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Utterson was amazed; the dark influence of Hyde had been withdrawn, the doctor had returned to his old tasks and amities; a week ago, the prospect had smiled with every promise of a cheerful and an honoured age; and now in a moment, friendship, and peace of mind, and the whole tenor of his life were wrecked.
The lawyer unsealed it, and several enclosures fell to the floor. The first was a will, drawn in the same eccentric terms as the one which he had returned six months before, to serve as a testament in case of death and as a deed of gift in case of disappearance; but, in place of the name of Edward Hyde, the lawyer, with indescribable amazement, read the name of Gabriel John Utterson.
The clerk, besides, was a man of counsel; he could scarce read so strange a document without dropping a remark; and by that remark Mr. Utterson might shape his future course. "This is a sad business about Sir Danvers," he said. "Yes, sir, indeed. It has elicited a great deal of public feeling," returned Guest. "The man, of course, was mad."
Utterson had already quailed at the name of Hyde; but when the stick was laid before him, he could doubt no longer; broken and battered as it was, he recognised it for one that he had himself presented many years before to Henry Jekyll. "Is this Mr. Hyde a person of small stature?" he inquired. "Particularly small and particularly wicked-looking, is what the maid calls him," said the officer. Mr.
Enfield only nodded his head very seriously, and walked on once more in silence. Mr. Utterson was sitting by his fireside one evening after dinner, when he was surprised to receive a visit from Poole. "Bless me, Poole, what brings you here?" he cried; and then taking a second look at him, "What ails you?" he added; "is the doctor ill?" "Mr. Utterson," said the man, "there is something wrong."
From that time forward, Mr. Utterson began to haunt the door in the by-street of shops. In the morning before office hours, at noon when business was plenty, and time scarce, at night under the face of the fogged city moon, by all lights and at all hours of solitude or concourse, the lawyer was to be found on his chosen post. "If he be Mr. Hyde," he had thought, "I shall be Mr. Seek."
After a little rambling talk, the lawyer led up to the subject which so disagreeably pre-occupied his mind. "I suppose, Lanyon," said he "you and I must be the two oldest friends that Henry Jekyll has?" "I wish the friends were younger," chuckled Dr. Lanyon. "But I suppose we are. And what of that? I see little of him now." "Indeed?" said Utterson. "I thought you had a bond of common interest."
"Yes, sir, he does indeed," said Poole. "We have all orders to obey him." "I do not think I ever met Mr. Hyde?" asked Utterson. "O, dear no, sir. He never dines here," replied the butler. "Indeed we see very little of him on this side of the house; he mostly comes and goes by the laboratory." "Well, good-night, Poole." "Good-night, Mr. Utterson."
They went out, locking the door of the theatre behind them; and Utterson, once more leaving the servants gathered about the fire in the hall, trudged back to his office to read the two narratives in which this mystery was now to be explained.
From that time forward, Mr. Utterson began to haunt the door in the by-street of shops. In the morning before office hours, at noon when business was plenty, and time scarce, at night under the face of the fogged city moon, by all lights and at all hours of solitude or concourse, the lawyer was to be found on his chosen post. "If he be Mr. Hyde," he had thought, "I shall be Mr. Seek."
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