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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (March 19, 1905)
'42 THE SipfDAYt OEEGOmAX,- j?OBTLAfD, MAKOH 19. 1905. ftALLIE ERMINIE RIVES. xjluthor of J lie Castaway , Hearts Courageous", LE , etc- Z 3 , . alesxrom 11f Lfr BY Ik W Ch sables. X)i c&en-s No. 5 . A Tale How Lucie Found Her Father A LITTLE more than a hundred years ago there lived In London (one of the two cities of this tale) a lovely girl of 17 named Lucie Manette. Her mother had died when she was a baby, in France, and she lived alone with her .old nurse, Miss Pross, a homely, grim guardian with hair as red as her face, who called Lucie "lady 'bird," and loved her very much. Miss Pross was sharp of speech and was always snapping people up, as if she would bite their heads off, but, though she seldom chose to show it, she was the kindest, truest, most unsel fish person in the world. Lucie had no memory of her father, and had always believed he also had died when she was a baby. One day, however, through a Mr. Lorry, the agent of a bank, she heard a wonder ful piece of news. She learned that her father was not dead but that he had been wickedly thrown into a secret prison In Paris before she was born, and had btfen lost thus for IS long years. This prison was the Bastlle a cold, dark build ing like a castle, with high gray towers, a deep moat and drawbridge, and soldiers and cannon to defend ItT In those days in France the rich nobles who belonged to the royal court were very powerful and overbearing, and the rest of the people had few rights. One could be put into prison then without any trial at all, so that many innocent people suffered. Lucie's mother had guessed that Dr. Ma nette (for he was apnyslclan) had in some way incurred the hatred of some one of the nobles, and had thus been taken from her; but all she certainly knew was that he had disappeared x one day in Paris and had never come back. For a year she had tried In every way to find him, but at length, desolate and heartbroken, she had fallen ill and, died, i leaving little Lucie with only Miss Pross Vo care for her. Mr. Lorry himself, who told Lucie this story, having known her father, had brought her, a baby, to Lon don in his arms. Now, he told her. after all these years, her father had at last been released, and was at that moment in Paris in charge of a man named Defargep who had once been his servant; but the 'long imprison ment had affected his mind, so that he was little more than the broken wreck of the man he had once been. Mr. Lorry was about to go to Paris to identify him, and he wished Lucie to go also to bring him to himself. You can Imagine that Lucie's heart was both glad and sorrowful at the news; joyful that the father she had always be lieved dead was alive, and yet full of grief for his condition. She hastily made ready and that same day set out with Mr. Lorry for France. "When they reached Paris they went at once to find Defarge. He was a stern, forbidding man, who kept a cheap wine shop in 6ne of the poorer quarters of the city. He took them through a dirty court yard behind the shop and up five nights of filthy stairs to a door, which he un locked for them to enter. In the dim room sat a withered, white haired old man on a low bench making shoes. His cheeks were worn and hol low, his eyes were bright and his long beard was as white as snow. He wore a ragged shirt, and his hands were thin and transparent from confinement. He scarcely looked up when they entered, for his mind was gone and he knew no one. All that seemed to interest him was his shoemaking. He had forgotten everything else. He even thought his own naine was "One hundred and five. North Tower." which had been the number of his cell in the Bastlle.. Lucie's heart almost broke to see him. She wanted to throw her arms about him, to lay her head on his breast and tell him she was his daughter who loved him and had come to take him home at last. But she was afraid this would frighten him. She came close to him, and. after a while, he began to look at her. She greatly re sembled her dead mother, and presently her face seemed to remind him of some thing. He unwound a string from around his neck and unfolded a little rag which was tied to it, and there was a lock of hair like Lucie's. Then he suddenly burst into tears the first he had shed for long, long years, and the tears seemed to bring back part of the past. Lucie took him in her firms and soothed him, while Mr. Lorry went to bring the coach, that was to take them to England. Through all their preparations for de parture her father sat watching in a sort of sacred wonder, holding tight to Lucie's hand like a child, and when they told him to come with them he descended the stairs obediently. But he would not go into the coach without his bench and shoe making tools, and, to Quiet him, they were obliged to take them. too. So the father and daughter and Mr. Lorry Journeyed back to Lucie's home in London. All the miles they rode Lucie held her father's hand, and the touch seemed to give him strength and confi dence. On the boat crossing to London was a young man. who called himself Charles Darnay. handsome, dark and pale. He wns most kind to Lucie, and showed her how to make a couch on deck for her father, and how she could shelter it from the wind. In the long months that fol lowed their arrival, while Br. Manette slowly regained a measure of health, she never forgot Darnays face and his kind ness to them. Dr. Manette's mind and memory came slowly back with his improving health. There were some days when his brain clouded, and then Lucie would And him seated at his old prison bench making shoes, and she would coax him away and talk to him until the insanity would pass from him again. So the time went by peacefully till a strange thins happened: Charles Dar nay, who had been so kind to Lucie and lirr father on the boat, was arrested on a charge of treason. England at that time was not on good terms with France, and Darnay, who was of French birth, was accused of selling- Information concerning the English of Two Cities forts and armv to th VrnV imvMmint This was a verv serimia rharirf fnr man convicted of treason then were put to oeaui m tne cruolest ways that could "be invented. The charge was not true, and Darnay himself knew quite well who was work ing against mm. The fact was that Charles Darnay was not his true name. He was really Charles St. Everbonde. the descendant of a rich and noble French family .though he chose to live In London as "Charles Darnay," and earned his living by giving lessons in French. He did this because he woflTd not be one of the hated noble class of his own coutnry, who treated the poor so heart lessly. In France the peasants had to pay many oppressive taxes, and were wretched and half starved, while the rich nobles drovft In elldpA rnarhps nnrt If thiw -run over a little peasant child they throw a com 10 its motner and drove on without a further thought. Among the hardest-hearted of all. and the most hated by the common people, were the Evremondes, the family of. the young man who was now accused of trea son. As soon as he was old enough to know how unjust was his family's treat ment of the poor who were dopendent on them he had protested against It, and when he became a man he had refused to live on the money that was thus taken from the hungry peasantry, and had left his home and come to London to earn Ms own way by teaching. His heartless uncle, the Marquis SL Evremonde, In France, the head of the family, hated the young man for this noble spirit. It was this uncle who had invented the plot to axfcuse his nephew of treason. He had hired a dishonest spy named Barsad, who swore he had found papers in Darnay"s trunk which proved fata tntllf- ariA u Ttawo.. t4 vn back and forth to France on family mai lers, me case looKea cart ror him. Cruelly enough, among those who were called to the trial as witnesses tn shnw that Darnay had made ths journeys to France were Dr. Manette and uuiue oecause iney naa seen mm on the boat during that memorable crossing. Lu cie's tears fell fast as she gave her testi mony, believing him innocent and know ing that her words would be used to con demn him. Darnay would doubtless have been con victed but for a curious coincidence: A dissipated young lawyer, named Sydney Carton, sitting in the courtroom, had no ticed with surprise that he himself looked very much like the prisoner; in fact, that they were so much alike that they might almost have been taken for twin broth ers. He called the attention of Dai-nay's lawyer to this, and the latter (while one of the witnesses against Darnay was swearing that he had seen him In a cer tain place in France), made Carton take off his wig all lawyers wear wigs in Eng land while in court and stand up beside Darnay. The two were so alike then that It puzzled the witness, and he could not swear which of the two be had seen. For this reason Darnay to Lucie's great joy was found not guilty. Sydney Carton, who had thought of and suggested this clever thing, was a reck less, besotted young man. He cared for nobody, and nobody, he used to say, cared for him. He lacked energy and ambition to work and struggle for himself, but for the sake of plenty of money with which to buy liquor he studied cases for an other lawyer, who was fast growing rich by his labor. His master, who hired him, was the lion; Carton was content, through his own Indolence and lack of purpose, to be the JackaL His conscience had always condemned himself for this, and now. as he saw the Innocent Damasks look, noble and straightforward, so like himself as he might have been, and as he thought of Lude's sweet face and of how she had wept as she. was forced to give testimony against the other, he felt that he almost hated the man whoso life he had saved. The trial brought Lucie and these two men (so like each other in feature, yet so unlike in character) together, and afterward they often met at Dr. Man ette's house. It was in a quiet part of London that Lucie and her father lived, all alone, save for the faithful Miss Pross. They had lit tle furniture, for they were poor, but Lucie made the most of everything. Dr. Manette had recovered his mind, but not all of his memory- Sometimes he would get up in the night and walk up and down for hours. At Euch times Lucie would hurry to him and walk up and down with him till he was calm again. She never knew why he did this, but she came to believe he was trying vainly to remember all that had happened In those lost years which he had forgotten. He kept his bench and tools always by him. but as time went on he gradually used them less and less often. Mr. Lorry, with his flaxen wig and con stant smile, came to tea every Sunday with them and helped to keep Dr. Manette cheerful. Sometimes Darnay, Sydney Car ton and Mr. Lorry would meet there to gether, but of all, Darnay came oftenest, and soon It was easy to see that he was in love with Lucie- Sydney Carton, too, was In love with her, but he was perfectly aware that he was quite undeserving, and that Lucie could never love him in return. She was the last dream of his wild, careless life, the life he had wasted and thrown away. Once he told her this, and said that, al though he could never be anything to her himself, he would give his life gladly to save any one near and dear to her. Lucie fell in love with Darnay at length, and one day they were married and went away on their wedding journey. Until then, since his rescue, Lucie had never been out of Dr. Manette's sight. Now. though he was glad for her hap piness, yet he felt the pain of the separa tion so keenly that it unhinged his mind again. Miss, Pross and Mr. Lorry found him next morning making shoes at the old prison bench, and for nine days he did not know them at an. At last, however, he recovered, and then, lest the sight of it affect him. one day when he was not there they chopped it to pieces and burned it up. But her father was better after-Lucie came back with her husband, and they all took up their qiliet life again. Darnay loved Lucie devotedly. He supported himself still by teaching. Mr. Lorry came from the bank oftener to tea. and Sydney Carton more rarely, and their life was peaceful and content. His cruel Uncle. thtt Marmilr C -r mondc, had only, once since his marrlagej sent for Darnay to come to France on family matters, and he had gone, but had refused to stay or to do his uncle's bid ding. Tho Marquis evil life, however, was soon to be ended. "While Darnay was there his uncle was murdered one night In his bed by a grief -crazed laborer, whose little child his carriage had run over and killed In tho street. Darnay returned to England shocked and horrified the more at the indifference Of the life led br h!n ram in 'PVaTion Al though now. by the death of his uncle, he bad hlm:lf WMmft a- -it monde, he would not lay claim to the uue, ana leit a tne estates In charge of one of the house servants, an honest steward named Gabelle. He had Intended, after his return to Lucie, to settle all these affairs and to dispoEO of the property, which he felt it wrong for him to hold; but in the peace and happiness of his life In England he put It off. and did nothing further. And this neglect of Darnays as important things neglected are apt to prove came before long to be the cause of terrible misfortune and agony to them all. Darnay Caught in the Net- WHILE theso things were happen ing in London, the one city of this tale, other very different events were ocurring in the other city of the story Paris, the French capital. The indifference and harsh oppression of the court and the nobles toward the people had gone on increasing day by day, and day by day the latter had grown more sullen and resentful. All the while the poor, downtrodden people of Paris were plotting and planning secretly to rise in rebellion, kill the King and Queen and all the nobles, seize their riches and govern France themselves. The center of this plotting was De farge, the keeper of the -wine shop, who had cared for Dr. Manette when ho had first been released from prison. De-' farge and those he trusted met and planned often In the very room where Mr. Lorry and Lucie had found her father making shoes. They kept a rec ord of all acts of cruelty toward the poor committed by the nobility, deter mining that when they themselves .should be strong enough, those thus guilty should be killed, their fine houses burned, and all of their descendants put to deatn, so tnat not even their names should remain in France. This was a wicked and awful determination, but these poor, wretched people had been made to suffer all their lives, and their parents before them, and centuries of oppression had killed all their pity and made them as fierce as wild beasts that I "IT "WAS THE only wait for their cages to be opened to destroy all In their path- They were afraid, of course, to keep any written list of people they had thus condemned, so Madame Defarge, the wife of the wineseller, used to knit tho names in fine stitches Into a long piece of knitting- that she seined always to be at work on. Madame Defarge was a stout woman with big, coarse hands and eyes that never semed to look at any one, yet saw everything that happened. She was as strong as a man, and every one was somewhat afraid of her. She was even cruder and more resolute than her hus band. She used to sit knitting atl day In the dirty wine shop, watching and listening, and knitting in names of people whom she hoped soon to see killed. One of ihe hated names-that she knit- J i y. -; OsJTirM. 190 bT Hllllf EmliU Bit u. Rinirrs bekevfo ted over and over again was "Evre monde." The laborer who in the mad ness of his grief for his dead child had murdered the Marquis St. Evremonde, Darnays hard-hearted uncle, had been caught and hanged; and because of this Defarge and his wife and the other plotters had condemned all of the name of Evremonde to death. Meanwhile the King and Queen of France and all their gay and careless court of nobles feasted and danced as heedlessly as ever. Thv Hid nnt sm tna storm rising. Tho bitter taxes still went on. The wineshop of Defarge looked as peaceful as ever, but the men who drank there now were dreaming of mur der and revenge. And the half-starved women, who sat and looked on as the gilded coaches of tho rich rolled through the streets, were sullenly waiting WatchintT Madnmft Ttpfarcrn nn aha si lently knitted, knitted into her work names whose owners the people had condemned to death without mercy. One day thlsfrightful human storm, which for so many years had beep gathering In France, burst over Paris. The poor people rose by thousands, seized whatever weapons they could get guns, axes, or even stones of the street and. led by Defarge and his tigerish wife, set out to avenge their wrongs. Their rage turned first of all against the Bastlle, the old stone pris on in which so many of their kind had died, where Dr. Manette for 18 years had made shoes. They beat down the thick walls and butchered the soldiers who defended it, and released tho pris oners. And wherever they saw one of the King's uniforms they hanged the wearer to the nearest lamppost. It was the beginning of the terrible revo lution in France that was to end In the murder of thousands of Innocent lives. It was the beginning of a time when Paris' streets were to run with blood, when all the worst passions of the peo ple were loosed, and when they went mad with the Joy of revenge. The storm spread over France to the village where the great chateau of the Evremonde family stood, and the- peas ants set fire to it and burned it to the ground; and, because he was its custo dian for Darnay, the new Marquis Evremonde. whom they had never seem, but yet hated, they seized Gabelle. tho servant whom Darn&v had lft- In charge, and put him in prison. They siormea me royai palace and arrested the King and Queen, threw all who bore nobis names nr tltlen Intn dun geons, and, as they had planned, set up a government of their own. Darnay, safe In London with Lucie, knew little and thnuchf lect nt all thla till he received a pitiful letter from uaDene, wno expected each morning to be dragged out to be killed, telling of the Tlleht In f r '-wMon ilr fatthfttlnoaa had brought him, and beseeching his I master s aia. PEACEFULEST .MAN'S FACE EVER BEHELD THERE." Thls letter made Darnay most un easy. He blamed himself, because he knew it was his fault that Gabelle had been left so long in such a dangerous post. He knew his own family, the Evremondes. had been greatly hated, but he' thought the fact that he himself had refused to be one of them, and had given his sympathy rather to the people they oppressed, would make it possible for him to obtain Gabelle's re lease. And with this Idea he determined to go himself to Paris. He knew the very thought of his going now that France was mad with violence, would frighten Lucie, so he determined not to tell her.. He packed. some clothing hurriedly, and left secretly, sending a let ter back to Lucie telling her where and why he. was going. - And by the time she read this he was well on his way from England, - Darnay had expected to find no trouble in his "errand and little personal risk in his Journey, but as soon as he landed on the shores of Franco he discovered his mistake. He had only to give his real name, tho Marquis St. Evremonde. which he had to do to help Gabelle. and the title was the signal for rude threats and ill treatment. Once in, he could not go back, and he felt as if a monstrous net was closing around him (as, indeed, it was) from which there was no escape. He was sent on to Paris under a guard of soldiers, and there ho was at once put into prison to be tried and in all probability condemned to death as one of the hated noble class whom the people were now killing as fast as they could. The great room of the prison to which he was taken Darnay found full of ladles and gentlemen, most of them rich and titled, the men chatting, the women read ing or doing embroidery, all courteous and polite, as if they sat in their own splendid homes. Instead of in a prison from which most of them could issue only to a dreadful death. He was al lowed to remain here only a few mo ments; then he was taken to an empty cell and left alone. It happened that the bank of which Mr. Lorry was agent had an office also in Paris, and the old gentleman had come there on business the day before Darnay arrived. Mr. Lorry was an Englishman born, and for him there was no danger. He knew nothing of the arrest of Dar nay until a day of iwo later, when, as he sat In his rooms. Dr. Manette and Lucie entered. Just arrived from London, greatly agitated and In great fear for Darnay's safety. "When Lucie read the letter her husband had left for her she had followed at once with her father and Miss Pross. Dr. Ma nette, knowing Darnay's real name and title (for before he married Lucie, Dar nay had told her father everything), had feared danger for him, but he had rea soned that his own long imprisonment In the Bastlle the building the people had first destroyed would make him a fa vorite, and render him able to aid Darnay if danger came. "While on the way they had heard the sad news and had come at once to Mr. Lorry to consider what might best be done. "While they talked, through the wlndpw they saw a great crowd of people come rushing Into the courtyard of the building to sharpen weapons at a huge grindstone that stood there. They were going to murder .the prisoners with which the Jails were by this time full. Fearful that he would be too late to save Darnay. Dr. Manette rushed to the yard, his white hair streaming In tho wind, and told the leaders of the mob 1 who he was how he had been Impris- I cned IS years in the Bastlle. and that ! now one of his kindred, by some unknown error, had been seized. They cheered him. lifted him on their shoulders and rushed away to demand for him the release of Darnay. while Lucie, In tears, with Mr. Lorry and Miss, Pross, waited all night for tidings. But none came that night. The rescue had not proved easy. . Next day Defarge, the wine-shopkeeper, brought a short note to Lucie from Darnay ,at the prison, but it was four days before Dr. Manette returned to the house. He had, indeed, by the story of his. own sufferings, saved Darnay's life for the time being, but the prisoner, they told him, could not be re leased without a trial. For this they waited, day after day The time passed slowly and terribly Prisoners were no longer .murdered with out trial, but few escaped the death pen alty. The King and Queen were behead ed. Thousands were put to death merely on suspicion, and" thousands more wer thrown into, prison merely, 1 "await ijjjir. turn. This was that dreadful period which has always since been called "The Reign of Terror." when hardly any one feU sure of his safety. There was a' certain window in the prison through which Darnay sometimes found a chance to look, and from which he could see one dingy street corner. On this corner, every afternoon. Lurle tnnk- her station for hours, rain or shine. She never missed a day. and thus at long In tervals jier nusoand got a view of her. So months passed till a year had gone, and all the while Dr. Manette, now be come a well known flmire In Paris worked hard to procure Darnay's release. At length his turn came to be tried and he was brought before the drunken, ig- uuimi. men wno called themselves Judge and Jury. He told how he had years before re nounced him family and title, left Vran and supported himself rather than be a ouroen on the peasantry. He told how he had married a woman nt Vronnh Viiwv, the only daughter of the good Dr. MaA neiie, wnom all Paris knew, and had come to Paris now a' his help a poor servant who was in danger uiruugn nis iauit. The story caught thefancy of the changeable crowd In the room, and they cheered and applauded it, and when he was acquitted they were quite as pleased as if he had been condemned to be be headed. They put him in a great chair and carried him home In triumph to Lucie. There was only one there, perhaps, who did not rejoice at the result, and that was the cold, cruel wife of the wine seller. Madame Defarge, who had knitted the name "Evremonde" so many times into her knitting. Sydney Carton's Sacrifice TSAT same night of his release all the 1 happiness of Darnay and Lucie was suddenly brokenw Soldiers came and again arrseted him. Defarge and his wife were the accusers this time, and he was to be retried. The first one to bring this new piece of bad news to Mr. Lorry was Sydney Car ton. Probably he had heard, In London, of Lucie's trouble, and out of his love for her, which he always carried hid den in his heart, had come to Paris to try to aid her husband. He had arrived only to hear, at the same time of the acquittal and the rearrest. As Carton walked along the street thinking- sadly of Lucie's new grief, he saw a man whose face and figure seemed somenow laminar. Following, he soon recognized him as the English spy, Bar sad, whose false testimony, years before. In London, had come so near convicting Darnay when he was tried for treason. Barsad, (who, as It happened, was now a turnkey In the very prison where Dar nay was confined), had left London to become a spy In France, first on the side of the King and then on the side of the people. , At the time of this story England was so hated by France, that if the people had known of Bars ad's career in, London they would have cut off his head at once. Carton, who was well aware of this, threatened the spy with his knowledge and made him swear that If worst came to worst and Darnay were condemned, he would admit Carton to the cell to see him once before he was taken to execution. "What Carton wanted this for Barsad could not guess, but to save himself he had to promise. Next day Darnay was tried for the sec ond time. "When the judge asked for the accusation, Defarge laid a paper before him. It was a letter that had been found when the Bastille fell. In the cell that had been occupied for 13 years by Dr. Ma nette. He had written it before his rea son left film, and hidden it behind a loosened stone in the wall; and In it he had told the story of his own unjust ar rest. Defarge read it aloud to the jury and this was the terrible tale It told: The Marquis St. Evremonde (the cruel uncle of Darnay) when he was a young man had dreadfully wronged a young peasant woman, had caused her husbandis death and killed her hrother with his own hand. As the brother lay dying from the sword wound Dr. Manette. then also a young man, had been called to attend him and so, by accident, had learned the whole. Horrified at the wicked wrong, he wrote an account of it in a letter to the Minister of Justice. The Marquis whom It accused learned o this, and, to put Dr. Manette out of the way, had him arrested secretly, - taken from his wife and baby daughter and thrown Into a secret cell of the Bastille, where he had lived those IS years, not knowing whether his wife and child lived or died. He waited ten years for release, and when none came, at last, feeling his mind giv ing way, he wrote the account, which he concealed in the cell wall, denouncing the family of. Evremonde and all their de scendants. The reading of this paper by Defarge, as may bo guessed, aroused all the mur derous passions of the people In the court room. There was a further reason for Mme. Defarge's hatred, for the poor wom an whom Darnay's uncle had so wronged had been her own sister. In vain old Dr. Manette pleaded. That his own daugh ter was now Darnay's wife made no dif ference In their eyes. The jury at once found Darnay guilty and sentenced him Married Women however, by the use of Mother's Friend before baby comes, as this great liniment always prepares the body for the strain opon it, and , preserves the symmetry of her form. Mothers Friend overcomes all the danger of child-birth, and carries the expectant mother safely through this critical; period without pain. It is woman's greatest blessing. Thousands gratefully tell of the benefit and relief derived" from tha r j.t? j r- t use a i, ixiis wonaenui remedy. Sold by all druggists at $r.oo per bettle. Our little book, telling all about this liniment, will be sent free. Hedlie Errninie IZzves to die by the guillotine the next morning. Lucie fainted when the sentence was pronounced. Sydney Carton, who had wit nessed the trial, lifted her and bore her to a carriage. "When they reached home he carried her up the stairs and laid her on a couch. Before he went he- bent down and touched her cheek with his lips, and they neard him w.hisper, For a life you love!" They did not know till next day what he meant. Carton had, in fact, formed a desperate plan to rescue Lucie's husband, whom he so much resembled in face and figure, even though It meant his own death. He went tp Mr. Lorry and made him prom ise to have ready next morning passports and a coach and swift horses to leave Paris for England with Dr. Manette, Lucie and himself, telling him that it they delayed longer Lucie's life and her father's also would be lost. Next, Carton bought a quantity of a drug whose fumes would render a man Insensible, and with this in his pocket early next morning he went to the spy, Barsad. and bade him redeem his promise and take him to the cell where Darnay waited for the signal of death. Darnay was seated, writing a last let ter to Lucie, when Carton entered. Pre tending that he wished him to write some thing that he dictated. Carton stood over him and held the phial of the drug to his' face. In a moment the other was un conscious, and then Carton changed clothes with him and called in the spy, directing him to take the unconscious man, who now seemed to be Sydney Car ton instead of Charles Darnay,-" to Mr. Lorry's house. He himself was to as sume the prisoner's place- and the pen alty. The plan went well. Darnay, who would not have allowed this sacrifice if he had known, was carried safely and without discovery, past the guards. Mr. Lorry, guessing what had happened when he saw the unconscious figure, took coach, at once with him, Dr. Manette and Lucie, and started for England that very hour. Miss Pross was left to follow them in another carriage. "While Miss Pross sat waiting In the empty house, who should come in but; the terrible Mme. Defarge! The latter had made up her mind, as Carton had sus pected, to denounce Lucie also to death. It was against the law to mourn for" any one who had been condemned as an ei'emy to France, and the woman was sur, of course, that Lucie would be mousing for her husband who was to die vlthln the hour. So she stopped on her wiy to the execution to see Lucie and thushave evidence against her. "When Mme. Defarge entered, Miss Pross read the Tiatred and evil p(rpose in her face. The grim old nurse (knew that if It was known that Lucij had gone, the coach would be pursue! and brought back. So she planted herelf In front of the door of Lucie's roon, and would not let Mme. Defarge open L The cruel Frenchwoman tried ti tear her away, but Miss Pross seizd her around the waist, and held her back. Mme. Defarge drew a loaded plstd from her breast to shoot her, but in thetstrug gle It went off and killed Mmi. De farge herself. Then Miss Pross all of a tremblejlocked the door, threw the key into the river, took the carriage and followed afjer the coach. Not long after the unconscious )arnay with Lucie and Dr. Manette passed the gates of Paris, the jailer came to the cell where Sydney Carton sat and called him. It was the summons to die. Ard with his thoughts on Lucie, whom he bad al ways hopelessly loved, and on her hus band, whom he had thus saTed to her, he went almost gladly. A poor little seamstress rode la the death cart beside him. She was so small and weak that she feared to die, and Car ton held her cold hand all the way and comforted her to the end. Cruel women of the people sat about the guillotine knitting and counting with thIr stitches, as each poor victim died. And when Carton's turn came, thinking he was Dar nay, the hated Marquis St. Evremonde, they cursed him and laughed. Men said of him about the city that night that It was the peacefulest man's face ever beheld there. If they could have read his thought, if he could have spoVen it in words It would have been these: "I see the live for which I lay down mine, peaceful and happy In that Eng land I shall see no more. X see Lucie and Darnay with a child that bears my name, and I see that I shall hold a placa In their hearts forever. I see her weep ing for me on the anniversary of this day. I see the blot I threw upon my name faded away, and I know that till they die neither shall be more honored In the soul of the other than I am hon ored In the souls of both. It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done; It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known!" The execution of a note by a principal to his surety for the amount paid by the latter in satisfaction of the obligations for which he was surety wa3 held. In Blakeley vs. Adams (Ky.) 65 L. R. A. 270. not to deprive him of the right to have usury in the principal ' obligations purged,, and give the surety the right to recover the face of the note including the usury, unless the principal requested .the surety to pay it, or stood by and per mitted him to do bo in ignorance of the usury. Every woman covets ft shapely, pretty figure, and many of them deplore the loss of their girlish forma after marriage. The bearing of cbildrem h aibta, destrnc&Ta to the mother1 shapeliness. All of tils can Ki wniAaA Mother's F rientl 4