第17章BOOKTHEFIRST：RECALLEDTOLIFE(17)

第17章bookthefirst：recalledtolife(17)

nohumanintelligencecouldhavereadthemysteriesofhismind，inthescaredblankwonderofhisface.whetherheknewwhathadhappened，whetherherecollectedwhattheyhadsaidtohim，whetherheknewthathewasfree，werequestionswhichnosagacitycouldhavesolved.theytriedspeakingtohim；but，hewassoconfused，andsoveryslowtoanswer，thattheytookfrightathisbewilderment，andagreedforthetimetotamperwithhimnomore.hehadawild，lostmannerofoccasionallyclaspinghisheadinhishands，thathadnotbeenseeninhimbefore；yet，hehadsomepleasureinthemeresoundofhisdaughter'svoice，andinvariablyturnedtoitwhenshespoke.

inthesubmissivewayofonelongaccustomedtoobeyundercoercion，heateanddrankwhattheygavehimtoeatanddrink，andputonthecloakandotherwrappings，thattheygavehimtowear.hereadilyrespondedtohisdaughter'sdrawingherarmthroughhis，andtook—andkept—herhandinbothhisown.

theybegantodescend；monsieurdefargegoingfirstwiththelamp，mr.lorryclosingthelittleprocession.theyhadnottraversedmanystepsofthelongmainstaircasewhenhestopped，andstaredattheroofandroundatthewalls.

'youremembertheplace，myfather？youremembercominguphere？'

'whatdidyousay？'

but，beforeshecouldrepeatthequestion，hemurmuredananswerasifshehadrepeatedit.

'remember？no，idon'tremember.itwassoverylongago.'

thathehadnorecollectionwhateverofhishavingbeenbroughtfromhisprisontothathouse，wasapparenttothem.theyheardhimmutter，'onehundredandfive，northtower'；andwhenhelookedabouthim，itevidentlywasforthestrongfortress-wallswhichhadlongencompassedhim.ontheirreachingthecourtyardheinstinctivelyalteredhistread，asbeinginexpectationofadrawbridge；andwhentherewasnodrawbridge，andhesawthecarriagewaitingintheopenstreet，hedroppedhisdaughter'shandandclaspedhisheadagain.

nocrowdwasaboutthedoor；nopeoplewerediscernibleatanyofthemanywindows；notevenachancepasser-bywasinthestreet.anunnaturalsilenceanddesertionreignedthere.onlyonesoulwastobeseen，andthatwasmadamedefarge—wholeanedagainstthedoor-post，knitting，andsawnothing.

theprisonerhadgotintoacoach，andhisdaughterhadfollowedhim，whenmr.lorry'sfeetwerearrestedonthestepbyhisasking，miserably，forhisshoemakingtoolsandtheunfinishedshoes.madamedefargeimmediatelycalledtoherhusbandthatshewouldgetthem，andwent，knitting，outofthelamplight，throughthecourtyard.shequicklybroughtthemdownandhandedthemin；—andimmediatelyafterwardsleanedagainstthedoor-post，knitting，andsawnothing.

defargegotuponthebox，andgavetheword'tothebarrier！'thepostilioncrackedhiswhip，andtheyclatteredawayunderthefeebleover-swinginglamps.

undertheover-swinginglamps—swingingeverbrighterinthebetterstreets，andeverdimmerintheworse—andbylightedshops，gaycrowds，illuminatedcoffee-houses，andtheatre-doors，tooneofthecitygates.soldierswithlanterns，attheguardhousethere.'yourpapers，travellers！''seeherethen，monsieurtheofficer，'saiddefarge，gettingdown，andtakinghimgravelyapart，'thesearethepapersofmonsieurinside，withthewhitehead.theywereconsignedtome，withhim，atthe—-'hedroppedhisvoice，therewasaflutteramongthemilitarylanterns，andoneofthembeinghandedintothecoachbyanarminuniform，theeyesconnectedwiththearmlooked，notaneverydayoraneverynightlook，atmonsieurwiththewhitehead.'itiswell.forward！'fromtheuniform.'adieu！'fromdefarge.andso，underashortgroveoffeeblerandfeeblerover-swinginglamps，outunderthegreatgroveofstars.

beneaththatarchofunmovedandeternallights；some，soremotefromthislittleearththatthelearnedtellusitisdoubtfulwhethertheirrayshaveevenyetdiscoveredit，asapointinspacewhereanythingissufferedordone：theshadowsofthenightwerebroadandblack.allthroughthecoldandrestlessinterval，untildawn，theyoncemorewhisperedintheearsofmr.jarvislorry—sittingoppositetheburiedmanwhohadbeendugout，andwonderingwhatsubtlepowerswereforeverlosttohim，andwhatwerecapableofrestoration—theoldinquiry：'ihopeyoucaretoberecalledtolife？'

andtheoldanswer：

'ican'tsay.'