XIV. The Knitting Done
In that same juncture of time when the Fifty-Two awaited their fateMadame Defarge held darkly ominous council with The Vengeance andJacques Three of the Revolutionary Jury. Not in the wine-shop did MadameDefarge confer with these ministers, but in the shed of the wood-sawyer,erst a mender of roads. The sawyer himself did not participate in theconference, but abided at a little distance, like an outer satellite whowas not to speak until required, or to offer an opinion until invited.
But our Defarge, said Jacques Three, is undoubtedly a goodRepublican? Eh?
There is no better, the voluble Vengeance protested in her shrillnotes, in France.
Peace, little Vengeance, said Madame Defarge, laying her hand witha slight frown on her lieutenant's lips, hear me speak. My husband,fellow-citizen, is a good Republican and a bold man; he has deservedwell of the Republic, and possesses its confidence. But my husband hashis weaknesses, and he is so weak as to relent towards this Doctor.
It is a great pity, croaked Jacques Three, dubiously shaking his head,with his cruel fingers at his hungry mouth; it is not quite like a goodcitizen; it is a thing to regret.
See you, said madame, I care nothing for this Doctor, I. He may wearhis head or lose it, for any interest I have in him; it is all one tome. But, the Evremonde people are to be exterminated, and the wife andchild must follow the husband and father.
She has a fine head for it, croaked Jacques Three. I have seen blueeyes and golden hair there, and they looked charming when Samson heldthem up. Ogre that he was, he spoke like an epicure.
Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a little.
The child also, observed Jacques Three, with a meditative enjoymentof his words, has golden hair and blue eyes. And we seldom have a childthere. It is a pretty sight!
In a word, said Madame Defarge, coming out of her short abstraction,I cannot trust my husband in this matter. Not only do I feel, sincelast night, that I dare not confide to him the details of my projects;but also I feel that if I delay, there is danger of his giving warning,and then they might escape.
That must never be, croaked Jacques Three; no one must escape. Wehave not half enough as it is. We ought to have six score a day.
In a word, Madame Defarge went on, my husband has not my reason forpursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not his reason forregarding this Doctor with any sensibility. I must act for myself,therefore. Come hither, little citizen.
The wood-sawyer, who held her in the respect, and himself in thesubmission, of mortal fear, advanced with his hand to his red cap.
Touching those signals, little citizen, said Madame Defarge, sternly,that she made to the prisoners; you are ready to bear witness to themthis very day?
Ay, ay, why not! cried the sawyer. Every day, in all weathers, fromtwo to four, always signalling, sometimes with the little one, sometimeswithout. I know what I know. I have seen with my eyes.
He made all manner of gestures while he spoke, as if in incidentalimitation of some few of the great diversity of signals that he hadnever seen.
Clearly plots, said Jacques Three. Transparently!
There is no doubt of the Jury? inquired Madame Defarge, letting hereyes turn to him with a gloomy smile.
Rely upon the patriotic Jury, dear citizeness. I answer for myfellow-Jurymen.
Now, let me see, said Madame Defarge, pondering again. Yet once more!Can I spare this Doctor to my husband? I have no feeling either way. CanI spare him?
He would count as one head, observed Jacques Three, in a low voice.We really have not heads enough; it would be a pity, I think.
He was signalling with her when I saw her, argued Madame Defarge; Icannot speak of one without the other; and I must not be silent, andtrust the case wholly to him, this little citizen here. For, I am not abad witness.
The Vengeance and Jacques Three vied with each other in their ferventprotestations that she was the most admirable and marvellous ofwitnesses. The little citizen, not to be outdone, declared her to be acelestial witness.
He must take his chance, said Madame Defarge. No, I cannot sparehim! You are engaged at three o'clock; you are going to see the batch ofto-day executed.--You?
The question was addressed to the wood-sawyer, who hurriedly replied inthe affirmative: seizing the occasion to add that he was the most ardentof Republicans, and that he would be in effect the most desolate ofRepublicans, if anything prevented him from enjoying the pleasure ofsmoking his afternoon pipe in the contemplation of the droll nationalbarber. He was so very demonstrative herein, that he might have beensuspected (perhaps was, by the dark eyes that looked contemptuously athim out of Madame Defarge's head) of having his small individual fearsfor his own personal safety, every hour in the day.
I, said madame, am equally engaged at the same place. After it isover--say at eight to-night--come you to me, in Saint Antoine, and wewill give information against these people at my Section.
The wood-sawyer said he would be proud and flattered to attend thecitizeness. The citizeness looking at him, he became embarrassed, evadedher glance as a small dog would have done, retreated among his wood, andhid his confusion over the handle of his saw.
Madame Defarge beckoned the Juryman and The Vengeance a little nearer tothe door, and there expounded her further views to them thus:
She will now be at home, awaiting the moment of his death. She willbe mourning and grieving. She will be in a state of mind to impeach thejustice of the Republic. She will be full of sympathy with its enemies.I will go to her.
What an admirable woman; what an adorable woman! exclaimed JacquesThree, rapturously. Ah, my cherished! cried The Vengeance; andembraced her.
Take you my knitting, said Madame Defarge, placing it in herlieutenant's hands, and have it ready for me in my usual seat. Keepme my usual chair. Go you there, straight, for there will probably be agreater concourse than usual, to-day.
I willingly obey the orders of my Chief, said The Vengeance withalacrity, and kissing her cheek. You will not be late?
I shall be there before the commencement.
And before the tumbrils arrive. Be sure you are there, my soul, saidThe Vengeance, calling after her, for she had already turned into thestreet, before the tumbrils arrive!
Madame Defarge slightly waved her hand, to imply that she heard, andmight be relied upon to arrive in good time, and so went through themud, and round the corner of the prison wall. The Vengeance and theJuryman, looking after her as she walked away, were highly appreciativeof her fine figure, and her superb moral endowments.
There were many women at that time, upon whom the time laid a dreadfullydisfiguring hand; but, there was not one among them more to be dreadedthan this ruthless woman, now taking her way along the streets. Of astrong and fearless character, of shrewd sense and readiness, of greatdetermination, of that kind of beauty which not only seems to impartto its possessor firmness and animosity, but to strike into others aninstinctive recognition of those qualities; the troubled time would haveheaved her up, under any circumstances. But, imbued from her childhoodwith a brooding sense of wrong, and an inveterate hatred of a class,opportunity had developed her into a tigress. She was absolutely withoutpity. If she had ever had the virtue in her, it had quite gone out ofher.
It was nothing to her, that an innocent man was to die for the sins ofhis forefathers; she saw, not him, but them. It was nothing to her, thathis wife was to be made a widow and his daughter an orphan; that wasinsufficient punishment, because they were her natural enemies andher prey, and as such had no right to live. To appeal to her, was madehopeless by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she hadbeen laid low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in whichshe had been engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she hadbeen ordered to the axe to-morrow, would she have gone to it with anysofter feeling than a fierce desire to change places with the man whosent her there.
Such a heart Madame Defarge carried under her rough robe. Carelesslyworn, it was a becoming robe enough, in a certain weird way, and herdark hair looked rich under her coarse red cap. Lying hidden in herbosom, was a loaded pistol. Lying hidden at her waist, was a sharpeneddagger. Thus accoutred, and walking with the confident tread of sucha character, and with the supple freedom of a woman who had habituallywalked in her girlhood, bare-foot and bare-legged, on the brownsea-sand, Madame Defarge took her way along the streets.
Now, when the journey of the travelling coach, at that very momentwaiting for the completion of its load, had been planned out last night,the difficulty of taking Miss Pross in it had much engaged Mr. Lorry'sattention. It was not merely desirable to avoid overloading the coach,but it was of the highest importance that the time occupied in examiningit and its passengers, should be reduced to the utmost; since theirescape might depend on the saving of only a few seconds here and there.Finally, he had proposed, after anxious consideration, that Miss Prossand Jerry, who were at liberty to leave the city, should leave it atthree o'clock in the lightest-wheeled conveyance known to that period.Unencumbered with luggage, they would soon overtake the coach, and,passing it and preceding it on the road, would order its horses inadvance, and greatly facilitate its progress during the precious hoursof the night, when delay was the most to be dreaded.
Seeing in this arrangement the hope of rendering real service in thatpressing emergency, Miss Pross hailed it with joy. She and Jerry hadbeheld the coach start, had known who it was that Solomon brought, hadpassed some ten minutes in tortures of suspense, and were now concludingtheir arrangements to follow the coach, even as Madame Defarge,taking her way through the streets, now drew nearer and nearer to theelse-deserted lodging in which they held their consultation.
Now what do you think, Mr. Cruncher, said Miss Pross, whose agitationwas so great that she could hardly speak, or stand, or move, or live:what do you think of our not starting from this courtyard? Anothercarriage having already gone from here to-day, it might awakensuspicion.
My opinion, miss, returned Mr. Cruncher, is as you're right. Likewisewot I'll stand by you, right or wrong.
I am so distracted with fear and hope for our precious creatures, saidMiss Pross, wildly crying, that I am incapable of forming any plan. Are_you_ capable of forming any plan, my dear good Mr. Cruncher?
Respectin' a future spear o' life, miss, returned Mr. Cruncher, Ihope so. Respectin' any present use o' this here blessed old head o'mine, I think not. Would you do me the favour, miss, to take notice o'two promises and wows wot it is my wishes fur to record in this herecrisis?
Oh, for gracious sake! cried Miss Pross, still wildly crying, recordthem at once, and get them out of the way, like an excellent man.
First, said Mr. Cruncher, who was all in a tremble, and who spoke withan ashy and solemn visage, them poor things well out o' this, never nomore will I do it, never no more!
I am quite sure, Mr. Cruncher, returned Miss Pross, that younever will do it again, whatever it is, and I beg you not to think itnecessary to mention more particularly what it is.
No, miss, returned Jerry, it shall not be named to you. Second: thempoor things well out o' this, and never no more will I interfere withMrs. Cruncher's flopping, never no more!
Whatever housekeeping arrangement that may be, said Miss Pross,striving to dry her eyes and compose herself, I have no doubt itis best that Mrs. Cruncher should have it entirely under her ownsuperintendence.--O my poor darlings!
I go so far as to say, miss, moreover, proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with amost alarming tendency to hold forth as from a pulpit--and let my wordsbe took down and took to Mrs. Cruncher through yourself--that wot myopinions respectin' flopping has undergone a change, and that wot I onlyhope with all my heart as Mrs. Cruncher may be a flopping at the presenttime.
There, there, there! I hope she is, my dear man, cried the distractedMiss Pross, and I hope she finds it answering her expectations.
Forbid it, proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with additional solemnity,additional slowness, and additional tendency to hold forth and holdout, as anything wot I have ever said or done should be wisited on myearnest wishes for them poor creeturs now! Forbid it as we shouldn't allflop (if it was anyways conwenient) to get 'em out o' this here dismalrisk! Forbid it, miss! Wot I say, for-_bid_ it! This was Mr. Cruncher'sconclusion after a protracted but vain endeavour to find a better one.
And still Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets, camenearer and nearer.
If we ever get back to our native land, said Miss Pross, you may relyupon my telling Mrs. Cruncher as much as I may be able to remember andunderstand of what you have so impressively said; and at all eventsyou may be sure that I shall bear witness to your being thoroughly inearnest at this dreadful time. Now, pray let us think! My esteemed Mr.Cruncher, let us think!
Still, Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets, came nearerand nearer.
If you were to go before, said Miss Pross, and stop the vehicle andhorses from coming here, and were to wait somewhere for me; wouldn'tthat be best?
Mr. Cruncher thought it might be best.
Where could you wait for me? asked Miss Pross.
Mr. Cruncher was so bewildered that he could think of no locality butTemple Bar. Alas! Temple Bar was hundreds of miles away, and MadameDefarge was drawing very near indeed.
By the cathedral door, said Miss Pross. Would it be much out ofthe way, to take me in, near the great cathedral door between the twotowers?
No, miss, answered Mr. Cruncher.
Then, like the best of men, said Miss Pross, go to the posting-housestraight, and make that change.
I am doubtful, said Mr. Cruncher, hesitating and shaking his head,about leaving of you, you see. We don't know what may happen.
Heaven knows we don't, returned Miss Pross, but have no fear for me.Take me in at the cathedral, at Three o'Clock, or as near it as you can,and I am sure it will be better than our going from here. I feel certainof it. There! Bless you, Mr. Cruncher! Think-not of me, but of the livesthat may depend on both of us!
This exordium, and Miss Pross's two hands in quite agonised entreatyclasping his, decided Mr. Cruncher. With an encouraging nod or two, heimmediately went out to alter the arrangements, and left her by herselfto follow as she had proposed.
The having originated a precaution which was already in course ofexecution, was a great relief to Miss Pross. The necessity of composingher appearance so that it should attract no special notice in thestreets, was another relief. She looked at her watch, and it was twentyminutes past two. She had no time to lose, but must get ready at once.
Afraid, in her extreme perturbation, of the loneliness of the desertedrooms, and of half-imagined faces peeping from behind every open doorin them, Miss Pross got a basin of cold water and began laving her eyes,which were swollen and red. Haunted by her feverish apprehensions, shecould not bear to have her sight obscured for a minute at a time by thedripping water, but constantly paused and looked round to see that therewas no one watching her. In one of those pauses she recoiled and criedout, for she saw a figure standing in the room.
The basin fell to the ground broken, and the water flowed to the feet ofMadame Defarge. By strange stern ways, and through much staining blood,those feet had come to meet that water.
Madame Defarge looked coldly at her, and said, The wife of Evremonde;where is she?
It flashed upon Miss Pross's mind that the doors were all standing open,and would suggest the flight. Her first act was to shut them. There werefour in the room, and she shut them all. She then placed herself beforethe door of the chamber which Lucie had occupied.
Madame Defarge's dark eyes followed her through this rapid movement,and rested on her when it was finished. Miss Pross had nothing beautifulabout her; years had not tamed the wildness, or softened the grimness,of her appearance; but, she too was a determined woman in her differentway, and she measured Madame Defarge with her eyes, every inch.
You might, from your appearance, be the wife of Lucifer, said MissPross, in her breathing. Nevertheless, you shall not get the better ofme. I am an Englishwoman.
Madame Defarge looked at her scornfully, but still with something ofMiss Pross's own perception that they two were at bay. She saw a tight,hard, wiry woman before her, as Mr. Lorry had seen in the same figure awoman with a strong hand, in the years gone by. She knew full well thatMiss Pross was the family's devoted friend; Miss Pross knew full wellthat Madame Defarge was the family's malevolent enemy.
On my way yonder, said Madame Defarge, with a slight movement ofher hand towards the fatal spot, where they reserve my chair and myknitting for me, I am come to make my compliments to her in passing. Iwish to see her.
I know that your intentions are evil, said Miss Pross, and you maydepend upon it, I'll hold my own against them.
Each spoke in her own language; neither understood the other's words;both were very watchful, and intent to deduce from look and manner, whatthe unintelligible words meant.
It will do her no good to keep herself concealed from me at thismoment, said Madame Defarge. Good patriots will know what that means.Let me see her. Go tell her that I wish to see her. Do you hear?
If those eyes of yours were bed-winches, returned Miss Pross, and Iwas an English four-poster, they shouldn't loose a splinter of me. No,you wicked foreign woman; I am your match.
Madame Defarge was not likely to follow these idiomatic remarks indetail; but, she so far understood them as to perceive that she was setat naught.
Woman imbecile and pig-like! said Madame Defarge, frowning. I take noanswer from you. I demand to see her. Either tell her that I demandto see her, or stand out of the way of the door and let me go to her!This, with an angry explanatory wave of her right arm.
I little thought, said Miss Pross, that I should ever want tounderstand your nonsensical language; but I would give all I have,except the clothes I wear, to know whether you suspect the truth, or anypart of it.
Neither of them for a single moment released the other's eyes. MadameDefarge had not moved from the spot where she stood when Miss Prossfirst became aware of her; but, she now advanced one step.
I am a Briton, said Miss Pross, I am desperate. I don't care anEnglish Twopence for myself. I know that the longer I keep you here, thegreater hope there is for my Ladybird. I'll not leave a handful of thatdark hair upon your head, if you lay a finger on me!
Thus Miss Pross, with a shake of her head and a flash of her eyesbetween every rapid sentence, and every rapid sentence a whole breath.Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck a blow in her life.
But, her courage was of that emotional nature that it brought theirrepressible tears into her eyes. This was a courage that MadameDefarge so little comprehended as to mistake for weakness. Ha, ha! shelaughed, you poor wretch! What are you worth! I address myself to thatDoctor. Then she raised her voice and called out, Citizen Doctor! Wifeof Evremonde! Child of Evremonde! Any person but this miserable fool,answer the Citizeness Defarge!
Perhaps the following silence, perhaps some latent disclosure in theexpression of Miss Pross's face, perhaps a sudden misgiving apart fromeither suggestion, whispered to Madame Defarge that they were gone.Three of the doors she opened swiftly, and looked in.
Those rooms are all in disorder, there has been hurried packing, thereare odds and ends upon the ground. There is no one in that room behindyou! Let me look.
Never! said Miss Pross, who understood the request as perfectly asMadame Defarge understood the answer.
If they are not in that room, they are gone, and can be pursued andbrought back, said Madame Defarge to herself.
As long as you don't know whether they are in that room or not, you areuncertain what to do, said Miss Pross to herself; and you shall notknow that, if I can prevent your knowing it; and know that, or not knowthat, you shall not leave here while I can hold you.
I have been in the streets from the first, nothing has stopped me,I will tear you to pieces, but I will have you from that door, saidMadame Defarge.
We are alone at the top of a high house in a solitary courtyard, we arenot likely to be heard, and I pray for bodily strength to keep you here,while every minute you are here is worth a hundred thousand guineas tomy darling, said Miss Pross.
Madame Defarge made at the door. Miss Pross, on the instinct of themoment, seized her round the waist in both her arms, and held her tight.It was in vain for Madame Defarge to struggle and to strike; Miss Pross,with the vigorous tenacity of love, always so much stronger than hate,clasped her tight, and even lifted her from the floor in the strugglethat they had. The two hands of Madame Defarge buffeted and tore herface; but, Miss Pross, with her head down, held her round the waist, andclung to her with more than the hold of a drowning woman.
Soon, Madame Defarge's hands ceased to strike, and felt at her encircledwaist. It is under my arm, said Miss Pross, in smothered tones, youshall not draw it. I am stronger than you, I bless Heaven for it. I holdyou till one or other of us faints or dies!
Madame Defarge's hands were at her bosom. Miss Pross looked up, sawwhat it was, struck at it, struck out a flash and a crash, and stoodalone--blinded with smoke.
All this was in a second. As the smoke cleared, leaving an awfulstillness, it passed out on the air, like the soul of the furious womanwhose body lay lifeless on the ground.
In the first fright and horror of her situation, Miss Pross passed thebody as far from it as she could, and ran down the stairs to call forfruitless help. Happily, she bethought herself of the consequences ofwhat 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 ahundred ways.
In crossing the bridge, she dropped the door key in the river. Arrivingat the cathedral some few minutes before her escort, and waiting there,she thought, what if the key were already taken in a net, what ifit were identified, what if the door were opened and the remainsdiscovered, what if she were stopped at the gate, sent to prison, andcharged with murder! In the midst of these fluttering thoughts, theescort appeared, took her in, and took her away.
Is there any noise in the streets? she asked him.
The usual noises, Mr. Cruncher replied; and looked surprised by thequestion and by her aspect.
I don't hear you, said Miss Pross. What do you say?
It was in vain for Mr. Cruncher to repeat what he said; Miss Pross couldnot hear him. So I'll nod my head, thought Mr. Cruncher, amazed, atall events she'll see that. And she did.
Is there any noise in the streets now? asked Miss Pross again,presently.
Again Mr. Cruncher nodded his head.
I don't hear it.
Gone deaf in an hour? said Mr. Cruncher, ruminating, with his mindmuch disturbed; wot's come to her?
I feel, said Miss Pross, as if there had been a flash and a crash,and that crash was the last thing I should ever hear in this life.
Blest if she ain't in a queer condition! said Mr. Cruncher, more andmore disturbed. Wot can she have been a takin', to keep her courage up?Hark! There's the roll of them dreadful carts! You can hear that, miss?
I can hear, said Miss Pross, seeing that he spoke to her, nothing. O,my good man, there was first a great crash, and then a great stillness,and that stillness seems to be fixed and unchangeable, never to bebroken any more as long as my life lasts.
If she don't hear the roll of those dreadful carts, now very nigh theirjourney's end, said Mr. Cruncher, glancing over his shoulder, it's myopinion that indeed she never will hear anything else in this world.
And indeed she never did.