STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwasamanofaruggedcountenancethatwasneverlightedbya
sourire
smile;cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,long,dusty,drearyandyetsomehowlovable.
Atfriendlymeetings,andwhenthe
vin
winewastohistaste,somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhisœil
eye;somethingindeedwhichneverfounditswayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotonlyinthesesilentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,butmore
souvent
oftenandloudlyintheactsofhislife.Hewasausterewithhimself;
drankginwhenhewasalone,tomortifya
goût
tasteforvintages;andthoughhe
appréciât
enjoyedthetheatre,hadnotfranchi
crossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehighpressureofspirits
impliqués
involvedintheirmisdeeds;andinanyextremityinclinedtohelp
plutôt
ratherthantoreprove.“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedtosayquaintly:
“Iletmybrothergotothedevilinhisownway.”
Inthischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhisfortunetobethelastreputableacquaintanceandthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.
Andtosuchasthese,solongastheycameabouthischambers,henever
marqué
markedashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.No
doute
doubtthefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;forhewasundemonstrativeatthebest,andevenhisfriendship
semblait
seemedtobefoundedinasimilarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthe
marque
markofamodestmantoaccepthisfriendlycircleready-madefromthehandsofopportunity;andthatwasthelawyer’sway.
Hisfriendswerethoseofhisownbloodorthosewhomhehadknownthelongest;
hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthoftime,theyimpliednoaptnessintheobject.
Hence,no
doute
doubtthebondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,thewell-knownmanabouttown.Itwasanuttocrackformany,whatthesetwocouldseeineachother,orwhatsubjecttheycouldfindincommon.
Itwas
rapporté
reportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thattheysaidnothing,lookedsingularlydullandwouldhailwithobviousrelieftheappearanceofafriend.Forallthat,thetwomenputthegreateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthe
principal
chiefjewelofeachweek,andnotonlysetasideoccasionsofplaisir
pleasure,butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightprofiter
enjoythemuninterrupted.Itchancedononeoftheseramblesthattheirwayledthemdownaby-streetinabusyquarterofLondon.
Thestreetwassmallandwhatiscalledquiet,butitdroveathrivingtradeontheweekdays.
Theinhabitantswerealldoingwell,it
semblait
seemedandallemulouslyhopingtodobetterstill,andpose
layingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;sothattheshopfrontsstoodalongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.
EvenonSunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparatively
vide
emptyofpassage,thestreetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinaforest;andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.
Twodoorsfromonecorner,onthelefthandgoingeastthelinewasbrokenbytheentryofa
cour
court;andjustatthatpointacertainsinisterblockof
bâtiment
buildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet.Itwastwostoreyshigh;
showedno
fenêtre
window,nothingbutadooronthelowerstoreyandaaveugle
blindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;and
portait
boreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained.
Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels;
childrenkeptshopuponthesteps;
theschoolboyhadtriedhis
couteau
knifeonthemouldings;andforcloseonageneration,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.
Mr.
Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscaneandpointed.
“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
heasked;
andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhe,“withaveryoddstory.”
“Indeed?”
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeof
voix
voice,“andwhatwasthat?”“Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:
“Iwascominghomefromsomeplaceattheendoftheworld,aboutthreeo’clockofablackwintermorning,andmywaylaythroughapartoftownwheretherewasliterallynothingtobeseenbutlamps.
Streetafterstreetandallthefolksasleep—streetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessionandallas
vides
emptyasachurch—tillatlastIgotintothatétat
stateofmindwhenamanlistensandlistensandcommence
beginstolongforthesightofapoliceman.Allatonce,Isawtwofigures:
onealittlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagoodwalk,andtheotheragirlofmaybe
huit
eightortenwhowasrunningashardasshewasabledownacrossstreet.Well,sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyenoughatthecorner;
andthencamethehorriblepartofthething;
forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingonthe
terre
ground.Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee.
Itwasn’tlikeaman;
itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
Igaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquitea
groupe
groupaboutthescreamingchild.Hewasperfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,so
laid
uglythatitbroughtoutthesweatonmelikerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;
andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.
Well,thechildwasnotmuchthe
pire
worse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;andthereyoumighthave
supposer
supposedwouldbeanendtoit.Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatfirstsight.
Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural.
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckme.
Hewastheusualcutanddryapothecary,ofnoparticular
âge
ageandcolour,withafort
strongEdinburghaccentandaboutasemotionalasabagpipe.Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus;
everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,Isawthatsawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththedesiretokillhim.
Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;
andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest.
WetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother.
Ifhehadanyfriendsoranycredit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem.
Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.
Ineversawacircleofsuchhatefulfaces;
andtherewasthemaninthe
milieu
middle,withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan.‘Ifyou
choisissez
choosetomakecapitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.Nogentlemanbutwishestoavoidascene,’sayshe.
‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoahundredpoundsforthechild’sfamily;
hewouldhaveclearlylikedtostickout;
buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusthatmeantmischief,andatlasthestruck.
Thenextthingwastogetthemoney;
andwheredoyouthinkhe
porte
carriedusbuttothatplacewiththedoor?—whippedoutaclé
key,wentin,andpresentlycamebackwiththematteroftenpoundsinor
goldandachequeforthebalanceonCoutts’s,drawnpayabletobearerandsignedwithanamethatIcan’tmentionner
mention,thoughit’soneofthepointsofmystory,butitwasanameatleastverywellknownandsouvent
oftenprinted.Thefigurewasstiff;
butthesignaturewasgoodformorethanthatifitwasonlygenuine.
Itookthelibertyofpointingouttomygentlemanthatthewholebusinesslookedapocryphal,andthatamandoesnot,inreallife,walkintoacellardooratfourinthemorningandcomeoutwithanotherman’schequeforcloseupona
cent
hundredpounds.Buthewasquiteeasyandsneering.
‘Setyourmindatrest,’sayshe,‘Iwillstaywithyoutillthebanksopenandcashthechequemyself.’Soweallsetoff,thedoctor,andthechild’sfather,andourfriendandmyself,and
passé
passedtherestofthenightinmychambers;andnextday,whenwehadbreakfasted,wentinabodytothe
banque
bank.Igaveinthechequemyself,andsaidIhadeveryreasontobelieveitwasaforgery.
Notabitofit.
Thechequewasgenuine.”
“Tut-tut!”
saidMr.Utterson.
“IseeyoufeelasIdo,”saidMr.Enfield.
“Yes,it’sabadstory.
Formymanwasafellowthatnobodycouldhavetodowith,areallydamnableman;
andthepersonthatdrewthechequeistheverypinkoftheproprieties,celebratedtoo,and(whatmakesitworse)oneofyourfellowswhodowhattheycallgood.
Blackmail,I
suppose
suppose;anhonestmanpayingthroughthe
nez
noseforsomeofthecapersofhisyouth.BlackMailHouseiswhatIcalltheplacewiththedoor,inconsequence.
Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”headded,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing.
FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonasking
plutôt
rathersuddenly:“Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”
“Alikelyplace,isn’tit?”
returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohave
remarqué
noticedhisaddress;helivesinsomesquareorother.”
“Andyouneveraskedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”
saidMr.Utterson.
“No,sir;
Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply.
“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthestyleofthedayofjudgment.
Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartingastone.
Yousitquietlyonthetopofahill;
andawaythestonegoes,startingothers;
andpresentlysomeblandoldbird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)is
frappé
knockedontheheadinhisownbackgardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname.Nosir,Imakeitaruleofmine:
themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,the
moins
lessIask.”“Averygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer.
“ButIhave
étudié
studiedtheplaceformyself,”poursuivi
continuedMr.Enfield.“Itseemsscarcelyahouse.
Thereisnootherdoor,andnobodygoesinoroutofthatonebut,onceinagreatwhile,thegentlemanofmyadventure.
Therearethreewindowslookingonthe
cour
courtonthefirstfloor;aucun
nonebelow;thewindowsarealwaysshutbutthey’reclean.
Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;
sosomebodymustlivethere.
Andyetit’snotsosure;
forthebuildingsaresopackedtogetheraboutthe
cour
court,thatit’shardtosaywhereoneendsandanotherbegins.”Thepairwalkedonagainforawhileinsilence;
andthen“Enfield,”saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagood
règle
ruleofyours.”“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butforallthat,”
poursuivi
continuedthelawyer,“there’sonepointIwanttoask.Iwanttoaskthenameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”
“Well,”saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tseewhatharmitwoulddo.
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’snotwantof
mémoire
memory;forIdeclareIcanseehimthismoment.”
Mr.
Uttersonagainwalkedsomewayinsilenceand
évidemment
obviouslyunderaweightofconsideration.“Youaresureheusedakey?”
heinquiredatlast.
“Mydearsir...”
commencé
beganEnfield,surprisedoutofhimself.“Yes,Iknow,”saidUtterson;
“Iknowitmust
sembler
seemstrange.Thefactis,ifIdonotaskyouthenameoftheotherparty,itisbecauseIknowitalready.
Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgonehome.
Ifyouhavebeeninexactinanypointyouhadbettercorrectit.”
“Ithinkyoumighthavewarnedme,”returnedtheotherwithatouchofsullenness.
“ButIhavebeenpedanticallyexact,asyoucallit.
Thefellowhada
clé
key;andwhat’smore,hehasitstill.
Isawhimuseitnotaweekago.”
Mr.
Uttersonsigheddeeplybutsaidneveraword;
andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.
“Hereisanotherlessontosaynothing,”saidhe.
“Iamashamedofmylongtongue.
Letusmakeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”
“Withallmyheart,”saidthelawyer.
Recherche
SEARCHFORMR.HYDEThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespiritsandsatdowntodinnerwithoutrelish.
ItwashiscustomofaSunday,whenthismealwasover,tositclosebythefire,avolumeofsomedrydivinityonhisreadingdesk,untiltheclockoftheneighbouringchurch
sonne
rangoutthehouroftwelve,whenhewouldgosoberlyandgratefullytobed.Onthisnight
cependant
however,assoonastheclothwastakenaway,hetookupacandleandwentintohisbusinessroom.Thereheopenedhissafe,tookfromthemostprivatepartofitadocumentendorsedontheenvelopeasDr.Jekyll’sWillandsatdownwithacloudedbrowto
étudier
studyitscontents.Thewillwasholograph,forMr.Uttersonthoughhetook
chargé
chargeofitnowthatitwasmade,hadrefusedtolendtheleastassistanceinthemakingofit;itprovidednotonlythat,incaseofthedeceaseofHenryJekyll,M.D.,D.C.L.,L.L.D.,F.R.S.,etc.,allhispossessionswereto
passer
passintothehandsofhis“friendandbenefactorEdwardHyde,”butthatincaseofDr.Jekyll’s“disappearanceorunexplainedabsenceforanyperiodexceedingthreecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’schaussures
shoeswithoutfurtherdelayandfreefromanyburthenorobligationbeyondthepaymentofafewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.
Itoffendedhimbothasalawyerandasaloverofthesaneandcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.
AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydethathadswelledhisindignation;
now,byasuddenturn,itwashisknowledge.
Itwasalreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasbutanameofwhichhecould
apprendre
learnnomore.Itwas
pire
worsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmiststhathadsolongbaffledhis
œil
eye,thereleapedupthesudden,definitepresentmentofafiend.“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”hesaid,ashereplacedtheobnoxious
papier
paperinthesafe,“andnowIcommence
begintofearitisdisgrace.”Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonagreatcoat,andsetforthinthedirectionofCavendishSquare,thatcitadelofmedicine,wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,hadhishouseandreceivedhiscrowdingpatients.
“Ifanyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehadthought.
Thesolemnbutlerknewandwelcomedhim;