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1Mr. Utterson was sitting by his fireside one evening after dinner, when he was surprised to receive a visit from Poole.
2"Bless me, Poole, what brings you here?" he cried; and then taking a second look at him, "What ails you?" he added; "is
3the doctor ill?" "Mr. Utterson," said the man, "there is something wrong." "Take a seat, and here is a glass of wine for
4you," said the lawyer. "Now, take your time, and tell me plainly what you want." "You know the doctor's ways, sir,"
5replied Poole, "and how he shuts himself up. Well, he's shut up again in the cabinet; and I don't like it, sir--I wish I
6may die if I like it. Mr. Utterson, sir, I'm afraid." "Now, my good man," said the lawyer, "be explicit. What are you
7afraid of?" "I've been afraid for about a week," returned Poole, doggedly disregarding the question, "and I can bear it
8no more." The man's appearance amply bore out his words; his manner was altered for the worse; and except for the moment
9when he had first announced his terror, he had not once looked the lawyer in the face. Even now, he sat with the glass
10of wine untasted on his knee, and his eyes directed to a corner of the floor. "I can bear it no more," he repeated.
11"Come," said the lawyer, "I see you have some good reason, Poole; I see there is something seriously amiss. Try to tell
12me what it is." "I think there's been foul play," said Poole, hoarsely. "Foul play!" cried the lawyer, a good deal
13frightened and rather inclined to be irritated in consequence. "What foul play! What does the man mean?" "I daren't say,
14sir," was the answer; "but will you come along with me and see for yourself?" Mr. Utterson's only answer was to rise and
15get his hat and greatcoat; but he observed with wonder the greatness of the relief that appeared upon the butler's face,
16and perhaps with no less, that the wine was still untasted when he set it down to follow. It was a wild, cold,
17seasonable night of March, with a pale moon, lying on her back as though the wind had tilted her, and flying wrack of
18the most diaphanous and lawny texture. The wind made talking difficult, and flecked the blood into the face. It seemed
19to have swept the streets unusually bare of passengers, besides; for Mr. Utterson thought he had never seen that part of
20London so deserted. He could have wished it otherwise; never in his life had he been conscious of so sharp a wish to see
21and touch his fellow-creatures; for struggle as he might, there was borne in upon his mind a crushing anticipation of
22calamity. The square, when they got there, was full of wind and dust, and the thin trees in the garden were lashing
23themselves along the railing. Poole, who had kept all the way a pace or two ahead, now pulled up in the middle of the
24pavement, and in spite of the biting weather, took off his hat and mopped his brow with a red pocket-handkerchief. But
25for all the hurry of his coming, these were not the dews of exertion that he wiped away, but the moisture of some
26strangling anguish; for his face was white and his voice, when he spoke, harsh and broken. "Well, sir," he said, "here
27we are, and God grant there be nothing wrong." "Amen, Poole," said the lawyer. Thereupon the servant knocked in a very
28guarded manner; the door was opened on the chain; and a voice asked from within, "Is that you, Poole?" "It's all right,"
29said Poole. "Open the door." The hall, when they entered it, was brightly lighted up; the fire was built high; and about
30the hearth the whole of the servants, men and women, stood huddled together like a flock of sheep. At the sight of Mr.
31Utterson, the housemaid broke into hysterical whimpering; and the cook, crying out "Bless God! it's Mr. Utterson," ran
32forward as if to take him in her arms. "What, what? Are you all here?" said the lawyer peevishly. "Very irregular, very
33unseemly; your master would be far from pleased." "They're all afraid," said Poole. Blank silence followed, no one
34protesting; only the maid lifted her voice and now wept loudly. "Hold your tongue!" Poole said to her, with a ferocity
35of accent that testified to his own jangled nerves; and indeed, when the girl had so suddenly raised the note of her
36lamentation, they had all started and turned towards the inner door with faces of dreadful expectation. "And now,"
37continued the butler, addressing the knife-boy, "reach me a candle, and we'll get this through hands at once." And then
38he begged Mr. Utterson to follow him, and led the way to the back garden. "Now, sir," said he, "you come as gently as
39you can. I want you to hear, and I don't want you to be heard. And see here, sir, if by any chance he was to ask you in,
40don't go." Mr. Utterson's nerves, at this unlooked-for termination, gave a jerk that nearly threw him from his balance;
41but he recollected his courage and followed the butler into the laboratory building through the surgical theatre, with
42its lumber of crates and bottles, to the foot of the stair. Here Poole motioned him to stand on one side and listen;
43while he himself, setting down the candle and making a great and obvious call on his resolution, mounted the steps and
44knocked with a somewhat uncertain hand on the red baize of the cabinet door. "Mr. Utterson, sir, asking to see you," he
45called; and even as he did so, once more violently signed to the lawyer to give ear. A voice answered from within: "Tell
46him I cannot see anyone," it said complainingly. "Thank you, sir," said Poole, with a note of something like triumph in
47his voice; and taking up his candle, he led Mr. Utterson back across the yard and into the great kitchen, where the fire
48was out and the beetles were leaping on the floor. "Sir," he said, looking Mr. Utterson in the eyes, "Was that my
49master's voice?" "It seems much changed," replied the lawyer, very pale, but giving look for look. "Changed? Well, yes,
50I think so," said the butler. "Have I been twenty years in this man's house, to be deceived about his voice? No, sir;
51master's made away with; he was made away with eight days ago, when we heard him cry out upon the name of God; and who's
52in there instead of him, and why it stays there, is a thing that cries to Heaven, Mr. Utterson!" "That is a very strange
53tale, Poole; this is rather a wild tale my man," said Mr. Utterson, biting his finger. "Suppose it were as you suppose,
54supposing Dr. Jekyll to have been--well, murdered, what could induce the murderer to stay? That won't hold water; it
55doesn't commend itself to reason." "Well, Mr. Utterson, you are a hard man to satisfy, but I'll do it yet," said Poole.
56"All this last week (you must know) him, or it, whatever it is that lives in that cabinet, has been crying night and day
57for some sort of medicine and cannot get it to his mind. It was sometimes his way--the master's, that is--to write his
58orders on a sheet of paper and throw it on the stair. We've had nothing else this week back; nothing but papers, and a
59closed door, and the very meals left there to be smuggled in when nobody was looking. Well, sir, every day, ay, and
60twice and thrice in the same day, there have been orders and complaints, and I have been sent flying to all the
61wholesale chemists in town. Every time I brought the stuff back, there would be another paper telling me to return it,
62because it was not pure, and another order to a different firm. This drug is wanted bitter bad, sir, whatever for."
63"Have you any of these papers?" asked Mr. Utterson.
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