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1The Jackal Those were drinking days, and most men drank hard. So very great is the improvement Time has brought about in
2such habits, that a moderate statement of the quantity of wine and punch which one man would swallow in the course of a
3night, without any detriment to his reputation as a perfect gentleman, would seem, in these days, a ridiculous
4exaggeration. The learned profession of the law was certainly not behind any other learned profession in its
5Bacchanalian propensities; neither was Mr. Stryver, already fast shouldering his way to a large and lucrative practice,
6behind his compeers in this particular, any more than in the drier parts of the legal race. A favourite at the Old
7Bailey, and eke at the Sessions, Mr. Stryver had begun cautiously to hew away the lower staves of the ladder on which he
8mounted. Sessions and Old Bailey had now to summon their favourite, specially, to their longing arms; and shouldering
9itself towards the visage of the Lord Chief Justice in the Court of King's Bench, the florid countenance of Mr. Stryver
10might be daily seen, bursting out of the bed of wigs, like a great sunflower pushing its way at the sun from among a
11rank garden-full of flaring companions. It had once been noted at the Bar, that while Mr. Stryver was a glib man, and an
12unscrupulous, and a ready, and a bold, he had not that faculty of extracting the essence from a heap of statements,
13which is among the most striking and necessary of the advocate's accomplishments. But, a remarkable improvement came
14upon him as to this. The more business he got, the greater his power seemed to grow of getting at its pith and marrow;
15and however late at night he sat carousing with Sydney Carton, he always had his points at his fingers' ends in the
16morning. Sydney Carton, idlest and most unpromising of men, was Stryver's great ally. What the two drank together,
17between Hilary Term and Michaelmas, might have floated a king's ship. Stryver never had a case in hand, anywhere, but
18Carton was there, with his hands in his pockets, staring at the ceiling of the court; they went the same Circuit, and
19even there they prolonged their usual orgies late into the night, and Carton was rumoured to be seen at broad day, going
20home stealthily and unsteadily to his lodgings, like a dissipated cat. At last, it began to get about, among such as
21were interested in the matter, that although Sydney Carton would never be a lion, he was an amazingly good jackal, and
22that he rendered suit and service to Stryver in that humble capacity. "Ten o'clock, sir," said the man at the tavern,
23whom he had charged to wake him--"ten o'clock, sir." "What's the matter?" "Ten o'clock, sir." "What do you mean? Ten
24o'clock at night?" "Yes, sir. Your honour told me to call you." "Oh! I remember. Very well, very well." After a few dull
25efforts to get to sleep again, which the man dexterously combated by stirring the fire continuously for five minutes, he
26got up, tossed his hat on, and walked out. He turned into the Temple, and, having revived himself by twice pacing the
27pavements of King's Bench-walk and Paper-buildings, turned into the Stryver chambers. The Stryver clerk, who never
28assisted at these conferences, had gone home, and the Stryver principal opened the door. He had his slippers on, and a
29loose bed-gown, and his throat was bare for his greater ease. He had that rather wild, strained, seared marking about
30the eyes, which may be observed in all free livers of his class, from the portrait of Jeffries downward, and which can
31be traced, under various disguises of Art, through the portraits of every Drinking Age. "You are a little late, Memory,"
32said Stryver. "About the usual time; it may be a quarter of an hour later." They went into a dingy room lined with books
33and littered with papers, where there was a blazing fire. A kettle steamed upon the hob, and in the midst of the wreck
34of papers a table shone, with plenty of wine upon it, and brandy, and rum, and sugar, and lemons. "You have had your
35bottle, I perceive, Sydney." "Two to-night, I think. I have been dining with the day's client; or seeing him dine--it's
36all one!" "That was a rare point, Sydney, that you brought to bear upon the identification. How did you come by it? When
37did it strike you?" "I thought he was rather a handsome fellow, and I thought I should have been much the same sort of
38fellow, if I had had any luck." Mr. Stryver laughed till he shook his precocious paunch. "You and your luck, Sydney! Get
39to work, get to work." Sullenly enough, the jackal loosened his dress, went into an adjoining room, and came back with a
40large jug of cold water, a basin, and a towel or two. Steeping the towels in the water, and partially wringing them out,
41he folded them on his head in a manner hideous to behold, sat down at the table, and said, "Now I am ready!" "Not much
42boiling down to be done to-night, Memory," said Mr. Stryver, gaily, as he looked among his papers. "How much?" "Only two
43sets of them." "Give me the worst first." "There they are, Sydney. Fire away!" The lion then composed himself on his
44back on a sofa on one side of the drinking-table, while the jackal sat at his own paper-bestrewn table proper, on the
45other side of it, with the bottles and glasses ready to his hand. Both resorted to the drinking-table without stint, but
46each in a different way; the lion for the most part reclining with his hands in his waistband, looking at the fire, or
47occasionally flirting with some lighter document; the jackal, with knitted brows and intent face, so deep in his task,
48that his eyes did not even follow the hand he stretched out for his glass--which often groped about, for a minute or
49more, before it found the glass for his lips. Two or three times, the matter in hand became so knotty, that the jackal
50found it imperative on him to get up, and steep his towels anew. From these pilgrimages to the jug and basin, he
51returned with such eccentricities of damp headgear as no words can describe; which were made the more ludicrous by his
52anxious gravity. At length the jackal had got together a compact repast for the lion, and proceeded to offer it to him.
53The lion took it with care and caution, made his selections from it, and his remarks upon it, and the jackal assisted
54both. When the repast was fully discussed, the lion put his hands in his waistband again, and lay down to meditate. The
55jackal then invigorated himself with a bumper for his throttle, and a fresh application to his head, and applied himself
56to the collection of a second meal; this was administered to the lion in the same manner, and was not disposed of until
57the clocks struck three in the morning. "And now we have done, Sydney, fill a bumper of punch," said Mr. Stryver. The
58jackal removed the towels from his head, which had been steaming again, shook himself, yawned, shivered, and complied.
59"You were very sound, Sydney, in the matter of those crown witnesses to-day. Every question told." "I always am sound;
60am I not?" "I don't gainsay it. What has roughened your temper? Put some punch to it and smooth it again." With a
61deprecatory grunt, the jackal again complied. "The old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School," said Stryver, nodding
62his head over him as he reviewed him in the present and the past, "the old seesaw Sydney. Up one minute and down the
63next; now in spirits and now in despondency!" "Ah!" returned the other, sighing: "yes! The same Sydney, with the same
64luck. Even then, I did exercises for other boys, and seldom did my own." "And why not?" "God knows. It was my way, I
65suppose." He sat, with his hands in his pockets and his legs stretched out before him, looking at the fire. "Carton,"
66said his friend, squaring himself at him with a bullying air, as if the fire-grate had been the furnace in which
67sustained endeavour was forged, and the one delicate thing to be done for the old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School
68was to shoulder him into it, "your way is, and always was, a lame way. You summon no energy and purpose. Look at me."
69"Oh, botheration!" returned Sydney, with a lighter and more good-humoured laugh, "don't you be moral!" "How have I done
70what I have done?" said Stryver; "how do I do what I do?"
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