Repository: apex-malhar Updated Branches: refs/heads/master 883153fad -> 67b84dda4
http://git-wip-us.apache.org/repos/asf/apex-malhar/blob/7a77274a/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt ---------------------------------------------------------------------- diff --git a/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt b/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6081b30 --- /dev/null +++ b/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16271 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Tale of Two Cities + A Story of the French Revolution + +Author: Charles Dickens + +Release Date: January, 1994 [EBook #98] +Posting Date: November 28, 2009 +[Last updated: November 27, 2013] + +Language: English + + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TALE OF TWO CITIES *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss + + + + + + + + +A TALE OF TWO CITIES + +A STORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION + +By Charles Dickens + + +CONTENTS + + + Book the First--Recalled to Life + + Chapter I The Period + Chapter II The Mail + Chapter III The Night Shadows + Chapter IV The Preparation + Chapter V The Wine-shop + Chapter VI The Shoemaker + + + Book the Second--the Golden Thread + + Chapter I Five Years Later + Chapter II A Sight + Chapter III A Disappointment + Chapter IV Congratulatory + Chapter V The Jackal + Chapter VI Hundreds of People + Chapter VII Monseigneur in Town + Chapter VIII Monseigneur in the Country + Chapter IX The Gorgon's Head + Chapter X Two Promises + Chapter XI A Companion Picture + Chapter XII The Fellow of Delicacy + Chapter XIII The Fellow of no Delicacy + Chapter XIV The Honest Tradesman + Chapter XV Knitting + Chapter XVI Still Knitting + Chapter XVII One Night + Chapter XVIII Nine Days + Chapter XIX An Opinion + Chapter XX A Plea + Chapter XXI Echoing Footsteps + Chapter XXII The Sea Still Rises + Chapter XXIII Fire Rises + Chapter XXIV Drawn to the Loadstone Rock + + + Book the Third--the Track of a Storm + + Chapter I In Secret + Chapter II The Grindstone + Chapter III The Shadow + Chapter IV Calm in Storm + Chapter V The Wood-sawyer + Chapter VI Triumph + Chapter VII A Knock at the Door + Chapter VIII A Hand at Cards + Chapter IX The Game Made + Chapter X The Substance of the Shadow + Chapter XI Dusk + Chapter XII Darkness + Chapter XIII Fifty-two + Chapter XIV The Knitting Done + Chapter XV The Footsteps Die Out For Ever + + + + + +Book the First--Recalled to Life + + + + +I. The Period + + +It was the best of times, +it was the worst of times, +it was the age of wisdom, +it was the age of foolishness, +it was the epoch of belief, +it was the epoch of incredulity, +it was the season of Light, +it was the season of Darkness, +it was the spring of hope, +it was the winter of despair, +we had everything before us, +we had nothing before us, +we were all going direct to Heaven, +we were all going direct the other way-- +in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of +its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for +evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. + +There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the +throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with +a fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer +than crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, +that things in general were settled for ever. + +It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. +Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period, +as at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth +blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had +heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were +made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster. Even the Cock-lane +ghost had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping out its +messages, as the spirits of this very year last past (supernaturally +deficient in originality) rapped out theirs. Mere messages in the +earthly order of events had lately come to the English Crown and People, +from a congress of British subjects in America: which, strange +to relate, have proved more important to the human race than any +communications yet received through any of the chickens of the Cock-lane +brood. + +France, less favoured on the whole as to matters spiritual than her +sister of the shield and trident, rolled with exceeding smoothness down +hill, making paper money and spending it. Under the guidance of her +Christian pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with such humane +achievements as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his tongue +torn out with pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not +kneeled down in the rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks +which passed within his view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty +yards. It is likely enough that, rooted in the woods of France and +Norway, there were growing trees, when that sufferer was put to death, +already marked by the Woodman, Fate, to come down and be sawn into +boards, to make a certain movable framework with a sack and a knife in +it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in the rough outhouses +of some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there were +sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts, bespattered with +rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which +the Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils of +the Revolution. But that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work +unceasingly, work silently, and no one heard them as they went about +with muffled tread: the rather, forasmuch as to entertain any suspicion +that they were awake, was to be atheistical and traitorous. + +In England, there was scarcely an amount of order and protection to +justify much national boasting. Daring burglaries by armed men, and +highway robberies, took place in the capital itself every night; +families were publicly cautioned not to go out of town without removing +their furniture to upholsterers' warehouses for security; the highwayman +in the dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised and +challenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of +"the Captain," gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the +mail was waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, and +then got shot dead himself by the other four, "in consequence of the +failure of his ammunition:" after which the mail was robbed in peace; +that magnificent potentate, the Lord Mayor of London, was made to stand +and deliver on Turnham Green, by one highwayman, who despoiled the +illustrious creature in sight of all his retinue; prisoners in London +gaols fought battles with their turnkeys, and the majesty of the law +fired blunderbusses in among them, loaded with rounds of shot and ball; +thieves snipped off diamond crosses from the necks of noble lords at +Court drawing-rooms; musketeers went into St. Giles's, to search +for contraband goods, and the mob fired on the musketeers, and the +musketeers fired on the mob, and nobody thought any of these occurrences +much out of the common way. In the midst of them, the hangman, ever busy +and ever worse than useless, was in constant requisition; now, stringing +up long rows of miscellaneous criminals; now, hanging a housebreaker on +Saturday who had been taken on Tuesday; now, burning people in the +hand at Newgate by the dozen, and now burning pamphlets at the door of +Westminster Hall; to-day, taking the life of an atrocious murderer, +and to-morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a farmer's boy of +sixpence. + +All these things, and a thousand like them, came to pass in and close +upon the dear old year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. +Environed by them, while the Woodman and the Farmer worked unheeded, +those two of the large jaws, and those other two of the plain and the +fair faces, trod with stir enough, and carried their divine rights +with a high hand. Thus did the year one thousand seven hundred +and seventy-five conduct their Greatnesses, and myriads of small +creatures--the creatures of this chronicle among the rest--along the +roads that lay before them. + + + + +II. The Mail + + +It was the Dover road that lay, on a Friday night late in November, +before the first of the persons with whom this history has business. +The Dover road lay, as to him, beyond the Dover mail, as it lumbered up +Shooter's Hill. He walked up hill in the mire by the side of the mail, +as the rest of the passengers did; not because they had the least relish +for walking exercise, under the circumstances, but because the hill, +and the harness, and the mud, and the mail, were all so heavy, that the +horses had three times already come to a stop, besides once drawing the +coach across the road, with the mutinous intent of taking it back +to Blackheath. Reins and whip and coachman and guard, however, in +combination, had read that article of war which forbade a purpose +otherwise strongly in favour of the argument, that some brute animals +are endued with Reason; and the team had capitulated and returned to +their duty. + +With drooping heads and tremulous tails, they mashed their way through +the thick mud, floundering and stumbling between whiles, as if they were +falling to pieces at the larger joints. As often as the driver rested +them and brought them to a stand, with a wary "Wo-ho! so-ho-then!" the +near leader violently shook his head and everything upon it--like an +unusually emphatic horse, denying that the coach could be got up the +hill. Whenever the leader made this rattle, the passenger started, as a +nervous passenger might, and was disturbed in mind. + +There was a steaming mist in all the hollows, and it had roamed in its +forlornness up the hill, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and finding +none. A clammy and intensely cold mist, it made its slow way through the +air in ripples that visibly followed and overspread one another, as the +waves of an unwholesome sea might do. It was dense enough to shut out +everything from the light of the coach-lamps but these its own workings, +and a few yards of road; and the reek of the labouring horses steamed +into it, as if they had made it all. + +Two other passengers, besides the one, were plodding up the hill by the +side of the mail. All three were wrapped to the cheekbones and over the +ears, and wore jack-boots. Not one of the three could have said, from +anything he saw, what either of the other two was like; and each was +hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind, as from +the eyes of the body, of his two companions. In those days, travellers +were very shy of being confidential on a short notice, for anybody on +the road might be a robber or in league with robbers. As to the latter, +when every posting-house and ale-house could produce somebody in +"the Captain's" pay, ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable +non-descript, it was the likeliest thing upon the cards. So the guard +of the Dover mail thought to himself, that Friday night in November, one +thousand seven hundred and seventy-five, lumbering up Shooter's Hill, as +he stood on his own particular perch behind the mail, beating his feet, +and keeping an eye and a hand on the arm-chest before him, where a +loaded blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight loaded horse-pistols, +deposited on a substratum of cutlass. + +The Dover mail was in its usual genial position that the guard suspected +the passengers, the passengers suspected one another and the guard, they +all suspected everybody else, and the coachman was sure of nothing but +the horses; as to which cattle he could with a clear conscience have +taken his oath on the two Testaments that they were not fit for the +journey. + +"Wo-ho!" said the coachman. "So, then! One more pull and you're at the +top and be damned to you, for I have had trouble enough to get you to +it!--Joe!" + +"Halloa!" the guard replied. + +"What o'clock do you make it, Joe?" + +"Ten minutes, good, past eleven." + +"My blood!" ejaculated the vexed coachman, "and not atop of Shooter's +yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!" + +The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip in a most decided negative, +made a decided scramble for it, and the three other horses followed +suit. Once more, the Dover mail struggled on, with the jack-boots of its +passengers squashing along by its side. They had stopped when the coach +stopped, and they kept close company with it. If any one of the three +had had the hardihood to propose to another to walk on a little ahead +into the mist and darkness, he would have put himself in a fair way of +getting shot instantly as a highwayman. + +The last burst carried the mail to the summit of the hill. The horses +stopped to breathe again, and the guard got down to skid the wheel for +the descent, and open the coach-door to let the passengers in. + +"Tst! Joe!" cried the coachman in a warning voice, looking down from his +box. + +"What do you say, Tom?" + +They both listened. + +"I say a horse at a canter coming up, Joe." + +"_I_ say a horse at a gallop, Tom," returned the guard, leaving his hold +of the door, and mounting nimbly to his place. "Gentlemen! In the king's +name, all of you!" + +With this hurried adjuration, he cocked his blunderbuss, and stood on +the offensive. + +The passenger booked by this history, was on the coach-step, getting in; +the two other passengers were close behind him, and about to follow. He +remained on the step, half in the coach and half out of; they remained +in the road below him. They all looked from the coachman to the guard, +and from the guard to the coachman, and listened. The coachman looked +back and the guard looked back, and even the emphatic leader pricked up +his ears and looked back, without contradicting. + +The stillness consequent on the cessation of the rumbling and labouring +of the coach, added to the stillness of the night, made it very quiet +indeed. The panting of the horses communicated a tremulous motion to +the coach, as if it were in a state of agitation. The hearts of the +passengers beat loud enough perhaps to be heard; but at any rate, the +quiet pause was audibly expressive of people out of breath, and holding +the breath, and having the pulses quickened by expectation. + +The sound of a horse at a gallop came fast and furiously up the hill. + +"So-ho!" the guard sang out, as loud as he could roar. "Yo there! Stand! +I shall fire!" + +The pace was suddenly checked, and, with much splashing and floundering, +a man's voice called from the mist, "Is that the Dover mail?" + +"Never you mind what it is!" the guard retorted. "What are you?" + +"_Is_ that the Dover mail?" + +"Why do you want to know?" + +"I want a passenger, if it is." + +"What passenger?" + +"Mr. Jarvis Lorry." + +Our booked passenger showed in a moment that it was his name. The guard, +the coachman, and the two other passengers eyed him distrustfully. + +"Keep where you are," the guard called to the voice in the mist, +"because, if I should make a mistake, it could never be set right in +your lifetime. Gentleman of the name of Lorry answer straight." + +"What is the matter?" asked the passenger, then, with mildly quavering +speech. "Who wants me? Is it Jerry?" + +("I don't like Jerry's voice, if it is Jerry," growled the guard to +himself. "He's hoarser than suits me, is Jerry.") + +"Yes, Mr. Lorry." + +"What is the matter?" + +"A despatch sent after you from over yonder. T. and Co." + +"I know this messenger, guard," said Mr. Lorry, getting down into the +road--assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two +passengers, who immediately scrambled into the coach, shut the door, and +pulled up the window. "He may come close; there's nothing wrong." + +"I hope there ain't, but I can't make so 'Nation sure of that," said the +guard, in gruff soliloquy. "Hallo you!" + +"Well! And hallo you!" said Jerry, more hoarsely than before. + +"Come on at a footpace! d'ye mind me? And if you've got holsters to that +saddle o' yourn, don't let me see your hand go nigh 'em. For I'm a devil +at a quick mistake, and when I make one it takes the form of Lead. So +now let's look at you." + +The figures of a horse and rider came slowly through the eddying mist, +and came to the side of the mail, where the passenger stood. The rider +stooped, and, casting up his eyes at the guard, handed the passenger +a small folded paper. The rider's horse was blown, and both horse and +rider were covered with mud, from the hoofs of the horse to the hat of +the man. + +"Guard!" said the passenger, in a tone of quiet business confidence. + +The watchful guard, with his right hand at the stock of his raised +blunderbuss, his left at the barrel, and his eye on the horseman, +answered curtly, "Sir." + +"There is nothing to apprehend. I belong to Tellson's Bank. You must +know Tellson's Bank in London. I am going to Paris on business. A crown +to drink. I may read this?" + +"If so be as you're quick, sir." + +He opened it in the light of the coach-lamp on that side, and +read--first to himself and then aloud: "'Wait at Dover for Mam'selle.' +It's not long, you see, guard. Jerry, say that my answer was, RECALLED +TO LIFE." + +Jerry started in his saddle. "That's a Blazing strange answer, too," +said he, at his hoarsest. + +"Take that message back, and they will know that I received this, as +well as if I wrote. Make the best of your way. Good night." + +With those words the passenger opened the coach-door and got in; not at +all assisted by his fellow-passengers, who had expeditiously secreted +their watches and purses in their boots, and were now making a general +pretence of being asleep. With no more definite purpose than to escape +the hazard of originating any other kind of action. + +The coach lumbered on again, with heavier wreaths of mist closing round +it as it began the descent. The guard soon replaced his blunderbuss +in his arm-chest, and, having looked to the rest of its contents, and +having looked to the supplementary pistols that he wore in his belt, +looked to a smaller chest beneath his seat, in which there were a +few smith's tools, a couple of torches, and a tinder-box. For he was +furnished with that completeness that if the coach-lamps had been blown +and stormed out, which did occasionally happen, he had only to shut +himself up inside, keep the flint and steel sparks well off the straw, +and get a light with tolerable safety and ease (if he were lucky) in +five minutes. + +"Tom!" softly over the coach roof. + +"Hallo, Joe." + +"Did you hear the message?" + +"I did, Joe." + +"What did you make of it, Tom?" + +"Nothing at all, Joe." + +"That's a coincidence, too," the guard mused, "for I made the same of it +myself." + +Jerry, left alone in the mist and darkness, dismounted meanwhile, not +only to ease his spent horse, but to wipe the mud from his face, and +shake the wet out of his hat-brim, which might be capable of +holding about half a gallon. After standing with the bridle over his +heavily-splashed arm, until the wheels of the mail were no longer within +hearing and the night was quite still again, he turned to walk down the +hill. + +"After that there gallop from Temple Bar, old lady, I won't trust your +fore-legs till I get you on the level," said this hoarse messenger, +glancing at his mare. "'Recalled to life.' That's a Blazing strange +message. Much of that wouldn't do for you, Jerry! I say, Jerry! You'd +be in a Blazing bad way, if recalling to life was to come into fashion, +Jerry!" + + + + +III. The Night Shadows + + +A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is +constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A +solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every +one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every +room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating +heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of +its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! Something of the +awfulness, even of Death itself, is referable to this. No more can I +turn the leaves of this dear book that I loved, and vainly hope in time +to read it all. No more can I look into the depths of this unfathomable +water, wherein, as momentary lights glanced into it, I have had glimpses +of buried treasure and other things submerged. It was appointed that the +book should shut with a spring, for ever and for ever, when I had read +but a page. It was appointed that the water should be locked in an +eternal frost, when the light was playing on its surface, and I stood +in ignorance on the shore. My friend is dead, my neighbour is dead, +my love, the darling of my soul, is dead; it is the inexorable +consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was always in that +individuality, and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end. In +any of the burial-places of this city through which I pass, is there +a sleeper more inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their +innermost personality, to me, or than I am to them? + +As to this, his natural and not to be alienated inheritance, the +messenger on horseback had exactly the same possessions as the King, the +first Minister of State, or the richest merchant in London. So with the +three passengers shut up in the narrow compass of one lumbering old mail +coach; they were mysteries to one another, as complete as if each had +been in his own coach and six, or his own coach and sixty, with the +breadth of a county between him and the next. + +The messenger rode back at an easy trot, stopping pretty often at +ale-houses by the way to drink, but evincing a tendency to keep his +own counsel, and to keep his hat cocked over his eyes. He had eyes that +assorted very well with that decoration, being of a surface black, with +no depth in the colour or form, and much too near together--as if they +were afraid of being found out in something, singly, if they kept too +far apart. They had a sinister expression, under an old cocked-hat like +a three-cornered spittoon, and over a great muffler for the chin and +throat, which descended nearly to the wearer's knees. When he stopped +for drink, he moved this muffler with his left hand, only while he +poured his liquor in with his right; as soon as that was done, he +muffled again. + +"No, Jerry, no!" said the messenger, harping on one theme as he rode. +"It wouldn't do for you, Jerry. Jerry, you honest tradesman, it wouldn't +suit _your_ line of business! Recalled--! Bust me if I don't think he'd +been a drinking!" + +His message perplexed his mind to that degree that he was fain, several +times, to take off his hat to scratch his head. Except on the crown, +which was raggedly bald, he had stiff, black hair, standing jaggedly all +over it, and growing down hill almost to his broad, blunt nose. It was +so like Smith's work, so much more like the top of a strongly spiked +wall than a head of hair, that the best of players at leap-frog might +have declined him, as the most dangerous man in the world to go over. + +While he trotted back with the message he was to deliver to the night +watchman in his box at the door of Tellson's Bank, by Temple Bar, who +was to deliver it to greater authorities within, the shadows of the +night took such shapes to him as arose out of the message, and took such +shapes to the mare as arose out of _her_ private topics of uneasiness. +They seemed to be numerous, for she shied at every shadow on the road. + +What time, the mail-coach lumbered, jolted, rattled, and bumped upon +its tedious way, with its three fellow-inscrutables inside. To whom, +likewise, the shadows of the night revealed themselves, in the forms +their dozing eyes and wandering thoughts suggested. + +Tellson's Bank had a run upon it in the mail. As the bank +passenger--with an arm drawn through the leathern strap, which did what +lay in it to keep him from pounding against the next passenger, +and driving him into his corner, whenever the coach got a special +jolt--nodded in his place, with half-shut eyes, the little +coach-windows, and the coach-lamp dimly gleaming through them, and the +bulky bundle of opposite passenger, became the bank, and did a great +stroke of business. The rattle of the harness was the chink of money, +and more drafts were honoured in five minutes than even Tellson's, with +all its foreign and home connection, ever paid in thrice the time. Then +the strong-rooms underground, at Tellson's, with such of their valuable +stores and secrets as were known to the passenger (and it was not a +little that he knew about them), opened before him, and he went in among +them with the great keys and the feebly-burning candle, and found them +safe, and strong, and sound, and still, just as he had last seen them. + +But, though the bank was almost always with him, and though the coach +(in a confused way, like the presence of pain under an opiate) was +always with him, there was another current of impression that never +ceased to run, all through the night. He was on his way to dig some one +out of a grave. + +Now, which of the multitude of faces that showed themselves before him +was the true face of the buried person, the shadows of the night did +not indicate; but they were all the faces of a man of five-and-forty by +years, and they differed principally in the passions they expressed, +and in the ghastliness of their worn and wasted state. Pride, contempt, +defiance, stubbornness, submission, lamentation, succeeded one another; +so did varieties of sunken cheek, cadaverous colour, emaciated hands +and figures. But the face was in the main one face, and every head was +prematurely white. A hundred times the dozing passenger inquired of this +spectre: + +"Buried how long?" + +The answer was always the same: "Almost eighteen years." + +"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?" + +"Long ago." + +"You know that you are recalled to life?" + +"They tell me so." + +"I hope you care to live?" + +"I can't say." + +"Shall I show her to you? Will you come and see her?" + +The answers to this question were various and contradictory. Sometimes +the broken reply was, "Wait! It would kill me if I saw her too soon." +Sometimes, it was given in a tender rain of tears, and then it was, +"Take me to her." Sometimes it was staring and bewildered, and then it +was, "I don't know her. I don't understand." + +After such imaginary discourse, the passenger in his fancy would dig, +and dig, dig--now with a spade, now with a great key, now with his +hands--to dig this wretched creature out. Got out at last, with earth +hanging about his face and hair, he would suddenly fan away to dust. The +passenger would then start to himself, and lower the window, to get the +reality of mist and rain on his cheek. + +Yet even when his eyes were opened on the mist and rain, on the moving +patch of light from the lamps, and the hedge at the roadside retreating +by jerks, the night shadows outside the coach would fall into the train +of the night shadows within. The real Banking-house by Temple Bar, the +real business of the past day, the real strong rooms, the real express +sent after him, and the real message returned, would all be there. Out +of the midst of them, the ghostly face would rise, and he would accost +it again. + +"Buried how long?" + +"Almost eighteen years." + +"I hope you care to live?" + +"I can't say." + +Dig--dig--dig--until an impatient movement from one of the two +passengers would admonish him to pull up the window, draw his arm +securely through the leathern strap, and speculate upon the two +slumbering forms, until his mind lost its hold of them, and they again +slid away into the bank and the grave. + +"Buried how long?" + +"Almost eighteen years." + +"You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?" + +"Long ago." + +The words were still in his hearing as just spoken--distinctly in +his hearing as ever spoken words had been in his life--when the weary +passenger started to the consciousness of daylight, and found that the +shadows of the night were gone. + +He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There was a +ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had been left +last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet coppice-wood, +in which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still remained +upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, +and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful. + +"Eighteen years!" said the passenger, looking at the sun. "Gracious +Creator of day! To be buried alive for eighteen years!" + + + + +IV. The Preparation + + +When the mail got successfully to Dover, in the course of the forenoon, +the head drawer at the Royal George Hotel opened the coach-door as his +custom was. He did it with some flourish of ceremony, for a mail journey +from London in winter was an achievement to congratulate an adventurous +traveller upon. + +By that time, there was only one adventurous traveller left be +congratulated: for the two others had been set down at their respective +roadside destinations. The mildewy inside of the coach, with its damp +and dirty straw, its disagreeable smell, and its obscurity, was rather +like a larger dog-kennel. Mr. Lorry, the passenger, shaking himself out +of it in chains of straw, a tangle of shaggy wrapper, flapping hat, and +muddy legs, was rather like a larger sort of dog. + +"There will be a packet to Calais, tomorrow, drawer?" + +"Yes, sir, if the weather holds and the wind sets tolerable fair. The +tide will serve pretty nicely at about two in the afternoon, sir. Bed, +sir?" + +"I shall not go to bed till night; but I want a bedroom, and a barber." + +"And then breakfast, sir? Yes, sir. That way, sir, if you please. +Show Concord! Gentleman's valise and hot water to Concord. Pull off +gentleman's boots in Concord. (You will find a fine sea-coal fire, sir.) +Fetch barber to Concord. Stir about there, now, for Concord!" + +The Concord bed-chamber being always assigned to a passenger by the +mail, and passengers by the mail being always heavily wrapped up from +head to foot, the room had the odd interest for the establishment of the +Royal George, that although but one kind of man was seen to go into it, +all kinds and varieties of men came out of it. Consequently, another +drawer, and two porters, and several maids and the landlady, were all +loitering by accident at various points of the road between the Concord +and the coffee-room, when a gentleman of sixty, formally dressed in a +brown suit of clothes, pretty well worn, but very well kept, with large +square cuffs and large flaps to the pockets, passed along on his way to +his breakfast. + +The coffee-room had no other occupant, that forenoon, than the gentleman +in brown. His breakfast-table was drawn before the fire, and as he sat, +with its light shining on him, waiting for the meal, he sat so still, +that he might have been sitting for his portrait. + +Very orderly and methodical he looked, with a hand on each knee, and a +loud watch ticking a sonorous sermon under his flapped waist-coat, +as though it pitted its gravity and longevity against the levity and +evanescence of the brisk fire. He had a good leg, and was a little vain +of it, for his brown stockings fitted sleek and close, and were of a +fine texture; his shoes and buckles, too, though plain, were trim. He +wore an odd little sleek crisp flaxen wig, setting very close to his +head: which wig, it is to be presumed, was made of hair, but which +looked far more as though it were spun from filaments of silk or glass. +His linen, though not of a fineness in accordance with his stockings, +was as white as the tops of the waves that broke upon the neighbouring +beach, or the specks of sail that glinted in the sunlight far at sea. A +face habitually suppressed and quieted, was still lighted up under the +quaint wig by a pair of moist bright eyes that it must have cost +their owner, in years gone by, some pains to drill to the composed and +reserved expression of Tellson's Bank. He had a healthy colour in his +cheeks, and his face, though lined, bore few traces of anxiety. +But, perhaps the confidential bachelor clerks in Tellson's Bank were +principally occupied with the cares of other people; and perhaps +second-hand cares, like second-hand clothes, come easily off and on. + +Completing his resemblance to a man who was sitting for his portrait, +Mr. Lorry dropped off to sleep. The arrival of his breakfast roused him, +and he said to the drawer, as he moved his chair to it: + +"I wish accommodation prepared for a young lady who may come here at any +time to-day. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or she may only ask for a +gentleman from Tellson's Bank. Please to let me know." + +"Yes, sir. Tellson's Bank in London, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"Yes, sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your gentlemen in +their travelling backwards and forwards betwixt London and Paris, sir. A +vast deal of travelling, sir, in Tellson and Company's House." + +"Yes. We are quite a French House, as well as an English one." + +"Yes, sir. Not much in the habit of such travelling yourself, I think, +sir?" + +"Not of late years. It is fifteen years since we--since I--came last +from France." + +"Indeed, sir? That was before my time here, sir. Before our people's +time here, sir. The George was in other hands at that time, sir." + +"I believe so." + +"But I would hold a pretty wager, sir, that a House like Tellson and +Company was flourishing, a matter of fifty, not to speak of fifteen +years ago?" + +"You might treble that, and say a hundred and fifty, yet not be far from +the truth." + +"Indeed, sir!" + +Rounding his mouth and both his eyes, as he stepped backward from the +table, the waiter shifted his napkin from his right arm to his left, +dropped into a comfortable attitude, and stood surveying the guest while +he ate and drank, as from an observatory or watchtower. According to the +immemorial usage of waiters in all ages. + +When Mr. Lorry had finished his breakfast, he went out for a stroll on +the beach. The little narrow, crooked town of Dover hid itself away +from the beach, and ran its head into the chalk cliffs, like a marine +ostrich. The beach was a desert of heaps of sea and stones tumbling +wildly about, and the sea did what it liked, and what it liked was +destruction. It thundered at the town, and thundered at the cliffs, and +brought the coast down, madly. The air among the houses was of so strong +a piscatory flavour that one might have supposed sick fish went up to be +dipped in it, as sick people went down to be dipped in the sea. A little +fishing was done in the port, and a quantity of strolling about by +night, and looking seaward: particularly at those times when the tide +made, and was near flood. Small tradesmen, who did no business whatever, +sometimes unaccountably realised large fortunes, and it was remarkable +that nobody in the neighbourhood could endure a lamplighter. + +As the day declined into the afternoon, and the air, which had been +at intervals clear enough to allow the French coast to be seen, became +again charged with mist and vapour, Mr. Lorry's thoughts seemed to cloud +too. When it was dark, and he sat before the coffee-room fire, awaiting +his dinner as he had awaited his breakfast, his mind was busily digging, +digging, digging, in the live red coals. + +A bottle of good claret after dinner does a digger in the red coals no +harm, otherwise than as it has a tendency to throw him out of work. +Mr. Lorry had been idle a long time, and had just poured out his last +glassful of wine with as complete an appearance of satisfaction as is +ever to be found in an elderly gentleman of a fresh complexion who has +got to the end of a bottle, when a rattling of wheels came up the narrow +street, and rumbled into the inn-yard. + +He set down his glass untouched. "This is Mam'selle!" said he. + +In a very few minutes the waiter came in to announce that Miss Manette +had arrived from London, and would be happy to see the gentleman from +Tellson's. + +"So soon?" + +Miss Manette had taken some refreshment on the road, and required none +then, and was extremely anxious to see the gentleman from Tellson's +immediately, if it suited his pleasure and convenience. + +The gentleman from Tellson's had nothing left for it but to empty his +glass with an air of stolid desperation, settle his odd little flaxen +wig at the ears, and follow the waiter to Miss Manette's apartment. +It was a large, dark room, furnished in a funereal manner with black +horsehair, and loaded with heavy dark tables. These had been oiled and +oiled, until the two tall candles on the table in the middle of the room +were gloomily reflected on every leaf; as if _they_ were buried, in deep +graves of black mahogany, and no light to speak of could be expected +from them until they were dug out. + +The obscurity was so difficult to penetrate that Mr. Lorry, picking his +way over the well-worn Turkey carpet, supposed Miss Manette to be, for +the moment, in some adjacent room, until, having got past the two tall +candles, he saw standing to receive him by the table between them and +the fire, a young lady of not more than seventeen, in a riding-cloak, +and still holding her straw travelling-hat by its ribbon in her hand. As +his eyes rested on a short, slight, pretty figure, a quantity of golden +hair, a pair of blue eyes that met his own with an inquiring look, and +a forehead with a singular capacity (remembering how young and smooth +it was), of rifting and knitting itself into an expression that was +not quite one of perplexity, or wonder, or alarm, or merely of a bright +fixed attention, though it included all the four expressions--as his +eyes rested on these things, a sudden vivid likeness passed before him, +of a child whom he had held in his arms on the passage across that very +Channel, one cold time, when the hail drifted heavily and the sea ran +high. The likeness passed away, like a breath along the surface of +the gaunt pier-glass behind her, on the frame of which, a hospital +procession of negro cupids, several headless and all cripples, were +offering black baskets of Dead Sea fruit to black divinities of the +feminine gender--and he made his formal bow to Miss Manette. + +"Pray take a seat, sir." In a very clear and pleasant young voice; a +little foreign in its accent, but a very little indeed. + +"I kiss your hand, miss," said Mr. Lorry, with the manners of an earlier +date, as he made his formal bow again, and took his seat. + +"I received a letter from the Bank, sir, yesterday, informing me that +some intelligence--or discovery--" + +"The word is not material, miss; either word will do." + +"--respecting the small property of my poor father, whom I never saw--so +long dead--" + +Mr. Lorry moved in his chair, and cast a troubled look towards the +hospital procession of negro cupids. As if _they_ had any help for +anybody in their absurd baskets! + +"--rendered it necessary that I should go to Paris, there to communicate +with a gentleman of the Bank, so good as to be despatched to Paris for +the purpose." + +"Myself." + +"As I was prepared to hear, sir." + +She curtseyed to him (young ladies made curtseys in those days), with a +pretty desire to convey to him that she felt how much older and wiser he +was than she. He made her another bow. + +"I replied to the Bank, sir, that as it was considered necessary, by +those who know, and who are so kind as to advise me, that I should go to +France, and that as I am an orphan and have no friend who could go with +me, I should esteem it highly if I might be permitted to place myself, +during the journey, under that worthy gentleman's protection. The +gentleman had left London, but I think a messenger was sent after him to +beg the favour of his waiting for me here." + +"I was happy," said Mr. Lorry, "to be entrusted with the charge. I shall +be more happy to execute it." + +"Sir, I thank you indeed. I thank you very gratefully. It was told me +by the Bank that the gentleman would explain to me the details of the +business, and that I must prepare myself to find them of a surprising +nature. I have done my best to prepare myself, and I naturally have a +strong and eager interest to know what they are." + +"Naturally," said Mr. Lorry. "Yes--I--" + +After a pause, he added, again settling the crisp flaxen wig at the +ears, "It is very difficult to begin." + +He did not begin, but, in his indecision, met her glance. The young +forehead lifted itself into that singular expression--but it was pretty +and characteristic, besides being singular--and she raised her hand, +as if with an involuntary action she caught at, or stayed some passing +shadow. + +"Are you quite a stranger to me, sir?" + +"Am I not?" Mr. Lorry opened his hands, and extended them outwards with +an argumentative smile. + +Between the eyebrows and just over the little feminine nose, the line of +which was as delicate and fine as it was possible to be, the expression +deepened itself as she took her seat thoughtfully in the chair by which +she had hitherto remained standing. He watched her as she mused, and the +moment she raised her eyes again, went on: + +"In your adopted country, I presume, I cannot do better than address you +as a young English lady, Miss Manette?" + +"If you please, sir." + +"Miss Manette, I am a man of business. I have a business charge to +acquit myself of. In your reception of it, don't heed me any more than +if I was a speaking machine--truly, I am not much else. I will, with +your leave, relate to you, miss, the story of one of our customers." + +"Story!" + +He seemed wilfully to mistake the word she had repeated, when he added, +in a hurry, "Yes, customers; in the banking business we usually call +our connection our customers. He was a French gentleman; a scientific +gentleman; a man of great acquirements--a Doctor." + +"Not of Beauvais?" + +"Why, yes, of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, the +gentleman was of Beauvais. Like Monsieur Manette, your father, the +gentleman was of repute in Paris. I had the honour of knowing him there. +Our relations were business relations, but confidential. I was at that +time in our French House, and had been--oh! twenty years." + +"At that time--I may ask, at what time, sir?" + +"I speak, miss, of twenty years ago. He married--an English lady--and +I was one of the trustees. His affairs, like the affairs of many other +French gentlemen and French families, were entirely in Tellson's hands. +In a similar way I am, or I have been, trustee of one kind or other for +scores of our customers. These are mere business relations, miss; +there is no friendship in them, no particular interest, nothing like +sentiment. I have passed from one to another, in the course of my +business life, just as I pass from one of our customers to another in +the course of my business day; in short, I have no feelings; I am a mere +machine. To go on--" + +"But this is my father's story, sir; and I begin to think"--the +curiously roughened forehead was very intent upon him--"that when I was +left an orphan through my mother's surviving my father only two years, +it was you who brought me to England. I am almost sure it was you." + +Mr. Lorry took the hesitating little hand that confidingly advanced +to take his, and he put it with some ceremony to his lips. He then +conducted the young lady straightway to her chair again, and, holding +the chair-back with his left hand, and using his right by turns to rub +his chin, pull his wig at the ears, or point what he said, stood looking +down into her face while she sat looking up into his. + +"Miss Manette, it _was_ I. And you will see how truly I spoke of myself +just now, in saying I had no feelings, and that all the relations I hold +with my fellow-creatures are mere business relations, when you reflect +that I have never seen you since. No; you have been the ward of +Tellson's House since, and I have been busy with the other business of +Tellson's House since. Feelings! I have no time for them, no chance +of them. I pass my whole life, miss, in turning an immense pecuniary +Mangle." + +After this odd description of his daily routine of employment, Mr. Lorry +flattened his flaxen wig upon his head with both hands (which was most +unnecessary, for nothing could be flatter than its shining surface was +before), and resumed his former attitude. + +"So far, miss (as you have remarked), this is the story of your +regretted father. Now comes the difference. If your father had not died +when he did--Don't be frightened! How you start!" + +She did, indeed, start. And she caught his wrist with both her hands. + +"Pray," said Mr. Lorry, in a soothing tone, bringing his left hand from +the back of the chair to lay it on the supplicatory fingers that clasped +him in so violent a tremble: "pray control your agitation--a matter of +business. As I was saying--" + +Her look so discomposed him that he stopped, wandered, and began anew: + +"As I was saying; if Monsieur Manette had not died; if he had suddenly +and silently disappeared; if he had been spirited away; if it had not +been difficult to guess to what dreadful place, though no art could +trace him; if he had an enemy in some compatriot who could exercise a +privilege that I in my own time have known the boldest people afraid +to speak of in a whisper, across the water there; for instance, the +privilege of filling up blank forms for the consignment of any one +to the oblivion of a prison for any length of time; if his wife had +implored the king, the queen, the court, the clergy, for any tidings of +him, and all quite in vain;--then the history of your father would have +been the history of this unfortunate gentleman, the Doctor of Beauvais." + +"I entreat you to tell me more, sir." + +"I will. I am going to. You can bear it?" + +"I can bear anything but the uncertainty you leave me in at this +moment." + +"You speak collectedly, and you--_are_ collected. That's good!" (Though +his manner was less satisfied than his words.) "A matter of business. +Regard it as a matter of business--business that must be done. Now +if this doctor's wife, though a lady of great courage and spirit, +had suffered so intensely from this cause before her little child was +born--" + +"The little child was a daughter, sir." + +"A daughter. A-a-matter of business--don't be distressed. Miss, if the +poor lady had suffered so intensely before her little child was born, +that she came to the determination of sparing the poor child the +inheritance of any part of the agony she had known the pains of, by +rearing her in the belief that her father was dead--No, don't kneel! In +Heaven's name why should you kneel to me!" + +"For the truth. O dear, good, compassionate sir, for the truth!" + +"A--a matter of business. You confuse me, and how can I transact +business if I am confused? Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindly +mention now, for instance, what nine times ninepence are, or how many +shillings in twenty guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be so +much more at my ease about your state of mind." + +Without directly answering to this appeal, she sat so still when he had +very gently raised her, and the hands that had not ceased to clasp +his wrists were so much more steady than they had been, that she +communicated some reassurance to Mr. Jarvis Lorry. + +"That's right, that's right. Courage! Business! You have business before +you; useful business. Miss Manette, your mother took this course with +you. And when she died--I believe broken-hearted--having never slackened +her unavailing search for your father, she left you, at two years old, +to grow to be blooming, beautiful, and happy, without the dark cloud +upon you of living in uncertainty whether your father soon wore his +heart out in prison, or wasted there through many lingering years." + +As he said the words he looked down, with an admiring pity, on the +flowing golden hair; as if he pictured to himself that it might have +been already tinged with grey. + +"You know that your parents had no great possession, and that what +they had was secured to your mother and to you. There has been no new +discovery, of money, or of any other property; but--" + +He felt his wrist held closer, and he stopped. The expression in the +forehead, which had so particularly attracted his notice, and which was +now immovable, had deepened into one of pain and horror. + +"But he has been--been found. He is alive. Greatly changed, it is too +probable; almost a wreck, it is possible; though we will hope the best. +Still, alive. Your father has been taken to the house of an old servant +in Paris, and we are going there: I, to identify him if I can: you, to +restore him to life, love, duty, rest, comfort." + +A shiver ran through her frame, and from it through his. She said, in a +low, distinct, awe-stricken voice, as if she were saying it in a dream, + +"I am going to see his Ghost! It will be his Ghost--not him!" + +Mr. Lorry quietly chafed the hands that held his arm. "There, there, +there! See now, see now! The best and the worst are known to you, now. +You are well on your way to the poor wronged gentleman, and, with a fair +sea voyage, and a fair land journey, you will be soon at his dear side." + +She repeated in the same tone, sunk to a whisper, "I have been free, I +have been happy, yet his Ghost has never haunted me!" + +"Only one thing more," said Mr. Lorry, laying stress upon it as a +wholesome means of enforcing her attention: "he has been found under +another name; his own, long forgotten or long concealed. It would be +worse than useless now to inquire which; worse than useless to seek to +know whether he has been for years overlooked, or always designedly +held prisoner. It would be worse than useless now to make any inquiries, +because it would be dangerous. Better not to mention the subject, +anywhere or in any way, and to remove him--for a while at all +events--out of France. Even I, safe as an Englishman, and even +Tellson's, important as they are to French credit, avoid all naming of +the matter. I carry about me, not a scrap of writing openly referring +to it. This is a secret service altogether. My credentials, entries, +and memoranda, are all comprehended in the one line, 'Recalled to Life;' +which may mean anything. But what is the matter! She doesn't notice a +word! Miss Manette!" + +Perfectly still and silent, and not even fallen back in her chair, she +sat under his hand, utterly insensible; with her eyes open and fixed +upon him, and with that last expression looking as if it were carved or +branded into her forehead. So close was her hold upon his arm, that he +feared to detach himself lest he should hurt her; therefore he called +out loudly for assistance without moving. + +A wild-looking woman, whom even in his agitation, Mr. Lorry observed to +be all of a red colour, and to have red hair, and to be dressed in some +extraordinary tight-fitting fashion, and to have on her head a most +wonderful bonnet like a Grenadier wooden measure, and good measure too, +or a great Stilton cheese, came running into the room in advance of the +inn servants, and soon settled the question of his detachment from the +poor young lady, by laying a brawny hand upon his chest, and sending him +flying back against the nearest wall. + +("I really think this must be a man!" was Mr. Lorry's breathless +reflection, simultaneously with his coming against the wall.) + +"Why, look at you all!" bawled this figure, addressing the inn servants. +"Why don't you go and fetch things, instead of standing there staring +at me? I am not so much to look at, am I? Why don't you go and fetch +things? I'll let you know, if you don't bring smelling-salts, cold +water, and vinegar, quick, I will." + +There was an immediate dispersal for these restoratives, and she +softly laid the patient on a sofa, and tended her with great skill and +gentleness: calling her "my precious!" and "my bird!" and spreading her +golden hair aside over her shoulders with great pride and care. + +"And you in brown!" she said, indignantly turning to Mr. Lorry; +"couldn't you tell her what you had to tell her, without frightening her +to death? Look at her, with her pretty pale face and her cold hands. Do +you call _that_ being a Banker?" + +Mr. Lorry was so exceedingly disconcerted by a question so hard to +answer, that he could only look on, at a distance, with much feebler +sympathy and humility, while the strong woman, having banished the inn +servants under the mysterious penalty of "letting them know" something +not mentioned if they stayed there, staring, recovered her charge by a +regular series of gradations, and coaxed her to lay her drooping head +upon her shoulder. + +"I hope she will do well now," said Mr. Lorry. + +"No thanks to you in brown, if she does. My darling pretty!" + +"I hope," said Mr. Lorry, after another pause of feeble sympathy and +humility, "that you accompany Miss Manette to France?" + +"A likely thing, too!" replied the strong woman. "If it was ever +intended that I should go across salt water, do you suppose Providence +would have cast my lot in an island?" + +This being another question hard to answer, Mr. Jarvis Lorry withdrew to +consider it. + + + + +V. The Wine-shop + + +A large cask of wine had been dropped and broken, in the street. The +accident had happened in getting it out of a cart; the cask had tumbled +out with a run, the hoops had burst, and it lay on the stones just +outside the door of the wine-shop, shattered like a walnut-shell. + +All the people within reach had suspended their business, or their +idleness, to run to the spot and drink the wine. The rough, irregular +stones of the street, pointing every way, and designed, one might have +thought, expressly to lame all living creatures that approached them, +had dammed it into little pools; these were surrounded, each by its own +jostling group or crowd, according to its size. Some men kneeled down, +made scoops of their two hands joined, and sipped, or tried to help +women, who bent over their shoulders, to sip, before the wine had all +run out between their fingers. Others, men and women, dipped in +the puddles with little mugs of mutilated earthenware, or even with +handkerchiefs from women's heads, which were squeezed dry into infants' +mouths; others made small mud-embankments, to stem the wine as it ran; +others, directed by lookers-on up at high windows, darted here and +there, to cut off little streams of wine that started away in new +directions; others devoted themselves to the sodden and lee-dyed +pieces of the cask, licking, and even champing the moister wine-rotted +fragments with eager relish. There was no drainage to carry off the +wine, and not only did it all get taken up, but so much mud got taken up +along with it, that there might have been a scavenger in the street, +if anybody acquainted with it could have believed in such a miraculous +presence. + +A shrill sound of laughter and of amused voices--voices of men, women, +and children--resounded in the street while this wine game lasted. There +was little roughness in the sport, and much playfulness. There was a +special companionship in it, an observable inclination on the part +of every one to join some other one, which led, especially among the +luckier or lighter-hearted, to frolicsome embraces, drinking of healths, +shaking of hands, and even joining of hands and dancing, a dozen +together. When the wine was gone, and the places where it had been +most abundant were raked into a gridiron-pattern by fingers, these +demonstrations ceased, as suddenly as they had broken out. The man who +had left his saw sticking in the firewood he was cutting, set it in +motion again; the women who had left on a door-step the little pot of +hot ashes, at which she had been trying to soften the pain in her own +starved fingers and toes, or in those of her child, returned to it; men +with bare arms, matted locks, and cadaverous faces, who had emerged into +the winter light from cellars, moved away, to descend again; and a gloom +gathered on the scene that appeared more natural to it than sunshine. + +The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street +in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled. It had +stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and many +wooden shoes. The hands of the man who sawed the wood, left red marks +on the billets; and the forehead of the woman who nursed her baby, was +stained with the stain of the old rag she wound about her head again. +Those who had been greedy with the staves of the cask, had acquired a +tigerish smear about the mouth; and one tall joker so besmirched, his +head more out of a long squalid bag of a nightcap than in it, scrawled +upon a wall with his finger dipped in muddy wine-lees--BLOOD. + +The time was to come, when that wine too would be spilled on the +street-stones, and when the stain of it would be red upon many there. + +And now that the cloud settled on Saint Antoine, which a momentary +gleam had driven from his sacred countenance, the darkness of it was +heavy--cold, dirt, sickness, ignorance, and want, were the lords in +waiting on the saintly presence--nobles of great power all of them; +but, most especially the last. Samples of a people that had undergone a +terrible grinding and regrinding in the mill, and certainly not in the +fabulous mill which ground old people young, shivered at every corner, +passed in and out at every doorway, looked from every window, fluttered +in every vestige of a garment that the wind shook. The mill which +had worked them down, was the mill that grinds young people old; the +children had ancient faces and grave voices; and upon them, and upon the +grown faces, and ploughed into every furrow of age and coming up afresh, +was the sigh, Hunger. It was prevalent everywhere. Hunger was pushed out +of the tall houses, in the wretched clothing that hung upon poles and +lines; Hunger was patched into them with straw and rag and wood and +paper; Hunger was repeated in every fragment of the small modicum of +firewood that the man sawed off; Hunger stared down from the smokeless +chimneys, and started up from the filthy street that had no offal, +among its refuse, of anything to eat. Hunger was the inscription on the +baker's shelves, written in every small loaf of his scanty stock of +bad bread; at the sausage-shop, in every dead-dog preparation that +was offered for sale. Hunger rattled its dry bones among the roasting +chestnuts in the turned cylinder; Hunger was shred into atomics in every +farthing porringer of husky chips of potato, fried with some reluctant +drops of oil. + +Its abiding place was in all things fitted to it. A narrow winding +street, full of offence and stench, with other narrow winding streets +diverging, all peopled by rags and nightcaps, and all smelling of rags +and nightcaps, and all visible things with a brooding look upon them +that looked ill. In the hunted air of the people there was yet some +wild-beast thought of the possibility of turning at bay. Depressed and +slinking though they were, eyes of fire were not wanting among them; nor +compressed lips, white with what they suppressed; nor foreheads knitted +into the likeness of the gallows-rope they mused about enduring, or +inflicting. The trade signs (and they were almost as many as the shops) +were, all, grim illustrations of Want. The butcher and the porkman +painted up, only the leanest scrags of meat; the baker, the coarsest of +meagre loaves. The people rudely pictured as drinking in the wine-shops, +croaked over their scanty measures of thin wine and beer, and were +gloweringly confidential together. Nothing was represented in a +flourishing condition, save tools and weapons; but, the cutler's knives +and axes were sharp and bright, the smith's hammers were heavy, and the +gunmaker's stock was murderous. The crippling stones of the pavement, +with their many little reservoirs of mud and water, had no footways, but +broke off abruptly at the doors. The kennel, to make amends, ran down +the middle of the street--when it ran at all: which was only after heavy +rains, and then it ran, by many eccentric fits, into the houses. Across +the streets, at wide intervals, one clumsy lamp was slung by a rope and +pulley; at night, when the lamplighter had let these down, and lighted, +and hoisted them again, a feeble grove of dim wicks swung in a sickly +manner overhead, as if they were at sea. Indeed they were at sea, and +the ship and crew were in peril of tempest. + +For, the time was to come, when the gaunt scarecrows of that region +should have watched the lamplighter, in their idleness and hunger, so +long, as to conceive the idea of improving on his method, and hauling +up men by those ropes and pulleys, to flare upon the darkness of their +condition. But, the time was not come yet; and every wind that blew over +France shook the rags of the scarecrows in vain, for the birds, fine of +song and feather, took no warning. + +The wine-shop was a corner shop, better than most others in its +appearance and degree, and the master of the wine-shop had stood outside +it, in a yellow waistcoat and green breeches, looking on at the struggle +for the lost wine. "It's not my affair," said he, with a final shrug +of the shoulders. "The people from the market did it. Let them bring +another." + +There, his eyes happening to catch the tall joker writing up his joke, +he called to him across the way: + +"Say, then, my Gaspard, what do you do there?" + +The fellow pointed to his joke with immense significance, as is often +the way with his tribe. It missed its mark, and completely failed, as is +often the way with his tribe too. + +"What now? Are you a subject for the mad hospital?" said the wine-shop +keeper, crossing the road, and obliterating the jest with a handful of +mud, picked up for the purpose, and smeared over it. "Why do you write +in the public streets? Is there--tell me thou--is there no other place +to write such words in?" + +In his expostulation he dropped his cleaner hand (perhaps accidentally, +perhaps not) upon the joker's heart. The joker rapped it with his +own, took a nimble spring upward, and came down in a fantastic dancing +attitude, with one of his stained shoes jerked off his foot into his +hand, and held out. A joker of an extremely, not to say wolfishly +practical character, he looked, under those circumstances. + +"Put it on, put it on," said the other. "Call wine, wine; and finish +there." With that advice, he wiped his soiled hand upon the joker's +dress, such as it was--quite deliberately, as having dirtied the hand on +his account; and then recrossed the road and entered the wine-shop. + +This wine-shop keeper was a bull-necked, martial-looking man of thirty, +and he should have been of a hot temperament, for, although it was a +bitter day, he wore no coat, but carried one slung over his shoulder. +His shirt-sleeves were rolled up, too, and his brown arms were bare to +the elbows. Neither did he wear anything more on his head than his own +crisply-curling short dark hair. He was a dark man altogether, with good +eyes and a good bold breadth between them. Good-humoured looking on +the whole, but implacable-looking, too; evidently a man of a strong +resolution and a set purpose; a man not desirable to be met, rushing +down a narrow pass with a gulf on either side, for nothing would turn +the man. + +Madame Defarge, his wife, sat in the shop behind the counter as he +came in. Madame Defarge was a stout woman of about his own age, with +a watchful eye that seldom seemed to look at anything, a large hand +heavily ringed, a steady face, strong features, and great composure of +manner. There was a character about Madame Defarge, from which one might +have predicated that she did not often make mistakes against herself +in any of the reckonings over which she presided. Madame Defarge being +sensitive to cold, was wrapped in fur, and had a quantity of bright +shawl twined about her head, though not to the concealment of her large +earrings. Her knitting was before her, but she had laid it down to pick +her teeth with a toothpick. Thus engaged, with her right elbow supported +by her left hand, Madame Defarge said nothing when her lord came in, but +coughed just one grain of cough. This, in combination with the lifting +of her darkly defined eyebrows over her toothpick by the breadth of a +line, suggested to her husband that he would do well to look round the +shop among the customers, for any new customer who had dropped in while +he stepped over the way. + +The wine-shop keeper accordingly rolled his eyes about, until they +rested upon an elderly gentleman and a young lady, who were seated in +a corner. Other company were there: two playing cards, two playing +dominoes, three standing by the counter lengthening out a short supply +of wine. As he passed behind the counter, he took notice that the +elderly gentleman said in a look to the young lady, "This is our man." + +"What the devil do _you_ do in that galley there?" said Monsieur Defarge +to himself; "I don't know you." + +But, he feigned not to notice the two strangers, and fell into discourse +with the triumvirate of customers who were drinking at the counter. + +"How goes it, Jacques?" said one of these three to Monsieur Defarge. "Is +all the spilt wine swallowed?" + +"Every drop, Jacques," answered Monsieur Defarge. + +When this interchange of Christian name was effected, Madame Defarge, +picking her teeth with her toothpick, coughed another grain of cough, +and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line. + +"It is not often," said the second of the three, addressing Monsieur +Defarge, "that many of these miserable beasts know the taste of wine, or +of anything but black bread and death. Is it not so, Jacques?" + +"It is so, Jacques," Monsieur Defarge returned. + +At this second interchange of the Christian name, Madame Defarge, still +using her toothpick with profound composure, coughed another grain of +cough, and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line. + +The last of the three now said his say, as he put down his empty +drinking vessel and smacked his lips. + +"Ah! So much the worse! A bitter taste it is that such poor cattle +always have in their mouths, and hard lives they live, Jacques. Am I +right, Jacques?" + +"You are right, Jacques," was the response of Monsieur Defarge. + +This third interchange of the Christian name was completed at the moment +when Madame Defarge put her toothpick by, kept her eyebrows up, and +slightly rustled in her seat. + +"Hold then! True!" muttered her husband. "Gentlemen--my wife!" + +The three customers pulled off their hats to Madame Defarge, with three +flourishes. She acknowledged their homage by bending her head, and +giving them a quick look. Then she glanced in a casual manner round the +wine-shop, took up her knitting with great apparent calmness and repose +of spirit, and became absorbed in it. + +"Gentlemen," said her husband, who had kept his bright eye observantly +upon her, "good day. The chamber, furnished bachelor-fashion, that you +wished to see, and were inquiring for when I stepped out, is on the +fifth floor. The doorway of the staircase gives on the little courtyard +close to the left here," pointing with his hand, "near to the window of +my establishment. But, now that I remember, one of you has already been +there, and can show the way. Gentlemen, adieu!" + +They paid for their wine, and left the place. The eyes of Monsieur +Defarge were studying his wife at her knitting when the elderly +gentleman advanced from his corner, and begged the favour of a word. + +"Willingly, sir," said Monsieur Defarge, and quietly stepped with him to +the door. + +Their conference was very short, but very decided. Almost at the first +word, Monsieur Defarge started and became deeply attentive. It had +not lasted a minute, when he nodded and went out. The gentleman then +beckoned to the young lady, and they, too, went out. Madame Defarge +knitted with nimble fingers and steady eyebrows, and saw nothing. + +Mr. Jarvis Lorry and Miss Manette, emerging from the wine-shop thus, +joined Monsieur Defarge in the doorway to which he had directed his own +company just before. It opened from a stinking little black courtyard, +and was the general public entrance to a great pile of houses, inhabited +by a great number of people. In the gloomy tile-paved entry to the +gloomy tile-paved staircase, Monsieur Defarge bent down on one knee +to the child of his old master, and put her hand to his lips. It was +a gentle action, but not at all gently done; a very remarkable +transformation had come over him in a few seconds. He had no good-humour +in his face, nor any openness of aspect left, but had become a secret, +angry, dangerous man. + +"It is very high; it is a little difficult. Better to begin slowly." +Thus, Monsieur Defarge, in a stern voice, to Mr. Lorry, as they began +ascending the stairs. + +"Is he alone?" the latter whispered. + +"Alone! God help him, who should be with him!" said the other, in the +same low voice. + +"Is he always alone, then?" + +"Yes." + +"Of his own desire?" + +"Of his own necessity. As he was, when I first saw him after they +found me and demanded to know if I would take him, and, at my peril be +discreet--as he was then, so he is now." + +"He is greatly changed?" + +"Changed!" + +The keeper of the wine-shop stopped to strike the wall with his hand, +and mutter a tremendous curse. No direct answer could have been half so +forcible. Mr. Lorry's spirits grew heavier and heavier, as he and his +two companions ascended higher and higher. + +Such a staircase, with its accessories, in the older and more crowded +parts of Paris, would be bad enough now; but, at that time, it was vile +indeed to unaccustomed and unhardened senses. Every little habitation +within the great foul nest of one high building--that is to say, +the room or rooms within every door that opened on the general +staircase--left its own heap of refuse on its own landing, besides +flinging other refuse from its own windows. The uncontrollable and +hopeless mass of decomposition so engendered, would have polluted +the air, even if poverty and deprivation had not loaded it with their +intangible impurities; the two bad sources combined made it almost +insupportable. Through such an atmosphere, by a steep dark shaft of dirt +and poison, the way lay. Yielding to his own disturbance of mind, and to +his young companion's agitation, which became greater every instant, Mr. +Jarvis Lorry twice stopped to rest. Each of these stoppages was made +at a doleful grating, by which any languishing good airs that were left +uncorrupted, seemed to escape, and all spoilt and sickly vapours seemed +to crawl in. Through the rusted bars, tastes, rather than glimpses, were +caught of the jumbled neighbourhood; and nothing within range, nearer +or lower than the summits of the two great towers of Notre-Dame, had any +promise on it of healthy life or wholesome aspirations. + +At last, the top of the staircase was gained, and they stopped for the +third time. There was yet an upper staircase, of a steeper inclination +and of contracted dimensions, to be ascended, before the garret story +was reached. The keeper of the wine-shop, always going a little in +advance, and always going on the side which Mr. Lorry took, as though he +dreaded to be asked any question by the young lady, turned himself about +here, and, carefully feeling in the pockets of the coat he carried over +his shoulder, took out a key. + +"The door is locked then, my friend?" said Mr. Lorry, surprised. + +"Ay. Yes," was the grim reply of Monsieur Defarge. + +"You think it necessary to keep the unfortunate gentleman so retired?" + +"I think it necessary to turn the key." Monsieur Defarge whispered it +closer in his ear, and frowned heavily. + +"Why?" + +"Why! Because he has lived so long, locked up, that he would be +frightened--rave--tear himself to pieces--die--come to I know not what +harm--if his door was left open." + +"Is it possible!" exclaimed Mr. Lorry. + +"Is it possible!" repeated Defarge, bitterly. "Yes. And a beautiful +world we live in, when it _is_ possible, and when many other such things +are possible, and not only possible, but done--done, see you!--under +that sky there, every day. Long live the Devil. Let us go on." + +This dialogue had been held in so very low a whisper, that not a word +of it had reached the young lady's ears. But, by this time she trembled +under such strong emotion, and her face expressed such deep anxiety, +and, above all, such dread and terror, that Mr. Lorry felt it incumbent +on him to speak a word or two of reassurance. + +"Courage, dear miss! Courage! Business! The worst will be over in a +moment; it is but passing the room-door, and the worst is over. Then, +all the good you bring to him, all the relief, all the happiness you +bring to him, begin. Let our good friend here, assist you on that side. +That's well, friend Defarge. Come, now. Business, business!" + +They went up slowly and softly. The staircase was short, and they were +soon at the top. There, as it had an abrupt turn in it, they came all at +once in sight of three men, whose heads were bent down close together at +the side of a door, and who were intently looking into the room to which +the door belonged, through some chinks or holes in the wall. On hearing +footsteps close at hand, these three turned, and rose, and showed +themselves to be the three of one name who had been drinking in the +wine-shop. + +"I forgot them in the surprise of your visit," explained Monsieur +Defarge. "Leave us, good boys; we have business here." + +The three glided by, and went silently down. + +There appearing to be no other door on that floor, and the keeper of +the wine-shop going straight to this one when they were left alone, Mr. +Lorry asked him in a whisper, with a little anger: + +"Do you make a show of Monsieur Manette?" + +"I show him, in the way you have seen, to a chosen few." + +"Is that well?" + +"_I_ think it is well." + +"Who are the few? How do you choose them?" + +"I choose them as real men, of my name--Jacques is my name--to whom the +sight is likely to do good. Enough; you are English; that is another +thing. Stay there, if you please, a little moment." + +With an admonitory gesture to keep them back, he stooped, and looked in +through the crevice in the wall. Soon raising his head again, he struck +twice or thrice upon the door--evidently with no other object than to +make a noise there. With the same intention, he drew the key across it, +three or four times, before he put it clumsily into the lock, and turned +it as heavily as he could. + +The door slowly opened inward under his hand, and he looked into the +room and said something. A faint voice answered something. Little more +than a single syllable could have been spoken on either side. + +He looked back over his shoulder, and beckoned them to enter. Mr. Lorry +got his arm securely round the daughter's waist, and held her; for he +felt that she was sinking. + +"A-a-a-business, business!" he urged, with a moisture that was not of +business shining on his cheek. "Come in, come in!" + +"I am afraid of it," she answered, shuddering. + +"Of it? What?" + +"I mean of him. Of my father." + +Rendered in a manner desperate, by her state and by the beckoning of +their conductor, he drew over his neck the arm that shook upon his +shoulder, lifted her a little, and hurried her into the room. He sat her +down just within the door, and held her, clinging to him. + +Defarge drew out the key, closed the door, locked it on the inside, +took out the key again, and held it in his hand. All this he did, +methodically, and with as loud and harsh an accompaniment of noise as he +could make. Finally, he walked across the room with a measured tread to +where the window was. He stopped there, and faced round. + +The garret, built to be a depository for firewood and the like, was dim +and dark: for, the window of dormer shape, was in truth a door in the +roof, with a little crane over it for the hoisting up of stores from +the street: unglazed, and closing up the middle in two pieces, like any +other door of French construction. To exclude the cold, one half of this +door was fast closed, and the other was opened but a very little way. +Such a scanty portion of light was admitted through these means, that it +was difficult, on first coming in, to see anything; and long habit +alone could have slowly formed in any one, the ability to do any work +requiring nicety in such obscurity. Yet, work of that kind was being +done in the garret; for, with his back towards the door, and his face +towards the window where the keeper of the wine-shop stood looking at +him, a white-haired man sat on a low bench, stooping forward and very +busy, making shoes. + + + + +VI. The Shoemaker + + +"Good day!" said Monsieur Defarge, looking down at the white head that +bent low over the shoemaking. + +It was raised for a moment, and a very faint voice responded to the +salutation, as if it were at a distance: + +"Good day!" + +"You are still hard at work, I see?" + +After a long silence, the head was lifted for another moment, and the +voice replied, "Yes--I am working." This time, a pair of haggard eyes +had looked at the questioner, before the face had dropped again. + +The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful. It was not the +faintness of physical weakness, though confinement and hard fare no +doubt had their part in it. Its deplorable peculiarity was, that it was +the faintness of solitude and disuse. It was like the last feeble echo +of a sound made long and long ago. So entirely had it lost the life and +resonance of the human voice, that it affected the senses like a once +beautiful colour faded away into a poor weak stain. So sunken and +suppressed it was, that it was like a voice underground. So expressive +it was, of a hopeless and lost creature, that a famished traveller, +wearied out by lonely wandering in a wilderness, would have remembered +home and friends in such a tone before lying down to die. + +Some minutes of silent work had passed: and the haggard eyes had looked +up again: not with any interest or curiosity, but with a dull mechanical +perception, beforehand, that the spot where the only visitor they were +aware of had stood, was not yet empty. + +"I want," said Defarge, who had not removed his gaze from the shoemaker, +"to let in a little more light here. You can bear a little more?" + +The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening, +at the floor on one side of him; then similarly, at the floor on the +other side of him; then, upward at the speaker. + +"What did you say?" + +"You can bear a little more light?" + +"I must bear it, if you let it in." (Laying the palest shadow of a +stress upon the second word.) + +The opened half-door was opened a little further, and secured at that +angle for the time. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, and +showed the workman with an unfinished shoe upon his lap, pausing in his +labour. His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at his +feet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly cut, but not very +long, a hollow face, and exceedingly bright eyes. The hollowness and +thinness of his face would have caused them to look large, under his yet +dark eyebrows and his confused white hair, though they had been really +otherwise; but, they were naturally large, and looked unnaturally so. +His yellow rags of shirt lay open at the throat, and showed his body +to be withered and worn. He, and his old canvas frock, and his loose +stockings, and all his poor tatters of clothes, had, in a long seclusion +from direct light and air, faded down to such a dull uniformity of +parchment-yellow, that it would have been hard to say which was which. + +He had put up a hand between his eyes and the light, and the very bones +of it seemed transparent. So he sat, with a steadfastly vacant gaze, +pausing in his work. He never looked at the figure before him, without +first looking down on this side of himself, then on that, as if he had +lost the habit of associating place with sound; he never spoke, without +first wandering in this manner, and forgetting to speak. + +"Are you going to finish that pair of shoes to-day?" asked Defarge, +motioning to Mr. Lorry to come forward. + +"What did you say?" + +"Do you mean to finish that pair of shoes to-day?" + +"I can't say that I mean to. I suppose so. I don't know." + +But, the question reminded him of his work, and he bent over it again. + +Mr. Lorry came silently forward, leaving the daughter by the door. When +he had stood, for a minute or two, by the side of Defarge, the shoemaker +looked up. He showed no surprise at seeing another figure, but the +unsteady fingers of one of his hands strayed to his lips as he looked at +it (his lips and his nails were of the same pale lead-colour), and then +the hand dropped to his work, and he once more bent over the shoe. The +look and the action had occupied but an instant. + +"You have a visitor, you see," said Monsieur Defarge. + +"What did you say?" + +"Here is a visitor." + +The shoemaker looked up as before, but without removing a hand from his +work. + +"Come!" said Defarge. "Here is monsieur, who knows a well-made shoe when +he sees one. Show him that shoe you are working at. Take it, monsieur." + +Mr. Lorry took it in his hand. + +"Tell monsieur what kind of shoe it is, and the maker's name." + +There was a longer pause than usual, before the shoemaker replied: + +"I forget what it was you asked me. What did you say?" + +"I said, couldn't you describe the kind of shoe, for monsieur's +information?" + +"It is a lady's shoe. It is a young lady's walking-shoe. It is in the +present mode. I never saw the mode. I have had a pattern in my hand." He +glanced at the shoe with some little passing touch of pride. + +"And the maker's name?" said Defarge. + +Now that he had no work to hold, he laid the knuckles of the right hand +in the hollow of the left, and then the knuckles of the left hand in the +hollow of the right, and then passed a hand across his bearded chin, and +so on in regular changes, without a moment's intermission. The task of +recalling him from the vagrancy into which he always sank when he +had spoken, was like recalling some very weak person from a swoon, or +endeavouring, in the hope of some disclosure, to stay the spirit of a +fast-dying man. + +"Did you ask me for my name?" + +"Assuredly I did." + +"One Hundred and Five, North Tower." + +"Is that all?" + +"One Hundred and Five, North Tower." + +With a weary sound that was not a sigh, nor a groan, he bent to work +again, until the silence was again broken. + +"You are not a shoemaker by trade?" said Mr. Lorry, looking steadfastly +at him. + +His haggard eyes turned to Defarge as if he would have transferred the +question to him: but as no help came from that quarter, they turned back +on the questioner when they had sought the ground. + +"I am not a shoemaker by trade? No, I was not a shoemaker by trade. I-I +learnt it here. I taught myself. I asked leave to--" + +He lapsed away, even for minutes, ringing those measured changes on his +hands the whole time. His eyes came slowly back, at last, to the face +from which they had wandered; when they rested on it, he started, and +resumed, in the manner of a sleeper that moment awake, reverting to a +subject of last night. + +"I asked leave to teach myself, and I got it with much difficulty after +a long while, and I have made shoes ever since." + +As he held out his hand for the shoe that had been taken from him, Mr. +Lorry said, still looking steadfastly in his face: + +"Monsieur Manette, do you remember nothing of me?" + +The shoe dropped to the ground, and he sat looking fixedly at the +questioner. + +"Monsieur Manette"; Mr. Lorry laid his hand upon Defarge's arm; "do you +remember nothing of this man? Look at him. Look at me. Is there no old +banker, no old business, no old servant, no old time, rising in your +mind, Monsieur Manette?" + +As the captive of many years sat looking fixedly, by turns, at Mr. +Lorry and at Defarge, some long obliterated marks of an actively intent +intelligence in the middle of the forehead, gradually forced themselves +through the black mist that had fallen on him. They were overclouded +again, they were fainter, they were gone; but they had been there. And +so exactly was the expression repeated on the fair young face of her who +had crept along the wall to a point where she could see him, and where +she now stood looking at him, with hands which at first had been only +raised in frightened compassion, if not even to keep him off and +shut out the sight of him, but which were now extending towards him, +trembling with eagerness to lay the spectral face upon her warm young +breast, and love it back to life and hope--so exactly was the expression +repeated (though in stronger characters) on her fair young face, that it +looked as though it had passed like a moving light, from him to her. + +Darkness had fallen on him in its place. He looked at the two, less and +less attentively, and his eyes in gloomy abstraction sought the ground +and looked about him in the old way. Finally, with a deep long sigh, he +took the shoe up, and resumed his work. + +"Have you recognised him, monsieur?" asked Defarge in a whisper. + +"Yes; for a moment. At first I thought it quite hopeless, but I have +unquestionably seen, for a single moment, the face that I once knew so +well. Hush! Let us draw further back. Hush!" + +She had moved from the wall of the garret, very near to the bench on +which he sat. There was something awful in his unconsciousness of the +figure that could have put out its hand and touched him as he stooped +over his labour. + +Not a word was spoken, not a sound was made. She stood, like a spirit, +beside him, and he bent over his work. + +It happened, at length, that he had occasion to change the instrument +in his hand, for his shoemaker's knife. It lay on that side of him +which was not the side on which she stood. He had taken it up, and was +stooping to wor <TRUNCATED>
