The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3Poe, Edgar Allan
General
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3
Poe, Edgar Allan
American fiction -- 19th century; Fantasy fiction; Horror tales, American
Above all, it was usually found, upon the annual winter opening
of the barriers, that locks, bolts, and secret cellars, had
proved but slender protection to those rich stores of wines and
liquors which, in consideration of the risk and trouble of
removal, many of the numerous dealers having shops in the
neighbourhood had consented to trust, during the period of exile,
to so insufficient a security.
But there were very few of the terror-stricken people who
attributed these doings to the agency of human hands.
Pest-spirits, plague-goblins, and fever-demons, were the popular
imps of mischief; and tales so blood-chilling were hourly told,
that the whole mass of forbidden buildings was, at length,
enveloped in terror as in a shroud, and the plunderer himself was
often scared away by the horrors his own depreciations had
created; leaving the entire vast circuit of prohibited district
to gloom, silence, pestilence, and death.
It was by one of the terrific barriers already mentioned, and
which indicated the region beyond to be under the Pest-ban, that,
in scrambling down an alley, Legs and the worthy Hugh Tarpaulin
found their progress suddenly impeded. To return was out of the
question, and no time was to be lost, as their pursuers were
close upon their heels. With thorough-bred seamen to clamber up
the roughly fashioned plank-work was a trifle; and, maddened with
the twofold excitement of exercise and liquor, they leaped
unhesitatingly down within the enclosure, and holding on their
drunken course with shouts and yellings, were soon bewildered in
its noisome and intricate recesses.
Had they not, indeed, been intoxicated beyond moral sense, their
reeling footsteps must have been palsied by the horrors of their
situation. The air was cold and misty. The paving-stones,
loosened from their beds, lay in wild disorder amid the tall,
rank grass, which sprang up around the feet and ankles. Fallen
houses choked up the streets. The most fetid and poisonous smells
everywhere prevailed;—and by the aid of that ghastly light which,
even at midnight, never fails to emanate from a vapory and
pestilential atmosphere, might be discerned lying in the by-paths
and alleys, or rotting in the windowless habitations, the carcass
of many a nocturnal plunderer arrested by the hand of the plague
in the very perpetration of his robbery.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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