I had heard that a letter had been given to Mr. Lorry, but my heart lurched when I discovered who it was for, me, but it was not addressed in my current name. Nobody in England knows that I was indeed a member of the Evrémonde family. I did everything I could to convince Mr. Lorry that he was to old to go on the trip to Paris, to find a person he already knew, but didn’t know it. I eventually managed to convince Mr. Lorry that I was an acquaintance of Evrémonde, and that the letter would be safe with me. After a conversation, Mr. Lorry folded and handed me the letter. When I was able to read it, I opened it. The letter was from Gabelle. I read further and discovered that he had been imprisoned, and that he was begging the new marquis, which is me, for help. I debated inside the pro’s and con’s of helping. I finally decided that I should go to help. When I arrived, I was arrested and imprisoned for leaving France. That means that I was unable to help Gabelle, leaving me wondering just what form of insane logic I used to talk myself into going back to France.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Disgust with my family
My own family disgusts me. The way we treated peasants saddens me. I had to change my name or else I feared that someone may recognize it, and expose me for the nobility that I wish to reject. I didn’t ask to be born into the supposed nobility that for some reason separates my family from any other. When I met my uncle again, I realized just how much I despised the way of like that we lead. I tried everything I could to improve conditions for those who live on our land, but they still hated me. So that’s when I changed my name, and moved to England. I still traveled to Paris from time to time even though I cannot anymore, to see my homeland. But that’s how I came to stand trial for treason. Had I never left France because of my family, it never would have happened, nor would I have married Lucie, and had a beautiful daughter, Lucie. But none of that matters now, after doing everything I could to make life better for the peasants who live on the land that used to be mine, they still sentenced me to death after a horribly unfair trial. That all happened because of my family, and I hate them for it.
Charged with treason
Somehow I have been charged with treason by the British government. I supposedly have a paper detailing secret British military information, namely that the British are going to send troops to fight in the American colonies, and have been giving this information to the king of France! The allegations make no sense whatsoever. Thankfully, my excellent lawyer, Mr. Stryver managed to crush the first two witnesses who are actually criminals themselves. The first man spent time in prison, and the other was just plain untrustworthy. When Mr. Lorry testified, he claimed that he wasn’t able to tell if I was with him on the Dover mail coach. Next, the young woman Lucie Manette testified that she indeed saw me on the ship from France to England, where I helped her sick father. However, she almost cost me my freedom when she mentioned my comments about George Washington. Her father was called to testify, but he claimed he wasn’t able to due to his illness. I had all but given up when my lawyers young assistant handed a not to my lawyer. He had noticed that we looked shockingly similar, and that was what won my case. I will forever be in debt to him.
Picture from Flickr
Saved my life
When I was arrested again, I feared I was not going to be so lucky. I was railroaded into the trial that, obviously, was completely one sided. With the three Jacques as judges, and Madam Defarge controlling them, I figured that there was no chance for me to be free, and I was right. I was found guilty and sentenced to death. I sat waiting in my cold cell, hearing only the haunted voices of other prisoners, and the chiming of a bell. With nothing to do but sit and wait, I reflected on my past life, knowing that it didn’t have much time. Sooner or later I knew that the time would come for the guard to lead me out into the courtyard to the guillotine. But rather than a guard coming to my cell, it was John Basard with a Sydney Carton. He drugged me, and gods bless his heart, switched places with me. He once told Lucie that he would to anything he could do to help her. Now, I don’t believe that he actually would have done anything to help me live to keep my wife and child safe, but he made the ultimate sacrifice and switched places with me. Neither of us could watch the execution, but we will never forget his sacrifice.