NEARLY a year later, in the month of October, 18\u2014, London was\u00a0startled by a crime of singular ferocity and rendered all the more\u00a0notable by the high position of the victim. The details were few and\u00a0startling. A maid servant living alone in a house not far from the\u00a0river, had gone up-stairs to bed about eleven. Although a fog rolled\u00a0over the city in the small hours, the early part of the night was\u00a0cloudless, and the lane, which the maid's window overlooked, was\u00a0brilliantly lit by the full moon. It seems she was romantically\u00a0given, for she sat down upon her box, which stood immediately under\u00a0the window, and fell into a dream of musing. Never (she used to say,\u00a0with streaming tears, when she narrated that experience), never had\u00a0she felt more at peace with all men or thought more kindly of the\u00a0world. And as she so sat she became aware of an aged and beautiful\u00a0gentleman with white hair, drawing near along the lane; and\u00a0advancing to meet him, another and very small gentleman, to whom at\u00a0first she\u00a0paid less attention. When they had come within speech (which was\u00a0just under the maid's eyes) the older man bowed and accosted the\u00a0other with a very pretty manner of politeness. It did not seem as\u00a0if the subject of his address were of great importance; indeed,\u00a0from his pointing, it sometimes appeared as if he were only\u00a0inquiring his way; but the moon shone on his face as he spoke, and\u00a0the girl was pleased to watch it, it seemed to breathe such an\u00a0innocent and old-world kindness of disposition, yet with something\u00a0high too, as of a well-founded self-content. Presently her eye\u00a0wandered to the other, and she was surprised to recognise in him a\u00a0certain Mr. Hyde, who had once visited her master and for whom she\u00a0had conceived a dislike. He had in his hand a heavy cane, with which\u00a0he was trifling; but he answered never a word, and seemed to listen\u00a0with an ill-contained impatience. And then all of a sudden he broke\u00a0out in a great flame of anger, stamping with his foot, brandishing\u00a0the cane, and carrying on (as the maid described it) like a madman.\u00a0The old gentleman took a step back, with the air of one very much\u00a0surprised and a trifle hurt; and at that Mr. Hyde broke out of all\u00a0bounds and clubbed him to the earth. And next moment, with ape-like\u00a0fury, he was trampling his victim under foot and hailing down a\u00a0storm of blows, under which the bones were audibly shattered and the\u00a0body jumped upon the roadway. At the horror of these sights and\u00a0sounds, the maid fainted.<\/p>\r\n
It was two o'clock when she came to herself and called for the\u00a0police. The murderer was gone long ago; but there lay his victim in\u00a0the middle of the lane, incredibly mangled. The stick with which the\u00a0deed had been done, although it was of some rare and very tough and\u00a0heavy wood, had broken in the middle under the stress of this\u00a0insensate cruelty; and one splintered half had rolled in the\u00a0neighbouring gutter\u2014the other, without doubt, had been carried\u00a0away by the murderer. A purse and a gold watch were found upon the\u00a0victim: but no cards or papers, except a sealed and stamped\u00a0envelope, which he had been probably carrying to the post, and which\u00a0bore the name and address of Mr. Utterson.<\/p>\r\n
This was brought to the lawyer the next morning, before he was out\u00a0of bed; and he had no sooner seen it, and been told the\u00a0circumstances, than he shot out a solemn lip. \"I shall say nothing\u00a0till I have seen the body,\" said he; \"this may be very serious. Have\u00a0the kindness to wait while I dress.\" And with the same grave\u00a0countenance he hurried through his breakfast and drove to the police\u00a0station, whither the body had been carried. As soon as he came into\u00a0the cell, he nodded.<\/p>\r\n
\"Yes,\" said he, \"I recognise him. I am sorry to say that this is\u00a0Sir Danvers Carew.\"<\/p>\r\n
\"Good God, sir,\" exclaimed the officer, \"is it possible?\" And the\u00a0next moment his eye\u00a0lighted up with professional ambition. \"This will make a deal of\u00a0noise,\" he said. \"And perhaps you can help us to the man.\" And he\u00a0briefly narrated what the maid had seen, and showed the broken\u00a0stick.<\/p>\r\n
Mr. Utterson had already quailed at the name of Hyde; but when the\u00a0stick was laid before him, he could doubt no longer; broken and\u00a0battered as it was, he recognised it for one that he had himself\u00a0presented many years before to Henry Jekyll.<\/p>\r\n
\"Is this Mr. Hyde a person of small stature?\" he inquired.<\/p>\r\n
\"Particularly small and particularly wicked-looking, is what the\u00a0maid calls him,\" said the officer.<\/p>\r\n
Mr. Utterson reflected; and then, raising his head, \"If you will\u00a0come with me in my cab,\" he said, \"I think I can take you to his\u00a0house.\"<\/p>\r\n
It was by this time about nine in the morning, and the first fog of\u00a0the season. A great chocolate-coloured pall lowered over heaven, but\u00a0the wind was continually charging and routing these embattled\u00a0vapours; so that as the cab crawled from street to street, Mr.\u00a0Utterson beheld a marvellous number of degrees and hues of twilight;\u00a0for here it would be dark like the back-end of evening; and there\u00a0would be a glow of a rich, lurid brown, like the light of some\u00a0strange conflagration; and here, for a moment, the fog would be\u00a0quite broken up, and a haggard shaft\u00a0of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths. The\u00a0dismal quarter of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, with its\u00a0muddy ways, and slatternly passengers, and its lamps, which had\u00a0never been extinguished or had been kindled afresh to combat this\u00a0mournful re-invasion of darkness, seemed, in the lawyer's eyes, like\u00a0a district of some city in a nightmare. The thoughts of his mind,\u00a0besides, were of the gloomiest dye; and when he glanced at the\u00a0companion of his drive, he was conscious of some touch of that\u00a0terror of the law and the law's officers, which may at times assail\u00a0the most honest.<\/p>\r\n
As the cab drew up before the address indicated, the fog lifted a\u00a0little and showed him a dingy street, a gin palace, a low French\u00a0eating-house, a shop for the retail of penny numbers and twopenny\u00a0salads, many ragged children huddled in the doorways, and many\u00a0women of different nationalities passing out, key in hand, to have a\u00a0morning glass; and the next moment the fog settled down again upon\u00a0that part, as brown as umber, and cut him off from his blackguardly\u00a0surroundings. This was the home of Henry Jekyll's favourite; of a\u00a0man who was heir to a quarter of a million sterling.<\/p>\r\n
An ivory-faced and silvery-haired old woman opened the door. She\u00a0had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy; but her manners were\u00a0excellent. Yes, she said, this was Mr. Hyde's, but he was not at\u00a0home; he had been in that night very late,\u00a0but had gone away again in less than an hour; there was nothing\u00a0strange in that; his habits were very irregular, and he was often\u00a0absent; for instance, it was nearly two months since she had seen\u00a0him till yesterday.<\/p>\r\n
\"Very well, then, we wish to see his rooms,\" said the lawyer; and\u00a0when the woman began to declare it was impossible, \"I had better\u00a0tell you who this person is,\" he added. \"This is Inspector Newcomen\u00a0of Scotland Yard.\"<\/p>\r\n
A flash of odious joy appeared upon the woman's face. \"Ah!\" said\u00a0she, \"he is in trouble! What has he done?\"<\/p>\r\n
Mr. Utterson and the inspector exchanged glances. \"He don't seem a\u00a0very popular character,\" observed the latter. \"And now, my good\u00a0woman, just let me and this gentleman have a look about us.\"<\/p>\r\n
In the whole extent of the house, which but for the old woman\u00a0remained otherwise empty, Mr. Hyde had only used a couple of rooms;\u00a0but these were furnished with luxury and good taste. A closet was\u00a0filled with wine; the plate was of silver, the napery elegant; a\u00a0good picture hung upon the walls, a gift (as Utterson supposed) from\u00a0Henry Jekyll, who was much of a connoisseur; and the carpets were of\u00a0many plies and agreeable in colour. At this moment, however, the\u00a0rooms bore every mark of having been recently and hurriedly\u00a0ransacked; clothes lay about the floor, with their pockets inside\u00a0out;\u00a0lock-fast drawers stood open; and on the hearth there lay a pile of\u00a0grey ashes, as though many papers had been burned. From these\u00a0embers the inspector disinterred the butt-end of a green\u00a0cheque-book, which had resisted the action of the fire; the other\u00a0half of the stick was found behind the door; and as this clinched\u00a0his suspicions, the officer declared himself delighted. A visit to\u00a0the bank, where several thousand pounds were found to be lying to\u00a0the murderer's credit, completed his gratification.<\/p>\r\n
\"You may depend upon it, sir,\" he told Mr. Utterson: \"I have him in\u00a0my hand. He must have lost his head, or he never would have left the\u00a0stick or, above all, burned the cheque-book. Why, money's life to\u00a0the man. We have nothing to do but wait for him at the bank, and get\u00a0out the handbills.\"<\/p>\r\n
This last, however, was not so easy of accomplishment; for Mr. Hyde\u00a0had numbered few familiars\u2014even the master of the servant-maid\u00a0had only seen him twice; his family could nowhere be traced; he had\u00a0never been photographed; and the few who could describe him differed\u00a0widely, as common observers will. Only on one point, were they\u00a0agreed; and that was the haunting sense of unexpressed deformity\u00a0with which the fugitive impressed his beholders.<\/p>","rendered":"
NEARLY a year later, in the month of October, 18\u2014, London was\u00a0startled by a crime of singular ferocity and rendered all the more\u00a0notable by the high position of the victim. The details were few and\u00a0startling. A maid servant living alone in a house not far from the\u00a0river, had gone up-stairs to bed about eleven. Although a fog rolled\u00a0over the city in the small hours, the early part of the night was\u00a0cloudless, and the lane, which the maid’s window overlooked, was\u00a0brilliantly lit by the full moon. It seems she was romantically\u00a0given, for she sat down upon her box, which stood immediately under\u00a0the window, and fell into a dream of musing. Never (she used to say,\u00a0with streaming tears, when she narrated that experience), never had\u00a0she felt more at peace with all men or thought more kindly of the\u00a0world. And as she so sat she became aware of an aged and beautiful\u00a0gentleman with white hair, drawing near along the lane; and\u00a0advancing to meet him, another and very small gentleman, to whom at\u00a0first she\u00a0paid less attention. When they had come within speech (which was\u00a0just under the maid’s eyes) the older man bowed and accosted the\u00a0other with a very pretty manner of politeness. It did not seem as\u00a0if the subject of his address were of great importance; indeed,\u00a0from his pointing, it sometimes appeared as if he were only\u00a0inquiring his way; but the moon shone on his face as he spoke, and\u00a0the girl was pleased to watch it, it seemed to breathe such an\u00a0innocent and old-world kindness of disposition, yet with something\u00a0high too, as of a well-founded self-content. Presently her eye\u00a0wandered to the other, and she was surprised to recognise in him a\u00a0certain Mr. Hyde, who had once visited her master and for whom she\u00a0had conceived a dislike. He had in his hand a heavy cane, with which\u00a0he was trifling; but he answered never a word, and seemed to listen\u00a0with an ill-contained impatience. And then all of a sudden he broke\u00a0out in a great flame of anger, stamping with his foot, brandishing\u00a0the cane, and carrying on (as the maid described it) like a madman.\u00a0The old gentleman took a step back, with the air of one very much\u00a0surprised and a trifle hurt; and at that Mr. Hyde broke out of all\u00a0bounds and clubbed him to the earth. And next moment, with ape-like\u00a0fury, he was trampling his victim under foot and hailing down a\u00a0storm of blows, under which the bones were audibly shattered and the\u00a0body jumped upon the roadway. At the horror of these sights and\u00a0sounds, the maid fainted.<\/p>\n
It was two o’clock when she came to herself and called for the\u00a0police. The murderer was gone long ago; but there lay his victim in\u00a0the middle of the lane, incredibly mangled. The stick with which the\u00a0deed had been done, although it was of some rare and very tough and\u00a0heavy wood, had broken in the middle under the stress of this\u00a0insensate cruelty; and one splintered half had rolled in the\u00a0neighbouring gutter\u2014the other, without doubt, had been carried\u00a0away by the murderer. A purse and a gold watch were found upon the\u00a0victim: but no cards or papers, except a sealed and stamped\u00a0envelope, which he had been probably carrying to the post, and which\u00a0bore the name and address of Mr. Utterson.<\/p>\n
This was brought to the lawyer the next morning, before he was out\u00a0of bed; and he had no sooner seen it, and been told the\u00a0circumstances, than he shot out a solemn lip. “I shall say nothing\u00a0till I have seen the body,” said he; “this may be very serious. Have\u00a0the kindness to wait while I dress.” And with the same grave\u00a0countenance he hurried through his breakfast and drove to the police\u00a0station, whither the body had been carried. As soon as he came into\u00a0the cell, he nodded.<\/p>\n
“Yes,” said he, “I recognise him. I am sorry to say that this is\u00a0Sir Danvers Carew.”<\/p>\n
“Good God, sir,” exclaimed the officer, “is it possible?” And the\u00a0next moment his eye\u00a0lighted up with professional ambition. “This will make a deal of\u00a0noise,” he said. “And perhaps you can help us to the man.” And he\u00a0briefly narrated what the maid had seen, and showed the broken\u00a0stick.<\/p>\n
Mr. Utterson had already quailed at the name of Hyde; but when the\u00a0stick was laid before him, he could doubt no longer; broken and\u00a0battered as it was, he recognised it for one that he had himself\u00a0presented many years before to Henry Jekyll.<\/p>\n
“Is this Mr. Hyde a person of small stature?” he inquired.<\/p>\n
“Particularly small and particularly wicked-looking, is what the\u00a0maid calls him,” said the officer.<\/p>\n
Mr. Utterson reflected; and then, raising his head, “If you will\u00a0come with me in my cab,” he said, “I think I can take you to his\u00a0house.”<\/p>\n
It was by this time about nine in the morning, and the first fog of\u00a0the season. A great chocolate-coloured pall lowered over heaven, but\u00a0the wind was continually charging and routing these embattled\u00a0vapours; so that as the cab crawled from street to street, Mr.\u00a0Utterson beheld a marvellous number of degrees and hues of twilight;\u00a0for here it would be dark like the back-end of evening; and there\u00a0would be a glow of a rich, lurid brown, like the light of some\u00a0strange conflagration; and here, for a moment, the fog would be\u00a0quite broken up, and a haggard shaft\u00a0of daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths. The\u00a0dismal quarter of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, with its\u00a0muddy ways, and slatternly passengers, and its lamps, which had\u00a0never been extinguished or had been kindled afresh to combat this\u00a0mournful re-invasion of darkness, seemed, in the lawyer’s eyes, like\u00a0a district of some city in a nightmare. The thoughts of his mind,\u00a0besides, were of the gloomiest dye; and when he glanced at the\u00a0companion of his drive, he was conscious of some touch of that\u00a0terror of the law and the law’s officers, which may at times assail\u00a0the most honest.<\/p>\n
As the cab drew up before the address indicated, the fog lifted a\u00a0little and showed him a dingy street, a gin palace, a low French\u00a0eating-house, a shop for the retail of penny numbers and twopenny\u00a0salads, many ragged children huddled in the doorways, and many\u00a0women of different nationalities passing out, key in hand, to have a\u00a0morning glass; and the next moment the fog settled down again upon\u00a0that part, as brown as umber, and cut him off from his blackguardly\u00a0surroundings. This was the home of Henry Jekyll’s favourite; of a\u00a0man who was heir to a quarter of a million sterling.<\/p>\n
An ivory-faced and silvery-haired old woman opened the door. She\u00a0had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy; but her manners were\u00a0excellent. Yes, she said, this was Mr. Hyde’s, but he was not at\u00a0home; he had been in that night very late,\u00a0but had gone away again in less than an hour; there was nothing\u00a0strange in that; his habits were very irregular, and he was often\u00a0absent; for instance, it was nearly two months since she had seen\u00a0him till yesterday.<\/p>\n
“Very well, then, we wish to see his rooms,” said the lawyer; and\u00a0when the woman began to declare it was impossible, “I had better\u00a0tell you who this person is,” he added. “This is Inspector Newcomen\u00a0of Scotland Yard.”<\/p>\n
A flash of odious joy appeared upon the woman’s face. “Ah!” said\u00a0she, “he is in trouble! What has he done?”<\/p>\n
Mr. Utterson and the inspector exchanged glances. “He don’t seem a\u00a0very popular character,” observed the latter. “And now, my good\u00a0woman, just let me and this gentleman have a look about us.”<\/p>\n
In the whole extent of the house, which but for the old woman\u00a0remained otherwise empty, Mr. Hyde had only used a couple of rooms;\u00a0but these were furnished with luxury and good taste. A closet was\u00a0filled with wine; the plate was of silver, the napery elegant; a\u00a0good picture hung upon the walls, a gift (as Utterson supposed) from\u00a0Henry Jekyll, who was much of a connoisseur; and the carpets were of\u00a0many plies and agreeable in colour. At this moment, however, the\u00a0rooms bore every mark of having been recently and hurriedly\u00a0ransacked; clothes lay about the floor, with their pockets inside\u00a0out;\u00a0lock-fast drawers stood open; and on the hearth there lay a pile of\u00a0grey ashes, as though many papers had been burned. From these\u00a0embers the inspector disinterred the butt-end of a green\u00a0cheque-book, which had resisted the action of the fire; the other\u00a0half of the stick was found behind the door; and as this clinched\u00a0his suspicions, the officer declared himself delighted. A visit to\u00a0the bank, where several thousand pounds were found to be lying to\u00a0the murderer’s credit, completed his gratification.<\/p>\n
“You may depend upon it, sir,” he told Mr. Utterson: “I have him in\u00a0my hand. He must have lost his head, or he never would have left the\u00a0stick or, above all, burned the cheque-book. Why, money’s life to\u00a0the man. We have nothing to do but wait for him at the bank, and get\u00a0out the handbills.”<\/p>\n
This last, however, was not so easy of accomplishment; for Mr. Hyde\u00a0had numbered few familiars\u2014even the master of the servant-maid\u00a0had only seen him twice; his family could nowhere be traced; he had\u00a0never been photographed; and the few who could describe him differed\u00a0widely, as common observers will. Only on one point, were they\u00a0agreed; and that was the haunting sense of unexpressed deformity\u00a0with which the fugitive impressed his beholders.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":251,"menu_order":4,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-81","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/81","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/251"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/81\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":82,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/81\/revisions\/82"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/81\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=81"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=81"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=81"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/jekyllandhyde\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=81"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}