a tale of two cities(双城记)-46

friendship and warm attachment, all was done. He never thoughtof Carton. His mind was so full of the others, that he never oncethought of him.He had time to finish these letters before the lights were putout. When he lay down on his straw bed, he thought he had donewith this world.But, it beckoned him back in his sleep, and showed itself inshining forms. Free and happy, back in the old house in SohoCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Cities(though it had nothing in it like the real house), unaccountablyreleased and light of heart, he was with Lucie again, and she toldhim it was all a dream, and he had never gone away. A pause offorgetfulness, and then he had even suffered, and had come backto her, dead and at peace, and yet there was no difference in him.Another pause of oblivion, and he awoke in the sombre morning,unconscious where he was or what had happened, until it flashedupon his mind, “this is the day of my death!”Thus, had he come through the hours, to the day when the fifty-two heads were to fall. And now, while he was composed, andhoped that he could meet the end with quiet heroism, a new actionbegan in his waking thoughts, which was very difficult to master.He had never seen the instrument that was to terminate his life.How high it was from the ground, how many steps it had, wherehe would be stood, how he would be touched, whether thetouching hands would be dyed red, which way his face would beturned, whether he would be the first, or might be the last: theseand many similar questions, in no wise directed by his will,obtruded themselves over and over again, countless times. Neitherwere they connected with fear: he was conscious of no fear.Rather, they originated in a strange besetting desire to know whatto do when the time came; a desire gigantically disproportionate tothe few swift moments to which it referred; a wondering that wasmore like the wondering of some other spirit within his, than hisown.The hours went on as he walked to and fro, and the clocksstruck the numbers he would never hear again. Nine gone forever, ten gone for ever, eleven gone for ever, twelve coming on topass away. After a hard contest with the eccentric action ofCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesthought which had last perplexed him, he had got the better of it.He walked up and down softly repeating their names to himself.The worst of the strife was over. He could walk up and down, freefrom distracting fancies, praying for himself and for them.Twelve gone for ever.He had been apprised that the final hour was Three, and heknew he would be summoned some time earlier. inasmuch as thetumbrils jolted heavily and slowly through the streets. Therefore,he resolved to keep Two before his mind, as the hour, and so tostrengthen himself in the interval that he might be able, after thattime. to strengthen others.Walking regularly to and fro with his arms folded on his breast,a very different man from the prisoner, who had walked to and froat La Force, he heard One struck away from him, withoutsurprise. The hour had measured like most other hours. Devoutlythankful to Heaven for his recovered self-possession, he thought,“There is but another now,” and turned to walk again.Footsteps in the stone passage outside the door. He stopped.The key was put in the lock, and turned. Before the door wasopened, or as it opened, a man said in a low voice, in English: “Hehas never seen me here; I have kept out of his way. Go you inalone; I wait near. Lose no time!”The door was quickly opened and closed, and there stoodbefore him face to face, quiet, intent upon him, with the light of asmile on his features, and a cautionary finger on his lip, SydneyCarton.There was something so bright and remarkable in his look, that,for the moment, the prisoner misdoubted him to be an apparitionof his own imagining. But, he spoke, and it was his voice; he tookCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesthe prisoner’s hand, and it was his real grasp.“Of all the people upon earth, you least expected to see me?” hesaid.“I could not believe it to be you. I can scarcely believe it now.You are not”—the apprehension came suddenly into his mind—“aprisoner?”“No. I am accidentally possessed of a power over one of thekeepers here, and in virtue of it I stand before you. I come fromher—your wife, dear Darnay.”The prisoner wrung his hand.“I bring you a request from her.”“What is it?”“A most earnest, pressing, and emphatic entreaty, addressed toyou in the most pathetic tones of the voice so dear to you, that youwell remember.”The prisoner turned his face partly aside.“You have no time to ask me why I bring it, or what it means; Ihave no time to tell you. You must comply with it—take off thoseboots you wear, and draw on these of mine.”There was a chair against the wall of the cell, behind theprisoner. Carton, pressing forward, had already, with the speed oflightning, got him down into it, and stood over him, barefoot.“Draw on these boots of mine. Put your hands to them; putyour will to them. Quick!”“Carton, there is no escaping from this place; it never can bedone. You will only die with me. It is madness.”“It would be madness if I asked you to escape; but do I? When Iask you to pass out at that door, tell me it is madness and remainhere. Change that cravat for this of mine, that coat for this of mine.Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesWhile you do it. let me take this ribbon from your hair, and shakeout your hair like this of mine!”With wonderful quickness, and with a strength both of will andaction, that appeared quite supernatural, he forced all thesechanges upon him. The prisoner was like a young child in hishands.“Carton! Dear Carton! It is madness. It cannot beaccomplished, it never can be done, it has been attempted, andhas always failed. I implore you not to add your death to thebitterness of mine.”“Do I ask you, my dear Darnay, to pass the door? When I askthat, refuse. There are pen and ink and paper on this table. Is yourhand steady enough to write?”“It was when you came in.”“Steady it again, and write what I shall dictate. Quick, friend,quick!”Pressing his hand to his bewildered head, Darnay sat down atthe table. Carton, with his right hand in his breast, stood closebeside him.“Write exactly as I speak.”“To whom do I address it?”“To no one.” Carton still had his hand in his breast.“Do I date it?”“No.”The prisoner looked up, at each question. Carton standing overhim with his hand in his breast, looked down.“‘If you remember,’” said Carton, dictating, “‘the words thatpassed between us, long ago, you will readily comprehend thiswhen you see it. You do remember them, I know. It is not in yourCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesnature to forget them.’” He was drawing his hand from his breast;the prisoner chancing to look up in his hurried wonder as hewrote, the hand stopped, closing upon something.“Have you written “forget them’?” Carton asked.“I have. Is that a weapon in your hand?”“No; I am not armed.”“What is it in your hand?”“You shall know directly. Write on; there are but a few wordsmore.” He dictated again. “‘I am thankful that the time has come,when I can prove them. That I do so is no subject for regret orgrief.’” As he said these words with his eyes fixed on the writer, hishand slowly and softly moved down close to the writer’s face.The pen dropped from Darnay’s fingers on the table, and helooked about him vacantly.“What vapour is that?” he asked.“Vapour?”“Something that crossed me?”“I am conscious of nothing; there can be nothing here. Take upthe pen and finish. Hurry, hurry!”As if his memory were impaired, or his faculties disordered, theprisoner made an effort to rally his attention. As he looked atCarton with clouded eyes and with an altered manner ofbreathing, Carton—his hand again in his breast—looked steadilyat him.“Hurry, hurry!”The prisoner bent over the paper, once more.“‘If it had been otherwise’”; Carton’s hand was again watchfullyand softly stealing down; “‘I never should have used the longeropportunity. If it had been otherwise’”; the hand was at theCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesprisoner’s face; “‘I should but have had so much the more toanswer for. If it had been otherwise—,’” Carton looked at the penand saw it was trailing off into unintelligible signs.Carton’s hand moved back to his breast no more. The prisonersprang up with a reproachful look, but Carton’s hand was closeand firm to his nostrils, and Carton’s left arm caught him roundthe waist. For a few seconds he faintly struggled with the man whohad come to lay down his life for him; but, within a minute or so,he was stretched insensible on the ground.Quickly, but with his hands as true to the purpose as his heartwas, Carton dressed himself in the clothes the prisoner had laidaside, combed back his hair, and tied it with the ribbon theprisoner had worn. Then, he softly called, “Enter there! Come in!”and the Spy presented himself.“You see?” said Carton, looking up, as he kneeled on one kneebeside the insensible figure, putting the paper in the breast; “isyour hazard very great?”“M. Carton,” the Spy answered, with a timid snap of his fingers,“my hazard is not that, in the thick of business here, if you are trueto the whole of your bargain.”“Don’t fear me. I will be true to the death.”“You must be, Mr. Carton, if the tale of fifty-two is to be right.Being made right by you in that dress, I shall have no fear.”“Have no fear! I shall soon be out of the way of harming you,and the rest will soon be far from here, please God! Now, getassistance and take me to the coach.”“You?” said the Spy nervously.“Him, man, with whom I have exchanged. You go out at thegate by which you brought me in?”Charles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Cities“Of course.”“I was weak and faint when you brought me in, and I am fainternow you take me out. The parting interview has overpowered me.Such a thing has happened here, often, and too often. Your life isin your own hands. Quick! Call assistance!”“You swear not to betray me?” said the trembling Spy, as hepaused for a last moment.“Man, man!” returned Carton, stamping his foot; “have I swornby no solemn vow already, to go through with this, that you wastethe precious moments now? Take him yourself to the court-yardyou know of , place him yourself in the carriage, show him yourselfto Mr. Lorry, tell him yourself to give him no restorative but air,and to remember my words of last night, and his promise of lastnight, and drive away!”The Spy withdrew, and Carton seated himself at the table,resting his forehead on his hands. The Spy returned immediately,with two men.“How then?” said one of them, contemplating the fallen figure.“So afflicted to find that his friend has drawn a prize in the lotteryof Sainte Guillotine?”“A good patriot,” said the other, “could hardly have been moreafflicted if the Aristocrat had drawn a blank.”They raised the unconscious figure, placed it on a litter theyhad brought to the door, and bent to carry it away.“The time is short, Evremonde,” said the Spy, in a warningvoice.“I know it well,” answered Carton. “Be careful of my friend, Ientreat you, and leave me.”“Come, then, my children,” said Barsad. “Lift him, and comeCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two Citiesaway!”The door closed, and Carton was left alone. Straining hispowers of listening to the utmost, he listened for any sound thatmight denote suspicion or alarm. There was none. Keys turned,doors clashed, footsteps passed along distant passages: no cry wasraised, or hurry made, that seemed unusual. Breathing morefreely in a little while, he sat down at the table, and listened againuntil the clock struck Two.Sounds that he was not afraid of , for he divined their meaning,then began to be audible. Several doors were opened insuccession, and finally his own. A gaoler, with a list in his hand,looked in, merely saying, “Follow me, Evremonde!” and hefollowed him into a large dark room, at a distance. It was a darkwinter day, and what with the shadows within, and what with theshadows without, he could but dimly discern the others who werebrought there to have their arms bound. Some were standing;some seated. Some were lamenting, and in restless motion; but,these were few. The great majority were silent and still, lookingfixedly at the ground.As he stood by the wall in a dim corner, while some of the fifty-two were brought in after him, one man stopped in passing, toembrace him, as having a knowledge of him. It thrilled him with agreat dread of discovery; but the man went on. A very fewmoments after that, a young woman, with a slight girlish form, asweet spare face in which there was no vestige of colour, and largewidely opened patient eyes, rose from the seat where he hadobserved her sitting, and came to speak to him.“Citizen Evremonde,” she said, touching him with her coldhand. “I am a poor little seamstress, who was with you in LaCharles Dickens ElecBook ClassicsA Tale of Two CitiesForce.”He murmured for answer: “True. I forget what you wereaccused of ?”“Plots. Though the just Heaven knows I am innocent of any. Isit likely? Who would think of plotting with a poor little weakcreature like me?”The forlorn smile with which she said it, so touched him, thattears started from his eyes.“I am not afraid to die, Citizen Evremonde, but I have donenothing. I am not unwilling to die, if the Republic which is to do somuch good to us poor, will profit by my death; but I do not knowhow that can be, Citizen Evremonde. Such a poor weak littlecreature!”As the last thing on earth that his heart was to warm and softento, it warmed and softened to this pitiable girl.“I heard you were released, Citizen Evremonde. I hoped it wastrue?”“It was. But, I was again taken and condemned.”“If I may ride with you, Citizen Evremonde, will you let me holdyour hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it willgive me more courage.”As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden