A Tale of Two Cities Page #3

- It will be carried out.

- His last concern was for his younger sister.

She is now alone and unprotected.

I promised him I would do my best to save

her from the sport of that gallant gentleman.

- My parents... in our village...

- She would be safe there, I think.

Safe as any child of the people may

expect to be in this France of ours.

Then tomorrow, Defarge,

you will see to it.

I must go to my patient.

He went out of the door.

He never came back.

Murdered?

No, Miss Manette.

That was not his fate.

What, then, was the manner of his death?

Miss Manette, Miss Lucie,

all this time we have had

no word of what befell him

after he passed through that door.

We could only conjecture.

We never dared to hope.

And now, after eighteen

years, he has been found.

He is alive. Greatly changed, no doubt,

but who would not be after all those

years in that vilest of prisons?

The Bastille?

But he is alive, and free.

His old servant is taking

care of him, that same Defarge.

He later married the girl that he had protected,

and they now keep a wine shop in Paris.

It is there we are going tomorrow.

Oh, Mr Darnay!

Madam?

You are not Mr Darnay.

- Mr Carton.

- I'm so sorry.

But at your service, nevertheless.

I do beg your pardon, sir. I was under

the impression that you were someone else.

Would that I were!

Providing always that my awakening

was graced by so charming a lady.

Oh, come away! The man's not yet sober.

TWO such charming ladies.

Ah, you are ready.

- Where is that porter? Porter!

- Coming sir

I've been to the sea. Our

crossing should be tolerable.

At last. And the lady's baggage.

Oh, the good fortune of some gentlemen,

to be bound for France

with a fair lady for escort.

We are travelling to Paris,

sir, on a matter of business.

I see.

Then may I wish you an agreeable voyage?

And you, sir, an

agreeable business trip.

Goodbye, Prossie. Have

a good journey home.

Yes.

Perhaps... perhaps I may offer you

a small consolation, madam, for the

disappointment of being left behind.

Disappointment? If ever it was

intended that I should cross salt water,

do you suppose Providence would

have cast my lot on an island?

What a strange prejudice.

France has so much to commend her.

One cask only.

One only Monsieur Defarge

Even that is more than

they have the money to buy.

Ah, the people will soon

forget the very taste of wine.

Many of them have forgotten it already.

Aye, we taste nothing

but black bread and death.

We'd do well to bolt the door.

Once the tiger's tasted blood...

Tiger? Poor, crazed cattle.

Enough, Gaspard!

Your pardon, Monsieur.

Strangers are rare in this quarter.

I think you're looking for me.

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