So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.
So I opened it --you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily --until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.
It took me a second to throw it on the floor and throw the heavy mattress on it. I smiled happily to see how easy everything had been for me. But, for several minutes, the heart kept beating with a choked sound.
Enough of pretending, evil! I yelled. I confess that I killed him! Lift those boards! There ... there! Where your horrible heart is beating!