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"Emigrants have no rights, Evremonde," was the stolid reply. The

officer wrote until he had finished, read over to himself what he

had written, sanded it, and handed it to Defarge, with the words

"In secret."

Defarge motioned with the paper to the prisoner that he must

accompany him. The prisoner obeyed, and a guard of two armed

patriots attended them.

"Is it you," said Defarge, in a low voice, as they went down the

guardhouse steps and turned into Paris, "who married the daughter

of Doctor Manette, once a prisoner in the Bastille that is no

more?"

"Yes," replied Darnay, looking at him with surprise.

"My name is Defarge, and I keep a wine-shop in the Quarter Saint

Antoine. Possibly you have heard of me."

"My wife came to your house to reclaim her father? Yes!"

The word "wife" seemed to serve as a gloomy reminder to Defarge,

to say with sudden impatience, "In the name of that sharp female

newly-born, and called La Guillotine, why did you come to

France?"