Every night I turned the latch of his door and opened it oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head. I put in a dark lantern all closed, closed so that no light shone out, and then I thrust my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly, very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep.
His room was pitch black, I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in the bed, crying, "Who's there?" I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed, listening. Presently, I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or relief -- oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I held the lantern motionless. a loud beating sound that sounds like that of a heart. Yet, for some munites longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me -- the sound would be heard by the neighbor! Witha loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once -- once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But for many munites the heart beat on with a muffled sound. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. there was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.
Sukurta daugiau nei 30 milijonų siužetinių lentelių