‘Did you keep any of these written orders？’asked Mr Utterson．
Poole reached in his pocket and brought out a note．Thelawyer read it carefully．It said：‘I am returning your chemicals，as they are impure and therefore useless．In the year18-you made up a mixture of chemical powders for DoctorHenry Jekyll． Please search your cupboards for some more ofthe same mixture and send it to Doctor Jekyll AT ONCE．Thisis VERY IMPORTANT．’
‘This is a strange note，’said Mr Utterson．
‘The chemist thought so too，’ sir，’said Poole．‘When I tookhim this note，he cried，“All my chemicals are pure，and youcan tell your master so！”and he threw the note back at me．’
‘Are you sure this is your master's handwriting？’ asked MrUtterson．
‘Of course，sir，’said Poole．‘But what does handwritingmatter？ I've seen my master's murderer！’
‘Seen him？’repeated Mr Utterson．
‘Yes！It was like this．I came suddenly into the laboratoryfrom the garden．I think he had left the study to look forsomething．The study door was open and there he was at thefar end of the laboratory．He was searching among some oldboxes．He looked up when I came in， gave a kind of cry andran upstairs and into the study．I only saw him for a moment，but my blood seemed to freeze．Sir，if that was my master，why was he wearing a mask over his face？ If it was my master， why did he cry out like a trapped animal and run awayfrom me？ I've been his servant for twenty years．And then …’Poole paused，and covered his face with his hands，tooupset to speak．
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