I walked as steadily as I could back to the main house and then, for the first time in his service, I took an un-proffered drink from my master's whisky decanter, chasing it with a second until I felt the nausea recede. I stood in his drawing room, the glass in my hand, and replayed the scene in my head of his introduction. I felt a series of shudders run through me, and clutched the glass tightly to prevent dropping it, almost breaking it in the process.

Finally my palsy stilled and I was able to set the glass down and sag into a chair. I had not felt it before, but I knew that what I was feeling was despair. I had no knowledge of what this Mister Hyde was doing when he was not on the premises, but I did not need to know the details to know that it did not involve good deeds. I could not believe that someone who existed as part of the kind, considerate man who had employed me for all these years, could be so black and evil, even in his demeanour. I did not know where this tale was heading, but I already knew that it would not end well.