not of me, but of the lives that may depend on
both of us!"

This exordium, and Miss Pross's two hands
in quite agonised entreaty clasping his, decided
Mr. Cruncher. With an encouraging nod or
two, he immediately went out to alter the
arrangements, and left her by herself to follow
as she had proposed.

The having originated a precaution which
was already in course of execution, was a
great reliet to Miss Pross. The necessity of
composing her appearance so that it should
attract no special notice in the streets, was
another relief. She looked at her watch,
and it was twenty minutes past two. She
had no time to lose, but must get ready at
once.

Afraid, in her extreme perturbation, of the
loneliness of the deserted rooms, and of half-
imagined faces peeping from behind every open
door in them, Miss Pross got a basin of cold
water and began laving her eyes, which were
swollen and red. Haunted by her feverish
apprehensions, she could not bear to have her
sight obscured for a minute at a time by the
dripping water, but constantly paused and
looked round to see that there was no one
watching her. In one of those pauses she
recoiled and cried out, for she saw a figure standing
in the room.

The basin fell to the ground broken, and the
water flowed to the feet of Madame Defarge. By
strange stern ways, and through much staining
blood, those feet had come to meet that
water.

Madame Defarge looked coldly at her, and
said, "The wife of Evrémonde; where is
she?"

It flashed upon Miss Pross's mind that the
doors were all standing open, and would suggest
the flight. Her first act was to shut them.
There were four in the room, and she shut
them all. She then placed herself before
the door of the chamber which Lucie had
occupied.

Madame Defarge's dark eyes followed her
through this rapid movement, and rested on her
when it was finished. Miss Pross had nothing
beautiful about her; years had not tamed the
wildness, or softened the grimness, of her
appearance; but, she too was a determined
woman in her different way, and she
measured Madame Defarge with her eyes, every
inch.

"You might, from your appearance, be the
wife of Lucifer," said Miss Pross, in her
breathing. "Nevertheless, you shall not,
get the better of me. I am an English-
woman."

Madame Defarge looked at her scornfully,
but still with something of Miss Pross's own
perception that they two were at bay. She saw
a tight, hard, wiry woman before her, as Mr.
Lorry had seen in the same figure a woman with a
strong hand, in the years gone by. She knew full
well that Miss Pross was the family's
devoted friend; Miss Pross knew full well that
Madame Defarge was the family's malevolent
enemy.

"On my way yonder," said Madame Defarge,
with a slight movement of her hand towards
the fatal spot, "where they reserve my chair
and my knitting for me, I am come to make my
compliments to her in passing. I wish to see
her."

"I know that your intentions are evil,"
said Miss Pross, "and you may depend upon
it, I'll hold my own against them."

Each spoke in her own language; neither
understood the other's words; both were .
very watchful, and intent to deduce from
look and manner, what the unintelligible words
meant.

"It will do her no good to keep
herself concealed from me at this moment," said
Madame Defarge. "Good patriots will know
what that means. Let me see her. Go
tell her that I wish to see her. Do you
hear?"

"If those eyes of yours were bed-winches,"
returned Miss Pross, "and I was an English
four-poster, they shouldn't loose a splinter
of me. No, you wicked foreign woman; I am
your match."

Madame Defarge was not likely to follow
these idiomatic remarks in detail; but, she so far
understood them as to perceive that she was set
at naught.

"Woman imbecile and pig-like!" said
Madame Defarge, frowning. "I take no answer from
you! I demand to see her. Either tell her that
I demand to see her, or stand out of the way
of the door and let me go to her!" This,
with an angry explanatory wave of her right
arm.

"I little thought," said Miss Pross, "that I
should ever want to understand your nonsensical
language; but I would give all I have, to the
clothes I wear, to know whether you suspect
the truth, or any part of it."

Neither of them for a single moment released
the other's eyes. Madame Defarge had not
moved from the spot where she stood when Miss
Pross first became aware of her; but, she now
advanced one step.

"I am a Briton," said Miss Pross, "I am
desperate. I don't care an English Twopence
for myself. I know that the longer I keep
you here, the greater hope there is for my
Ladybird. I'll not leave a handful of that dark
hair upon your head, if you lay a finger on
me!"

Thus Miss Pross, with a shake of her head
and a flash of her eyes between every rapid
sentence, and every rapid sentence a whole
breath. Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck
a blow in her life.

But, her courage was of that emotional nature
that it brought the irrepressible tears into her
eyes. This was a courage that Madame Defarge
so little comprehended as to mistake for
weakness. "Ha, ha!" she laughed, "you poor
wretch! What are you worth! I address
myself to that Doctor." Then she raised her