`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 complied.

`You were very sound, Sydney, in the matter of those crown witnesses to-day. Every question told.'

`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 complied.

`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.'