Two Cities

Chapter 45 Sharpening Stone

The Tellson's Bank, in the Saint-Germain quarter of Paris, was a wing of a building, communicated with the outside by a courtyard, and cut off from the street by a high wall and a solid door.The previous owner was a great nobleman who used to live here and escaped successfully across the border wearing his cook's clothes as a refugee.Now he keeps avoiding the pursuit of others.But before his "reincarnation", he was none other than the adult who used four strong men to prepare chocolate for his mouth, and the waiter of the chef mentioned just now was still outside.

His Excellency was still not caught, and the four strong men were always ready to slit his throat willingly to wash away the so-called crime, which was to be dedicated to the altar of the Republic in the dawn-unity and indivisibility, freedom , Equality, Fraternity, or Death.The adult's residence was only temporarily sealed up at the beginning, and then it will not belong to the adult.Due to the rapid development of the situation, one decree followed another decree. On the night of September [-]rd in the fall, the patriot committee members who enforced the law had already occupied the mansion of the adults, hung the three-color emblem on it, and set up a hall in Fulitang. Drinking brandy in the splendid hall.

If Tellson's Bank in London had a building of the same style as Tellson's Bank in Paris, the person in charge would be mad with anger. How would the person in charge of Great Britain persuade this sense of divine mission if there were boxes planted with orange trees and little cupids with wings on top of the counter?But those things do exist.Tellson had erased the Cupid, but there was another Cupid on the ceiling in cool clothes, looking at the money from morning till night (which was true for him).This pagan doll, with the drapered figure behind him, the mirrors built into the walls, and the clerks not too old to be tempted to dance in public, would have been in London's Lombard Street would cause the bank to fail.But Tellson's Bank of France, in spite of these things, was doing well as usual.As long as the situation is calm, people will not withdraw their deposits because of the situation.

What money will be withdrawn from Tellson's Bank in the future?Will no one remember?The money has been here?Those gold and silver utensils and jewelry will have lost their original luster in Tellson's warehouse, and what will happen to its owner on his deathbed? Another world to deal with?No one could explain it, not even Mr. Jarvis Lorry.These questions troubled him for a long time.He sat by the freshly lit fire (the year was poor and cold early), and there was a shadow on his honest and brave face that was greater than the flickering lamp overhead could cast. , darker than anything in the room could distortly reflect—a macabre shadow.

He has several rooms in the bank.For his affection for the bank made him a part of it, like a strong ivy.By chance, they got some kind of guarantee to occupy the main building of the building, but the upright old man did not give them strong expectations.There is a large parking lot under the veranda on the opposite side of the courtyard, and several carriages of that official are still parked there.There are two torches fixed on the two pillars, burning fiercely.There was a large whetstone in the clearing outside in the firelight.Because of the haphazard installation of the thing, it seems to have been hastily moved from a nearby blacksmith shop or other workshop.Mr. Lorry turned and looked outside, and trembling at the sight of these harmless things, went on to his seat by the fire.He had opened not only the panes, but the outer latticed shutters, when he got up and closed the windows.He was shivering with cold.

Outside the tall walls and solid doors came the usual hum of the city, but there was also a strange sound, the ringing was strange and ghostly, as if something different in nature was flying into the sky .

"Thank God," said Mr. Lorry, folding his hands, "for I am glad I have no relations in this abominable place. God bless those who are in danger!"

The doorbell rang at the same time.He thought, "Those people are back!" He heard some noises there.But instead of the uproar that he had expected rushing into the courtyard, the gate slammed shut instead, and everything returned to calm.

He started to get nervous and worried, making him worry about the bank.The drastic changes in the situation made people feel uneasy and nervous, but his place was guarded tightly.He stood up and wanted to find the reliable people guarding the building, when suddenly two people rushed in.He was taken aback when he saw someone coming, and slowly retreated into the house.

It's Lucy and her father!Lucy held out her arms to him, with the usual concentrated, tense sincerity on her face, as if the Creator had purposely imprinted on her face, asking her to show great support at this critical moment of her life.

"What happened?" Mr. Lorry gasped, bewildered. "What's the matter? Lucy! Manette! What's the matter? Why are you here? What's the matter?"

She looked flustered, stared at his face, gasped in his arms, and begged him, "Ah, dear friend! My husband..."

"Your husband, Lucy?" "Charles." "What is Charles doing?" "Here." "Here, in Paris?"

"Have been here for some time--three or four days--I don't know exactly--I've run out of ideas. A good deed made him go here without saying goodbye. He was caught by the city gate Get up and send me to prison."

The old man yelled involuntarily, and almost at the same time, the doorbell rang again, only the sound of footsteps and words rushed into the yard.

"What's the matter, and why is it so noisy?" said the doctor, turning to the window.

"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry. "Turn around quickly! Manette, your life is in danger. Don't touch the shutter."

The doctor turned away, with his hand still on the window, and said with a brave sneer:
"My dear friend, I am not afraid of life in this city! I was a prisoner of the Bastille. In Paris - and indeed in all France - whoever you are, just know that I was a prisoner of the Bastille , can't do anything to me. They just hug me and lift me up with a feeling of triumph that is unbearable. My past pain has given me the strength to push me through all obstacles, let me Knowing what happened to Charles, I ended up here. I knew it was going to happen. I knew I could help Charles out of any danger. That's what I told Lucy.—what's that voice over there?" placed on the window.

"Don't look!" cried Mr. Lorry impatiently. "No, Lucy, dear, you can't see either!" He put his arms around her. "Don't be so frightened, my dears. I solemnly swear to you, I don't know what happened to Charles, or even think that he's in this damn place. What prison is he in?"

"Lafus." "Lafus. Lucy, my child, you have always done things safely. You must be calm now and strictly follow my requirements, because there will be unexpected problems. To solve them, we can only rely on Calmness is all you need. No action can be done tonight, so you must stay here. I say this because what I have to ask of you for Charles's sake is extremely difficult. You must obey immediately, neither move nor Raise your voice. You must let me take you to the back room so I can have two minutes alone with your father. This is a matter of life and death, and you must have no objection."

"I obey. I can feel that I have no choice but to do what you say. I understand your sincerity."

The old man kissed her, urged her into his room, and locked the door behind him, then hurried back to the doctor, opened the window and part of the shutters, put his hand on his arm, and looked out into the yard with him. go.

There were men and women in the yard: not many, not crowding the yard, not more than forty or fifty in all, and not particularly close to one another.It was the man who occupied the building who made them come in through the gate to use the whetstone.That's what they installed that thing for.The place is convenient and secluded.

But, these are all terrifying people!What he did was quite a horrible thing!

The whetstone has a pair of handles.The two men shook wildly.As soon as the millstone turned, they raised their faces, and their long hair hung down. They looked more terrifying and cruel than the savages with hideous faces.They put on fake eyebrows and beards, and their hideous faces are covered with stains. Their faces are distorted by screaming, and their eyes are staring because of animal excitement and sleep.The two thugs kept shaking, and because their hair was too long, they often covered their eyes when they swung, and sometimes swung it back and hung it on the back of their heads.

Several women put wine to their mouths and let them drink.What dripped was not only blood, wine, but also sparks, forming an atmosphere of blood and fire.Looking around, everyone was covered in blood and stains.They took off their shirts and rushed towards the whetstone.Their limbs and bodies were covered with blood and dirt.The shabby clothes they wore were also stained with blood.The men hung like monsters with looted lace, silk, and ribbons, all drenched in blood.The tomahawks, short knives, bayonets, and battle knives they brought to sharpen were all bloody.Some of the big knives that were cut off were made by torn clothes and thin silk wrapped around the wrists of the knife holders. Although the textures were different, they all showed the same bright red color.When madmen with weapons snatched their weapons from the mass of sparks and rushed down the street, there was nothing but fiery red in their eyes--the kind of eyes that anyone who has never seen a beast would like to see. Aim the gun so that it will never appear again, even if you lose 20 years of life, you are willing. All this is seen in a flash, just like the world seen by people who are about to drown or are in other critical situations—— If that world exists.The two left the window, and the answer could be found in the doctor's friend's face.

"They're killing prisoners," said Mr. Lorry in a low voice, glancing around the closed room. "Take your word for it, and if you do have the power you think you have--and I believe you do--tell these devils how you are! Let them take you to La Force. Take your time, I don't know, but it can't be prolonged by that."

Dr. Manette squeezed his hand and rushed out without putting on his hat.When Mr. Lorry closed the shutter again, he was back in the yard.His white hair blowing in the wind, his striking face and nonchalant confidence as he parted his weapon like water quickly put him in the middle of the crowd around the whetstone.The activity did not continue, and he began speaking in a low, hasty, indistinct voice, which Mr. Lorry saw immediately surrounded by a crowd of twenty men in the middle of a procession of twenty men, one behind the other. They surrounded him one by one.The crowd shouted "Long live the Bastille! Go to La Fosse and rescue the relatives of the Bastille prisoner! Let the Bastille go to the front! Go to La Fosse and rescue the prisoner Evermond!" Countless voices echoed this cry .

Frightened, he closed the shutters and windows, drew the curtains, and hurried to tell Lucy that the people were helping her father, and had gone to find her husband, and found Lucy's daughter and Pross at the same time. The lady is already with her.Much later, as he sat watching them in the dead of night, he remembered that he was not surprised by their presence.

At this moment Lucy fell down beside him, clutching his hand, and Miss Pross had put the child on his bed, and she leaned her head slowly beside the child.O the long nights of weeping the poor wife!Oh, the long nights when her father was gone, and there was no news of her!

The doorbell rang twice again in the darkness, and many people broke in again, the whetstone rotated again, and made a buzzing sound again. "What's the matter?" cried Lucy, beginning to tense up. "Shut up! Soldiers sharpen their knives here too!" said Mr. Lorry. "It's not private property now, it's used as an arsenal or something, my dear." Came twice, but the first The second time he had no energy, and it was intermittent, and then it was dawn, he freed himself from the hands that were holding him, and looked out cautiously, there were still people looking around in a daze on the way.The man was covered in blood, as if he was a seriously injured soldier crawling out of the dead on the battlefield.Presently, in the dim light, the exhausted murderer saw one of your lord's carriages, and walked towards the revealing means of transport.He got himself into the car and rested on the fine upholstery.

Mr. Lorry looked out of the window again. The great whetstone of the earth had turned and the sun was slowly rising.The little whetstone still stood alone in the quiet morning air, scarlet—but that scarlet was not dyed by the sun, and nothing could take it away.

(End of this chapter)