It was now March， and Mr Utterson was sitting by thefire after dinner，when he was surprised to receive avisitfrom Doctor Jekyll's servant，Poole．The old man looked paleand frightened．

‘Mr Utterson，he said，‘something is wrong．’

‘Sit down by the fire and tell me all abut it．’

‘The doctor's locked himself up in his study， sir．’

‘That's quite usual， surely，’ said the lawyer． ‘You knowyour master's habits as well as I do．He often shuts himselfaway from the world．’

‘Yes，but this time it's different． It frightens me， sirI've been frightened for more than a week now， and I justcan't go on any longer．

He stopped and stared down at the floor．

‘Try and tell me， Poole，’said Mr Utterson gently． ‘Something terrible is happening to my master．I can't explain． But… please，sir，can you come with me and see foryourself？’

At once Mr Utterson fetched his coat and hat．

‘Thank you， sir，’whispered Poole gratefully．

Together they made their way to Doctor Jekyll's house． Itwas a wild，stormy night．To Mr Utterson the streets seemedstrangely empty and lonely． The square， when they reachedit， was full of wind and flying dust． The thin trees were blowing wildly， and untidy grey clouds were sailing past a pale，sickly moon．

‘Well，sir，’said Poole，‘ here we are， and I hope that nothing is wrong．’He knocked softly at the front door． The doorwas opened just a little and a voice from inside asked，‘Is thatyou，Poole？’

‘Yes-open the door．’

The hall，when they entered，was brightly lit．A good firewas burning．The room was full of people-every servant inthe house was there．They looked like a crowd of frightenedchildren．

‘What's all this？’said the lawyer．‘What are you all doinghere？ Your master would not be pleased．’

‘They're frightened，’said Poole simply．No one elsespoke．A little servant girl began to cry．

‘Quiet！’said Poole sharply，trying to control his own fear．‘Now-fetch me a light and we'll finish this business at once．Mr Utterson， sir， please follow me．’He led the way across theback garden towards the laboratory．

‘Come as quietly as you can， sir．I want you to hear， but Idon't want him to hear you．And sin－if he asks you to go inside-don't go！’

Mr Utterson's heart gave a little jump of fear， but hebravely followed the servant into the laboratory to the bottomof the stairs．

‘Wait here， sir-and listen carefully，whispered Poole． Hehimself，again controlling his fear， climbed the stairs andknocked on the study door．

‘Mr Utterson would like to see you， sir，’he called．

‘Tell him I cannot see anyone，’ said a voice from inside theStudy．

‘Thank you，sir，’said Poole．He led Mr Utterson backacross the garden and into the house． ‘Sir，’he said， ‘was thatmy master's voice？’

The lawyer's face was pale． ‘It has changed，’he said．

‘Changed？ You're right，’said Poole．‘I've worked forDoctof Jekyll for twenty years．That was not my master's voice．Someone has murdered my master． Eight days ago weheard his voice for the last time．“Dear God！”he cried-thenno more．The voice you heard just now was the voice of hismuderer！’

‘This is an extraordinary story， my good man，’said Mr Utterson． He tried hard to appear calm．‘If Dr Jekyll has beenmurdered-why is his murderer still there？ What reason couldhe possibly have for staying？’

‘Perhaps you don't believe me， sir， but I know what Iheard．For a week now the person-or thing-in that studyhas been crying night and day for some special chemical powders．My master was in the habit，when he was particularlybusy with his scientific work，of writing orders on pieces ofpaper and leaving them on the stairs．‘We've had nothing elsethis week， nothing except written orders and a locked door．I've been to every chemist in town in search of these chemicalsof his，but they were never right．They weren't pure enough，he said． I had to take them back to the shop，and try anotherchemist．I don't know what these chemicals are，but the person in that study wants them terribly badly．’

‘Did you keep any of these written orders？’asked Mr Utterson．

Poole reached in his pocket and brought out a note．Thelawyer read it carefully．It said：‘I am returning your chemicals，as they are impure and therefore useless．In the year18-you made up a mixture of chemical powders for DoctorHenry Jekyll． Please search your cupboards for some more ofthe same mixture and send it to Doctor Jekyll AT ONCE．Thisis VERY IMPORTANT．’

‘This is a strange note，’said Mr Utterson．

‘The chemist thought so too，’ sir，’said Poole．‘When I tookhim this note，he cried，“All my chemicals are pure，and youcan tell your master so！”and he threw the note back at me．’

‘Are you sure this is your master's handwriting？’ asked MrUtterson．

‘Of course，sir，’said Poole．‘But what does handwritingmatter？ I've seen my master's murderer！’

‘Seen him？’repeated Mr Utterson．

‘Yes！It was like this．I came suddenly into the laboratoryfrom the garden．I think he had left the study to look forsomething．The study door was open and there he was at thefar end of the laboratory．He was searching among some oldboxes．He looked up when I came in， gave a kind of cry andran upstairs and into the study．I only saw him for a moment，but my blood seemed to freeze．Sir，if that was my master，why was he wearing a mask over his face？ If it was my master， why did he cry out like a trapped animal and run awayfrom me？ I've been his servant for twenty years．And then …’Poole paused，and covered his face with his hands，tooupset to speak．

‘This is all very mysterious，’said Mr Utterson，‘ but I thinkI begin to understand．Your master， Poole，is ill．And the illness has changed his appearance．Perhaps that also explainsthe change in his voice．It certainly explains the mask and theway he has been avoiding his friends．And of course，he's searching for these chemicals he cause he believes they willmake him well again．Dear God，I hope he's right！PoorJekyll-thst is my explanation．It's sad enough，Poole，butit's normal and natural，and there's nothing to be alarmedabout．’

‘Sir，’said the servant，‘that…thing was not my master．My master is a tall，fine，well－built man．The stranger wasmuch shorter… Sir，I have been with my master for twentyyears and I know his appearance as well as I know my own．No，sir，that thing in the mask was never Doctor Jekyll， and Ibelieve that he-it-murdered my master！’

‘Poole，’said the lawyer，if you say that， I must makesure． We must break down the study door．’

‘You're right， Mr Utterson！’cried the old servant．

‘Very well． Will you help me？ If we are wrong， I'll makesure that you're not blamed for it．’

‘There's an axe in the laboratory， suggested Poole．

‘You realize， Poole，’said Mr Utterson，‘that this may bedangerous for us both？ Let us now be honest with each other．This masked figure that you saw-you're certain that it wasnot your master·’

‘That's right， sir．’

‘Did you in fact recognize it？’

‘Well，sir，it was all so quick that I'm not really sure．But－well，I think it was Mr Hyde．It was short，like MrHyde， and it moved in the same light， quick， active way． Andwho else could come in by the laboratory door from the street？You must remember，sir，that at the time of the Carew murder Mr Hyde still had the laboratory key with him． But that's not all．Mr Utterson， did you ever meet Mr Hyde？’

‘Yes，’replied the lawyer．‘I once spoke with him．’

‘Then you will know， sir，that there is something strangeabout Mr Hyde，something evil．’

‘I agree with you，’said Mr Utterson．‘I felt something likethst， too．’

‘Yes，sir．Well，when that thing in the mask jumped outfrom behind the boxes and ran up the stairs，I had exactly thesame feeling．That thing behind the mask was Mr Hydee！’

‘I understand，Poole，and I believe you，’said the lawyerslowly．‘And I believe poor Henry Jekyll has been murdered．I believe too that his murderer is still hiding in the study．Now， Poole， let's go and make an end of it．’

Together they went out into the back garden．The cloudshad covered the moon and it was now quite dark． As theypassed silently by the wall of the laboratory， they stopped andlistened．Further away they could hear the everyday noises of aLondon evening． From the study above them， however，camethe sound of footsteps moving backwards and forwards acrossthe floor．

‘It walks like that all day，sir，’whisperedPoole，‘yes，andmost of the night too．It only stops when some more chemicalsarrive from the chemist．Ah， sir，listen to that-do you thinkthose are my master's footsteps？’

The short，light steps were indeed very different from Henry Jekyll's long，heavy ones．

‘Have you anything else to tell me，Poole？’asked thelawyer heavily．

‘Once，’said Poole，‘I heard it weeping．’

‘Weeping？’repeated Mr Utterson in horror．

‘Weeping like a lost child，’said the old servant．‘It tore myheart． I felt like weeping too．’

‘well，’said the lawyer，‘we have a job to do．’

They went into the laboratory and climbed the stairs to thestudy．‘Jekyll，’called the lawyer in a loud voice，‘I must seeyou．’He paused for a moment，but there was no reply．‘Ifyou refuse to let me in， then I'll break dowu the door！’

‘Utterson，’said a voice from inside the study，‘I beg you toleave me alone！’

‘That's not Jekyll's voice！’ shied Mr Utterson． ‘It's Hyde's！Break the door down， Poole ！’

The axe rose and fell．The door shook and a scream of purefear，like a trapped animal，rang from the study． Again theaxe crashed against the door．But the wood was strong and thelock was well made．At last， however， the door fell inwardsupon the carpet．

The two men stared into the study．They saw a warm，comfortable room with a good fire burning in the fireplace anda few papers on the big table． A friendly， homely room． Butface down in the middle of the floor there lay the body of aman．The lawyer turned it over on its back and saw the face ofEdward Hyde． He was dressed in clothes that were much toolarge for him， and in his hand he held a small bottle．

The lawyer shook his head．‘He's taken poison， Poole， hesaid．‘I fear we've come too late to save Doctor Jekyll， andtoo late to punish his murderer too． Now we must find yourmaster's body．’

They searched everywhere，but there was no sign of HenryJekyll， dead or alive．

‘Perhaps your master has escaped，’said Mr Utterson hopefully． He went to check the door from the laboratory into thenarrow side－street．It was locked，and covered with dust．Onthe floor nearby he found a broken key．

‘It's a long time since anyone opened this door！’ said MrUtterson．

‘Yes，’said Poole，picking up the broken key．‘So how didHyde get in？’

‘This is too difficult for me，Pooh，’said the lawyer．‘Let'sgo back to the study．’

They searched the study again．‘Look，sir，’said Poole，Pointing to a small bable in the corner．There were bottles ofliquid and some white powders lying in saucers．‘He was testing his chemicals here．’

One of the doctor's books was lying on the floor． Its coverwas torn off．The lawyer picked it up．Doctor Jekyll loved hisbooks and always took great care of them． But he had writtenall over this one-the handwriting was unmistakable-beforetearing it and throwing it on the floor．

Then the lawyer noticed the tall mirror on the wall betweenthe glass-fronted bookshelves．

‘How strange，’said Mr Utterson．‘Why did Jekyll want amirror in his study？’

Next they turned to the desk and found a large packet addressed to Mr Utterson． The handwriting was DoctorJekyll's．The lawyer opened the packet and three envelopesfell out on to the floor．The first contained a will． It was likeDoctor Jekyll's first win in every way- except one．The doctor had left all his money，not to Edward Hyde，but to GabrielJohn Utterson．

The lawyer looked at the will，then at Poole，and finally atthe dead man on the floor．

‘I just don't understand，’he whispered．‘Hyde has beenhere all this time-why didn't he destroy this will？’

He picked up the next envelope．It contained a short note inthe doctor's handwriting．Mr Utterson saw the date．‘Poole！’he cried，‘this is today's date on the letter． Jekyllwas alive here today． He can't be dead-he has run away or ishiding somewhere．And if so， why？If he's alive，can we besure that Hyde killed himself？ We must be careful， Poole，orwe may involve your master in some terrible danger．

‘Why don't you read the note， sir？asked the servant．

‘Because I'm afraid，said the lawyer，in a worried voice．Slowly，he lifted the letter，and read：

My dear Utterson，

If you are reading this，it means that I have disappeared．Please go home and read Lanyon's letter．Afterwards，pleaseread the confessicn of

Your unfortunate and unhappy friend，

Henry Jekyll

‘This must be the confession， said Mr Utterson to himself，picking up the third and largest envelope．He put it in hispocket．‘say nothing about these papers， Poole，’he said．‘ Ifyour master has died or disappeared，this paper may save hisreputation．It's now ten o’clock．I must go home and studythese papers in peace and quiet But I shall come back here before midnight，and then we shall send fof the police．

They went out，locking the laboratory door behind them．With a heavy heart Mr Utterson walked home to read his letters．