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1The Sea Still Rises Haggard Saint Antoine had had only one exultant week, in which to soften his modicum of hard and
2bitter bread to such extent as he could, with the relish of fraternal embraces and congratulations, when Madame Defarge
3sat at her counter, as usual, presiding over the customers. Madame Defarge wore no rose in her head, for the great
4brotherhood of Spies had become, even in one short week, extremely chary of trusting themselves to the saint's mercies.
5The lamps across his streets had a portentously elastic swing with them. Madame Defarge, with her arms folded, sat in
6the morning light and heat, contemplating the wine-shop and the street. In both, there were several knots of loungers,
7squalid and miserable, but now with a manifest sense of power enthroned on their distress. The raggedest nightcap, awry
8on the wretchedest head, had this crooked significance in it: "I know how hard it has grown for me, the wearer of this,
9to support life in myself; but do you know how easy it has grown for me, the wearer of this, to destroy life in you?"
10Every lean bare arm, that had been without work before, had this work always ready for it now, that it could strike. The
11fingers of the knitting women were vicious, with the experience that they could tear. There was a change in the
12appearance of Saint Antoine; the image had been hammering into this for hundreds of years, and the last finishing blows
13had told mightily on the expression. Madame Defarge sat observing it, with such suppressed approval as was to be desired
14in the leader of the Saint Antoine women. One of her sisterhood knitted beside her. The short, rather plump wife of a
15starved grocer, and the mother of two children withal, this lieutenant had already earned the complimentary name of The
16Vengeance. "Hark!" said The Vengeance. "Listen, then! Who comes?" As if a train of powder laid from the outermost bound
17of Saint Antoine Quarter to the wine-shop door, had been suddenly fired, a fast-spreading murmur came rushing along. "It
18is Defarge," said madame. "Silence, patriots!" Defarge came in breathless, pulled off a red cap he wore, and looked
19around him! "Listen, everywhere!" said madame again. "Listen to him!" Defarge stood, panting, against a background of
20eager eyes and open mouths, formed outside the door; all those within the wine-shop had sprung to their feet. "Say then,
21my husband. What is it?" "News from the other world!" "How, then?" cried madame, contemptuously. "The other world?"
22"Does everybody here recall old Foulon, who told the famished people that they might eat grass, and who died, and went
23to Hell?" "Everybody!" from all throats. "The news is of him. He is among us!" "Among us!" from the universal throat
24again. "And dead?" "Not dead! He feared us so much--and with reason--that he caused himself to be represented as dead,
25and had a grand mock-funeral. But they have found him alive, hiding in the country, and have brought him in. I have seen
26him but now, on his way to the Hotel de Ville, a prisoner. I have said that he had reason to fear us. Say all! Had he
27reason?" Wretched old sinner of more than threescore years and ten, if he had never known it yet, he would have known it
28in his heart of hearts if he could have heard the answering cry. A moment of profound silence followed. Defarge and his
29wife looked steadfastly at one another. The Vengeance stooped, and the jar of a drum was heard as she moved it at her
30feet behind the counter. "Patriots!" said Defarge, in a determined voice, "are we ready?" Instantly Madame Defarge's
31knife was in her girdle; the drum was beating in the streets, as if it and a drummer had flown together by magic; and
32The Vengeance, uttering terrific shrieks, and flinging her arms about her head like all the forty Furies at once, was
33tearing from house to house, rousing the women. The men were terrible, in the bloody-minded anger with which they looked
34from windows, caught up what arms they had, and came pouring down into the streets; but, the women were a sight to chill
35the boldest. From such household occupations as their bare poverty yielded, from their children, from their aged and
36their sick crouching on the bare ground famished and naked, they ran out with streaming hair, urging one another, and
37themselves, to madness with the wildest cries and actions. Villain Foulon taken, my sister! Old Foulon taken, my mother!
38Miscreant Foulon taken, my daughter! Then, a score of others ran into the midst of these, beating their breasts, tearing
39their hair, and screaming, Foulon alive! Foulon who told the starving people they might eat grass! Foulon who told my
40old father that he might eat grass, when I had no bread to give him! Foulon who told my baby it might suck grass, when
41these breasts were dry with want! O mother of God, this Foulon! O Heaven our suffering! Hear me, my dead baby and my
42withered father: I swear on my knees, on these stones, to avenge you on Foulon! Husbands, and brothers, and young men,
43Give us the blood of Foulon, Give us the head of Foulon, Give us the heart of Foulon, Give us the body and soul of
44Foulon, Rend Foulon to pieces, and dig him into the ground, that grass may grow from him! With these cries, numbers of
45the women, lashed into blind frenzy, whirled about, striking and tearing at their own friends until they dropped into a
46passionate swoon, and were only saved by the men belonging to them from being trampled under foot. Nevertheless, not a
47moment was lost; not a moment! This Foulon was at the Hotel de Ville, and might be loosed. Never, if Saint Antoine knew
48his own sufferings, insults, and wrongs! Armed men and women flocked out of the Quarter so fast, and drew even these
49last dregs after them with such a force of suction, that within a quarter of an hour there was not a human creature in
50Saint Antoine's bosom but a few old crones and the wailing children. No. They were all by that time choking the Hall of
51Examination where this old man, ugly and wicked, was, and overflowing into the adjacent open space and streets. The
52Defarges, husband and wife, The Vengeance, and Jacques Three, were in the first press, and at no great distance from him
53in the Hall. "See!" cried madame, pointing with her knife. "See the old villain bound with ropes. That was well done to
54tie a bunch of grass upon his back. Ha, ha! That was well done. Let him eat it now!" Madame put her knife under her arm,
55and clapped her hands as at a play. The people immediately behind Madame Defarge, explaining the cause of her
56satisfaction to those behind them, and those again explaining to others, and those to others, the neighbouring streets
57resounded with the clapping of hands. Similarly, during two or three hours of drawl, and the winnowing of many bushels
58of words, Madame Defarge's frequent expressions of impatience were taken up, with marvellous quickness, at a distance:
59the more readily, because certain men who had by some wonderful exercise of agility climbed up the external architecture
60to look in from the windows, knew Madame Defarge well, and acted as a telegraph between her and the crowd outside the
61building. At length the sun rose so high that it struck a kindly ray as of hope or protection, directly down upon the
62old prisoner's head. The favour was too much to bear; in an instant the barrier of dust and chaff that had stood
63surprisingly long, went to the winds, and Saint Antoine had got him! It was known directly, to the furthest confines of
64the crowd. Defarge had but sprung over a railing and a table, and folded the miserable wretch in a deadly
65embrace--Madame Defarge had but followed and turned her hand in one of the ropes with which he was tied--The Vengeance
66and Jacques Three were not yet up with them, and the men at the windows had not yet swooped into the Hall, like birds of
67prey from their high perches--when the cry seemed to go up, all over the city, "Bring him out! Bring him to the lamp!"
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