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It is impossible to tell how first the idea entered my brain; butonce conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none.Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wrongedme. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. Ithink it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembledthat of a vulture--a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Wheneverit fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees--verygradually--I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, andthus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. Butyou should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely Iproceeded--with what caution--with what foresight--with whatdissimulation I went to work!

I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week beforeI killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latchof his door and opened it--oh, so gently! And then, when I had madean opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, allclosed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in myhead. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust itin! I moved it slowly--very, very slowly, so that I might notdisturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my wholehead within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay uponhis bed. Ha!--would a madman have been so wise as this? And then,when my head was well in the room, I undid the lanterncautiously--oh, so cautiously--cautiously (for the hingescreaked)--I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell uponthe 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,but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I wentboldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling himby name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed thenight. So you see he would have been a very profound old man,indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked inupon him while he slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in openingthe door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine.Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers--ofmy sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. Tothink that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and henot even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckledat the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bedsuddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back--butno. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for theshutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers), and so Iknew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I keptpushing 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,crying out: "Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did notmove a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. Hewas still sitting up in the bed listening;--just as I have done,night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan ofmortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or grief--oh no!--it wasthe low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul whenovercharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just atmidnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my ownbosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors thatdistracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt,and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he hadbeen lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he hadturned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him.He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He hadbeen saying to himself: "It is nothing but the wind in thechimney--it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or "it is merelya cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes, he had been tryingto comfort himself with these suppositions; but he had found all invain. All in vain; because Death, in approaching him. had stalkedwith his black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And itwas the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that causedhim to feel--although he neither saw nor heard--to feel thepresence of my head within the room.

When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing himlie down, I resolved to open a little--a very, very little crevicein the lantern. So I opened it--you cannot imagine how stealthily,stealthily--until, at length, a single dim ray, like the thread ofthe spider, shot from out the crevice and full upon the vultureeye.

It was open--wide, wide open--and I grew furious as I gazed uponit. I saw it with perfect distinctness--all a dull blue, with ahideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; butI could see nothing else of the old man's face or person: for I haddirected the ray, as if by instinct, precisely upon the damnedspot.

And now--have I not told you that what you mistake for madness isbut over-acuteness of the senses?--now, I say, there came to myears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when envelopedin cotton. I knew that sound well too. It was the beating of theold man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drumstimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. Iheld the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintainthe ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heartincreased. It grew quicker and quicker' and louder and louder everyinstant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grewlouder, I say, louder every moment!--do you mark me well? I havetold you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour ofnight, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange anoise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for someminutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grewlouder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a newanxiety seized me--the sound would be heard by a neighbor! The oldman's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern andleaped into the room. He shrieked once--once only. In an instant Idragged 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,the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vexme; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased.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 andheld it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stonedead. His eye would trouble me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when Idescribe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of thebody. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. Firstof all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the armsand 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 anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out--no stain ofany kind--no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. Atub had caught all--ha! ha!

When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock--stilldark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came aknocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a lightheart--for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, whointroduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of thepolice. A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night:suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had beenlodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had beendeputed 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,was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house.I bade them search--search well. I led them, at length, to hischamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In theenthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, anddesired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, inthe wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat uponthe very spot beneath which reposed 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 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 notwithin my ears.

No doubt I now grew very pale,--but I talked more fluently, andwith a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased--and what could Ido? It was a low, dull, quick sound--much such a sound as a watchmakes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath--and yet theofficers heard it not. I talked more quickly--more vehemently; butthe noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I pacedthe floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury bythe observation of the men--but the noise steadily increased. Oh,God; what could I do? I foamed--I raved--I swore! I swung the chairupon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, butthe noise arose over all and continually increased. It grewlouder--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 ofmy horror!--this I thought, and this I think. But anything wasbetter than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than thisderision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I feltthat I must scream or die!--and now--again!--hark! louder! louder!louder!

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!--tearup the planks!--here, here!--it is the beating of his hideousheart!"