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Pagina 583 de 896

Autor: Charles Dickens

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This universal watchfulness not only stopped him on the highway
twenty times in a stage, but retarded his progress twenty times
in a day, by riding after him and taking him back, riding before
him and stopping him by anticipation, riding with him and keeping
him in charge. He had been days upon his journey in France alone,
when he went to bed tired out, in a little town on the high road,
still a long way from Paris.
Nothing but the production of the afflicted Gabelle's letter from
his prison of the Abbaye would have got him on so far. His
difficulty at the guard-house in this small place had been such,
that he felt his journey to have come to a crisis. And he was,
therefore, as little surprised as a man could be, to find himself
awakened at the small inn to which he had been remitted until
morning, in the middle of the night.
Awakened by a timid local functionary and three armed patriots in
rough red caps and with pipes in their mouths, who sat down on
the bed.

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