Two Cities

Chapter 31
Mrs. Defarge and her husband returned to the arms of St. Antoine quietly. At this moment, a figure in a blue hat was walking on the long road in the dark night, following the direction indicated by the compass. The manor of Lord Marquis is approaching step by step.His Excellency the Marquis is now listening to the whispers in the forest in the tomb.Now the stone-carved human faces are very leisurely, and they can finally hear the sound of the woods and springs, and the poor people in the village dare to break into the huge stone courtyard so that they can find wild vegetables nearby to satisfy their hunger and dead branches for firewood.Because of hunger, they had hallucinations, thinking that the expression of the stone human face had changed.There is such a rumor in the village-it exists as much as the people in the village have more than enough heart and power-to say that when the dagger is pierced, all the stone-carved human faces will change their expressions, from pride to anger and pain However, after shaking the figure forty feet above the spring, the expression of the stone statue changed again, taking on a look of revenge.And that expression will always remain.At the same time, someone pointed out two small dimples on the side of the nose carved out of the stone statue above the window of the room where the murder took place.Everyone knows this nest, but no one has seen it on the stone statue in the past.From time to time, two or three peasants in ragged clothes would walk over from the group of companions to look at the Marquis who had turned into a stone statue, and stretch out his thin fingers to play with it for a minute, and then they would walk together with their companions. Fleeing away on moss and leaves, like some hares -- hares are luckier than them, and can live freely in the woods.

Manor and huts.Stone-carved human faces and dangling figures.The bloodstains on the stone slabs and the clear spring water in the country springs—calculated in thousands of acres—a province of France—the whole of France—all of them condensed into a thin line of light under the night sky .The whole earth, with all its greatness and smallness, shone in the stars.Now that human knowledge can already analyze the structural components of light, then a higher intelligence will definitely analyze every thought and behavior, every crime and virtue of every responsible person in the faint light of this earth up.

The Defarges arrived at the gates of Paris in less than a while in a stagecoach under the stars.That's where they have to go.They stopped in front of the barricade guardhouse, and the person with the lantern came to check and question according to the usual practice.Defarge recognized two soldiers and a policeman there.He and the police are confidantes, so the two hugged warmly.

St. Antoine embraces the Defarges in the evening.The two stopped near the border and walked gradually among the black mud and garbage on its streets.Then Madame Defarge said to her husband:

"Hey, friend, what did Jacques from the police station tell you?" "Not much tonight, but he told me everything clearly. We have another spy here, and according to him there will be more people come, but he doesn’t even know it.”

"Very well!" said Madame Defarge in a cold business tone. "Remember to record him. What do they call him?"

"He's English." "That's best. What's his last name?"

"Bachsa," said Defarge, pronouncing it French.But he was careful and wanted to be clear, so he spelled every letter exactly.

"Barcelona," said Mrs. "Okay, what's the name?" "John."

"John Bartha," the lady read in silence, and then said again. "Okay, is his appearance clear?"

"Aged about forty, about five feet nine tall, black hair, dark complexion, generally good-looking. Dark eyes, thin, sallow face. Hooked nose, but not very straight, slightly askew to the left cheek, so It looks menacing."

"Uh, very good, what a portrait!" The wife said with a smile. "Write it down for him tomorrow."

The two went to the hotel.It is now midnight and the hotel is closed.Madame Defarge then sat down at the counter, counted the change she had received since she had left, counted the stock, rummaged through the ledgers, made a few more entries herself, made all possible checks on the waiter, and sent him to bed.Then she poured out the money in the bowl again, wrapped it in a handkerchief, and typed a detail to avoid problems at night.Meanwhile Defarge was pacing up and down with his pipe in his mouth, admiring it with satisfaction and not disturbing her.All his life in this business and household life he just paced up and down.The night was hot, the hotel was airtight and the environment was dirty so it had a bad smell.Mr. Defarge's sense of smell is not very sensitive, but the smell of wine in the store is obviously much stronger than before, and the smell of rum, brandy and anise is also stronger.He put down his finished pipe and sniffed the mixture.

"You're exhausted," the proprietress wrapped the money in a knot and looked up at him. "It's just the usual smell here."

"I'm a bit tired," her husband admitted. "You're also a little emotionally unstable," said the proprietress.Her sharp eyes were absorbed in the accounts, but she glanced at him now and then. "Oh, man, man!"

"But my dear!" Defarge was about to say. "But my dear!" said the landlady, nodding her head resolutely, "but my dear! You have softened your heart a little tonight!" "Yes," said Defarge, as if his words were wrenched out of his heart. , "The time is indeed too long." "It is quite a long time," his wife repeated him, "but which thing takes a long time? It takes a long time to get revenge, this is the rule .”

"It doesn't take that long to kill someone with a thunderbolt," Defarge said. "But tell me," the proprietress asked calmly, "how long does it take for the lightning to gather together?"

Defarge raised his head in thought, as if he thought there was some truth in this. "It doesn't take long for an earthquake to destroy a city," said the proprietress. "But tell me, how long does it take to prepare for an earthquake?"

"I think it will be a long time," said Defarge. "As long as everything is ready to heat it will erupt, turning everything in front of it into dust. But, even if you can't see or hear it, preparations for earthquakes are always going on. This can be regarded as comfort to you, remember."

Her eyes gleamed with anger, and a knot tightened in her hand, as if about to strangle an enemy.

"I tell you," the proprietress stretched out her right hand and said emphatically, "even though it has been on the road for a long time, it is already on the road and has come. Let me tell you, it will neither retreat nor stop because of this. Tell you, it keeps going. Look around, think about everyone we know in the world, think about the anger and resentment that the Jacques build up with every hour! It's still long Come on? Pooh! You're ridiculous."

"My brave wife," replied Defarge, with his head slightly bowed, his hands behind his back, like a schoolboy erring in front of his teacher, "I have no doubts about any of this. But it lingers It's been too long, and we may never see it in our lifetime. You should know it's possible, my wife."

"Eh! so what?" asked the landlady, and tied another knot, as if to hang another enemy.

"Hmm!" Degorge shrugged, half complaining, half apologetic. "Then it will be very difficult for us to see victory."

"But we can surely facilitate its coming," answered the proprietress, with a triumphant gesture of her outstretched hand. "Our efforts will not just evaporate like this. My whole soul believes that we will surely see Victory. Even if I can't see it, even if I know I can't see it, just give me the neck of a nobleman and tyrant, and I can still put it—"

The landlady tightened a terrible knot violently. "Stop it!" cried Defarge, blushing, as if he had been accused of cowardice. "Honey, I can do anything." "Yes! But sometimes you have to see objects and opportunities to persevere better. This is your weakness. Keep up your spirits, you have to persevere. Time You can set out the tiger and the devil as soon as you arrive, and as long as the tiger and the devil are still on the chain, you have to wait for your opportunity-quietly prepare."

The proprietress beat the string of knots on the counter as if to smash their brains out, to emphasize her conclusion.Then she calmly put the heavy handkerchief under her arm and said, "It's bedtime."

At noon the next day, this respectable woman was still knitting diligently in her original seat.A rose was placed beside her, although she only looked at it once or twice, it did not hinder her always free figure.There are a few sporadic customers in the store, some drinking and some not drinking.There are standing ones, some sitting ones, all kinds.It was very hot, and swarms of flies were preparing for exploratory adventures, and accidentally flew into the sticky small wine glass next to the proprietress, and fell to the bottom of the glass and died.The flies flying outside the cup were indifferent to the death of their companions, and looked at them with the most indifferent attitude, as if they were elephants or something that had nothing to do with them, until they encountered the same thing themselves. fate so far.It's amusing to think of the carelessness of flies! —the carelessness of the princes of the court that hot summer may have been equal to theirs.

A figure came in and cast its shadow on Madame Defarge.She thought it was a newcomer, so she put down her wool, stuck a rose in her scarf, and glanced at the newcomer.

The funny thing is that as soon as Mrs. Defarge picked up the rose, the customers stopped talking and started slipping out of the store one by one.

"Good day, madam," said the newcomer. "Good day, sir."

She answered loudly, knitting again, and now she thought to herself, "Ha! Good day, about forty years of age, about five feet nine, dark hair, fair face, dark skin, dark eyes, face Elongated gray matter, with an aquiline nose, but not quite straight, with a peculiar angle to the left cheek, forming a sinister expression! Good day, every feature!"

"Please give me a small glass of old cognac and a sip of fresh cold water, lady boss."

The proprietress did as he was told politely. "This cognac is delicious, madam!"

This wine is the first to receive such praise.Madame Defarge knew much better about it, and had a more exact estimate in her mind.But she still answered the prize, and then went on to knitting.The guest looked at her finger for a while, and took the opportunity to look at the place again.

"You knit very well, ma'am." "I'm used to it." "The pattern is pretty, too."

"Do you think it looks good?" the proprietress looked at him with a smile and said. "Of course. Can I ask what it's for?" "It's just for fun," said the proprietress, still looking at him with a smile, while flexibly moving her fingers. "What's the use?"

(End of this chapter)