Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 I ' e ^-> 
 
 V c * / 
 
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 THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND 
 MR. HYDE 
 
 WITH OTHER FABLES
 
 WORKS BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 
 
 AN INLAND VOYAGE 
 
 EDINBURGH: PICTURESQUE NOTES 
 
 TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY 
 
 VIRGINIBUS PUERISQUE 
 
 FAMILIAR STUDIES OF MEN AND BOOKS 
 
 NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF DAVID BALFOUR 
 
 Part I. KIDNAPPED 
 
 Part II. CATRIONA 
 
 THE BLACK ARROW 
 
 THE MASTER OF BALLANTRAB 
 
 ISLAND NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS 
 
 A FOOTNOTE TO HISTORY 
 
 TREASURE ISLAND 
 
 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS 
 
 A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES 
 
 STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE 
 
 PRINCE OTTO 
 
 THE MERRY MEN 
 
 BALLADS 
 UNDERWOODS 
 ACROSS THE PLAINS 
 MEMORIES AND PORTRAITS 
 FATHER DAMIRN 
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB : and THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND 
 
 (From NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS) 
 VAILIMA LETTERS 
 
 (WITH MRS. STEVENSON) 
 
 MORE NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS : THE DYNAMITER 
 
 (WITH LLOYD OSBOURNB) 
 THE WRONG BOX 
 THE WRECKER 
 THE EBB-TIDE
 
 THE STRANGE CASE 
 
 OF 
 
 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE 
 
 WITH OTHER FABLES 
 
 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 
 
 NEW IMPRESSION 
 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON 
 
 NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 
 
 igoi 
 
 All nghh reurved
 
 College 
 Library 
 
 7/r 
 ' 
 
 TO 
 
 KATHARINE DE MATTOS. 
 
 It's ill to loose the bands that God decreed to bind ; 
 Still will we be the children of the heather and the wind. 
 Far away from home, O it's still for you and me 
 That the broom is blowing bonnie in the north countrie. 
 
 10
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE 
 
 PAQS 
 
 STORY OF THE DOOR i 
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE 15 
 
 DR. JEKYLL WAS QUITE AT EASE 32 
 
 THE CAREW MURDER CASE 37 
 
 INCIDENT OF THE LETTER ....... 47 
 
 REMARKABLE INCIDENT OF DR. LANYON . . . . . 57 
 
 INCIDENT AT THE WINDOW 66 
 
 THE LAST NIGHT . . . . . . . . 70 
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE 96 
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S FULL STATEMENT OF THE CASE . . . 112 
 
 FABLES. 
 
 I. THE PERSONS OF THE TALE . . . . . 153 
 II. THE SINKING SHIP 160 
 
 III. THE Two MATCHES ....... 164 
 
 IV. THE SICK MAN AND THE FIREMAN 166 
 
 V. THE DEVIL AND THE INNKEEPER .... 168 
 
 VI. THE PENITENT ......... 170 
 
 VII. THE YELLOW PAINT 171 
 
 VIII. THE HOUSE OF ELD 176 
 
 IX. THE FOUR REFORMERS 189 
 
 X. THE MAN AND HIS FRIEND 191 
 
 XL THE READER 193 
 
 XII. THE CITIZEN AND THE TRAVELLER . . . 195 
 
 XIII. THE DISTINGUISHED STRANGER 196 
 
 XIV. THE CART-HORSES AND THE SADDLE-HORSE . . . 199 
 XV. THE TADPOLE AND THE FROG 201 
 
 XVI. SOMETHING IN IT 202 
 
 XVII. FAITH, HALF-FAITH, AND NO FAITH AT ALL . . 209 
 
 XVIII. THE TOUCHSTONE 213 
 
 XIX. THE POOR THING 227 
 
 XX. THE SONG OF THE MORROW 239
 
 THE STRANGE CASE 
 
 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 STORY OF THE DOOR. 
 
 MR. UTTERSON the lawyer was a man of a 
 rugged countenance, that was never lighted 
 by a smile ; cold, scanty and embarrassed in 
 discourse ; backward in sentiment ; lean, 
 long, dusty, dreary, and yet somehow lov- 
 able. At friendly meetings, and when the 
 wine was to his taste, something eminently 
 human beaconed from his eye ; something 
 indeed which never found its way into his 
 talk, but which spoke not only in these silent 
 symbols of the after-dinner face, but more 
 often and loudly in the acts of his life. He 
 
 i
 
 2 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 was austere with himself ; drank gin when he 
 was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages ; 
 and though he enjoyed the theatre, had not 
 crossed the doors of one for twenty years. 
 But he had an approved tolerance for others ; 
 sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at 
 the high pressure of spirits involved in their 
 misdeeds ; and in any extremity inclined to 
 help rather than to reprove, r 1 1 incline to 
 Cain's heresy," he used to say quaintly : "I let 
 my brother go to the devil in his own way.y 
 In this character, it was frequently his fortune 
 to be the last reputable acquaintance and the 
 last good influence in the lives of down-going 
 men. And to such as these, so long as they 
 came about his chambers, he never marked 
 a shade of change in his demeanour. 
 
 No doubt the feat was easy to Mr. Utterson ; 
 for he was undemonstrative at the best, and 
 even his friendships seemed to be founded in 
 a similar catholicity of good-nature. It is the 
 mark of a modest man to accept his friendly 
 circle ready made from the hands of oppor- 
 tunity ; and that was the lawyer's way. His
 
 STORY OF THE DOOR. 3 
 
 friends were those of his own blood, or those 
 whom he had known the longest ; his affec- 
 tions, like ivy, were the growth of time, they 
 implied no aptness in the object. Hence, 
 no doubt, the bond that united him to Mr. 
 Richard Enfield, his distant kinsman, the 
 well-known man about town. It was a 
 nut to crack for many, what these two could 
 see in each other, or what subject they could 
 find in common. It was reported by those 
 who encountered them in their Sunday walks, 
 that they said nothing, looked singularly dull, 
 and would hail with obvious relief the appear- 
 ance of a friend. For all that, the two men 
 put the greatest store by these excursions, 
 counted them the chief jewel of each week, 
 and not only set aside occasions of pleasure, 
 but even resisted the calls of business, that 
 they might enjoy them uninterrupted. 
 
 It chanced on one of these rambles that 
 their way led them down a by-street in a 
 busy quarter of London. The street was 
 small and what is called quiet, but it drove 
 a thriving trade on the week-days. The
 
 4 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 inhabitants were all doing well, it seemed, 
 and all emulously hoping to do better still, 
 and laying out the surplus of their gains in 
 coquetry ; so that the shop fronts stood along 
 that thoroughfare with an air of invitation, like 
 rows of smiling saleswomen. Even on Sun- 
 day, when it veiled its more florid charms 
 and lay comparatively empty of passage, the 
 street shone out in contrast to its dingy neigh- 
 bourhood, like a fire in a forest ; and with its 
 freshly painted shutters, well-polished brasses, 
 and general cleanliness and gaiety of note, 
 instantly caught and pleased the eye of the 
 passenger. 
 
 Two doors from one corner, on the left 
 hand going east, the line was broken by the 
 entry of a court ; and just at that point, a 
 certain sinister block of building thrust for- 
 ward its gable on the street. It was two 
 storeys high ; showed no window, nothing 
 
 ^^^^^^^^^^^^^i^^^^ 1 ^**""*** 
 
 but a door on the lower storey and a blind 
 forehead of discoloured wall on the upper ; 
 and bore in every feature the marks of pro- 
 longed and sordid negligence. The door,
 
 STORY OF THE DOOR. 5 
 
 which was equipped with neither bell nor 
 knocker, was blistered and distained. Tramps 
 slouched into the recess and struck matches 
 on the panels ; children kept shop upon the 
 steps ; the schoolboy had tried his knife on 
 the mouldings ; and for close on a gene- 
 ration, no one had appeared to drive away 
 these random visitors or to repair their 
 ravages. 
 
 Mr. Enfield and the lawyer were on the 
 other side of the by-street ; but when they 
 
 came abreast of the entry, the former lifted 
 
 * 
 up his cane and pointed. 
 
 " Did you ever remark that door?" he 
 asked; and when his companion had replied 
 in the affirmative, "It is connected in my 
 mind," added he, " with a very odd story". 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Mr. Utterson, with a slight 
 change of voice, " and what was that ? " 
 
 "Well, it was this way," returned Mr. En- 
 field : "I was coming home from some place 
 at the end of the world, about three o'clock of 
 a black winter morning, and my way lay 
 through a part of town where there was liter-
 
 6 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 ally nothing to be seen but lamps. Street 
 after street, and all the folks asleep street 
 after street, all lighted up as if for a proces- 
 sion, and all as empty as a church till at last 
 I got into that state of mind when a man 
 listens and listens and begins to long for the 
 sight of a policeman. All at once, I saw two 
 figures : one a little man who was stumping 
 along eastward at a good walk, and the other 
 a girl of maybe eight or ten who was running 
 as hard as she was able down a cross street. 
 Well, sir, the two ran into one another 
 naturally enough at the corner ; and then 
 came the horrible part of the thing ; for the 
 man trampled calmly over the child's body 
 and left her screaming on the ground. It 
 sounds nothing to hear, but it was hellish to 
 see. It wasn't like a man ; it was like some 
 damned Juggernaut. I gave a view halloa, 
 took to my heels, collared my gentleman, and 
 brought him back to where there was already 
 quite a group about the screaming child. He 
 was perfectly cool and made no resistance, 
 but gave me one look, so ugly that it brought
 
 STORY OF THE DOOR. 7 
 
 out the sweat on me like running. The 
 people who had turned out were the girl's 
 own family ; and pretty soon the doctor, for 
 whom she had been sent, put in his appear- 
 ance. Well, the child was not much the 
 worse, more frightened, according to the 
 Sawbones ; and there you might have sup- 
 posed would be an end to it. But there was 
 one curious circumstance. I had taken a 
 loathing to my gentleman at first sight. So 
 had the child's family, which was only natural. 
 But the doctor's case was what struck me. 
 He was the usual cut and dry apothecary, of 
 no particular age and colour, with a strong 
 Edinburgh accent, and about as emotional 
 as a bagpipe. Well, sir, he was like the rest 
 of us ; every time he looked at my prisoner, 
 I saw that Sawbones turned sick and white 
 with the desire to kill him. I knew what 
 was in his mind, just as he knew what was 
 in mine; and killing being out of the ques- 
 tion, we did the next best. We told the man 
 we could and would make such a scandal out 
 of this, as should make his name stink from
 
 8 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 one end of London to the other. If he had 
 any friends or any credit, we undertook that 
 he should lose them. And all the time, as 
 we were pitching it in red hot, we were keep- 
 ing the women off him as best we could, for 
 they were as wild as harpies. I never saw 
 a circle of such hateful faces ; and there was 
 the man in the middle, with a kind of black, 
 sneering coolness frightened too, I could 
 see that but carrying it off, sir, really like 
 Satan. ' If you choose to make capital out 
 of this accident,' said he, ' I am naturally 
 helpless. No gentleman but wishes to avoid 
 a scene,' says he. ' Name your figure.' 
 Well, we screwed him up to a hundred pounds 
 for the child's family ; he would have clearly 
 liked to stick out ; but there was something 
 about the lot of us that meant mischief, and 
 at last he struck. The next thing was to 
 get the money ; and where do you think he 
 carried us but to that place with the door? 
 whipped out a key, went in, and presently 
 came back with the matter of ten pounds in 
 gold and a cheque for the balance on Coutts's,
 
 STORY OP THE DOOR. 9 
 
 drawn payable to bearer, and signed with a 
 name that I can't mention, though it's one of 
 the points of my story, but it was a name 
 at least very well known and often printed. 
 The figure was stiff; but the signature was 
 good for more than that, if it was only 
 genuine. I took the liberty of pointing out 
 to my gentleman that the whole business 
 looked apocryphal; and that a man does not, 
 in real life, walk into a cellar door at four in 
 the morning and come out of it with another 
 man's cheque for close upon a hundred 
 pounds. But he was quite easy and sneer- 
 ing. ' Set your mind at rest,' says he ; ' I 
 will stay with you till the banks open, and 
 cash the cheque myself.' So we all set off, 
 the doctor, and the child's father, and our 
 friend and myself, and passed the rest of the 
 night in my chambers ; and next day, when 
 we had breakfasted, went in a body to the 
 bank. I gave in the cheque myself, and 
 said I had every reason to believe it was a 
 forgery. Not a bit of it. The cheque 
 was genuine."
 
 10 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 *' Tut-tut ! " said Mr. Utterson. 
 
 " I see you feel as I do," said Mr. Enfield. 
 " Yes, it's a bad story. For my man was a 
 fellow that nobody could have to do with, a 
 really damnable man ; and the person that 
 drew the cheque is the very pink of the pro- 
 prieties, celebrated too, and (what makes it 
 worse) one of your fellows who do what they 
 call good. Black mail, I suppose ; an honest 
 man paying through the nose for some of the 
 capers of his youth. Black Mail House) is 
 what I call that place with the door, in 
 consequence. Though even that, you know, 
 is far from explaining all," he added ; and 
 with the words fell into a vein of musing. 
 
 From this he was recalled by Mr. Utterson 
 asking rather suddenly : " And you don't 
 know if the drawer of the cheque lives 
 there?" 
 
 " A likely place, isn't it ? " returned Mr. 
 Enfield. " But I happen to have noticed his 
 address ; he lives in some square or other." 
 
 " And you never asked about the place 
 with the door?" said Mr. Utterson.
 
 STORY OF THE DOOR. II 
 
 " No, sir : I had a delicacy," was the reply. 
 " I feel very strongly about putting ques- 
 tions ; it partakes too much of the style of 
 the day of judgment. You start a question, 
 and it's like starting a stone. You sit quietly 
 on the top of a hill ; and away the stone 
 goes, starting others ; and presently some 
 bland old bird (the last you would have 
 thought of) is knocked on the head in his 
 own back garden, and the family have to 
 change their name. No, sir, I make it a 
 rule of mine : the more it looks like Queer 
 Street, the less I ask." 
 
 " A very good rule, too," said the lawyer. 
 
 " But I have studied the place for myself," 
 continued Mr. Enfield. " It seems scarcely 
 a house. There is no other door, and nobody 
 goes in or out of that one, but, once in a 
 great while, the gentleman of my adventure. 
 There are three windows looking on the 
 court on the first floor ; none below ; the 
 windows are always shut, but they're clean. 
 And then there is a chimney, which is 
 generally smoking ; so somebody must live
 
 12 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 there. And yet it's not so sure ; for the 
 buildings are so packed together about that 
 court, that it's hard to say where one ends 
 and another begins." 
 
 The pair walked on again for a while in 
 silence ; and then " Enfield," said Mr. 
 Utterson, " that's a good rule of yours ". 
 
 " Yes, I think it is," returned Enfield. 
 
 " But for all that," continued the lawyer, 
 "there's one point I want to ask : I want to 
 ask the name of that man who walked over 
 the child." 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Enfield, "I can't see 
 what harm it would do. It was a man of 
 the name of Hyde." 
 
 " Hm," said Mr. Utterson. "What sort 
 of a man is he to see ? " 
 
 "He is not easy to describe. There is 
 f something wrong with his appearance ; some- 
 thing displeasing, something downright de- 
 testable. I never saw a man I so disliked, 
 and yet I scarce know why. He must bef de- 
 formed somewhere^ he gives a strong feeling 
 of deformity, although I couldn't specify the
 
 STORY OF THE DOOR. 13 
 
 point. H e's an extraordinary looking man, and 
 yet I really can name nothing out of the way. 
 No, sir ; I can make no hand of it ; I can't 
 describe him. And it's not want of memory ; 
 for I declare I can see him this moment." 
 
 Mr. Utterson again walked some way in 
 silence, and obviously under a weight of 
 consideration. " You are sure he used a 
 key ? " he inquired at last. 
 
 "My dear sir ..." began Enfield, surprised 
 out of himself. 
 
 "Yes, I know," said Utterson; " I know 
 it must seem strange. The fact is, if I do 
 not ask you the name of the other party, it 
 is because I know it already. You see, 
 Richard, your tale has gone home. If you 
 have been inexact in any point, you had 
 better correct it." 
 
 " I think you might have warned me," 
 returned the other, with a touch of sullen 
 ness. " But I have been pedantically exact, 
 as you call it. The fellow had a key ; and, 
 what's more, he has it still. I saw him use 
 it, not a week ago."
 
 14 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 Mr. Utterson sighed deeply, but said 
 never a word ; and the young man presently 
 resumed. " Here is another lesson to say 
 nothing," said he. " I am ashamed of my 
 long tongue. Let us make a bargain never 
 to refer to this again." 
 
 " With all my heart," said the lawyer. ' I 
 shake hands on that, Richard."
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 
 
 THAT evening Mr. Utterson came home to 
 his bachelor house in sombre spirits, and sat 
 down to dinner without relish. It was his 
 custom of a Sunday, when this meal was over, 
 to sit close by the fire, a volume of some dry 
 divinity on his reading desk, until the clock 
 of the neighbouring church rang out the 
 hour of twelve, when he would go soberly 
 and gratefully to bed. On this night, how- 
 ever, as soon as the cloth was taken away, 
 he took up a candle and went into his busi- 
 ness room. There he opened his safe, took 
 from the most private part of it a document 
 endorsed on the envelope as Dr. Jekyll's 
 Will, and sat down with a clouded brow to 
 study its contents. The will was holograph ; 
 for Mr. Utterson, though he took charge of 
 it now that it was made, had refused to lend
 
 16 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 the least assistance in the making of it ; it 
 provided not only that, in case of the decease 
 of Henry Jekyll, M.D., D.C.L., LL.D., 
 F.R.S., etc., all his possessions were to pass 
 into the hands of his " friend and benefactor 
 Edward Hyde"; but that in case of Dr. 
 Jekyll's " disappearance or unexplained ab- 
 sence for any period exceeding three calendar 
 months," the said Edward Hyde should step 
 into the said Henry Jekyll's shoes without 
 further delay, and free from any burthen or 
 obligation, beyond the payment of a few 
 small sums to the members of the doctor's 
 household. This document had long been 
 the lawyer's eyesore. It offended him both 
 as a lawyer and as a lover of the sane and 
 customary sides of life, to whom the fanci- 
 ful was the immodest. And hitherto it was 
 his ignorance of Mr. Hyde that had swelled 
 his indignation ; now, by a sudden turn, it 
 was his knowledge. It was already bad 
 enough when the name was but a name of 
 which he could learn no more. It was worse 
 when it began to be clothed upon with de-
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 1J 
 
 testable attributes ; and out of the shifting, 
 insubstantial mists that had so long baffled 
 his eye, there leaped up the sudden, definite 
 presentment of a fiend. 
 
 " I thought it was madness," he said, as he 
 replaced the obnoxious paper in the safe ; 
 "and now I begin to fear it is disgrace." 
 
 With that he blew out his candle, put on 
 a great coat, and set forth in the direction of 
 Cavendish Square, that citadel of medicine, 
 where his friend, the great Dr. Lanyon, had 
 his house and received his crowding patients. 
 " If any one knows, it will be Lanyon," he 
 had thought. 
 
 The solemn butler knew and welcomed 
 him ; he was subjected to no stage of delay, 
 but ushered direct from the door to the 
 dining-room, where Dr. Lanyon sat alone 
 over his wine. This was a hearty, healthy, 
 dapper, red-faced gentleman, with a shock of 
 hair prematurely white, and a boisterous and 
 decided manner. At sight of Mr. Utterson, 
 he sprang up from his chair and welcomed 
 him with both hands. The geniality, as was
 
 l8 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 the way of the man, was somewhat theatrical 
 to the eye ; but it reposed on genuine feeling. 
 For these two were old friends, old mates 
 both at school and college, both thorough 
 respecters of themselves and of each other, 
 and, what does not always follow, men who 
 thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. 
 
 After a little rambling talk, the lawyer led 
 up to the subject which so disagreeably 
 preoccupied 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." 
 
 " We had," was the reply. " But it is more 
 than ten years since Henry Jekyll became 
 too fanciful for me. \ He began to go wrong, 
 wrong in mind ; and though, of course, I con- 
 tinue to take an interest in him for old sake's 
 sake as they say, I see and I have seen
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 19 
 
 devilish little of the man. Such unscien- 
 tific balderdash," added the doctor, flushing 
 suddenly purple, "would have estranged 
 Damon and Pythias." 
 
 This little spirt of temper was somewhat 
 of a relief to Mr. Utterson. "They have 
 only differed on some point of science," he 
 thought ; and being a man of no scientific 
 passions (except in the matter of conveyanc- 
 ing) he even added : " It is nothing worse 
 than that ! " He gave his friend a few 
 seconds to recover his composure, and then 
 approached the question he had come to put. 
 
 " Did you ever come across a prottg 
 of his one Hyde?" he asked. 
 
 " Hyde ? " repeated Lanyon. " No. Never 
 heard of him. Since my time." 
 
 That was the amount of information that 
 the lawyer carried back with him to the 
 great, dark bed on which he tossed to and 
 fro, until the small hours of the morning be- 
 gan to grow large. It was a night of little 
 ease to his toiling mind, toiling in mere 
 darkness and besieged by questions.
 
 20 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 Six o'clock struck on the bells of the 
 church that was so conveniently near to Mr. 
 Utterson's dwelling, and still he was digging 
 at the problem. Hitherto it had touched 
 him on the intellectual side alone ; but now 
 his imagination also was engaged, or rather 
 enslaved ; and as he lay and tossed in the 
 gross darkness of the night and the curtained 
 room, Mr. Enfield's tale went by before his 
 mind in a scroll of lighted pictures. He 
 would be aware of the great field of lamps of 
 a nocturnal city ; then of the figure of a man 
 walking swiftly ; then of a child running from 
 the doctor's ; and then these met, and that 
 human Juggernaut trod the child down and 
 passed on regardless of her screams. Or 
 else he would see a room in a rich house, 
 where his friend lay asleep, dreaming and 
 smiling at his dreams ; and then the door of 
 that room would be opened, the curtains of 
 the bed plucked apart, the sleeper recalled, 
 and, lo ! there would stand by his side a 
 figure to whom power was given, and even 
 at that dead hour, he must rise and do its
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 21 
 
 bidding. The figure in these two phases 
 haunted the lawyer all night ; and if at any 
 time he dozed over, it was but to see it glide 
 more stealthily through sleeping houses, or 
 move the more swiftly and still the more 
 swiftly, even to dizziness, through wider laby- 
 rinths of lamp-lighted city, and at every street 
 corner crush a child and leave her screaming. 
 And still the figure had no face by which he 
 might know it ; even in his dreams, it had no 
 face, or one that bafHed him and melted be- 
 fore his eyes ; and thus it was that there 
 sprang up and grew apace in the lawyer's 
 mind a singularly strong, almost an inordi- 
 nate, curiosity to behold the features of the 
 real Mr. Hyde. If he could but once set 
 eyes on him, he thought the mystery would 
 lighten and perhaps roll altogether away, as 
 was the habit of mysterious things when well 
 examined. He might see a reason for his 
 friend's strange preference or bondage (call it 
 which you please), and even for the startling 
 clauses of the will. And at least it would be 
 a face worth seeing : the face of a man who
 
 22 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 was without bowels of mercy : a face which 
 had but to show itself to raise up, in the 
 mind of the unimpressionable Enfield, a 
 spirit of enduring hatred. 
 
 From that time forward, Mr. Utterson be- 
 gan 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." 
 
 And at last his patience was rewarded: 
 It was a fine dry night ; frost in the air ; 
 the streets as clean as a ball-room floor; 
 the lamps, unshaken by any wind, drawing 
 a regular pattern of light and shadow. By 
 ten o'clock, when the shops were closed, the 
 by-street was very solitary, and, in spite of 
 the low growl of London from all round, very 
 silent. Small sounds carried far ; domestic 
 sounds out of the houses were clearly audible
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 23 
 
 on either side of the roadway ; and the 
 rumour of the approach of any passenger 
 preceded him by a long time. Mr. Utterson 
 had been some minutes at his post when he 
 was aware of an odd, light footstep drawing 
 near. In the course of his nightly patrols 
 he had long grown accustomed to the quaint 
 effect with which the footfalls of a single 
 person, while he is still a great way off, 
 suddenly spring out distinct from the vast 
 hum and clatter of the city. Yet his atten- 
 tion had never before been so sharply and 
 decisively arrested ; and it was with a strong, 
 superstitious prevision of success that he 
 withdrew into the entry of the court. 
 
 The steps drew swiftly nearer, and swelled 
 out suddenly louder as they turned the end 
 of the street. The lawyer, looking forth 
 from the entry, could soon see what manner 
 of man he had to deal with. He was small, 
 and very plainly dressed ; and the look of 
 him, even at that distance, went somehow 
 strongly against the watcher's inclination. 
 But he made straight for the door, crossing
 
 24 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 the roadway to save time ; and as he came, 
 he drew a key from his pocket, like one 
 approaching home. 
 
 Mr. Utterson stepped out and touched 
 him on the shoulder as he passed. "Mr. 
 Hyde, I think?" 
 
 Mr. Hyde shrank back with a hissing in- 
 take of the breath. But his fear was only 
 momentary ; and though he did not look the 
 lawyer in the face, he answered coolly 
 enough : " That is my name. What do you 
 want ? " 
 
 " I see you are going in," returned the 
 
 lawyer. " I am an old friend of Dr. Jekyll's 
 
 Mr. Utterson, of Gaunt Street you must 
 
 have heard my name ; and meeting you so 
 
 conveniently, I thought you might admit me." 
 
 " You will not find Dr. Jekyll ; he is from 
 home," replied Mr. Hyde, blowing in the 
 key. And then suddenly, but still without 
 looking up, "How did you know me?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " On your side," said Mr. Utterson, " will 
 you do me a favour ? "
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 25 
 
 u With pleasure," replied the other. 
 "What shall it be?" 
 
 " Will you let me see your face ? " asked 
 the lawyer. 
 
 Mr. Hyde appeared to hesitate ; and then, 
 as if upon some sudden reflection, fronted 
 about with an air of defiance ; and the pair 
 stared at each other pretty fixedly for a few 
 seconds. " Now I shall know you again," 
 said Mr. Utterson. " It may be useful." 
 
 "Yes," returned Mr. Hyde, "it is as well 
 we have met ; and a propos, you should have 
 my address." And he gave a number of a 
 street in Soho. 
 
 "Good God!" thought Mr. Utterson, 
 " can he too have been thinking of the will ? " 
 But he kept his feelings to himself, and only 
 grunted in acknowledgment of the address. 
 
 "And now," said the other, "how did 
 you know me ? " 
 
 " By description," was the reply. 
 
 "Whose description ? " 
 
 " We have common friends," said Mr. 
 Utterson.
 
 26 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 " Common friends ! " echoed Mr. Hyde, 
 a little hoarsely. " Who are they ? " 
 
 " Jekyll, for instance," said the lawyer. 
 
 " He never told you," cried Mr. Hyde, 
 with a flush of anger. " I did not think 
 you would have lied." 
 
 "Come," said Mr. Utterson, " that is not 
 fitting language." 
 
 The other snarled aloud into a savage 
 laugh ; and the next moment, with extra- 
 ordinary quickness, he had unlocked the 
 door and disappeared into the house. 
 
 The lawyer stood awhile when Mr. Hyde 
 had left him, the picture of disquietude. 
 Then he began slowly to mount the street, 
 pausing every step or two, and putting his 
 hand to his brow like a man in mental 
 perplexity. The problem he was thus 
 debating as he walked was one of a class 
 that is rarely solved. Mr. Hyde was pale 
 and dwarfish ; he gave an impression of 
 deformity without any namable malforma- 
 tion, he had a displeasing smile, he had 
 borne himself to the lawyer with a sort of
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 2J 
 
 murderous mixture of timidity and boldness, 
 and he spoke with a husky, whispering and 
 somewhat broken voice, all these were 
 points against him ; but not all of these 
 together could explain the hitherto unknown 
 disgust, loathing and fear with which Mr. 
 Utterson regarded him. " There must be 
 something else," said the perplexed gentle- 
 man. " There is something more, if I could 
 find a name for it. God bless me, the man 
 seems hardly human ! Something troglodytic, 
 shall we say ? or can it be the old story 
 of Dr. Fell ? or is it the mere radiance of a 
 foul soul that thus transpires through, and 
 transfigures, its clay continent ? The last, I 
 think; for, O my poor old Harry Jekyll, if 
 ever I read Satan's signature upon a face, 
 it is on that of your new friend." 
 
 Round the corner from the by-street there 
 was a square of ancient, handsome houses, 
 now for the most part decayed from their 
 high estate, and let in flats and chambers, 
 to all sorts and conditions of men : map- 
 engravers, architects, shady lawyers, and the
 
 28 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 agents of obscure enterprises. One house, 
 however, second from the corner, was still 
 occupied entire ; and at the door of this, 
 which wore a great air of wealth and 
 comfort, though it was now plunged in 
 darkness except for the fan-light, Mr. 
 Utterson stopped and knocked. A well- 
 dressed, elderly servant opened the door. 
 
 " Is Dr. Jekyll at home, Poole ? " asked 
 the lawyer. 
 
 " I will see, Mr. Utterson," said Poole, ad- 
 mitting the visitor, as he spoke, into a large, 
 low-roofed, comfortable hall, paved with 
 flags, warmed (after the fashion of a country 
 house) by a bright, open fire, and furnished 
 with costly cabinets of oak. " Will you wait 
 here by the fire, sir ? or shall I give you a 
 light in the dining-room ? " 
 
 " Here, thank you," said the lawyer ; and 
 he drew near and leaned on the tall fender. 
 This hall, in which he was now left alone, 
 was a pet fancy of his friend the doctor's ; 
 and Utterson himself was wont to speak of 
 it as the pleasantest room in London. But
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 29 
 
 to-night there was a shudder in his blood ; 
 the face of Hyde sat heavy on his memory ; 
 he felt (what was rare with him) a nausea 
 and distaste of life ; and in the gloom of his 
 spirits, he seemed to read a menace in the 
 flickering of the firelight on the polished 
 cabinets and the uneasy starting of the 
 shadow on the roof. He was ashamed of 
 his relief, when Poole presently returned 
 to announce that Dr. Jekyll was gone 
 out. 
 
 " I saw Mr. Hyde go in by the old 
 dissecting room door, Poole," he said. "Is 
 that right, when Dr. Jekyll is from 
 home?" 
 
 " Quite right, Mr. Utterson, sir," replied 
 the servant. "Mr. Hyde has a key." 
 
 "Your master seems to repose a great 
 deal of trust in that young man, Poole," 
 resumed the other, musingly. 
 
 " Yes, sir, he do indeed," said Poole. 
 "We have all orders to obey him." 
 
 "I do not think I ever met Mr. Hyde?" 
 asked Utterson.
 
 30 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 " 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." 
 
 And the lawyer set out homeward with a 
 very heavy heart. " Poor Harry Jekyll," 
 he thought, " my mind misgives me he is 
 in deep waters ! He was wild when he was 
 young ; a long while ago, to be sure ; but 
 in the law of God, there is no statute of 
 limitations. Ah, it must be that ; the ghost 
 of some old sin, the cancer of some con- 
 cealed disgrace ; punishment coming, pede 
 claudo, years after memory has forgotten and 
 self-love condoned the fault." And the 
 lawyer, scared by the thought, brooded 
 awhile on his own past, groping in all the 
 corners of memory, lest by chance some 
 Jack-in-the-Box of an old iniquity should 
 leap to light there. His past was fairly 
 blameless ; few men could read the rolls of 
 their life with less apprehension ; yet he
 
 SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE. 31 
 
 was humbled to the dust by the many ill 
 things he had done, and raised up again into 
 a sober and fearful gratitude by the many 
 that he had come so near to doing, yet 
 avoided. And then by a return on his 
 former subject, he conceived a spark of 
 hope. " This Master Hyde, if he were 
 studied," thought he, " must have secrets of 
 his own : black secrets, by the look of him ; 
 secrets compared to which poor Jekyll's 
 worst would be like sunshine. Things can- 
 not continue as they are. It turns me cold 
 to think of this creature stealing like a thief 
 to Harry's bedside ; poor Harry, what a 
 wakening ! And the danger of it ! for if 
 this Hyde suspects the existence of the will, 
 he may grow impatient to inherit. Ah, I 
 must put my shoulder to the wheel if 
 Jekyll will but let me," he added, " if Jekyll 
 will only let me." For once more he saw 
 before his mind's eye, as clear as a. trans- 
 parency, the strange clauses of the will.
 
 DR. JEKYLL WAS QUITE AT EASE. 
 
 A FORTNIGHT later, by excellent good fortune, 
 the doctor gave one of his pleasant dinners 
 to some five or six old cronies, all intelligent 
 reputable men, and all judges of good wine ; 
 and Mr. Utterson so contrived that he re- 
 mained behind after the others had departed. 
 This was no new arrangement, but a thing 
 that had befallen many scores of times. 
 Where Utterson was liked, he was liked well. 
 Hosts loved to detain the dry lawyer, when 
 the light-hearted and the loose-tongued had 
 already their foot on the threshold ; they 
 liked to sit awhile in his unobtrusive com- 
 pany, practising for solitude, sobering their 
 minds in the man's rich silence, after the 
 expense and strain of gaiety. To this rule, 
 Dr. Jekyll was no exception ; and as he now 
 sat on the opposite side of the fire a large,
 
 DR. JEKYLL WAS QUITE AT EASE. 33 
 
 well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty, with 
 something of a slyish 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 ? " 
 
 A close observer might have gathered that 
 the topic was distasteful ; but the doctor 
 carried it off gaily. "My poor Utterson," 
 said he, "you are unfortunate in such a 
 client. I never saw a man so distressed as 
 you were by my will ; unless it were that 
 hide-bound pedant, Lanyon, at what he called 
 my scientific heresies. O, I know he's a 
 good fellow you needn't frown an excel- 
 lent fellow, and I always mean to see more 
 of him ; but a hide-bound pedant for all that ; 
 an ignorant, blatant pedant. I was never 
 more disappointed in any man than Lanyon." 
 
 "You know I never approved of it," pur- 
 sued Utterson, ruthlessly disregarding the 
 
 fresh topic. 
 
 3
 
 34 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 "My will ? Yes, certainly, I know that," 
 said the doctor, a trifle sharply. " You have 
 told me so." 
 
 " Well, I tell you so again," continued the 
 lawyer. " I have been learning something 
 of young Hyde." 
 
 The large handsome face of Dr. Jekyll 
 grew pale to the very lips, and there came a 
 blackness about his eyes. " I do not care 
 to hear more," said he. " This is a matter 
 I thought we had agreed to drop." 
 
 "What I heard was abominable," said 
 Utterson. 
 
 "It can make no change. You do not 
 understand my position," returned the doctor, 
 with a certain incoherency of manner. " I 
 am painfully situated, Utterson ; my position 
 is a very strange a very strange one. It is 
 one of those affairs that cannot be mended 
 by talking." 
 
 "Jekyll," said Utterson, "you know me: 
 I am a man to be trusted. Make a clean 
 breast of this in confidence ; and I make no 
 doubt I can get you out of it."
 
 DR. JEKYLL WAS QUITE AT EASE. 35 
 
 " My good Utterson," said the doctor, 
 " this is very good of you, this is downright 
 good of you, and I cannot find words to 
 thank you in. I believe you fully ; I would 
 trust you before any man alive, ay, before 
 myself, if I could make the choice ; but in- 
 deed it isn't what you fancy ; it is not so bad 
 as that ; and just to put your good heart at 
 rest, I will tell you one thing : the moment I 
 choose, I can be rid of Mr. Hyde. 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. 
 
 "Well, but since we have touched upon 
 this business, and for the last time I hope," 
 continued the doctor, " there is one point I 
 should like you to understand. I have really 
 a very great interest in poor Hyde. I know
 
 36 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 you have seen him ; he told me so ; and I 
 fear he was rude. But I do sincerely take a 
 great, a very great interest in that young 
 man ; and if I am taken away, Utterson, I 
 wish you to promise me that you will bear 
 with him and get his rights for him. I think 
 you would, if you knew all ; and it would be 
 a weight off my mind if you would promise." 
 
 " I can't pretend that I shall ever like 
 him," said the lawyer. 
 
 " I don't ask that," pleaded Jekyll, laying 
 his hand upon the other's arm ; " I only ask 
 for justice ; I only ask you to help him for 
 my sake, when I am no longer here." 
 
 Utterson heaved an irrepressible sigh. 
 "Well," said he, "I promise."
 
 37 
 
 THE CAREW MURDER CASE. 
 
 NEARLY a year later, in the month of October, 
 1 8 , London was startled by a crime of sin- 
 gular ferocity, and rendered all the more 
 notable by the high position of the victim. 
 The details were few and startling. A maid- 
 servant living alone in a house not far from 
 the river, had gone upstairs to bed about 
 eleven. Although a fog rolled over the city 
 in the small hours, the early part of the night 
 was cloudless, and the lane, which the maid's 
 window overlooked, was brilliantly lit by the 
 full moon. It seems she was romantically 
 given ; for she sat down upon her box, which 
 stood immediately under the window, and 
 fell into a dream of musing. Never (she 
 used to say, with streaming tears, when she 
 narrated that experience), never had she felt 
 more at peace with all men or thought more
 
 38 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 kindly of the world. And as she so sat she 
 became aware of an aged and beautiful 
 gentleman with white hair, drawing near 
 along the lane ; and advancing to meet him, 
 another and very small gentleman, to whom 
 at first she paid less attention. When they 
 had come within speech (which was just 
 under the maid's eyes) the older man bowed 
 and accosted the other with a very pretty 
 manner of politeness. It did not seem as if 
 the subject of his address were of great im- 
 portance ; indeed, from his pointing, it some- 
 times appeared as if he were only inquiring 
 his way ; but the moon shone on his face as 
 he spoke, and the girl was pleased to watch 
 it, it seemed to breathe such an innocent and 
 old-world kindness of disposition, yet with 
 something high too, as of a well-founded 
 self-content. Presently her eye wandered to 
 the other, and she was surprised to recognise 
 in him a certain Mr. Hyde, who had once 
 visited her master, and for whom she had 
 conceived a dislike. He had in his hand a 
 heavy cane, with which he was trifling ; but
 
 THE CAREW MURDER CASE. 39 
 
 he answered never a word, and seemed to 
 listen with an ill-contained impatience. And 
 then all of a sudden he broke out in a great 
 flame of anger, stamping with his foot, bran- 
 dishing the cane, and carrying on (as the maid 
 described it) like a madman. The old 
 gentleman took a step back, with the air of 
 one very much surprised and a trifle hurt ; 
 and at that Mr. Hyde broke out of all bounds, 
 and clubbed him to the earth. And next 
 moment, with ape-like fury, he was trampling 
 his victim under foot, and hailing down a 
 storm of blows, under which the bones were 
 audibly shattered and the body jumped upon 
 the roadway. At the horror of these sights 
 and sounds, the maid fainted. 
 
 It was two o'clock when she came to her- 
 self and called for the police. The murderer 
 was gone long ago ; but there lay his victim 
 in the middle of the lane, incredibly mangled. 
 The stick with which the deed had been done, 
 although it was of some rare and very tough 
 and heavy wood, had broken in the middle 
 under the stress of this insensate cruelty ;
 
 40 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 and one splintered half had rolled in the 
 neighbouring gutter the other, without 
 doubt, had been carried away by the mur- 
 derer. A purse and a gold watch were found 
 upon the victim ; but no cards or papers, 
 except a sealed and stamped envelope, which 
 he had been probably carrying to the post, 
 and which bore the name and address of 
 Mr. Utterson. 
 
 This was brought to the lawyer the next 
 morning, before he was out of bed ; and he 
 had no sooner seen it, and been told the cir- 
 cumstances, than he shot out a solemn lip. 
 " I shall say nothing till I have seen the 
 body," said he; "this may be very serious. 
 Have the kindness to wait while I dress." 
 And with the same grave countenance he 
 hurried through his breakfast and drove to 
 the police station, whither the body had been 
 carried. As soon as he came into the cell, 
 he nodded. 
 
 "Yes," said he, "I recognise him. I am 
 sorry to say that this is Sir Danvers Carew." 
 
 " Good God, sir," exclaimed the officer, " is
 
 THE CAREW MURDER CASE. 41 
 
 it possible ? " And the next moment his eye 
 lighted up with professional ambition. " This 
 will make a deal of noise," he said. "And 
 perhaps you can help us to the man." And 
 he briefly narrated what the maid had seen, 
 and showed the broken stick. 
 
 Mr. 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. Utterson reflected; and then, raising his 
 head, "If you will come with me in my cab," 
 he said, " I think I can take you to his house". 
 
 It was by this time about nine in the 
 morning, and the first fog of the season. A 
 great chocolate-coloured pall lowered over 
 heaven, but the wind was continually charging
 
 42 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 and routing these embattled vapours ; so 
 that as the cab crawled from street to street, 
 Mr. Utterson beheld a marvellous number 
 of degrees and hues of twilight ; for here it 
 would be dark like the back-end of evening ; 
 and there would be a glow of a rich, lurid 
 brown, like the light of some strange con- 
 flagration ; and here, for a moment, the fog 
 would be quite broken up, and a haggard 
 shaft of daylight would glance in between 
 the swirling wreaths. The dismal quarter 
 of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, 
 with its muddy ways, and slatternly passen- 
 gers, and its lamps, which had never been 
 extinguished or had been kindled afresh to 
 combat this mournful reinvasion of darkness, 
 seemed, in the lawyer's eyes, like a district 
 of some city in a nightmare. The thoughts 
 of his mind, besides, were of the gloomiest 
 dye ; and when he glanced at the companion 
 of his drive, he was conscious of some touch of 
 that terror of the law and the law's officers, 
 which may at times assail the most honest. 
 As the cab drew up before the address
 
 THE CAREW MURDER CASE. 43 
 
 indicated, the fog lifted a little and showed 
 him a dingy street, a gin palace, a low French 
 eating house, a shop for the retail of penny 
 numbers and twopenny salads, many ragged 
 children huddled in the doorways, and many 
 women of many different nationalities passing 
 out, key in hand, to have a morning glass ; 
 and the next moment the fog settled down 
 again upon that part, as brown as umber, 
 and cut him off from his blackguardly sur- 
 roundings. This was the home of Henry 
 Jekyll's favourite; of a man who was heir 
 to a quarter of a million sterling. 
 
 An ivory- faced and silvery-haired old 
 woman opened the door. She had an evil 
 face, smoothed by hypocrisy ; but her man- 
 ners were excellent. Yes, she said, this was 
 Mr. Hyde's, but he was not at home ; he 
 had been in that night very late, but had 
 gone away again in less than an hour : there 
 was nothing strange in that ; his habits were 
 very irregular, and he was often absent ; for 
 instance, it was nearly two months since she 
 had seen him till yesterday.
 
 44 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 " Very well then, we wish to see his 
 rooms," said the lawyer ; and when the 
 woman began to declare it was impossible, 
 " I had better tell you who this person is," 
 he added. " This is Inspector Newcomen, 
 of Scotland Yard." 
 
 A flash of odious joy appeared upon the 
 woman's face. " Ah ! " said she, " he is in 
 trouble ! What has he done ? " 
 
 Mr. Utterson and the inspector exchanged 
 glances. "He don't seem a very popular 
 character," observed the latter. " And now, 
 my good woman, just let me and this gen- 
 tleman have a look about us." 
 
 In the whole extent of the house, which 
 but for the old woman remained otherwise 
 empty, Mr. Hyde had only used a couple of 
 rooms ; but these were furnished with luxury 
 and good taste. A closet was filled with 
 wine ; the plate was of silver, the napery 
 elegant ; a good picture hung upon the walls, 
 a gift (as Utterson supposed) from Henry 
 Jekyll, who was much of a connoisseur ; and 
 the carpets were of many piles and agreeable
 
 THE CAREW MURDER CASE. 45 
 
 in colour. At this moment, however, the 
 rooms bore every mark of having been re- 
 cently and hurriedly ransacked ; clothes lay 
 about the floor, with their pockets inside 
 out ; lockfast drawers stood open ; and on 
 the hearth there lay a pile of gray ashes, as 
 though many papers had been burned. 
 From these embers the inspector disinterred 
 the butt end of a green cheque book, which 
 had resisted the action of the fire ; the other 
 half of the stick was found behind the door ; 
 and as this clinched his suspicions, the officer 
 declared himself delighted. A visit to the 
 bank, where several thousand pounds were 
 found to be lying to the murderer's credit, 
 completed his gratification. 
 
 "You may depend upon it, sir," he told 
 Mr. Utterson : "I have him in my hand. 
 He must have lost his head, or he never 
 would have left the stick, or, above all, 
 burned the cheque book. Why, money's 
 life to the man. We have nothing to do 
 but wait for him at the bank, and get out 
 the handbills."
 
 46 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 This last, however, was not so easy of 
 accomplishment ; for Mr. Hyde had num- 
 bered few familiars even the master of the 
 servant-maid had only seen him twice ; his 
 family could nowhere be traced ; he had 
 never been photographed ; and the few who 
 could describe him differed widely, as 
 common observers will. Only on one point 
 were they agreed ; and that was the haunt- 
 ing sense of unexpressed deformity with 
 which the fugitive impressed his beholders.
 
 47 
 
 INCIDENT OF THE LETTER. 
 
 IT was late in the afternoon, when Mr. 
 Utterson found his way to Dr. Jekyll's door, 
 where he was at once admitted by Poole, 
 and carried down by the kitchen offices and 
 across a yard which had once been a garden, 
 to the building which was indifferently 
 known as the laboratory or the dissecting 
 rooms. The doctor had bought the house 
 from the heirs of a celebrated surgeon ; and 
 his own tastes being rather chemical than 
 anatomical, had changed the destination 
 of the block at the bottom of the garden. 
 It was the first time that the lawyer had 
 been received in that part of his friend's 
 quarters ; and he eyed the dingy windowless 
 structure with curiosity, and gazed round 
 with a distasteful sense of strangeness as he 
 crossed the theatre, once crowded with eager
 
 48 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 students and now lying gaunt and silent, 
 the tables laden with chemical apparatus, 
 the floor strewn with crates and littered 
 with packing straw, and the light falling 
 dimly through the foggy cupola. At the 
 further end, a flight of stairs mounted to a 
 door covered with red baize ; and through 
 this, Mr. Utterson was at last received into 
 the doctor's cabinet. It was a large room, 
 fitted round with glass presses, furnished, 
 among other things, with a cheval-glass and 
 a business table, and looking out upon the 
 court by three dusty windows barred with 
 iron. The fire burned in the grate ; a lamp 
 was set lighted on the chimney shelf, for 
 even in the houses the fog began to lie 
 thickly ; and there, close up to the warmth, 
 sat Dr. Jekyll, looking deadly sick. He 
 did not rise to meet his visitor, but held out 
 a cold hand, and bade him welcome in a 
 changed voice. 
 
 "And now," said Mr. Utterson, as soon 
 as Poole had left them, "you have heard 
 the news?"
 
 INCIDENT OF THE LETTER. 49 
 
 The doctor shuddered. " They were 
 crying it in the square," he said. " I heard 
 them in my dining-room." 
 
 "One word," said the lawyer. " Carew 
 was my client, but so are you ; and I want 
 to know what I am doing. You have not 
 been mad enough to hide this fellow ? " 
 
 " Utterson, I swear to God," cried the 
 doctor, " I swear to God I will never set 
 eyes on him again. I bind my honour to 
 you that I am done with him in this world. 
 It is all at an end. And indeed he does 
 not want my help ; you do not know him as 
 I do ; he is safe, he is quite safe ; mark my 
 words, he will never more be heard of." 
 
 The lawyer listened gloomily ; he did not 
 like his friend's feverish manner. " You 
 seem pretty sure of him," said he ; " and for 
 your sake, I hope you may be right. If it 
 came to a trial, your name might appear." 
 
 " I am quite sure of him," replied Jekyll ; 
 " I have grounds for certainty that I cannot 
 share with any one. But there is one thing 
 on which you may advise me. I have I 
 
 4 nor/Iff"
 
 50 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 ' i^\ 
 
 have | received^ a letter; and I am at a loss 
 whether I should show it to the police. I 
 should like to leave it in your hands, 
 Utterson ; you would judge wisely, I am 
 sure ; I have so great a trust in you." 
 
 " You fear, I suppose, that it might lead 
 to his detection ? " asked the lawyer. 
 
 " No," said the other. " I cannot say that 
 I care what becomes of Hyde ; I am quite 
 done with him. I was thinking of my own 
 character, which this hateful business has 
 rather exposed." 
 
 Utterson ruminated awhile ; he was sur- 
 prised at his friend's selfishness, and yet 
 relieved by it. " Well," said he, at last, 
 " let me see the letter." 
 
 The letter was written in an odd, upright 
 hand, and signed "Edward Hyde": and it 
 signified, briefly enough, that the writer's 
 benefactor, Dr. Jekyll, whom he had long so 
 unworthily repaid for a thousand generosities, 
 need labour under no alarm for his safety, 
 as he had means of escape on which he placed 
 a sure dependence. The lawyer liked this
 
 INCIDENT OF THE LETTER. 51 
 
 letter well enough : it put a better colour on 
 the intimacy than he had looked for ; and 
 he blamed himself for some of his past 
 suspicions. 
 
 "Have you the envelope?" he asked. 
 
 "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 have had a fine escape." 
 
 " I have had what is far more to the 
 purpose," returned the doctor solemnly : " I
 
 52 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 have had a lesson O God, Utterson, what 
 a lesson I have had ! " And he covered 
 his face for a moment with his hands. 
 
 On his way out, the lawyer stopped and 
 had a word or two with Poole. " By the 
 by," said he, "there was a letter handed in 
 to-day : what was the messenger like ? " 
 But Poole was positive nothing had come 
 except by post ; " and only circulars by 
 that," he added. 
 
 This news sent off the visitor with his 
 fears renewed. Plainly the letter had come 
 by the laboratory door ; possibly, indeed, 
 it had been written in the cabinet ; and, if 
 that were so, it must be differently judged, 
 and handled with the more caution. The 
 news-boys, as he went, were crying them- 
 selves hoarse along the footways: " Special 
 edition. Shocking murder of an M.P." 
 That was the funeral oration of one friend 
 and client ; and he could not help a certain 
 apprehension lest the good name of another 
 should be sucked down in the eddy of the 
 scandal. It was, at least, a ticklish decision
 
 INCIDENT OF THE LETTER. 53 
 
 that he had to make ; and, self-reliant as he 
 was by habit, he began to cherish a longing 
 for advice. It was not to be had directly ; 
 but perhaps, he thought, it might be fished 
 for. 
 
 Presently after, he sat on one side of his 
 own hearth, with Mr. Guest, his head clerk, 
 upon the other, and midway between, at a 
 nicely calculated distance from the fire, a 
 bottle of a particular old wine that had long 
 dwelt unsunned in the foundations of his 
 house. The fog still slept on the wing 
 above the drowned city, where the lamps 
 glimmered like carbuncles ; and through the 
 muffle and smother of these fallen clouds, the 
 procession of the town's life was still rolling 
 in through the great arteries with a sound as 
 of a mighty wind. But the room was gay 
 with firelight. In the bottle the acids were 
 long ago resolved ; the imperial dye had 
 softened with time, as the colour grows richer 
 in stained windows ; and the glow of hot 
 autumn afternoons on hillside vineyards was 
 ready to be set free and to disperse the fogs 

 
 54 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 of London. Insensibly the lawyer melted. 
 There was no man from whom he kept 
 fewer secrets than Mr. Guest ; and he was 
 not always sure that he kept as many as he 
 meant. Guest had often been on business 
 to the doctor's : he knew Poole ; he could 
 scarce have failed to hear of Mr. Hyde's 
 familiarity about the house ; he might draw 
 conclusions : was it not as well, then, that 
 he should see a letter which put that mystery 
 to rights? and, above all, since Guest, being 
 a great student and critic of handwriting, 
 would consider the step natural and obliging ? 
 The clerk, besides, was a man of counsel ; 
 he would 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 Dan- 
 vers," he said. 
 
 " Yes, sir, indeed. It has elicited a great 
 deal of public feeling," returned Guest. " The 
 man, of course, was mad." 
 
 " I should like to hear your views on that,"
 
 INCIDENT OF THE LETTER. 55 
 
 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 auto- 
 graph." 
 
 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." 
 
 " And by all accounts a very odd writer," 
 added the lawyer. 
 
 Just then the servant entered with a note. 
 
 "Is that from Dr. Jekyll, sir?" inquired 
 the clerk. " I thought I knew the writing. 
 Anything private, Mr. Utterson ? " 
 
 " Only an invitation to dinner. Why ? 
 do you want to see it ? " 
 
 " One moment. I thank you, sir ; " and 
 the clerk laid the two sheets of paper along- 
 side and sedulously compared their contents. 
 "Thank you, sir," he said at last, returning 
 both ; " it's a very interesting autograph." 
 
 There was a pause, during which Mr.
 
 56 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 Utterson struggled with himself. "Why 
 did you compare them, Guest ? " he inquired 
 suddenly. 
 
 "Well, sir," returned the clerk, "there's a 
 rather singular resemblance ; the two hands 
 are in many points identical : only differently 
 sloped." 
 
 " Rather quaint," said Utterson. 
 
 " It is, as you say, rather quaint," returned 
 Guest. 
 
 " I wouldn't speak of this note, you know," 
 said the master. 
 
 " No, sir," said the clerk. " I under- 
 stand." 
 
 But no sooner was Mr. Utterson alone 
 that night, than he locked the note into his 
 safe, where it reposed from that time forward. 
 " What ! " he thought. " Henry Jekyll forge 
 for a murderer ! " And his blood ran cold 
 in his veins.
 
 57 
 
 REMARKABLE INCIDENT OF DR. 
 LANYON. 
 
 TIME ran on ; thousands of pounds were 
 offered in reward, for the death of Sir Dan- 
 vers was resented as a public injury ; but 
 Mr. Hyde had disappeared out of the ken of 
 the police as though he had never existed. 
 Much of his past was unearthed, indeed, and 
 all disreputable : tales came out of the man's 
 cruelty, at once so callous and violent, of his 
 vile life, of his strange associates, of the 
 hatred that seemed to have surrounded his 
 career ; but of his present whereabouts, not 
 a whisper. From the time he had left the 
 house in Soho on the morning of the murder, 
 he was simply blotted out ; and gradually, as 
 time drew on, Mr. Utterson began to re- 
 cover from the hotness of his alarm, and to 
 grow more at quiet with himself. The
 
 58 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 death of Sir Danvers was, to his way of 
 thinking, more than paid for by the dis- 
 appearance of Mr. Hyde. Now that that 
 evil influence had been withdrawn, a new 
 life began for Dr. Jekyll. He came out of 
 his seclusion, renewed relations with his 
 friends, became once more their familiar 
 guest and entertainer ; and whilst he had 
 always been known for charities, he was 
 now no less distinguished for religion. He 
 was busy, he was much in the open air, he 
 did good ; his face seemed to open and 
 brighten, as if with an inward consciousness 
 of service ; and for more than two months, 
 the doctor was at peace. 
 
 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 i2th, and again on the 
 1 4th, the door was shut against the lawyer. 
 "The doctor was confined to the house," 
 Poole said, "and saw no one." On the
 
 REMARKABLE INCIDENT OF DR. LANYON. 59 
 
 1 5th, he tried again, and was again refused ; 
 and having now been used for the last two 
 months to see his friend almost daily, he 
 found this return of solitude to weigh upon 
 his spirits. The fifth night, he had in Guest 
 to dine with him ; and the sixth he betook 
 himself to Dr. Lanyon's. 
 
 There at least he was not denied admit- 
 tance ; but when he came in, he was 
 shocked at the change which had taken 
 place in the doctor's appearance. He had 
 his death-warrant written legibly upon his 
 face. The rosy man had grown pale ; his 
 flesh had fallen away ; he was visibly balder 
 and older ; and yet it was not so much these 
 tokens of a swift physical decay that arrested 
 the lawyer's notice, as a look in the eye and 
 quality of manner that seemed to testify to 
 some deep-seated terror of the mind. It 
 was unlikely that the doctor should fear 
 death ; and yet that was what Utterson was 
 tempted to suspect. " Yes," he thought ; 
 "he is a doctor, he must know his own state 
 and that his days are counted ; and the
 
 60 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 knowledge is more than he can bear." And 
 yet when Utterson remarked on his ill looks, 
 it was with an air of great firmness that Lan- 
 yon declared himself a doomed man. 
 
 "I have had a shock," he said, "and 
 I shall never recover. It is a question of 
 weeks. Well, life has been pleasant ; I 
 liked it ; yes, sir, I used to like it. I some- 
 times think if we knew all, we should be 
 more glad to get away." 
 
 "Jekyll is ill, too," observed Utterson. 
 "Have you seen him?" 
 
 But Lanyon's face changed, and he held 
 up a trembling hand. " I wish to see or 
 hear no more of Dr. 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 any- 
 thing? "he inquired. "We are three very 
 old friends, Lanyon ; we shall not live to 
 make others."
 
 REMARKABLE INCIDENT OF DR. LANYON. 6 1 
 
 " Nothing can be done," returned Lan- 
 yon ; "ask himself." 
 
 "He will not see me," said the lawyer. 
 
 " I am not surprised at that," was the 
 reply. " Some day, Utterson, after I am 
 dead, you may perhaps come to learn the 
 right and wrong of this. I cannot tell you. 
 And in the meantime, if you can sit and 
 talk with me of other things, for God's sake, 
 stay and do so ; but if you cannot keep 
 clear of this accursed topic, then, in God's 
 name, go, for I cannot bear it." 
 
 As soon as he got home, Utterson sat 
 down and wrote to Jekyll, complaining of 
 his exclusion from the house, and asking 
 the cause of this unhappy break with 
 Lanyon ; and the next day brought him 
 a long answer, often very pathetically 
 worded, and sometimes darkly mysterious 
 in drift. The quarrel with Lanyon was 
 incurable. " I do not blame our old friend," 
 Jekyll wrote, "but I share his view that we 
 must never meet. I mean from henceforth 
 to lead a life of extreme seclusion ; you
 
 62 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 must not be surprised, nor must you doubt 
 my friendship, if my door is often shut 
 even to you. You must suffer me to go 
 my own dark way. I have brought on 
 myself a punishment and a danger that I 
 cannot name. If I am the chief of sinners, 
 I am the chief of sufferers also. I could 
 not think that this earth contained a place 
 for sufferings and terrors so unmanning ; 
 and you can do but one thing, Utterson, 
 to lighten this destiny, and that is to 
 respect my silence." Utterson was amazed ; 
 the dark influence of Hyde had been with- 
 drawn, 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. 
 So great and unprepared a change pointed 
 to madness ; but in view of Lanyon's 
 manner and words, there must lie for it 
 some deeper ground. 
 
 A week afterwards Dr. Lanyon took to
 
 REMARKABLE INCIDENT OF DR. LANYON. 63 
 
 his bed, and in something less than a fort- 
 night he was dead. The night after the 
 funeral, at which he had been sadly affected, 
 Utterson locked the door of his business 
 room, and sitting there by the light of a 
 melancholy candle, drew out and set before 
 him an envelope addressed by the hand 
 and sealed with the seal of his dead friend. 
 " PRIVATE : for the hands of J. G. Utterson 
 ALONE, and in case of his predecease to be 
 destroyed unread" so it was emphatically 
 superscribed ; and the lawyer dreaded to 
 behold the contents. " I have buried one 
 friend to-day," he thought: "what if this 
 should cost me another ? " And then he 
 condemned the fear as a disloyalty, and 
 broke the seal. Within there was another 
 enclosure, likewise sealed, and marked 
 upon the cover as "not to be opened till 
 the death or disappearance of Dr. Henry 
 Jekyll ". Utterson could not trust his eyes. 
 Yes, it was disappearance ; here again, as 
 in the mad will, which he had long ago 
 restored to its author, here again were the
 
 64 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 idea of a disappearance and the name of 
 Henry Jekyll bracketed. But in the will, 
 that idea had sprung from the sinister 
 suggestion of the man Hyde ; it was set 
 there with a purpose all too plain and 
 horrible. Written by the hand of Lanyon, 
 what should it mean ? A great curiosity 
 came to the trustee, to disregard the pro- 
 hibition, and dive at once to the bottom of 
 these mysteries ; but professional honour 
 and faith to his dead friend were stringent 
 obligations ; and the packet slept in the 
 inmost corner of his private safe. 
 
 It is one thing to mortify curiosity, 
 another to conquer it ; and it may be 
 doubted if, from that day forth, Utterson 
 desired the society of his surviving friend 
 with the same eagerness. He thought of 
 him kindly ; but his thoughts were dis- 
 quieted and fearful. He went to call in- 
 deed ; but he was perhaps relieved to be 
 denied admittance ; perhaps, in his heart, 
 he preferred to speak with Poole upon the 
 doorstep, and surrounded by the air and
 
 REMARKABLE INCIDENT OF DR. LANYON. 65 
 
 sounds of the open city, rather than to be 
 admitted into that house of voluntary 
 bondage, and to sit and speak with its in- 
 scrutable recluse. Poole had, indeed, no 
 very pleasant news to communicate. The 
 doctor, it appeared, now more than ever 
 confined himself to the cabinet over the 
 laboratory, where he would sometimes even 
 sleep : he was out of spirits, he had grown 
 very silent, he did not read ; it seemed as 
 if he had something on his mind. Utterson 
 became so used to the unvarying character 
 of these reports, that he fell off little by 
 little in the frequency of his visits.
 
 66 
 
 INCIDENT AT THE WINDOW. 
 
 IT chanced on Sunday, when Mr. Utterson 
 was on his usual walk with Mr. Enfield, 
 that their way lay once again through the 
 by-street ; and that when they came in front 
 of the door, both stopped to gaze on it. 
 
 "Well," said Enfield, "that story's at 
 an end, at least. We shall never see more 
 of Mr. Hyde." 
 
 " I hope not," said Utterson. " Did I 
 ever tell you that I once saw him, and 
 shared your feeling of repulsion ? " 
 
 " It was impossible to do the one without 
 the other," returned Enfield. " And, by 
 the way, what an ass you must have 
 thought me, not to know that this was a 
 back way to Dr. Jekyll's ! It was partly 
 your own fault that I found it out, even 
 when I did."
 
 INCIDENT AT THE WINDOW. 67 
 
 "So you found it out, did you?" said 
 Utterson. "But if that be so, we may 
 step into the court and take a look at the 
 windows. To tell you the truth, I am un- 
 easy about poor Jekyll ; and even outside, 
 I feel as if the presence of a friend might 
 do him good." 
 
 The court was very cool and a little 
 damp, and full of premature twilight, al- 
 though the sky, high up overhead, was 
 still bright with sunset. The middle one 
 of the three windows was half way open ; 
 and sitting close beside it, taking the air 
 with an infinite sadness of mien, like some 
 disconsolate prisoner. Utterson saw Dr. 
 Jekyll. 
 
 "What! Jekyll!" he cried. "I trust 
 you are better." 
 
 " I am very low, Utterson," replied the 
 doctor drearily ; " very low. It will not 
 last long, thank God." 
 
 " You stay too much indoors," said the 
 lawyer. " You should be out, whipping up 
 the circulation, like Mr. Enfield and me.
 
 68 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 (This is my cousin Mr. Enfield Dr. 
 Jekyll.) Come now ; get your hat, and 
 take a quick turn with us." 
 
 " You are very good," sighed the other. 
 " I should like to very much ; but no, no, 
 no ; it is quite impossible ; I dare not. But 
 indeed, Utterson, I am very glad to see 
 you ; this is really a great pleasure. I 
 would ask you and Mr. Enfield up, but the 
 place is really not fit." 
 
 " Why then," said the lawyer, good- 
 naturedly, " the best thing we can do is to 
 stay down here, and speak with you from 
 where we are." 
 
 " That is just what I was about to venture 
 to propose," returned the doctor, with a smile. 
 But the words were hardly uttered, before 
 the smile was struck out of his face and 
 succeeded by an expression of such abject 
 terror and despair, as froze the very blood 
 of the two gentlemen below. They saw 
 it but for a glimpse, for the window was 
 instantly thrust down ; but that glimpse had 
 been sufficient, and they turned and left the
 
 INCIDENT AT THE WINDOW. 69 
 
 court without a word. In silence, too, they 
 traversed the by-street ; and it was not until 
 they had come into a neighbouring thorough- 
 fare, where even upon a Sunday there were 
 still some stirrings of life, that Mr. Utterson 
 at last turned and looked at his companion. 
 They were both pale ; and there was an 
 answering horror in their eyes. 
 
 " God forgive us ! God forgive us ! " said 
 Mr. Utterson. 
 
 But Mr. Enfield only nodded his head 
 very seriously, and walked on once more in 
 silence.
 
 70 
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 
 
 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." 
 
 " Take a seat, and here is a glass of wine 
 for you," said the lawyer. " Now, take 
 your time, and tell me plainly what you 
 want." 
 
 " You know the doctor's ways, sir," re- 
 plied Poole, "and how he shuts himself up. 
 Well, he's shut up again in the cabinet ; and 
 I don't like it, sir I wish I may die if I 
 like it. Mr. Utterson, sir, I'm afraid."
 
 THE LAST NIQHT. 71 
 
 " Now, my good man," said the lawyer, 
 "be explicit. What are you afraid of?" 
 
 " I've been afraid for about a week," 
 returned Poole, doggedly disregarding the 
 question; "and I can bear it no more." 
 
 The man's appearance amply bore out 
 his words ; his manner was altered for the 
 worse : and except for the moment when 
 he had first announced his terror, he had 
 not once looked the lawyer in the face. 
 Even now, he sat with the glass of wine 
 untasted on his knee, and his eyes directed 
 to a corner of the floor. " I can bear it 
 no more," he repeated. 
 
 "Come," said the lawyer, "I see you 
 have some good reason, Poole ; I see there 
 is something seriously amiss. Try to tell 
 me what it is." 
 
 " I think there's been foul play," said 
 Poole, hoarsely. 
 
 " Foul play ! " cried the lawyer, a good 
 deal frightened, and rather inclined to be 
 irritated in consequence. " What foul play ? 
 What does the man mean ? "
 
 72 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 " I daren't say, sir," was the answer ; 
 " but will you come along with me and see 
 for yourself?" 
 
 Mr. Utterson's only answer was to rise 
 and get his hat and great coat ; but he 
 observed with wonder the greatness of the 
 relief that appeared upon the butler's face, 
 and perhaps with no less, that the wine was 
 still untasted when he set it down to follow. 
 
 It was a wild, cold, seasonable night of 
 March, with a pale moon, lying on her back 
 as though the wind had tilted her, and a 
 flying wrack of the most diaphanous and 
 lawny texture. The wind made talking 
 difficult, and flecked the blood into the face. 
 It seemed to have swept the streets un- 
 usually bare of passengers, besides ; for Mr. 
 Utterson thought he had never seen that 
 part of London so deserted. He could have 
 wished it otherwise ; never in his life had he 
 been conscious of so sharp a wish to see and 
 touch his fellow-creatures ; for, struggle as 
 he might, there was borne in upon his mind 
 a crushing anticipation of calamity. The
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 73 
 
 square, when they got there, was all full of 
 wind and dust, and the thin trees in the 
 garden were lashing themselves along the 
 railing. Poole, who had kept all the way a 
 pace or two ahead, now pulled up in the 
 middle of the pavement, and in spite of the 
 biting weather, took off his hat and mopped 
 his brow with a red pocket-handkerchief. 
 But for all the hurry of his coming, these 
 were not the dews of exertion that he wiped 
 away, but the moisture of some strangling 
 anguish ; for his face was white, and his 
 voice, when he spoke, harsh and broken. 
 
 "Well, sir," he said, "here we are, and 
 God grant there be nothing wrong." 
 
 " Amen, Poole," said the lawyer. 
 
 Thereupon the servant knocked in a very 
 guarded manner ; the door was opened on 
 the chain ; and a voice asked from within, 
 "Is that you, Poole?" 
 
 "It's all right," said Poole. " Open the 
 door." 
 
 The hall, when they entered it, was 
 brightly lighted up ; the fire was built high ;
 
 74 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 and about the hearth the whole of the 
 servants, men and women, stood huddled 
 together like a flock of sheep. At the sight 
 of Mr. Utterson, the housemaid broke into 
 hysterical whimpering ; and the cook, crying 
 out, " Bless God ! it's Mr. Utterson," ran 
 forward as if to take him in her arms. 
 
 "What, what? Are you all here ?" said 
 the lawyer, peevishly. " Very irregular, 
 very unseemly ; your master would be far 
 from pleased." 
 
 " They're all afraid," said Poole. 
 
 Blank silence followed, no one protest- 
 ing ; only the maid lifted up her voice, and 
 now wept loudly. 
 
 " Hold your tongue ! " Poole said to her, 
 with a ferocity of accent that testified to his 
 own jangled nerves ; and indeed when the 
 girl had so suddenly raised the note of her 
 lamentation, they had all started and turned 
 towards the inner door with faces of dread- 
 ful expectation. "And now," continued the 
 butler, addressing the knife-boy, " reach me 
 a candle, and we'll get this through hands
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 75 
 
 at once." And then he begged Mr. Utter- 
 son to follow him, and led the way to the 
 back garden. 
 
 " Now, sir," said he, "you come as gently 
 as you can. I want you to hear, and I don't 
 want you to be heard. And see here, sir, if 
 by any chance he was to ask you in, don't 
 
 go-" 
 
 Mr. Utterson's nerves, at this unlooked- 
 for termination, gave a jerk that nearly 
 threw him from his balance ; but he re-col- 
 lected his courage, and followed the butler 
 into the laboratory building and through the 
 surgical theatre, with its lumber of crates 
 and bottles, to the foot of the stair. Here 
 Poole motioned him to stand on one side 
 and listen ; while he himself, setting down 
 the candle and making a great and obvious 
 call on his resolution, mounted the steps, and 
 knocked with a somewhat uncertain hand on 
 the red baize of the cabinet door. 
 
 "Mr. Utterson, sir, asking to see you," 
 he called ; and even as he did so, once more 
 violently signed to the lawyer to give ear.
 
 76 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 A voice answered from within : " Tell 
 him I cannot see any one," it said, complain- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Poole, with a note 
 of something like triumph in his voice ; and 
 taking up his candle, he led Mr. Utterson 
 back across the yard and into the great 
 kitchen, where the fire was out and the 
 beetles were leaping on the floor. 
 
 " Sir," he said, looking Mr. Utterson in 
 the eyes, "was that my_ rnastejis__Yoic ?J' 
 
 "It seems much changed," replied the 
 lawyer, very pale, but giving look for look. 
 
 "Changed? Well, yes, I think so," said 
 the butler. " Have I been twenty years in 
 this man's house, to be deceived about his 
 voice ? No, sir ; master's made away with ; 
 he was made away with, eight days ago, 
 when we heard him cry out upon the name 
 of God ; and who's in there instead of him, 
 and why it stays there, is a thing that cries 
 to Heaven, Mr. Utterson!" 
 
 " This is a very strange tale, Poole ; this 
 is rather a wild tale, my man," said Mr.
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 77 
 
 Utterson, biting his finger. " Suppose it 
 were as you suppose, supposing Dr. Jekyll 
 to have been well, murdered, what could in- 
 duce the murderer to stay ? That won't hold 
 water ; it doesn't commend itself to reason." 
 "Well, Mr. Utterson, you are a hard man 
 to satisfy, but I'll do it yet," said Poole. "All 
 this last week (you must know) him, or it, or 
 whatever it is that lives in that cabinet, has 
 been crying night and^ day for some sort of 
 medicine and cannotfgetSit toChis) mind. It 
 was sometimes his way the master's, that 
 is to write his orders on a sheet of paper 
 and throw it on the stair. We've had 
 nothing else this week back ; nothing but 
 papers, and a closed door, and the very 
 meals left there to be smuggled in when 
 nobody was looking. Well, sir, every day, 
 ay, and twice and thrice in the same day, 
 there have been orders and complaints, and 
 I have been sent flying to all the wholesale 
 chemists in town. Every time I brought 
 the stuff back, there would be another paper 
 telling me to return it, because it was not
 
 78 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 pure, and another order to a different firm. 
 This drug is wanted bitter bad, sir, whatever 
 for." 
 
 "Have you any of these papers?" asked 
 Mr. Utterson. 
 
 Poole felt in his pocket and handed out a 
 crumpled note, which the lawyer, bending 
 nearer to the candle, carefully examined. 
 Its contents ran thus : " Dr. Jekyll presents 
 his compliments to Messrs. Maw. He as- 
 sures them that their last sample is impure 
 and quite useless for his present purpose. 
 In the year 18 , Dr. J. purchased a some- 
 what large quantity from Messrs. M. He 
 now begs them to search with the most 
 sedulous care, and should any of the 
 same quality be left, to forward it to him at 
 once. Expense is no consideration. The 
 importance of this to Dr. J. can hardly be 
 exaggerated." So far the letter had run 
 composedly enough ; but here, with a sudden 
 splutter of the pen, the writer's emotion had 
 broken loose. " For God's sake," he had 
 added, "find me some of the old."
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 79 
 
 " This is a strange note," said Mr. Utter- 
 son ; and then, sharply, " How do you come 
 to have it open ? " 
 
 " The man at Maw's was main angry, sir, 
 and he threw it back to me like so much 
 dirt," returned Poole. 
 
 " This is unquestionably the doctor's hand, 
 do you know?" resumed the lawyer. 
 
 " I thought it looked like it," said the 
 servant, rather sulkily ; and then, with an- 
 other voice, " But what matters hand of 
 write?" he said. "I've seen him!" 
 
 "Seen him?" repeated Mr. Utterson. 
 "Well?" 
 
 " That's it ! " said Poole. " It was this 
 way. I came suddenly into the theatre from 
 the garden. It seems he had slipped out 
 to look for this drug, or whatever it is ; for 
 the cabinet door was open, and there he was 
 at the far end of the room, digging among 
 the crates. He looked up when I came in, 
 gave a kind of cry, and whipped upstairs 
 into the cabinet. It was but for one minute 
 that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my
 
 80 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 head like quills. Sir, if that was my master, 
 why had he a mask upon his face? If it 
 was my master, why did he cry out like a 
 rat, and run from me ? I have served him 
 long enough. And then . . ." the man 
 paused, and passed his hand over his face. 
 
 " These are all very strange circum- 
 stances," said Mr. Utterson, " but I think 
 I begin to see daylight. Your master, 
 Poole, is plainly seized with one of those 
 maladies that both torture and deform the 
 sufferer ; hence, for aught I know, the altera- 
 tion of his voice ; hence the mask and his 
 avoidance of his friends ; hence his eager- 
 ness to find this drug, by means of which 
 the poor soul retains some hope of ultimate 
 recovery God grant that he be not de- 
 ceived ! There is my explanation ; it is 
 sad enough, Poole, ay, and appalling to 
 consider ; but it is plain and natural, hangs 
 well together, and delivers us from all ex- 
 orbitant alarms." 
 
 " Sir," said the butler, turning to a sort 
 of mottled pallor, " that thing was not my
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 8 1 
 
 master, and there's the truth. My master" 
 here he looked round him, and began to 
 whisper " is a tall fine build of a man, and 
 this was more of a dwarf." Utterson at- 
 tempted to protest. " O, sir," cried Poole, 
 " do you think I do not know my master after 
 twenty years ? do you think I do not know 
 where his head comes to in the cabinet door, 
 where I saw him every morning of my life ? 
 No, sir, that thing in the mask was never 
 Dr. Jekyll God knows what it was, but 
 it was never Dr. Jekyll ; and it is the 
 belief of my heart that there was murder 
 done." 
 
 "Poole," replied the lawyer, "if you say 
 that, it will become my duty to make certain. 
 Much as I desire to spare your master's 
 feelings, much as I am puzzled by this note, 
 which seems to prove him to be still alive, 
 I shall consider it my duty to break in that 
 door." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Utterson, that's talking ! " cried 
 the butler. 
 
 "And now comes the second question," 
 6
 
 82 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 resumed Utterson : " Who is going to do 
 it?" 
 
 " Why, you and me, sir," was the un- 
 daunted reply. 
 
 "That is very well said," returned the 
 lawyer; "and whatever comes of it, I shall 
 make it my business to see you are no 
 loser." 
 
 "There is an axe in the theatre," con- 
 tinued Poole ; " and you might take the 
 kitchen poker for yourself." 
 
 The lawyer took that rude but weighty 
 instrument into his hand, and balanced it. 
 " Do you know, Poole," he said, looking 
 up, " that you and I are about to place our- 
 selves in a position of some peril ? " 
 
 "You may say so, sir, indeed," returned 
 the butler. 
 
 "It is well, then, that we should be 
 frank," said the other. " We both think 
 more than we have said ; let us make a 
 clean breast. This masked figure that you 
 saw, did you recognise it ? " 
 
 "Well, sir, it went so quick, and the
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 83 
 
 creature was so doubled up, that I could 
 hardly swear to that," was the answer. 
 " But if you mean, was it Mr. Hyde ? why, 
 yes, I think it was ! You see, it was much 
 of the same bigness ; and it had the same 
 quick light way with it ; and then who else 
 could have got in by the laboratory door? 
 You have not forgot, sir, that at the time of 
 the murder he had still the key with him? 
 But that's not all. I don't know, Mr. 
 Utterson, if ever you met this Mr. Hyde? " 
 
 " Yes," said the lawyer, " I once spoke 
 with him." 
 
 " Then you must know, as well as the rest 
 of us, that there was something queer about 
 that gentleman something that gave a man 
 a turn I don't know rightly how to say it, 
 sir, beyond this : that you felt it in your 
 marrow kind of cold and thin." 
 
 " I own I felt something of what you 
 describe," said Mr. Utterson. 
 
 "Quite so, sir," returned Poole. "Well, 
 when that masked thing like a monkey 
 jumped from among the chemicals and
 
 84 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 whipped into the cabinet, it went down my 
 spine like ice. O, I know it's not evidence, 
 Mr. Utterson; I'm book-learned enough for 
 that ; but a man has his feelings ; and I give 
 you my bible-word it was Mr. Hyde ! " 
 
 "Ay, ay," said the lawyer. "My fears 
 incline to the same point. Evil, I fear, 
 founded evil was sure to come of that 
 
 connection. Ay, truly, I believe you ; I 
 
 . 
 
 ^ believe poor Harry is killed ; and I believe 
 his murderer (for what purpose, God alone 
 can tell) is still lurking in his victim's room. 
 Well, let our name be vengeance. Call 
 Bradshaw." 
 
 The footman came at the summons, very 
 white and nervous. 
 
 " Pull yourself together, Bradshaw," said 
 the lawyer. "This suspense, I know, is 
 telling upon all of you ; but it is now our 
 intention to make an end of it. Poole, here, 
 and I are going to force our way into the 
 cabinet. If all is well, my shoulders are 
 broad enough to bear the blame. Mean- 
 while, lest anything should really be amiss,
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 85 
 
 or any malefactor seek to escape by the 
 back, you and the boy must go round the 
 corner with a pair of good sticks, and take 
 your post at the laboratory door. We give 
 you ten minutes to get to your stations." 
 
 As Bradshaw left, the lawyer looked at 
 his watch. "And now, Poole, let us get 
 to ours," he said ; and taking the poker 
 under his arm, he led the way into the yard. 
 The scud had banked over the moon, and 
 it was now quite dark. The wind, which 
 only broke in puffs and draughts into that 
 deep well of building, tossed the light of the 
 candle to and fro about their steps, until 
 they came into the shelter of the theatre, 
 where they sat down silently to wait. 
 London hummed solemnly all around ; but 
 nearer at hand, the stillness was only broken 
 by the sound of a footfall moving to and fro 
 along the cabinet floor. 
 
 " So it will walk all day, sir," whispered 
 Poole ; "ay, and the better part of the night. 
 Only when a new sample comes from the 
 chemist, there's a bit of a break. Ah, it's an
 
 86 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 ill conscience that's such an enemy to rest ! 
 Ah, sir, there's blood foully shed in every 
 step of it ! But hark again, a little closer 
 put your heart in your ears, Mr. Utterson, 
 and tell me, is that the doctor's foot ? " 
 
 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. 
 
 "Weeping like a woman or a lost soul," 
 said the butler. " I came away with that 
 upon my heart, that I could have wept 
 too." 
 
 But now the ten minutes drew to an end. 
 Poole disinterred the axe from under a stack 
 of packing straw ; the candle was set upon 
 the nearest table to light them to the attack ; 
 and they drew near with bated breath to
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 87 
 
 where that patient foot was still going up 
 and down, up and down in the quiet of the 
 night. 
 
 "Jekyll," cried Utterson, with a loud 
 voice, " I demand to see you." He paused 
 a moment, but there came no reply. " I 
 give you fair warning, our suspicions are 
 aroused, and I must and shall see you," he 
 resumed ; "if not by fair means, then by 
 foul if not of your consent, then by brute 
 force ! " 
 
 "Utterson," said 'the voice, "for God's 
 sake, have mercy J" 
 
 "Ah, that's not Jekyll's voice it's 
 Hyde's ! " cried Utterson. " Down with 
 the door, Poole ! " 
 
 Poole swung the axe over his shoulder ; 
 the blow shook the building, and the red 
 baize door leaped against the lock and 
 hinges. A dismal screech, as of mere 
 animal terror, rang from the cabinet. Up 
 went the axe again, and again the panels 
 crashed and the frame bounded ; four times 
 the blow fell ; but the wood was tough and
 
 88 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 the fittings were of excellent workmanship ; 
 and it was not until the fifth, that the lock 
 burst in sunder, and the wreck of the door 
 fell inwards on the carpet. 
 
 The besiegers, appalled by their own riot 
 and the stillness that had succeeded, stood 
 back a little and peered in. There lay the 
 cabinet before their eyes in the quiet lamp- 
 light, a good fire glowing and chattering 
 on the hearth, the kettle singing its thin 
 strain, a drawer or two open, papers neatly 
 set forth on the business table, and nearer 
 the fire, the things laid out for tea : the 
 quietest room, you would have said, and, 
 but for the glazed presses full of chemicals, 
 the most commonplace that night in 
 London. 
 
 Right in the midst there lay the body 
 of a man sorely contorted and still twitching. 
 They drew near on tiptoe, turned it on his 
 back, and beheld the face of Edward Hyde. 
 He was dressed in clothes far too large 
 for him, clothes of the doctor's bigness ; 
 the cords of his face still moved with a
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 89 
 
 semblance of life, but life was quite gone ; 
 and by the crushed phial in the hand and 
 the strong smell of kernels that hung upon 
 the air, Utterson knew that he was looking 
 on the body of a self-destroyer. 
 
 " We have come too late," he said 
 sternly, "whether to save or punish. Hyde 
 is gone to his account ; and it only remains 
 for us to find the body of your master." 
 
 The far greater proportion of the build- 
 ing was occupied by the theatre, which 
 filled almost the whole ground storey, and 
 was lighted from above, and by the cabinet, 
 which formed an upper storey at one end 
 and looked upon the court. A corridor 
 joined the theatre to the door on the by- 
 street ; and with this, the cabinet com- 
 municated separately by a second flight of 
 stairs. There were besides a few dark 
 closets and a spacious cellar. All these 
 they now thoroughly examined. Each 
 closet needed but a glance, for all were 
 empty, and all, by the dust that fell from 
 their doors, had stood long unopened.
 
 go DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 The cellar, indeed, was filled with crazy 
 lumber, mostly dating from the times of 
 the surgeon who was Jekyll's predecessor ; 
 but even as they opened the door, they 
 were advertised of the uselessness of further 
 search, by the fall of a perfect mat of cob- 
 web which had for years sealed up the 
 entrance. Nowhere was there any trace 
 of Henry Jekyll, dead or alive. 
 
 Poole stamped on the flags of the corri- 
 dor. "He must be buried here," he said, 
 hearkening to the sound. 
 
 "Or he may have fled," said Utterson, 
 and he turned to examine the door in the 
 by-street. It was locked ; and lying near 
 by on the flags, they found the key, already 
 stained with rust. 
 
 " This does not look like use," observed 
 the lawyer. 
 
 " Use ! " echoed Poole. " Do you not 
 see, sir, it is broken ? much as if a man had 
 stamped on it." 
 
 "Ah," continued Utterson, "and the 
 fractures, too, are rusty." The two men
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. gi 
 
 looked at each other with a scare. "This 
 is beyond me, Poole," said the lawyer. 
 " Let us go back to the cabinet." 
 
 They mounted the stair in silence, and 
 still, with an occasional awestruck glance at 
 the dead body, proceeded more thoroughly 
 to examine the contents of the cabinet. At 
 one table, there were traces of chemical 
 work, various measured heaps of some 
 white salt being laid on glass saucers, as 
 though for an experiment in which the 
 unhappy man had been prevented. 
 
 " That is the same drug that 1 was 
 always bringing him," said Poole ; and 
 even as he spoke, the kettle with a start- 
 ling noise boiled over. 
 
 This brought them to the fireside, where 
 the easy chair was drawn cosily up, and the 
 tea things stood ready to the sitter's elbow, 
 the very sugar in the cup. There were 
 several books on a shelf; one lay beside the 
 tea things open, and Utterson was amazed 
 to find it a copy of a pious work, for which 
 Jekyll had several times expressed a great
 
 92 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 esteem, annotated, in his own hand, with 
 startling blasphemies. 
 
 Next, in the course of their review of the 
 chamber, the searchers came to the cheval 
 glass, into whose depth they looked with an 
 involuntary horror. But it was so turned as 
 to show them nothing but the rosy glow play- 
 ing on the roof, the fire sparkling in a hun- 
 dred repetitions along the glazed front of the 
 presses, and their own pale and fearful 
 countenances stooping to look in. 
 
 " This glass has seen some strange things, 
 sir," whispered Poole. 
 
 "And surely none stranger than itself," 
 echoed the lawyer, in the same tone. u For 
 what did Jekyll " he caught himself up at 
 the word with a start, and then conquering 
 the weakness : " what could Jekyll want with 
 it?" he said. 
 
 " You may say that ! " said Poole. 
 
 Next they turned to the business table. 
 On the desk among the neat array of papers, a 
 large envelope was uppermost, and bore, in 
 the doctor's hand, the name of Mr. Utterson.
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 93 
 
 The lawyer unsealed it, and several en- 
 closures 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 dis- 
 appearance ; but in place of the name of 
 Edward Hyde, the lawyer, with indescrib- 
 able amazement, read the name of Gabriel 
 John Utterson. He looked at Poole, and 
 then back at the papers, and last of all at the 
 dead malefactor stretched upon the carpet. 
 
 " My head goes round," he said. " He 
 has been all these days in possession ; he 
 had no cause to like me ; he must have 
 raged to see himself displaced ; and he has 
 not destroyed this document." 
 
 He caught the next paper ; it was a brief 
 note in the doctor's hand, and dated at the 
 top. " O Poole ! " the lawyer cried, " he was 
 alive and here this day. He cannot have 
 been disposed of in so short a space ; he must 
 be still alive, he must have fled ! And then, 
 why fled? and how? and in that case can
 
 94 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 we venture to declare this suicide? O, we 
 must be careful. I foresee that we may yet 
 involve your master in some dire catastro- 
 phe." 
 
 "Why don't you read it, sir?" asked 
 Poole. 
 
 " Because I fear," replied the lawyer, 
 solemnly. " God grant I have no cause for 
 it ! " And with that he brought the paper 
 to his eye, 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 instincts and 
 all the circumstances of my nameless situa- 
 tion tell me that the end is sure and must be 
 early. Go then, and first read the narrative 
 which Lanyon warned me he was to place in 
 your hands ; and if you care to hear more, 
 turn to the confession of 
 
 " Your unworthy and unhappy friend, 
 
 " HENRY JEKYLL."
 
 THE LAST NIGHT. 95 
 
 " There was a third enclosure ? " asked 
 Utterson. 
 
 " Here, sir," said Poole, and gave into his 
 hands a considerable packet sealed in several 
 places. 
 
 The lawyer put it in his pocket. " I 
 would say nothing of this paper. If your 
 master has fled or is dead, we may at least 
 save his credit. It is now ten ; I must go 
 home and read these documents in quiet ; 
 but I shall be back before midnight, when 
 we shall send for the police." 
 
 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*
 
 9 6 
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. 
 
 ON the ninth of January, now four days ago, 
 I received by the evening delivery a regis- 
 tered envelope, addressed in the hand of my 
 colleague and old school-companion, Henry 
 Jekyll. I was a good deal surprised by this ; 
 for we were by no means in the habit of 
 correspondence ; I had seen the man, dined 
 with him, indeed, the night before ; and I 
 could imagine nothing in our intercourse that 
 should justify the formality of registration. 
 The contents increased my wonder ; for this 
 is how the letter ran : 
 
 " 10 f A December, 18 
 
 " Dear Lanyon, You are one of my 
 oldest friends ; and although we may have 
 differed at times on scientific questions, I 
 cannot remember, at least on my side, any 
 break in our affection. There was never a
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. 97 
 
 day when, if you had said to me, ' Jekyll, 
 my life, my honour, my reason, depend upon 
 you,' I would not have sacrificed my fortune 
 or my left hand to help you. Lanyon, my 
 life, my honour, my reason, are all at your 
 mercy ; if you fail me to-night, I am lost. 
 You might suppose, after this preface, that I 
 am going to ask you for something dis- 
 honourable to grant. Judge for yourself. 
 
 " I want you to postpone all other engage- 
 ments for to-night ay, even if you were 
 summoned to the bedside of an emperor ; to 
 take a cab, unless your carriage should be 
 actually at the door ; and, with this letter in 
 your hand for consultation, to drive straight 
 to my house. Poole, my butler, has his 
 orders ; you will find him waiting your 
 arrival with a locksmith. The door of my 
 cabinet is then to be forced ; and you are to 
 go in alone ; to open the glazed press (letter 
 E) on the left hand, breaking the lock if it 
 te shut ; and to draw out, with all its 
 contents as they stand, the fourth drawer from 
 
 the top or (which is the same thing) the 
 
 7
 
 98 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 third from the bottom. In my extreme 
 distress of mind, I have a morbid fear of 
 misdirecting you ; but even if I am in error, 
 you may know the right drawer by its con- 
 tents : some powders, a phial, and a paper book. 
 This drawer I beg of you to carry back with 
 you to Cavendish Square exactly as it stands. 
 " That is the first part of the service : now 
 for the second. You should be back, if you 
 set out at once on the receipt of this, long 
 before midnight ; but I will leave you that 
 amount of margin, not only in the fear of one 
 of those obstacles that can neither be pre- 
 vented nor foreseen, but because an hour 
 when your servants are in bed is to be pre- 
 ferred for what will then remain to do. At 
 midnight, then, I have to ask you to be 
 alone in your consulting room, to admit with 
 your own hand into the house a man who 
 will present himself in my name, and to 
 place in his hands the drawer that you will 
 have brought with you from my cabinet. 
 Then you will have played your part, and 
 earned my gratitude completely. Five
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. 99 
 
 minutes afterwards, if you insist upon an 
 explanation, you will have understood that 
 these arrangements are of capital import- 
 ance ; and that by the neglect of one of 
 them, fantastic as they must appear, you 
 might have charged your conscience with 
 my death or the shipwreck of my reason. 
 
 " Confident as I am that you will not trifle 
 with this appeal, my heart sinks and my 
 hand trembles at the bare thought of such 
 a possibility. Think of me at this hour, in a 
 strange place, labouring under a blackness of 
 distress that no fancy can exaggerate, and 
 yet well aware that, if you will but punctu- 
 ally serve me, my troubles will roll away like 
 a story that is told. Serve me, my dear 
 Lanyon, and save 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 " H. J. 
 
 " P.S. I had already sealed this up when 
 a fresh terror struck upon my soul. It is 
 possible that the post office may fail me, and 
 this letter not come into your hands until to-
 
 100 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 morrow morning. In that case, dear Lanyon, 
 do my errand when it shall be most con- 
 venient for you in the course of the day ; and 
 once more expect my messenger at mid- 
 night. It may then already be too late ; and 
 if that night passes without event, you will 
 know that you have seen the last of Henry 
 Jekyll." 
 
 Upon the reading of this letter, I made 
 sure my colleague was insane ; but till that 
 was proved beyond the possibility of doubt, 
 I felt bound to do as he requested. The 
 less I understood of this farrago, the less I 
 was in a position to judge of its importance ; 
 and an appeal so worded could not be set 
 aside without a grave responsibility. I rose 
 accordingly from table, got into a hansom, 
 and drove straight to Jekyll's house. The 
 butler was awaiting my arrival ; he had re- 
 ceived by the same post as mine a registered 
 letter of instruction, and had sent at once for 
 a locksmith and a carpenter. The trades- 
 men came while we were yet speaking ; and
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. IOI 
 
 we moved in a body to old Dr. Denman's 
 surgical theatre, from which (as you are 
 doubtless aware) Jekyll's private cabinet is 
 most conveniently entered. The door was 
 very strong, the lock excellent; the carpenter 
 avowed he would have great trouble, and 
 have to do much damage, if force were to be 
 used ; and the locksmith was near despair. 
 But this last was a handy fellow, and after 
 two hours' work, the door stood open. The 
 press marked E was unlocked ; and I took 
 out the drawer, had it filled up with straw 
 and tied in a sheet, and returned with it to 
 Cavendish Square. 
 
 Here I proceeded to examine its contents. 
 The powders were neatly enough made up, 
 but not with the nicety of the dispensing 
 chemist ; so that it was plain they were of 
 Jekyll's private manufacture ; and when I 
 opened one of the wrappers, I found what 
 seemed to me a simple crystalline salt of a 
 white colour. The phial, to which I next 
 turned my attention, might have been about 
 half full of a blood-red liquor, which was
 
 102 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDR. 
 
 highly pungent to the sense of smell, and 
 seemed to me to contain phosphorus and 
 some volatile ether. At the other ingredi- 
 ents I could make no guess. The book was 
 an ordinary version book, and contained little 
 but a series of dates. These covered a 
 period of many years ; but I observed that 
 the entries ceased nearly a year ago, and 
 quite abruptly. Here and there a brief remark 
 was appended to a date, usually no more 
 than a single word: "double" occurring 
 perhaps six times in a total of several 
 hundred entries ; and once very early in the 
 list, and followed by several marks of ex- 
 clamation, "total failure!!!" All this, 
 though it whetted my curiosity, told me little 
 that was definite. Here were a phial of 
 some tincture, a paper of some salt, and the 
 record of a series of experiments that had led 
 (like too many of Jekyll's investigations) to 
 no end of practical usefulness. How could 
 the presence of these articles in my house 
 affect either the honour, the sanity, or the 
 life of my flighty colleague ? If his messenger
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. 103 
 
 could go to one place, why could he not go 
 to another? And even granting some im- 
 pediment, why was this gentleman to be 
 received by me in secret ? The more I re- 
 flected, the more convinced I grew that I 
 was dealing with a case of cerebral disease ; 
 and though I dismissed my servants to 
 bed, I loaded an old revolver, that I might 
 be found in some posture of self-defence. 
 
 Twelve o'clock had scarce rung out over 
 London, ere the knocker sounded very gently 
 on the door. I went myself at the summons, 
 and found a small man crouching against the 
 pillars of the portico. 
 
 "Are you come from Dr. Jekyll?" I 
 asked. 
 
 He told me " yes " by a constrained ges- 
 ture ; and when I had bidden him enter, he 
 did not obey me without a searching back- 
 ward glance into the darkness of the square. 
 There was a policeman not far off, advanc- 
 ing with his bull's eye open ; and at the 
 sight, I thought my visitor started and made 
 greater haste.
 
 104 DR - yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 These particulars struck me, I confess, 
 disagreeably ; and as I followed him into the 
 bright light of the consulting room, I kept 
 my hand ready on my weapon. Here, at 
 last, I had a chance of clearly seeing him. 
 I had never set eyes on him before, so much 
 was certain. He was small, as I have said ; 
 I was struck besides with the shocking ex- 
 pression of his face, with his remarkable 
 combination of great muscular activity and 
 great apparent debility of constitution, and 
 last but not least with the odd, subjective 
 disturbance caused by his neighbourhood. 
 This bore some resemblance to incipient 
 rigor, and was accompanied by a marked 
 sinking of the pulse. At the time, I set it 
 down to some idiosyncratic, personal distaste, 
 and merely wondered at the acuteness of the 
 symptoms ; but I have since had reason to 
 believe the cause to lie much deeper in the 
 nature of man, and to turn on some nobler 
 hinge than the principle of hatred. 
 
 This person (who had thus, from the first 
 moment of his entrance, struck in me what I
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. 105 
 
 can only describe as a disgustful curiosity) 
 was dressed in a fashion that would have 
 made an ordinary person laughable ; his 
 clothes, that is to say, although they were of 
 rich and sober fabric, were enormously too 
 large for him in every measurement the 
 trousers hanging on his legs and rolled up to 
 keep them from the ground, the waist of the 
 coat below his haunches, and the collar 
 sprawling wide upon his shoulders. Strange 
 to relate, this ludicrous accoutrement was far 
 from moving me to laughter. Rather, as 
 there was something abnormal and mis- 
 begotten in the very essence of the creature 
 that now faced me something seizing, sur- 
 prising and revolting this fresh disparity 
 seemed but to fit in with and to reinforce it ; 
 so that to my interest in the man's nature 
 and character, there was added a curiosity as 
 to his origin, his life, his fortune and status 
 in the world. 
 
 These observations, though they have 
 taken so great a space to be set down in, 
 were yet the work of a few seconds. My
 
 106 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 visitor was, indeed, on fire with sombre 
 excitement. 
 
 " Have you got it?" he cried. "Have 
 you got it ? " And so lively was his im- 
 patience that he even laid his hand upon 
 my arm and sought to shake me. 
 
 I put him back, conscious at his touch of 
 a certain icy pang along my blood. " Come, 
 sir," said I. " You forget that I have not 
 yet the pleasure of your acquaintance. Be 
 seated, if you please." And I showed him 
 an example, and sat down myself in my 
 customary seat and with as fair an imitation 
 of my ordinary manner to a patient, as the 
 lateness of the hour, the nature of my 
 pre-occupations, and the horror I had of my 
 visitor, would suffer me to muster. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Dr. Lanyon," he 
 replied, civilly enough. " What you say is 
 very well founded ; and my impatience has 
 shown its heels to my politeness. I come 
 here at the instance of your colleague, Dr. 
 Henry Jekyll, on a piece of business of some 
 moment; and I understood ..." he paused
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. 107 
 
 and put his hand to his throat, and I could 
 see, in spite of his collected manner, that he 
 was wrestling against the approaches of the 
 hysteria " I understood, a drawer ..." 
 
 But here I took pity on my visitor's sus- 
 pense, and some perhaps on my own grow- 
 ing curiosity. 
 
 " There it is, sir," said I, pointing to the 
 drawer, where it lay on the floor behind a 
 table, and still covered with the sheet. 
 
 He sprang to it, and then paused, and laid 
 his hand upon his heart ; I could hear his 
 teeth grate with the convulsive action of his 
 jaws ; and his face was so ghastly to see that 
 I grew alarmed both for his life and reason. 
 
 " Compose yourself," said I. 
 
 He turned a dreadful smile to me, and, as 
 if with the decision of despair, plucked away 
 the sheet. At sight of the contents, he 
 uttered one loud sob of such immense relief 
 that I sat petrified. And the next moment, 
 in a voice that was already fairly well under 
 control, " Have you a graduated glass ? " 
 he asked.
 
 108 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 I rose from my place with something of 
 an effort, and gave him what he asked. 
 
 He thanked me with a smiling nod, 
 measured out a few minims of the red tinc- 
 ture and added one of the powders. The mix- 
 ture, which was at first of a reddish hue, be- 
 gan, in proportion as the crystals melted, to 
 brighten in colour, to effervesce audibly, and to 
 throw off small fumes of vapour. Suddenly, 
 and at the same moment, the ebullition ceased, 
 and the compound changed to a dark purple, 
 which faded again more slowly to a watery 
 green. My visitor, who had watched these 
 metamorphoses with a keen eye, smiled, set 
 down the glass upon the table, and then 
 turned and looked upon me with an air of 
 scrutiny. 
 
 "And now," said he, "to settle what re- 
 mains. Will you be wise? will you be 
 guided ? will you suffer me to take this glass 
 in my hand, and to go forth from your house 
 without further parley ? or has the greed of 
 curiosity too much command of you ? Think 
 before you answer, for it shall be done as you
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. log 
 
 decide. As you decide, you shall be left as 
 you were before, and neither richer nor 
 wiser, unless the sense of service rendered 
 to a man in mortal distress may be counted 
 as a kind of riches of the soul. Or, if you 
 shall so prefer to choose, a new province of 
 knowledge and new avenues to fame and 
 power shall be laid open to you, here, in this 
 room, upon the instant ; and your sight shall 
 be blasted by a prodigy to stagger the un- 
 belief of Satan." 
 
 " Sir," said I, affecting a coolness that 
 I was far from truly possessing, " you speak 
 enigmas, and you will perhaps not wonder 
 that I hear you with no very strong impres- 
 sion of belief. But I have gone too far in 
 the__way of inexplicable services^ to pause 
 before I see the end." 
 
 " It is well," replied my visitor. " Lanyon, 
 you remember your vows : what follows is 
 under the seal QLQur_prpfession. And now, 
 you who have so long been bound to the 
 most narrow and material views, you who 
 have denied the virtue of transcendental
 
 110 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 medicine, you who have derided your 
 superiors behold ! " 
 
 He put the glass to his lips, and drank 
 at one gulp. A cry followed ; he reeled, 
 staggered, clutched at the table and held on, 
 staring with injected eyes, gasping with open 
 mouth ; and as I looked, there came, I 
 thought, a change he seemed to swell his 
 face became suddenly black, and the features 
 seemed to melt and alter and the next 
 moment I had sprung to my feet and leaped 
 back against the wall, my arm raised to 
 shield me from that prodigy, my mind sub- 
 merged in terror. 
 
 "O God!" I screamed, and "O God!" 
 again and again ; for there before my eyes 
 pale and shaken, and half fainting, and grop- 
 ing before him with his hands, like a man 
 restored from death there stood Henry 
 Jekyll ! 
 
 What he told me in the next hour I can- 
 not bring my mind to set on paper. I saw 
 what I saw, I heard what I heard, and my 
 soul sickened at it ; and yet, now when that
 
 DR. LANYON'S NARRATIVE. Ill 
 
 sight has faded from my eyes I ask myself 
 if I believe it, and I cannot answer. My life 
 is shaken to its roots ; sleep has left me ; the 
 deadliest terror sits by me at all hours of the 
 day and night ; I feel that my days are 
 numbered, and that I must die; 
 
 Hje ii^rednlniis. As for the moral 
 turpitude that man unveiled to me, even with 
 tears of penitence, I cannot, even in memory, 
 dwell on it without a start of horror. I will 
 say but one thing, Utterson, and that (if you 
 can bring your mind to credit it) will be 
 more than enough. The creature who crept 
 into my house that night was, on Jekyll's 
 own confession, known by the name of Hyde 
 and hunted for in every corner of the land 
 as the murderer of Carew. 
 
 HASTIE LANYON.
 
 112 
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S FULL STATEMENT 
 OF THE CASE. 
 
 I WAS born in the year 18 to a large for- 
 tune, endowed besides with excellent parts, 
 inclined by nature to industry, fond of the 
 respect of the wise and good among my 
 fellow-men, and thus, as might have been 
 supposed, with every guarantee of an honour- 
 able and distinguished future. And indeed, 
 the worst of my faults was a certain im- 
 patient gaiety of disposition, such as has 
 made the happiness of many, but such as I 
 found it hard to reconcile with my imperious 
 desire to carry my head high, and wear a 
 more than commonly grave countenance be- 
 fore the public. Hence it came about that 
 I concealed my pleasures ; and that when I 
 reached years of reflection, and began to 
 look round me, and take stock of my pro-
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 113 
 
 gress and position in the world, I stood 
 already committed to a profound duplicity of 
 life. Many a man would have even blazoned 
 such irregularities as I was guilty of; but 
 from the high views that I had set before 
 me, I regarded and hid them with an almost 
 morbid sense of shame. It was thus rather 
 the exacting nature of my aspirations, than 
 any particular degradation in my faults, that 
 made me what I was, and, with even a deeper 
 trench than in the majority of men, severed 
 in me those provinces of good and ill which 
 divide and compound man's dual nature. In 
 this case, I was driven to reflect deeply and 
 inveterately on that hard law of life, which 
 lies at the root of religion, and is one of the 
 most plentiful springs of distress. Though 
 so profound a double-dealer, I was in no 
 sense a hypocrite ; both sides of me were in 
 dead earnest ; I was no more myself when \ 
 I laid aside restraint and plunged in shame, \ 
 than when I laboured, in the eye of day, at 
 the furtherance of knowledge or the relief of 
 
 sorrow and suffering. And it chanced that 
 
 8
 
 114 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 the direction of my scientific studies, which 
 led wholly towards the mystic and the trans- 
 cendental, reacted and shed a strong light 
 on this consciousness of the perennial war 
 among my members. With every day, and 
 from both sides of my intelligence, the moral 
 and the intellectual, I thus drew steadily 
 nearer to that truth, by whose partial dis- 
 covery I have been doomed to such a dread- 
 ful shipwreck : that man is not truly one, but 
 truly two. I say two, because the state of 
 my own knowledge does not pass beyond 
 that point. Others will follow, others will 
 outstrip me on the same lines ; and I hazard 
 the guess that man will be ultimately known 
 for a mere polity of multifarious, incongruous 
 and independent denizens. I, for my part, 
 from the nature of my life, advanced in- 
 fallibly in one direction, and in one direction 
 only. It was on the moral side, and in my 
 own person, that I learned to recognise the 
 thorough and primitive duality of man ; I 
 saw that, of the two natures that contended 
 in the field of my consciousness, even if I
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 115 
 
 could rightly be said to be either, it was only 
 because I was radically both ; and from an 
 early date, even before the course of my 
 scientific discoveries had begun to suggest 
 the most naked possibility of such a miracle, 
 I had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a 
 beloved daydream, on the thought of the 
 separation of these elements. If each, I 
 told myself, could but be housed in separate 
 identities, life would be relieved of all that 
 was unbearable ; the unjust might go his 
 way, delivered from the aspirations and re- 
 morse of his more upright twin ; and the just 
 could walk steadfastly and securely on his 
 upward path, doing the good things in which 
 he found his pleasure, and no longer exposed 
 to disgrace and penitence by the hands of 
 this extraneous evil. It was the curse of 
 mankind that these incongruous faggots were 
 thus bound together that in the agonised 
 womb of consciousness, these polar twins 
 should be continuously struggling. How, 
 then, were they dissociated ? 
 
 I was so far in my reflections, when, as I
 
 Il6 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 have said, a side light began to shine upon 
 the subject from the laboratory table. I be- 
 gan to perceive more deeply than it has ever 
 yet been stated, the trembling immateriality, 
 the mist-like transience, of this seemingly so 
 solid body in which we walk attired. Cer- 
 tain agents I found to have the power to 
 shake and to pluck back that fleshly vest- 
 ment, even as a wind might toss the curtains 
 of a pavilion. For two good reasons, I will 
 not enter deeply into this scientific branch of 
 my confession. First, because I have been 
 made to learn that the doom and burthen of 
 our life is bound for ever on man's shoulders ; 
 and when the attempt is made to cast it off, 
 it but returns upon us with more unfamiliar 
 and more awful pressure. Second, because, 
 as my narrative will make, alas ! too evident, 
 my discoveries were incomplete. Enough, 
 then, that I not only recognised my natural 
 body from the mere aura and effulgence of 
 certain of the powers that made up my spirit, 
 but managed to compound a drug by which 
 these powers should be dethroned from their
 
 HENRY JEKYLUS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 117 
 
 supremacy, and a second form and counte- 
 nance substituted, none the less natural to me 
 because they were the expression, and bore 
 the stamp, of lower elements in my soul. 
 
 I hesitated long before I put this theory 
 to the test of practice. I knew well that I 
 risked death ; for any drug that so potently 
 controlled and shook the very fortress of 
 identity, might by the least scruple of an 
 overdose or at the least inopportunity in the 
 moment of exhibition, utterly blot out that 
 immaterial tabernacle which I looked to it 
 to change. But the temptation of a dis- 
 covery so singular and profound, at last over- 
 came the suggestions of alarm. I had long 
 since prepared my tincture ; I purchased at 
 once, from a firm of wholesale chemists, a 
 large quantity of a particular salt, which I 
 knew, from my experiments, to be the last 
 ingredient required ; and, late one accursed 
 night, I compounded the elements, watched 
 them boil and smoke together in the glass, 
 and when the ebullition had subsided, with a 
 strong glow of courage, drank off the potion.
 
 Il8 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 The most racking pangs succeeded : a 
 grinding in the bones, deadly nausea, and a 
 horror of the spirit that cannot be exceeded 
 at the hour of birth or death. Then these 
 agonies began swiftly to subside, and I came 
 to myself as if out of a great sickness. 
 There was something strange in my sensa- 
 tions, something indescribably new, and, from 
 its very novelty, incredibly sweet. I felt 
 younger, lighter, happier in body ; within 
 I was conscious of a heady recklessness, a 
 current of disordered sensual images running 
 like a mill race in my fancy, a solution of the 
 bonds of obligation, an unknown but not an 
 innocent freedom of the soul. I knew my- 
 self, at the first breath of this new life, to be 
 more wicked, tenfold more wicked, sold a 
 slave to my original evil ; and the thought, 
 in that moment, braced and delighted me 
 like wine. I stretched out my hands, exult- 
 ing in the freshness of these sensations ; and 
 in the act, I was suddenly aware that I had 
 lost in stature. 
 
 There was no mirror, at that date, in
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE, lig 
 
 my room ; that which stands beside me as 
 I write was brought there later on, and for 
 the very purpose of those transformations. 
 The night, however, was far gone into the 
 morning the morning, black as it was, was 
 nearly ripe for the conception of the day 
 the inmates of my house were locked in the 
 most rigorous hours of slumber ; and I 
 determined, flushed as I was with hope and 
 triumph, to venture in my new shape as far 
 as to my bedroom. I crossed the yard, 
 wherein the constellations looked down upon 
 me, I could have thought, with wonder, the 
 first creature of that sort that their unsleep- 
 ing vigilance had yet disclosed to them ; I 
 stole through the corridors, a stranger in my 
 own house ; and coming to my room, I saw 
 for the first time the appearance of Edward 
 Hyde. 
 
 I must here speak by theory alone, say- 
 ing not that which I know, but that which I 
 suppose to be most probable. The evil side 
 of my nature, to which I had now transferred 
 the stamping efficacy, was less robust and
 
 120 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 less developed than the good which I had 
 just deposed. Again, in the course of my 
 life, which had been, after all, nine-tenths a 
 life of effort, virtue and control, it had been 
 much less exercised and much less ex- 
 hausted. And hence, as I think, it came 
 about that Edward Hyde was so much 
 smaller, slighter, and younger than Henry 
 Jekyll. Even as good shone upon the 
 countenance of the one, evil was written 
 broadly and plainly on the face of the 
 other. Evil besides (which I must still be- 
 lieve to be the lethal side of man) had left on 
 'that body an imprint of deformity and decay. 
 And yet when I looked upon that ugly idol 
 in the glass, I was conscious of no repug- 
 nance, rather of a leap of welcome. This, 
 too, was myself. It seemed natural and 
 human. In my eyes it bore a livelier image 
 of the spirit, it seemed more express and 
 single, than the imperfect and divided 
 countenance I had been hitherto accustomed 
 to call mine. And in so far I was doubtless 
 right. I have observed that when I wore the
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 121 
 
 semblance of Edward Hyde, none could 
 come near to me at first without a visible 
 misgiving of the flesh. This, as I take it, 
 was because all human beings, as we meet 
 them, are commingled out of good and evil : 
 and Edward Hyde, alone, in the ranks of 
 mankind, was pure evil. 
 
 I lingered but a moment at the mirror : 
 the second and conclusive experiment had 
 yet to be attempted ; it yet remained to be 
 seen if I had lost my identity beyond re- 
 demption and must flee before daylight from 
 a house that was no longer mine : and hurry- 
 ing back to my cabinet, I once more pre- : 
 pared and drank the cup, once more suffered 
 the pangs of dissolution, and came to myself 
 once more with the character, the stature, 
 and the face of Henry Jekyll. 
 
 That night I had come to the fatal cross 
 roads. Had I approached my discovery in 
 a more noble spirit, had I risked the experi- 
 ment while under the empire of generous or 
 pious aspirations, all must have been other- 
 wise, and from these agonies of death and
 
 122 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 birth I had come forth an angel instead of 
 a fiend. The drug had no discriminating 
 action ; it was neither diabolical nor divine ; 
 it but shook the doors of the prison-house of 
 my disposition ; and, like the captives of 
 Philippi, that which stood within ran forth. 
 At that time my virtue slumbered ; my evil, 
 kept awake by ambition, was alert and swift 
 to seize the occasion ; and the thing that 
 was projected was Edward Hyde. Hence, 
 although I had now two characters as well 
 as two appearances, one was wholly evil, and 
 the other was still the old Henry Jekyll, that 
 incongruous compound of whose reformation 
 and improvement I had already learned to 
 despair. The movement was thus wholly 
 toward the worse. 
 
 Even at that time, I had not yet conquered 
 my aversion to the dryness of a life of study. 
 I would still be merrily disposed at times ; 
 and as my pleasures were (to say the least) 
 undignified, and I was not only well known 
 and highly considered, but growing towards 
 the elderly man, this incoherency of my life
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 12$ 
 
 was daily growing more unwelcome. It was 
 on this side that my new power tempted me 
 until I fell in slavery. I had but to drink 
 the cup, to doff at once the body of the 
 noted professor, and to assume, like a thick 
 cloak, that of Edward Hyde. I smiled at 
 the notion ; it seemed to me at the time to 
 be humorous ; and I made my preparations 
 with the most studious care. I took and 
 furnished that house in Soho, to which 
 Hyde was tracked by the police ; and en- 
 gaged as housekeeper a creature whom I 
 well knew to be silent and unscrupulous. 
 On the other side, I announced to my ser- 
 vants that a Mr. Hyde (whom I described) 
 was to have full liberty and power about my 
 house in the square ; and, to parry mishaps. 
 I even called and made myself a familiar 
 object, in my second character. I next drew 
 up that will to which you so much objected ; 
 so that if anything befell me in the person 
 of Dr. Jekyll, I could enter on that of 
 Edward Hyde without pecuniary loss. And 
 thus fortified, as I supposed, on every side,
 
 124 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 I began to profit by the strange immunities 
 of my position. 
 
 Men have before hired bravos to transact 
 their crimes, while their own person and 
 reputation sat under shelter. I was the first 
 that ever did so for his pleasures. I was the 
 first that could thus plod in the public eye 
 with a load of genial respectability, and in 
 a moment, like a schoolboy, strip off these 
 lendings and spring headlong into the sea of 
 liberty. But for me, in my impenetrable 
 mantle, the safety was complete. Think of 
 it I did not even exist ! Let me but es- 
 cape into my laboratory door, give me but 
 a second or two to mix and swallow the 
 draught that I had always standing ready ; 
 and, whatever he had done, Edward Hyde 
 would pass away like the stain of breath 
 upon a mirror ; and there in his stead, 
 quietly at home, trimming the midnight 
 lamp in his study, a man who could afford 
 to laugh at suspicion, would be Henry 
 Jekyll. 
 
 The pleasures which I made haste to seek
 
 HENRY JEKYLVS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 125 
 
 in my disguise were, as I have said, undigni- 
 fied ; I would scarce use a harder term. 
 But in the hands of Edward Hyde, they 
 soon began to turn towards the monstrous. 
 When I would come back from these ex- 
 cursions, I was often plunged into a kind of 
 wonder at my vicarious depravity. This 
 familiar that I called out of my own soul, 
 and sent forth alone to do his good pleasure, 
 was a being inherently malign and villainous ; 
 his every act and thought centred on self; 
 drinking pleasure with bestial avidity from 
 any degree of torture to another ; relentless 
 like a man of stone. Henry Jekyll stood 
 at times aghast before the acts of Edward 
 Hyde ; but the situation was apart from or- 
 dinary laws, and insidiously relaxed the 
 grasp of conscience. It was Hyde, after 
 all, and Hyde alone, that was guilty. Jekyll 
 was no worse ; he woke again to his good 
 qualities seemingly unimpaired ; he would 
 even make haste, where it was possible, to 
 undo the evil done by Hyde. And thus 
 his conscience slumbered.
 
 126 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 Into the details of the infamy at which I 
 thus connived (for even now I can scarce 
 grant that I committed it) I have no design 
 of entering ; I mean but to point out the 
 warnings and the successive steps with which 
 my chastisement approached. I met with 
 one accident which, as it brought on no 
 consequence, I shall no more than mention. 
 An act of cruelty to a child aroused against 
 me the anger of a passer-by, whom I recog- 
 nised the other day in the person of your 
 kinsman ; the doctor and the child's family 
 joined him ; there were moments when I 
 feared for my life ; and at last, in order to 
 pacify their too just resentment, Edward 
 Hyde had to bring them to the door, and 
 pay them in a cheque drawn in the name of 
 Henry Jekyll. But this danger was easily 
 eliminated from the future, by opening an 
 account at another bank in the name of 
 Edward Hyde himself ; and when, by slop- 
 ing my own hand backwards, I had supplied 
 my double with a signature, I thought I sat 
 beyond the reach of fate.
 
 HENRY JEKYLUS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 127 
 
 Some two months before the murder of 
 Sir Danvers, I had been out for one of my 
 adventures, had returned at a late hour, and 
 woke the next day in bed with somewhat 
 odd sensations. It was in vain I looked 
 about me ; in vain I saw the decent furni- 
 ture and tall proportions of my room in the 
 square ; in vain that I recognised the pattern 
 of the bed curtains and the design of the 
 mahogany frame ; something still kept in- 
 sisting that I was not where I was, that I 
 had not wakened where I seemed to be, 
 but in the little room in Soho where I was 
 accustomed to sleep in the body of Edward 
 Hyde. I smiled to myself, and, in my 
 psychological way, began lazily to inquire 
 into the elements of this illusion, occasionally, 
 even as I did so, dropping back into a com- 
 fortable morning doze. I was still so en- 
 gaged when, in one of my more wakeful 
 moments, my eye fell upon my hand. Now, 
 the hand of Henry Jekyll (as you have often 
 remarked) was professional in shape and size ; 
 it was large, firm, white and comely. But
 
 128 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 the hand which I now saw, clearly enough, 
 in the yellow light of a mid-London morning, 
 lying half shut on the bedclothes, was lean, 
 corded, knuckly, of a dusky pallor, and thickly 
 shaded with a swart growth of hair. It 
 was the hand of Edward Hyde. 
 
 I must have stared upon it for near half 
 a minute, sunk as I was in the mere stupidity 
 of wonder, before terror woke up in my 
 breast as sudden and startling as the crash 
 of cymbals ; and bounding from my bed, 
 I rushed to the mirror. At the sight that 
 met my eyes, my blood was changed into 
 something exquisitely thin and icy. Yes, I 
 had gone to bed Henry Jekyll, I had 
 awakened Edward Hyde. How was this 
 to be explained ? I asked myself ; and then, 
 with another bound of terror how was it 
 to be remedied? It was well on in the 
 morning ; the servants were up ; all my 
 drugs were in the cabinet a long journey, 
 down two pair of stairs, through the back 
 passage, across the open court and through 
 the anatomical theatre, from where I was
 
 HENRY JEKYLUS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. I2g 
 
 then standing horror-struck. It might indeed 
 be possible to cover my face ; but of what 
 use was that, when. I was unable to conceal 
 the alteration in my stature ? And then, 
 with an overpowering sweetness of relief, it 
 came back upon my mind that the servants 
 were already used to the coming and going 
 of my second self. I had soon dressed, as 
 well as I was able, in clothes of my own 
 size : had soon passed through the house, 
 where Bradshaw stared and drew back at 
 seeing Mr. Hyde at such an hour and in 
 such a strange array ; and ten minutes later, 
 Dr. Jekyll had returned to his own shape, 
 and was sitting down, with a darkened brow, 
 to make a feint of breakfasting. 
 
 Small indeed was my appetite. This in- 
 explicable incident, this reversal of my pre- 
 vious experience, seemed, like the Babylonian 
 finger on the wall, to be spelling out the 
 letters of my judgment ; and I began to 
 reflect more seriously than ever before on 
 the issues and possibilities of my double ex- 
 istence. That part of me which I had the
 
 130 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 power of projecting had lately been much 
 exercised and nourished ; it had seemed to 
 me of late as though the body of Edward 
 Hyde had grown in stature, as though (when 
 I wore that form) I were conscious of a 
 more generous tide of blood ; and I began 
 to spy a danger that, if this were much pro- 
 longed, the balance of my nature might be 
 permanently overthrown, the power of 
 voluntary change be forfeited, and the 
 character of Edward Hyde become irrevoc- 
 ably mine. The power of the drug had not 
 been always equally displayed. Once, very 
 early in my career, it had totally failed me ; 
 since then I had been obliged on more than 
 one occasion to double, and once, with 
 infinite risk of death, to treble the amount ; 
 and these rare uncertainties had cast hitherto 
 the sole shadow on my contentment. Now, 
 however, and in the light of that morning's 
 accident, I was led to remark that whereas, 
 in the beginning, the difficulty had been to 
 throw off the body of Jekyll, it had of late 
 gradually but decidedly transferred itself to
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 131 
 
 
 
 the other side. All things therefore seemed 
 to point to this : that I was slowly losing 
 hold of my original and better self, and be- 
 coming slowly incorporated with my second 
 and worse. 
 
 Between these two, I now felt I had 
 to choose. My two natures had memory 
 in common, but all other faculties were most 
 unequally shared between them. Jekyll 
 (who was composite) now with the most 
 sensitive apprehensions, now with a greedy 
 gusto, projected and shared in the pleasures 
 and adventures of Hyde ; but Hyde was 
 indifferent to Jekyll, or but remembered 
 him as the mountain bandit remembers the 
 cavern in which he conceals himself from 
 pursuit. Jekyll had more than a father's 
 interest ; Hyde had more than a son's in- 
 difference. To cast in my lot with Jekyll 
 was to die to those appetites which I had 
 long secretly indulged and had of late begun 
 to pamper. To cast it in with Hyde was to 
 die to a thousand interests and aspirations, 
 and to become, at a blow and for ever,
 
 132 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 despised and friendless. The bargain might 
 appear unequal ; but there was still another 
 consideration in the scales ; for while Jekyll 
 would suffer smartingly in the fires of 
 abstinence, Hyde would be not even con- 
 scious of all that he had lost. Strange as 
 my circumstances were, the terms of this 
 debate are as old and commonplace as 
 man ; much the same inducements and 
 alarms cast the die for any tempted and 
 trembling sinner ; and it fell out with me, 
 as it falls with so vast a majority of my 
 fellows, that I chose the better part, and 
 was found wanting in the strength to keep 
 to it. 
 
 Yes, I preferred the elderly and discon- 
 tented doctor, surrounded by friends, and 
 cherishing honest hopes ; and bade a resolute 
 farewell to the liberty, the comparative 
 youth, the light step, leaping pulses and 
 secret pleasures, that I had enjoyed in the 
 disguise of Hyde. I made this choice per- 
 haps with some unconscious reservation, for 
 I neither gave up the house in Soho, nor de-
 
 HENRY yEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 133 
 
 stroyed the clothes of Edward Hyde, which 
 still lay ready in my cabinet. For two 
 months, however, I was true to my determin- 
 ation ; for two months I led a life of such 
 severity as I had never before attained to, 
 and enjoyed the compensations of an approv- 
 ing conscience. But time began at last to 
 obliterate the freshness of my alarm ; the 
 praises of conscience began to grow into a 
 thing of course ; I began to be tortured with 
 throes and longings, as of Hyde struggling 
 after freedom ; and at last, in an hour of 
 moral weakness, I once again compounded 
 and swallowed the transforming draught. 
 
 I do not suppose that when a drunkard 
 reasons with himself upon his vice, he is 
 once out of five hundred times affected by 
 the dangers that he runs through his brutish 
 physical insensibility ; neither had I, long as 
 I had considered my position, made enough 
 allowance for the complete moral insensibility 
 and insensate readiness to evil, which were 
 the leading characters of Edward Hyde. 
 Yet it was by these that I was punished.
 
 134 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 My devil had been long caged, he came out 
 roaring. I was conscious, even when I took 
 the draught, of a more unbridled, a more 
 furious propensity to ill. It must have been 
 this, I suppose, that stirred in my soul that 
 tempest of impatience with which I listened 
 to the civilities of my unhappy victim ; I 
 declare at least, before God, no man morally 
 sane could have been guilty of that crime 
 upon so pitiful a provocation ; and that I 
 struck in no more reasonable spirit than that 
 in which a sick child may break a plaything. 
 But I had voluntarily stripped myself of all 
 those balancing instincts by which even the 
 worst of us continues to walk with some de- 
 gree of steadiness among temptations ; and 
 in my case, to be tempted, however slightly, 
 was to fall. 
 
 Instantly the spirit of hell awoke in me and 
 raged. With a transport of glee, I mauled 
 the unresisting body, tasting delight from 
 every blow ; and it was not till weariness 
 had begun to succeed that I was suddenly, 
 in the top fit of my delirium, struck through
 
 HENRY JEKYLVS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 135 
 
 the heart by a cold thrill of terror. A mist 
 dispersed ; I saw my life to be forfeit ; and 
 fled from the scene of these excesses, at once 
 glorying and trembling, my lust of evil grati- 
 fied and stimulated, my love of life screwed 
 to the topmost peg. I ran to the house in 
 Soho, and (to make assurance doubly sure) 
 destroyed my papers ; thence I set out 
 through the lamplit streets, in the same 
 divided ecstasy of mind, gloating on my crime, 
 light-headedly devising others in the future, 
 and yet still hastening and still hearkening in 
 my wake for the steps of the avenger. Hyde 
 had a song upon his lips as he compounded 
 the draught, and as he drank it pledged the 
 dead man. The pangs of transformation 
 had not done tearing him, before Henry 
 Jekyll, with streaming tears of gratitude and 
 remorse, had fallen upon his knees and 
 lifted his clasped hands to God. The veil 
 of self-indulgence was rent from head to 
 foot, I saw my life as a whole : I followed 
 it up from the days of childhood, when I 
 had walked with my father's hand, and
 
 136 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 through the self-denying toils of my pro- 
 fessional life, to arrive again and again, with 
 the same sense of unreality, at the damned 
 horrors of the evening. I could have 
 screamed aloud ; I sought with tears and 
 prayers to smother down the crowd of 
 hideous images and sounds with which my 
 memory swarmed against me ; and still, be- 
 tween the petitions, the ugly face of my ini- 
 quity stared into my soul. As the acuteness 
 of this remorse began to die away, it was 
 succeeded by a sense of joy. The problem 
 of my conduct was solved. Hyde was 
 thenceforth impossible ; whether I would or 
 not, I was now confined to the better part of 
 my existence ; and, oh, how I rejoiced to 
 think it ! with what willing humility I em- 
 braced anew the restrictions of natural life ! 
 with what sincere renunciation I locked the 
 door by which I had so often gone and 
 come, and ground the key under my heel ! 
 
 The next day came the news that the 
 murder had been overlooked, that the guilt 
 of Hyde was patent to the world, and that
 
 HENRY yEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 137 
 
 the victim was a man high in public estima- 
 tion. It was not only a crime, it had been a 
 tragic folly. I think I was glad to know it ; 
 I think I was glad to have my better im- 
 pulses thus buttressed and guarded by the 
 terrors of the scaffold. Jekyll was now my 
 city of refuge ; let but Hyde peep out an 
 instant, and the hands of all men would be 
 raised to take and slay him. 
 
 I resolved in my future conduct to redeem 
 the past ; and I can say with honesty that 
 my resolve was fruitful of some good. You 
 know yourself how earnestly in the last 
 months of last year I laboured to relieve 
 suffering ; you know that much was done for 
 others, and that the days passed quietly, al- 
 most happily for myself. Nor can I truly 
 say that I wearied of this beneficent and 
 innocent life ; I think instead that I daily 
 enjoyed it more completely ; but I was still 
 cursed with my duality of purpose ; and as 
 the first edge of my penitence wore off, the 
 lower side of me, so long indulged, so re- 
 cently chained down, began to growl for
 
 138 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 license. Not that I dreamed of resuscitat- 
 ing Hyde ; the bare idea of that would 
 startle me to frenzy : no, it was in my own 
 person that I was once more tempted to 
 trifle with my conscience ; and it was as an 
 ordinary secret sinner that I at last fell be- 
 fore the assaults of temptation. 
 
 There comes an end to all things ; the 
 most capacious measure is filled at last ; and 
 this brief condescension to my evil finally 
 destroyed the balance of my soul. And yet 
 I was not alarmed ; the fall seemed natural, 
 like a return to the old days before I had 
 made my discovery. It was a fine, clear 
 January day, wet under foot where the 
 frost had melted, but cloudless overhead ; 
 and the Regent's Park was full of winter 
 chirrupings and sweet with spring odours. 
 I sat in the sun on a bench ; the animal 
 within me licking the chops of memory ; the 
 spiritual side a little drowsed, promising 
 subsequent penitence, but not yet moved to 
 begin. After all, I reflected I was like my 
 neighbours ; and then I smiled, comparing
 
 HENRY JEKYLUS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 139 
 
 myself with other men, comparing my active 
 goodwill with the lazy cruelty of their 
 neglect. And at the very moment of that 
 vainglorious thought, a qualm came over 
 me, a horrid nausea and the most deadly 
 shuddering. These passed away, and left 
 me faint ; and then as in its turn the faint- 
 ness subsided, I began to be aware of a 
 change in the temper of my thoughts, a 
 greater boldness, a contempt of danger, a 
 solution of the bonds of obligation. I 
 looked down ; my clothes hung formlessly 
 on my shrunken limbs ; the hand that lay 
 on my knee was corded and hairy. I was 
 once more Edward Hyde. A moment be- 
 fore I had been safe of all men's respect, 
 wealthy, beloved the cloth laying for me 
 in the dining-room at home ; and now I 
 was the common quarry of mankind, hunted, 
 houseless, a known murderer, thrall to the 
 gallows. 
 
 My reason wavered, but it did not fail me 
 utterly. I have more than once observed 
 that, in my second character, my faculties
 
 140 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 seemed sharpened to a point and my spirits 
 more tensely elastic ; thus it came about 
 that, where Jekyll perhaps might have suc- 
 cumbed, Hyde rose to the importance of 
 the moment. My drugs were in one of the 
 presses of my cabinet : how was I to reach 
 them? That was the problem that (crush- 
 ing my temples in my hands) I set myself to 
 solve. The laboratory door I had closed. 
 If I sought to enter by the house, my own 
 servants would consign me to the gallows. 
 I saw I must employ another hand, and 
 thought of Lanyon. How was he to be 
 reached? how persuaded? Supposing that 
 I escaped capture in the streets, how was I 
 to make my way into his presence ? and 
 how should I, an unknown and displeasing 
 visitor, prevail on the famous physician to 
 rifle the study of his colleague, Dr. Jekyll ? 
 Then I remembered that of my original char- 
 acter, one part remained to me : I could write 
 my own hand ; and once I had conceived 
 that kindling spark, the way that I must 
 follow became lighted up from end to end.
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 141 
 
 Thereupon, I arranged my clothes as best 
 I could, and summoning a passing hansom, 
 drove to an hotel in Portland Street, the 
 name of which I chanced to remember. At 
 my appearance (which was indeed comical 
 enough, however tragic a fate these garments 
 covered) the driver could not conceal his 
 mirth. I gnashed my teeth upon him with 
 a gust of devilish fury ; and the smile 
 withered from his face happily for him 
 yet more happily for myself, for in another 
 instant I had certainly dragged him from 
 his perch. At the inn, as I entered, I 
 looked about me with so JMack a countenance 
 as made the attendants tremble ; not a look 
 did they exchange in my presence ; but 
 obsequiously took my orders, led me to a 
 private room, and brought me wherewithal 
 to write. Hyde in danger of his life was 
 a creature new to me : shaken with in- 
 ordinate anger, strung to the pitch of 
 murder, lusting to inflict pain. Yet the 
 creature was astute ; mastered his fury with 
 a great effort of the will ; composed his two
 
 142 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. ' 
 
 important letters, one to Lanyon and one 
 to Poole ; and, that he might receive actual 
 evidence of their being posted, sent them 
 out with directions that they should be 
 registered. 
 
 Thenceforward, he sat all day over the 
 fire in the private room, gnawing his nails ; 
 there he dined, sitting alone with his fears, 
 the waiter visibly quailing before his eye ; 
 and thence, when the night was fully come, 
 he set forth in the corner of a closed cab, 
 and was driven to and fro about the streets 
 of the city. He, I say I cannot say, I. 
 That child of Hell had nothing human ; 
 nothing lived in him but fear and hatred. 
 And when at last, thinking the driver had 
 begun to grow suspicious, he discharged 
 the cab and ventured on foot, attired in his 
 misfitting clothes, an object marked out for 
 observation, into the midst of the nocturnal 
 passengers, these two base passions raged 
 within him like a tempest. He walked 
 fast, hunted by his fears, chattering to 
 himself, skulking through the less frequented
 
 HENRY JEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 143 
 
 thoroughfares, counting the minutes that still 
 divided him from midnight. Once a woman 
 spoke to him, offering, I think, a box of 
 lights. He smote her in the face, and she 
 fled. 
 
 When I came to myself at Lanyon's, 
 the horror of my old friend perhaps affected 
 me somewhat : I do not know ; it was at 
 least but a drop in the sea to the abhor- 
 rence with which I looked back upon these 
 hours. A change had come over me. It 
 was no longer the fear of the gallows, it 
 was the horror of being Hyde that racked 
 me. I received Lanyon's condemnation 
 partly in a dream ; it was partly in a dream 
 that I came home to my own house and 
 got into bed. I slept after the prostration 
 of the day, with a stringent and profound 
 slumber which not even the nightmares 
 that wrung me could avail to break. I 
 awoke in the morning shaken, weakened, 
 but refreshed. I still hated and feared the 
 thought of the brute that slept within me, 
 and I had not of course forgotten the appal-
 
 144 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 ling dangers of the day before ; but I was 
 once more at home, in my own house and 
 close to my drugs ; and gratitude for my 
 escape shone so strong in my soul that it 
 almost rivalled the brightness of hope. 
 
 I was stepping leisurely across the court 
 after breakfast, drinking the chill of the air 
 with pleasure, when I was seized again with 
 those indescribable sensations that heralded 
 the change ; and I had but the time to gain 
 the shelter of my cabinet, before I was once 
 again raging and freezing with the passions 
 of Hyde. It took on this occasion a double 
 dose to recall me to myself ; and, alas ! six 
 hours after, as I sat looking sadly in the 
 fire, the pangs returned, and the drug had 
 to be re-administered. In short, from that 
 day forth it seemed only by a great effort 
 as of gymnastics, and only under the im- 
 mediate stimulation of the drug, that I was 
 able to wear the countenance of Jekyll. 
 At all hours of the day and night I would 
 be taken with the premonitory shudder ; 
 above all, if I slept, or even dozed for a
 
 HENRY JEKYLUS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 145 
 
 moment in my chair, it was ^ always as 
 Hyde that I awakened. Under the strain 
 of this continually impending doom and by 
 the sleeplessness to which I now condemned 
 myself, ay, even beyond what I had thought 
 possible to man, I became, in my own person, 
 a creature eaten up and emptied by fever, 
 languidly weak both in body and mind, and 
 solely occupied by one thought : the horror 
 of my other self. But when I slept, or 
 when the virtue of the medicine wore off, 
 I would leap almost without transition (for 
 the pangs of transformation grew daily less 
 marked) into the possession of a fancy 
 brimming with images of terror, a soul 
 boiling with causeless hatreds, and a body 
 that seemed not strong enough to contain 
 the raging energies of life. The powers of 
 Hyde seemed to have grown with the sick- 
 liness of Jekyll. And certainly the hate 
 that now divided them was equal on each 
 side. With Jekyll, it was a thing of vital 
 instinct. He had now seen the full deformity 
 
 of that creature that shared with him some 
 
 10
 
 146 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 of the phenomena of consciousness, and was 
 co-heir with him to death : and beyond these 
 links of community, which in themselves 
 made the most poignant part of his distress, 
 he thought of Hyde, for all his energy of 
 life, as of something not only hellish but 
 inorganic. This was the shocking thing ; 
 that the slime of the pit seemed to utter 
 cries and voices ; that the amorphous dust 
 gesticulated and sinned ; that what was 
 dead, and had no shape, should usurp the 
 offices of life. And this again, that that 
 insurgent horror was knit to him closer 
 than a wife, closer than an eye ; lay caged 
 in his flesh, where he heard it mutter and 
 felt it struggle to be born ; and at every 
 hour of weakness, and in the confidence 
 of slumber, prevailed against him, and de- 
 posed him out of life. The hatred of 
 Hyde for Jekyll was of a different order. 
 His terror of the gallows drove him con- 
 tinually to commit temporary suicide, and 
 return to his subordinate station of a part 
 instead of a person ; but he loathed the
 
 HENRY JEKYLUS STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 147 
 
 necessity, he loathed the despondency into 
 which Jekyll was now fallen, and he re- 
 sented the dislike with which he was 
 himself regarded. Hence the apelike tricks 
 that he would play me, scrawling in my 
 own hand blasphemies on the pages of my 
 books, burning the letters and destroying 
 the portrait of my father ; and indeed, 
 had it not been for his fear of death, he 
 would long ago have ruined himself in 
 order to involve me in the ruin. But his 
 love of life is wonderful ; I go further : I, 
 who sicken and freeze at the mere thought 
 of him, when I recall the abjection and 
 passion of this attachment, and when I 
 know how he fears my power to cut him 
 off by suicide, I find it in my heart to 
 pity him. 
 
 It is useless, and the time awfully fails 
 me, to prolong this description ; no one has 
 ever suffered such torments, let that suffice ; 
 and yet even to these, habit brought no, 
 not alleviation but a certain callousness of 
 soul, a certain acquiescence of despair ; and
 
 148 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 my punishment might have gone on for 
 years, but for the last calamity which has 
 now fallen, and which has finally severed 
 me from my own face and nature. My 
 provision of the salt, which had never been 
 renewed since the date of the first experi- 
 ment, began to run low. I sent out for a 
 fresh supply, and mixed the draught ; the 
 ebullition followed, and the first change of 
 colour, not the second; I drank it, and it 
 was without efficiency. You will learn 
 from Poole how I have had London ran- 
 sacked ; it was in vain ; and I am now per- 
 suaded that my first supply was impure, and 
 that it was that unknown impurity which 
 lent efficacy to the draught. 
 
 About a week has passed, and I am now 
 finishing this statement under the influence of 
 the last of the old powders. This, then, is 
 the last time, short of a miracle, that Henry 
 Jekyll can think his own thoughts or see his 
 own face (now how sadly altered !) in the 
 glass. Nor must I delay too long to bring 
 my writing to an end ; for if my narrative
 
 HENRY yEKYLL'S STATEMENT OF THE CASE. 149 
 
 has hitherto escaped destruction, it has been 
 by a combination of great prudence and 
 great good luck. Should the throes of 
 change take me in the act of writing it, 
 Hyde will tear it in pieces ; but if some 
 time shall have elapsed after I have laid it 
 by, his wonderful selfishness and circum- 
 scription to the moment will probably save 
 it once again from the action of his apelike 
 spite. And indeed the doom that is closing 
 on us both has already changed and crushed 
 him. Half an hour from now, when I shall 
 again and for ever reindue that hated person- 
 ality, I know how I shall sit shuddering and 
 weeping in my chair, or continue, with the 
 most strained and fearstruck ecstasy of 
 listening, to pace up and down this room 
 (my last earthly refuge) and give ear to 
 every sound of menace. Will Hyde die 
 upon the scaffold? or will he find the 
 courage to release himself at the last 
 moment ? God knows ; I am careless ; 
 this is my true hour of death, and 'what 
 is to follow concerns another than myself.
 
 150 DR. yEKYLL AND MR. HYDE. 
 
 Here, then, as I lay down the pen, and 
 
 proceed to seal up my confession, I bring 
 
 the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to 
 an end.
 
 FABLES.* 
 
 THE fable, as a form of literary art, had at all times a 
 great attraction for Mr. Stevenson ; and in an early review 
 of Lord Lytton's Fables in Song he attempted to de- 
 fine some of its proper aims and methods. To this 
 class of work, according to his conception of the matter, 
 belonged essentially several of his own semi-super- 
 natural stories, such as " Will of the Mill," " Mark- 
 heim," and even "Jekyll and Hyde" ; in the composi- 
 tion of which there was combined with the dream 
 element, in at least an equal measure, the element of 
 moral allegory or apologue. He was accustomed also 
 to try his hand occasionally on the composition of 
 fables more strictly so called, and cast in the con- 
 ventional brief and familiar form. By the winter of 
 1887-88 he had enough of these by him, together with 
 a few others running to greater length, and conceived 
 in a more mystic and legendary vein, to enable him, 
 ,as he thought, to see his way towards making a book 
 of them. Such a book he promised to Messrs. Long- 
 man on the occasion of a visit paid him in New York 
 * Copyright 1896, by Longmans, Green, and Co.
 
 152 FABLES. 
 
 by a member of the firm in the spring of 1888. Then 
 came his voyage in the Pacific and residence at Samoa. 
 Among the multitude of new interests and images 
 which filled his mind during the last six years of his 
 life, he seems to have given little thought to the pro- 
 posed book of fables. One or two, however, as will 
 be seen, were added to the collection during this period. 
 That collection, as it stood at the time of his death, 
 was certainly not what its author had meant it to be. 
 It may even be doubted whether it would have seen 
 the light had he lived : but since his death it has 
 seemed to his representatives of sufficient interest 
 to be handed to Messrs. Longman, in part fulfilment 
 of his old pledge to them, for publication first in 
 their Magazine, and afterwards in its present place 
 as an appendix to a new edition of "The Strange Case 
 
 of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde". 
 
 S. C.
 
 '53 
 
 I. 
 
 THE PERSONS OF THE TALE. 
 
 AFTER the 3 2nd chapter of Treasure Island, 
 two of the puppets strolled out to have a 
 pipe before business should begin again, 
 and met in an open place not far from the 
 story. 
 
 "Good-morning, Cap'n," said the first, 
 with a man-o'-war salute, and a beaming 
 countenance. 
 
 " Ah, Silver !" grunted the other. " You're 
 in a bad way, Silver." 
 
 " Now, Cap'n Smollett," remonstrated 
 Silver, "dooty is dooty, as I knows, and 
 none better ; but we're off dooty now ; and 
 I can't see no call to keep up the morality 
 business." 
 
 "You're a damned rogue, my man," said 
 the Captain,
 
 154 FABLES. 
 
 "Come, come, Cap'n, be just," returned 
 the other. " There's no call to be angry 
 with me in earnest. I'm on'y a chara'ter 
 in a sea story. I don't really exist." 
 
 " Well, I don't really exist either," says 
 the Captain, " which seems to meet that." 
 
 " I wouldn't set no limits to what a vir- 
 tuous chara'ter might consider argument," 
 responded Silver. " But I'm the villain of 
 this tale, I am ; and speaking as one sea- 
 faring man to another, what I want to 
 know is, what's the odds ? " 
 
 " Were you never taught your cate- 
 chism?" said the Captain. "Don't you 
 know there's such a thing as an Author ? " 
 
 "Such a thing as a Author?" returned 
 John, derisively. " And who better'n me ? 
 And the p'int is, if the Author made you, he 
 made Long John, and he made Hands, and 
 Pew, and George Merry not that George is 
 up to much, for he's little more'n a name ; 
 and he made Flint, what there is of him ; 
 and he made this here mutiny, you keep 
 such a work about ; and he had Tom Red-
 
 THE PERSONS OF THE TALE. 155 
 
 ruth shot ; and well, if that's a Author, 
 give me Pew ! " 
 
 "Don't you believe in a future state?" 
 said Smollett. " Do you think there's 
 nothing but the present story-paper ? " 
 
 " I don't rightly know for that," said 
 Silver ; " and I don't see what it's got to do 
 with it, anyway. What I know is this : if 
 there is sich a thing as a Author, I'm his 
 favourite chara'ter. He does me fathoms 
 better'n he does you fathoms, he does. 
 And he likes doing me. He keeps me on 
 deck mostly all the time, crutch and all ; and 
 he leaves you measling in the hold, where 
 nobody can't see you, nor wants to, and you 
 may lay to that ! If there is a Author, by 
 thunder, but he's on my side, and you may 
 lay to it!" 
 
 " I see he's giving you a long rope," 
 said the Captain. " But that can't change 
 a man's convictions. I know the Author 
 respects me ; I feel it in my bones ; when 
 you and I had that talk at the blockhouse 
 door, who do you think he was for, my man?"
 
 156 FABLES. 
 
 "And don't he respect me?" cried Silver. 
 " Ah, you should 'a' heard me putting down 
 my mutiny, George Merry and Morgan and 
 that lot, no longer ago'n last chapter ; you'd 
 'a' heard something then ! You'd 'a' seen 
 what the Author thinks o' me ! But come 
 now, do you consider yourself a virtuous 
 chara'ter clean through ? " 
 
 " God forbid ! " said Captain Smollett, 
 solemnly. " I am a man that tries to do his 
 duty, and makes a mess of it as often as 
 not. I'm not a very popular man at home, 
 Silver, I'm afraid!" and the Captain sighed. 
 
 "Ah," says Silver. "Then how about 
 this sequel of yours ? Are you to be Cap'n 
 Smollett just the same as ever, and not very 
 popular at home, says you ? And if so, why, 
 it's Treasure Island over again, by thunder ; 
 and I'll be Long John, and Pew'll be Pew, 
 and we'll have another mutiny, as like as 
 not. Or are you to be somebody else? 
 And if so, why, what the better are you ? 
 and what the worse am I ? " 
 
 " Why, look here, my man," returned the
 
 THE PERSONS OF THE TALE. 157 
 
 Captain, " I can't understand how this story 
 comes about at all, can I ? I can't see how 
 you and I, who don't exist, should get to 
 speaking here, and smoke our pipes for all 
 the world like reality ? Very well, then, who 
 am I to pipe up with my opinions ? I know 
 the Author's on the side of good ; he tells 
 me so, it runs out of his pen as he writes. 
 Well, that's all I need to know ; I'll take 
 my chance upon the rest." 
 
 " It's a fact he seemed to be against George 
 Merry," Silver admitted, musingly. " But 
 George is little more'n a name at the best 
 of it," he added, brightening. "And to get 
 into soundings for once. What is this good ? 
 I made a mutiny, and I been a gentleman 
 o' fortune ; well, but by all stories, you ain't 
 no such saint. I'm a man that keeps 
 company very easy ; even by your own 
 account, you ain't, and to my certain know- 
 ledge you're a devil to haze. Which is 
 which ? Which is good, and which bad ? 
 Ah, you tell me that ! Here we are in 
 stays, and you may lay to it!"
 
 158 FABLES. 
 
 "We're none of us perfect," replied the 
 Captain. " That's a fact of religion, my 
 man. All I can say is, I try to do my 
 duty ; and if you try to do yours, I can't 
 compliment you on your success." 
 
 "And so you was the judge, was you?" 
 said Silver, derisively. 
 
 " I would be both judge and hangman 
 for you, my man, and never turn a hair," 
 returned the Captain. " But I get beyond 
 that : it mayn't be sound theology, but it's 
 common sense, that what is good is useful 
 too or there and thereabout, for I don't 
 set up to be a thinker. Now, where would 
 a story go to if there were no virtuous 
 characters ? " 
 
 " If you go to that," replied Silver, "where 
 would a story begin, if there wasn't no 
 villains ? " 
 
 " Well, that's pretty much my thought," 
 said Captain Smollett. " The Author has to 
 get a story ; that's what he wants ; and to 
 get a story, and to have a man like the 
 doctor (say) given a proper chance, he has
 
 THE PERSONS OF THE TALE. 159 
 
 to put in men like you and Hands. But 
 he's on the right side ; and you mind your 
 eye ! You're not through this story yet ; 
 there's trouble coming for you." 
 
 " What'll you bet ? " asked John. 
 
 " Much I care if there ain't," returned 
 the Captain. "I'm glad enough to be 
 Alexander Smollett, bad as he is ; and I 
 thank my stars upon my knees that I'm not 
 Silver. But there's the ink-bottle opening. 
 To quarters!" 
 
 And indeed the Author was just then be- 
 ginning to write the words : 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII.
 
 i6o 
 
 II. 
 
 THE SINKING SHIP. 
 
 " SIR," said the first lieutenant, bursting into 
 the Captain's cabin, "the ship is going 
 down." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Spoker," said the 
 Captain ; " but that is no reason for going 
 about half-shaved. Exercise your mind a 
 moment, Mr. Spoker, and you will see that 
 to the philosophic eye there is nothing new 
 in our position : the ship (if she is to go 
 down at all) may be said to have been 
 going down since she was launched." 
 
 " She is settling fast," said the first lieu- 
 tenant, as he returned from shaving. 
 
 "Fast, Mr. Spoker?" asked the Captain. 
 " The expression is a strange one, for time 
 (if you will think of it) is only relative." 
 
 "Sir," said the lieutenant, "I think it is
 
 THE SINKING SHIP. l6l 
 
 scarcely worth while to embark in such a 
 discussion when we shall all be in Davy 
 Jones's Locker in ten minutes." 
 
 " By parity of reasoning," returned the 
 Captain gently, " it would never be worth 
 while to begin any inquiry of importance ; 
 the odds are always overwhelming that we 
 must die before we shall have brought it to 
 an end. You have not considered, Mr. 
 Spoker, the situation of man," said the 
 Captain, smiling, and shaking his head. 
 
 " I am much more engaged in considering 
 the position of the ship," said Mr. Spoker. 
 
 " Spoken like a good officer," replied the 
 Captain, laying his hand on the lieutenant's 
 shoulder. 
 
 On deck they found the men had broken in- 
 to the spirit-room, and were fast getting drunk. 
 
 " My men," said the Captain, " there is no 
 sense in this. The ship is going down, you 
 will tell me, in ten minutes : well, and what 
 then ? To the philosophic eye, there is 
 nothing new in our position. All our lives 
 
 long, we may have been about to break a 
 ii
 
 1 62 FABLES. 
 
 blood-vessel or to be struck by lightning, 
 not merely in ten minutes, but in ten 
 seconds ; and that has not prevented us 
 from eating dinner, no, nor from putting 
 money in the Savings Bank. I assure you, 
 with my hand on my heart, I fail to com- 
 prehend your attitude." 
 
 The men were already too far gone to 
 pay much heed. 
 
 " This is a very painful sight, Mr. 
 Spoker," said the Captain. 
 
 " And yet to the philosophic eye, or 
 whatever it is," replied the first lieutenant, 
 " they may be said to have been getting 
 drunk since they came aboard." 
 
 " I do not know if you always follow my 
 thought, Mr. Spoker," returned the Captain 
 gently. " But let us proceed." 
 
 In the powder magazine they found an 
 old salt smoking his pipe. 
 
 " Good God," cried the Captain, " what 
 are you about ? " 
 
 " Well, sir," said the old salt, apologetically, 
 " they told me as she were going down."
 
 THE SINKING SHIP. 163 
 
 " And suppose she were ? " said the 
 Captain. " To the philosophic eye, there 
 would be nothing new in our position. Life, 
 my old shipmate, life, at any moment and in 
 any view, is as dangerous as a sinking ship ; 
 and yet it is man's handsome fashion to 
 carry umbrellas, to wear indiarubber over- 
 shoes, to begin vast works, and to conduct 
 himself in every way as if he might hope 
 to be eternal. And for my own poor part I 
 should despise the man who, even on board 
 a sinking ship, should omit to take a pill 
 or to wind up his watch. That, my friend, 
 would not be the human attitude." 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Spoker. 
 " But what is precisely the difference be- 
 tween shaving in a sinking ship and smok- 
 ing in a powder magazine ? " 
 
 " Or doing anything at all in any con- 
 ceivable circumstances ? " cried the Captain. 
 "Perfectly conclusive; give me a cigar!" 
 
 Two minutes afterwards the ship blew up 
 with a glorious detonation.
 
 i6 4 
 
 III. 
 
 THE TWO MATCHES. 
 
 ONE day there was a traveller in the woods 
 in California, in the dry season, when the 
 Trades were blowing strong. He had ridden 
 a long way, and he was tired and hungry, and 
 dismounted from his horse to smoke a pipe. 
 But when he felt in his pocket he found but 
 two matches. He struck the first, and it 
 would not light. 
 
 " Here is a pretty state of things ! " said 
 the traveller. " Dying for a smoke ; only one 
 match left ; and that certain to miss fire ! 
 Was there ever a creature so unfortunate? 
 And yet," thought the traveller, "suppose I 
 light this match, and smoke my pipe, and 
 shake out the dottle here in the grass the 
 grass might catch on fire, for it is dry like 
 tinder ; and while I snatch out the flames
 
 THE TWO MATCHES. 165 
 
 in front, they might evade and run behind 
 me, and seize upon yon bush of poison oak ; 
 before I could reach it, that would have 
 blazed up ; over the bush I see a pine tree 
 hung with moss ; that too would fly in fire 
 upon the instant to its topmost bough ; and 
 the flame of that long torch how would the 
 trade wind take and brandish that through 
 the inflammable forest ! I hear this dell roar 
 in a moment with the joint voice of wind 
 and fire, I see myself gallop for my soul, and 
 the flying conflagration chase and outflank 
 me through the hills ; I see this pleasant 
 forest burn for days, and the cattle roasted, 
 and the springs dried up, and the farmer 
 ruined, and his children cast upon the world. 
 What a world hangs upon this moment ! " 
 
 With that he struck the match, and it 
 missed fire. 
 
 " Thank God ! " said the traveller, and put 
 his pipe in his pocket.
 
 i66 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE SICK MAN AND THE FIREMAN. 
 
 THERE was once a sick man in a burning 
 house, to whom there entered a fireman. 
 
 " Do not save me," said the sick man. 
 " Save those who are strong." 
 
 " Will you kindly tell me why ? " inquired 
 the fireman, for he was a civil fellow. 
 
 " Nothing could possibly be fairer," said 
 the sick man. " The strong should be pre- 
 ferred in all cases, because they are of more 
 service in the world." 
 
 The fireman pondered a while, for he was 
 a man of some philosophy. "Granted," said 
 he at last, as a part of the roof fell in ; " but 
 for the sake of conversation, what would 
 you lay down as the proper service of 
 the strong ? " 
 
 " Nothing can possibly be easier," returned
 
 THE SICK MAN AND THE FIREMAN. 167 
 
 the sick man ; " the proper service of the 
 strong is to help the weak." 
 
 Again the fireman reflected, for there was 
 nothing hasty about this excellent creature. 
 " I could forgive you being sick," he said at 
 last, as a portion of the wall fell out, " but I 
 cannot bear your being such a fool." And 
 with that he heaved up his fireman's axe, 
 for he was eminently just, and clove the 
 sick man to the bed.
 
 z68 
 
 V. 
 
 THE DEVIL AND THE INNKEEPER. 
 
 ONCE upon a time the devil stayed at an inn, 
 where no one knew him, for they were 
 people whose education had been neglected. 
 He was bent on mischief, and for a time 
 kept everybody by the ears. But at last 
 the innkeeper set a watch upon the devil 
 and took him in the fact. 
 
 The innkeeper got a rope's end. 
 
 " Now I am going to thrash you," said 
 the innkeeper. 
 
 " You have no right to be angry with 
 me," said the devil. " I am only the devil, 
 and it is my nature to do wrong." 
 
 "Is that so ? " asked the innkeeper. 
 
 " Fact, I assure you," said the devil. 
 
 " You really cannot help doing ill ? " asked 
 the innkeeper.
 
 THE DEVIL AND THE INNKEEPER. l6g 
 
 11 Not in the smallest, said the devil ; "it 
 would be useless cruelty to thrash a thing 
 like me." 
 
 "It would indeed," said the innkeeper. 
 
 And he made a noose and hanged the 
 devil. 
 
 " There 1 " said the innkeeper.
 
 170 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE PENITENT 
 
 A MAN met a lad weeping. " What do you 
 weep for ? " he asked. 
 
 " I am weeping for my sins," said the 
 lad. 
 
 " You must have little to do," said the 
 man. 
 
 The next day they met again. Once 
 more the lad was weeping. "Why do you 
 weep now ? " asked the man. 
 
 " I am weeping because I have nothing 
 to eat," said the lad. 
 
 " I thought it would come to that," said 
 the man.
 
 VII. 
 
 THE YELLOW PAINT. 
 
 IN a certain city there lived a physician who 
 sold yellow paint. This was of so singular a 
 virtue that whoso was bedaubed with it from 
 head to heel was set free from the dangers 
 of life, and the bondage of sin, and the fear 
 of death for ever. So the physician said in 
 his prospectus ; and so said all the citizens 
 in the city ; and there was nothing more 
 urgent in men's hearts than to be properly 
 painted themselves, and nothing they took 
 more delight in than to see others painted. 
 There was in the same city a young man of 
 a very good family but of a somewhat reck- 
 less life, who had reached the age of man- 
 hood, and would have nothing to say to the 
 paint : " To-morrow was soon enough," said 
 he ; and when the morrow came he would
 
 172 FABLES. 
 
 still put it off. She might have continued 
 to do until his death ; only, he had a friend 
 of about his own age and much of his own 
 manners ; and this youth, taking a walk in 
 the public street, with not one fleck of paint 
 upon his body, was suddenly run down by a 
 water-cart and cut off in the heyday of his 
 nakedness. This shook the other to the 
 soul ; so that I never beheld a man more 
 earnest to be painted ; and on the very same 
 evening, in the presence of all his family, 
 to appropriate music, and himself weeping 
 aloud, he received three complete coats and a 
 touch of varnish on the top. The physician 
 (who was himself affected even to tears) pro- 
 tested he had never done a job so thorough. 
 
 Some two months afterwards, the young 
 man was carried on a stretcher to the 
 physician's house. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " he cried, 
 as soon as the door was opened. " I was to 
 be set free from all the dangers of life ; and 
 here have I been run down by that self- 
 same water-cart, and my leg is broken."
 
 THE YELLOW PAINT. 173 
 
 "Dear me!" said the physician. "This 
 is very sad. But I perceive I must explain 
 to you the action of my paint. A broken 
 bone is a mighty small affair at the worst of 
 it ; and it belongs to a class of accident to 
 which my paint is quite inapplicable. Sin, 
 my dear young friend, sin is the sole cal- 
 amity that a wise man should apprehend ; it 
 is against sin that I have fitted you out ; 
 and when you come to be tempted, you will 
 give me news of my paint." 
 
 "Oh!" said the young man, "I did not 
 understand that, and it seems rather disap- 
 pointing. But I have no doubt all is for 
 the best ; and in the meanwhile, I shall 
 be obliged to you if you will set my leg." 
 
 "That is none of my business," said the 
 physician; "but if your bearers will carry 
 you round the corner to the surgeon's, I 
 feel sure he will afford relief." 
 
 Some three years later, the young man 
 came running to the physician's house in a 
 great perturbation. "What is the meaning 
 of this?" he cried. "Here was I to be set
 
 174 FABLES. 
 
 free from the bondage of sin ; and I have 
 just committed forgery, arson and murder." 
 
 " Dear me," said the physician. " This 
 is very serious. Off with your clothes at 
 once." And as soon as the young man had 
 stripped, he examined him from head to 
 foot. " No," he cried with great relief, 
 "there is not a flake broken. Cheer up, 
 my young friend, your paint is as good as 
 new." 
 
 " Good God ! " cried the young man, 
 "and what then can be the use of it?" 
 
 " Why," said the physician, " I perceive I 
 must explain to you the nature of the action 
 of my paint. It does not exactly prevent 
 sin ; it extenuates instead the painful conse- 
 quences. It is not so much for this world, 
 as for the next ; it is not against life ; in 
 short, it is against death that I have fitted 
 you out. And when you come to die, you 
 will give me news of my paint." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the young man, " I had not 
 understood that, and it seems a little disap- 
 pointing. But there is no doubt all is for
 
 THE YELLOW PAINT. 175 
 
 the best : and in the meanwhile, I shall be 
 obliged if you will help me to undo the evil 
 I have brought on innocent persons." 
 
 " That is none of my business," said the 
 physician ; " but if you will go round the 
 corner to the police office, I feel sure it 
 will afford you relief to give yourself up." 
 
 Six weeks later, the physician was called 
 to the town gaol. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this ? " cried the 
 young man. " Here am I literally crusted 
 with your paint ; and I have broken my leg, 
 and committed all the crimes in the calendar, 
 and must be hanged to-morrow ; and am in 
 the meanwhile in a fear so extreme that I 
 lack words to picture it." 
 
 " Dear me," said the physician. " This is 
 really amazing. Well, well ; perhaps, if you 
 had not been painted, you would have been 
 more frightened still."
 
 i 7 6 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF ELD. 
 
 So soon as the child began to speak, the 
 gyve was riveted ; and the boys and girls 
 limped about their play like convicts. 
 Doubtless it was more pitiable to see 
 and more painful to bear in youth ; but 
 even the grown folk, besides being very 
 unhandy on their feet, were often sick with 
 ulcers. 
 
 About the time when Jack was ten years 
 old, many strangers began to journey through 
 that country. These he beheld going lightly 
 by on the long roads, and the thing amazed 
 him. " I wonder how it comes," he asked, 
 "that all these strangers are so quick afoot, 
 and we must drag about our fetter ? " 
 
 u My dear boy," said his uncle, the cate- 
 chist, " do not complain about your fetter,
 
 THE HOUSE OF ELD. 177 
 
 for it is the only thing that makes life worth 
 living. None are happy, none are good, 
 none are respectable, that are not gyved 
 like us. And I must tell you, besides, it is 
 very dangerous talk. If you grumble of 
 your iron, you will have no luck ; if ever 
 you take it off, you will be instantly smitten 
 by a thunderbolt." 
 
 "Are there no thunderbolts for these 
 strangers ? " asked Jack. 
 
 "Jupiter is longsuffering to the be- 
 nighted," returned the catechist. 
 
 " Upon my word, I could wish I had been 
 less fortunate," said Jack. " For if I had 
 been born benighted, I might now be going 
 free ; and it cannot be denied the iron is 
 inconvenient, and the ulcer hurts." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried his uncle, " do not envy the 
 heathen ! Theirs is a sad lot ! Ah, poor 
 souls, if they but knew the joys of being 
 fettered ! Poor souls, my heart yearns for 
 them. But the truth is they are vile, odious, 
 insolent, ill-conditioned, stinking brutes, not 
 
 truly human for what is a man without a 
 
 12
 
 178 FABLES. 
 
 fetter? and you cannot be too particular 
 not to touch or speak with them." 
 
 After this talk, the child would never pass 
 one of the unfettered on the road but what 
 he spat at him and called him names, which 
 was the practice of the children in that part. 
 
 It chanced one day, when he was fifteen, 
 he went into the woods, and the ulcer pained 
 him. It was a fair day, with a blue sky ; all 
 the birds were singing ; but Jack nursed his 
 foot. Presently, another song began ; it 
 sounded like the singing of a person, only 
 far more gay ; at the same time there was a 
 beating on the earth. Jack put aside the 
 leaves ; and there was a lad of his own 
 village, leaping, and dancing and singing to 
 himself in a green dell ; and on the grass 
 beside him lay the dancer's iron. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Jack, " you have your fetter 
 off!" 
 
 " For God's sake, don't tell your uncle ! " 
 cried the lad. 
 
 " If you fear my uncle," returned Jack 
 " why do you not fear the thunderbolt " ?
 
 THE HOUSE OF ELD. 179 
 
 " That is only an old wives' tale," said the 
 other. "It is only told to children. Scores 
 of us come here among the woods and 
 dance for nights together, and are none 
 the worse." 
 
 This put Jack in a thousand new thoughts. 
 He was a grave lad ; he had no mind to 
 dance himself; he wore his fetter manfully, 
 and tended his ulcer without complaint. But 
 he loved the less to be deceived or to see 
 others cheated. He began to lie in wait for 
 heathen travellers, at covert parts of the 
 road, and in the dusk of the day, so that he 
 might speak with them unseen ; and these 
 were greatly taken with their wayside ques- 
 tioner, and told him things of weight. The 
 wearing of gyves (they said) was no com- 
 mand of Jupiter's. It was the contrivance of 
 a white-faced thing, a sorcerer, that dwelt in 
 that country in the Wood of Eld. He was 
 one like Glaucus that could change his shape, 
 yet he could be always told ; for when he 
 was crossed, he gobbled like a turkey. He 
 had three lives ; but the third smiting would
 
 l8o FABLES. 
 
 make an end of him indeed ; and with that 
 his house of sorcery would vanish, the gyves 
 fall, and the villagers take hands and dance 
 like children. 
 
 "And in your country?" Jack would 
 ask. 
 
 But at this the travellers, with one accord, 
 would put him off; until Jack began to 
 suppose there was no land entirely happy. 
 Or, if there were, it must be one that 
 kept its folk at home ; which was natural 
 enough. 
 
 But the case of the gyves weighed upon 
 him. The sight of the children limping 
 stuck in his eyes ; the groans of such as 
 dressed their ulcers haunted him. And it 
 came at last in his mind that he was born 
 to free them. 
 
 There was in that village a sword of 
 heavenly forgery, beaten upon Vulcan's anvil. 
 It was never used but in the temple, and 
 then the flat of it only ; and it hung on a 
 nail by the catechist's chimney. Early one 
 night, Jack rose, and took the sword, and
 
 THE HOUSE OF ELD. l8l 
 
 was gone out of the house and the village 
 in the darkness. 
 
 All night he walked at a venture ; and 
 when day came, he met strangers going to 
 the fields. Then he asked after the Wood of 
 Eld and the house of sorcery ; and one said 
 north, and one south ; until Jack saw that 
 they deceived him. So then, when he asked 
 his way of any man, he showed the bright 
 sword naked ; and at that the gyve on the 
 man's ankle rang, and answered in his stead ; 
 and the word was still Straight on. But the 
 man, when his gyve spoke, spat and struck 
 at Jack, and threw stones at him as he went 
 away ; so that his head was broken. 
 
 So he came to that wood, and entered in, 
 and he was aware of a house in a low place, 
 where funguses grew, and the trees met, and 
 the steaming of the marsh arose about it 
 like a smoke. It was a fine house, and a 
 very rambling ; some parts of it were ancient 
 like the hills, and some but of yesterday, 
 and none finished ; and all the ends of it 
 were open, so that you could go in from
 
 1 82 FABLES. 
 
 every side. Yet it was in good repair, and 
 all the chimneys smoked. 
 
 Jack went in through the gable ; and there 
 was one room after another, all bare, but 
 all furnished in part, so that a man could 
 dwell there ; and in each there was a fire 
 burning, where a man could warm himself, 
 and a table spread where he might eat. But 
 Jack saw nowhere any living creature ; only 
 the bodies of some stuffed. 
 
 " This is a hospitable house," said Jack ; 
 "but the ground must be quaggy under- 
 neath, for at every step the building 
 quakes." 
 
 He had gone some time in the house, 
 when he began to be hungry. Then he 
 looked at the food, and at first he was afraid ; 
 but he bared the sword, and by the shining 
 of the sword, it seemed the food was honest. 
 So he took the courage to sit down and eat, 
 and he was refreshed in mind and body. 
 
 " This is strange," thought he, " that in 
 the house of sorcery there should be food 
 so wholesome."
 
 THE HOUSE OF ELD. 183 
 
 As he was yet eating, there came into that 
 room the appearance of his uncle, and Jack 
 was afraid because he had taken the sword. 
 But his uncle was never more kind, and sat 
 down to meat with him, and praised him 
 because he had taken the sword. Never 
 had these two been more pleasantly together, 
 and Jack was full of love to the man. 
 
 " It was very well done," said his uncle, 
 "to take the sword and come yourself into 
 the House of Eld ; a good thought and a 
 brave deed. But now you are satisfied ; 
 and we may go home to dinner arm in 
 arm." 
 
 "Oh, dear, no!" said Jack. "I am not 
 satisfied yet." 
 
 " How ! " cried his uncle. " Are you not 
 warmed by the fire? Does not this food 
 sustain you ? " 
 
 " I see the food to be wholesome," said 
 Jack; "and still it is no proof that a man 
 should wear a gyve on his right leg." 
 
 Now at this the appearance of his uncle 
 gobbled like a turkey.
 
 184 FABLES. 
 
 "Jupiter!" cried Jack, "is this the 
 sorcerer ? " 
 
 His hand held back and his heart failed 
 him for the love he bore his uncle ; but he 
 heaved up the sword and smote the appear- 
 ance on the head ; and it cried out aloud 
 with the voice of his uncle ; and fell to 
 the ground ; and a little bloodless white 
 thing fled from the room. 
 
 The cry rang in Jack's ears, and his knees 
 smote together, and conscience cried upon 
 him ; and yet he was strengthened, and there 
 woke in his bones the lust of that enchanter's 
 blood. " If the gyves are to fall," said he, 
 " I must go through with this, and when I 
 get home I shall find my uncle dancing." 
 
 So he went on after the bloodless thing. 
 In the way, he met the appearance of his 
 father ; and his father was incensed, and 
 railed upon him, and called to him upon his 
 duty, and bade him be home, while there 
 was yet time. " For you can still," said he, 
 "be home by sunset: and then all will be 
 forgiven."
 
 THE HOUSE OF ELD. 185 
 
 " God knows," said Jack, " I fear your 
 anger ; but yet your anger does not prove 
 that a man should wear a gyve on his right 
 leg." 
 
 And at that the appearance of his father 
 gobbled like a turkey. 
 
 "Ah, heaven," cried Jack, "the sorcerer 
 again ! " 
 
 The blood ran backward in his body and 
 his joints rebelled against him for the love he 
 bore his father ; but he heaved up the sword, 
 and plunged it in the heart of the appear- 
 ance ; and the appearance cried out aloud 
 with the voice of his father ; and fell to the 
 ground ; and a little bloodless white thing 
 fled from the room. 
 
 The cry rang in Jack's ears, and his soul 
 was darkened ; but now rage came to him. 
 " I have done what I dare not think upon," 
 said he. "I will go to an end with it, 
 or perish. And when I get home, I pray 
 God this may be a dream, and I may find 
 my father dancing." 
 
 So he went on after the bloodless thing
 
 1 86 FABLES. 
 
 that had escaped ; and in the way he met 
 the appearance of his mother, and she wept. 
 " What have you done ? " she cried. " What 
 is this that you have done ? Oh, come home 
 (where you may be by bedtime) ere you do 
 more ill to me and mine ; for it is enough 
 to smite my brother and your father." 
 
 " Dear mother, it is not these that I have 
 smitten," said Jack; "it was but the en- 
 chanter in their shape. And even if I had, 
 it would not prove that a man should wear 
 a gyve on his right leg." 
 
 And at this the appearance gobbled like 
 a turkey. 
 
 He never knew how he did that ; but he 
 swung the sword on the one side, and clove 
 the appearance through the midst ; and it 
 cried out aloud with the voice of his mother ; 
 and fell to the ground ; and with the fall of 
 it, the house was gone from over Jack's 
 head, and he stood alone in the woods, and 
 the gyve was loosened from his leg. 
 
 "Well," said he, "the enchanter is now 
 dead, and the fetter gone." But the cries
 
 THE HOUSE OF ELD. 187 
 
 rang in his soul, and the day was like night 
 to him. " This has been a sore business," 
 said he. " Let me get forth out of the 
 wood, and see the good that I have done 
 to others." 
 
 He thought to leave the fetter where it 
 lay, but when he turned to go, his mind was 
 otherwise. So he stooped and put the gyve 
 in his bosom ; and the rough iron galled 
 him as he went, and his bosom bled. 
 
 Now when he was forth of the wood upon 
 the highway, he met folk returning from the 
 field ; and those he met had no fetter on the 
 right leg, but, behold ! they had one upon 
 the left. Jack asked them what it signified ; 
 and they said, " that was the new wear, for 
 the old was found to be a superstition". 
 Then he looked at them nearly ; and there 
 was a new ulcer on the left ankle, and the 
 old one on the right was not yet healed. 
 
 " Now, may God forgive me ! " cried Jack. 
 " I would I were well home." 
 
 And when he was home, there lay his 
 uncle smitten on the head, and his father
 
 1 88 FABLES. 
 
 pierced through the heart, and his mother 
 cloven through the midst. And he sat in 
 the lone house and wept beside the bodies. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 Old is the tree and the fruit good, 
 Very old and thick the wood. 
 Woodman, is your courage stout ? 
 Beware ! the root is wrapped about 
 Your mother's heart, your father's bones : 
 And like the mandrake comes with groans.
 
 189 
 
 IX 
 
 THE FOUR REFORMERS. 
 
 FOUR reformers met under a bramble bush. 
 They were all agreed the world must be 
 changed. " We must abolish property," said 
 one. 
 
 " We must abolish marriage," said the 
 second. 
 
 " We must abolish God," said the third. 
 
 " I wish we could abolish work," said 
 the fourth. 
 
 " Do not let us get beyond practical 
 politics," said the first. " The first thing is 
 to reduce men to a common level." 
 
 " The first thing," said the second, "is to 
 give freedom to the sexes." 
 
 "The first thing," said the third, "is to 
 find out how to do it."
 
 igo FABLES. 
 
 " The first step," said the first, "is to 
 abolish the Bible." 
 
 "The first thing," said the second, "is to 
 abolish the laws." 
 
 "The first thing," said the third, "is to 
 abolish mankind."
 
 X. 
 
 THE MAN AND HIS FRIEND. 
 
 A MAN quarrelled with his friend. 
 
 " I have been much deceived in you," 
 said the man. 
 
 And the friend made a face at him and 
 went away. 
 
 A little after, they both died, and came 
 together before the great white Justice of 
 the Peace. It began to look black for the 
 friend, but the man for a while had a clear 
 character and was getting in good spirits. 
 
 "I find here some record of a quarrel," 
 said the justice, looking in his notes. 
 "Which of you was in the wrong?" 
 
 "He was," said the man. "He spoke ill 
 of me behind my back." 
 
 " Did he so? " said the justice. " And pray 
 how did he speak about your neighbours ? "
 
 192 FABLES. 
 
 " Oh, he had always a nasty tongue," said 
 the man. 
 
 " And you chose him for your friend ? " 
 cried the justice. " My good fellow, we 
 have no use here for fools." 
 
 So the man was cast in the pit, and the 
 friend laughed out aloud in the dark and 
 remained to be tried on other charges.
 
 193 
 
 XI. 
 THE READER. 
 
 " I NEVER read such an impious book," said 
 the reader, throwing it on the floor. 
 
 " You need not hurt me," said the book ; 
 " you will only get less for me second 
 hand, and I did not write myself." 
 
 " That is true," said the reader. " My 
 quarrel is with your author." 
 
 "Ah, well," said the book, "you need 
 not buy his rant." 
 
 "That is true," said the reader. "But 
 I thought him such a cheerful writer." 
 
 " I find him so," said the book. 
 
 " You must be differently made from 
 me," said the reader. 
 
 " Let me tell you a fable," said the 
 book. " There were two men wrecked 
 
 upon a desert island ; one of them made 
 
 13
 
 *94 FABLES. 
 
 believe he was at home, the other ad- 
 mitted " 
 
 " Oh, I know your kind of fable," said 
 the reader. " They both died." 
 
 "And so they did," said the book. " No 
 doubt of that. And everybody else." 
 
 "That is true," said the reader. "Push 
 it a little further for this once. And when 
 they were all dead?" 
 
 " They were in God's hands, the same 
 as before," said the book. 
 
 "Not much to boast of, by your account," 
 cried the reader. 
 
 "Who is impious now?" said the book. 
 
 And the reader put him on the fire. 
 
 The coward crouches from the rod, 
 And loathes the iron face of God.
 
 XII. 
 THE CITIZEN AND THE TRAVELLER. 
 
 " LOOK round you," said the citizen. " This 
 is the largest market in the world." 
 
 " Oh, surely not," said the traveller. 
 
 " Well, perhaps not the largest," said 
 the citizen, "but much the best." 
 
 " You are certainly wrong there," said 
 the traveller. " I can tell you . . ." 
 
 They buried the stranger at the dusk.
 
 196 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE DISTINGUISHED STRANGER. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there came to this earth 
 a visitor from a neighbouring planet. And 
 he was met at the place of his descent by 
 a great philosopher, who was to show him 
 everything. 
 
 First of all they came through a wood, 
 and the stranger looked upon the trees. 
 " Whom have we here ? " said he. 
 
 " These are only vegetables," said the 
 philosopher. " They are alive, but not at 
 all interesting." 
 
 " I don't know about that," said the 
 stranger. " They seem to have very 
 good manners. Do they never speak ? " 
 
 " They lack the gift," said the philosopher. 
 
 " Yet I think I hear them sing," said 
 the other.
 
 THE DISTINGUISHED STRANGER. 197 
 
 " That is only the wind among the 
 leaves," said the philosopher. " I will ex- 
 plain to you the theory of winds : it is 
 very interesting." 
 
 " Well," said the stranger, " I wish I 
 knew what they are thinking." 
 
 " They cannot think," said the philo- 
 sopher. 
 
 " I don't know about that," returned the 
 stranger : and then, laying his hand upon 
 a trunk : " I like these people," said he. 
 
 " They are not people at all," said the 
 philosopher. " Come along." 
 
 Next they came through a meadow 
 where there were cows. 
 
 " These are very dirty people," said the 
 stranger. 
 
 " They are not people at all," said the 
 philosopher ; and he explained what a cow 
 is in scientific words which I have for- 
 gotten. 
 
 " That is all one to me," said the 
 stranger. "But why do they never look 
 up?"
 
 198 FABLES. 
 
 " Because they are graminivorous," said 
 the philosopher ; " and to live upon grass, 
 which is not highly nutritious, requires so 
 close an attention to business that they 
 have no time to think, or speak, or look 
 at the scenery, or keep themselves clean." 
 
 "Well," said the stranger, "that is one 
 way to live, no doubt. But I prefer the 
 people with the green heads." 
 
 Next they came into a city, and the 
 streets were full of men and women. 
 
 " These are very odd people," said the 
 stranger. 
 
 ' ' They are the people of the greatest 
 nation in the world," said the philosopher. 
 
 " Are they indeed ? " said the stranger. 
 " They scarcely look so."
 
 199 
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE CART-HORSES AND THE SADDLE- 
 HORSE. 
 
 Two cart-horses, a gelding and a mare, were 
 brought to Samoa, and put in the same field 
 with a saddle-horse to run free on the island. 
 They were rather afraid to go near him, for 
 they saw he was a saddle-horse, and supposed 
 he would not speak to them. Now the 
 saddle-horse had never seen creatures so big. 
 " These must be great chiefs," thought he, 
 and he approached them civilly. " Lady 
 and gentleman," said he, "I understand you 
 are from the colonies. I offer you my 
 affectionate compliments, and make you 
 heartily welcome to the islands." 
 
 The colonials looked at him askance, and 
 consulted with each other. 
 
 " Who can he be ? " said the gelding.
 
 200 FABLES. 
 
 " He seems suspiciously civil," said the 
 mare. 
 
 " I do not think he can be much account," 
 said the gelding. 
 
 " Depend upon it he is only a Kanaka," 
 said the mare. 
 
 Then they turned to him. 
 
 " Go to the devil ! " said the gelding. 
 
 " I wonder at your impudence, speaking 
 to persons of our quality ! " cried the mare. 
 
 The saddle-horse went away by himself. 
 "I was right," said he, "they are great 
 chiefs."
 
 201 
 
 XV 
 
 THE TADPOLE AND THE FROG. 
 
 "BE ashamed of yourself," said the frog. 
 " When I was a tadpole, I had no tail." 
 
 " Just what I thought ! " said the tadpole. 
 " You never were a tadpole."
 
 202 
 
 XVI. 
 
 SOMETHING IN IT. 
 
 THE natives told him many tales. In par- 
 ticular, they warned him of the house of 
 yellow reeds tied with black sinnet, how 
 any one who touched it became instantly the 
 prey of Akaanga, and was handed on to him 
 by Miru the ruddy, and hocussed with the 
 kava of the dead, and baked in the ovens 
 and eaten by the eaters of the dead. 
 
 " There is nothing in it," said the mis- 
 sionary. 
 
 There was a bay upon that island, a very 
 fair bay to look upon ; but, by the native 
 saying, it was death to bathe there. " There 
 is nothing in that," said the missionary ; and 
 he came to the bay, and went swimming. 
 Presently an eddy took him and bore him 
 towards the reef. "Oho!" thought the
 
 SOMETHING IN IT. 203 
 
 missionary, " it seems there is something in 
 it after all." And he swam the harder, but 
 the eddy carried him away. " I do not care 
 about this eddy," said the missionary ; and 
 even as he said it, he was aware of a house 
 raised on piles above the sea ; it was built 
 of yellow reeds, one reed joined with another, 
 and the whole bound with black sinnet ; a 
 ladder led to the door, and all about the 
 house hung calabashes. He had never seen 
 such a house, nor yet such calabashes ; and 
 the eddy set for the ladder. " This is singu- 
 lar," said the missionary, "but there can be 
 nothing in it." And he laid hold of the 
 ladder and went up. It was a fine house ; 
 but there was no man there ; and when the 
 missionary looked back he saw no island, 
 only the heaving of the sea. "It is strange 
 about the island," said the missionary, " but 
 who's afraid ? my stories are the true ones." 
 And he laid hold of a calabash, for he was 
 one that loved curiosities. Now he had no 
 sooner laid hand upon the calabash than 
 that which he handled, and that which he
 
 204 FABLES. 
 
 saw and stood on, burst like a bubble and 
 was gone ; and night closed upon him, and 
 the waters, and the meshes of the net ; and 
 he wallowed there like a fish. 
 
 " A body would think there was some- 
 thing in this," said the missionary. " But if 
 these tales are true, I wonder what about 
 my tales!' 
 
 Now the flaming of Akaanga's torch drew 
 near in the night ; and the misshapen hands 
 groped in the meshes of the net ; and they 
 took the missionary between the finger and 
 the thumb, and bore him dripping in the 
 night and silence to the place of the ovens of 
 Miru. And there was Miru, ruddy in the 
 glow of the ovens ; and there sat her four 
 daughters, and made the kava of the dead ; 
 and there sat the comers out of the islands 
 of the living, dripping and lamenting. 
 
 This was a dread place to reach for any 
 of the sons of men. But of all who ever 
 came there, the missionary was the most 
 concerned ; and, to make things worse, the 
 person next him was a convert of his own.
 
 SOMETHING IN IT. 205 
 
 " Aha," said the convert, "so you are here 
 like your neighbours? And how about all 
 your stories ? " 
 
 " It seems," said the missionary, with 
 bursting tears, "that there was nothing in 
 them." 
 
 By this the kava of the dead was ready, 
 and the daughters of Miru began to intone in 
 the old manner of singing. " Gone are the 
 green islands and the bright sea, the sun and 
 the moon and the forty million stars, and life 
 and love and hope. Henceforth is no more, 
 only to sit in the night and silence, and see 
 your friends devoured ; for life is a deceit, 
 and the bandage is taken from your eyes." 
 
 Now when the singing was done, one of 
 the daughters came with the bowl. Desire 
 of that kava rose in the "missionary's bosom ; 
 he lusted for it like a swimmer for the land, 
 or a bridegroom for his bride ; and he 
 reached out his hand, and took the bowl, 
 and would have drunk. And then he re- 
 membered, and put it back. 
 
 " Drink ! " sang the daughter of Miru.
 
 206 FABLES. 
 
 "There is no kava like the kava of the 
 dead, and to drink of it once is the reward 
 of living." 
 
 " I thank you. It smells excellent," said 
 the missionary. " But I am a blue-ribbon 
 man myself; and though I am aware there 
 is a difference of opinion even in our own 
 confession, I have always held kava to be 
 excluded." 
 
 " What ! " cried the convert. " Are you 
 going to respect a taboo at a time like this ? 
 And you were always so opposed to taboos 
 when you were alive ! " 
 
 "To other people's," said the missionary. 
 " Never to my own." 
 
 "But yours have all proved wrong," said 
 the convert. 
 
 " It looks like it," said the missionary, 
 " and I can't help that. No reason why I 
 should break my word." 
 
 " I never heard the like of this ! " cried 
 the daughter of Miru. " Pray, what do 
 you expect to gain ? " 
 
 " That is not the point," said the mis-
 
 SOMETHING IN IT. 207 
 
 sionary. " I took this pledge for others, 1 
 am not going to break it for myself." 
 
 The daughter of Miru was puzzled ; she 
 came and told her mother, and Miru was 
 vexed ; and they went and told Akaanga. 
 
 " I don't know what to do about this," 
 said Akaanga ; and he came and reasoned 
 with the missionary. 
 
 " But there is such a thing as right and 
 wrong," said the missionary; "and your 
 ovens cannot alter that." 
 
 " Give the kava to the rest," said Akaanga 
 to the daughters of Miru. " I must get rid 
 of this sea-lawyer instantly, or worse will 
 come of it." 
 
 The next moment the missionary came 
 up in the midst of the sea, and there before 
 him were the palm trees of the island. He 
 swam to the shore gladly, and landed. 
 Much matter of thought was in that mis- 
 sionary's mind. 
 
 " I seem to have been misinformed upon 
 some points," said he. " Perhaps there is 
 not much in it, as I supposed ; but there is
 
 208 FABLES. 
 
 something in it after all. Let me be glad 
 of that." 
 
 And he rang the bell for service. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 The sticks break, the stones crumble, 
 The eternal altars tilt and tumble, 
 Sanctions and tales dislimn like mist 
 About the amazed evangelist. 
 He stands unshook from age to youth 
 Upon one pin-point of the truth.
 
 aog 
 
 XVII. 
 
 FAITH, HALF FAITH AND NO FAITH AT 
 ALL. 
 
 IN the ancient days there went three men 
 upon pilgrimage ; one was a priest, and one 
 was a virtuous person, and the third was 
 an old rover with his axe. 
 
 As they went, the priest spoke about the 
 grounds of faith. 
 
 " We find the proofs of our religion in the 
 works of nature," said he, and beat his breast. 
 
 " That is true," said the virtuous person. 
 
 " The peacock has a scrannel voice," said 
 the priest, "as has been laid down always 
 in our books. How cheering ! " he cried, 
 in a voice like one that wept. " How com- 
 forting ! " 
 
 " I require no such proofs," said the 
 
 virtuous person. 
 
 14
 
 210 FABLES. 
 
 11 Then you have no reasonable faith," said 
 the priest. 
 
 " Great is the right, and shall prevail ! " 
 cried the virtuous person. " There is 
 loyalty in my soul ; be sure, there is loyalty 
 in the mind of Odin." 
 
 " These are but playings upon words," 
 returned the priest. " A sackful of such 
 trash is nothing to the peacock." 
 
 Just then they passed a country farm, 
 where there was a peacock seated on a rail ; 
 and the bird opened its mouth and sang 
 with the voice of a nightingale. 
 
 " Where are you now ? " asked the 
 virtuous person. " And yet this shakes not 
 me ! Great is the truth, and shall prevail ! " 
 
 " The devil fly away with that peacock ! " 
 said the priest ; and he was downcast for a 
 mile or two. 
 
 But presently they came to a shrine, 
 where a Fakeer performed miracles. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the priest, " here are the true 
 grounds of faith. The peacock was but an 
 adminicle This is the base of our religion."
 
 FAITH, HALF-FAITH AND NO FAITH AT ALL. 211 
 
 And he beat upon his breast, and groaned 
 like one with colic. 
 
 " Now to me," said the virtuous person, 
 " all this is as little to the purpose as the 
 peacock. I believe because I see the right 
 is great and must prevail ; and this Fakeer 
 might carry on with his conjuring tricks till 
 doomsday, and it would not play bluff upon 
 a man like me." 
 
 Now at this the Fakeer was so much in- 
 censed that his hand trembled ; and, lo ! in 
 the midst of a miracle the cards fell from 
 up his sleeve. 
 
 "Where are you now?" asked the vir- 
 tuous person. " And yet it shakes not me ! " 
 
 " The devil fly away with the Fakeer!" 
 cried the priest. " I really do not see the 
 good of going on with this pilgrimage. " 
 
 " Cheer up ! " cried the virtuous person. 
 " Great is the right, and shall prevail ! " 
 
 "If you are quite sure it will prevail," 
 says the priest. 
 
 " I pledge my word for that," said the 
 virtuous person.
 
 212 FABLES. 
 
 So the other began to go on again with 
 a better heart. 
 
 At last one came running, and told them 
 all was lost : that the powers of darkness 
 had besieged the Heavenly Mansions, that 
 Odin was to die, and evil triumph. 
 
 " I have been grossly deceived," cried the 
 virtuous person. 
 
 " All is lost now," said the priest. 
 
 " I wonder if it is too late to make it up 
 with the devil ? " said the virtuous person. 
 
 " Oh, I hope not," said the priest. " And 
 at any rate we can but try. But what are 
 you doing with your axe ? " says he to the 
 rover. 
 
 " I am off to die with Odin," said the 
 rover.
 
 213 
 
 XVIII. 
 THE TOUCHSTONE. 
 
 THE King was a man that stood well before 
 the world ; his smile was sweet as clover, but 
 his soul withinsides was as little as a pea. 
 He had two sons ; and the younger son was 
 a boy after his heart, but the elder was one 
 whom he feared. It befell one morning 
 that the drum sounded in the dun before it 
 was yet day ; and the King rode with his 
 two sons, and a brave array behind them. 
 They rode two hours, and came to the foot 
 of a brown mountain that was very steep. 
 
 " Where do we ride ? " said the elder 
 son. 
 
 "Across this brown mountain." said the 
 King, and smiled to himself. 
 
 " My father knows what he is doing," 
 said the younger son.
 
 214 FABLES. 
 
 And they rode two hours more, and 
 came to the sides of a black river that was 
 wondrous deep. 
 
 " And where do we ride ? " asked the 
 elder son. 
 
 " Over this black river," said the King, 
 and smiled to himself. 
 
 " My father knows what he is doing," 
 said the younger son. 
 
 And they rode all that day, and about 
 the time of the sunsetting came to the side 
 of a lake, where was a great dun. 
 
 " It is here we ride," said the King ; 
 " to a King's house, and a priest's, and a 
 house where you will learn much." 
 
 At the gates of the dun, the King who 
 was a priest met them ; and he was a grave 
 man, and beside him stood his daughter, 
 and she was as fair as the morn, and one 
 that smiled and looked down. 
 
 " These are my two sons," said the first 
 King. 
 
 "And here is my daughter," said the King 
 who was a priest.
 
 THE TOUCHSTONE. 215 
 
 "She is a wonderful fine maid," said the 
 first King, "and I like her manner of smil- 
 ing." 
 
 
 
 "They are wonderful well-grown lads," 
 said the second, "and I like their gravity." 
 
 And then the two Kings looked at each 
 other, and said, " The thing may come 
 about ". 
 
 And in the meanwhile the two lads looked 
 upon the maid, and the one grew pale and 
 the other red ; and the maid looked upon 
 the ground smiling. 
 
 " Here is the maid that I shall marry," 
 said the elder. " For I think she smiled 
 upon me." 
 
 But the younger plucked his father by the 
 sleeve. " Father," said he, "a word in your 
 ear. If I find favour in your sight, might 
 not I wed this maid, for I think she smiles 
 upon me? " 
 
 "A word in yours," said the King his 
 father. " Waiting is good hunting, and 
 when the teeth are shut the tongue is at 
 home,"
 
 2l6 FABLES. 
 
 Now they were come into the dun, and 
 feasted ; and this was a great house, so that 
 the lads were astonished ; and the King that 
 was a priest sat at the end of the board and 
 was silent, so that the lads were filled with 
 reverence ; and the maid served them smil- 
 ing with downcast eyes, so that their hearts 
 were enlarged. 
 
 Before it was day, the elder son arose, and 
 he found the maid at her weaving, for she 
 was a diligent girl. " Maid," quoth he, " I 
 would fain marry you." 
 
 "You must speak with my father," said 
 she, and she looked upon the ground smil- 
 ing, and became like the rose. 
 
 " Her heart is with me," said the elder 
 son, and he went down to the lake and 
 sang. 
 
 A little after came the younger son. 
 " Maid," quoth he, " if our fathers were 
 agreed, I would like well to marry you." 
 
 " You can speak to my father," said she ; 
 and looked upon the ground, and smiled and 
 grew like the rose.
 
 THE TOUCHSTONE. 2 17 
 
 (f She is a dutiful daughter," said the 
 younger son, " she will make an obedient 
 wife." And then he thought, "What shall 
 I do?" and he remembered the King her 
 father was a priest ; so he went into the 
 temple, and sacrificed a weasel and a hare. 
 
 Presently the news got about ; and the 
 two lads and the first King were called into 
 the presence of the King who was a priest, 
 where he sat upon the high seat. 
 
 " Little I reck of gear," said the King who 
 was a priest, "and little of power. For we 
 live here among the shadow of things, and 
 the heart is sick of seeing them. And we 
 stay here in the wind like raiment drying, 
 and the heart is weary of the wind. But 
 one thing I love, and that is truth ; and for 
 one thing will I give my daughter, and that 
 is the trial stone. For in the light of that 
 stone the seeming goes, and the being 
 shows, and all things besides are worthless. 
 Therefore, lads, if ye would wed my 
 daughter, out foot, and bring me the stone 
 of touch, for that is the price of her."
 
 2l8 FABLES. 
 
 " A word in your ear," said the younger 
 son to his father. " I think we do very 
 well without this stone." 
 
 " A word in yours," said the father. " I 
 am of your way of thinking ; but when the 
 teeth are shut the tongue is at home." And 
 he smiled to the King that was a priest. 
 
 But the elder son got to his feet, and 
 called the King that was a priest by the 
 name of father. " For whether I marry the 
 maid or no, I will call you by that word for 
 the love of your wisdom ; and even now I 
 will ride, forth and search the world for the 
 stone of touch." So he said farewell, and 
 rode into the world. 
 
 " I think I will go, too," said the younger 
 son, "if I can have your leave. For my 
 heart goes out to the maid." 
 
 " You will ride home with me," said his 
 father. 
 
 So they rode home, and when they came 
 to the dun, the King had his son into his 
 treasury. "Here," said he, "is the touch- 
 stone which shows truth ; for there is no
 
 THE TOUCHSTONE. 2 19 
 
 truth but plain truth ; and if you will look 
 in this, you will see yourself as you are." 
 
 And the younger son looked in it, and 
 saw his face as it were the face of a beard- 
 less youth, and he was well enough pleased ; 
 for the thing was a piece of a mirror. 
 
 " Here is no such great thing to make a 
 work about," said he ; " but if it will get me 
 the maid I shall never complain. But what 
 a fool is my brother to ride into the world, 
 and the thing all the while at home ! " 
 
 So they rode back to the other dun, and 
 showed the mirror to the King that was a 
 priest ; and when he had looked in it, and 
 seen himself like a King, and his house like 
 a King's house, and all things like them- 
 selves, he cried out and blessed God. " For 
 now I know," said he, " there is no truth 
 but the plain truth ; and I am a King in- 
 deed, although my heart misgave me." 
 And he pulled down his temple, and built a 
 ^new one ; and then the younger son was 
 married to the maid. 
 
 In the meantime the elder son rode into
 
 22O FABLES. 
 
 the world to find the touchstone of the trial 
 of truth ; and whenever he came to a place 
 of habitation, he would ask the men if they 
 had heard of it. And in every place the 
 men answered : " Not only have we heard 
 of it, but we alone, of all men, possess the 
 thing itself, and it hangs in the side of our 
 chimney to this day". Then would the 
 elder son be glad, and beg for a sight of it. 
 And sometimes it would be a piece of mirror, 
 that showed the seeming of things ; and then 
 he would say, " This can never be, for 
 there should be more than seeming ". And 
 sometimes it would be a lump of coal, 
 which showed nothing ; and then he would 
 say, " This can never be, for at least there 
 is the seeming ". And sometimes it would 
 be a touchstone indeed, beautiful in hue, 
 adorned with polishing, the light inhabiting 
 its sides ; and when he found this, he would 
 beg the thing, and the persons of that place 
 would give it him, for all men were very 
 generous of that gift ; so that at the last 
 he had his wallet full of them, and they
 
 THE TOUCHSTONE. 221 
 
 chinked together when he rode ; and when 
 he halted by the side of the way he would 
 take them out and try them, till his head 
 turned like the sails upon a windmill. 
 
 " A murrain upon this business ! " said the 
 elder son, " for I perceive no end to it. 
 Here I have the red, and here the blue and 
 the green ; and to me they seem all excellent, 
 and yet shame each other. A murrain on 
 the trade! If it were not for the King that 
 is a priest and whom I have called my father, 
 and if it were not for the fair maid of the 
 dun that makes my mouth to sing and my 
 heart enlarge, I would even tumble them all 
 into the salt sea, and go home and be a 
 King like other folk." 
 
 But he was like the hunter that has seen a 
 stag upon a mountain, so that the night may 
 fall, and the fire be kindled, and the lights 
 shine in his house ; but desire of that stag is 
 single in his bosom. 
 
 Now after many years the elder son came 
 upon the sides of the salt sea ; and it was 
 night, and a savage place, and the clamour of
 
 222 FABLES. 
 
 the sea was loud. There he was aware of a 
 house, and a man that sat there by the light 
 of a candle, for he had no fire. Now the 
 elder son came in to him, and the man gave 
 him water to drink, for he had no bread ; 
 and wagged his head when he was spoken 
 to, for he had no words. 
 
 " Have you the touchstone of truth ? " 
 asked the elder son ; and when the man 
 had wagged his head, " I might have known 
 that," cried the elder son. "I have here a 
 wallet full of them!" And with that he 
 laughed, although his heart was weary. 
 
 And with that the man laughed too, and with 
 the fuff of his laughter the candle went out. 
 
 " Sleep," said the man, " for now I think 
 you have come far enough ; and your quest 
 is ended, and my candle is out." 
 
 Now when the morning came, the man 
 gave him a clear pebble in his hand, and it 
 had no beauty and no colour ; and the elder 
 son looked upon it scornfully and shook his 
 head ; and he went away, for it seemed a 
 small affair to him.
 
 THE TOUCHSTONE. 223 
 
 All that day he rode, and his mind was 
 quiet, and the desire of the chase allayed. 
 " How if this poor pebble be the touchstone, 
 after all ? " said he : and he got down from 
 his horse, and emptied forth his wallet by the 
 side of the way. Now, in the light of each 
 other, all the touchstones lost their hue and 
 fire, and withered like stars at morning ; but 
 in the light of the pebble, their beauty re- 
 mained, only the pebble was the most bright. 
 And the elder son smote upon his brow. 
 " How if this be the truth ? " he cried, " that 
 all are a little true ? " And he took the 
 pebble, and turned its light upon the 
 heavens, and they deepened about him like 
 the pit ; and he turned it on the hills, and 
 the hills were cold and rugged, but life ran in 
 their sides so that his own life bounded ; and 
 he turned it on the dust, and he beheld the 
 dust with joy and terror ; and he turned it 
 on himself, and kneeled down and prayed. 
 
 " Now, thanks be to God," said the elder 
 son, " I have found the touchstone ; and now 
 I may turn my reins, and ride home to the
 
 224 FABLES. 
 
 King and to the maid of the dun that makes 
 my mouth to sing and my heart enlarge." 
 
 Now when he came to the dun, he saw 
 children playing by the gate where the King 
 had met him in the old days ; and this stayed 
 his pleasure, for he thought in his heart, "It 
 is here my children should be playing". 
 And when he came into the hall, there was 
 his brother on the high seat and the maid 
 beside him ; and at that his anger rose, 
 for he thought in his heart, "It is I that 
 should be sitting there, and the maid beside 
 me". 
 
 " Who are you ? " said his brother. 
 "And what make you in the dun?" 
 
 " I am your elder brother," he replied. 
 " And I am come to marry the maid, for I 
 have brought the touchstone of truth." 
 
 Then the younger brother laughed aloud. 
 " Why," said he, " I found the touchstone 
 years ago, and married the maid, and there 
 are our children playing at the gate." 
 
 Now at this the elder brother grew as 
 gray as the dawn " I pray you have dealt
 
 THE TOUCHSTONE. 225 
 
 justly," said he, "for I perceive my life is 
 lost." 
 
 " Justly ? " quoth the younger brother. "It 
 becomes you ill, that are a restless man and 
 a runagate, to doubt my justice, or the King 
 my father's, that are sedentary folk and 
 known in the land." 
 
 " Nay," said the elder brother, " you have 
 all else, have patience also ; and suffer me to 
 say the world is full of touchstones, and it 
 appears not easily which is true." 
 
 " I have no shame of mine," said the 
 younger brother. " There it is, and look 
 in it." 
 
 So the elder brother looked in the mirror, 
 and he was sore amazed ; for he was an old 
 man, and his hair was white upon his head ; 
 and he sat down in the hall and wept aloud. 
 
 "Now," said the younger brother, "see 
 what a fool's part you have played, that ran 
 over all the world to seek what was lying in 
 our father's treasury, and came back an old 
 carle for the dogs to bark at, and without 
 
 chick or child. And I that was dutiful and 
 15
 
 226 FABLES. 
 
 wise sit here crowned with virtues and 
 pleasures, and happy in the light of my 
 hearth." 
 
 " Methinks you have a- cruel tongue," said 
 the elder brother ; and he pulled out the clear 
 pebble and turned its light on his brother ; 
 and behold the man was lying, his soul was 
 shrunk into the smallness of a pea, and his 
 heart was a bag of little fears like scorpions, 
 and love was dead in his bosom. And at 
 that the elder brother cried out aloud, and 
 turned the light of the pebble on the maid, 
 and, lo ! she was but a mask of a woman, 
 and withinsides she was quite dead, and she 
 smiled as a clock ticks, and knew not 
 wherefore. 
 
 "Oh, well," said the elder brother, "I 
 perceive there is both good and bad. So 
 fare ye all as well as ye may in the dun ; 
 but I will go forth into the world with my 
 pebble in my pocket."
 
 227 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE POOR THING. 
 
 THERE was a man in the islands who fished 
 for his bare bellyful, and took his life in his 
 hands to go forth upon the sea between four 
 planks. But though he had much ado, he 
 was merry of heart ; and the gulls heard him 
 laugh when the spray met him. And though 
 he had little lore, he was sound of spirit ; 
 and when the fish came to his hook in 
 the mid-waters, he blessed God without 
 weighing. He was bitter poor in goods 
 and bitter ugly of countenance, and he had 
 no wife. 
 
 It fell in the time of the fishing that the 
 man awoke in his house about the midst of 
 the afternoon. The fire burned in the midst, 
 and the smoke went up and the sun came 
 down by the chimney. And the man was
 
 228 FABLES. 
 
 aware of the likeness of one that warmed 
 his hands at the red peats. 
 
 " I greet you," said the man, " in the 
 name of God." 
 
 " I greet you," said he that warmed his 
 hands, "but not in the name of God, for I 
 am none of His ; nor in the name of Hell, for 
 I am not of Hell. For I am but a bloodless 
 thing, less than wind and lighter than a 
 sound, and the wind goes through me like 
 a net, and I am broken by a sound and 
 shaken by the cold." 
 
 " Be plain with me," said the man, " and 
 tell me your name and of your nature." 
 
 " My name," quoth the other, " is not yet 
 named, and my nature not yet sure. For I 
 am part of a man ; and I was a part of your 
 fathers, and went out to fish and fight with 
 them in the ancient days. But now is my 
 turn not yet come ; and I wait until you have 
 a wife, and then shall I be in your son, and 
 a brave part of him, rejoicing manfully 
 to launch the boat into the surf, skilful to 
 direct the helm, and a man of might
 
 THE POOR THING. 229 
 
 where the ring closes and the blows are 
 going." 
 
 " This is a marvellous thing to hear," said 
 the man ; " and if you are indeed to be my 
 son, I fear it will go ill with you ; for I am 
 bitter poor in goods and bitter ugly in face, 
 and I shall never get me a wife if I live to 
 the age of eagles." 
 
 " All this have I come to remedy, my 
 Father," said the Poor Thing ; " for we must 
 go this night to the little isle of sheep, where 
 our fathers lie in the dead-cairn, and to- 
 morrow to the Earl's Hall, and there shall 
 you find a wife by my providing." 
 
 So the man rose and put forth his boat 
 at the time of the sunsetting ; and the Poor 
 Thing sat in the prow, and the spray blew 
 through his bones like snow, and the wind 
 whistled in his teeth, and the boat dipped 
 not with the weight of him. 
 
 " I am fearful to see you, my son," said 
 the man. " For methinks you are no thing 
 of God." 
 
 "It is only the wind that whistles in my
 
 230 FABLES. 
 
 teeth," said the Poor Thing, " and there is 
 no life in me to keep it out." 
 
 So they came to the little isle of sheep, 
 where the surf burst all about it in the midst 
 of the sea, and it was all green with bracken, 
 and all wet with dew, and the moon en- 
 lightened it. They ran the boat into a cove, 
 and set foot to land ; and the man came 
 heavily behind among the rocks in the deep- 
 ness of the bracken, but the Poor Thing 
 went before him like a smoke in the light of 
 the moon. So they came to the dead-cairn, 
 and they laid their ears to the stones ; and 
 the dead complained withinsides like a swarm 
 of bees : " Time was that marrow was in our 
 bones, and strength in our sinews ; and the 
 thoughts of our head were clothed upon 
 with acts and the words of men. But now 
 are we broken in sunder, and the bonds of 
 our bones are loosed, and our thoughts lie 
 in the dust." 
 
 Then said the Poor Thing : " Charge 
 them that they give you the virtue they 
 withheld".
 
 THE POOR THING. 231 
 
 And the man said : " Bones of my fathers, 
 greeting! for I am sprung of your loins. 
 And now, behold, I break open the piled 
 stones of your cairn, and I let in the noon 
 between your ribs. Count it well done, for 
 it was to be ; and give me what I come 
 seeking in the name of blood and in the 
 name of God." 
 
 And the spirits of the dead stirred in the 
 cairn like ants ; and they spoke : " You have 
 broken the roof of our cairn and let in the 
 noon between our ribs ; and you have the 
 strength of the still-living. But what virtue 
 have we ? what power ? or what jewel here 
 in the dust with us, that any living man 
 should covet or receive it ? for we are less 
 than nothing. But we tell you one thing, 
 speaking with many voices like bees, that 
 the way is plain before all like the grooves of 
 launching : So forth into life and fear not, 
 for so did we all in the ancient ages." And 
 their voices passed away like an eddy in a 
 river. 
 
 " Now," said the Poor Thing, " they have
 
 232 FABLES. 
 
 told you a lesson, but make them give you 
 a gift. Stoop your hand among the bones 
 without drawback, and you shall find their 
 treasure." 
 
 So the man stooped his hand, and the 
 dead laid hold upon it many and faint like 
 ants ; but he shook them off, and behold, 
 what he brought up in his hand was the 
 shoe of a horse, and it was rusty. 
 
 "It is a thing of no price," quoth the 
 man, " for it is rusty." 
 
 " We shall see that," said the Poor Thing ; 
 " for in my thought it is a good thing to do 
 what our fathers did, and to keep what they 
 kept without question. And in my thought 
 one thing is as good as another in this 
 world ; and a shoe of a horse will do." 
 
 Now they got into their boat with the 
 horseshoe, and when the dawn was come they 
 were aware of the smoke of the Earl's town 
 and the bells of the Kirk that beat. So they 
 set foot to shore ; and the man went up to 
 the market among the fishers over against 
 the palace and the Kirk ; and he was bitter
 
 THE POOR THING. 233 
 
 poor and bitter ugly, and he had never a 
 fish to sell, but only a shoe of a horse in 
 his creel, and it rusty. 
 
 " Now," said the Poor Thing, "do so and 
 so, and you shall find a wife and I a 
 mother." 
 
 It befell that the Earl's daughter came 
 forth to go into the Kirk upon her prayers ; 
 and when she saw the poor man stand in 
 the market with only the shoe of a horse, 
 and it rusty, it came in her mind it should 
 be a thing of price. 
 
 " What is that ? " quoth she. 
 
 " It is a shoe of a horse," said the man. * 
 
 " And what is the use of it ? " quoth the 
 Earl's daughter. 
 
 "It is for no use," said the man. 
 
 "I may not believe that," said she; "else 
 why should you carry it ? " 
 
 " I do so," said he, " because it was so 
 my fathers did in the ancient ages ; and I 
 .have neither a better reason nor a worse." 
 
 Now the Earl's daughter could not find 
 it in her mind to believe him. "Come,"
 
 234 FABLES. 
 
 quoth she, " sell me this, for I am sure it 
 is a thing of price." 
 
 " Nay," said the man, " the thing is not 
 for sale." 
 
 " What ! " cried the Earl's daughter. 
 " Then what make you here in the town's 
 market, with the thing in your creel and 
 nought beside ? " 
 
 "I sit here," says the man, "to get me 
 a wife." 
 
 " There is no sense in any of these 
 answers," thought the Earl's daughter ; " and 
 I could find it in my heart to weep." 
 
 By came the Earl upon that ; and she 
 called him and told him all. And when he 
 had heard, he was of his daughter's mind 
 that this should be a thing of virtue ; and 
 charged the man to set a price upon the 
 thing, or else be hanged upon the gallows ; 
 and that was near at hand, so that the man 
 could see it. 
 
 " The way of life is straight like the 
 grooves of launching," quoth the man. " And 
 if I am to be hanged let me be hanged."
 
 THE POOR THING. 235 
 
 "Why!" cried the Earl, "will you set 
 your neck against a shoe of a horse, and it 
 rusty ? " 
 
 " In my thought," said the man, " one 
 thing is as good as another in this world ; 
 and a shoe of a horse will do." 
 
 " This can never be," thought the Earl ; 
 and he stood and looked upon the man, and 
 bit his beard. 
 
 And the man looked up at him and smiled. 
 " It was so my fathers did in the ancient 
 ages," quoth he to the Earl, " and I have 
 neither a better reason nor a worse." 
 
 " There is no sense in any of this," 
 thought the Earl, "and I must be growing 
 old." So he had his daughter on one side, 
 and says he : " Many suitors have you de- 
 nied, my child. But here is a very strange 
 matter that a man should cling so to a shoe 
 of a horse, and it rusty ; and that he should 
 offer it like a thing on sale, and yet not sell 
 it ; and that he should sit there seeking a 
 wife. If I come not to the bottom of this 
 thing, I shall have no more pleasure in
 
 236 FABLES. 
 
 bread ; and I can see no way, but either I 
 should hang or you should marry him." 
 
 " By my troth, but he is bitter ugly," said 
 the Earl's daughter. " How if the gallows 
 be so near at hand ? " 
 
 "It was not so," said the Earl, " that my 
 fathers did in the ancient ages. I am like 
 the man, and can give you neither a better 
 reason nor a worse. But do you, prithee, 
 speak with him again." 
 
 So the Earl's daughter spoke to the man. 
 "If you were not so bitter ugly," quoth 
 she, "my father the Earl would have us 
 marry." 
 
 "Bitter ugly am I," said the man, "and 
 you as fair as May. Bitter ugly I am, and 
 what of that ? It was so my fathers " 
 
 "In the name of God," said the Earl's 
 daughter, " let your fathers be ! " 
 
 " If I had done that," said the man, "you 
 had never been chaffering with me here in 
 the market, nor your father the Earl watch- 
 ing with the end of his eye." 
 
 " But come," quoth the Earl's daughter,
 
 THE POOR THING. 237 
 
 " this is a very strange thing, that you would 
 have me wed for a shoe of a horse, and it 
 rusty." 
 
 "In my thought," quoth the man, "one 
 thing is as good " 
 
 " Oh, spare me that," said the Earl's daugh- 
 ter, "and tell me why I should marry." 
 
 " Listen and look," said the man. 
 
 Now the wind blew through the Poor 
 Thing like an infant crying, so that her 
 heart was melted ; and her eyes were un- 
 sealed, and she was aware of the thing as it 
 were a babe unmothered, and she took it 
 to her arms, and it melted in her arms 
 like the air. 
 
 " Come," said the man, " behold a vision 
 of our children, the busy hearth, and the 
 white heads. And let that suffice, for it is 
 all God offers." 
 
 " I have no delight in it," said she ; but 
 with that she sighed. 
 
 " The ways of life are straight like the 
 grooves of launching," said the man ; and 
 he took her by the hand.
 
 238 FABLES. 
 
 "And what shall we do with the horse- 
 shoe ? " quoth she. 
 
 " I will give it to your father," said the 
 man ; " and he can make a kirk and a mill 
 of it for me." 
 
 It came to pass in time that the Poor 
 Thing was born ; but memory of these 
 matters slept within him, and he knew not 
 that which he had done. But he was a part 
 of the eldest son ; rejoicing manfully to 
 launch the boat into the surf, skilful to 
 direct the helm, and a man of might where 
 the ring closes and the blows are going.
 
 239 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE SONG OF THE MORROW. 
 
 THE King of Duntrine had a daughter when 
 he was old, and she was the fairest King's 
 daughter between two seas ; her hair was 
 like spun gold, and her eyes like pools in a 
 river ; and the King gave her a castle upon 
 the sea beach, with a terrace, and a court of 
 the hewn stone, and four towers at the four 
 corners. Here she dwelt and grew up, and 
 had no care for the morrow, and no power 
 upon the hour, after the manner of simple 
 men. 
 
 It befell that she walked one day by 
 the beach of the sea, when it was autumn, 
 and the wind blew from the place of rains ; 
 and upon the one hand of her the sea 
 beat, and upon the other the dead leaves 
 ran. This was the loneliest beach between
 
 240 FABLES. 
 
 two seas, and strange things had been 
 done there in the ancient ages. Now the 
 King's daughter was aware of a crone that 
 sat upon the beach. The sea foam ran to 
 her feet, and the dead leaves swarmed 
 about her back, and the rags blew about 
 her face in the blowing of the wind. 
 
 " Now," said the King's daughter, and 
 she named a holy name, " this is the most 
 unhappy old crone between two seas." 
 
 " Daughter of a King," said the crone, 
 " you dwell in a stone house, and your 
 hair is like the gold : but what is your 
 profit ? Life is not long, nor lives strong ; 
 and you live after the way of simple men, 
 and have no thought for the morrow and 
 no power upon the hour." 
 
 "Thought for the morrow, that I have," 
 said the King's daughter ; " but power 
 upon the hour, that have I not." And she 
 mused with herself. 
 
 Then the crone smote her lean hands 
 one within the other, and laughed like a 
 sea-gull. " Home!" cried she. "O daughter
 
 THE SONG OF THE MORROW. 241 
 
 of a King, home to your stone house; for the 
 longing is come upon you now, nor can you 
 live any more after the manner of simple 
 men. Home, and toil and suffer, till the gift 
 come that will make you bare, and till the 
 man come that will bring you care." 
 
 The King's daughter made no more ado, 
 but she turned about and went home to her 
 house in silence. And when she was come 
 into her chamber she called for her nurse. 
 
 " Nurse," said the King's daughter, 
 " thought is come upon me for the morrow, 
 so that I can live no more after the manner 
 of simple men. Tell me what I must do 
 that I may have power upon the hour." 
 
 Then the nurse moaned like a snow 
 wind. "Alas!" said she, "that this thing 
 should be ; but the thought is gone into your 
 marrow, nor is there any cure against the 
 thought. Be it so, then, even as you will ; 
 though power is less than weakness, power 
 shall you have ; and though the thought is 
 colder than winter, yet shall you think it 
 
 to an end." 
 
 16
 
 242 FABLES. 
 
 So the King's daughter sat in her vaulted 
 chamber in the masoned house, and she 
 thought upon the thought. Nine years she 
 sat ; and the sea beat upon the terrace, and 
 the gulls cried about the turrets, and wind 
 crooned in the chimneys of the house. Nine 
 years she came not abroad, nor tasted the 
 clean air, neither saw God's sky. Nine 
 years she sat and looked neither to the right 
 nor to the left, nor heard speech of any one, 
 but thought upon the thought of the morrow. 
 And her nurse fed her in silence, and she 
 took of the food with her left hand, and ate 
 it without grace. 
 
 Now when the nine years were out, it fell 
 dusk in the autumn, and there came a sound 
 in the wind like a sound of piping. At that 
 the nurse lifted up her finger in the vaulted 
 house. 
 
 " I hear a sound in the wind," said she, 
 "that is like the sound of piping." 
 
 " It is but a little sound," said the King's 
 daughter, " but yet is it sound enough for 
 me."
 
 THE SONG OF THE MORROW. 243 
 
 So they went down in the dusk to the 
 doors of the house, and along the beach of 
 the sea. And the waves beat upon the one 
 hand, and upon the other the dead leaves 
 ran ; and the clouds raced in the sky, and 
 the gulls flew widdershins. And when they 
 came to that part of the beach where strange 
 things had been done in the ancient ages, 
 lo, there was the crone, and she was dancing 
 widdershins. 
 
 " What makes you dance widdershins, old 
 crone ? " said the King's daughter ; " here 
 upon the bleak beach, between the waves 
 and the dead leaves ? " 
 
 " I hear a sound in the wind that is like a 
 sound of piping," quoth she. "And it is for 
 that that I dance widdershins. For the gift 
 comes that will make you bare, and the man 
 comes that must bring you care. But for 
 me the morrow is come that I have thought 
 upon, and the hour of my power." 
 s " How comes it, crone," said the King's 
 daughter, "that you waver like a rag, and 
 pale like a dead leaf before my eyes ? "
 
 244 FABLES. 
 
 " Because the morrow has come that I 
 have thought upon, and the hour of my 
 power," said the crone ; and she fell on the 
 beach, and, lo ! she was but stalks of the sea 
 tangle, and dust of the sea sand, and the 
 sand lice hopped upon the place of her. 
 
 "This is the strangest thing that befell 
 between two seas," said the King's daughter 
 of Duntrine. 
 
 But the nurse broke out and moaned like 
 an autumn gale. " I am weary of the wind," 
 quoth she ; and she bewailed her day. 
 
 The King's daughter was aware of a man 
 upon the beach ; he went hooded so that 
 none might perceive his face, and a pipe 
 was underneath his arm. The sound of his 
 pipe was like singing wasps, and like the 
 wind that sings in windlestraw ; and it took 
 hold upon men's ears like the crying of 
 gulls. 
 
 "Are you the comer?" quoth the King's 
 daughter of Duntrine. 
 
 " I am the comer," said he, " and these are 
 the pipes that a man may hear, and I have
 
 THE SONG OF THE MORROW. 245 
 
 power upon the hour, and this is the song of 
 the morrow." And he piped the song of 
 the morrow, and it was as long as years ; 
 and the nurse wept out aloud at the hearing 
 of it. 
 
 " This is true," said the King's daughter, 
 " that you pipe the song of the morrow ; 
 but that ye have power upon the hour, 
 how may I know that ? Show me a marvel 
 here upon the beach, between the waves and 
 the dead leaves." 
 
 And the man said, " Upon whom ? " 
 
 " Here is my nurse," quoth the King's 
 daughter. " She is weary of the wind. 
 Show me a good marvel upon her." 
 
 And, lo ! the nurse fell upon the beach as 
 it were two handfuls of dead leaves, and 
 the wind whirled them widdershins, and the 
 sand lice hopped between. 
 
 " It is true," said the King's daughter of 
 Duntrine ; ''you are the comer, and you 
 have power upon the hour. Come with 
 me to my stone house." 
 
 So they went by the sea margin, and the
 
 246 FABLES. 
 
 man piped the song of the morrow, and the 
 leaves followed behind them as they went. 
 Then they sat down together ; and the sea 
 beat on the terrace, and the gulls cried about 
 the towers, and the wind crooned in the 
 chimneys of the house. Nine years they 
 sat, and every year when it fell autumn, the 
 man said, " This is the hour, and I have 
 power in it" ; and the daughter of the King 
 said, "Nay, but pipe me the song of the 
 morrow". And he piped it, and it was 
 long like years. 
 
 Now when the nine years were gone, the 
 King's daughter of Duntrine got her to her 
 feet, like one that remembers ; and she 
 looked about her in the masoned house ; 
 and all her servants were gone ; only the 
 man that piped sat upon the terrace with 
 the hand upon his face ; and as he piped the 
 leaves ran about the terrace and the sea 
 beat along the wall. Then she cried to him 
 with a great voice, " This is the hour, and 
 let me see the power in it ". And with that 
 the wind blew off the hood from the man's
 
 THE SONG OF THE MORROW. 247 
 
 face, and, lo ! there was no man there, only 
 the clothes and the hood and the pipes 
 tumbled one upon another in a corner of 
 the terrace, and the dead leaves ran over 
 them. 
 
 And the King's daughter of Duntrine got 
 her to that part of the beach where strange 
 things had been done in the ancient ages ; 
 and there she sat her down. The sea foam 
 ran to her feet, and the dead leaves swarmed 
 about her back, and the veil blew about 
 her face in the blowing of the wind. And 
 when she lifted up her eyes, there was the 
 daughter of a King come walking on the 
 beach. Her hair was like the spun gold, 
 and her eyes like pools in a river, and she 
 had no thought for the morrow and no 
 power upon the hour, after the manner of 
 simple men. 
 
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