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"Yes," said Carton. "I am not old, but my young way was never the

way to age. Enough of me."

"And of me, I am sure," said Mr. Lorry. "Are you going out?"

"I'll walk with you to her gate. You know my vagabond and

restless habits. If I should prowl about the streets a long time,

don't be uneasy; I shall reappear in the morning. You go to the

Court to-morrow?"

"Yes, unhappily."

"I shall be there, but only as one of the crowd. My Spy will find

a place for me. Take my arm, sir."

Mr. Lorry did so, and they went down-stairs and out in the

streets. A few minutes brought them to Mr. Lorry's destination.

Carton left him there; but lingered at a little distance, and

turned back to the gate again when it was shut, and touched it.

He had heard of her going to the prison every day. "She came out

here," he said, looking about him, "turned this way, must have

trod on these stones often. Let me follow in her steps."