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said that, so far as he could judge, it was a wrong and foolish oneon England’s part. He added, in a jesting way, that perhapsGeorge Washington might gain almost as great a name in historyas George the Third. But there was no harm in his way of sayingthis: it was said laughingly, and to beguile the time.”Any strongly marked expression of face on the part of a chiefactor in a scene of great interest to whom many eyes are directed,will be unconsciously imitated by the spectators. Her forehead waspainfully anxious and intent as she gave this evidence, and, in thepauses when she stopped for the judge to write it down, watchedits effect upon the counsel for and against. Among the lookers-onthere was the same expression in all quarters of the court;insomuch, that a great majority of the foreheads there, might havebeen mirrors reflecting the witness, when the Judge looked upfrom his notes to glare at that tremendous heresy about GeorgeWashington.Mr. Attorney-General now signified to my Lord, that he deemedit necessary, as a matter of precaution and form, to call the younglady’s father, Doctor Manette. Who was called accordingly.“Doctor Manette, look upon the prisoner. Have you ever seenhim before?”“Once. When he called at my lodgings in London. Some threeCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesyears, or three years and a half ago.”“Can you identify him as your fellow-passenger on board thepacket, or speak to his conversation with your daughter?”“Sir, I can do neither.”“Is there any particular and special reason for your beingunable to do either?”He answered, in a low voice, “There is.”“Has it been your misfortune to undergo a long imprisonment,without trial, or even accusation, in your native country, DoctorManette?”He answered, in a tone that went to every heart, “A longimprisonment.”“Were you newly released on the occasion in question?”“They tell me so.”“Have you no remembrance of the occasion?”“None. My mind is a blank, from some time—I cannot even saywhat time—when I employed myself, in my captivity, in makingshoes, to the time when I found myself living in London with mydear daughter here. She had become familiar to me, when agracious God restored my faculties; but, I am unable to say howshe had become familiar. I have no remembrance of the process.”Mr. Attorney-General sat down, and the father and daughter satdown together.A singular circumstance then arose in the case. The object inhand being to show that the prisoner went down, with somefellow-plotter untracked, in the Dover mail on that Friday night inNovember five years ago, and got out of the mail in the night, as ablind, at a place where he did not remain, but from which hetravelled back some dozen miles or more, to a garrison andCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesdockyard, and there collected information; a witness was called toidentify him as having been at the precise time required, in thecoffee-room of an hotel, in that garrison-and-dockyard town,waiting for another person. The prisoner’s counsel was cross-examining this witness with no result, except that he had neverseen the prisoner on any other occasion, when the wiggedgentleman who had all this time been looking at the ceiling of thecourt, wrote a word or two on a little piece of paper, screwed it up,and tossed it to him. Opening this piece of paper in the next pause,the counsel looked with great attention and curiosity at theprisoner.“You say again you are quite sure that it was the prisoner?”The witness was quite sure.“Did you ever see anybody very like the prisoner?”Not so like (the witness said) as that he could be mistaken.“Look well upon that gentleman, my learned friend there,”pointing to him who had tossed the paper over, “and then lookwell upon the prisoner. How say you? Are they very like eachother?”Allowing for my learned friend’s appearance being careless andslovenly if not debauched, they were sufficiently like each other tosurprise, not only the witness, but everybody present, when theywere thus brought into comparison. My Lord being prayed to bidmy learned friend lay aside his wig, and giving no very graciousconsent, the likeness became much more remarkable. My Lordinquired of Mr. Stryver (the prisoner’s counsel), whether theywere next to try Mr. Carton (name of my learned friend) fortreason? But, Mr. Stryver replied to my Lord, no; but he wouldask the witness to tell him whether what happened once, mightCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citieshappen twice; whether he would have been so confident if he hadseen this illustration of his rashness sooner, whether he would beso confident, having seen it; and more. The upshot of which, was,to smash this witness like a crockery vessel, and shiver his part ofthe case to useless lumber.Mr. Cruncher had by this time taken quite a lunch of rust off hisfingers in his following of the evidence. He had now to attendwhile Mr. Stryver fitted the prisoner’s case on the jury, like acompact suit of clothes; showing them how the patriot, Barsad,was a hired spy and traitor, an unblushing trafficker in blood, andone of the greatest scoundrels upon earth since accursed Judas—which he certainly did look rather like. How the virtuous servant,Cly, was his friend and partner, and was worthy to be; how, thewatchful eyes of those forgers and false swearers had rested on theprisoner as a victim, because some family affairs in France, hebeing of French extraction, did require him making thosepassages across the Channel—though what those affairs were, aconsideration for others who were near and dear to him, forbadehim, even for his life, to disclose. How the evidence that had beenwarped and wrested from the young lady, whose anguish in givingit they had witnessed, came to nothing, involving the mere littleinnocent gallantries and politeness likely to pass between anyyoung gentleman and young lady so thrown together;—with theexception of that reference to George Washington, which wasaltogether too extravagant and impossible to be regarded in anyother light than as a monstrous joke. How it would be a weaknessin the government to break down in this attempt to practise forpopularity on the lowest national antipathies and fears, andtherefore Mr. Attorney-General had made the most of it; how,Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesnevertheless, it rested upon nothing, save that vile and infamouscharacter of evidence too often disfiguring such cases, and ofwhich the State Trials of this country were full. But, there myLord interposed (with as grave a face as if it had not been true),saying that he could not sit upon that Bench and suffer thoseallusions.Mr. Stryver then called his few witnesses, and Mr. Cruncherhad next to attend while Mr. Attorney-General turned the wholesuit of clothes Mr. Stryver had fitted on the jury, inside out:showing how Barsad and Cly were even a hundred times betterthan he had thought them, and the prisoner a hundred timesworse. Lastly, came my Lord himself, turning the suit of clothes,now inside out, now outside in, but on the whole decidedlytrimming and shaping them into grave-clothes for the prisoner.And now, the jury turned to consider, and the great fliesswarmed again.Mr. Carton, who had so long sat looking at the ceiling of thecourt, changed neither his place nor his attitude, even in thisexcitement. While his learned friend, Mr. Stryver, massing hispapers before him, whispered with those who sat near, and fromtime to time glanced anxiously at the jury; while all the spectatorsmoved more or less, and grouped themselves anew; while even myLord himself arose from his seat, and slowly paced up and downhis platform, not unattended by a suspicion in the minds of theaudience that his state was feverish; this one man sat leaningback, with his torn gown half off him, his untidy wig put on just asit happened to light on his head after its removal, his hands in hispockets, and his eyes on the ceiling as they had been all day.Something especially reckless in his demeanour, not only gaveCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citieshim a disreputable look, but so diminished the strong resemblancehe undoubtedly bore to the prisoner (which his momentaryearnestness, when they were compared together, hadstrengthened), that many of the lookers-on, taking note of himnow, said to one another they would hardly have thought the twowere so alike. Mr. Cruncher made the observation to his nextneighbour, and added, “I’d hold a half a guinea that he don’t get nolaw-work to do. Don’t look like the sort of one to get any, do he?”Yet, this Mr. Carton took in more of the details of the scenethan he appeared to take in; for now, when Miss Manette’s headdropped upon her father’s breast, he was the first to see it, and tosay audibly: “Officer! look to that young lady. Help the gentlemanto take her out. Don’t you see she will fall!”There was much commiseration for her as she was removed,and much sympathy with her father. It had evidently been a greatdistress to him, to have the days of his imprisonment recalled. Hehad shown strong internal agitation when he was questioned, andthat pondering or brooding look which made him old, had beenupon him, like a heavy cloud, ever since. As he passed out, thejury, who had turned back and paused a moment, spoke, throughtheir foreman.They were not agreed, and wished to retire. My Lord (perhapswith George Washington on his mind) showed some surprise thatthey were not agreed, but signified his pleasure that they shouldretire under watch and ward, and retired himself. The trial hadlasted all day, and the lamps in the court were now being lighted.It began to be rumoured that the jury would be out a long while.The spectators dropped off to get refreshment, and the prisonerwithdrew to the back of the dock, and sat down.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesMr. Lorry, who had gone out when the young lady and herfather went out, now reappeared, and beckoned to Jerry: who, inthe slackened interest, could easily get near him.“Jerry, if you wish to take something to eat, you can. But, keepin the way. You will be sure to hear when the jury come in. Don’tbe a moment behind them, for I want you to take the verdict backto the bank. You are the quickest messenger I know, and you willget to Temple Bar long before I can.”Jerry had just enough forehead to knuckle, and he knuckled itin acknowledgment of this communication and a shilling. Mr.Carton came up at the moment, and touched Mr. Lorry on thearm.“How is the young lady?”“She is greatly distressed; but her father is comforting her, andshe feels the better for being out of court.”“I’ll tell the prisoner so. It won’t do for a respectable bankgentleman like you to be seen speaking to him publicly, youknow.”Mr. Lorry reddened as if he were conscious of having debatedthe point in his mind, and Mr. Carton made his way to the outsideof the bar. The way out of court lay in that direction, and Jerryfollowed him, all eyes, ears, and spikes.“Mr. Darnay!”The prisoner came forward directly.“You will naturally be anxious to hear of the witness, MissManette. She will do very well. You have seen the worst of heragitation.”“I am deeply sorry to have been the cause of it. Could you tellher so for me, with my fervent acknowledgments?”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Cities“Yes, I could. I will, if you ask it.”Mr. Carton’s manner was so careless as to be almost insolent.He stood, half turned from the prisoner, lounging with his elbowagainst the bar.“I do ask it. Accept my cordial thanks.”“What,” said Carton, still only half turned towards him, “do youexpect, Mr. Darnay?”“The worst.”“It’s the wisest thing to expect, and the likeliest. But I thinktheir withdrawing is in your favour.”Loitering on the way out of court not being allowed, Jerryheard no more: but left them—so like each other in feature, sounlike each other in manner—standing side by side, both reflectedin the glass above them.An hour and a half limped heavily away in the thief-and-rascalcrowded passages below, even though assisted off with muttonpies and ale. The hoarse messenger, uncomfortably seated on aform after taking that refection, had dropped into a doze, when aloud murmur and a rapid tide of people setting up the stairs thatled to the court, carried him along with them.“Jerry! Jerry!” Mr. Lorry was already calling at the door whenhe got there.“Here, sir! It’s a fight to get back again. Here I am, sir!”Mr. Lorry handed him a paper through the throng. “Quick!Have you got it?”“Yes, sir!”Hastily written on the paper was the word “ACQUITTED.”“If you had sent the message, ‘Recalled to Life,’ again,”muttered Jerry, as he turned, “I should have known what youCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesmeant, this time.”He had no opportunity of saying, or so much as thinking,anything else, until he was clear of the Old Bailey; for, the crowdcame pouring out with a vehemence that nearly took him off hislegs, and a loud buzz swept into the street as if the baffled blue-flies were dispersing in search of other carrion.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesChapter XCONGRATULATORYF rom the dimly-lighted passages of the court, the lastsediment of the human stew that had been boiling there allday, was straining off, when Doctor Manette, LucieManette, his daughter, Mr. Lorry, the solicitor for the defence, andits counsel, Mr. Stryver, stood gathered round Mr. CharlesDarnay—just released—congratulating him on his escape fromdeath.It would have been difficult by a far brighter light, to recognizein Doctor Manette, intellectual of face and upright of bearing, theshoemaker of the garret in Paris. Yet, no one could have looked athim twice, without looking again: even though the opportunity ofobservation had not extended to the mournful cadence of his lowgrave voice, and to the abstraction that overclouded him fitfully,without any apparent reason. While one external cause, and that areference to his long lingering agony, would always—as on thetrial—evoke this condition from the depths of his soul, it was alsoin its nature to arise of itself, and to draw a gloom over him, asincomprehensible to those unacquainted with his story as if theyhad seen the shadow of the actual Bastille thrown upon him by asummer sun, when the substance was three hundred miles away.Only his daughter had the power of charming this blackbrooding from his mind. She was the golden thread that unitedhim to a Past beyond his misery, and to a Present beyond hismisery: and the sound of her voice, the light of her face, the touchCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesof her hand, had a strong beneficial influence with him almostalways. Not absolutely always, for she could recall some occasionson which her power had failed; but they were few and slight, andshe believed them over.Mr. Darnay had kissed her hand fervently and gratefully, andhad turned to Mr. Stryver, whom he warmly thanked. Mr. Stryver,a man of little more than thirty, but looking twenty years olderthan he was, stout, loud, red, bluff, and free from any drawback ofdelicacy, had a pushing way of shouldering himself (morally andphysically) into companies and conversations, that argued well forhis shouldering his way up in life.He still had his wig and gown on, and he said, squaring himselfat his late client to that degree that he squeezed the innocent Mr.Lorry clean out of the group: “I am glad to have brought you offwith honour, Mr. Darnay. It was an infamous prosecution, grosslyinfamous; but not the less likely to succeed on that account.”“You have laid me under an obligation to you for life—in twosenses,” said his late client, taking his hand.“I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and my best is asgood as another man’s, I believe.”It clearly being incumbent on some one to say, “Much better,”