PART
I
True!
— nervous — very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you
say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses — not destroyed — not
dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in
the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad?
Hearken! and observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole story.
PART
II
You
should have seen how wisely I proceeded — with what caution — with what
foresight — with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the
old man than during the whole week 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 his 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.
