《化身博士》

Part 4

The murder of Sir Danvers Carew echoed through London, and Mr. Utterson walked the fog-draped streets with heavier fears than the newsboys’ cries could justify. That was the funeral oration of one friend and client, and Utterson could not help fearing lest the good name of another—Dr. Henry Jekyll—be sucked down in the eddy of the scandal. The letter he carried troubled him the more: it had come by the laboratory door, possibly been written in Jekyll’s own cabinet, and must be handled with greater caution.

That evening, Utterson sat by his hearth with Mr. Guest, his trusted head clerk, a bottle of particular old wine between them. There was no man from whom Utterson kept fewer secrets than Guest; and Guest, being a great student of handwriting, would consider a viewing of the letter natural and obliging.

“This is a sad business about Sir Danvers,” Utterson began.

“I should like to hear your views on that. I have a document here in his handwriting—a murderer’s autograph.”

Guest’s eyes brightened, and he studied the letter with passion. “Not mad, sir; but it is an odd hand.”

Just then a servant entered with a note.

“Is that from Dr. Jekyll, sir? I thought I knew the writing,” Guest inquired.

“Only an invitation to dinner. Why? Do you want to see it?”

The clerk laid the two sheets alongside and sedulously compared them. “Thank you, sir; it is a very interesting autograph.”

Utterson struggled with himself. “Why did you compare them, Guest?”

“Well, sir, there is a rather singular resemblance. The two hands are in many points identical: only differently sloped.”

“Rather quaint,” said Utterson.

“I wouldn’t speak of this note, you know.”

“No, sir. I understand.”

But no sooner was Utterson alone that night than he locked the Hyde letter in his safe. “What!” he thought. “Henry Jekyll forge for a murderer!” And his blood ran cold in his veins.

Incident of Dr. Lanyon

Time ran on; Mr. Hyde had vanished as completely as though he had never existed, though tales of his cruelty and vile life came to light. Gradually, Utterson began to recover from the hotness of his alarm. The death of Sir Danvers was, in his way of thinking, more than paid for by the disappearance of Mr. Hyde. A new life began for Dr. Jekyll: he emerged from seclusion, renewed old relations, became once more the familiar guest. He was busy, much in the open air, doing good; his face seemed to open and brighten with some inward consciousness of service. For more than two months the doctor was at peace.