spectators. A life-thirsting, cannibal-looking, bloody-
minded juryman, the Jacques Three of Saint
Antoine. The whole jury, as a jury of dogs
empanelled to try the deer.

Every eye then turned to the five judges and
the public prosecutor. No favourable leaning
in that quarter, to-day. A fell, uncompromising,
murderous business-meaning there. Every eye
then sought some other eye in the crowd, and
gleamed at it approvingly; and heads nodded
at one another, before bending forward with a
strained attention.

Charles Evrémonde, called Darnay. Released
yesterday. Re-accused and re-taken yesterday.
Indictment delivered to him last night.
Suspected and Denounced enemy of the
Republic, Aristocrat, one of a family of tyrants,
one of a race proscribed, for that they had
used their abolished privileges to the infamous
oppression of the people. Charles Evrémonde,
called Darnay, in right of such proscription,
absolutely Dead in Law.

To this effect, in as few or fewer words, the
Public Prosecutor.

The President asked, was the Accused openly
denounced or secretly?

"Openly, President."

"By whom?"

"Three voices. Ernest Defarge, wine-vendor
of Saint Antoine."

"Good."

"Thérèse Defarge, his wife."

"Good."

"Alexandre Manette, physician."

A great uproar took place in the court, and in
the midst of it, Doctor Manette was seen, pale and
trembling, standing where he had been seated.

"President, I indignantly protest to you that
this is a forgery and a fraud. You know the
accused to be the husband of my daughter.
My daughter, and those dear to her, are far
dearer to me than my life. Who and where
is the false conspirator who says that I denounce
the husband of my child?"

"Citizen Manette, be tranquil. To fail in
submission to the authority of the Tribunal
would be to put yourself out of Law. As to
what is dearer to you than life, nothing can be
so dear to a good citizen as the Republic."

Loud acclamations hailed this rebuke. The
President rang his bell, and with warmth resumed.

"If the Republic should demand of you the
sacrifice of your child herself, you would have
no duty but to sacrifice her. Listen to what is
to follow. In the mean while, be silent!"

Frantic acclamations were again raised.
Doctor Manette sat down, with his eyes looking
around, and his lips trembling; his daughter
drew closer to him. The craving man on the
jury rubbed his hands together, and restored
the usual hand to his mouth.

Defarge was produced, when the court was
quiet enough to admit of his being heard, and
rapidly expounded the story of the imprisonment,
and of his having been a mere boy in the Doctor's
service, and of the release, and of the state of
the prisoner when released and delivered to him.

This short examination followed, for the court
was quick with its work.

"You did good service at the taking of the
Bastille, citizen?"

"I believe so."

Here, an excited woman screeched from the
crowd: "You were one of the best patriots
there. Why not say so? You were a cannonier
that day there, and you were among the first to
enter the accursed fortress when it fell. Patriots,
I speak the truth!"

It was The Vengeance who, amidst the warm
commendations of the audience, thus assisted
the proceedings. The President rang his bell;
but, The Vengeance, warming with encouragement,
shrieked, "I defy that bell!" wherein she
was likewise much commended.

"Inform the Tribunal of what you did that
day within the Bastille, citizen."

"I knew," said Defarge, looking down at his
wife, who stood at the bottom of the steps on
which he was raised, looking steadily up at him;
"I knew that this prisoner, of whom I speak,
had been confined in a cell known as One
Hundred and Five, North Tower. I knew it from
himself. He knew himself by no other name
than One Hundred and Five, North Tower,
when he made shoes under my care. As I serve
my gun that day, I resolve, when the place shall
fall, to examine that cell. It falls. I mount to the
cell, with a fellow-citizen who is one of the Jury,
directed by a gaoler. I examine it, very closely.
In a hole in the chimney, where a stone has been
worked out and replaced, I find a written paper.
This is that written paper. I have made it my
business to examine some specimens of the
writing of Doctor Manette. This is the writing
of Doctor Manette. I confide this paper, in the
writing of Doctor Manette, to the hands of
the President."

"Let it be read."

In a dead silence and stillness—the prisoner
under trial looking lovingly at his wife, his wife
only looking from him to look with solicitude at
her father, Doctor Manette keeping his eyes
fixed on the reader, Madame Defarge never
taking hers from the prisoner, Defarge never
taking his from his feasting wife, and all the
other eyes there intent upon the Doctor, who
saw none of them—the paper was read, as
follows.

LIFE.

LIFE is a tree, and we and all mankind
Are but the tender germ or fruit thereon.
Some born to blossom, some to fade away,
Some to endure the end by furthest stay.
And so it haps, at first in waxen buds
Doth Infancy appear; then Childhood, rich
In promise of the great hereafter, smiles
Amid its rosy bloom; and afterward
There cometh Boyhood, green in all device,
In whom as yet the stream of knowledge runs
But sour and undefined. Then followeth Man,
Assuming both the tone of rounder thought
And comeliness more sound. Hence anxious year,
With mellow grace do dwell within the minds
Until the heavy-laden weight of age