Every night about midnight , I turned the latch of his door and opened it--oh so gently!
I found the eye always closed; so it was impossible to do the work ; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye.
Upon the eight night I was opening the door, little by little and he not even to dream of my secrets deeds or thoughts and I fairly chuckled at the idea: perhaps he heard me
For a whole hour I did not move, Night after Night, Hearkening to the death watches in the wall....Presently I heard a groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror...
Who's there ?
When I had waited a long time , very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I open the lantern very stealthily, stealthily--until the simple length dim ray, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye, quick sound , that I knew that sound well too and it was the beating of the old man's heart, It increased my fury.
The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. At length it ceased, the old man was dead.