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At length the sun rose so high that it struck a kindly ray as of

hope or protection, directly down upon the old prisoner's head.

The favour was too much to bear; in an instant the barrier of

dust and chaff that had stood surprisingly long, went to the

winds, and Saint Antoine had got him!

It was known directly, to the furthest confines of the crowd.

Defarge had but sprung over a railing and a table, and folded the

miserable wretch in a deadly embrace--Madame Defarge had but

followed and turned her hand in one of the ropes with which he

was tied--The Vengeance and Jacques Three were not yet up with

them, and the men at the windows had not yet swooped into the

Hall, like birds of prey from their high perches--when the cry

seemed to go up, all over the city, "Bring him out! Bring him to

the lamp!"