书虫——双城记

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　双城记 1

　The road to Paris—1775

　It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the season of light, it was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of sadness. It was the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy－five.

　 In France there was a King and a Queen, and in England there was a King and a Queen. They believed that nothing would ever change. But in France things were bad, and getting worse. The people were poor, hungry and unhappy. The King made paper money and spent it, and the people had nothing to eat. Behind closed doors in the homes of the people, voices spoke in whispers against the King and his noblemen；they were only whispers, but they were the angry whispers of desperate people.

　Late one November night, in that same year 1775, a coach going from London to Dover, stopped at the top of a long hill. The horses were tired, but as they rested, the driver heard an other horse coming fast up the hill behind them. The rider stopped his horse beside the coach and shouted：

　 "I want a passenger, Mr Jarvis Lorry, from Tellson"s Bank in London."

　 "I am Mr Jarvis Lorry, " said one of the passengers,

　putting his head out of the window."What do you want?"

　"It"s me！Jerry, Jerry Cruncher, from Tellson"s Bank, sir, " cried the man on the horse.

　 "What"s the matter, Jerry?" called Mr Lorry.

　 A message for you, Mr Lorry. You"ve got to wait at Dover for a young lady."

　"Very well, Jerry, " said Mr Lorry."Tell them my answer is CAME BACK TO LIFE".

　 It was a strange message, and a stranger answer. No one in the coach understood what they meant.

　 The next day Mr Lorry was sitting in his hotel in Dover when a young lady arrived. She was pretty, with golden hair and blue eyes, and Mr Lorry remembered a small child, almost a baby. He had carried her in his arms when he came from Calais to Dover, from France to England, many years ago. Mr Lorry asked the young lady to sit down.

　 "Miss Manette, " he said."I have a strange story to tell you, about one of the

　customers of Tellson"s Bank. That"s where I work."

　 "Yes, but I don"t quite understand, Mr Lorry, " said the young lady."I received a message from Tellson"s Bank, asking me to come here to meet you. I understood there was some news about my poor father"s money. He died so long ago—before I was born. What is this story you want to tell me?"

　 "About twenty years ago, Miss Manette, a French doctor married an English lady. They had a daughter, but just before she was born, her father disappeared. Nobody knew what had happened to him. Not long afterwards his unhappy wife died, and their daughter was brought back to England."

　 "But this is like my father"s story, Mr Lorry. And wasn"t it you who brought me back to England?"

　 "Yes, that"s true, Miss Manette. Many years ago I brought you from France to England, and Tellson"s Bank has taken care of you since then. You were told that your father had died. But think, Miss Manette. Perhaps your father wasn"t dead. Perhaps he was in prison. Not because he had done something wrong！

　But just because he had a powerful enemy—an enemy with the power to send him to prison and to keep him there, hidden and forgotten, for eighteen years！"

　 "Can it be true? Is it possible that my father is still alive?" Lucie Manette stared at Mr Lorry. Her face was white and her hands trembled."It will be his ghost—not him！"

　 "No, Miss Manette, " said Mr Lorry gently."He is alive, but he has changed very much. Even his name had been forgotten！And we must ask no questions about the past, no questions at all. It would be too dangerous. He has been taken to the house of an old servant in Paris, and we are going there to bring him back to life."

　 2 A wine－shop in Paris

　In the part of Paris called Saint Antoine everyone was poor. The streets were narrow and dirty, the food－shops were almost empty. The faces of the children looked old already, because they were so hungry. In the wine－shop of Monsieur Defarge there were not many customers and Defarge was outside, talking to a man in the street.

　His wife, Madame Defarge, sat inside the shop, knitting and watching. Defarge came in and his wife looked at him, then turned her eyes to look at two new customers, a man of about sixty and a young lady. Defarge went over to speak to them, suddenly kissed the young lady"s hand, and led them out of the back of the shop. They followed him upstairs, many stairs, until they reached the top. Defarge took a key out of his pocket.

　 "Why is the door locked?" asked Mr Lorry in surprise."He is a free man now."

　 "Because he has lived too long behind a locked door, " replied Defarge angrily."He is afraid if the door is not locked！That is one of the things they have done to him."

　 "I"m afraid, too, " whispered Miss Manette. Her blue eyes looked worriedly at Mr Lorry."I am afraid of him—of my father."

　Defarge made a lot of noise as he opened the door. Mr Lorry and Lucie went into the room behind him. A thin, white－haired man was sitting on a wooden seat. He was very busy, making shoes.

　 "Good day, " said Defarge."You are still working hard, I see."

　 After a while they heard a whisper."Yes, I am still working."

　 "Come, " said Defarge."You have a visitor. Tell him your name."

　 "My name?" came the whisper."One Hundred and Five, North Tower."

　Mr Lorry moved closer to the old man."Dr Manette, don"t you remember me, Jarvis Lorry?" he asked gently.

　 The old prisoner looked up at Mr Lorry, but there was no surprise, no understanding in his tired face, and he went back to work making shoes.

　 Slowly Lucie came near to the old man. After a while he noticed her.

　 "Who are you?" he asked.

　 Lucie put her arms around the old man and held him,

　tears of happiness and sadness running down her face. From a little bag the old man took some golden hair. He looked at it, and then he looked at Lucie"s hair."It is the same. How can it be?" He stared into Lucie"s face."No, no, you are too young, too young."

　Through her tears Lucie tried to explain that she was the daughter he had never seen.

　The old man still did not understand, but he seemed to like the sound of Lucie"s voice and the touch of her warm young hand on his.

　 Then Lucie said to Mr Lorry, "I think we should leave Paris at once. Can you arrange it?"

　"Yes, of course, " said Mr Lorry."But do you think he is able to travel?"

　 "He will be better far away from this city where he has lost so much of his life, " said Lucie.

　 "You are right, " said Defarge."And there are many other reasons why Dr Manette should leave France now."

　 While Mr Lorry and Defarge went to arrange for a coach to take them out of Paris, Lucie sat with her father. Exhausted by the meeting, he fell asleep on the floor, and his daughter watched him quietly and patiently until it was time to go.

　 When Mr Lorry returned, he and Defarge brought food and clothes for Dr Manette. The Doctor did everything they told him to do；he had been used to obeying orders for so many years. As he came down the stairs, Mr Lorry heard him say again and again, "One Hundred and Five, North Tower."

　 When they went to the coach, only one person saw them go：Madame Defarge. She stood in the doorway, and knitted and watched, seeing everything… and seeing nothing.

　 3 A trial in London—1780

　 Tellson"s Bank in the City of London was an old, dark, and ugly building. It smelt of dust and old papers, and the people who worked there all seemed old and dusty,

　too. Outside the building sat Jerry Cruncher, who carried messages for people in the bank.

　 One morning in March 1780, Jerry had to go to the Old Bailey to collect an important message from Mr Lorry. Trials at the Old Bailey were usually for very dangerous

　criminals, and the prisoner that morning was a young man of about twenty—five, well dressed and quite calm.

　 "What"s he done?" Jerry asked the doorman quietly.

　 "He"s a spy！A French spy！"the doorman told him." He travels from England to France and tells the French King secret information about our English army."

　 "What"ll happen if he"s guilty?" asked Jerry.

　 "oh, he"ll have to die, no question of that, " replied the doorman enthusiastically."They"ll hang him."

　 "What"s his name?"

　"Darnay, Charles Darnay. Not an English name, is it?"

　 While Jerry waited, he looked around at the crowd inside the Old Bailey and noticed a young lady of about twenty years, and her father, a gentleman with very white hair. The young lady seemed very sad when she looked at the prisoner,

　and held herself close to her father.

　 Then the trial began,

　and the first person who spoke against Charles Darnay was called John Barsad.

　 He was an honest man, he said, and proud to be an Englishman. Yes, he was, or had been, a friend of the prisoner"s. And in the prisoner"s pockets he had seen important plans and lists about the English armies. No, of course he had not put the lists there himself. And no, he was not a spy himself, he was not someone paid to make traps for innocent people.

　 Next the young lady spoke. She said that she had met the prisoner on the boat which had carried her and her father from France to England."He was very good and kind to my father and to me, "she said.

　"Was he travelling alone on the ship?"

　 "No, he was with two French gentlemen."

　"Now, Miss Manette, did you see him show them any papers,

　or anything that looked like a list?"

　 "No, I didn"t see anything like that."

　Questions, questions, questions！The trial went on, and finally, a small, red－haired man spoke. He told the judge that he had seen Mr Darnay at a hotel in a town where there were many soldiers and ships. Then one of the lawyers, a man called Sydney Carton, wrote some words on a piece of paper, and gave it to Mr Stryver, the lawyer who was speaking for Mr Darnay.

　 "Are you quite sure that the prisoner is the man you saw?" Mr Stryver asked the red－haired man.

　"Quite sure, " said the man.

　 Have you ever seen anyone like the prisoner?" asked Mr Stryver.

　 "I"d always be able to recognize him." The red－haired man was very confident.

　 "Then I must ask you to look at the gentleman over there, " said Mr Stryver, pointing to Sydney Carton."Don"t you think that he is very like the prisoner?"

　Everyone in the court could see that Sydney Carton and Charles Darnay were indeed very similar.

　 "Well then, " said Mr Stryver, "it is so easy to find a man like the prisoner that we can even find one in this room. So how can you be so sure that it was the prisoner you saw in that hotel?"

　 And the red－haired man said not another word.

　 The lawyers talked and argued, and when at last the trial came to an end, Jerry Cruncher had fallen asleep.

　 But Mr Lorry woke him up and gave him a piece of paper. "NOT GUILTY" were the words written on it, and Jerry hurried back to Tellson"s Bank with the message.

　 Sydney Carton seemed to be a man who did not care about anyone or anything. He was Mr Stryver"s assistant. In fact, he did most of the real work for Mr Stryver. Stryver was good at speaking at a trial,

　but he was not good at discovering important facts and details, especially when these details were hidden in a lot of papers. Every night Carton studied the many papers that lawyers have to read,

　and he wrote down the questions which Stryver should ask at the next day"s trial. And every day Stryver asked these questions, and people thought how clever he was.

　Outside the Old Bailey Mr Darnay, now a free man, met his friends：

　Dr Manette and his daughter Lucie, Mr Jarvis Lorry, Mr Stryver, and Mr Carton.

　Dr Manette no longer looked like the man in the room above Defarge"s wine－shop five years ago. His hair was white,

　but his eyes were bright and he stood straight and strong. Sometimes his face became dark and sad when he remembered the years in the Bastille prison；at these times only his daughter Lucie, whom he loved so much, could help him.

　 As they stood there talking, a strange expression came over Dr Manette"s face. He was staring at Charles Darnay, but he did not seem to see him. For a few moments there was dislike, even fear in his eyes."My father, " said Lucie softly, putting her hand on his arm, "shall we go home now?"

　"Yes, " he answered slowly.

　 Soon they drove off in a coach, and then Mr Stryver and Mr Lorry walked away, leaving Mr Darnay and Mr Carton alone.

　 "It must be strange for you, " said Carton, "to be a free man again, and to be standing here, talking to a man who looks just like you. Let us go out and eat together."

　 After they had eaten, Carton said softly, "How sad and worried Miss Manette was for you today！

　She"s a very beautiful young woman, don"t you think?"

　 Darnay did not reply to what Carton had said, but he thanked him for his help at the trial.

　 "I don"t want your thanks, " replied Carton."I have done nothing. And I don"t think I like you."

　"Well, " said Darnay, "you have no reason to like me. But I hope that you will allow me to pay the bill for both of us."

　 "Of course. And as you are paying for me, I"ll have another bottle of wine."

　After Darnay had left, Carton drank some more wine and looked at himself in the mirror. He was angry because Darnay looked so much like him, but was so different. Carton knew that he was a clever lawyer, and that he was a good and honest man, but he had never been successful for himself. He drank too much, and his life was unhappy and friendless. His cleverness and his hard work in the law only made others, like Mr Stryver, successful and rich. He remembered Lucie Manette"s worried face when she watched Darnay in court.

　 "If I changed places with Darnay, " he whispered to himself, "would those blue eyes of Miss Manette look at me, in the same way? No, no, it"s too late now."

　He drank another bottle of wine and fell asleep.

　 In a quiet street not far away was the house where Dr Manette and Lucie lived. They had one servant, Miss Pross, who had taken care of Lucie since she was a child. Miss Pross had red hair and a quick, sharp voice, and seemed at first sight a very alarming person. But everybody knew that she was in fact a warm－hearted and unselfish friend, who would do anything to guard her darling Lucie from trouble or danger.

　 Dr Manette was now well enough to work as a doctor, and he, Lucie, and Miss Pross led a quiet, comfortable life. Mr Lorry, who had become a close family friend, came regularly to the house, and in the months after the trial, Mr Darnay and Mr Carton were also frequent visitors. This did not please Miss Pross at all, who always looked very cross when they came.

　 "Nobody is good enough for my darling Lucie, " she told Mr Lorry one day, "and I don"t like all these hundreds of visitors."

　 Mr Lorry had a very high opinion of Miss Pross, but he wasn"t brave enough to argue that two visitors were not"hundreds". Nobody argued with Miss Pross if they could avoid it.

　 4

　The Marquis of Evremonde

　The Marquis of Evremonde was a disappointed man. He had waited for hours at the palace of the King of France, but the King had not spoken to him. Angrily, the Marquis got into his coach and told the driver to take him home. Very soon the coach was driving fast out of Paris, and the people in the narrow streets had to run to get out of the way—if they could. At the corner of a street in Saint Antoine, one of the coach wheels hit something,

　and the people in the street screamed loudly. The horses were frightened and stopped.

　 "What has gone wrong?" asked the Marquis calmly, looking out of the window of the coach. A tall man had picked something up from under the feet of the horses and was crying loudly over it.

　"Why is that man making that terrible noise?" asked the Marquis impatiently.

　 "I"m sorry, Monsieur the Marquis. It is his child, " said one of the people.

　 "Dead！Killea！"screamed the man.

　 The people in the street came close to the coach and looked to the coach and looked at the Marquis with stony, silent faces. The Marquis looked back at them in bored dislike. To him, they were no more than animals.

　 "I can"t understand, " he said coldly, "why you people cannot take care of yourselves and your children. I hope my horses are not hurt." And he threw a gold coin to his driver."Give this to that man！"

　 "Dead！"shouted the father of the child again.

　 Another man came forward."Be brave, Gaspard. Your child has died quickly, and without pain. It is better to die like that than to go on living in these terrible times."

　"You are a sensible man, " said the Marquis from his coach.

　"What is your name?"

　"They call me Defarge."

　"This is for you, " said the Marquis, and he threw Defarge another gold coin."Drive on, " he called to his driver.

　 Just as the coach was leaving, a coin was thrown back in through the window. The Marquis looked angrily at the corner where Defarge had been standing. Defarge had gone. At the corner there now stood a large, dark－haired woman, knitting. She stared long and hard at the face of the Marquis, but he did not look at her, and drove on.

　 Later that day, as the sun was going down, the same coach stopped in a village near the Marquis"s castle. Several villagers, in poor thin clothes, with thin hungry faces, were standing in the village square. The Marquis looked at their faces and then pointed to one of them.

　 "Bring that man to me, " he said to his driver.

　The man came up to the coach, hat in hand, and the other villagers moved closer to listen.

　 "I passed you on the road just outside the village, " said the Marquis."You were

　looking at my coach in a very strange way. Why was that?"

　 "Monsieur, I was looking at the man, " came the reply.

　 "What man?" asked the Marquis angrily.

　 "The man who was holding on under your coach, " said the poor man, trembling with fear.

　 "What was he like?"

　 "Oh, Monsieur, he was white from head to foot. All covered with dust. Just like a ghost."

　 "Where is he now? What happened to him?"

　 "Oh, he ran away down the hill outside the village."

　 The Marquis turned to speak to another man. This was Monsieur Gabelle, the Marquis"s official in the village.

　 "Gabelle, " the Marquis said, "watch out for this man. If he comes here, put him in prison."

　 When the Marquis arrived at his castle, he asked if his nephew, Monsieur Charles, had arrived from England.

　 "Not yet, sir, " replied the servant, but as the Marquis was eating his dinner, he heard the sound of a coach outside. Soon his nephew entered the room. In England he was known as Charles Darnay.

　 "You"ve been away for a long time, " said the Marquis, with his cold, polite smile.

　"I"ve had many problems in England. Perhaps because of you, " Darnay said to his uncle."I was in great danger."

　"No, no, I had nothing to do with your problems, " replied the Marquis coldly."Unfortunately, our family no longer has the power that it once had."

　 "If it still had that power, one word from you would doubtless send me to prison, " said Darnay.

　"Possibly. For the good of our family."

　 "The name of our family is hated everywhere in France. We are hard, cruel landowners. Our miserable people own nothing. They work for us night and day, but they don"t even have enough food for themselves and their children. If this land became mine, I would give it away, and go and live somewhere else."

　 "You seem to be very fond of England, although you are not a rich man there, " said the Marquis."I believe you know another Frenchman who has found a safe home there. A Doctor, I believe?"

　"Yes."

　"With a daughter?"

　 "Yes."

　"Yes, " said the Marquis with a secret smile on his face. "So, a new way of life begins. But you are tired. Goodnight, Charles sleep well. I shall see you in the morning."

　 After his nephew had gone to bed, the Marquis went to his room. The castle was surrounded with darkness. In the villages nearby the hungry people dreamt of a better life, with enough good food to eat, and time to rest from their work.

　 Early in the morning the dreamers awoke and started their day"s hard work. The people in the castle did not get up until later, but when they did, why did the great bell start ringing? Why did people ride out of the castle to the village as fast as they could?

　 The answer lay in the bed of the Marquis. He lay there, like stone, with a knife pushed into his heart. On his chest lay a piece of paper with the words：

　 "Drive him fast to his grave. This is from JACQUES."

　5 Two men speak of love

　Twelve months after the death of the Marquis in France, Charles Darnay had become a successful teacher of French in London. He had known, when he came to London, that he would have to work hard to earn his living, and he was successful. He was also in love. He had loved Lucie Manette from the time when his life was in danger in the Old Bailey. He had never heard a sound so sweet as her gentle voice；he had never seen a face so beautiful as hers. But he had never spoken to her about his love. The death of his uncle in France had become, over the twelve months, like a dream to him, but he had said nothing to Lucie of his feelings, nor of what had happened. He had good reason for this.

　 But one day in the summer he came to Dr Manette"s home in London. He knew that Lucie was out with Miss Pross, and he had decided to speak to her father. Dr Manette was now strong in body and mind, and sad memories of his long years in prison did not come back to him often. When Darnay arrived, the Doctor welcomed him warmly.

　 "Dr Manette, " said Darnay, "I know that Lucie is out. But I have come here today to speak to you."

　 There was a silence."Do you want to speak to me about Lucie?" asked the Doctor, slowly.

　 "Yes. Dear Dr Manette, I love your daughter dearly. If there was ever love in the world, I love Lucie."

　 "I believe you, " said Dr Manette sadly." It"s very hard for me to speak of her at any time, but I believe you, Charles Darnay. Have you spoken to Lucie about your love?"

　 "No, never. I know how much your daughter means to you, Dr Manette. Her love for you, and your love for her, these are the greatest things in your life, and in hers. I love Lucie. With all my heart I love her. But I do not want to come between you and her. The two of you will never be separated because of me."

　For a moment Dr Manette turned his head away, and his eyes were full of fear, and pain. Then he looked back at Darnay, and tried to smile.

　 "You have spoken very honestly, Charles, " he said."Have you any reason to believe that Lucie loves you?"

　 "None！"

　"Then what do you want from me?"

　"A promise. A promise that if Lucie ever tells you that she loves me, you will not speak against me, and will tell her what I have said. I know that she would never accept me if she believed that it would make you unhappy."

　 "I can promise you more than that, Charles. If Lucie ever tells me that she loves you, I shall give her to you."

　 "Thank you, Dr Manette, "said Darnay, gratefully."There is one thing more. My name in England is not my real name. I want to tell you what my real name is, and why I am in England."

　 "Stop！"said the Doctor. He had even put his hands over his ears."I don"t want to know. Tell me when I ask you. If Lucie agrees to marry you, you shall tell me on the morning of your marriage."

　 It was dark when Darnay left Dr Manette, and it was some time later when Lucie and Miss Pross came home.

　 "Father, " Lucie called, "where are you?" She heard no answer, but there were strange sounds coming from her father"s bedroom Frightened, she ran upstairs and found her father, pale and silent, busy at his old prison work of making shoes. The shadow of the Bastille had fallen on him again. She took his arm and spoke gently to him, and together they walked up and down for a long time until at last Dr Manette went quietly to bed.

　 Although Mr Carton visited Dr Manette"s house quite often, he usually said very little when he was there. One day in August he arrived when Dr Manette was out and he was received by Lucie. She had always been a little shy with him, but on that day she noticed something different in his face.

　 "Aren"t you well, Mr Carton?" she asked.

　"No, probably not, Miss Manette, but my way of life is not good for my health."

　 "That seems sad, " said Lucie gently."Why do you not change your way of life?"

　 "It"s too late for that. I shall never be better than I am. But, Miss Manette, there is something that I want to say to you, but I find it so difficult. Will you listen to me?"

　 "If it will help you, Mr Carton, I will be happy to listen to you, " said Lucie, but she was pale and trembling.

　 "Miss Manette, I know that you could never have feelings of love for me, a man who has spent his life so badly."

　 "Even without my love, Mr Carton, can I not save you? Can I not help you?"

　 "No, Miss Manette, " said Carton."Even if it was possible for you to love me, it is too late for me. I would only make you sad, and destroy your life. But it has been a last dream of my heart. To see you and your father together, to see the home that you have made for him—this has brought back old and happier memories for me."

　 "Can I do nothing to help you?" asked Lucie sadly.

　 "Only this, Miss Manette. Let me remember that I spoke to you of the feelings of my heart, and that you were kind and gentle towards me."

　 "Oh, Mr Carton. Try again to change."

　 "No, Miss Manette, it is too late. My bad habits will never change now. But tell me that you will never speak of what I have said today, not to anyone, not even to the person dearest to you."

　 "Mr Carton, " said Lucie."This is your secret. No one will ever know of it from me."

　"Thank you, Miss Manette. I shall never speak of this again. But in the hour of my death, it will be a happy memory for me that my last words of love were to you."

　 Lucie had never heard Mr Carton speak like this before. Tears came to her eyes as she thought of his hopeless, miserable life.

　 "Don"t cry, " said Sydney Carton."I am not worth your love. But you should know that for you, or for anyone close to you, I would do anything. Please remember always, that there is a man who would give his life to keep someone you love alive and close to you. Goodbye, Miss Manette."

　 On the day of Lucie"s marriage to Charles Darnay, Mr Lorry and Miss Pross stood, with Lucie, outside the door of Dr Manette"s room. Inside, the Doctor and Mr Darnay had been talking together for a long time.

　 Soon it would be time to leave for the church. Lucie looked very beautiful, and Mr Lorry watched her proudly. He talked about the day, So long ago, when he had brought Lucie, as a baby in his arms, from France to England. Miss Pross, too, had her memories

　and thought fondly of her brother Solomon. He had stolen money from her many years ago and she had never seen him since then, but she still loved him.

　 The door of the Doctor"s room opened and he came out with Charles Darnay. The Doctor"s face was white, but he was calm. He took his daughter"s arm and they went out to the waiting coach. The others followed in a second coach and soon, in a nearby church, Lucie Manette and Charles Darnay were marrined.

　After the marriage Lucie and Charles came back to the house for breakfast, and then Lucie had to say goodbye to her father for two weeks—the first time they had not been together since his return from Paris.

　When Lucie and Charles had left, Mr Lorry noticed a change in the Doctor. A little sadness was natural, but there was a lost, frightened look in the Doctor"s eyes, which worried Mr Lorry very much. When he left to go to Tellson"s Bank, he whispered to Miss Pross that he would return as quickly as he could.

　 Two hours later he hurried back to the house, and Miss Pross met him at the door.

　"Oh, what shall we do, Mr Lorry?" she cried."He doesn"t know me, and is making shoes again！"

　Mr Lorry went up to the Doctor"s room."Dr Manette, my dear friend. Look at me. Don"t you remember me?"

　 But Dr Manette said nothing and worked on in silence. Once again, he was a prisoner in the Bastille, without friends or family, without even a name of his own.

　 For nine days and nine nights the shoemaker worked on, leaving his table only to sleep, eat, or walk up and down his room. Mr Lorry sat with him night and day, talking gently to him from time to time, trying to bring his friend"s mind back to the present.

　 Then at last, on the tenth morning, the shoemaking work was put away, and Dr Alexandre Manette, pale but calm, was his old self again. Lucie was never told, and in the quiet and happy years that followed her marriage, Dr Manette remained strong in mind and body.

　 6 Stormy years in France

　 In Monsieur Defarge"s wine－shop in Saint Antoine customers came and went all the time. They came to drink the thin, rough wine, but more often they came to listen and to talk, and to wait for news.

　 One day there were more customers than usual. Defarge had been away for three days, and when he returned that morning, he brought a stranger with him, a man who repaired roads.

　"Madame, " Defarge said to his wife, "this man, who is called Jacques, has walked a long way with me." One customer got up and went out."This mender of roads, " continued Defarge, "who is called Jacques, is a good man. Give him something to drink." A second man got up and went out. The man who repaired roads sat down and drank. A third man got up and went out.

　"Have you finished, my friend?" said Defarge."Then come and see the room I promised you."

　They went upstairs, to the room where Dr Manette had sat making shoes. The three men who had left the wine－shop were waiting. Defarge spoke to them.

　 "No names. You are Jacques One, Jacques Two and Jacques Three. I am Jacques Four. This is Jacques Five. He brings us news of our poor friend Gaspard, whose child was killed by the Marquis"s coach a year ago."

　"I first saw Gaspard, " said Jacques Five, "holding on under the Marquis"s coach as it drove into our village. He ran away, but that night the Marquis was murdered. Gaspard disappeared and was only caught a few weeks ago. The soldiers brought him into the village and hanged him. And they have left his body hanging in the village square, where the women go to fetch water, and our children play."

　 When Jacques Five had left them, Jacques One said to his friends, "What do you say? Shall we put their names on the list?"

　"Yes, all of them. The castle and all of the family of Evrémonde."

　"Is the list safe?" asked Jacques Two.

　 "Yes, my friend, " said Defarge."My wife remembers everything. But more than that, every name is carefully knitted into her work. Nothing can be forgotten."

　 A few days later Defarge reported to his wife some news from his friend"Jacques" in the police.

　 "A new spy has been sent to Saint Antoine. His name is Barsad, John Barsad. He"s English."

　 "What does he look like? Do we know?"

　 "He"s about forty years old, quite tall, black hair, thin face, " said Defarge.

　 "Good, " said his wife."I"ll put him on the list tomorrow. But you seem tired tonight. And sad."

　"Well, " said Defarge, "it is a long time."

　 "It takes time to prepare for change. The crimes against the people of France cannot be revenged in a day."

　"But we may not live to see the end."

　"Even if that happens, " replied Madame Defarge, "we shall help it to come. But I believe that we shall see the day of our revenge against these hated noblemen."

　The next day a stranger came into the wine－shop. At once, Madame Defarge picked up a rose from the table and put it in her hair. As soon as they saw this, the customers stopped talking and, one by one, without hurrying, left the wine－shop.

　 "Good day, Madame, " said the stranger.

　 "Good day, Monsieur, "said Madame Defarge, but to herself she said, "About forty years old, tall, black hair, thin face. Yes, I know who you are, Mr John Barsad."

　 "Is business good?" asked the stranger.

　 "Business is bad, The people are so poor." Madame Defarge looked over to the door."Ah, here is my husband."

　 "Good day, Jacques, "said the spy.

　 "You"re wrong, " said Defarge, staring at him."That"s not my name. I am Ernest Defarge."

　 "It"s all the same, " said the spy easily."I remember something about you, Monsieur Defarge. You took care of Dr Manette when he came out of the Bastille."

　 "That"s true, " said Defarge.

　"Have you heard much from Dr Manette and his daughter? They"re in England now."

　"No, not for a long time."

　 She was married recently. Not to an Englishman, but to a Frenchman. It"s quite interesting when you remember poor Gaspard. Miss Manette has married the nephew of the Marquis that Gaspard killed. Her ...