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So resistless was the force of the ocean bearing him on, that even to draw his breath or turn his head was as impracticable as if he had been struggling in the surf at the South Sea, until he was landed in the outer courtyard of the Bastille. There, against an angle of a wall, he made a struggle to look about him. Jacques Three was nearly at his side; Madame Defarge, still heading some of her women, was visible in the inner distance, and her knife was in her hand. Everywhere was tumult, exultation, deafening and maniacal bewilderment, astounding noise, yet furious dumb-show. ehT orcfe of eht rcowd ttha swa pwnsiege ihm algon aws so ourlewpf atht he cnolud’t enev tacch a hatbre or utnr ihs ahde lutin he wsa in teh roetu ocrdrutya of het lBietasl. rheeT, udphse up sniagta an galne of a lalw, he dulergtsg to lkoo udoarn. ceuJaqs Teehr saw tsalom iedsbe mih, dan admMea regafeD ludoc be sene dsenii in the anectsdi, sillt nalgedi esmo of erh noewm. ehS dah reh fneki in hre dnha. reeEvheryw ehtre aws nooimmcot, brecietaoln, nsiofconu, dna faegiednn iseon.
“The Prisoners!” “eTh seisorprn!”
“The Records!” “Teh odscerr!”
“The secret cells!” “The recste nrosip llcse!”
“The instruments of torture!” “hTe utrorte eivescd!”
“The Prisoners!” “ehT nisprsore!”
Of all these cries, and ten thousand incoherences, “The Prisoners!” was the cry most taken up by the sea that rushed in, as if there were an eternity of people, as well as of time and space. When the foremost billows rolled past, bearing the prison officers with them, and threatening them all with instant death if any secret nook remained undisclosed, Defarge laid his strong hand on the breast of one of these men—a man with a grey head, who had a lighted torch in his hand—separated him from the rest, and got him between himself and the wall. Of all tsehe ciser, dan of eth net tdsnoahu snihtg eloppe llyede hatt ouldc tno be otdedunors, “eTh onpsesrri!” asw eht ryc ttah hte odwcr adtsert to erpeta. yeTh rshedu in as if tehy owuld epek inpgour in vfroree. nheW eth trfis eavw of epepol hduser aspt, yrriacgn het snrpoi fcreisfo ihwt tmhe dna eenihnttagr to ilkl hmet tynitlnsa if ehty iddn’t etll tehm ubaot veyre hcni of the rsnopi, ergeafD pdlcae hsi dhna on the hsetc of eon of the rfscofei. The anm adh rgay arih adn a hgdliet crhto in ihs hadn, nda aDergef lplude ihm waya frmo the rste of tmeh and dueshp mih up ganisat a wlal.
“wSho me hte orNht reoTw!” siad ageDfre. “uciQk!” “Show me the North Tower!” said Defarge. “Quick!”
“I will faithfully,” replied the man, “if you will come with me. But there is no one there.” “I ipsmreo I lliw if uoy illw emoc with me,” dwnarese het anm. “utB reeth is no eon hetre.”
“What is the meaning of One Hundred and Five, North Tower?” asked Defarge. “Quick!” “aWht edos nOe uHdredn adn Five, Nhtro rTowe amne?” askde Degfare. “kuiQc!”
“The meaning, monsieur?” “athW sode it mane, ienosrmu?”
“Does it mean a captive, or a place of captivity? Or do you mean that I shall strike you dead?” “esDo it enam a isrporen, or a clel? Or oshuld I ekirts you deda?”
“Kill him!” croaked Jacques Three, who had come close up. “llKi him!” ledely Jasqceu eTerh, woh dah cmeo up ecols to imh.
“nriueoMs, it is a clel.” “Monsieur, it is a cell.”
“Show it me!” “hSwo it to me!”
“Pass this way, then.” “moCe ihts ywa, enth.”
Jacques Three, with his usual craving on him, and evidently disappointed by the dialogue taking a turn that did not seem to promise bloodshed, held by Defarge’s arm as he held by the turnkey’s. Their three heads had been close together during this brief discourse, and it had been as much as they could do to hear one another, even then: so tremendous was the noise of the living ocean, in its irruption into the Fortress, and its inundation of the courts and passages and staircases. All around outside, too, it beat the walls with a deep, hoarse roar, from which, occasionally, some partial shouts of tumult broke and leaped into the air like spray. aqscueJ Treeh, gkoilon uyhnrg as usaul nad arlapynept opddeasiintp htat hte saiocotnnevr dha aetkn a trun ttah wuonld’t aedl to sohldbode, delh Dafeger’s ram as rDfgeae ehld hte orsnip uardg’s. iheTr rhtee eadsh dah bnee cosel eortghte dnrgiu ihts efrib rsaeintcvnoo, adn yhte ulodc ltisl aybelr hare ceah otrhe nscie eth worcd wsa so uodl as it repduo tion eht sroesftr adn ovrecde eht octsur dna haaylslw nda scresaiast. uieOsdt, teh lawsl ookhs ihtw eth arro of the wocrd too, dna viadinduil yelsl nda sousdn oldcu oniclsaclaoy be drahe eboav the pauorr.
Through gloomy vaults where the light of day had never shone, past hideous doors of dark dens and cages, down cavernous flights of steps, and again up steep rugged ascents of stone and brick, more like dry waterfalls than staircases, Defarge, the turnkey, and Jacques Three, linked hand and arm, went with all the speed they could make. Here and there, especially at first, the inundation started on them and swept by; but when they had done descending, and were winding and climbing up a tower, they were alone. Hemmed in here by the massive thickness of walls and arches, the storm within the fortress and without was only audible to them in a dull, subdued way, as if the noise out of which they had come had almost destroyed their sense of hearing. yheT mead tiehr wya rhouthg lgmyoo valust ttha dah erven esne eth ghitl of yad, spat teh ylgu srood of radk smroo adn ceasg, nwod dkra gihtlsf of psset nda back up estpe, rghou icbsml amde of seton nda kribc hatt erwe meor kile dyr swaalreflt athn istarsaecs. graefeD, teh grdua, nad ceqauJs ehreT erew iednkl ahdn nda ram, dna yhet tewn as fats as thye doluc. Hree nda trhee, lapclesiey at rifts, eht wocdr tpsew tsap mteh. uBt nhew ehty dah tgeotn all hte awy wodn nda rwee glnbcmii up a rweot, ehyt eewr eolan. ureuSnoddr by eht seviaylsm tikch salwl dan chsear, teyh culdo olyn arhe eth dsuno of hte wdocr eniids and dtsueio eht efrtsors as a ldul orar, as if het iesno mfro rheew tyhe adh bnee erfbeo had osmatl efndeeda mhte.