A Tale of Two Cities Read online

  IV. Congratulatory

  From the dimly-lighted passages of the court, the last sediment of thehuman stew that had been boiling there all day, was straining off, whenDoctor Manette, Lucie Manette, his daughter, Mr. Lorry, the solicitorfor the defence, and its counsel, Mr. Stryver, stood gathered round Mr.Charles Darnay--just released--congratulating him on his escape fromdeath.

  It would have been difficult by a far brighter light, to recognisein Doctor Manette, intellectual of face and upright of bearing, theshoemaker of the garret in Paris. Yet, no one could have looked at himtwice, without looking again: even though the opportunity of observationhad not extended to the mournful cadence of his low grave voice, andto the abstraction that overclouded him fitfully, without any apparentreason. While one external cause, and that a reference to his longlingering agony, would always--as on the trial--evoke this conditionfrom the depths of his soul, it was also in its nature to arise ofitself, and to draw a gloom over him, as incomprehensible to thoseunacquainted with his story as if they had seen the shadow of the actualBastille thrown upon him by a summer sun, when the substance was threehundred miles away.

  Only his daughter had the power of charming this black brooding fromhis mind. She was the golden thread that united him to a Past beyond hismisery, and to a Present beyond his misery: and the sound of her voice,the light of her face, the touch of her hand, had a strong beneficialinfluence with him almost always. Not absolutely always, for she couldrecall some occasions on which her power had failed; but they were fewand slight, and she believed them over.

  Mr. Darnay had kissed her hand fervently and gratefully, and had turnedto Mr. Stryver, whom he warmly thanked. Mr. Stryver, a man of littlemore than thirty, but looking twenty years older than he was, stout,loud, red, bluff, and free from any drawback of delicacy, had a pushingway of shouldering himself (morally and physically) into companies andconversations, that argued well for his shouldering his way up in life.

  He still had his wig and gown on, and he said, squaring himself at hislate client to that degree that he squeezed the innocent Mr. Lorry cleanout of the group: "I am glad to have brought you off with honour, Mr.Darnay. It was an infamous prosecution, grossly infamous; but not theless likely to succeed on that account."

  "You have laid me under an obligation to you for life--in two senses,"said his late client, taking his hand.

  "I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and my best is as good asanother man's, I believe."

  It clearly being incumbent on some one to say, "Much better," Mr. Lorrysaid it; perhaps not quite disinterestedly, but with the interestedobject of squeezing himself back again.

  "You think so?" said Mr. Stryver. "Well! you have been present all day,and you ought to know. You are a man of business, too."

  "And as such," quoth Mr. Lorry, whom the counsel learned in the law hadnow shouldered back into the group, just as he had previously shoulderedhim out of it--"as such I will appeal to Doctor Manette, to break upthis conference and order us all to our homes. Miss Lucie looks ill, Mr.Darnay has had a terrible day, we are worn out."

  "Speak for yourself, Mr. Lorry," said Stryver; "I have a night's work todo yet. Speak for yourself."

  "I speak for myself," answered Mr. Lorry, "and for Mr. Darnay, and forMiss Lucie, and--Miss Lucie, do you not think I may speak for us all?"He asked her the question pointedly, and with a glance at her father.

  His face had become frozen, as it were, in a very curious look atDarnay: an intent look, deepening into a frown of dislike and distrust,not even unmixed with fear. With this strange expression on him histhoughts had wandered away.

  "My father," said Lucie, softly laying her hand on his.

  He slowly shook the shadow off, and turned to her.

  "Shall we go home, my father?"

  With a long breath, he answered "Yes."

  The friends of the acquitted prisoner had dispersed, under theimpression--which he himself had originated--that he would not bereleased that night. The lights were nearly all extinguished in thepassages, the iron gates were being closed with a jar and a rattle,and the dismal place was deserted until to-morrow morning's interest ofgallows, pillory, whipping-post, and branding-iron, should repeople it.Walking between her father and Mr. Darnay, Lucie Manette passed intothe open air. A hackney-coach was called, and the father and daughterdeparted in it.

  Mr. Stryver had left them in the passages, to shoulder his way backto the robing-room. Another person, who had not joined the group, orinterchanged a word with any one of them, but who had been leaningagainst the wall where its shadow was darkest, had silently strolledout after the rest, and had looked on until the coach drove away. He nowstepped up to where Mr. Lorry and Mr. Darnay stood upon the pavement.

  "So, Mr. Lorry! Men of business may speak to Mr. Darnay now?"

  Nobody had made any acknowledgment of Mr. Carton's part in the day'sproceedings; nobody had known of it. He was unrobed, and was none thebetter for it in appearance.

  "If you knew what a conflict goes on in the business mind, when thebusiness mind is divided between good-natured impulse and businessappearances, you would be amused, Mr. Darnay."

  Mr. Lorry reddened, and said, warmly, "You have mentioned that before,sir. We men of business, who serve a House, are not our own masters. Wehave to think of the House more than ourselves."

  "_I_ know, _I_ know," rejoined Mr. Carton, carelessly. "Don't benettled, Mr. Lorry. You are as good as another, I have no doubt: better,I dare say."

  "And indeed, sir," pursued Mr. Lorry, not minding him, "I really don'tknow what you have to do with the matter. If you'll excuse me, as verymuch your elder, for saying so, I really don't know that it is yourbusiness."

  "Business! Bless you, _I_ have no business," said Mr. Carton.

  "It is a pity you have not, sir."

  "I think so, too."

  "If you had," pursued Mr. Lorry, "perhaps you would attend to it."

  "Lord love you, no!--I shouldn't," said Mr. Carton.

  "Well, sir!" cried Mr. Lorry, thoroughly heated by his indifference,"business is a very good thing, and a very respectable thing. And, sir,if business imposes its restraints and its silences and impediments, Mr.Darnay as a young gentleman of generosity knows how to make allowancefor that circumstance. Mr. Darnay, good night, God bless you, sir!I hope you have been this day preserved for a prosperous and happylife.--Chair there!"

  Perhaps a little angry with himself, as well as with the barrister, Mr.Lorry bustled into the chair, and was carried off to Tellson's. Carton,who smelt of port wine, and did not appear to be quite sober, laughedthen, and turned to Darnay:

  "This is a strange chance that throws you and me together. This mustbe a strange night to you, standing alone here with your counterpart onthese street stones?"

  "I hardly seem yet," returned Charles Darnay, "to belong to this worldagain."

  "I don't wonder at it; it's not so long since you were pretty faradvanced on your way to another. You speak faintly."

  "I begin to think I _am_ faint."

  "Then why the devil don't you dine? I dined, myself, while thosenumskulls were deliberating which world you should belong to--this, orsome other. Let me show you the nearest tavern to dine well at."

  Drawing his arm through his own, he took him down Ludgate-hill toFleet-street, and so, up a covered way, into a tavern. Here, they wereshown into a little room, where Charles Darnay was soon recruitinghis strength with a good plain dinner and good wine: while Carton satopposite to him at the same table, with his separate bottle of portbefore him, and his fully half-insolent manner upon him.

  "Do you feel, yet, that you belong to this terrestrial scheme again, Mr.Darnay?"

  "I am frightfully confused regarding time and place; but I am so farmended as to feel that."

  "It must be an immense satisfaction!"

  He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass again: which was a largeone.

  "As to me, the greatest desire I have, is to forget that I belong to it.It has n
o good in it for me--except wine like this--nor I for it. So weare not much alike in that particular. Indeed, I begin to think we arenot much alike in any particular, you and I."

  Confused by the emotion of the day, and feeling his being there withthis Double of coarse deportment, to be like a dream, Charles Darnay wasat a loss how to answer; finally, answered not at all.

  "Now your dinner is done," Carton presently said, "why don't you call ahealth, Mr. Darnay; why don't you give your toast?"

  "What health? What toast?"

  "Why, it's on the tip of your tongue. It ought to be, it must be, I'llswear it's there."

  "Miss Manette, then!"

  "Miss Manette, then!"

  Looking his companion full in the face while he drank the toast, Cartonflung his glass over his shoulder against the wall, where it shivered topieces; then, rang the bell, and ordered in another.

  "That's a fair young lady to hand to a coach in the dark, Mr. Darnay!"he said, filling his new goblet.

  A slight frown and a laconic "Yes," were the answer.

  "That's a fair young lady to be pitied by and wept for by! How does itfeel? Is it worth being tried for one's life, to be the object of suchsympathy and compassion, Mr. Darnay?"

  Again Darnay answered not a word.

  "She was mightily pleased to have your message, when I gave it her. Notthat she showed she was pleased, but I suppose she was."

  The allusion served as a timely reminder to Darnay that thisdisagreeable companion had, of his own free will, assisted him in thestrait of the day. He turned the dialogue to that point, and thanked himfor it.

  "I neither want any thanks, nor merit any," was the careless rejoinder."It was nothing to do, in the first place; and I don't know why I didit, in the second. Mr. Darnay, let me ask you a question."

  "Willingly, and a small return for your good offices."

  "Do you think I particularly like you?"

  "Really, Mr. Carton," returned the other, oddly disconcerted, "I havenot asked myself the question."

  "But ask yourself the question now."

  "You have acted as if you do; but I don't think you do."

  "_I_ don't think I do," said Carton. "I begin to have a very goodopinion of your understanding."

  "Nevertheless," pursued Darnay, rising to ring the bell, "there isnothing in that, I hope, to prevent my calling the reckoning, and ourparting without ill-blood on either side."

  Carton rejoining, "Nothing in life!" Darnay rang. "Do you call the wholereckoning?" said Carton. On his answering in the affirmative, "Thenbring me another pint of this same wine, drawer, and come and wake me atten."

  The bill being paid, Charles Darnay rose and wished him good night.Without returning the wish, Carton rose too, with something of a threatof defiance in his manner, and said, "A last word, Mr. Darnay: you thinkI am drunk?"

  "I think you have been drinking, Mr. Carton."

  "Think? You know I have been drinking."

  "Since I must say so, I know it."

  "Then you shall likewise know why. I am a disappointed drudge, sir. Icare for no man on earth, and no man on earth cares for me."

  "Much to be regretted. You might have used your talents better."

  "May be so, Mr. Darnay; may be not. Don't let your sober face elate you,however; you don't know what it may come to. Good night!"

  When he was left alone, this strange being took up a candle, went to aglass that hung against the wall, and surveyed himself minutely in it.

  "Do you particularly like the man?" he muttered, at his own image; "whyshould you particularly like a man who resembles you? There is nothingin you to like; you know that. Ah, confound you! What a change you havemade in yourself! A good reason for taking to a man, that he shows youwhat you have fallen away from, and what you might have been! Changeplaces with him, and would you have been looked at by those blue eyes ashe was, and commiserated by that agitated face as he was? Come on, andhave it out in plain words! You hate the fellow."

  He resorted to his pint of wine for consolation, drank it all in a fewminutes, and fell asleep on his arms, with his hair straggling over thetable, and a long winding-sheet in the candle dripping down upon him.