As　if　his　memory　were　impaired；　or　his　faculties　disordered；　the　prisoner　made　an　effort　to　rally　his　attention。　As　he　looked　at　Carton　with　clouded　eyes　and　with　an　altered　manner　of　breathing；　Cartonhis　hand　again　in　his　breastlooked　steadily　at　him。
  ‘Hurry；　hurry　！‘
  The　prisoner　bent　over　the　paper；　once　more。
  ‘‘‘If　it　had　been　otherwise；'''　Carton's　hand　was　again　watchfully　and　softly　stealing　down；　‘‘‘I　never　should　have　used　the　longer　opportunity。　If　it　had　been　otherwise；'''　the　hand　was　at　the　prisoner's　face；　‘‘‘I　should　but　have　had　so　much　the　more　to　answer　for。　If　it　had　been　otherwise…'''　Carton　looked　at　the　pen　and　saw　it　was　trailing　off　into　unintelligible　signs。
  Carton's　hand　moved　back　to　his　breast　no　more。　The　prisoner　sprang　up　with　a　reproachful　look；　but　Carton's　hand　was　close　and　firm　at　his　nostrils；　and　Carton's　left　arm　caught　him　round　the　waist。　For　a　few　seconds　he　faintly　struggled　with　the　man　who　had　come　to　lay　down　his　life　for　him；　but；　within　a　minute　or　so；　he　was　stretched　insensible　on　the　ground。
  Quickly；　but　with　hands　as　true　to　the　purpose　as　his　heart　was；　Carton　dressed　himself　in　the　clothes　the　prisoner　had　laid　aside；　combed　back　his　hair；　and　tied　it　with　the　ribbon　the　prisoner　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　knee　beside　the　insensible　figure；　putting　the　paper　in　the　breast：　‘is　your　hazard　very　great？'
  ‘Mr。　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　true　to　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；　get　assistance　and　take　me　to　the　coach。'
  ‘You？'　said　the　Spy　nervously。
  ‘Him；　man；　with　whom　I　have　exchanged。　You　go　out　at　the　gate　by　which　you　brought　me　in？
  ‘Of　course。'
  ‘I　was　weak　and　faint　when　you　brought　me　in；　and　I　am　fainter　now　you　take　me　out。　The　parting　interview　has　overpowered　me。　Such　a　thing　has　happened　here；　often；　and　too　often。　Your　life　is　in　your　own　hands。　Quick！　Call　assistance！'
  ‘You　swear　not　to　betray　me？'　said　the　trembling　Spy；　as　he　paused　for　a　last　moment。
  ‘Man；　man！'　returned　Carton；　stamping　his　foot；　‘have　I　sworn　by　no　solemn　vow　already；　to　go　through　with　this；　that　you　waste　the　precious　moments　now？　Take　him　yourself　to　the　court…yard　you　know　of；　place　him　yourself　in　the　carriage；　show　him　yourself　to　Mr。　Lorry；　tell　him　yourself　to　give　him　no　restorative　but　air；　and　to　remember　my　words　of　last　night；　and　his　promise　of　last　night；　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　lottery　of　Sainte　Guillotine？'
  ‘A　good　patriot；'　said　the　other；　‘could　hardly　have　been　more　afflicted　if　the　Aristocrat　had　drawn　a　blank。'
  They　raised　the　unconscious　figure；　placed　it　on　a　litter　they　had　brought　to　the　door；　and　bent　to　carry　it　away。　‘The　time　is　short；　Evrémonde；'　said　the　Spy；　in　a　warning　Voice。
  ‘I　know　it　well；'　answered　Carton。　‘Be　careful　of　my　friend；　I　entreat　you；　and　leave　me。
  ‘Come；　then；　my　children；'　said　Barsad。　‘Lift　him；　and　come　away！'
  The　door　closed；　and　Carton　was　left　alone。　Straining　his　powers　of　listening　to　the　utmost；　he　listened　for　any　sound　that　might　denote　suspicion　or　alarm。　There　was　none。　Keys　turned；　doors　clashed；　footsteps　passed　along　distant　passages：　no　cry　was　raised；　or　hurry　made；　that　seemed　unusual。　Breathing　more　freely　in　a　little　while；　he　sat　down　at　the　table；　and　listened　again　until　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　in　succession；　and　finally　his　own。　A　gaoler；　with　a　list　in　his　hand；　looked　in；　merely　saying；　‘Follow　me；　Evrémonde！'　and　he　followed　into　a　large　dark　room；　at　a　distance。　It　was　a　dark　winter　day；　and　what　with　the　shadows　within；　and　what　with　the　shadows　without；　he　could　but　dimly　discern　the　others　who　were　brought　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；　looking　fixedly　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；　to　embrace　him；　as　having　a　knowledge　of　him。　It　thrilled　him　with　a　great　dread　of　discovery；　but　the　man　went　on。　A　very　few　moments　after　that；　a　young　woman；　with　a　slight　girlish　form；　a　sweet　spare　face　in　which　there　was　no　vestige　of　colour；　and　large　widely　opened　patient　eyes；　rose　from　the　seat　where　he　had　observed　her　sitting；　and　came　to　speak　to　him。
  ‘Citizen　Evrémonde；'　she　said；　touching　him　with　her　cold　hand。　‘I　am　a　poor　little　seamstress；　who　was　with　you　in　La　Force。
  He　murmured　for　answer：　‘True。　I　forget　what　you　were　accused　of？'
  ‘Plots。　Though　the　just　Heaven　knows　I　am　innocent　of　any。　Is　it　likely？　Who　would　think　of　plotting　with　a　poor　little　weak　creature　like　me？'
  The　forlorn　smile　with　which　she　said　it；　so　touched　him；　that　tears　started　from　his　eyes。
  ‘I　am　not　afraid　to　die；　Citizen　Evrémonde；　but　I　have　done　nothing。　I　am　not　unwilling　to　die；　if　the　Republic　which　is　to　do　so　much　good　to　us　poor；　will　profit　by　my　death；　but　I　do　not　know　how　that　can　be；　Citizen　Evreémonde。　Such　a　poor　weak　little　creature！'
  As　the　last　thing　on　earth　that　his　heart　was　to　warm　and　soften　to；　it　warmed　and　softened　to　this　pitiable　girl。
  ‘I　heard　you　were　released；　Citizen　‘Evrémonde。　I　hoped　it　was　true？'
  ‘It　was。　But；　I　was　again　taken　and　condemned。'
  ‘If　I　may　ride　with　you；　Citizen　Evrémonde；　will　you　let　me　hold　your　hand？　I　am　not　afraid；　hut　I　am　little　and　weak；　and　it　will　give　me　more　courage。'
  As　the　patient　eyes　were　lifted　to　his　face；　he　saw　a　sudden　doubt　in　them；　and　then　astonishment。　He　pressed　the　work…worn；　hunger…worn　young　fingers；　and　touched　his　lips。
  ‘Are　you　dying　for　him？'　she　whispered。
  ‘And　his　wife　and　child。　Hush！　Yes。'
  ‘O　you　will　let　me　hold　your　brave　hand；　stranger？'
  ‘Hush！　Yes；　my　poor　sister；　to　the　last。
  The　same　shadows　that　are　falling　on　the　prison；　are　falling；　in　that　same　hour　of　the　early　afternoon；　on　the　Barrier　with　the　crowd　about　it；　when　a　coach　going　out　of　Paris　drives　up　to　be　examined。
  ‘Who　goes　here？　Whom　have　we　within？　Papers！'
  The　papers　are　handed　out；　and　read。
  ‘Alexandre　Manette。　Physician。　French。　Which　is　he？'
  This　is　he；　this　helpless；　inarticulately　murmuring；　wandering　old　man　pointed　out。
  ‘Apparently　the　Citizen…Doctor　is　not　in　his　right　mind？　The　Revolution…fever　will　have　been　too　much　for　him？'
  Greatly　too　much　for　him。
  ‘Hah！　Many　suffer　with　it。　Lucie。　His　daughter。　French。　Which　is　she？'
  This　is　she。
  ‘Apparently　it　must　be。　Lucie；　the　wife　of　Evrémonde；　is　it　not'。〃
  It　is。
  ‘Hah！　Evrémonde　has　an　assignation　elsewhere。　Lucie；　her　child。　English。　This　is　she？'
  She　and　no　other。
  ‘Kiss　me；　child　of　Evrémonde。　Now；　thou　hast　kissed　a　good　Republican；　something　new　in　thy　family；　remember　it！　Sydney　Carton。　Advocate。　English。　Which　is　he？'
  He　lies　here；　in　this　corner　of　the　carriage。　He；　too；　is　pointed　out。
  ‘Apparently　the　English　advocate　is　in　a　swoon？'
  It　is　hoped　he　will　recover　in　the　fresher　air。　It　is　represented　that　he　is　not　in　strong　health；　and　has　separated　sadly　from　a　friend　who　is　under　the　displeasure　of　the　Republic。
  ‘Is　that　all？　It　is　not　a　great　deal；　that！　Many　are　under　the　displeasure　of　the　Republic；　and　must　look　out　at　the　little　window。　Jarvis　Lorry。　Banker。　English。　Which　is　he？'
  ‘I　am　he。　Necessarily；　being　the　last。'
  It　is　Jarvis　Lorry　who　has　replied　to　all　the　previous　questions。　It　is　Jarvis　Lorry　who　has　alighted　and　stands　with　his　hand　on　the　coach　door；　replying　to　a　group　of　officials。　They　leisurely　walk　round　the　carriage　and　leisurely　mount　the　box；　to　look　at　what　little　luggage　it　carries　on　the　roof；　the　country…people　hanging　about；　press　nearer　to　the　coach　doors　and　greedily　stare　in；　a　little　child；　carried　by　its　mother；　has　its　short　arm　held　out　for　it；　that　it　may　touch　the　wife　of　an　aristocrat　who　has　gone　to　the　Guillotine。
  ‘Behold　your　papers；　Jarvis　Lorry；　countersigned。'
  ‘One　can　depart；　citizen？'
  ‘One　can　depart。　Forward；　my　postilions！　A　good　journey！'
  ‘I　salute　you；　citizens。And　the　first　danger　passed！'
  These　are　again　the　words　of　Jarvis　Lorry；　as　he　clasps　his　hands；　and　looks　upward。　There　is　terror　in　the　carriage；　there　is　weeping；　there　is　the　heavy　breathing　of　the　insensible　traveller。
  ‘Are　we　not　going　too　slowly？　Can　they　not　be　induced　to　go　faster？'　asks　Lucie；　clinging　to　the