Chapter 32 Chapter 24 Drifting to the Magnetic Reef

Three years of storms and storms passed in such a raging fire and turbulent crowds-an angry ocean, one wave higher than the other, hitting the solid ground, always rushing forward, never retreating, so that people on the shore can see Terrified, dazzled.The golden threads of little Lucy's three birthdays were woven again into the peaceful warp and woof of her home life. How many days and nights have the people in that room listened to the echo of the street corner, and they can't help being flustered when they hear the many chaotic footsteps.For that voice had become in their hearts the footsteps of a people, which galloped beneath a red banner, declaring their country in peril, and transformed into wild beasts by a long-lasting magic.

Gentlemen are no longer appreciated.They were no longer needed in France, and were in danger of being driven out altogether, even with their lives, but the gentlemen as a class had dissociated themselves from this phenomenon.Just like the bumpkin in the fable, he took great pains to get the devil out, but the devil was so frightened that he ran away immediately, never daring to ask him any more questions.So, too, gentlemen, after years of boldly saying the Lord's Prayer backwards, and after many powerful spells for summoning the devil, at last behold the hideous form of the devil, and run away with his noble feet.

Gone are the jeweled bull's-eye lanterns of court, which would have been riddled with holes by the bullet storms of the country.Lights can never be trusted to illuminate problems.They had their faults, the pride of Lucifer, the luxury of Sadanapalas and the blindness of the Mole--but they were outdated and gone.The court, from its exclusive core to its outermost rotten circle of insidiousness, avarice, and luxury, disappeared.Kingship disappeared: first besieged in the palace, then "suspended" when the last word arrived. August 1792 has arrived, and the gentlemen have already fled to the ends of the earth.

It is only natural that the gentlemen should have their London headquarters and conference halls at Tellson's Bank.It is said that ghosts like to haunt the places they used to visit in life, so gentlemen who have no money often haunt the places where they used to save money.Besides, the news about France comes the fastest and is the most reliable there.Besides, Tellson's Bank is a most generous place, and often gives generous assistance to regular customers who have fallen from their high positions.And those nobles who had foreseen the approaching storm in time, and saw the danger of looting and confiscation, and wired their money to Tellson's Bank in advance, had always had their needy brethren to inquire.It must be added that every person coming from France was almost as a matter of course to report to Tellsons, and at the same time to report his whereabouts.For reasons such as these, Tellson's Bank was at that time practically the superior exchange of French intelligence.Since the matter was well known, there was an endless stream of people who came to inquire about the news. Tellson sometimes wrote a summary of the latest news and posted it on the wall of the bank for people passing by the London Law Society to watch.

One foggy and dreary afternoon, Mr. Lorry sat at his desk, and Charles Darnay stood by it, talking to him in a low voice.This was the confession room in those days, and later served as the reception room of the "bank authority", and now it has become a news exchange station, and it is too crowded.It was less than half an hour before closing time. "But even if you were the youngest man in the world," said Charles Darnay, rather hesitantly, "I would still suggest that you—" "I see. You mean to say I'm too old?" said Mr. Lorry. "The climate is changeable, the road is long, and the means of travel are not sure, plus a country that is torn apart, and a city that is not safe even if you are afraid."

"My dear Charles," said Mr. Lorry, blithely and confidently, "you've hit on why I should go, and not why I shouldn't. It's safe for me to go. There are so many people worth disturbing, who Will come to disturb me, an old man who is almost eighty years old! As for the city chaos, if it is not because of the city chaos, why would this bank send someone to the other bank--they must be people that Tellson trusts and understand People who are in the same situation in the border cities and business. As for the long distance, difficult transportation and winter weather, I have been in Tellson for so many years, if the bank has difficulties, who should I go to?"

"I wish I could," said Charles Darnay, with a little discomfort, as if talking to himself. "That's enough! It's so hard to advise you, or to oppose you!" cried Mr. Lorry. "You were born in France, and you want to go? You've got an idea!" "My dear Mr. Lorry, it is precisely because I was born in France that I have often thought this way (though I do not intend to go into detail here). I have a certain sympathy for the suffering people, and I have given up something to them, so I can't help thinking that people will listen to me, and that I might have the power to persuade them to play it safe," he said at this point, returning to his usual reflective attitude, "just after you left last night, I talked to Lou. Let's talk about one by one"

You talk to Lucy," repeated Rory, "yes.I don't understand why you don't blush at the mention of Lucy's name!To think of going to France at such a time! " "But I didn't go," said Charles Darnay, smiling. "It's because you said you were going to France that I said so." "But I do want to go to France. The fact is, my dear Charles," Mr. Lorry lowered his voice, glancing at the "banking authorities" in the distance, "you can't imagine how difficult it is for us to do business. How dangerous are the books and papers. God only knows how bad it would be if some of our papers were snatched or destroyed. And that's quite possible. Because, you know, nobody can guarantee that Paris The city will not be destroyed by fire today, and it will not be looted tomorrow! Now it is necessary to make an accurate selection of these account books and bury them in the ground or hide them in a safe place. —if anyone else can do it—and no one else can do it without wasting precious time. Tellson knows this and has made a request. Can I back down? Tellson Sixty years' worth of bread! Have I flinched just because my joints are a little stiff? Well, I'm still a baby in front of half a dozen queer old men!"

"I really admire your chivalrous spirit, Mr. Lorry." "Huh! Nonsense, sir—my dear Charles," said Mr. Lorry, casting another glance at the "banking authorities." "You have to remember that under the present circumstances it is almost impossible to get anything out of Paris. Just these days some eccentrics you can't even imagine bring us papers and precious things. Every day When a person passes through the checkpoint, his head is hung on a strand of hair. (I must keep this secret to you, even if I mention it quietly, it violates the rules of doing business.) In other cases, our packages can pass freely , as in commercial England, but not now."

"Are you really leaving tonight?" "I really have to go, because the situation is urgent and no delay is allowed." "Aren't you bringing anyone with you?" "All kinds of people have been suggested to me, but I don't have an opinion on them. I'm going to take Jerry. Jerry has been my Sunday night bodyguard for a long time, used to it. No one will doubt Jerry except being There would be something else in his head than an English mastiff, something else on his mind than jumping on his master's assailant." "I have to say it again, I sincerely admire your chivalrous spirit when you are young and strong."

"I have to say it again, nonsense, nonsense! After I finish this little task, I may accept Tellson's suggestion and retire to enjoy a few days of happiness. Then it's okay to think about life's easy aging. Night." These remarks were made at Mr. Lorry's usual desk, when the lords were thronging a yard or two before it, boasting that the rascals would soon be executed. punish.Both the hapless gentlemen who had become refugees and the native legitimists in England felt that this terrible revolution was the only evil in the world that did not sow the seeds but produced them.It was their general train of thought, as if the revolution had not been caused by something done, or not done; suffering and the waste and misuse of resources that could have been used for the benefit of the people); as if they had not recorded their observations in clear words.Such nonsense, and all the fanciful schemes of the gentlemen (who are trying to re-implement the schemes that made the people rich and angry and resentful), no one with a clear head and a clear understanding of the truth can bear it without dissenting.Charles Darnay's ears were now full of such arguments, and they made him feel as if the blood in his head had become confused, which was all the more disturbed by the hidden guilt which had already disturbed him. Stryver, solicitor of the Royal High Court, was also among the speakers, and he was at the height of his prosperity, and his voice was particularly loud when he started talking.He was laying out his plan to the gentlemen: how to blow up the people, wipe them off the face of the earth, and live without them.Plus some ideas like salting tails to kill eagles.Darnay was particularly disgusted by his words.Just as Darnay considered whether to walk away and not listen, or to stay and intervene, what was destined to happen happened. The "Banking Authorities" came to Mr. Lorry, placed before him a dirty, unopened letter, and asked him if he had discovered any clue of its addressee.The letter was placed so close to Darnay that he saw the name and address--at a glance, for it was his original name.The cover translated into English is "Urgent. Please transfer to the former Marquis de Saint-Evremonde of France, Tellson & Co., London, England." On the morning of the wedding, Dr. Manette had made strict and special demands of Charles Darnay that the secrecy of the name must be kept secret, and that it should not be revealed, unless the doctor agreed to lift the secrecy.So no one else knew that it was his name, not his wife, much less Mr. Lorry. "No," replied Mr. Lorry to the "authorities," "I have asked everyone here, and no one can give me the gentleman's address." The hands of the clock were approaching closing time, and a large group of people were talking and passing by Mr. Lorry's desk. Mr. Lorry took out a letter and asked them about it.This lord refugee, full of intrigue and anger, looked, and that lord refugee looked, and another, and another, and each said something nasty in English or French about the missing Marquis. "Nephew, I believe--a depraved heir anyway--nephew of the handsome Marquis who was assassinated," said one. "Fortunately, I don't know him." "A coward who gave up his post," said another--that the grown-up left Paris on his feet in a load of hay, nearly suffocated--"a few years ago." "Poisoned by fashionable theories," said the third man, glancing at the recipient's name and address through his spectacles, "against the last Marquis, who gave up the manor when it was time to inherit it, and handed it over to the mob. Now they will Revenge on him, I hope. Deserves it." "Hi?" cried the rough-throated Stryver. "Has he really given up? Is he that kind of guy? Let's see the disgraceful name, damned fellow!" Darnay, unable to restrain himself any longer, touched Stryver on the shoulder and said: "I know this man." "You know, my God?" said Stryver, "I'm sorry." "why?" "Why, Mr. Darnay? Did you hear what he did? Don't ask why in times like these!" "But I would like to ask." "Then I will tell you again, Mr. Darnay: I am sorry. I am sorry that you have asked such an unnatural question. There is a man who, infected by the most sinister and profane creed of the devil in the world, has Abandoned property to the worst homicidal hoodlum in the world, and a man who educates youth should know him. You have to go back and forth about why I regret it, well, I will answer you. I believe that It's a pity that such bad guys spread toxins, and that's my reasoning." Taking into account the need for secrecy, Darnay tried his best to restrain himself and said, "You may not know this gentleman well." "But I know how to refute you, Mr. Darnay," said the always condescending Stryver, "and I'll tell you. If the fellow is a gentleman, I can't figure it out. You can tell him this to his face." You can also tell him instead of me. I don’t understand why he didn’t become a straw king after giving up all his wealth and status in the world to these murderous thugs. But, no Gentlemen," Stryver looked around and snapped his fingers, "I know a thing or two about human nature, and I can tell you that a man like him would never give himself up to such a treasure. Underlings. No, gentlemen, he's always gone at the first sign of trouble, and he's always spotless under his feet." After saying this, Mr. Stryver snapped his fingers for the last time, rushed out the door amidst the applause of the audience, and set foot on Fleet Street.Mr. Lorry and Charles Darnay were left alone at the table after the crowd had left the bank. "Would you be willing to deliver the letter?" said Mr. Lorry. "Do you know where to deliver the letter?" "Know." "Could you please explain to the recipient that we presume that the letter came here a few days ago in the hope that we would forward it, and that it has actually been sitting here for quite some time?" "I'll explain. Are you going to Paris from here?" "From here. At eight o'clock." "I'll be right back to see you off." Darnay walked to a quiet corner of the Law Society as fast as he could, feeling uneasy about himself, about Stryver, and most of the others, and opened the letter, which read as follows: Paris, Abbey Prison, June 1792 Former Marquis, After long risking being killed by the people of the village, I was finally caught, brutally abused and humiliated, and marched long distances to Paris, tortured along the way.As if that wasn't enough, my house was destroyed as well - razed to the ground. They tell me, Monsieur ex-Marquis, that the crime that brought me to prison, to trial, and to my life (if not rescued by your generosity) was because I served a fugitive nobleman, against the people, and betrayed the authority of the people.I pleaded that I was doing them by your order, and not against them, but to no avail.I pleaded that I had exempted the fugitive nobles from their dues long before they confiscated their property, that I had not collected any more rents, and that I had not resorted to legal proceedings, but to no avail.Their only answer was, since I am working for the fleeing nobles, where are the fleeing nobles? Ah, most merciful former Marquis, where are the nobles of Outer Manchuria?I cry in my dream, where is he?I looked up and asked the sky, would he come to rescue me?But there was no answer.O ex-Marquis, I send my solitary cry abroad, that it may reach your ears through the great Tellson's Bank of Paris! For love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of your noble name, I beseech you, ex-Marquis, come and help me, and save me.My mistake is to be sincere to you.O former Monsieur Marquis, I pray you will be true to me too! From this dreadful prison, I pledge for you the meager power of my wretched misfortune, though every hour I perish, former Monsieur the Marquis. you devastated gabor This letter turned Darnay's hidden uneasiness into intense guilt.A good old man whose only sin is loyalty to him and his family.The danger to him seemed to stare at him now with resentment.Therefore, when he hesitated in the Law Society thinking about the solution, he hardly dared to face the passers-by. He knew well that despite his abhorrence of the conduct which had brought the misdemeanor and infamy of his ancient family to the climax, despite his venomous suspicion of his uncle, despite his conscience loathing the one whom he supposedly stood by In a broken family, his approach is not thorough.He knew very well that although giving up his position was not a new idea at that time, because he fell in love with Lucy, he acted hastily and hurriedly.He understood that systematic arrangements should be made and supervised by himself, but he just thought about it and didn't do it. The bliss of his chosen English home and the need for perpetual active work, and the rapid changes of the times, the endless troubles--one week's plans overturned the half-baked plans of the previous week, and the events of the next demanded To make a new deployment, this situation made him drift with the flow.He was aware of this, and not without uneasiness, but without a continual and increasing resistance to it.He used to pay attention to the current situation, trying to find an opportunity to act, but the current situation changed and entangled and dragged on.Then the nobles began to flee en masse through the avenues and back lanes of France.The properties of the nobles were confiscated and destroyed one after another, and even their surnames were almost erased.He knew all this, and he knew every new regime in France that might hold him accountable. But he never oppressed anyone, never imprisoned anyone.He not only distanced himself from tyranny, but voluntarily gave up his share of income, and threw himself into a world that would not favor him, found his place there, and earned his own bread.Mr. Garber disposes of his decaying estate in accordance with his written instructions.He asked Gabor to be sympathetic to the people and give them what he could—the firewood left after repaying the usury in winter, and the agricultural products left after repaying the usury in summer.Mr. Garber has undoubtedly put forward these facts and evidence in his own defense for his own safety, and now he has to make it public. This idea prompted Charles Darnay to make up his mind: go to Paris. Yes, like the old sailor in the old story, the wind and current had sent him into the magnetosphere of the magnetic reef, which was drawing him irresistibly.Everything that occurred to him was pushing him more and more swiftly and forcefully toward that terrible magnetism.His veiled disquiet was that in his own unfortunate country some villainous object was being pursued.He knew that he was better than them, but he didn't try hard to stop the bloodshed and insist on benevolence and humanity.Half repressed and half condemned by this uneasiness, he could not help drawing a sharp contrast between himself and the brave old man with a strong sense of responsibility.This unfavorable comparison immediately made him feel that the Marquis was sneering, and that sneer made him feel ashamed now.He felt, too, that Stryver was sneering, and his sneering on old grounds was especially crude and embarrassing.Not to mention Gabor's letter: an innocent prisoner, whose life was in danger, demanded justice, honor, and a real place. He made up his mind: he must go to Paris. Yes, the magnetic reef attracts him, and he must sail until he hits the rock.He doesn't guard the way and there are reefs, and he doesn't see any danger.What he had done was not perfect, but the intention was obvious, and he felt that he would be grateful if he showed up in France and admitted that intention.Then, all kinds of fantasies of the glory of doing good rose before him, which are the optimistic mirages of so many people with lofty ideals.He even had, an illusion: that he could exert some influence and lead the current unscrupulous revolution into orbit, Despite making up his mind, he lingered there.He felt that neither Lucy nor her father should know about it until he was gone.He could not subject Lucy to the pain of parting, and the past was such a dangerously secret subject to her father, that he could accept the fact without the pain of fear and indecision.Nor did he give much thought to how much her father should know about the disadvantages of his situation, for he took pains not to bring up the old French memory in the old man's mind.This is one of the reasons why he left without saying goodbye. He paced up and down, thinking hastily, until it was time to go back to the bank and say good-bye to Mr. Lorry.He intended to see his old friend as soon as he arrived in Paris, but now he could say nothing about his intentions. There was a carriage in front of the bank, the horses were ready, Jerry had put on his boots, everything was ready. "I have delivered that letter," Charles Darnay told Rory. "I don't agree to ask you to bring a written answer, but it's okay if you bring a message, too?" "Yes, I should be glad," said Mr. Lorry, "if there is no danger." "No danger at all, though brought to a prisoner in the monastery prison." "What's his name?" said Mr. Lorry, holding his open notebook. "Gabor." "Gabor. What message do I want to take to the poor Gabor in prison?" "It's simple: 'The letter has been received, and he will come immediately.'" "Did he tell you the time?" "He's leaving tomorrow night." "Is there anyone mentioned?" "No." He helped Mr. Lorry into several layers of jackets and coats, and wrapped him heavily, and walked with him from the warm air of the old bank into the mists of Fleet Street. "My love to Lucchen and little Lucy," said old Rory when they parted, "and take good care of them until I come back." Charles Darnay shook his head as the carriage drove away, and smiled incomprehensibly. He stayed up late on the night of August 14th to write two passionate letters.One to Lucy, explaining that he had to go to Paris on an important mission, and explaining to her in detail his reasons for believing that there would be no danger there.Another letter was to the doctor, asking him to take care of Lucy and their dear child, talking of the above matters, and doing his best to see that nothing should happen.To both he promised to write as soon as they arrived in Paris saying they were safe. It was a difficult day—he was with father and daughter, but he kept in his heart the first secret since living together.It is really uncomfortable to deceive innocent people who are honest and innocent.He looked tenderly at his wife, who was happily busy, and decided in his heart that he could not tell her what was going to happen (he had almost wanted to tell her, because he felt awkward doing anything without her silent help. ).The day flew by.At dusk, he hugged her and her cute baby with the same name, pretending that he would be back soon (he used the excuse that he had a date to go out, and the guide packed a box of clothes and stole them outside).Thus he entered the heavy fog of the heavy street, with a heart heavier than the fog. The invisible force was attracting him to go quickly, and the fury and hurricane that filled the sky were also flying there.Having left two letters with a trusty porter, to be delivered at half-past eleven, not earlier, he mounted his horse for Dover and set off on his journey. "For the love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of your noble name!" was the cry of the poor prisoner.It was with this call that he plucked up his courage, left everything he loved in this world, and drifted away to the magnetic reef.