Chapter-21
After Sidney Carton had taken Lucie and Dr. Manetee home from the courthouse, he left them in the care of Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross, an turned his steps towards Saint Antoine and to Ernest Defarge’s wine shop.
Madame Defarge served the Englishman his wine and listened to him struggling to make himself understood in French (a tongue which Sidney spoke well). Returning to the counter, he remarked to her husband how much Sidney looked like Charles St. Evremonde.
Defarge looked at Sidney, nodded to his wife, then returned to his conversation with the only other customer in the shop—Jacques Three. “We must stop somewhere,” Defarge said loudly, confident that his French was not understood by the Englishman at the table.
“We can’t stop short of execution!” cried his wife.
“Execution is a good thing,” added Jacques.
“Our enemies should be put to death!”
“But Dr. Manette has suffered so much already,” said Defarge, “and so has his daughter.”
“If I left it up to you, you would try to save the prisoner even now,” complained Madame Defarge, “But I knitted the Evremonde family into my list a long time ago. They must all be destroyed—Lucie and the child as well!”
“Why are you so bitter against the wife and child, Madame?” asked Jacques Three.
“When the Bastille fell, Jacques, my husband, found that paper in the North Tower, and we read Dr. Manette’s story together. My reaction was one of horror for, you see, that peasant family described in it was my family. That slain boy was my brother, that kidnapped girl dying of brain fever was my sister, their heartbroken father was my father! I am the only surviving member of that family, and the duty to avenge the crimes of the Evremondes—every last one!—falls upon me!”
Other customers entered the wine shop, and the conversation stopped.
Sidney had overheard enough. Now Lucie and the child were in danger as well. He had to act quickly.
Leaving the shop, he headed for Mr. Lorry’s room for a planned meeting at nine o’clock with the banker and Dr. Manette. But it wasn’t until the clock was striking midnight that the old doctor appeared at the door. The look on his face made it clear to Sidney and Mr. Lorry that all was lost.
“I can’t find it. Where is it?” cried the doctor, tearing wildly at his hair. “I must have my shoemaker’s bench and tools.”
All was lost, utterly lost.
The two men soothed the weeping doctor and assured him that he would have his tools shortly. Sidney then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and searched through the doctor’s pockets until he found a similar one. Handing them both to Mr. Lorry, he explained, “These travel papers will allow Lucie, Dr. Manette, the child and me to leave Paris. Hold them for me until tomorrow, for I do not wish to carry them with me when I go into the prison. You and I are Englishmen and will be able to leave Paris safely, but I have reason to believe that the travel papers for the doctor and Lucie and the child may be cancelled if we do not hurry.”
“Are they in danger?” asked Mr. Lorry.
“In great danger, sir. Just tonight, I heard Madame Defarge make plans to denounce them. But you, Mr. Lorry, can save them all!”
“I would do anything for them!”
“Have a coach ready to leave Paris at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Tell Lucie of the danger they are in and that for the sake of her child and her father, she must go with you. Tell her this was her husband’s final wish. Be in the coach with them all and keep a place for me. As soon as I arrive, pull me inside and drive away. Just be sure you have all the papers with you, so we can all leave for England. And no matter what happens, you must not change your plans.”
“You are a fine man to help them this way,” said Jarvis Lorry, taking Sidney’s hand eagerly, “I will do as you ask.”
The two men then escorted the old doctor home, and afterwards, Sidney stood in the darkened street looking up at Lucie’s lighted window. “May Heaven bless you,” he whispered. “Farewell, my love.”
While Sidney was making his plans, Charles was alone in his prison cell, writing his final letters. He reassured Lucie of his love for her and begged her to be strong for her father’s sake; he asked Dr. Manette to take care of his wife and child; and he thanked Mr. Lorry for his friendship and entrusted him with his business affairs. He never thought of Sidney Carton in his final hours.
The clock struck two. In another hour, the prisoner would be dragged to a wooden cart for the ride to the guillotine.
Suddenly the key turned in the lock, and a jailer opened the door. Sidney Carton entered the cell, and Charles jumped to his feet.
“I come with a request from Lucie,” said Sidney, “There is no time to explain. Just take off your jacket and tie and boots, and put on mine. And give me the ribbon from your hair and shake it out loose like mine.”
When Charles did not move to obey, Carton began forcing the changes on him.
“Carton, this is madness!” cried Charles, “Nobody can escape from here! You will only die with me!”
“I didn’t ask you to try to escape. Just sit here and write what I tell you to,” ordered Carton, as he forced Charles into a chair and pushed a pen into his hands.
“To whom do I address it?” asked Charles, pressing his hand to his bewildered head.
“To no one,” replied Sidney. And he stood behind Charles, his hand slowly creeping inside his shirt. “Now write this—‘If you remember the words that passed between us long ago, you will understand what I am going to doing’.”
“I smell something strange in the room,” said Charles, unable to see Sidney’s hand slowly coming out of his shirt.
“I do not smell anything,” said Sidney calmly, “Keep on writing—‘I am thankful to get the chance to prove those words I said to you so long ago—that I would lay down my life for you. I do it now eagerly, and you are to have no grief, no regret’.”
Charles’ eyes became clouded, and his fingers dropped the pen. At that moment, Sidney’s hand, wrapped around the cloth soaked with the chemist’s liquid, pressed hard against Charles’ nose, while his other hand grabbed him around the chest. For a few seconds, Charles struggled, then he lay unconscious on the ground, at the feet of the man who had come to lay down his life for him.
Sidney quickly put on Charles’ clothes and tied his hair back with the ribbon.
“Guard!” called Sidney, and John Barsad entered the cell. “Take my visitor out; he has become ill.” Then in a whisper, he added, “Carry him to his coach and take him immediately to Mr. Lorry at the place of our plans. Keep your end of the deal, Barsad, and my lips will be sealed for ever.”
Barsad carried Charles out, and Sidney was alone.
The clock struck three, and a guard entered. “Follow me, Evremonde!” he ordered, “The guillotine awaits!”
He followed the guard into a large dark cell which was badly filled with prisoness. Several prisoness had been brought there. Their arms were bound at the back. There were some who were standing. There were some who were seated. Some were crying whereas some were walking to and fro restlessly. There were some prisoness who stood still and silent, simply gazing at the ground.
Sidney was standing by the wall in one of the dark corners of the cell. After a while a young…with a beautiful face rose from the ground and came over to Sidney to talk to him. She said to Sidney, Citizen Evermonde. Do you know me? I am a poor little seamstress. I was with you in prison La force.”
“Oh yes! I recollect,” said Sidney. Both of them kept on talking for hours.
