soldiers laugh and sing; in the morning, by the fountain, there is raised a gallows forty feet high, poisoning the water.'

The mender of roads looked through rather than at the low ceiling, and pointed as if he saw the gallows somewhere in the sky.

`All work is stopped, all assemble there, nobody leads the cows out, the cows are there with the rest. At midday, the roll of drums. Soldiers have marched into the prison in the night, and he is in the midst of many soldiers. He is bound as before, and in his mouth there is a gag--tied so, with a tight string, making him look almost as if he laughed.' He suggested it, by creasing his face with his two thumbs, from the corners of his mouth to his ears. `On the top of the gallows is fixed the knife, blade upwards, with its point in the air. He is hanged there forty feet high--and is left hanging, poisoning the water.

They looked at one another, as he used his blue cap to wipe his face, on which the perspiration had started afresh while he recalled the spectacle.

`It is frightful, messieurs. How can the women and the children draw water! Who can gossip of an evening, under that shadow! Under it, have I said? When I left the village, Monday evening as the sun was going to bed, and looked back from the hill, the shadow struck across the church, across the mill, across the prison--seemed to strike across the earth, messieurs, to where the sky rests upon it!'

The hungry man gnawed one of his fingers as he looked at the other three, and his finger quivered with the craving that was on him.

`That's all, messieurs. I left at sunset (as I had been warned to do), and I walked on, that night and half next day, until I met (as I was warned I should) this comrade. With him, I came on, now riding and now walking, through the rest of yesterday and through last night. And here you see me!'

After a gloomy silence, the first Jacques said, `Good! You have acted and recounted faithfully. Will you wait for us a little, outside the door?'

`Very willingly,' said the mender of roads. Whom Defarge escorted to the top of the stairs, and, leaving seated there, returned.

The three had risen, and their heads were together when he came back to the garret.

`How say you, Jacques?' demanded Number One. `To be registered?'

`To be registered, as doomed to destruction,' returned Defarge.

`Magnificent!' croaked the man with the craving.

`The château and all the race?' inquired the first.

`The château and all the race,' returned Defarge. `Extermination.'

The hungry man repeated, in a rapturous croak, `Magnificent!' and began gnawing another finger.

`Are you sure,' asked Jacques Two, of Defarge, `that no embarrassment can arise from our manner of keeping the register? Without doubt it is safe, for no one beyond ourselves can decipher it; but shall we always be able to decipher it or, I ought to say, will she?'

`Jacques,' returned Defarge, drawing himself up, `if madame my wife undertook to keep the register in her memory alone, she would not lose a word of it--not a syllable of it. Knitted, in her own stitches and her own symbols, it will always be as plain to her as the sun. Confide in Madame Defarge. It would be