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.O, I know it's not evidence,Mr.Utterson; I'm book-learned enough for that; but a man has hisfeelings, and I give you my bible-word it was Mr.Hyde!""Ay, ay," said the lawyer."My fears incline to the same point.Evil,I fear, founded evil was sure to come of that connection.Ay truly,I believe you; I believe poor Harry is killed; and I believe hismurderer (for what purpose, God alone can tell) is still lurking in hisvictim's room.Well, let our name be vengeance.Call Bradshaw."The footman came at the summons, very white and nervous."Put yourself together, Bradshaw," said the lawyer."This suspense,I know, is telling upon all of you; but it is now our intention to makean end of it.Poole, here, and I are going to force our way into thecabinet.If all is well, my shoulders are broad enough to bear theblame.Meanwhile, lest anything should really be amiss, or anymalefactor seek to escape by the back, you and the boy must goround the corner with a pair of good sticks and take your post at thelaboratory door.We give you ten minutes, to get to your stations."As Bradshaw left, the lawyer looked at his watch."And now,Poole, let us get to ours," he said; and taking the poker under hisarm, 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 anddraughts into that deep well of building, tossed the light of thecandle to and fro about their steps, until they came into the shelterof the theatre, where they sat down silently to wait.Londonhummed solemnly all around; but nearer at hand, the stillness was only broken by the sounds of a footfall moving to and fro along thecabinet floor."So it will walk all day, sir," whispered Poole; "ay, and the betterpart 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 enemyto rest! Ah, sir, there's blood foully shed in every step of it! But harkagain, a little closer put your heart in your ears, Mr.Utterson, andtell me, is that the doctor's foot?"The steps fell lightly and oddly, with a certain swing, for all theywent so slowly; it was different indeed from the heavy creaking treadof Henry Jekyll.Utterson sighed."Is there never anything else?" heasked.Poole nodded."Once," he said."Once I heard it weeping!""Weeping? how that?" said the lawyer, conscious of a sudden chillof horror."Weeping like a woman or a lost soul," said the butler."I cameaway with that upon my heart, that I could have wept too."But now the ten minutes drew to an end.Poole disinterred the axefrom under a stack of packing straw; the candle was set upon thenearest table to light them to the attack; and they drew near withbated breath to where that patient foot was still going up and down,up and down, in the quiet of the night."Jekyll," cried Utterson, witha loud voice, "I demand to see you." He paused a moment, but therecame no reply."I give you fair warning, our suspicions are aroused,and I must and shall see you," he resumed; "if not by fair means,then by foul if not of your consent, then by brute force!""Utterson," said the voice, "for God's sake, have mercy!""Ah, that's not Jekyll's voice it's Hyde's!" cried Utterson."Downwith the door, Poole!"Poole swung the axe over his shoulder; the blow shook thebuilding, and the red baize door leaped against the lock and hinges.A dismal screech, as of mere animal terror, rang from the cabinet.Up went the axe again, and again the panels crashed and the framebounded; four times the blow fell; but the wood was tough and thefittings were of excellent workmanship; and it was not until the fifth, that the lock burst and the wreck of the door fell inwards on thecarpet.The besiegers, appalled by their own riot and the stillness that hadsucceeded, stood back a little and peered in.There lay the cabinetbefore their eyes in the quiet lamplight, a good fire glowing andchattering on the hearth, the kettle singing its thin strain, a draweror two open, papers neatly set forth on the business table, andnearer the fire, the things laid out for tea; the quietest room, youwould have said, and, but for the glazed presses full of chemicals,the most commonplace that night in London.Right in the middle there lay the body of a man sorely contortedand still twitching.They drew near on tiptoe, turned it on its backand beheld the face of Edward Hyde.He was dressed in clothes fartoo large for him, clothes of the doctor's bigness; the cords of hisface still moved with a semblance of life, but life was quite gone: andby the crushed phial in the hand and the strong smell of kernels thathung upon the air, Utterson knew that he was looking on the bodyof a self-destroyer."We have come too late," he said sternly, "whether to save orpunish.Hyde is gone to his account; and it only remains for us tofind the body of your master."The far greater proportion of the building was occupied by thetheatre, which filled almost the whole ground storey and was lightedfrom above, and by the cabinet, which formed an upper story at oneend and looked upon the court.A corridor joined the theatre to thedoor on the by-street; and with this the cabinet communicatedseparately by a second flight of stairs.There were besides a few darkclosets and a spacious cellar.All these they now thoroughlyexamined.Each closet needed but a glance, for all were empty, andall, by the dust that fell from their doors, had stood long unopened.The cellar, indeed, was filled with crazy lumber, mostly dating fromthe times of the surgeon who was Jekyll's predecessor; but even asthey opened the door they were advertised of the uselessness offurther search, by the fall of a perfect mat of cobweb which had foryears sealed up the entrance.No where was there any trace of HenryJekyll dead or alive.Poole stamped on the flags of the corridor."He must be buriedhere," he said, hearkening to the sound. "Or he may have fled," said Utterson, and he turned to examinethe door in the by-street.It was locked; and lying near by on theflags, 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 ifa man had stamped on it.""Ay," continued Utterson, "and the fractures, too, are rusty." Thetwo 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 occasionalawestruck glance at the dead body, proceeded more thoroughly toexamine the contents of the cabinet
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