"Darnay," he said, "I bring you a request from your wife."
"What is it?"
"There is no time--you must comply. Take off your boots and coat, and put on mine."
"Carton, there is no escaping from this place. It is madness."
"Do I ask you to escape?" said Carton, forcing the changes upon him.
"Now sit at the table and write what I dictate."
"To whom do I address it?"
"To no one."
"If you remember," said Carton, dictating, "the words that passed between us long ago, you will comprehend this when you see it. I am thankful that the time has come when I can prove them." Carton's hand was withdrawn from his breast, and slowly and softly moved down the writer's face. For a few seconds Darnay struggled faintly, Carton's hand held firmly at his nostrils; then he fell senseless to the ground.
Carton called quietly to the turnkey, who looked in and went again as Carton was putting the paper in Darnay's breast. He came back with two men. They raised the unconscious figure and carried it away.