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1"Well, it was this way," returned Mr. Enfield: "I was coming home from some place at the end of the world, about three
2o'clock of a black winter morning, and my way lay through a part of town where there was literally nothing to be seen
3but lamps. Street after street and all the folks asleep--street after street, all lighted up as if for a procession and
4all 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
5for the sight of a policeman. All at once, I saw two figures: one a little man who was stumping along eastward at a good
6walk, 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,
7the two ran into one another naturally enough at the corner; and then came the horrible part of the thing; for the man
8trampled calmly over the child's body and left her screaming on the ground. It sounds nothing to hear, but it was
9hellish to see. It wasn't like a man; it was like some damned Juggernaut. I gave a few halloa, took to my heels,
10collared my gentleman, and brought him back to where there was already quite a group about the screaming child. He was
11perfectly cool and made no resistance, but gave me one look, so ugly that it brought out the sweat on me like running.
12The people who had turned out were the girl's own family; and pretty soon, the doctor, for whom she had been sent, put
13in his appearance. Well, the child was not much the worse, more frightened, according to the Sawbones; and there you
14might have supposed would be an end to it. But there was one curious circumstance. I had taken a loathing to my
15gentleman at first sight. So had the child's family, which was only natural. But the doctor's case was what struck me.
16He was the usual cut and dry apothecary, of no particular age and colour, with a strong Edinburgh accent and about as
17emotional as a bagpipe. Well, sir, he was like the rest of us; every time he looked at my prisoner, I saw that Sawbones
18turn 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
19killing being out of the question, we did the next best. We told the man we could and would make such a scandal out of
20this as should make his name stink from one end of London to the other. If he had any friends or any credit, we
21undertook that he should lose them. And all the time, as we were pitching it in red hot, we were keeping the women off
22him 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
23in the middle, with a kind of black sneering coolness--frightened too, I could see that--but carrying it off, sir,
24really like Satan. 'If you choose to make capital out of this accident,' said he, 'I am naturally helpless. No gentleman
25but wishes to avoid a scene,' says he. 'Name your figure.' Well, we screwed him up to a hundred pounds for the child's
26family; he would have clearly liked to stick out; but there was something about the lot of us that meant mischief, and
27at last he struck. The next thing was to get the money; and where do you think he carried us but to that place with the
28door?--whipped out a key, went in, and presently came back with the matter of ten pounds in gold and a cheque for the
29balance on Coutts's, drawn payable to bearer and signed with a name that I can't mention, though it's one of the points
30of my story, but it was a name at least very well known and often printed. The figure was stiff; but the signature was
31good for more than that if it was only genuine. I took the liberty of pointing out to my gentleman that the whole
32business looked apocryphal, and that a man does not, in real life, walk into a cellar door at four in the morning and
33come out with another man's cheque for close upon a hundred pounds. But he was quite easy and sneering. 'Set your mind
34at rest,' says he, 'I will stay with you till the banks open and cash the cheque myself.' So we all set off, the doctor,
35and the child's father, and our friend and myself, and passed the rest of the night in my chambers; and next day, when
36we had breakfasted, went in a body to the bank. I gave in the cheque myself, and said I had every reason to believe it
37was a forgery. Not a bit of it. The cheque was genuine." "Tut-tut!" said Mr. Utterson. "I see you feel as I do," said
38Mr. Enfield. "Yes, it's a bad story. For my man was a fellow that nobody could have to do with, a really damnable man;
39and the person that drew the cheque is the very pink of the proprieties, celebrated too, and (what makes it worse) one
40of your fellows who do what they call good. Blackmail, I suppose; an honest man paying through the nose for some of the
41capers of his youth. Black Mail House is what I call the place with the door, in consequence. Though even that, you
42know, is far from explaining all," he added, and with the words fell into a vein of musing. From this he was recalled by
43Mr. Utterson asking rather suddenly: "And you don't know if the drawer of the cheque lives there?" "A likely place,
44isn't it?" returned Mr. Enfield. "But I happen to have noticed his address; he lives in some square or other." "And you
45never asked about the--place with the door?" said Mr. Utterson. "No, sir; I had a delicacy," was the reply. "I feel very
46strongly about putting questions; it partakes too much of the style of the day of judgment. You start a question, and
47it's like starting a stone. You sit quietly on the top of a hill; and away the stone goes, starting others; and
48presently some bland old bird (the last you would have thought of) is knocked on the head in his own back garden and the
49family have to change their name. No sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks like Queer Street, the less I
50ask." "A very good rule, too," said the lawyer. "But I have studied the place for myself," continued Mr. Enfield. "It
51seems scarcely a house. There is no other door, and nobody goes in or out of that one but, once in a great while, the
52gentleman of my adventure. There are three windows looking on the court on the first floor; none below; the windows are
53always shut but they're clean. And then there is a chimney which is generally smoking; so somebody must live there. And
54yet it's not so sure; for the buildings are so packed together about the court, that it's hard to say where one ends and
55another begins." The pair walked on again for a while in silence; and then "Enfield," said Mr. Utterson, "that's a good
56rule of yours." "Yes, I think it is," returned Enfield. "But for all that," continued the lawyer, "there's one point I
57want to ask. I want to ask the name of that man who walked over the child." "Well," said Mr. Enfield, "I can't see what
58harm it would do. It was a man of the name of Hyde." "Hm," said Mr. Utterson. "What sort of a man is he to see?" "He is
59not easy to describe. There is something wrong with his appearance; something displeasing, something down-right
60detestable. I never saw a man I so disliked, and yet I scarce know why. He must be deformed somewhere; he gives a strong
61feeling of deformity, although I couldn't specify the point. He's an extraordinary looking man, and yet I really can
62name nothing out of the way. No, sir; I can make no hand of it; I can't describe him. And it's not want of memory; for I
63declare I can see him this moment." Mr. Utterson again walked some way in silence and obviously under a weight of
64consideration. "You are sure he used a key?" he inquired at last. "My dear sir..." began Enfield, surprised out of
65himself.
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