Thereupon the servant knocked in a very guarded manner; the door was opened on the chain; and a voice asked from within, `Is that you, Poole?'
`It's all right,' said Poole. `Open the door.'
The hall, when they entered it, was brightly lighted up; the fire was built high; and about the hearth the whole of the servants, men and women, stood huddled together like a flock of sheep. At the sight of Mr Utterson, the housemaid broke into hysterical whimpering; and the cook, crying out, `Bless God! it's Mr Utterson,' ran forward as if to take him in her arms.
`What, what? Are you all here?' said the lawyer, peevishly. `Very irregular, very unseemly: your master would be far from pleased.'
`They're all afraid,' said Poole.
Blank silence followed, no one protesting; only the maid lifted up her voice and now wept loudly.
`Hold your tongue!' Poole said to her, with a ferocity of accent that testified to his own jangled nerves; and indeed when the girl had so suddenly raised the note of her lamentation, they had all started and turned towards the inner door with faces of dreadful expectation. `And now,' continued the butler, addressing the knife-boy, reach me a candle, and we'll get this through hands at once.' And then he begged Mr Utterson to follow him, and led the way to the back garden.
`Now, sir,' said he, `you come as gently as you can. I want you to hear, and I don't want you to be heard. And see here, sir, if by any chance he was to ask you in, don't go.'
Mr Utterson's nerves, at this unlooked-for termination, gave a jerk that nearly threw him from his balance; but he recollected his courage, and followed the butler into the laboratory building and through the surgical theatre, with its lumber of crates and bottles, to the foot of the stair. Here Poole motioned him to stand on one side and listen; while he himself, setting down the candle and making a great and obvious call on his resolution, mounted the steps, and knocked with a somewhat uncertain hand on the red baize of the cabinet door.
`Mr Utterson, sir, asking to see you,' he called; and even as he did so, once more violently signed to the lawyer to give ear.
A voice answered from within: `Tell him I cannot see any one,' it said, complainingly.
`Thank you, sir,' said Poole, with a note of something like triumph in his voice; and taking up his candle, he led Mr Utterson back across the yard and into the great kitchen, where the fire was out and the beetles were leaping on the floor.
`Sir,' he said, looking Mr Utterson in the eyes, `was that my master's voice?'
`It seems much changed,' replied the lawyer, very pale, but giving look for look.
`Changed? Well, yes, I think so,' said the butler. `Have I been twenty years this man's house, to be deceived about his voice? No, sir; master's made away with; he was made away with eight days ago, when we heard him cry out upon the name of God; and who's in there instead of him, and why it stays there, is a thing that cries to Heaven, Mr Utterson!'
`This is a very strange tale, Poole; this is rather a wild tale, my man,' said Mr Utterson, biting his finger. `Suppose it were as you suppose, supposing Dr Jekyll to have been - well, murdered, what could induce the murderer to stay? That won't hold water; it doesn't commend itself to reason.
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