

(01:29:17):
to be uttered in their regular succession with the cry
my husband, my father, and my brother, the counting up
to twelve and hush. The frenzy was so violent that
I had not unfastened the bandages restraining the arms, but
I had looked to them to see that they were
not painful. The only spark of encouragement in the case

(01:29:37):
was that my hand upon the sufferer's breast had this
much soothing influence that for minutes at a time it
tranquilized the figure. It had no effect upon the cries.
No pendulum could be more regular for the reason that
my hand had this effect. I assume I had sat
by the side of the bed for half an hour
with the two brothers looking on, before the elder said

(01:29:59):
there is an another patient. I was startled and asked,
is it a pressing case? You had better see? He
carelessly answered and took up a light. The other patient
lay in a back room across a second staircase, which
was a species of loft over a stable. There was
a low plastered ceiling to a part of it. The

(01:30:20):
rest was open to the ridge of the tiled roof,
and there were beams across. Hay and straw were stored
in that portion of the place, faggots for firing, and
a heap of apples in sand. I had to pass
through that part to get at the other. My memory
is circumstantial and unshaken. I try it with these details,

(01:30:41):
and I see them all in this my cell and
the bastille. Near the close of the tenth year of
my captivity, as I saw them all that night, on
some hay on the ground, with a cushion thrown under
his head, lay a handsome peasant boy, a boy of
not more than seventeen at the most. He lay on
his back, with his teeth set, his right hand clenched

(01:31:02):
on his breast, and his glaring eyes looking straight upward.
I could not see where his wound was as I
kneeled on one knee over him, but I could see
that he was dying of a wound from a sharp point.
I am a doctor, my poor fellow, said, I let
me examine it. I do not want it examined, he answered,
let it be. It was under his hand, and I

(01:31:24):
soothed him to let me move his hand away. The
wound was a sword thrust received from twenty to twenty
for hours before, but no skill could have saved him
if it had been looked to without delay. He was
then dying fast. As I turned my eyes to the
elder brother, I saw him looking down at this handsome boy,
whose life was ebbing out, as if he were a

(01:31:46):
wounded bird or hare or rabbit, not at all, as
if he were a fellow creature. How has this been done, monsieur,
said I. A crazed young common dog, a serf, forced
my brother to upon him, and has fallen by my
brother's sword like a gentleman. There was no touch of pity, sorrow,

(01:32:07):
or kindred humanity in this answer. The speaker seemed to
acknowledge that it was inconvenient to have that different order
of creature dying there, and that it would have been
better if he had died in the usual obscure routine
of his vermin kind. He was quite incapable of any
compassionate feeling about the boy or about his fate. The
boy's eyes had slowly moved to him as he had spoken,

(01:32:29):
and they now slowly moved to me. Doctor. They are
very proud, these nobles. But we common dogs are proud too.
Sometimes they plunder us, outrage us, beat us, kill us,
but we have a little pride left. Sometimes she have
you seen her? Doctor? The shrieks and the cries were

(01:32:50):
audible there, though subdued by the distance. He referred to
them as if she were lying in our presence. I said,
I have seen her. She is my sister, doctor. They
have had their shameful rights, these nobles, in the modesty,
in virtue of our sisters, many years. But we have
had good girls among us. I know it, and have

(01:33:13):
heard my father say so. She was a good girl.
She was betrothed to a good young man too, a
tenant of his. We were all tenants of his. That
man's who stands there. The other is his brother, the
worst of a bad race. It was with the greatest
difficulty that the boy gathered bodily force to speak, But

(01:33:35):
his spirit spoke with a dreadful emphasis. We were so
robbed by that man who stands there, as all we
common dogs are by those superior beings. Taxed by him
without mercy, obliged to work for him without pay, obliged
to grind our corn of his mill, obliged to feed
scores of his tame birds on our wretched crops, and
forbidden for our lives to keep a single tame bird

(01:33:57):
of our own. Pillaged and plundered to that degree that
when we chanced to have a bit of meat, we
ate it in fear, with the door barred and the
shutters closed, that his people should not see it and
take it from us. I say, we were so robbed
and hunted, and were made so poor, that our father
told us it was a dreadful thing to bring a
child into the world, and that what we should most

(01:34:19):
pray for was that our women might be barren in
our miserable race die out. I had never before seen
the sense of being oppressed bursting forth like a fire.
I had supposed that it must be latent in the
people somewhere, but I had never seen it break out
until I saw it in the dying boy. Nevertheless, doctor

(01:34:39):
my sister married. He was ailing at that time, poor fellow,
and she married her lover that she might tend and
comfort him in our cottage, our dog hut, as that
man would call it. She had not been married many
weeks when that man's brother saw her and admired her
and asked that man to lend her to him, for
what are husbands among us? He was willing enough, But

(01:35:02):
my sister was good and virtuous, and hated his brother
with a hatred as strong as mine. What did the
two then to persuade her husband to use his influence
with her to make her willing. The boy's eyes, which
had been fixed on mine, slowly turned to the looker on,
and I saw in the two faces that all he
said was true. The two opposing kinds of pride confronting

(01:35:25):
one another, I can see even in this bastille, the
gentleman's all negligent indifference, the peasants all trodden down sentiment
and passionate revenge. You know, doctor, that it is among
the rights of these nobles to harness us common dogs,
to carts and drive us. They so harnessed him and
drove him. You know that it is among their rights

(01:35:47):
to keep us in their grounds all night, quieting the frogs,
in order that their noble sleep may not be disturbed.
They kept him out in the unwholesome mists at night,
and ordered him back into his harness in the day.
But he was not persuaded. No taken out of harness
one day at noon to feed if he could find food.

(01:36:08):
He sobbed twelve times, once for every stroke of the bell,
and died on her bosom. Nothing human could have held
life in the boy, but his determination to tell all
his wrong He forced back the gathering shadows of death
as he forced his clenched right hand to remain clenched
and to cover his wound. Then, with that man's permission,

(01:36:29):
and even with his aid, his brother took her away.
In spite of what I know she must have told
his brother, And what that is will not be long
unknown to you, doctor, if it is now, His brother
took her away for his pleasure and diversion for a
little while. I saw her pass me on the road.
When I took the tidings home our father's heart burst,

(01:36:50):
he never spoke one of the words that filled it.
I took my young sister, for I have another, to
a place beyond the reach of this man, and where
at least she will never be his vassal. Then I
tracked the brother here, and last night climbed in a
common dog, but sword in hand. Dot where is the

(01:37:10):
loft window? It was somewhere here the room was darkening.
To his sight. The world was narrowing around him. I
glanced about me and saw that the hay and straw
were trampled over the floor, as if there had been
a struggle. She heard me and ran in. I told
her not to come near us till he was dead.

(01:37:31):
He came in and first tossed me some pieces of money,
then struck at me with a whip. But I, though
a common dog, so struck at him as to make
him draw. Let him break into as many pieces as
he will. The sword that he stained with my common blood.
He drew to defend himself, thrust at me with all
his skill for his life. My glance had fallen but

(01:37:53):
a few moments before on the fragments of a broken
sword lying among the hay. That weapon was a gentleman.
In another place lay an old sword that seemed to
have been a soldier's. Now, lift me up, doctor, lift
me up. Where is he? He is not here? I said,
supporting the boy, and thinking that he referred to the brother.

(01:38:17):
He proud as these nobles are, He is afraid to
see me. Where is the man who was here? Turn
my face to him? I did so, raising the boy's
head against my knee, but invested for the moment with
extraordinary power. He raised himself, completely obliging me to rise too,

(01:38:37):
or I could not have still supported him, Marquis said.
The boy turned to him with his eyes opened wide
and his right hand raised. In the days when all
these things are to be answered, for I summon you
and yours to the last of your bad race, to
answer for them. I mark this cross of blood upon
you as a sign that I do it. In the

(01:38:58):
days when all these things are to be answered, for
I summon your brother, the worst of the bad race,
to answer for them separately, I marked this cross of
blood upon him as a sign that I do it. Twice.
He put his hands to the wound in his breast,
and with his forefinger drew across in the air. He
stood for an instant with the finger yet raised, and

(01:39:20):
as it dropped, he dropped with it, and I laid
him down dead. When I returned to the bedside of
the young woman, I found her raving in precisely the
same order of continuity. I knew that this might last
for many hours, and that it would probably end in
the silence of the grave. I repeated the medicines I
had given her, and I sat at the side of

(01:39:41):
the bed until the night was far advanced. She never
abetted the piercing quality of her shrieks, never stumbled in
the distinctness or the order of her words. They were
always my husband, my father, and my brother. One two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven,

(01:40:03):
twelve Hush. This lasted twenty six hours from the time
when I first saw her. I had come and gone twice,
and was again sitting by her when she began to falter.
I did what little could be done to assist that opportunity,
and by and by she sank into a lethargy and
lay like the dead. It was as if the wind

(01:40:25):
and rain had lolled at last after a long and
fearful storm. I released her arms and called the woman
to assist me to compose her figure and the dress
she had torn. It was then that I knew her
condition to be that of one in whom the first
expectations of being a mother have arisen. And it was
then that I lost the little hope I had had
of her. Is she dead? Asked the marquis, whom I

(01:40:48):
will still describe as the elder brother, coming booted into
the room from his horse. Not dead, said I, but
like to die. What strength there is in these common bodies,
he said, looking down at her with some curiosity, There
is prodigious strength, I answered him in sorrow and despair.
He first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them.

(01:41:12):
He moved a chair with his foot near to mine,
ordered the woman away, and said, in a subdued voice, doctor,
finding my brother in this difficulty, with these hinds, I
recommended that your aid should be invited. Your reputation is high,
and as a young man with your fortune to make,
you are probably mindful of your interest. The things that

(01:41:33):
you see here are things to be seen and not
spoken of. I listened to the patient's breathing and avoided answering,
do you honor me with your attention? Doctor monsieur, said I.
In my profession the communications of patience are always received
in confidence. I was guarded in my answer, for I

(01:41:53):
was troubled in my mind with what I had heard
and seen. Her breathing was so difficult to trace that
I carefully tried the pulse and the heart. There was
life and no more. Looking round. As I resumed my seat,
I found both the brother's intent upon me. I write
with so much difficulty. The cold is so severe. I

(01:42:14):
am so fearful of being detected and consigned to an
underground cell and total darkness, that I must abridge this narrative.
There is no confusion or failure in my memory. It
can recall and could detail every word that was ever
spoken between me and those brothers. She lingered for a
week towards the last I could understand some few syllables

(01:42:36):
that she said to me by placing my ear close
to her lips. She asked me where she was, and
I told her who I was, and I told her
it was in vain that I asked her for her
family name. She faintly shook her head upon the pillow
and kept her secret, as the boy had done. I
had no opportunity of asking her any question until I

(01:42:59):
had told the brother she was sinking fast and could
not live another day. Until then, though no one was
ever presented to her consciousness save the woman and myself,
one or other of them had always jealously sat behind
the curtain at the head of the bed when I
was there, But when it came to that, they seemed
careless what communication I might hold with her, as if

(01:43:20):
the thought passed through my mind I were dying too.
I always observed that their pride bitterly resented the younger brothers,
as I call him, having crossed swords with a peasant,
and that peasant a boy. The only consideration that appeared
to affect the mind of either of them was the
consideration that this was highly degrading to the family and
was ridiculous. As often as I caught the younger brother's eyes,

(01:43:44):
their expression reminded me that he disliked me deeply, for
knowing what I knew from the boy. He was smoother
and more polite to me than the elder. But I
saw this. I also saw that I was an incumbrance
in the mind of the elder too. My patient died
two hours before midnight, at a time by my watch,
answering almost to the minute when I had first seen her.

(01:44:08):
I was alone with her when her forlorn young head
drooped gently on one side, and all her earthly wrongs
and sorrows ended. The brothers were waiting in a room downstairs,
impatient to ride away. I had heard them alone at
the bedside, striking their boots with their riding whips and
loitering up and down. At last, she is dead, said

(01:44:30):
the elder. When I went in. She is dead, said I.
I congratulate you, my brother, were his words, as he
turned round. He had before offered me money, which I
had postponed taking. He now gave me a rouleau of gold.
I took it from his hand, but laid it on
the table. I had considered the question and had resolved

(01:44:52):
to accept nothing. Pray, excuse me, said I, under the circumstances. No.
They exchanged looks, but bent their heads to me as
I bent mine to them, and we parted without another
word on either side. I am weary, weary, weary, worn
down by misery. I cannot read what I have written
with this gaunt hand. Early in the morning, the rouleau

(01:45:15):
of gold was left at my door, in a little
box with my name on the outside. From the first
I had anxiously considered what I ought to do. I
decided that day to write privately to the Minister, stating
the nature of the two cases to which I had
been summoned and the place to which I had gone,
in effect stating all the circumstances. I knew what court

(01:45:38):
influence was and what the immunities of the nobles were.
And I expected that the matter would never be heard of.
But I wished to relieve my own mind. I had
kept the matter a profound secret, even from my wife,
and this too I resolved to state in my letter.
I had no apprehension whatever of my real danger, but

(01:45:58):
I was conscious that there might be danger for others
if others were compromised by possessing the knowledge that I possessed.
I was much engaged that day and could not complete
my letter that night. I rose long before my usual
time next morning to finish it. It was the last
day of the year. The letter was lying before me,

(01:46:19):
just completed when I was told that a lady waited
who wished to see me. I am growing more and
more unequal to the task I have set myself. It
is so cold, so dark, My senses are so benumbed,
and the gloom upon me is so dreadful. The lady
was young, engaging and handsome, but not marked for long life.

(01:46:41):
She was in great agitation. She presented herself to me
as the wife of the Marquis S. T Evremonde. I
connected the title by which the boy had addressed the
elder brother with the initial letter embroidered on the scarf,
and had no difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that
I had seen that nobleman very lately. My memory is

(01:47:01):
still accurate, but I cannot write the words of our conversation.
I suspect that I am watched more closely than I was,
and I know not at what times I may be watched.
She had in part suspected and in part discovered the
main facts of the cruel story, of her husband's share
in it, and my being resorted to. She did not

(01:47:21):
know that the girl was dead. Her hope had been,
she said, in great distress, to show her in secret
a woman's sympathy. Her hope had been to avert the
wrath of heaven from a house that had long been
hateful to the suffering many. She had reasons for believing
that there was a young sister living, and her greatest
desire was to help that sister. I could tell her

(01:47:44):
nothing but that there was such a sister. Beyond that,
I knew nothing. Her inducement to come to me, relying
on my confidence, had been the hope that I could
tell her the name and place of abode, Whereas to
this wretched hour I am ignorant of both. These scraps
of paper fail me. One was taken from me with

(01:48:04):
a warning yesterday. I must finish my record to day.
She was a good, compassionate lady and not happy in
her marriage. How could she be? The brother distrusted and
disliked her, and his influence was all opposed to her.
She stood in dread of him, and in dread of
her husband too. When I handed her down to the door,

(01:48:26):
there was a child, a pretty boy from two to
three years old, in her carriage. For his sake, doctor,
she said, pointing to him in tears, I would do
all I can to make what poor amends I can.
He will never prosper in his inheritance otherwise. I have
a presentiment that if no other innocent atonement is made

(01:48:46):
for this, it will one day be required of him
what I have left to call my own. It is
little beyond the worth of a few jewels. I will
make it the first charge of his life to bestow,
with the compassion and lamenting of his dead mother on
this injured family. If the sister can be discovered. She
kissed the boy and said, caressing him. It is for

(01:49:06):
thine own dear sake, thou wilt be faithful, Little Charles,
the child answered her bravely yes. I kissed her hand,
and she took him in her arms and went away,
caressing him. I never saw her more, As she had
mentioned her husband's name in the faith that I knew it,
I added no mention of it to my letter. I

(01:49:27):
sealed my letter, and, not trusting it out of my
own hands, delivered it myself that day. That night, the
last night of the year, towards nine o'clock, a man
in a black dress rang at my gate, demanded to
see me, and softly followed my servant, Bernice Defarge, a
youth upstairs. When my servant came into the room where

(01:49:48):
I sat with my wife, O, my wife, beloved of
my heart, my fair young English wife, we saw the
man who was supposed to be at the gate, standing
silent behind him an urgent case in the rust Honore.
He said it would not detain me. He had a
coach in waiting. It brought me here, It brought me

(01:50:09):
to my grave. When I was clear of the house,
a black muffler was drawn tightly over my mouth from behind,
and my arms were pinioned. The two brothers crossed the
road from a dark corner and identified me with a
single gesture. The marquis took from his pocket the letter
I had written, showed it me, burnt it in the
light of a lantern that was held, and extinguished the

(01:50:32):
ashes with his foot. Not a word was spoken. I
was brought here. I was brought to my living grave.
If it had pleased God to put it in the
hard heart of either of the brothers in all these
frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my dearest wife,
so much as to let me know by a word
whether alive or dead, I might have thought that He

(01:50:53):
had not quite abandoned them. But now I believe that
the mark of the red Cross is fatal to them,
and that they have no part in His mercies, and
them and their descendants to the last of their race. I,
Alexander Manette, unhappy prisoner, do this last night of the
year seventeen sixty seven, in my unbearable agony, denounced to

(01:51:14):
the times when all these things shall be answered. For
I denounced them to heaven and to earth. A terrible
sound arose when the reading of this document was done
a sound of craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate
in it but blood. The narrative called up the most
revengeful passions of the time, and there was not a
head in a nation, but must have dropped before it.

(01:51:36):
Little need, in presence of that tribunal and that auditory,
to show how the defarges had not made the paper
public with the other captured Bastille memorials born in procession,
and had kept it biding their time. Little need to
show that this detested family name had long been anathematized
by Saint Antoine and was wrought into the fatal register.

(01:51:58):
The man never trod ground whose virtue, jews, and services
would have sustained him in that place that day against
such denunciation. And all the worse for the doomed man
that the denouncer was a well known citizen, his own
attached friend, the father of his wife. One of the
frenzied aspirations of the populace was for imitations of the

(01:52:18):
questionable public virtues of antiquity, and for sacrifices and self
immolations on the people's altar. Therefore, when the President said else,
had his own head quivered on his shoulders, that the
good physician of the Republic would deserve better still of
the republic by rooting out an obnoxious family of aristocrats,
and would doubtless feel a sacred glow and joy in

(01:52:39):
making his daughter a widow and her child an orphan.
There was wild excitement, patriotic fervor, not a touch of
human sympathy, much influence around him, as that doctor murmured,
Madame Defarge, smiling to the vengeance. Save him, now, my doctor,
save him. At every juryman's vote there was a another,

(01:53:01):
and another roar and roar, unanimously voted at heart and
by dissent, an aristocrat, an enemy of the republic, a
notorious oppressor of the people. Back to the conciergerie, and
death within four and twenty hours. Chapter eleven. Thust, the
wretched wife of the innocent man, thus doomed to die,

(01:53:24):
fell under the sentence as if she had been mortally stricken.
But she uttered no sound, and so strong was the
voice within her representing that it was she of all
the world who must uphold him in his misery and
not augment it, that it quickly raised her even from
that shock, the judges having to take part in a
public demonstration out of doors, the tribunal adjourned. The quick

(01:53:47):
noise and movement of the court's emptying itself by many
passages had not ceased when Lucie stood, stretching out her
arms towards her husband, with nothing in her face but
love and consolation. If I might touch him, if I
might embrace him once, Oh good citizens, if you would
have so much compassion for us. There was but a

(01:54:08):
jailer left, along with two of the four men who
had taken him last night, and Barsad. The people had
all poured out to the show in the streets. Barsad
proposed to the rest, let her embrace him. Then, it
is but a moment. It was silently acquiesced in, and
they passed her over the seats in the hall to
a raised place where he, by leaning over the dock,

(01:54:31):
could fold her in his arms. Farewell, dear darling, of
my soul, my parting, blessing on my love. We shall
meet again where the weary are at rest. They were
her husband's words as he held her to his bosom.
I can bear it, dear Charles, I am supported from above.
Don't suffer for me A parting blessing for our child.

(01:54:55):
I send it to her by you, I kiss her
by you, I say farewell to her by you, my husband.
No a moment he was tearing himself apart from her.
We shall not be separated long. I feel that this
will break my heart by and by, but I will
do my duty while I can, and when I leave her,

(01:55:18):
God will raise up friends for her, as he did
for me. Her father had followed her and would have
fallen on his knees to both of them. But that
darnay put out a hand and seized him, crying, no, no,
what have you done? What have you done that you
should kneel to us? We know now what a struggle
you made of old We know now what you underwent

(01:55:39):
when you suspected my descent, and when you knew it.
We know now the natural antipathy you strove against and
conquered for her dear sake. We thank you with all
our hearts and all our love and duty. Heaven be
with you. Her father's only answer was to draw his
hands through his white hair and wring them with a
shriek of anger. Wish it could not be otherwise, said

(01:56:03):
the prisoner. All things have worked together as they have
fallen out. It was the always vain endeavor to discharge
my poor mother's trust that first brought my fatal presents
near you. Good could never come of such evil. A
happier end was not in nature to so unhappy a beginning.
Be comforted, and forgive me, Heaven bless you. As he

(01:56:26):
was drawn away, his wife released him and stood looking
after him, with her hands touching one another, in the
attitude of prayer, and with a radiant look upon her face,
in which there was even a comforting smile. As he
went out at the prisoner's door, she turned, laid her
head lovingly on her father's breast, tried to speak to him,
and fell at his feet zero six eight six m original. Then,

(01:56:49):
issuing from the obscure corner from which he had never moved,
Sydney Carton came and took her up. Only her father
and mister Lorry were with her. His arm trembled as
it raised her and supported her head. Yet there was
an air about him that was not all of pity,
that had a flush of pride in it. Shall I
take her to a coach, I shall never feel her weight.

(01:57:12):
He carried her lightly to the door and laid her
tenderly down in a coach. Her father and their old
friend got into it, and he took his seat beside
the driver. When they arrived at the gateway, where he
had paused in the dark not many hours before, to
picture to himself on which of the rough stones of
the street her feet had trodden, he lifted her again
and carried her up the staircase to their rooms. There

(01:57:36):
he laid her down on a couch, where her child
and Miss Pross wept over her. Don't recall her to herself,
he said softly to the latter. She is better, so
don't revive her to consciousness while she only faints. Oh Carton, Carton,
Dear Carton, cried little Lucie, springing up and throwing her

(01:57:57):
arms passionately round him in a burst of grief. Now
that you have come, I think you will do something
to help mamma, something to save Papa. Oh look at her,
dear Carton, Can you, of all the people who love her,
bear to see her? So he bent over the child
and laid her blooming cheek against his face. He put

(01:58:19):
her gently from him and looked at her unconscious mother.
Before I go, he said, and paused, I may kiss her.
It was remembered afterwards that when he bent down and
touched her face with his lips, he murmured some words.
The child who was nearest to him, told them afterwards,
and told her grandchildren, when she was a handsome old lady,

(01:58:40):
that she heard him say, a life you love. When
he had gone out into the next room, he turned
suddenly on mister Laurie and her father, who were following,
and said, to the latter, you had great influence. But yesterday,
doctor Manette, let it at least be tried. These judges
and all the men in power are very friendly to you,
and very recognizant of your services, are they not? Nothing

(01:59:04):
connected with Charles was concealed from me. I had the
strongest assurances that I should save him, and I did.
He returned the answer in great trouble, and very slowly
try them again. The hours between this and to morrow
afternoon are few and short. But try, I intend to try.

(01:59:24):
I will not rest a moment. That's well. I have
known such energy as yours do great things before now,
though never he added, with a smile and a sigh,
together such great things as this. But try of little
worth as life is when we misuse it. It is
worth that effort. It would cost nothing to lay down

(01:59:46):
if it were not. I will go, said doctor Manette
to the prosecutor in the President strait. And I will
go to others whom it is better not to name.
I will write too, And but stay. There is a
sen celebration in the streets, and no one will be
accessible until dark. That's true. Well, it is a forlorn

(02:00:08):
hope at the best, and not much the forlorner for
being delayed till dark. I should like to know how
you speed, though, mind I expect nothing. When are you
likely to have seen these dread powers, doctor Manette? Immediately
after dark. I should hope within an hour or two
from this It will be dark soon after four. Let

(02:00:32):
us stretch the hour or two. If I go to
mister Lorry's at nine, shall I hear what you have done,
either from our friend or from yourself? Yes? May you prosper.
Mister Lorry followed Sydney to the outer door, and touching
him on the shoulder as he was going away, caused
him to turn. I have no hope, said mister Laurie,

(02:00:55):
in a low and sorrowful whisper. Nor have I if
any one of these men, or all of these men,
were disposed to spare him, which is a large supposition,
for what is his life or any man's to them?
I doubt if they durst spare him after the demonstration
in the court, and so do I. I heard the
fall of the axe in that sound, Mister Lorrie leaned

(02:01:18):
his arm upon the door post and bowed his face
upon it. Don't despond said Carton very gently. Don't grieve.
I encouraged Doctor Manette in this idea because I felt
that it might one day be consolatory to her. Otherwise
she might think his life was wantonly thrown away or wasted,
and that might trouble her. Yes, yes, yes, returned mister Lorry,

(02:01:43):
drying his eyes. You are right, but he will perish.
There is no real hope. Yes, he will perish. There
is no real hope, echoed Carton, and walked with a
settled step downstairs. Chapter twelve, Darkness, Sidney Carton paused in
the street, not quite decided where to go. At Tellson's

(02:02:07):
banking house. At nine, he said, with a musing face,
Shall I do well in the meantime to show myself?
I think so it is best that these people should
know there is such a man as I hear. It
is a sound precaution, and may be a necessary preparation.
But care, care, care, Let me think it out. Checking

(02:02:30):
his steps which had begun to tend towards an object,
he took a turn or two in the already darkening
street and traced the thought in his mind to its
possible consequences. His first impression was confirmed. It is best,
he said, finally resolved, that these people should know there
is such a man as I hear, and he turned

(02:02:50):
his face towards Saint Antoine. Defarge had described himself that
day as the keeper of a wine shop in the
Saint Antoine suburb. It was not difficult for one who
knew the city well to find his house without asking
any question. Having ascertained its situation, Carton came out of
those closer streets again and dined at a place of refreshment,

(02:03:12):
and fell sound asleep after dinner. For the first time
in many years, he had no strong drink. Since last
night he had taken nothing but a little light, thin wine,
and last night he had dropped the brandy slowly down
on mister Laurie's hearth like a man who had done
with it. It was as late as seven o'clock when
he awoke, refreshed, and went out into the streets again.

(02:03:36):
As he passed along towards Saint Antoine, he stopped at
a shop window where there was a mirror and slightly
altered the disordered arrangement of his loose cravat and his
coat collar and his wild hair. This done, he went
on direct to Defarge's and went in there. Happened to
be no customer in the shop but Jock three, of
the restless fingers and the croaking voice. This man, whom

(02:04:00):
he had seen upon the jury, stood drinking at the
little counter in conversation with the defarges man and wife.
The Vengeance assisted in the conversation like a regular member
of the establishment. As Carton walked in, took his seat
and asked, in very indifferent French for a small measure
of wine. Madame Defarge cast a careless glance at him,

(02:04:22):
and then a keener, and then a keener, and then
advanced to him herself and asked him what it was
he had ordered. He repeated what he had already said English,
asked Madame Defarge inquisitively, raising her dark eyebrows. After looking
at her as if the sound of even a single
French word were slow to express itself to him, he answered,

(02:04:44):
in his former strong foreign accent, Yes, madam, Yes, I
am English. Madame Defarge returned to her counter to get
the wine, and as he took up a Jacobin journal
and famed to pore over it, puzzling out its meaning,
he heard her say, I swear to you like Evremond.
Defarge brought him the wine and gave him good evening.

(02:05:07):
How good evening, Oh good evening, citizen, filling his glass,
Ah and good wine I drink to the republic. Defarge
went back to the counter and said, certainly a little
like Madame sternly retorted, I tell you a good deal
like Jacques three pacifically remarked, he is so much in

(02:05:28):
your mind, see you, madam, The amiable Vengeance added with
a laugh, Yes, my faith, and you are looking forward
with so much pleasure to seeing him once more to morrow.
Carton followed the lines and words of his paper with
a slow forefinger and with a studious and absorbed face.
They were all leaning their arms on the counter close together,

(02:05:50):
speaking low after a silence of a few moments, during
which they all looked towards him, without disturbing his outward
attention from the jacob An editor, they resumed their conversation.
It is true what madam says, observed Jock three. Why stop?
There is great force in that. Why stop? Well, well, reason, Defarge,

(02:06:13):
But one must stop somewhere. After all. The question is
still ware at extermination, said Madam magnificent, croaked Jock three.
The vengeance also highly approved. Extermination is good doctrine, my wife,
said Defarge, rather troubled. In general, I say nothing against it.

(02:06:36):
But this doctor has suffered much. You have seen him
to day. You have observed his face when the paper
was read. I have observed his face, repeated Madam, contemptuously
and angrily. Yes, I have observed his face. I have
observed his face to be not the face of a
true friend of the republic. Let him take care of

(02:06:58):
his face. And you have observed, my wife, said Defarge,
in a deprecatory manner, the anguish of his daughter, which
must be a dreadful anguish to him. I have observed
his daughter, repeated Madam. Yes, I have observed his daughter
more times than one. I have observed her to day,
and I have observed her other days. I have observed

(02:07:20):
her in the court, and I have observed her in
the street by the prison. Let me but lift my finger.
She seemed to raise it. The listener's eyes were always
on his paper, and to let it fall with a
rattle on the ledge before her, as if the axe
had dropped. The scitizeness is superb croaked the jury man.
She is an angel, said the vengeance, and embraced her

(02:07:45):
as to thee pursued Madam, implacably, addressing her husband. If
it depended on thee, which happily it does not, thou
wouldst rescue this man even now, no protested Defarge, not
if to lift this glass would do it. But I
would leave the matter there. I say, stop there. See

(02:08:07):
you then, Jacques, said Madame. Defarge wrathfully, and see you
to my little vengeance. See you both listen for other
crimes as tyrants and oppressors. I have this race a
long time on my register, doomed to destruction and extermination.
Ask my husband, is that so? It is? So? Assented?

(02:08:29):
Defarge without being asked. In the beginning of the great days,
when the Bastille falls he finds this paper of to day,
and he brings it home, and in the middle of
the night, when this place is clear and shut, we
read it here on this spot by the light of
this lamp. Ask him, is that so it is so assented? Defarge?

(02:08:51):
That night, I tell him, when the paper is read through,
and the lamp is burnt out, and the day is
gleaming in above those shutters and between those iron bars,
that I have now a secret to communicate. Ask him,
is that so it is so assented? Defarge? Again, I
communicate to him that secret. I smite this bosom with

(02:09:12):
these two hands, as I smite it now, and I
tell him, Defarge, I was brought up among the fishermen
of the sea shore, and that peasant family so injured
by the two Evremond brothers, as that Bastille paper describes,
is my family, Defarge. That sister of the mortally wounded
boy upon the ground was my sister. That husband was
my sister's husband, That unborn child was their child, That

(02:09:35):
brother was my brother, that father was my father. Those
dead are my dead, and that summons to answer for
those things descends to me. Ask him, is that so
it is so assented? Defarge once more. Then tell wind
and fire where to stop. Return madam, but don't tell me.
Both her hearers derived a horrible enjoyment from the deadly

(02:09:56):
nature of her wrath. The listener could feel how white
she was without seeing her, and both highly commended it. Defarge,
a weak minority, interposed a few words for the memory
of the compassionate wife of the marquis, but only elicited
from his own wife or repetition of her last reply.
Tell the wind and the fire where to stop, not me.

(02:10:18):
Customers entered and the group was broken up. The English
customer paid for what he had had, perplexedly counted his change,
and asked as a stranger, to be directed towards the
National Palace. Madame Defarge took him to the door and
put her arm on his in pointing out the road.
The English customer was not without his reflections then that

(02:10:40):
it might be a good deed to seize that arm,
lift it and strike under it sharp and deep. But
he went his way and was soon swallowed up in
the shadow of the prison wall. At the appointed hour,
he emerged from it to present himself in mister Laurie's
room again, where he found the old gentleman walking to
and fro in restless anxiety. He said he had been

(02:11:03):
with Lucy until just now, and had only left her
for a few minutes to come and keep his appointment.
Her father had not been seen since he quitted the
banking house towards four o'clock. She had some faint hopes
that his mediation might save Charles, but they were very slight.
He had been more than five hours gone. Where could

(02:11:23):
he be? Mister Laurie waited until ten, but doctor Manette
not returning, and he being unwilling to leave Lucy any longer,
it was arranged that he should go back to her
and come to the banking house again at midnight. In
the meanwhile, Cardon would wait alone by the fire for
the doctor. He waited and waited, and the clock struck twelve,

(02:11:46):
but doctor Manette did not come back. Mister Lorry returned
and found no tidings of him, and brought none. Where
could he be? They were discussing this question, and were
almost building up some weeks ructure of hope on his
prolonged absence. When they heard him on the stairs. The
instant he entered the room, it was plain that all

(02:12:07):
was lost. Whether he had really been to any one,
or whether he had been all that time traversing the
streets was never known. As he stood staring at them,
they asked him no question, for his face told them everything.
I cannot find it, said he, and I must have it.
Where is it? His head and throat were bare, and

(02:12:29):
as he spoke with a helpless look, straying all around,
he took his coat off and let it drop on
the floor. Where is my bench? I have been looking
everywhere for my bench, and I can't find it. What
have they done with my work? Time presses? I must
finish those shoes. They looked at one another, and their

(02:12:50):
hearts died within them. Come, come, said he in a whimpering,
miserable way. Let me get to work, Give me my work.
Receiving no answer, he tore his hair and beat his
feet upon the ground like a distracted child. Don't torture
a poor, forlorn wretch, he implored them with a dreadful cry,
But give me my work. What is to become of

(02:13:13):
us if those shoes are not done? To night lost,
utterly lost. It was so clearly beyond hope to reason
with him or try to restore him, that as if
by agreement, they each put a hand upon his shoulder
and soothed him to sit down before the fire, with
a promise that he should have his work presently. He
sank into the chair and brooded over the embers and

(02:13:35):
shed tears, as if all that had happened since the
garret time were a momentary fancy or a dream. Mister
Lorry saw him shrink into the exact figure that Defarge
had had in keeping. Affected and impressed with terror as
they both were by this spectacle of ruin, it was
not a time to yield to such emotions. His lonely daughter,

(02:13:57):
bereft of her final hope and reliance, appealed to them
both too strongly. Again, as if by agreement, they looked
at one another with one meaning in their faces. Carton
was the first to speak, the last chance is gone.
It was not much. Yes, he had better be taken
to her. But before you go, will you for a

(02:14:19):
moment steadily attend to me. Don't ask me why I
make the stipulations I am going to make and exact
the promise I am going to exact. I have a reason,
a good one. I do not doubt it, answered mister Lorry,
say on. The figure in the chair between them was
all the time monotonously rocking itself to and fro and moaning.

(02:14:42):
They spoke in such a tone as they would have
used if they had been watching by a sick bed
in the night. Carton stooped to pick up the coat,
which lay almost entangling his feet. As he did so,
a small case in which the doctor was accustomed to
carry the lists of his day's duties, fell lightly on
the floor. Carton took it up, and there was a

(02:15:02):
folded paper in it. We should look at this, he said.
Mister Lorry nodded his consent. He opened it and exclaimed,
Thank God, what is it? Asked mister Lorry eagerly a moment,
Let me speak of it in its place. First, he
put his hand in his coat and took another paper

(02:15:24):
from it. That is the certificate which enables me to
pass out of this city. Look at it, you see,
Sidney Carton, an englishman. Mister Lorry held it open in
his hand, gazing in his earnest face. Keep it for
me until tomorrow. I shall see him tomorrow, you remember,
and I had better not take it into the prison.

(02:15:46):
Why not? I don't know. I prefer not to do so.
Now take this paper that doctor Manette has carried about him.
It is a similar certificate, enabling him and his daughter
and her child at any time to pass the barrier
and the frontier. You see. Yes, perhaps he obtained it

(02:16:07):
as his last and utmost precaution against evil yesterday when
is it dated? But no matter, don't stay to look.
Put it up carefully with mine and your own. Now
observe I never doubted until within this hour or two
that he had or could have, such a paper. It
is good until recalled, but it may be soon recalled,

(02:16:32):
and I have reason to think will be. They are
not in danger, They are in great danger. They are
in danger of denunciation by Madame Defarge. I know it
from her own lips. I have overheard words of that
woman's tonight which have presented their danger to me in
strong colors. I have lost no time, and since then

(02:16:55):
I have seen the spy, he confirms me. He knows
that a wood sawyer living by the prison wall is
under the control of the Defarges and has been rehearsed
by Madame Defarge. As to his having seen her. He
never mentioned Lucy's name, making signs and signals to prisoners.
It is easy to foresee that the pretense will be

(02:17:15):
the common one, a prison plot, and that it will
involve her life, and perhaps her child's, and perhaps her father's,
for both have been seen with her at that place.
Don't look so horrified. You will save them all Heaven grant,
I may carton, But how I am going to tell
you how it will depend on you, and it could

(02:17:38):
depend on no better man. This new denunciation will certainly
not take place until after tomorrow, probably not until two
or three days afterwards, more probably a week afterwards. You know,
it is a capital crime to mourn for or sympathize
with a victim of the guillotine. She and her father
would unquestionably be guilty of this crime. And this woman,

(02:18:01):
the inveteracy of whose pursuit cannot be described, would wait
to add that strength to her case and make herself
doubly sure. You follow me so attentively and with so
much confidence in what you say, that for the moment
I lose sight touching the back of the doctor's chair.
Even of this distress, you have money and can buy

(02:18:22):
the means of traveling to the sea coast as quickly
as the journey can be made. Your preparations have been
completed for some days to return to England early tomorrow.
Have your horses ready so that they may be in
starting trim at two o'clock in the afternoon. It shall
be done. His manner was so fervent and inspiring that

(02:18:42):
mister Lorry caught the flame and was as quick as youth.
You are a noble heart, did I say we could
depend upon no better man. Tell her to night what
you know of her danger as involving her child and
her father. Dwell upon that, for she would lay her
own had beside her husband's cheerfully. He faltered for an instant,

(02:19:03):
then went on as before, for the sake of her
child and her father, press upon her the necessity of
leaving Paris with them, and you at that hour tell
her that it was her husband's last arrangement. Tell her
that more depends upon it than she dare believe or hope.
You think that her father, even in this sad state,

(02:19:24):
will submit himself to her, do you not? I am
sure of it? I thought so quietly and steadily. Have
all these arrangements made in the courtyard here, even to
the taking of your own seat in the carriage. The
moment I come to you, take me in and drive away.
I understand that I wait for you under all circumstances.

(02:19:46):
You have my certificate in your hand with the rest
you know, and will reserve my place. Wait for nothing
but to have my place occupied, and then for England. Why, then,
said mister Lorry, grasping his eager but so firm and
steady hand. It does not all depend on one old man,
but I shall have a young and ardent man at

(02:20:06):
my side, by the help of Heaven. You shall promise
me solemnly that nothing will influence you to alter the
course on which we now stand, pledged to one another.
Nothing Carton, remember these words tomorrow change the course or
delay in it for any reason, and no life can
possibly be saved, and many lives must inevitably be sacrificed.

(02:20:30):
I will remember them. I hope to do my part faithfully,
and I hope to do mine now. Good Bye. Though
he said it with a grave smile of earnestness, and
though he even put the old man's hand to his lips,
he did not part from him. Then he helped him
so far to arouse the rocking figure before the dying embers,

(02:20:51):
as to get a cloak and hat put upon it,
and to tempt it forth to find where the bench
and work were hidden that it still moaningly besought to have.
He locked on the other side of it, and protected
it to the courtyard of the house where the afflicted
heart so happy in the memorable time, when he had
revealed his own desolate heart to it, outwatched the awful night.
He entered the courtyard and remained there for a few

(02:21:13):
moments alone, looking up at the light in the window
of her room. Before he went away, he breathed a
blessing towards it, and a farewell. Chapter thirteen fifty two.
In the black prison of the Conciergerie, the doomed of
the day awaited their fate. They were in number, as
the weeks of the year fifty two were to roll

(02:21:34):
that afternoon on the life tide of the city to
the boundless, everlasting sea. Before their cells were quit of them,
new occupants were appointed. Before their blood ran into the
blood spilled yesterday, The blood that was to mingle with
theirs tomorrow was already set apart. Two score and twelve
were told off from the farmer general of seventy, whose

(02:21:55):
riches could not by his life, to the seamstress of twenty,
whose poverty and obscurity could not save her. Physical diseases
engendered in the vices and neglects of men will seize
on victims of all degrees, and the frightful moral disorder
born of unspeakable suffering, intolerable oppression, and heartless indifference smote

(02:22:15):
equally without distinction. Charles Darnay, alone in a cell, had
sustained himself with no flattering delusion since he came to
it from the tribunal. In every line of the narrative
he had heard, he had heard his condemnation. He had
fully comprehended that no personal influence could possibly save him,
that he was virtually sentenced by the millions, and that

(02:22:38):
units could avail him nothing. Nevertheless, it was not easy,
with the face of his beloved wife fresh before him,
to compose his mind to what it must bear. His
hold on life was strong, and it was very very
hard to loosen by gradual efforts and degrees unclosed a
little here, it clenched the tighter there. And when he

(02:22:59):
brought his strength to bear on that hand, and it yielded.
This was closed again. There was a hurry too in
all his thoughts, a turbulent and heated working of his
heart that contended against resignation. If for a moment he
did feel resigned, then his wife and child, who had
to live after him, seemed to protest, and to make

(02:23:19):
it a selfish thing. But all this was at first.
Before long, the consideration that there was no disgrace in
the fate he must meet, and that numbers went the
same road wrongfully and trod it firmly every day, sprang
up to stimulate him. Next followed the thought that much
of the future peace of mind enjoyable by the dear

(02:23:39):
ones depended on his quiet fortitude. So by degrees he
calmed into the better state, when he could raise his
thoughts much higher and draw comfort down before it had
sat in dark on the night of his condemnation, he
had traveled thus far on his last way. Being allowed
to purchase the means of writing, and alight, he sat

(02:23:59):
down to write until such time as the prison lamps
should be extinguished. He wrote a long letter to Lucy,
showing her that he had known nothing of her father's
imprisonment until he had heard of it from herself, and
that he had been as ignorant as she of his
father's and uncle's responsibility for that misery. Until the paper
had been read. He had already explained to her that

(02:24:21):
his concealment from herself of the name he had relinquished
was the one condition fully intelligible now that her father
had attached to their betrothal, and was the one promise
he had still exacted on the morning of their marriage.
He entreated her, for her father's sake, never to seek
to know whether her father had become oblivious of the
existence of the paper, or had had it recalled to

(02:24:42):
him for the moment or for good by the story
of the tower on that old Sunday under the dear
old plane tree in the garden. If he had preserved
any definite remembrance of it, there could be no doubt
that he had supposed it destroyed with the bastille, when
he had found no mention of it among the relics
of prisoners which the populace had discovered there, and which
had been described to all the world. He besought her,

(02:25:06):
though he added that he knew it was needless to
console her father by impressing him through every tender means
she could think of, with the truth that he had
done nothing for which he could justly reproach himself, but
had uniformly forgotten himself for their joint sakes, next to
her preservation of his own last grateful love and blessing,
and her overcoming of her sorrow, to devote herself to

(02:25:27):
their dear child, he adjured her, as they would meet
in heaven, to comfort her father. To her father himself,
he wrote in the same strain. But he told her
father that he expressly confided his wife and child to
his care. And he told him this very strongly, with
the hope of rousing him from any despondency or dangerous
retrospect towards which he foresaw he might be tending. To

(02:25:51):
mister Lorry, he commended them all and explained his worldly
affairs that done, with many added sentences of grateful friendship
and warmantytachment, all was done. He never thought of Carton.
His mind was so full of the others that he
never once thought of him. He had time to finish
these letters before the lights were put out. When he

(02:26:13):
lay down on his straw bed, he thought he had
done with this world. But it beckoned him back in
his sleep and showed itself in shining forms, free and happy,
back in the old house in Soho, though it had
nothing in it like the real house, unaccountably released in
light of heart, he was with Lucy again, and she
told him it was all a dream, and he had

(02:26:35):
never gone away. A pause of forgetfulness, and then he
had even suffered, and had come back to her, dead
and at peace, And yet there was no difference in him.
Another pause of oblivion, and he awoke in the somber morning,
unconscious where he was or what had happened, until it
flashed upon his mind, this is the day of my death.

(02:26:56):
Thus had he come through the hours to the day
when the fifty two heads we were to fall. And
now while he was composed and hoped that he could
meet the end with quiet heroism, a new action began
in his waking thoughts, which was very difficult to master.
He had never seen the instrument that was to terminate
his life, how high it was from the ground, how

(02:27:17):
many steps it had, where he would be stood, how
he would be touched, whether the touching hands would be
dyed red, which way his face would be turned, whether
he would be the first or might be the last.
These and many similar questions, in no wise directed by
his will, obtruded themselves over and over again countless times.

(02:27:37):
Neither were they connected with fear. He was conscious of
no fear. Rather, they originated in a strange, besetting desire
to know what to do when the time came, a
desire gigantically disproportionate to the few swift moments to which
it referred, a wondering that was more like the wondering
of some other spirit within his than his own. The

(02:27:58):
hours went on as he walked to and fro, and
the clock struck the numbers he would never hear again.
Nine gone forever, ten gone forever, eleven gone forever, twelve
coming on to pass away. After a hard contest with
that eccentric action of thought which had last perplexed him,
he had got the better of it. He walked up

(02:28:19):
and down, softly, repeating their names to himself. The worst
of the strife was over. He could walk up and down,
free from distracting fancies, praying for himself and for them.
Twelve gone forever. He had been apprized that the final
hour was three, and he knew he would be summoned
some time earlier, inasmuch as the tumbrels jolted heavily and

(02:28:41):
slowly through the streets. Therefore he resolved to keep two
before his mind as the hour, and so to strengthen
himself in the interval, that he might be able after
that time to strengthen others. Walking regularly to and fro
with his arms folded on his breast, a very different
man from the risoner who had walked to and fro
at la force, he heard one struck away from him

(02:29:04):
without surprise. The hour had measured like most other hours, devoutly.
Thankful to Heaven for his recovered self possession, he thought,
there is but another now, and turned to walk again.
Footsteps in the stone passage. Outside the door he stopped,
the key was put in the lock, and turned. Before

(02:29:26):
the door was opened, or as it opened, a man said,
in a low voice in English, he has never seen
me here. I have kept out of his way. Go
you in alone. I wait near lose no time. The
door was quickly opened and closed, and there stood before him,
face to face, quiet intent upon him, with the light

(02:29:47):
of a smile on his features and a cautionary finger
on his lip Sydney Carton. There was something so bright
and remarkable in his look that for the first moment
the prisoner misdoubted him to be an apparition of his
own imagining. But he spoke, and it was his voice.
He took the prisoner's hand, and it was his real grasp.

(02:30:09):
Of all the people upon earth, you least expected to
see me, he said, I could not believe it to
be you. I can scarcely believe it now. You are not.
The apprehension came suddenly into his mind. A prisoner. No,
I am accidentally possessed of a power over one of
the keepers here, and in virtue of it, I stand

(02:30:30):
before you. I come from her, your wife. Dear darnay,
The prisoner wrung his hand. I bring you a request
from her. What is it? A most earnest pressing, an
emphatic entreaty addressed to you in the most pathetic tones
of the voice, so dear to you that you well remember.
The prisoner turned his face partly aside. You have no

(02:30:51):
time to ask me why I bring it or what
it means. I have no time to tell you. You
must comply with it. Take off those boots you wear
and draw on these of mine. There was a chair
against the wall of the cell behind the prisoner. Carton,
pressing forward, had already, with the speed of lightning, got
him down into it, and stood over him barefoot. Draw

(02:31:14):
on these boots of mine, Put your hands to them,
Put your will to them. Quick Carton, There is no
escaping from this place. It never can be done. You
will only die with me. It is madness. It would
be madness if I asked you to escape. But do
I when I ask you to pass out at that door,

(02:31:36):
tell me it is madness, and remain here. Change that
cravat for this of mine, that coat for this of mine.
While you do it, let me take this ribbon from
your hair and shake out your hair like this of mine.
With wonderful quickness, and with a strength both of will
and action that appeared quite supernatural, he forced all these
changes upon him. The prisoner was like a young child

(02:31:59):
in his hands. Carton, dear Carton, it is madness. It
cannot be accomplished, It never can be done. It has
been attempted and has always failed. I implore you not
to add your death to the bitterness of mine. Do
I ask you, my dear darnay, to pass the door

(02:32:20):
when I ask that refuse. There are pen and ink
and paper on this table. Is your hand steady enough
to write? It was when you came in. Steady it again,
and write what I shall dictate? Quick, friend, quick, Pressing
his hand to his bewildered head, Darnay sat down at
the table. Carton, with his right hand in his breast,

(02:32:44):
stood close beside him. Write exactly as I speak to whom?
Do I address it to no one? Carton still had
his hand in his breast. Do I date it? No?
The prisoner looked up at each question. Carton, standing over
him with his hand in his breast, looked down. If

(02:33:06):
you remember, said Carton, dictating the words that passed between
us long ago, you will readily comprehend this when you
see it. You do remember them? I know it is
not in your nature to forget them. He was drawing
his hand from his breast, the prisoner, chancing to look
up in his hurried wonder as he wrote. The hand
stopped closing upon something. Have you written forget them? Carton asked,

(02:33:32):
I have Is that a weapon in your hand? No?
I am not armed. What is it in your hand?
You shall know directly right on. There are but a
few words more, he dictated again, I am thankful that
the time has come when I can prove them that
I do so. Is no subject for regret or grief.

(02:33:54):
As he said these words with his eyes fixed on
the writer, his hand slowly and softly moved down close
to the writer's face. The pen dropped from Darnay's fingers
on the table, and he looked about him vacantly. What
vapor is that? He asked? Vapor something that crossed me?
I am conscious of nothing. There can be nothing here.

(02:34:17):
Take up the pen and finish. Hurry, hurry. As if
his memory were impaired or his faculties disordered, the prisoner
made an effort to rally his attention as he looked
at Carton with clouded eyes and with an altered manner
of breathing. Carton, his hand again in his breast, looked
steadily at him. Hurry, hurry. The prisoner bent over the

(02:34:40):
paper once more. If it had been otherwise, Carton's hand
was again watchfully and softly stealing down. I never should
have used the longer opportunity. If it had been otherwise,
the hand was at the prisoner's face. I should but
have had so much the more to answer for if
it had been otherwise. Carton looked at the pen and

(02:35:01):
saw it was trailing off into unintelligible signs. Carton's hand
moved back to his breast no more. The prisoner sprang
up with a reproachful look. But Carton's hand was close
and firm at his nostrils, and Carton's left arm caught
him round the waist. For a few seconds he faintly
struggled with the man who had come to lay down

(02:35:21):
his life for him. But within a minute or so
he was stretched insensible on the ground, quickly, but with
hands as true to the purpose as his heart was.
Carton dressed himself in the clothes the prisoner had laid aside,
combed back his hair and tied it with the ribbon
the prisoner had worn. Then he softly called enter, there,

(02:35:42):
come in, and the spy presented himself. You see, said Carton,
looking up, as he kneeled on one knee beside the
insensible figure putting the paper in the breast. Is your hazard,
very great, mister Carton, the spy answered, with a timid
snap of his fingers, My hazard is not that in
the thick of business here. If you are true to

(02:36:04):
the whole of your bargain, don't fear me. I will
be true to the death. You must be, mister Carton.
If the tale of fifty two is to be right,
being made right by you in that dress, I shall
have no fear. Have no fear. I shall soon be
out of the way of harming you, and the rest

(02:36:24):
will soon be far from here. Please God, now get
assistance and take me to the coach, you, said the
spy nervously. Him, man with whom I have exchanged you
go out at the gate by which you brought me in.
Of course I was weak and faint when you brought

(02:36:44):
me in, and I am fainter now you take me out.
The parting interview has overpowered me. Such a thing has
happened here often, and too often. Your life is in
your own hands. Quick call assistance. You swear not to
betray me, said the trembling spy as he paused for

(02:37:05):
a last moment. Man Man returned Carton, stamping his foot.
Have I sworn by no solemn vow already to go
through with this that you waste the precious moments? Now
take him yourself to the courtyard you know of, place
him yourself in the carriage, show him yourself to mister Lorry,
tell him yourself to give him no restorative but air,

(02:37:27):
and to remember my words of last night and his
promise of last night, and drive away. The spy withdrew,
and Carton seated himself at the table, resting his forehead
on his hands. The spy returned immediately with two men.
How then, said one of them, contemplating the fallen figure,

(02:37:47):
so afflicted to find that his friend has drawn a
prize in the lottery of Saint Guillotine, a good patriot,
said the other could hardly have been more afflicted if
the aristocrat had drawn a blank. They raised the unconscious figure,
placed it on a litter they had brought to the door,
and bent to carry it away. The time is short, evremonde,
said the spy, in a warning voice. I know it well,

(02:38:11):
answered Carton. Be careful of my friend, I entreat you,
and leave me. Come then, my children, said Barsad, lift
him and come away. The door closed, and Carton was
left alone, straining his powers of listening to the utmost.
He listened for any sound that might denote suspicion or alarm.

(02:38:33):
There was none. Keys turned, doors clashed, footsteps passed along
distant passages. No cry was raised or hurry made that
seemed unusual. Breathing more freely in a little while, he
sat down at the table and listened again, until the
clock struck two sounds that he was not afraid of,
for he divined their meaning, then began to be audible.

(02:38:57):
Several doors were opened in succession, and find his own.
A jailer with a list in his hand, looked in,
merely saying, follow me, evremonde, And he followed into a
large dark room. At a distance. It was a dark
winter day, and what with the shadows within, and what
with the shadows without, he could but dimly discern the

(02:39:17):
others who were brought there to have their arms bound.
Some were standing, some seated, Some were lamenting and in
restless motion, But these were few. The great majority were
silent and still looking fixedly at the ground. As he
stood by the wall in a dim corner. While some
of the fifty two were brought in after him, one

(02:39:39):
man stopped in, passing to embrace him, as having a
knowledge of him. It thrilled him with a great dread
of discovery. But the man went on. A very few
moments after that, a young woman with a slight, girlish form,
a sweet, spare face in which there was no vestige
of color, and large, widely opened, patient eyes, rose from

(02:39:59):
the seat where he had observed her sitting, and came
to speak to him, Citizen Evremond, she said, touching him
with her cold hand, I am a poor little seamstress
who was with you in la force. He murmured for answer, true,
I forget what you were accused of plots, though the
just Heaven knows that I am innocent of any. Is

(02:40:22):
it likely who would think of plotting with a poor little,
weak creature like me? The forlorn smile with which she
said it so touched him that tears started from his eyes.
I am not afraid to die, Citizen Evremond, but I
have done nothing. I am not unwilling to die if
the Republic, which is to do so much good to

(02:40:42):
us poor, will profit by my death. But I do
not know how that can be, Citizen Evremond, such a poor,
weak little creature as the last thing on earth that
his heart was to warm and soften to. It warmed
and softened to this pitiable girl. I heard you were released,
Citizen Evremonde. I hoped it was true. It was, but

(02:41:06):
I was again taken and condemned. If I may ride
with you, Citizen Evremond, will you let me hold your hand.
I am not afraid, but I am little and weak,
and it will give me more courage. As the patient
eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden
doubt in them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work worn,
hunger worn, young fingers and touched his lips. Are you

(02:41:29):
dying for him? She whispered, And his wife and child hush, yes,
oh you will let me hold your brave hand. Stranger, hush, yes,
my poor sister. To the last, the same shadows that
are falling on the prison are falling in that same
hour of the early afternoon, on the barrier, with the

(02:41:52):
crowd about it. When a coach going out of Paris
drives up to be examined. Who goes here? Whom have we?
Within papers? The papers are handed out and read Alexander Manette,
physician French? Which is he? This is he? This? Helpless

(02:42:13):
inarticulately murmuring wandering old man pointed out, apparently the citizen
doctor is not in his right mind. The revolution fever
will have been too much for him, greatly too much
for him. Ha, many suffer with it. Lucy his daughter French?

(02:42:34):
Which is she? This is she? Apparently it must be Lucy,
the wife of Evremond, Is it not? It is ha?
Evremond has an assignation elsewhere. Lucy her child English? This
is she? She? And no other? Kiss me child of Evremond.

(02:42:58):
Now thou hast kissed a good republic. Something new in
thy family? Remember it? Sidney Carton Advocate English? Which is he?
He lies here in this corner of the carriage. He
too is pointed out. Apparently the English Advocate is in
a swoon. It is hoped he will recover in the

(02:43:20):
fresher air. It is represented that he is not in
strong health and has separated sadly from a friend who
is under the displeasure of the republic. Is that all?
It is not a great deal that many are under
the displeasure of the republic and must look out at
the little window. Jarvis Lorie Banker English? Which is he?

(02:43:45):
I am he necessarily being the last? It is Jarvis Lorie,
who has replied to all the previous questions. It is
Jarvis Lorry, who has alighted and stands with his hand
on the coach door, replying to a group of officials.
They leisurely walk round the carriage and leisurely mount the
box to look at what little luggagey it carries on

(02:44:05):
the roof the country. People hanging about pressed nearer to
the coach doors and greedily stare in a little child
carried by its mother, as its short arm held out
for it that it may touch the wife of an
aristocrat who has gone to the guillotine. Behold your papers,
Jarvis Lorry, countersigned. One can depart, citizen, one can depart

(02:44:29):
forward my postilions, A good journey, I salute you, citizen's dot,
and the first danger past. These are again the words
of Jarvis Lorry, as he clasps his hands and looks upward.
There is terror in the carriage. There is weeping. There
is the heavy breathing of the insensible traveler. Are we

(02:44:51):
not going too slowly? Can they not be induced to
go faster? Asks Lucy, clinging to the old man. It
would seem like flight, my darling. I must not urge
them too much. It would rouse suspicion. Look back, look back,
and see if we are pursued. The road is clear,

(02:45:11):
my dearest, So far we are not pursued. Houses in
twos and threes pass by us, solitary farms, ruinous buildings,
dye works, tanneries, and the like, open country avenues of
leafless trees. The hard, uneven pavement is under us, The soft,
deep mud is on either side. Sometimes we strike into

(02:45:33):
the skirting mud to avoid the stones that clatter us
and shake us. Sometimes we stick in ruts and sloughs. There.
The agony of our impatience is then so great that,
in our wild alarm and hurry, we are for getting
out and running, hiding, doing anything but stopping out of
the open country in again, among ruinous buildings, solitary farms,

(02:45:56):
dye works, tanneries, and the like, cottages in twos and threes,
these avenues of leafless trees. Have these men deceived us
and taken us back by another road? Is not this
the same place twice over? Thank heaven, No a village.
Look back, Look back and see if we are pursued.

(02:46:17):
Hush the posting house leisurely. Our four horses are taken
out leisurely. The coach stands in the little street, bereft
of horses, and with no likelihood upon it of ever
moving again. Leisurely, the new horses come into visible existence
one by one. Leisurely, the new postilions follow, sucking and

(02:46:38):
plaiting the lashes of their whips. Leisurely. The old postilions
count their money, make wrong additions, and arrive at dissatisfied results.
All the time, our overfraught hearts are beating at a
rate that would far outstrip the fastest gallop of the
fastest horses ever fold. At length, the new postilions are
in their saddles, and the old are left behind. We

(02:47:01):
are through the village, up the hill, and down the hill,
and on the low watery grounds. Suddenly the postilions exchange
speech with animated gesticulation, and the horses are pulled up
almost on their haunches. We are pursued ho within the
carriage there speak then, what is it? Asks mister Lorry,

(02:47:24):
looking out at window. How many did they say, I
do not understand you at the last post? How many
to the guillotine today? Fifty two? I said, so a
brave number, my fellow citizen here would have it forty two.
Ten more heads are worth having the guillotine, goes handsomely.

(02:47:49):
I love it. High forward, whoop. The night comes on dark,
he moves more. He is beginning to revive and to
speak intelligibly. He thinks they are still together. He asks
him by his name what he has in his hand. Oh,
pity us, kind Heaven, and help us. Look out, look out,

(02:48:10):
and see if we are pursued. The wind is rushing
after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and
the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild
night is in pursuit of us. But so far we
are pursued by nothing else. Chapter fourteen, The knitting done
in that same juncture of time, when the fifty two

(02:48:31):
awaited their fate, Madame Defarge held darkly ominous council with
the Vengeance and Jock three of the Revolutionary Jury. Not
in the wine shop did Madame Defarge confer with these ministers.
But in the shed of the wood sawyer burst a
mender of roads. The sawyer himself did not participate in
the conference, but abide it at a little distance, like

(02:48:52):
an outer satellite, who was not to speak until required,
or to offer an opinion until invited. But our Defarge
said three is undoubtedly a good Republican. Eh. There is
no better the voluble vengeance protested in her shrill notes
in France. Peace little vengeance, said Madame Defarge, laying her

(02:49:14):
hand with a slight frown on her lieutenant's lips. Hear
me speak. My husband, fellow citizen, is a good Republican
and a bold man. He has deserved well of the
republic and possesses its confidence. But my husband has his weaknesses,
and he is so weak as to relent towards this doctor.
It is a great pity, Croaked Shock three, dubiously shaking

(02:49:37):
his head with his cruel fingers at his hungry mouth.
It is not quite like a good citizen. It is
a thing to regret, see you, said Madam. I care
nothing for this doctor. I he may wear his head
or lose it for any interest I have in him.
It is all one to me. But the Evremond people
are to be exterminated, and the wife and child must

(02:49:59):
follow them. Husband and father. She has a fine head
for it, Croaked Shock three. I have seen blue eyes
and golden hair there, and they looked charming when Samson
held them up Ogre that he was. He spoke like
an epicure. Madame Defarge cast down her eyes and reflected
a little. The child also observed Jock three with a

(02:50:22):
meditative enjoyment of his words as golden hair and blue eyes,
and we seldom have a child there. It is a
pretty sight. In a word, said Madame Defarge, coming out
of her short abstraction. I cannot trust my husband in
this matter. Not only do I feel since last night
that I dare not confide to him the details of

(02:50:44):
my projects, but also I feel that if I delay,
there is danger of his giving warning, and then they
might escape. That must never be croaked. Shock three. No
one must escape. We have not half enough as it is.
We ought to have sick score a day. In a word,
Madame Defarge went on, my husband has not my reason

(02:51:05):
for pursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not
his reason for regarding this doctor with any sensibility. I
must act for myself. Therefore, come hither, little citizen. The
wood sawyer, who held her in the respect and himself
in the submission of mortal fear, advanced with his hand
to his red cap, touching those signals. Little citizen, said

(02:51:28):
Madame Defarge sternly that she made to the prisoners. You
are ready to bear witness to them this very day.
I I why not, cried the sawyer every day in
all weathers, from two to four, always signaling, sometimes with
the little one, sometimes without. I know what I know,

(02:51:49):
I have seen with my eyes. He made all manner
of gestures while he spoke, as if an incidental imitation
of some few of the great diversity of signals that
he had never seen. Clearly plots, said Jock three. Transparently.
There is no doubt of the jury, inquired Madame Defarge,
letting her eyes turn to him with a gloomy smile.

(02:52:10):
Rely upon the patriotic jury. Dear sitizeness, I answer for
my fellow jurymen. Now let me see, said Madame Defarge,
pondering again yet once more? Can I spare this doctor
to my husband? I have no feeling either way? Can
I spare him? He would count as one head, observed

(02:52:34):
Jaques three, in a low voice. We really have not
heads enough. It would be a pity. I think he
was signaling with her when I saw her, argued Madame Defarge.
I cannot speak of one without the other, and I
must not be silent and trust the case wholly to
him this little citizen here, for I am not a
bad witness. The Vengeance and Jacques three vied with each

(02:52:57):
other in their fervent protestations that she was the most
admirable and marvelous of witnesses. The little citizen, not to
be outdone, declared her to be a celestial witness. He
must take his chance, said Madame Defarge. No I cannot
spare him. You are engaged at three o'clock. You are
going to see the batch of to day executed. Dot you.

(02:53:20):
The question was addressed to the wood sawyer, who hurriedly
replied in the affirmative, seizing the occasion to add that
he was the most ardent of republicans, and that he
would be, in effect the most desolate of republicans if
anything prevented him from enjoying the pleasure of smoking his
afternoon pipe. In the contemplation of the droll National barber.
He was so very demonstrative herein that he might have

(02:53:43):
been suspected, perhaps was by the dark eyes that looked
contemptuously at him out of Madame Defarge's head, of having
his small individual fears for his own personal safety every
hour in the day, I said Madame am equally engaged
at the same place. After it is over, say at
eight tonight, come you to me in Saint Antoine, and

(02:54:05):
we will give information against these people at my section.
The wood sawyer said he would be proud and flattered
to attend the scitiseness. The scitizeness looking at him. He
became embarrassed, evaded her glance as a small dog would
have done, retreated among his wood, and hid his confusion
over the handle of his saw. Madame Defarge beckoned the
jury man and the Vengeance a little nearer to the door,

(02:54:27):
and there expounded her further views to them. Thus she
will now be at home, awaiting the moment of his death.
She will be mourning and grieving. She will be in
a state of mind to impeach the justice of the Republic.
She will be full of sympathy with its enemies. I
will go to her. What an admirable woman, What an

(02:54:48):
adorable woman, exclaimed Jacques three rapturously. Ah my cherished, cried
the Vengeance and embraced her. Take you my knitting, said
Madame Defarge, placing it in her lieutenant's hands, and have
it ready for me in my usual seat. Keep me
my usual chair. Go you there straight, for there will

(02:55:09):
probably be a greater concourse than usual to day. I
willingly obey the orders of my chief, said the Vengeance,
with alacrity and kissing her cheek. You will not be late.
I shall be there before the commencement, and before the
tumbrels arrive. Be sure you are there, my soul, said

(02:55:30):
the Vengeance, calling after her, for she had already turned
into the street before the tumbrels arrive. Madame Defarge slightly
waved her hand to imply that she heard and might
be relied upon to arrive in good time, and so
went through the mud and round the corner of the
prison wall. The Vengeance and the jury man, looking after
her as she walked away, were highly appreciative of her

(02:55:52):
fine figure and her superb moral endowments. There were many
women at that time upon whom the time laid a dreadful,
disfiguring hand. But there was not one among them more
to be dreaded than this ruthless woman, now taking her
way along the streets, of a strong and fearless character,
of shrewd sense and readiness, of great determination, of that

(02:56:14):
kind of beauty which not only seems to impart to
its possessor firmness and animosity, but to strike into others
an instinctive recognition of those qualities. The troubled time would
have heaved her up under any circumstances, but imbued from
her childhood with a brooding sense of wrong and an
inveterate hatred of a class opportunity, had developed her into

(02:56:35):
a tigris. She was absolutely without pity. If she had
ever had the virtue in her, it had quite gone
out of her. It was nothing to her that an
innocent man was to die for the sins of his forefathers.
She saw not him but them. It was nothing to
her that his wife was to be made a widow
and his daughter an orphan. That was insufficient punishment, because

(02:56:58):
they were her natural enemies and her prey, and as
such had no right to live. To appeal to her
was made hopeless by her having no sense of pity,
even for herself. If she had been laid low in
the streets in any of the many encounters in which
she had been engaged, she would not have pitied herself.
Nor if she had been ordered to the axe tomorrow,

(02:57:20):
would she have gone to it with any softer feeling
than a fierce desire to change places with the man
who sent her there such a harp. Madame Defarge carried
under her rough robe, carelessly worn. It was a becoming
robe enough in a certain weird way, and her dark
hair looked rich under her coarse red cap. Lying hidden

(02:57:40):
in her bosom was a loaded pistol. Lying hidden at
her waist was a sharpened dagger. Thus accoutered and walking
with the confident tread of such a character, and with
the supple freedom of a woman who had habitually walked
in her girlhood, barefoot and bare legged on the brown
Sea sand, Madame Defarge took her way along the streets. Now,

(02:58:03):
when the journey of the traveling coach, at that very moment,
waiting for the completion of its load, had been planned
out last night, the difficulty of taking Miss Pross in
it had much engaged mister Lorry's attention. It was not
merely desirable to avoid overloading the coach, but it was
of the highest importance that the time occupied in examining
it and its passengers should be reduced to the utmost,

(02:58:25):
since their escape might depend on the saving of only
a few seconds here and there. Finally, he had proposed,
after anxious consideration, that Miss Pross and Jerry, who were
at liberty to leave the city, should leave it at
three o'clock in the lightest wheeled conveyance known to that period.
Unencumbered with luggage, they would soon overtake the coach, and

(02:58:47):
passing it and preceding it on the road, would order
its horses in advance, and greatly facilitate its progress during
the precious hours of the night, when delay was the
most to be dreaded. Seeing in this arrangement the hope
of rendering real service in that pressing emergency, Miss Pross
hailed it with joy. She and Jerry had beheld the
coach start had known who it was that Solomon brought,

(02:59:10):
had passed some ten minutes in tortures of suspense, and
were now concluding their arrangements to follow the coach, even
as Madame Defarge, taking her way through the streets, now
drew nearer and nearer to the else deserted lodging in
which they held their consultation. Now, what do you think,
mister Cruncher, said Miss Pross, whose agitation was so great

(02:59:31):
that she could hardly speak or stand or move or live?
What do you think of our not starting from this
courtyard another carriage having already gone from here to day?
It might awaken suspicion. My opinion, miss returned mister Cruncher,
is as you're right. Likewise what I'll stand by you
right or wrong. I am so distracted with fear and

(02:59:54):
hope for our precious creatures, said Miss Pross, wildly crying
that I am in cape of forming any plan? Are
you capable of forming any plan? My dear good mister Cruncher.
Respect in a future spear O life, Miss return Mister Cruncher,
I hope so respect in any present use O this

(03:00:15):
here blessed old head, O mine, I think not? Would
you do me the favor miss to take notice O
two promises and wows? What it is my wishes for
to record in this here crisis, Oh, for gracious sake,
cried Miss Pross, still wildly crying, Record them at once
and get them out of the way like an excellent man. First,

(03:00:38):
said mister Cruncher, who was all in a tremble, and
who spoke with an ashy and solemn visage them poor
things well out O this never no more will I
do it never no more. I am quite sure, mister
Cruncher returned Miss Pross, that you never will do it again,
whatever it is, and I beg you not to think

(03:00:58):
it necessary to mention more particularly what it is. No,
Miss returned Jerry, it shall not be named to you.
Second them poor things well out o this, and never
no more will I interfere with Missus Cruncher's flopping. Never
no more, whatever housekeeping arrangement that may be said Miss

(03:01:19):
Pross striving to dry her eyes and compose herself, I
have no doubt it is best that Missus Cruncher should
have it entirely under her own superintendent stot O my
poor darlings. I go so far as to say Miss
Moreover preceded mister Cruncher with a most alarming tendency to
hold forth as from a pulpit, and let my words

(03:01:40):
be took down and took to Missus Cruncher through yourself,
that what my opinions respect in flopping has undergone a change,
and that what I only hope with all my heart
as Missus Cruncher may be a flopping at the present time.
There there there I hope she is, my dear man,
cry the distracted Miss Pross, and I hope she finds

(03:02:02):
it answering her expectations. Forbid it preceded mister Cruncher, with
additional solemnity, additional slowness, an additional tendency to hold forth
and hold out as anything what I have ever said
or done should be visited on my earnest wishes for
them poor creturs. Now forbid it, as we shouldn't all
flop if it was any ways convenient to get em

(03:02:24):
out o this here dismal risk. Forbid it, miss what
I say, forbid it. This was mister Cruncher's conclusion after
a protracted but vain endeavor to find a better one,
and still Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets,
came nearer and nearer, if we ever get back to
our native land, said Miss Pross, you may rely upon

(03:02:47):
my telling, missus Cruncher, as much as I may be
able to remember and understand of what you have so
impressively said, And at all events you may be sure
that I shall bear witness to your being thoroughly in
earnest at this dreadful time. Now pray let us think
my esteemed mister Cruncher, let us think still. Madame Defarge,
pursuing her way along the streets, came nearer and nearer.

(03:03:11):
If you were to go before, said miss Pross, and
stop the vehicle and horses from coming here, and were
to wait somewhere for me, wouldn't that be best? Mister
Cruncher thought it might be best. Where could you wait
for me? Asked Miss Pross. Mister Cruncher was so bewildered
that he could think of no locality but Temple Bar Alas.

(03:03:33):
Temple Bar was hundreds of miles away, and Madame Defarge
was drawing very near, indeed by the cathedral door, said
Miss Pross. Would it be much out of the way
to take me in near the great cathedral door between
the two towers, No, miss answered mister Cruncher. Then, like

(03:03:53):
the best of men, said Miss Pross, go to the
posting house straight and make that change. I am doubtful,
said mister Cruncher, hesitating and shaking his head about leaving
of you. You see, we don't know what may happen.
Heaven knows we don't, returned Miss Pross, But have no
fear for me. Take me in at the cathedral at

(03:04:15):
three o'clock, or as near it as you can, and
I am sure it will be better than our going
from here. I feel certain of it. There Bless you,
mister Cruncher, think not of me, but of the lives
that may depend on both of us. This exordium and
Miss Pross's two hands in quite agonized entreaty Clasping his

(03:04:36):
decided mister Cruncher with an encouraging nod or two. He
immediately went out to alter the arrangements and left her
by herself to follow as she had proposed. The having
originated a precaution which was already in course of execution,
was a great relief to Miss Pross. The necessity of
composing her appearance so that it should attract no special

(03:04:58):
notice in the streets was another relief. She looked at
her watch, and it was twenty minutes past two. She
had no time to lose, but must get ready at once.
Afraid in her extreme perturbation of the loneliness of the
deserted rooms and of half imagined faces peeping from behind
every open door in them, Miss Pross got a basin

(03:05:20):
of cold water and began laving her eyes, which were
swollen and red haunted by her feverish apprehensions. She could
not bear to have her sight obscured for a minute
at a time by the dripping water, but constantly paused
and looked round to see that there was no one
watching her. In one of those pauses, she recoiled and
cried out, for she saw a figure standing in the room.

(03:05:43):
The basin fell to the ground, broken, and the water
flowed to the feet of Madame Defarge. By strange, stern ways,
and through much staining blood, those feet had come to
meet that water. Madame Defarge looked coldly at her and said,
the wife of Evremonde, where is she? It flashed upon
miss Pross's mind that the doors were all standing open

(03:06:04):
and would suggest the flight. Her first act was to
shut them. There were four in the room, and she
shut them all. She then placed herself before the door
of the chamber which Lucie had occupied. Madame Defarge's dark
eyes followed her through this rapid movement and rested on
her when it was finished. Miss Pross had nothing beautiful

(03:06:26):
about her. Years had not tamed the wildness or softened
the grimness of her appearance, But she too was a
determined woman in her different way, and she measured Madame
Defarge with her eyes every inch. You might, from your
appearance be the wife of Lucifer, said Miss Pross in
her breathing. Nevertheless, you shall not get the better of me.

(03:06:49):
I am an englishwoman. Madame Defarge looked at her scornfully,
but still with something of Miss Pross's own perception that
they too were at bay. She saw a tight, hard,
wary woman before her, as mister Laurie had seen in
the same figure a woman with a strong hand in
the years gone by. She knew full well that Miss

(03:07:10):
Pross was the family's devoted friend. Miss Pross knew full
well that Madame Defarge was the family's malevolent enemy. On
my way yonder, said Madame Defarge, with a slight movement
of her hand, towards the fatal spot where they reserved
my chair and my knitting for me. I am come
to make my compliments to her in passing. I wish
to see her. I know that your intentions are evil,

(03:07:33):
said Miss Pross, and you may depend upon it. I'll
hold my own against them. Each spoke in her own language.
Neither understood the other's words. Both were very watchful and
intent to deduce from look and manner what the unintelligible
words meant. It will do her no good to keep
herself concealed from me at this moment, said Madame Defarge.

(03:07:54):
Good patriots will know what that means. Let me see her,
go tell her that I wished to see her. Do
you hear if those eyes of yours were bed winches,
returned Miss Pross, and I was an English four poster,
they shouldn't lose a splinter of me. No, you wicked
foreign woman, I am your match. Madame Defarge was not

(03:08:17):
likely to follow these idiomatic remarks in detail, but she
so far understood them as to perceive that she was
said at naught woman, imbecile and pig like, said Madame Defarge, frowning,
I take no answer from you. I demand to see her.
Either tell her that I demand to see her, or
stand out of the way of the door and let

(03:08:39):
me go to her. This with an angry explanatory wave
of her right arm. I little thought, said Miss Pross,
that I should ever want to understand your nonsensical language,
but I would give all I have except the clothes
I wear, to know whether you suspect the truth or
any part of it. Neither of them, for a single moment,
released the other's eyes. Madame Defarge had not moved from

(03:09:01):
the spot where she stood when Miss Pross first became
aware of her, but she now advanced one step. I
am a Briton, said Miss Pross. I am desperate. I
don't care an English tuppence for myself. I know that
the longer I keep you here, the greater hope there
is for my lady bird. I'll not leave a handful
of that dark hair upon your head if you lay

(03:09:24):
a finger on me. Thus Miss Pross, with a shake
of her head and a flash of her eyes, between
every rapid sentence and every rapid sentence, a whole breath.
Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck a blow in
her life, but her courage was of that emotional nature
that it brought the irrepressible tears into her eyes. This

(03:09:44):
was a courage that Madame Defarge so little comprehended as
to mistake for weakness. Ha ha, she laughed, you poor wretch,
what are you worth? I address myself to that doctor.
Then she raised her voice and called out Sitt, wife
of Evremond, child of Evremond. Any person but this miserable

(03:10:07):
fool answer, the scitizedeness Defarge, perhaps the following silence, perhaps
some latent disclosure in the expression of Miss Pross's face,
perhaps a sudden misgiving. Apart from either suggestion, whispered to
Madame Defarge that they were gone. Three of the doors
she opened swiftly and looked in. Those rooms are all
in disorder. There has been hurried packing. There are odds

(03:10:30):
and ends upon the ground. There is no one in
that room behind you. Let me look never, said miss Pross,
who understood the request as perfectly as Madame Defarge understood
the answer. If they are not in that room, they
are gone and can be pursued and brought back, said
Madame Defarge to herself. As long as you don't know

(03:10:52):
whether they are in that room or not, you are
uncertain what to do, said Miss Pross to herself. And
you shall not know that. If I can prevent your
knowing it, and know that or not know that, you
shall not leave here while I can hold you. I
have been in the streets from the first. Nothing has
stopped me. I will tear you to pieces, but I
will have you from that door, said Madame Defarge. We

(03:11:15):
are alone at the top of a high house in
a solitary courtyard. We are not likely to be heard,
and I pray for bodily strength to keep you here,
while every minute you are here is worth a hundred
thousand guineas to my darling, said Miss Pross. Madame Defarge
made at the door. Miss Pross, on the instinct of
the moment, seized her round the waist in both her

(03:11:36):
arms and held her tight. It was in vain for
Madame Defarge to struggle and to strike. Miss Pross, with
the vigorous tenacity of love, always so much stronger than hate,
clasped her tight and even lifted her from the floor.
In the struggle that they had, the two hands of
Madame Defarge buffeted and tore her face, but Miss Pross,

(03:11:57):
with her head down, held her round the waist and
clung to her with more than the hold of a
drowning woman. Soon Madame Defarge's hands ceased to strike and
felt at her encircled waist. It is under my arm,
said Miss Pross, in smothered tones. YE shall not draw it.
I am stronger than you. I bless Heaven for it.

(03:12:18):
I hold you till one or other of us faints
for dies. Madame Defarge's hands were at her bosom. Miss
Pross looked up, saw what it was, struck at it
struck out a flash in a crash, and stood alone,
blinded with smoke. All this was in a second. As
the smoke cleared, leaving an awful stillness, it passed out

(03:12:39):
on the air, like the soul of the furious woman
whose body lay lifeless on the ground. In the first
fright and horror of her situation, Miss Pross passed the
body as far from it as she could, and ran
down the stairs to call for fruitless help. Happily, she
bethought herself of the consequences of what she did in
time to check herself go back. It was dreadful to

(03:13:02):
go in at the door again, but she did go in,
and even went near it to get the bonnet and
other things that she must wear. These she put on
out on the staircase, first shutting and locking the door
and taking away the key. She then sat down on
the stairs a few moments to breathe and to cry,
and then got up and hurried away. By good fortune,

(03:13:24):
she had a veil on her bonnet, or she could
hardly have gone along the streets without being stopped by
good fortune. Too. She was naturally so peculiar in appearance
as not to show disfigurement like any other woman. She
needed both advantages, for the marks of gripping fingers were
deep in her face, and her hair was torn, and
her dress, hastily composed with unsteady hands, was clutched and

(03:13:47):
dragged a hundred ways. In crossing the bridge, she dropped
the door key in the river. Arriving at the cathedral
some few minutes before her escort, and waiting there, she thought,
what if the key were already taken in a net,
What if it were identified? What if the door were
opened and the remains discovered? What if she were stopped
at the gate, sent to prison and charged with murder.

(03:14:11):
In the midst of these fluttering thoughts, the escort appeared,
took her in, and took her away. Is there any
noise in the streets, she asked him, the usual noises.
Mister Cruncher replied, and looked surprised by the question and
by her aspect. I don't hear you said, miss Pross,
What do you say? It was in vain for mister

(03:14:33):
Cruncher to repeat what he said Miss Pross could not
hear him, so I'll nod my head, thought mister Cruncher,
amazed at all events. She'll see that, and she did.
Is there any noise in the streets now, asked Miss
Pross again? Presently Again, mister Cruncher nodded his head. I
don't hear it. Gone deaf in an hour, said mister Cruncher,

(03:14:58):
ruminating with his mind much disas disturbed. What's come to her?
I feel, said miss Pross, as if there had been
a flash and a crash, and that crash was the
last thing I should ever hear in this life. Blest
if she ain't in a queer condition, said mister Cruncher,
more and more disturbed. What can she have been a
talquen to keep her courage up? Hark, there's the roll

(03:15:22):
of them dreadful carts. You can hear that, miss I
can hear, said Miss Pross, seeing that he spoke to her. Nothing. Oh,
my good man. There was first a great crash and
then a great stillness, And that stillness seems to be
fixed and unchangeable, never to be broken any more as
long as my life lasts. If she don't hear the

(03:15:44):
roll of those dreadful carts, now very nigh their journey's end,
said mister Cruncher, glancing over his shoulder. It's my opinion
that indeed she never will hear anything else in this world,
and indeed she never did. Chapter fifteen. The footsteps die
out forever. Along the Paris streets, the death carts rumble,

(03:16:05):
hollow and harsh. Six tumbrels carry the day's wine to
La Guillotine. All the devouring and insatiate monsters, imagine, since
imagination could record itself, are fused in the one realization guillotine.
And yet there is not, in France, with its rich
variety of soil and climate, a blade, a leaf, a root,

(03:16:26):
a sprig, a peppercorn, which will grow to maturity under
conditions more certain than those that have produced this horror
crush humanity out of shape once more under similar hammers,
and it will twist itself into the same tortured forms,
sow the same seed of rapacious license and oppression over again,
and it will surely yield the same fruit according to

(03:16:48):
its kind. Six tumbrels roll along the streets, change these
back again to what they were, Thou powerful enchanter time,
and they shall be seen to be the carriages of
absolute monarchs, the equipages of feudal nobles, the toilets of
flaring jezebels, the churches that are not my father's house,
but dens of thieves, the huts of millions of starving peasants. No,

(03:17:12):
the great magician, who majestically works out the appointed order
of the Creator, never reverses his transformations. If thou be
changed into this shape by the will of God, say
the seers to the enchanted in the wise Arabian stories,
then remain so. But if thou wear this form through
mere passing conjuration, then resume thy former aspect, changeless and hopeless.

(03:17:35):
The tumbrels roll along as the somber wheels of the
six carts go round. They seem to plow up a long,
crooked furrow among the populace. In the streets. Ridges of
faces are thrown to this side and to that, and
the plows go steadily onward. So used are the regular
inhabitants of the houses to the spectacle that in many

(03:17:55):
windows there are no people, and in some the occupation
of the hands is not so much much as suspended,
while the eyes survey the faces in the tumbrels. Here
and there the inmate has visitors to see the sight.
Then he points his finger with something of the complacency
of a curator or authorized exponent, to this cart and
to this, and seems to tell who sat here yesterday

(03:18:16):
and who there the day before. Of the riders in
the tumbrils, some observe these things and all things on
their last roadside with an impassive stare others with a
lingering interest in the ways of life, and men, some
seated with drooping heads, are sunk in silent despair. Again,
there are some so heedful of their looks that they

(03:18:38):
cast upon the multitude such glances as they have seen
in theaters and in pictures. Several close their eyes and
think or try to get their straying thoughts together. Only one,
and he, a miserable creature of a crazed aspect, is
so shattered and made drunk by horror that he sings
and tries to dance. Not one of the whole number

(03:19:00):
appeals by look or gesture to the pity of the people.
There is a guard of sundry horsemen riding abreast of
the tumbrels and faces are often turned up to some
of them, and they are asked some question. It would
seem to be always the same question, for it is
always followed by a press of people towards the third cart.
The horsemen abreast of that cart frequently point out one

(03:19:23):
man in it with their swords. The leading curiosity is
to know which is he. He stands at the back
of the tumbrel with his head bent down to converse
with a mere girl who sits on the side of
the cart and holds his hand. He has no curiosity
or care for the scene about him, and always speaks
to the girl. Here and there in the long street

(03:19:44):
of Sanore. Cries are raised against him. If they move
him at all, it is only to a quiet smile.
As he shakes his hair a little more loosely about
his face. He cannot easily touch his face, his arms
being bound on the steps a church. Awaiting the coming
up of the tumbrels, stands the spy and prison sheep.

(03:20:05):
He looks into the first of them. Not there, He
looks into the second. Not there. He already asks himself,
as he sacrificed me. When his face clears as he
looks into the third, which is Evremond, says a man
behind him that at the back there with his hand

(03:20:25):
in the girls. Yes, the man cries, down Evremonde, to
the guillotine, All aristocrats, down, Evremonde. Hush, hush. The spy
entreats him timidly, and why not, citizen, he is going
to pay the forfeit. It will be paid in five

(03:20:46):
minutes more. Let him be at peace. But the man
continuing to exclaim down Evremond. The face of Evremond is
for a moment turned towards him. Evremond then sees the
spy and looks at at him, and goes his way.
The clocks are on the stroke of three, and the
furrow plowed among the populace is turning round to come

(03:21:08):
on into the place of execution and end. The ridges
thrown to this side and to that now crumble in
and close behind the last plow as it passes on,
for all are following to the guillotine. In front of it,
seated in chairs as in a garden of public diversion,
are a number of women busily knitting. On one of

(03:21:28):
the four most chairs, stands the Vengeance, looking about for
her friend Teres. She cries in her shrill tones. Who
has seen her thees defarge She never missed before, says
a knitting woman of the sisterhood. No nor will she
miss now, cries the vengeance petulantly. Teres louder. The woman recommends,

(03:21:55):
I louder, vengeance, much louder. And still she will scarcely
hear thee louder. Yet vengeance with a little oath or
so added, And yet it will hardly bring her. Send
other women up and down to seek her lingering somewhere.
And yet although the messengers have done dread deeds, it
is questionable whether of their own wills they will go

(03:22:17):
far enough to find her bad fortune, cries the vengeance,
stamping her foot in the chair. And here are the tumbrels,
and Evremond will be despatched in a wink, and she
not here see her knitting in my hand, and her
empty chair ready for her. I cry with vexation and disappointment.

(03:22:37):
As the vengeance descends from her elevation to do it,
the tumbrels begin to discharge their loads. The ministers of
Saint Guillotine are robed and ready crash Ahead is held up,
and the knitting women who scarcely lifted their eyes to
look at it, a moment ago when it could think
and speak. Count one. The second tumbrel empties and moves on.

(03:22:58):
The third comes up crash, and the knitting women never
faltering or pausing in their work. Count two. The supposed
Evremond descends and the seamstress is lifted out next after him.
He has not relinquished her patient hand in getting out,
but still holds it as he promised. He gently places her,

(03:23:20):
with her back to the crashing engine that constantly wears
up and falls, and she looks into his face and
thanks him. But for you, dear stranger, I should not
be so composed, for I am naturally a poor little thing,
faint of heart. Nor should I have been able to
raise my thoughts to him who was put to death
that we might have hope and comfort here to day.

(03:23:40):
I think you were sent to me by Heaven, or
you to me, says Sidney Carton. Keep your eyes upon me,
dear child, and mind no other object. I mind nothing
while I hold your hand. I shall mind nothing when
I let it go. If they are rapid, they will
be rapid. Fear not. The two stand in the fastenning

(03:24:02):
throng of victims, but they speak as if they were alone.
I to I, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart
to heart. These two children of the Universal Mother, else
so wide apart in differing, have come together on the
dark highway to repair home together and to rest in
her bosom. Brave and generous friend, will you let me

(03:24:22):
ask you one last question. I am very ignorant, and
it troubles me just a little. Tell me what it is.
I have a cousin, an only relative, and an orphan
like myself, whom I love very dearly. She is five
years younger than I, and she lives in a farmer's
house in the south country. Poverty parted us, and she

(03:24:44):
knows nothing of my fate, for I cannot write. And
if I could, how should I tell her? It is
better as it is? Yes, yes, better as it is.
What I have been thinking as we came along, and
what I am still thinking now as I look into
your kind, strong face, which gives me so much support,
is this, If the Republic really does good to the poor,

(03:25:07):
and they come to be less hungry, and in all
ways to suffer less, she may live a long time,
she may even live to be old. What then, my
gentle sister, do you think the uncomplaining eyes in which
there is so much endurance fill with tears and the
lips part a little more and tremble, that it will
seem long to me while I wait for her in

(03:25:28):
the better land, where I trust both you and I
will be mercifully sheltered. It cannot be my child. There
is no time there and no trouble there. You comfort
me so much. I am so ignorant? Am I to
kiss you? Now? Is the moment? Come? Yes? She kisses
his lips, he kisses hers. They solemnly bless each other.

(03:25:52):
The spare hand does not tremble as he releases it.
Nothing worse than a sweet, bright constancy is in the
patient face. She goes next before him is gone. The
knitting women count twenty two. I am the resurrection in
the life set the Lord, He that believeth in me,
though he were dead, Yet shall he live. And whosoever

(03:26:13):
liveth and believeth in me, shall never die. The murmuring
of many voices, the upturning of many faces, the pressing
on of many footsteps in the outskirts of the crowd,
so that it swells forward in a mass, like one
great heave of water, all flashes away. Twenty three. They
said of him about the city that night, that it

(03:26:33):
was the peaceifulest man's face ever beheld there. Many added
that he looked sublime and prophetic, one of the most
remarkable sufferers. By the same acts. A woman had asked
at the foot of the same scaffold not long before,
to be allowed to write down the thoughts that were
inspiring her. If he had given any utterance to his

(03:26:54):
and they were prophetic, they would have been these. I
see barsad and cly defarge, the vengeance, the jury man,
the judge, long ranks of the new oppressors, who have
risen on the destruction of the old, perishing by this
retributive instrument before it shall cease out of its present use.
I see a beautiful city, in a brilliant people rising

(03:27:14):
from this abyss, and in their struggles to be truly free,
in their triumphs and defeats through long years to come.
I see the evil of this time and of the
previous time, of which this is the natural birth, gradually
making expiation for itself and wearing out. I see the
lives for which I laid down my life peaceful, useful, prosperous,

(03:27:34):
and happy in that england which I shall see no more.
I see her with a child upon her bosom, who
bears my name. I see her father, aged and bent,
but otherwise restored and faithful to all men, in his
healing office and at peace. I see the good old man,
so long their friend in ten years time, enriching them

(03:27:55):
with all he has, and passing tranquility to his reward.
I I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts,
and in the hearts of their descendants generations. Hence I
see her, an old woman weeping for me on the
anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband,
their course done, lying side by side in their last

(03:28:16):
earthly bed, And I know that each was not more
honored and held sacred in the other's soul than I
was in the souls of both. I see that child
who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name,
a man winning his way up in that path of
life which once was mine. I see him winning it
so well that my name is made illustrious there by
the light of his. I see the blots I threw

(03:28:38):
upon it faded away. I see him for most of
just judges and honored men, bringing a boy of my
name with a forehead that I know and golden hair
to this place, then fair to look upon, with not
a trace of this day's disfigurement. And I hear him
tell the child my story with a tender and a
faltering voice. It is afar far better thing that I

(03:29:00):
do than I have ever done. It is a far
far better rest that I go to than I have
ever known.

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A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens - Part 2/2

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens - Part 2/2