a tale of two cities(双城记)-第43章

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　‘All　the　village；'　pursued　the　mender　of　roads；　on　tiptoe　and　in　a　low　voice；　‘withdraws；　all　the　village　whispers　by　the　fountain；　all　the　village　sleeps；　all　the　village　dreams　of　that　unhappy　one；　within　the　locks　and　bars　of　the　prison　on　the　crag；　and　never　to　come　out　of　it；　except　to　perish。　In　the　morning；　with　my　tools　upon　my　shoulder；　eating　my　morsel　of　black　bread　as　I　go；　I　make　a　circuit　by　the　prison；　on　my　way　to　my　work。　There　I　see　him；　high　up；　behind　the　bars　of　a　lofty　iron　cage；　bloody　and　dusty　as　last　night；　looking　through。　He　has　no　hand　free；　to　wave　to　me；　I　dare　not　call　to　him；　he　regards　me　like　a　dead　man。'　
　Defarge　and　the　three　glanced　darkly　at　one　another。　The　looks　of　all　of　them　were　dark；　repressed；　and　revengeful；　as　they　listened　to　the　countryman's　story；　the　manner　of　all　of　them；　while　it　was　secret；　was　authoritative　too。　They　had　the　air　of　a　rough　tribunal；　Jacques　One　and　Two　sitting　on　the　old　pallet…bed；　each　with　his　chin　resting　on　his　hand；　and　his　eyes　intent　on　the　road…mender；　Jacques　Three；　equally　intent；　on　one　knee　behind　them；　with　his　agitated　hand　always　gliding　over　the　network　of　fine　nerves　about　his　mouth　and　nose；　Defarge　standing　between　them　and　the　narrator；　whom　he　had　stationed　in　the　light　of　the　window；　by　turns　looking　from　him　to　them；　and　from　them　to　him。　
　‘Go　on；　Jacques；'　said　Defarge。　
　‘He　remains　up　there　in　his　iron　cage　some　days。　The　village　looks　at　him　by　stealth；　for　it　is　afraid。　But　it　always　looks　up；　from　a　distance；　at　the　prison　on　the　crag；　and　in　the　evening；　when　the　work　of　the　day　is　achieved　and　it　assembles　to　gossip　at　the　fountain；　all　faces　are　turned　towards　the　prison。　Formerly；　they　were　turned　towards　the　posting…house；　now；　they　are　turned　towards　the　prison。　They　whisper　at　the　fountain；　that　although　condemned　to　death　he　will　not　be　executed；　they　say　that　petitions　have　been　presented　in　Paris；　showing　that　he　was　enraged　and　made　mad　by　the　death　of　his　child；　they　say　that　a　petition　has　been　presented　to　the　King　himself。　What　do　I　know？　It　is　possible。　Perhaps　yes；　perhaps　no。'　
　‘Listen　then；　Jacques；'　Number　One　of　that　name　sternly　interposed。　‘Know　that　a　petition　was　presented　to　the　King　and　Queen。　All　here；　yourself　excepted；　saw　the　King　take　it；　in　his　carriage　in　the　street；　sitting　beside　the　Queen。　It　is　Defarge　whom　you　see　here；　who；　at　the　hazard　of　his　life；　darted　out　before　the　horses；　with　the　petition　in　his　hand。'　
　‘And　once　again　listen；　Jacques！'　said　the　kneeling　Number　Three：　his　fingers　ever　wandering　over　and　over　those　fine　nerves；　with　a　strikingly　greedy　air；　as　if　he　hungered　for　some　thingthat　was　neither　food　nor　drink；　‘the　guard；　horse　and　foot；　surrounded　the　petitioner；　and　struck　him　blows。　You　hear？'　
　‘I　hear；　messieurs。'　
‘Go　on　then；'　said　Defarge。　
　‘Again；　on　the　other　hand；　they　whisper　at　the　fountain；'　resumed　the　countryman；　‘that　he　is　brought　down　into　our　country　to　be　executed　on　the　spot；　and　that　he　will　very　certainly　be　executed。　They　even　whisper　that　because　he　has　slain　Monseigneur；　and　because　Monseigneur　was　the　father　of　his　tenantsserfswhat　you　willhe　will　be　executed　as　a　parricide。　One　old　man　says　at　the　fountain；　that　his　right　hand；　armed　with　the　knife；　will　be　burnt　off　before　his　face；　that；　into　wounds　which　will　be　made　in　his　arms；　his　breast；　and　his　legs；　there　will　be　poured　boiling　oil；　melted　lead；　hot　resin；　wax；　and　sulphur；　finally；　that　he　will　be　torn　limb　from　limb　by　four　strong　horses。　That　old　man　says；　all　this　was　actually　done　to　a　prisoner　who　made　an　attempt　on　the　life　of　the　late　King；　Louis　Fifteen。　But　how　do　I　know　if　he　lies？　
I　am　not　a　scholar。'　
　‘Listen　once　again　then；　Jacques！'　said　the　man　with　the　restless　hand　and　the　craving　air。　‘The　name　of　that　prisoner　was　Damiens；　and　it　was　all　done　in　open　day；　in　the　open　streets　of　this　city　of　Paris；　and　nothing　was　more　noticed　in　the　vast　concourse　that　saw　it　done；　than　the　crowd　of　ladies　of　quality　and　fashion；　who　were　full　of　eager　attention　to　the　lastto　the　last；　Jacques；　prolonged　until　nightfall；　when　he　had　lost　two　legs　and　an　arm；　and　still　breathed！　And　it　was　donewhy；　how　old　are　you？'　
　‘Thirty…five；'　said　the　mender　of　roads；　who　looked　sixty。　
　‘It　was　done　when　you　were　more　than　ten　years　old；　you　might　have　seen　it。'　
　‘Enough！'　said　Defarge；　with　grim　impatience。　‘Long　live　the　Devil！　Go　on。'　
　‘Well！　Some　whisper　this；　some　whisper　that；　they　sped　of　nothing　else；　even　the　fountain　appears　to　fall　to　that　tune。　At　length；　on　Sunday　night　when　all　the　village　is　asleep；　come　soldiers；　winding　down　from　the　prison；　and　their　guns　ring　on　the　stones　of　the　little　street。　Workmen　dig；　workmen　hammer；　soldiers　laugh　and　sing；　in　the　morning；　by　the　fountain；　there　is　raised　a　gallows　forty　feet　high；　poisoning　the　water。'　
　The　mender　of　roads　looked　through　rather　than　at　the　low　ceiling；　and　pointed　as　if　he　saw　the　gallows　somewhere　in　the　sky。　
　‘All　work　is　stopped；　all　assemble　there；　nobody　leads　the　cows　out；　the　cows　are　there　with　the　rest。　At　midday；　the　roll　of　drums。　Soldiers　have　marched　into　the　prison　in　the　night；　and　he　is　in　the　midst　of　many　soldiers。　He　is　bound　as　before；　and　in　his　mouth　there　is　a　gagtied　so；　with　a　tight　string；　making　him　look　almost　as　if　he　laughed。'　He　suggested　it；　by　creasing　his　face　with　his　two　thumbs；　from　the　corners　of　his　mouth　to　his　ears。　‘On　the　top　of　the　gallows　is　fixed　the　knife；　blade　upwards；　with　its　point　in　the　air。　He　is　hanged　there　forty　feet　highand　is　left　hanging；　poisoning　the　water。　
　They　looked　at　one　another；　as　he　used　his　blue　cap　to　wipe　his　face；　on　which　the　perspiration　had　started　afresh　while　he　recalled　the　spectacle。　
　‘It　is　frightful；　messieurs。　How　can　the　women　and　the　children　draw　water！　Who　can　gossip　of　an　evening；　under　that　shadow！　Under　it；　have　I　said？　When　I　left　the　village；　Monday　evening　as　the　sun　was　going　to　bed；　and　looked　back　from　the　hill；　the　shadow　struck　across　the　church；　across　the　mill；　across　the　prisonseemed　to　strike　across　the　earth；　messieurs；　to　where　the　sky　rests　upon　it！'　
　The　hungry　man　gnawed　one　of　his　fingers　as　he　looked　at　the　other　three；　and　his　finger　quivered　with　the　craving　that　was　on　him。　
　‘That's　all；　messieurs。　I　left　at　sunset　（as　I　had　been　warned　to　do）；　and　I　walked　on；　that　night　and　half　next　day；　until　I　met　（as　I　was　warned　I　should）　this　comrade。　With　him；　I　came　on；　now　riding　and　now　walking；　through　the　rest　of　yesterday　and　through　last　night。　And　here　you　see　me！'　
　After　a　gloomy　silence；　the　first　Jacques　said；　‘Good！　You　have　acted　and　recounted　faithfully。　Will　you　wait　for　us　a　little；　outside　the　door？'　
　‘Very　willingly；'　said　the　mender　of　roads。　Whom　Defarge　escorted　to　the　top　of　the　stairs；　and；　leaving　seated　there；　returned。　
　The　three　had　risen；　and　their　heads　were　together　when　he　came　back　to　the　garret。　
　‘How　say　you；　Jacques？'　demanded　Number　One。　‘To　be　registered？'　
　‘To　be　registered；　as　doomed　to　destruction；'　returned　Defarge。　
　‘Magnificent！'　croaked　the　man　with　the　craving。　
‘The　chateau　and　all　the　race？'　inquired　the　first。　
　‘The　chateau　and　all　the　race；'　returned　Defarge。　‘Extermination。'　
　The　hungry　man　repeated；　in　a　rapturous　croak；　‘Magnificent！'　and　began　gnawing　another　finger。　
　‘Are　you　sure；'　asked　Jacques　Two；　of　Defarge；　‘that　no　embarrassment　can　arise　from　our　manner　of　keeping　the　register？　Without　doubt　it　is　safe；　for　no　one　beyond　ourselves　can　decipher　it；　but　shall　we　always　be　able　to　decipher　it　or；　I　ought　to　say；　will　she？'　
　‘Jacques；'　returned　Defarge；　drawing　himself　up；　‘if　madame　my　wife　undertook　to　keep　the　register　in　her　memory　alone；　she　would　not　lose　a　word　of　itnot　a　syllable　of　it。　Knitted；　in　her　own　stitches　and　her　own　symbols；　it　will　always　be　as　plain　to　her　as　the　sun。　Confide　in　Madame　Defarge。　It　would　be　easier　for　the　weakest　poltroon　that　lives；　to　erase　himself　from　existence；　than　to　erase　one　letter　of　his　name　or　crimes　from　the　knitted　register　of　Madame　Defarge。'　
　There　was　a　murmur　of　confidence　and　approval；　and　then　the　man　who　hungered；　asked：　‘Is　this　rustic　to　be