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作者: Charles Dickens

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"I seek him. We seek him. I know you, Evremonde; I saw you before
the Tribunal to-day. You are again the prisoner of the Republic."
The four surrounded him, where he stood with his wife and child
clinging to him.
"Tell me how and why am I again a prisoner?"
"It is enough that you return straight to the Conciergerie, and
will know to-morrow. You are summoned for to-morrow."
Doctor Manette, whom this visitation had so turned into stone,
that he stood with the lamp in his hand, as if he were a statue
made to hold it, moved after these words were spoken, put the
lamp down, and confronting the speaker, and taking him, not
ungently, by the loose front of his red woollen shirt, said:
"You know him, you have said. Do you know me?"
"Yes, I know you, Citizen Doctor."
"We all know you, Citizen Doctor," said the other three.
He looked abstractedly from one to another, and said, in a lower
voice, after a pause:
"Will you answer his question to me then? How does this happen?"

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