With these words and a final snap of his fingers, Mr. Stryvershouldered himself into Fleet Street, amidst the generalapprobation of his hearers. Mr. Lorry and Charles Darnay wereleft alone at the desk in the general departure from the Bank.“Will you take charge of the letter?” said Mr. Lorry. “You knowwhere to deliver it?”“I do.”“Will you undertake to explain, that we suppose it to have beenaddressed here, on the chance of our knowing where to forward it,and that it has been here some time?”“I will do so. Do you start for Paris from here?”“From here, at eight.”“I will come back to see you off.”Very ill at ease with himself, and with Stryver and most othermen, Darnay made the best of his way into the quiet of theTemple, opened the letter and read it. These were its contents:“Prison of the Abbaye, Paris.“June 21, 1792.“After having long been in danger of my life at the hands of thevillage, I have been seized, with great violence and indignity, andCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesbrought a long journey on foot to Paris. On the road I havesuffered a great deal. Nor is that all; my house has beendestroyed—razed to the ground.“The crime for which I am imprisoned, Monsieur heretofore theMarquis, and for which I shall be summoned before the tribunal,and shall lose my life (without your so generous help), is, they tellme, treason against the majesty of the people, in that I have actedagainst them for an emigrant. It is in vain I represent that I haveacted for them, and not against, according to your commands. It isin vain I represent that, before the sequestration of emigrantproperty, I have remitted the imposts they have ceased to pay; thatI had collected no rent; that I had had recourse to no process. Theonly response is, that I have acted for an emigrant, and where isthat emigrant?“Ah! most gracious Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, where isthat emigrant? I cry in my sleep where is he? I demand of Heaven,will he not come to deliver me? No answer. Ah Monsieurheretofore the Marquis, I send my desolate cry across the sea,hoping it may perhaps reach your ears through the great bank ofTilson known at Paris!“For the love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of the honourof your noble name, I supplicate you, Monsieur heretofore theMarquis, to succour and release me. My fault is, that I have beentrue to you. Oh Monsieur heretofore the Marquis, I pray you beyou true to me!“From this prison here of horror, whence I every hour tendnearer and nearer to destruction, I send you, Monsieur heretoforethe Marquis, the assurance of my dolorous and unhappy service.“Your afflicted, “GABELLE”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesThe latent uneasiness in Darnay’s mind was roused to vigorouslife by this letter. The peril of an old servant and a good one,whose only crime was fidelity to himself and his family, stared himso reproachfully in the face, that, as he walked to and fro in theTemple considering what to do, he almost hid his face from thepassers-by.He knew very well, that in his horror of the deed which hadculminated the bad deeds and bad reputation of the old familyhouse, in his resentful suspicions of his uncle, and in the aversionwith which his conscience regarded the crumbling fabric that hewas supposed to uphold, he had acted imperfectly. He knew verywell, that in his love for Lucie, his renunciation of his social place,though by no means new to his own mind, had been hurried andincomplete. He knew that he ought to have systematically workedit out and supervised it, and that he had meant to do it, and that ithad never been done.The happiness of his own chosen English home, the necessity ofbeing always actively employed, the swift changes and troubles ofthe time which had followed on one another so fast, that the eventsof this week annihilated the immature plans of last week, and theevents of the week following made all new again; he knew verywell, that to the force of these circumstances he had yielded:—notwithout disquiet, but still without continuous and accumulatingresistance. That he had watched the times for a time of action, andthat they had shifted and struggled until the time had gone by, andthe nobility were trooping from France by every highway andbyway, and their property was in course of confiscation anddestruction, and their very names were blotting out, was as wellknown to himself as it could be to any new authority in FranceCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesthat might impeach him for it.But, he had oppressed no man, he had imprisoned no man; hewas so far from having harshly exacted payment of his dues, thathe had relinquished them of his own will, thrown himself on aworld with no favour in it, won his own private place there, andearned his own bread. Monsieur Gabelle had held theimpoverished and involved estate on written instructions, to sparethe people, to give them what little there was to give—such fuel asthe heavy creditors would let them have in the winter, and suchproduce as could be saved from the same grip in the summer—and no doubt he had put the fact in plea and proof, for his ownsafety, so that it could not but appear now.This favoured the desperate resolution Charles Darnay hadbegun to make, that he would go to Paris.Yes. Like the mariner in the old story, the winds and streamshad driven him within the influence of the Loadstone Rock, and itwas drawing him to itself, and he must go. Everything that arosebefore his mind drifted him on, faster and faster, more and moresteadily, to the terrible attraction. His latent uneasiness had been,that bad aims were being worked out in his own unhappy land bybad instruments, and that he who could not fail to know that hewas better than they, was not there, trying to do something to staybloodshed, and assert the claims of mercy and humanity. With thisuneasiness half stifled, and half reproaching him, he had beenbrought to the pointed comparison of himself with the brave oldgentleman in whom duty was so strong; upon that comparison(injurious to himself) had instantly followed the sneers ofMonseigneur, which had stung him bitterly, and those of Stryver,which above all were coarse and galling, for old reasons. UponCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesthose, had followed Gabelle’s letter: the appeal of an innocentprisoner, in danger of death, to his justice, honour, and goodname.His resolution was made. He must go to Paris.Yes. The Loadstone Rock was drawing him, and he must sailon, until he struck. He knew of no rock; he saw hardly any danger.The intention with which he had done what he had done, evenalthough he had left it incomplete, presented it before him in anaspect that would be gratefully acknowledged in France on hispresenting himself to assert it. Then, that glorious vision of doinggood, which is so often the sanguine mirage of so many goodminds, arose before him, and he even saw himself in the illusionwith some influence to guide this raging Revolution that wasrunning so fearfully wild.As he walked to and fro with his resolution made, he consideredthat neither Lucie nor her father must know of it until he wasgone. Lucie should be spared the pain of separation; and herfather, always reluctant to turn his thoughts toward the dangerousground of old, should come to the knowledge of the step, as a steptaken, and not in the balance of suspense and doubt. How much ofthe incompleteness of his situation was referable to her father,through the painful anxiety to avoid reviving old associations ofFrance in his mind, he did not discuss with himself. But, thatcircumstance, too, had had its influence in his course.He walked to and fro, with thoughts very busy, until it was timeto return to Tellson’s and take leave of Mr. Lorry. As soon as hearrived in Paris he would present himself to this old friend, but hemust say nothing of his intention now.A carriage with post-horses was ready at the Bank door, andCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesJerry was booted and equipped.“I have delivered that letter,” said Charles Darnay to Mr. Lorry.“I would not consent to your being charged with any writtenanswer, but perhaps you will take a verbal one?”“That I will, and readily,” said Mr. Lorry, “if it is notdangerous.”“Not at all. Though it is to a prisoner in the Abbaye.”“What is his name?” said Mr. Lorry, with his open pocketbookin his hand.“Gabelle.”“Gabelle. And what is the message to the unfortunate Gabellein prison?”“Simply, ‘that he has received the letter, and will come.’”“Any time mentioned?”“He will start upon his journey tomorrow night.”“Any person mentioned?”“No.”He helped Mr. Lorry to wrap himself in a number of coats andcloaks, and went out with him from the warm atmosphere of theold Bank, into the misty air of Fleet Street. “My love to Lucie, andto little Lucie,” said Mr. Lorry at parting, “and take precious careof them till I come back.” Charles Darnay shook his head anddoubtfully smiled, as the carriage rolled away.That night—it was the fourteenth of August—he sat up late,and wrote two fervent letters; one was to Lucie, explaining thestrong obligation he was under to go to Paris, and showing her, atlength, the reasons that he had, for feeling confident that he couldbecome involved in no personal danger there; the other was to theDoctor, confiding Lucie and their dear child to his care, andCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesdwelling on the same topics with the strongest assurances. Toboth, he wrote that he would despatch letters in proof of his safety,immediately after his arrival. It was a hard day, that day of beingamong them, with the first reservation of their joint lives on hismind. It was a hard matter to preserve the innocent deceit ofwhich they were profoundly unsuspicious. But, an affectionateglance at his wife, so happy and busy, made him resolute not to tellher what impended (he had been half moved to do it, so strange itwas to him to act in anything without her quiet aid), and the daypassed quickly. Early in the evening he embraced her, and herscarcely less dear namesake, pretending that he would return by-and-by (an imaginary engagement took him out, and he hadsecreted a valise of clothes ready), and so he emerged into theheavy mist of the heavy streets, with a heavier heart.The unseen force was drawing him fast to itself, now, and allthe tides and winds were setting straight and strong towards it. Heleft his two letters with a trusty porter, to be delivered half an hourbefore midnight, and no sooner; took horse for Dover; and beganhis journey. ‘For the love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of thehonour of your noble name!’ was the poor prisoner’s cry withwhich he strengthened his sinking heart, as he left all that wasdear on earth behind him, and floated away for the LoadstoneRock.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesBOOK THETHIRDTHE TRACK OF ASTORMCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesChapter XXXIIN SECRETT he traveller fared slowly on his way, who fared towardsParis from England in the autumn of the year onethousand seven hundred and ninety-two. More thanenough of bad roads, bad equipages, and bad horses, he wouldhave encountered to delay him, though the fallen and unfortunateKing of France had been upon his throne in all his glory; but, thechanged times were fraught with other obstacles than these. Everytown-gate and village taxing-house had its band of citizen-patriots,with their national muskets in a most explosive state of readiness,who stopped all comers and goers, cross-questioned them,inspected their papers, looked for their names in lists of their own,turned them back, or sent them on, or stopped them and laid themin hold, as their capricious judgment or fancy deemed best for thedawning Republic One and Indivisible, of Liberty, Equality,Fraternity, or Death.A very few French leagues of his journey were accomplished,when Charles Darnay began to perceive that for him along thesecountry roads there was no hope of return until he should havebeen declared a good citizen at Paris. Whatever might befall now,he must on to his journey’s end. Not a mean village closed uponhim, not a common barrier dropped across the road behind him,but he knew it to be another iron door in the series that wasbarred between him and England. The universal watchfulness soencompassed him, that if he had been taken in a net, or wereCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesbeing forwarded to his destination in a cage, he could not have felthis freedom more completely gone.This universal watchfulness not only stopped him on thehighway twenty times in a stage, but retarded his progress twentytimes in a day, by riding after him and taking him back, ridingbefore him and stopping him by anticipation, riding with him andkeeping him in charge. He had been days upon his journey inFrance alone, when he went to bed tired out, in a little town on thehigh road, still a long way from Paris.Nothing but the production of the afflicted Gabelle’s letter fromhis prison of the Abbaye would have got him on so far. Hisdifficulty at the guardhouse in this small place had been such, thathe felt his journey to have come to a crisis. And he was, therefore,as little surprised as a man could be, to find himself awakened atthe small inn to which he had been remitted until morning, in themiddle of the night.Awakened by a timid local functionary and three armedpatriots in rough red caps and with pipes in their mouths, who satdown on the bed.“Emigrant,” said the functionary, “I am going to send you on toParis, under an escort.”“Citizen, I desire nothing more than to get to Paris, though Icould dispense with the escort.”“Silence!” growled a red-cap, striking at the coverlet with thebutt-end of his musket. “Peace, aristocrat!”“It is as the good patriot says,” observed the timid functionary.“You are an aristocrat, and must have an escort—and must pay forit.”“I have no choice,” said Charles Darnay.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Cities“Choice! Listen to him!” cried the same scowling red-cap. “As ifit was not a favour to be protected from the lamp-iron!”“It is always as the good patriot says,” observed the functionary.“Rise and dress yourself, emigrant.”Darnay complied, and was taken back to the guardhouse,where other patriots in rough red caps were smoking, drinking,and sleeping, by a watch-fire. Here he paid a heavy price for hisescort, and hence he started with it on the wet, wet roads at threeo’clock in the morning.The escort were two mounted patriots in red caps andtricoloured cockades, armed with national muskets and sabres,who rode one on either side of him. The escorted governed hisown horse, but a loose line was attached to his bridle, the end ofwhich one of the patriots kept girded round his wrist. In this statethey set forth with the sharp rain driving in their faces: clatteringat a heavy dragoon trot over the uneven town pavement, and outupon the mire-deep roads. In this state they traversed withoutchange, except of horses and pace, all the mire-deep leagues thatlay between them and the capital.They travelled in the night, halting an hour or two afterdaybreak, and lying by until the twilight fell. The escort were sowretchedly clothed, that they twisted straw round their bare legs,and thatched their ragged shoulders to keep the wet off. Apartfrom the personal discomfort of being so attended, and apart fromsuch considerations of present danger as arose from one of thepatriots being chronically drunk, and carrying his musket veryrecklessly, Charles Darnay did not allow the restraint that was laidupon him to awaken any serious fears in his breast; for, hereasoned with himself that it could have no reference to the meritsCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesof an individual case that was not yet stated, and of