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1Knitting There had been earlier drinking than usual in the wine-shop of Monsieur Defarge. As early as six o'clock in the
2morning, sallow faces peeping through its barred windows had descried other faces within, bending over measures of wine.
3Monsieur Defarge sold a very thin wine at the best of times, but it would seem to have been an unusually thin wine that
4he sold at this time. A sour wine, moreover, or a souring, for its influence on the mood of those who drank it was to
5make them gloomy. No vivacious Bacchanalian flame leaped out of the pressed grape of Monsieur Defarge: but, a
6smouldering fire that burnt in the dark, lay hidden in the dregs of it. This had been the third morning in succession,
7on which there had been early drinking at the wine-shop of Monsieur Defarge. It had begun on Monday, and here was
8Wednesday come. There had been more of early brooding than drinking; for, many men had listened and whispered and slunk
9about there from the time of the opening of the door, who could not have laid a piece of money on the counter to save
10their souls. These were to the full as interested in the place, however, as if they could have commanded whole barrels
11of wine; and they glided from seat to seat, and from corner to corner, swallowing talk in lieu of drink, with greedy
12looks. Notwithstanding an unusual flow of company, the master of the wine-shop was not visible. He was not missed; for,
13nobody who crossed the threshold looked for him, nobody asked for him, nobody wondered to see only Madame Defarge in her
14seat, presiding over the distribution of wine, with a bowl of battered small coins before her, as much defaced and
15beaten out of their original impress as the small coinage of humanity from whose ragged pockets they had come. A
16suspended interest and a prevalent absence of mind, were perhaps observed by the spies who looked in at the wine-shop,
17as they looked in at every place, high and low, from the king's palace to the criminal's gaol. Games at cards
18languished, players at dominoes musingly built towers with them, drinkers drew figures on the tables with spilt drops of
19wine, Madame Defarge herself picked out the pattern on her sleeve with her toothpick, and saw and heard something
20inaudible and invisible a long way off. Thus, Saint Antoine in this vinous feature of his, until midday. It was high
21noontide, when two dusty men passed through his streets and under his swinging lamps: of whom, one was Monsieur Defarge:
22the other a mender of roads in a blue cap. All adust and athirst, the two entered the wine-shop. Their arrival had
23lighted a kind of fire in the breast of Saint Antoine, fast spreading as they came along, which stirred and flickered in
24flames of faces at most doors and windows. Yet, no one had followed them, and no man spoke when they entered the
25wine-shop, though the eyes of every man there were turned upon them. "Good day, gentlemen!" said Monsieur Defarge. It
26may have been a signal for loosening the general tongue. It elicited an answering chorus of "Good day!" "It is bad
27weather, gentlemen," said Defarge, shaking his head. Upon which, every man looked at his neighbour, and then all cast
28down their eyes and sat silent. Except one man, who got up and went out. "My wife," said Defarge aloud, addressing
29Madame Defarge: "I have travelled certain leagues with this good mender of roads, called Jacques. I met him--by
30accident--a day and half's journey out of Paris. He is a good child, this mender of roads, called Jacques. Give him to
31drink, my wife!" A second man got up and went out. Madame Defarge set wine before the mender of roads called Jacques,
32who doffed his blue cap to the company, and drank. In the breast of his blouse he carried some coarse dark bread; he ate
33of this between whiles, and sat munching and drinking near Madame Defarge's counter. A third man got up and went out.
34Defarge refreshed himself with a draught of wine--but, he took less than was given to the stranger, as being himself a
35man to whom it was no rarity--and stood waiting until the countryman had made his breakfast. He looked at no one
36present, and no one now looked at him; not even Madame Defarge, who had taken up her knitting, and was at work. "Have
37you finished your repast, friend?" he asked, in due season. "Yes, thank you." "Come, then! You shall see the apartment
38that I told you you could occupy. It will suit you to a marvel." Out of the wine-shop into the street, out of the street
39into a courtyard, out of the courtyard up a steep staircase, out of the staircase into a garret--formerly the garret
40where a white-haired man sat on a low bench, stooping forward and very busy, making shoes. No white-haired man was there
41now; but, the three men were there who had gone out of the wine-shop singly. And between them and the white-haired man
42afar off, was the one small link, that they had once looked in at him through the chinks in the wall. Defarge closed the
43door carefully, and spoke in a subdued voice: "Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques Three! This is the witness encountered
44by appointment, by me, Jacques Four. He will tell you all. Speak, Jacques Five!" The mender of roads, blue cap in hand,
45wiped his swarthy forehead with it, and said, "Where shall I commence, monsieur?" "Commence," was Monsieur Defarge's not
46unreasonable reply, "at the commencement." "I saw him then, messieurs," began the mender of roads, "a year ago this
47running summer, underneath the carriage of the Marquis, hanging by the chain. Behold the manner of it. I leaving my work
48on the road, the sun going to bed, the carriage of the Marquis slowly ascending the hill, he hanging by the chain--like
49this." Again the mender of roads went through the whole performance; in which he ought to have been perfect by that
50time, seeing that it had been the infallible resource and indispensable entertainment of his village during a whole
51year. Jacques One struck in, and asked if he had ever seen the man before? "Never," answered the mender of roads,
52recovering his perpendicular. Jacques Three demanded how he afterwards recognised him then? "By his tall figure," said
53the mender of roads, softly, and with his finger at his nose. "When Monsieur the Marquis demands that evening, 'Say,
54what is he like?' I make response, 'Tall as a spectre.'" "You should have said, short as a dwarf," returned Jacques Two.
55"But what did I know? The deed was not then accomplished, neither did he confide in me. Observe! Under those
56circumstances even, I do not offer my testimony. Monsieur the Marquis indicates me with his finger, standing near our
57little fountain, and says, 'To me! Bring that rascal!' My faith, messieurs, I offer nothing." "He is right there,
58Jacques," murmured Defarge, to him who had interrupted. "Go on!" "Good!" said the mender of roads, with an air of
59mystery. "The tall man is lost, and he is sought--how many months? Nine, ten, eleven?" "No matter, the number," said
60Defarge. "He is well hidden, but at last he is unluckily found. Go on!" "I am again at work upon the hill-side, and the
61sun is again about to go to bed. I am collecting my tools to descend to my cottage down in the village below, where it
62is already dark, when I raise my eyes, and see coming over the hill six soldiers. In the midst of them is a tall man
63with his arms bound--tied to his sides--like this!" With the aid of his indispensable cap, he represented a man with his
64elbows bound fast at his hips, with cords that were knotted behind him.
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