A TALE OF TWO CITIES

A Story of the French Revolution

By Charles Dickens

Contents

Book One: Brought Back to Life

1. The Time
2. The Mail Coach
3. Shadows at Night
4. Getting Ready
5. The Wine Shop
6. The Shoemaker

Book Two: The Golden Thread

1. Five Years Later
2. A Sight
3. A Sad Surprise
4. Happy Wishes
5. The Jackal
6. Many People
7. A Rich Man in Town
8. A Rich Man in the Country
9. The Stone Head
10. Two Promises
11. A Matching Picture
12. The Careful Man
13. The Careless Man
14. The Honest Worker
15. Knitting
16. Still Knitting
17. One Night
18. Nine Days
19. An Opinion
20. A Request
21. Footsteps Echo
22. The Sea Still Rises
23. Fire Rises
24. Pulled to the Rock

Book Three: The Path of a Storm

1. In Secret
2. The Grindstone
3. The Shadow
4. Calm in the Storm
5. The Wood Cutter
6. Winning
7. A Knock at the Door
8. A Card Game
9. The Game Is Won
10. What the Shadow Meant
11. Evening
12. Darkness
13. Fifty-Two
14. The Knitting Is Done
15. The Footsteps Stop Forever

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Book One: Brought Back to Life

Chapter 1: The Time

It was a good time. It was a bad time too.

People were wise. People were foolish.

Some people had faith. Some did not.

There was light. There was darkness.

There was hope. There was sadness too.

We had everything we wanted. We also had nothing.

Some thought we were going to a good place. Others thought we were not.

This time was a lot like today. People always think their own time is the best or the worst.

A king and queen ruled England. A king and queen ruled France too.

Everyone thought things would stay the same forever. They were wrong.

The year was 1775.

In England, some people said they could talk to spirits. Many people believed strange things.

Messages had come from America too. These messages would matter more than anyone knew.

In France, things were not going well. The country was spending too much money.

France was also very unfair. A young man was hurt badly just for not bowing to some monks walking by.

Trees were already growing in the forests. One day, those trees would be cut down. They would be used to build a terrible machine. This machine would be used in the years ahead.

Farm carts sat in barns near Paris. One day, those same carts would carry people to their deaths. But no one knew this yet. It was too soon to tell.

In England, things were not calm either. Robbers stole from houses at night. People had to hide their nice things.

Highwaymen robbed the mail coaches too. Guards and robbers often shot each other.

Prisoners fought with their guards. Thieves stole jewels from rich people.

The law was very harsh. People were hanged for small crimes, like stealing a little money.

All these things happened in the year 1775. Big and small people lived through it. This is where our story begins.

Chapter 2: The Mail Coach

It was a Friday night in November. The Dover mail coach moved slowly up Shooter's Hill.

The road was muddy. The hill was steep.

A man walked beside the coach. Other passengers walked too. It was easier than riding, since the horses were struggling.

The horses were tired. They had stopped three times already.

The horses shook their heads. They seemed to say, "We cannot make it up this hill!"

But the driver was patient. The horses kept going.

Thick, cold mist covered everything. It crept along like a ghost looking for rest.

The mist was so thick, you could barely see the road. The lamps on the coach barely helped.

Three passengers walked near the coach. They were wrapped up warmly against the cold.

No one could see who the others were. Everyone was hiding under thick coats and scarves.

In those days, people did not trust strangers on the road. Robbers could be anywhere—even pretending to be someone else.

The guard on the coach watched carefully. He kept his hand near his guns, just in case.

Everyone was suspicious of everyone else. The guard didn't trust the passengers. The passengers didn't trust the guard. No one trusted the muddy road either.

Only the driver felt sure of one thing: his horses were not very good for this hard trip.

"Almost to the top!" called the driver. "Joe! What time is it?"

"Ten past eleven," said Joe, the guard.

"Still not at the top!" said the driver. He was getting worried. "Come on, horses! Get moving!"

The driver cracked his whip. The horses pulled hard.

The coach moved forward again. The three passengers walked close beside it, their boots splashing in the mud.