A TALE OF TWO CITIES CHAPTERS 1-2

CHAPTER ONE

The road to Paris – 1775

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was the season of light, it was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of sadness. It was the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five.

In France there was a King and a Queen, and in England there was a King and a Queen. They believed that nothing would ever change. But in France things were bad, and getting worse. The people were poor, hungry and unhappy. The King made paper money and spent it, and the people had nothing to eat. Behind closed doors in the homes of the people, voices spoke in whispers against the King and his noblemen; they were only whispers, but they were the angry whispers of desperate people.

Late one November night, in that same year 1775, a coach going from London to Dover stopped at the top of a long hill. The horses were tired, but as they rested, the driver heard another horse coming fast up the hill behind them. The rider stopped his horse beside the coach and shouted:

'I want a passenger, Mr Jarvis Lorry, from Tellson's Bank in London.'

 'I am Mr Jarvis Lorry,' said one of the passengers, putting his head out of the window. 'What do you want?'

'It's me! Jerry, Jerry Cruncher, from Tellson's Bank, sir,' cried the man on the horse.

'What's the matter, Jerry?' called Mr Lorry.

'A message for you, Mr Lorry. You've got to wait at Dover for a young lady.'

'Very well, Jerry,' said Mr Lorry. 'Tell them my answer is - CAME BACK TO LIFE.'

It was a strange message, and a stranger answer. No one in the coach understood what they meant.

The next day Mr Lorry was sitting in his hotel in Dover when a young lady arrived. She was pretty, with golden hair and blue eyes, and Mr Lorry remembered a small child, almost a baby. He had carried her in his arms when he came from Calais to Dover, from France to England, many years ago. Mr Lorry asked the young lady to sit down.

'Miss Manette,' he said. 'I have a strange story to tell you, about one of the customers of Tellson's Bank. That's where I work.'

 'Yes, but I don't quite understand, Mr Lorry,' said the young lady. 'I received a message from Tellson's Bank, asking me to come here to meet you. I understood there was some news about my poor father's money. He died so long ago - before I was born. What is this story you want to tell me?'

'About twenty years ago, Miss Manette, a French doctor married an English lady. They had a daughter, but just before she was born, her father disappeared. Nobody knew what had happened to him. Not long afterwards his unhappy wife died, and their daughter was brought back to England.'

'But this is like my father's story, Mr Lorry. And wasn't it you who brought me back to England?'

'Yes, that's true, Miss Manette. Many years ago I brought you from France to England, and Tellson's Bank has taken care of you since then. You were told that your father had died. But think, Miss Manette. Perhaps your father wasn't dead. Perhaps he was in prison. Not because he had done something wrong! But just because he had a powerful enemy - an enemy with the power to send him to prison and to keep him there, hidden and forgotten, for eighteen years!'

'Can it be true? Is it possible that my father is still alive?' Lucie Manette stared at Mr Lorry. Her face was white and her hands trembled. 'It will be his ghost - not him!'

'No, Miss Manette,' said Mr Lorry gently. 'He is alive, but he has changed very much. Even his name had been forgotten! And we must ask no questions about the past, no questions at all. It would be too dangerous. He has been taken to the house of an old servant in Paris, and we are going there to bring him back to life.'        

CHAPTER TWO

A wine-shop in Paris

In the part of Paris called Saint Antoine everyone was poor. The streets were narrow and dirty, the food-shops were almost empty. The faces of the children looked old already, because they were so hungry. In the wine-shop of Monsieur Defarge there were not many customers and Defarge was outside, talking to a man in the street. His wife, Madame Defarge, sat inside the shop, knitting and watching. Defarge came in and his wife looked at him, then turned her eyes to look at two new customers, a man of about sixty and a young lady. Defarge went over to speak to them, suddenly kissed the young lady's hand, and led them out of the back of the shop.

They followed him upstairs, many stairs, until they reached the top. Defarge took a key out of his pocket.

'Why is the door locked?' asked Mr Lorry in surprise. 'He is a free man now.'

'Because he has lived too long behind a locked door,' replied Defarge angrily. 'He is afraid if the door is not locked!

'That is one of the things they have done to him.'

'I'm afraid, too,' whispered Miss Manette. Her blue eyes looked worriedly at Mr Lorry. 'I am afraid of him - of my father.'

Defarge made a lot of noise as he opened the door. Mr Lorry and Lucie went into the room behind him. A thin, white- haired man was sitting on a wooden seat. He was very busy, making shoes.

'Good day,' said Defarge. 'You are still working hard, I see.'

After a while they heard a whisper. 'Yes, I am still working.'

'Come,' said Defarge. 'You have a visitor. Tell him your name.'

'My name?' came the whisper. 'One Hundred and Five, North Tower.'

Mr Lorry moved closer to the old man. 'Dr Manette, don't you remember me, Jarvis Lorry?' he asked gently.

The old prisoner looked up at Mr Lorry, but there was no surprise, no understanding in his tired face, and he went back to work making shoes.

Slowly Lucie came near to the old man. After a while he noticed her.

'Who are you?' he asked.

 Lucie put her arms around the old man and held him, tears of happiness and sadness running down her face. From a little bag the old man took some golden hair. He looked at it, and then he looked at Lucie's hair. 'It is the same. How can it be?' He stared into Lucie's face. 'No, no, you are too young, too young.'

Through her tears Lucie tried to explain that she was the daughter he had never seen. The old man still did not understand, but he seemed to like the sound of Lucie's voice and the touch of her warm young hand on his.

Then Lucie said to Mr Lorry, 'I think we should leave Paris at once. Can you arrange it?'

'Yes, of course,' said Mr Lorry. 'But do you think he is able to travel?'

'He will be better far away from this city where he has lost so much of his life,' said Lucie.

'You are right,' said Defarge. 'And there are many other reasons why Dr Manette should leave France now.'

While Mr Lorry and Defarge went to arrange for a coach to take them out of Paris, Lucie sat with her father. Exhausted by the meeting, he fell asleep on the floor, and his daughter watched him quietly and patiently until it was time to go.

 When Mr Lorry returned, he and Defarge brought food and clothes for Dr Manette. The Doctor did everything they told him to do; he had been used to obeying orders for so many years. As he came down the stairs, Mr Lorry heard him say again and again, 'One Hundred and Five, North  Tower.'

When they went to the coach, only one person saw them go: Madame Defarge. She stood in the doorway, and knitted and watched, seeing everything ... and seeing nothing.