It chanced on Sunday, when Mr.
Utterson was on his usual walk with
Mr. Enfield, that their way lay once again through the by-street;
and that when they came in front of the door, both stopped to gaze
on it.
"Well," said Enfield, "that story's at an end at least.
We
shall never see more of Mr. Hyde."
"I hope not," said Utterson. "Did I ever tell you that
I once
saw him, and shared your feeling of repulsion?"
"It was impossible to do the one without the other," returned
Enfield. "And by the way, what an ass you must have thought me,
not to know that this was a back way to Dr. Jekyll's! It was
partly your own fault that I found it out, even when I did."
"So you found it out, did you?" said Utterson. "But if
that
be so, we may step into the court and take a look at the windows.
To tell you the truth, I am uneasy about poor Jekyll; and even
outside, I feel as if the presence of a friend might do him good."
The court was very cool and a little damp, and full of
premature twilight, although the sky, high up overhead, was still
bright with sunset. The middle one of the three windows was
half-way open; and sitting close beside it, taking the air with an
infinite sadness of mien, like some disconsolate prisoner,
Utterson saw Dr. Jekyll.
"What! Jekyll!" he cried. "I trust you are
better."
"I am very low, Utterson," replied the doctor drearily, "very
low. It will not last long, thank God."
"You stay too much indoors," said the lawyer. "You
should be
out, whipping up the circulation like Mr. Enfield and me. (This
is my cousin--Mr. Enfield--Dr. Jekyll.) Come now; get your
hat and take a quick turn with us."
"You are very good," sighed the other. "I should like
to very
much; but no, no, no, it is quite impossible; I dare not. But
indeed, Utterson, I am very glad to see you; this is really a
great pleasure; I would ask you and Mr. Enfield up, but the place
is really not fit."
"Why, then," said the lawyer, good-naturedly, "the best thing
we can do is to stay down here and speak with you from where we
are."
"That is just what I was about to venture to propose,"
returned the doctor with a smile. But the words were hardly
uttered, before the smile was struck out of his face and succeeded
by an expression of such abject terror and despair, as froze the
very blood of the two gentlemen below. They saw it but for a
glimpse for the window was instantly thrust down; but that glimpse
had been sufficient, and they turned and left the court without a
word. In silence, too, they traversed the by-street; and it was
not until they had come into a neighbouring thoroughfare, where
even upon a Sunday there were still some stirrings of life, that
Mr. Utterson at last turned and looked at his companion. They
were both pale; and there was an answering horror in their eyes.
"God forgive us, God forgive us," said Mr. Utterson.
But Mr. Enfield only nodded his head very seriously, and
walked on once more in silence.
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