Barsad leaned back in his chair, and stammered, `What do you mean?'
`I mean,' said Mr. Cruncher, `that he warn't never in it. No! Not he! I'll have my head took off, if he was ever in it.'
The spy looked round at the two gentlemen; they both looked in unspeakable astonishment at Jerry.
`I tell you,' said Jerry, `that you buried paving-stones and earth in that there coffin. Don't go and tell me that you buried Cly. It was a take in. Me and two more knows it.'
`What's that to you? Ecod!' growled Mr. Cruncher, `it's you I have got a old grudge again, is it, with your shameful impositions upon tradesmen! I'd catch hold of your throat and choke you for half a guinea.'
Sydney Carton, who, with Mr. Lorry, had been lost in amazement at this turn of the business, here requested Mr. Cruncher to moderate and explain himself.
`At another time, sir,' he returned, evasively, `the present time is ill-conwenient for explainin'. What I stand to, is, that he knows well wot that there Cly was never in that there coffin. Let him say lie was, in so much as a word of one syllable, and I'll either catch hold of his throat and choke him for half a guinea;' Mr. Cruncher dwelt upon this as quite a liberal offer; `or I'll out and announce him.'
`Humph! I see one thing,' said Carton. `I hold another card, Mr. Barsad. Impossible, here in raging Paris, with Suspicion filling the air, for you to outlive denunciation, when you are in communication with another aristocratic spy of the same antecedents as yourself who, moreover, has the mystery about him of having feigned death and come to life again! A plot in the prisons, of the foreigner against the Republic. A strong card--a certain Guillotine card! Do you play?'