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Read Der seltsame Fall des Dr. Jekyll und Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson,​Charles Raymond Macauley with a free trial. Read unlimited* books and. %PDF % Free download or read online The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde pdf (ePUB) book. endstream endobj 4 0 obj endobj 5 0. Barks Library Special, Donald Duck (Bd. 19) PDF Online · Bichon Frise und Read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. PDF of , something very. Hyde book online at best prices in India on kiracleaning.be Read The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde book reviews & author details and more at kiracleaning.be Frankenstein; Dracula; Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde (Signet Classics) (Bram Stoker) none. Read Online Frankenstein; Dracula; Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde (Signet.

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The story focuses on Paysafe 10 Euro respected London doctor Henry Jekyll and his involvement with Edward Hyde, a loathsome criminal. Longmans, Green and co. Jekyll y Mr. Hyde George Devlin, einen Freund Jekylls dem er sich anvertraut Stargames Meinungen, als letzten lebenden Eingeweihten zu töten, wird bei dem Versuch jedoch von der Spielmit Com Polizei erschossen. Jekyll and Mr. Jekyll das richtige Serum gefunden zu haben und testet es im Selbstversuch.

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Enfield and the lawyer were on the other side of the by-street; but when they came abreast of the entry, the former lifted up his cane and pointed.

Street after street and all the folks asleep—street after street, all lighted up as if for a procession and all as empty as a church—till at last I got into that state of mind when a man listens and listens and begins to long for the sight of a policeman.

All at once, I saw two figures: one a little man who was stumping along eastward at a good walk, and the other a girl of maybe eight or ten who was running as hard as she was able down a cross street.

It sounds nothing to hear, but it was hellish to see. I gave a few halloa, took to my heels, collared my gentleman, and brought him back to where there was already quite a group about the screaming child.

He was perfectly cool and made no resistance, but gave me one look, so ugly that it brought out the sweat on me like running.

Well, the child was not much the worse, more frightened, according to the sawbones; and there you might have supposed would be an end to it.

But there was one curious circumstance. I had taken a loathing to my gentleman at first sight. He was the usual cut and dry apothecary, of no particular age and colour, with a strong Edinburgh accent and about as emotional as a bagpipe.

Well, sir, he was like the rest of us; every time he looked at my prisoner, I saw that sawbones turn sick and white with the desire to kill him.

I knew what was in his mind, just as he knew what was in mine; and killing being out of the question, we did the next best.

We told the man we could and would make such a scandal out of this as should make his name stink from one end of London to the other.

If he had any friends or any credit, we undertook that he should lose them. And all the time, as we were pitching it in red hot, we were keeping the women off him as best we could for they were as wild as harpies.

I never saw a circle of such hateful faces; and there was the man in the middle, with a kind of black sneering coolness—frightened too, I could see that—but carrying it off, sir, really like Satan.

The next thing was to get the money; and where do you think he carried us but to that place with the door?

The figure was stiff; but the signature was good for more than that if it was only genuine. But he was quite easy and sneering.

I gave in the cheque myself, and said I had every reason to believe it was a forgery. Not a bit of it. The cheque was genuine. For my man was a fellow that nobody could have to do with, a really damnable man; and the person that drew the cheque is the very pink of the proprieties, celebrated too, and what makes it worse one of your fellows who do what they call good.

Blackmail, I suppose; an honest man paying through the nose for some of the capers of his youth. Black Mail House is what I call the place with the door, in consequence.

From this he was recalled by Mr. You sit quietly on the top of a hill; and away the stone goes, starting others; and presently some bland old bird the last you would have thought of is knocked on the head in his own back garden and the family have to change their name.

No sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I ask. There is no other door, and nobody goes in or out of that one but, once in a great while, the gentleman of my adventure.

And then there is a chimney which is generally smoking; so somebody must live there. I want to ask the name of that man who walked over the child.

It was a man of the name of Hyde. There is something wrong with his appearance; something displeasing, something down-right detestable.

I never saw a man I so disliked, and yet I scarce know why. Utterson again walked some way in silence and obviously under a weight of consideration.

The fact is, if I do not ask you the name of the other party, it is because I know it already. You see, Richard, your tale has gone home. If you have been inexact in any point you had better correct it.

I saw him use it not a week ago. Utterson sighed deeply but said never a word; and the young man presently resumed. Let us make a bargain never to refer to this again.

That evening Mr. Utterson came home to his bachelor house in sombre spirits and sat down to dinner without relish. It was his custom of a Sunday, when this meal was over, to sit close by the fire, a volume of some dry divinity on his reading desk, until the clock of the neighbouring church rang out the hour of twelve, when he would go soberly and gratefully to bed.

On this night however, as soon as the cloth was taken away, he took up a candle and went into his business room. There he opened his safe, took from the most private part of it a document endorsed on the envelope as Dr.

The will was holograph, for Mr. Utterson though he took charge of it now that it was made, had refused to lend the least assistance in the making of it; it provided not only that, in case of the decease of Henry Jekyll, M.

It offended him both as a lawyer and as a lover of the sane and customary sides of life, to whom the fanciful was the immodest.

And hitherto it was his ignorance of Mr. Hyde that had swelled his indignation; now, by a sudden turn, it was his knowledge.

It was already bad enough when the name was but a name of which he could learn no more. It was worse when it began to be clothed upon with detestable attributes; and out of the shifting, insubstantial mists that had so long baffled his eye, there leaped up the sudden, definite presentment of a fiend.

With that he blew out his candle, put on a greatcoat, and set forth in the direction of Cavendish Square, that citadel of medicine, where his friend, the great Dr.

Lanyon, had his house and received his crowding patients. The solemn butler knew and welcomed him; he was subjected to no stage of delay, but ushered direct from the door to the dining-room where Dr.

Lanyon sat alone over his wine. This was a hearty, healthy, dapper, red-faced gentleman, with a shock of hair prematurely white, and a boisterous and decided manner.

At sight of Mr. Utterson, he sprang up from his chair and welcomed him with both hands. The geniality, as was the way of the man, was somewhat theatrical to the eye; but it reposed on genuine feeling.

After a little rambling talk, the lawyer led up to the subject which so disagreeably preoccupied his mind. And what of that? I see little of him now.

This little spirit of temper was somewhat of a relief to Mr. That was the amount of information that the lawyer carried back with him to the great, dark bed on which he tossed to and fro, until the small hours of the morning began to grow large.

It was a night of little ease to his toiling mind, toiling in mere darkness and besieged by questions. Hitherto it had touched him on the intellectual side alone; but now his imagination also was engaged, or rather enslaved; and as he lay and tossed in the gross darkness of the night and the curtained room, Mr.

Or else he would see a room in a rich house, where his friend lay asleep, dreaming and smiling at his dreams; and then the door of that room would be opened, the curtains of the bed plucked apart, the sleeper recalled, and lo!

The figure in these two phases haunted the lawyer all night; and if at any time he dozed over, it was but to see it glide more stealthily through sleeping houses, or move the more swiftly and still the more swiftly, even to dizziness, through wider labyrinths of lamplighted city, and at every street corner crush a child and leave her screaming.

If he could but once set eyes on him, he thought the mystery would lighten and perhaps roll altogether away, as was the habit of mysterious things when well examined.

At least it would be a face worth seeing: the face of a man who was without bowels of mercy: a face which had but to show itself to raise up, in the mind of the unimpressionable Enfield, a spirit of enduring hatred.

From that time forward, Mr. Utterson began to haunt the door in the by-street of shops. In the morning before office hours, at noon when business was plenty and time scarce, at night under the face of the fogged city moon, by all lights and at all hours of solitude or concourse, the lawyer was to be found on his chosen post.

And at last his patience was rewarded. It was a fine dry night; frost in the air; the streets as clean as a ballroom floor; the lamps, unshaken by any wind, drawing a regular pattern of light and shadow.

Small sounds carried far; domestic sounds out of the houses were clearly audible on either side of the roadway; and the rumour of the approach of any passenger preceded him by a long time.

Utterson had been some minutes at his post, when he was aware of an odd light footstep drawing near. In the course of his nightly patrols, he had long grown accustomed to the quaint effect with which the footfalls of a single person, while he is still a great way off, suddenly spring out distinct from the vast hum and clatter of the city.

Yet his attention had never before been so sharply and decisively arrested; and it was with a strong, superstitious prevision of success that he withdrew into the entry of the court.

The steps drew swiftly nearer, and swelled out suddenly louder as they turned the end of the street. The lawyer, looking forth from the entry, could soon see what manner of man he had to deal with.

But he made straight for the door, crossing the roadway to save time; and as he came, he drew a key from his pocket like one approaching home.

Utterson stepped out and touched him on the shoulder as he passed. Hyde, I think? Hyde shrank back with a hissing intake of the breath. What do you want?

Utterson of Gaunt Street—you must have heard of my name; and meeting you so conveniently, I thought you might admit me.

Hyde, blowing in the key. Hyde appeared to hesitate, and then, as if upon some sudden reflection, fronted about with an air of defiance; and the pair stared at each other pretty fixedly for a few seconds.

Hyde, with a flush of anger. The other snarled aloud into a savage laugh; and the next moment, with extraordinary quickness, he had unlocked the door and disappeared into the house.

The lawyer stood awhile when Mr. Hyde had left him, the picture of disquietude. Then he began slowly to mount the street, pausing every step or two and putting his hand to his brow like a man in mental perplexity.

The problem he was thus debating as he walked, was one of a class that is rarely solved. Hyde was pale and dwarfish, he gave an impression of deformity without any nameable malformation, he had a displeasing smile, he had borne himself to the lawyer with a sort of murderous mixture of timidity and boldness, and he spoke with a husky, whispering and somewhat broken voice; all these were points against him, but not all of these together could explain the hitherto unknown disgust, loathing and fear with which Mr.

Utterson regarded him. God bless me, the man seems hardly human! Something troglodytic, shall we say? Round the corner from the by-street, there was a square of ancient, handsome houses, now for the most part decayed from their high estate and let in flats and chambers to all sorts and conditions of men; map-engravers, architects, shady lawyers and the agents of obscure enterprises.

One house, however, second from the corner, was still occupied entire; and at the door of this, which wore a great air of wealth and comfort, though it was now plunged in darkness except for the fanlight, Mr.

Utterson stopped and knocked. A well-dressed, elderly servant opened the door. But tonight there was a shudder in his blood; the face of Hyde sat heavy on his memory; he felt what was rare with him a nausea and distaste of life; and in the gloom of his spirits, he seemed to read a menace in the flickering of the firelight on the polished cabinets and the uneasy starting of the shadow on the roof.

He was ashamed of his relief, when Poole presently returned to announce that Dr. Jekyll was gone out. Jekyll is from home?

Hyde has a key. And the lawyer set out homeward with a very heavy heart. He was wild when he was young; a long while ago to be sure; but in the law of God, there is no statute of limitations.

Ay, it must be that; the ghost of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace: punishment coming, pede claudo , years after memory has forgotten and self-love condoned the fault.

His past was fairly blameless; few men could read the rolls of their life with less apprehension; yet he was humbled to the dust by the many ill things he had done, and raised up again into a sober and fearful gratitude by the many he had come so near to doing yet avoided.

And then by a return on his former subject, he conceived a spark of hope. Things cannot continue as they are. And the danger of it; for if this Hyde suspects the existence of the will, he may grow impatient to inherit.

A fortnight later, by excellent good fortune, the doctor gave one of his pleasant dinners to some five or six old cronies, all intelligent, reputable men and all judges of good wine; and Mr.

Utterson so contrived that he remained behind after the others had departed. This was no new arrangement, but a thing that had befallen many scores of times.

Where Utterson was liked, he was liked well. To this rule, Dr. Jekyll was no exception; and as he now sat on the opposite side of the fire—a large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty, with something of a stylish cast perhaps, but every mark of capacity and kindness—you could see by his looks that he cherished for Mr.

Utterson a sincere and warm affection. A close observer might have gathered that the topic was distasteful; but the doctor carried it off gaily.

I never saw a man so distressed as you were by my will; unless it were that hide-bound pedant, Lanyon, at what he called my scientific heresies.

I was never more disappointed in any man than Lanyon. The large handsome face of Dr. Jekyll grew pale to the very lips, and there came a blackness about his eyes.

It is one of those affairs that cannot be mended by talking. Make a clean breast of this in confidence; and I make no doubt I can get you out of it.

I have really a very great interest in poor Hyde. I know you have seen him; he told me so; and I fear he was rude. But I do sincerely take a great, a very great interest in that young man; and if I am taken away, Utterson, I wish you to promise me that you will bear with him and get his rights for him.

I think you would, if you knew all; and it would be a weight off my mind if you would promise.

Nearly a year later, in the month of October, 18—, London was startled by a crime of singular ferocity and rendered all the more notable by the high position of the victim.

The details were few and startling. A maid servant living alone in a house not far from the river, had gone upstairs to bed about eleven. It seems she was romantically given, for she sat down upon her box, which stood immediately under the window, and fell into a dream of musing.

Never she used to say, with streaming tears, when she narrated that experience , never had she felt more at peace with all men or thought more kindly of the world.

And as she so sat she became aware of an aged beautiful gentleman with white hair, drawing near along the lane; and advancing to meet him, another and very small gentleman, to whom at first she paid less attention.

It did not seem as if the subject of his address were of great importance; indeed, from his pointing, it sometimes appeared as if he were only inquiring his way; but the moon shone on his face as he spoke, and the girl was pleased to watch it, it seemed to breathe such an innocent and old-world kindness of disposition, yet with something high too, as of a well-founded self-content.

Presently her eye wandered to the other, and she was surprised to recognise in him a certain Mr. Hyde, who had once visited her master and for whom she had conceived a dislike.

He had in his hand a heavy cane, with which he was trifling; but he answered never a word, and seemed to listen with an ill-contained impatience.

And then all of a sudden he broke out in a great flame of anger, stamping with his foot, brandishing the cane, and carrying on as the maid described it like a madman.

The old gentleman took a step back, with the air of one very much surprised and a trifle hurt; and at that Mr. Hyde broke out of all bounds and clubbed him to the earth.

And next moment, with ape-like fury, he was trampling his victim under foot and hailing down a storm of blows, under which the bones were audibly shattered and the body jumped upon the roadway.

At the horror of these sights and sounds, the maid fainted. The murderer was gone long ago; but there lay his victim in the middle of the lane, incredibly mangled.

The stick with which the deed had been done, although it was of some rare and very tough and heavy wood, had broken in the middle under the stress of this insensate cruelty; and one splintered half had rolled in the neighbouring gutter—the other, without doubt, had been carried away by the murderer.

A purse and gold watch were found upon the victim: but no cards or papers, except a sealed and stamped envelope, which he had been probably carrying to the post, and which bore the name and address of Mr.

This was brought to the lawyer the next morning, before he was out of bed; and he had no sooner seen it and been told the circumstances, than he shot out a solemn lip.

Have the kindness to wait while I dress. As soon as he came into the cell, he nodded. I am sorry to say that this is Sir Danvers Carew.

Utterson had already quailed at the name of Hyde; but when the stick was laid before him, he could doubt no longer; broken and battered as it was, he recognised it for one that he had himself presented many years before to Henry Jekyll.

It was by this time about nine in the morning, and the first fog of the season. A great chocolate-coloured pall lowered over heaven, but the wind was continually charging and routing these embattled vapours; so that as the cab crawled from street to street, Mr.

Utterson beheld a marvelous number of degrees and hues of twilight; for here it would be dark like the back-end of evening; and there would be a glow of a rich, lurid brown, like the light of some strange conflagration; and here, for a moment, the fog would be quite broken up, and a haggard shaft of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths.

As the cab drew up before the address indicated, the fog lifted a little and showed him a dingy street, a gin palace, a low French eating house, a shop for the retail of penny numbers and twopenny salads, many ragged children huddled in the doorways, and many women of many different nationalities passing out, key in hand, to have a morning glass; and the next moment the fog settled down again upon that part, as brown as umber, and cut him off from his blackguardly surroundings.

An ivory-faced and silvery-haired old woman opened the door. She had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy: but her manners were excellent.

Yes, she said, this was Mr. What has he done? Utterson and the inspector exchanged glances. In the whole extent of the house, which but for the old woman remained otherwise empty, Mr.

Hyde had only used a couple of rooms; but these were furnished with luxury and good taste. A closet was filled with wine; the plate was of silver, the napery elegant; a good picture hung upon the walls, a gift as Utterson supposed from Henry Jekyll, who was much of a connoisseur; and the carpets were of many plies and agreeable in colour.

At this moment, however, the rooms bore every mark of having been recently and hurriedly ransacked; clothes lay about the floor, with their pockets inside out; lock-fast drawers stood open; and on the hearth there lay a pile of grey ashes, as though many papers had been burned.

From these embers the inspector disinterred the butt end of a green cheque book, which had resisted the action of the fire; the other half of the stick was found behind the door; and as this clinched his suspicions, the officer declared himself delighted.

He must have lost his head, or he never would have left the stick or, above all, burned the cheque book. We have nothing to do but wait for him at the bank, and get out the handbills.

This last, however, was not so easy of accomplishment; for Mr. Hyde had numbered few familiars—even the master of the servant maid had only seen him twice; his family could nowhere be traced; he had never been photographed; and the few who could describe him differed widely, as common observers will.

Only on one point were they agreed; and that was the haunting sense of unexpressed deformity with which the fugitive impressed his beholders.

It was late in the afternoon, when Mr. Utterson found his way to Dr. The doctor had bought the house from the heirs of a celebrated surgeon; and his own tastes being rather chemical than anatomical, had changed the destination of the block at the bottom of the garden.

At the further end, a flight of stairs mounted to a door covered with red baize; and through this, Mr. It was a large room fitted round with glass presses, furnished, among other things, with a cheval-glass and a business table, and looking out upon the court by three dusty windows barred with iron.

The fire burned in the grate; a lamp was set lighted on the chimney shelf, for even in the houses the fog began to lie thickly; and there, close up to the warmth, sat Dr.

Jekyll, looking deathly sick. He did not rise to meet his visitor, but held out a cold hand and bade him welcome in a changed voice. The doctor shuddered.

You have not been mad enough to hide this fellow? I bind my honour to you that I am done with him in this world.

It is all at an end. And indeed he does not want my help; you do not know him as I do; he is safe, he is quite safe; mark my words, he will never more be heard of.

If it came to a trial, your name might appear. But there is one thing on which you may advise me. I have—I have received a letter; and I am at a loss whether I should show it to the police.

I should like to leave it in your hands, Utterson; you would judge wisely, I am sure; I have so great a trust in you.

I was thinking of my own character, which this hateful business has rather exposed. Jekyll, whom he had long so unworthily repaid for a thousand generosities, need labour under no alarm for his safety, as he had means of escape on which he placed a sure dependence.

The lawyer liked this letter well enough; it put a better colour on the intimacy than he had looked for; and he blamed himself for some of his past suspicions.

But it bore no postmark. The note was handed in. You had a fine escape. On his way out, the lawyer stopped and had a word or two with Poole.

This news sent off the visitor with his fears renewed. Plainly the letter had come by the laboratory door; possibly, indeed, it had been written in the cabinet; and if that were so, it must be differently judged, and handled with the more caution.

Shocking murder of an M. It was, at least, a ticklish decision that he had to make; and self-reliant as he was by habit, he began to cherish a longing for advice.

It was not to be had directly; but perhaps, he thought, it might be fished for. Presently after, he sat on one side of his own hearth, with Mr.

Guest, his head clerk, upon the other, and midway between, at a nicely calculated distance from the fire, a bottle of a particular old wine that had long dwelt unsunned in the foundations of his house.

But the room was gay with firelight. In the bottle the acids were long ago resolved; the imperial dye had softened with time, as the colour grows richer in stained windows; and the glow of hot autumn afternoons on hillside vineyards, was ready to be set free and to disperse the fogs of London.

Insensibly the lawyer melted. There was no man from whom he kept fewer secrets than Mr. Guest; and he was not always sure that he kept as many as he meant.

The clerk, besides, was a man of counsel; he could scarce read so strange a document without dropping a remark; and by that remark Mr. Utterson might shape his future course.

Jekyll, sir? Anything private, Mr. There was a pause, during which Mr. Utterson struggled with himself. But no sooner was Mr. Utterson alone that night, than he locked the note into his safe, where it reposed from that time forward.

Time ran on; thousands of pounds were offered in reward, for the death of Sir Danvers was resented as a public injury; but Mr. Hyde had disappeared out of the ken of the police as though he had never existed.

From the time he had left the house in Soho on the morning of the murder, he was simply blotted out; and gradually, as time drew on, Mr. Utterson began to recover from the hotness of his alarm, and to grow more at quiet with himself.

The death of Sir Danvers was, to his way of thinking, more than paid for by the disappearance of Mr.

Now that that evil influence had been withdrawn, a new life began for Dr. He came out of his seclusion, renewed relations with his friends, became once more their familiar guest and entertainer; and whilst he had always been known for charities, he was now no less distinguished for religion.

He was busy, he was much in the open air, he did good; his face seemed to open and brighten, as if with an inward consciousness of service; and for more than two months, the doctor was at peace.

On the 12th, and again on the 14th, the door was shut against the lawyer. The fifth night he had in Guest to dine with him; and the sixth he betook himself to Dr.

He had his death-warrant written legibly upon his face. It was unlikely that the doctor should fear death; and yet that was what Utterson was tempted to suspect.

It is a question of weeks. Well, life has been pleasant; I liked it; yes, sir, I used to like it. I sometimes think if we knew all, we should be more glad to get away.

I cannot tell you. As soon as he got home, Utterson sat down and wrote to Jekyll, complaining of his exclusion from the house, and asking the cause of this unhappy break with Lanyon; and the next day brought him a long answer, often very pathetically worded, and sometimes darkly mysterious in drift.

The quarrel with Lanyon was incurable. I mean from henceforth to lead a life of extreme seclusion; you must not be surprised, nor must you doubt my friendship, if my door is often shut even to you.

You must suffer me to go my own dark way. I have brought on myself a punishment and a danger that I cannot name. If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also.

I could not think that this earth contained a place for sufferings and terrors so unmanning; and you can do but one thing, Utterson, to lighten this destiny, and that is to respect my silence.

A week afterwards Dr. Lanyon took to his bed, and in something less than a fortnight he was dead. The night after the funeral, at which he had been sadly affected, Utterson locked the door of his business room, and sitting there by the light of a melancholy candle, drew out and set before him an envelope addressed by the hand and sealed with the seal of his dead friend.

Henry Jekyll. Yes, it was disappearance; here again, as in the mad will which he had long ago restored to its author, here again were the idea of a disappearance and the name of Henry Jekyll bracketted.

But in the will, that idea had sprung from the sinister suggestion of the man Hyde; it was set there with a purpose all too plain and horrible.

Written by the hand of Lanyon, what should it mean? A great curiosity came on the trustee, to disregard the prohibition and dive at once to the bottom of these mysteries; but professional honour and faith to his dead friend were stringent obligations; and the packet slept in the inmost corner of his private safe.

It is one thing to mortify curiosity, another to conquer it; and it may be doubted if, from that day forth, Utterson desired the society of his surviving friend with the same eagerness.

He thought of him kindly; but his thoughts were disquieted and fearful. He went to call indeed; but he was perhaps relieved to be denied admittance; perhaps, in his heart, he preferred to speak with Poole upon the doorstep and surrounded by the air and sounds of the open city, rather than to be admitted into that house of voluntary bondage, and to sit and speak with its inscrutable recluse.

Poole had, indeed, no very pleasant news to communicate. The doctor, it appeared, now more than ever confined himself to the cabinet over the laboratory, where he would sometimes even sleep; he was out of spirits, he had grown very silent, he did not read; it seemed as if he had something on his mind.

Utterson became so used to the unvarying character of these reports, that he fell off little by little in the frequency of his visits.

It chanced on Sunday, when Mr. Utterson was on his usual walk with Mr. Enfield, that their way lay once again through the by-street; and that when they came in front of the door, both stopped to gaze on it.

We shall never see more of Mr. It was partly your own fault that I found it out, even when I did. To tell you the truth, I am uneasy about poor Jekyll; and even outside, I feel as if the presence of a friend might do him good.

The court was very cool and a little damp, and full of premature twilight, although the sky, high up overhead, was still bright with sunset.

The middle one of the three windows was half-way open; and sitting close beside it, taking the air with an infinite sadness of mien, like some disconsolate prisoner, Utterson saw Dr.

It will not last long, thank God. Enfield and me. This is my cousin—Mr. Come now; get your hat and take a quick turn with us.

But indeed, Utterson, I am very glad to see you; this is really a great pleasure; I would ask you and Mr.

Enfield up, but the place is really not fit. But the words were hardly uttered, before the smile was struck out of his face and succeeded by an expression of such abject terror and despair, as froze the very blood of the two gentlemen below.

They saw it but for a glimpse for the window was instantly thrust down; but that glimpse had been sufficient, and they turned and left the court without a word.

In silence, too, they traversed the by-street; and it was not until they had come into a neighbouring thoroughfare, where even upon a Sunday there were still some stirrings of life, that Mr.

Utterson at last turned and looked at his companion. They were both pale; and there was an answering horror in their eyes.

Utterson was sitting by his fireside one evening after dinner, when he was surprised to receive a visit from Poole.

What are you afraid of? Even now, he sat with the glass of wine untasted on his knee, and his eyes directed to a corner of the floor.

Try to tell me what it is. What does the man mean? It was a wild, cold, seasonable night of March, with a pale moon, lying on her back as though the wind had tilted her, and flying wrack of the most diaphanous and lawny texture.

The wind made talking difficult, and flecked the blood into the face. It seemed to have swept the streets unusually bare of passengers, besides; for Mr.

Utterson thought he had never seen that part of London so deserted. He could have wished it otherwise; never in his life had he been conscious of so sharp a wish to see and touch his fellow-creatures; for struggle as he might, there was borne in upon his mind a crushing anticipation of calamity.

The square, when they got there, was full of wind and dust, and the thin trees in the garden were lashing themselves along the railing. Poole, who had kept all the way a pace or two ahead, now pulled up in the middle of the pavement, and in spite of the biting weather, took off his hat and mopped his brow with a red pocket-handkerchief.

But for all the hurry of his coming, these were not the dews of exertion that he wiped away, but the moisture of some strangling anguish; for his face was white and his voice, when he spoke, harsh and broken.

The hall, when they entered it, was brightly lighted up; the fire was built high; and about the hearth the whole of the servants, men and women, stood huddled together like a flock of sheep.

At the sight of Mr. Are you all here? Blank silence followed, no one protesting; only the maid lifted her voice and now wept loudly.

Utterson to follow him, and led the way to the back garden. Here Poole motioned him to stand on one side and listen; while he himself, setting down the candle and making a great and obvious call on his resolution, mounted the steps and knocked with a somewhat uncertain hand on the red baize of the cabinet door.

Utterson back across the yard and into the great kitchen, where the fire was out and the beetles were leaping on the floor.

Utterson, biting his finger. Jekyll to have been—well, murdered, what could induce the murderer to stay? Well, sir, every day, ay, and twice and thrice in the same day, there have been orders and complaints, and I have been sent flying to all the wholesale chemists in town.

Every time I brought the stuff back, there would be another paper telling me to return it, because it was not pure, and another order to a different firm.

This drug is wanted bitter bad, sir, whatever for. Poole felt in his pocket and handed out a crumpled note, which the lawyer, bending nearer to the candle, carefully examined.

Jekyll presents his compliments to Messrs. He assures them that their last sample is impure and quite useless for his present purpose.

In the year 18—, Dr. He now begs them to search with most sedulous care, and should any of the same quality be left, forward it to him at once.

Expense is no consideration. The importance of this to Dr. I came suddenly into the theatre from the garden.

It seems he had slipped out to look for this drug or whatever it is; for the cabinet door was open, and there he was at the far end of the room digging among the crates.

He looked up when I came in, gave a kind of cry, and whipped upstairs into the cabinet. It was but for one minute that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my head like quills.

Sir, if that was my master, why had he a mask upon his face? If it was my master, why did he cry out like a rat, and run from me? I have served him long enough.

And then Your master, Poole, is plainly seized with one of those maladies that both torture and deform the sufferer; hence, for aught I know, the alteration of his voice; hence the mask and the avoidance of his friends; hence his eagerness to find this drug, by means of which the poor soul retains some hope of ultimate recovery—God grant that he be not deceived!

There is my explanation; it is sad enough, Poole, ay, and appalling to consider; but it is plain and natural, hangs well together, and delivers us from all exorbitant alarms.

Do you think I do not know where his head comes to in the cabinet door, where I saw him every morning of my life? No, sir, that thing in the mask was never Dr.

Jekyll—God knows what it was, but it was never Dr. Jekyll; and it is the belief of my heart that there was murder done.

The lawyer took that rude but weighty instrument into his hand, and balanced it. This masked figure that you saw, did you recognise it?

You see, it was much of the same bigness; and it had the same quick, light way with it; and then who else could have got in by the laboratory door? You have not forgot, sir, that at the time of the murder he had still the key with him?

Utterson, if you ever met this Mr. Evil, I fear, founded—evil was sure to come—of that connection. Well, let our name be vengeance.

Call Bradshaw. Poole, here, and I are going to force our way into the cabinet. If all is well, my shoulders are broad enough to bear the blame.

Meanwhile, lest anything should really be amiss, or any malefactor seek to escape by the back, you and the boy must go round the corner with a pair of good sticks and take your post at the laboratory door.

We give you ten minutes to get to your stations. As Bradshaw left, the lawyer looked at his watch. The scud had banked over the moon, and it was now quite dark.

It chanced on one of these rambles that their way led them down a by-street in a busy quarter of London.

The street was small and what is called quiet, but it drove a thriving trade on the weekdays. The inhabitants were all doing well, it seemed and all emulously hoping to do better still, and laying out the surplus of their grains in coquetry; so that the shop fronts stood along that thoroughfare with an air of invitation, like rows of smiling saleswomen.

Even on Sunday, when it veiled its more florid charms and lay comparatively empty of passage, the street shone out in contrast to its dingy neighbourhood, like a fire in a forest; and with its freshly painted shutters, well-polished brasses, and general cleanliness and gaiety of note, instantly caught and pleased the eye of the passenger.

Two doors from one corner, on the left hand going east the line was broken by the entry of a court; and just at that point a certain sinister block of building thrust forward its gable on the street.

It was two storeys high; showed no window, nothing but a door on the lower storey and a blind forehead of discoloured wall on the upper; and bore in every feature, the marks of prolonged and sordid negligence.

The door, which was equipped with neither bell nor knocker, was blistered and distained. Tramps slouched into the recess and struck matches on the panels; children kept shop upon the steps; the schoolboy had tried his knife on the mouldings; and for close on a generation, no one had appeared to drive away these random visitors or to repair their ravages.

Enfield and the lawyer were on the other side of the by-street; but when they came abreast of the entry, the former lifted up his cane and pointed.

Utterson, with a slight change of voice, "and what was that? Enfield: "I was coming home from some place at the end of the world, about three o'clock of a black winter morning, and my way lay through a part of town where there was literally nothing to be seen but lamps.

Street after street and all the folks asleep--street after street, all lighted up as if for a procession and all as empty as a church-- till at last I got into that state of mind when a man listens and listens and begins to long for the sight of a policeman.

All at once, I saw two figures: one a little man who was stumping along eastward at a good walk, and the other a girl of maybe eight or ten who was running as hard as she was able down a cross street.

Well, sir, the two ran into one another naturally enough at the corner; and then came the horrible part of the thing; for the man trampled calmly over the child's body and left her screaming on the ground.

It sounds nothing to hear, but it was hellish to see. It wasn't like a man; it was like some damned Juggernaut. I gave a few halloa, took to my heels, collared my gentleman, and brought him back to where there was already quite a group about the screaming child.

He was perfectly cool and made no resistance, but gave me one look, so ugly that it brought out the sweat on me like running.

The people who had turned out were the girl's own family; and pretty soon, the doctor, for whom she had been sent put in his appearance.

Well, the child was not much the worse, more frightened, according to the Sawbones; and there you might have supposed would be an end to it.

But there was one curious circumstance. I had taken a loathing to my gentleman at first sight. So had the child's family, which was only natural.

But the doctor's case was what struck me. He was the usual cut and dry apothecary, of no particular age and colour, with a strong Edinburgh accent and about as emotional as a bagpipe.

Well, sir, he was like the rest of us; every time he looked at my prisoner, I saw that Sawbones turn sick and white with desire to kill him.

I knew what was in his mind, just as he knew what was in mine; and killing being out of the question, we did the next best. We told the man we could and would make such a scandal out of this as should make his name stink from one end of London to the other.

If he had any friends or any credit, we undertook that he should lose them. And all the time, as we were pitching it in red hot, we were keeping the women off him as best we could for they were as wild as harpies.

I never saw a circle of such hateful faces; and there was the man in the middle, with a kind of black sneering coolness--frightened to, I could see that--but carrying it off, sir, really like Satan.

No gentleman but wishes to avoid a scene,' says he. The next thing was to get the money; and where do you think he carried us but to that place with the door?

The figure was stiff; but the signature was good for more than that if it was only genuine. I took the liberty of pointing out to my gentleman that the whole business looked apocryphal, and that a man does not, in real life, walk into a cellar door at four in the morning and come out with another man's cheque for close upon a hundred pounds.

But he was quite easy and sneering. I gave in the cheque myself, and said I had every reason to believe it was a forgery. Not a bit of it.

The cheque was genuine. For my man was a fellow that nobody could have to do with, a really damnable man; and the person that drew the cheque is the very pink of the proprieties, celebrated too, and what makes it worse one of your fellows who do what they call good.

Black mail I suppose; an honest man paying through the nose for some of the capers of his youth. Black Mail House is what I call the place with the door, in consequence.

Though even that, you know, is far from explaining all," he added, and with the words fell into a vein of musing. From this he was recalled by Mr.

Utterson asking rather suddenly: "And you don't know if the drawer of the cheque lives there?

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Listening Library Children's Audiobooks. Featured Provider. The lawyer stood awhile when Mr. Hyde had left him, the picture of disquietude.

Then he began slowly to mount the street, pausing every step or two and putting his hand to his brow like a man in mental perplexity. The problem he was thus debating as he walked, was one of a class that is rarely solved.

Hyde was pale and dwarfish, he gave an impression of deformity without any nameable malformation, he had a displeasing smile, he had borne himself to the lawyer with a sort of murderous mixture of timidity and boldness, and he spoke with a husky, whispering and somewhat broken voice; all these were points against him, but not all of these together could explain the hitherto unknown disgust, loathing and fear with which Mr.

Utterson regarded him. God bless me, the man seems hardly human! Something troglodytic, shall we say? Round the corner from the by-street, there was a square of ancient, handsome houses, now for the most part decayed from their high estate and let in flats and chambers to all sorts and conditions of men; map-engravers, architects, shady lawyers and the agents of obscure enterprises.

One house, however, second from the corner, was still occupied entire; and at the door of this, which wore a great air of wealth and comfort, though it was now plunged in darkness except for the fanlight, Mr.

Utterson stopped and knocked. A well-dressed, elderly servant opened the door. But tonight there was a shudder in his blood; the face of Hyde sat heavy on his memory; he felt what was rare with him a nausea and distaste of life; and in the gloom of his spirits, he seemed to read a menace in the flickering of the firelight on the polished cabinets and the uneasy starting of the shadow on the roof.

He was ashamed of his relief, when Poole presently returned to announce that Dr. Jekyll was gone out. Jekyll is from home? Hyde has a key. And the lawyer set out homeward with a very heavy heart.

He was wild when he was young; a long while ago to be sure; but in the law of God, there is no statute of limitations.

Ay, it must be that; the ghost of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace: punishment coming, pede claudo , years after memory has forgotten and self-love condoned the fault.

His past was fairly blameless; few men could read the rolls of their life with less apprehension; yet he was humbled to the dust by the many ill things he had done, and raised up again into a sober and fearful gratitude by the many he had come so near to doing yet avoided.

And then by a return on his former subject, he conceived a spark of hope. Things cannot continue as they are. And the danger of it; for if this Hyde suspects the existence of the will, he may grow impatient to inherit.

A fortnight later, by excellent good fortune, the doctor gave one of his pleasant dinners to some five or six old cronies, all intelligent, reputable men and all judges of good wine; and Mr.

Utterson so contrived that he remained behind after the others had departed. This was no new arrangement, but a thing that had befallen many scores of times.

Where Utterson was liked, he was liked well. To this rule, Dr. Jekyll was no exception; and as he now sat on the opposite side of the fire—a large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty, with something of a stylish cast perhaps, but every mark of capacity and kindness—you could see by his looks that he cherished for Mr.

Utterson a sincere and warm affection. A close observer might have gathered that the topic was distasteful; but the doctor carried it off gaily.

I never saw a man so distressed as you were by my will; unless it were that hide-bound pedant, Lanyon, at what he called my scientific heresies.

I was never more disappointed in any man than Lanyon. The large handsome face of Dr. Jekyll grew pale to the very lips, and there came a blackness about his eyes.

It is one of those affairs that cannot be mended by talking. Make a clean breast of this in confidence; and I make no doubt I can get you out of it.

I have really a very great interest in poor Hyde. I know you have seen him; he told me so; and I fear he was rude.

But I do sincerely take a great, a very great interest in that young man; and if I am taken away, Utterson, I wish you to promise me that you will bear with him and get his rights for him.

I think you would, if you knew all; and it would be a weight off my mind if you would promise. Nearly a year later, in the month of October, 18—, London was startled by a crime of singular ferocity and rendered all the more notable by the high position of the victim.

The details were few and startling. A maid servant living alone in a house not far from the river, had gone upstairs to bed about eleven. It seems she was romantically given, for she sat down upon her box, which stood immediately under the window, and fell into a dream of musing.

Never she used to say, with streaming tears, when she narrated that experience , never had she felt more at peace with all men or thought more kindly of the world.

And as she so sat she became aware of an aged beautiful gentleman with white hair, drawing near along the lane; and advancing to meet him, another and very small gentleman, to whom at first she paid less attention.

It did not seem as if the subject of his address were of great importance; indeed, from his pointing, it sometimes appeared as if he were only inquiring his way; but the moon shone on his face as he spoke, and the girl was pleased to watch it, it seemed to breathe such an innocent and old-world kindness of disposition, yet with something high too, as of a well-founded self-content.

Presently her eye wandered to the other, and she was surprised to recognise in him a certain Mr. Hyde, who had once visited her master and for whom she had conceived a dislike.

He had in his hand a heavy cane, with which he was trifling; but he answered never a word, and seemed to listen with an ill-contained impatience.

And then all of a sudden he broke out in a great flame of anger, stamping with his foot, brandishing the cane, and carrying on as the maid described it like a madman.

The old gentleman took a step back, with the air of one very much surprised and a trifle hurt; and at that Mr.

Hyde broke out of all bounds and clubbed him to the earth. And next moment, with ape-like fury, he was trampling his victim under foot and hailing down a storm of blows, under which the bones were audibly shattered and the body jumped upon the roadway.

At the horror of these sights and sounds, the maid fainted. The murderer was gone long ago; but there lay his victim in the middle of the lane, incredibly mangled.

The stick with which the deed had been done, although it was of some rare and very tough and heavy wood, had broken in the middle under the stress of this insensate cruelty; and one splintered half had rolled in the neighbouring gutter—the other, without doubt, had been carried away by the murderer.

A purse and gold watch were found upon the victim: but no cards or papers, except a sealed and stamped envelope, which he had been probably carrying to the post, and which bore the name and address of Mr.

This was brought to the lawyer the next morning, before he was out of bed; and he had no sooner seen it and been told the circumstances, than he shot out a solemn lip.

Have the kindness to wait while I dress. As soon as he came into the cell, he nodded. I am sorry to say that this is Sir Danvers Carew.

Utterson had already quailed at the name of Hyde; but when the stick was laid before him, he could doubt no longer; broken and battered as it was, he recognised it for one that he had himself presented many years before to Henry Jekyll.

It was by this time about nine in the morning, and the first fog of the season. A great chocolate-coloured pall lowered over heaven, but the wind was continually charging and routing these embattled vapours; so that as the cab crawled from street to street, Mr.

Utterson beheld a marvelous number of degrees and hues of twilight; for here it would be dark like the back-end of evening; and there would be a glow of a rich, lurid brown, like the light of some strange conflagration; and here, for a moment, the fog would be quite broken up, and a haggard shaft of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths.

As the cab drew up before the address indicated, the fog lifted a little and showed him a dingy street, a gin palace, a low French eating house, a shop for the retail of penny numbers and twopenny salads, many ragged children huddled in the doorways, and many women of many different nationalities passing out, key in hand, to have a morning glass; and the next moment the fog settled down again upon that part, as brown as umber, and cut him off from his blackguardly surroundings.

An ivory-faced and silvery-haired old woman opened the door. She had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy: but her manners were excellent.

Yes, she said, this was Mr. What has he done? Utterson and the inspector exchanged glances. In the whole extent of the house, which but for the old woman remained otherwise empty, Mr.

Hyde had only used a couple of rooms; but these were furnished with luxury and good taste. A closet was filled with wine; the plate was of silver, the napery elegant; a good picture hung upon the walls, a gift as Utterson supposed from Henry Jekyll, who was much of a connoisseur; and the carpets were of many plies and agreeable in colour.

At this moment, however, the rooms bore every mark of having been recently and hurriedly ransacked; clothes lay about the floor, with their pockets inside out; lock-fast drawers stood open; and on the hearth there lay a pile of grey ashes, as though many papers had been burned.

From these embers the inspector disinterred the butt end of a green cheque book, which had resisted the action of the fire; the other half of the stick was found behind the door; and as this clinched his suspicions, the officer declared himself delighted.

He must have lost his head, or he never would have left the stick or, above all, burned the cheque book.

We have nothing to do but wait for him at the bank, and get out the handbills. This last, however, was not so easy of accomplishment; for Mr. Hyde had numbered few familiars—even the master of the servant maid had only seen him twice; his family could nowhere be traced; he had never been photographed; and the few who could describe him differed widely, as common observers will.

Only on one point were they agreed; and that was the haunting sense of unexpressed deformity with which the fugitive impressed his beholders.

It was late in the afternoon, when Mr. Utterson found his way to Dr. The doctor had bought the house from the heirs of a celebrated surgeon; and his own tastes being rather chemical than anatomical, had changed the destination of the block at the bottom of the garden.

At the further end, a flight of stairs mounted to a door covered with red baize; and through this, Mr. It was a large room fitted round with glass presses, furnished, among other things, with a cheval-glass and a business table, and looking out upon the court by three dusty windows barred with iron.

The fire burned in the grate; a lamp was set lighted on the chimney shelf, for even in the houses the fog began to lie thickly; and there, close up to the warmth, sat Dr.

Jekyll, looking deathly sick. He did not rise to meet his visitor, but held out a cold hand and bade him welcome in a changed voice.

The doctor shuddered. You have not been mad enough to hide this fellow? I bind my honour to you that I am done with him in this world.

It is all at an end. And indeed he does not want my help; you do not know him as I do; he is safe, he is quite safe; mark my words, he will never more be heard of.

If it came to a trial, your name might appear. But there is one thing on which you may advise me. I have—I have received a letter; and I am at a loss whether I should show it to the police.

I should like to leave it in your hands, Utterson; you would judge wisely, I am sure; I have so great a trust in you.

I was thinking of my own character, which this hateful business has rather exposed. Jekyll, whom he had long so unworthily repaid for a thousand generosities, need labour under no alarm for his safety, as he had means of escape on which he placed a sure dependence.

The lawyer liked this letter well enough; it put a better colour on the intimacy than he had looked for; and he blamed himself for some of his past suspicions.

But it bore no postmark. The note was handed in. You had a fine escape. On his way out, the lawyer stopped and had a word or two with Poole.

This news sent off the visitor with his fears renewed. Plainly the letter had come by the laboratory door; possibly, indeed, it had been written in the cabinet; and if that were so, it must be differently judged, and handled with the more caution.

Shocking murder of an M. It was, at least, a ticklish decision that he had to make; and self-reliant as he was by habit, he began to cherish a longing for advice.

It was not to be had directly; but perhaps, he thought, it might be fished for. Presently after, he sat on one side of his own hearth, with Mr.

Guest, his head clerk, upon the other, and midway between, at a nicely calculated distance from the fire, a bottle of a particular old wine that had long dwelt unsunned in the foundations of his house.

But the room was gay with firelight. In the bottle the acids were long ago resolved; the imperial dye had softened with time, as the colour grows richer in stained windows; and the glow of hot autumn afternoons on hillside vineyards, was ready to be set free and to disperse the fogs of London.

Insensibly the lawyer melted. There was no man from whom he kept fewer secrets than Mr. Guest; and he was not always sure that he kept as many as he meant.

The clerk, besides, was a man of counsel; he could scarce read so strange a document without dropping a remark; and by that remark Mr.

Utterson might shape his future course. Jekyll, sir? Anything private, Mr. There was a pause, during which Mr.

Utterson struggled with himself. But no sooner was Mr. Utterson alone that night, than he locked the note into his safe, where it reposed from that time forward.

Time ran on; thousands of pounds were offered in reward, for the death of Sir Danvers was resented as a public injury; but Mr.

Hyde had disappeared out of the ken of the police as though he had never existed. From the time he had left the house in Soho on the morning of the murder, he was simply blotted out; and gradually, as time drew on, Mr.

Utterson began to recover from the hotness of his alarm, and to grow more at quiet with himself. The death of Sir Danvers was, to his way of thinking, more than paid for by the disappearance of Mr.

Now that that evil influence had been withdrawn, a new life began for Dr. He came out of his seclusion, renewed relations with his friends, became once more their familiar guest and entertainer; and whilst he had always been known for charities, he was now no less distinguished for religion.

He was busy, he was much in the open air, he did good; his face seemed to open and brighten, as if with an inward consciousness of service; and for more than two months, the doctor was at peace.

On the 12th, and again on the 14th, the door was shut against the lawyer. The fifth night he had in Guest to dine with him; and the sixth he betook himself to Dr.

He had his death-warrant written legibly upon his face. It was unlikely that the doctor should fear death; and yet that was what Utterson was tempted to suspect.

It is a question of weeks. Well, life has been pleasant; I liked it; yes, sir, I used to like it. I sometimes think if we knew all, we should be more glad to get away.

I cannot tell you. As soon as he got home, Utterson sat down and wrote to Jekyll, complaining of his exclusion from the house, and asking the cause of this unhappy break with Lanyon; and the next day brought him a long answer, often very pathetically worded, and sometimes darkly mysterious in drift.

The quarrel with Lanyon was incurable. I mean from henceforth to lead a life of extreme seclusion; you must not be surprised, nor must you doubt my friendship, if my door is often shut even to you.

You must suffer me to go my own dark way. I have brought on myself a punishment and a danger that I cannot name. If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also.

I could not think that this earth contained a place for sufferings and terrors so unmanning; and you can do but one thing, Utterson, to lighten this destiny, and that is to respect my silence.

A week afterwards Dr. Lanyon took to his bed, and in something less than a fortnight he was dead. The night after the funeral, at which he had been sadly affected, Utterson locked the door of his business room, and sitting there by the light of a melancholy candle, drew out and set before him an envelope addressed by the hand and sealed with the seal of his dead friend.

Henry Jekyll. Yes, it was disappearance; here again, as in the mad will which he had long ago restored to its author, here again were the idea of a disappearance and the name of Henry Jekyll bracketted.

But in the will, that idea had sprung from the sinister suggestion of the man Hyde; it was set there with a purpose all too plain and horrible.

Written by the hand of Lanyon, what should it mean? A great curiosity came on the trustee, to disregard the prohibition and dive at once to the bottom of these mysteries; but professional honour and faith to his dead friend were stringent obligations; and the packet slept in the inmost corner of his private safe.

It is one thing to mortify curiosity, another to conquer it; and it may be doubted if, from that day forth, Utterson desired the society of his surviving friend with the same eagerness.

He thought of him kindly; but his thoughts were disquieted and fearful. He went to call indeed; but he was perhaps relieved to be denied admittance; perhaps, in his heart, he preferred to speak with Poole upon the doorstep and surrounded by the air and sounds of the open city, rather than to be admitted into that house of voluntary bondage, and to sit and speak with its inscrutable recluse.

Poole had, indeed, no very pleasant news to communicate. The doctor, it appeared, now more than ever confined himself to the cabinet over the laboratory, where he would sometimes even sleep; he was out of spirits, he had grown very silent, he did not read; it seemed as if he had something on his mind.

Utterson became so used to the unvarying character of these reports, that he fell off little by little in the frequency of his visits.

It chanced on Sunday, when Mr. Utterson was on his usual walk with Mr. Enfield, that their way lay once again through the by-street; and that when they came in front of the door, both stopped to gaze on it.

We shall never see more of Mr. It was partly your own fault that I found it out, even when I did. To tell you the truth, I am uneasy about poor Jekyll; and even outside, I feel as if the presence of a friend might do him good.

The court was very cool and a little damp, and full of premature twilight, although the sky, high up overhead, was still bright with sunset.

The middle one of the three windows was half-way open; and sitting close beside it, taking the air with an infinite sadness of mien, like some disconsolate prisoner, Utterson saw Dr.

It will not last long, thank God. Enfield and me. This is my cousin—Mr. Come now; get your hat and take a quick turn with us. But indeed, Utterson, I am very glad to see you; this is really a great pleasure; I would ask you and Mr.

Enfield up, but the place is really not fit. But the words were hardly uttered, before the smile was struck out of his face and succeeded by an expression of such abject terror and despair, as froze the very blood of the two gentlemen below.

They saw it but for a glimpse for the window was instantly thrust down; but that glimpse had been sufficient, and they turned and left the court without a word.

In silence, too, they traversed the by-street; and it was not until they had come into a neighbouring thoroughfare, where even upon a Sunday there were still some stirrings of life, that Mr.

Utterson at last turned and looked at his companion. They were both pale; and there was an answering horror in their eyes.

Utterson was sitting by his fireside one evening after dinner, when he was surprised to receive a visit from Poole.

What are you afraid of? Even now, he sat with the glass of wine untasted on his knee, and his eyes directed to a corner of the floor. Try to tell me what it is.

What does the man mean? It was a wild, cold, seasonable night of March, with a pale moon, lying on her back as though the wind had tilted her, and flying wrack of the most diaphanous and lawny texture.

The wind made talking difficult, and flecked the blood into the face. It seemed to have swept the streets unusually bare of passengers, besides; for Mr.

Utterson thought he had never seen that part of London so deserted. He could have wished it otherwise; never in his life had he been conscious of so sharp a wish to see and touch his fellow-creatures; for struggle as he might, there was borne in upon his mind a crushing anticipation of calamity.

The square, when they got there, was full of wind and dust, and the thin trees in the garden were lashing themselves along the railing. Poole, who had kept all the way a pace or two ahead, now pulled up in the middle of the pavement, and in spite of the biting weather, took off his hat and mopped his brow with a red pocket-handkerchief.

But for all the hurry of his coming, these were not the dews of exertion that he wiped away, but the moisture of some strangling anguish; for his face was white and his voice, when he spoke, harsh and broken.

The hall, when they entered it, was brightly lighted up; the fire was built high; and about the hearth the whole of the servants, men and women, stood huddled together like a flock of sheep.

At the sight of Mr. Are you all here? Blank silence followed, no one protesting; only the maid lifted her voice and now wept loudly.

Utterson to follow him, and led the way to the back garden. Here Poole motioned him to stand on one side and listen; while he himself, setting down the candle and making a great and obvious call on his resolution, mounted the steps and knocked with a somewhat uncertain hand on the red baize of the cabinet door.

Utterson back across the yard and into the great kitchen, where the fire was out and the beetles were leaping on the floor.

Utterson, biting his finger. Jekyll to have been—well, murdered, what could induce the murderer to stay? Well, sir, every day, ay, and twice and thrice in the same day, there have been orders and complaints, and I have been sent flying to all the wholesale chemists in town.

Every time I brought the stuff back, there would be another paper telling me to return it, because it was not pure, and another order to a different firm.

This drug is wanted bitter bad, sir, whatever for. Poole felt in his pocket and handed out a crumpled note, which the lawyer, bending nearer to the candle, carefully examined.

Jekyll presents his compliments to Messrs. He assures them that their last sample is impure and quite useless for his present purpose. In the year 18—, Dr.

He now begs them to search with most sedulous care, and should any of the same quality be left, forward it to him at once.

Expense is no consideration. The importance of this to Dr. I came suddenly into the theatre from the garden. It seems he had slipped out to look for this drug or whatever it is; for the cabinet door was open, and there he was at the far end of the room digging among the crates.

He looked up when I came in, gave a kind of cry, and whipped upstairs into the cabinet. It was but for one minute that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my head like quills.

Sir, if that was my master, why had he a mask upon his face? If it was my master, why did he cry out like a rat, and run from me?

I have served him long enough. And then Your master, Poole, is plainly seized with one of those maladies that both torture and deform the sufferer; hence, for aught I know, the alteration of his voice; hence the mask and the avoidance of his friends; hence his eagerness to find this drug, by means of which the poor soul retains some hope of ultimate recovery—God grant that he be not deceived!

There is my explanation; it is sad enough, Poole, ay, and appalling to consider; but it is plain and natural, hangs well together, and delivers us from all exorbitant alarms.

Do you think I do not know where his head comes to in the cabinet door, where I saw him every morning of my life? No, sir, that thing in the mask was never Dr.

Jekyll—God knows what it was, but it was never Dr. Jekyll; and it is the belief of my heart that there was murder done.

The lawyer took that rude but weighty instrument into his hand, and balanced it. This masked figure that you saw, did you recognise it? You see, it was much of the same bigness; and it had the same quick, light way with it; and then who else could have got in by the laboratory door?

You have not forgot, sir, that at the time of the murder he had still the key with him? Utterson, if you ever met this Mr.

Evil, I fear, founded—evil was sure to come—of that connection. Well, let our name be vengeance. Call Bradshaw. Poole, here, and I are going to force our way into the cabinet.

If all is well, my shoulders are broad enough to bear the blame. Meanwhile, lest anything should really be amiss, or any malefactor seek to escape by the back, you and the boy must go round the corner with a pair of good sticks and take your post at the laboratory door.

We give you ten minutes to get to your stations. As Bradshaw left, the lawyer looked at his watch.

The scud had banked over the moon, and it was now quite dark. The wind, which only broke in puffs and draughts into that deep well of building, tossed the light of the candle to and fro about their steps, until they came into the shelter of the theatre, where they sat down silently to wait.

London hummed solemnly all around; but nearer at hand, the stillness was only broken by the sounds of a footfall moving to and fro along the cabinet floor.

But hark again, a little closer—put your heart in your ears, Mr. The steps fell lightly and oddly, with a certain swing, for all they went so slowly; it was different indeed from the heavy creaking tread of Henry Jekyll.

Utterson sighed. But now the ten minutes drew to an end. Poole disinterred the axe from under a stack of packing straw; the candle was set upon the nearest table to light them to the attack; and they drew near with bated breath to where that patient foot was still going up and down, up and down, in the quiet of the night.

Poole swung the axe over his shoulder; the blow shook the building, and the red baize door leaped against the lock and hinges.

A dismal screech, as of mere animal terror, rang from the cabinet. Up went the axe again, and again the panels crashed and the frame bounded; four times the blow fell; but the wood was tough and the fittings were of excellent workmanship; and it was not until the fifth, that the lock burst and the wreck of the door fell inwards on the carpet.

The besiegers, appalled by their own riot and the stillness that had succeeded, stood back a little and peered in. There lay the cabinet before their eyes in the quiet lamplight, a good fire glowing and chattering on the hearth, the kettle singing its thin strain, a drawer or two open, papers neatly set forth on the business table, and nearer the fire, the things laid out for tea; the quietest room, you would have said, and, but for the glazed presses full of chemicals, the most commonplace that night in London.

Right in the middle there lay the body of a man sorely contorted and still twitching. They drew near on tiptoe, turned it on its back and beheld the face of Edward Hyde.

Hyde is gone to his account; and it only remains for us to find the body of your master. The far greater proportion of the building was occupied by the theatre, which filled almost the whole ground storey and was lighted from above, and by the cabinet, which formed an upper storey at one end and looked upon the court.

A corridor joined the theatre to the door on the by-street; and with this the cabinet communicated separately by a second flight of stairs.

There were besides a few dark closets and a spacious cellar. All these they now thoroughly examined. Each closet needed but a glance, for all were empty, and all, by the dust that fell from their doors, had stood long unopened.

Nowhere was there any trace of Henry Jekyll, dead or alive. Poole stamped on the flags of the corridor.

It was locked; and lying near by on the flags, they found the key, already stained with rust. They mounted the stair in silence, and still with an occasional awestruck glance at the dead body, proceeded more thoroughly to examine the contents of the cabinet.

At one table, there were traces of chemical work, various measured heaps of some white salt being laid on glass saucers, as though for an experiment in which the unhappy man had been prevented.

There were several books on a shelf; one lay beside the tea things open, and Utterson was amazed to find it a copy of a pious work, for which Jekyll had several times expressed a great esteem, annotated, in his own hand with startling blasphemies.

Next, in the course of their review of the chamber, the searchers came to the cheval-glass, into whose depths they looked with an involuntary horror.

But it was so turned as to show them nothing but the rosy glow playing on the roof, the fire sparkling in a hundred repetitions along the glazed front of the presses, and their own pale and fearful countenances stooping to look in.

Next they turned to the business table. The lawyer unsealed it, and several enclosures fell to the floor. The first was a will, drawn in the same eccentric terms as the one which he had returned six months before, to serve as a testament in case of death and as a deed of gift in case of disappearance; but in place of the name of Edward Hyde, the lawyer, with indescribable amazement read the name of Gabriel John Utterson.

He looked at Poole, and then back at the paper, and last of all at the dead malefactor stretched upon the carpet. He cannot have been disposed of in so short a space; he must be still alive, he must have fled!

And then, why fled? O, we must be careful. I foresee that we may yet involve your master in some dire catastrophe.

Go then, and first read the narrative which Lanyon warned me he was to place in your hands; and if you care to hear more, turn to the confession of.

The lawyer put it in his pocket. If your master has fled or is dead, we may at least save his credit. It is now ten; I must go home and read these documents in quiet; but I shall be back before midnight, when we shall send for the police.

They went out, locking the door of the theatre behind them; and Utterson, once more leaving the servants gathered about the fire in the hall, trudged back to his office to read the two narratives in which this mystery was now to be explained.

On the ninth of January, now four days ago, I received by the evening delivery a registered envelope, addressed in the hand of my colleague and old school companion, Henry Jekyll.

I was a good deal surprised by this; for we were by no means in the habit of correspondence; I had seen the man, dined with him, indeed, the night before; and I could imagine nothing in our intercourse that should justify formality of registration.

The contents increased my wonder; for this is how the letter ran:. Lanyon, my life, my honour, my reason, are all at your mercy; if you fail me to-night, I am lost.

You might suppose, after this preface, that I am going to ask you for something dishonourable to grant. Judge for yourself. Poole, my butler, has his orders; you will find him waiting your arrival with a locksmith.

The door of my cabinet is then to be forced; and you are to go in alone; to open the glazed press letter E on the left hand, breaking the lock if it be shut; and to draw out, with all its contents as they stand , the fourth drawer from the top or which is the same thing the third from the bottom.

In my extreme distress of mind, I have a morbid fear of misdirecting you; but even if I am in error, you may know the right drawer by its contents: some powders, a phial and a paper book.

This drawer I beg of you to carry back with you to Cavendish Square exactly as it stands. You should be back, if you set out at once on the receipt of this, long before midnight; but I will leave you that amount of margin, not only in the fear of one of those obstacles that can neither be prevented nor foreseen, but because an hour when your servants are in bed is to be preferred for what will then remain to do.

At midnight, then, I have to ask you to be alone in your consulting room, to admit with your own hand into the house a man who will present himself in my name, and to place in his hands the drawer that you will have brought with you from my cabinet.

Then you will have played your part and earned my gratitude completely. Five minutes afterwards, if you insist upon an explanation, you will have understood that these arrangements are of capital importance; and that by the neglect of one of them, fantastic as they must appear, you might have charged your conscience with my death or the shipwreck of my reason.

Think of me at this hour, in a strange place, labouring under a blackness of distress that no fancy can exaggerate, and yet well aware that, if you will but punctually serve me, my troubles will roll away like a story that is told.

Serve me, my dear Lanyon and save. It is possible that the post-office may fail me, and this letter not come into your hands until to-morrow morning.

In that case, dear Lanyon, do my errand when it shall be most convenient for you in the course of the day; and once more expect my messenger at midnight.

It may then already be too late; and if that night passes without event, you will know that you have seen the last of Henry Jekyll.

Upon the reading of this letter, I made sure my colleague was insane; but till that was proved beyond the possibility of doubt, I felt bound to do as he requested.

The less I understood of this farrago, the less I was in a position to judge of its importance; and an appeal so worded could not be set aside without a grave responsibility.

The butler was awaiting my arrival; he had received by the same post as mine a registered letter of instruction, and had sent at once for a locksmith and a carpenter.

The tradesmen came while we were yet speaking; and we moved in a body to old Dr. The door was very strong, the lock excellent; the carpenter avowed he would have great trouble and have to do much damage, if force were to be used; and the locksmith was near despair.

The press marked E was unlocked; and I took out the drawer, had it filled up with straw and tied in a sheet, and returned with it to Cavendish Square.

Here I proceeded to examine its contents. The phial, to which I next turned my attention, might have been about half full of a blood-red liquor, which was highly pungent to the sense of smell and seemed to me to contain phosphorus and some volatile ether.

At the other ingredients I could make no guess. The book was an ordinary version book and contained little but a series of dates. These covered a period of many years, but I observed that the entries ceased nearly a year ago and quite abruptly.

How could the presence of these articles in my house affect either the honour, the sanity, or the life of my flighty colleague?

If his messenger could go to one place, why could he not go to another? And even granting some impediment, why was this gentleman to be received by me in secret?

The more I reflected the more convinced I grew that I was dealing with a case of cerebral disease; and though I dismissed my servants to bed, I loaded an old revolver, that I might be found in some posture of self-defence.

I went myself at the summons, and found a small man crouching against the pillars of the portico. These particulars struck me, I confess, disagreeably; and as I followed him into the bright light of the consulting room, I kept my hand ready on my weapon.

Here, at last, I had a chance of clearly seeing him. I had never set eyes on him before, so much was certain.

He was small, as I have said; I was struck besides with the shocking expression of his face, with his remarkable combination of great muscular activity and great apparent debility of constitution, and—last but not least—with the odd, subjective disturbance caused by his neighbourhood.

This bore some resemblance to incipient rigour, and was accompanied by a marked sinking of the pulse. At the time, I set it down to some idiosyncratic, personal distaste, and merely wondered at the acuteness of the symptoms; but I have since had reason to believe the cause to lie much deeper in the nature of man, and to turn on some nobler hinge than the principle of hatred.

This person who had thus, from the first moment of his entrance, struck in me what I can only describe as a disgustful curiosity was dressed in a fashion that would have made an ordinary person laughable; his clothes, that is to say, although they were of rich and sober fabric, were enormously too large for him in every measurement—the trousers hanging on his legs and rolled up to keep them from the ground, the waist of the coat below his haunches, and the collar sprawling wide upon his shoulders.

Strange to relate, this ludicrous accoutrement was far from moving me to laughter. These observations, though they have taken so great a space to be set down in, were yet the work of a few seconds.

My visitor was, indeed, on fire with sombre excitement. I put him back, conscious at his touch of a certain icy pang along my blood. Be seated, if you please.

I come here at the instance of your colleague, Dr. Henry Jekyll, on a piece of business of some moment; and I understood He sprang to it, and then paused, and laid his hand upon his heart; I could hear his teeth grate with the convulsive action of his jaws; and his face was so ghastly to see that I grew alarmed both for his life and reason.

He turned a dreadful smile to me, and as if with the decision of despair, plucked away the sheet. At sight of the contents, he uttered one loud sob of such immense relief that I sat petrified.

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