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(p.160)

As Bradshaw left, the lawyer looked at his watch. “ And now, Poole, let us 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 buildings, tossed the light of the candle to and fro about their steps, until they came int

o 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; “ aye, 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 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?”.

(p.130-131)

“ 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, aye, before myself, if I could make the choice; but indeed 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.

(p138-139)

“ And now,” said Mr. Utterson, as soon as Poole had left them, “ you have heard the news?”

The doctor shuddered. “ They were crying 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 heart of.”

(p151-155)

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,” replied 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.”

“ 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 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?”

“ 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 greatcoat; 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.The wind made talking difficult, and flecked the blood into the face. It seemed to have swept the streets unusually 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 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 vary 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; 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 protesting; 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 dreadful expectation. “And now”, continued the butler, addressing the knife-boy, “ reach me a candle, and we’ll get this through hands at once”. And then he begged Mr.Utterson to follow him, and led the way to the back garden.

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