Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde , livre ebook

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47 pages

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pubOne.info thank you for your continued support and wish to present you this new edition. 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 lovable. 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 was austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, 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. I incline to Cain's heresy, he used to say quaintly: I let my brother go to the devil in his own way. In this character, it was frequently his fortune to be the last reputable acquaintance and the last good influence in the lives of downgoing men

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	23 octobre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819917847
Langue	English

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by Robert Louis Stevenson
Story of the Door
Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a ruggedcountenance that was never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty andembarrassed in discourse; backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty,dreary and yet somehow lovable. At friendly meetings, and when thewine was to his taste, something eminently human beaconed from hiseye; something indeed which never found its way into his talk, butwhich spoke not only in these silent symbols of the after-dinnerface, but more often and loudly in the acts of his life. He wasaustere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify ataste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theater, had notcrossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had an approvedtolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at thehigh pressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and in anyextremity inclined to help rather than to reprove. "I incline toCain's heresy," he used to say quaintly: "I let my brother go tothe devil in his own way." In this character, it was frequently hisfortune to be the last reputable acquaintance and the last goodinfluence in the lives of downgoing men. And to such as these, solong as they came about his chambers, he never marked a shade ofchange in his demeanour.
No doubt the feat was easy to Mr. Utterson; for hewas undemonstrative at the best, and even his friendship seemed tobe founded in a similar catholicity of good-nature. It is the markof a modest man to accept his friendly circle ready-made from thehands of opportunity; and that was the lawyer's way. His friendswere those of his own blood or those whom he had known the longest;his affections, like ivy, were the growth of time, they implied noaptness in the object. Hence, no doubt the bond that united him toMr. Richard Enfield, his distant kinsman, the well-known man abouttown. It was a nut to crack for many, what these two could see ineach other, or what subject they could find in common. It wasreported by those who encountered them in their Sunday walks, thatthey said nothing, looked singularly dull and would hail withobvious relief the appearance of a friend. For all that, the twomen put the greatest store by these excursions, counted them thechief jewel of each week, and not only set aside occasions ofpleasure, but even resisted the calls of business, that they mightenjoy them uninterrupted.
It chanced on one of these rambles that their wayled them down a by-street in a busy quarter of London. The streetwas small and what is called quiet, but it drove a thriving tradeon the weekdays. The inhabitants were all doing well, it seemed andall emulously hoping to do better still, and laying out the surplusof their grains in coquetry; so that the shop fronts stood alongthat thoroughfare with an air of invitation, like rows of smilingsaleswomen. Even on Sunday, when it veiled its more florid charmsand lay comparatively empty of passage, the street shone out incontrast to its dingy neighbourhood, like a fire in a forest; andwith its freshly painted shutters, well-polished brasses, andgeneral cleanliness and gaiety of note, instantly caught andpleased the eye of the passenger.
Two doors from one corner, on the left hand goingeast the line was broken by the entry of a court; and just at thatpoint a certain sinister block of building thrust forward its gableon the street. It was two storeys high; showed no window, nothingbut a door on the lower storey and a blind forehead of discolouredwall on the upper; and bore in every feature, the marks ofprolonged and sordid negligence. The door, which was equipped withneither bell nor knocker, was blistered and distained. Trampsslouched into the recess and struck matches on the panels; childrenkept shop upon the steps; the schoolboy had tried his knife on themouldings; and for close on a generation, no one had appeared todrive away these random visitors or to repair their ravages.
Mr. Enfield and the lawyer were on the other side ofthe by-street; but when they came abreast of the entry, the formerlifted up his cane and pointed.
"Did you ever remark that door?" he asked; and whenhis companion had replied in the affirmative. "It is connected inmy mind," added he, "with a very odd story."
"Indeed?" said Mr. Utterson, with a slight change ofvoice, "and what was that?"
"Well, it was this way," returned Mr. Enfield: "Iwas coming home from some place at the end of the world, aboutthree o'clock of a black winter morning, and my way lay through apart of town where there was literally nothing to be seen butlamps. Street after street and all the folks asleep - street afterstreet, all lighted up as if for a procession and all as empty as achurch - till at last I got into that state of mind when a manlistens and listens and begins to long for the sight of apoliceman. All at once, I saw two figures: one a little man who wasstumping along eastward at a good walk, and the other a girl ofmaybe eight or ten who was running as hard as she was able down across street. Well, sir, the two ran into one another naturallyenough at the corner; and then came the horrible part of the thing;for the man trampled calmly over the child's body and left herscreaming on the ground. It sounds nothing to hear, but it washellish to see. It wasn't like a man; it was like some damnedJuggernaut. I gave a few halloa, took to my heels, collared mygentleman, and brought him back to where there was already quite agroup about the screaming child. He was perfectly cool and made noresistance, but gave me one look, so ugly that it brought out thesweat on me like running. The people who had turned out were thegirl's own family; and pretty soon, the doctor, for whom she hadbeen sent put in his appearance. Well, the child was not much theworse, more frightened, according to the Sawbones; and there youmight have supposed would be an end to it. But there was onecurious circumstance. I had taken a loathing to my gentleman atfirst sight. So had the child's family, which was only natural. Butthe doctor's case was what struck me. He was the usual cut and dryapothecary, of no particular age and colour, with a strongEdinburgh accent and about as emotional as a bagpipe. Well, sir, hewas like the rest of us; every time he looked at my prisoner, I sawthat Sawbones turn sick and white with desire to kill him. I knewwhat was in his mind, just as he knew what was in mine; and killingbeing out of the question, we did the next best. We told the man wecould and would make such a scandal out of this as should make hisname stink from one end of London to the other. If he had anyfriends or any credit, we undertook that he should lose them. Andall the time, as we were pitching it in red hot, we were keepingthe women off him as best we could for they were as wild asharpies. I never saw a circle of such hateful faces; and there wasthe man in the middle, with a kind of black sneering coolness -frightened to, I could see that - but carrying it off, sir, reallylike Satan. `If you choose to make capital out of this accident,'said he, `I am naturally helpless. No gentleman but wishes to avoida scene,' says he. `Name your figure.' Well, we screwed him up to ahundred pounds for the child's family; he would have clearly likedto stick out; but there was something about the lot of us thatmeant mischief, and at last he struck. The next thing was to getthe money; and where do you think he carried us but to that placewith the door? - whipped out a key, went in, and presently cameback with the matter of ten pounds in gold and a cheque for thebalance on Coutts's, drawn payable to bearer and signed with a namethat 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. Thefigure was stiff; but the signature was good for more than that ifit was only genuine. I took the liberty of pointing out to mygentleman that the whole business looked apocryphal, and that a mandoes not, in real life, walk into a cellar door at four in themorning and come out with another man's cheque for close upon ahundred pounds. But he was quite easy and sneering. `Set your mindat rest,' says he, `I will stay with you till the banks open andcash the cheque myself.' So we all set of, the doctor, and thechild's father, and our friend and myself, and passed the rest ofthe 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 Ihad every reason to believe it was a forgery. Not a bit of it. Thecheque was genuine."
"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 todo with, a really damnable man; and the person that drew the chequeis the very pink of the proprieties, celebrated too, and (whatmakes it worse) one of your fellows who do what they call good.Black mail I suppose; an honest man paying through the nose forsome of the capers of his youth. Black Mail House is what I callthe place with the door, in consequence. Though even that, youknow, is far from explaining all," he added, and with the wordsfell into a vein of musing.
From this he was recalled by Mr. Utterson askingrather suddenly: "And you don't know if the drawer of the chequelives there?"
"A likely place, isn't it?" returned Mr. Enfield."But I happen to have noticed his address; he lives in some squareor other."
"And you never asked about the - place with thedoor?" said Mr. Utterson.
"No, sir: I had a delicacy," was the reply. "I feelvery strongly about putting questions; it partakes too much of thestyle of the day of judgment. You start a question, and it's likestarting a stone. You sit quietly on the top of a hill; and awaythe stone goes, starting others; and presently some bland old bird(the last you would have thought of) is knocked on the head in hisown back garden and the family have to change their name. No sir, Imake it a rule of