In the submissive way of one long accustomed to obey under

coercion, he ate and drank what they gave him to eat and drink,

and put on the cloak and other wrappings, that they gave him to

wear. He readily responded to his daughter’s drawing her arm

through his, and tookand kepther hand in both his own.

They began to descend; Monsieur Defarge going first with the

lamp, Mr. Lorry closing the little procession. They had not

traversed many steps of the long main staircase when he stopped,

and stared at the roof and round at the walls.

“You remember the place, my father? You remember coming

up here?”

“What did you say?”

But, before she could repeat the question, he murmured an

answer as if she had repeated it.

“Remember? No, I don’t remember. It was so very long ago.”

That he had no recollection whatever of his having been

brought from his prison to that house, was apparent to them. They

heard him mutter, “One Hundred and Five, North Tower”; and

when he looked about him, it evidently was for the strong fortresswalls

which had long encompassed him. On their reaching the

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

courtyard he instinctively altered his tread, as being in expectation

of a drawbridge; and when there was no drawbridge, and he saw

the carriage waiting in the open street, he dropped his daughter’s

hand and claspe