resounded with the clapping of hands. Similarly, during two or

three hours of drawl, and the winnowing of many bushels of

words, Madame Defarge’s frequent expressions of impatience

were taken up, with marvellous quickness, at a distance: the more

readily, because certain men who had by some wonderful exercise

of agility climbed up the external architecture to look in from the

windows, knew Madame Defarge well, and acted as a telegraph

between her and the crowd outside the building.

At length the sun rose so high that it struck a kindly ray as of

hope or protection, directly down upon the old prisoner’s head.

The favour was too much to bear; in an instant the barrier of dust

and chaff that had stood surprisingly long, went to the winds, and

Saint Antoine had got him!

It was known directly, to the furthest confines of the crowd.

Defarge had but sprung over a railing and a table, and folded the

miserable wretch in a deadly embraceMadame Defarge had but

followed and turned her hand in one of the ropes with which he

was tiedThe Vengeance and Jacques Three were not yet up with

them, and the men at the windows had not yet swooped into the

Hall, like birds of prey from their high percheswhen the cry

seemed to go up, all over the city, “Bring him out! Bring him to the

lamp!”

Down, and up, and head foremost on the steps of the bui