Book the Third - The Track of a Storm
10. X. The Substance of the Shadow
(continued)
"It brought me here, it brought me to my grave. When I was clear of
the house, a black muffler was drawn tightly over my mouth from
behind, and my arms were pinioned. The two brothers crossed the road
from a dark corner, and identified me with a single gesture. The
Marquis took from his pocket the letter I had written, showed it me,
burnt it in the light of a lantern that was held, and extinguished
the ashes with his foot. Not a word was spoken. I was brought here,
I was brought to my living grave.
"If it had pleased GOD to put it in the hard heart of either of the
brothers, in all these frightful years, to grant me any tidings of my
dearest wife--so much as to let me know by a word whether alive or
dead--I might have thought that He had not quite abandoned them.
But, now I believe that the mark of the red cross is fatal to them,
and that they have no part in His mercies. And them and their
descendants, to the last of their race, I, Alexandre Manette, unhappy
prisoner, do this last night of the year 1767, in my unbearable agony,
denounce to the times when all these things shall be answered for.
I denounce them to Heaven and to earth."
A terrible sound arose when the reading of this document was done. A
sound of craving and eagerness that had nothing articulate in it but
blood. The narrative called up the most revengeful passions of the
time, and there was not a head in the nation but must have dropped
before it.
Little need, in presence of that tribunal and that auditory, to show
how the Defarges had not made the paper public, with the other
captured Bastille memorials borne in procession, and had kept it,
biding their time. Little need to show that this detested family
name had long been anathematised by Saint Antoine, and was wrought
into the fatal register. The man never trod ground whose virtues and
services would have sustained him in that place that day, against
such denunciation.
|