16 The Other Side of the Door

CHAPTER 16 The Other Side of the Door The butler agreed at once. "Ah, Mr. Utterson, that's talking!" he cried. "How should we go about this?" Utterson asked. "We should arm ourselves. We never know what we might find inside the office." The butler nodded. "There is a croquet mallet in the shed. May I suggest you take the fireplace poker, sir?"

Utterson thought for a moment that he might laugh. Tensions were high. It was hard to believe that he was in this situation. It felt like a passage from an adventure novel. Utterson could say without a doubt that he had never had an experience like this before. It was certainly not how he pictured his evening or the fate of his good friend Dr. Jekyll. "Do you realize, Poole," he said, "that we are about to put ourselves in a situation of some danger?" "You may say so, sir, indeed," returned the butler. "We should be completely honest with one another right now," said Utterson. "Did you recognize the man you saw in the courtyard?" "It's hard to say. It all happened so quickly. And he was doubled over when I saw him, so I can't say for certain," Poole

said. "But if you're asking me whether or not it was Mr. Hyde, well, I'd have to say yes. It looked very much like him. I hate to think it, but it is true. Have you ever met Mr. Hyde?" Poole asked the lawyer. "Yes," Utterson said. "I spoke with him once." "Then you know the response Mr. Hyde brings out in people." "I know it well," Utterson replied. "He literally sent shivers up my spine." "I realize that it isn't proof," Poole whispered. "But when I saw that creature going through the crates, I had the same reaction. I went cold at the sight of him." "Ah," Utterson sighed. "I fear that you may be right. If it was Mr. Hyde that you saw, then Henry Jekyll must surely be dead. Well, then, let's get to it!" The lawyer's heart sank. His hope of finding his friend safe and sound was quickly fading.

"Perhaps you should call the footman, Bradshaw, to stand guard," Utterson suggested. "We may need extra help." Poole agreed and ran back into the house. Bradshaw arrived few moments later, pale and nervous. Although a large man, he was clearly frightened. He was sweating and nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He put his hands in his pockets so the other men wouldn't see them shaking. "Pull yourself together, Bradshaw," Utterson said. "Poole and I are going to break down the office door. We don't know what we might find, or what might happen. There's a chance that the culprit will attempt an escape. Would you please stand guard by the back door?" Bradshaw nodded. "Fine. We'll give you a few minutes to get there." Utterson shook Bradshaw's hand before the footman walked off. The two men remained in silence.

Utterson looked into the night sky, admiring the stars and the heavens. It really is quite remarkable, he thought. Life can provide so many twists and turns but the stars are always beautiful. After a few minutes, Utterson took a deep breath. "And now, Poole, we must be off on our task," Utterson said. The men walked across the courtyard, their candles flickering in the wind. As they walked up the stairwell they could hear pacing across the office floor. "It's like this day and night," Poole said. "The only time the pacing stops is when new medicine arrives. Then, as soon as he realizes the batch isn't right, the pacing starts again." "That is all you hear?" asked Utterson. "Once I heard weeping, sir," Poole answered. "Weeping like a woman or a lost soul." The two men gathered up their nerve outside the office door. Utterson grasped the

fire poker in both hands and shouted. "Jekyll!" he said in a loud voice. "I demand to see you!" He paused a moment, but there was no reply. "I've given you fair warning. We must and shall see you," he resumed. "If not by fair means, then by foul. If not with your consent, then by brute force." "Utterson," the voice said. "Please, have mercy!" "Ah, that's not Jekyll's voice—it's Hyde's!" cried Utterson. "Down with the door, Poole!" Poole used an axe to ram at the door hinges. The first strike let out a loud crash, shaking the door. The second and third strikes moved the door slightly. A horrible screeching sound was heard from within, like an animal under attack. Utterson and Poole looked at one another knowingly. They returned to the door with renewed force and determination. It was not until the fifth strike