Section 32

"What's that noise?" asked the Doctor, turning toward the window.
"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry. "Don't look out! Manette, for your life, do not touch the window!"
The Doctor turned, with his hand on the window lock, and said, with a cool, confident smile: "My good friend, I have a safe life in this city. Remember that I was a prisoner in the old prison. There is no freedom fighter in Paris... in Paris? No, in France... who, knowing that I was a prisoner before the change of government, would touch me other than covering me with hugs, or carrying me in happiness when we win. The
pain of my past helped me through the gate, and helped me learn of Charles while I was there. It has brought us here as I knew it would. I told Lucie that I would be able to help Charles. But what is that noise?" His hand was again on the window.
"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry, filled with worry. "No, Lucie, my love, not you either!" He put his arm around her and held her. "Do not be afraid, my love. I promise that I know of no one hurting Charles; I didn't even know he was here. What prison is he in?"
"La Force!"
"La Force? Lucie, my child, if you were brave enough to obey in your life... and you always were... you must control yourself now to do just what I tell you. There is more resting on this than I can say or you can think. There is nothing that you can do tonight; you cannot possibly leave this house. I say this, because what I'm asking you to do for Charles is often the hardest thing to do. You must obey me and quietly do nothing. You must let me put you in a room at the back here. You must leave your father here with me for two minutes, and as sure as there is Life and Death in the world, you must act quickly."
"I will do as you ask. I see in your face that you know I can do nothing more now. I trust you."
The old man kissed her and hurried her into his room, and then turned the key in the lock. Coming quickly back to the Doctor, he opened the window and pushed the covering a little to the side. With his hand on the Doctor's arm, they looked out together into the yard.
There was a small crowd of men and women... not enough to fill the yard, no more than forty or fifty. The people who were in control of the house had let them in at the gate, and they had hurried to work at the stone wheel. It had been put there for them, in a quiet place where they could easily come to use it.
But such awful workers, and such awful work!
There were two handles on the big stone wheel, and two men worked at turning it. When their movements brought their heads up, and their long hair was thrown behind them, it could be seen that their faces were wild and cruel, with false hair over their eyes and under their noses to hide who they really were. The blood that was all over them, their need for sleep, and their crazy enthusiasm about what they were doing added to the wild ugly look. As they turned the wheel, first their hair would fall over their faces and then it would fly backward over their necks, with women holding wine to their mouths so that they could drink while working. Drops of blood fell from their bodies, drops of wine fell from the cups, and little pieces of fire came from the knives they were making sharp on the turning wheel. The whole picture was a mixture of evil fire and evil blood. There was not one of them who did not have blood on them. Men without shirts, and with blood on their bodies and on their clothes, shouldered each other to get close to the stone. Some of the men had tied to their clothes little pieces of beautiful cloth that they had taken from women, and these pieces of cloth had blood on them too. The axes, knives, and swords that they were making sharp on the stone were also covered in blood.
Some had broken swords tied to their wrists with pieces of cloth, and these pieces of cloth were also of the same red colour. As each weapon became sharp enough, its owner would turn back to the street with the same red colour in their wild eyes... eyes
which anyone who was not crazy would have given twenty years of their life just to stop with a gun.
All of this one could see in a second, the way a drowning man sees his whole life, or the way that anyone could see the world if they were high enough above it. They pulled back from the window, and the Doctor looked to his friend's white face for answers about what was happening.
"They are," Mr. Lorry whispered as he looked back at Lucie's locked room, "killing their prisoners. If you are sure about what you say; if you really have the power you think you have... and I believe you do... make yourself known to these devils and ask them to take you to La Force. It may be too late, I don't know, but do not wait one minute longer!"
Doctor Manette squeezed his hand, hurried out without even taking a hat, and was already in the yard when Mr. Lorry returned to the window.
His long white hair, his wonderful face, and the confidence of his actions as he pushed the weapons to the side like water, carried him quickly to the heart of the action at the stone. The movement stopped and there was some talking, with the sound of the Doctor's voice above them all. Mr. Lorry could not hear what he was saying, but he saw a line of about twenty men side by side, with their hands on the shoulders of those on each side, join with Doctor Manette as they hurried out into the street shouting, "A prisoner from the old prison here! Help his family in La Force! Make room for the man from the old prison in front there! Save the prisoner Evremonde at La Force!" And a thousand shouts answered them.
He closed the window and the curtain with his heart racing, then hurried to tell Lucie that her father had left to find her husband, with help from the people. Little Lucie and Miss Pross were with her, but he was not surprised about this until much later when things were quieter, and he was watching them.
By that time, Lucie was almost asleep at his feet, still holding his hand. Miss Pross had put the child in Mr. Lorry's bed, and now her head was on the pillow beside her. Oh the long, long night, with the sad breathing of the poor wife! Oh the long, long night, with no return of her father and no news of how he was going!
Two more times the bell at the great gate sounded and the noise and action was repeated as the stone wheel turned and did its work. "What's that?" cried Lucie in fear. "Be quiet! The soldiers make their swords sharp there," said Mr. Lorry. "The place is owned by the people now, and used by the army. Be quiet and rest, my love."
Twice they came, but in the end, the workers became less enthusiastic. Soon after that, the people finished, and the morning started to show in the night sky. Only then did Mr. Lorry softly pull away from the holding hand, and carefully look out the window again. A man, so covered with blood that he could have been a badly hurt soldier fighting for his life in a field of dead bodies, was getting up from the ground beside the stone wheel and looking around with empty eyes. This tired killer soon saw in the weak light one of Sir's coaches, and walking roughly to that beautiful vehicle, he climbed in at the door, and shut himself up so he could take his rest on the expensive pillows inside it.
The great stone wheel of the Earth had turned when Mr. Lorry looked out again, and the sun was red on the yard. But the smaller stone wheel stood alone in the quiet
morning air, with a red on it that the sun had never given to it, and that the sun would never take away.
3. The Shadow
One of the first thoughts that came to Mr. Lorry's mind when it was time for the day's business to start, was this: That he had no right to bring danger on Tellson's by hiding the wife of a runaway prisoner under the bank's roof. He would be happy to put his own life and wealth on the line for Lucie and her child, but the bank was not his, and he always tried to follow the rules of the company that he worked for.
At first, he thought of going to Defarge's wine shop again and asking the owner for help in finding a safe place for Lucie to hide. But the same thought that made him look in that direction also turned him away from it: Defarge lived in the most dangerous part of the city, and he was clearly a leader in the movement that was doing so much of the killing in the city.
By noon, the Doctor had not returned, and every minute Mr. Lorry waited could put Tellson's in more danger, if the freedom fighters learned that Lucie was staying there. So he spoke to her about this. She said that her father had been planning to stay in a place near the bank if they needed to stay in the city for long. Because there was no bank business that he was needed for just then, and because, even if Charles were freed, it would be some few days before they could leave the city, Mr. Lorry went out looking for such a room. He found one in a quiet side street where the covered windows of houses around it showed that they were empty.
He quickly moved Lucie, her child, and Miss Pross into it, giving them what he could to make their stay comfortable... even more comfortable than it was for himself. He left Jerry with them too, as a man who would stand in the doorway and take many hits to the head before he would let anyone through. Then Mr. Lorry returned to his own business. It was with a sad and worried mind that he worked, making his day pass slowly and heavily.
He and the day were both tired by the time he closed the bank for the day. When he was alone again in his room, thinking about what to do next, he heard feet on the steps. A man soon stood in front of him who, taking a very close look at Mr. Lorry, said his name.
"What can I do to help you," asked Mr. Lorry. "Do you know me?"
He was a strong man with dark hair, between forty- five and fifty years of age. His answer was to ask the same question of Mr. Lorry, without any change in the way that Mr. Lorry had asked it:
"Do you know me?"
"I have seen you somewhere."
"Maybe at my wine shop?"
Now Mr. Lorry was both interested and worried. He said, "Have you come from Doctor Manette?"
"Yes, I come from Doctor Manette."
"And what does he say? What has he sent me?"
Defarge put into his shaking hand an open piece of paper. It had the Doctor's writing on it:
"Charles is safe, but I cannot safely leave this place yet. The man carrying this has a short letter from Charles to his wife. Let him see his wife."
It was marked as being from La Force Prison, written less than an hour earlier.
Mr. Lorry was very happy after reading the letter out, and he said, "Will you come with me to where his wife is staying?"
"Yes," returned Defarge.
Mr. Lorry did not think much at this time about the cold machine-like way that Defarge spoke. He just put on his hat and they went down into the yard. There they found two women, one knitting.
"Madam Defarge surely!" said Mr. Lorry, who had left her doing that same action some seventeen years earlier.
"It is she," said her husband.
"Is Madam going with us?" asked Mr. Lorry, seeing that she was moving as they moved.
"Yes, so she will know the faces and the people. It is for security reasons."
Mr. Lorry was starting to see the strange way Defarge was acting now, but he walked on and they followed. Both of the women followed, the second one being The Punisher.
They went through the streets as quickly as they could, then climbed the steps to the house, where Jerry opened the door and they found Lucie alone, crying. She was filled with happiness on learning the news from Mr. Lorry about her husband, and she squeezed the hand that gave her his little letter, not thinking about what that same hand had been doing near him through the night, and what it might have, but for luck, done to him.
The letter said: "My Love, be brave. I am well, and your father has some effect around here. You cannot answer this, but kiss our child for me."
That was all that was written on it, but it was so much good news to her that received it that she turned from Defarge to his wife and kissed one of the hands that knitted. It was a loving, womanly way of thanking her and showing her emotions, but the hand did nothing in return. It dropped cold and heavy, and returned to knitting.
There was something in its touch that made Lucie stop in the act of putting the letter in the top of her dress, and, with her hands at her neck, look at Madam Defarge in fear. Madam Defarge looked back at Lucie's lifted eyebrows and worried forehead with a stony cold look.
"My girl," said Mr. Lorry, trying to fill Lucie in on what was happening, "there has been much fighting in the streets. We don't think it will trouble you, but Madam Defarge wants to see those whom she has the power to protect when the fighting starts, so that she can point them out." Then Mr. Lorry lost confidence in what he was saying as he looked at the hard faces of the three others. "I believe this is the reason, is it not Countryman Defarge?"
Defarge looked darkly at his wife, and gave no answer other than a rough sound of weak agreement.
Doing all he could to bring some peace back to the room by speaking in a relaxed and friendly way, Mr. Lorry said to Lucie, "You should bring in your lovely daughter, and our good Pross. Good Pross, Defarge, is a woman from England who knows no French."
The woman he spoke of, who was confident that she was more than equal to anyone from another country, soon stood before them with her arms folded and said in English to The Punisher, "Well, I am glad to meet you, confident one! I hope you are well!" She also gave a good English cough in the direction of Madam Defarge, but Madam and her husband acted like they did not see her.
"Is that his child?" asked Madam Defarge, stopping her work for the first time and pointing her knitting needle at little Lucie, like it was the finger of death.
"Yes, Madam," answered Mr. Lorry. "This is our poor prisoner's lovely daughter, and his only child."
The shadow that was part of Madam Defarge and the other two seemed to fall so dangerously and darkly on the child, that her mother went on her knees on the ground beside her and held her to her breast. Then the shadow that was part of Madam Defarge and the others seemed to fall on the mother as well as the child.
"It is enough, my husband," said Madam Defarge. "I have seen them. We can go."
The way she said it had enough danger in it... not open and easy to see, but hiding inside of her... to scare Lucie into saying, as she put a begging hand on Madam Defarge's dress:
"You will be good to my poor husband? You will not hurt him? You will help me to see him if I can?"
"Your husband is not the reason for my business here," returned Madam Defarge, looking down at her with perfect confidence. "It is the daughter of your father who is my business here."
"Then be kind to my husband for me. And for my child! She will put her hands together and say a prayer for you to be kind. We are more afraid of you than of these others."
Madam Defarge was happy to hear that, and she looked at her husband to show it. Defarge, who had been worriedly biting the nail of his thumb while watching her, changed his face to a more serious and angry look.
"What was it that your husband said in that little letter?" asked Madam Defarge with an angry smile. "Effect. He said something about effect."
"That my father," said Lucie, quickly taking the paper from her breast, but with a look of fear at her questioner and not on it, "has much effect around here."
"Surely it will free him!" said Madam Defarge. "Let it do so."