双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第26部分

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Lighter　and　lighter；　until　at　last　the　sun　touched　the　tops　of　the　still　trees；　and　poured　its　radiance　over　the　hill。　In　the　glow；　the　water　of　the　chaateau　fountain　seemed　to　turn　to　blood；　and　the　stone　faces　crimsoned。　The　carol　of　the　birds　was　loud　and　high；　and；　on　the　weather…beaten　sill　of　the　great　window　of　the　bedchamber　of　Monsieur　the　Marquis；　one　little　bird　sang　its　sweetest　song　with　all　its　might。　At　this；　the　nearest　stone　face　seemed　to　stare　amazed；　and；　with　opened　mouth　and　dropped　under…jaw；　looked　awe…stricken。　
Now；　the　sun　was　full　up；　and　movement　began　in　the　village。　Casement　windows　opened；　crazy　doors　were　unbarred；　and　people　came　forth　shivering……chilled；　as　yet；　by　the　new　sweet　air。　Then　began　the　rarely　lightened　toil　of　the　day　among　the　village　population。　Some；　to　the　fountain；　some；　to　the　fields；　men　and　women　here；　to　dig　and　delve；　men　and　women　there；　to　see　to　the　poor　live　stock；　and　lead　the　bony　cows　out；　to　such　pasture　as　could　be　found　by　the　roadside。　In　the　church　and　at　the　Cross；　a　kneeling　figure　or　two；　attendant　on　the　latter　prayers；　the　led　cow；　trying　for　a　breakfast　among　the　weeds　at　its　foot。
The　chaateau　awoke　later；　as　became　its　quality；　but　awoke　gradually　and　surely。　First；　the　lonely　boar…spears　and　knives　of　the　chase　had　been　reddened　as　of　old；　then；　had　gleamed　trenchant　in　the　morning　sunshine；　now；　doors　and　windows　were　thrown　open；　horses　in　their　stables　looked　round　over　their　shoulders　at　the　light　and　freshness　pouring　in　at　door＋ways；　leaves　sparkled　and　rustled　at　iron…grated　windows；　dogs　pulled　hard　at　their　chains；　and　reared　impatient　to　be　loosed。
All　these　trivial　incidents　belonged　to　the　routine　of　life；　and　the　return　of　morning。　Surely；　not　so　the　ringing　of　the　great　hell　of　the　chaateau；　nor　the　running　up　and　down　the　stairs；　nor　the　hurried　figures　on　the　terrace；　nor　the　booting　and　tramping　here　and　there　and　everywhere；　nor　the　quick　saddling　of　horses　and　riding　away？
What　winds　conveyed　this　hurry　to　the　grizzled　mender　of　roads；　already　at　work　on　the　hill…top　beyond　the　village；　with　his　day's　dinner　（not　much　to　carry）　lying　in　a　bundle　that　it　was　worth　no　crow's　while　to　peck　at；　on　a　heap　of　stones？　Had　the　birds；　carrying　some　grains　of　it　to　a　distance；　dropped　one　over　him　as　they　sow　chance　seeds？　Whether　or　no；　the　mender　of　roads　ran；　on　the　sultry　morning；　as　if　for　his　life；　down　the　hill；　knee…high　in　dust；　and　never　stopped　till　he　got　to　the　fountain。
All　the　people　of　the　village　were　at　the　fountain；　standing　about　in　their　depressed　manner；　and　whispering　low；　but　showing　no　other　emotions　than　grim　curiosity　and　surprise。　The　led　cows；　hastily　brought　in　and　tethered　to　anything　that　would　hold　them；　were　looking　stupidly　on；　or　lying　down　chewing　the　cud　of　nothing　particularly　repaying　their　trouble；　which　they　had　picked　up　in　their　interrupted　saunter。　Some　of　the　people　of　the　chaateau；　and　some　of　those　of　the　posting…house；　and　all　the　taxing　authorities；　were　armed　more　or　less；　and　were　crowded　on　the　other　side　of　the　little　street　in　a　purposeless　way；　that　was　highly　fraught　with　nothing。　Already；　the　mender　of　roads　had　penetrated　into　the　midst　of　a　group　of　fifty　particular　friends；　and　was　smiting　himself　in　the　breast　with　his　blue　cap。　What　did　all　this　portend；　and　what　portended　the　swift　hoisting…up　of　Monsieur　Gabelle　behind　a　servant　on　horseback；　and　the　conveying　away　of　the　said　Gabelle　（double…laden　though　the　horse　was）；　at　a　gallop；　like　a　new　version　of　the　German　ballad　of　Leonora？
It　portended　that　there　was　one　stone　face　too　many；　up　at　the　chaateau。
The　Gorgon　had　surveyed　the　building　again　in　the　night；　and　had　added　the　one　stone　face　wanting；　the　stone　face　for　which　it　had　waited　through　about　two　hundred　years。
It　lay　back　on　the　pillow　of　Monsieur　the　Marquis。　It　was　like　a　fine　mask；　suddenly　startled；　made　angry；　and　petrified。　Driven　home　into　the　heart　of　the　stone　figure　attached　to　it；　was　a　knife。　Round　its　hilt　was　a　frill　of　paper；　on　which　was　scrawled：
‘Drive　him　fast　to　his　tomb。　This；　from　JACQUES。'　
CHAPTER　X
Two　Promises
MORE　months；　to　the　number　of　twelve；　had　e　and　gone；　and　Mr。　Charles　Darnay　was　established　in　England　as　a　higher　teacher　of　the　French　language　who　was　conversant　with　French　literature。　In　this　age；　he　would　have　been　a　Professor；　in　that　age；　he　was　a　Tutor。　He　read　with　young　men　who　could　find　any　leisure　and　interest　for　the　study　of　a　living　tongue　spoken　all　over　the　world；　and　he　cultivated　a　taste　for　its　stores　of　knowledge　and　fancy。　He　could　write　of　them；　besides；　in　sound　English；　and　render　them　into　sound　English。　Such　masters　were　not　at　that　time　easily　found；　Princes　that　had　been；　and　Kings　that　were　to　be；　were　not　yet　of　the　Teacher　class；　and　no　ruined　nobility　had　dropped　out　of　Tellson's　ledgers；　to　turn　cooks　and　carpenters。　As　a　tutor；　whose　attainments　made　the　student's　way　unusually　pleasant　and　profitable；　and　as　an　elegant　translator　who　brought　something　to　his　work　besides　mere　dictionary　knowledge；　young　Mr。　Darnay　soon　became　known　and　encouraged。　He　was　well　acquainted；　moreover；　with　the　circumstances　of　his　country；　and　those　were　of　ever…growing　interest。　So；　with　great　perseverance　and　untiring　industry；　he　prospered。
In　London；　he　had　expected　neither　to　walk　on　pavements　of　gold；　nor　to　lie　on　beds　of　roses：　if　he　had　had　any　such　exalted　expectation；　he　would　not　have　prospered。　He　had　expected　labour；　and　he　found　it；　and　did　it；　and　made　the　best　of　it。　In　this；　his　prosperity　consisted。　
A　certain　portion　of　his　time　was　passed　at　Cambridge；　where　he　read　with　undergraduates　as　a　sort　of　tolerated　smuggler　who　drove　a　contraband　trade　in　European　languages；　instead　of　conveying　Greek　and　Latin　through　the　Custom…house。　The　rest　of　his　time　he　passed　in　London。
Now；　from　the　days　when　it　was　always　summer　in　Eden；　to　these　days　when　it　is　mostly　winter　in　fallen　latitudes；　the　world　of　a　man　has　invariably　gone　one　way……Charles　Darnay's　way……the　way　of　the　love　of　a　woman。
He　had　loved　Lucie　Manette　from　the　hour　of　his　danger。　He　had　never　heard　a　sound　so　sweet　and　dear　as　the　sound　of　her　passionate　voice；　he　had　never　seen　a　face　so　tenderly　beautiful；　as　hers　when　it　was　confronted　with　his　own　on　the　edge　of　the　grave　that　had　been　dug　for　him。　But；　he　had　not　yet　spoken　to　her　on　the　subject；　the　assassination　at　the　deserted　chaateau　far　away　beyond　the　heaving　water　and　the　long；　long；　dusty　roads……the　solid　stone　chaateau　which　had　itself　bee　the　mere　mist　of　a　dream……had　been　done　a　year；　and　he　had　never　yet；　by　so　much　as　a　single　spoken　word；　disclosed　to　her　the　state　of　his　heart。
That　he　had　his　reasons　for　this；　he　knew　full　well。　It　was　again　a　summer　day　when；　lately　arrived　in　London　from　his　college　occupation；　he　turned　into　the　quiet　corner　in　Soho；　bent　on　seeking　an　opportunity　of　opening　his　mind　to　Doctor　Manette。　It　was　the　close　of　the　summer　day；　and　he　knew　Lucie　to　be　out　with　Miss　Pross。
He　found　the　Doctor　reading　in　his　arm…chair　at　a　window。　The　energy　which　had　at　once　supported　him　under　his　old　sufferings　and　aggravated　their　sharpness；　had　been　gradually　restored　to　him。　He　was　now　a　very　energetic　man　indeed　with　great　firmness　of　purpose；　strength　of　resolution；　and　vigour　of　action。　In　his　recovered　energy　he　was　sometimes　a　little　fitful　and　sudden；　as　he　had　at　first　been　in　the　exercise　of　his　other　recovered　faculties；　but；　this　had　never　been　frequently　observable；　and　had　grown　more　and　more　rare。
He　studied　much；　slept　little；　sustained　a　great　deal　of　fatigue　with　ease；　and　was　equably　cheerful。　To　him；　now　entered　Charles　Darnay；　at　sight　of　whom　he　laid　aside　his　book　and　held　out　his　hand。
‘Charles　Darnay！　I　rejoice　to　see　you。　We　have　been　counting　on　your　return　these　three　or　four　days　past。　Mr。　Stryver　and　Sydney　Carton　were　both　here　yesterday；　and　both　made　you　out　to　be　more　than　due。
‘I　am　obliged　to　them　for　their　interest　in　the　matter；'　he　answered；　a　little　coldly　as　to　chem；　though　very　warmly　as　to　the　Doctor。　‘Miss　Manette………'
‘Is　well；'　said　the　Doctor；　as　he　stopped　short；　‘and　your　return　will　delight　us　all。　She　has　gone　out　on　some　household　matters；　but　will　soon　be　home。'
‘Doctor　Manette；　I　knew　she　was　from　home。　I　took　the　opportunity　of　her　being　from　home；　to　beg　to　speak　to　you。'
There　was　a　blank　silence。
‘Yes？'　said　the　Doctor；　with　evident　constraint。　‘Bring　your　chair　here；　and　speak　on。'　
He　plied　as　to　the　chair；　but　appeared　to　find　the　speaking　on　less　easy。
‘I　have　had　the　happiness；　Doctor　Manette；　of　being　so　intimate　here；'　so　he　at　length　began；　‘for　some　year　and　a　half；　that　I　hope　the　topic　on　which　I　am　about　to　touch　may　not………'
He　was　stayed　by　the　Doctor's　putting　out　his　hand　to　stop　him。　When　he　had　kept　it　so　a　little　while；　he　said；　drawing　it　back：
‘Is　Lucie　the　topic？'
‘She　is。'
‘It　is　hard　for　me　to　speak　of　her　at　any　time。　It　is　very　hard　for　me　to　hear　her　spoken　of　in　that　tone　of　yours；　Charles　Darnay。'
‘It　is　a　tone　of　fervent　admiration；　true　homage；　and　deep　love；　Doctor　Manette！'　he　said　deferentially。
There　was　another　blank　silence　before　her　father　rejoined：　‘I　believe　it。　I　do　you　justice；　I　believe　it。'
His　constraint　was　so　manifest；　and　it　was　so　manifest；　too；　that　it　originated　in　an　unwillingness　to　approach　the　subject；　that　Charles　Darnay　hesitated。
‘Shall　I　go　on；　sir？'
Another　blank。
‘Yes；　go　on。'
‘You　anticipate　what　I　would　say；　though　you　cannot　know　how　earnestly　I　say　it；　how　earnestly　I　feel　it；　without　knowing　my　secret　heart；　and　the　hopes　and　fears　and　anxieties　with　which　it　has　long　been　laden。　Dear　Doctor　Manette；　I　love　your　daughter　fondly；　dearly；　disinterestedly；　devotedly。　If　ever　there　were　love　in　the　world；　I　love　her。　You　have　loved　yourself；　let　your　old　love　speak　for　me！'
The　Doctor　sat　with　his　face　turned　away；　and　his　eyes　bent　on　the　ground。　At　the　last　words；　he　stretched　out　his　hand　again；　hurriedly；　and　cried：
‘Not　that；　sir！　Let　that　be！　I　adjure　you；　do　not　recall　that！'
His　cry　was　so　like　a　cry　of　actual　pain；　that　it　rang　in　Charles　Darnay's　ears　long　after　he　had　ceased。　He　motioned　with　the