The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 2Poe, Edgar Allan
General
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 2
Poe, Edgar Allan
American fiction -- 19th century; Fantasy fiction; Horror tales, American; Short stories
For a purpose such as this the cellar was well adapted. Its walls
were loosely constructed, and had lately been plastered
throughout with a rough plaster, which the dampness of the
atmosphere had prevented from hardening. Moreover, in one of the
walls was a projection, caused by a false chimney, or fireplace,
that had been filled up, and made to resemble the red of the
cellar. I made no doubt that I could readily displace the bricks
at this point, insert the corpse, and wall the whole up as
before, so that no eye could detect any thing suspicious. And in
this calculation I was not deceived. By means of a crow-bar I
easily dislodged the bricks, and, having carefully deposited the
body against the inner wall, I propped it in that position,
while, with little trouble, I re-laid the whole structure as it
originally stood. Having procured mortar, sand, and hair, with
every possible precaution, I prepared a plaster which could not
be distinguished from the old, and with this I very carefully
went over the new brickwork. When I had finished, I felt
satisfied that all was right. The wall did not present the
slightest appearance of having been disturbed. The rubbish on the
floor was picked up with the minutest care. I looked around
triumphantly, and said to myself: “Here at least, then, my labor
has not been in vain.”
My next step was to look for the beast which had been the cause
of so much wretchedness; for I had, at length, firmly resolved to
put it to death. Had I been able to meet with it, at the moment,
there could have been no doubt of its fate; but it appeared that
the crafty animal had been alarmed at the violence of my previous
anger, and forebore to present itself in my present mood. It is
impossible to describe, or to imagine, the deep, the blissful
sense of relief which the absence of the detested creature
occasioned in my bosom. It did not make its appearance during the
night; and thus for one night at least, since its introduction
into the house, I soundly and tranquilly slept; aye, slept even
with the burden of murder upon my soul!
The second and the third day passed, and still my tormentor came
not. Once again I breathed as a freeman. The monster, in terror,
had fled the premises forever! I should behold it no more! My
happiness was supreme! The guilt of my dark deed disturbed me but
little. Some few inquiries had been made, but these had been
readily answered. Even a search had been instituted—but of course
nothing was to be discovered. I looked upon my future felicity as
secured.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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