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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 .
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