Repository: apex-malhar Updated Branches: refs/heads/release-3.5 833cbc251 -> e80cfe199
http://git-wip-us.apache.org/repos/asf/apex-malhar/blob/e80cfe19/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt ---------------------------------------------------------------------- diff --git a/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt b/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt index 6081b30..4331205 100644 --- a/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt +++ b/library/src/test/resources/wordcount.txt @@ -1,16271 +1,132 @@ -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 <TRUNCATED>
