It was dated from La Force, within an hour.

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“Will you accompany me,” said Mr. Lorry, joyfully relieved after

reading this note aloud, “to where his wife resides?”

“Yes,” returned Defarge.

Scarcely noticing as yet, in what a curiously reserved and

mechanical way Defarge spoke, Mr. Lorry put on his hat and they

went down into the court-yard. There they found two women; one

knitting.

“Madame Defarge, surely!” said Mr. Lorry, who had left her in

exactly the same attitude some seventeen years ago.

“It is she,” observed her husband.

“Does Madame go with us?” inquired Mr. Lorry, seeing that

she moved as they moved.

“Yes. That she may be able to recognise the faces and know the

persons. It is for their safety.”

Beginning to be struck by Defarge’s manner, Mr. Lorry looked

dubiously at him, and led the way. Both the women followed; the

second woman being The Vengeance.

They passed through the intervening streets as quickly as they

might, ascended the staircase of the new domicile, were admitted

by Jerry, and found Lucie weeping, alone. She was thrown into a

transport by the tidings Mr. Lorry gave her of her husband, and

clasped the hand that delivered his notelittle thinking what it

had been doing near him in the night, and might, but for a chance,

have done for him.

DEARESTTake courage. I am well, and your father has

influence around me. You cannot answer this. Kiss our child for

me.

That was all the writing. It was so much, however, to her who

received it, that she turned from Defarge to his wife, and kissed

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one of the hands that knitted. It was a passionate, loving, thankful,

womanly action, but the hand made no responsedropped cold

and heavy, and took to its knitting again.

There was something in its touch that gave Lucie a check. She

stopped in the act of putting the note in her bosom, and, with her

hands yet at her neck, looked terrified at Madame Defarge.

Madame Defarge met the lifted eyebrows and forehead with a

cold, impassive stare.

“My dear,” said Mr. Lorry, striking in to explain; “there are

frequent risings in the streets; and, although it is not likely they

will ever trouble you, Madame Defarge wishes to see those whom

she has the power to protect at such times, to the end that she may

know themthat she may identify them. I believe,” said Mr.

Lorry, rather halting in his reassuring words, as the stony manner

of all the three impressed itself upon him more and more, “I state

the case, Citizen Defarge?”

Defarge looked gloomily at his wife, and gave no other answer

than a gruff sound of acquiescence.