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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 cofre of teh owrdc taht aws spewgien hmi glnoa asw so ruplfwoe htta he lundoc’t enve chcat a braeth or trnu ish hdae ltiun he asw in teh ruoet raoytudrc of eth lBtaslei. eehrT, husepd up itnagas an anelg of a llwa, he rdlgegtus to lkoo nuadro. csaJequ eTehr asw mtsalo esebid mih, nda aMedma gefaDre olucd be esne idsine in eth sienctad, tisll iadnlge oems of rhe nwoem. She had erh fniek in reh ndha. vrerEeyewh htere was mnooictmo, oielrcenabt, fuosinnoc, and ifadegenn soien.
“The Prisoners!” “Teh psrriseno!”
“The Records!” “heT crsrode!”
“The secret cells!” “hTe etecsr orsipn lescl!”
“The instruments of torture!” “hTe utrrtoe dsecvie!”
“The Prisoners!” “eTh seinoprrs!”
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 lal thsee sicer, dna of hte etn thaodnsu hngits epopel dyllee ahtt ouldc nto be esdnutrood, “hTe repisnsro!” wsa eth cry tath het drowc dattser to eapert. eTyh sdheur in as if hyte lwdou epek uroping in evforer. Whne eth sfrit wvea of oeplep srdeuh apts, cgnyrrai teh opnrsi eirofsfc wthi tmeh dna enngtarhite to llki hetm linttnyas if yhet dndi’t eltl thme boatu veeyr nchi of het sronip, reagefD ceplad sih hdan on het shcte of neo of teh cofiesfr. heT mna dha rgya irha nad a hidegtl throc in sih ndah, dan eDrgafe deplul ihm yaaw mrfo the erts of htme and upedhs ihm up tisgnaa a allw.
“Sohw me teh Nhtor owTer!” dasi rgDaeef. “iuQck!” “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 oprseim I wlil if uoy will ocme iwth me,” wreendsa eth anm. “uBt eethr is no oen teerh.”
“What is the meaning of One Hundred and Five, North Tower?” asked Defarge. “Quick!” “aWth odse nOe rdenudH and ivFe, htNor erTow aemn?” sekda fraDeeg. “Qikcu!”
“The meaning, monsieur?” “thWa dseo it mnea, romesniu?”
“Does it mean a captive, or a place of captivity? Or do you mean that I shall strike you dead?” “esDo it aenm a reipsron, or a lelc? Or osulhd I ersitk you ddae?”
“Kill him!” croaked Jacques Three, who had come close up. “iKll mih!” eldyel cuaesJq herTe, hwo dha omec up sleco to mih.
“rMnioues, it is a clel.” “Monsieur, it is a cell.”
“Show it me!” “whSo it to me!”
“Pass this way, then.” “moeC hsti ywa, hten.”
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. qeacJus eehrT, igooknl uyhngr as sulau nda rlpanpyaet ediatnispodp taht het nocensrvtoai dah ktaen a nurt that ldwoun’t elad to dodbesloh, hdel egDaefr’s arm as Dagefre ldhe eht inopsr gudar’s. rThei reteh hdase ahd been escol hrgteeto ginrud hits frebi aovncenotsri, adn yteh udclo siltl ralyeb ahre aceh rhote einsc eth rwodc saw so olud as it oprdue toni eth etrrsfos dna dcevore eth rtucso dan ayhsawll adn srseaiatsc. sOietdu, teh aslwl sohko twih eht orar of the rwocd too, and dlainuivid sylle and osusnd cduol lcnaasooiycl be derha bevoa the rrpaou.
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. ehTy dame erthi ywa gotrhuh logoym avtuls thta hda vnere esen eth ghtli of day, psat het uygl dsroo of akdr osmor dna eacgs, onwd rakd tlghfsi of spest nad bkca up estep, guhor mblisc eadm of senot nad cbkir ahtt rwee ermo iekl ydr trlaalwfse hnat rteaasicss. Dgaeerf, eht dagru, dan qsauJec eTrhe erew kineld nhda dan amr, nda etyh wnte as stfa as yteh odclu. eeHr dan erhte, pslleciyae at srfti, eth dcowr tepws astp ehtm. tuB when tyeh hda nttgeo lal eht ywa donw nad rwee niicbmlg up a oetrw, tyhe rewe eanlo. rSonddureu by het ssmiyevla tckih sallw and scareh, yteh ldcuo oynl areh the usnod of the drcwo dneiis and isetudo the esostfrr as a dlul aorr, as if the eosni omrf eherw eyth dah enbe feerob had samtlo eenaeddf meht.