STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwasamanofaruggedcountenancethatwasneverlightedbyasmile;
cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,long,dusty,drearyandyetsomehowlovable.
At
venlige
friendlymeetings,andwhenthewinewastohistaste,somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhiseye;somethingindeedwhichneverfounditswayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotonlyinthese
tavse
silentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,butmoreoftenandloudlyintheactsofhislife.Hewasausterewithhimself;
drankginwhenhewasalone,tomortifyatasteforvintages;
andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,hadnotcrossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.
Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehigh
pres
pressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;andinanyextremityinclinedtohelpratherthantoreprove.
“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedtosayquaintly:
“Iletmybrothergotothe
djævlen
devilinhisownway.”Inthis
karakter
character,itwasfrequentlyhisformue
fortunetobethelastreputableacquaintanceandthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.Andtosuchasthese,solongastheycameabouthischambers,henevermarkedashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.
NodoubtthefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;
forhewasundemonstrativeatthebest,andevenhis
venskab
friendshipseemedtobefoundedinalignende
similarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthemarkofamodestmantoaccepthis
venlige
friendlycircleready-madefromthehandsofmulighed
opportunity;andthatwasthelawyer’sway.
Hisfriendswerethoseofhisownbloodorthosewhomhehadknownthelongest;
hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthoftime,theyimpliednoaptnessintheobject.
Hence,nodoubtthebondthat
forenede
unitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,thewell-knownmanabouttown.Itwasanutto
knække
crackformany,whatthesetwocouldseeineachother,orwhatemne
subjecttheycouldfindinfælles
common.ItwasreportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thattheysaidnothing,lookedsingularlydullandwouldhailwithobviousrelieftheappearanceofafriend.
Forallthat,thetwomenputthe
største
greateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthechiefjewelofeachweek,andnotonlysetasideoccasionsofpleasure,butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.Itchancedononeoftheseramblesthattheirwayledthemdownaby-streetinabusy
kvarter
quarterofLondon.Thestreetwassmallandwhatiscalledquiet,butitdroveathriving
handel
tradeontheweekdays.Theinhabitantswerealldoingwell,itseemedandallemulouslyhopingtodobetterstill,andlayingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;
sothattheshopfrontsstoodalongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.
Evenon
Søndag
Sunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestreetskinnede
shoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinaskov
forest;andwithitsfreshly
malede
paintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote
note,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.Twodoorsfromone
hjørne
corner,onthelefthandgoingeastthelinewasbrokenbytheentryofacourt;andjustatthatpointacertainsinister
blok
blockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet.Itwastwostoreyshigh;
showednowindow,nothingbutadooronthe
nederste
lowerstoreyandablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.
Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneither
klokke
bellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained.Trampsslouchedintotherecessand
ramte
struckmatchesonthepanels;childrenkeptshopuponthesteps;
theschoolboyhadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings;
andforcloseona
generation
generation,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.Mr.
Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformer
løftede
lifteduphiscaneandpointed.“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
heasked;
andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”
tilføjede
addedhe,“withaveryoddstory.”“Indeed?”
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?”
“Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:
“Iwascominghomefromsomeplaceattheendoftheworld,aboutthreeo’clockofablackwintermorning,andmywaylaythroughapartoftownwheretherewasliterallynothingtobeseenbutlamps.
Streetafterstreetandallthefolksasleep—streetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessionandallasemptyasachurch—tillatlastIgotintothatstateofmindwhenamanlistensandlistensandbeginstolongforthe
synet
sightofapoliceman.Allatonce,Isawtwofigures:
onealittlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagoodwalk,andtheotheragirlofmaybeeightortenwhowasrunningashardasshewasabledownacrossstreet.
Well,sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyenoughatthecorner;
andthencamethehorriblepartofthething;
forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingontheground.
Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee.
Itwasn’tlikeaman;
itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
Igaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmy
gentleman
gentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquiteagroupaboutthescreamingchild.Hewas
helt
perfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,souglythatitbroughtoutthesveden
sweatonmelikerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;
andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.
Well,thechildwasnotmuchtheworse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;
andthereyoumighthavesupposedwouldbeanendtoit.
Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
Ihadtakenaloathingtomy
gentleman
gentlemanatfirstsight.Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural.
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhat
ramte
struckme.Hewasthe
sædvanlige
usualcutanddryapothecary,ofnosærlig
particularageandcolour,withastrongEdinburghaccentandaboutasemotionalasabagpipe.Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus;
everytimehelookedatmy
fange
prisoner,Isawthatsawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththeønske
desiretokillhim.Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;
andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest.
WetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother.
Ifhehadanyfriendsorany
kredit
credit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem.Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.
Ineversawa
cirkel
circleofsuchhatefulfaces;andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan.
‘Ifyouchoosetomake
kapital
capitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.No
gentleman
gentlemanbutwishestoavoidascene,’sayshe.‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoahundredpoundsforthechild’sfamily;
hewouldhaveclearlylikedtostickout;
buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusthatmeantmischief,andatlasthe
slog
struck.Thenextthingwastogetthemoney;
andwheredoyouthinkhecarriedusbuttothatplacewiththedoor?—whippedoutakey,wentin,andpresentlycamebackwiththematteroftenpoundsingoldandachequeforthebalanceonCoutts’s,
trukket
drawnpayabletobearerandsignedwithanamethatIcan’tmention,thoughit’soneofthepointsofmystory,butitwasanameatleastverywellknownandoftenprinted.Thefigurewasstiff;
butthesignaturewasgoodformorethanthatifitwasonlygenuine.
Itookthelibertyofpointingouttomy
gentleman
gentlemanthatthewholebusinesslookedapocryphal,andthatamandoesnot,inreallife,walkintoacellardooratfourinthemorningandcomeoutwithanotherman’schequeforcloseuponahundredpounds.Buthewasquiteeasyandsneering.
‘Setyourmindatrest,’sayshe,‘Iwillstaywithyoutillthebanksopenandcashthechequemyself.’Soweallsetoff,thedoctor,andthechild’sfather,andourfriendandmyself,andpassedtherestofthenightinmychambers;
andnextday,whenwehadbreakfasted,wentinabodytothebank.
Igaveinthechequemyself,andsaidIhadeveryreasontobelieveitwasaforgery.
Notabitofit.
Thechequewasgenuine.”
“Tut-tut!”
saidMr.Utterson.
“IseeyoufeelasIdo,”saidMr.Enfield.
“Yes,it’sabadstory.
Formymanwasa
fyr
fellowthatnobodycouldhavetodowith,areallydamnableman;andthepersonthat
trak
drewthechequeistheverypinkoftheproprieties,fejret
celebratedtoo,and(whatmakesitworse)oneofyourfellowswhodowhattheycallgood.Blackmail,Isuppose;
anhonestmanpayingthroughthenoseforsomeofthecapersofhisyouth.
Black
Mail
MailHouseiswhatIcalltheplacewiththedoor,inconsequence.Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”he
tilføjede
added,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing.FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonaskingrathersuddenly:
“Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”
“A
sandsynligt
likelyplace,isn’tit?”returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohavenoticedhisaddress;
helivesinsome
torv
squareorother.”“Andyouneveraskedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”
saidMr.Utterson.
“No,sir;
Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply.
“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthe
stil
styleofthedayofjudgment.Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartinga
sten
stone.Yousitquietlyonthetopofa
bakke
hill;andawaythestonegoes,startingothers;
andpresentlysomeblandold
fugl
bird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)isknockedontheheadinhisownbackgardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname.Nosir,Imakeitaruleofmine:
themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,thelessIask.”
“Averygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer.
“ButIhavestudiedtheplaceformyself,”continuedMr.Enfield.
“Itseemsscarcelyahouse.
Thereisnootherdoor,andnobodygoesinoroutofthatonebut,onceinagreatwhile,the
gentleman
gentlemanofmyadventure.Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtonthefirstfloor;
none
nedenfor
below;thewindowsarealwaysshutbutthey’reclean.
Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;
sosomebodymustlivethere.
Andyetit’snotsosure;
forthebuildingsareso
pakket
packedtogetheraboutthecourt,thatit’shardtosaywhereoneendsandanotherbegins.”The
parret
pairwalkedonagainforawhileinstilhed
silence;andthen“Enfield,”saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagoodruleofyours.”
“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butforallthat,”continuedthelawyer,“there’sonepointIwanttoask.
Iwanttoaskthenameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”
“Well,”saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tseewhat
skade
harmitwoulddo.ItwasamanofthenameofHyde.”
“Hm,”saidMr.Utterson.
“Whatsortofamanishetosee?”
“Heisnoteasytodescribe.
Thereissomethingwrongwithhisappearance;
somethingdispleasing,somethingdown-rightdetestable.
IneversawamanIsodisliked,andyetIscarceknowwhy.
Hemustbedeformedsomewhere;
hegivesastrongfeelingofdeformity,althoughIcouldn’tspecifythepoint.
He’sanextraordinarylookingman,andyetIreallycannamenothingoutoftheway.
No,sir;
Icanmakenohandofit;
Ican’tdescribehim.
Andit’snotwantofmemory;
forIdeclareIcanseehimthismoment.”
Mr.
Uttersonagainwalkedsomewayin
stilhed
silenceandobviouslyunderavægt
weightofconsideration.“Youaresureheusedakey?”
heinquiredatlast.
“Mydearsir...”
beganEnfield,surprisedoutofhimself.
“Yes,Iknow,”saidUtterson;
“Iknowitmustseemstrange.
Thefactis,ifIdonotaskyouthenameoftheotherparty,itisbecauseIknowitalready.
Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgonehome.
Ifyouhavebeeninexactinanypointyouhadbetter
rette
correctit.”“Ithinkyoumighthave
advaret
warnedme,”returnedtheotherwithatouchofsullenness.“ButIhavebeenpedanticallyexact,asyoucallit.
Thefellowhadakey;
andwhat’smore,hehasitstill.
Isawhimuseitnotaweekago.”
Mr.
Uttersonsighed
dybt
deeplybutsaidneveraword;andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.
“Hereisanotherlessontosaynothing,”saidhe.
“Iam
skammer
ashamedofmylongtongue.Letusmakeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”
“Withallmyheart,”saidthelawyer.
SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespiritsandsatdowntodinnerwithoutrelish.
ItwashiscustomofaSunday,whenthis
måltid
mealwasover,tositclosebythefire,avolumeofsometørre
drydivinityonhisreadingdesk,untiltheclockoftheneighbouringchurchrangoutthehouroftwelve,whenhewouldgosoberlyandgratefullytobed.Onthisnighthowever,assoonastheclothwastakenaway,hetookupacandleandwentintohisbusinessroom.
Thereheopenedhissafe,tookfromthemostprivatepartofitadocumentendorsedontheenvelopeasDr.Jekyll’sWillandsatdownwithacloudedbrowtostudyitscontents.
Thewillwasholograph,forMr.Uttersonthoughhetookchargeofitnowthatitwasmade,hadrefusedtolendtheleastassistanceinthemakingofit;
itprovidednotonlythat,incaseofthedeceaseofHenryJekyll,M.D.,D.C.L.,L.L.D.,F.R.S.,etc.,allhispossessionsweretopassintothehandsofhis“friendandbenefactorEdwardHyde,”butthatincaseofDr.Jekyll’s“disappearanceorunexplainedabsenceforany
periode
periodexceedingthreecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’sshoeswithoutfurtherdelayandfreefromanyburthenorobligationbeyondthepaymentofafewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.
Itoffendedhimbothasalawyerandasa
elsker
loverofthesaneandcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydethathadswelledhisindignation;
now,bya
pludselig
suddenturn,itwashisviden
knowledge.Itwasalreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasbutanameofwhichhecouldlearnnomore.
Itwasworsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;
andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmiststhathadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupthesudden,definitepresentmentofafiend.
“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”hesaid,ashereplacedtheobnoxiouspaperinthesafe,“andnowIbegintofearitisdisgrace.”
Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonagreatcoat,andsetforthinthe
retning
directionofCavendishSquare,thatcitadelofmedicine,wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,hadhishouseandmodtog
receivedhiscrowdingpatients.“Ifanyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehadthought.
Thesolemnbutlerknewandwelcomedhim;