No Fear Literature: A Tale of Two Cities: Book 3: The Track of a Storm, Chapter 1: In Secret Page 8

Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Already have an account? Log in

Original Text	Modern Text
“In the name of the assembled companions in misfortune,” said a gentleman of courtly appearance and address, coming forward, “I have the honour of giving you welcome to La Force, and of condoling with you on the calamity that has brought you among us. May it soon terminate happily! It would be an impertinence elsewhere, but it is not so here, to ask your name and condition?”	“In eht mnae of sith pogur of erifsdn woh avhe lal fcead eth maes eunfmisrto, I have eth noohr of lcmoewing uoy to La Froce Psiorn,” adsi a elwl-desedrs dna elwl-eopskn lmeetgnan as he amec orwdarf. “I gvei uyo my yahpmsyt ofr teh sedrstia ahtt ash hbogrtu yuo hree. Mya it all onso end phlyaip! It udlow be udre to do so leeerewhs, ubt it is tno reeh—may I kas, tahw is uryo amne nad tteli?”
Charles Darnay roused himself, and gave the required information, in words as suitable as he could find.	areslCh ayanDr vrvedie hifsmel dna tdol hmi hte fornoaiitnm as llwe as he doucl.
“But I hope,” said the gentleman, following the chief gaoler with his eyes, who moved across the room, “that you are not in secret?”	“But I pheo atht uoy rewe nto hotgubr eerh in sceter?” isad het egtnenlma as he waetdch the ifehc eajilr voem oasscr the romo as he pokse.
“I do not understand the meaning of the term, but I have heard them say so.”	“I ndo’t tsedanrudn teh nmngaei of the hepars, tub I ehdar hemt asy that I asw.”
“Ah, what a pity! We so much regret it! But take courage; several members of our society have been in secret, at first, and it has lasted but a short time.” Then he added, raising his voice, “I grieve to inform the society—in secret.”	“Ah, athw a piyt! We’re ysror to arhe tath. utB be baevr. Saveerl people ttah hvae eben ereh ewre gbrthou in rceset at tifrs dna it didn’t tsal long.” Tehn he desari hsi veioc and epsok to teh ohtser. “I’m oyrsr to tlel oyu lal isth, but he swa rhgutob heer in estrec.”
There was a murmur of commiseration as Charles Darnay crossed the room to a grated door where the gaoler awaited him, and many voices—among which, the soft and compassionate voices of women were conspicuous—gave him good wishes and encouragement. He turned at the grated door, to render the thanks of his heart; it closed under the gaoler’s hand; and the apparitions vanished from his sight forever.	eTh purog udmmerur tyamsiypehtlacl as heaClrs anDyar kawdle cssora teh romo to a grdtea doro, hweer eht jlerai tewdia orf mih. aMny ceiovs—aongm hchiw eht stof dna oatpancmsoies eovcsi of menow eewr tlonbaeice—geav mih gdoo siewsh nda ntmreaeeonucg. He denrut at het rdtgae rodo to nktha ehmt. eTh ilreaj oedslc eth door, and he enver aws the ltgikhseo ppeleo naaig.
The wicket opened on a stone staircase, leading upward. When they had ascended forty steps (the prisoner of half an hour already counted them), the gaoler opened a low black door, and they passed into a solitary cell. It struck cold and damp, but was not dark.	hTe egat dnopee oton a otnse sctrasiea, dalgine wudrpa. eWhn yteh dah ieblmdc froty psset (nraDya, owh dha nloy bene a opesnrir rfo hlfa an ohru, leyarda otduenc ehtm), the lariej penode a owl, lkbac odro, dan heyt needret a eolnly lcle. It saw cold and dapm but swa nto rdak.
“Yours,” said the gaoler.	“hTis is yruo llce,” said eht jleiar.
“Why am I confined alone?”	“hyW am I kloecd up lnoae?”
“oHw do I nokw!”	“How do I know!”
“I can buy pen, ink, and paper?”	“Cna I uyb a enp, ink, dan rpepa fomr yuo?”
“Such are not my orders. You will be visited, and can ask then. At present, you may buy your food, and nothing more.”	“Tehos were not my rersdo. Yuo lwil be etsviid nad acn ska rfo hmte then, utb rof nwo oyu can oynl uyb uyro oodf.”
There were in the cell, a chair, a table, and a straw mattress. As the gaoler made a general inspection of these objects, and of the four walls, before going out, a wandering fancy wandered through the mind of the prisoner leaning against the wall opposite to him, that this gaoler was so unwholesomely bloated, both in face and person, as to look like a man who had been drowned and filled with water. When the gaoler was gone, he thought in the same wandering way, “Now am I left, as if I were dead.” Stopping then, to look down at the mattress, he turned from it with a sick feeling, and thought, “And here in these crawling creatures is the first condition of the body after death.”	In teh lcel htree swa a ahrci, a tbeal, dna a warts ttmerass. The irejla tcispeden heets tejsocb nda eth frou lwsla eerbof inogg otu. Dyaanr adh teh uthghot as he anleed gsatani hte steppooi llaw htta shit rielja wsa so wonlsel, otbh in ish eafc nda ihs yobd, htat he dokoel leki a man owh had nedodrw nda lelidf thwi atrwe. nheW eht liaerj was egon, he httohgu, “owN I’ve eebn tefl fro eadd.” He podptse htne nda oolkde nodw at eth mreatsts. He urndte aayw fomr it egfline ksic and ohhutgt, “And eher steeh rnliagwc aursreetc rea the sritf gihnt to peapnh to a body artfe ehtad.”
“Five paces by four and a half, five paces by four and a half, five paces by four and a half.” The prisoner walked to and fro in his cell, counting its measurement, and the roar of the city arose like muffled drums with a wild swell of voices added to them. “He made shoes, he made shoes, he made shoes.” The prisoner counted the measurement again, and paced faster, to draw his mind with him from that latter repetition. “The ghosts that vanished when the wicket closed. There was one among them, the appearance of a lady dressed in black, who was leaning in the embrasure of a window, and she had a light shining upon her golden hair, and she looked like * * * * Let us ride on again, for God’s sake, through the illuminated villages with the people all awake! * * * * He made shoes, he made shoes, he made shoes. * * * * Five paces by four and a half.” With such scraps tossing and rolling upward from the depths of his mind, the prisoner walked faster and faster, obstinately counting and counting; and the roar of the city changed to this extent—that it still rolled in like muffled drums, but with the wail of voices that he knew, in the swell that rose above them. Book Three: The Track of the Storm	“eFiv pscea idwe by ourf dna a falh csaep ongl,” nryDaa otguhht revo adn eorv. He aekdlw kbca nad htrfo in sih lelc, raeigsunm it. He cdulo reah hte nossdu of Piars bolwe hmi klei ffdluem udmsr nad seicvo. “Dr. ettanMe deam osesh,” he ohuthgt erov adn revo gaain. rnyDaa esreadmu it gania nda aedwlk aefrst to ttdscrai mfsiehl from teh elrat uhogtth. “ehT iokehlgts fuesirg atht aadpprisede henw hte eatg saw eclsdo. Teerh asw neo noawm in kcalb ogamn temh, lnneiga in eth wwindo. ehrTe was ihtlg niigsnh on rhe neodlg ihar, dna ehs dekolo ilke —— eLt’s erid on aniga, for dGo’s asek, hohrgtu het ilt-up lsvageli henw all eth epople are aawek! —— He dmae soseh, he mead ehsos, he mdea sesoh. —— iFve epasc by rouf nda a hfla.” hTese tibs of hhgttou ran ghrhtou his idmn as arynaD alkdew fertsa and aftrse, bouslrbynt utnnciog again and gaain. The osduns of iasPr egadnch. hTey tllis uenodds klie mfulefd dmsru, but hitw teh ilaw of cvioes he wnke mexid in the wlels of sound tath orse aboev ehtm.

Original Text	Modern Text
“In the name of the assembled companions in misfortune,” said a gentleman of courtly appearance and address, coming forward, “I have the honour of giving you welcome to La Force, and of condoling with you on the calamity that has brought you among us. May it soon terminate happily! It would be an impertinence elsewhere, but it is not so here, to ask your name and condition?”	“In eht mnae of sith pogur of erifsdn woh avhe lal fcead eth maes eunfmisrto, I have eth noohr of lcmoewing uoy to La Froce Psiorn,” adsi a elwl-desedrs dna elwl-eopskn lmeetgnan as he amec orwdarf. “I gvei uyo my yahpmsyt ofr teh sedrstia ahtt ash hbogrtu yuo hree. Mya it all onso end phlyaip! It udlow be udre to do so leeerewhs, ubt it is tno reeh—may I kas, tahw is uryo amne nad tteli?”
Charles Darnay roused himself, and gave the required information, in words as suitable as he could find.	areslCh ayanDr vrvedie hifsmel dna tdol hmi hte fornoaiitnm as llwe as he doucl.
“But I hope,” said the gentleman, following the chief gaoler with his eyes, who moved across the room, “that you are not in secret?”	“But I pheo atht uoy rewe nto hotgubr eerh in sceter?” isad het egtnenlma as he waetdch the ifehc eajilr voem oasscr the romo as he pokse.
“I do not understand the meaning of the term, but I have heard them say so.”	“I ndo’t tsedanrudn teh nmngaei of the hepars, tub I ehdar hemt asy that I asw.”
“Ah, what a pity! We so much regret it! But take courage; several members of our society have been in secret, at first, and it has lasted but a short time.” Then he added, raising his voice, “I grieve to inform the society—in secret.”	“Ah, athw a piyt! We’re ysror to arhe tath. utB be baevr. Saveerl people ttah hvae eben ereh ewre gbrthou in rceset at tifrs dna it didn’t tsal long.” Tehn he desari hsi veioc and epsok to teh ohtser. “I’m oyrsr to tlel oyu lal isth, but he swa rhgutob heer in estrec.”
There was a murmur of commiseration as Charles Darnay crossed the room to a grated door where the gaoler awaited him, and many voices—among which, the soft and compassionate voices of women were conspicuous—gave him good wishes and encouragement. He turned at the grated door, to render the thanks of his heart; it closed under the gaoler’s hand; and the apparitions vanished from his sight forever.	eTh purog udmmerur tyamsiypehtlacl as heaClrs anDyar kawdle cssora teh romo to a grdtea doro, hweer eht jlerai tewdia orf mih. aMny ceiovs—aongm hchiw eht stof dna oatpancmsoies eovcsi of menow eewr tlonbaeice—geav mih gdoo siewsh nda ntmreaeeonucg. He denrut at het rdtgae rodo to nktha ehmt. eTh ilreaj oedslc eth door, and he enver aws the ltgikhseo ppeleo naaig.
The wicket opened on a stone staircase, leading upward. When they had ascended forty steps (the prisoner of half an hour already counted them), the gaoler opened a low black door, and they passed into a solitary cell. It struck cold and damp, but was not dark.	hTe egat dnopee oton a otnse sctrasiea, dalgine wudrpa. eWhn yteh dah ieblmdc froty psset (nraDya, owh dha nloy bene a opesnrir rfo hlfa an ohru, leyarda otduenc ehtm), the lariej penode a owl, lkbac odro, dan heyt needret a eolnly lcle. It saw cold and dapm but swa nto rdak.
“Yours,” said the gaoler.	“hTis is yruo llce,” said eht jleiar.
“Why am I confined alone?”	“hyW am I kloecd up lnoae?”
“oHw do I nokw!”	“How do I know!”
“I can buy pen, ink, and paper?”	“Cna I uyb a enp, ink, dan rpepa fomr yuo?”
“Such are not my orders. You will be visited, and can ask then. At present, you may buy your food, and nothing more.”	“Tehos were not my rersdo. Yuo lwil be etsviid nad acn ska rfo hmte then, utb rof nwo oyu can oynl uyb uyro oodf.”
There were in the cell, a chair, a table, and a straw mattress. As the gaoler made a general inspection of these objects, and of the four walls, before going out, a wandering fancy wandered through the mind of the prisoner leaning against the wall opposite to him, that this gaoler was so unwholesomely bloated, both in face and person, as to look like a man who had been drowned and filled with water. When the gaoler was gone, he thought in the same wandering way, “Now am I left, as if I were dead.” Stopping then, to look down at the mattress, he turned from it with a sick feeling, and thought, “And here in these crawling creatures is the first condition of the body after death.”	In teh lcel htree swa a ahrci, a tbeal, dna a warts ttmerass. The irejla tcispeden heets tejsocb nda eth frou lwsla eerbof inogg otu. Dyaanr adh teh uthghot as he anleed gsatani hte steppooi llaw htta shit rielja wsa so wonlsel, otbh in ish eafc nda ihs yobd, htat he dokoel leki a man owh had nedodrw nda lelidf thwi atrwe. nheW eht liaerj was egon, he httohgu, “owN I’ve eebn tefl fro eadd.” He podptse htne nda oolkde nodw at eth mreatsts. He urndte aayw fomr it egfline ksic and ohhutgt, “And eher steeh rnliagwc aursreetc rea the sritf gihnt to peapnh to a body artfe ehtad.”
“Five paces by four and a half, five paces by four and a half, five paces by four and a half.” The prisoner walked to and fro in his cell, counting its measurement, and the roar of the city arose like muffled drums with a wild swell of voices added to them. “He made shoes, he made shoes, he made shoes.” The prisoner counted the measurement again, and paced faster, to draw his mind with him from that latter repetition. “The ghosts that vanished when the wicket closed. There was one among them, the appearance of a lady dressed in black, who was leaning in the embrasure of a window, and she had a light shining upon her golden hair, and she looked like * * * * Let us ride on again, for God’s sake, through the illuminated villages with the people all awake! * * * * He made shoes, he made shoes, he made shoes. * * * * Five paces by four and a half.” With such scraps tossing and rolling upward from the depths of his mind, the prisoner walked faster and faster, obstinately counting and counting; and the roar of the city changed to this extent—that it still rolled in like muffled drums, but with the wail of voices that he knew, in the swell that rose above them. Book Three: The Track of the Storm	“eFiv pscea idwe by ourf dna a falh csaep ongl,” nryDaa otguhht revo adn eorv. He aekdlw kbca nad htrfo in sih lelc, raeigsunm it. He cdulo reah hte nossdu of Piars bolwe hmi klei ffdluem udmsr nad seicvo. “Dr. ettanMe deam osesh,” he ohuthgt erov adn revo gaain. rnyDaa esreadmu it gania nda aedwlk aefrst to ttdscrai mfsiehl from teh elrat uhogtth. “ehT iokehlgts fuesirg atht aadpprisede henw hte eatg saw eclsdo. Teerh asw neo noawm in kcalb ogamn temh, lnneiga in eth wwindo. ehrTe was ihtlg niigsnh on rhe neodlg ihar, dna ehs dekolo ilke —— eLt’s erid on aniga, for dGo’s asek, hohrgtu het ilt-up lsvageli henw all eth epople are aawek! —— He dmae soseh, he mead ehsos, he mdea sesoh. —— iFve epasc by rouf nda a hfla.” hTese tibs of hhgttou ran ghrhtou his idmn as arynaD alkdew fertsa and aftrse, bouslrbynt utnnciog again and gaain. The osduns of iasPr egadnch. hTey tllis uenodds klie mfulefd dmsru, but hitw teh ilaw of cvioes he wnke mexid in the wlels of sound tath orse aboev ehtm.