k
before I killed him. 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. Oh, you
would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it
slowly--very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's
sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so
far that I could see him as he lay upon the bed. Ha!--would a madman
have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room,
I undid the lantern cautiously--oh, so cautiously--cautiously (for the
hinges creaked) I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon
the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights--every night just
at midnight--but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible
to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his evil
eye.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the
door. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and
he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled
at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly,
as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back--but no. His room was
as black as pitch with the thick darkness (for the shutters were close
fastened, through fear of robbers), and so I knew that he could not see
the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb
slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in the bed
crying out--"Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a
muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal
terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief--oh, no!--it was the low,
stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged
with awe. I knew the sound well. I knew that he had been lying awake
ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His
fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy
them causeless, but could not.

When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie
down, I resolved to open a little--a very, very little crevic