"He happened to be the only one."

"Never mind about 'happening,' Mr. Lorry.
He was the only passenger who came on board
in the dead of the night?"

"He was."

"Were you travelling alone, Mr. Lorry, or
with any companion?"

"With two companions. A gentleman and
lady. They are here."

"They are here. Had you any conversation
with the prisoner?"

"Hardly any. The weather was stormy, and
the passage long and rough, and I lay on a sofa,
almost from shore to shore."

"Miss Manette!"

The young lady, to whom all eyes had been
turned before, and were now turned again, stood
up where she had sat. Her father rose with her,
and kept her hand drawn through his arm.

"Miss Manette, look upon the prisoner."

To be confronted with such pity, and such
earnest youth and beauty, was far more trying
to the accused than to be confronted with all
the crowd. Standing, as it were, apart with her
on the edge of his grave, not all the staring
curiosity that looked on, could, for the moment,
nerve him to remain quite still. His hurried
right hand parcelled out the herbs before him
into imaginary beds of flowers in a garden; and
his efforts to control and steady his breathing,
shook the lips from which the colour rushed to
his heart. The buzz of the great flies was loud
again.

"Miss Manette, have you seen the prisoner
before?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where?"

"On board of the packet-ship just now
referred to, sir, and on the same occasion."

"You are the young lady just now referred
to?"

"O! most unhappily, I am!"

The plaintive tone of her compassion merged
into the less musical voice of the Judge, as he
said, something fiercely: "Answer the questions
put to you, and make no remark upon them."

"Miss Manette, had you any conversation
with the prisoner on that passage across the
Channel?"

"Yes, sir."

"Recal it."

In the midst of a profound stillness, she faintly
began:

"When the gentleman came on board——"

"Do you mean the prisoner?" inquired the
Judge, knitting his brows.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Then say the prisoner."

"When the prisoner came on board, he noticed
that my father," turning her eyes lovingly to him
as he stood beside her, "was much fatigued and
in a very weak state of health. My father was
so reduced, that I was afraid to take him out of
the air, and I had made a bed for him on the deck
near the cabin steps, and I sat on the deck at his
side to take care of him. There were no other
passengers that night, but we four. The prisoner
was so good as to beg permission to advise me
how I could shelter my father from the wind and
weather, better than I had done. I had not
known how to do it well, not understanding how
the wind would set when we were out of the
harbour. He did it for me. He expressed great
gentleness and kindness for my father's state,
and I am sure he felt it. That was the manner
of our beginning to speak together."

"Let me interrupt you for a moment. Had
he come on board alone?"

"No."

"How many were with him?"

"Two French gentlemen."

"Had they conferred together?"

"They had conferred together until the last
moment, when it was necessary for the French
gentlemen to be landed in their boat."

"Had any papers been handed about among
them, similar to these lists?"

"Some papers had been handed about among
them, but I don't know what papers."

"Like these in shape and size?"

"Possibly, but indeed I don't know, although
they stood whispering very near to me: because
they stood at the top of the cabin steps to have
the light of the lamp that was hanging there;
it was a dull lamp, and they spoke very low, and
I did not hear what they said, and saw only that
they looked at papers."

"Now, to the prisoner's conversation, Miss
Manette."

"The prisoner was as open in his confidence
with me—which arose out of my helpless situation
—as he was kind, and good, and useful to
my father. I hope," bursting into tears, "I
may not repay him by doing him harm to-day."

Buzzing from the blue-flies.

"Miss Manette, if the prisoner does not
perfectly understand that you give the evidence
which it is your duty to give—which you must
give—and which you cannot escape from giving
—with great unwillingness, he is the only person
present in that condition. Please to go on."

"He told me that he was travelling on
business of a delicate and difficult nature, which
might get people into trouble, and that he was
therefore travelling under an assumed name.
He said that this business had, within a few
days, taken him to France, and might, at intervals,
take him backwards and forwards between
France and England for a long time to come."

"Did he say anything about America, Miss
Manette? Be particular."

"He tried to explain to me how that quarrel
had arisen, and he said that, so far as he could
judge, it was a wrong and foolish one on
England's part. He added, in a jesting way, that
perhaps George Washington might gain almost
as great a name in history as George the
Third. But there was no harm in his way of
saving this: it was said laughingly, and to
beguile the time."

Any strongly marked expression of face on
the part of a chief actor in a scene of great
interest to whom many eyes are directed, will be
unconsciously imitated by the spectators. Her