双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第43部分

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nd　as　before；　and　in　his　mouth　there　is　a　gag……tied　so；　with　a　tight　string；　making　him　look　almost　as　if　he　laughed。'　He　suggested　it；　by　creasing　his　face　with　his　two　thumbs；　from　the　corners　of　his　mouth　to　his　ears。　‘On　the　top　of　the　gallows　is　fixed　the　knife；　blade　upwards；　with　its　point　in　the　air。　He　is　hanged　there　forty　feet　high……and　is　left　hanging；　poisoning　the　water。
They　looked　at　one　another；　as　he　used　his　blue　cap　to　wipe　his　face；　on　which　the　perspiration　had　started　afresh　while　he　recalled　the　spectacle。
‘It　is　frightful；　messieurs。　How　can　the　women　and　the　children　draw　water！　Who　can　gossip　of　an　evening；　under　that　shadow！　Under　it；　have　I　said？　When　I　left　the　village；　Monday　evening　as　the　sun　was　going　to　bed；　and　looked　back　from　the　hill；　the　shadow　struck　across　the　church；　across　the　mill；　across　the　prison……seemed　to　strike　across　the　earth；　messieurs；　to　where　the　sky　rests　upon　it！'
The　hungry　man　gnawed　one　of　his　fingers　as　he　looked　at　the　other　three；　and　his　finger　quivered　with　the　craving　that　was　on　him。
‘That's　all；　messieurs。　I　left　at　sunset　（as　I　had　been　warned　to　do）；　and　I　walked　on；　that　night　and　half　next　day；　until　I　met　（as　I　was　warned　I　should）　this　rade。　With　him；　I　came　on；　now　riding　and　now　walking；　through　the　rest　of　yesterday　and　through　last　night。　And　here　you　see　me！'
After　a　gloomy　silence；　the　first　Jacques　said；　‘Good！　You　have　acted　and　recounted　faithfully。　Will　you　wait　for　us　a　little；　outside　the　door？'
‘Very　willingly；'　said　the　mender　of　roads。　Whom　Defarge　escorted　to　the　top　of　the　stairs；　and；　leaving　seated　there；　returned。
The　three　had　risen；　and　their　heads　were　together　when　he　came　back　to　the　garret。
‘How　say　you；　Jacques？'　demanded　Number　One。　‘To　be　registered？'
‘To　be　registered；　as　doomed　to　destruction；'　returned　Defarge。
‘Magnificent！'　croaked　the　man　with　the　craving。　
‘The　chateau　and　all　the　race？'　inquired　the　first。
‘The　chateau　and　all　the　race；'　returned　Defarge。　‘Extermination。'
The　hungry　man　repeated；　in　a　rapturous　croak；　‘Magnificent！'　and　began　gnawing　another　finger。
‘Are　you　sure；'　asked　Jacques　Two；　of　Defarge；　‘that　no　embarrassment　can　arise　from　our　manner　of　keeping　the　register？　Without　doubt　it　is　safe；　for　no　one　beyond　ourselves　can　decipher　it；　but　shall　we　always　be　able　to　decipher　it　or；　I　ought　to　say；　will　she？'
‘Jacques；'　returned　Defarge；　drawing　himself　up；　‘if　madame　my　wife　undertook　to　keep　the　register　in　her　memory　alone；　she　would　not　lose　a　word　of　it……not　a　syllable　of　it。　Knitted；　in　her　own　stitches　and　her　own　symbols；　it　will　always　be　as　plain　to　her　as　the　sun。　Confide　in　Madame　Defarge。　It　would　be　easier　for　the　weakest　poltroon　that　lives；　to　erase　himself　from　existence；　than　to　erase　one　letter　of　his　name　or　crimes　from　the　knitted　register　of　Madame　Defarge。'
There　was　a　murmur　of　confidence　and　approval；　and　then　the　man　who　hungered；　asked：　‘Is　this　rustic　to　be　sent　back　soon？　I　hope　so。　He　is　very　simple；　is　he　not　a　little　dangerous？'
‘He　knows　nothing；'　said　Defarge；　‘at　least　nothing　more　than　would　easily　elevate　himself　to　gallows　of　the　same　height。　I　charge　myself　with　him；　let　him　remain　with　me；　I　will　take　care　of　him；　and　set　him　on　his　road。　He　wishes　to　see　the　fine　world……the　King；　the　Queen；　and　Court；　let　him　see　them　on　Sunday。
‘What？'　exclaimed　the　hungry　man；　staring。　‘Is　it　a　good　sign；　that　he　wishes　to　see　Royalty　and　Nobility？'
‘Jacques；'　said　Defarge；　judiciously　show　a　cat　milk；　if　you　wish　her　to　thirst　for　it。　Judiciously　show　a　dog　his　natural　prey；　if　you　wish　him　to　bring　it　down　one　day。'
Nothing　more　was　said；　and　the　mender　of　roads；　being　found　already　dozing　on　the　topmost　stair；　was　advised　to　lay　himself　down　on　the　pallet…bed　and　take　some　rest。　He　needed　no　persuasion；　and　was　soon　asleep。
Worse　quarters　than　Defarge's　wine…shop；　could　easily　have　been　found　in　Paris　for　a　provincial　slave　of　that　degree。　Saving　for　a　mysterious　dread　of　madame　by　which　he　was　constantly　haunted；　his　life　was　very　new　and　agreeable。　But；　madame　sat　all　day　at　her　counter；　so　expressly　unconscious　of　him；　and　so　particularly　determined　not　to　perceive　that　his　being　there　had　any　connexion　with　anything　below　the　surface；　that　he　shook　in　his　wooden　shoes　whenever　his　eye　lighted　on　her。　For；　he　contended　with　himself　that　it　was　impossible　to　foresee　what　that　lady　might　pretend　next；　and　he　felt　assured　that　if　she　should　take　it　into　her　brightly　ornamented　head　to　pretend　that　she　had　seen　him　do　a　murder　and　afterwards　Ray　the　victim；　she　would　infallibly　go　through　with　it　until　the　play　was　played　out。
Therefore；　when　Sunday　came；　the　mender　of　roads　was　not　enchanted　（though　he　said　he　was）　to　find　that　madame　was　to　acpany　monsieur　and　himself　to　Versailles。　It　was　additionally　disconcerting　to　have　madame　knitting　all　the　way　there；　in　a　public　conveyance；　it　was　additionally　disconcerting　yet；　to　have　madame　in　the　crowd　in　the　afternoon；　still　with　her　knitting　in　her　hands　as　the　crowd　waited　to　see　the　carriage　of　the　King　and　Queen。
‘You　work　hard；　madame；'　said　a　man　near　her。
‘Yes；'　answered　Madame　Defarge；　‘I　have　a　good　deal　to　do。'
‘What　do　you　make；　madame？'
‘Many　things。'
‘For　instance……'
‘For　instance；'　returned　Madame　Defarge；　posedly；　‘shrouds。'
The　man　moved　a　little　further　away；　as　soon　as　he　could；　and　the　mender　of　roads　fanned　himself　with　his　blue　cap：　feeling　it　mightily　close　and　oppressive。　If　he　needed　a　King　and　Queen　to　restore　him；　he　was　fortunate　in　having　his　remedy　at　hand；　for；　soon　the　large…faced　King　and　the　fair…faced　Queen　came　in　their　golden　coach；　attended　by　the　shining　Bull's　Eye　of　their　Court；　a　glittering　multitude　of　laughing　ladies　and　fine　lords；　and　in　jewels　and　silks　and　powder　and　splendour　and　elegantly　spurning　figures　and　handsomely　disdainful　faces　of　both　sexes；　the　mender　of　roads　bathed　himself；　so　much　to　his　temporary　intoxication；　that　he　cried　Long　live　the　King；　Long　live　the　Queen；　Long　live　everybody　and　everything！　as　if　he　had　never　heard　of　ubiquitous　Jacques　in　his　time。　Then；　there　were　gardens；　courtyards；　terraces；　fountains；　green　banks；　more　King　and　Queen；　more　Bull's　Eye；　more　lords　and　ladies；　more　Long　live　they　all！　until　he　absolutely　wept　with　sentiment。　During　the　whole　of　this　scene；　which　lasted　some　three　hours；　he　had　plenty　of　shouting　and　weeping　and　sentimental　pany；　and　I　throughout　Defarge　held　him　by　the　collar；　as　if　to　restrain　him　from　flying　at　the　objects　of　his　brief　devotion　and　tearing　them　pieces。
‘Bravo'　said　Defarge；　clapping　him　on　the　back　when　it　was　Over；　like　a　patron；　‘you　are　a　good　boy！'
The　mender　of　roads　was　now　ing　to　himself；　and　was　mistrustful　of　having　made　a　mistake　in　his　late　demonstrations；　but　no。
‘You　are　the　fellow　we　want；'　said　Defarge；　in　his　ear；　‘you　make　these　fools　believe　that　it　will　last　for　ever。　Then；　they　are　the　more　insolent；　and　it　is　the　nearer　ended。'
‘Hey！'　cried　the　mender　of　roads；　reflectively；　‘that's　true。'　‘These　fools　know　nothing。　While　they　despise　your　breath；　and　would　stop　it　for　ever　and　ever；　in　you　or　in　a　hundred　like　you　rather　than　in　one　of　their　own　horses　or　dogs；　they　only　know　what　your　breath　tells　them。　Let　it　deceive　them；　then；　a　little　longer；　it　cannot　deceive　them　too　much。'
Madame　Defarge　looked　superciliously　at　the　client；　and　nodded　in　confirmation。
‘As　to　you；'　said　she；　‘you　would　shout　and　shed　tears　for　anything；　if　it　made　a　show　and　a　noise。　Say！　Would　you　not？'
‘Truly；　madame；　I　think　so。　For　the　moment。'
‘If　you　were　shown　a　great　heap　of　dolls；　and　were　set　upon　them　to　pluck　them　to　pieces　and　despoil　them　for　your　own　advantage；　you　would　pick　out　the　richest　and　gayest。　Say！　Would　you　not？'
‘Truly　yes；　madame。'
‘Yes。　And　if　you　were　shown　a　flock　of　birds；　unable　to　fly；　and　were　set　upon　them　to　strip　them　of　their　feathers　for　your　own　advantage；　you　would　set　upon　the　birds　of　the　finest　feathers；　would　you　not？'
‘It　is　true；　madame。'
‘You　have　seen　both　dolls　and　birds　today；'　said　Madame　Defarge；　with　a　wave　of　her　hand　towards　the　place　where　they　had　last　been　apparent；　‘now；　go　home！'　
CHAPTER　XVI
Still　knittin