SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE
From that time forward, Mr. Utterson began to haunt the door in the by street of shops.
In the morning before office hours, at noon when business was
plenty and time scarce, at night under the face of the fogged city moon, by all
lights and at all hours of solitude or concourse, the lawyer was to be found on
his chosen post.
“If he be Mr. Hyde,” he had thought, “I shall be Mr. Seek.”
And at last his patience was rewarded. It was a fine dry night; frost in the
air; the streets as clean as a ballroom floor; the lamps, unshaken by any wind,
drawing a regular pattern of light and shadow. By ten o’clock, when the shops
were closed, the by-street was very solitary and, in spite of the low growl of
London from all round, very silent. Small sounds carried far; domestic sounds
out of the houses were clearly audible on either side of the roadway; and the
rumour of the approach of any passenger preceded him by a long time. Mr.
Utterson had been some minutes at his post, when he was aware of an odd
light footstep drawing near. In the course of his nightly patrols, he had long
grown accustomed to the quaint effect with which the footfalls of a single
person, while he is still a great way off, suddenly spring out distinct from the
vast hum and clatter of the city. Yet his attention had never before been so
sharply and decisively arrested; and it was with a strong, superstitious
prevision of success that he withdrew into the entry of the court.
The steps drew swiftly nearer, and swelled out suddenly louder as they
turned the end of the street. The lawyer, looking forth from the entry, could
soon see what manner of man he had to deal with. He was small and very
plainly dressed and the look of him, even at that distance, went somehow
strongly against the watcher’s inclination. But he made straight for the door,
crossing the roadway to save time; and as he came, he drew a key from his
pocket like one approaching home.
Mr. Utterson stepped out and touched him on the shoulder as he passed.
“Mr. Hyde, I think?”
Mr. Hyde shrank back with a hissing intake of the breath. But his fear was
only momentary; and though he did not look the lawyer in the face, he
answered coolly enough: “That is my name. What do you want?”
“I see you are going in,” returned the lawyer. “I am an old friend of Dr.
Jekyll’s—Mr. Utterson of Gaunt Street—you must have heard of my name;
and meeting you so conveniently, I thought you might admit me.”
“You will not find Dr. Jekyll; he is from home,” replied Mr. Hyde, blowing
in the key. And then suddenly, but still without looking up, “How did you
know me?” he asked.
“On your side,” said Mr. Utterson “will you do me a favour?”
“With pleasure,” replied the other. “What shall it be?”
“Will you let me see your face?” asked the lawyer.
Commenti
Posta un commento