The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 2 Read online

Page 20


  THE TELL-TALE HEART.

  TRUE!--nervous--very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; butwhy will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses--notdestroyed--not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. Iheard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many thingsin hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily--howcalmly I can tell you the whole story.

  It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but onceconceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passionthere was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He hadnever given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was hiseye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture--a pale blue eye,with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; andso by degrees--very gradually--I made up my mind to take the life of theold man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

  Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But youshould have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded--withwhat caution--with what foresight--with what dissimulation I went towork! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole weekbefore I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latchof his door and opened it--oh so gently! And then, when I had made anopening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed,closed, that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh,you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved itslowly--very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man'ssleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening sofar that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman havebeen so wise as this, And then, when my head was well in the room, Iundid the lantern cautiously--oh, so cautiously--cautiously (for thehinges creaked)--I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fellupon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights--every nightjust at midnight--but I found the eye always closed; and so it wasimpossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, buthis Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly intothe chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in ahearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see hewould have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that everynight, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

  Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening thedoor. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Neverbefore that night had I felt the extent of my own powers--of mysagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To thinkthat there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even todream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; andperhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled.Now you may think that I drew back--but no. His room was as black aspitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened,through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see theopening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

  I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumbslipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, cryingout--"Who's there?"

  I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move amuscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was stillsitting up in the bed listening;--just as I have done, night afternight, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

  Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortalterror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief--oh, no!--it was the lowstifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overchargedwith awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, whenall the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, withits dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well.I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled atheart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slightnoise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever sincegrowing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but couldnot. He had been saying to himself--"It is nothing but the wind in thechimney--it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or "It is merely acricket which has made a single chirp." Yes, he had been trying tocomfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain.All in vain; because Death, in approaching him had stalked with hisblack shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was themournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him tofeel--although he neither saw nor heard--to feel the presence of my headwithin the room.

  When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him liedown, I resolved to open a little--a very, very little crevice inthe lantern. So I opened it--you cannot imagine how stealthily,stealthily--until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of thespider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.

  It was open--wide, wide open--and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. Isaw it with perfect distinctness--all a dull blue, with a hideousveil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could seenothing else of the old man's face or person: for I had directed the rayas if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.

  And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is butover-acuteness of the sense?--now, I say, there came to my ears a low,dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. Iknew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. Itincreased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier intocourage.

  But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held thelantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray uponthe eve. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grewquicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man'sterror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder everymoment!--do you mark me well I have told you that I am nervous: so I am.And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence ofthat old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollableterror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. Butthe beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And nowa new anxiety seized me--the sound would be heard by a neighbour! Theold man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lanternand leaped into the room. He shrieked once--once only. In an instantI dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I thensmiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, theheart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; itwould not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old manwas 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 manyminutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye wouldtrouble me no more.

  If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describethe wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The nightwaned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismemberedthe corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.

  I then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, anddeposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards socleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye--not even his--could havedetected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out--no stain of anykind--no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub hadcaught all--ha! ha!

  When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock--still darkas midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at thestreet door. I went down to open it with a light heart,--for what hadI now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, withperfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard bya neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused;information had been lodged at the police office, and they (theofficers) had been deputed to search the premises.

  I smiled,--for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. Theshriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, wasabsent in the country. I took m
y visitors all over the house. I badethem search--search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. Ishowed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm ofmy confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them hereto rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity ofmy perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath whichreposed the corpse of the victim.

  The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I wassingularly at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, theychatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting paleand wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in myears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became moredistinct:--It continued and became more distinct: I talked morefreely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gaineddefiniteness--until, at length, I found that the noise was not within myears.

  No doubt I now grew _very_ pale;--but I talked more fluently, and with aheightened voice. Yet the sound increased--and what could I do? It wasa low, dull, quick sound--much such a sound as a watch makes whenenveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath--and yet the officers heardit not. I talked more quickly--more vehemently; but the noise steadilyincreased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and withviolent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why wouldthey not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as ifexcited to fury by the observations of the men--but the noise steadilyincreased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed--I raved--I swore! I swungthe chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon theboards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. Itgrew louder--louder--louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, andsmiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God!--no, no! Theyheard!--they suspected!--they knew!--they were making a mockery of myhorror!-this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better thanthis agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bearthose hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die!and now--again!--hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!

  "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!--tear upthe planks! here, here!--It is the beating of his hideous heart!"

 

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