STORYOFTHEDOOR
Mr.
Uttersonthelawyerwasamanofaruggedcountenancethatwasneverlightedbyasmile;
cold,scantyandembarrassedindiscourse;
backwardinsentiment;
lean,long,dusty,drearyandyetsomehowlovable.
Atfriendlymeetings,andwhenthewinewastohistaste,somethingeminentlyhumanbeaconedfromhiseye;
somethingindeedwhichneverfounditswayintohistalk,butwhichspokenotonlyinthese
sessiz
silentsymbolsoftheafter-dinnerface,butmoreoftenandloudlyintheactsofhislife.Hewasausterewithhimself;
drankginwhenhewasalone,tomortifyatasteforvintages;
andthoughheenjoyedthetheatre,hadnotcrossedthedoorsofonefortwentyyears.
Buthehadanapprovedtoleranceforothers;
sometimeswondering,almostwithenvy,atthehighpressureofspiritsinvolvedintheirmisdeeds;
andinanyextremityinclinedtohelpratherthantoreprove.
“IinclinetoCain’sheresy,”heusedtosayquaintly:
“Iletmybrothergotothedevilinhisownway.”
Inthischaracter,itwasfrequentlyhisfortunetobethelastreputableacquaintanceandthelastgoodinfluenceinthelivesofdowngoingmen.
Andtosuchasthese,solongastheycameabouthischambers,henevermarkedashadeofchangeinhisdemeanour.
NodoubtthefeatwaseasytoMr.Utterson;
forhewasundemonstrativeatthebest,andevenhisfriendshipseemedtobefoundedina
benzer
similarcatholicityofgood-nature.Itisthemarkofamodestmantoaccepthisfriendlycircleready-madefromthehandsofopportunity;
andthatwasthelawyer’sway.
Hisfriendswerethoseofhisownbloodorthosewhomhehadknownthelongest;
hisaffections,likeivy,werethegrowthoftime,theyimpliednoaptnessintheobject.
Hence,nodoubtthe
bağ
bondthatunitedhimtoMr.RichardEnfield,hisdistantkinsman,thewell-knownmanabouttown.Itwasanuttocrackformany,whatthesetwocouldseeineachother,orwhat
konu
subjecttheycouldfindinortak
common.Itwasreportedbythosewhoencounteredthemintheir
Pazar
Sundaywalks,thattheysaidnothing,lookedsingularlydullandwouldhailwithaçık
obviousrelieftheappearanceofafriend.Forallthat,thetwomenputthegreateststorebytheseexcursions,countedthemthechiefjewelofeachweek,andnotonlyset
kenara
asideoccasionsofpleasure,butevenresistedthecallsofbusiness,thattheymightenjoythemuninterrupted.Itchancedononeoftheseramblesthattheirwayledthemdownaby-streetinabusyquarterofLondon.
Thestreetwassmallandwhatiscalledquiet,butitdroveathrivingtradeontheweekdays.
Theinhabitantswerealldoingwell,itseemedandallemulouslyhopingtodobetterstill,andlayingoutthesurplusoftheirgrainsincoquetry;
sothattheshopfrontsstoodalongthatthoroughfarewithanairofinvitation,likerowsofsmilingsaleswomen.
Evenon
Pazar
Sunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestreetparlıyordu
shoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinaforest;andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyof
not
note,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.Twodoorsfromonecorner,onthelefthandgoingeastthelinewasbrokenbytheentryofacourt;
andjustatthatpointacertainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet.
Itwastwostoreyshigh;
showednowindow,nothingbutadooronthe
alt
lowerstoreyandablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence.
Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneither
çan
bellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained.Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels;
childrenkeptshopuponthesteps;
theschoolboyhadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings;
andforcloseona
nesil
generation,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.Mr.
Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street;
butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscaneandpointed.
“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”
heasked;
andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”
ekledi
addedhe,“withaverygarip
oddstory.”“Indeed?”
saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?”
“Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield:
“Iwascominghomefromsomeplaceattheendoftheworld,aboutthreeo’clockofablack
kış
wintermorning,andmywaylaythroughapartoftownwheretherewastam anlamıyla
literallynothingtobeseenbutlamps.Streetafterstreetandallthefolksasleep—streetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessionandallasemptyasachurch—tillatlastIgotintothatstateofmindwhenamanlistensandlistensandbeginstolongforthesightofapoliceman.
Allatonce,Isawtwofigures:
onealittlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagoodwalk,andtheotheragirlofmaybeeightortenwhowasrunningashardasshewasabledownacrossstreet.
Well,sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyenoughatthecorner;
andthencamethe
korkunç
horriblepartofthething;forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingontheground.
Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee.
Itwasn’tlikeaman;
itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut.
Igaveafewhalloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquiteagroupaboutthescreamingchild.
Hewas
mükemmel
perfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,souglythatitbroughtouttheter
sweatonmelikerunning.Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;
andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensentputinhisappearance.
Well,thechildwasnotmuchtheworse,morefrightened,accordingtothesawbones;
andthereyoumighthavesupposedwouldbeanendtoit.
Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance.
Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatfirstsight.
Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural.
Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckme.
Hewasthe
her zamanki
usualcutanddryapothecary,ofnoparticularageandcolour,withastrongEdinburghaccentandaboutasduygusal
emotionalasabagpipe.Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus;
everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,Isawthatsawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththedesiretokillhim.
Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;
andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest.
WetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthisasshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother.
Ifhehadanyfriendsoranycredit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem.
Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecouldfortheywereaswildasharpies.
Ineversawacircleofsuchhatefulfaces;
andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,withakindofblacksneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan.
‘Ifyouchoosetomake
sermaye
capitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless.No
beyefendi
gentlemanbutwishestoavoidascene,’sayshe.‘Nameyourfigure.’Well,wescrewedhimuptoahundredpoundsforthechild’sfamily;
hewouldhave
belli ki
clearlylikedtostickout;buttherewassomethingaboutthelotofusthatmeantmischief,andatlasthestruck.
Thenextthingwastogetthemoney;
andwheredoyouthinkhecarriedusbuttothatplacewiththedoor?—whippedoutakey,wentin,andpresentlycamebackwiththematteroftenpoundsingoldandachequeforthebalanceonCoutts’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.
Black
Posta
MailHouseiswhatIcalltheplacewiththedoor,inconsequence.Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”he
ekledi
added,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing.FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonaskingrathersuddenly:
“Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?”
“Alikelyplace,isn’tit?”
returnedMr.Enfield.
“ButIhappentohavenoticedhisaddress;
helivesinsomesquareorother.”
“Andyouneveraskedaboutthe—placewiththedoor?”
saidMr.Utterson.
“No,sir;
Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply.
“Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions;
itpartakestoomuchofthestyleofthedayofjudgment.
Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartinga
taşı
stone.Yousitquietlyonthetopofa
tepenin
hill;andawaythestonegoes,startingothers;
andpresentlysomeblandold
kuş
bird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)isknockedontheheadinhisownbackgardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname.Nosir,Imakeitaruleofmine:
themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,thelessIask.”
“Averygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer.
“ButIhavestudiedtheplaceformyself,”continuedMr.Enfield.
“Itseemsscarcelyahouse.
Thereisnootherdoor,andnobodygoesinoroutofthatonebut,onceinagreatwhile,thegentlemanofmyadventure.
Therearethreewindowslookingonthecourtonthefirstfloor;
none
aşağıda
below;thewindowsarealwaysshutbutthey’reclean.
Andthenthereisachimneywhichisgenerallysmoking;
sosomebodymustlivethere.
Andyetit’snotsosure;
forthebuildingsaresopackedtogetheraboutthecourt,thatit’shardtosaywhereoneendsandanotherbegins.”
The
çift
pairwalkedonagainforawhileinsilence;andthen“Enfield,”saidMr.Utterson,“that’sagoodruleofyours.”
“Yes,Ithinkitis,”returnedEnfield.
“Butforallthat,”continuedthelawyer,“there’sonepointIwanttoask.
Iwanttoaskthenameofthatmanwhowalkedoverthechild.”
“Well,”saidMr.Enfield,“Ican’tseewhat
zarar
harmitwoulddo.ItwasamanofthenameofHyde.”
“Hm,”saidMr.Utterson.
“Whatsortofamanishetosee?”
“Heisnoteasytodescribe.
Thereissomethingwrongwithhisappearance;
somethingdispleasing,somethingdown-rightdetestable.
IneversawamanIsodisliked,andyetIscarceknowwhy.
Hemustbedeformedsomewhere;
hegivesastrongfeelingofdeformity,althoughIcouldn’tspecifythepoint.
He’san
olağanüstü
extraordinarylookingman,andyetIreallycannamenothingoutoftheway.No,sir;
Icanmakenohandofit;
Ican’tdescribehim.
Andit’snotwantofmemory;
forIdeclareIcanseehimthismoment.”
Mr.
Uttersonagainwalkedsomewayinsilenceandobviouslyunderaweightofconsideration.
“Youaresureheusedakey?”
heinquiredatlast.
“Mydearsir...”
beganEnfield,surprisedoutofhimself.
“Yes,Iknow,”saidUtterson;
“Iknowitmustseemstrange.
Thefactis,ifIdonotaskyouthenameoftheotherparty,itisbecauseIknowitalready.
Yousee,Richard,yourtalehasgonehome.
Ifyouhavebeeninexactinanypointyouhadbettercorrectit.”
“Ithinkyoumighthavewarnedme,”returnedtheotherwithatouchofsullenness.
“ButIhavebeenpedantically
kesin
exact,asyoucallit.Thefellowhadakey;
andwhat’smore,hehasitstill.
Isawhimuseitnotaweekago.”
Mr.
Uttersonsighed
derin
deeplybutsaidneveraword;andtheyoungmanpresentlyresumed.
“Hereisanother
ders
lessontosaynothing,”saidhe.“Iamashamedofmylongtongue.
Letusmakeabargainnevertorefertothisagain.”
“Withallmyheart,”saidthelawyer.
SEARCHFORMR.HYDE
ThateveningMr.Uttersoncamehometohisbachelorhouseinsombrespiritsandsatdowntodinnerwithoutrelish.
Itwashiscustomofa
Pazar
Sunday,whenthismealwasover,tositclosebythefire,avolumeofsomekuru
drydivinityonhisreadingmasası
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
süre
periodexceedingthreecalendarmonths,”thesaidEdwardHydeshouldstepintothesaidHenryJekyll’sshoeswithoutfurtherdelayandfreefromanyburthenorobligationbeyondthepaymentofafewsmallsumstothemembersofthedoctor’shousehold.Thisdocumenthadlongbeenthelawyer’seyesore.
Itoffendedhimbothasalawyerandasaloverofthesaneandcustomarysidesoflife,towhomthefancifulwastheimmodest.
AndhithertoitwashisignoranceofMr.Hydethathadswelledhisindignation;
now,bya
aniden
suddenturn,itwashisknowledge.Itwasalreadybadenoughwhenthenamewasbutanameofwhichhecouldlearnnomore.
Itwasworsewhenitbegantobeclotheduponwithdetestableattributes;
andoutoftheshifting,insubstantialmiststhathadsolongbaffledhiseye,thereleapedupthe
aniden
sudden,definitepresentmentofafiend.“Ithoughtitwasmadness,”hesaid,ashereplacedtheobnoxiouspaperinthesafe,“andnowIbegintofearitisdisgrace.”
Withthatheblewouthiscandle,putonagreatcoat,andsetforthinthedirectionofCavendish
Meydanı
Square,thatcitadelofmedicine,wherehisfriend,thegreatDr.Lanyon,hadhishouseandalıyordu
receivedhiscrowdingpatients.“Ifanyoneknows,itwillbeLanyon,”hehadthought.
Thesolemnbutlerknewandwelcomedhim;