Two Cities

Chapter 14 Congratulations
The simmering pool of human heads that had boiled all day was spilling its last remnants through dimly lit passages.At this time, Dr. Manette, his daughter Lucy Manette, Mr. Lorry, the defendant's attorney, and Mr. Stryver, the defendant's defense lawyer, were surrounding Charles Darnay who had just been released, congratulating him on his death. escape.

Even though the lights were much brighter, it was extremely difficult to recognize the old shoemaker in the Paris attic in this intelligent, straight-backed Doctor Manette.But people who have seen him more than once, even if they haven't had the chance to hear the bleak and painful tone from his low and gloomy voice, and have not seen the gloomy expression that is distraught for no reason, still often want to take a second look at him.It may be an external factor, the recollection of a painful experience that has troubled him for a long time (as in this trial), or it may be caused by the emotion itself. Manifested automatically by his nature, it shrouded him in gloom, and at this time, those who did not know his experience could not help but bewildered, as if seeing the summer sun cast the shadow of the Bastille in real life from three hundred miles away. projected onto him.

Only his daughter had the power to drive this gloomy brooding from his heart.She was the golden thread that bound him to the history before the Passion, and to the present after the Passion: the sound of her voice, the radiance of her cheeks, the touch of her hands, seemed to him forever. a beneficial effect.Can't say forever for sure, because she also reminded him of certain moments that made her unenchanted.But those moments were few and far between, and she was convinced they were a thing of the past.

Mr. Darnay had kissed her hand warmly and gratefully, and had turned to Mr. Stryver to express his heartfelt thanks.Mr. Stryver, who had just turned thirty, looked twenty years older than he really was.A stocky, loud, red-faced man with a big grin, completely free from decency, he had the manner (physically as well as morally) to push his way through a crowd to find someone to talk to, and the consequences were very capable. defend his actions.

Still in wig and lawyer's gown, he barged in on his ex-client and pushed Mr. Lorry aside for no reason.He said: "I'm glad to have won and got you out, Mr. Darnay. It was a shameless trial, as shameless as it could be. But it doesn't have any chance of winning because of its shamelessness."

"I owe you a lifetime of gratitude—in two senses," the ex-partner said, grabbing his hand.

"I have used all my strength for you, Mr. Darnay. I am a man who, with all my strength, is as good as any man, I believe."

This was obviously for others to follow up, "You are much better than others." Mr. Lorry continued.Maybe he didn't say this without a plan of his own.He intends to squeeze back into the circle.

"You see it that way?" said Mr. Stryver. "Yes, you've been here all day today, and you should know what's going on. You're a business man, too."

"That's why," said Mr. Lorry.The lawyer who knew the law pushed him back into the circle as he had pushed him out before—"That's why I'm going to ask Dr. Manette to stop the conversation and order everyone to go home. Miss Lucy looks bad, Dale Mr Nei has had a terrible day and we are all tired."

"You can only speak for yourself, Mr. Lorry," said Mr. Stryver. "I have another night's work to do."

"I speak for myself," replied Mr. Lorry, "and for Mr. Darnay and Miss Lucy—do you think, Miss Lucy, that I can speak for all of us?" But she also glanced at her father.

Her father's face seemed frozen, looking at Darnay strangely.It was a focused look, and the brows were slowly wrinkled, revealing a look of disgust and suspicion, even mixed with a trace of fear.With such an unexpected expression on his face, his thoughts had already flown into the distance.

"Daddy," Lucy said, placing a hand tenderly on his.He gradually shook off the shadow on his body and turned to her. "Let's go home, Daddy?" He said with a long breath, "Okay." The acquitted prisoner parted with his friends, and they felt: He wasn't going to be released that night—but This impression is only his own making.Almost all the lights in the passage were extinguished.The iron gate was banging and rattling shut.People are leaving this horrible place.Interest in the gallows, the flail, the scourging post, the branding iron would not attract people here again until the next morning.Lucy Manette stepped between her father and Mr. Darnay into the open air.They hired a cab, and the father and daughter drove away.

Mr. Stryver had parted ways with them long ago, and had crowded back into the cloakroom.In addition to this there was a man who had never joined the group or spoken to any of them, but who had been leaning against a wall covered in the deepest darkness until the others had left Step out of the shadows and stand watching until the carriage disappears into the night.He was just walking towards the street where Mr. Lorry and Mr. Darnay stood.

"So, Mr. Lorry! Can the business man speak to Mr. Darnay?" Mr. Carleton's part in the day's procedure had hitherto been thanked and unknown.He had taken off his lawyer's robes, but that didn't change anything about him.

"If you know the contradictions in the hearts of people who handle business, you will find it particularly interesting. There are two forces fighting each other, one is the impulse of good nature, and the other is the face of business work."

Mr. Lorry blushed, and said enthusiastically, "You once said this, sir. We who handle business serve the company and cannot be our own masters. We must think more about the company and less about ourselves."

"I know, I know," began Mr. Carton, "don't be offended, Mr. Lorry. I have no doubt that you are as good as any other, and I dare say you are more kind."

"Actually, sir," Mr. Lorry went on, ignoring him, "I really don't know what you have to do with it. I'm a lot older than you, to put it bluntly. Turn it into your business." "Business! God bless you, I have no business!" said Mr. Carlton.

"It's a pity you don't have a business, sir." "I think it's a pity, too." "If you had a business," Mr. Lorry refused to relax, "you'll probably do well." "May the Lord love you, no! —I'll never do a good job,' said Mr. Carleton.

"Well, sir!" exclaimed Mr. Lorry, exasperated by the utter indifference of the other party, "business is a fine thing, a very respectable thing. And, if it brings constraints and inconveniences, one has to Silencer, Mr. Darnay is a magnanimous gentleman who knows how to handle it well. Good night, Mr. Darnay. God bless you, sir! I wish you prosperity and happiness today--sedan!"

Mr. Lorry was probably a little angry with himself, and a little angry with the lawyer.He hurried into the sedan chair and went back to Tellson's Bank.Carlton smelled of beer and seemed a little drunk.He laughed, turned to Darnay and said:

"It is a special chance that connects you to me. It must feel very different to stand alone on the stone slabs of the street with a man who looks very much like you tonight?"

"I don't think I'm alive," replied Charles Darnay.

"I'm not surprised by this. You have walked a long way on Huangquan Road. You don't even have the strength to speak."

"I don't think I have any strength now." "Then why don't you go eat? I already ate when those fools were discussing which world you should belong to. Let me take you to the nearest hotel." Let's have a tasty meal!"

He took his arm and led him across Ruge Hill to Fleet Street, across a shed and into a tavern.They are led to a hut.Here Charles Darnay ate an ordinary but delicious supper, drank some good wine, and slowly began to regain his strength.Carlton, on the other hand, sat across the table with a rather blunt expression on his face, with his own bottle of beer in front of him.

"Do you feel you are back in this chaotic world now, Mr. Darnay?"

"My sense of time and place are terribly confused. However, I've recovered enough to be confused."

"You must be feeling quite content!" he said sharply, pouring another full glass.That cup is quite big. "For me, the most satisfying thing is to forget that I belong to this world. The world is no good to me--except such wine. We're not the same. I'm actually starting to feel that we're not the same in a lot of things."

A day's torment had bewildered Charles Darnay.He felt that being with someone very similar to himself was like a dream, so he didn't know how to answer, so he had no choice but to say nothing at last.

"Now that you have finished your meal," said Carton presently, "why don't you drink to your health, Mr. Darnay? Why don't you make a toast?"

"Whose health is a toast to? Whom is a toast to?"

"What's the matter, isn't that person on the tip of your tongue? It should be there, I swear it must be there."

"That's Miss Manette!" "Miss Manette!"

Carlton watched his companion toast, threw his own glass against the wall behind him, shattered it, and rang for another glass.

"It was a pretty lady you put into the carriage in the dark, Mr. Darnay!" said he, pouring wine into a new glass.

The answer was a slight frown and a short "yes." "It's very lucky to have such a beautiful lady sympathize with you and cry for you! What do you think? To get such sympathy and pity, even if you are judged by life and death, it is worth it, Mr. Darnay?"

Darnay remained silent. "She was delighted when I told her about you. She didn't say so, but I thought so."

The hint was a timely reminder to Darnay that the unsavory companion had offered to help him through that day.He immediately turned to the topic and thanked him.

"I don't need to be thanked, and don't deserve to be thanked," was the answer, indifferently. "In the first place, it's a simple matter of doing it. And in the second place, I don't know why I did it. Mr. Darnay, I want to ask you a question."

"Welcome, and thank you for your help." "Do you think I like you particularly?" "Indeed, Mr. Carton," Darnay replied, feeling particularly uneasy. "I haven't thought about it yet."

"Then think about it now." "From what you've done, you seem to like me, but I don't think you like me."

"I don't think I like you, either," Carlton said. "I'm starting to have a high opinion of your understanding."

"However," continued Darnay, rising to ring the bell, "I hope it will not prevent me from paying my bills, or our parting from each other quite innocently."

Carton replied, "I'm not going!" Darnay rang. "Are you going to pay the whole bill?" Carlton asked.The other party answered in the affirmative. "Then get me another pint of the same. Wake me up at ten o'clock, man."

Charles Darnay finished his bill and bade him good night.Carlton didn't make a sound, but stood up with a somewhat challenging attitude, "One last word: Mr. Darnay, do you think I'm drunk?"

"I think you have been drinking, Mr. Carton." "Think? You know I have been drinking." "Since I must answer, I answer: Yes." "Then you must know why I drink. I'm a hopeless coolie, sir. I don't care about anybody in the world, and nobody cares about me."

"I am very sorry for you. You could have used your talents better."

"Perhaps, Mr. Darnay, perhaps not. But don't be complacent about your sober face. You don't know what will happen. Good night!"

The strange fellow was left alone.He took a candle, went to the mirror on the wall, and looked carefully at himself in the mirror.

"Do you like this person very much?" He whispered to his own shadow, "Why do you like a person who looks like you so much? You know you don't love him, get out! You let I have undergone such a big change! What a reason, you actually fell in love with someone, but he let you see what you can’t pursue, and what you might become! If you exchanged status with him, Can you be as favored by those blue eyes as he was? Can you be sympathized by that excited face as he was? Well, come on, you hate him!"

He turned to the pint for solace and drank it down in a few minutes.Then he fell asleep with his arms folded on the table, his hair dragging on the table, and the candle tears fell on him like a long shroud.

(End of this chapter)