THE STRANGE CASE OF DOCTOR JEKYLL AND MISTER HYDE
PART THREE
DR. JEKYLL WAS QUITE AT EASE
BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
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 remained 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 loose-tongued had already their
foot
on the threshold; they liked to sit a while in his unobtrusive
company,
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,
well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty, with something of a stylish
cast
perhaps, but every mark of capacity and kindness--you could see by
his
looks that he cherished for Mr. Utterson a sincere and warm
affection.
"I have been wanting to speak to you, Jekyll," began the
latter. "You
know that will of yours?"
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 excellent 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," pursued Utterson,
ruthlessly
disregarding the fresh topic.
"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."
"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 indeed it isn't what you
fancy;
it is not as 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 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."
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