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The speaker who struck in, was Sydney Carton. He had his hands

behind him under the skirts of his riding-coat, and he stood at

Mr. Cruncher's elbow as negligently as he might have stood at the

Old Bailey itself.

"Don't be alarmed, my dear Miss Pross. I arrived at Mr. Lorry's,

to his surprise, yesterday evening; we agreed that I would not

present myself elsewhere until all was well, or unless I could be

useful; I present myself here, to beg a little talk with your

brother. I wish you had a better employed brother than Mr.

Barsad. I wish for your sake Mr. Barsad was not a Sheep of the

Prisons."

Sheep was a cant word of the time for a spy, under the gaolers.

The spy, who was pale, turned paler, and asked him how he dared--