And now a new anxiety seized me—the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I 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.
The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.
I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye—not even his—could have detected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out—no stain of any kind—no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that.
And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses?—now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton.It was the beating of the old man's heart.
Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door.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 out—"Who's there?"