The Birmingham age-herald., 1908-05-31

ploy of the Republican Government under an assumed name. Inference as clear as day in this reign of suspicion that he Is still spy in the employ of the English. That's a card not to be beaten"
 What do you wish?" asked the spy sullenly.
 You are a turnkey at the Concier- gerie."
 T tell you once for all there is no such thing as an escape possible" re- piled the spy.
 T do not ask it. said Carton. "Lis- ten," and he brought his mouth close to Barsad's ear. The spy looked at him in dumb amazement.
 "Is your hazard very great?" he de- manded.
 MT. Carton," the spy answered, "my hazard is nothing in that plan, if you are true to the whole of your bargain" Don't fear me I will be true," re- piled Carton. The night wore away. In the prison the doomed of the day awaited their fate Charles Darnay, permitting him self no fattering delusion, had written his last letters to those he loved. He , heard hour after hour struck off from the time left him, and walked up and down, praying.
 Suddenly a key was turned in the lock of his door, man entered, the door was locked again, and before him, with the light of a smile on his face, and cautionary finger on his lips, stood Sydney Carton. Swiftly he pressed Charles Darnay into chair. Take off your boots," he whispered, "and draw on mine"
 Carton, there is no escaping from this place. It is madness
 Did I ask you, my dear Darnay, to pass that door? When I ask that. re- fuse Sit here and write. Quick, friend, quick"
 Pressing his hand to his bewildered b cad Darnay stopped to write. Car toms hand slowly and softly moved down to his face.
 The pen dropped from Darnay's hand. What vapor is that7" asked he vacantly.
 Again the hand came watchfully and tried to arise, with a reproaohful look; but Cartons right hand was close and firm at his nostril and his left arm was tight around his waist. In a moment or two Darnay was stretched insensi- ble on the ground.
 Quickly Carton exchanged clothes with the unconscious man, combed back his hair and tied it with the prisoners ribbon. Then he called softly: Come in" and the spy entered timidly.
 You seer" said Carton. Get assis- tance and have this Englishman taken to the coach that waits below" You swear not to betray me?" asked the spy.
 Man, man." replied Carton, "have no fear. I shall soon be out of the way of harming you. Take him yourself to the courtyard you know of. place him yourself in the carriage, show him fa Mr. tall self to give him no restorative but air and to remember my words of last night and to drive away"
 The spy withdrew, to return again immedia tely with two men, who lifted the unconscious figure and carried it away laughing: The English man seems afflicted to find that his friend has drawn a prize in the lottery of Saint Guillotinew
 Left alone, Sydney Carton waited for the hour of his death to strike. Soon doors began to clang. Presently his own was torn open and a jailer looked in with Follow me, EvermondeI'
 He was led into a large room and stood there while one after another of his fellow victims came in. Suddenly a young woman stepped up to him, touched him with her cold, little hand. and said: Citizen Evermonde, I am a
  La Force."
 She lifted her widely opened, patient eyes to his face. He saw sudden doubt in tn em, then astonishment He pressed the worn young fingers and touched his lips.
 Are you dying for him?" she whis- pered.
 And his wife and child. Hushl Yesw
 
 hand, stranger"
 "Hushl Yes, my poor sister. to the last"
 The same shadows of the passing day that are falling on these two are falling on the barrier with crowd around 1t when a coach comes up to be examined. .
 Papers. Whom have we here? Dr. Manette?"
 This is he" said MT. Lorry.
 And Luc,e, his daughter? And Luz cie, her child? These are they, eh. Ev- ermonde has an assignment elsewhere. And Sydney Carton. advocate, English. Apparently he is in a swoon?"
 "Yes," answers MT. Lorry. "He is not in good health, but it is hoped tho fresh air will do him good"
 Pass then, citizen. Behold your pa- pers countersigned."
 The W1n0 TuSneS dIleT lHcIIi, tHo clouds fly after them, the shadows pur- sue, but so far they are pursued by nothing else.
 The night comes on. The figure of the English advocate moves. He Is be- ginning to revive. He asks what is this that another has in his hand. Look behind us Look! Thank heav- en. there Is no pursuit.
 While the coach rumb1es toward ths coast the tumbrils rumble through Par Is. The horsemen surrounding them frequently point out one man with their swords. The leading curiosity is to know which is he. He stands at the back of one of the tumbrils speak ing with slight young girl who sits on the side of the cart holding his hand.
 Swiftly the tumbrils discharge their loads at the foot of the guillotine Tn front of 1t sit number of women busily knitting.
 Crash A head is hold up. The peo- pie count One.
 The second tumbril empties and moves on. The supposed Evermonde descends and the seamstress is lifted out next after him. He gently places her with her back to the crashing en- zine that constantly whirs up and falls and she thanks him.
 Keep your eye on me. dear child," says Sydney Carton, "and mind no oth- CT object"
 'I mind nothing while I hold your hand. I shall mind nothing when let