visible in it, made it the uglier, showing how warped and

perverted all things good by nature were become. The maidenly

bosom bared to this, the pretty almost-child’s head thus distracted,

the delicate foot mincing in this slough of blood and dirt, were

types of the disjointed time.

This was the Carmagnole. As it passed, leaving Lucie

frightened and bewildered in the doorway of the wood-sawyer’s

house, the feathery snow fell as quietly and lay as white and soft,

as if it had never been.

“O my father!” for he stood before her when he lifted up the

eyes she had momentarily darkened with her hand; “such a cruel,

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bad sight.”

“I know, my dear, I know. I have seen it many times. Don’t be

frightened. Not one of them would harm you.”

“I am not frightened for myself, my father. But when I think of

my husband, and the mercies of these people” “We will set him

above their mercies very soon. I left him climbing to the window,

and I came to tell you. There is no one here to see you. You may

kiss your hand towards the highest shelving roof.”

“I do so, father, and I send him my Soul with it!”

“You cannot see him, my poor dear?”

“No, father,” said Lucie, yearning and weeping as she kissed

her hand, “no.”

A footstep in the snow. Madame Defarge. “I salute you,

citizeness,” from the Doctor. “I salute you, citizen.” This in

passing. Nothing more. Madame Defarge gone, like a shadow over

the white road.

“Give me your arm, my love. Pass from here with an air of

cheerfulness and courage, for his sake. That was well done”; they

had left the spot; “it shall not be in vain. Charles is summoned for

tomorrow.”

“For tomorrow!”

“There is no time to lose. I am well prepared, but there are

precautions to be taken, that could not be taken until he was

actually summoned before the Tribunal. He has not received the

notice yet, but I know that he will presently be summoned for

tomorrow, and removed to the Conciergerie; I have timely

information. You are not afraid?”

She could scarcely answer, “I trust in you.”

“Do so implicitly. Your suspense is nearly ended, my darling; he

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shall be restored to you within a few hours; I have encompassed

him with every protection. I must see Lorry.”

He stopped. There was a heavy lumbering of wheels within

hearing. They both knew too well what it meant. One. Two. Three.

Three tumbrils faring away with their dread loads over the

hushing snow.

“I must see Lorry,” the Doctor repeated, turning her another

way.