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"Man, man!" returned Carton, stamping his foot; "have I sworn by

no solemn vow already, to go through with this, that you waste

the precious moments now? Take him yourself to the courtyard you

know of, place him yourself in the carriage, show him yourself to

Mr. Lorry, tell him yourself to give him no restorative but air,

and to remember my words of last night, and his promise of last

night, and drive away!"

The Spy withdrew, and Carton seated himself at the table, resting

his forehead on his hands. The Spy returned immediately, with two

men.

"How, then?" said one of them, contemplating the fallen figure.

"So afflicted to find that his friend has drawn a prize in the

lottery of Sainte Guillotine?"

"A good patriot," said the other, "could hardly have been more

afflicted if the Aristocrat had drawn a blank."

They raised the unconscious figure, placed it on a litter they

had brought to the door, and bent to carry it away.

"The time is short, Evremonde," said the Spy, in a warning voice.