双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第10部分

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able　and　hopeless　mass　of　deposition　so　engendered；　would　have　polluted　the　air；　even　if　poverty　and　deprivation　had　not　loaded　it　wit！'　their　intangible　impurities；　the　Mo　bad　sources　bined　made　it　almost　insupportable。　Through　such　an　atmosphere；　by　a　steep　dark　shaft　of　dirt　and　poison；　the　way　lay。　Yielding　to　his　own　disturbance　of　mind；　and　to　his　young　panion's　agitation；　which　became　greater　every　instant；　Mr。　Jarvis　Lorry　twice　stopped　to　rest。　Each　of　these　stoppages　was　made　at　a　doleful　grating；　by　which　any　languishing　good　airs　that　were　left　uncorrupted　seemed　to　escape；　and　all　spoilt　and　sickly　vapours　seemed　to　crawl　in。　Through　the　rusted　bars；　tastes；　rather　than　glimpses；　were　caught　of　the　jumbled　neighbourhood；　and　nothing　within　range；　nearer　or　lower　than　the　summits　of　the　two…great　towers　of　Notre…Dame；　had　any　promise　on　it　of　healthy　life　or　wholesome　aspirations。
At　last；　the　top　of　the　staircase　was　gained；　and　they　stopped　for　the　third　time。　There　was　yet　an　upper　staircase；　of　a　steeper　inclination　and　of　contracted　dimensions；　to　be　ascended；　before　the　garret　story　was　reached。　The　keeper　of　the　wine…shop；　always　going　a　little　in　advance；　and　always　going　on　the　side　which　Mr。　Lorry　took；　as　though　he　dreaded　to　be　asked　any　question　by　the　young　lady；　turned　himself　about　here；　and；　carefully　feeling　in　the　pockets　of　the　coat　he　carried　over　his　shoulder；　took　out　a　key。
‘The　door　is　locked　then；　my　friend？'　said　Mr。　Lorry'；　surprised。
‘Ay。　Yes；'　was　the　grim　reply　of　Monsieur　Defarge。
‘You　think　it　necessary　to　keep　the　unfortunate　gentleman　so　retired？'
‘I　think　it　necessary　to　turn　the　key。'　Monsieur　Defarge　whispered　it　closer　in　his　ear；　and　frowned　heavily。
‘Why？'
‘Why！　Because　he　has　lived　so　long；　locked　up；　that　he　would　be　frightened……rave……tear　himself　to　pieces……die……e　to　I　know　not　what　harm…if　his　door　was　left　open。'
‘Is　it　possible？'　exclaimed　Mr。　Lorry。
‘Is　it　possible？'　repeated　Defarge；　bitterly。　‘Yes。　And　a　beautiful　world　we　live　in；　when　it　is　possible；　and　when　many　other　such　things　are　possible；　and　not　only　possible；　but　done……done；　see　you！……under　that　sky　there；　every　day。　Long　live　the　Devil。　Let　us　go　on。'
This　dialogue　had　been　held　in　so　very　low　a　whisper；　that　not　a　word　of　it　had　reached　the　young　lady's　ears。　But；　by　this　time　she　trembled　under　such　strong　emotion；　and　her　face　expressed　such　deep　anxiety；　and；　above　all；　such　dread　and　terror；　that　Mr。　Lorry　felt　it　incumbent　on　him　to　speak　a　word　or　two　of　reassurance。
‘Courage；　dear　miss！　Courage！　Business！　The　worst　will　be　over　in　a　moment；　it　is　but　passing　the　room…door；　and　the　worst　is　over。　Then；　all　the　good　you　bring　to　him；　all　the　relief；　all　the　happiness　you　bring　to　him；　begin。　Let　our　good　friend　here；　assist　you　on　that　side。　That's　well；　friend　Defarge。　e；　now。　Business；　business！'
They　went　up　slowly　and　softly。　The　staircase　was　short；　and　they　were　soon　at　the　top。　There；　as　it　had　an　abrupt　turn　in　it；　they　came　all　at　once　in　sight　of　three　men；　whose　heads　were　bent　down　close　together　at　the　side　of　a　door；　and　who　were　intently　looking　into　the　room　to　which　the　door　belonged；　through　some　chinks　or　holes　in　the　wall。　On　hearing　footsteps　close　at　hand；　these　three　turned；　and　rose；　and　showed　themselves　to　be　the　three　of　one　name　who　had　been　drinking　in　the　wine…shop。
‘I　forgot　them　in　the　surprise　of　your　visit；'　explained　Monsieur　Defarge。　‘Leave　us；　good　boys；　we　have　business'　here。'
The　three　glided　by；　and　went　silently　down。
There　appearing　to　be　no　other　door　on　that　floor；　and　the　keeper　of　the　wine…shop　going　straight　to　this　one　when　they　were　left　alone；　Mr。　Lorry　asked　him　in　a　whisper；　with　little　anger：
‘Do　you　make　a　show　of　Monsieur　Manette？'
‘I　show　him；　in　the　way　you　have　seen；　to　a　chosen　few。'
‘Is　that　well？'
‘I　think　it　is　well。'
‘Who　are　the　few？　How　do　you　choose　them？'
‘I　choose　them　as　real　men；　of　my　name……Jacques　is　my　name……to　whom　the　sight　is　likely　to　do　good。　Enough　you　are　English；　that　is　another　thing。　Stay　there；　if　you　please；　a　little　moment。'
With　an　admonitory　gesture　to　keep　them　back；　he　stooped；　and　looked　in　through　the　crevice　in　the　wall。　Soon　raising　his　head　again；　he　struck　twice　or　thrice　upon　the　door……evidently　with　no　other　object　than　to　make　a　noise　there　With　the　same　intention；　he　drew　the　key　across　it；　three　or　four　times；　before　he　put　it　clumsily　into　the　lock；　and　turned　it　as　heavily　as　he　could。
The　door　slowly　opened　inward　under　his　hand；　and　he　looked　into　the　room　and　said　something。　A　faint　voice　answered　something。　Little　more　than　a　single　syllable　could　have　been　spoken　on　either　side。
He　looked　back　over　his　shoulder；　and　beckoned　them　cc　enter。　Mr。　Lorry　got　his　arm　securely　round　the　daughter　waist；　and　held　her；　for　he　felt　that　she　was　sinking。
‘A……a……a……business；　business！'　he　urged；　with　a　moisture　that　was　not　of　business　shining　on　his　cheek。　‘e　in　e　in！'
‘I　am　afraid　of　it；'　she　answered；　shuddering。
‘Of　it？　What？'
‘I　mean　of　him。　Of　my　father。'
Rendered　in　a　manner　desperate；　by　her　state　and　by　the　beckoning　of　their　conductor；　he　drew　over　his　neck　the　arm　that　shook　upon　his　shoulder；　lifted　her　a　little；　and　hurried　her　into　the　room。　He　set　her　down　just　within　the　door　and　held　her；　clinging　to　him。
Defarge　drew　out　the　key；　closed　the　door；　locked　it　on　the　inside；　took　out　the　key　again；　and　held　it　in　his　hand。　All　this　he　did；　methodically；　and　with　as　loud　and　harsh　an　acpaniment　of　noise　as　he　could　make。　Finally；　he　walked　across　the　room　with　a　measured　tread　to　where　the　window　was。　He　stopped　there；　and　faced　round。
The　garret；　built　to　be　a　depository　for　firewood　and　the　like；　was　dim　and　dark：　for　the　window　of　dormer　shape；　was　in　truth　a　door　in　the　roof；　with　a　little　crane　over　it　for　the　hoisting　up　of　stores　from　the　street：　unglazed；　anal　closing　up　the　middle　in　two　pieces；　like　any　other　door　of　French　construction。　To　exclude　the　cold；　one　half　of　thin　door　was　fast　closed；　and　the　other　was　opened　but　a　very　little　way。　Such　a　scanty　portion　of　light　was　admitted　through　these　means；　that　it　was　difficult；　on　first　ing　in；　to　see　anything；　and　long　habit　alone　could　have　slowly　formed　in　any　one；　the　ability　to　do　any　work　requiring　nicety　in　such　obscurity。　Yet；　work　of　that　kind　was　being　done　in　the　garret；　for；　with　his　back　towards　the　door；　and　his　face　towards　the　window　where　the　keeper　of　the　wine…shop　stood　looking　at　him；　a　white…haired　man　sat　on　a　low　bench；　stooping　forward　and　very　busy；　making　shoes。
CHAPTER　VI
The　Shoemaker
‘GOOD　DAY！'　said　Monsieur　Defarge；　looking　down　at　he　white　head　that　bent　low　over　the　shoemaking。
It　was　raised　for　a　moment；　and　a　very　faint　voice　responded　to　the　salutation；　as　if　it　were　at　a　distance：
‘Good　day！'
‘You　are　still　hard　at　work；　I　see？'
After　a　long　silence；　the　head　was　lifted　for　another　moment；　and　the　voice　replied；　‘Yes……I　am　working。'　This　time；　a　pair　of　haggard　eyes　had　looked　at　the　questioner；　before　the　face　had　dropped　again。
The　faintness　of　the　voice　was　pitiable　and　dreadful。　It　was　not　the　faintness　of　physical　weakness；　though　confinement　and　hard　fare　no　doubt　had　their　part　in　it。　Its　deplorable　peculiarity　was；　that　it　was　the　faintness　of　solitude　and　disuse。　It　was　like　the　last　feeble　echo　of　a　sound　made　long　and　long　ago。　So　entirely　had　it　lost　the　life　and　resonance　of　the　human　voice；　that　it　affected　the　senses　like　a　once　beautiful　colour　faded　away　into　a　poor　weak　stain。　So　sunken　and　suppressed　it　was；　that　it　was　like　a　voice　under…ground。　So　expressive　it　was；　of　a　hopeless　and　lost　creature；　that　a　famished　traveller；　wearied　Out　by　lonely　wandering　in　a　wilderness；　would　have　remembered　home　and　friends　in　such　a　tone　before　lying　down　to　die。
Some　minutes　of　silent　work　had　passed：　and　the　haggard　eyes　had　looked　up　again：　not　with　any　interest　or　curiosity；　but　with　a　dull　mechanical　perception；　beforehand；　that　the　spot　where　the　only　visitor　they　were　aware　of　had　stood；　was　not　yet　empty。
‘I　want；'　said　Defarge；　who　had　not　removed　his　gaze　from　the　shoemaker；　‘to　let　in　a　little　more　light　here。　You　can　bear　a　little　more？'
T