A Tale of Two Cities

Darkness


Sydney Carton paused in the street, not quite decided where to go.
"At Tellson's banking-house at nine," he said, with a musing face.
"Shall I do well, in the mean time, to show myself?  I think so.
It is best that these people should know there is such a man as I
here; it is a sound precaution, and may be a necessary preparation.
But care, care, care!  Let me think it out!"

Checking his steps which had begun to tend towards an object, he took
a turn or two in the already darkening street, and traced the thought
in his mind to its possible consequences.  His first impression was
confirmed.  "It is best," he said, finally resolved, "that these
people should know there is such a man as I here."  And he turned his
face towards Saint Antoine.

Defarge had described himself, that day, as the keeper of a wine-shop
in the Saint Antoine suburb.  It was not difficult for one who knew
the city well, to find his house without asking any question.  Having
ascertained its situation, Carton came out of those closer streets
again, and dined at a place of refreshment and fell sound asleep
after dinner.  For the first time in many years, he had no strong drink.
Since last night he had taken nothing but a little light thin wine,
and last night he had dropped the brandy slowly down on Mr. Lorry's
hearth like a man who had done with it.

It was as late as seven o'clock when he awoke refreshed, and went out
into the streets again.  As he passed along towards Saint Antoine, he
stopped at a shop-window where there was a mirror, and slightly
altered the disordered arrangement of his loose cravat, and his coat-
collar, and his wild hair.  This done, he went on direct to Defarge's,
and went in.

There happened to be no customer in the shop but Jacques Three,
of the restless fingers and the croaking voice.  This man, whom he
had seen upon the Jury, stood drinking at the little counter, in
conversation with the Defarges, man and wife.  The Vengeance assisted
in the conversation, like a regular member of the establishment.

As Carton walked in, took his seat and asked (in very indifferent
French) for a small measure of wine, Madame Defarge cast a careless
glance at him, and then a keener, and then a keener, and then
advanced to him herself, and asked him what it was he had ordered.

He repeated what he had already said.

"English?" asked Madame Defarge, inquisitively raising her dark eyebrows.

After looking at her, as if the sound of even a single French word
were slow to express itself to him, he answered, in his former strong
foreign accent.  "Yes, madame, yes.  I am English!"

Madame Defarge returned to her counter to get the wine, and, as he
took up a Jacobin journal and feigned to pore over it puzzling out
its meaning, he heard her say, "I swear to you, like Evremonde!"

Defarge brought him the wine, and gave him Good Evening.

"How?"

"Good evening."

"Oh!  Good evening, citizen," filling his glass.  "Ah! and good wine.
I drink to the Republic."

Defarge went back to the counter, and said, "Certainly, a little
like."  Madame sternly retorted, "I tell you a good deal like."
Jacques Three pacifically remarked, "He is so much in your mind,
see you, madame."  The amiable Vengeance added, with a laugh, "Yes,
my faith!  And you are looking forward with so much pleasure to seeing
him once more to-morrow!"

Carton followed the lines and words of his paper, with a slow
forefinger, and with a studious and absorbed face.  They were all
leaning their arms on the counter close together, speaking low.
After a silence of a few moments, during which they all looked
towards him without disturbing his outward attention from the Jacobin
editor, they resumed their conversation.

"It is true what madame says," observed Jacques Three.  "Why stop?
There is great force in that.  Why stop?"

"Well, well," reasoned Defarge, "but one must stop somewhere.
After all, the question is still where?"

"At extermination," said madame.

"Magnificent!" croaked Jacques Three.  The Vengeance, also, highly
approved.

"Extermination is good doctrine, my wife," said Defarge, rather
troubled; "in general, I say nothing against it.  But this Doctor has
suffered much; you have seen him to-day; you have observed his face
when the paper was read."

"I have observed his face!" repeated madame, contemptuously and
angrily.  "Yes.  I have observed his face.  I have observed his face
to be not the face of a true friend of the Republic.  Let him take
care of his face!"