有声名著之双城记
CHAPTER IVCongratulatory
FROM the dimly-lighted passages of the court, the last sediment of the humanstew that had been boiling there all day, was straining off, when DoctorManette, Lucie Manette, his daughter, Mr. Lorry, the solicitor for thedefence, and its counsel, Mr. Stryver, stood gathered round Mr. CharlesDarnay--just released--congratulating him on his escape from death.
It would have been difficult by a far brighter light, to recognise inDoctor Manette, intellectual of face and upright of bearing, the shoemakerof the garret in Paris. Yet, no one could have looked at him twice, withoutliking again: even though the opportunity of observation had not extended tothe mournful cadence of his low grave voice, and to the abstraction thatoverclouded him fitfully, without any apparent reason. While one externalcause, and that a reference to his long lingering agony, would always--as onthe trial--evoke this condition from the depths of his soul, it was also inits nature to arise of itself, and to draw a gloom over him, asincomprehensible to those unacquainted with his story as if they had seenthe shadow of the actual Bastille thrown upon him by a summer sun, when thesubstance was three hundred miles away.
Only his daughter had the power of charming this black brooding from hismind. She was the golden thread that united him to a Past beyond his misery,and to a Present beyond his misery: and the sound of her voice, the light ofher face, the touch of her hand, had a strong beneficial influence with himalmost always. Not absolutely always, for she could recall some occasions onwhich her power had failed; but they were few and slight, and she believedthem over.
Mr. Darnay had kissed her hand fervently and gratefully, and had turned toMr. Stryver, whom he warmly thanked. Mr. Stryver, a man of little more thanthirty, but looking twenty years older than he was, stout, loud, red, bluff,and free from any drawback of delicacy, had a pushing way of shoulderinghimself (morally and physically) into companies and conversations, thatargued well for his shouldering his way up in life.
He still had his wig and gown on, and he said, squaring himself at his lateclient to that degree that he squeezed the innocent Mr. Lorry clean out ofthe group: `I am glad to have brought you off with honour, Mr. Darnay. Itwas an infamous prosecution, grossly infamous; but not the less likely tosucceed on that account.
`You have laid me under an obligation to you for life-in two senses,' saidhis late client, taking his hand.
`I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and my best is as good as anotherman's, I believe.'
It clearly being incumbent on some one to say, `Much better,' Mr. Lorrysaid it; perhaps not quite disinterestedly, but with the interested objectof 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. Larry, whom the counsel learned in the law had nowshouldered back into the group, just as he had previously shouldered him outof it--`as such I will appeal to Doctor Manette, to break up this conferenceand order us all to our homes. Miss Lucie looks ill, Mr. Darnay has had aterrible day, we are worn out.'
`Speak for yourself, Mr. Lorry,' said Stryver; `I have a night's work to doyet. Speak for yourself.'
`I speak for myself,' answered Mr. Lorry, `and for Mr. Darnay, and for MissLucie, and--Miss Lucie, do you not think I may speak for us all?' He askedher the question pointedly, and with a glance at her father.
His face had become frozen, as it were, in a very curious look at Darnay:
an intent look, deepening into a frown of dislike and distrust, not evenunmixed with fear. With this strange expression on him his thoughts hadwandered 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?' #p#副标题#e#With a long breath, he answered `Yes.'
The friends of the acquitted prisoner had dispersed, under the impressionwhich he himself had originated--that he would not be released that night.
The lights were nearly all extinguished in the passages, the iron gates werebeing closed with a jar and a rattle, and the dismal place was deserteduntil to-morrow morning's interest of gallows, pillory, whipping-post, andbranding-iron, should re-people 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 therobing-room. Another person, who had not joined the group, or interchanged aword with any one of them, but who had been leaning against the wall whereits shadow was darkest, had silently strolled out after the rest, and hadlooked on until the coach drove away. He now stepped up to where Mr. Lorryand 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 the betterfor 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. We have tothink 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 knowwhat you have to do with the matter. If you'll excuse me, as very much yourcider, 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 pityyou 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, ifbusiness imposes its restraints and its silences and impediments, Mr. Darnayas a young gentleman of generosity knows how to make allowance for thatcircumstance. Mr. Darnay, good-night, God bless you, sir! I hope you havebeen 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 hustled into the chair, and was carried off to Tellson's. Carton, whosmelt of port wine, and did not appear to be quite sober, laughed then, andturned to Darnay:
`This is a strange chance that throws you and me together. This must be astrange night to you, standing alone here with your counterpart on thesestreet 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 far advancedon 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 numskullswere deliberating which world you should belong to--this, or some other. Letme 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 intoa little room, where Charles Darnay was soon recruiting his strength with agood plain dinner and good wine: while Carton sat opposite to him at thesame 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 farmended 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. Ithas no good in it for me--except wine like this--nor I for it. So we are notmuch alike in that particular. Indeed, I begin to think we are not muchalike in any particular, you and I.'
Confused by the emotion of the day, and feeling his being there with thisDouble of coarse deportment, to be like a dream, Charles Darnay was at aloss 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?' #p#副标题#e#`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!' hesaid, 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 this disagreeablecompanion 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. `Itwas nothing to do, in the first place; and I don't know why I did it, in thesecond. 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 notasked myself the question.'
`But ask yourself the question now.'
`You have acted as if you do; but I don't think you do.'
`1 don't think I do,' said Carton. `I begin to have a very good opinion ofyour understanding.'
`Nevertheless,' pursued Darnay, rising to ring the bell, `there is nothingin that, I hope, to prevent my calling the reckoning, and our partingwithout 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, `Then bring meanother pint of this same wine, drawer, and come and wake me at ten.'
The bill being paid, Charles Darnay rose and wished him good-night. Withoutreturning the wish, Carton rose too, with something of a threat of defiancein his manner, and said, `A last word, Mr. Darnay: you think I 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. I carefor 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 nothing inyou to like; you know that. Ah, confound you! What a change you have made inyourself! A good reason for taking to a man, that he shows you what you havefallen away from, and what you might have been! Change places with him, andwould you have been looked at by those blue eyes as he was, and commiseratedby that agitated face as he was? Come on, and have 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. |