Chapter 47 Chapter 15 Severance of footsteps

The car of death rumbles through the streets of Paris with a hollow, piercing sound.Six death carts delivered the day's fine wine to Miss Guillotine.Ever since the imagination was realised, the imaginations of the gluttonous and insatiable demons have converged on one invention, the guillotine.Yet in France, in spite of all the variety of soils and climates, no blade of grass, blade of root, root, branch, insignificant thing grew to maturity under more constant conditions than those which produced this monstrosity. up.Even if the human being were smashed and deformed again with a similar hammer, it would still grow crookedly back to its original suffering form.As long as the seeds of violence, oppression and oppression are still planted, the fruits of violence, oppression and bullying will inevitably be born.

Six death row carts rumbled down the avenue.Time, you mighty magician, if you restore the death row cart to its original appearance, it will clearly be the imperial chariot of the autocratic emperor, the chariot of the feudal nobles, and the dresser of the powerful Jezebel. Churches that are not the abode of God and the huts of millions of hungry peasants!No, the great magician who enacts the Creator's order never reverses his changes. "If God's will has made you so," said the wise Arabian Nights prophet to the enchanted, "then you remain so! But if you are but a fleeting magic, Then restore your true colors!" There will be no change, no hope, and the death penalty vehicle rumbles forward.

The sombre wheels of the six wagons whirled and seemed to plow a sinuous furrow through the crowd in the street.A person's face is the ridge of a furrow, and when the plowshare is plowed steadily, the person's face is turned to both sides. The residents on both sides of the street are too familiar with this scene. There are no people in front of many windows. He didn't even stop, his eyes only looked at the faces on the car.The owners of some windows have guests to watch the fun, and the owners point to this car and that car with the pride of a museum curator or an authoritative commentator, as if explaining who was sitting here yesterday, and who was sitting here the day before yesterday. Who is sitting there.

Some people on the death row car noticed all the above and everything on their last road, but just stared indifferently; some people showed attachment to life and people; They take great care of their appearance and present themselves to the crowd as they see them on stage or in pictures.Several were meditating with their eyes closed, trying to control their chaotic thoughts.Only one poor fellow was frightened out of his wits, his image was crazy, he was in a daze, he was singing, and he wanted to dance.But none of the prisoners on death row begged for mercy with their eyes or gestures. A guard composed of several cavalry marched side by side with the prison cart.From time to time someone turned to them and asked them questions.The question always seemed to be the same, because after asking, people always crowded towards the third prison car.The cavalry walking alongside the third prison wagon often pointed their swords at a man in the wagon.People's main curiosity is to find out where the man is.The man was standing at the back of the prison van, looking down, talking to a girl.The station girl sat on the side of the prison car and held his hand.The man was not curious about the scene around him, nor did he care, and just kept calm with the girl.From time to time someone shouted at him in the long streets of Saint-Honoré.Even if the shouting had moved him, it had only caused him to smile quietly and toss the hair that fell across his face carelessly—his hands were bound so he couldn't easily reach his face.

Waiting for the van on the steps of a church is the spy and prison sheep.He looked at the first one, but it was not there.He looked at the second car, but it was not there.He was already asking himself, "Did he sacrifice me?" His face immediately calmed down, and he looked into the third car. "Which one is Evermond?" asked someone behind him. "That one. The one in the back." "Hand held by a girl?", "yes." The man cried, "Down with Evremonde! Guillotine all the nobles! Down with Evremonde!" "Hush, shush!" the spy begged timidly.

"Why not, citizen?" "He's going to fight for his life. It will be over in five minutes. Let him be quiet." But the man continued to cry, "Down with Evremonde!" Evremonde turned his face to him for a moment, saw the spy, looked at him carefully, and turned forward again. The clock struck three, and the furrow plowed through the crowd turned a corner to the place of execution and the destination.The faces of the people parted and closed again, and they followed the last plow - and everyone followed to the guillotine.In front of the guillotine, several women were knitting and sitting on chairs, as if they were in a public amusement park.Furies stood on a chair in the front.She is looking for her friends.

"Thales!" she cried in her defeated voice. "Who saw her? Thérèse Defarge!" "She never misses it," said a knitter in the Sisters' Row. "No, and I won't miss it now," Fury said angrily. "Thales!" "Louder," the woman suggested. Yes, louder, Nemesis.It was loud, but she still couldn't hear it.Make it bigger, Furies, and add some expletives or something.But she still didn't show up.Send other women to look for it everywhere!Where are you reluctant to leave?But those who seek it may not be willing to go far, even though they have done many terrible things.

"Unlucky!" cried the Furies, stamping her feet on her chair. "The prison van has arrived! Evremonde will be reimbursed in a second, and she's not here! You see, I still have her knitting in my hands." ! Her empty chair is waiting for her. I'm so pissed off I'm so disappointed I'm going to yell!" When Nemesis jumped down from her chair and shouted, the prison van had already started to unload people.The envoys of the holy guillotine have put on their torture robes and are ready.Crack—one head was lifted up, and when that head was still able to think and speak, the knitting woman didn't even want to look up, but just counted, "One."

After the second prison van got off, people left, and the third one came up. "Crack" - counted by the women who never hesitated, never stopped knitting, "Two." The man who was supposed to be Evremond got out of the car, and the seamstress was also helped out.When he got out of the car, he didn't let go of her uncomplaining hand, he always held it according to his promise.He graciously turned her back to the chirping, chirping machine—the machine was whining, rising and falling.She looked him in the eyes and expressed her thanks. "If it weren't for you, dear stranger, I wouldn't be so calm, for I was born a poor little woman with little guts. Nor could I look up at God - God was killed too - and pray to him Give us hope and comfort today. I think you are a gift from heaven."

"You, too, were sent to me by God," said Sidney.Carlton said, "Keep your eyes on me, my dear boy, and think of nothing else." "I won't think about anything when I hold your hand. If they are quick, I can even think about it completely after I let go." "They'll be quick. Don't be afraid!" Although the two were in the rapidly decreasing group of death row inmates, they seemed to have no one else talking.Their eyes met, their voices corresponded, they held hands, and their hearts reflected each other.This pair of sons and daughters of the mother of all kinds were originally far apart and had various differences, but now they came together on this dark road, and they wanted to go home together to rest in their mother's arms.

"Brave and generous friend, can you answer me one last question? I am very ignorant, so this question troubles me--just a little." "What's the problem? Tell me." "I have a cousin, my only relative, who is also an orphan like me. I love her very much. She is five years younger than me and lives in a peasant family in the south. We broke up because of poverty, and she is very grateful to her. I don't know my fate at all, because I can't write letters. If I can write, how can I tell her! It's better than this!" "Yes, yes, it is better." "When I came here, I kept thinking about it. Now I look at your kind and strong face and feel that you have given me a lot of support. I am still thinking about this question: If the Republic really does good things for the poor, The poor will starve less and suffer less, and my cousin can live for a long time, even to old age." "What is your problem, my gentle sister?" "You think," those innocent eyes filled with tears, the lips trembling and slightly parted, "that I'm waiting for her in a better world, where I believe you You and I will receive kind attention. Do you think I will feel that I have waited too long then?" "Impossible. There's no time and no worries." "You have given me so much comfort! I am so ignorant. Should I kiss you goodbye now? Is it time?" "Arrived." She kissed his lips, and he kissed hers, and they gave each other solemn blessings.He let go, and the thin hand did not tremble.There was nothing but sweet, bright tenacity on that uncomplaining face.She was one ahead of him—she went; and the knitters counted, "Twenty-two." "The Lord said, I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in Me will live, even though they die; and those who live and believe in Me will never die." A lot of voices were murmuring; a lot of faces were lifted up; many footsteps squeezed in from the periphery, and the crowd surged forward like a rising tide.Everything disappeared like lightning.twenty-three. People in the town remarked that night that his face was the most peaceful one ever seen there.Many people also said that he looked lofty, like a prophet. Among the conspicuous victims who died by the same ax was a woman who had not long before asked permission to write the thoughts that agitated her breast at the foot of the same rack.If Carleton could express his feelings, and his feelings came from the mouth of the prophet, then his thoughts would be like this: "I saw Barça, Clay, Defarge, Furies, jurors, judges, a long train of new oppressors rising from the old oppressors destroyed by this instrument of punishment, before this instrument of punishment Destroyed before it ceased to be useful. I saw a fair city and a splendid people rise from this abyss. In their struggle for true freedom, in their victories and defeats, in the ages to come, I saw the wickedness of this age and the wickedness of the previous age (the latter being the natural consequence of the former) gradually atoning for their sins, and gradually disappearing. "I saw the man for whom I gave my life live a life of peace, service, prosperity, and happiness in England—an England I would never see again. I saw Lucy cradling a man named after me on her breast. I saw Lucy's father grow old and bent, but he recovered in other respects, and used his medical skills to faithfully save the world and live a peaceful life. I saw their good friend, the kind old man , gave them his estate ten years later, and died peacefully to receive the Lord's reward. "I saw that I held a sacred place in the hearts of them and their descendants for countless generations. I saw Lucy become an old woman crying for me on my funeral. I saw her and her husband dying, side by side. Lying on the deathbed. I know that they have a glorious and exalted place in each other's souls, and I have a more honorable and higher place in their souls. "I have seen the child named after me in her arms grow up and walk the path I have walked. I have seen him perform well and make my name glorious with his brilliance. I have seen my dyed The smudge on that name faded away. I saw him stand at the forefront of just judges and upright people. I saw him bring a child named after me here. It was a beautiful place then, None of the twist and ugliness of today. The kid had the forehead and blond hair I was familiar with. I heard him tell my story to the kid in a trembling, soulful voice. "I have done far better than all I have ever done; and the rest I shall have is sweeter than all I have ever known." (Finish)