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1"I perceive your tongue is," returned madame; "and what the tongue is, I suppose the man is." He did not take the
2identification as a compliment; but he made the best of it, and turned it off with a laugh. After sipping his cognac to
3the end, he added: "Yes, Miss Manette is going to be married. But not to an Englishman; to one who, like herself, is
4French by birth. And speaking of Gaspard (ah, poor Gaspard! It was cruel, cruel!), it is a curious thing that she is
5going to marry the nephew of Monsieur the Marquis, for whom Gaspard was exalted to that height of so many feet; in other
6words, the present Marquis. But he lives unknown in England, he is no Marquis there; he is Mr. Charles Darnay. D'Aulnais
7is the name of his mother's family." Madame Defarge knitted steadily, but the intelligence had a palpable effect upon
8her husband. Do what he would, behind the little counter, as to the striking of a light and the lighting of his pipe, he
9was troubled, and his hand was not trustworthy. The spy would have been no spy if he had failed to see it, or to record
10it in his mind. Having made, at least, this one hit, whatever it might prove to be worth, and no customers coming in to
11help him to any other, Mr. Barsad paid for what he had drunk, and took his leave: taking occasion to say, in a genteel
12manner, before he departed, that he looked forward to the pleasure of seeing Monsieur and Madame Defarge again. For some
13minutes after he had emerged into the outer presence of Saint Antoine, the husband and wife remained exactly as he had
14left them, lest he should come back. "Can it be true," said Defarge, in a low voice, looking down at his wife as he
15stood smoking with his hand on the back of her chair: "what he has said of Ma'amselle Manette?" "As he has said it,"
16returned madame, lifting her eyebrows a little, "it is probably false. But it may be true." "If it is--" Defarge began,
17and stopped. "If it is?" repeated his wife. "--And if it does come, while we live to see it triumph--I hope, for her
18sake, Destiny will keep her husband out of France." "Her husband's destiny," said Madame Defarge, with her usual
19composure, "will take him where he is to go, and will lead him to the end that is to end him. That is all I know." "But
20it is very strange--now, at least, is it not very strange"--said Defarge, rather pleading with his wife to induce her to
21admit it, "that, after all our sympathy for Monsieur her father, and herself, her husband's name should be proscribed
22under your hand at this moment, by the side of that infernal dog's who has just left us?" "Stranger things than that
23will happen when it does come," answered madame. "I have them both here, of a certainty; and they are both here for
24their merits; that is enough." She rolled up her knitting when she had said those words, and presently took the rose out
25of the handkerchief that was wound about her head. Either Saint Antoine had an instinctive sense that the objectionable
26decoration was gone, or Saint Antoine was on the watch for its disappearance; howbeit, the Saint took courage to lounge
27in, very shortly afterwards, and the wine-shop recovered its habitual aspect. In the evening, at which season of all
28others Saint Antoine turned himself inside out, and sat on door-steps and window-ledges, and came to the corners of vile
29streets and courts, for a breath of air, Madame Defarge with her work in her hand was accustomed to pass from place to
30place and from group to group: a Missionary--there were many like her--such as the world will do well never to breed
31again. All the women knitted. They knitted worthless things; but, the mechanical work was a mechanical substitute for
32eating and drinking; the hands moved for the jaws and the digestive apparatus: if the bony fingers had been still, the
33stomachs would have been more famine-pinched. But, as the fingers went, the eyes went, and the thoughts. And as Madame
34Defarge moved on from group to group, all three went quicker and fiercer among every little knot of women that she had
35spoken with, and left behind. Her husband smoked at his door, looking after her with admiration. "A great woman," said
36he, "a strong woman, a grand woman, a frightfully grand woman!" Darkness closed around, and then came the ringing of
37church bells and the distant beating of the military drums in the Palace Courtyard, as the women sat knitting, knitting.
38Darkness encompassed them. Another darkness was closing in as surely, when the church bells, then ringing pleasantly in
39many an airy steeple over France, should be melted into thundering cannon; when the military drums should be beating to
40drown a wretched voice, that night all potent as the voice of Power and Plenty, Freedom and Life. So much was closing in
41about the women who sat knitting, knitting, that they their very selves were closing in around a structure yet unbuilt,
42where they were to sit knitting, knitting, counting dropping heads.
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