The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 1 — John Shaqi
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 1Poe, Edgar Allan
General
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 1
Poe, Edgar Allan
American fiction -- 19th century; Fantasy fiction; Horror tales, American; Poe, Edgar Allan, 1809-1849
Holding the instrument thus obtained within my teeth, I
now proceeded to untie the knot of my cravat. I had to rest
several times before I could accomplish this manoeuvre, but it
was at length accomplished. To one end of the cravat I then made
fast the buckle, and the other end I tied, for greater security,
tightly around my wrist. Drawing now my body upwards, with a
prodigious exertion of muscular force, I succeeded, at the very
first trial, in throwing the buckle over the car, and entangling
it, as I had anticipated, in the circular rim of the wicker-work.
“My body was now inclined towards the side of the car, at an
angle of about forty-five degrees; but it must not be understood
that I was therefore only forty-five degrees below the
perpendicular. So far from it, I still lay nearly level with the
plane of the horizon; for the change of situation which I had
acquired, had forced the bottom of the car considerably outwards
from my position, which was accordingly one of the most imminent
and deadly peril. It should be remembered, however, that when I
fell in the first instance, from the car, if I had fallen with my
face turned toward the balloon, instead of turned outwardly from
it, as it actually was; or if, in the second place, the cord by
which I was suspended had chanced to hang over the upper edge,
instead of through a crevice near the bottom of the car,—I say it
may be readily conceived that, in either of these supposed cases,
I should have been unable to accomplish even as much as I had now
accomplished, and the wonderful adventures of Hans Pfaall would
have been utterly lost to posterity, I had therefore every reason
to be grateful; although, in point of fact, I was still too
stupid to be anything at all, and hung for, perhaps, a quarter of
an hour in that extraordinary manner, without making the
slightest farther exertion whatsoever, and in a singularly
tranquil state of idiotic enjoyment. But this feeling did not
fail to die rapidly away, and thereunto succeeded horror, and
dismay, and a chilling sense of utter helplessness and ruin. In
fact, the blood so long accumulating in the vessels of my head
and throat, and which had hitherto buoyed up my spirits with
madness and delirium, had now begun to retire within their proper
channels, and the distinctness which was thus added to my
perception of the danger, merely served to deprive me of the
self-possession and courage to encounter it. But this weakness
was, luckily for me, of no very long duration. In good time came
to my rescue the spirit of despair, and, with frantic cries and
struggles, I jerked my way bodily upwards, till at length,
clutching with a vise-like grip the long-desired rim, I writhed
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