boiling there all

day, was straining off, when Doctor Manette, Lucie

Manette, his daughter, Mr. Lorry, the solicitor for the defence, and

its counsel, Mr. Stryver, stood gathered round Mr. Charles

Darnayjust releasedcongratulating him on his escape from

death.

It would have been difficult by a far brighter light, to recognize

in Doctor Manette, intellectual of face and upright of bearing, the

shoemaker of the garret in Paris. Yet, no one could have looked at

him twice, without looking again: even though the opportunity of

observation had not extended to the mournful cadence of his low

grave voice, and to the abstraction that overclouded him fitfully,

without any apparent reason. While one external cause, and that a

reference to his long lingering agony, would alwaysas on the

trialevoke this condition from the depths of his soul, it was also

in its nature to arise of itself, and to draw a gloom over him, as

incomprehensible to those unacquainted with his story as if they

had seen the shadow of the actual Bastille thrown upon him by a

summer sun, when the substance was three hundred miles away.

Only his daughter had the power of charming this black

brooding from his mind. She was the golden thread that united

him to a Past beyond his misery, and to a Present beyond his