Chapter-7
Four months had passed since Charles Darnay’s trial. It was a Sunday afternoon and Jarvis Lorry had come to call on the Manettes in their small house in London. While waiting in the doctor’s room for his hosts to appear, Mr. Lorry’s eyes fixed on the shoemaker’s bench and tools—those terrible reminders of Dr. Manette’s years in prison.
“What are you staring at?” demanded a voice behind him.
Mr. Lorry turned at the sound of Miss Pross’ voice, remembering his first meeting with this wild-eyed woman in Dover five years ago. Knowing of her devotion to Lucie and the doctor, he explained, “1 was just wondering why the doctor still keeps those things.”
“I wouldn’t know,” snapped Miss Pross, “But I do know that we are having more visitors today—another of these young men who are unworthy of my dear Lucie’s time. Only one man could ever be worthy of her—my dear brother Solomon. If only he hadn’t made that one mistake in life.”
Mr. Lorry knew that the one ‘mistake’ made by Solomon Pross was taking all of his sister’s belongings years ago and leaving her in poverty. But that did not concern him now.
Just then, Dr. Manette and Lucie entered the room, and they all went out into the garden. They were sitting there, talking of old buildings in London, when Charles Darnay arrived.
Joining in their discussion, Charles asked, “Have any of you seen much of the Tower? I was imprisoned there before my trial.”
“Lucie and I have been there a few times,” answered the doctor, “It’s quite interesting.”
“Well, when I was there, I learnt something very curious. It seems that while some repairs were being made, workmen came across an old dungeon that hadn’t been used for many years. Every stone of its inner wall was covered with names, dates and complaints written by the prisoners. While digging under the floor, the workmen found the ashes of some paper. Some unknown prisoner had written a note and hidden it from the jailer. What was written will never be known.”
Dr. Manette gasped, and his hands flew up to his head. Terror spread across his face for a moment.
“Are you ill, Father?” cried Lucie.
“No, dear,” said the doctor, recovering himself quickly, “I just felt some raindrops. We should go inside.”
But Mr. Lorry had seen that look of terror, and it sent a shudder through him.
