to, but travelling papers;

and as time pressed, for the day was drawing to an end, it came at

last to their hastily dividing the business that was necessary to be

done, and hurrying away to do it.

Then, as the darkness closed in, the daughter laid her head

down on the hard ground close at her father’s side, and watched

him. The darkness deepened and deepened, and they both lay

quiet, until a light gleamed through the chinks in the wall.

Mr. Lorry and Monsieur Defarge had made all ready for the

journey, and had brought with them, besides travelling cloaks and

wrappers, bread and meat, wine, and hot coffee. Monsieur Defarge

put his provender, and the lamp he carried, on the shoemaker’s

bench (there was nothing else in the garret but a pallet-bed), and

he and Mr. Lorry roused the captive, and assisted him to his feet.

No human intelligence could have read the mysteries of his

mind, in the scared blank wonder of his face. Whether he knew

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

what had happened, whether he recollected what they had said to

him, whether he knew that he was free, were questions which no

sagacity could have solved. They tried speaking to him; but, he

was so confused, and so very slow to answer, that they took fright

at his bewilderment, and agreed for the time to tamper with him

no more. He had a wild, lost manner of occ