IV
The
Preparation
When
the mail got successfully to
By
that time, there was only one adventurous traveller left be congratulated: for
the two others had been set down at their respective roadside destinations. The
mildewy inside of the coach, with its damp and dirty straw, its disageeable
smell, and its obscurity, was rather like a larger dog-kennel. Mr. Lorry, the
passenger, shaking himself out of it in chains of straw, a tangle of shaggy
wrapper, flapping hat, and muddy legs, was rather like a larger sort of dog.
"There
will be a packet to
"Yes,
sir, if the weather holds and the wind sets tolerable fair. The tide will serve
pretty nicely at about two in the afternoon, sir. Bed, sir?"
"I
shall not go to bed till night; but I want a bedroom, and a barber."
"And
then breakfast, sir? Yes, sir. That way, sir, if you please. Show
The
Concord bed-chamber being always assigned to a passenger by the mail, and
passengers by the mail being always heavily wrapped up from head to foot, the
room had the odd interest for the establishment of the Royal George, that
although but one kind of man was seen to go into it, all kinds and varieties of
men came out of it. Consequently, another drawer, and two porters, and several
maids and the landlady, were all loitering by accident at various points of the
road between the Concord and the coffee-room, when a gentleman of sixty,
formally dressed in a brown suit of clothes, pretty well worn, but very well
kept, with large square cuffs and large flaps to the pockets, passed along on
his way to his breakfast.
The
coffee-room had no other occupant, that forenoon, than the gentleman in brown.
His breakfast-table was drawn before the fire, and as he sat, with its light
shining on him, waiting for the meal, he sat so still, that he might have been
sitting for his portrait.
Very
orderly and methodical he looked, with a hand on each knee, and a loud watch
ticking a sonorous sermon under his flapped waist-coat, as though it pitted its
gravity and longevity against the levity and evanescence of the brisk fire. He
had a good leg, and was a little vain of it, for his brown stockings fitted
sleek and close, and were of a fine texture; his shoes and buckles, too, though
plain, were trim. He wore an odd little sleek crisp flaxen wig, setting very
close to his head: which wig, it is to be presumed, was made of hair, but which
looked far more as though it were spun from filaments of silk or glass. His linen,
though not of a fineness in accordance with his stockings, was as white as the
tops of the waves that broke upon the neighbouring beach, or the specks of sail
that glinted in the sunlight far at sea. A face habitually suppressed and
quieted, was still lighted up under the quaint wig by a pair of moist bright
eyes that it must have cost their owner, in years gone by, some pains to drill
to the composed and reserved expression of Tellson's Bank. He had a healthy
colour in his cheeks, and his face, though lined, bore few traces of anxiety.
But, perhaps the confidential bachelor clerks in Tellson's Bank were
principally occupied with the cares of other people; and perhaps second-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 any time
to-day. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or she may only ask for a gentleman
from Tellson's Bank. Please to let me know."
"Yes,
sir. Tellson's Bank in
"Yes."
"Yes,
sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your gentlemen in their
travelling backwards and forwards betwixt
"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, sir?"
"Not
of late years. It is fifteen years since we--since I-- came last from
"Indeed,
sir? That was before my time here, sir. Before our people's time here, sir. The
George was in other hands at that time, sir."
"I
believe so."
"But
I would hold a pretty wager, sir, that a House like Tellson and Company was
flourishing, a matter of fifty, not to speak of fifteen years ago?"
"You
might treble that, and say a hundred and fifty, yet not be far from the
truth."
"Indeed,
sir!"
Rounding
his mouth and both his eyes, as he stepped backward from the table, the waiter
shifted his napkin from his right arm to his left, dropped into a comfortable
attitude, and stood surveying the guest while he ate and drank, as from an
observatory or watchtower. According to the immemorial usage of waiters in all
ages.
When
Mr. Lorry had finished his breakfast, he went out for a stroll on the beach.
The little narrow, crooked town of
As
the day declined into the afternoon, and the air, which had been at intervals
clear enough to allow the French coast to be seen, became again charged with
mist and vapour, Mr. Lorry's thoughts seemed to cloud too. When it was dark,
and he sat before the coffee-room fire, awaiting his dinner as he had awaited
his breakfast, his mind was busily digging, digging, digging, in the live red
coals.
A
bottle of good claret after dinner does a digger in the red coals no harm,
otherwise than as it has a tendency to throw him out of work. Mr. Lorry had
been idle a long time, and had just poured out his last glassful of wine with
as complete an appearance of satisfaction as is ever to be found in an elderly
gentleman of a fresh complexion who has got to the end of a bottle, when a
rattling of wheels came up the narrow street, and rumbled into the inn-yard.
He
set down his glass untouched. "This is Mam'selle!" said he.
In
a very few minutes the waiter came in to announce that Miss Manette had arrived
from London, and would be happy to see the gentleman from Tellson's.
"So
soon?"
Miss
Manette had taken some refreshment on the road, and required none then, and was
extremely anxious to see the gentleman from Tellson's immediately, if it suited
his pleasure and convenience.
The
gentleman from Tellson's had nothing left for it but to empty his glass with an
air of stolid desperation, settle his odd little flaxen wig at the ears, and
follow the waiter to Miss Manette's apartment. It was a large, dark room,
furnished in a funereal manner with black horsehair, and loaded with heavy dark
tables. These had been oiled and oiled, until the two tall candles on the table
in the middle of the room were gloomily reflected on every leaf; as if THEY
were buried, in deep graves of black mahogany, and no light to speak of could
be expected from them until they were dug out.
The
obscurity was so difficult to penetrate that Mr. Lorry, picking his way over
the well-worn
Miss
Manette to be, for the moment, in some adjacent room, until, having got past
the two tall candles, he saw standing to receive him by the table between them
and the fire, a young lady of not more than seventeen, in a riding-cloak, and
still holding her straw travelling- hat by its ribbon in her hand. As his eyes
rested on a short, slight, pretty figure, a quantity of golden hair, a pair of
blue eyes that met his own with an inquiring look, and a forehead with a
singular capacity (remembering how young and smooth it was), of rifting and
knitting itself into an expression that was not quite one of perplexity, or
wonder, or alarm, or merely of a bright fixed attention, though it included all
the four expressions-as his eyes rested on these things, a sudden vivid
likeness passed before him, of a child whom he had held in his arms on the
passage across that very Channel, one cold time, when the hail drifted heavily
and the sea ran high. The likeness passed away, like a breath along the surface
of the gaunt pier-glass behind her, on the frame of which, a hospital
procession of negro cupids, several headless and all cripples, were offering
black baskets of
"Pray
take a seat, sir." In a very clear and pleasant young voice; a little
foreign in its accent, but a very little indeed.
"I
kiss your hand, miss," said Mr. Lorry, with the manners of an earlier
date, as he made his formal bow again, and took his seat.
"I
received a letter from the Bank, sir, yesterday, informing me that some
intelligence--or discovery--"
"The
word is not material, miss; either word will do."
"--respecting
the small property of my poor father, whom I never saw--so long dead--"
Mr.
Lorry moved in his chair, and cast a troubled look towards the hospital
procession of negro cupids. As if THEY had any help for anybody in their absurd
baskets!
"--rendered
it necessary that I should go to
"Myself."
"As
I was prepared to hear, sir."
She
curtseyed to him (young ladies made curtseys in those days), with a pretty
desire to convey to him that she felt how much older and wiser he was than she.
He made her another bow.
"I
replied to the Bank, sir, that as it was considered necessary, by those who
know, and who are so kind as to advise me, that I should go to France, and that
as I am an orphan and have no friend who could go with me, I should esteem it
highly if I might be permitted to place myself, during the journey, under that
worthy gentleman's protection. The gentleman had left
"I
was happy," said Mr. Lorry, "to be entrusted with the charge. I shall
be more happy to execute it."
"Sir,
I thank you indeed. I thank you very gratefully. It was told me by the Bank
that the gentleman would explain to me the details of the business, and that I
must prepare myself to find them of a surprising nature. I have done my best to
prepare myself, and I naturally have a strong and eager interest to know what
they are."
"Naturally,"
said Mr. Lorry. "Yes--I--"
After
a pause, he added, again settling the crisp flaxen wig at the ears, "It is
very difficult to begin."
He
did not begin, but, in his indecision, met her glance. The young forehead
lifted itself into that singular expression--but it was pretty and
characteristic, besides being singular--and she raised her hand, as if with an
involuntary action she caught at, or stayed some passing shadow.
"Are
you quite a stranger to me, sir?"
"Am
I not?" Mr. Lorry opened his hands, and extended them outwards with an
argumentative smile.
Between
the eyebrows and just over the little feminine nose, the line of which was as
delicate and fine as it was possible to be, the expression deepened itself as
she took her seat thoughtfully in the chair by which she had hitherto remained
standing. He watched her as she mused, and the moment she raised her eyes
again, went on:
"In
your adopted country, I presume, I cannot do better than address you as a young
English lady, Miss Manette?"
"If
you please, sir."
"Miss
Manette, I am a man of business. I have a business charge to acquit myself of.
In your reception of it, don't heed me any more than if I was a speaking
machine-truly, I am not much else. I will, with your leave, relate to you,
miss, the story of one of our customers."
"Story!"
He
seemed wilfully to mistake the word she had repeated, when he added, in a
hurry, "Yes, customers; in the banking business we usually call our
connection our customers. He was a French gentleman; a scientific gentleman; a
man of great acquirements-- a Doctor."
"Not
of
"Why,
yes, of
"At
that time--I may ask, at what time, sir?"
"I
speak, miss, of twenty years ago. He married--an English lady--and I was one of
the trustees. His affairs, like the affairs of many other French gentlemen and
French families, were entirely in Tellson's hands. In a similar way I am, or I
have been, trustee of one kind or other for scores of our customers. These are
mere business relations, miss; there is no friendship in them, no particular
interest, nothing like sentiment. I have passed from one to another, in the
course of my business life, just as I pass from one of our customers to another
in the course of my business day; in short, I have no feelings; I am a mere
machine. To go on--"
"But
this is my father's story, sir; and I begin to think" --the curiously
roughened forehead was very intent upon him--"that when I was left an
orphan through my mother's surviving my father only two years, it was you who
brought me to England. I am almost sure it was you."
Mr.
Lorry took the hesitating little hand that confidingly advanced to take his,
and he put it with some ceremony to his lips. He then conducted the young lady
straightway to her chair again, and, holding the chair-back with his left hand,
and using his right by turns to rub his chin, pull his wig at the ears, or
point what he said, stood looking down into her face while she sat looking up
into his.
"Miss
Manette, it WAS I. And you will see how truly I spoke of myself just now, in
saying I had no feelings, and that all the relations I hold with my
fellow-creatures are mere business relations, when you reflect that I have
never seen you since. No; you have been the ward of Tellson's House since, and
I have been busy with the other business of Tellson's House since. Feelings! I
have no time for them, no chance of them. I pass my whole life, miss, in
turning an immense pecuniary Mangle."
After
this odd description of his daily routine of employment, Mr. Lorry flattened
his flaxen wig upon his head with both hands (which was most unnecessary, for
nothing could be flatter than its shining surface was before), and resumed his
former attitude.
"So
far, miss (as you have remarked), this is the story of your regretted father.
Now comes the difference. If your father had not died when he did--Don't be
frightened! How you start!"
She
did, indeed, start. And she caught his wrist with both her hands.
"Pray,"
said Mr. Lorry, in a soothing tone, bringing his left hand from the back of the
chair to lay it on the supplicatory fingers that clasped him in so violent a
tremble: "pray control your agitation-- a matter of business. As I was
saying--"
Her
look so discomposed him that he stopped, wandered, and began anew:
"As
I was saying; if Monsieur Manette had not died; if he had suddenly and silently
disappeared; if he had been spirited away; if it had not been difficult to
guess to what dreadful place, though no art could trace him; if he had an enemy
in some compatriot who could exercise a privilege that I in my own time have
known the boldest people afraid to speak of in a whisper, across the water
there; for instance, the privilege of filling up blank forms for the
consignment of any one to the oblivion of a prison for any length of time; if
his wife had implored the king, the queen, the court, the clergy, for any
tidings of him, and all quite in vain;--then the history of your father would
have been the history of this unfortunate gentleman, the Doctor of
Beauvais."
"I
entreat you to tell me more, sir."
"I
will. I am going to. You can bear it?"
"I
can bear anything but the uncertainty you leave me in at this moment."
"You
speak collectedly, and you--ARE collected. That's good!" (Though his
manner was less satisfied than his words.) "A matter of business. Regard
it as a matter of business-business that must be done. Now if this doctor's
wife, though a lady of great courage and spirit, had suffered so intensely from
this cause before her little child was born--"
"The
little child was a daughter, sir."
"A
daughter. A-a-matter of business--don't be distressed. Miss, if the poor lady
had suffered so intensely before her little child was born, that she came to
the determination of sparing the poor child the inheritance of any part of the
agony she had known the pains of, by rearing her in the belief that her father
was dead-- No, don't kneel! In Heaven'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 transact business if I am
confused? Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindly mention now, for
instance, what nine times ninepence are, or how many shillings in twenty
guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be so much more at my ease about
your state of mind."
Without
directly answering to this appeal, she sat so still when he had very gently
raised her, and the hands that had not ceased to clasp his wrists were so much
more steady than they had been, that she communicated some reassurance to Mr.
Jarvis Lorry.
"That's
right, that's right. Courage! Business! You have business before you; useful business.
Miss Manette, your mother took this course with you. And when she died--I
believe broken-hearted-- having never slackened her unavailing search for your
father, she left you, at two years old, to grow to be blooming, beautiful, and
happy, without the dark cloud upon you of living in uncertainty whether your
father soon wore his heart out in prison, or wasted there through many
lingering years."
As
he said the words he looked down, with an admiring pity, on the flowing golden
hair; as if he pictured to himself that it might have been already tinged with
grey.
"You
know that your parents had no great possession, and that what they had was
secured to your mother and to you. There has been no new discovery, of money,
or of any other property; but--"
He
felt his wrist held closer, and he stopped. The expression in the forehead,
which had so particularly attracted his notice, and which was now immovable,
had deepened into one of pain and horror.
"But
he has been--been found. He is alive. Greatly changed, it is too probable;
almost a wreck, it is possible; though we will hope the best. Still, alive.
Your father has been taken to the house of an old servant in
A
shiver ran through her frame, and from it through his. She said, in a low,
distinct, awe-stricken voice, as if she were saying it in a dream,
"I
am going to see his Ghost! It will be his Ghost--not him!"
Mr.
Lorry quietly chafed the hands that held his arm. "There, there, there!
See now, see now! The best and the worst are known to you, now. You are well on
your way to the poor wronged gentleman, and, with a fair sea voyage, and a fair
land journey, you will be soon at his dear side."
She
repeated in the same tone, sunk to a whisper, "I have been free, I have
been happy, yet his Ghost has never haunted me!"
"Only
one thing more," said Mr. Lorry, laying stress upon it as a wholesome
means of enforcing her attention: "he has been found under another name;
his own, long forgotten or long concealed. It would be worse than useless now
to inquire which; worse than useless to seek to know whether he has been for
years overlooked, or always designedly held prisoner. It would be worse than
useless now to make any inquiries, because it would be dangerous. Better not to
mention the subject, anywhere or in any way, and to remove him--for a while at
all events-- out of
Perfectly
still and silent, and not even fallen back in her chair, she sat under his
hand, utterly insensible; with her eyes open and fixed upon him, and with that
last expression looking as if it were carved or branded into her forehead. So
close was her hold upon his arm, that he feared to detach himself lest he
should hurt her; therefore he called out loudly for assistance without moving.
A
wild-looking woman, whom even in his agitation, Mr. Lorry observed to be all of
a red colour, and to have red hair, and to be dressed in some extraordinary
tight-fitting fashion, and to have on her head a most wonderful bonnet like a
Grenadier wooden measure, and good measure too, or a great Stilton cheese, came
running into the room in advance of the inn servants, and soon settled the
question of his detachment from the poor young lady, by laying a brawny hand
upon his chest, and sending him flying back against the nearest wall.
("I
really think this must be a man!" was Mr. Lorry's breathless reflection,
simultaneously with his coming against the wall.)
"Why,
look at you all!" bawled this figure, addressing the inn servants.
"Why don't you go and fetch things, instead of standing there staring at
me? I am not so much to look at, am I? Why don't you go and fetch things? I'll
let you know, if you don't bring smelling-salts, cold water, and vinegar,
quick, I will."
There
was an immediate dispersal for these restoratives, and she softly laid the
patient on a sofa, and tended her with great skill and gentleness: calling her
"my precious!" and "my bird!" and spreading her golden hair
aside over her shoulders with great pride and care.
"And
you in brown!" she said, indignantly turning to Mr. Lorry; "couldn't
you tell her what you had to tell her, without frightening her to death? Look
at her, with her pretty pale face and her cold hands. Do you call THAT being a
Banker?"
Mr.
Lorry was so exceedingly disconcerted by a question so hard to answer, that he
could only look on, at a distance, with much feebler sympathy and humility,
while the strong woman, having banished the inn servants under the mysterious
penalty of "letting them know" something not mentioned if they stayed
there, staring, recovered her charge by a regular series of gradations, and
coaxed her to lay her drooping head upon her shoulder.
"I
hope she will do well now," said Mr. Lorry.
"No
thanks to you in brown, if she does. My darling pretty!"
"I
hope," said Mr. Lorry, after another pause of feeble sympathy and
humility, "that you accompany Miss Manette to
"A
likely thing, too!" replied the strong woman. "If it was ever
intended that I should go across salt water, do you suppose
This
being another question hard to answer, Mr. Jarvis Lorry withdrew to consider
it.