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A Tale of Two Cities: Sydney
Five years later, in the court-room of the Old Bailey in London, a young Frenchman was on trial for his life. Near him sat an untidy looking individual by the name of Sydney Carton. With his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he was unobservant, apparently, of all that passed around him; but it was he, who first noticing the extraordinary resemblance between the prisoner and himself, rescued Charles Darnay from the web of deceit which had been spun around him. Between these two young men the striking resemblance was in outward appearance only. Charles Darnay was of noble birth; but his ancestors had for many years so cruelly oppressed the French peasantry that the name of Evremonde was hated and despised. Wholly unlike them in character, this last descendant of his race had given up his name and estate and had come to England as a private gentleman, eager to begin life anew.
Sydney Carton was a young English lawyer, brilliant in intellect, but steadily deteriorating through his life of dissipation, able to advise others, but unable to guide himself, "conscious of the blight on him and resigning himself to let it eat him away."
He and Darnay soon became frequent visitors at the small house in Soho Square, the home of Doctor Manette and his daughter. Through Lucie's care and devotion, the doctor had almost wholly recovered from the effects of his long imprisonment, and it was only in times of strong excitement that any trace of his past insanity could be detected. The sweet face of Lucie Manette soon won the hearts of both the young men, but it was Darnay to whom she gave her love. And so that interview between Lucie and Sydney Carton has a pathos that wrings our hearts. He knew that even if his love could have been returned, it would have added only to his bitterness and sorrow, for he felt it would have been powerless to lift him from the Slough of Selfishness and Sensuality that had engulfed him. But he could not resist this last sad confession of his love; and when she weeps at the sorrow of which she had been the innocent cause, he implores: "Do not weep, dear Miss Manette, the life I lead renders me unworthy of your pure love. My last supplication is this, think now and then that there is a man who would give his life to keep a life you love beside you." But dark days were to come. In the year 1789 the downtrodden French peasantry turned upon their oppressors. The streets of Paris were filled with crowds of people whose eager cry was for "blood." Madame Defarge no longer sat behind the counter of her small wineshop, silently knitting into her work the names of her hated enemies, but, ax in hand and knife at her belt, headed a frenzied mob of women on to the Bastile. The French Revolution had actually begun. Madame Defarge was one of the leading spirits of the Revolution. Early in life she had seen her family fall victims to the tyranny and lust of the cruel nobility, and from that time her life had been devoted to revenge. Three years of crime and bloodshed passed, and in 1792 Mr. Jarvis Lorry and Charles Darnay landed in Paris, the former to protect the French branch of Tellson & Co. and the latter to befriend an old family servant who had besought his help. Not until they had set foot in Paris did they realize into what a caldron of fury they had plunged. Mr. Lorry, on account of his business relations, was allowed his freedom, but Darnay was hurried at once to the prison of La Force, there to await his trial. The reason given for this outrage was the new law for the arrest of all returning French emigrants, but the true cause was that he had been recognized as Charles Evremonde. These tidings soon reached London, and Doctor Manette, with his daughter Lucie, hastened to Paris, for he felt sure that his long confinement in the Bastile would win for him the sympathy of the French people and thus enable him to save his son-in-law. Days and months passed; and although the doctor succeeded in gaining a promise that Darnay's life should be spared, the latter was not allowed to leave his prison.
At last came the dreadful year of the Reign of Terror. The sympathy which at first had been given to Doctor Manette had become weakened through the influence of the bloodthirsty Madame Defarge. Also, there had been found in the ruins of the Bastile a paper which contained Doctor Manette's account of his own abduction and imprisonment, and pronouncing a solemn curse upon the House of Evremonde and their descendants, who were declared to be the authors of his eighteen years of misery. Charles Darnay's doom was sealed. "Back to the Conciergerie and death within twenty-four hours." To Sydney Carton, who had followed his friends to Paris, came an inspiration. Did he not promise Lucie that he would die to save a life she loved? By bribery he gains admittance to the prison; Darnay is removed unconscious from the cell, and Carton sits down to await his fate.
Along the Paris streets six tumbrels are carrying the day's wine to La Guillotine. In the third car sits a young man with his hands bound. As the cries from the street arise against him, they only move him to a quiet smile as he shakes more loosely his hair about his face.
Crash! A head is held up, and the knitting women who are ranged about the scaffold count "One."
The third cart comes up, and the supposed Evremonde descends. His lips move, forming the words, "a life you love."
The murmuring of many voices, the upturning of many faces, then all flashes away. "Twenty-three!" "'I am the resurrection and the life,' saith the Lord; 'he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.'"