双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第22部分

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Sydney　Carton；　idlest　and　most　unpromising　of　men；　was　Stryver's　great　ally。　What　the　two　drank　together；　between　Hilary　Term　and　Michaelmas；　might　have　floated　a　king's　ship。　Stryver　never　had　a　case　in　hand；　anywhere；　but　Carton　was　there；　with　his　hands　in　his　pockets；　staring　at　the　ceiling　of　the　court；　they　went　the　same　Circuit；　and　even　there　they　prolonged　their　usual　orgies　late　into　the　night；　and　Carton　was　rumoured　to　be　seen　at　broad　day；　going　home　stealthily　and　unsteadily　to　his　lodgings；　like　a　dissipated　cat。　At　last；　it　began　to　get　about；　among　such　as　were　interested　in　the　matter；　that　although　Sydney　Carton　would　never　be　a　lion；　he　was　an　amazingly　good　jackal；　and　that　he　rendered　suit　and　service　to　Stryver　in　that　humble　capacity。
‘Ten　o'clock；　sir；'　said　the　man　at　the　tavern；　whom　he　had　charged　to　wake　him……'ten　o'clock；　sir。'
‘What's　the　matter？'
‘Ten　o'clock；　sir。'
‘What　do　you　mean？　Ten　o'clock　at　night？'
‘Yes；　sir。　Your　honour　told　me　to　call　you。'
‘Oh！　I　remember。　Very　well；　very　well。'
After　a　few　dull　efforts　to　get　to　sleep　again；　which　the　man　dexterously　bated　by　stirring　the　fire　continuously　for　five　minutes；　he　got　up；　tossed　his　hat　on；　and　walked　out。　He　turned　into　the　Temple；　and；　having　revived　himself　by　twice　pacing　the　pavements　of　King's　Bench…walk　and　Paper…buildings；　turned　into　the　Stryver　chambers。
The　Stryver　clerk；　who　never　assisted　at　these　conferences；　had　gone　home；　and　the　Stryver　principal　opened　the　door。　He　had　his　slippers　on；　and　a　loose　bed…gown；　and　his　throat　was　bare　for　his　greater　ease。　He　had　that　rather　wild；　strained；　seared　marking　about　the　eyes；　which　may　be　observed　in　all　free　livers　of　his　class；　from　the　portrait　of　Jeffries　downward；　and　which　can　be　traced；　under　various　disguises　of　Art；　through　the　portraits　of　every　Drinking　Age。
‘You　are　a　little　late；　Memory；'　said　Stryver。
‘About　the　usual　time；　it　may　be　a　quarter　of　an　hour　later。'
They　went　into　a　dingy　room　lined　with　books　and　littered　with　papers；　where　there　was　a　blazing　fire。　A　kettle　steamed　upon　the　hob；　and　in　the　midst　of　the　wreck　of　papers　a　table　shone；　with　plenty　of　wine　upon　it；　and　brandy；　and　rum；　and　sugar；　and　lemons。
‘You　have　had　your　bottle；　I　perceive；　Sydney。'
‘Two　to…night；　I　think。　I　have　been　dining　with　the　day's　client；　or　seeing　him　dine……it's　all　one！'
‘That　was　a　rare　point；　Sydney；　that　you　brought　to　bear　upon　the　identification。　How　did　you　e　by　it？　When　did　it　strike　you？'
‘I　thought　he　was　rather　a　handsome　fellow；　and　I　thought　I　should　have　been　much　the　same　sort　of　fellow；　if　I　had　had　any　luck。'
Mr。　Stryver　laughed　till　he　shook　his　precocious　paunch。
‘You　and　your　luck；　Sydney！　Get　to　work；　get　to　work。'　Sullenly　enough；　the　jackal　loosened　his　dress；　went　into　an　adjoining　room；　and　came　back　with　a　large　jug　of　cold　water；　a　basin；　and　a　towel　or　two。　Steeping　the　towels　in　the　water；　and　partially　wringing　them　out；　he　folded　them　on　his　head　in　a　manner　hideous　to　behold；　sat　down　at　the　table；　and　said；　‘Now　I　am　ready！'
‘Not　much　boiling　down　to　be　done　to…night；　Memory；'　said　Mr。　Stryver；　gaily；　as　he　looked　among　his　papers。
‘How　much？'
‘Only　two　sets　of　them。'
‘Give　me　the　worst　first。'
‘There　they　are；　Sydney。　Fire　away！'
The　lion　then　posed　himself　on　his　back　on　a　sofa　on　one　side　of　the　drinking…table；　while　the　jackal　sat　at　his　own　Paper　bestrewn　table　proper；　on　the　other　side　of　it；　with　the　bottles　and　glasses　ready　to　his　hand。　Both　resorted　to　the　drinking…table　without　stint；　but　each　in　a　different　way；　the　lion　for　the　most　part　reclining　with　his　hands　in　his　waistband；　looking　at　the　fire；　or　occasionally　flirting　with　some　lighter　document；　the　jackal；　with　knitted　brows　and　intent　face；　so　deep　in　his　task；　that　his　eyes　did　not　even　follow　the　hand　he　stretched　out　for　his　glass……which　often　groped　about；　for　a　minute　or　more；　before　it　found　the　glass　for　his　lips。　Two　or　three　times；　the　matter　in　hand　became　so　knotty；　that　the　jackal　found　it　imperative　on　him　to　get　up；　and　steep　his　towels　anew。　From　these　pilgrimages　to　the　jug　and　basin；　he　returned　with　such　eccentricities　of　damp　headgear　as　no　words　can　describe；　which　were　made　the　more　ludicrous　by　his　anxious　gravity。
At　length　the　jackal　had　got　together　a　pact　repast　for　the　lion；　and　proceeded　to　offer　it　to　him。　The　lion　took　it　with　care　and　caution；　made　his　selections　from　it；　and　his　remarks　upon　it；　and　the　jackal　assisted　both。　When　the　repast　was　fully　discussed；　the　lion　put　his　hands　in　his　waistband　again；　and　lay　down　to　meditate。　The　jackal　then　invigorated　himself　with　a　bumper　for　his　throttle；　and　a　fresh　application　to　his　head；　and　applied　himself　to　the　collection　of　a　second　meal；　this　was　administered　to　the　lion　in　the　same　manner；　and　was　not　disposed　of　until　the　clocks　struck　three　in　the　morning。
‘And　now　we　have　done；　Sydney；　fill　a　bumper　of　punch；'　said　Mr。　Stryver。
The　jackal　removed　the　towels　from　his　head；　which　had　been　steaming　again；　shook　himself；　yawned；　shivered；　and　plied。
‘You　were　very　sound；　Sydney；　in　the　matter　of　those　crown　witnesses　to…day。　Every　question　told。'
‘I　always　am　sound；　am　I　not？'
‘I　don't　gainsay　it。　What　has　roughen'ed　your　temper？　Put　some　punch　to　it　and　smooth　it　again。
With　a　deprecatory　grunt；　the　jackal　again　plied。
‘The　old　Sydney　Carton　of　old　Shrewsbury　School；'　said　Stryver；　nodding　his　head　over　him　as　he　reviewed　him　in　the　present　and　the　past；　‘the　old　seesaw　Sydney。　Up　one　minute　and　down　the　next；　now　in　spirits　and　now　in　despondency！'
‘Ah！'　returned　the　other；　sighing：　‘yes！　The　same　Sydney；　with　the　same　luck。　Even　then；　I　did　exercises　for　other　boys；　and　seldom　did　my　own。'
‘And　why　not？'　‘God　knows。　It　was　my　way；　I　suppose。'
He　sat；　with　his　hands　in　his　pockets　and　his　legs　stretched　out　before　him；　looking　at　the　fire。
‘Carton；'　said　his　friend；　squaring　himself　at　him　with　a　bullying　air；　as　if　the　fire…grate　had　been　the　furnace　in　which　sustained　endeavour　was　forged；　and　the　one　delicate　thing　to　be　done　for　the　old　Sydney　Carton　of　old　Shrewsbury　School　was　to　shoulder　him　into　it；　‘your　way　is；　and　always　was；　a　lame　way。　You　summon　no　energy　and　purpose。　Look　at　me。
‘Oh；　botheration！'　returned　Sydney；　with　a　lighter　and　more　good…humoured　laugh；　‘don't　*you　be　moral！'
‘How　have　I　done　what　I　have　done？'　said　Stryver；　‘how　do　I　do　what　I　do？'
‘Partly　through　paying　me　to　help　you；　I　suppose。　But　it's　not　worth　your　while　to　apostrophise　me；　or　the　air；　about　it；　what　you　want　to　do；　you　do。　You　were　always　in　the　front　rank；　and　I　was　always　behind。'
‘I　had　to　get　into　the　front　rank；　I　was　not　born　there；　was　I？'
‘I　was　not　present　at　the　ceremony；　but　my　opinion　is　you　were；'　said　Carton。　At　this；　he　laughed　again；　and　they　both　laughed。
‘Before　Shrewsbury；　and　at　Shrewsbury；　and　ever　since　Shrewsbury；'　pursued　Carton；　‘you　have　fallen　into　your　rank；　and　I　have　fallen　into　mine。　Even　when　we　were　fellow　students　in　the　Student…Quarter　of　Paris；　picking　up　French；　and　French　law；　and　other　French　crumbs　that　we　didn't　get　much　good　of；　you　were　always　somewhere；　and　I　was　always……nowhere。'
‘And　whose　fault　was　that？'
‘Upon　my　soul；　I　am　not　sure　that　it　was　not　yours。　You　were　always　driving　and　riving　and　shouldering　and　pressing；　to　that　restless　degree　that　I　had　no　chance　for　my　life　but　in　rust　and　repose。　It's　a　gloomy　thing；　however；　to　talk　about　one's　Own　past；　with　the　day　breaking。　Turn　me　in　some　other　direction　before　I　go。'
‘Well　then！　Pledge　me　to　the　pretty　witness；'　said　Stryver；　holding　up　his　glass。　‘Are　you　turned　in　a　pleasant　direction？'
Apparently　not；　for　he　became　gloomy　again。
‘Pretty　witness；'　he　muttered；　looking　down　into　his　glass。　‘I　have　had　enough　of　witnesses　to…day　and　to…night；　who's　your　pretty　witness？'
‘The　picturesque　doctor's　daughter；　Miss　Manette。'
‘She　pretty？'
‘Is　she　not？'
‘No。'
‘Why；　man　alive；　she　was　the　admiration　of　the　whole　Court！'
‘Rot　the　admiration　of　the　whole　Court！　Who　made　the　Old　Bailey　a　judge　of　beauty？　She　was　a　golden…haired　doll！'
‘Do　you　know；　Sydney；'　said　Mr。　Stryver；　looking　at　him　with　sharp　eyes；　and　slowly　drawing　a　hand　across　his　flor