`I HAVE saved him.' It was not another of the dreams in which he had often come back; he was really here. And yet his wife trembled, and a vague but heavy fear was upon her.
All the air around was so thick and dark, the people were so passionately1 revengeful and fitful, the innocent were so constantly put to death on vague suspicion and black malice2, it was so impossible to forget that many as blameless as her husband and as dear to others as he was to her, every day shared the fate from which he had been clutched, that her heart could not be as lightened of its load as she felt it ought to be. The shadows of the wintry afternoon were beginning to fall, and even now the dreadful carts were rolling through the streets. Her mind pursued them, looking for him among the Condemned3; and then she clung closer to his real presence and trembled more.
Her father, cheering her, showed a compassionate4 superiority to this woman's weakness, which was wonderful to see. No garret, no shoemaking, no One Hundred and Five, North Tower, now! He had accomplished5 the task he had set himself, his promise was redeemed6, he had saved Charles. Let them all lean upon him.
Their housekeeping was of a very frugal7 kind: not only because that was the safest way of life, involving the least offence to the people, but because they were not rich, and Charles, throughout his imprisonment8, had had to pay heavily for his bad food, and for his guard, and towards the living of the poorer prisoners. Partly on this account, and partly to avoid a domestic spy, they kept no servant; the citizen and citizeness who acted as porters at the court-yard gate, rendered them occasional service; and Jerry (almost wholly transferred to them by Mr. Lorry) had become their daily retainer, and had his bed there every night.
It was an ordinance9 of the Republic One and Indivisible of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, that on the door or doorpost of every house, the name of every inmate10 must be legibly inscribed11 in letters of a certain size, at a certain convenient height from the ground. Mr. Jerry Cruncher's name, therefore, duly embellished12 the doorpost down below; and, as the afternoon shadows deepened, the owner of that name himself appeared, from overlooking a painter whom Doctor Manette had employed to add to the list the name of Charles Evrémonde, called Darnay.
In the universal fear and distrust that darkened the time, all the usual harmless ways of life were changed. In the Doctor's little household, as in very many others, the articles of daily consumption that were wanted were purchased every evening, in small quantities and at various small shops. To avoid attracting notice, and to give as little occasion as possible for talk and envy, was the general desire.
For some months past, Miss Pross and Mr. Cruncher had discharged the office of purveyors; the former carrying the money; the latter, tile basket. Every afternoon at about the time when the public lamps were lighted, they fared forth14 on this duty, and made and brought home such purchases as were needful. Although Miss Pross, through her long association with a French family, might have known as much of their language as of her own, if she had had a mind, she had no mind in that direction; consequently she knew no more of that `nonsense' (as she was pleased to call it) than Mr. Cruncher did. So her manner of marketing15 was to plump a noun-substantive at the head of a shopkeeper without any introduction in the nature of an article, and, if it happened not to be the name of the thing she wanted, to look round for that thing, lay hold of it, and hold on by it until the bargain was concluded. She always made a bargain for it, by holding up, as a statement of its just price, one finger less than the merchant held up, whatever his number might be.
`Now, Mr. Cruncher,' said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with felicity; `if you are ready, I am.'
Jerry hoarsely16 professed17 himself at Miss Pross's service. He had worn all his rust13 off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky18 head down.
`There's all manner of things wanted,' said Miss Pross, `and we shall have a precious time of it. We want wine, among the rest. Nice toasts these Redheads will be drinking, wherever we buy it.'
`It will be much the same to your knowledge, miss, I should think,' retorted Jerry, `whether they drink your health or the Old Un's.
`Who's he?' said Miss Pross.
Mr. Cruncher, with some diffidence, explained himself as meaning `Old Nick's.'
`Ha!' said Miss Pross, `it doesn't need an interpreter to explain the meaning of these creatures. They have but one, and it's Midnight Murder, and Mischief'
`Hush, dear! Pray, pray, be cautious!' cried Lucie.
`Yes, yes, yes, I'll be cautious,' said Miss Pross; `but I may say among ourselves, that I do hope there will be no oniony and tobaccoey smotherings in the form of embracings all round, going on in the streets. Now, Ladybird, never you stir from that fire till I come back! Take care of the dear husband you have recovered, and don't move your pretty head from his shoulder as you have it now, till you see me again! May I ask a question, Doctor Manette, before I go?'
`I think you may take that liberty,' the Doctor answered, smiling.
`For gracious sake, don't talk about Liberty; we have quite enough of that,' said Miss Pross.
`Hush, dear! Again?' Lucie remonstrated19.
`Well, my sweet,' said Miss Pross, nodding her head emphatically, `the short and the long of it is, that I am a subject of His Most Gracious Majesty20 King George the Third;' Miss Pross curtseyed at the name; `and as such, my maxim21 is, Confound their politics, Frustrate22 their knavish23 tricks, On him our hopes we fix, God save the King!'
Mr. Cruncher, in an access of loyalty24, growlingly25 repeated the words after Miss Pross, like somebody at church.
`I am glad you have so much of the Englishman in you, though I wish you had never taken that cold in your voice,' said Miss Pross, approvingly. `But the question, Doctor Manette. Is there'--it was the good creature's way to affect to make light of anything that was a great anxiety with them all, and to come at it in this chance manner--'is there any prospect26 yet, of our getting out of this place?'
`I fear not yet. It would be dangerous for Charles yet.'
`Heigh-ho-hum!' said Miss Pross, cheerfully repressing a sigh as she glanced at her darling's golden hair in the light of the fire, `then we must have patience and wait: that's all. We must hold up our heads and fight low, as my brother Solomon used to say. Now, Mr. Cruncher!--Don't you move, Ladybird!'
They went out, leaving Lucie, and her husband, her father, and the child, by a bright fire. Mr. Lorry was expected back presently from the Banking27 House. Miss Pross had lighted the lamp, but had put it aside in a corner, that they might enjoy the fire-light undisturbed. Little Lucie sat by her grandfather with her hands clasped through his arm: and he, in a tone not rising much above a whisper, began to tell her a story of a great and powerful Fairy who had opened a prison-wall and let out a captive who had once done the Fairy a service. All was subdued28 and quiet, and Lucie was more at ease than she had been.
`What is that?' she cried, all at once.
`My dear!' said her father, stopping in his story, and laying his hand on hers, `command yourself. What a disordered state you are in! The least thing--nothing--startles you! You, your father's daughter!'
`I thought, my father,' said Lucie, excusing herself, with a pale face and in a faltering29 voice, `that I heard strange feet upon the stairs.'
`My love, the staircase is as still as Death.' As he said the word, a blow was struck upon the door.
`Oh father, father. What can this be! Hide Charles. Save him!'
`My child,' said the Doctor, rising, and laying his hand upon her shoulder, `I have saved him. What weakness is this, my dear! Let me go to the door.'
He took the lamp in his hand, crossed the two intervening outer rooms, and opened it. A rude clattering30 of feet over the floor, and four rough men in red caps, armed with sabres and pistols, entered the room.
`The Citizen Evrémonde, called Darnay,' said the first. `Who seeks him?' answered Darnay.
`I seek him. We seek him. I know you, Evrémonde; I saw you before the Tribunal to-day. You are again the prisoner of the Republic.'
The four surrounded him, where he stood with his wife and child clinging to him.
`Tell me how and why am I again a prisoner?'
`It is enough that you return straight to the Conciergerie, and will know to-morrow. You are summoned for to-morrow.'
Dr. Manette, whom this visitation had so turned into stone, that he stood with the lamp in his hand, as if he were a statue made to hold it, moved after these words were spoken, put the lamp down, and confronting the speaker, and taking him, not ungently, by the loose front of his red woollen shirt, said:
`You know him, you have said. Do you know me?'
`Yes, I know you, Citizen Doctor.'
`We all know you, Citizen Doctor,' said the other three.
He looked abstractedly from one to another, and said, in a lower voice, after a pause:
`Will you answer his question to me then? How does this happen?'
`Citizen Doctor,' said the first, reluctantly, `he has been denounced to the Section of Saint Antoine. This citizen,' pointing out the second who had entered, `is from Saint Antoine.'
The citizen here indicated nodded his head, and added: `He is accused by Saint Antoine.'
`Of what?' asked the Doctor.
`Citizen Doctor,' said the first, with his former reluctance31, `ask no more. If the Republic demands sacrifices from you, without doubt you as a good patriot32 will be happy to make them. The Republic goes before all. The People is supreme33. Evrémonde, we are pressed.'
`One word,' the Doctor entreated34. `Will you tell me who denounced him?'
`It is against rule,' answered the first; `but you can ask Him of Saint Antoine here.'
The Doctor turned his eyes upon that man. Who moved uneasily on his feet, rubbed his beard a little, and at length said:
`Well! Truly it is against rule. But he is denounced-and gravely-by the Citizen and Citizeness Defarge. And by one other.
`What other?'
`Do you ask, Citizen Doctor?'
`Yes.'
`Then,' said he of Saint Antoine, with a strange look, `you will be answered to-morrow. Now, I am dumb!'
“我已经把他救出来了。”这不是他常常从其中惊醒过来的梦，他确确实实在家里。可是他的妻子还在发抖，还为一种沉重的莫名的恐惧笼罩着。
周围的空气粘稠黑暗，人们狂热冲动，急于报复，无辜的人不断因为莫须有的怀疑和恶意的中伤而丧命。无法忘记的是，每天都有许多跟她的丈夫同样无辜、同样受到疼爱的人遭到了不幸，而她的丈夫只是侥幸地逃脱了。因此她虽然觉得应当轻松，却总无法轻松下来。冬日的下午，夜的阴影已逐渐降落，却仍有疹人的死囚车在街上隆隆走过。她的心不知不觉地随之而去，在被判死刑的人堆里寻觅着他，于是她把他现实的身子搂得更紧，颤抖得也更厉害了。
为了让她快活，她的父亲对她这种女性的弱点表现了一种带优越感的同情，那表现十分有趣。现在再也没有阁楼、皮鞋活、北塔一Ｏ五了！他完成了他为自己确定的任务，实践了诺言，救出了查尔斯。让他们都来依靠他吧！
他们过着极其俭朴的生活，不但是因为那种生活方式最安全、最不至于被人看不惯，而且也因为他们并不富裕。查尔斯坐牢的整个过程中都得付看守费，用高价买低劣的食物，还要支援更穷的难友。由于上述原因，也由于不愿家里有个间谍，他们没有雇佣人。在大门口充当门房的一男一女两个公民有时给他们帮帮忙。杰瑞成了他们家的日常听差，每天晚上都在那儿睡觉——罗瑞先生已把他全部拨给他们使用了。
统一不可分割的自由平等博爱或死亡的共和国有一条规定：每家门上或门柱上都需用足够大的字母清楚书写该户每个居民的姓名，书写高度要便于看见。因此克朗彻先生的名字也就在楼下的门柱上放着光彩。那天下午暮色渐浓时有着那个名字的人出现了。他刚监督着由曼内特医生请来的一个油漆工在名单上加上了“查尔斯.埃佛瑞蒙德，又名达尔内”的字祥。
在笼罩着那个时代的普遍的恐怖和猜疑的阴影之下，日常的无害的生活方式改变了。跟许多家庭一样，医生小家庭的日用消费品是在晚上到各个小商店少量购买的。人们都不希望惹人注意，尽量避免造成闲言闲语，或使人眼红。
好几个月来普洛丝小姐和克朗彻先生都执行着采购任务。前者带着钱，后者提着篮子，每天下午大体在路灯点亮时出发去购买家庭必需品。跟一个法国家庭相处了多年的普洛丝小姐若是个有心人，原是可以把他们的话学得跟自己的话一样好的，可是她并无这种打算。因此，她说那种“瞎扯话”（她喜欢这样叫法国话）的水平也就跟克朗彻先生差不多了。于是，她买东西的办法是：把一个名词囫囵地扔到店老板头上，不作解释，若是没说对，她就东看看西看看，把东西找到，抓在乎里不放，直到生意做成。不论那东西是什么价，她伸出的指头总比商人少一个，认为那就是公道的价，总能得到点便宜。
“现在，克朗彻先生，”普洛丝小姐欢喜得眼晴都亮了，“你要是准备好了，我也准备好了。”
杰瑞嘶声嘶气地表示愿为普洛丝小姐效劳。他身上的铁锈很久以前就掉光了，一头铁蒺藜却依然如故。
“要买的东西各种各样，”普洛丝小姐说，“时间很宝贵。还要买酒。不管到哪儿买酒，都看到这些红脑袋在欢欢喜喜地祝酒呢！”
“他们是在为你的健康祝酒，还是为老坏蛋的健康祝酒，我看你也说不清楚。”杰瑞回答。
“老坏蛋是谁？”普洛丝小姐说。
克朗彻先生觉得有点扫兴，解释说他指的是“老撒旦”。
“哈！”普洛丝小姐说，“他们的意思不用翻译我也懂，他们只有一句话，整人、害人、半夜杀人。”
“小声点儿，亲爱的，求你，求你，小心点儿！”露西叫道。
“对对对，我小心，”普洛丝小姐说，“可是在咱们之间我可以说，我真希望在街上再也不会到处都碰见洋葱味和烟草味的拥抱，抱得我都快要断气了。小鸟儿，你可千万别离开壁炉，等我回来！照顾好你刚救回来的亲爱的丈夫吧！你那脑袋就像现在一样靠在他肩膀上别动，直到你又见到我的时候！在我走之前，我能问个问题么，曼内特医生？”
“我看你可以自由发问，”医生笑吟吟地说。
“天啦，别谈什么自由了，我们的自由已经够多的了，”普洛丝小姐说。
“小声点，亲爱的！又胡说了不是？”露西抗议道。
“好了，我的宝贝”普洛丝小姐使劲地点着头说，“关键在于我是最仁慈的陛下乔治三世的臣民，”她说起那名字便屈膝行礼，“作为臣民，我的格言是：粉碎彼辈之阴谋，挫败彼辈上诡计，王乃我希望之所在，上帝佑我王无虞！”
克朗彻先生一时忠诚之情激荡，也像在教堂里一样跟着普洛丝小姐沙声沙气地念了起来。
“你的英国人味儿还挺足的，我很高兴，虽然我也希望你那喉咙不那么伤风，”普洛丝小姐称赞他，“可是问题在于，曼内特医生，我们还有机会从这个地方逃出去吗？”——这位好大姐对大家都担心的事一向装作满不在乎的样子，可现在却采取这种偶然的形式提了起来。
“我怕是还没有。那对查尔斯会有危险的。”
“唉——啊一一嗯！”普洛丝小姐一眼瞥见她心爱的人儿在火光中的金发，便装出欢喜的样子压下了叹息。“那我们只好耐心等待了。就这样吧。正如我弟弟所罗门常说的，我们必须高昂着头，从低处着手。走吧，克朗彻先生！——你可别动，小鸟儿！”
两人走了出去，把露西、她的丈夫、她的父亲和小家伙留在明亮的炉火边。罗瑞先生马上就要从银行大厦回来了，普洛丝小姐刚才已点起了灯，却把它放到了一个角落里，好让大家享受熊熊的炉火，不受灯光打扰。小露西双手搂住姥爷的胳膊坐在他身边，姥爷开始用比耳语略高的声音给她讲故事。讲的是一个神通广大的神仙打破监牢的墙壁救出一个囚犯的故事，那囚犯曾经帮助过神仙。一切的调子都低低的、静静的，露西感到比任何时候都轻松放心。
“那是什么？”她突然叫了起来。
“亲爱的！”她父亲停止了故事，把手放在她的手上，“别慌。你心里太乱！一点点小事——什么事都没有——也都叫你吃惊！你呀，还算是你爸爸的女儿么？”
“我觉得，父亲，”露西脸色苍白，口气犹豫地解释说，“我听见楼梯上有陌生的脚步声。”
“亲爱的，楼梯静悄悄的，跟死亡一样。”
他刚说到“死亡”，门上砰地一响。
“啊，爸爸，爸爸，这是什么意思！把查尔斯藏起来，救救他！”
“我的孩子，”医生站起身子，把手放在她肩上。“我已经把他救出来了。你这种表现多么软弱，宝贝！我去开门。”
他捧起灯，穿过中间两间屋，开了门。地板上有粗暴的脚步声，四个头戴红便帽、手执马刀和手枪的粗鲁汉子走进屋来。
“公民埃佛瑞蒙德，又名达尔内，”第一个说。
“谁找他？”达尔内回答。
“我找他。我们找他。我认得你，埃佛瑞蒙德，今天在法庭上见过你。共和国再一次逮捕你。”
四个人把他包围了，他站在那儿，妻子和女儿紧靠着他。
“凭什么我再一次被捕？告评我。”
“你只须立即回到裁判所附属监狱就行。明天会审问你的。”
医生被这群不速之客的降临弄得目瞪口呆，他手上棒着灯，仿佛变成了捧灯的雕像。他听完这话才行动起来，放下灯，走到说话人面前，不算不温和地揪住了他那羊毛衬衫宽松的前襟说：
“你说你认识他，可你认识我么？”
“我认识你，医生公民。”
“我们都认识你，医生公民，”另外三个人说。
他满怀不安一个一个地望了他们好一会儿，才降低嗓门说：
“那么，你们可不可以回答我他刚才提出的问题？那是怎么回事？”
“医生公民，”第一个人不情愿地说，“圣安托万区的人认为他已受到告发。这个公民就是从圣安托万区来的。”他说时指着第二个进来的人。
他所指的人点了点头，补充道：
“圣安托万告发了他。”
“告发他什么？”医生问。
“医生公民，”第一个人还带着刚才那不情愿的情绪说，“别再问了。既然共和国要求你作出牺牲，作为一个好爱国者你无疑是乐意奉献的。共和国重于一切。人民高于一切。埃佛瑞蒙德，我们还忙着呢。”
“还有一个问题，”医生请求道，“你可否告诉我是谁告发他的？”
“这可是违反规定的，”第一个人说，“不过你可以问这位圣安托万区的人。”
医生转过头望着那人，那人不安地站着，抹了抹胡子，终于说道：
“不错！是违反规定的。不过告发他的——严重告发他的——是公民德伐日夫妇。还有一个人。”
“还有一个什么人？”
“你还要问吗，医生公民？”
“要阿。”
“那么，”圣安托万区的人露出一种奇怪的表情说，“你明天就会知道的，现在我是个哑巴！”
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