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Updated: June 18, 2025
She had never read the last two chapters without feeling a great desire to cry, but tonight she read with perfect unconcern of Sydney Carton's wanderings through Paris on the night before he gave himself up read the last marvelously written scene without the slightest emotion. It was evidently no use to try anything else; she shut the book, put out her candle, and once more lay down in the dark.
Yes, it was with something of an air, no doubt, that I took the pavement, humming as I passed along the bright side of Pitt Street. All my life I have had a fondness for byways. Main thoroughfares between the two great arteries, Pitt and George Street, were at my service; but I preferred a narrow alley which brings one to the back premises of Messrs. Hunt and Carton's, the wholesale stationers.
He stood telling all this, with his face to the river; and, as he stood telling it, the little arbour of flowers floated in the sunshine before all the faces there. Leaning on Captain Carton's shoulder, between him and Miss Maryon, was Mrs. Fisher, her head drooping on her arm. She asked him, without raising it, when he had told so much, whether he had found her mother? "Be comforted!
"I think we might be journeying down to Carton's office," he added, looking impatiently at his watch. It was still early and we did not hurry. Carton, however, was waiting for us anxiously. "I've called you at the laboratory and the apartment all over," he cried. "Where have you been?" "Just on the way down," returned Kennedy. "Why, what has happened?"
We finished the ride in comparative silence and hurried into Carton's office down in the Criminal Courts Building. Carton greeted us cordially, with an air of intense relief, as if he were glad to have been able to turn to Kennedy in the growing perplexities that beset him.
That was Sydney Carton's text. It is a great thing a very great thing to be able to save those you love by dying for them. I well remember sitting in my study at Hobart one evening, when there came a ring at the bell. A moment later a man whom I knew intimately was shown in. I had seen him a few weeks earlier, yet, as I looked upon him that night, I could scarcely believe it was the same man.
Gangdom was in a daze itself, little knowing the smooth stone that Carton had slung between the eyes of the great underworld Goliath of the law. At last Carton's case was all in, and Kahn rose to present his own, a forced smile on his face.
"By the way," he said in a low voice, leaning over toward her, "have you heard that those pictures of her were faked? It was really Dorgan, and some crook photographer cut out his face and substituted Carton's. Ogleby's misadventures as well as a lot of much more important things. We got it from Mr. Murtha and " "Mr. Murtha?" she inquired, in surprise.
I thought as soon as I saw it that there was something queer." I recalled now the peculiar look on his face which I had interpreted as indicating that he thought Murtha had been the victim of foul play. "And the other night, when we were in Carton's office and someone called up threatening you, Carton, and Dopey Jack, I saw at once that the voice was concealed.
As he looked at Carton with clouded eyes and with an altered manner of breathing, Carton his hand again in his breast looked steadily at him. "Hurry, hurry!" The prisoner bent over the paper, once more. "'If it had been otherwise;" Carton's hand was again watchfully and softly stealing down; "'I never should have used the longer opportunity.
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