Caricature - Jaggers has a Visitor

Mr. Jaggers was so kind as to invite me and my "gang" to supper at his place of residence once more later that week. I expected that he wished to talk some more to Drummle, in whom he had taken an unexpected fancy. We were just helping ourselves to a fresh, leafy salad, and the two of them were already immersed in deep conversation, when we heard some thunder and then a loud knock on the door. My gaurdian swore and bit the side of his finger with unusual vigour. Sitting at the table in deep suspence, I twisted my imagination into a thousand loops and tangles, wondering who would have the courage to show up at Jaggers' place so late at night.

Sitting in the dining hall, we could hear Jaggers stalk over to the door with a snarl and pull ferociously at the handle. Then the unexpected happened. We heard a high-pitched squeal of fear, a great thud, and then a strange man entered the room. He had a dull gleam in his eyes, that displayed a great distrust in whomever who was so unfortunate as to fall into his field of vision. All of a sudden, in a familiar flourish, he raised his hand and bit the side of his finger. Before we could so much as open our mouths in surprise, we heard some scrambling footsteps and Jaggers entered the room, deathly pale and noticably disturbed. Impossible. He had just fainted!

This unusual appearance of my guardian sent shivers down my spine. Who could this stranger be to intimidate one whom it seemed impossible to scare and who could make a prisoner at the bar tremble worse than he would should he be front of the devil himself?

The stranger turned around and looked at Jaggers, who shrank away in terror, rubbing his shoulders against the wall behind him. I imagined his customers backing off in his office and greasing up the wall there. The man spoke in a deep, lashing voice:

"Now my son, I hear you have been given a job to do. It seems you have been charged as the guardian of a certain boy who has acquired a great fortune."

Hearing this I could feel the blood drain from my face. Was this man, who claimed to be Jaggers' father, going to take away my money, my hopes of becoming a gentleman, of achieving anything in life? My rage overcame my fear and I spoke out:

"What do you want with me, sir? If it is your intention to take what is not meant to be yours, then pray leave us as I am sure we could do very well without your company."

The stranger let out a snarl but Jaggers was agile. He leapt across the room and grabbed me by the scurf of the neck, raising me from my chair, dragged me to the door, flinging me outside, and then locking it behind him. And so it came to be known from then on that the fearful lawyer Jaggers had come to lock his door each night and no one knew why.

Ilana Tavshunsky