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"Citizen Defarge," said he to Darnay's conductor, as he took a

slip of paper to write on. "Is this the emigrant Evremonde?"

"This is the man."

"Your age, Evremonde?"

"Thirty-seven."

"Married, Evremonde?"

"Yes."

"Where married?"

"In England."

"Without doubt. Where is your wife, Evremonde?"

"In England."

"Without doubt. You are consigned, Evremonde, to the prison of La

Force."

"Just Heaven!" exclaimed Darnay. "Under what law, and for what

offence?"

The officer looked up from his slip of paper for a moment.

"We have new laws, Evremonde, and new offences, since you were

here." He said it with a hard smile, and went on writing.

"I entreat you to observe that I have come here voluntarily, in

response to that written appeal of a fellow-countryman which lies

before you. I demand no more than the opportunity to do so

without delay. Is not that my right?"