of Edgar Allan Poe
's true! I've always been nervous, very nervous, terribly nervous. But why will you say I'm crazy? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed not dulled them. And my ear was the sharpest of all. Heard all that can be heard on earth and in heaven. I heard many things in hell. How I can be crazy, then? Listen ... and observe how sane, how calmly tell them my story.
It is impossible to say how that idea popped into my head first, but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. I was not pursuing purpose. Nor was angry. I loved the old. I had never done anything wrong. I never insulted. Your money did not interest me. I think it was his eye. Yes, that was! He had the eye of a vulture ... A pale blue eye, a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold. So, little by little, very gradualmen-te, I made up my mind to kill the old and get rid of the eye forever.
Pay attention now. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. Instead ... If they could see me! You should have seen how wisely I proceeded! With what care ... with what foresight ... with what dissimulation I got to work! I was never kinder to the old days before killing him. Every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened ... Oh so gently! And then, when the opening was big enough for my head, stood a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so not seeing any light, and then I head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it! I moved slowly ... very, very slowly, so as not to disturb the sleep of the old. Took me an hour to place my whole head in the door opening, to see him lying on his bed. Huh? Is that a crazy person have been so wise as this? And then when my head was inside the room, opened the lantern cautiously ... Oh, so cautiously! Yes, I undid the lantern cautiously (for the hinges creaked)-I undid it just so that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights ... every night at midnight ... but found the eye always closed, and so it was impossible to do the work, because it was the old man who vexed me, but the evil eye. And in the morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how had spent the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked at him while he slept.
Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A clock's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. Thinking it was there, slowly opening the door, and he did not even dream of my secret deeds or thoughts I chuckled at the idea, and perhaps he heard me, because I felt move on the bed suddenly as if startled. You would think that I laid back ... but no. His room was as black as pitch, as the old closed the shutters for fear of thieves, I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing gently, gently.
I had my head and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb res-bleated in the shutter and the old man sprang up in bed, crying
- Who's there?
remained motionless, without a word. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in that time I did not hear him lie in bed. He was still sitting, listening ... as I have done, night after night, listening to the sound wall drills which announces the death.
I heard a slight groan, and knew it was the groan of mortal terror. Not express pain or grief ... Oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound. Many nights, fair-mind at midnight, when the world slept, it came from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at the bottom of my heart. I realized I had been awake since the first slight noise when moved in bed. He had been saying that the noise was nothing, but without success. I thought: "It's just the wind in the chimney ... or a cricket chirped once." Yes, he had tried to comfort himself with these suppositions: but all in vain. All in vain, because Death had approached him, slipping furtively, and enveloped the victim. And the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow was what caused him to feel-although he neither saw nor heard-to feel the presence of my head within the room.
Having waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a small, very little crevice in the lantern.
I did, you can not imagine how carefully, how stealthily-until a thin ray of light, like the thread of the spider, shot from the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.
was open, wide open ... and I grew furious as I gazed. I saw quite clearly, a dull blue with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow. But I could not see anything on the face or body of the old, then, as if by instinct, had directed the ray of light right into the damned spot.
Is not I have already said that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of the senses? At that time reached my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as that a watch wrapped in cotton. He also was familiar sound. It was the beating heart of the old. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.
But even yet I refrained and kept still. Barely breathing. I held the lantern so that no move, trying to keep up with all the firmness po-sible the beam on the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew faster, increasing strong, moment by moment. The old man's terror must be terrible. Increasingly strong, stronger! Do you mark me well? I told them that I am nervous. Yes I am. And now, at midnight, in the terrible silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. However, even a few minutes I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought her heart would burst. And a new anxiety seized me ... Some neighbors could hear the sound! The old time had come! With a loud yell, I opened the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once ... no more than once. It took only a second to throw it down and throw the heavy bed over. I smiled gaily, to find how easily I had been everything. But, for several minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound. Of course I was not worried, because nobody could hear through the walls. Stopped finally beating. The old man had died. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was dead, completely dead. I placed my hand on the heart and held it there many minutes. No was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would never bother.
If still you think me crazy stop doing when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head, arms and legs.
then took up three planks from the flooring of the room and hid the remains in the hole. I then replaced the boards so cleverly that no human eye-Not even his-could have detected the slightest difference. There was nothing to wash ... no stain ... no trace of blood. I was too cautious for that. Cuba had collected a all ... Ha ha!
When I finished my task was four in the morning, still dark as midnight. At a time when the bell sounded the hour, hit the front door. I went to open it with a calm, for what had I now to fear?
entered three men, who were presented with perfect suavity, as officers of polic-ed. During the night, a neighbor heard a scream, so it was suspected the possibility of any attack. Upon receiving this report in the police station, had commissioned three agents to search the premises.
smiled, then ... What had I to fear? I welcomed the official and explained that I had launched the cry for a nightmare. I let them know that the old man had been absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house and invited them search-search well. Finally, I led the chamber. I showed them his treasures intact and how everything was in place. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, with the audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of my victim.
officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced. For my part, I was perfectly comfortable. They sat and chatted of familiar things, while I answered cheerily. But after a while, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in the ears, but the police still sitting and talking. The buzzing grew louder, still resonating and became increasingly intense. I spoke loudly to get rid of that feeling, but still the same and it was becoming increasingly clear ... until, at last, I realized that the noise was not within my ears.
No doubt I get very pale, but I talked more fluently, and a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased ... And what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound ... a sound that could make a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath, and yet the officers heard nothing. I talked more quickly, strongly, but the noise steadily increased. I stood up and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations, but the noise steadily increased. Why not be gone? I walked to and fro with heavy strides, as if the observations of the men enraged me, but the noise steadily increased. O God! What could I do? I foamed with rage ... cursed ... I swore ... Swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all others and continually increased. More high ... higher ... higher! And in between, both still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Could not hear? God! No, no! They heard and they suspected! They knew ... were making a mockery of my horror! Yes, I thought so and this I think! But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! No could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die, and then ... again ... listen ... stronger ... stronger ... stronger ... stronger!
- Stop pretending, wicked! "I yelled. I confess that I killed him! , Here! There ... there! Is the beating of his hideous heart!
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