That evening, Jekyll sat in the living room with Jaule and Mozart. Neither had any time for pleasantries and thus the happy-go-luckiness of the parlour room was entirely avoided. Jaule was quiet and reflective while Mozart was melancholy and shocked. The latter was not certain was to make of this visit. The former was quite used to it all by now. Poole waited by the door, awkwardly, before taking a seat on the otherwise empty couch. Jekyll, Jaule, and Mozart all sat in armchairs.
"I feel miserable." Admitted Mozart, finally.
"I am... deeply sorry." Apologized Jekyll, feeling strange.
Mozart flinched at the helplessness in his voice. "I wish that we could all agree on something."
"I will go and see Father tomorrow evening." Announced Jekyll.
Mozart didn't even look hopeful. "He is very ill, you know. You need to be... very calm and... quiet. No arguments of any nature."
"Yes, I know." Jekyll blushed, embarrassed at the thought of having to be reminded in such a manner.
Jaule grunted, taking up a glass of wine and sipping it. "Blessed Mother's poor heart in heaven. She would be much grieved to see us all like this. Separated. Miserable. Some of us very much alone."
"I am not alone." Reassured Jekyll, almost emptily. He had Poole certainly, but his other relationships, including the ones with his other servants, had been very strained.
"I do not believe that at all." Laughed Jaule, a touch of impatience in his voice.
Mozart sighed, unhappily. The comment did nothing but distress him. "I just want everything to be the way that it was a few years ago. It seems like it has been ages since we were all happy."
"You all have seemed happy enough to me." Jekyll's ignorance disturbed them both.
Jaule scoffed. "Happy? Really? What with Father being dreadfully ill, Gene in seclusion, and Mozart having given up on life? Do you not listen at all, Jekyll? We are all miserable because of you."
Mozart was quiet, then, "I would not say it like that... I just... You see..." He looked up at Jekyll, his blue eyes staring into his. "We are brothers. We have always been close. But you... you have fallen into disarray." He looked away, unable to meet Jekyll's hard gaze any more.
The doctor was always prepared to deny that he had any problems what-so-ever, but, at this moment, he felt too ashamed to keep lying. "I will see Father tomorrow and then I will see Gene next Sunday. As it is, I can not keep taking off work, and, as you know, I do not attend church any more."
Mozart nodded, solemnly. He seemed resigned to his brother's madness. "I hope that it is a good visit." He said, hopelessly.
"With Father or with Gene?" Asked Jekyll, curiously.
"With both of them." Answered Mozart, simply, his eyes glistening with tears.
Poole studied Mozart carefully, his eyes not leaving his weeping face as a tear slid down his cheek.
Utterson appeared that night on Jekyll's doorstep. Poole opened the door.
"Utterson!" He gasped. It was raining outside.
"Let me in!" Cried Utterson, excitedly. "Richard came to me and told me something of great importance!"
Poole simply stared at the soaked man for a moment. "Did you not use a coach?"
"There was an accident of some sort in the square." Utterson explained, quickly. "The coach could not manoeuvre around it. So I practically ran the rest of the way here."
"Ran?" Questioned Poole, dubiously.
"Yes, ran." Grumbled Utterson, then he pushed past Poole. "Now let me in out of this cold!"
Poole flattened himself against the wall of the entrance hall and allowed Utterson to walk inside. The butler followed after him.
"What is going on?" He asked, his voice intense.
"You will never believe it." Said Utterson, hurrying through the hall.
"I do not understand." Poole was distressed. What if it was bad news? "What ever could have happened to cause you to run all the way here?"
"I did not run, Poole!" Exclaimed Utterson. "I only ran from the square. It is not that long a ways off."
"But Utterson...!" Poole was cut off by a servant trying to take Utterson's drenched coat.
"If you would allow me, Sir." He said, glancing at Poole. "Poole has lost his manners as of late." The man took the coat and carried it to the rack on the wall, placing it on one of the wooden hooks. "You will find that the Master's brothers, Jaule and Mozart, are here. They are both in the living room with the doctor."
"Yes, yes." Utterson was not interested, then, suddenly, as if awareness had just hit him, "Jaule and Mozart? I see! It is good that they are here then! They need to know as well! Jekyll is useless to me without them!"
Utterson was nothing short of a bull, walking at a brisk, reckless pace through the house until he finally burst into the living room. Jekyll was sitting in the same armchair, looking down at the floor with a gloomy, chastised expression while Jaule continued to lecture him on and on about his health, with Mozart watching quietly in the corner.
"Lanyon is alive!" He announced, carelessly.
All three of the men looked at him in amazement. Poole stared at his back from behind, losing his footing and just catching himself before colliding into the wall.
"That is impossible." Spit Jekyll, heatedly. "Do not talk such foolishness in my house." He growled.
The men had gathered around each other in the living room. Poole was looking pale, Jaule was incredulous, Mozart was confused, Utterson was more persistent than a dog, and Jekyll was more furious than hell.
"It is true!" Claimed Utterson. "For I have seen him myself with my own eyes!"
"I do not believe you." Jekyll leaned forward, intimidatingly.
Jaule gave Utterson a bewildered look. "Have you gone mad?"
Mozart nearly fainted, Poole managing to catch his arm. The butler helped him into an armchair.
"I do not think that any of us need this mad talk, Utterson." Urged Poole, frantically. His temper was beginning to rise.
"Richard came to me while I was at work in my study, and informed me of the whole situation!" Utterson threw up his arms, dramatically. "I have been to Lanyon's house. It is true! By God, it is true!"
Jekyll flinched with emotion. "I do not see how this is possible."
"It is a gift from the heavens!" Exclaimed Utterson, passionately. "Lanyon has been delivered back to us!"
Mozart began to cry and it was not clear why, Jaule's brows knit in a fury of confusion, and Poole held onto Mozart for dear life.
"Are you referring to a ghost?" Questioned Poole, feeling like the man had lost his mind in his grief.
"Of course not!" Utterson began to lose his own temper. "The man is as real as that quack over there!"
Jekyll huffed in indignation. Jaule laughed, amused.
"Oh God!" Mozart cried out. "I can not take this talk! I can not take this! Lanyon is dead! Lanyon is dead! Leave it at that!"
"Come with me." Begged Utterson. "Jaule, Mozart. Both of you. Jekyll, you too. You can leave this house if it is only to come see Lanyon. Poole. You accompany Jekyll. I do not want him coming alone. Lanyon despises him, you know he does, and I know that the very first thing the two of them will do is go at one another's throats. I need an extra man to help us keep them from killing each other."
Poole nodded, surprised at himself. He did not believe one word of it, but at the same time he didn't know how else to appease what he saw as Utterson's madness. Mozart clung to Poole, devastated that Utterson should claim that Lanyon was still alive, and a fresh wave of grief was flooding over the poor man. Jaule was beginning to realize how much that Utterson's claims were hurting his younger brother.
"Utterson..." Began Jaule, sternly. "There better be some good reason that you are claiming such nonsense."
"Oh, do not tell me that you believe it! Jaule!" Mozart was horrified at the very thought of it.
"Certainly not." Reassured Jaule, in the same voice. "I just want to make sure that this barbaric notion has some kind of logical explanation."
"There can be no logical explanation for it!" Exclaimed Mozart, deeply pained. "The man has gone mad! It is grief!"
"Mozart..." Jaule trailed off, helplessly. "Let me check out Utterson's story, and you and Jekyll stay here. I do not wish to further distress you, Mozart, and, Jekyll... you are simply too ill to bother yourself with this."
"No." Said Jekyll, firmly. "I am coming. Let Mozart stay behind. I want to see this for myself."
Jaule gaped at his brother's determined form, and then resigned himself to Jekyll's resolve. "Fine." He said, at last. "Then we will go together. Utterson..." He looked to the old man. "Let us be on our way and have this ridiculous journey over before the first light of day creeps over the rooftops of London."
"All right." Replied Utterson, satisfied. He looked to Mozart's crumpled form. "I am sorry. I am deeply sorry, my old friend."
"Leave me be!" Cried Mozart, turning away from the lawyer. "You are acting worse than Jekyll!"
Utterson closed his eyes, knowing very well that Jekyll had done a lot worse than claim that a dead man had risen from the grave.
The four men were gathered together in a coach, as the horses took them over the cobblestone streets in the direction of Lanyon's house. Jaule had been silent the entire time, in no mood for small talk. Poole had barely spoken a word, not knowing how. On the other hand, Utterson and Jekyll had been arguing constantly.
"I do not ever want you causing a scene like that in my house again." Complained Jekyll, furiously.
"I had to come!" Insisted Utterson, with the same passion as before. "Richard was in an absolute panic!"
"Richard is just as mad as you!" Retorted the doctor.
"We have both seen him in person!" Claimed Utterson. "We have felt his hand! We have seen his eyes! We have spoken with his physician!"
"The man was pronounced dead ages ago!" Exclaimed Jekyll.
"He is alive! I assure you! I have felt him with my own fingers! I can feel him! He has a pulse, he has speech! He simply can not walk."
"How do you explain the funeral?" Demanded Jekyll.
"There was no funeral, Jekyll." Revealed Utterson.
"I do not understand." Replied Jekyll, confused. "I thought that I was simply not invited."
"It was not like that." Admitted Utterson, ashamed of Lanyon's deep animosity for Jekyll. "You were merely kept out of the discussion of it all."
Jekyll suffered in silence, burning at the thought of what he saw as Lanyon's unfair hatred of him. Lanyon didn't truly despise him. The two merely didn't get along with a ferocity as fierce as hell and as ancient as civilization. It had all begun in Jekyll's childhood. Lanyon, an old friend of his father's, had always had a sour opinion of him. Lanyon had never felt like Jekyll deserved his reputation or all the praise that his father had always given him. To make matters worse, they both severely disagreed on fundamental matters of science.
The coach finally reached the great house, and the men exited onto the street. They walked up to the door and Utterson bravely used the large knocker to attract a servant's attention. The men waited, the door was opened by the butler, and they were lead inside.
"There better be some grain of truth to this, Utterson." Hissed Jaule, as they passed through the entrance hall. "Such as a forgotten will or a bastard son or something of the like. You better present some kind of evidence for your theories or I swear that I am going to..."
"Do not worry yourself, Jaule." Reassured Utterson, interrupting his rant. "You will see for yourself soon enough."