It was a dark ans soundless day near the end of the year, and the clouds were hanging low in the heavens. All day I had been riding on horseback through country with little life or beauty; and in the early evening I came within view of the House of Usher.
I looked at the scene before me - at the house itself - at the ground around it - at the cold stone walls of the building - at its empty eye-like windows - and at a few dead trees -I looked at this scene, I say, with a complete sadness of soul which was no healthy, earthly feeling.
Rodrick Usher, whom I had known as a boy, was now ill and had asked me to come to help him. When I arrived I felt something strange and fearful about the great old stone house, about the lake in front of it, and about Usher himself.
The illness of the Lady Madeline had long been beyond help of her doctors. She seemed to care about nothing. Slowly her body had grown thin and weak, and often for a short period she would fall into a sleep like the sleep of the dead. So far she had not been forced to stay in bed, but the evening of the day i arrived at the house, the power of the destroyer was too strong for her.
For several days her name was not spoken by either Usher or myself; and during this period I was busy with efforts to lift my friend out of his sadness and gloom. Later,I saw more clearly the uselessness of all the attempts to bring happiness to a mind from which only darkness came, spreading upon all objects in the world its never-ending gloom.
After sealing Lady Madeline in her tomb, a change came in the sickness of my friends mind. His face was, if possible, whiter and more ghastly than before , and the light in his eyes had gone. At times he sat looking at nothing for hours, as if listening to some sound I could not hear.