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that I have thought of nothing but the number of horizontal lines Icould draw across her at the full, and the number of perpendicular lineswith which I could intersect them.” He added in his inward and ponderingmanner, as he looked at the moon, “It was twenty either way, I remember,and the twentieth was difficult to squeeze in.”The strange thrill with which she heard him go back to that time,deepened as he dwelt upon it; but, there was nothing to shock her inthe manner of his reference. He only seemed to contrast his presentcheerfulness and felicity with the dire endurance that was over.“I have looked at her, speculating thousands of times upon the unbornchild from whom I had been rent. Whether it was alive. Whether it hadbeen born alive, or the poor mother’s shock had killed it. Whether itwas a son who would some day avenge his father. (There was a time in my | 1Dickens |
the echoes about which you have your theory.”“Not a theory; it was a fancy.”“A fancy, then, my wise pet,” said Mr. Lorry, patting her hand. “Theyare very numerous and very loud, though, are they not? Only hear them!”Headlong, mad, and dangerous footsteps to force their way into anybody’slife, footsteps not easily made clean again if once stained red, thefootsteps raging in Saint Antoine afar off, as the little circle sat inthe dark London window.Saint Antoine had been, that morning, a vast dusky mass of scarecrowsheaving to and fro, with frequent gleams of light above the billowyheads, where steel blades and bayonets shone in the sun. A tremendousroar arose from the throat of Saint Antoine, and a forest of naked armsstruggled in the air like shrivelled branches of trees in a winter wind:all the fingers convulsively clutching at every weapon or semblance of aweapon that was thrown up from the depths below, no matter how far off. | 1Dickens |
a means of angering the blood, bewildering the senses, and steeling theheart. Such grace as was visible in it, made it the uglier, showing howwarped and perverted all things good by nature were become. The maidenlybosom bared to this, the pretty almost-child’s head thus distracted, thedelicate foot mincing in this slough of blood and dirt, were types ofThis was the Carmagnole. As it passed, leaving Lucie frightened andbewildered in the doorway of the wood-sawyer’s house, the feathery snowfell as quietly and lay as white and soft, as if it had never been.“O my father!” for he stood before her when she lifted up the eyes shehad momentarily darkened with her hand; “such a cruel, bad sight.”“I know, my dear, I know. I have seen it many times. Don’t befrightened! Not one of them would harm you.”“I am not frightened for myself, my father. But when I think of myhusband, and the mercies of these people--” | 1Dickens |
comparison with the awful feelings that took possession of me when thepause was broken which ensued upon my sister’s recital, and in whichpause everybody had looked at me (as I felt painfully conscious) with“Yet,” said Mr. Pumblechook, leading the company gently back to thetheme from which they had strayed, “Pork—regarded as biled—is rich,“Have a little brandy, uncle,” said my sister.O Heavens, it had come at last! He would find it was weak, he would sayit was weak, and I was lost! I held tight to the leg of the table underthe cloth, with both hands, and awaited my fate.My sister went for the stone bottle, came back with the stone bottle,and poured his brandy out: no one else taking any. The wretched mantrifled with his glass,—took it up, looked at it through the light, putit down,—prolonged my misery. All this time Mrs. Joe and Joe werebriskly clearing the table for the pie and pudding. | 1Dickens |
saw inscribed as his “Little Sainte Guillotine”--for the great sharpfemale was by that time popularly canonised. His shop was shut and hewas not there, which was a relief to Lucie, and left her quite alone.But, he was not far off, for presently she heard a troubled movementand a shouting coming along, which filled her with fear. A momentafterwards, and a throng of people came pouring round the corner by theprison wall, in the midst of whom was the wood-sawyer hand in hand withThe Vengeance. There could not be fewer than five hundred people, andthey were dancing like five thousand demons. There was no other musicthan their own singing. They danced to the popular Revolution song,keeping a ferocious time that was like a gnashing of teeth in unison.Men and women danced together, women danced together, men dancedtogether, as hazard had brought them together. At first, they were amere storm of coarse red caps and coarse woollen rags; but, as they | 1Dickens |
I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon the bedbeside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the stump of a candle.Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left in darkness.How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a sound,not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my companion satopen-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same state of nervoustension in which I was myself. The shutters cut off the least ray oflight, and we waited in absolute darkness.From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at ourvery window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that the cheetahwas indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the deep tones of theparish clock, which boomed out every quarter of an hour. How long they | 2Doyle |
to two other Swabs to get all mankind into difficulties; which was soeffectually done (the Swab family having considerable politicalinfluence) that it took half the evening to set things right, and thenit was only brought about through an honest little grocer with a whitehat, black gaiters, and red nose, getting into a clock, with agridiron, and listening, and coming out, and knocking everybody downfrom behind with the gridiron whom he couldn’t confute with what he hadoverheard. This led to Mr. Wopsle’s (who had never been heard ofbefore) coming in with a star and garter on, as a plenipotentiary ofgreat power direct from the Admiralty, to say that the Swabs were allto go to prison on the spot, and that he had brought the boatswain downthe Union Jack, as a slight acknowledgment of his public services. Theboatswain, unmanned for the first time, respectfully dried his eyes onthe Jack, and then cheering up, and addressing Mr. Wopsle as Your | 1Dickens |
she does not carry it about with her.”“Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But I aminclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they liketo do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to anyone else?She could trust her own guardianship, but she could not tell whatindirect or political influence might be brought to bear upon abusiness man. Besides, remember that she had resolved to use it withina few days. It must be where she can lay her hands upon it. It must bein her own house.”“But it has twice been burgled.”“Pshaw! They did not know how to look.”“But how will you look?”“I will not look.”“I will get her to show me.”“But she will refuse.”“She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is hercarriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter.”As he spoke the gleam of the sidelights of a carriage came round the | 2Doyle |
him on the landing outside his door, holding a light over thestair-rail to light us downstairs. Looking back at him, I thought ofthe first night of his return, when our positions were reversed, andwhen I little supposed my heart could ever be as heavy and anxious atparting from him as it was now.Old Barley was growling and swearing when we repassed his door, with noappearance of having ceased or of meaning to cease. When we got to thefoot of the stairs, I asked Herbert whether he had preserved the nameof Provis. He replied, certainly not, and that the lodger was Mr.Campbell. He also explained that the utmost known of Mr. Campbell therewas, that he (Herbert) had Mr. Campbell consigned to him, and felt astrong personal interest in his being well cared for, and living asecluded life. So, when we went into the parlour where Mrs. Whimple andClara were seated at work, I said nothing of my own interest in Mr. | 1Dickens |
Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of thisagreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“theFoundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collectionof Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individualworks in the collection are in the public domain in the UnitedStates. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in theUnited States and you are located in the United States, we do notclaim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long asall references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hopethat you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promotingfree access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping theProject Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily | 2Doyle |
However, it was over at last, and they sat down again in a ring, andbegged the Mouse to tell them something more."You promised to tell me your history, you know," said Alice, "and whyit is you hate--C and D," she added in a whisper, half afraid that itwould be offended again."Mine is a long and sad tale!" said the Mouse, turning to Alice and"It _is_ a long tail, certainly," said Alice, looking down with wonderat the Mouse's tail; "but why do you call it sad?" And she kept onpuzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so that her idea of thetale was something like this:-- he met in the"You are not attending!" said the Mouse to Alice severely. "What are you"I beg your pardon," said Alice very humbly: "you had got to the fifth"I had _not_!" cried the Mouse, angrily."A knot!" said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and looking | 0Caroll |
smile, “Dear papa and mamma, I am very sorry to leave you both, and toleave my pretty sister; but I am called, and I must go!” those were nottears all of agony that wetted his young mother’s cheek, as the spiritdeparted from her embrace that had been entrusted to it. Suffer them andforbid them not. They see my Father’s face. O Father, blessed words!Thus, the rustling of an Angel’s wings got blended with the otherechoes, and they were not wholly of earth, but had in them that breathof Heaven. Sighs of the winds that blew over a little garden-tomb weremingled with them also, and both were audible to Lucie, in a hushedmurmur--like the breathing of a summer sea asleep upon a sandy shore--asthe little Lucie, comically studious at the task of the morning, ordressing a doll at her mother’s footstool, chattered in the tongues ofthe Two Cities that were blended in her life. | 1Dickens |
may expect that more from a man who is alone than from one who lives inthe bosom of his family.’“‘If I promise to keep a secret,’ said I, ‘you may absolutely dependupon my doing so.’“He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I hadnever seen so suspicious and questioning an eye.“‘Do you promise, then?’ said he at last.“‘Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No referenceto the matter at all, either in word or writing?’“‘I have already given you my word.’“‘Very good.’ He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning acrossthe room he flung open the door. The passage outside was empty.“‘That’s all right,’ said he, coming back. ‘I know that clerks aresometimes curious as to their master’s affairs. Now we can talk insafety.’ He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stare atme again with the same questioning and thoughtful look. | 2Doyle |
which interests me deeply.”“There’s nothing in it. I looked at it before,” said Lestrade. “‘Oct.4th, rooms 8_s_., breakfast 2_s_. 6_d_., cocktail 1_s_., lunch 2_s_.6_d_., glass sherry, 8_d_.’ I see nothing in that.”“Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the note,it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I congratulate“I’ve wasted time enough,” said Lestrade, rising. “I believe in hardwork and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. Good-day,Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matterfirst.” He gathered up the garments, thrust them into the bag, and made“Just one hint to you, Lestrade,” drawled Holmes before his rivalvanished; “I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St.Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any suchLestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, tapped his | 2Doyle |
for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in ready money,and he had no friends of any sort. ‘From India!’ said he as he took itup, ‘Pondicherry postmark! What can this be?’ Opening it hurriedly, outthere jumped five little dried orange pips, which pattered down uponhis plate. I began to laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from mylips at the sight of his face. His lip had fallen, his eyes wereprotruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelopewhich he still held in his trembling hand, ‘K. K. K.!’ he shrieked, andthen, ‘My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me!’“‘What is it, uncle?’ I cried.“‘Death,’ said he, and rising from the table he retired to his room,leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope and sawscrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the letter | 2Doyle |
compose her figure and the dress she had torn. It was then that I knewher condition to be that of one in whom the first expectations of beinga mother have arisen; and it was then that I lost the little hope I had“‘Is she dead?’ asked the Marquis, whom I will still describe as theelder brother, coming booted into the room from his horse.“‘Not dead,’ said I; ‘but like to die.’“‘What strength there is in these common bodies!’ he said, looking downat her with some curiosity.“‘There is prodigious strength,’ I answered him, ‘in sorrow and“He first laughed at my words, and then frowned at them. He moved achair with his foot near to mine, ordered the woman away, and said in a“‘Doctor, finding my brother in this difficulty with these hinds, Irecommended that your aid should be invited. Your reputation is high,and, as a young man with your fortune to make, you are probably mindful | 1Dickens |
receive him, with every refinement of manner known to the time, and withall the engaging graces and courtesies of life.So strangely clouded were these refinements by the prison manners andgloom, so spectral did they become in the inappropriate squalor andmisery through which they were seen, that Charles Darnay seemed to standin a company of the dead. Ghosts all! The ghost of beauty, the ghostof stateliness, the ghost of elegance, the ghost of pride, the ghost offrivolity, the ghost of wit, the ghost of youth, the ghost of age, allwaiting their dismissal from the desolate shore, all turning on him eyesthat were changed by the death they had died in coming there.It struck him motionless. The gaoler standing at his side, and the othergaolers moving about, who would have been well enough as to appearancein the ordinary exercise of their functions, looked so extravagantlycoarse contrasted with sorrowing mothers and blooming daughters who were | 1Dickens |
“Then, Mr. Pip, one of those two prisoners sat behind you tonight. Isaw him over your shoulder.”“Steady!” I thought. I asked him then, “Which of the two do you suppose“The one who had been mauled,” he answered readily, “and I’ll swear Isaw him! The more I think of him, the more certain I am of him.”“This is very curious!” said I, with the best assumption I could put onof its being nothing more to me. “Very curious indeed!”I cannot exaggerate the enhanced disquiet into which this conversationthrew me, or the special and peculiar terror I felt at Compeyson’shaving been behind me “like a ghost.” For if he had ever been out of mythoughts for a few moments together since the hiding had begun, it wasin those very moments when he was closest to me; and to think that Ishould be so unconscious and off my guard after all my care was as if I | 1Dickens |
“Let us shudder too. We may know what it is.”“It will seem nothing to you. Such whims are only impressive as weoriginate them, I think; they are not to be communicated. I havesometimes sat alone here of an evening, listening, until I have madethe echoes out to be the echoes of all the footsteps that are comingby-and-bye into our lives.”“There is a great crowd coming one day into our lives, if that be so,” Sydney Carton struck in, in his moody way.The footsteps were incessant, and the hurry of them became more and morerapid. The corner echoed and re-echoed with the tread of feet; some,as it seemed, under the windows; some, as it seemed, in the room; somecoming, some going, some breaking off, some stopping altogether; all inthe distant streets, and not one within sight.“Are all these footsteps destined to come to all of us, Miss Manette, orare we to divide them among us?” | 1Dickens |
Queen so soon—and I’ll tell you what it is, your majesty,” she went onin a severe tone (she was always rather fond of scolding herself),“it’ll never do for you to be lolling about on the grass like that!Queens have to be dignified, you know!”So she got up and walked about—rather stiffly just at first, as she wasafraid that the crown might come off: but she comforted herself withthe thought that there was nobody to see her, “and if I really am aQueen,” she said as she sat down again, “I shall be able to manage itquite well in time.”Everything was happening so oddly that she didn’t feel a bit surprisedat finding the Red Queen and the White Queen sitting close to her, oneon each side: she would have liked very much to ask them how they camethere, but she feared it would not be quite civil. However, there wouldbe no harm, she thought, in asking if the game was over. “Please, would | 0Caroll |
do it, and that it had never been done.The happiness of his own chosen English home, the necessity of beingalways actively employed, the swift changes and troubles of the timewhich had followed on one another so fast, that the events of this weekannihilated the immature plans of last week, and the events of the weekfollowing made all new again; he knew very well, that to the force ofthese circumstances he had yielded:--not without disquiet, but stillwithout continuous and accumulating resistance. That he had watchedthe times for a time of action, and that they had shifted and struggleduntil the time had gone by, and the nobility were trooping fromFrance by every highway and byway, and their property was in course ofconfiscation and destruction, and their very names were blotting out,was as well known to himself as it could be to any new authority inFrance that might impeach him for it.But, he had oppressed no man, he had imprisoned no man; he was so | 1Dickens |
these people should know there is such a man as I here; it is a soundprecaution, and may be a necessary preparation. But care, care, care!Let me think it out!”Checking his steps which had begun to tend towards an object, he took aturn or two in the already darkening street, and traced the thoughtin his mind to its possible consequences. His first impression wasconfirmed. “It is best,” he said, finally resolved, “that these peopleshould know there is such a man as I here.” And he turned his faceDefarge had described himself, that day, as the keeper of a wine-shop inthe Saint Antoine suburb. It was not difficult for one who knew the citywell, to find his house without asking any question. Having ascertainedits situation, Carton came out of those closer streets again, and dinedat a place of refreshment and fell sound asleep after dinner. For thefirst time in many years, he had no strong drink. Since last night he | 1Dickens |
"Good afternoon," said Scrooge."I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you soresolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which Ihave been a party. But I have made the trial inhomage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmashumour to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!""Good afternoon!" said Scrooge."And A Happy New Year!""Good afternoon!" said Scrooge.His nephew left the room without an angry word,notwithstanding. He stopped at the outer door tobestow the greetings of the season on the clerk, who,cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned"There's another fellow," muttered Scrooge; whooverheard him: "my clerk, with fifteen shillings aweek, and a wife and family, talking about a merryChristmas. I'll retire to Bedlam."This lunatic, in letting Scrooge's nephew out, hadlet two other people in. They were portly gentlemen,pleasant to behold, and now stood, with their hats off,in Scrooge's office. They had books and papers intheir hands, and bowed to him. | 1Dickens |
be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the house for“‘That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you havestolen,’ said I. And then, realising the dreadful position in which Iwas placed, I implored him to remember that not only my honour but thatof one who was far greater than I was at stake; and that he threatenedto raise a scandal which would convulse the nation. He might avert itall if he would but tell me what he had done with the three missing“‘You may as well face the matter,’ said I; ‘you have been caught inthe act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. If youbut make such reparation as is in your power, by telling us where theberyls are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten.’“‘Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it,’ he answered, turningaway from me with a sneer. I saw that he was too hardened for any words | 2Doyle |
Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the time ofmy mother’s re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of money—not lessthan £ 1000 a year—and this she bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirelywhile we resided with him, with a provision that a certain annual sumshould be allowed to each of us in the event of our marriage. Shortlyafter our return to England my mother died—she was killed eight yearsago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned hisattempts to establish himself in practice in London and took us to livewith him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The money which mymother had left was enough for all our wants, and there seemed to be noobstacle to our happiness.“But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time.Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours,who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back in | 2Doyle |
fowls, you have no idea. You shall have some eggs, and judge foryourself. I say, Mr. Pip!” calling me back, and speaking low. “This isaltogether a Walworth sentiment, please.”“I understand. Not to be mentioned in Little Britain,” said I.Wemmick nodded. “After what you let out the other day, Mr. Jaggers mayas well not know of it. He might think my brain was softening, orsomething of the kind.”He lay in prison very ill, during the whole interval between hiscommittal for trial and the coming round of the Sessions. He had brokentwo ribs, they had wounded one of his lungs, and he breathed with greatpain and difficulty, which increased daily. It was a consequence of hishurt that he spoke so low as to be scarcely audible; therefore he spokevery little. But he was ever ready to listen to me; and it became thefirst duty of my life to say to him, and read to him, what I knew he | 1Dickens |
principally occupied with the cares of other people; and perhapssecond-hand cares, like second-hand clothes, come easily off and on.Completing his resemblance to a man who was sitting for his portrait,Mr. Lorry dropped off to sleep. The arrival of his breakfast roused him,and he said to the drawer, as he moved his chair to it:“I wish accommodation prepared for a young lady who may come here at anytime to-day. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or she may only ask for agentleman from Tellson’s Bank. Please to let me know.”“Yes, sir. Tellson’s Bank in London, sir?”“Yes, sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your gentlemen intheir travelling backwards and forwards betwixt London and Paris, sir. Avast deal of travelling, sir, in Tellson and Company’s House.”“Yes. We are quite a French House, as well as an English one.”“Yes, sir. Not much in the habit of such travelling yourself, I think, | 1Dickens |
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain impliedwarranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types ofdamages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreementviolates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, theagreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer orlimitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity orunenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, thetrademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyoneproviding copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works inaccordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with theproduction, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any ofthe following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of thisor any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or | 0Caroll |
your advice upon the subject. We guard our secret very jealously,however, and if it once became known that we had hydraulic engineerscoming to our little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, ifthe facts came out, it would be good-bye to any chance of getting thesefields and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you promiseme that you will not tell a human being that you are going to Eyfordto-night. I hope that I make it all plain?’“‘I quite follow you,’ said I. ‘The only point which I could not quiteunderstand was what use you could make of a hydraulic press inexcavating fuller’s-earth, which, as I understand, is dug out likegravel from a pit.’“‘Ah!’ said he carelessly, ‘we have our own process. We compress theearth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing what theyare. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully into my | 2Doyle |
place where our red-headed client carried on his business. SherlockHolmes stopped in front of it with his head on one side and looked itall over, with his eyes shining brightly between puckered lids. Then hewalked slowly up the street, and then down again to the corner, stilllooking keenly at the houses. Finally he returned to the pawnbroker’s,and, having thumped vigorously upon the pavement with his stick two orthree times, he went up to the door and knocked. It was instantlyopened by a bright-looking, clean-shaven young fellow, who asked him to“Thank you,” said Holmes, “I only wished to ask you how you would gofrom here to the Strand.”“Third right, fourth left,” answered the assistant promptly, closing“Smart fellow, that,” observed Holmes as we walked away. “He is, in myjudgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am notsure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something of him | 2Doyle |
“It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, and thenoble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink upon the outerside of his right little finger,” remarked Holmes as he folded up the“He says four o’clock. It is three now. He will be here in an hour.”“Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon thesubject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in their orderof time, while I take a glance as to who our client is.” He picked ared-covered volume from a line of books of reference beside themantelpiece. “Here he is,” said he, sitting down and flattening it outupon his knee. “‘Lord Robert Walsingham de Vere St. Simon, second sonof the Duke of Balmoral.’ Hum! ‘Arms: Azure, three caltrops in chiefover a fess sable. Born in 1846.’ He’s forty-one years of age, which ismature for marriage. Was Under-Secretary for the colonies in a late | 2Doyle |
intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled brown. Atouch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight tremor of his extendedhand, recalled Holmes’ surmise as to his habits. His rusty blackfrock-coat was buttoned right up in front, with the collar turned up,and his lank wrists protruded from his sleeves without a sign of cuffor shirt. He spoke in a slow staccato fashion, choosing his words withcare, and gave the impression generally of a man of learning andletters who had had ill-usage at the hands of fortune.“We have retained these things for some days,” said Holmes, “because weexpected to see an advertisement from you giving your address. I am ata loss to know now why you did not advertise.”Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. “Shillings have not been soplentiful with me as they once were,” he remarked. “I had no doubt thatthe gang of roughs who assaulted me had carried off both my hat and the | 2Doyle |
common-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But really Ithink that we are wandering rather far from the point.”“Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less cheerfulframe of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do on re-entering“I saw her in conversation with her maid.”“And who is her maid?”“Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California with“A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed her totake great liberties. Still, of course, in America they look upon thesethings in a different way.”“How long did she speak to this Alice?”“Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of.”“You did not overhear what they said?”“Lady St. Simon said something about ‘jumping a claim.’ She wasaccustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she meant.”“American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your wife do | 2Doyle |
been hailed and stopped, both steamers were drifting away from us, andwe were rising and falling in a troubled wake of water. The look-outwas kept, long after all was still again and the two steamers weregone; but everybody knew that it was hopeless now.At length we gave it up, and pulled under the shore towards the tavernwe had lately left, where we were received with no little surprise.Here I was able to get some comforts for Magwitch,—Provis nolonger,—who had received some very severe injury in the chest, and adeep cut in the head.He told me that he believed himself to have gone under the keel of thesteamer, and to have been struck on the head in rising. The injury tohis chest (which rendered his breathing extremely painful) he thoughthe had received against the side of the galley. He added that he didnot pretend to say what he might or might not have done to Compeyson, | 1Dickens |
“I do not quite understand,” returned the uncle, sipping his coffee.“Dare I ask you to explain?”“I believe that if you were not in disgrace with the Court, and had notbeen overshadowed by that cloud for years past, a letter de cachet wouldhave sent me to some fortress indefinitely.”“It is possible,” said the uncle, with great calmness. “For the honourof the family, I could even resolve to incommode you to that extent.“I perceive that, happily for me, the Reception of the day beforeyesterday was, as usual, a cold one,” observed the nephew.“I would not say happily, my friend,” returned the uncle, with refinedpoliteness; “I would not be sure of that. A good opportunity forconsideration, surrounded by the advantages of solitude, might influenceyour destiny to far greater advantage than you influence it foryourself. But it is useless to discuss the question. I am, as you say,at a disadvantage. These little instruments of correction, these gentle | 1Dickens |
heart--if it ever had been there--if it ever could be there--I could notnow touch this honoured hand.”He laid his own upon it as he spoke.“No, dear Doctor Manette. Like you, a voluntary exile from France; likeyou, driven from it by its distractions, oppressions, and miseries; likeyou, striving to live away from it by my own exertions, and trustingin a happier future; I look only to sharing your fortunes, sharing yourlife and home, and being faithful to you to the death. Not to dividewith Lucie her privilege as your child, companion, and friend; but tocome in aid of it, and bind her closer to you, if such a thing can be.”His touch still lingered on her father’s hand. Answering the touch for amoment, but not coldly, her father rested his hands upon the arms ofhis chair, and looked up for the first time since the beginning of theconference. A struggle was evidently in his face; a struggle with that | 1Dickens |
it ran away when it saw mine coming!""How do you like the Queen?" said the Cat in a low voice."Not at all," said Alice: "she's so extremely----" Just then she noticedthat the Queen was close behind her listening: so she went on,"----likely to win, that it's hardly worth while finishing the game."The Queen smiled and passed on."Who _are_ you talking to?" said the King, coming up to Alice, andlooking at the Cat's head with great curiosity."It's a friend of mine--a Cheshire Cat," said Alice: "allow me to"I don't like the look of it at all," said the King: "however, it maykiss my hand if it likes.""I'd rather not," the Cat remarked."Don't be impertinent," said the King, "and don't look at me like that!"He got behind Alice as he spoke."A cat may look at a king," said Alice. "I've read that in some book,but I don't remember where.""Well, it must be removed," said the King very decidedly, and he called | 0Caroll |
“I’m much of your opinion, boy,” said he.“It’s bad about here,” I told him. “You’ve been lying out on themeshes, and they’re dreadful aguish. Rheumatic too.”“I’ll eat my breakfast afore they’re the death of me,” said he. “I’d dothat, if I was going to be strung up to that there gallows as there isover there, directly afterwards. I’ll beat the shivers so far, I’ll betHe was gobbling mincemeat, meatbone, bread, cheese, and pork pie, allat once: staring distrustfully while he did so at the mist all roundus, and often stopping—even stopping his jaws—to listen. Some real orfancied sound, some clink upon the river or breathing of beast upon themarsh, now gave him a start, and he said, suddenly,—“You’re not a deceiving imp? You brought no one with you?”“Nor giv’ no one the office to follow you?”“Well,” said he, “I believe you. You’d be but a fierce young houndindeed, if at your time of life you could help to hunt a wretched | 1Dickens |
that she came to the determination of sparing the poor child theinheritance of any part of the agony she had known the pains of, byrearing her in the belief that her father was dead--No, don’t kneel! InHeaven’s name why should you kneel to me!”“For the truth. O dear, good, compassionate sir, for the truth!”“A--a matter of business. You confuse me, and how can I transactbusiness if I am confused? Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindlymention now, for instance, what nine times ninepence are, or how manyshillings in twenty guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be somuch more at my ease about your state of mind.”Without directly answering to this appeal, she sat so still when he hadvery gently raised her, and the hands that had not ceased to clasphis wrists were so much more steady than they had been, that shecommunicated some reassurance to Mr. Jarvis Lorry. | 1Dickens |
the case of a boy, that secret burden co-operates with another secretburden down the leg of his trousers, it is (as I can testify) a greatpunishment. The guilty knowledge that I was going to rob Mrs. Joe—Inever thought I was going to rob Joe, for I never thought of any of thehousekeeping property as his—united to the necessity of always keepingone hand on my bread and butter as I sat, or when I was ordered aboutthe kitchen on any small errand, almost drove me out of my mind. Then,as the marsh winds made the fire glow and flare, I thought I heard thevoice outside, of the man with the iron on his leg who had sworn me tosecrecy, declaring that he couldn’t and wouldn’t starve untilto-morrow, but must be fed now. At other times, I thought, What if theyoung man who was with so much difficulty restrained from imbruing his | 1Dickens |
“Do you often go to see him--”“Shave? Always. Every day. What a barber! You have seen him at work?”“Go and see him when he has a good batch. Figure this to yourself,citizen; he shaved the sixty-three to-day, in less than two pipes! Lessthan two pipes. Word of honour!”As the grinning little man held out the pipe he was smoking, to explainhow he timed the executioner, Carton was so sensible of a rising desireto strike the life out of him, that he turned away.“But you are not English,” said the wood-sawyer, “though you wear“Yes,” said Carton, pausing again, and answering over his shoulder.“You speak like a Frenchman.”“I am an old student here.”“Aha, a perfect Frenchman! Good night, Englishman.”“But go and see that droll dog,” the little man persisted, calling afterhim. “And take a pipe with you!”Sydney had not gone far out of sight, when he stopped in the middle ofthe street under a glimmering lamp, and wrote with his pencil on a scrap | 1Dickens |
no reason to be ashamed of it. I wished him to help me. I believed that if I had an interview I could gain his help, so I asked him to meet me.” “But why at such an hour?” “Because I had only just learned that he was going to London next day and might be away for months. There were reasons why I could not get there earlier.” “But why a rendezvous in the garden instead of a visit to the “Do you think a woman could go alone at that hour to a bachelor’s “Well, what happened when you did get there?” “No, I swear it to you on all I hold sacred. I never went. Something intervened to prevent my going.” “That is a private matter. I cannot tell it.” “You acknowledge then that you made an appointment with Sir Charles at the very hour and place at which he met his death, but | 2Doyle |
Lorry closing the little procession. They had not traversed many stepsof the long main staircase when he stopped, and stared at the roof andround at the walls.“You remember the place, my father? You remember coming up here?”“What did you say?”But, before she could repeat the question, he murmured an answer as ifshe had repeated it.“Remember? No, I don’t remember. It was so very long ago.”That he had no recollection whatever of his having been brought from hisprison to that house, was apparent to them. They heard him mutter,“One Hundred and Five, North Tower;” and when he looked about him, itevidently was for the strong fortress-walls which had long encompassedhim. On their reaching the courtyard he instinctively altered histread, as being in expectation of a drawbridge; and when there wasno drawbridge, and he saw the carriage waiting in the open street, hedropped his daughter’s hand and clasped his head again.No crowd was about the door; no people were discernible at any of the | 1Dickens |
Betimes in the morning I was up and out. It was too early yet to go toMiss Havisham’s, so I loitered into the country on Miss Havisham’s sideof town,—which was not Joe’s side; I could go there to-morrow,—thinkingabout my patroness, and painting brilliant pictures of her plans forShe had adopted Estella, she had as good as adopted me, and it couldnot fail to be her intention to bring us together. She reserved it forme to restore the desolate house, admit the sunshine into the darkrooms, set the clocks a-going and the cold hearths a-blazing, tear downthe cobwebs, destroy the vermin,—in short, do all the shining deeds ofthe young Knight of romance, and marry the Princess. I had stopped tolook at the house as I passed; and its seared red brick walls, blockedwindows, and strong green ivy clasping even the stacks of chimneys withits twigs and tendons, as if with sinewy old arms, had made up a rich | 1Dickens |
before the Tribunal. He has not received the notice yet, but I knowthat he will presently be summoned for to-morrow, and removed to theConciergerie; I have timely information. You are not afraid?”She could scarcely answer, “I trust in you.”“Do so, implicitly. Your suspense is nearly ended, my darling; he shallbe restored to you within a few hours; I have encompassed him with everyprotection. I must see Lorry.”He stopped. There was a heavy lumbering of wheels within hearing. Theyboth knew too well what it meant. One. Two. Three. Three tumbrils faringaway with their dread loads over the hushing snow.“I must see Lorry,” the Doctor repeated, turning her another way.The staunch old gentleman was still in his trust; had never left it. Heand his books were in frequent requisition as to property confiscatedand made national. What he could save for the owners, he saved. Nobetter man living to hold fast by what Tellson’s had in keeping, and to | 1Dickens |
“I assure you,” returned Mr. Stryver, in the friendliest way, “that Iam sorry for it on your account, and sorry for it on the poor father’saccount. I know this must always be a sore subject with the family; letus say no more about it.”“I don’t understand you,” said Mr. Lorry.“I dare say not,” rejoined Stryver, nodding his head in a smoothing andfinal way; “no matter, no matter.”“But it does matter,” Mr. Lorry urged.“No it doesn’t; I assure you it doesn’t. Having supposed that there wassense where there is no sense, and a laudable ambition where there isnot a laudable ambition, I am well out of my mistake, and no harm isdone. Young women have committed similar follies often before, and haverepented them in poverty and obscurity often before. In an unselfishaspect, I am sorry that the thing is dropped, because it would have beena bad thing for me in a worldly point of view; in a selfish aspect, I am | 1Dickens |
trouble you, Madame Defarge wishes to see those whom she has the powerto protect at such times, to the end that she may know them--that shemay identify them. I believe,” said Mr. Lorry, rather halting in hisreassuring words, as the stony manner of all the three impressed itselfupon him more and more, “I state the case, Citizen Defarge?”Defarge looked gloomily at his wife, and gave no other answer than agruff sound of acquiescence.“You had better, Lucie,” said Mr. Lorry, doing all he could topropitiate, by tone and manner, “have the dear child here, and ourgood Pross. Our good Pross, Defarge, is an English lady, and knows noThe lady in question, whose rooted conviction that she was more than amatch for any foreigner, was not to be shaken by distress and, danger,appeared with folded arms, and observed in English to The Vengeance,whom her eyes first encountered, “Well, I am sure, Boldface! I hope | 1Dickens |
not think that it is probable that I shall use the carriage to-night.”Lestrade laughed indulgently. “You have, no doubt, already formed yourconclusions from the newspapers,” he said. “The case is as plain as apikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer it becomes. Still,of course, one can’t refuse a lady, and such a very positive one, too.She has heard of you, and would have your opinion, though I repeatedlytold her that there was nothing which you could do which I had notalready done. Why, bless my soul! here is her carriage at the door.”He had hardly spoken before there rushed into the room one of the mostlovely young women that I have ever seen in my life. Her violet eyesshining, her lips parted, a pink flush upon her cheeks, all thought ofher natural reserve lost in her overpowering excitement and concern.“Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes!” she cried, glancing from one to the other of | 2Doyle |
grass at her feet—and the black shadows of the forest behind—all thisshe took in like a picture, as, with one hand shading her eyes, sheleant against a tree, watching the strange pair, and listening, in ahalf dream, to the melancholy music of the song.“But the tune _isn’t_ his own invention,” she said to herself: “it’s‘_I give thee all, I can no more_.’” She stood and listened veryattentively, but no tears came into her eyes.“I’ll tell thee everything I can; There’s little to relate.I saw an aged aged man, A-sitting on a gate.‘Who are you, aged man?’ I said, ‘and how is it you live?’And his answer trickled through my head Like water through a sieve.He said ‘I look for butterflies That sleep among the wheat:I make them into mutton-pies, And sell them in the street.I sell them unto men,’ he said, ‘Who sail on stormy seas;And that’s the way I get my bread— | 0Caroll |
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to aProject Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be boundby the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the personor entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only beused on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people whoagree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a fewthings that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic workseven without complying with the full terms of this agreement. Seeparagraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with ProjectGutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of thisagreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the | 2Doyle |
K three times repeated. There was nothing else save the five driedpips. What could be the reason of his overpowering terror? I left thebreakfast-table, and as I ascended the stair I met him coming down withan old rusty key, which must have belonged to the attic, in one hand,and a small brass box, like a cashbox, in the other.“‘They may do what they like, but I’ll checkmate them still,’ said hewith an oath. ‘Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my room to-day,and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.’“I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to stepup to the room. The fire was burning brightly, and in the grate therewas a mass of black, fluffy ashes, as of burned paper, while the brassbox stood open and empty beside it. As I glanced at the box I noticed,with a start, that upon the lid was printed the treble K which I had | 2Doyle |
Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought it wouldbe as well to introduce some other subject of conversation. While shewas trying to fix on one, the cook took the cauldron of soup off thefire, and at once set to work throwing everything within her reach atthe Duchess and the baby--the fire-irons came first; then followed ashower of saucepans, plates, and dishes. The Duchess took no notice ofthem even when they hit her; and the baby was howling so much already,that it was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not."Oh, _please_ mind what you're doing!" cried Alice, jumping up and downin an agony of terror. "Oh, there goes his _precious_ nose"; as anunusually large saucepan flew close by it, and very nearly carried it"If everybody minded their own business," the Duchess said in a hoarsegrowl, "the world would go round a deal faster than it does." | 0Caroll |
“But you! You are police, are you not? You have killed GiuseppeGorgiano. Is it not so?”“We are police, madam.”She looked round into the shadows of the room.“But where, then, is Gennaro?” she asked. “He is my husband, GennaroLucca. I am Emilia Lucca, and we are both from New York. Where isGennaro? He called me this moment from this window, and I ran with all“It was I who called,” said Holmes.“You! How could you call?”“Your cipher was not difficult, madam. Your presence here wasdesirable. I knew that I had only to flash ‘_Vieni_’ and you wouldThe beautiful Italian looked with awe at my companion.“I do not understand how you know these things,” she said. “GiuseppeGorgiano—how did he—” She paused, and then suddenly her face lit upwith pride and delight. “Now I see it! My Gennaro! My splendid,beautiful Gennaro, who has guarded me safe from all harm, he did it,with his own strong hand he killed the monster! Oh, Gennaro, how | 2Doyle |
gentleman, it never will be. Now, Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly, how slowShe was at his elbow when he addressed her, putting a dish upon thetable. As she withdrew her hands from it, she fell back a step or two,nervously muttering some excuse. And a certain action of her fingers,as she spoke, arrested my attention.“What’s the matter?” said Mr. Jaggers.“Nothing. Only the subject we were speaking of,” said I, “was ratherThe action of her fingers was like the action of knitting. She stoodlooking at her master, not understanding whether she was free to go, orwhether he had more to say to her and would call her back if she didgo. Her look was very intent. Surely, I had seen exactly such eyes andsuch hands on a memorable occasion very lately!He dismissed her, and she glided out of the room. But she remainedbefore me as plainly as if she were still there. I looked at those | 1Dickens |
to talk to him. Yes, my buck!""It's hanging there now," replied the boy."Is it?" said Scrooge. "Go and buy it.""Walk-ER!" exclaimed the boy."No, no," said Scrooge, "I am in earnest. Go and buyit, and tell 'em to bring it here, that I may give them thedirection where to take it. Come back with the man, andI'll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less thanfive minutes and I'll give you half-a-crown!"The boy was off like a shot. He must have had a steadyhand at a trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast."I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's!" whispered Scrooge,rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh. "He sha'n'tknow who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim. JoeMiller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob'sThe hand in which he wrote the address was not a steadyone, but write it he did, somehow, and went down-stairs to | 1Dickens |
but that, in the moment of his laying his hand on his cloak to identifyhim, that villain had staggered up and staggered back, and they hadboth gone overboard together, when the sudden wrenching of him(Magwitch) out of our boat, and the endeavour of his captor to keep himin it, had capsized us. He told me in a whisper that they had gone downfiercely locked in each other’s arms, and that there had been astruggle under water, and that he had disengaged himself, struck out,I never had any reason to doubt the exact truth of what he thus toldme. The officer who steered the galley gave the same account of theirWhen I asked this officer’s permission to change the prisoner’s wetclothes by purchasing any spare garments I could get at thepublic-house, he gave it readily: merely observing that he must takecharge of everything his prisoner had about him. So the pocket-book | 1Dickens |
dare say, to know that I had it.”“That is another way of saying that I am placed on the footing I haveindicated. I thank you, Darnay. I may use that freedom with your name?”“I think so, Carton, by this time.”They shook hands upon it, and Sydney turned away. Within a minuteafterwards, he was, to all outward appearance, as unsubstantial as ever.When he was gone, and in the course of an evening passed with MissPross, the Doctor, and Mr. Lorry, Charles Darnay made some mention ofthis conversation in general terms, and spoke of Sydney Carton as aproblem of carelessness and recklessness. He spoke of him, in short, notbitterly or meaning to bear hard upon him, but as anybody might who sawhim as he showed himself.He had no idea that this could dwell in the thoughts of his fair youngwife; but, when he afterwards joined her in their own rooms, he found | 1Dickens |
hat to give his spikes free play, “he’s a tradesman.”“What’s his goods, father?” asked the brisk Young Jerry.“His goods,” said Mr. Cruncher, after turning it over in his mind, “is abranch of Scientific goods.”“Persons’ bodies, ain’t it, father?” asked the lively boy.“I believe it is something of that sort,” said Mr. Cruncher.“Oh, father, I should so like to be a Resurrection-Man when I’m quiteMr. Cruncher was soothed, but shook his head in a dubious and moral way.“It depends upon how you dewelop your talents. Be careful to dewelopyour talents, and never to say no more than you can help to nobody, andthere’s no telling at the present time what you may not come to be fitfor.” As Young Jerry, thus encouraged, went on a few yards in advance,to plant the stool in the shadow of the Bar, Mr. Cruncher added tohimself: “Jerry, you honest tradesman, there’s hopes wot that boy will | 1Dickens |
beyond the fact that I was falling very ill. The late stress upon mehad enabled me to put off illness, but not to put it away; I knew thatit was coming on me now, and I knew very little else, and was evencareless as to that.For a day or two, I lay on the sofa, or on the floor,—anywhere,according as I happened to sink down,—with a heavy head and achinglimbs, and no purpose, and no power. Then there came, one night whichappeared of great duration, and which teemed with anxiety and horror;and when in the morning I tried to sit up in my bed and think of it, Ifound I could not do so.Whether I really had been down in Garden Court in the dead of thenight, groping about for the boat that I supposed to be there; whetherI had two or three times come to myself on the staircase with great | 1Dickens |
see her when the chances served, and on that possibility she would havewaited out the day, seven days a week.These occupations brought her round to the December month, wherein herfather walked among the terrors with a steady head. On a lightly-snowingafternoon she arrived at the usual corner. It was a day of some wildrejoicing, and a festival. She had seen the houses, as she came along,decorated with little pikes, and with little red caps stuck upon them;also, with tricoloured ribbons; also, with the standard inscription(tricoloured letters were the favourite), Republic One and Indivisible.Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death!The miserable shop of the wood-sawyer was so small, that its wholesurface furnished very indifferent space for this legend. He had gotsomebody to scrawl it up for him, however, who had squeezed Death inwith most inappropriate difficulty. On his house-top, he displayed pikeand cap, as a good citizen must, and in a window he had stationed his | 1Dickens |
Pocket should be under the necessity of receiving gentlemen to readwith him. That did not extend to me, she told me in a gush of love andconfidence (at that time, I had known her something less than fiveminutes); if they were all like Me, it would be quite another thing.“But dear Mrs. Pocket,” said Mrs. Coiler, “after her earlydisappointment (not that dear Mr. Pocket was to blame in that),requires so much luxury and elegance—”“Yes, ma’am,” I said, to stop her, for I was afraid she was going to“And she is of so aristocratic a disposition—”“Yes, ma’am,” I said again, with the same object as before.“—That it _is_ hard,” said Mrs. Coiler, “to have dear Mr. Pocket’s timeand attention diverted from dear Mrs. Pocket.”I could not help thinking that it might be harder if the butcher’s timeand attention were diverted from dear Mrs. Pocket; but I said nothing,and indeed had enough to do in keeping a bashful watch upon my company | 1Dickens |
heartily glad when Herbert left us for the City.I had neither the good sense nor the good feeling to know that this wasall my fault, and that if I had been easier with Joe, Joe would havebeen easier with me. I felt impatient of him and out of temper withhim; in which condition he heaped coals of fire on my head.“Us two being now alone, sir,”—began Joe.“Joe,” I interrupted, pettishly, “how can you call me, sir?”Joe looked at me for a single instant with something faintly likereproach. Utterly preposterous as his cravat was, and as his collarswere, I was conscious of a sort of dignity in the look.“Us two being now alone,” resumed Joe, “and me having the intentionsand abilities to stay not many minutes more, I will nowconclude—leastways begin—to mention what have led to my having had thepresent honour. For was it not,” said Joe, with his old air of lucid | 1Dickens |
nature of the case must be done without his knowledge, I could show you“Why must it be done without his knowledge?” she asked, settling herhands upon her stick, that she might regard me the more attentively.“Because,” said I, “I began the service myself, more than two yearsago, without his knowledge, and I don’t want to be betrayed. Why I failin my ability to finish it, I cannot explain. It is a part of thesecret which is another person’s and not mine.”She gradually withdrew her eyes from me, and turned them on the fire.After watching it for what appeared in the silence and by the light ofthe slowly wasting candles to be a long time, she was roused by thecollapse of some of the red coals, and looked towards me again—atfirst, vacantly—then, with a gradually concentrating attention. Allthis time Estella knitted on. When Miss Havisham had fixed herattention on me, she said, speaking as if there had been no lapse in | 1Dickens |
not going to do _that_ in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she said, "andsee whether it's marked '_poison_' or not;" for she had read severalnice little stories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up bywild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they _would_ notremember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that ared-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that, if youcut your finger _very_ deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and shehad never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked"poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.However, this bottle was _not_ marked "poison," so Alice ventured totaste it, and finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixedflavour of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, coffee, andhot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off. * * * * * | 0Caroll |
“The sun was shining—”Here Alice ventured to interrupt him. “If it’s _very_ long,” she said,as politely as she could, “would you please tell me first which road—”Tweedledee smiled gently, and began again:“The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might:He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright—And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night.The moon was shining sulkily, Because she thought the sunHad got no business to be there After the day was done—‘It’s very rude of him,’ she said, ‘To come and spoil the fun!’The sea was wet as wet could be, The sands were dry as dry.You could not see a cloud, because No cloud was in the sky:No birds were flying over head— There were no birds to fly.The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand;They wept like anything to see Such quantities of sand: | 0Caroll |
hot upon it as that comes to; I say yes, and I shall expect you to lookin to-night. Good morning.”Then Mr. Stryver turned and burst out of the Bank, causing such aconcussion of air on his passage through, that to stand up against itbowing behind the two counters, required the utmost remaining strengthof the two ancient clerks. Those venerable and feeble persons werealways seen by the public in the act of bowing, and were popularlybelieved, when they had bowed a customer out, still to keep on bowing inthe empty office until they bowed another customer in.The barrister was keen enough to divine that the banker would not havegone so far in his expression of opinion on any less solid ground thanmoral certainty. Unprepared as he was for the large pill he had toswallow, he got it down. “And now,” said Mr. Stryver, shaking hisforensic forefinger at the Temple in general, when it was down, “my way | 1Dickens |
not to think, the more he thought.Marley's Ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolvedwithin himself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream, hismind flew back again, like a strong spring released, to its firstposition, and presented the same problem to be worked all through,"Was it a dream or not?"Scrooge lay in this state until the chime had gone three quartersmore, when he remembered, on a sudden, that the Ghost had warnedhim of a visitation when the bell tolled one. He resolved to lieawake until the hour was passed; and, considering that he couldno more go to sleep than go to Heaven, this was perhaps thewisest resolution in his power.The quarter was so long, that he was more than once convinced hemust have sunk into a doze unconsciously, and missed the clock.At length it broke upon his listening ear."A quarter past," said Scrooge, counting."A quarter to it," said Scrooge. | 1Dickens |
what she did, in time to check herself and go back. It was dreadful togo in at the door again; but, she did go in, and even went near it, toget the bonnet and other things that she must wear. These she put on,out on the staircase, first shutting and locking the door and takingaway the key. She then sat down on the stairs a few moments to breatheand to cry, and then got up and hurried away.By good fortune she had a veil on her bonnet, or she could hardly havegone along the streets without being stopped. By good fortune, too, shewas naturally so peculiar in appearance as not to show disfigurementlike any other woman. She needed both advantages, for the marks ofgripping fingers were deep in her face, and her hair was torn, and herdress (hastily composed with unsteady hands) was clutched and dragged aIn crossing the bridge, she dropped the door key in the river. Arriving | 1Dickens |
“That is my name.—There is nothing the matter?”“Nothing the matter,” returned the voice. And the man came on.I stood with my lamp held out over the stair-rail, and he came slowlywithin its light. It was a shaded lamp, to shine upon a book, and itscircle of light was very contracted; so that he was in it for a mereinstant, and then out of it. In the instant, I had seen a face that wasstrange to me, looking up with an incomprehensible air of being touchedand pleased by the sight of me.Moving the lamp as the man moved, I made out that he was substantiallydressed, but roughly, like a voyager by sea. That he had long iron-greyhair. That his age was about sixty. That he was a muscular man, strongon his legs, and that he was browned and hardened by exposure toweather. As he ascended the last stair or two, and the light of my lamp | 1Dickens |
better guide than I. Good-bye, and never hesitate night or day to send for me if I can be of service.” The wheels died away down the drive while Sir Henry and I turned into the hall, and the door clanged heavily behind us. It was a fine apartment in which we found ourselves, large, lofty, and heavily raftered with huge baulks of age-blackened oak. In the great old-fashioned fireplace behind the high iron dogs a log-fire crackled and snapped. Sir Henry and I held out our hands to it, for we were numb from our long drive. Then we gazed round us at the high, thin window of old stained glass, the oak panelling, the stags’ heads, the coats of arms upon the walls, all dim and sombre in the subdued light of the central lamp. “It’s just as I imagined it,” said Sir Henry. “Is it not the very | 2Doyle |
flapped and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was thematter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose and flutteredoff among the others.“‘Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?’ says she.“‘Well,’ said I, ‘you said you’d give me one for Christmas, and I wasfeeling which was the fattest.’“‘Oh,’ says she, ‘we’ve set yours aside for you—Jem’s bird, we call it.It’s the big white one over yonder. There’s twenty-six of them, whichmakes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the market.’“‘Thank you, Maggie,’ says I; ‘but if it is all the same to you, I’drather have that one I was handling just now.’“‘The other is a good three pound heavier,’ said she, ‘and we fattenedit expressly for you.’“‘Never mind. I’ll have the other, and I’ll take it now,’ said I.“‘Oh, just as you like,’ said she, a little huffed. ‘Which is it you | 2Doyle |
one unsettled manner, and going through one round of observances withhis pipe and his negro-head and his jackknife and his pack of cards,and what not, as if it were all put down for him on a slate,—I say hischair remaining where it had stood, Herbert unconsciously took it, butnext moment started out of it, pushed it away, and took another. He hadno occasion to say after that that he had conceived an aversion for mypatron, neither had I occasion to confess my own. We interchanged thatconfidence without shaping a syllable.“What,” said I to Herbert, when he was safe in another chair,—“what is“My poor dear Handel,” he replied, holding his head, “I am too stunned“So was I, Herbert, when the blow first fell. Still, something must bedone. He is intent upon various new expenses,—horses, and carriages,and lavish appearances of all kinds. He must be stopped somehow.”“You mean that you can’t accept—” | 1Dickens |
is most improper—most outrageous. I must insist upon some explanation.”He swelled and puffed in his anger.“Pray sit down, Mr. Scott Eccles,” said Holmes in a soothing voice.“May I ask, in the first place, why you came to me at all?”“Well, sir, it did not appear to be a matter which concerned thepolice, and yet, when you have heard the facts, you must admit that Icould not leave it where it was. Private detectives are a class withwhom I have absolutely no sympathy, but none the less, having heard“Quite so. But, in the second place, why did you not come at once?”Holmes glanced at his watch.“It is a quarter-past two,” he said. “Your telegram was dispatchedabout one. But no one can glance at your toilet and attire withoutseeing that your disturbance dates from the moment of your waking.”Our client smoothed down his unbrushed hair and felt his unshaven chin.“You are right, Mr. Holmes. I never gave a thought to my toilet. I was | 2Doyle |
born in opposition to the dictates of reason, religion, and morality,and against the dissuading arguments of my best friends. Even when Iwas taken to have a new suit of clothes, the tailor had orders to makethem like a kind of Reformatory, and on no account to let me have thefree use of my limbs.Joe and I going to church, therefore, must have been a moving spectaclefor compassionate minds. Yet, what I suffered outside was nothing towhat I underwent within. The terrors that had assailed me whenever Mrs.Joe had gone near the pantry, or out of the room, were only to beequalled by the remorse with which my mind dwelt on what my hands haddone. Under the weight of my wicked secret, I pondered whether theChurch would be powerful enough to shield me from the vengeance of theterrible young man, if I divulged to that establishment. I conceivedthe idea that the time when the banns were read and when the clergyman | 1Dickens |
was not to be given to me until she had gratified it for a term. I sawin this, a reason for her being beforehand assigned to me. Sending herout to attract and torment and do mischief, Miss Havisham sent her withthe malicious assurance that she was beyond the reach of all admirers,and that all who staked upon that cast were secured to lose. I saw inthis that I, too, was tormented by a perversion of ingenuity, evenwhile the prize was reserved for me. I saw in this the reason for mybeing staved off so long and the reason for my late guardian’sdeclining to commit himself to the formal knowledge of such a scheme.In a word, I saw in this Miss Havisham as I had her then and therebefore my eyes, and always had had her before my eyes; and I saw inthis, the distinct shadow of the darkened and unhealthy house in which | 1Dickens |
broken out, for the room was so filled with smoke that the light of the lamp upon the table was blurred by it. As I entered, however, my fears were set at rest, for it was the acrid fumes of strong coarse tobacco which took me by the throat and set me coughing. Through the haze I had a vague vision of Holmes in his dressing-gown coiled up in an armchair with his black clay pipe between his lips. Several rolls of paper lay around him. “Caught cold, Watson?” said he. “No, it’s this poisonous atmosphere.” “I suppose it _is_ pretty thick, now that you mention it.” “Thick! It is intolerable.” “Open the window, then! You have been at your club all day, I He laughed at my bewildered expression. “There is a delightful freshness about you, Watson, which makes it a pleasure to exercise any small powers which I possess at your expense. A | 2Doyle |
actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a _danseuse_at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroom for some years.There are no further particulars, and the whole case is in your handsnow—so far as it has been set forth in the public press.”“And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would not havemissed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson, and asthe clock makes it a few minutes after four, I have no doubt that thiswill prove to be our noble client. Do not dream of going, Watson, for Ivery much prefer having a witness, if only as a check to my own“Lord Robert St. Simon,” announced our page-boy, throwing open thedoor. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, high-nosedand pale, with something perhaps of petulance about the mouth, and withthe steady, well-opened eye of a man whose pleasant lot it had ever | 2Doyle |
waiting for the tenant to return. So you actually thought that I “I did not know who you were, but I was determined to find out.” “Excellent, Watson! And how did you localise me? You saw me, perhaps, on the night of the convict hunt, when I was so imprudent as to allow the moon to rise behind me?” “Yes, I saw you then.” “And have no doubt searched all the huts until you came to this “No, your boy had been observed, and that gave me a guide where “The old gentleman with the telescope, no doubt. I could not make it out when first I saw the light flashing upon the lens.” He rose and peeped into the hut. “Ha, I see that Cartwright has brought up some supplies. What’s this paper? So you have been to Coombe Tracey, have you?” “To see Mrs. Laura Lyons?” “Well done! Our researches have evidently been running on | 2Doyle |
effort to move. Lestrade thrust his brandy-flask between the baronet’s teeth, and two frightened eyes were looking up at us. “My God!” he whispered. “What was it? What, in heaven’s name, was “It’s dead, whatever it is,” said Holmes. “We’ve laid the family ghost once and forever.” In mere size and strength it was a terrible creature which was lying stretched before us. It was not a pure bloodhound and it was not a pure mastiff; but it appeared to be a combination of the two—gaunt, savage, and as large as a small lioness. Even now in the stillness of death, the huge jaws seemed to be dripping with a bluish flame and the small, deep-set, cruel eyes were ringed with fire. I placed my hand upon the glowing muzzle, and as I held them up my own fingers smouldered and gleamed in the “A cunning preparation of it,” said Holmes, sniffing at the dead | 2Doyle |
somehows. Giv him by friends, I expect.”“I wish,” said the other, with a bitter curse upon the cold, “that I“Two one pound notes, or friends?”“Two one pound notes. I’d sell all the friends I ever had for one, andthink it a blessed good bargain. Well? So he says—?”“So he says,” resumed the convict I had recognised,—“it was all saidand done in half a minute, behind a pile of timber in theDock-yard,—‘You’re a-going to be discharged?’ Yes, I was. Would I findout that boy that had fed him and kep his secret, and give him them twoone pound notes? Yes, I would. And I did.”“More fool you,” growled the other. “I’d have spent ’em on a Man, inwittles and drink. He must have been a green one. Mean to say he knowed“Not a ha’porth. Different gangs and different ships. He was triedagain for prison breaking, and got made a Lifer.”“And was that—Honour!—the only time you worked out, in this part of the | 1Dickens |
disaster, Mr. Jaggers stood, according to his wont, before the fire.Wemmick leaned back in his chair, staring at me, with his hands in thepockets of his trousers, and his pen put horizontally into the post.The two brutal casts, always inseparable in my mind from the officialproceedings, seemed to be congestively considering whether they didn’tsmell fire at the present moment.My narrative finished, and their questions exhausted, I then producedMiss Havisham’s authority to receive the nine hundred pounds forHerbert. Mr. Jaggers’s eyes retired a little deeper into his head whenI handed him the tablets, but he presently handed them over to Wemmick,with instructions to draw the check for his signature. While that wasin course of being done, I looked on at Wemmick as he wrote, and Mr.Jaggers, poising and swaying himself on his well-polished boots, lookedon at me. “I am sorry, Pip,” said he, as I put the check in my pocket, | 1Dickens |
instant, Miss Havisham said, “Let me see you two play cards; why haveyou not begun?” With that, we returned to her room, and sat down asbefore; I was beggared, as before; and again, as before, Miss Havishamwatched us all the time, directed my attention to Estella’s beauty, andmade me notice it the more by trying her jewels on Estella’s breast andEstella, for her part, likewise treated me as before, except that shedid not condescend to speak. When we had played some half-dozen games,a day was appointed for my return, and I was taken down into the yardto be fed in the former dog-like manner. There, too, I was again leftto wander about as I liked.It is not much to the purpose whether a gate in that garden wall whichI had scrambled up to peep over on the last occasion was, on that lastoccasion, open or shut. Enough that I saw no gate then, and that I saw | 1Dickens |
“The Langham Hotel will find me.”“Then may I recommend that you return there and be on hand in case Ishould want you? I have no desire to encourage false hopes, but you mayrest assured that all that can be done will be done for the safety ofLady Frances. I can say no more for the instant. I will leave you thiscard so that you may be able to keep in touch with us. Now, Watson, ifyou will pack your bag I will cable to Mrs. Hudson to make one of herbest efforts for two hungry travellers at 7:30 to-morrow.”A telegram was awaiting us when we reached our Baker Street rooms,which Holmes read with an exclamation of interest and threw across tome. “Jagged or torn,” was the message, and the place of origin, Baden.“What is this?” I asked.“It is everything,” Holmes answered. “You may remember my seeminglyirrelevant question as to this clerical gentleman’s left ear. You did | 2Doyle |
We shook hands, and he looked hard at me as long as he could see me. Iturned at the door, and he was still looking hard at me, while the twovile casts on the shelf seemed to be trying to get their eyelids open,and to force out of their swollen throats, “O, what a man he is!”Wemmick was out, and though he had been at his desk he could have donenothing for me. I went straight back to the Temple, where I found theterrible Provis drinking rum and water and smoking negro-head, inNext day the clothes I had ordered all came home, and he put them on.Whatever he put on, became him less (it dismally seemed to me) thanwhat he had worn before. To my thinking, there was something in himthat made it hopeless to attempt to disguise him. The more I dressedhim and the better I dressed him, the more he looked like the slouching | 1Dickens |
feebly stretching out one paw, trying to touch her. "Poor littlething!" said Alice, in a coaxing tone, and she tried hard to whistle toit; but she was terribly frightened all the time at the thought that itmight be hungry, in which case it would be very likely to eat her up inspite of all her coaxing.Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little bit of stick, andheld it out to the puppy; whereupon the puppy jumped into the air offall its feet at once, with a yelp of delight, and rushed at the stick,and made believe to worry it; then Alice dodged behind a great thistle,to keep herself from being run over; and, the moment she appeared on theother side, the puppy made another rush at the stick, and tumbled headover heels in its hurry to get hold of it; then Alice, thinking it wasvery like having a game of play with a cart-horse, and expecting every | 0Caroll |
less likely to succeed on that account.”“You have laid me under an obligation to you for life--in two senses,” said his late client, taking his hand.“I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and my best is as good asanother man’s, I believe.”It clearly being incumbent on some one to say, “Much better,” Mr. Lorrysaid it; perhaps not quite disinterestedly, but with the interestedobject of squeezing himself back again.“You think so?” said Mr. Stryver. “Well! you have been present all day,and you ought to know. You are a man of business, too.”“And as such,” quoth Mr. Lorry, whom the counsel learned in the law hadnow shouldered back into the group, just as he had previously shoulderedhim out of it--“as such I will appeal to Doctor Manette, to break upthis conference and order us all to our homes. Miss Lucie looks ill, Mr.Darnay has had a terrible day, we are worn out.” | 1Dickens |
depth, and overflowed the city to that point. Alarm-bells ringing, drumsbeating, the sea raging and thundering on its new beach, the attackDeep ditches, double drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight greattowers, cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. Through the fire and throughthe smoke--in the fire and in the smoke, for the sea cast him up againsta cannon, and on the instant he became a cannonier--Defarge of thewine-shop worked like a manful soldier, Two fierce hours.Deep ditch, single drawbridge, massive stone walls, eight great towers,cannon, muskets, fire and smoke. One drawbridge down! “Work, comradesall, work! Work, Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques One Thousand, JacquesTwo Thousand, Jacques Five-and-Twenty Thousand; in the name of allthe Angels or the Devils--which you prefer--work!” Thus Defarge of thewine-shop, still at his gun, which had long grown hot.“To me, women!” cried madame his wife. “What! We can kill as well asthe men when the place is taken!” And to her, with a shrill thirsty | 1Dickens |
would return there, Garcia, who is the son of the former highestdignitary in San Pedro, was waiting with two trusty companions ofhumble station, all three fired with the same reasons for revenge. Hecould do little during the day, for Murillo took every precaution andnever went out save with his satellite Lucas, or Lopez as he was knownin the days of his greatness. At night, however, he slept alone, andthe avenger might find him. On a certain evening, which had beenprearranged, I sent my friend final instructions, for the man wasforever on the alert and continually changed his room. I was to seethat the doors were open and the signal of a green or white light in awindow which faced the drive was to give notice if all was safe or ifthe attempt had better be postponed.“But everything went wrong with us. In some way I had excited thesuspicion of Lopez, the secretary. He crept up behind me and sprang | 2Doyle |
believeth in me, shall never die.”Now, that the streets were quiet, and the night wore on, the wordswere in the echoes of his feet, and were in the air. Perfectly calmand steady, he sometimes repeated them to himself as he walked; but, heThe night wore out, and, as he stood upon the bridge listening to thewater as it splashed the river-walls of the Island of Paris, where thepicturesque confusion of houses and cathedral shone bright in the lightof the moon, the day came coldly, looking like a dead face out of thesky. Then, the night, with the moon and the stars, turned pale and died,and for a little while it seemed as if Creation were delivered over toBut, the glorious sun, rising, seemed to strike those words, that burdenof the night, straight and warm to his heart in its long bright rays.And looking along them, with reverently shaded eyes, a bridge of light | 1Dickens |
hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling passion. ‘Howcould anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with such attractions and“‘My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine,’ said I. ‘Alittle French, a little German, music, and drawing—’“‘Tut, tut!’ he cried. ‘This is all quite beside the question. Thepoint is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment of alady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are not fittedfor the rearing of a child who may some day play a considerable part inthe history of the country. But if you have, why, then, how could anygentleman ask you to condescend to accept anything under the threefigures? Your salary with me, madam, would commence at £ 100 a year.’“You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, such anoffer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, however, seeing | 2Doyle |
The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening,at the floor on one side of him; then similarly, at the floor on theother side of him; then, upward at the speaker.“What did you say?”“You can bear a little more light?”“I must bear it, if you let it in.” (Laying the palest shadow of astress upon the second word.)The opened half-door was opened a little further, and secured at thatangle for the time. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, andshowed the workman with an unfinished shoe upon his lap, pausing in hislabour. His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at hisfeet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly cut, but not verylong, a hollow face, and exceedingly bright eyes. The hollowness andthinness of his face would have caused them to look large, under his yetdark eyebrows and his confused white hair, though they had been really | 1Dickens |
any of the people within sight cared about my movements. The few whowere passing passed on their several ways, and the street was emptywhen I turned back into the Temple. Nobody had come out at the gatewith us, nobody went in at the gate with me. As I crossed by thefountain, I saw his lighted back windows looking bright and quiet, and,when I stood for a few moments in the doorway of the building where Ilived, before going up the stairs, Garden Court was as still andlifeless as the staircase was when I ascended it.Herbert received me with open arms, and I had never felt before soblessedly what it is to have a friend. When he had spoken some soundwords of sympathy and encouragement, we sat down to consider thequestion, What was to be done?The chair that Provis had occupied still remaining where it hadstood,—for he had a barrack way with him of hanging about one spot, in | 1Dickens |
his convenience quite as well as if it had been all right. Wishing toembrace the present occasion of finding out whether in teaching Joe, Ishould have to begin quite at the beginning, I said, “Ah! But read the“The rest, eh, Pip?” said Joe, looking at it with a slow, searchingeye, “One, two, three. Why, here’s three Js, and three Os, and threeJ-O, Joes in it, Pip!”I leaned over Joe, and, with the aid of my forefinger read him the“Astonishing!” said Joe, when I had finished. “You ARE a scholar.”“How do you spell Gargery, Joe?” I asked him, with a modest patronage.“I don’t spell it at all,” said Joe.“But supposing you did?”“It _can’t_ be supposed,” said Joe. “Tho’ I’m uncommon fond of reading,“On-common. Give me,” said Joe, “a good book, or a good newspaper, andsit me down afore a good fire, and I ask no better. Lord!” hecontinued, after rubbing his knees a little, “when you _do_ come to a J | 1Dickens |
which earned his approval. He now took the stick from my hands and examined it for a few minutes with his naked eyes. Then with an expression of interest he laid down his cigarette, and carrying the cane to the window, he looked over it again with a “Interesting, though elementary,” said he as he returned to his favourite corner of the settee. “There are certainly one or two indications upon the stick. It gives us the basis for several “Has anything escaped me?” I asked with some self-importance. “I trust that there is nothing of consequence which I have “I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your conclusions were erroneous. When I said that you stimulated me I meant, to be frank, that in noting your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the truth. Not that you are entirely wrong in this instance. The man is certainly a country practitioner. And he | 2Doyle |
down; but he would be up again in a moment, sponging himself ordrinking out of the water-bottle, with the greatest satisfaction inseconding himself according to form, and then came at me with an airand a show that made me believe he really was going to do for me atlast. He got heavily bruised, for I am sorry to record that the more Ihit him, the harder I hit him; but he came up again and again andagain, until at last he got a bad fall with the back of his headagainst the wall. Even after that crisis in our affairs, he got up andturned round and round confusedly a few times, not knowing where I was;but finally went on his knees to his sponge and threw it up: at thesame time panting out, “That means you have won.”He seemed so brave and innocent, that although I had not proposed the | 1Dickens |
thing. It has been supposed that the man to whom she gave her misplacedconfidence acted throughout in concert with her half-brother; that itwas a conspiracy between them; and that they shared the profits.”“I wonder he didn’t marry her and get all the property,” said I.“He may have been married already, and her cruel mortification may havebeen a part of her half-brother’s scheme,” said Herbert. “Mind! I don’t“What became of the two men?” I asked, after again considering the“They fell into deeper shame and degradation—if there can be deeper—and“Are they alive now?”“You said just now that Estella was not related to Miss Havisham, butHerbert shrugged his shoulders. “There has always been an Estella,since I have heard of a Miss Havisham. I know no more. And now,Handel,” said he, finally throwing off the story as it were, “there isa perfectly open understanding between us. All that I know about Miss“And all that I know,” I retorted, “you know.” | 1Dickens |
As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden doubt inthem, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn, hunger-worn youngfingers, and touched his lips.“Are you dying for him?” she whispered.“And his wife and child. Hush! Yes.”“O you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?”“Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last.”The same shadows that are falling on the prison, are falling, in thatsame hour of the early afternoon, on the Barrier with the crowd aboutit, when a coach going out of Paris drives up to be examined.“Who goes here? Whom have we within? Papers!”The papers are handed out, and read.“Alexandre Manette. Physician. French. Which is he?”This is he; this helpless, inarticulately murmuring, wandering old man“Apparently the Citizen-Doctor is not in his right mind? TheRevolution-fever will have been too much for him?”Greatly too much for him.“Hah! Many suffer with it. Lucie. His daughter. French. Which is she?” | 1Dickens |
unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not have been abetter fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. and Mrs. Rucastleexpressed a delight at the look of it, which seemed quite exaggeratedin its vehemence. They were waiting for me in the drawing-room, whichis a very large room, stretching along the entire front of the house,with three long windows reaching down to the floor. A chair had beenplaced close to the central window, with its back turned towards it. Inthis I was asked to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and down onthe other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funnieststories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical hewas, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Mrs. Rucastle, however, whohas evidently no sense of humour, never so much as smiled, but sat withher hands in her lap, and a sad, anxious look upon her face. After an | 2Doyle |
Alice), there was no way of guessing, but she was gone, and Alice beganto remember that she was a Pawn, and that it would soon be time for herOf course the first thing to do was to make a grand survey of thecountry she was going to travel through. “It’s something very likelearning geography,” thought Alice, as she stood on tiptoe in hopes ofbeing able to see a little further. “Principal rivers—there _are_ none.Principal mountains—I’m on the only one, but I don’t think it’s got anyname. Principal towns—why, what _are_ those creatures, making honeydown there? They can’t be bees—nobody ever saw bees a mile off, youknow—” and for some time she stood silent, watching one of them thatwas bustling about among the flowers, poking its proboscis into them,“just as if it was a regular bee,” thought Alice.However, this was anything but a regular bee: in fact it was anelephant—as Alice soon found out, though the idea quite took her breath | 0Caroll |
“Ah, what a pity! We so much regret it! But take courage; severalmembers of our society have been in secret, at first, and it has lastedbut a short time.” Then he added, raising his voice, “I grieve to informThere was a murmur of commiseration as Charles Darnay crossed the roomto a grated door where the gaoler awaited him, and many voices--amongwhich, the soft and compassionate voices of women were conspicuous--gavehim good wishes and encouragement. He turned at the grated door, torender the thanks of his heart; it closed under the gaoler’s hand; andthe apparitions vanished from his sight forever.The wicket opened on a stone staircase, leading upward. When they hadascended forty steps (the prisoner of half an hour already countedthem), the gaoler opened a low black door, and they passed into asolitary cell. It struck cold and damp, but was not dark.“Yours,” said the gaoler.“Why am I confined alone?”“How do I know!” | 1Dickens |
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