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the way of Subjects without heads, dear me,
plentiful enough fur to bring the price down to
porterage and hardly that, without havin' his
serious thoughts of things. And these here
would be mine, if it wos so, entreatin' of you
fur to bear in mind that wot I said just now,
I up and said in the good cause when I might
have kep' it back."

"That at least is true," said Mr. Lorry.
"Say no more now. It may be that I shall
yet stand your friend, if you deserve it, and
repent in actionnot in words. I want no more

Mr. Cruncher knuckled his forehead, as
Sydney Carton and the spy returned from the
dark room. "Adieu, Mr. Barsad!" said the
former; "our arrangement thus made, you have
nothing to fear from me."

He sat down in a chair on the hearth, over
against Mr. Lorry. When they were alone, Mr.
Lorry asked him what he had done?

"Not much. If it should go ill with the
prisoner, I have ensured access to him, once."

Mr. Lorry's countenance fell.

"It is all I could do," said Carton. "To
propose too much, would be to put this man's
head under the axe, and, as he himself said,
nothing worse could happen to him if he were
denounced. It was obviously the weakness of
the position. There is no help for it."

"But access to him," said Mr. Lorry, "if it
should go ill before the tribunal, will not save

"I never said it would."

Mr. Lorry's eyes gradually sought the fire;
his sympathy with his darling, and the heavy
disappointment of this second arrest, gradually
weakened them; he was an old man now,
overborne with anxiety of late, and his tears fell.

"You are a good man and a true friend,"
said Carton, in an altered voice. "Forgive me
if I notice that you are affected. I could not see
my father weep, and sit by, careless. And I could
not respect your sorrow more, if you were my
father. You are free from that misfortune, however."

Though he said the last words, with a slip into
his usual manner, there was a true feeling and
respect both in his tone and in his touch, that
Mr. Lorry, who had never seen the better side
of him, was wholly unprepared for. He gave
him his hand, and Carton gently pressed it.

"To return to poor Darnay," said Carton.
"Don't tell Her of this interview, or this
arrangement. It would not enable Her to go to
see him. She might think it was contrived, in
case of the worst, to convey to him the means of
anticipating the sentence."

Mr. Lorry had not thought of that, and he
looked quickly at Carton to see if it were in his
mind. It seemed to be; he returned the look,
and evidently understood it.

"She might think a thousand things," he
said, "and any of them would only add to her
trouble, Don't speak of me to her. As I said
to you when I first came, I had better not see
her. I can put my hand out to do any little
helpful work for her that my hand can find to
do, without that. You are going to her, I hope?
She must be very desolate to-night."

"I am going now, directly."

"I am glad of that. She has such a strong
attachment to you and reliance on you. How
does she look?"

"Anxious and unhappy, but very beautiful."


It was a long, grieving sound, like a sigh
almost like a sob. It attracted Mr. Lorry's
eyes to Carton's face, which was turned to the
fire. A light, or a shade (the old gentleman could
not have said which), passed from it as swiftly
as a change will sweep over a hill-side on a wild
bright day, and he lifted his foot to put back
one of the little flaming logs, which was tumbling
forward. He wore the white riding-coat and
top-boots, then in vogue, and the light of the fire
touching their light surfaces made him look
very pale, with his long brown hair, all
untrimmed, hanging loose about him. His
indifference to fire was sufficiently remarkable to
elicit a word of remonstrance from Mr. Lorry;
his boot was still upon the hot embers of the
flaming log, when it had broken under the
weight of his foot.

"I forgot it," he said.

Mr. Lorry's eyes were again attracted to his
face. Taking note of the wasted air which
clouded the naturally handsome features, and
having the expression of prisoners' faces fresh
in his mind, he was strongly reminded of that

"And your duties here have drawn to an end,
sir?" said Carton, turning to him.

"Yes. As I was telling you last night when
Lucie came in so unexpectedly, I have at length
done all that I can do here. I hoped to have
left them in perfect safety, and then to have
quitted Paris. I have my Leave to Pass. I
was ready to go."

They were both silent.

"Yours is a long life to look back upon, sir?"
said Carton, wistfully.

"I am in my seventy-eighth year."

"You have been useful all your life; steadily
and constantly occupied; trusted, respected,
and looked up to?"

"I have been a man of business, ever since
I have been a man. Indeed, I may say that I
was a man of business when a boy."

"See what a place you fill at seventy-eight.
How many people will miss you when you leave
it empty!"

"A solitary old bachelor," answered Mr. Lorry,
shaking his head. "There is nobody to weep
for me."

"How can you say that? Wouldn't She
weep for you? Wouldn't her child?"

"Yes, yes, thank God. I didn't quite mean
what I said."

"It is a thing to thank God for; is it not?"

"Surely, surely."

"If you could say, with truth, to your own
solitary heart, to-night, 'I have secured to
myself the love and attachment, the gratitude

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