And every night about midnight I turned the latch of his door and opened it—oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern all closed, closed so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head.
who is there?
Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead.
I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye—not even his —could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out—no stain of any kind—no blood-spot whatever
I smiled,—for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome.
A shriek had been heard by a neighbor during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused;
How was your day?
No doubt I now grew very pale;—but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased—and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound —much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath—and yet the officers heard it not.