STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwasamanofaruggedcountenancethatwasneverlightedbyasmile;
cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,long,dusty,drearyandyet
nekako
somehowlovable.Atfriendlymeetings,andwhenthewinewastohistaste,somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhiseye;
somethingindeedwhichneverfounditswayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotonlyinthesesilentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,butmoreoftenandloudlyintheactsofhislife.
Hewasausterewithhimself;
drankginwhenhewasalone,tomortifyatasteforvintages;
andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,hadnotcrossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.
Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehighpressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;
andinanyextremityinclinedtohelpratherthantoreprove.
“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedtosayquaintly:
“Iletmybrothergotothedevilinhisownway.”
Inthischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhisfortunetobethelastreputableacquaintanceandthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.
Andtosuchasthese,solongastheycameabouthischambers,henevermarkedashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.
NodoubtthefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;
forhewasundemonstrativeatthebest,andevenhis
prijateljstvo
friendshipseemedtobefoundedinasimilarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthemarkofamodestmantoaccepthisfriendly
krog
circleready-madefromthehandsofopportunity;andthatwasthelawyer’sway.
Hisfriendswerethoseofhisownbloodorthosewhomhehadknownthelongest;
hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthoftime,theyimpliednoaptnessintheobject.
Hence,nodoubtthebondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,thewell-knownmanabouttown.
Itwasanuttocrackformany,whatthesetwocouldseeineachother,orwhat
temo
subjecttheycouldfindincommon.ItwasreportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheirSundaywalks,thattheysaidnothing,lookedsingularlydullandwouldhailwithobviousrelieftheappearanceofafriend.
Forallthat,thetwomenputthegreateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthechiefjewelofeachweek,andnotonlysetasideoccasionsofpleasure,butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.
Itchancedononeoftheseramblesthattheirwayledthemdownaby-streetinabusyquarterofLondon.
Thestreetwassmallandwhatiscalledquiet,butitdroveathriving
trgovino
tradeontheweekdays.Theinhabitantswerealldoingwell,itseemedandallemulouslyhopingtodobetterstill,andlayingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;
sothattheshopfrontsstoodalongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.
Evenon
Nedeljo
Sunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestreetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinagozdu
forest;andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.
Twodoorsfromonecorner,onthelefthandgoingeastthelinewasbrokenbytheentryofacourt;
andjustatthatpointacertainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet.
Itwastwostoreyshigh;
showednowindow,nothingbutadooronthelowerstoreyandablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;
andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.
Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained.
Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels;
childrenkeptshopuponthesteps;
theschoolboyhadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings;
andforcloseonageneration,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.
Mr.
Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscaneandpointed.
“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
heasked;
andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhe,“withavery
nenavadno
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
vogalu
corner;andthencamethehorriblepartofthething;
forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingontheground.
Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee.
Itwasn’tlikeaman;
itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
Igaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmy
gospod
gentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquiteagroupaboutthescreamingchild.Hewas
popolnoma
perfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,souglythatitbroughtouttheznoj
sweatonmelikerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;
andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.
Well,thechildwasnotmuchtheworse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;
andthereyoumighthavesupposedwouldbeanendtoit.
Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatfirst
pogled
sight.Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural.
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckme.
Hewastheusualcutanddryapothecary,ofnoparticularageandcolour,withastrongEdinburghaccentandaboutasemotionalasabagpipe.
Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus;
everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,Isawthatsawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththedesiretokillhim.
Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;
andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest.
WetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother.
Ifhehadanyfriendsoranycredit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem.
Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.
Ineversawa
kroga
circleofsuchhatefulfaces;andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan.
‘Ifyouchoosetomakecapitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.
No
gospod
gentlemanbutwishestoavoidascene,’sayshe.‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoahundredpoundsforthechild’sfamily;
hewouldhave
očitno
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.
Formymanwasafellowthatnobodycouldhavetodowith,areallydamnableman;
andthepersonthatdrewthechequeistheverypinkoftheproprieties,celebratedtoo,and(whatmakesitworse)oneofyourfellowswhodowhattheycallgood.
Blackmail,Isuppose;
anhonestmanpayingthroughthenoseforsomeofthecapersofhisyouth.
BlackMailHouseiswhatIcalltheplacewiththedoor,inconsequence.
Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”headded,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing.
FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonaskingrathersuddenly:
“Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”
“Alikelyplace,isn’tit?”
returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohavenoticedhisaddress;
helivesinsomesquareorother.”
“Andyouneveraskedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”
saidMr.Utterson.
“No,sir;
Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply.
“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthestyleofthedayofjudgment.
Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartingastone.
Yousit
tiho
quietlyonthetopofahill;andawaythe
kamen
stonegoes,startingothers;andpresentlysomeblandoldbird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)isknockedontheheadinhisownback
vrtu
gardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname.Nosir,Imakeitaruleofmine:
themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,thelessIask.”
“Averygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer.
“ButIhavestudiedtheplaceformyself,”continuedMr.Enfield.
“Itseemsscarcelyahouse.
Thereisnootherdoor,andnobodygoesinoroutofthatonebut,onceinagreatwhile,the
gospod
gentlemanofmyadventure.Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtonthefirstfloor;
none
spodaj
below;thewindowsarealwaysshutbutthey’reclean.
Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;
sosomebodymustlivethere.
Andyetit’snotsosure;
forthebuildingsaresopackedtogetheraboutthecourt,thatit’shardtosaywhereoneendsandanotherbegins.”
The
par
pairwalkedonagainforawhileinsilence;andthen“Enfield,”saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagoodruleofyours.”
“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butforallthat,”continuedthelawyer,“there’sonepointIwanttoask.
Iwanttoaskthenameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”
“Well,”saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tseewhat
škodo
harmitwoulddo.ItwasamanofthenameofHyde.”
“Hm,”saidMr.Utterson.
“Whatsortofamanishetosee?”
“Heisnoteasytodescribe.
Thereissomethingwrongwithhisappearance;
somethingdispleasing,somethingdown-rightdetestable.
IneversawamanIsodisliked,andyetIscarceknowwhy.
Hemustbedeformedsomewhere;
hegivesastrongfeelingofdeformity,
čeprav
althoughIcouldn’tspecifythepoint.He’sanextraordinarylookingman,andyetIreallycannamenothingoutoftheway.
No,sir;
Icanmakenohandofit;
Ican’tdescribehim.
Andit’snotwantofmemory;
forIdeclareIcanseehimthismoment.”
Mr.
Uttersonagainwalkedsomewayinsilenceandobviouslyundera
težo
weightofconsideration.“Youaresureheusedakey?”
heinquiredatlast.
“Mydearsir...”
beganEnfield,surprisedoutofhimself.
“Yes,Iknow,”saidUtterson;
“Iknowitmustseemstrange.
Thefactis,ifIdonotaskyouthenameoftheotherparty,itisbecauseIknowitalready.
Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgonehome.
Ifyouhavebeeninexactinanypointyouhadbetter
popraviti
correctit.”“Ithinkyoumighthavewarnedme,”returnedtheotherwithatouchofsullenness.
“ButIhavebeenpedanticallyexact,asyoucallit.
Thefellowhadakey;
andwhat’smore,hehasitstill.
Isawhimuseitnotaweekago.”
Mr.
Uttersonsighed
globoko
deeplybutsaidneveraword;andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.
“Hereisanother
lekcija
lessontosaynothing,”saidhe.“Iam
sram
ashamedofmylongtongue.Letusmakeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”
“Withallmyheart,”saidthelawyer.
SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespiritsandsatdowntodinnerwithoutrelish.
Itwashiscustomofa
Nedeljo
Sunday,whenthismealwasover,tositclosebythefire,avolumeofsomedrydivinityonhisreadingmizi
desk,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
obdobje
periodexceedingthreecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’sshoeswithoutfurtherdelayandfreefromanyburthenorobligationbeyondthepaymentofafewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.
Itoffendedhimbothasalawyerandasaloverofthesaneandcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.
AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydethathadswelledhisindignation;
now,byasuddenturn,itwashisknowledge.
Itwasalreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasbutanameofwhichhecouldlearnnomore.
Itwasworsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;
andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmiststhathadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupthe
nenadno
sudden,definitepresentmentofafiend.“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”hesaid,ashereplacedtheobnoxiouspaperinthesafe,“andnowIbegintofearitisdisgrace.”
Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonagreatcoat,andsetforthinthedirectionofCavendishSquare,thatcitadelofmedicine,wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,hadhishouseandreceivedhiscrowdingpatients.
“Ifanyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehadthought.
Thesolemnbutlerknewandwelcomedhim;