The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson, Part Ten -- The Last Night continued on The Baker Street Universe

The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde

By Robert Louis Stevenson

Part Ten -- The Last Night

They drew near on tiptoe, turned it on its 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 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 building 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 story 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 communicated 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. 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 cobweb which had for years sealed up the entrance. No

where was there any trace of Henry Jekyll dead or alive.

Poole stamped on the flags of the corridor. "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."

"Ay," continued Utterson, "and the fractures, too, are rusty." The two

men 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 I was always bringing him," said Poole; and

even as he spoke, the kettle with a startling 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 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 depths they looked with an involuntary

horror. But it was so turned as to show them nothing but the rosy glow

playing on the roof, the fire sparkling in a hundred 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

tones. "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 lawyer unsealed it, and

several enclosures 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 disappearance; but in place of the name of Edward Hyde, the lawyer,

with indescribable amazement read the name of Gabriel John Utterson. He

looked at Poole, and then back at the paper, 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 up 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 we venture to declare this suicide? O, we must

be careful. I foresee that we may yet involve your master in some dire

catastrophe."

"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 eyes and read

as follows:

"My dear Utterson,--When this shall fall into your hands, I shall have

disappeared, under what circumstances I have not the penetration to

foresee, but my instinct and all the circumstances of my nameless

situation tell me that the end is sure and must be early. 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."

"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.