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bet9עַ:a g 9 559 v i p<`Well! About two leagues beyond the summit of that hill above the village.'`I, my Pross?' (By this time, Mr. Lorry dared to be pleasant with her, on occasion.)

`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?'

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Two things at once impressed themselves on Mr. Lorry, as important above all others; the first, that this must be kept secret from Lucie; the second that it must be kept secret from all who knew him. In conjunction with Miss Pross, he took immediate steps towards the latter precaution, by giving out that the Doctor was not well, and required a few days of complete rest. In aid of the kind deception to be practised on his daughter, Miss Pross was to write, describing his having been called away professionally, and referring to an imaginary letter of two or three hurried lines in his own hand, represented to have been addressed to her by the same post.These measures, advisable to be taken in any case, Mr. Lorry took in the hope of his coming to himself. If that should happen soon, he kept another course in reserve; which was, to have a certain opinion that he thought the best, on the Doctor's case.

Defarge came in breathless, pulled off a red cap he wore, and looked around him! `Listen, everywhere!' said madame again. `Listen to him!' Defarge stood, panting, against a background of eager eyes and open mouths, formed outside the door; all those within the wine-shop had sprung to their feet.

`Barsad,' said Defarge, making it French by pronunciation. But, he had been so careful to get it accurately, that he then spelt it with perfect correctness.

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The idea was so acceptable in the prevalent absence of any idea, that the crowd caught it up with eagerness, and, loudly repeating the suggestion to have `em out, and to pull em out, mobbed the two vehicles so closely that they came to a stop. On the crowd's opening the coach doors, the one mourner scuffled out of himself and was in their hands for a moment; but he was so alert, and made such good use of his time, that in another moment he was scouring away up a bystreet, after shedding his cloak, hat, long hatband, white pocket handkerchief, and other symbolical tears.<`How many were with him?'

`Do you mean the prisoner?' inquired the Judge, knitting his brows.

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(`I don't like Jerry's voice, if it is Jerry,' growled the guard to himself. `He's hoarser than suits me, is Jerry.')

`Ten o'clock, sir.'

<`Enough!' said Defarge, with grim impatience. `Long live the Devil! Go on.'His cold white head mingled with her radiant hair, which warmed and lighted it as though it were the light of Freedom shining on him.

A singular circumstance then arose in the case. The object in hand being to show that the prisoner went down, with some fellow-plotter untracked, in the Dover mail on that Friday night in November five years ago, and got out of the mail in the night, as a blind, at a place where he did not remain, but from which he travelled back some dozen miles or more, to a garrison and dockyard, and there collected information; a witness was called to identify him as having been at the precise time required, in the coffee-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 never seen the prisoner on any other occasion, when the wigged gentleman who had all this time been looking at the ceiling of the court, 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 the prisoner.

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<`Two French gentlemen.'`Hah!' said the Marquis again, in a well-satisfied manner.

`Yes, dearest Charles,' with her hands on his breast, and the inquiring and attentive expression fixed upon him; `we are rather thoughtful to-night, for we have something on our mind to-night.'

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bet9ע˼ʸ߼ָӹٱʾеȫΣϣ 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. ϸ

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