STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwasamanofaruggedcountenancethatwasneverlightedbyasmile;
cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,long,dusty,drearyandyetsomehowlovable.
Atfriendlymeetings,andwhenthewinewastohistaste,somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhiseye;
something
inderdaad
indeedwhichneverfounditswayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotonlyinthesestille
silentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,butmoreoftenandloudlyintheactsofhislife.Hewasausterewithhimself;
drankginwhenhewasalone,tomortifyatasteforvintages;
andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,hadnotcrossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.
Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehigh
druk
pressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;andinanyextremityinclinedtohelpratherthantoreprove.
“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedtosayquaintly:
“Iletmybrothergotothe
duivel
devilinhisownway.”Inthischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhis
fortuin
fortunetobethelastreputableacquaintanceandthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.Andtosuchasthese,solongastheycameabouthischambers,henevermarkedashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.
NodoubtthefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;
forhewasundemonstrativeatthebest,andevenhis
vriendschap
friendshipseemedtobefoundedinasoortgelijke
similarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthemarkofamodestmantoaccepthis
vriendelijke
friendlycircleready-madefromthehandsofgelegenheid
opportunity;andthatwasthelawyer’sway.
Hisfriendswerethoseofhisownbloodorthosewhomhehadknownthelongest;
hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthoftime,theyimpliednoaptnessinthe
object
object.Hence,nodoubtthe
band
bondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,thewell-knownmanabouttown.Itwasanutto
kraken
crackformany,whatthesetwocouldseeineachother,orwhatonderwerp
subjecttheycouldfindincommon.ItwasreportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thattheysaidnothing,lookedsingularlydullandwouldhailwithobviousrelieftheappearanceofafriend.
Forallthat,thetwomenputthe
grootste
greateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthechiefjewelofeachweek,andnotonlysetopzij
asideoccasionsofpleasure,butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.Itchancedononeoftheseramblesthattheirwayledthemdownaby-streetinabusy
wijk
quarterofLondon.Thestreetwassmallandwhatiscalledquiet,butitdroveathriving
handel
tradeontheweekdays.Theinhabitantswerealldoingwell,itseemedandallemulouslyhopingtodobetterstill,andlayingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;
sothattheshopfrontsstoodalongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.
Evenon
Zondag
Sunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestreetscheen
shoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinabos
forest;andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyof
noot
note,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.Twodoorsfromone
hoek
corner,onthelefthandgoingeastthelinewasbrokenbytheentryofacourt;andjustatthatpointacertainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet.
Itwastwostoreyshigh;
showednowindow,nothingbutadooronthelowerstoreyandablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;
andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.
Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained.
Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels;
childrenkeptshopuponthesteps;
theschoolboyhadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings;
andforcloseona
generatie
generation,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.Mr.
Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformer
tilde
lifteduphiscaneandpointed.“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
heasked;
andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”
voegde
addedhe,“withaveryvreemd
oddstory.”“Indeed?”
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?”
“Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:
“Iwascominghomefromsomeplaceattheendoftheworld,aboutthreeo’clockofablackwintermorning,andmywaylaythroughapartoftownwheretherewasliterallynothingtobeseenbutlamps.
Streetafterstreetandallthefolksasleep—streetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessionandallasemptyasachurch—tillatlastIgotintothatstateofmindwhenamanlistensandlistensandbeginstolongforthesightofapoliceman.
Allatonce,Isawtwofigures:
onealittlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagoodwalk,andtheotheragirlofmaybeeightortenwhowasrunningashardasshewasabledownacrossstreet.
Well,sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyenoughatthe
hoek
corner;andthencamethe
vreselijke
horriblepartofthething;forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandlefther
schreeuwend
screamingontheground.Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee.
Itwasn’tlikeaman;
itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
Igaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquiteagroupaboutthe
schreeuwen
screamingchild.Hewasperfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,souglythatitbroughtoutthe
zweet
sweatonmelikerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;
andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.
Well,thechildwasnotmuchtheworse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;
andthereyoumighthavesupposedwouldbeanendtoit.
Buttherewasone
merkwaardige
curiouscircumstance.Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatfirst
gezicht
sight.Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural.
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckme.
Hewasthe
gebruikelijke
usualcutanddryapothecary,ofnobepaalde
particularageandcolour,withastrongEdinburghaccentandaboutasemotionalasabagpipe.Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus;
everytimehelookedatmy
gevangene
prisoner,Isawthatsawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththeverlangen
desiretokillhim.Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;
andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest.
WetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother.
Ifhehadanyfriendsorany
krediet
credit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem.Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.
Ineversawa
cirkel
circleofsuchhatefulfaces;andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan.
‘Ifyouchoosetomake
kapitaal
capitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.Nogentlemanbutwishesto
vermijden
avoidascene,’sayshe.‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoahundredpoundsforthechild’sfamily;
hewouldhave
duidelijk
clearlylikedtostickout;buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusthatmeantmischief,andatlasthestruck.
Thenextthingwastogetthemoney;
andwheredoyouthinkhecarriedusbuttothatplacewiththedoor?—whippedoutakey,wentin,andpresentlycamebackwiththematteroftenpoundsingoldandachequeforthe
saldo
balanceonCoutts’s,drawnpayabletobearerandsignedwithanamethatIcan’tmention,thoughit’soneofthepointsofmystory,butitwasanameatleastverywellknownandoftenprinted.Thefigurewasstiff;
butthesignaturewasgoodformorethanthatifitwasonlygenuine.
Itookthelibertyofpointingouttomygentlemanthatthewholebusinesslookedapocryphal,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
kerel
fellowthatnobodycouldhavetodowith,areallydamnableman;andthepersonthatdrewthechequeisthevery
roze
pinkoftheproprieties,celebratedtoo,and(whatmakesitworse)oneofyourfellowswhodowhattheycallgood.Blackmail,Isuppose;
anhonestmanpayingthroughthenoseforsomeofthecapersofhis
jeugd
youth.BlackMailHouseiswhatIcalltheplacewiththedoor,inconsequence.
Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”he
voegde
added,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing.FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonaskingrathersuddenly:
“Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”
“Alikelyplace,isn’tit?”
returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohavenoticedhisaddress;
helivesinsome
plein
squareorother.”“Andyouneveraskedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”
saidMr.Utterson.
“No,sir;
Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply.
“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthe
stijl
styleofthedayofjudgment.Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartinga
steen
stone.Yousitquietlyonthetopofa
heuvel
hill;andawaythestonegoes,startingothers;
andpresentlysomeblandold
vogel
bird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)isknockedontheheadinhisownbackgardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname.Nosir,Imakeitaruleofmine:
themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,thelessIask.”
“Averygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer.
“ButIhavestudiedtheplaceformyself,”continuedMr.Enfield.
“Itseemsscarcelyahouse.
Thereisnootherdoor,andnobodygoesinoroutofthatonebut,onceinagreatwhile,thegentlemanofmyadventure.
Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtonthefirstfloor;
nonebelow;
thewindowsarealwaysshutbutthey’reclean.
Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;
sosomebodymustlivethere.
Andyetit’snotsosure;
forthebuildingsaresopackedtogetheraboutthecourt,thatit’shardtosaywhereoneendsandanotherbegins.”
The
paar
pairwalkedonagainforawhileinstilte
silence;andthen“Enfield,”saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagoodruleofyours.”
“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butforallthat,”continuedthelawyer,“there’sonepointIwanttoask.
Iwanttoaskthenameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”
“Well,”saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tseewhat
kwaad
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
stilte
silenceandobviouslyunderagewicht
weightofconsideration.“Youaresureheusedakey?”
heinquiredatlast.
“Mydearsir...”
beganEnfield,surprisedoutofhimself.
“Yes,Iknow,”saidUtterson;
“Iknowitmustseemstrange.
Thefactis,ifIdonotaskyouthenameoftheotherparty,itisbecauseIknowitalready.
Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgonehome.
Ifyouhavebeeninexactinanypointyouhadbetter
corrigeren
correctit.”“Ithinkyoumighthavewarnedme,”returnedtheotherwithatouchofsullenness.
“ButIhavebeenpedanticallyexact,asyoucallit.
The
kerel
fellowhadakey;andwhat’smore,hehasitstill.
Isawhimuseitnotaweekago.”
Mr.
Uttersonsighed
diep
deeplybutsaidneveraword;andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.
“Hereisanother
les
lessontosaynothing,”saidhe.“Iam
schaam
ashamedofmylongtongue.Letusmakeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”
“Withallmyheart,”saidthelawyer.
SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespiritsandsatdowntodinnerwithoutrelish.
Itwashiscustomofa
Zondag
Sunday,whenthismealwasover,tositclosebythefire,avolumeofsomedroge
drydivinityonhisreadingdesk,untiltheclockoftheneighbouringchurchrangoutthehouroftwelve,whenhewouldgosoberlyandgratefullytobed.Onthisnighthowever,assoonastheclothwastakenaway,hetookupacandleandwentintohisbusinessroom.
Thereheopenedhissafe,tookfromthemostprivatepartofitadocumentendorsedontheenvelopeasDr.Jekyll’sWillandsatdownwithacloudedbrowtostudyitscontents.
Thewillwasholograph,forMr.Uttersonthoughhetookchargeofitnowthatitwasmade,had
geweigerd
refusedtolendtheleastassistanceinthemakingofit;itprovidednotonlythat,incaseofthedeceaseofHenryJekyll,M.D.,D.C.L.,L.L.D.,F.R.S.,etc.,allhispossessionsweretopassintothehandsofhis“friendandbenefactorEdwardHyde,”butthatincaseofDr.Jekyll’s“disappearanceorunexplainedabsenceforany
periode
periodexceedingthreecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’sshoeswithoutfurtherdelayandfreefromanyburthenorobligationbuiten
beyondthepaymentofafewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.
Itoffendedhimbothasalawyerandasa
liefhebber
loverofthesaneandcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydethathadswelledhisindignation;
now,bya
plotselinge
suddenturn,itwashiskennis
knowledge.Itwasalreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasbutanameofwhichhecouldlearnnomore.
Itwasworsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;
andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmiststhathadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupthe
plotselinge
sudden,definitepresentmentofafiend.“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”hesaid,ashereplacedtheobnoxiouspaperinthesafe,“andnowIbegintofearitisdisgrace.”
Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonagreatcoat,andsetforthinthedirectionofCavendish
Square
Square,thatcitadelofmedicine,wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,hadhishouseandontving
receivedhiscrowdingpatients.“Ifanyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehadthought.
Thesolemnbutlerknewandwelcomedhim;