A Tale of Two Cities. Чарльз Диккенс

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СКАЧАТЬ friends of the acquitted prisoner had dispersed, under the impression – which he himself had originated – that he would not be released that night. The lights were nearly all extinguished in the passages, the iron gates were being closed with a jar and a rattle, and the dismal place was deserted until to-morrow morning’s interest of gallows, pillory, whipping-post, and branding-iron, should repeople it. Walking between her father and Mr. Darnay, Lucie Manette passed into the open air. A hackney-coach was called, and the father and daughter departed in it.

      Mr. Stryver had left them in the passages, to shoulder his way back to the robing-room. Another person, who had not joined the group, or interchanged a word with any one of them, but who had been leaning against the wall where its shadow was darkest, had silently strolled out after the rest, and had looked on until the coach drove away. He now stepped 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’s proceedings; nobody had known of it. He was unrobed, and was none the better for it in appearance.

      “If you knew what a conflict goes on in the business mind, when the business mind is divided between good-natured impulse and business appearances, 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. We have to think of the House more than ourselves.”

      “I know, I know,” rejoined Mr. Carton, carelessly. “Don’t be nettled, 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’t know what you have to do with the matter. If you’ll excuse me, as very much your elder, for saying so, I really don’t know that it is your business.”

      “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 allowance for that circumstance. Mr. Darnay, good night, God bless you, sir! I hope you have been this day preserved for a prosperous and happy life. – 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, laughed then, and turned to Darnay:

      “This is a strange chance that throws you and me together. This must be a strange night to you, standing alone here with your counterpart on these street stones?”

      “I hardly seem yet,” returned Charles Darnay, “to belong to this world again.”

      “I don’t wonder at it; it’s not so long since you were pretty far advanced 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 those numskulls were deliberating which world you should belong to – this, or some other. Let me show you the nearest tavern to dine well at.”

      Drawing his arm through his own, he took him down Ludgate-hill to Fleet-street, and so, up a covered way, into a tavern. Here, they were shown into a little room, where Charles Darnay was soon recruiting his strength with a good plain dinner and good wine: while Carton sat opposite to him at the same table, with his separate bottle of port before 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 far mended as to feel that.”

      “It must be an immense satisfaction!”

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

      “As to me, the greatest desire I have, is to forget that I belong to it. It has no good in it for me – except wine like this – nor I for it. So we are not much alike in that particular. Indeed, I begin to think we are not much alike in any particular, you and I.”

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

      “Now your dinner is done,” Carton presently said, “why don’t you call a health, 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’ll swear it’s there.”

      “Miss Manette, then!”

      “Miss Manette, then!”

      Looking his companion full in the face while he drank the toast, Carton flung his glass over his shoulder against the wall, where it shivered to pieces; 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 it feel? Is it worth being tried for one’s life, to be the object of such sympathy and compassion, Mr. Darnay?”

      Again Darnay answered not a word.

      “She was mightily pleased to have your message, when I gave it her. Not that she showed she was pleased, but I suppose she was.”

      The allusion served as a timely reminder to Darnay that this disagreeable companion had, of his own free will, assisted him in the strait of the day. He turned the dialogue to that point, and thanked him for 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 did it, 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 have not 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 good opinion of your understanding.”

      “Nevertheless,” СКАЧАТЬ