Pagina 177 de 896

"Shall we go home, my father?"

With a long breath, he answered "Yes."

The friends of the acquitted prisoner had dispersed, under the

impression--which he himself had originated--that he would not be

released that night. The lights were nearly all extinguished in

the passages, the iron gates were being closed with a jar and a

rattle, and the dismal place was deserted until to-morrow

morning's interest of gallows, pillory, whipping-post, and

branding-iron, should repeople it. Walking between her father and

Mr. Darnay, Lucie Manette passed into the open air. A

hackney-coach was called, and the father and daughter departed in

it.