would be a weakness in the government to break
down in this attempt to practise for popularity
on the lowest national antipathies and fears, and
therefore Mr. Attorney-General had made the
most of it; how, nevertheless, it rested upon
nothing, save that vile and infamous character
of evidence too often disfiguring such cases, and
of which the State Trials of this country were
full. But, there My Lord interposed (with as
grave a face as if it had not been true), saying
that he could not sit upon that Bench and suffer
those allusions.

Mr. Stryver then called his few witnesses, and
Mr. Cruncher had next to attend while Mr.
Attorney-General turned the whole suit of clothes
Mr. Stryver had fitted on the jury, inside out;
showing how Barsad and Cly were even a
hundred times better than he had thought them, and
the prisoner a hundred times worse. Lastly,
came My Lord himself, turning the suit of
clothes, now inside out, now outside in, but on
the whole decidedly trimming and shaping them
into grave-clothes for the prisoner.

And now, the jury turned to consider, and the
great flies swarmed again.

Mr. Carton, who had so long sat looking at the
ceiling of the court, changed neither his place nor
his attitude, even in this excitement. While
his learned friend, Mr. Stryver, massing his
papers before him, whispered with those who sat
near, and from time to time glanced anxiously at
the jury; while all the spectators moved more
or less, and grouped themselves anew; while
even My Lord himself arose from his seat, and
slowly paced up and down his platform, not
unattended by a suspicion in the minds of the
audience that his state was feverish; this one
man sat leaning back, with his torn gown half off
him, his untidy wig put on just as it had
happened to light on his head after its removal, his
hands in his pockets, and his eyes on the ceiling
as they had been all day. Something especially
reckless in his demeanour, not only gave him a
disreputable look, but so diminished the strong
resemblance he undoubtedly bore to the prisoner
(which his momentary earnestness, when they were
compared together, had strengthened), that many
of the lookers-on, taking note of him now, said
to one another they would hardly have thought
the two were so alike. Mr. Cruncher made the
observation to his next neighbour, and added,
"I'd hold half a guinea that he don't get no law-
work to do. Don't look like the sort of one to
get any, do he?"

Yet, this Mr. Carton took in more of the details
of the scene than he appeared to take in; for
now, when Miss Manette's head dropped upon her
father's breast, he was the first to see it, and
to say audibly: "Officer! look to that young
lady. Help the gentleman to take her out.
Don't you see she will fall!"

There was much commiseration for her as she
was removed, and much sympathy with her father.
It had evidently been a great distress to him, to
have the days of his imprisonment recalled. He
had shown strong internal agitation when he
was questioned, and that pondering or brooding
look which made him old, had been upon him,
like a heavy cloud, ever since. As he passed out,
the jury, who had turned back and paused a
moment, spoke, through their foreman.

They were not agreed, and wished to retire.
My Lord (perhaps with George Washington on
his mind) showed some surprise that they were
not agreed, but signified his pleasure that they
should retire under watch and ward, and retired
himself. The trial had lasted all day, and the
lamps in the court were now being lighted. It
began to be rumoured that the jury would be
out a long while. The spectators dropped off
to get refreshment, and the prisoner withdrew
to the back of the dock, and sat down.

Mr. Lorry, who had gone out when the young
lady and her father went out, now reappeared,
and beckoned to Jerry: who, in the slackened
interest, could easily get near him.

"Jerry, if you wish to take something to eat,
you can. But, keep in the way. You will be
sure to hear when the jury come in. Don't be
a moment behind them, for I want you to take
the verdict back to the bank. You are the
quickest messenger I know, and will get to
Temple Bar long before I can."

Jerry had just enough forehead to knuckle,
and he knuckled it in acknowledgment of this
communication and a shilling. Mr. Carton came
up at the moment, and touched Mr. Lorry on
the arm.

"How is the young lady?"

"She is greatly distressed; but her father is
comforting her, and she feels the better for being
out of court."

"I'll tell the prisoner so. It won't do for a
respectable bank-gentleman like you, to be seen
speaking to him publicly, you know."

Mr. Lorry reddened, as if he were conscious
of having debated the point in his mind, and
Mr. Carton made his way to the outside of
the bar. The way out of court lay in that
direction, and Jerry followed him, all eyes, ears,
and spikes.

"Mr. Darnay!"

The prisoner came forward directly.

"You will naturally be anxious to hear of the
witness, Miss Manette. She will do very well.
You have seen the worst of her agitation."

"I am deeply sorry to have been the cause of
it. Could you tell her so for me, with my
fervent acknowledgments?"

"Yes, I could. I will, if you ask it."

Mr. Carton's manner was so careless as to be
almost insolent. He stood, half turned from
the prisoner, lounging with his elbow against the
bar.

"I do ask it. Accept my cordial thanks."

"What," said Carton, still only half turned
towards him, "do you expect, Mr. Darnay?"

"The worst."

"It's the wisest thing to expect, and the
likeliest. But I think their withdrawing is in
your favour."

Loitering on the way out of court not being
allowed, Jerry heard no more; but left them—so
like each other in feature, so unlike each other