rocedure, ensuring to any accused person any reasonable

hearing. There could have been no such Revolution, if all laws,

forms, and ceremonies, had not first been so monstrously abused,

that the suicidal vengeance of the Revolution was to scatter them

all to the winds.

Every eye was turned to the jury. The same determined patriots

and good republicans as yesterday and the day before, and

tomorrow and the day after. Eager and prominent among them,

one man with a craving face, and his fingers perpetually hovering

about his lips, whose appearance gave great satisfaction to the

spectators. A life-thirsting, cannibal-looking, bloody-minded

juryman, the Jacques Three of Saint Antoine. The whole jury, as a

jury of dogs empanelled to try the deer.

Every eye then turned to the five judges and the public

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

prosecutor. No favourable leaning in that quarter today. A fell,

uncompromising, murderous business-meaning there. Every eye

then sought some other eye in the crowd, and gleamed at it

approvingly; and heads nodded at one another before bending

forward with a strained attention.

Charles Evremonde, called Darnay. Released yesterday.

Reaccused and retaken yesterday. Indictment delivered to him

last night. Suspected and Denounced enemy of the Republic,

Aristocrat, one of a family of tyrants, one of