Incident of Dr. Lanyon

by Robert Louis Stevenson

　　TIME ran on; thousands of pounds were offered in reward, for thedeath of Sir Danvers was resented as a public injury; but Mr. Hydehad disappeared out of the ken of the police as though he had neverexisted. Much of his past was unearthed, indeed, and alldisreputable: tales came out of the man's cruelty, at once socallous and violent; of his vile life, of his strange associates,of the hatred that seemed to have surrounded his career; but of hispresent whereabouts, not a whisper. From the time he had left thehouse in Soho on the morning of the murder, he was simply blottedout; and gradually, as time drew on, Mr. Utterson began to recoverfrom the hotness of his alarm, and to grow more at quiet withhimself. The death of Sir Danvers was, to his way of thinking, morethan paid for by the disappearance of Mr. Hyde. Now that that evilinfluence had been withdrawn, a new life began for Dr. Jekyll. Hecame out of his seclusion, renewed relations with his friends,became once more their familiar guest and entertainer;and whilst he had always been, known forcharities, he was now no less distinguished for religion. He wasbusy, he was much in the open air, he did good; his face seemed toopen and brighten, as if with an inward consciousness of service;and for more than two months, the doctor was at peace.On the 8th of January Utterson had dined at the doctor's with asmall party; Lanyon had been there; and the face of the host hadlooked from one to the other as in the old days when the trio wereinseparable friends. On the 12th, and again on the 14th, the doorwas shut against the lawyer. "The doctor was confined to thehouse," Poole said, "and saw no one." On the 15th, he tried again,and was again refused; and having now been used for the last twomonths to see his friend almost daily, he found this return ofsolitude to weigh upon his spirits. The fifth night he had in Guestto dine with him; and the sixth he betook himself to Dr. Lanyon's.There at least he was not denied admittance; but when he came in,he was shocked at the change which had taken place in the doctor'sappearance. He had his death-warrant written legibly upon his face.The rosy man had grown pale; his flesh had fallen away; he wasvisibly balder and older; and yet it was not so much, these tokensof a swift physical decay that arrested the lawyer's notice, as alook in the eye and quality of manner that seemed to testify tosome deep-seated terror of the mind. It was unlikely that thedoctor should fear death; and yet that was what Utterson wastempted to suspect. "Yes," he thought; "he is a doctor, he mustknow his own state and that his days are counted; and the knowledgeis more than he can bear." And yet when Utterson remarked on hisill-looks, it was with an air of greatness that Lanyon declaredhimself a doomed man."I have had a shock," he said, "and I shall never recover. It is aquestion of weeks. Well, life has been pleasant; I liked it; yes,sir, I used to like it. I sometimes think if we knew all, we shouldbe more glad to get away.""Jekyll is ill, too," observed Utterson. "Have you seen him?"But Lanyon's face changed, and he held up a trembling hand. "I wishto see or hear no more of Dr. Jekyll," he said in a loud, unsteadyvoice. "I am quite done with that person; and I beg that you willspare me any allusion to one whom I regard as dead.""Tut-tut," said Mr. Utterson; and then after a considerable pause,"Can't I do anything?" he inquired. "We are three very old friends,Lanyon; we shall not live to make others.""Nothing can be done," returned Lanyon; "ask himself." He will not see me," said the lawyer."I am not surprised at that," was the reply. "Some day, Utterson,after I am dead, you may perhaps come to learn the right and wrong of this. I cannot tellyou. And in the meantime, if you can sit and talk with me of otherthings, for God's sake, stay and do so; but if you cannot keep clearof this accursed topic, then, in God's name, go, for I cannot bearit."As soon as he got home, Utterson sat down and wrote to Jekyll,complaining of his exclusion from the house, and asking the causeof this unhappy break with Lanyon; and the next day brought him along answer, often very pathetically worded, and sometimes darklymysterious in drift. The quarrel with Lanyon was incurable. "I donot blame our old friend," Jekyll wrote, "but I share his viewthat we must never meet. I mean from henceforth to lead a life ofextreme seclusion; you must not be surprised, nor must you doubtmy friendship, if my door is often shut even to you. You mustsuffer me to go my own dark way. I have brought on myself apunishment and a danger that I cannot name. If I am the chief ofsinners, I am the chief of sufferers also. I could not think thatthis earth contained a place for sufferings and terrors sounmanning; and you can do but one thing, Utterson, to lightenthis destiny, and that is to respect my silence." Utterson wasamazed; the dark influence of Hyde had been withdrawn, the doctorhad returned to his old tasks and amities; a week ago, theprospect had smiled with every promise of a cheerful and anhonoured age; and now in a moment, friendship, and peace of mind, and the wholetenor of his life were wrecked. So great and unprepared a changepointed to madness; but in view of Lanyon's manner and words,there must lie for it some deeper ground.A week afterwards Dr. Lanyon took to his bed, and in somethingless than a fortnight he was dead. The night after the funeral,at which he had been sadly affected, Utterson locked the door ofhis business room, and sitting there by the light of a melancholycandle, drew out and set before him an envelope addressed by thehand and sealed with the seal of his dead friend. "Private: forthe hands of G. J. Utterson alone and in case of his predeceaseto be destroyed unread," so it was emphatically superscribed; andthe lawyer dreaded to behold the contents. "I have buried onefriend to-day," he thought: "what if this should cost meanother?" And then he condemned the fear as a disloyalty, andbroke the seal. Within there was another enclosure, likewisesealed, and marked upon the cover as "not to be opened till thedeath or disappearance of Dr. Henry Jekyll." Utterson could nottrust his eyes. Yes, it was disappearance; here again, as in themad will which he had long ago restored to its author, here againwere the idea of a disappearance and the name of Henry Jekyllbracketed. But in the will, that idea had sprung from thesinister suggestion of the man Hyde; it was set there with a purpose all too plain andhorrible. Written by the hand of Lanyon, what should it mean? Agreat curiosity came on the trustee, to disregard the prohibitionand dive at once to the bottom of these mysteries; butprofessional honour and faith to his dead friend were stringentobligations; and the packet slept in the inmost corner of hisprivate safe.It is one thing to mortify curiosity, another to conquer it; andit may be doubted if, from that day forth, Utterson desired thesociety of his surviving friend with the same eagerness. Hethought of him kindly; but his thoughts were disquieted andfearful. He went to call indeed; but he was perhaps relieved tobe denied admittance; perhaps, in his heart, he preferred tospeak with Poole upon the doorstep and surrounded by the air andsounds of the open city, rather than to be admitted into thathouse of voluntary bondage, and to sit and speak with itsinscrutable recluse. Poole had, indeed, no very pleasant news tocommunicate. The doctor, it appeared, now more than ever confinedhimself to the cabinet over the laboratory, where he wouldsometimes even sleep; he was out of spirits, he had grown verysilent, he did not read; it seemed as if he had something on hismind. Utterson became so used to the unvarying character of thesereports, that he fell off little by little in the frequency ofhis visits.