Added XXH3 hash based digest

digest.mod/digest.bmx

@@ -179,6 +179,6 @@ Type TDigestRegister
 	returns: The message digest or #Null if one of the given name does not exist.
 	about: This method must be implemented by extending types.
 	End Rem
-	Method GeTDigest:TMessageDigest( name:String ) Abstract
+	Method GetDigest:TMessageDigest( name:String ) Abstract
 	
 End Type

xxh3digest.mod/common.bmx

@@ -0,0 +1,44 @@
+' 
+' Copyright (c) 2024 Bruce A Henderson
+' 
+' Redistribution and use in source and binary forms, with or without
+' modification, are permitted provided that the following conditions are met:
+' 
+' 1. Redistributions of source code must retain the above copyright notice, this
+'    list of conditions and the following disclaimer.
+' 
+' 2. Redistributions in binary form must reproduce the above copyright notice,
+'    this list of conditions and the following disclaimer in the documentation
+'    and/or other materials provided with the distribution.
+' 
+' THIS SOFTWARE IS PROVIDED BY THE COPYRIGHT HOLDERS AND CONTRIBUTORS "AS IS"
+' AND ANY EXPRESS OR IMPLIED WARRANTIES, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, THE
+' IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE ARE
+' DISCLAIMED. IN NO EVENT SHALL THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER OR CONTRIBUTORS BE LIABLE
+' FOR ANY DIRECT, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL, SPECIAL, EXEMPLARY, OR CONSEQUENTIAL
+' DAMAGES (INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, PROCUREMENT OF SUBSTITUTE GOODS OR
+' SERVICES; LOSS OF USE, DATA, OR PROFITS; OR BUSINESS INTERRUPTION) HOWEVER
+' CAUSED AND ON ANY THEORY OF LIABILITY, WHETHER IN CONTRACT, STRICT LIABILITY,
+' OR TORT (INCLUDING NEGLIGENCE OR OTHERWISE) ARISING IN ANY WAY OUT OF THE USE
+' OF THIS SOFTWARE, EVEN IF ADVISED OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.
+' 
+SuperStrict
+
+Import Crypto.Digest
+
+
+Import "../../brl.mod/blitz.mod/hash/*.h"
+
+Import "glue.c"
+
+
+Extern
+
+	Function bmx_digest_xxh3_init:Byte Ptr()
+	Function bmx_digest_xxh3_free(handle:Byte Ptr)
+	Function bmx_digest_xxh3_reset(handle:Byte Ptr)
+	Function bmx_digest_xxh3_update(handle:Byte Ptr, buf:Byte Ptr, length:Int)
+	Function bmx_digest_xxh3_finish(handle:Byte Ptr, out:Byte Ptr, size:Int)
+	Function bmx_digest_xxh3_finish_ulong(handle:Byte Ptr, out:ULong Var)
+
+End Extern

xxh3digest.mod/glue.c

@@ -0,0 +1,59 @@
+/*
+  Copyright (c) 2024 Bruce A Henderson
+  
+  Redistribution and use in source and binary forms, with or without
+  modification, are permitted provided that the following conditions are met:
+  
+  1. Redistributions of source code must retain the above copyright notice, this
+     list of conditions and the following disclaimer.
+  
+  2. Redistributions in binary form must reproduce the above copyright notice,
+     this list of conditions and the following disclaimer in the documentation
+     and/or other materials provided with the distribution.
+  
+  THIS SOFTWARE IS PROVIDED BY THE COPYRIGHT HOLDERS AND CONTRIBUTORS "AS IS"
+  AND ANY EXPRESS OR IMPLIED WARRANTIES, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, THE
+  IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE ARE
+  DISCLAIMED. IN NO EVENT SHALL THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER OR CONTRIBUTORS BE LIABLE
+  FOR ANY DIRECT, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL, SPECIAL, EXEMPLARY, OR CONSEQUENTIAL
+  DAMAGES (INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, PROCUREMENT OF SUBSTITUTE GOODS OR
+  SERVICES; LOSS OF USE, DATA, OR PROFITS; OR BUSINESS INTERRUPTION) HOWEVER
+  CAUSED AND ON ANY THEORY OF LIABILITY, WHETHER IN CONTRACT, STRICT LIABILITY,
+  OR TORT (INCLUDING NEGLIGENCE OR OTHERWISE) ARISING IN ANY WAY OUT OF THE USE
+  OF THIS SOFTWARE, EVEN IF ADVISED OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.
+*/
+#include "brl.mod/blitz.mod/hash/xxhash.h"
+#include "brl.mod/blitz.mod/blitz.h"
+
+
+XXH3_state_t * bmx_digest_xxh3_init() {
+    XXH3_state_t* state = XXH3_createState();
+
+    XXH3_64bits_reset(state);
+
+    return state;
+}
+
+void bmx_digest_xxh3_free(XXH3_state_t * state) {
+    XXH3_freeState(state);
+}
+
+void bmx_digest_xxh3_update(XXH3_state_t * state, char * buf, int length) {
+    XXH3_64bits_update(state, buf, length);
+}
+
+void bmx_digest_xxh3_finish(XXH3_state_t * state, char * out, int size) {
+    XXH64_hash_t hash = XXH3_64bits_digest(state);
+    memcpy(out, &hash, size);
+    XXH3_64bits_reset(state); // reset state
+}
+
+void bmx_digest_xxh3_finish_ulong(XXH3_state_t * state, BBULONG * out) {
+    XXH64_hash_t hash = XXH3_64bits_digest(state);
+    *out = hash;
+    XXH3_64bits_reset(state); // reset state
+}
+
+void bmx_digest_xxh3_reset(XXH3_state_t * state) {
+    XXH3_64bits_reset(state);
+}

xxh3digest.mod/tests/story.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,2935 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
+    
+This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online
+at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
+you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
+before using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
+
+Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
+
+Release date: June 27, 2008 [eBook #43]
+                Most recently updated: May 22, 2023
+
+Language: English
+
+Credits: David Widger
+
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE ***
+
+
+
+
+The Strange Case Of Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde
+
+by Robert Louis Stevenson
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+ STORY OF THE DOOR
+
+ SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE
+
+ DR. JEKYLL WAS QUITE AT EASE
+
+ THE CAREW MURDER CASE
+
+ INCIDENT OF THE LETTER
+
+ INCIDENT OF DR. LANYON
+
+ INCIDENT AT THE WINDOW
+
+ THE LAST NIGHT
+
+ DR. LANYON’S NARRATIVE
+
+ HENRY JEKYLL’S FULL STATEMENT OF THE CASE
+
+
+STORY OF THE DOOR
+
+Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was
+never lighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse;
+backward in sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow
+lovable. At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste,
+something eminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which
+never found its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these
+silent symbols of the after-dinner face, but more often and loudly in
+the acts of his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin when he
+was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the
+theatre, had not crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had
+an approved tolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with
+envy, at the high pressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and
+in any extremity inclined to help rather than to reprove. “I incline to
+Cain’s heresy,” he used to say quaintly: “I let my brother go to the
+devil in his own way.” In this character, it was frequently his fortune
+to be the last reputable acquaintance and the last good influence in
+the lives of downgoing men. And to such as these, so long as they came
+about his chambers, he never marked a shade of change in his demeanour.
+
+No doubt the feat was easy to Mr. Utterson; for he was undemonstrative
+at the best, and even his friendship seemed to be founded in a similar
+catholicity of good-nature. It is the mark of a modest man to accept
+his friendly circle ready-made from the hands of opportunity; and that
+was the lawyer’s way. His friends were those of his own blood or those
+whom he had known the longest; his affections, like ivy, were the
+growth of time, they implied no aptness in the object. Hence, no doubt
+the bond that united him to Mr. Richard Enfield, his distant kinsman,
+the well-known man about town. It was a nut to crack for many, what
+these two could see in each other, or what subject they could find in
+common. It was reported by those who encountered them in their Sunday
+walks, that they said nothing, looked singularly dull and would hail
+with obvious relief the appearance of a friend. For all that, the two
+men put the greatest store by these excursions, counted them the chief
+jewel of each week, and not only set aside occasions of pleasure, but
+even resisted the calls of business, that they might enjoy them
+uninterrupted.
+
+It chanced on one of these rambles that their way led them down a
+by-street in a busy quarter of London. The street was small and what is
+called quiet, but it drove a thriving trade on the weekdays. The
+inhabitants were all doing well, it seemed and all emulously hoping to
+do better still, and laying out the surplus of their grains in
+coquetry; so that the shop fronts stood along that thoroughfare with an
+air of invitation, like rows of smiling saleswomen. Even on Sunday,
+when it veiled its more florid charms and lay comparatively empty of
+passage, the street shone out in contrast to its dingy neighbourhood,
+like a fire in a forest; and with its freshly painted shutters,
+well-polished brasses, and general cleanliness and gaiety of note,
+instantly caught and pleased the eye of the passenger.
+
+Two doors from one corner, on the left hand going east the line was
+broken by the entry of a court; and just at that point a certain
+sinister block of building thrust forward its gable on the street. It
+was two storeys high; showed no window, nothing but a door on the lower
+storey and a blind forehead of discoloured wall on the upper; and bore
+in every feature, the marks of prolonged and sordid negligence. The
+door, which was equipped with neither bell nor knocker, was blistered
+and distained. Tramps slouched into the recess and struck matches on
+the panels; children kept shop upon the steps; the schoolboy had tried
+his knife on the mouldings; and for close on a generation, no one had
+appeared to drive away these random visitors or to repair their
+ravages.
+
+Mr. Enfield and the lawyer were on the other side of the by-street; but
+when they came abreast of the entry, the former lifted up his cane and
+pointed.
+
+“Did you ever remark that door?” he asked; and when his companion had
+replied in the affirmative, “It is connected in my mind,” added he,
+“with a very odd story.”
+
+“Indeed?” said Mr. Utterson, with a slight change of voice, “and what
+was that?”
+
+“Well, it was this way,” returned Mr. Enfield: “I was coming home from
+some place at the end of the world, about three o’clock of a black
+winter morning, and my way lay through a part of town where there was
+literally nothing to be seen but lamps. Street after street and all the
+folks asleep—street after street, all lighted up as if for a procession
+and all as empty as a church—till at last I got into that state of mind
+when a man listens and listens and begins to long for the sight of a
+policeman. All at once, I saw two figures: one a little man who was
+stumping along eastward at a good walk, and the other a girl of maybe
+eight or ten who was running as hard as she was able down a cross
+street. Well, sir, the two ran into one another naturally enough at the
+corner; and then came the horrible part of the thing; for the man
+trampled calmly over the child’s body and left her screaming on the
+ground. It sounds nothing to hear, but it was hellish to see. It wasn’t
+like a man; it was like some damned Juggernaut. I gave a few halloa,
+took to my heels, collared my gentleman, and brought him back to where
+there was already quite a group about the screaming child. He was
+perfectly cool and made no resistance, but gave me one look, so ugly
+that it brought out the sweat on me like running. The people who had
+turned out were the girl’s own family; and pretty soon, the doctor, for
+whom she had been sent put in his appearance. Well, the child was not
+much the worse, more frightened, according to the sawbones; and there
+you might have supposed would be an end to it. But there was one
+curious circumstance. I had taken a loathing to my gentleman at first
+sight. So had the child’s family, which was only natural. But the
+doctor’s case was what struck me. He was the usual cut and dry
+apothecary, of no particular age and colour, with a strong Edinburgh
+accent and about as emotional as a bagpipe. Well, sir, he was like the
+rest of us; every time he looked at my prisoner, I saw that sawbones
+turn sick and white with the desire to kill him. I knew what was in his
+mind, just as he knew what was in mine; and killing being out of the
+question, we did the next best. We told the man we could and would make
+such a scandal out of this as should make his name stink from one end
+of London to the other. If he had any friends or any credit, we
+undertook that he should lose them. And all the time, as we were
+pitching it in red hot, we were keeping the women off him as best we
+could for they were as wild as harpies. I never saw a circle of such
+hateful faces; and there was the man in the middle, with a kind of
+black sneering coolness—frightened too, I could see that—but carrying
+it off, sir, really like Satan. ‘If you choose to make capital out of
+this accident,’ said he, ‘I am naturally helpless. No gentleman but
+wishes to avoid a scene,’ says he. ‘Name your figure.’ Well, we screwed
+him up to a hundred pounds for the child’s family; he would have
+clearly liked to stick out; but there was something about the lot of us
+that meant mischief, and at last he struck. The next thing was to get
+the money; and where do you think he carried us but to that place with
+the door?—whipped out a key, went in, and presently came back with the
+matter of ten pounds in gold and a cheque for the balance on Coutts’s,
+drawn payable to bearer and signed with a name that I can’t mention,
+though it’s one of the points of my story, but it was a name at least
+very well known and often printed. The figure was stiff; but the
+signature was good for more than that if it was only genuine. I took
+the liberty of pointing out to my gentleman that the whole business
+looked apocryphal, and that a man does not, in real life, walk into a
+cellar door at four in the morning and come out with another man’s
+cheque for close upon a hundred pounds. But he was quite easy and
+sneering. ‘Set your mind at rest,’ says he, ‘I will stay with you till
+the banks open and cash the cheque myself.’ So we all set off, the
+doctor, and the child’s father, and our friend and myself, and passed
+the rest of the night in my chambers; and next day, when we had
+breakfasted, went in a body to the bank. I gave in the cheque myself,
+and said I had every reason to believe it was a forgery. Not a bit of
+it. The cheque was genuine.”
+
+“Tut-tut!” said Mr. Utterson.
+
+“I see you feel as I do,” said Mr. Enfield. “Yes, it’s a bad story. For
+my man was a fellow that nobody could have to do with, a really
+damnable man; and the person that drew the cheque is the very pink of
+the proprieties, celebrated too, and (what makes it worse) one of your
+fellows who do what they call good. Blackmail, I suppose; an honest man
+paying through the nose for some of the capers of his youth. Black Mail
+House is what I call the place with the door, in consequence. Though
+even that, you know, is far from explaining all,” he added, and with
+the words fell into a vein of musing.
+
+From this he was recalled by Mr. Utterson asking rather suddenly: “And
+you don’t know if the drawer of the cheque lives there?”
+
+“A likely place, isn’t it?” returned Mr. Enfield. “But I happen to have
+noticed his address; he lives in some square or other.”
+
+“And you never asked about the—place with the door?” said Mr. Utterson.
+
+“No, sir; I had a delicacy,” was the reply. “I feel very strongly about
+putting questions; it partakes too much of the style of the day of
+judgment. You start a question, and it’s like starting a stone. You sit
+quietly on the top of a hill; and away the stone goes, starting others;
+and presently some bland old bird (the last you would have thought of)
+is knocked on the head in his own back garden and the family have to
+change their name. No sir, I make it a rule of mine: the more it looks
+like Queer Street, the less I ask.”
+
+“A very good rule, too,” said the lawyer.
+
+“But I have studied the place for myself,” continued Mr. Enfield. “It
+seems scarcely a house. There is no other door, and nobody goes in or
+out of that one but, once in a great while, the gentleman of my
+adventure. There are three windows looking on the court on the first
+floor; none below; the windows are always shut but they’re clean. And
+then there is a chimney which is generally smoking; so somebody must
+live there. And yet it’s not so sure; for the buildings are so packed
+together about the court, that it’s hard to say where one ends and
+another begins.”
+
+The pair walked on again for a while in silence; and then “Enfield,”
+said Mr. Utterson, “that’s a good rule of yours.”
+
+“Yes, I think it is,” returned Enfield.
+
+“But for all that,” continued the lawyer, “there’s one point I want to
+ask. I want to ask the name of that man who walked over the child.”
+
+“Well,” said Mr. Enfield, “I can’t see what harm it would do. It was a
+man of the name of Hyde.”
+
+“Hm,” said Mr. Utterson. “What sort of a man is he to see?”
+
+“He is not easy to describe. There is something wrong with his
+appearance; something displeasing, something down-right detestable. I
+never saw a man I so disliked, and yet I scarce know why. He must be
+deformed somewhere; he gives a strong feeling of deformity, although I
+couldn’t specify the point. He’s an extraordinary looking man, and yet
+I really can name nothing out of the way. No, sir; I can make no hand
+of it; I can’t describe him. And it’s not want of memory; for I declare
+I can see him this moment.”
+
+Mr. Utterson again walked some way in silence and obviously under a
+weight of consideration. “You are sure he used a key?” he inquired at
+last.
+
+“My dear sir...” began Enfield, surprised out of himself.
+
+“Yes, I know,” said Utterson; “I know it must seem strange. The fact
+is, if I do not ask you the name of the other party, it is because I
+know it already. You see, Richard, your tale has gone home. If you have
+been inexact in any point you had better correct it.”
+
+“I think you might have warned me,” returned the other with a touch of
+sullenness. “But I have been pedantically exact, as you call it. The
+fellow had a key; and what’s more, he has it still. I saw him use it
+not a week ago.”
+
+Mr. Utterson sighed deeply but said never a word; and the young man
+presently resumed. “Here is another lesson to say nothing,” said he. “I
+am ashamed of my long tongue. Let us make a bargain never to refer to
+this again.”
+
+“With all my heart,” said the lawyer. “I shake hands on that, Richard.”
+
+
+
+SEARCH FOR MR. HYDE
+
+That evening Mr. Utterson came home to his bachelor house in sombre
+spirits and sat down to dinner without relish. It was his custom of a
+Sunday, when this meal was over, to sit close by the fire, a volume of
+some dry divinity on his reading desk, until the clock of the
+neighbouring church rang out the hour of twelve, when he would go
+soberly and gratefully to bed. On this night however, as soon as the
+cloth was taken away, he took up a candle and went into his business
+room. There he opened his safe, took from the most private part of it a
+document endorsed on the envelope as Dr. Jekyll’s Will and sat down
+with a clouded brow to study its contents. The will was holograph, for
+Mr. Utterson though he took charge of it now that it was made, had
+refused to lend the least assistance in the making of it; it provided
+not only that, in case of the decease of Henry Jekyll, M.D., D.C.L.,
+L.L.D., F.R.S., etc., all his possessions were to pass into the hands
+of his “friend and benefactor Edward Hyde,” but that in case of Dr.
+Jekyll’s “disappearance or unexplained absence for any period exceeding
+three calendar months,” the said Edward Hyde should step into the said
+Henry Jekyll’s shoes without further delay and free from any burthen or
+obligation beyond the payment of a few small sums to the members of the
+doctor’s household. This document had long been the lawyer’s eyesore.
+It offended him both as a lawyer and as a lover of the sane and
+customary sides of life, to whom the fanciful was the immodest. And
+hitherto it was his ignorance of Mr. Hyde that had swelled his
+indignation; now, by a sudden turn, it was his knowledge. It was
+already bad enough when the name was but a name of which he could learn
+no more. It was worse when it began to be clothed upon with detestable
+attributes; and out of the shifting, insubstantial mists that had so
+long baffled his eye, there leaped up the sudden, definite presentment
+of a fiend.
+
+“I thought it was madness,” he said, as he replaced the obnoxious paper
+in the safe, “and now I begin to fear it is disgrace.”
+
+With that he blew out his candle, put on a greatcoat, and set forth in
+the direction of Cavendish Square, that citadel of medicine, where his
+friend, the great Dr. Lanyon, had his house and received his crowding
+patients. “If anyone knows, it will be Lanyon,” he had thought.
+
+The solemn butler knew and welcomed him; he was subjected to no stage
+of delay, but ushered direct from the door to the dining-room where Dr.
+Lanyon sat alone over his wine. This was a hearty, healthy, dapper,
+red-faced gentleman, with a shock of hair prematurely white, and a
+boisterous and decided manner. At sight of Mr. Utterson, he sprang up
+from his chair and welcomed him with both hands. The geniality, as was
+the way of the man, was somewhat theatrical to the eye; but it reposed
+on genuine feeling. For these two were old friends, old mates both at
+school and college, both thorough respectors of themselves and of each
+other, and what does not always follow, men who thoroughly enjoyed each
+other’s company.
+
+After a little rambling talk, the lawyer led up to the subject which so
+disagreeably preoccupied his mind.
+
+“I suppose, Lanyon,” said he, “you and I must be the two oldest friends
+that Henry Jekyll has?”
+
+“I wish the friends were younger,” chuckled Dr. Lanyon. “But I suppose
+we are. And what of that? I see little of him now.”
+
+“Indeed?” said Utterson. “I thought you had a bond of common interest.”
+
+“We had,” was the reply. “But it is more than ten years since Henry
+Jekyll became too fanciful for me. He began to go wrong, wrong in mind;
+and though of course I continue to take an interest in him for old
+sake’s sake, as they say, I see and I have seen devilish little of the
+man. Such unscientific balderdash,” added the doctor, flushing suddenly
+purple, “would have estranged Damon and Pythias.”
+
+This little spirit of temper was somewhat of a relief to Mr. Utterson.
+“They have only differed on some point of science,” he thought; and
+being a man of no scientific passions (except in the matter of
+conveyancing), he even added: “It is nothing worse than that!” He gave
+his friend a few seconds to recover his composure, and then approached
+the question he had come to put. “Did you ever come across a _protégé_
+of his—one Hyde?” he asked.
+
+“Hyde?” repeated Lanyon. “No. Never heard of him. Since my time.”
+
+That was the amount of information that the lawyer carried back with
+him to the great, dark bed on which he tossed to and fro, until the
+small hours of the morning began to grow large. It was a night of
+little ease to his toiling mind, toiling in mere darkness and besieged
+by questions.
+
+Six o’clock struck on the bells of the church that was so conveniently
+near to Mr. Utterson’s dwelling, and still he was digging at the
+problem. Hitherto it had touched him on the intellectual side alone;
+but now his imagination also was engaged, or rather enslaved; and as he
+lay and tossed in the gross darkness of the night and the curtained
+room, Mr. Enfield’s tale went by before his mind in a scroll of lighted
+pictures. He would be aware of the great field of lamps of a nocturnal
+city; then of the figure of a man walking swiftly; then of a child
+running from the doctor’s; and then these met, and that human
+Juggernaut trod the child down and passed on regardless of her screams.
+Or else he would see a room in a rich house, where his friend lay
+asleep, dreaming and smiling at his dreams; and then the door of that
+room would be opened, the curtains of the bed plucked apart, the
+sleeper recalled, and lo! there would stand by his side a figure to
+whom power was given, and even at that dead hour, he must rise and do
+its bidding. The figure in these two phases haunted the lawyer all
+night; and if at any time he dozed over, it was but to see it glide
+more stealthily through sleeping houses, or move the more swiftly and
+still the more swiftly, even to dizziness, through wider labyrinths of
+lamplighted city, and at every street corner crush a child and leave
+her screaming. And still the figure had no face by which he might know
+it; even in his dreams, it had no face, or one that baffled him and
+melted before his eyes; and thus it was that there sprang up and grew
+apace in the lawyer’s mind a singularly strong, almost an inordinate,
+curiosity to behold the features of the real Mr. Hyde. If he could but
+once set eyes on him, he thought the mystery would lighten and perhaps
+roll altogether away, as was the habit of mysterious things when well
+examined. He might see a reason for his friend’s strange preference or
+bondage (call it which you please) and even for the startling clause of
+the will. At least it would be a face worth seeing: the face of a man
+who was without bowels of mercy: a face which had but to show itself to
+raise up, in the mind of the unimpressionable Enfield, a spirit of
+enduring hatred.
+
+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.
+
+Mr. Hyde appeared to hesitate, and then, as if upon some sudden
+reflection, fronted about with an air of defiance; and the pair stared
+at each other pretty fixedly for a few seconds. “Now I shall know you
+again,” said Mr. Utterson. “It may be useful.”
+
+“Yes,” returned Mr. Hyde, “It is as well we have met; and _à propos_,
+you should have my address.” And he gave a number of a street in Soho.
+
+“Good God!” thought Mr. Utterson, “can he, too, have been thinking of
+the will?” But he kept his feelings to himself and only grunted in
+acknowledgment of the address.
+
+“And now,” said the other, “how did you know me?”
+
+“By description,” was the reply.
+
+“Whose description?”
+
+“We have common friends,” said Mr. Utterson.
+
+“Common friends,” echoed Mr. Hyde, a little hoarsely. “Who are they?”
+
+“Jekyll, for instance,” said the lawyer.
+
+“He never told you,” cried Mr. Hyde, with a flush of anger. “I did not
+think you would have lied.”
+
+“Come,” said Mr. Utterson, “that is not fitting language.”
+
+The other snarled aloud into a savage laugh; and the next moment, with
+extraordinary quickness, he had unlocked the door and disappeared into
+the house.
+
+The lawyer stood awhile when Mr. Hyde had left him, the picture of
+disquietude. Then he began slowly to mount the street, pausing every
+step or two and putting his hand to his brow like a man in mental
+perplexity. The problem he was thus debating as he walked, was one of a
+class that is rarely solved. Mr. Hyde was pale and dwarfish, he gave an
+impression of deformity without any nameable malformation, he had a
+displeasing smile, he had borne himself to the lawyer with a sort of
+murderous mixture of timidity and boldness, and he spoke with a husky,
+whispering and somewhat broken voice; all these were points against
+him, but not all of these together could explain the hitherto unknown
+disgust, loathing and fear with which Mr. Utterson regarded him. “There
+must be something else,” said the perplexed gentleman. “There _is_
+something more, if I could find a name for it. God bless me, the man
+seems hardly human! Something troglodytic, shall we say? or can it be
+the old story of Dr. Fell? or is it the mere radiance of a foul soul
+that thus transpires through, and transfigures, its clay continent? The
+last, I think; for, O my poor old Harry Jekyll, if ever I read Satan’s
+signature upon a face, it is on that of your new friend.”
+
+Round the corner from the by-street, there was a square of ancient,
+handsome houses, now for the most part decayed from their high estate
+and let in flats and chambers to all sorts and conditions of men;
+map-engravers, architects, shady lawyers and the agents of obscure
+enterprises. One house, however, second from the corner, was still
+occupied entire; and at the door of this, which wore a great air of
+wealth and comfort, though it was now plunged in darkness except for
+the fanlight, Mr. Utterson stopped and knocked. A well-dressed, elderly
+servant opened the door.
+
+“Is Dr. Jekyll at home, Poole?” asked the lawyer.
+
+“I will see, Mr. Utterson,” said Poole, admitting the visitor, as he
+spoke, into a large, low-roofed, comfortable hall paved with flags,
+warmed (after the fashion of a country house) by a bright, open fire,
+and furnished with costly cabinets of oak. “Will you wait here by the
+fire, sir? or shall I give you a light in the dining-room?”
+
+“Here, thank you,” said the lawyer, and he drew near and leaned on the
+tall fender. This hall, in which he was now left alone, was a pet fancy
+of his friend the doctor’s; and Utterson himself was wont to speak of
+it as the pleasantest room in London. But tonight there was a shudder
+in his blood; the face of Hyde sat heavy on his memory; he felt (what
+was rare with him) a nausea and distaste of life; and in the gloom of
+his spirits, he seemed to read a menace in the flickering of the
+firelight on the polished cabinets and the uneasy starting of the
+shadow on the roof. He was ashamed of his relief, when Poole presently
+returned to announce that Dr. Jekyll was gone out.
+
+“I saw Mr. Hyde go in by the old dissecting room, Poole,” he said. “Is
+that right, when Dr. Jekyll is from home?”
+
+“Quite right, Mr. Utterson, sir,” replied the servant. “Mr. Hyde has a
+key.”
+
+“Your master seems to repose a great deal of trust in that young man,
+Poole,” resumed the other musingly.
+
+“Yes, sir, he does indeed,” said Poole. “We have all orders to obey
+him.”
+
+“I do not think I ever met Mr. Hyde?” asked Utterson.
+
+“O, dear no, sir. He never _dines_ here,” replied the butler. “Indeed
+we see very little of him on this side of the house; he mostly comes
+and goes by the laboratory.”
+
+“Well, good-night, Poole.”
+
+“Good-night, Mr. Utterson.”
+
+And the lawyer set out homeward with a very heavy heart. “Poor Harry
+Jekyll,” he thought, “my mind misgives me he is in deep waters! He was
+wild when he was young; a long while ago to be sure; but in the law of
+God, there is no statute of limitations. Ay, it must be that; the ghost
+of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace: punishment
+coming, _pede claudo_, years after memory has forgotten and self-love
+condoned the fault.” And the lawyer, scared by the thought, brooded
+awhile on his own past, groping in all the corners of memory, least by
+chance some Jack-in-the-Box of an old iniquity should leap to light
+there. His past was fairly blameless; few men could read the rolls of
+their life with less apprehension; yet he was humbled to the dust by
+the many ill things he had done, and raised up again into a sober and
+fearful gratitude by the many he had come so near to doing yet avoided.
+And then by a return on his former subject, he conceived a spark of
+hope. “This Master Hyde, if he were studied,” thought he, “must have
+secrets of his own; black secrets, by the look of him; secrets compared
+to which poor Jekyll’s worst would be like sunshine. Things cannot
+continue as they are. It turns me cold to think of this creature
+stealing like a thief to Harry’s bedside; poor Harry, what a wakening!
+And the danger of it; for if this Hyde suspects the existence of the
+will, he may grow impatient to inherit. Ay, I must put my shoulders to
+the wheel—if Jekyll will but let me,” he added, “if Jekyll will only
+let me.” For once more he saw before his mind’s eye, as clear as
+transparency, the strange clauses of the will.
+
+
+
+DR. JEKYLL WAS QUITE AT EASE
+
+A fortnight later, by excellent good fortune, the doctor gave one of
+his pleasant dinners to some five or six old cronies, all intelligent,
+reputable men and all judges of good wine; and Mr. Utterson so
+contrived that he remained behind after the others had departed. This
+was no new arrangement, but a thing that had befallen many scores of
+times. Where Utterson was liked, he was liked well. Hosts loved to
+detain the dry lawyer, when the light-hearted and loose-tongued had
+already their foot on the threshold; they liked to sit a while in his
+unobtrusive company, practising for solitude, sobering their minds in
+the man’s rich silence after the expense and strain of gaiety. To this
+rule, Dr. Jekyll was no exception; and as he now sat on the opposite
+side of the fire—a large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty, with
+something of a slyish cast perhaps, but every mark of capacity and
+kindness—you could see by his looks that he cherished for Mr. Utterson
+a sincere and warm affection.
+
+“I have been wanting to speak to you, Jekyll,” began the latter. “You
+know that will of yours?”
+
+A close observer might have gathered that the topic was distasteful;
+but the doctor carried it off gaily. “My poor Utterson,” said he, “you
+are unfortunate in such a client. I never saw a man so distressed as
+you were by my will; unless it were that hide-bound pedant, Lanyon, at
+what he called my scientific heresies. O, I know he’s a good fellow—you
+needn’t frown—an excellent fellow, and I always mean to see more of
+him; but a hide-bound pedant for all that; an ignorant, blatant pedant.
+I was never more disappointed in any man than Lanyon.”
+
+“You know I never approved of it,” pursued Utterson, ruthlessly
+disregarding the fresh topic.
+
+“My will? Yes, certainly, I know that,” said the doctor, a trifle
+sharply. “You have told me so.”
+
+“Well, I tell you so again,” continued the lawyer. “I have been
+learning something of young Hyde.”
+
+The large handsome face of Dr. Jekyll grew pale to the very lips, and
+there came a blackness about his eyes. “I do not care to hear more,”
+said he. “This is a matter I thought we had agreed to drop.”
+
+“What I heard was abominable,” said Utterson.
+
+“It can make no change. You do not understand my position,” returned
+the doctor, with a certain incoherency of manner. “I am painfully
+situated, Utterson; my position is a very strange—a very strange one.
+It is one of those affairs that cannot be mended by talking.”
+
+“Jekyll,” said Utterson, “you know me: I am a man to be trusted. Make a
+clean breast of this in confidence; and I make no doubt I can get you
+out of it.”
+
+“My good Utterson,” said the doctor, “this is very good of you, this is
+downright good of you, and I cannot find words to thank you in. I
+believe you fully; I would trust you before any man alive, ay, before
+myself, if I could make the choice; but indeed it isn’t what you fancy;
+it is not as bad as that; and just to put your good heart at rest, I
+will tell you one thing: the moment I choose, I can be rid of Mr. Hyde.
+I give you my hand upon that; and I thank you again and again; and I
+will just add one little word, Utterson, that I’m sure you’ll take in
+good part: this is a private matter, and I beg of you to let it sleep.”
+
+Utterson reflected a little, looking in the fire.
+
+“I have no doubt you are perfectly right,” he said at last, getting to
+his feet.
+
+“Well, but since we have touched upon this business, and for the last
+time I hope,” continued the doctor, “there is one point I should like
+you to understand. I have really a very great interest in poor Hyde. I
+know you have seen him; he told me so; and I fear he was rude. But I do
+sincerely take a great, a very great interest in that young man; and if
+I am taken away, Utterson, I wish you to promise me that you will bear
+with him and get his rights for him. I think you would, if you knew
+all; and it would be a weight off my mind if you would promise.”
+
+“I can’t pretend that I shall ever like him,” said the lawyer.
+
+“I don’t ask that,” pleaded Jekyll, laying his hand upon the other’s
+arm; “I only ask for justice; I only ask you to help him for my sake,
+when I am no longer here.”
+
+Utterson heaved an irrepressible sigh. “Well,” said he, “I promise.”
+
+
+
+THE CAREW MURDER CASE
+
+Nearly a year later, in the month of October, 18—, London was startled
+by a crime of singular ferocity and rendered all the more notable by
+the high position of the victim. The details were few and startling. A
+maid servant living alone in a house not far from the river, had gone
+upstairs to bed about eleven. Although a fog rolled over the city in
+the small hours, the early part of the night was cloudless, and the
+lane, which the maid’s window overlooked, was brilliantly lit by the
+full moon. It seems she was romantically given, for she sat down upon
+her box, which stood immediately under the window, and fell into a
+dream of musing. Never (she used to say, with streaming tears, when she
+narrated that experience), never had she felt more at peace with all
+men or thought more kindly of the world. And as she so sat she became
+aware of an aged beautiful gentleman with white hair, drawing near
+along the lane; and advancing to meet him, another and very small
+gentleman, to whom at first she paid less attention. When they had come
+within speech (which was just under the maid’s eyes) the older man
+bowed and accosted the other with a very pretty manner of politeness.
+It did not seem as if the subject of his address were of great
+importance; indeed, from his pointing, it sometimes appeared as if he
+were only inquiring his way; but the moon shone on his face as he
+spoke, and the girl was pleased to watch it, it seemed to breathe such
+an innocent and old-world kindness of disposition, yet with something
+high too, as of a well-founded self-content. Presently her eye wandered
+to the other, and she was surprised to recognise in him a certain Mr.
+Hyde, who had once visited her master and for whom she had conceived a
+dislike. He had in his hand a heavy cane, with which he was trifling;
+but he answered never a word, and seemed to listen with an
+ill-contained impatience. And then all of a sudden he broke out in a
+great flame of anger, stamping with his foot, brandishing the cane, and
+carrying on (as the maid described it) like a madman. The old gentleman
+took a step back, with the air of one very much surprised and a trifle
+hurt; and at that Mr. Hyde broke out of all bounds and clubbed him to
+the earth. And next moment, with ape-like fury, he was trampling his
+victim under foot and hailing down a storm of blows, under which the
+bones were audibly shattered and the body jumped upon the roadway. At
+the horror of these sights and sounds, the maid fainted.
+
+It was two o’clock when she came to herself and called for the police.
+The murderer was gone long ago; but there lay his victim in the middle
+of the lane, incredibly mangled. The stick with which the deed had been
+done, although it was of some rare and very tough and heavy wood, had
+broken in the middle under the stress of this insensate cruelty; and
+one splintered half had rolled in the neighbouring gutter—the other,
+without doubt, had been carried away by the murderer. A purse and gold
+watch were found upon the victim: but no cards or papers, except a
+sealed and stamped envelope, which he had been probably carrying to the
+post, and which bore the name and address of Mr. Utterson.
+
+This was brought to the lawyer the next morning, before he was out of
+bed; and he had no sooner seen it and been told the circumstances, than
+he shot out a solemn lip. “I shall say nothing till I have seen the
+body,” said he; “this may be very serious. Have the kindness to wait
+while I dress.” And with the same grave countenance he hurried through
+his breakfast and drove to the police station, whither the body had
+been carried. As soon as he came into the cell, he nodded.
+
+“Yes,” said he, “I recognise him. I am sorry to say that this is Sir
+Danvers Carew.”
+
+“Good God, sir,” exclaimed the officer, “is it possible?” And the next
+moment his eye lighted up with professional ambition. “This will make a
+deal of noise,” he said. “And perhaps you can help us to the man.” And
+he briefly narrated what the maid had seen, and showed the broken
+stick.
+
+Mr. Utterson had already quailed at the name of Hyde; but when the
+stick was laid before him, he could doubt no longer; broken and
+battered as it was, he recognised it for one that he had himself
+presented many years before to Henry Jekyll.
+
+“Is this Mr. Hyde a person of small stature?” he inquired.
+
+“Particularly small and particularly wicked-looking, is what the maid
+calls him,” said the officer.
+
+Mr. Utterson reflected; and then, raising his head, “If you will come
+with me in my cab,” he said, “I think I can take you to his house.”
+
+It was by this time about nine in the morning, and the first fog of the
+season. A great chocolate-coloured pall lowered over heaven, but the
+wind was continually charging and routing these embattled vapours; so
+that as the cab crawled from street to street, Mr. Utterson beheld a
+marvelous number of degrees and hues of twilight; for here it would be
+dark like the back-end of evening; and there would be a glow of a rich,
+lurid brown, like the light of some strange conflagration; and here,
+for a moment, the fog would be quite broken up, and a haggard shaft of
+daylight would glance in between the swirling wreaths. The dismal
+quarter of Soho seen under these changing glimpses, with its muddy
+ways, and slatternly passengers, and its lamps, which had never been
+extinguished or had been kindled afresh to combat this mournful
+reinvasion of darkness, seemed, in the lawyer’s eyes, like a district
+of some city in a nightmare. The thoughts of his mind, besides, were of
+the gloomiest dye; and when he glanced at the companion of his drive,
+he was conscious of some touch of that terror of the law and the law’s
+officers, which may at times assail the most honest.
+
+As the cab drew up before the address indicated, the fog lifted a
+little and showed him a dingy street, a gin palace, a low French eating
+house, a shop for the retail of penny numbers and twopenny salads, many
+ragged children huddled in the doorways, and many women of many
+different nationalities passing out, key in hand, to have a morning
+glass; and the next moment the fog settled down again upon that part,
+as brown as umber, and cut him off from his blackguardly surroundings.
+This was the home of Henry Jekyll’s favourite; of a man who was heir to
+a quarter of a million sterling.
+
+An ivory-faced and silvery-haired old woman opened the door. She had an
+evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy: but her manners were excellent. Yes,
+she said, this was Mr. Hyde’s, but he was not at home; he had been in
+that night very late, but he had gone away again in less than an hour;
+there was nothing strange in that; his habits were very irregular, and
+he was often absent; for instance, it was nearly two months since she
+had seen him till yesterday.
+
+“Very well, then, we wish to see his rooms,” said the lawyer; and when
+the woman began to declare it was impossible, “I had better tell you
+who this person is,” he added. “This is Inspector Newcomen of Scotland
+Yard.”
+
+A flash of odious joy appeared upon the woman’s face. “Ah!” said she,
+“he is in trouble! What has he done?”
+
+Mr. Utterson and the inspector exchanged glances. “He don’t seem a very
+popular character,” observed the latter. “And now, my good woman, just
+let me and this gentleman have a look about us.”
+
+In the whole extent of the house, which but for the old woman remained
+otherwise empty, Mr. Hyde had only used a couple of rooms; but these
+were furnished with luxury and good taste. A closet was filled with
+wine; the plate was of silver, the napery elegant; a good picture hung
+upon the walls, a gift (as Utterson supposed) from Henry Jekyll, who
+was much of a connoisseur; and the carpets were of many plies and
+agreeable in colour. At this moment, however, the rooms bore every mark
+of having been recently and hurriedly ransacked; clothes lay about the
+floor, with their pockets inside out; lock-fast drawers stood open; and
+on the hearth there lay a pile of grey ashes, as though many papers had
+been burned. From these embers the inspector disinterred the butt end
+of a green cheque book, which had resisted the action of the fire; the
+other half of the stick was found behind the door; and as this clinched
+his suspicions, the officer declared himself delighted. A visit to the
+bank, where several thousand pounds were found to be lying to the
+murderer’s credit, completed his gratification.
+
+“You may depend upon it, sir,” he told Mr. Utterson: “I have him in my
+hand. He must have lost his head, or he never would have left the stick
+or, above all, burned the cheque book. Why, money’s life to the man. We
+have nothing to do but wait for him at the bank, and get out the
+handbills.”
+
+This last, however, was not so easy of accomplishment; for Mr. Hyde had
+numbered few familiars—even the master of the servant maid had only
+seen him twice; his family could nowhere be traced; he had never been
+photographed; and the few who could describe him differed widely, as
+common observers will. Only on one point were they agreed; and that was
+the haunting sense of unexpressed deformity with which the fugitive
+impressed his beholders.
+
+
+
+INCIDENT OF THE LETTER
+
+It was late in the afternoon, when Mr. Utterson found his way to Dr.
+Jekyll’s door, where he was at once admitted by Poole, and carried down
+by the kitchen offices and across a yard which had once been a garden,
+to the building which was indifferently known as the laboratory or
+dissecting rooms. The doctor had bought the house from the heirs of a
+celebrated surgeon; and his own tastes being rather chemical than
+anatomical, had changed the destination of the block at the bottom of
+the garden. It was the first time that the lawyer had been received in
+that part of his friend’s quarters; and he eyed the dingy, windowless
+structure with curiosity, and gazed round with a distasteful sense of
+strangeness as he crossed the theatre, once crowded with eager students
+and now lying gaunt and silent, the tables laden with chemical
+apparatus, the floor strewn with crates and littered with packing
+straw, and the light falling dimly through the foggy cupola. At the
+further end, a flight of stairs mounted to a door covered with red
+baize; and through this, Mr. Utterson was at last received into the
+doctor’s cabinet. It was a large room fitted round with glass presses,
+furnished, among other things, with a cheval-glass and a business
+table, and looking out upon the court by three dusty windows barred
+with iron. The fire burned in the grate; a lamp was set lighted on the
+chimney shelf, for even in the houses the fog began to lie thickly; and
+there, close up to the warmth, sat Dr. Jekyll, looking deathly sick. He
+did not rise to meet his visitor, but held out a cold hand and bade him
+welcome in a changed voice.
+
+“And now,” said Mr. Utterson, as soon as Poole had left them, “you have
+heard the news?”
+
+The doctor shuddered. “They were crying it in the square,” he said. “I
+heard them in my dining-room.”
+
+“One word,” said the lawyer. “Carew was my client, but so are you, and
+I want to know what I am doing. You have not been mad enough to hide
+this fellow?”
+
+“Utterson, I swear to God,” cried the doctor, “I swear to God I will
+never set eyes on him again. I bind my honour to you that I am done
+with him in this world. It is all at an end. And indeed he does not
+want my help; you do not know him as I do; he is safe, he is quite
+safe; mark my words, he will never more be heard of.”
+
+The lawyer listened gloomily; he did not like his friend’s feverish
+manner. “You seem pretty sure of him,” said he; “and for your sake, I
+hope you may be right. If it came to a trial, your name might appear.”
+
+“I am quite sure of him,” replied Jekyll; “I have grounds for certainty
+that I cannot share with any one. But there is one thing on which you
+may advise me. I have—I have received a letter; and I am at a loss
+whether I should show it to the police. I should like to leave it in
+your hands, Utterson; you would judge wisely, I am sure; I have so
+great a trust in you.”
+
+“You fear, I suppose, that it might lead to his detection?” asked the
+lawyer.
+
+“No,” said the other. “I cannot say that I care what becomes of Hyde; I
+am quite done with him. I was thinking of my own character, which this
+hateful business has rather exposed.”
+
+Utterson ruminated awhile; he was surprised at his friend’s
+selfishness, and yet relieved by it. “Well,” said he, at last, “let me
+see the letter.”
+
+The letter was written in an odd, upright hand and signed “Edward
+Hyde”: and it signified, briefly enough, that the writer’s benefactor,
+Dr. Jekyll, whom he had long so unworthily repaid for a thousand
+generosities, need labour under no alarm for his safety, as he had
+means of escape on which he placed a sure dependence. The lawyer liked
+this letter well enough; it put a better colour on the intimacy than he
+had looked for; and he blamed himself for some of his past suspicions.
+
+“Have you the envelope?” he asked.
+
+“I burned it,” replied Jekyll, “before I thought what I was about. But
+it bore no postmark. The note was handed in.”
+
+“Shall I keep this and sleep upon it?” asked Utterson.
+
+“I wish you to judge for me entirely,” was the reply. “I have lost
+confidence in myself.”
+
+“Well, I shall consider,” returned the lawyer. “And now one word more:
+it was Hyde who dictated the terms in your will about that
+disappearance?”
+
+The doctor seemed seized with a qualm of faintness; he shut his mouth
+tight and nodded.
+
+“I knew it,” said Utterson. “He meant to murder you. You had a fine
+escape.”
+
+“I have had what is far more to the purpose,” returned the doctor
+solemnly: “I have had a lesson—O God, Utterson, what a lesson I have
+had!” And he covered his face for a moment with his hands.
+
+On his way out, the lawyer stopped and had a word or two with Poole.
+“By the bye,” said he, “there was a letter handed in to-day: what was
+the messenger like?” But Poole was positive nothing had come except by
+post; “and only circulars by that,” he added.
+
+This news sent off the visitor with his fears renewed. Plainly the
+letter had come by the laboratory door; possibly, indeed, it had been
+written in the cabinet; and if that were so, it must be differently
+judged, and handled with the more caution. The newsboys, as he went,
+were crying themselves hoarse along the footways: “Special edition.
+Shocking murder of an M.P.” That was the funeral oration of one friend
+and client; and he could not help a certain apprehension lest the good
+name of another should be sucked down in the eddy of the scandal. It
+was, at least, a ticklish decision that he had to make; and
+self-reliant as he was by habit, he began to cherish a longing for
+advice. It was not to be had directly; but perhaps, he thought, it
+might be fished for.
+
+Presently after, he sat on one side of his own hearth, with Mr. Guest,
+his head clerk, upon the other, and midway between, at a nicely
+calculated distance from the fire, a bottle of a particular old wine
+that had long dwelt unsunned in the foundations of his house. The fog
+still slept on the wing above the drowned city, where the lamps
+glimmered like carbuncles; and through the muffle and smother of these
+fallen clouds, the procession of the town’s life was still rolling in
+through the great arteries with a sound as of a mighty wind. But the
+room was gay with firelight. In the bottle the acids were long ago
+resolved; the imperial dye had softened with time, as the colour grows
+richer in stained windows; and the glow of hot autumn afternoons on
+hillside vineyards, was ready to be set free and to disperse the fogs
+of London. Insensibly the lawyer melted. There was no man from whom he
+kept fewer secrets than Mr. Guest; and he was not always sure that he
+kept as many as he meant. Guest had often been on business to the
+doctor’s; he knew Poole; he could scarce have failed to hear of Mr.
+Hyde’s familiarity about the house; he might draw conclusions: was it
+not as well, then, that he should see a letter which put that mystery
+to right? and above all since Guest, being a great student and critic
+of handwriting, would consider the step natural and obliging? The
+clerk, besides, was a man of counsel; he could scarce read so strange a
+document without dropping a remark; and by that remark Mr. Utterson
+might shape his future course.
+
+“This is a sad business about Sir Danvers,” he said.
+
+“Yes, sir, indeed. It has elicited a great deal of public feeling,”
+returned Guest. “The man, of course, was mad.”
+
+“I should like to hear your views on that,” replied Utterson. “I have a
+document here in his handwriting; it is between ourselves, for I scarce
+know what to do about it; it is an ugly business at the best. But there
+it is; quite in your way: a murderer’s autograph.”
+
+Guest’s eyes brightened, and he sat down at once and studied it with
+passion. “No sir,” he said: “not mad; but it is an odd hand.”
+
+“And by all accounts a very odd writer,” added the lawyer.
+
+Just then the servant entered with a note.
+
+“Is that from Dr. Jekyll, sir?” inquired the clerk. “I thought I knew
+the writing. Anything private, Mr. Utterson?”
+
+“Only an invitation to dinner. Why? Do you want to see it?”
+
+“One moment. I thank you, sir;” and the clerk laid the two sheets of
+paper alongside and sedulously compared their contents. “Thank you,
+sir,” he said at last, returning both; “it’s a very interesting
+autograph.”
+
+There was a pause, during which Mr. Utterson struggled with himself.
+“Why did you compare them, Guest?” he inquired suddenly.
+
+“Well, sir,” returned the clerk, “there’s a rather singular
+resemblance; the two hands are in many points identical: only
+differently sloped.”
+
+“Rather quaint,” said Utterson.
+
+“It is, as you say, rather quaint,” returned Guest.
+
+“I wouldn’t speak of this note, you know,” said the master.
+
+“No, sir,” said the clerk. “I understand.”
+
+But no sooner was Mr. Utterson alone that night, than he locked the
+note into his safe, where it reposed from that time forward. “What!” he
+thought. “Henry Jekyll forge for a murderer!” And his blood ran cold in
+his veins.
+
+
+
+INCIDENT OF DR. LANYON
+
+Time ran on; thousands of pounds were offered in reward, for the death
+of Sir Danvers was resented as a public injury; but Mr. Hyde had
+disappeared out of the ken of the police as though he had never
+existed. Much of his past was unearthed, indeed, and all disreputable:
+tales came out of the man’s cruelty, at once so callous and violent; of
+his vile life, of his strange associates, of the hatred that seemed to
+have surrounded his career; but of his present whereabouts, not a
+whisper. From the time he had left the house in Soho on the morning of
+the murder, he was simply blotted out; and gradually, as time drew on,
+Mr. Utterson began to recover from the hotness of his alarm, and to
+grow more at quiet with himself. The death of Sir Danvers was, to his
+way of thinking, more than paid for by the disappearance of Mr. Hyde.
+Now that that evil influence had been withdrawn, a new life began for
+Dr. Jekyll. He came out of his seclusion, renewed relations with his
+friends, became once more their familiar guest and entertainer; and
+whilst he had always been known for charities, he was now no less
+distinguished for religion. He was busy, he was much in the open air,
+he did good; his face seemed to open 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 a small
+party; Lanyon had been there; and the face of the host had looked from
+one to the other as in the old days when the trio were inseparable
+friends. On the 12th, and again on the 14th, the door was shut against
+the lawyer. “The doctor was confined to the house,” Poole said, “and
+saw no one.” On the 15th, he tried again, and was again refused; and
+having now been used for the last two months to see his friend almost
+daily, he found this return of solitude to weigh upon his spirits. The
+fifth night he had in Guest to 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’s
+appearance. He had his death-warrant written legibly upon his face. The
+rosy man had grown pale; his flesh had fallen away; he was visibly
+balder and older; and yet it was not so much these tokens of a swift
+physical decay that arrested the lawyer’s notice, as a look in the eye
+and quality of manner that seemed to testify to some deep-seated terror
+of the mind. It was unlikely that the doctor should fear death; and yet
+that was what Utterson was tempted to suspect. “Yes,” he thought; “he
+is a doctor, he must know his own state and that his days are counted;
+and the knowledge is more than he can bear.” And yet when Utterson
+remarked on his ill looks, it was with an air of great firmness that
+Lanyon declared himself a doomed man.
+
+“I have had a shock,” he said, “and I shall never recover. It is a
+question 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 should be 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 wish to
+see or hear no more of Dr. Jekyll,” he said in a loud, unsteady voice.
+“I am quite done with that person; and I beg that you will spare 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 tell you. And in the meantime, if you can sit and talk with me
+of other things, for God’s sake, stay and do so; but if you cannot keep
+clear of this accursed topic, then in God’s name, go, for I cannot bear
+it.”
+
+As soon as he got home, Utterson sat down and wrote to Jekyll,
+complaining of his exclusion from the house, and asking the cause of
+this unhappy break with Lanyon; and the next day brought him a long
+answer, often very pathetically worded, and sometimes darkly mysterious
+in drift. The quarrel with Lanyon was incurable. “I do not blame our
+old friend,” Jekyll wrote, “but I share his view that we must never
+meet. I mean from henceforth to lead a life of extreme seclusion; you
+must not be surprised, nor must you doubt my friendship, if my door is
+often shut even to you. You must suffer me to go my own dark way. I
+have brought on myself a punishment and a danger that I cannot name. If
+I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also. I could
+not think that this earth contained a place for sufferings and terrors
+so unmanning; and you can do but one thing, Utterson, to lighten this
+destiny, and that is to respect my silence.” Utterson was amazed; the
+dark influence of Hyde had been withdrawn, the doctor had returned to
+his old tasks and amities; a week ago, the prospect had smiled with
+every promise of a cheerful and an honoured age; and now in a moment,
+friendship, and peace of mind, and the whole tenor of his life were
+wrecked. So great and unprepared a change pointed 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 something less
+than a fortnight he was dead. The night after the funeral, at which he
+had been sadly affected, Utterson locked the door of his business room,
+and sitting there by the light of a melancholy candle, drew out and set
+before him an envelope addressed by the hand and sealed with the seal
+of his dead friend. “PRIVATE: for the hands of G. J. Utterson ALONE,
+and in case of his predecease _to be destroyed unread_,” so it was
+emphatically superscribed; and the lawyer dreaded to behold the
+contents. “I have buried one friend to-day,” he thought: “what if this
+should cost me another?” And then he condemned the fear as a
+disloyalty, and broke the seal. Within there was another enclosure,
+likewise sealed, and marked upon the cover as “not to be opened till
+the death or disappearance of Dr. Henry Jekyll.” Utterson could not
+trust his eyes. Yes, it was disappearance; here again, as in the mad
+will which he had long ago restored to its author, here again were the
+idea of a disappearance and the name of Henry Jekyll bracketted. But in
+the will, that idea had sprung from the sinister suggestion of the man
+Hyde; it was set there with a purpose all too plain and horrible.
+Written by the hand of Lanyon, what should it mean? A great curiosity
+came on the trustee, to disregard the prohibition and dive at once to
+the bottom of these mysteries; but professional honour and faith to his
+dead friend were stringent obligations; and the packet slept in the
+inmost corner of his private safe.
+
+It is one thing to mortify curiosity, another to conquer it; and it may
+be doubted if, from that day forth, Utterson desired the society of his
+surviving friend with the same eagerness. He thought of him kindly; but
+his thoughts were disquieted and fearful. He went to call indeed; but
+he was perhaps relieved to be denied admittance; perhaps, in his heart,
+he preferred to speak with Poole upon the doorstep and surrounded by
+the air and sounds of the open city, rather than to be admitted into
+that house of voluntary bondage, and to sit and speak with its
+inscrutable recluse. Poole had, indeed, no very pleasant news to
+communicate. The doctor, it appeared, now more than ever confined
+himself to the cabinet over the laboratory, where he would sometimes
+even sleep; he was out of spirits, he had grown very silent, he did not
+read; it seemed as if he had something on his mind. Utterson became so
+used to the unvarying character of these reports, that he fell off
+little by little in the frequency of his visits.
+
+
+
+INCIDENT AT THE WINDOW
+
+It chanced on Sunday, when Mr. Utterson was on his usual walk with Mr.
+Enfield, that their way lay once again through the by-street; and that
+when they came in front of the door, both stopped to gaze on it.
+
+“Well,” said Enfield, “that story’s at an end at least. We shall never
+see more of Mr. Hyde.”
+
+“I hope not,” said Utterson. “Did I ever tell you that I once saw him,
+and shared your feeling of repulsion?”
+
+“It was impossible to do the one without the other,” returned Enfield.
+“And by the way, what an ass you must have thought me, not to know that
+this was a back way to Dr. Jekyll’s! It was partly your own fault that
+I found it out, even when I did.”
+
+“So you found it out, did you?” said Utterson. “But if that be so, we
+may step into the court and take a look at the windows. To tell you the
+truth, I am uneasy about poor Jekyll; and even outside, I feel as if
+the presence of a friend might do him good.”
+
+The court was very cool and a little damp, and full of premature
+twilight, although the sky, high up overhead, was still bright with
+sunset. The middle one of the three windows was half-way open; and
+sitting close beside it, taking the air with an infinite sadness of
+mien, like some disconsolate prisoner, Utterson saw Dr. Jekyll.
+
+“What! Jekyll!” he cried. “I trust you are better.”
+
+“I am very low, Utterson,” replied the doctor drearily, “very low. It
+will not last long, thank God.”
+
+“You stay too much indoors,” said the lawyer. “You should be out,
+whipping up the circulation like Mr. Enfield and me. (This is my
+cousin—Mr. Enfield—Dr. Jekyll.) Come now; get your hat and take a quick
+turn with us.”
+
+“You are very good,” sighed the other. “I should like to very much; but
+no, no, no, it is quite impossible; I dare not. But indeed, Utterson, I
+am very glad to see you; this is really a great pleasure; I would ask
+you and Mr. Enfield up, but the place is really not fit.”
+
+“Why, then,” said the lawyer, good-naturedly, “the best thing we can do
+is to stay down here and speak with you from where we are.”
+
+“That is just what I was about to venture to propose,” returned the
+doctor with a smile. But the words were hardly uttered, before the
+smile was struck out of his face and succeeded by an expression of such
+abject terror and despair, as froze the very blood of the two gentlemen
+below. They saw it but for a glimpse for the window was instantly
+thrust down; but that glimpse had been sufficient, and they turned and
+left the court without a word. In silence, too, they traversed the
+by-street; and it was not until they had come into a neighbouring
+thoroughfare, where even upon a Sunday there were still some stirrings
+of life, that Mr. Utterson at last turned and looked at his companion.
+They were both pale; and there was an answering horror in their eyes.
+
+“God forgive us, God forgive us,” said Mr. Utterson.
+
+But Mr. Enfield only nodded his head very seriously, and walked on once
+more in silence.
+
+
+
+THE LAST NIGHT
+
+Mr. Utterson was sitting by his fireside one evening after dinner, when
+he was surprised to receive a visit from Poole.
+
+“Bless me, Poole, what brings you here?” he cried; and then taking a
+second look at him, “What ails you?” he added; “is the doctor ill?”
+
+“Mr. Utterson,” said the man, “there is something wrong.”
+
+“Take a seat, and here is a glass of wine for you,” said the lawyer.
+“Now, take your time, and tell me plainly what you want.”
+
+“You know the doctor’s ways, sir,” replied Poole, “and how he shuts
+himself up. Well, he’s shut up again in the cabinet; and I don’t like
+it, sir—I wish I may die if I like it. Mr. Utterson, sir, I’m afraid.”
+
+“Now, my good man,” said the lawyer, “be explicit. What are you afraid
+of?”
+
+“I’ve been afraid for about a week,” returned Poole, doggedly
+disregarding the question, “and I can bear it no more.”
+
+The man’s appearance amply bore out his words; his manner was altered
+for the worse; and except for the moment when he had first announced
+his terror, he had not once looked the lawyer in the face. Even now, he
+sat with the glass of wine untasted on his knee, and his eyes directed
+to a corner of the floor. “I can bear it no more,” he repeated.
+
+“Come,” said the lawyer, “I see you have some good reason, Poole; I see
+there is something seriously amiss. Try to tell me what it is.”
+
+“I think there’s been foul play,” said Poole, hoarsely.
+
+“Foul play!” cried the lawyer, a good deal frightened and rather
+inclined to be irritated in consequence. “What foul play! What does the
+man mean?”
+
+“I daren’t say, sir,” was the answer; “but will you come along with me
+and see for yourself?”
+
+Mr. Utterson’s only answer was to rise and get his hat and greatcoat;
+but he observed with wonder the greatness of the relief that appeared
+upon the butler’s face, and perhaps with no less, that the wine was
+still untasted when he set it down to follow.
+
+It was a wild, cold, seasonable night of March, with a pale moon, lying
+on her back as though the wind had tilted her, and flying wrack of the
+most diaphanous and lawny texture. The wind made talking difficult, and
+flecked the blood into the face. It seemed to have swept the streets
+unusually bare of passengers, besides; for Mr. Utterson thought he had
+never seen that part of London so deserted. He could have wished it
+otherwise; never in his life had he been conscious of so sharp a wish
+to see and touch his fellow-creatures; for struggle as he might, there
+was borne in upon his mind a crushing anticipation of calamity. The
+square, when they got there, was full of wind and dust, and the thin
+trees in the garden were lashing themselves along the railing. Poole,
+who had kept all the way a pace or two ahead, now pulled up in the
+middle of the pavement, and in spite of the biting weather, took off
+his hat and mopped his brow with a red pocket-handkerchief. But for all
+the hurry of his coming, these were not the dews of exertion that he
+wiped away, but the moisture of some strangling anguish; for his face
+was white and his voice, when he spoke, harsh and broken.
+
+“Well, sir,” he said, “here we are, and God grant there be nothing
+wrong.”
+
+“Amen, Poole,” said the lawyer.
+
+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 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 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 anyone,” 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 in 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.”
+
+“Well, Mr. Utterson, you are a hard man to satisfy, but I’ll do it
+yet,” said Poole. “All this last week (you must know) him, or it,
+whatever it is that lives in that cabinet, has been crying night and
+day for some sort of medicine and cannot get it to his mind. It was
+sometimes his way—the master’s, that is—to write his orders on a sheet
+of paper and throw it on the stair. We’ve had nothing else this week
+back; nothing but papers, and a closed door, and the very meals left
+there to be smuggled in when nobody was looking. Well, sir, every day,
+ay, and twice and thrice in the same day, there have been orders and
+complaints, and I have been sent flying to all the wholesale chemists
+in town. Every time I brought the stuff back, there would be another
+paper telling me to return it, because it was not pure, and another
+order to a different firm. This drug is wanted bitter bad, sir,
+whatever for.”
+
+“Have you any of these papers?” asked Mr. Utterson.
+
+Poole felt in his pocket and handed out a crumpled note, which the
+lawyer, bending nearer to the candle, carefully examined. Its contents
+ran thus: “Dr. Jekyll presents his compliments to Messrs. Maw. He
+assures them that their last sample is impure and quite useless for his
+present purpose. In the year 18—, Dr. J. purchased a somewhat large
+quantity from Messrs. M. He now begs them to search with most sedulous
+care, and should any of the same quality be left, forward it to him at
+once. Expense is no consideration. The importance of this to Dr. J. can
+hardly be exaggerated.” So far the letter had run composedly enough,
+but here with a sudden splutter of the pen, the writer’s emotion had
+broken loose. “For God’s sake,” he added, “find me some of the old.”
+
+“This is a strange note,” said Mr. Utterson; and then sharply, “How do
+you come to have it open?”
+
+“The man at Maw’s was main angry, sir, and he threw it back to me like
+so much dirt,” returned Poole.
+
+“This is unquestionably the doctor’s hand, do you know?” resumed the
+lawyer.
+
+“I thought it looked like it,” said the servant rather sulkily; and
+then, with another voice, “But what matters hand of write?” he said.
+“I’ve seen him!”
+
+“Seen him?” repeated Mr. Utterson. “Well?”
+
+“That’s it!” said Poole. “It was this way. I came suddenly into the
+theatre from the garden. It seems he had slipped out to look for this
+drug or whatever it is; for the cabinet door was open, and there he was
+at the far end of the room digging among the crates. He looked up when
+I came in, gave a kind of cry, and whipped upstairs into the cabinet.
+It was but for one minute that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my
+head like quills. Sir, if that was my master, why had he a mask upon
+his face? If it was my master, why did he cry out like a rat, and run
+from me? I have served him long enough. And then...” The man paused and
+passed his hand over his face.
+
+“These are all very strange circumstances,” said Mr. Utterson, “but I
+think I begin to see daylight. Your master, Poole, is plainly seized
+with one of those maladies that both torture and deform the sufferer;
+hence, for aught I know, the alteration of his voice; hence the mask
+and the avoidance of his friends; hence his eagerness to find this
+drug, by means of which the poor soul retains some hope of ultimate
+recovery—God grant that he be not deceived! There is my explanation; it
+is sad enough, Poole, ay, and appalling to consider; but it is plain
+and natural, hangs well together, and delivers us from all exorbitant
+alarms.”
+
+“Sir,” said the butler, turning to a sort of mottled pallor, “that
+thing was not my master, and there’s the truth. My master”—here he
+looked round him and began to whisper—“is a tall, fine build of a man,
+and this was more of a dwarf.” Utterson attempted to protest. “O, sir,”
+cried Poole, “do you think I do not know my master after twenty years?
+Do you think I do not know where his head comes to in the cabinet door,
+where I saw him every morning of my life? No, sir, that thing in the
+mask was never Dr. Jekyll—God knows what it was, but it was never Dr.
+Jekyll; and it is the belief of my heart that there was murder done.”
+
+“Poole,” replied the lawyer, “if you say that, it will become my duty
+to make certain. Much as I desire to spare your master’s feelings, much
+as I am puzzled by this note which seems to prove him to be still
+alive, I shall consider it my duty to break in that door.”
+
+“Ah, Mr. Utterson, that’s talking!” cried the butler.
+
+“And now comes the second question,” resumed Utterson: “Who is going to
+do it?”
+
+“Why, you and me, sir,” was the undaunted reply.
+
+“That’s very well said,” returned the lawyer; “and whatever comes of
+it, I shall make it my business to see you are no loser.”
+
+“There is an axe in the theatre,” continued Poole; “and you might take
+the kitchen poker for yourself.”
+
+The lawyer took that rude but weighty instrument into his hand, and
+balanced it. “Do you know, Poole,” he said, looking up, “that you and I
+are about to place ourselves in a position of some peril?”
+
+“You may say so, sir, indeed,” returned the butler.
+
+“It is well, then that we should be frank,” said the other. “We both
+think more than we have said; let us make a clean breast. This masked
+figure that you saw, did you recognise it?”
+
+“Well, sir, it went so quick, and the creature was so doubled up, that
+I could hardly swear to that,” was the answer. “But if you mean, was it
+Mr. Hyde?—why, yes, I think it was! You see, it was much of the same
+bigness; and it had the same quick, light way with it; and then who
+else could have got in by the laboratory door? You have not forgot,
+sir, that at the time of the murder he had still the key with him? But
+that’s not all. I don’t know, Mr. Utterson, if you ever met this Mr.
+Hyde?”
+
+“Yes,” said the lawyer, “I once spoke with him.”
+
+“Then you must know as well as the rest of us that there was something
+queer about that gentleman—something that gave a man a turn—I don’t
+know rightly how to say it, sir, beyond this: that you felt in your
+marrow kind of cold and thin.”
+
+“I own I felt something of what you describe,” said Mr. Utterson.
+
+“Quite so, sir,” returned Poole. “Well, when that masked thing like a
+monkey jumped from among the chemicals and whipped into the cabinet, it
+went down my spine like ice. O, I know it’s not evidence, Mr. Utterson;
+I’m book-learned enough for that; but a man has his feelings, and I
+give you my bible-word it was Mr. Hyde!”
+
+“Ay, ay,” said the lawyer. “My fears incline to the same point. Evil, I
+fear, founded—evil was sure to come—of that connection. Ay truly, I
+believe you; I believe poor Harry is killed; and I believe his murderer
+(for what purpose, God alone can tell) is still lurking in his victim’s
+room. Well, let our name be vengeance. Call Bradshaw.”
+
+The footman came at the summons, very white and nervous.
+
+“Pull yourself together, Bradshaw,” said the lawyer. “This suspense, I
+know, is telling upon all of you; but it is now our intention to make
+an end of it. Poole, here, and I are going to force our way into the
+cabinet. If all is well, my shoulders are broad enough to bear the
+blame. Meanwhile, lest anything should really be amiss, or any
+malefactor seek to escape by the back, you and the boy must go round
+the corner with a pair of good sticks and take your post at the
+laboratory door. We give you ten minutes to get to your stations.”
+
+As Bradshaw left, the lawyer looked at his watch. “And now, Poole, let
+us get to ours,” he said; and taking the poker under his arm, led the
+way into the yard. The scud had banked over the moon, and it was now
+quite dark. The wind, which only broke in puffs and draughts into that
+deep well of building, tossed the light of the candle to and fro about
+their steps, until they came into the shelter of the theatre, where
+they sat down silently to wait. London hummed solemnly all around; but
+nearer at hand, the stillness was only broken by the sounds of a
+footfall moving to and fro along the cabinet floor.
+
+“So it will walk all day, sir,” whispered Poole; “ay, and the better
+part of the night. Only when a new sample comes from the chemist,
+there’s a bit of a break. Ah, it’s an ill conscience that’s such an
+enemy to rest! Ah, sir, there’s blood foully shed in every step of it!
+But hark again, a little closer—put your heart in your ears, Mr.
+Utterson, and tell me, is that the doctor’s foot?”
+
+The steps fell lightly and oddly, with a certain swing, for all they
+went so slowly; it was different indeed from the heavy creaking tread
+of Henry Jekyll. Utterson sighed. “Is there never anything else?” he
+asked.
+
+Poole nodded. “Once,” he said. “Once I heard it weeping!”
+
+“Weeping? how that?” said the lawyer, conscious of a sudden chill of
+horror.
+
+“Weeping like a woman or a lost soul,” said the butler. “I came away
+with that upon my heart, that I could have wept too.”
+
+But now the ten minutes drew to an end. Poole disinterred the axe from
+under a stack of packing straw; the candle was set upon the nearest
+table to light them to the attack; and they drew near with bated breath
+to where that patient foot was still going up and down, up and down, in
+the quiet of the night.
+
+“Jekyll,” cried Utterson, with a loud voice, “I demand to see you.” He
+paused a moment, but there came no reply. “I give you fair warning, our
+suspicions are aroused, and I must and shall see you,” he resumed; “if
+not by fair means, then by foul—if not of your consent, then by brute
+force!”
+
+“Utterson,” said the voice, “for God’s sake, have mercy!”
+
+“Ah, that’s not Jekyll’s voice—it’s Hyde’s!” cried Utterson. “Down with
+the door, Poole!”
+
+Poole swung the axe over his shoulder; the blow shook the building, and
+the red baize door leaped against the lock and hinges. A dismal
+screech, as of mere animal terror, rang from the cabinet. Up went the
+axe again, and again the panels crashed and the frame bounded; four
+times the blow fell; but the wood was tough and the fittings were of
+excellent workmanship; and it was not until the fifth, that the lock
+burst and the wreck of the door fell inwards on the carpet.
+
+The besiegers, appalled by their own riot and the stillness that had
+succeeded, stood back a little and peered in. There lay the cabinet
+before their eyes in the quiet lamplight, a good fire glowing and
+chattering on the hearth, the kettle singing its thin strain, a drawer
+or two open, papers neatly set forth on the business table, and nearer
+the fire, the things laid out for tea; the quietest room, you would
+have said, and, but for the glazed presses full of chemicals, the most
+commonplace that night in London.
+
+Right in the middle there lay the body of a man sorely contorted and
+still twitching. They drew near on tiptoe, turned it on its back and
+beheld the face of Edward Hyde. He was dressed in clothes far too large
+for him, clothes of the doctor’s bigness; the cords of his face still
+moved with a semblance of life, but life was quite gone; and by the
+crushed phial in the hand and the strong smell of kernels that hung
+upon the air, Utterson knew that he was looking on the body of a
+self-destroyer.
+
+“We have come too late,” he said sternly, “whether to save or punish.
+Hyde is gone to his account; and it only remains for us to find the
+body of your master.”
+
+The far greater proportion of the building was occupied by the theatre,
+which filled almost the whole ground storey and was lighted from above,
+and by the cabinet, which formed an upper storey at one end and looked
+upon the court. A corridor joined the theatre to the door on the
+by-street; and with this the cabinet communicated separately by a
+second flight of stairs. There were besides a few dark closets and a
+spacious cellar. All these they now thoroughly examined. Each closet
+needed but a glance, for all were empty, and all, by the dust that fell
+from their doors, had stood long unopened. The cellar, indeed, was
+filled with crazy lumber, mostly dating from the times of the surgeon
+who was Jekyll’s predecessor; but even as they opened the door they
+were advertised of the uselessness of further search, by the fall of a
+perfect mat of cobweb which had for years sealed up the entrance.
+Nowhere was there any trace of Henry Jekyll, dead or alive.
+
+Poole stamped on the flags of the corridor. “He must be buried here,”
+he said, hearkening to the sound.
+
+“Or he may have fled,” said Utterson, and he turned to examine the door
+in the by-street. It was locked; and lying near by on the flags, they
+found the key, already stained with rust.
+
+“This does not look like use,” observed the lawyer.
+
+“Use!” echoed Poole. “Do you not see, sir, it is broken? much as if a
+man had stamped on it.”
+
+“Ay,” continued Utterson, “and the fractures, too, are rusty.” The two
+men looked at each other with a scare. “This is beyond me, Poole,” said
+the lawyer. “Let us go back to the cabinet.”
+
+They mounted the stair in silence, and still with an occasional
+awestruck glance at the dead body, proceeded more thoroughly to examine
+the contents of the cabinet. At one table, there were traces of
+chemical work, various measured heaps of some white salt being laid on
+glass saucers, as though for an experiment in which the unhappy man had
+been prevented.
+
+“That is the same drug that I was always bringing him,” said Poole; and
+even as he spoke, the kettle with a startling noise boiled over.
+
+This brought them to the fireside, where the easy-chair was drawn
+cosily up, and the tea things stood ready to the sitter’s elbow, the
+very sugar in the cup. There were several books on a shelf; one lay
+beside the tea things open, and Utterson was amazed to find it a copy
+of a pious work, for which Jekyll had several times expressed a great
+esteem, annotated, in his own hand with startling blasphemies.
+
+Next, in the course of their review of the chamber, the searchers came
+to the cheval-glass, into whose depths they looked with an involuntary
+horror. But it was so turned as to show them nothing but the rosy glow
+playing on the roof, the fire sparkling in a hundred repetitions along
+the glazed front of the presses, and their own pale and fearful
+countenances stooping to look in.
+
+“This glass has seen some strange things, sir,” whispered Poole.
+
+“And surely none stranger than itself,” echoed the lawyer in the same
+tones. “For what did Jekyll”—he caught himself up at the word with a
+start, and then conquering the weakness—“what could Jekyll want with
+it?” he said.
+
+“You may say that!” said Poole.
+
+Next they turned to the business table. On the desk, among the neat
+array of papers, a large envelope was uppermost, and bore, in the
+doctor’s hand, the name of Mr. Utterson. The lawyer unsealed it, and
+several enclosures fell to the floor. The first was a will, drawn in
+the same eccentric terms as the one which he had returned six months
+before, to serve as a testament in case of death and as a deed of gift
+in case of disappearance; but in place of the name of Edward Hyde, the
+lawyer, with indescribable amazement read the name of Gabriel John
+Utterson. He looked at Poole, and then back at the paper, and last of
+all at the dead malefactor stretched upon the carpet.
+
+“My head goes round,” he said. “He has been all these days in
+possession; he had no cause to like me; he must have raged to see
+himself displaced; and he has not destroyed this document.”
+
+He caught up the next paper; it was a brief note in the doctor’s hand
+and dated at the top. “O Poole!” the lawyer cried, “he was alive and
+here this day. He cannot have been disposed of in so short a space; he
+must be still alive, he must have fled! And then, why fled? and how?
+and in that case, can we venture to declare this suicide? O, we must be
+careful. I foresee that we may yet involve your master in some dire
+catastrophe.”
+
+“Why don’t you read it, sir?” asked Poole.
+
+“Because I fear,” replied the lawyer solemnly. “God grant I have no
+cause for it!” And with that he brought the paper to his eyes and read
+as follows:
+
+
+“My dear Utterson,—When this shall fall into your hands, I shall have
+disappeared, under what circumstances I have not the penetration to
+foresee, but my instinct and all the circumstances of my nameless
+situation tell me that the end is sure and must be early. Go then, and
+first read the narrative which Lanyon warned me he was to place in your
+hands; and if you care to hear more, turn to the confession of
+
+“Your unworthy and unhappy friend,
+
+“HENRY JEKYLL.”
+
+
+“There was a third enclosure?” asked Utterson.
+
+“Here, sir,” said Poole, and gave into his hands a considerable packet
+sealed in several places.
+
+The lawyer put it in his pocket. “I would say nothing of this paper. If
+your master has fled or is dead, we may at least save his credit. It is
+now ten; I must go home and read these documents in quiet; but I shall
+be back before midnight, when we shall send for the police.”
+
+They went out, locking the door of the theatre behind them; and
+Utterson, once more leaving the servants gathered about the fire in the
+hall, trudged back to his office to read the two narratives in which
+this mystery was now to be explained.
+
+
+
+DR. LANYON’S NARRATIVE
+
+On the ninth of January, now four days ago, I received by the evening
+delivery a registered envelope, addressed in the hand of my colleague
+and old school companion, Henry Jekyll. I was a good deal surprised by
+this; for we were by no means in the habit of correspondence; I had
+seen the man, dined with him, indeed, the night before; and I could
+imagine nothing in our intercourse that should justify formality of
+registration. The contents increased my wonder; for this is how the
+letter ran:
+
+“10_th December_, 18—.
+
+
+“Dear Lanyon,—You are one of my oldest friends; and although we may
+have differed at times on scientific questions, I cannot remember, at
+least on my side, any break in our affection. There was never a day
+when, if you had said to me, ‘Jekyll, my life, my honour, my reason,
+depend upon you,’ I would not have sacrificed my left hand to help you.
+Lanyon, my life, my honour, my reason, are all at your mercy; if you
+fail me to-night, I am lost. You might suppose, after this preface,
+that I am going to ask you for something dishonourable to grant. Judge
+for yourself.
+
+“I want you to postpone all other engagements for to-night—ay, even if
+you were summoned to the bedside of an emperor; to take a cab, unless
+your carriage should be actually at the door; and with this letter in
+your hand for consultation, to drive straight to my house. Poole, my
+butler, has his orders; you will find him waiting your arrival with a
+locksmith. The door of my cabinet is then to be forced; and you are to
+go in alone; to open the glazed press (letter E) on the left hand,
+breaking the lock if it be shut; and to draw out, _with all its
+contents as they stand_, the fourth drawer from the top or (which is
+the same thing) the third from the bottom. In my extreme distress of
+mind, I have a morbid fear of misdirecting you; but even if I am in
+error, you may know the right drawer by its contents: some powders, a
+phial and a paper book. This drawer I beg of you to carry back with you
+to Cavendish Square exactly as it stands.
+
+“That is the first part of the service: now for the second. You should
+be back, if you set out at once on the receipt of this, long before
+midnight; but I will leave you that amount of margin, not only in the
+fear of one of those obstacles that can neither be prevented nor
+foreseen, but because an hour when your servants are in bed is to be
+preferred for what will then remain to do. At midnight, then, I have to
+ask you to be alone in your consulting room, to admit with your own
+hand into the house a man who will present himself in my name, and to
+place in his hands the drawer that you will have brought with you from
+my cabinet. Then you will have played your part and earned my gratitude
+completely. Five minutes afterwards, if you insist upon an explanation,
+you will have understood that these arrangements are of capital
+importance; and that by the neglect of one of them, fantastic as they
+must appear, you might have charged your conscience with my death or
+the shipwreck of my reason.
+
+“Confident as I am that you will not trifle with this appeal, my heart
+sinks and my hand trembles at the bare thought of such a possibility.
+Think of me at this hour, in a strange place, labouring under a
+blackness of distress that no fancy can exaggerate, and yet well aware
+that, if you will but punctually serve me, my troubles will roll away
+like a story that is told. Serve me, my dear Lanyon and save
+
+“Your friend,
+
+
+“H.J.
+
+
+“P.S.—I had already sealed this up when a fresh terror struck upon my
+soul. It is possible that the post-office may fail me, and this letter
+not come into your hands until to-morrow morning. In that case, dear
+Lanyon, do my errand when it shall be most convenient for you in the
+course of the day; and once more expect my messenger at midnight. It
+may then already be too late; and if that night passes without event,
+you will know that you have seen the last of Henry Jekyll.”
+
+
+Upon the reading of this letter, I made sure my colleague was insane;
+but till that was proved beyond the possibility of doubt, I felt bound
+to do as he requested. The less I understood of this farrago, the less
+I was in a position to judge of its importance; and an appeal so worded
+could not be set aside without a grave responsibility. I rose
+accordingly from table, got into a hansom, and drove straight to
+Jekyll’s house. The butler was awaiting my arrival; he had received by
+the same post as mine a registered letter of instruction, and had sent
+at once for a locksmith and a carpenter. The tradesmen came while we
+were yet speaking; and we moved in a body to old Dr. Denman’s surgical
+theatre, from which (as you are doubtless aware) Jekyll’s private
+cabinet is most conveniently entered. The door was very strong, the
+lock excellent; the carpenter avowed he would have great trouble and
+have to do much damage, if force were to be used; and the locksmith was
+near despair. But this last was a handy fellow, and after two hour’s
+work, the door stood open. The press marked E was unlocked; and I took
+out the drawer, had it filled up with straw and tied in a sheet, and
+returned with it to Cavendish Square.
+
+Here I proceeded to examine its contents. The powders were neatly
+enough made up, but not with the nicety of the dispensing chemist; so
+that it was plain they were of Jekyll’s private manufacture; and when I
+opened one of the wrappers I found what seemed to me a simple
+crystalline salt of a white colour. The phial, to which I next turned
+my attention, might have been about half full of a blood-red liquor,
+which was highly pungent to the sense of smell and seemed to me to
+contain phosphorus and some volatile ether. At the other ingredients I
+could make no guess. The book was an ordinary version book and
+contained little but a series of dates. These covered a period of many
+years, but I observed that the entries ceased nearly a year ago and
+quite abruptly. Here and there a brief remark was appended to a date,
+usually no more than a single word: “double” occurring perhaps six
+times in a total of several hundred entries; and once very early in the
+list and followed by several marks of exclamation, “total failure!!!”
+All this, though it whetted my curiosity, told me little that was
+definite. Here were a phial of some salt, and the record of a series of
+experiments that had led (like too many of Jekyll’s investigations) to
+no end of practical usefulness. How could the presence of these
+articles in my house affect either the honour, the sanity, or the life
+of my flighty colleague? If his messenger could go to one place, why
+could he not go to another? And even granting some impediment, why was
+this gentleman to be received by me in secret? The more I reflected the
+more convinced I grew that I was dealing with a case of cerebral
+disease; and though I dismissed my servants to bed, I loaded an old
+revolver, that I might be found in some posture of self-defence.
+
+Twelve o’clock had scarce rung out over London, ere the knocker sounded
+very gently on the door. I went myself at the summons, and found a
+small man crouching against the pillars of the portico.
+
+“Are you come from Dr. Jekyll?” I asked.
+
+He told me “yes” by a constrained gesture; and when I had bidden him
+enter, he did not obey me without a searching backward glance into the
+darkness of the square. There was a policeman not far off, advancing
+with his bull’s eye open; and at the sight, I thought my visitor
+started and made greater haste.
+
+These particulars struck me, I confess, disagreeably; and as I followed
+him into the bright light of the consulting room, I kept my hand ready
+on my weapon. Here, at last, I had a chance of clearly seeing him. I
+had never set eyes on him before, so much was certain. He was small, as
+I have said; I was struck besides with the shocking expression of his
+face, with his remarkable combination of great muscular activity and
+great apparent debility of constitution, and—last but not least—with
+the odd, subjective disturbance caused by his neighbourhood. This bore
+some resemblance to incipient rigour, and was accompanied by a marked
+sinking of the pulse. At the time, I set it down to some idiosyncratic,
+personal distaste, and merely wondered at the acuteness of the
+symptoms; but I have since had reason to believe the cause to lie much
+deeper in the nature of man, and to turn on some nobler hinge than the
+principle of hatred.
+
+This person (who had thus, from the first moment of his entrance,
+struck in me what I can only describe as a disgustful curiosity) was
+dressed in a fashion that would have made an ordinary person laughable;
+his clothes, that is to say, although they were of rich and sober
+fabric, were enormously too large for him in every measurement—the
+trousers hanging on his legs and rolled up to keep them from the
+ground, the waist of the coat below his haunches, and the collar
+sprawling wide upon his shoulders. Strange to relate, this ludicrous
+accoutrement was far from moving me to laughter. Rather, as there was
+something abnormal and misbegotten in the very essence of the creature
+that now faced me—something seizing, surprising and revolting—this
+fresh disparity seemed but to fit in with and to reinforce it; so that
+to my interest in the man’s nature and character, there was added a
+curiosity as to his origin, his life, his fortune and status in the
+world.
+
+These observations, though they have taken so great a space to be set
+down in, were yet the work of a few seconds. My visitor was, indeed, on
+fire with sombre excitement.
+
+“Have you got it?” he cried. “Have you got it?” And so lively was his
+impatience that he even laid his hand upon my arm and sought to shake
+me.
+
+I put him back, conscious at his touch of a certain icy pang along my
+blood. “Come, sir,” said I. “You forget that I have not yet the
+pleasure of your acquaintance. Be seated, if you please.” And I showed
+him an example, and sat down myself in my customary seat and with as
+fair an imitation of my ordinary manner to a patient, as the lateness
+of the hour, the nature of my preoccupations, and the horror I had of
+my visitor, would suffer me to muster.
+
+“I beg your pardon, Dr. Lanyon,” he replied civilly enough. “What you
+say is very well founded; and my impatience has shown its heels to my
+politeness. I come here at the instance of your colleague, Dr. Henry
+Jekyll, on a piece of business of some moment; and I understood...” He
+paused and put his hand to his throat, and I could see, in spite of his
+collected manner, that he was wrestling against the approaches of the
+hysteria—“I understood, a drawer...”
+
+But here I took pity on my visitor’s suspense, and some perhaps on my
+own growing curiosity.
+
+“There it is, sir,” said I, pointing to the drawer, where it lay on the
+floor behind a table and still covered with the sheet.
+
+He sprang to it, and then paused, and laid his hand upon his heart; I
+could hear his teeth grate with the convulsive action of his jaws; and
+his face was so ghastly to see that I grew alarmed both for his life
+and reason.
+
+“Compose yourself,” said I.
+
+He turned a dreadful smile to me, and as if with the decision of
+despair, plucked away the sheet. At sight of the contents, he uttered
+one loud sob of such immense relief that I sat petrified. And the next
+moment, in a voice that was already fairly well under control, “Have
+you a graduated glass?” he asked.
+
+I rose from my place with something of an effort and gave him what he
+asked.
+
+He thanked me with a smiling nod, measured out a few minims of the red
+tincture and added one of the powders. The mixture, which was at first
+of a reddish hue, began, in proportion as the crystals melted, to
+brighten in colour, to effervesce audibly, and to throw off small fumes
+of vapour. Suddenly and at the same moment, the ebullition ceased and
+the compound changed to a dark purple, which faded again more slowly to
+a watery green. My visitor, who had watched these metamorphoses with a
+keen eye, smiled, set down the glass upon the table, and then turned
+and looked upon me with an air of scrutiny.
+
+“And now,” said he, “to settle what remains. Will you be wise? will you
+be guided? will you suffer me to take this glass in my hand and to go
+forth from your house without further parley? or has the greed of
+curiosity too much command of you? Think before you answer, for it
+shall be done as you decide. As you decide, you shall be left as you
+were before, and neither richer nor wiser, unless the sense of service
+rendered to a man in mortal distress may be counted as a kind of riches
+of the soul. Or, if you shall so prefer to choose, a new province of
+knowledge and new avenues to fame and power shall be laid open to you,
+here, in this room, upon the instant; and your sight shall be blasted
+by a prodigy to stagger the unbelief of Satan.”
+
+“Sir,” said I, affecting a coolness that I was far from truly
+possessing, “you speak enigmas, and you will perhaps not wonder that I
+hear you with no very strong impression of belief. But I have gone too
+far in the way of inexplicable services to pause before I see the end.”
+
+“It is well,” replied my visitor. “Lanyon, you remember your vows: what
+follows is under the seal of our profession. And now, you who have so
+long been bound to the most narrow and material views, you who have
+denied the virtue of transcendental medicine, you who have derided your
+superiors—behold!”
+
+He put the glass to his lips and drank at one gulp. A cry followed; he
+reeled, staggered, clutched at the table and held on, staring with
+injected eyes, gasping with open mouth; and as I looked there came, I
+thought, a change—he seemed to swell—his face became suddenly black and
+the features seemed to melt and alter—and the next moment, I had sprung
+to my feet and leaped back against the wall, my arms raised to shield
+me from that prodigy, my mind submerged in terror.
+
+“O God!” I screamed, and “O God!” again and again; for there before my
+eyes—pale and shaken, and half fainting, and groping before him with
+his hands, like a man restored from death—there stood Henry Jekyll!
+
+What he told me in the next hour, I cannot bring my mind to set on
+paper. I saw what I saw, I heard what I heard, and my soul sickened at
+it; and yet now when that sight has faded from my eyes, I ask myself if
+I believe it, and I cannot answer. My life is shaken to its roots;
+sleep has left me; the deadliest terror sits by me at all hours of the
+day and night; and I feel that my days are numbered, and that I must
+die; and yet I shall die incredulous. As for the moral turpitude that
+man unveiled to me, even with tears of penitence, I cannot, even in
+memory, dwell on it without a start of horror. I will say but one
+thing, Utterson, and that (if you can bring your mind to credit it)
+will be more than enough. The creature who crept into my house that
+night was, on Jekyll’s own confession, known by the name of Hyde and
+hunted for in every corner of the land as the murderer of Carew.
+
+HASTIE LANYON.
+
+
+
+
+HENRY JEKYLL’S FULL STATEMENT OF THE CASE
+
+I was born in the year 18— to a large fortune, endowed besides with
+excellent parts, inclined by nature to industry, fond of the respect of
+the wise and good among my fellowmen, and thus, as might have been
+supposed, with every guarantee of an honourable and distinguished
+future. And indeed the worst of my faults was a certain impatient
+gaiety of disposition, such as has made the happiness of many, but such
+as I found it hard to reconcile with my imperious desire to carry my
+head high, and wear a more than commonly grave countenance before the
+public. Hence it came about that I concealed my pleasures; and that
+when I reached years of reflection, and began to look round me and take
+stock of my progress and position in the world, I stood already
+committed to a profound duplicity of life. Many a man would have even
+blazoned such irregularities as I was guilty of; but from the high
+views that I had set before me, I regarded and hid them with an almost
+morbid sense of shame. It was thus rather the exacting nature of my
+aspirations than any particular degradation in my faults, that made me
+what I was, and, with even a deeper trench than in the majority of men,
+severed in me those provinces of good and ill which divide and compound
+man’s dual nature. In this case, I was driven to reflect deeply and
+inveterately on that hard law of life, which lies at the root of
+religion and is one of the most plentiful springs of distress. Though
+so profound a double-dealer, I was in no sense a hypocrite; both sides
+of me were in dead earnest; I was no more myself when I laid aside
+restraint and plunged in shame, than when I laboured, in the eye of
+day, at the furtherance of knowledge or the relief of sorrow and
+suffering. And it chanced that the direction of my scientific studies,
+which led wholly towards the mystic and the transcendental, reacted and
+shed a strong light on this consciousness of the perennial war among my
+members. With every day, and from both sides of my intelligence, the
+moral and the intellectual, I thus drew steadily nearer to that truth,
+by whose partial discovery I have been doomed to such a dreadful
+shipwreck: that man is not truly one, but truly two. I say two, because
+the state of my own knowledge does not pass beyond that point. Others
+will follow, others will outstrip me on the same lines; and I hazard
+the guess that man will be ultimately known for a mere polity of
+multifarious, incongruous and independent denizens. I, for my part,
+from the nature of my life, advanced infallibly in one direction and in
+one direction only. It was on the moral side, and in my own person,
+that I learned to recognise the thorough and primitive duality of man;
+I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my
+consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was
+only because I was radically both; and from an early date, even before
+the course of my scientific discoveries had begun to suggest the most
+naked possibility of such a miracle, I had learned to dwell with
+pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation of
+these elements. If each, I told myself, could be housed in separate
+identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable; the
+unjust might go his way, delivered from the aspirations and remorse of
+his more upright twin; and the just could walk steadfastly and securely
+on his upward path, doing the good things in which he found his
+pleasure, and no longer exposed to disgrace and penitence by the hands
+of this extraneous evil. It was the curse of mankind that these
+incongruous faggots were thus bound together—that in the agonised womb
+of consciousness, these polar twins should be continuously struggling.
+How, then were they dissociated?
+
+I was so far in my reflections when, as I have said, a side light began
+to shine upon the subject from the laboratory table. I began to
+perceive more deeply than it has ever yet been stated, the trembling
+immateriality, the mistlike transience, of this seemingly so solid body
+in which we walk attired. Certain agents I found to have the power to
+shake and pluck back that fleshly vestment, even as a wind might toss
+the curtains of a pavilion. For two good reasons, I will not enter
+deeply into this scientific branch of my confession. First, because I
+have been made to learn that the doom and burthen of our life is bound
+for ever on man’s shoulders, and when the attempt is made to cast it
+off, it but returns upon us with more unfamiliar and more awful
+pressure. Second, because, as my narrative will make, alas! too
+evident, my discoveries were incomplete. Enough then, that I not only
+recognised my natural body from the mere aura and effulgence of certain
+of the powers that made up my spirit, but managed to compound a drug by
+which these powers should be dethroned from their supremacy, and a
+second form and countenance substituted, none the less natural to me
+because they were the expression, and bore the stamp of lower elements
+in my soul.
+
+I hesitated long before I put this theory to the test of practice. I
+knew well that I risked death; for any drug that so potently controlled
+and shook the very fortress of identity, might, by the least scruple of
+an overdose or at the least inopportunity in the moment of exhibition,
+utterly blot out that immaterial tabernacle which I looked to it to
+change. But the temptation of a discovery so singular and profound at
+last overcame the suggestions of alarm. I had long since prepared my
+tincture; I purchased at once, from a firm of wholesale chemists, a
+large quantity of a particular salt which I knew, from my experiments,
+to be the last ingredient required; and late one accursed night, I
+compounded the elements, watched them boil and smoke together in the
+glass, and when the ebullition had subsided, with a strong glow of
+courage, drank off the potion.
+
+The most racking pangs succeeded: a grinding in the bones, deadly
+nausea, and a horror of the spirit that cannot be exceeded at the hour
+of birth or death. Then these agonies began swiftly to subside, and I
+came to myself as if out of a great sickness. There was something
+strange in my sensations, something indescribably new and, from its
+very novelty, incredibly sweet. I felt younger, lighter, happier in
+body; within I was conscious of a heady recklessness, a current of
+disordered sensual images running like a millrace in my fancy, a
+solution of the bonds of obligation, an unknown but not an innocent
+freedom of the soul. I knew myself, at the first breath of this new
+life, to be more wicked, tenfold more wicked, sold a slave to my
+original evil; and the thought, in that moment, braced and delighted me
+like wine. I stretched out my hands, exulting in the freshness of these
+sensations; and in the act, I was suddenly aware that I had lost in
+stature.
+
+There was no mirror, at that date, in my room; that which stands beside
+me as I write, was brought there later on and for the very purpose of
+these transformations. The night however, was far gone into the
+morning—the morning, black as it was, was nearly ripe for the
+conception of the day—the inmates of my house were locked in the most
+rigorous hours of slumber; and I determined, flushed as I was with hope
+and triumph, to venture in my new shape as far as to my bedroom. I
+crossed the yard, wherein the constellations looked down upon me, I
+could have thought, with wonder, the first creature of that sort that
+their unsleeping vigilance had yet disclosed to them; I stole through
+the corridors, a stranger in my own house; and coming to my room, I saw
+for the first time the appearance of Edward Hyde.
+
+I must here speak by theory alone, saying not that which I know, but
+that which I suppose to be most probable. The evil side of my nature,
+to which I had now transferred the stamping efficacy, was less robust
+and less developed than the good which I had just deposed. Again, in
+the course of my life, which had been, after all, nine tenths a life of
+effort, virtue and control, it had been much less exercised and much
+less exhausted. And hence, as I think, it came about that Edward Hyde
+was so much smaller, slighter and younger than Henry Jekyll. Even as
+good shone upon the countenance of the one, evil was written broadly
+and plainly on the face of the other. Evil besides (which I must still
+believe to be the lethal side of man) had left on that body an imprint
+of deformity and decay. And yet when I looked upon that ugly idol in
+the glass, I was conscious of no repugnance, rather of a leap of
+welcome. This, too, was myself. It seemed natural and human. In my eyes
+it bore a livelier image of the spirit, it seemed more express and
+single, than the imperfect and divided countenance I had been hitherto
+accustomed to call mine. And in so far I was doubtless right. I have
+observed that when I wore the semblance of Edward Hyde, none could come
+near to me at first without a visible misgiving of the flesh. This, as
+I take it, was because all human beings, as we meet them, are
+commingled out of good and evil: and Edward Hyde, alone in the ranks of
+mankind, was pure evil.
+
+I lingered but a moment at the mirror: the second and conclusive
+experiment had yet to be attempted; it yet remained to be seen if I had
+lost my identity beyond redemption and must flee before daylight from a
+house that was no longer mine; and hurrying back to my cabinet, I once
+more prepared and drank the cup, once more suffered the pangs of
+dissolution, and came to myself once more with the character, the
+stature and the face of Henry Jekyll.
+
+That night I had come to the fatal cross-roads. Had I approached my
+discovery in a more noble spirit, had I risked the experiment while
+under the empire of generous or pious aspirations, all must have been
+otherwise, and from these agonies of death and birth, I had come forth
+an angel instead of a fiend. The drug had no discriminating action; it
+was neither diabolical nor divine; it but shook the doors of the
+prisonhouse of my disposition; and like the captives of Philippi, that
+which stood within ran forth. At that time my virtue slumbered; my
+evil, kept awake by ambition, was alert and swift to seize the
+occasion; and the thing that was projected was Edward Hyde. Hence,
+although I had now two characters as well as two appearances, one was
+wholly evil, and the other was still the old Henry Jekyll, that
+incongruous compound of whose reformation and improvement I had already
+learned to despair. The movement was thus wholly toward the worse.
+
+Even at that time, I had not conquered my aversions to the dryness of a
+life of study. I would still be merrily disposed at times; and as my
+pleasures were (to say the least) undignified, and I was not only well
+known and highly considered, but growing towards the elderly man, this
+incoherency of my life was daily growing more unwelcome. It was on this
+side that my new power tempted me until I fell in slavery. I had but to
+drink the cup, to doff at once the body of the noted professor, and to
+assume, like a thick cloak, that of Edward Hyde. I smiled at the
+notion; it seemed to me at the time to be humourous; and I made my
+preparations with the most studious care. I took and furnished that
+house in Soho, to which Hyde was tracked by the police; and engaged as
+a housekeeper a creature whom I knew well to be silent and
+unscrupulous. On the other side, I announced to my servants that a Mr.
+Hyde (whom I described) was to have full liberty and power about my
+house in the square; and to parry mishaps, I even called and made
+myself a familiar object, in my second character. I next drew up that
+will to which you so much objected; so that if anything befell me in
+the person of Dr. Jekyll, I could enter on that of Edward Hyde without
+pecuniary loss. And thus fortified, as I supposed, on every side, I
+began to profit by the strange immunities of my position.
+
+Men have before hired bravos to transact their crimes, while their own
+person and reputation sat under shelter. I was the first that ever did
+so for his pleasures. I was the first that could plod in the public eye
+with a load of genial respectability, and in a moment, like a
+schoolboy, strip off these lendings and spring headlong into the sea of
+liberty. But for me, in my impenetrable mantle, the safety was
+complete. Think of it—I did not even exist! Let me but escape into my
+laboratory door, give me but a second or two to mix and swallow the
+draught that I had always standing ready; and whatever he had done,
+Edward Hyde would pass away like the stain of breath upon a mirror; and
+there in his stead, quietly at home, trimming the midnight lamp in his
+study, a man who could afford to laugh at suspicion, would be Henry
+Jekyll.
+
+The pleasures which I made haste to seek in my disguise were, as I have
+said, undignified; I would scarce use a harder term. But in the hands
+of Edward Hyde, they soon began to turn toward the monstrous. When I
+would come back from these excursions, I was often plunged into a kind
+of wonder at my vicarious depravity. This familiar that I called out of
+my own soul, and sent forth alone to do his good pleasure, was a being
+inherently malign and villainous; his every act and thought centered on
+self; drinking pleasure with bestial avidity from any degree of torture
+to another; relentless like a man of stone. Henry Jekyll stood at times
+aghast before the acts of Edward Hyde; but the situation was apart from
+ordinary laws, and insidiously relaxed the grasp of conscience. It was
+Hyde, after all, and Hyde alone, that was guilty. Jekyll was no worse;
+he woke again to his good qualities seemingly unimpaired; he would even
+make haste, where it was possible, to undo the evil done by Hyde. And
+thus his conscience slumbered.
+
+Into the details of the infamy at which I thus connived (for even now I
+can scarce grant that I committed it) I have no design of entering; I
+mean but to point out the warnings and the successive steps with which
+my chastisement approached. I met with one accident which, as it
+brought on no consequence, I shall no more than mention. An act of
+cruelty to a child aroused against me the anger of a passer-by, whom I
+recognised the other day in the person of your kinsman; the doctor and
+the child’s family joined him; there were moments when I feared for my
+life; and at last, in order to pacify their too just resentment, Edward
+Hyde had to bring them to the door, and pay them in a cheque drawn in
+the name of Henry Jekyll. But this danger was easily eliminated from
+the future, by opening an account at another bank in the name of Edward
+Hyde himself; and when, by sloping my own hand backward, I had supplied
+my double with a signature, I thought I sat beyond the reach of fate.
+
+Some two months before the murder of Sir Danvers, I had been out for
+one of my adventures, had returned at a late hour, and woke the next
+day in bed with somewhat odd sensations. It was in vain I looked about
+me; in vain I saw the decent furniture and tall proportions of my room
+in the square; in vain that I recognised the pattern of the bed
+curtains and the design of the mahogany frame; something still kept
+insisting that I was not where I was, that I had not wakened where I
+seemed to be, but in the little room in Soho where I was accustomed to
+sleep in the body of Edward Hyde. I smiled to myself, and in my
+psychological way, began lazily to inquire into the elements of this
+illusion, occasionally, even as I did so, dropping back into a
+comfortable morning doze. I was still so engaged when, in one of my
+more wakeful moments, my eyes fell upon my hand. Now the hand of Henry
+Jekyll (as you have often remarked) was professional in shape and size;
+it was large, firm, white and comely. But the hand which I now saw,
+clearly enough, in the yellow light of a mid-London morning, lying half
+shut on the bedclothes, was lean, corded, knuckly, of a dusky pallor
+and thickly shaded with a swart growth of hair. It was the hand of
+Edward Hyde.
+
+I must have stared upon it for near half a minute, sunk as I was in the
+mere stupidity of wonder, before terror woke up in my breast as sudden
+and startling as the crash of cymbals; and bounding from my bed I
+rushed to the mirror. At the sight that met my eyes, my blood was
+changed into something exquisitely thin and icy. Yes, I had gone to bed
+Henry Jekyll, I had awakened Edward Hyde. How was this to be explained?
+I asked myself; and then, with another bound of terror—how was it to be
+remedied? It was well on in the morning; the servants were up; all my
+drugs were in the cabinet—a long journey down two pairs of stairs,
+through the back passage, across the open court and through the
+anatomical theatre, from where I was then standing horror-struck. It
+might indeed be possible to cover my face; but of what use was that,
+when I was unable to conceal the alteration in my stature? And then
+with an overpowering sweetness of relief, it came back upon my mind
+that the servants were already used to the coming and going of my
+second self. I had soon dressed, as well as I was able, in clothes of
+my own size: had soon passed through the house, where Bradshaw stared
+and drew back at seeing Mr. Hyde at such an hour and in such a strange
+array; and ten minutes later, Dr. Jekyll had returned to his own shape
+and was sitting down, with a darkened brow, to make a feint of
+breakfasting.
+
+Small indeed was my appetite. This inexplicable incident, this reversal
+of my previous experience, seemed, like the Babylonian finger on the
+wall, to be spelling out the letters of my judgment; and I began to
+reflect more seriously than ever before on the issues and possibilities
+of my double existence. That part of me which I had the power of
+projecting, had lately been much exercised and nourished; it had seemed
+to me of late as though the body of Edward Hyde had grown in stature,
+as though (when I wore that form) I were conscious of a more generous
+tide of blood; and I began to spy a danger that, if this were much
+prolonged, the balance of my nature might be permanently overthrown,
+the power of voluntary change be forfeited, and the character of Edward
+Hyde become irrevocably mine. The power of the drug had not been always
+equally displayed. Once, very early in my career, it had totally failed
+me; since then I had been obliged on more than one occasion to double,
+and once, with infinite risk of death, to treble the amount; and these
+rare uncertainties had cast hitherto the sole shadow on my contentment.
+Now, however, and in the light of that morning’s accident, I was led to
+remark that whereas, in the beginning, the difficulty had been to throw
+off the body of Jekyll, it had of late gradually but decidedly
+transferred itself to the other side. All things therefore seemed to
+point to this; that I was slowly losing hold of my original and better
+self, and becoming slowly incorporated with my second and worse.
+
+Between these two, I now felt I had to choose. My two natures had
+memory in common, but all other faculties were most unequally shared
+between them. Jekyll (who was composite) now with the most sensitive
+apprehensions, now with a greedy gusto, projected and shared in the
+pleasures and adventures of Hyde; but Hyde was indifferent to Jekyll,
+or but remembered him as the mountain bandit remembers the cavern in
+which he conceals himself from pursuit. Jekyll had more than a father’s
+interest; Hyde had more than a son’s indifference. To cast in my lot
+with Jekyll, was to die to those appetites which I had long secretly
+indulged and had of late begun to pamper. To cast it in with Hyde, was
+to die to a thousand interests and aspirations, and to become, at a
+blow and forever, despised and friendless. The bargain might appear
+unequal; but there was still another consideration in the scales; for
+while Jekyll would suffer smartingly in the fires of abstinence, Hyde
+would be not even conscious of all that he had lost. Strange as my
+circumstances were, the terms of this debate are as old and commonplace
+as man; much the same inducements and alarms cast the die for any
+tempted and trembling sinner; and it fell out with me, as it falls with
+so vast a majority of my fellows, that I chose the better part and was
+found wanting in the strength to keep to it.
+
+Yes, I preferred the elderly and discontented doctor, surrounded by
+friends and cherishing honest hopes; and bade a resolute farewell to
+the liberty, the comparative youth, the light step, leaping impulses
+and secret pleasures, that I had enjoyed in the disguise of Hyde. I
+made this choice perhaps with some unconscious reservation, for I
+neither gave up the house in Soho, nor destroyed the clothes of Edward
+Hyde, which still lay ready in my cabinet. For two months, however, I
+was true to my determination; for two months, I led a life of such
+severity as I had never before attained to, and enjoyed the
+compensations of an approving conscience. But time began at last to
+obliterate the freshness of my alarm; the praises of conscience began
+to grow into a thing of course; I began to be tortured with throes and
+longings, as of Hyde struggling after freedom; and at last, in an hour
+of moral weakness, I once again compounded and swallowed the
+transforming draught.
+
+I do not suppose that, when a drunkard reasons with himself upon his
+vice, he is once out of five hundred times affected by the dangers that
+he runs through his brutish, physical insensibility; neither had I,
+long as I had considered my position, made enough allowance for the
+complete moral insensibility and insensate readiness to evil, which
+were the leading characters of Edward Hyde. Yet it was by these that I
+was punished. My devil had been long caged, he came out roaring. I was
+conscious, even when I took the draught, of a more unbridled, a more
+furious propensity to ill. It must have been this, I suppose, that
+stirred in my soul that tempest of impatience with which I listened to
+the civilities of my unhappy victim; I declare, at least, before God,
+no man morally sane could have been guilty of that crime upon so
+pitiful a provocation; and that I struck in no more reasonable spirit
+than that in which a sick child may break a plaything. But I had
+voluntarily stripped myself of all those balancing instincts by which
+even the worst of us continues to walk with some degree of steadiness
+among temptations; and in my case, to be tempted, however slightly, was
+to fall.
+
+Instantly the spirit of hell awoke in me and raged. With a transport of
+glee, I mauled the unresisting body, tasting delight from every blow;
+and it was not till weariness had begun to succeed, that I was
+suddenly, in the top fit of my delirium, struck through the heart by a
+cold thrill of terror. A mist dispersed; I saw my life to be forfeit;
+and fled from the scene of these excesses, at once glorying and
+trembling, my lust of evil gratified and stimulated, my love of life
+screwed to the topmost peg. I ran to the house in Soho, and (to make
+assurance doubly sure) destroyed my papers; thence I set out through
+the lamplit streets, in the same divided ecstasy of mind, gloating on
+my crime, light-headedly devising others in the future, and yet still
+hastening and still hearkening in my wake for the steps of the avenger.
+Hyde had a song upon his lips as he compounded the draught, and as he
+drank it, pledged the dead man. The pangs of transformation had not
+done tearing him, before Henry Jekyll, with streaming tears of
+gratitude and remorse, had fallen upon his knees and lifted his clasped
+hands to God. The veil of self-indulgence was rent from head to foot. I
+saw my life as a whole: I followed it up from the days of childhood,
+when I had walked with my father’s hand, and through the self-denying
+toils of my professional life, to arrive again and again, with the same
+sense of unreality, at the damned horrors of the evening. I could have
+screamed aloud; I sought with tears and prayers to smother down the
+crowd of hideous images and sounds with which my memory swarmed against
+me; and still, between the petitions, the ugly face of my iniquity
+stared into my soul. As the acuteness of this remorse began to die
+away, it was succeeded by a sense of joy. The problem of my conduct was
+solved. Hyde was thenceforth impossible; whether I would or not, I was
+now confined to the better part of my existence; and O, how I rejoiced
+to think of it! with what willing humility I embraced anew the
+restrictions of natural life! with what sincere renunciation I locked
+the door by which I had so often gone and come, and ground the key
+under my heel!
+
+The next day, came the news that the murder had not been overlooked,
+that the guilt of Hyde was patent to the world, and that the victim was
+a man high in public estimation. It was not only a crime, it had been a
+tragic folly. I think I was glad to know it; I think I was glad to have
+my better impulses thus buttressed and guarded by the terrors of the
+scaffold. Jekyll was now my city of refuge; let but Hyde peep out an
+instant, and the hands of all men would be raised to take and slay him.
+
+I resolved in my future conduct to redeem the past; and I can say with
+honesty that my resolve was fruitful of some good. You know yourself
+how earnestly, in the last months of the last year, I laboured to
+relieve suffering; you know that much was done for others, and that the
+days passed quietly, almost happily for myself. Nor can I truly say
+that I wearied of this beneficent and innocent life; I think instead
+that I daily enjoyed it more completely; but I was still cursed with my
+duality of purpose; and as the first edge of my penitence wore off, the
+lower side of me, so long indulged, so recently chained down, began to
+growl for licence. Not that I dreamed of resuscitating Hyde; the bare
+idea of that would startle me to frenzy: no, it was in my own person
+that I was once more tempted to trifle with my conscience; and it was
+as an ordinary secret sinner that I at last fell before the assaults of
+temptation.
+
+There comes an end to all things; the most capacious measure is filled
+at last; and this brief condescension to my evil finally destroyed the
+balance of my soul. And yet I was not alarmed; the fall seemed natural,
+like a return to the old days before I had made my discovery. It was a
+fine, clear, January day, wet under foot where the frost had melted,
+but cloudless overhead; and the Regent’s Park was full of winter
+chirrupings and sweet with spring odours. I sat in the sun on a bench;
+the animal within me licking the chops of memory; the spiritual side a
+little drowsed, promising subsequent penitence, but not yet moved to
+begin. After all, I reflected, I was like my neighbours; and then I
+smiled, comparing myself with other men, comparing my active good-will
+with the lazy cruelty of their neglect. And at the very moment of that
+vainglorious thought, a qualm came over me, a horrid nausea and the
+most deadly shuddering. These passed away, and left me faint; and then
+as in its turn faintness subsided, I began to be aware of a change in
+the temper of my thoughts, a greater boldness, a contempt of danger, a
+solution of the bonds of obligation. I looked down; my clothes hung
+formlessly on my shrunken limbs; the hand that lay on my knee was
+corded and hairy. I was once more Edward Hyde. A moment before I had
+been safe of all men’s respect, wealthy, beloved—the cloth laying for
+me in the dining-room at home; and now I was the common quarry of
+mankind, hunted, houseless, a known murderer, thrall to the gallows.
+
+My reason wavered, but it did not fail me utterly. I have more than
+once observed that in my second character, my faculties seemed
+sharpened to a point and my spirits more tensely elastic; thus it came
+about that, where Jekyll perhaps might have succumbed, Hyde rose to the
+importance of the moment. My drugs were in one of the presses of my
+cabinet; how was I to reach them? That was the problem that (crushing
+my temples in my hands) I set myself to solve. The laboratory door I
+had closed. If I sought to enter by the house, my own servants would
+consign me to the gallows. I saw I must employ another hand, and
+thought of Lanyon. How was he to be reached? how persuaded? Supposing
+that I escaped capture in the streets, how was I to make my way into
+his presence? and how should I, an unknown and displeasing visitor,
+prevail on the famous physician to rifle the study of his colleague,
+Dr. Jekyll? Then I remembered that of my original character, one part
+remained to me: I could write my own hand; and once I had conceived
+that kindling spark, the way that I must follow became lighted up from
+end to end.
+
+Thereupon, I arranged my clothes as best I could, and summoning a
+passing hansom, drove to an hotel in Portland Street, the name of which
+I chanced to remember. At my appearance (which was indeed comical
+enough, however tragic a fate these garments covered) the driver could
+not conceal his mirth. I gnashed my teeth upon him with a gust of
+devilish fury; and the smile withered from his face—happily for him—yet
+more happily for myself, for in another instant I had certainly dragged
+him from his perch. At the inn, as I entered, I looked about me with so
+black a countenance as made the attendants tremble; not a look did they
+exchange in my presence; but obsequiously took my orders, led me to a
+private room, and brought me wherewithal to write. Hyde in danger of
+his life was a creature new to me; shaken with inordinate anger, strung
+to the pitch of murder, lusting to inflict pain. Yet the creature was
+astute; mastered his fury with a great effort of the will; composed his
+two important letters, one to Lanyon and one to Poole; and that he
+might receive actual evidence of their being posted, sent them out with
+directions that they should be registered. Thenceforward, he sat all
+day over the fire in the private room, gnawing his nails; there he
+dined, sitting alone with his fears, the waiter visibly quailing before
+his eye; and thence, when the night was fully come, he set forth in the
+corner of a closed cab, and was driven to and fro about the streets of
+the city. He, I say—I cannot say, I. That child of Hell had nothing
+human; nothing lived in him but fear and hatred. And when at last,
+thinking the driver had begun to grow suspicious, he discharged the cab
+and ventured on foot, attired in his misfitting clothes, an object
+marked out for observation, into the midst of the nocturnal passengers,
+these two base passions raged within him like a tempest. He walked
+fast, hunted by his fears, chattering to himself, skulking through the
+less frequented thoroughfares, counting the minutes that still divided
+him from midnight. Once a woman spoke to him, offering, I think, a box
+of lights. He smote her in the face, and she fled.
+
+When I came to myself at Lanyon’s, the horror of my old friend perhaps
+affected me somewhat: I do not know; it was at least but a drop in the
+sea to the abhorrence with which I looked back upon these hours. A
+change had come over me. It was no longer the fear of the gallows, it
+was the horror of being Hyde that racked me. I received Lanyon’s
+condemnation partly in a dream; it was partly in a dream that I came
+home to my own house and got into bed. I slept after the prostration of
+the day, with a stringent and profound slumber which not even the
+nightmares that wrung me could avail to break. I awoke in the morning
+shaken, weakened, but refreshed. I still hated and feared the thought
+of the brute that slept within me, and I had not of course forgotten
+the appalling dangers of the day before; but I was once more at home,
+in my own house and close to my drugs; and gratitude for my escape
+shone so strong in my soul that it almost rivalled the brightness of
+hope.
+
+I was stepping leisurely across the court after breakfast, drinking the
+chill of the air with pleasure, when I was seized again with those
+indescribable sensations that heralded the change; and I had but the
+time to gain the shelter of my cabinet, before I was once again raging
+and freezing with the passions of Hyde. It took on this occasion a
+double dose to recall me to myself; and alas! six hours after, as I sat
+looking sadly in the fire, the pangs returned, and the drug had to be
+re-administered. In short, from that day forth it seemed only by a
+great effort as of gymnastics, and only under the immediate stimulation
+of the drug, that I was able to wear the countenance of Jekyll. At all
+hours of the day and night, I would be taken with the premonitory
+shudder; above all, if I slept, or even dozed for a moment in my chair,
+it was always as Hyde that I awakened. Under the strain of this
+continually impending doom and by the sleeplessness to which I now
+condemned myself, ay, even beyond what I had thought possible to man, I
+became, in my own person, a creature eaten up and emptied by fever,
+languidly weak both in body and mind, and solely occupied by one
+thought: the horror of my other self. But when I slept, or when the
+virtue of the medicine wore off, I would leap almost without transition
+(for the pangs of transformation grew daily less marked) into the
+possession of a fancy brimming with images of terror, a soul boiling
+with causeless hatreds, and a body that seemed not strong enough to
+contain the raging energies of life. The powers of Hyde seemed to have
+grown with the sickliness of Jekyll. And certainly the hate that now
+divided them was equal on each side. With Jekyll, it was a thing of
+vital instinct. He had now seen the full deformity of that creature
+that shared with him some of the phenomena of consciousness, and was
+co-heir with him to death: and beyond these links of community, which
+in themselves made the most poignant part of his distress, he thought
+of Hyde, for all his energy of life, as of something not only hellish
+but inorganic. This was the shocking thing; that the slime of the pit
+seemed to utter cries and voices; that the amorphous dust gesticulated
+and sinned; that what was dead, and had no shape, should usurp the
+offices of life. And this again, that that insurgent horror was knit to
+him closer than a wife, closer than an eye; lay caged in his flesh,
+where he heard it mutter and felt it struggle to be born; and at every
+hour of weakness, and in the confidence of slumber, prevailed against
+him, and deposed him out of life. The hatred of Hyde for Jekyll was of
+a different order. His terror of the gallows drove him continually to
+commit temporary suicide, and return to his subordinate station of a
+part instead of a person; but he loathed the necessity, he loathed the
+despondency into which Jekyll was now fallen, and he resented the
+dislike with which he was himself regarded. Hence the ape-like tricks
+that he would play me, scrawling in my own hand blasphemies on the
+pages of my books, burning the letters and destroying the portrait of
+my father; and indeed, had it not been for his fear of death, he would
+long ago have ruined himself in order to involve me in the ruin. But
+his love of life is wonderful; I go further: I, who sicken and freeze at
+the mere thought of him, when I recall the abjection and passion of
+this attachment, and when I know how he fears my power to cut him off
+by suicide, I find it in my heart to pity him.
+
+It is useless, and the time awfully fails me, to prolong this
+description; no one has ever suffered such torments, let that suffice;
+and yet even to these, habit brought—no, not alleviation—but a certain
+callousness of soul, a certain acquiescence of despair; and my
+punishment might have gone on for years, but for the last calamity
+which has now fallen, and which has finally severed me from my own face
+and nature. My provision of the salt, which had never been renewed
+since the date of the first experiment, began to run low. I sent out
+for a fresh supply and mixed the draught; the ebullition followed, and
+the first change of colour, not the second; I drank it and it was
+without efficiency. You will learn from Poole how I have had London
+ransacked; it was in vain; and I am now persuaded that my first supply
+was impure, and that it was that unknown impurity which lent efficacy
+to the draught.
+
+About a week has passed, and I am now finishing this statement under
+the influence of the last of the old powders. This, then, is the last
+time, short of a miracle, that Henry Jekyll can think his own thoughts
+or see his own face (now how sadly altered!) in the glass. Nor must I
+delay too long to bring my writing to an end; for if my narrative has
+hitherto escaped destruction, it has been by a combination of great
+prudence and great good luck. Should the throes of change take me in
+the act of writing it, Hyde will tear it in pieces; but if some time
+shall have elapsed after I have laid it by, his wonderful selfishness
+and circumscription to the moment will probably save it once again from
+the action of his ape-like spite. And indeed the doom that is closing
+on us both has already changed and crushed him. Half an hour from now,
+when I shall again and forever reindue that hated personality, I know
+how I shall sit shuddering and weeping in my chair, or continue, with
+the most strained and fearstruck ecstasy of listening, to pace up and
+down this room (my last earthly refuge) and give ear to every sound of
+menace. Will Hyde die upon the scaffold? or will he find courage to
+release himself at the last moment? God knows; I am careless; this is
+my true hour of death, and what is to follow concerns another than
+myself. Here then, as I lay down the pen and proceed to seal up my
+confession, I bring the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to an end.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE ***
+
+
+    
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will
+be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
+law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
+so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
+States without permission and without paying copyright
+royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
+of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
+Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™
+concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
+and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
+the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
+of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
+copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
+easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
+of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
+Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may
+do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
+by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
+license, especially commercial redistribution.
+
+
+START: FULL LICENSE
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
+Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at
+www.gutenberg.org/license.
+
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™
+electronic works
+
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
+destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your
+possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
+Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
+by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
+or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this
+agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™
+electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the
+Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
+of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual
+works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
+States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
+United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
+claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
+displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
+all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
+that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting
+free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™
+works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
+Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily
+comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
+same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when
+you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
+in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
+check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
+agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
+distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
+other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no
+representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
+country other than the United States.
+
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
+immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear
+prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work
+on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the
+phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed,
+performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
+
+    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+    other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+    whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+    of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+    at www.gutenberg.org. If you
+    are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
+    of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
+  
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is
+derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
+contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
+copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
+the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
+redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project
+Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
+either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
+obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™
+trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
+additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
+will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works
+posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
+beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.
+
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg™ License.
+
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
+any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
+to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format
+other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official
+version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website
+(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
+to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
+of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain
+Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the
+full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
+provided that:
+
+    • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+        the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method
+        you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
+        to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has
+        agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
+        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
+        within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
+        legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
+        payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
+        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
+        Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
+        Literary Archive Foundation.”
+    
+    • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+        you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+        does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™
+        License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
+        copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
+        all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™
+        works.
+    
+    • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
+        any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+        electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
+        receipt of the work.
+    
+    • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+        distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.
+    
+
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
+Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than
+are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
+from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
+the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
+forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
+Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™
+electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
+contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
+or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
+other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
+cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right
+of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
+with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
+with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
+lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
+or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
+opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
+the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
+without further opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO
+OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
+damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
+violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
+agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
+limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
+unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
+remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in
+accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
+production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™
+electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
+including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
+the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
+or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or
+additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any
+Defect you cause.
+
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™
+
+Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
+computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
+exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
+from people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future
+generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
+Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.
+
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
+U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.
+
+The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
+Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
+to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website
+and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
+public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
+DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
+visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
+donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.
+
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
+Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be
+freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
+distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of
+volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
+the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
+necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
+edition.
+
+Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
+facility: www.gutenberg.org.
+
+This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+

xxh3digest.mod/tests/test.bmx

@@ -0,0 +1,56 @@
+SuperStrict
+
+Framework brl.standardio
+Import crypto.xxh3digest
+Import BRL.MaxUnit
+
+New TTestSuite.run()
+
+Type TXXH3DigestTest Extends TTest
+
+	Method testGetMessageDigest() { test }
+		Local digest:TMessageDigest = GetMessageDigest("XXH3")
+		AssertNotNull(digest)
+		AssertNotNull(TXXH3Digest(digest))
+	End Method
+
+	Method testStringDigest() { test }
+		Local digest:TXXH3Digest = New TXXH3Digest
+
+		Local result:ULong
+		digest.Digest("Hello, World!", result)
+
+		AssertEquals($a3b37b0560760792:ULong, result)
+
+		Local hello:String = "Hello, "
+		Local world:String = "World!"
+
+		digest.Digest(hello + world, result)
+
+		AssertEquals($a3b37b0560760792:ULong, result)
+	End Method
+
+	Method testByteArray() { test }
+		Local digest:TXXH3Digest = New TXXH3Digest
+
+		Local data:Byte[] = LoadByteArray( "story.txt" )
+
+		digest.Update(data, data.Length)
+
+		Local result:ULong
+		digest.Finish(result)
+
+		AssertEquals($5dfa86a4afb8e7d1:ULong, result)
+
+	End Method
+
+	Method testStreamDigest() { test }
+		Local digest:TXXH3Digest = New TXXH3Digest
+
+		Local result:ULong
+		Local stream:TStream = ReadStream("story.txt")
+		digest.Digest(stream, result)
+
+		AssertEquals($5dfa86a4afb8e7d1:ULong, result)
+	End Method
+End Type

xxh3digest.mod/xxh3digest.bmx

@@ -0,0 +1,131 @@
+' 
+' Copyright (c) 2024 Bruce A Henderson
+' 
+' Redistribution and use in source and binary forms, with or without
+' modification, are permitted provided that the following conditions are met:
+' 
+' 1. Redistributions of source code must retain the above copyright notice, this
+'    list of conditions and the following disclaimer.
+' 
+' 2. Redistributions in binary form must reproduce the above copyright notice,
+'    this list of conditions and the following disclaimer in the documentation
+'    and/or other materials provided with the distribution.
+' 
+' THIS SOFTWARE IS PROVIDED BY THE COPYRIGHT HOLDERS AND CONTRIBUTORS "AS IS"
+' AND ANY EXPRESS OR IMPLIED WARRANTIES, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, THE
+' IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE ARE
+' DISCLAIMED. IN NO EVENT SHALL THE COPYRIGHT HOLDER OR CONTRIBUTORS BE LIABLE
+' FOR ANY DIRECT, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL, SPECIAL, EXEMPLARY, OR CONSEQUENTIAL
+' DAMAGES (INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO, PROCUREMENT OF SUBSTITUTE GOODS OR
+' SERVICES; LOSS OF USE, DATA, OR PROFITS; OR BUSINESS INTERRUPTION) HOWEVER
+' CAUSED AND ON ANY THEORY OF LIABILITY, WHETHER IN CONTRACT, STRICT LIABILITY,
+' OR TORT (INCLUDING NEGLIGENCE OR OTHERWISE) ARISING IN ANY WAY OUT OF THE USE
+' OF THIS SOFTWARE, EVEN IF ADVISED OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.
+' 
+SuperStrict
+
+Rem
+bbdoc: A digest implementation for the XXH3 64-bit hash algorithm.
+about: The XXH3 hash algorithm is a fast, non-cryptographic hash algorithm.
+End Rem
+Module Crypto.XXH3Digest
+
+Import "common.bmx"
+
+New TXXH3DigestRegister
+
+Rem
+bbdoc: A digest implementation for the XXH3 hash algorithm.
+End Rem
+Type TXXH3Digest Extends TMessageDigest
+
+	Method New()
+		digestPtr = bmx_digest_xxh3_init()
+	End Method
+
+	Method OutBytes:Int() Override
+		Return 8
+	End Method
+
+	Rem
+	bbdoc: Resets the calculation to its initial state.
+	about: This is useful if you want to reuse the same instance for multiple calculations.
+	End Rem
+	Method Reset()
+		bmx_digest_xxh3_reset(digestPtr)
+	End Method
+
+	Rem
+	bbdoc: Updates the calculation with @dataLen bytes of data.
+	End Rem
+	Method Update:Int(data:Byte Ptr, dataLen:Int) Override
+		bmx_digest_xxh3_update(digestPtr, data, dataLen)
+	End Method
+
+	Rem
+	bbdoc: Calculates the XXH3 hash for the given #String, setting the value in @result.
+	End Rem
+	Method Digest(txt:String, result:ULong Var)
+		result = txt.Hash() ' we already have a hash function for strings which uses XXH3
+	End Method
+
+	Rem
+	bbdoc: Calculates the XXH3 hash for the given #TStream, setting the value in @result.
+	End Rem
+	Method Digest(stream:TStream, result:ULong Var)
+		Local buf:Byte[8192]
+
+		Reset() ' always reset before calculating a new hash
+		
+		Local bytesRead:Long
+		Repeat
+			bytesRead = stream.Read(buf, buf.length)
+			If bytesRead > 0 Then
+				Update(buf, Int(bytesRead))
+			End If
+		Until bytesRead <= 0
+
+		If Not bytesRead Then
+			Finish(result)
+		End If
+	End Method
+
+	Rem
+	bbdoc: Finishes calculation and produces the result, filling @result with the calculated bytes.
+	about: The state is reset, ready to create a new calculation.
+	End Rem
+	Method Finish:Int(result:Byte[]) Override
+		Assert result.length >= 8, "Byte array must be at least 8 bytes."
+		bmx_digest_xxh3_finish(digestPtr, result, 8)
+	End Method
+	
+	Rem
+	bbdoc: Finishes calculation and produces the result, setting @result with the result.
+	about: The state is reset, ready to create a new calculation.
+	End Rem
+	Method Finish:Int(result:ULong Var)
+		bmx_digest_xxh3_finish_ulong(digestPtr, result)
+	End Method
+
+	Method Delete()
+		If digestPtr Then
+			bmx_digest_xxh3_free(digestPtr)
+			digestPtr = Null
+		End If
+	End Method
+
+End Type
+
+Type TXXH3DigestRegister Extends TDigestRegister
+
+	Method GetDigest:TMessageDigest( name:String ) Override
+		If name.ToUpper() = "XXH3" Then
+			Return New TXXH3Digest
+		End If
+	End Method
+
+	Method ToString:String() Override
+		Return "XXH3"
+	End Method
+
+End Type