双城记(4级)(txt+pdf+epub+mobi电子书下载)


发布时间:2021-04-06 06:23:30

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作者:(英)查尔斯·狄更斯

出版社:外语教学与研究出版社

格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT

双城记(4级)

双城记(4级)试读:

简介

时间是1775年,在巴黎的一家酒馆的楼上的一间屋子里坐着一位白发男人,他正忙着做鞋。他曾在巴士底狱当了18年的囚徒。现在他已是一个自由人了,然而他却不知道自己的名字,也认不出他的朋友。他所知道的就是他必须继续做鞋。

在一辆去巴黎的车上坐着路茜,这是他从未见过面的女儿。路茜把她父亲带回了伦敦,在女儿的爱心和照料之下,他忘掉了过去并学会了重像一个自由人那样去生活。

然而在法国大革命的暴风雨年代,过去既没有消失也没有被忘掉。于是不久过去的危险秘密地把路茜和她所爱的人们带回了巴黎……那儿恐怖的死亡机器——断头台正饥饿地等候着法兰西的敌人们。

查尔斯·狄更斯是英国最伟大的作家之一,他1812年出生于普茨茅斯,1870年去世。他出身贫寒,但在不幸的童年过后,他很快便变得富有和成功。在他众多的著名小说中有《雾都孤儿》、《远大前程》及《圣诞欢歌》。

1 The road to Paris—1775

t was the best of times,it was the worst of times. It was the season Iof light,it was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope,it was the winter of sadness. It was the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five.

In France there was a King and a Queen,and in England there was a King and a Queen. They believed that nothing would ever change. But in France things were bad,and getting worse. The people were poor,hungry and unhappy. The King made paper money and spent it,and the people had nothing to eat. Behind closed doors in the homes of the people,voices spoke in whispers against the King and his noblemen;they were only whispers,but they were the angry whispers of desperate people.

Late one November night,in that same year 1775,a coach going from London to Dover,stopped at the top of a long hill. The horses were tired,but as they rested,the driver heard anther horse coming fast up the hill behind them. The rider stopped his horse beside the coach and shouted:

'I want a passenger,Mr Jarvis Lorry,from Tellson's Bank in London.'

'I am Mr Jarvis Lorry,' said one of the passengers,putting his head out of the window. 'What do you want?'

'It's me!Jerry,Jerry Cruncher,from Tellson's Bank,sir,' cried the man on the horse.

'What's the matter,Jerry?' called Mr Lorry.

'A message for you,Mr Lorry. You've got to wait at Dover for a young lady.'

'Very well,Jerry,' said Mr Lorry. 'Tell them my answer is CAME BACK TO LIFE'.

It was a strange message,and a stranger answer. No one in the coach understood what they meant.

The next day Mr Lorry was sitting in his hotel in Dover when a young lady arrived. She was pretty,with golden hair and blue eyes,and Mr Lorry remembered a small child,almost a baby. He had carried her in his arms when he came from Calais to Dover,from France to England,many years ago. Mr Lorry asked the young lady to sit down.

'Miss Manette,' he said. 'I have a strange story to tell you,about one of the customers of Tellson's Bank. That's where I work.'

'Yes,but I don't quite understand,Mr Lorry,' said the young lady. 'I received a message from Tellson's Bank,asking me to come here to meet you. I understood there was some news about my poor father's money. He died so long ago—before I was born. What is this story you want to tell me?'

'About twenty years ago,Miss Manette,a French doctor married an English lady. They had a daughter,but just before she was born,her father disappeared. Nobody knew what had happened to him. Not long afterwards his unhappy wife died,and their daughter was brought back to England.'

'But this is like my father's story,Mr Lorry. And wasn't it you who brought me back to England?'

'Yes,that's true,Miss Manette. Many years ago I brought you from France to England,and Tellson's Bank has taken care of you since then. You were told that your father had died. But think,Miss Manette. Perhaps your father wasn't dead. Perhaps he was in prison. Not because he had done something wrong!But just because he had a powerful enemy—an enemy with the power to send him to prison and to keep him there,hidden and forgotten,for eighteen years!'

'Can it be true?Is it possible that my father is still alive?' Lucie Manette stared at Mr Lorry. Her face was white and her hands trembled. 'It will be his ghost—not him!'

'No,Miss Manette,' said Mr Lorry gently. 'He is alive,but he has changed very much. Even his name had been forgotten!And we must ask no questions about the past,no questions at all. It would be too dangerous. He has been taken to the house of an old servant in Paris,and we are going there to bring him back to life.'sadness n. unhappy feelings. 悲伤。whisper n. whispering sound or speech. 低声耳语。nobleman n. 贵族。coach n. four-wheeled carriage pulled by four or more horses. 四轮马车。passenger n. person being conveyed by bus,taxi,tram,train,ship,etc. 乘客,旅客。message n. piece of news,or a request,sent to sb. 消息。customer n. person who buys things. 顾客。marry v. take as a husband or a wife. 结婚。receive v. accept,take,get. 接受,接收。disappear v. go out of sight. 消失。powerful adj. having or producing great power. 有力的,强的。tremble v. shake involuntarily. 发抖。afterwards adv. after,later. 以后,后来。

1 去巴黎的路——1775年

那是最好的年代,也是最糟的年代。那是光明的时节,也是黑暗的时节。那是希望的春季,也是悲伤的冬日。那是公元1775年。

那时的法国有国王和王后,英国也有国王和王后,他们相信什么事情都不会改变。但是法国的境况很糟糕,而且是每况愈下。人民在贫穷、饥饿和不幸中生活。国王发行纸币进行挥霍,而百姓却要忍饥挨饿。在门户紧闭的家中,人们悄声地谈论着反对国王和他的贵族们的话题。它们只是低声的密谈,但却是绝望中的人们愤怒的声音。

就在那1775年11月的一个深夜,一辆从伦敦赶往多佛的马车停在了一条绵延的山丘的顶部。马匹都已经很累了,但在它们休息时,赶车人听到后面有另一匹马正急速地朝他们赶来。骑马人把马停在马车的旁边并喊道:“我要找伦敦台尔森银行来的贾维斯·劳里先生。”“我就是贾维斯·劳里先生,”车内的一位乘客从车窗探出头来说道。“有什么事吗?”“是我!杰里,杰里·克拉彻,从台尔森银行来的,先生。”马上的人喊道。“什么事,杰里?”劳里先生问道。“捎个信儿给您,劳里先生,您得在多佛等候一位年轻女士。”“好吧,杰里,”劳里先生说,“告诉他们,就说我的答复是‘活过来’。”

口信儿是奇特的,而答复就更奇特了。马车上的人都不明白他们在说什么。

第二天,劳里先生在多佛的旅馆里坐着时,来了一位年轻的女士。她很美,有一头金黄的头发和蓝色的眼睛,这让劳里先生想起了一个小孩儿,几乎是个婴儿。那是在很多年前,在从法国加莱去英国多佛的路上,他曾把她抱在怀里。劳里先生让这位年轻女士坐下来。“马内特小姐,”他说道。“我有个离奇的故事要告诉你,是关于台尔森银行的一位顾客的。台尔森银行是我工作的地方。”“好吧,但是我不太明白,劳里先生,”年轻的女士说,“我从台尔森银行接到口信,要我到这儿来见您。我知道一些有关我可怜的父亲的钱的事。他很早就已死了——还在我出生之前。您要告诉我的是什么故事呢?”“大约20年前,马内特小姐,有位法国医生娶了一位英国女士。他们有了一个女儿,但是还在他们的女儿出生之前,这位父亲却失踪了。没有人知道他出了什么事。不久,他那位伤心的妻子也死了,他们的女儿被带回了英国。”“但这像是我父亲的故事呀,劳里先生。况且不正是您把我带回英国的吗?”“是的,是这样的,马内特小姐。很多年前我把你从法国带到了英国,并且自那以后台尔森银行就开始照料你。人家告诉你说你的父亲已经死了。但是设想一下,马内特小姐,或许你的父亲那时并没有死,或许他在监狱里呢。那并不是因为他犯了什么罪!而只是因为他有一个强大的敌人——这个敌人拥有权势将他投进监狱,而且把他在那里与世隔绝、被人遗忘地关了18年!”“这是真的吗?我父亲可能还活着吗?”路茜·马内特紧盯着劳里先生。她的脸色苍白,双手颤抖着。“那会是他的灵魂,而不是他本人!”“不,马内特小姐,”劳里先生温和地说。“他还活着,只是有了很大的变化,就连他自己的名字也记不得了!我们绝对不可以问起从前的事,一点都不能问。那样的话就太危险了。他已经被带到巴黎一个旧日的仆人的家里,我们就是要去那里让他回到生活中来。”

2 A wine-shop in Paris

n the part of Paris called Saint Antoine everyone was poor. The Istreets were narrow and dirty,the food-shops were almost empty. The faces of the children looked old already,because they were so hungry. In the wine-shop of Monsieur Defarge there were not many customers and Defarge was outside,talking to a man in the street. His wife,Madame Defarge,sat inside the shop,knitting and watching. Defarge came in and his wife looked at him,then turned her eyes to look at two new customers,a man of about sixty and a young lady. Defarge went over to speak to them,suddenly kissed the young lady's hand,and led them out of the back of the shop. They followed him upstairs,many stairs,until they reached the top. Defarge took a key out of his pocket.

'Why is the door locked?' asked Mr Lorry in surprise. 'He is a free man now.'

'Because he has lived too long behind a locked door,' replied Defarge angrily. 'He is afraid if the door is not locked!That is one of the things they have done to him.'

'I'm afraid,too,' whispered Miss Manette. Her blue eyes looked worriedly at Mr Lorry. 'I am afraid of him—of my father.'

Defarge made a lot of noise as he opened the door. Mr Lorry and Lucie went into the room behind him. A thin,white haired man was sitting on a wooden seat. He was very busy,making shoes.

'Good day,' said Defarge. 'You are still working hard,I see.'

After a while they heard a whisper. 'Yes,I am still working.'

'Come,' said Defarge. 'You have a visitor. Tell him your name.'

'My name?' came the whisper. 'One Hundred and Five,North Tower.'

Mr Lorry moved closer to the old man. 'Dr Manette,don't you remember me,Jarvis Lorry?' he asked gently.

The old prisoner looked up at Mr Lorry,but there was no surprise,no understanding in his tired face,and he went back to work making shoes.

Slowly Lucie came near to the old man. After a while he noticed her.

'Who are you?' he asked.

Lucie put her arms around the old man and held him,tears of happiness and sadness running down her face. From a little bag the old man took some golden hair. He looked at it,and then he looked at Lucie's hair. 'It is the same. How can it be?' He stared into Lucie's face. 'No,no,you are too young,too young.'

Through her tears Lucie tried to explain that she was the daughter he had never seen. The old man still did not understand,but he seemed to like the sound of Lucie's voice and the touch of her warm young hand on his.

Then Lucie said to Mr Lorry,'I think we should leave Paris at once. Can you arrange it?'

'Yes,of course,' said Mr Lorry. 'But do you think he is able to travel?'

'He will be better far away from this city where he has lost so much of his life,' said Lucie.

'You are right,' said Defarge. 'And there are many other reasons why Dr Manette shoud leave France now.'

While Mr Lorry and Defarge went to arrange for a coach to take them out of Paris,Lucie sat with her father. Exhausted by the meeting,he fell asleep on the floor,and his daughter watched him quietly and patiently until it was time to go.

When Mr Lorry returned,he and Defarge brought food and clothes for Dr Manette. The Doctor did everything they told him to do;he had been used to obeying orders for so many years. As he came down the stairs,Mr Lorry heard him say again and again,'One Hundred and Five,North Tower.'

When they went to the coach,only one person saw them go: Madame Defarge. She stood in the doorway,and knitted and watched,seeing everything... and seeing nothing.narrow adj. measuring little across in comparison with length. 窄的。knit v. make by looping wool,silk,etc. 编织。reply v. answer. 回答。lock v. fasten with a lock. 锁。wooden adj. made of wood. 木制的。prisoner n. person kept in prison for crime or until tried in a law-court. 犯人。stare v. look fixedly. 瞪视。notice v. observe. 注意,看到。arrange v. provide for. 安排。exhaust v. use up completely. 用尽。patient adj. having,showing,patience. 有耐性的。obey v. do what one is told to do. 服从,执行。

2 巴黎的一家酒店

在巴黎的一个名叫圣安东尼的地方,所有的人都很穷。街道狭窄肮脏,食品店几乎都是空的。孩子们的脸已显出老态,因为他们太饥饿了。在得法热先生的酒店里没有多少顾客,得法热则在门外与街上的一个男人交谈着。他的妻子得法热夫人正坐在店里一边织毛衣一边观察着周围。得法热走进店来,他的妻子看着他,然后就把眼光转过去盯着两位新来的顾客,他们是一位大约60岁的男人和一位年轻的女士。得法热走过去同他们说话,他突然吻起了那位小姐的手,接着领着他们从店铺后面走出去。他们跟着他上楼,爬了很多级楼梯才到达楼顶。得法热从兜里掏出一把钥匙来。“为什么锁着门?”劳里先生惊讶地问,“他现在是个自由人了。”“因为他在上了锁的房子里生活的时间太长了,”得法热气愤地回答说,“门要是不锁上他就会害怕!这是他们给他造成的恶果之一。”“我也害怕,”马内特小姐低声地说。她那蓝蓝的眼睛忧心地看着劳里先生。“我害怕他——我的父亲。”

得法热开门时弄出了很多响声,劳里先生和路茜跟在他后面进了屋子。一个瘦削、满头白发的人正坐在一个木头凳子上。他在忙着做鞋子。“您好,”得法热说,“您还在忙着哪?”

过了一会儿他们才听到一声嘟哝:“是的,我还在干着活。”“瞧,”得法热说,“有人来看您了。告诉他们您的名字。”“我的名字?”嘟哝声传过来道。“一百零五,北塔。”

劳里先生走近了老人。“马内特医生,您不记得我了吗,贾维斯·劳里?”他轻声地问道。

这个老犯人抬起头看着劳里先生,但是没有表现出惊奇,疲惫的脸上没有显示出他明白了什么的表情,然后他又重新做起鞋来。

路茜慢慢地走近了老人。过了片刻他才注意到了她。“你是谁?”他问道。

路茜伸出胳膊抱住了老人并搂紧他,悲喜交加的泪水滚下了脸颊。老人从一个小包里拿出几缕金发。他看看它们,然后又看看路茜的头发。“是一样的,这怎么可能呢?”他凝视着路茜的脸,“不,不,你太年轻了,太年轻了。”

路茜含着泪竭力地要说明她是他从未曾见过的女儿。老人仍旧不明白,但却似乎很喜欢路茜的声音以及她年轻温暖的手触摸他的手。

后来路茜对劳里先生说:“我看我们得马上离开巴黎。您能安排一下吗?”“是的,当然能,”劳里先生说,“但你认为他能够旅行吗?”“远离这个让他失去生命中如此之多的城市,他就会好些的。”路茜说道。“您说得对,”得法热说,“况且让马内特医生马上离开法国还有很多其他的原因。”

在劳里先生和得法热去安排载他们出巴黎的马车时,路茜陪坐在她父亲的身旁。他被这次相会弄得疲倦极了,便在地板上睡着了,他的女儿则安静而耐心地看顾着他,直到该走的时候。

劳里先生回来时,他和得法热给马内特医生带回来些食物和衣服。医生完全照着他们的要求行事,这么多年来他已经习惯了服从命令。在他下楼时,劳里先生听见他一遍又一遍地说着“105,北塔。”

在他们朝马车走去时,只有一个人看到了他们,那就是得法热夫人。她站在门口,边织着毛衣边观察着。她看到了所有的事情……但没有发现任何的问题。

3 A trial in London—1780

ellson's Bank in the City of London was an old,dark,and ugly Tbuilding. It smelt of dust and old papers,and the people who worked there all seemed old and dusty,too. Outside the building sat Jerry Cruncher,who carried messages for people in the bank.

One morning in March 1780,Jerry had to go to the Old Bailey to collect an important message from Mr Lorry. Trials at the Old Bailey were usually for very dangerous criminals,and the prisoner that morning was a young man of about twenty-five,well dressed and quite calm.

'What's he done?' Jerry asked the doorman quietly.

'He's a spy!A French spy!' the doorman told him. 'He travels from England to France and tells the French King secret information about our English army.'

'What'll happen if he's guilty?' asked Jerry.

'Oh,he'll have to die,no question of that,' replied the doorman enthusiastically. 'They'll hang him.'

'What's his name?'

'Darnay,Charles Darnay. Not an English name,is it?'

While Jerry waited,he looked around at the crowd inside the Old Bailey and noticed a young lady of about twenty years,and her father,a gentleman with very white hair. The young lady seemed very sad when she looked at the prisoner,and held herself close to her father.

Then the trial began,and the first person who spoke against Charles Darnay was called John Barsad.

He was an honest man,he said,and proud to be an Englishman. Yes,he was,or had been,a friend of the prisoner's. And in the prisoner's pockets he had seen important plans and lists about the English armies. No,of course he had not put the lists there himself. And no,he was not a spy himself,he was not someone paid to make traps for innocent people.

Next the young lady spoke. She said that she had met the prisoner on the boat which had carried her and her father from France to England. 'He was very good and kind to my father and to me,' she said.

'Was he travelling alone on the ship?'

'No,he was with two French gentlemen.'

'Now,Miss Manette,did you see him show them any papers,or anything that looked like a list?'

'No,I didn't see anything like that.'

Questions,questions,questions!The trial went on,and finally,a small,red-haired man spoke. He told the judge that he had seen Mr Darnay at a hotel in a town where there were many soldiers and ships. Then one of the lawyers,a man called Sydney Carton,wrote some words on a piece of paper,and gave it to Mr Stryver,the lawyer who was speaking for Mr Darnay.

'Are you quite sure that the prisoner is the man you saw?' Mr Stryver asked the red-haired man.

'Quite sure,' said the man.

'Have you ever seen anyone like the prisoner?' asked Mr Stryver.

'I'd always be able to recognize him.' The red-haired man was very confident.

'Then I must ask you to look at the gentleman over there,' said Mr Stryver,pointing to Sydney Carton. 'Don't you think that he is very like the prisoner?'

Everyone in the court could see that Sydney Carton and Charles Darnay were indeed very similar.

'Well then,' said Mr Stryver,'it is so easy to find a man like the prisoner that we can even find one in this room. So how can you be so sure that it was the prisoner you saw in that hotel?'

And the red-haired man said not another word.

The lawyers talked and argued,and when at last the trial came to an end,Jerry Cruncher had fallen asleep.

But Mr Lorry woke him up and gave him a piece of paper. 'NOT GUILTY' were the words written on it,and Jerry hurried back to Tellson's Bank with the message.

Sydney Carton seemed to be a man who did not care about anyone or anything. He was Mr Stryver's assistant. In fact,he did most of the real work for Mr Stryver. Stryver was good at speaking at a trial,but he was not good at discovering important facts and details,especially when these details were hidden in a lot of papers. Every night Carton studied the many papers that lawyers have to read,and he wrote down the questions which Stryver should ask at the next day's trial. And every day Stryver asked these questions,and people thought how clever he was.

Outside the Old Bailey Mr Darnay,now a free man,met his friends: Dr Manette and his daughter Lucie,Mr Jarvis Lorry,Mr Stryver,and Mr Carton.

Dr Manette no longer looked like the man in the room above Defarge's wine-shop five years ago. His hair was white,but his eyes were bright and he stood straight and strong. Sometimes his face became dark and sad when he remembered the years in the Bastille prison;at these times only his daughter Lucie,whom he loved so much,could help him.

As they stood there talking,a strange expression came over Dr Manette's face. He was staring at Charles Darnay,but he did not seem to see him. For a few moments there was dislike,even fear in his eyes. 'My father,' said Lucie softly,putting her hand on his arm,'shall we go home now?'

'Yes,' he answered slowly.

Soon they drove off in a coach,and then Mr Stryver and Mr Lorry walked away,leaving Mr Darnay and Mr Carton alone.

'It must be strange for you,' said Carton,'to be a free man again,and to be standing here,talking to a man who looks just like you. Let us go out and eat together.'

After they had eaten,Carton said softly,'How sad and worried Miss Manette was for you today!She's a very beautiful young woman,don't you think?'

Darnay did not reply to what Carton had said,but he thanked him for his help at the trial.

'I don't want your thanks,' replied Carton. 'I have done nothing. And I don't think I like you.'

'Well,' said Darnay,'you have no reason to like me. But I hope that you will allow me to pay the bill for both of us.'

'Of course. And as you are paying for me,I'll have another bottle of wine.'

After Darnay had left,Carton drank some more wine and looked at himself in the mirror. He was angry because Darnay looked so much like him,but was so different. Carton knew that he was a clever lawyer,and that he was a good and honest man,but he had never been successful for himself. He drank too much,and his life was unhappy and friendless. His cleverness and his hard work in the law only made others,like Mr Stryver,successful and rich. He remembered Lucie Manette's worried face when she watched Darnay in court.

'If I changed places with Darnay,' he whispered to himself,'would those blue eyes of Miss Manette look at me,in the same way?No,no,it's too late now.'

He drank another bottle of wine and fell asleep.

In a quiet street not far away was the house where Dr Manette and Lucie lived. They had one servant,Miss Pross,who had taken care of Lucie since she was a child. Miss Pross had red hair and a quick,sharp voice,and seemed at first sight a very alarming person. But everybody knew that she was in fact a warm-hearted and unselfish friend,who would do anything to guard her darling Lucie from trouble or danger.

Dr Manette was now well enough to work as a doctor,and he,Lucie,and Miss Pross led a quiet,comfortable life. Mr Lorry,who had become a close family friend,came regularly to the house,and in the months after the trial,Mr Darnay and Mr Carton were also frequent visitors. This did not please Miss Pross at all,who always looked very cross when they came.

'Nobody is good enough for my darling Lucie,' she told Mr Lorry one day,'and I don't like all these hundreds of visitors.'

Mr Lorry had a very high opinion of Miss Pross,but he wasn't brave enough to argue that two visitors were not 'hundreds'. Nobody argued with Miss Pross if they could avoid it.trial n. examination in court of law before a judge. 审讯。criminal adj. of crime. 犯罪的。enthusiastically adv. full of enthusiasm. 热心地,热情洋溢地。information n. sth. told;news or knowledge given. 消息,情报。spy n. person who tries to get secret information. esp. about the military affairs of other countries. 间谍。trap v. capture by a trick. 陷害。innocent adj. not guilty. 无罪的。confident adj. feeling or showing confidence. 有信心的。similar adj. like. 类似的。assistant n. helper. 助手。detail n. collection of such small facts or items. 详情。gentleman n. polite form of address to male members of an audience. 先生。write down take a note of. 记下,写下。straight adj. without a bend or curve. 直的。expression n. a person's facial appearance. 表情。dislike v. not like. 不喜欢。allow v. let,permit. 允许bill n. statement of charges for goods delivered or services rendered. 账单。servant n. person who works in a household for wages,food,and lodging. 仆人。mirror n. 镜子。successful adj. having the gaining of what is aimed at. 成功的。alarming adj. causing alarm. 吓人的。frequent adj. often happening. 时常发生的。avoid v. keep or get away from. 避免。regularly adv. in a regular manner. 经常地。

3 伦敦的一次审判——1780年

伦敦城里的台尔森银行是一座古老、灰暗而且丑陋的建筑。这里充斥着灰尘和废纸的气味,就连在里面工作的人似乎也都古旧而灰头灰脑的。负责为银行里的人传书送信的杰里·克拉彻坐在银行的外面。

1780年3月的一天早晨,杰里要去旧巴勒从劳里先生那儿获取一条重要信息。在旧巴勒的审判往往都是对那些非常危险的犯人进行的,而那天早上的罪犯是一个大约25岁左右的年轻人。他穿着体面,人也很沉着。“他犯了什么罪?”杰里轻声地问看门人。“他是一个间谍!一个法国间谍!”看门人告诉他,“他从英国赶到法国,然后把英国军队的动向秘报给了法国国王。”“如果判他有罪的话他会受什么样的惩罚?”杰里问。“哦,得判死刑,这是无疑的。”看门人情绪高昂地回答说,“他们会绞死他的。”“他叫什么名字?”“代尔那,查尔斯·代尔那。不是一个英国名字,是吧?”

杰里一边等着,一边朝旧巴勒里的人群巡视。他注意到了一位20岁左右的年轻女子和她的父亲——一位白发苍苍的绅士。当年轻女子看着罪犯时显得很悲伤,并紧紧地搂住她的父亲。

审判开始了。第一个起诉查尔斯·代尔那的人名叫约翰·巴萨德。他自称是一个诚实的人,并以自己是英国人而自豪。他承认自己是或曾经是罪犯的一个朋友,而且他曾见过罪犯的衣袋里有一些关于英国军队的重要计划和图表。当然,他否认是他本人把图表放进去的,也否认自己是间谍,他也不是受人收买而去陷害无辜的那种人。

接下来是那个年轻女子发言。她说在她和父亲从法国来英国的船上曾遇到过这个犯人。“他对我父亲和我都很友善。”她说。“他当时是只身一人乘船旅行的吗?”“不,他和两个法国人在一起。”“那么,马内特小姐,你看到他给他们看了什么文件或任何类似表格的东西吗?”“没有,我没有看见过任何这类的东西。”

问题一个接着一个地提出来!审判继续进行着。最后,一位矮小、红头发的男人说话了。他告诉法官说他曾在一个小镇的一家旅馆见到过代尔那先生,那儿有很多的士兵和船只。接下来一位名叫西得尼·卡登的律师在一张纸上写了几个字并把它递给代尔那先生的辩护律师史太弗先生。“你能肯定这个犯人就是你见过的那个人吗?”史太弗先生问那个红头发男人。“非常肯定。”他说。“你曾见过和这个罪犯长得相像的人吗?”史太弗先生问。“无论如何我都能把他认出来的。”红头发男人非常自信。“那么我得请您看看那边的那位先生,”史太弗先生指着西得尼·卡登说,“您不认为他长得非常像这位犯人吗?”

法庭上的每一个人都能看出西得尼·卡登和查尔斯·代尔那长得的确很相像。“那么说,”史太弗先生说道。“很容易就能找到一个与罪犯相像的人,甚至在这间屋子里我们就能找出一个和罪犯长得酷似的人,那你又怎么能确信你在旅馆里看到的人就是罪犯呢?”

红头发男人再也说不出话来了。

律师们开始争辩讨论。当审判最后结束时,杰里·克拉彻都已睡着了。

但是劳里先生叫醒他并且给了他一张纸条,上面写着“无罪”的字样,杰里便急急忙忙地带着这条消息回了银行。

西得尼·卡登似乎对任何人或任何事都不在乎。他是史太弗先生的助手,实际上,多数实际工作是他代劳的。史太弗先生在法庭上能言善辩,但却不擅长于发现重要的事实和细节,尤其是当这些细节隐藏在一大堆文件中的时候。每天晚上卡登都要研读那些律师必读的文件,然后写下史太弗在第二天的审判中所要问的问题。每天史太弗问到这些问题时,人们都会赞叹他的机智。

在旧巴勒的外面,现在已是自由人的代尔那先生和他的朋友们在一起:有马内特医生和他的女儿路茜、贾维斯·劳里先生、史太弗先生和卡登先生。

马内特医生看上去已不再是5年前在得法热酒店楼上房间里的那个样子了。他的头发白了,但眼睛炯炯有神。他站姿笔直,显得很矍铄。有时当他想起在巴士底狱的日子,脸上就会显得阴沉而悲伤。这时只有他所钟爱的女儿路茜能让他快活起来。

在他们站着谈话时,一种奇怪的表情掠过医生的脸。他盯着查尔斯·代尔那,但又似乎并没有看他。有好一阵儿他的眼中都显出反感甚至是恐惧的神情。“爸爸,”路茜柔声地说着,并把手放在了他的胳膊上,“我们回家好吗?”“好吧。”他慢慢地答道。

很快他们就坐上马车走了。然后,史太弗先生和劳里先生也走开了,剩下代尔那先生和卡登先生单独在一起。“你一定感到奇怪。”卡登说,“你又自由了,而且站在这儿和一个长得酷似你的人谈话。我们一起出去吃一顿吧。”

饭后,卡登轻声地说,“瞧,今天马内特小姐为你多么伤心着急呀!她可是个漂亮的姑娘,你不这么认为吗?”

代尔那没有回应卡登的话,而是对他在法庭上的帮助表示感谢。“我不要你的感谢。”卡登说,“我没做什么。我想我也并不喜欢你。”“好吧,”代尔那说,“你没有理由要喜欢我,但是我希望你允许我为我们两个人付账。”“当然。而且既然你要为我付账,那么我就再来一瓶葡萄酒吧。”

代尔那走后,卡登又喝了些酒,并照了照镜子。让他恼火的是代尔那长得和他如此相像,但是他们又如此不同。卡登明白自己是一个精明的律师,又是一个诚实的好人,但他自己却从未成功过。他酗酒,生活不幸且没有朋友。他在法律方面的聪明才智和辛勤工作仅仅使得他人,比如史太弗先生,名利双收。路茜·马内特在法庭上看着代尔那时的焦急面容仍在他的脑海中。“如果我和代尔那换个位置,”他悄声对自己说,“马内特小姐的那双蓝眼睛也会那样看着我吗?不,不,现在已经太晚了。”

他又喝了一瓶酒,然后就睡着了。

马内特医生和路茜所住的房子就在不远处的一条宁静的街上。他们有一个仆人,普罗斯小姐。路茜从小时候起就是由她带大的。普罗斯小姐有一头红发,说话急促而尖利。第一眼看上去她会让人感到害怕。但每个人都知道她实际上是个热心而无私的朋友。她会不惜一切地保护她亲爱的路茜免遭麻烦和危险。

马内特医生现在已恢复得很好,已经可以胜任医生的工作了。他、路茜和普罗斯小姐过着宁静而舒适的生活。劳里先生已成为这个家的亲密朋友,经常来这里做客。同时在那个审判会过后几个月,代尔那先生和卡登先生也成了这里的常客,这让普罗斯小姐一点儿都不高兴。每次他们来时她都显得很生气。“没有人能配得上我亲爱的路茜。”她有一天对劳里先生说,“而且我也不喜欢这成百个的客人。”

劳里先生很看重普罗斯小姐,可他却没有足够的勇气去和她争论说两个客人够不上“成百个”。只要能避免就没人愿意去和普罗斯小姐争吵。

4 The Marquis of Evrémonde

he Marquis of Evrémonde was a disappointed man. He had Twaited for hours at the palace of the King of France,but the King had not spoken to him. Angrily,the Marquis got into his coach and told the driver to take him home. Very soon the coach was driving fast out of Paris,and the people in the narrow streets had to run to get out of the way—if they could. At the corner of a street in Saint Antoine,one of the coach wheels hit something,and the people in the street screamed loudly. The horses were frightened and stopped.

'What has gone wrong?' asked the Marquis calmly,looking out of the window of the coach. A tall man had picked something up from under the feet of the horses and was crying loudly over it.

'Why is that man making that terrible noise?' asked the Marquis impatiently.

'I'm sorry,Monsieur the Marquis. It is his child,' said one of the people.

'Dead!Killed!' screamed the man.

The people in the street came close to the coach and looked at the Marquis with stony,silent faces. The Marquis looked back at them in bored dislike. To him,they were no more than animals.

'I can't understand,' he said coldly,'why you people cannot take care of yourselves and your children. I hope my horses are not hurt.' And he threw a gold coin to his driver. 'Give this to that man!'

'Dead!' shouted the father of the child again.

Another man came forward. 'Be brave,Gaspard. Your child has died quickly,and without pain. It is better to die like that than to go on living in these terrible times.'

'You are a sensible man,' said the Marquis from his coach. 'What is your name?'

'They call me Defarge.'

'This is for you,' said the Marquis,and he threw Defarge another gold coin. 'Drive on,' he called to his driver.

Just as the coach was leaving,a coin was thrown back in through the window. The Marquis looked angrily at the corner where Defarge had been standing. Defarge had gone. At the corner there now stood a large,dark-haired woman,knitting. She stared long and hard at the face of the Marquis,but he did not look at her,and drove on.

Later that day,as the sun was going down,the same coach stopped in a village near the Marquis's castle. Several villagers,in poor thin clothes,with thin hungry faces,were standing in the village square. The Marquis looked at their faces and then pointed to one of them.

'Bring that man to me,' he said to his driver.

The man came up to the coach,hat in hand,and the other villagers moved closer to listen.

'I passed you on the road just outside the village,' said the Marquis. 'You were looking at my coach in a very strange way. Why was that?'

'Monsieur,I was looking at the man,' came the reply.

'What man?' asked the Marquis angrily.

'The man who was holding on under your coach,' said the poor man,trembling with fear.

'What was he like?'

'Oh,Monsieur,he was white from head to foot. All covered with dust. Just like a ghost.'

'Where is he now?What happened to him?'

'Oh,he ran away down the hill outside the village.'

The Marquis turned to speak to another man. This was Monsieur Gabelle,the Marquis's official in the village.

'Gabelle,' the Marquis said,'watch out for this man. If he comes here,put him in prison.'When the Marquis arrived at his castle,he asked if his nephew,Monsieur Charles,had arrived from England.

'Not yet,sir,' replied the servant,but as the Marquis was eating his dinner,he heard the sound of a coach outside. Soon his nephew entered the room. In England he was known as Charles Darnay.

'You've been away for a long time,' said the Marquis,with his cold,polite smile.

'I've had many problems in England. Perhaps because of you,' Darnay said to his uncle. 'I was in great danger.'

'No,no,I had nothing to do with your problems,' replied the Marquis coldly. 'Unfortunately,our family no longer has the power that it once had.'

'If it still had that power,one word from you would doubtless send me to prison,' said Darnay.

'Possibly. For the good of our family.'

'The name of our family is hated everywhere in France. We are hard,cruel landowners. Our miserable people own nothing. They work for us night and day,but they don't even have enough food for themselves and their children. If this land became mine,I would give it away,and go and live somewhere else.'

'You seem to be very fond of England,although you are not a rich man there,' said the Marquis. 'I believe you know another Frenchman who has found a safe home there. A Doctor,I believe?'

'Yes.'

'With a daughter?'

'Yes.'

'Yes,' said the Marquis with a secret smile on his face. 'So,a new way of life begins. But you are tired. Goodnight,Charles. Sleep well. I shall see you in the morning.'

After his nephew had gone to bed,the Marquis went to his room. The castle was surrounded with darkness. In the villages nearby the hungry people dreamt of a better life,with enough good food to eat,and time to rest from their work.

Early in the morning the dreamers awoke and started their day's hard work. The people in the castle did not get up until later,but when they did,why did the great bell start ringing?Why did people run out of the castle to the village as fast as they could?

The answer lay in the bed of the Marquis. He lay there,like stone,with a knife pushed into his heart. On his chest lay a piece of paper with the words:

'Drive him fast to his grave. This is from JACQUES.'disappointed adj. sad at not getting what was hoped for. 失望的。hit v. strike,come against with force. 撞,碰。scream v. give a loud,sharp cry of. 尖声叫喊。stony adj. hard,cold,and unsympathetic. 冷酷的,无情的。take care of look after. 照看,照顾。coin n. metal money. 硬币。sensible adj. having or showing good sense. 明智的。square n. square space in a town,with buildings round it. 广场。point to direct attention to. 指向。ghost n. spirit of a dead person appearing to sb. still living. 鬼,幽灵。official n. person holding a government position or engaged in public work. 官员。castle n. large building or group of buildings fortified against attack,esp. as in olden times. 古堡,城堡。enter v. come or go into. 进入。unfortunately adv. in an unfortunate manner. 不幸地。doubtless adv. without doubt;very probably. 无疑地。miserable adj. very unhappy. 不幸的,可怜的。cruel adj. taking pleasure in the suffering of others. 残忍的。awake adj. roused from sleep. 被唤醒的。chest n. upper front part of the body. 胸部。

4 埃弗蒙侯爵

埃弗蒙侯爵很失望。他在法国王宫里等了好几个小时了,可是国王一直没和他说话。侯爵怒气冲冲地上了马车并告诉车夫送他回家。很快马车就快速地驶出巴黎,人们不得不在狭窄的街道上跑着给它让路——如果他们能做到的话。在圣安东尼的一个街道的拐角处,马车的一个车轮撞上了什么东西,街上的人们都尖叫起来。马匹受了惊吓,停了下来。“出了什么事?”侯爵从车窗探出头来沉着地问。一个高个子男人已从马蹄底下捡起了什么东西并朝它大哭起来。“那个男人干嘛弄出那么可怕的声音?”侯爵不耐烦地问。“对不起,侯爵先生,那是他的孩子。”其中一个人说。“死了!被撞死了!”那个男人哭喊道。

街上的人们走近马车,带着冰冷、无言的表情看着侯爵。侯爵不耐烦又厌恶地回头看着他们。对他来说,他们不过是些动物而已。“我真不明白,”他冷冷地说,“你们这帮人为什么不能照顾好自己和你们的孩子。但愿我的马没有受伤。”接着他把一个金币扔给车夫。“把它给那个男人!”“死了呀!”孩子的父亲又一次嚷道。

另外一个男人走上前来。“勇敢些,加斯珀,你的孩子很快地就死了,而且没有痛苦,这样死掉总比活在这个可怕的年月里要好些。”“你是一个通情达理的人。”侯爵在马车上说。“你叫什么名字?”“他们叫我得法热。”“这是给你的。”侯爵说着,将另一枚金币扔给得法热。“继续走。”他对他的车夫喊道。

就在马车离开时,一枚金币从车窗扔进了车里。侯爵愤怒地看着得法热一直站着的那个拐角处。得法热已经走了。那个拐角处现在站着一个身材高大、黑头发的女人在织着毛线活儿。她长久地死死盯着侯爵的脸,但他并没有看她而是接着赶路。

那天的晚些时候,太阳落山时,那同一辆马车停在了侯爵的城堡附近的一个村子里。几个衣衫褴褛、面黄饥瘦的村民正站在村里的场地上。侯爵看着他们的脸庞然后指着其中的一个人。“把那个男人带过来。”他对他的车夫说道。

那个人朝马车走过来,手里拿着帽子,其余的村民都走近前来聆听。“我在村外的那条路上从你旁边经过,”侯爵说,“你当时正用一种奇特的眼光看着我的马车。为什么要这样?”“先生,我那时正看着那个男人。”回答说。“什么男人?”侯爵生气地问。“就是那个扒在您马车底下的男人。”这个可怜人说道,身子因为害怕而发抖。“他长得什么样?”“,先生,他从头到脚都是白的,全身是土,活象一个鬼魂。”“他现在在哪儿?他怎么啦?”“哦,他朝村外的山脚下跑去了。”

侯爵转过身去和另外一个人说话。那是加贝尔先生,是侯爵在村子里的官员。“加贝尔,”侯爵说,“留神这个人。如果他来这儿,就把他送进监狱。”

当侯爵到了他的城堡后,他便问起他侄儿查尔斯先生是否从英格兰回来了。“还没有,先生。”仆人回答说。但是在侯爵吃晚饭时,他听到外面有马车的声音。不久他的侄子便走进屋来。在英国他的名字是查尔斯·代尔那。“你离开很长时间了。”侯爵带着冷冷的、有礼貌的微笑说道。“我在英国遇到了很多麻烦,也许是因为你。”代尔那对他的叔叔说,“我的处境曾经非常危险。”“不,不,我和你遇到的麻烦没有关系。”侯爵冷漠地说,“很不幸,我们的家族不再有它以往的权势了。”“如果还有那样的权势,你的一句话就可以毫无疑问地把我送进监狱了。”“也许吧。为了家族的利益嘛。”“我们家族的名字在法国所有的地方都令人痛恨。我们是心狠手辣的地主。我们苦难的人民一无所有。他们日夜为我们工作,可他们和他们的孩子却食不果腹。如果把这些土地给我,我就把它们分给别人,然后离开这儿去别处生活。”“你似乎很喜欢英国,尽管你在那儿算不上一个有钱人,”侯爵说,“我想你认识另外一个法国人,他已在那儿找到了安身之所。他是个医生,对吗?”“是的。”“他有一个女儿?”“是的。”“啊,”侯爵说,脸上露出神秘的笑容。“那么,一种新的生活方式开始啦。但是你已经累了。晚安,查尔斯,祝你睡个好觉,我明天早上再见你。”

在他侄儿上床后,侯爵进了自己的房间。城堡被夜色包围。附近村子里饥饿的人们在梦想着过上好一点的生活,以便有足够的好食物吃,还可以工作后有时间休息。

一大早人们便从睡梦中醒来开始他们一天的辛勤劳作。城堡里的人很晚才会起床的。可等到他们起床时,为什么那个大钟开始响了起来呢?人们为什么拼命地从城堡往村子里跑呢?

答案就在侯爵的床上。侯爵像一块石头僵躺在床上。一把尖刀插进了他的心脏,在他的胸前放着一张纸条,上面写着:“快把他送进他的坟墓。这是雅克干的。”

5 Two men speak of love

welve months after the death of the Marquis in France,Charles TDarnay had become a successful teacher of French in London. He had known,when he came to London,that he would have to work hard to earn his living,and he was successful. He was also in love. He had loved Lucie Manette from the time when his life was in danger in the Old Bailey. He had never heard a sound so sweet as her gentle voice;he had never seen a face so beautiful as hers. But he had never spoken to her about his love. The death of his uncle in France had become,over the twelve months,like a dream to him,but he had said nothing to Lucie of his feelings,nor of what had happened. He had good reason for this.

But one day in the summer he came to Dr Manette's home in London. He knew that Lucie was out with Miss Pross,and he had decided to speak to her father. Dr Manette was now strong in body and mind,and sad memories of his long years in prison did not come back to him often. When Darnay arrived,the Doctor welcomed him warmly.

'Dr Manette,' said Darnay,'I know that Lucie is out. But I have come here today to speak to you.'

There was a silence. 'Do you want to speak to me about Lucie?' asked the Doctor,slowly.

'Yes. Dear Dr Manette,I love your daughter dearly. If there was ever love in the world,I love Lucie.

'I believe you,' said Dr Manette sadly. 'It's very hard for me to speak of her at any time,but I believe you,Charles Darnay. Have you spoken to Lucie about your love?'

'No,never. I know how much your daughter means to you,Dr Manette. Her love for you,and your love for her,these are the greatest things in your life,and in hers. I love Lucie. With all my heart I love her. But I do not want to come between you and her. The two of you will never be separated because of me.'

For a moment Dr Manette turned his head away,and his eyes were full of fear,and pain. Then he looked back at Darnay,and tried to smile.

'You have spoken very honestly,Charles,' he said. 'Have you any reason to believe that Lucie loves you?'

'None!'

'Then what do you want from me?'

'A promise. A promise that if Lucie ever tells you that she loves me,you will not speak against me,and will tell her what I have said. I know that she would never accept me if she believed that it would make you unhappy.'

'I can promise you more than that,Charles. If Lucie ever tells me that she loves you,I shall give her to you.'

'Thank you,Dr Manette,' said Darnay,gratefully. 'There is one thing more. My name in England is not my real name. I want to tell you what my real name is,and why I am in England.'

'Stop!' said the Doctor. He had even put his hands over his ears. 'I don't want to know. Tell me when I ask you. If Lucie agrees to marry you,you shall tell me on the morning of your marriage.'

It was dark when Darnay left Dr Manette,and it was some time later when Lucie and Miss Pross came home.

'Father,' Lucie called,'where are you?' She heard no answer,but there were strange sounds coming from her father's bedroom. Frightened,she ran upstairs and found her father,pale and silent,busy at his old prison work of making shoes. The shadow of the Bastille had fallen on him again. She took his arm and spoke gently to him,and together they walked up and down for a long time until at last Dr Manette went quietly to bed.Although Mr Carton visited Dr Manette's house quite often,he usually said very little when he was there. One day in August he arrived when Dr Manette was out and he was received by Lucie. She had always been a little shy with him,but on that day she noticed something different in his face.

'Aren't you well,Mr Carton?' she asked.

'No,probably not,Miss Manette,but my way of life is not good for my health.'

'That seems sad,' said Lucie gently. 'Why do you not change your way of life?'

'It's too late for that. I shall never be better than I am. But,Miss Manette,there is something that I want to say to you,but I find it so difficult. Will you listen to me?'

'If it will help you,Mr Carton,I will be happy to listen to you,' said Lucie,but she was pale and trembling.

'Miss Manette,I know that you could never have feelings of love for me,a man who has spent his life so badly.'

'Even without my love,Mr Carton,can I not save you?Can I not help you?'

'No,Miss Manette,' said Carton. 'Even if it was possible for you to love me,it is too late for me. I would only make you sad,and destroy your life. But it has been a last dream of my heart. To see you and your father together,to see the home that you have made for him—this has brought back old and happier memories for me.'

'Can I do nothing to help you?' asked Lucie sadly.

'Only this,Miss Manette. Let me remember that I spoke to you of the feelings of my heart,and that you were kind and gentle towards me.'

'Oh,Mr Carton. Try again to change.'

'No,Miss Manette,it is too late. My bad habits will never change now. But tell me that you will never speak of what I have said today,not to anyone,not even to the person dearest to you.'

'Mr Carton,' said Lucie. 'This is your secret. No one will ever know it from me.'

'Thank you,Miss Manette. I shall never speak of this again. But in the hour of my death,it will be a happy memory for me that my last words of love were to you.'

Lucie had never heard Mr Carton speak like this before. Tears came to her eyes as she thought of his hopeless,miserable life.

'Don't cry,' said Sydney Carton. 'I am not worth your love. But you should know that for you,or for anyone close to you,I would do anything. Please remember always,that there is a man who would give his life to keep someone you love alive and close to you. Goodbye,Miss Manette.'On the day of Lucie's marriage to Charles Darnay,Mr Lorry and Miss Pross stood,with Lucie,outside the door of Dr Manette's room. Inside,the Doctor and Mr Darnay had been talking together for a long time.

Soon it would be time to leave for the church. Lucie looked very beautiful,and Mr Lorry watched her proudly. He talked about the day,so long ago,when he had brought Lucie,as a baby in his arms,from France to England. Miss Pross,too,had her memories and thought fondly of her brother Solomon. He had stolen money from her

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