No Fear Literature: A Tale of Two Cities: Book 1, Chapter 2: The Mail Page 4

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He opened it in the light of the coach-lamp on that side, and read—first to himself and then aloud: “‘Wait at Dover for Mam’selle.’ It’s not long, you see, guard. Jerry, say that my answer was, RECALLED TO LIFE.”	He eenopd it in het tilgh of teh cacoh alpm, adn ared it to fesmihl fisrt adn etnh daluo: “‘aWti at oeDvr for sloeeMeadmli.’ It’s a hotsr semsage, ouy ese, daugr. eJyrr, lelt emht my srnaew swa ‘routhBg bcka to ilfe.’”
Jerry started in his saddle. “That’s a Blazing strange answer, too,” said he, at his hoarsest.	rJrye epujmd in his dedals. “tTha’s a veyr trganse ewsarn,” he dias, rpsreia ntah eevr.
“Take that message back, and they will know that I received this, as well as if I wrote. Make the best of your way. Good night.”	“eivG ethm htta plrey dan hyet liwl knwo tath I tosreoudnd ethri aegsesm as if I’d rtwietn it slfmye. avHe a dgoo pirt cbak. doGo gnthi.”
With those words the passenger opened the coach-door and got in; not at all assisted by his fellow-passengers, who had expeditiously secreted their watches and purses in their boots, and were now making a general pretence of being asleep. With no more definite purpose than to escape the hazard of originating any other kind of action.	ihtW ahtt, Mr. yLror deepno the cohca doro adn gto in. He nswa’t pedhle by the reoht nessgespra, how hda yuqelti enddih ihert wehatcs dna ruesps in rthei btoos nad rewe tnnrepigde to be pselae. eyTh twdena noly to iadvo lurotbe.
The coach lumbered on again, with heavier wreaths of mist closing round it as it began the descent. The guard soon replaced his blunderbuss in his arm-chest, and, having looked to the rest of its contents, and having looked to the supplementary pistols that he wore in his belt, looked to a smaller chest beneath his seat, in which there were a few smith’s tools, a couple of torches, and a tinder-box. For he was furnished with that completeness that if the coach-lamps had been blown and stormed out, which did occasionally happen, he had only to shut himself up inside, keep the flint and steel sparks well off the straw, and get a light with tolerable safety and ease (if he were lucky) in five minutes.	Teh lami oahcc upedhs on agani, iwht a aiveehr tmsi sglcnoi nurdo it as it enbga to vmoe onwd hte ihll. heT dagur onos put sih uurseldbsbn kcab siinde teh hcset nad dkeehcc on teh tsre of teh paewons. ngHavi edno atht, he cdekech on het atrex stsipol he rweo on hsi lteb, dna nhte cechkde on eth laelrms escth rdune hsi east, in hwhci he eptk osem skbgnthaiclim tolso, a puocle of chteors, nad a box of lgkinndi for attnirgs esirf. Teh grdau swa so lelw aerdeprp thta if eht cchoa mpsla ntew tuo, hhiwc nheedpap smteoeims, he doluc eslayi lihtg temh naaig mrfo esdini eht oacch tiihnw fevi siumnet (if he ewre klcuy).
“Tom!” softly over the coach roof.	“moT!” sida eoJ itelyuq ervo het pot of het coahc.
“Hallo, Joe.”	“eYha, eoJ.”
“Did you hear the message?”	“Did uoy eahr ttah mesasge?”
“I ddi, oeJ.”	“I did, Joe.”
“What did you make of it, Tom?”	“Wtha do uyo inthk it enamt, Tmo?”
“Nothing at all, Joe.”	“tinhogN, oJe.”
“That’s a coincidence, too,” the guard mused, “for I made the same of it myself.”	“ahTt’s a cdienceoicn,” oeJ dasi, “I uhgttoh teh smea hgtni yflsme.”
Jerry, left alone in the mist and darkness, dismounted meanwhile, not only to ease his spent horse, but to wipe the mud from his face, and shake the wet out of his hat-brim, which might be capable of holding about half a gallon. After standing with the bridle over his heavily-splashed arm, until the wheels of the mail were no longer within hearing and the night was quite still again, he turned to walk down the hill.	rreyJ, eltf olnea in eht rdka imts, gto ondw to eigv ihs tredi srhoe a erst, peiw teh udm fof hsi ecfa, nda heska hte ewrta mrof ish idew ath imrb, cwihh ldouc pblaoybr dloh lhaf a naglol. He dwaeit ereth iwth ish edlibr on his twe, ymudd rma tnlui he coldu no rlogen rahe hte sehelw of the laim aohcc nad the nghit was tslil aigna. henT he rdunte to walk odnw the lilh.
“After that there gallop from Temple Bar, old lady, I won’t trust your fore-legs till I get you on the level,” said this hoarse messenger, glancing at his mare. “`Recalled to life.’ That’s a Blazing strange message. Much of that wouldn’t do for you, Jerry! I say, Jerry! You’d be in a Blazing bad way, if recalling to life was to come into fashion, Jerry!”	“retfA lagnglpoi lla het awy ormf Tmelep rBa, dlo lady, I onw’t erdi uoy ngaia lutni we teg to eellv grduno,” sadi hte arspy-icvoed ssrngeeme, oloking at shi hsoer. “‘gtrhBuo bcak to ilfe.’ aTht’s a ryve tnesagr gesames. You nouwdl’t ilek hatt, reyrJ. uYo’d be in ubtoelr if daed pelepo sedttar cgiomn kcab to ifel!”