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other and far dearer self. If she should ever tell me that you are
essential to her perfect happiness, I will give her to you. If there
were-Charles Darnay, if there were--” The young man had taken
his hand gratefully; their bands were joined as the Doctor spoke:
“-any fancies, any reasons, any apprehensions, anything
whatsoever, new or old, against the man she really loved-the
direct responsibility thereof not lying on his head-they should all
be obliterated for her sake. She is everything to me; more to me
than suffering, more to me than wrong, more to me-- Well! This is
idle talk.” So strange was the way in which he faded into silence,
and so strange his fixed look when he had ceased to speak, that
Darnay felt his own hand turn cold in the hand that slowly
released and dropped it.

“You said something to me,” said Doctor Manette, breaking into a

“What was it you said to me?” He was at a loss how to answer,
until he remembered having spoken of a condition. Relieved as his
mind reverted to that, he answered:
“Your confidence in me ought to be returned with full confidence
on my part.

My present name, though but slightly changed from my mother’s,
is not, as you will remember, my own. I wish to tell you what that
is, and why I am in England.” “Stop!” said the Doctor of Beauvais.
“I wish it, that I may the better deserve your confidence, and have
no secret from you.” “Stop!” For an instant, the Doctor even had
his two hands at his ears; for another instant, even had his two
hands laid on Darnay’s lips.

“Tell me when I ask you, not now. If your suit should prosper, if
Lucie should love you, you shall tell me on your marriage
morning. Do you promise?” “Willingly.” “Give me your hand. She
will be home directly, and it is better she should not see us together
to-night. Go! God bless you!” It was dark when Charles Darnay left
him, and it was an hour later and darker when Lucie came home;
she hurried into the room alone-for Miss Pross had gone straight
up-stairs-and was surprised to find his reading-chair empty.

“My father!” she called to him. “Father dear!” Nothing was said in
answer, but she heard a low hammering sound in his bedroom.
Passing lightly across the intermediate room, she looked in at his
door and came running back frightened, crying to herself, with her
blood all chilled, “What shall I do! What shall I do!” Her
uncertainty lasted but a moment; she hurried back, and tapped at
his door, and softly called to him. The noise ceased at the sound of
her voice, and he presently came out to her, and they walked up
and down together for a long time.
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