voice and called out, "Citizen Doctor! Wife
of Evrémonde! Child of Evrémonde! Any
person but this miserable fool, answer the
Citizeness Defarge!"

Perhaps the following silence, perhaps some
latent disclosure in the expression of Miss
Pross's face, perhaps a sudden misgiving apart
from either suggestion, whispered to Madame
Defarge that they were gone. Three of the
doors she opened swiftly, and looked in.

"Those rooms are all in disorder, there has
been hurried packing, there are odds and ends
upon the ground. There is no one in that room
behind you! Let me look."

"Never!" said Miss Pross, who understood
the request as perfectly as Madame Defarge
understood the answer.

"If they are not in that room, they are gone,
and can be pursued and brought back," said
Madame Defarge to herself.

"As long as you don't know whether they are
in that room or not, you are uncertain what to
do," said Miss Pross to herself; "and you
shall not know that, if I can prevent your
knowing it; and know that, or not know that,
you shall not leave here while I can hold
you."

"I have been in the streets from the first,
nothing has stopped me, I will tear you to
pieces but I will have you from that door," said
Madame Defarge.

"We are alone at the top of a high house in
a solitary court-yard, we are not likely to be
heard, and I pray for bodily strength to keep
you here while every minute you are here is
worth a hundred thousand guineas to my
darling," said Miss Pross.

Madame Defarge made at the door. Miss Pross,
on the instinct of the moment, seized her round the
waist in both her arms, and held her tight. It was
in vain for Madame Defarge to struggle and to
strike; Miss Pross, with the vigorous tenacity
of love, always so much stronger than hate,
clasped her tight, and even lifted her from the
floor in the struggle that they had. The two
hands of Madame Defarge buffeted and tore at
her face; but, Miss Pross, with her head down,
held her round the waist, and clung to her
with more than the hold of a drowning
woman.

Soon, Madame Defarge' s hands ceased to
strike, and felt at her encircled waist. "It is
under my arm," said Miss Pross, in smothered
tones, "you shall not draw it. I am stronger
than you, I bless Heaven for it. I'll hold you
till one or other of us faints or dies!"

Madame Defarge's hands were at her bosom.
Miss Pross looked up, saw what it was, struck
at it, struck out a flash and a crash, and stood
alone blinded with smoke.

All this was in a second. As the smoke
cleared, leaving an awful stillness, it passed out
on the air, like the soul of the furious woman
whose body lay lifeless on the ground.

In the first fright and horror of her situation,
Miss Pross passed the body as far from it as she
could, and ran down the stairs to call for fruitless
help. Happily, she bethought herself of the
consequences of what she did, in time to check
herself and go back. It was dreadful to go in at
the door again; but, she did go in, and even went
near it, to get the bonnet and other things that
she must wear. These she put on, out on
the staircase, first shutting and locking the door
and taking away the key. She then sat down on
the stairs a few moments, to breathe and to cry,
and then got up and hurried away.

By good fortune she had a veil on her bonnet,
or she could hardly have gone along the streets
without being stopped. By good fortune, too,
she was naturally so peculiar in appearance as
not to show disfigurement like any other woman.
She needed both advantages, for the marks of
griping fingers were deep in her face, and her
hair was torn, and her dress (hastily composed
with unsteady hands) was clutched and dragged
a hundred ways.

In crossing the bridge, she dropped the door
key in the river. Arriving at the cathedral
some few minutes before her escort, and waiting
there, she thought, what if the key were already
taken in a net, what if it were identified, what
if the door were opened and the remains
discovered, what if she were stopped at the gate,
sent to prison, and charged with murder! In
the midst of these fluttering thoughts, the
escort appeared, took her in, and took her
away.

"Is there any noise in the streets?" she asked
him.

"The usual noises," Mr. Cruncher replied;
and looked surprised by the question and by her
aspect.

"I don't hear you," said Miss Pross. "What
do you say?"

It was in vain for Mr. Cruncher to repeat
what he said , Miss Pross could not hear him.
"So I'll nod my head," thought Mr. Cruncher,
amazed, "at all events she'll see that." And
she did.

"Is there any noise in the streets now?'
asked Miss Pross again, presently.

Again Mr. Cruncher nodded his head.

"I don't hear it."

"Gone deaf in a hour?" said Mr. Cruncher,
ruminating, with his mind much disturbed;
"wot's come to her?"

"I feel," said Miss Pross, "as if there had
been a flash and a crash, and that crash was the
last thing I should ever hear in this life."

"Blest if she ain't in a queer condition!"
said Mr. Cruncher, more and more disturbed.
"Wot can she have been a takin', to keep
her courage up? Hark! There's the roll
of them dreadful carts! You can hear that,
miss?"

"I can hear," said Miss Pross, seeing that he
spoke to her, "nothing. O, my good man,
there was first a great crash, and then a great
stillness, and that stillness seems to be fixed and
unchangeable, never to be broken any more
as long as my life lasts!"

"If she don't hear the roll of those dreadful
carts, now very nigh their journey's end," said