Escape with the Dream Maker Read Online Free PDF Page A

frilly shirt collar, and he appeared not to hear those who were yelling at him from the streets.
    Josh found himself jostled by the people who were accompanying the cart. Most of them were wearing baggy trousers, and many of them had rags tied around their heads. They were speaking French, and Josh discovered that he could speak French as well.
    Somebody nudged him, “Who is that in there?”
    Josh said at once, “Sydney Carton.”
    â€œNo, that ain’t his name. It’s something else,” the Frenchman said.
    Josh edged closer to the cart.
    The condemned man looked at him and smiled.
    Josh said in French, “Can I get you away? I’ll help you make your escape.”
    â€œNo, my boy. That’s a kind thought. You’re not one of these, even though you’re dressed like them.”
    Josh looked down to see that he himself was wearing baggy breeches. He saw that his hands were tanned very brown. Still he was Josh Adams—but somehow on the way to the scaffold with Sydney Carton!
    It was all just like in the book! The death carts rumbled along the Paris streets. Ridges of faces looked upward as they plowed through the crowds. A guard of horsemen rode abreast of the procession. The crowd made way for them, then came closer to stare at the condemned people who huddled in the wagons.
    Josh stumbled along, noting that Sidney Carton was holding the hand of a frightened young woman,perhaps trying to give her courage. A smile was on his face, and he seemed to have no thought at all for the scene about him.
    The clocks of the city began to strike three, and then the carts were in front of the guillotine. Before it, seated in chairs, were a number of women, busily knitting. They had come to see the “entertainment,” Josh knew, and he despised them!
    And then Carton descended from the cart, still holding the hand of the young woman.
    Josh heard her say, “But for you, dear stranger, I should not be so composed, for I am naturally a poor little thing, faint of heart; nor should I have been able to raise my thought to Him who was put to death, that we might have hope and comfort here today. I think you were sent to me by heaven.”
    â€œKeep your eyes on me, dear child . . .” Sidney Carton said.
    â€œI mind nothing while I hold your hand.”
    â€œThey will be rapid. Fear not!”
    Josh listened as the two spoke quietly, and then the girl asked Carton if he thought she would feel grief in heaven, and if she would miss her dear sister whom she must leave.
    â€œIt cannot be, my child; there is no Time there, and no trouble there.”
    Finally the time of execution came, and Sydney Carton looked out at the crowd, saying, “It is a far, far better thing that I do now than I have ever done. It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”
    Josh could not bear to see the man die. He turned away and shoved his way through the crowd, but he heard the blade strike the block, and a wild cry went up from the crowd that marked the death of a brave man.
    â€œAll right, Josh. Come out of it.”
    Josh suddenly blinked his eyes, startled. He looked around. There was no death cart, no guillotine, no Sydney Carton—he was back in Oliver’s room. Oliver had taken the headpiece and was grinning at him. “Well, now you know what innervision does. How do you like it?”
    Josh rubbed his temples. He could still feel the imprint of the headpiece, and it seemed his head was humming a little. He felt sleepy and oddly relaxed.
    â€œWhy—it’s marvelous!” he said.
    â€œActually, it’s just another form of entertainment. Does make you feel relaxed though, doesn’t it?”
    Josh discovered that this was indeed true. He felt more relaxed than he had felt in weeks. “It does!” he exclaimed with surprise. “Why, I’ve never seen anything like it!”
    â€œI guess that’s all I need to hear, as