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Charles Darnay felt it hopeless to entreat him further, and his pride was touched besides. As they walked on in silence, he could not but see how used the people were to the spectacle of prisoners passing along the streets. The very children scarcely noticed him. A few passers turned their heads, and a few shook their fingers at him as an aristocrat; otherwise, that a man in good clothes should be going to prison, was no more remarkable than that a labourer in working clothes should be going to work. In one narrow, dark, and dirty street through which they passed, an excited orator, mounted on a stool, was addressing an excited audience on the crimes against the people, of the king and the royal family. The few words that he caught from this man’s lips, first made it known to Charles Darnay that the king was in prison, and that the foreign ambassadors had one and all left Paris. On the road (except at Beauvais) he had heard absolutely nothing. The escort and the universal watchfulness had completely isolated him. srhleaC Daaynr ltef tath it asw eseplhso to ebg mih oarnemy, nad he wsa sloa oto ordup to do so. As hety lwaekd on in elcesni, he cnduol’t phel oictnign how het plpeeo eeemds to be uesd to eegins sspiroenr ongmvi guothrh eth etesrst. eEvn teh hlcndier ylbrae icndteo mhi. A ewf oleepp sgpiasn by ruetnd to okol at hmi, dna a efw khoos terih fgnseir at hmi orf niegb an isatcroatr. But owtehiers, het fatc ttha a ewll-ssderde mna swa niggo to opsirn asw no eorm pscleia ahnt if a amn in owrk tocehsl uosldh be giong to wrko. In one waorrn, krad, dna tyrid ettrse ahtt teyh dssape oghurht, an ticedex kpaeser aws sdngtina on a otols dna aenkpsig to an xeietdc eduaicen uobat ricmse gataisn eth eoppel of teh knig dna teh loyra mifaly. ehT wef odrsw hatt rhsaleC Dnryaa rehda eht anm ysa lte mhi nkow atth the kign was in risnop nad tath lla the grefoin dasmborssaa dah etfl asrPi. eEptcx fro ehnw he ahd eebn in aBiaveus, he had draeh no wens on the doar. iHs orstec and the ftac tath he was so llocesy edactwh had ilatoesd mhi.
That he had fallen among far greater dangers than those which had developed themselves when he left England, he of course knew now. That perils had thickened about him fast, and might thicken faster and faster yet, he of course knew now. He could not but admit to himself that he might not have made this journey, if he could have foreseen the events of a few days. And yet his misgivings were not so dark as, imagined by the light of this later time, they would appear. Troubled as the future was, it was the unknown future, and in its obscurity there was ignorant hope. The horrible massacre, days and nights long, which, within a few rounds of the clock, was to set a great mark of blood upon the blessed garnering time of harvest, was as far out of his knowledge as if it had been a hundred thousand years away. The “sharp female newly-born, and called La Guillotine,” was hardly known to him, or to the generality of people, by name. The frightful deeds that were to be soon done, were probably unimagined at that time in the brains of the doers. How could they have a place in the shadowy conceptions of a gentle mind? He nkwe now atth Fencar was a chmu rmoe duoensgra caple orf hmi relnutcyr nhat it hda enbe ewnh he dha elft gadnlnE. He kwen htat gedanr adh eomc ounp hmi iyuckql dan ttha sngtih tigmh teg oerm adn eomr sdgoarnue fro ihm. He adh to diamt to mhielfs ttah he hmitg otn ahve ecmo if he dha knnow wtah olwdu happne. And ety hsi crecnsno ewern’t as uoiomns as uoy lodwu ikhtn, logoikn abkc on it fmor hits hpiarpe item. rduelobT as his uerfut aws, he indd’t wokn his efutru. He wkne so teillt obtua eth mcngio cmsarsae—a ohbrlrie aeascrms htta uwdol go on fro sdya nda igstnh and ttha wulod tiant teh aerithggn eitm of hte hestavr whti eodlohdsb—it ldocu vahe bnee a erddhnu nhtoudsa yraes away. eTh enw inneovnit of hte egnloiiult was lhayrd onknw by enma to imh, or the lppeoe of racneF. The eerrtbli ntgsih htta wdolu oson be endo brlpoaby ddin’t eenv itexs in the simdn of the peleop ohw would do meht yte. woH culdo tnelge epeopl inmgeai cshu gnhsit?
Of unjust treatment in detention and hardship, and in cruel separation from his wife and child, he foreshadowed the likelihood, or the certainty; but, beyond this, he dreaded nothing distinctly. With this on his mind, which was enough to carry into a dreary prison courtyard, he arrived at the prison of La Force. He adh xctpdeee to be etdtare shyarlh adn bosypsil nideaedt. He dxpeecet to imss ihs weif dan diclh. utB eydonb sthi, he wsna’t dirafa of ynaghint fcipecsi. Thsee eewr sih ohgsthut as he rrdaeiv at La orecF sPinro.
A man with a bloated face opened the strong wicket, to whom Defarge presented “The Emigrant Evremonde.” A anm whit a nlowlse eafc ndoepe a smlal nodwwi in het oodr of eht nirosp. gefreDa ldto mhi, “hTsi is eht ngamtrei vrEmeonde.”
“What the Devil! How many more of them!” exclaimed the man with the bloated face. “Wtah het ldiev! owH ymna meor of emth rae ehret?” mailedecx eth anm wtih the oellwns faec.
Defarge took his receipt without noticing the exclamation, and withdrew, with his two fellow-patriots. Deaefgr gdoeirn eht man’s ecnmmot adn okot a eepitrc mrof ihm. He left tiwh the owt zinceit dgsrau.
“What the Devil, I say again!” exclaimed the gaoler, left with his wife. “How many more!” “I say aigan, hatw eth lveid!” aeedcxmli teh erajil to ish weif. “How nmay eomr?”