Two Cities

Chapter 62 The End of Weaving (1)
While fifty-two people awaited their fate, Madame Defarge summoned Furies and Jacques III, a member of the Revolutionary Jury, for a conclave.The place where Madame Defarge met with the two fateful servants was not in the hotel, but in the hut of the former road mender and now the sawmill.Sawyer didn't attend the meeting, he stayed away like a satellite in outer space, intending to express his views only when necessary or invited.

"But our Defarge," said Jacques III, "is definitely a good republican, isn't he?"

"There is no equal in France," the eloquent Furies pricklyly affirmed.

"Don't be noisy, little vengeance," Madame Defarge frowned slightly, and put a finger to her assistant's lips, "I want to tell you that my husband is an outstanding republican and a courageous man." A courageous person deserves the respect of the Republic. He has also won the trust of the Republic. And he has his weaknesses, and he is too kind to doctors."

"It's a pity," Jacques Three said in a low voice, shaking his head inexplicably, and a few ruthless fingers quickly scratched at his mouth again. "That would not be a good citizen, very sorry."

"You know," said the landlady, "I'm not interested in doctors. I don't care whether he's dead or not, and that doesn't make any difference to me. But the Evremonds will have to be wiped out, and the wife and children will definitely go with the husband and father." .”

"She has the most beautiful head to follow," said Jacques Three quietly. "I've seen a lot of blue-eyed, blond heads here, and the way Samson lifts them is charming." He was a cannibal, but he talked like a gourmand.

Madame Defarge thought for a moment with lowered eyelids. "And that kid with the same blond hair and blue eyes," Jacques Three said in a state of enjoying thought. "It's very difficult to see children there, but it's charming." "Anyway," said Madame Defarge, after a pause, "I can't depend on my husband in this matter. I've felt since last night that not only is it impossible to plan my plans." Tell him the details, and do it quickly, or he may leak the news and let them escape." "It is absolutely impossible to let them escape," Jacques Three whispered. "Not even one. The number is less than half at the moment. We should kill 120 of them every day."

"Anyway," continued Madame Defarge, "my husband can't understand why I'm going to exterminate this family. I can't understand why he cares so much for the doctor. So I must do it myself. Come, little one." Citizen." The Sawyer touched his red cap and came forward.He treated her with respect and obedience.

"Can you testify to those gestures today, little citizen?" snapped Madame Defarge.

"Yes, yes, why not!" cried the sawman, "every day, rain or shine, from two o'clock to four o'clock, always there gesticulating, sometimes with the little one, sometimes without it. I know Just know. I've seen it with my own eyes."

He made a number of gestures as he spoke, and seemed to imitate complex gestures he had never seen before.

"Definitely a conspiracy," said Jacques III, "absolutely." "Is the jury all right?" said Madame Defarge, looking at him with a sullen smile. "Don't doubt the patriotic jury, my dear citizen, I can vouch for my fellow jurors." "Let me think," Madame Defarge fell into thought again, "think again. Right! For my husband, can I let the doctor go? It doesn't make any difference to me. Can I let him go? "

"He must be a head," whispered Jacques Three. "We still don't have enough brains, and it would be a pity to let them go, I think."

"When I saw the woman, the doctor was gesticulating just like her!" protested Madame Defarge. "I can't avoid talking about it, I can't leave the case to the little citizen. If I were a witness, I wouldn't be far from there."

Furies and Jacques III vied with each other to affirm that she was the most respected and the best witness.Not to be outdone, the little citizen said that she was the only witness.

"No, I can't let him go," said Madame Defarge. "He's going to have to get in as hard as he can! You don't have time at three o'clock, and you're going to see the batch that's been killed today—isn't it?"

It was the wood sawman who asked this question.The sawman said at once that he was going too, and added that he was the most active republican.Seriously, if anything deprived him of the opportunity to enjoy an afternoon smoke while watching a state-level barber perform, he would be the most backward republican.His confession was a bit exaggerated, and it even made people feel that he was always anxious about his own small safety.And he might really be under suspicion, for Madame Defarge was looking at him disdainfully with her black eyes.

"I'm going there too," said the landlady. "After that's over there, you go to St. Antoine, about eight o'clock, and we're going to my district to expose these people."

The sawman said that he would be proud, very proud, if he could accompany female citizens.But the female citizen gave him a blank look, which made him extremely embarrassed. He avoided her gaze like a puppy, got into the firewood pile and started sawing to hide his embarrassment.

Madame Defarge leaned the jurors and the Furies closer to the door, and made her point more profoundly to them:

"The woman must be at home now to wait for his death. She will mourn, she will suffer, she will absolutely hate the judgment of the Republic, and have compassion for the enemies of the Republic. I will go to her."

"How admirable, how admirable!" Jacques III exclaimed happily. "Ah, my darling!" cried the Furies, embracing her.

"Take my knitting," said Madame Defarge, handing the wool to the assistant. "Put it on my usual seat, and take it. Go at once, for there is a good chance that there will be more people than usual today."

"I accept the orders of my superiors with all my heart," replied the Fury quickly, and kissed her on the cheek. "You can't be late?"

"I'll be there before the execution begins." "Before the prison van arrives. Absolutely, my darling," the Nemesis said to her back. "Before the prison van arrives!" Madame Defarge slowly waved her hand to show that she heard it and arrived on time, and then walked through the mud and around the prison wall.The Furies and the jurors watched her go, and showed great admiration for her beauty and high morals.

Most of the women at that time were almost deformed by the hands of the times, but none of them was more terrifying than this ruthless woman walking on the street today.She possesses a strong and courageous character, a shrewd and quick mind, and great determination.Her kind of beauty, the beauty not only endows her with the characteristics of stability, solidity, bitterness and hatred, but also makes people have to praise this characteristic sincerely.In any case, that "time of chaos" would definitely make her stand out.But because she has been deeply wronged since childhood, mixed with deep-rooted class hatred, chance has transformed her into a tigress.She is merciless.Even if it existed, it is long gone.

It didn't matter to her that an innocent man had to die for the crimes of his parents.What she saw was not him, but his parents.That man's wives would all be widows, and his daughters orphans, and that didn't matter to her.That kind of punishment was still not enough, because they were all her old enemies, her trophies, and they had no right to live in the first place.It was impossible to get her to forgive, she felt no pity, not even for herself.If she fell in a battle she had participated in, she would not feel sorry for herself either.If she was sent to the guillotine, she would definitely grit her teeth and wish that the person who sent her to the guillotine would change places with her, but there was no tenderness of resentment or sadness.

Such was the heart beneath Madame Defarge's coarse gown.The cloth gown she wore casually fit perfectly, but it was a bit grotesque.The black hair was luxuriantly thick under the rough red cap.She had a loaded pistol hidden in her chest.A sharpened dagger was pinned to his waist.She walks confidently on the street in such attire and such a character: showing the vigor and ease of a woman who is used to walking on the brown sand with bare legs and bare feet.

At this moment the traveling carriage was waiting for the arrival of the passengers.Mr. Lorry hesitated last night as to whether Miss Pross could take this carriage.Carriages should generally not be overweight, and the most important thing is to minimize the time spent checking the carriages and passengers, because whether they can escape depends to a large extent on the sporadic saving of minutes and seconds.After much deliberation, he finally decided to let Miss Pross and Jerry go in the lightest carriage, which was very famous at that time, and start at three o'clock, because they could go in and out of Paris freely.Without delay, they can quickly overtake the stage-coach, overtake it, and hire horses for the stage-coach beforehand, so that it can go swiftly during the precious hours of the night--the last thing to be lost.

Miss Pross, seeing the real usefulness of her plan to be useful at that crucial moment, agreed.She and Jerry saw the carriage set off and found out who Solomon was sending, and they worked absent-mindedly for about ten minutes, making full preparations to catch up with the stagecoach.At this time Madame Defarge was walking on the street, getting closer to this apartment - all the tenants here had evacuated, and they were the only ones still discussing:
"At the moment, Mr. Cruncher," said Miss Pross, unable to speak with excitement, unable to stand, unable to move, or even to live. "What do you think would happen if we didn't start from this yard? We've already walked a car today, and it's not normal to take another car."

"I think you are right, miss," replied Mr. Cruncher. "And I've always supported you, whether you're right or not."

"I'm nearly mad with fear and hope for those darlings," cried Miss Pross, "and I can't think of anything. And you, my dear poor Crown Mister Cher?"

"I might be able to give some idea of ​​the rest of my life, miss," replied Cruncher, "but I'm afraid I can't use my God-blessed old brain at this moment. In the present emergency I think Make two vows, can you remember them for me, Miss?"

"Oh, dear!" cried Miss Pross, still wailing, "I remember it at once, but you must be a good man to keep it out of your mind."

"First," said Mr. Cruncher, trembling all over, with a pale face and a solemn expression, "as long as those poor people can escape safely, I will never do that kind of thing again, absolutely not!"

"I assure you, Mr. Cruncher," replied Miss Pross, "that you will never do it again, whatever it is. I beg you, don't think it necessary to explain what it is."

"I understand, ma'am," Jerry answered, "I must not tell you. Second, I will not interfere with Mrs. Cruncher kneeling in prayer if those poor souls are safe. Not at all!" "

"Whatever the business of the house," said Miss Pross, wiping her tears, as calmly as she could, "I have no doubt that Mrs. Cruncher will do it all. Good heavens, my poor darlings!"

"I'm even going to say, ma'am," went on Mr. Cruncher, in a very astonishing, sermon-like manner, "that you will please listen to me, and tell my wife myself that I have been converted in the matter of prayer. I don't think so. I do hope Mrs. Cruncher is on her knees praying for us right now!"

"Well, well, well, I hope she's praying, my dear," cried Miss Pross with great anxiety, "and that her prayers will be answered!"

"Never come true," went on Mr. Cruncher, more solemnly, more slowly, and more probingly. "Don't let my words and deeds come to pass now on the vows I made on behalf of these poor souls! Don't let us all get down on our knees (if it's convenient) and pray that they escape from that terrible danger. Don't let them , Miss: I mean, don't let it all come true!" This was Mr. Cruncher's conclusion after he was constantly trying to get a better conclusion.

(End of this chapter)