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Updated: May 15, 2025
Jekyll," he said in a loud, unsteady voice. "I am quite done with that person; and I beg that you will spare me any allusion to one whom I regard as dead." "Tut-tut," said Mr. Utterson; and then after a considerable pause, "Can't I do anything?" he inquired. "We are three very old friends, Lanyon; we shall not live to make others." "Nothing can be done," returned Lanyon; "ask himself."
I give you my hand upon that; and I thank you again and again; and I will just add one little word, Utterson, that I'm sure you'll take in good part: this is a private matter, and I beg of you to let it sleep." Utterson reflected a little, looking in the fire. "I have no doubt you are perfectly right," he said at last, getting to his feet.
On the 8th of January Utterson had dined at the doctor's with a small party; Lanyon had been there; and the face of the host had looked from one to the other as in the old days when the trio were inseparable friends. On the 12th, and again on the 14th, the door was shut against the lawyer. "The doctor was confined to the house," Poole said, "and saw no one."
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."
"I burned it," replied Jekyll, "before I thought what I was about. But it bore no postmark. The note was handed in." "Shall I keep this and sleep upon it?" asked Utterson. "I wish you to judge for me entirely," was the reply. "I have lost confidence in myself." "Well, I shall consider," returned the lawyer.
"And now one word more: it was Hyde who dictated the terms in your will about that disappearance?" The doctor seemed seized with a qualm of faintness; he shut his mouth tight and nodded. "I knew it," said Utterson. "He meant to murder you. You had a fine escape."
"I should like to hear your views on that," replied Utterson. "I have a document here in his handwriting; it is between ourselves, for I scarce know what to do about it; it is an ugly business at the best. But there it is; quite in your way a murderer's autograph." Guest's eyes brightened, and he sat down at once and studied it with passion. "No, sir," he said: "not mad; but it is an odd hand."
Jekyll was no exception; and as he now sat on the opposite side of the fire a large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty, with something of a stylish cast perhaps, but every mark of capacity and kindness you could see by his looks that he cherished for Mr. Utterson a sincere and warm affection. "I have been wanting to speak to you, Jekyll," began the latter. "You know that will of yours?"
The steps fell lightly and oddly, with a certain swing, for all they went so slowly; it was different indeed from the heavy creaking tread of Henry Jekyll. Utterson sighed. "Is there never anything else?" he asked. Poole nodded. "Once," he said. "Once I heard it weeping!" "Weeping? how that?" said the lawyer, conscious of a sudden chill of horror.
And with that he brought the paper to his eyes and read as follows: "MY DEAR UTTERSON, When this shall fall into your hands, I shall have disappeared, under what circumstances I have not the penetration to foresee, but my instinct and all the circumstances of my nameless situation tell me that the end is sure and must be early.
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