The tell-tale heart

True! I am always nervous, very dreadfully nervous. But am I a madman? My nervousness sharpened my senses, but not destroyed nor dulled them. It especially sharpened my hearing. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Listen! Listen carefully – and I will tell the whole story.

I do not know when the idea first entered my brain; but once it did, it haunted me day and night. There was no reason for what I did. I did not hate the old man; I even loved him. He never hurt me. He never insulted me. I did not need his money. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture[13]. It was pale blue, with a film over it. Whenever the old man looked at me with his vulture eye, my blood ran cold[14]. I decided to kill the old man to finally get rid of this evil eye forever.

Now this is the point. You think I am mad. Madmen cannot plan. But you do not know how wisely and with what caution I went to work! During the whole week before I killed him I was as kind to him as I could. Every night about twelve o’clock I gently – oh, so gently! – opened his door. And when the opening was wide enough I used to put my hand and my head in. Oh, I bet it looked comical! I moved very slowly so that I might not disturb the old man’s sleep. It took me an hour to place myself within the opening so far that I could see him on his bed. Ha! Could a madman be so wise? I stood there quietly. In my hand, I had a light covered with a cloth. I carefully lifted the cloth so that a single thin ray fell across the vulture eye. I did this for seven nights, seven long nights, every night at midnight. But I found the eye always closed. Because of that, I could not do the work. For it was not the old man I had the urge[15] to kill but his Evil Eye. And every morning after I spoke to the old man in a hearty tone and asked how was his night. He had no clue[16] that every night I watched him sleeping.

On the eighth night, I was even more than usually careful when I opened the door. The hands of a clock move more quickly than did my hand. Never before that night I felt more powerful. I could hardly hold my feelings of triumph back. The old man was lying on his bed and had no idea I was at his door. I let out a slight chuckle. He suddenly moved. You may think I become afraid – but no. His room was completely dark. I knew that he could not see me. I continued to push the door, slowly, softly.

I put my head in. Then I started putting in my hand when suddenly the old man sprang up in bed and cried, “Who’s there?”

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle. Neither did I hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening.

Soon I heard a cry of fear which escaped from the old man. I knew he was filled with horror. I knew what he felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. He probably tried to calm himself down by thinking these strange sounds came from wind or a mouse… But it was not. It was Death standing right in front of him.

Slowly, I lifted the cloth so that a single thin ray fell across the vulture eye. And there it was. The Eye was open widely. I saw it with perfect distinctness – all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it. I grew furious as I gazed at it.

Did you know people often mistake over-acuteness of the sense for madness? I heard a low dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes if you envelop it in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man’s heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I kept still. I hardly breathed. I held the light motionless. But the sound grew louder. Can you imagine the old man’s terror! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! The heart was beating so loudly that I was sure neighbors must hear it. I felt anger. The old man’s hour had come![17]With a loud yell, I jumped into the room. He shrieked once – once only. In an instant[18], I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. The deed was done[19]. The old man was dead. But I still heard his heart beating. This, however, did not bother me; no one would hear anything through the wall. At length it ceased. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead[20]. His eye would trouble me no more.

If you still think I am mad, you will change your mind when I tell you how wisely I hid the body. First, I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs. I was so careful that not a single drop of blood fell on the floor. Then I took up three boards from the flooring of the room, put the body underneath and replaced the boards. Everything looked the same.

When I finished, it was four o’clock in the morning, still dark. I heard someone knocking on the door. I went down to open the door. There were three police officers. One of the neighbors heard the old man’s cry and called the police. They came to ask questions and search the house.

I let them in. I was not afraid of anything as I knew I did everything right. I let them search the house. When they were in his room, I brought some chairs and offered them to rest. I placed my own seat on the very spot beneath which lied the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My manner convinced them. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted. But soon I felt myself getting pale. I wanted them to go away. I fancied a ringing in my ears. The ringing became more distinct while the police officers were still chatting. I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling but it did not help.

No doubt[21]I now grew very pale. No matter what I did, the sound increased. How could the officers not hear it?! No! They heard! They knew! They were making a mockery of my horror! I could not tolerate this agony anymore.

“Villains!” I screamed. “I admit the deed! Tear up the floor! Here, here! It is the beating of his hideous heart!”

Ms.[22] found in a bottle

People often criticize me for being too rational. Nature gave me a scientific mind, and my wealthy family gave me a fine education. This together formed my habits of hard logical thinking. I am the last person to believe in any kind of mystery. Considering this, I have an incredible story to tell.

I spent many years in foreign travel. It was 18… when I went on a voyage to the Archipelago of the Sunda Islands as passenger. We sailed in the rich and populous island of Java on a beautiful ship of about four hundred tons. It carried cotton wool, oil, coir, jaggeree, ghee, cocoanuts, and a few cases of opium. The ship was so full, that she crank.

The ship sailed with a mere breath of wind. For many days it stood along the eastern coast of Java. Nothing disturbed our monotonous course.

One evening, a single cloud in the sky attracted my attention. It was of unusual color and it was the first cloud we saw since our departure from Batavia. I watched it carefully until sunset. Then it spread all at once to the eastward and westward and left a narrow strip of vapor in the sky. Then I noticed an unusual dusky red color of the moon and the peculiar character of the sea. The water was rapidly changing and seemed more than usually transparent.

As night came on, every breath of wind died away. The air now became very hot and calm. A long hair, which I held between the finger and thumb, hung without making the slightest move. However, the captain saw no indication of danger and ordered to remove the sails and let go the anchor. The crew stretched themselves deliberately on deck. I went below, and a heavy feeling of something bad coming developed in my chest. Indeed, the weather signaled Simoom[23]. I told the captain my fears; but he paid no attention to what I said.

I could not sleep so I went on desk. As I placed my foot on the upper step of the companion-ladder, a loud, humming noise startled me; the ship started shaking. Before I even realized, a wild wave knocked me off[24]. It swept the entire decks from stem to stern. Although the ship was completely waterlogged[25], after a minute it rose from the sea. It shacked for a while and finally righted[26].

By some miracle, I survived. I was jammed in between the sternpost and rudder. With great difficulty, I stood up and looked dizzily[27] around. We were immersed in the whirlpool of a foaming ocean. After a while, I heard the voice of an old Swede, who shipped with us when we leaved port. I hallooed to him and he came to me. We soon discovered we were the only survivors; the wave swept all on desk overboard, the captain and mates were dead too for water flooded their cabins. No one could help us to save the ship.

We were paralyzed by the momentary expectation of going down. Our rope broke at the first breath of the hurricane and the framework of our stern was shattered. We believed that a great wave would finally destroy our poor ship but it did not happen.

For four days and nights, waves carried us down the coast of New Holland. On the fifth day, the wind was blowing more to the northward and it became extremely cold. The sky was thick and grey; no clouds were in it. About noon, we saw the sun. It gave out no light but a dull and sullen glow[28].

Our ship sank within the sea and we could see the sun no more. We fell into complete darkness. The sixth day never arrived – it was an eternal night. We noticed that, though the storm continued, there was no more surf or foam. A superstitious[29] horror filled our souls.

We secured ourselves to the stump of the mast and looked out bitterly into the world of ocean. We had no means of calculating time and we had no idea where we were. We knew, however, we made farther to the southward than any previous navigators. Every moment threatened to be our last. My companion reminded me that our ship has some excellent qualities; but I could not help but feel hopeless.

We were at the bottom of one of these abysses, when a quick scream from my companion broke the night. “See! see!” cried he, shrieking in my ears, “God! see! see!” I saw a dull, sullen glare of red light that fell on our desk. I looked up and my blood froze from what I saw. A gigantic ship, about four thousand tons, floated at a terrific height directly above us. Its size was much bigger than any ship I knew. It was of a deep dark color and had no usual customary carved figures on it. A single row of brass cannon[30] poked out from its open ports. But what mainly inspired us with horror was that the ship bore up under a press of sail in the very teeth of that supernatural sea[31]. For a moment, it paused on the giddy top, then trembled and – came down.

I suddenly felt fearless. I went up as far as I could and waited the ruin that was coming. Our own vessel sank with its head to the sea. The shock of the descending mass struck it and it resulted in throwing me on the rigging[32] of the stranger.

As I fell, the ship anchored. The crew was busy and no one noticed me. I went to the main hatchway, which was open, and hid in the hold. I do not know why I wanted to be unnoticed. Something chilling was in in appearance of the navigator of the ship. I removed a small portion of the shifting-boards and made a hiding-place in the hold. I hardly completed my work when I heard footsteps. A man passed by my place. I did not see his face but I could tell it was an old man. He muttered to himself, in a low broken tone, some words of a language, which I could not understand. He then went to a corner where a pile of singular-looking instruments and old-looking charts of navigation lay. Finally, he went on deck, and I saw him no more.

A strange feeling possessed my soul. I cannot explain this feeling as I never felt like that before. Actually, I doubt anyone ever experienced that. This sense comes from my very specific situation and it makes it hard to understand. A new sense-a new entity is added to my soul.

It has been a long time[33] since I got on that ship. People here are so deeply in thoughts that they never notice me. There is no need for me to hide – they just do not want to see me. I just went into the captain’s own private cabin and took some materials with which I write. I passed directly before the eyes of the mate and he did not care. I will continue my journal and I hope the world will see it. At the last moment, I will put the MS. in a bottle, and throw it within the sea.

A new accident happened that gave me some food for thought[34]. I went on desk and, as usually unnoticed, throw myself on a pile of old sails. While I was laying, I unwittingly started painting with a tar-brush the edges of a sail near me. When I looked at the sail, I saw that my thoughtless touches of the brush formed into the word DISCOVERY.

I made many observations lately on the structure of the ship. Although it is well armed, it is not a ship of war. The general equipment confirms this. It is easy to tell what this ship is not and it is hard to tell what it is. Its strange model, huge size, a simple bow and antiquated stern make me think of old foreign chronicles and ages long ago.

I inspected the timbers of the ship. I am not familiar with the wood the ship is built of but there is something about it that strikes me. The wood is extremely porous and old. It seems to me that it has every characteristic of Spanish oak, if Spanish oak were distended by any unnatural means.

I remembered an old weather-beaten Dutch navigator that usually said, “It is as sure as sure as there is a sea where the ship itself will grow in bulk like the living body of the seaman[35].”

About an hour ago, I got myself among a group of the crew. They paid no attention to me although I stood in the very midst of them all. It seemed they had no clue about my presence. I noted that all of them were really old. Their knees trembled, their shoulders were down; they had wrinkled skin, low voices and gray hair. Strange and obsolete[36] mathematical instruments were all around them.

Our ship continued its course due south despite raging waves of ocean[37]. I just left the desk because I could not stay on my feet. The crew, however, has no problem with it.

It is a miracle to me that we were not swollen by the ocean yet. We slipped away from the waves like sea gulls. The only explanation for this, I think, is that some strong current keeps us afloat.

I saw the captain face to face. I met him in his own cabin and, as I expected, he paid no attention to me. His appearance inspires respect for him. His face has the stamp of a myriad of years. His gray hairs are records of the past, and his grayer eyes are sibyls of the future. The cabin was full of iron-clasped folios, moldering instruments of science and obsolete long-forgotten charts. The captain had a paper in his hands with the signature of a monarch. He muttered to himself some curses of a foreign tongue. Although I stood next to him, his voice seemed distant.

The ship and everything on it have the spirit of old age. The crew go around like ghosts. I was a dealer in antiquities for all my life and I saw the shadows of fallen columns at Balbec[38], and Tadmor[39], and Persepolis[40]; but nothing ever gave me such strange feeling as seeing them.

When I look around me, I feel ashamed of my former fears. There is no word to describe the battle of wind and ocean that captured us. All near the ship is the blackness of eternal night and a chaos of foamless water. The only thing I can see through the blackness is ramparts of ice that look like the walls of the universe.

As I thought, the ship proves to be in a current, if I may say so. It runs on to the southward with a speed of a waterfall.

The horrors of my sensations is indescribable. Yet I feel curious about where we are going. Obviously, we are on the verge of a great discovery. Perhaps this current leads us to the southern pole itself; there are many signs in favor of that[41].

The crew nervously walk around. But it feels like they are full of hope rather than the apathy of despair.

In the meantime, the wind still carries us from the bottom to the top and vice versa[42]. Oh, horror upon horror! Suddenly the ice opens to the right and to the left. We are whirling dizzily in immense circles. The walls of ice are now lost in the darkness and the distance. The circles rapidly grow small – we are plunging madly within the grasp of the whirlpool and – oh God! – going down.

William Wilson

Let me call myself, for the present, William Wilson. It is not my real name. That name is an object for the scorn, for the horror of all. Did not wind carry my infamous name to all regions of the globe? Am I not forever dead to the world? Does not a dark cloud hang eternally between my hopes and heaven?

Men usually become bad by degrees[43]. But from me, all my goodness dropped in a single moment, as if I dropped a coat. From little acts of weakness I passed, in one giant step, into pure evil. I will tell what one event brought me into this. Death is near, and its shadow softened my soul. I desire for the sympathy and pity of other men. I wish them to believe that I was the slave of circumstances beyond human control. I believe no other man was ever tempted as me, and no other man ever fell as down as me. Was not I living in a dream? Am I not dying from the horror of this dream?

My family is well-known for its choleric temper. I inherited the family temper and, as I grew older, it became stronger. My friends had hard times dealing with my bad character and the hurt it did me was great. I grew stubborn and always wanted people to do things my way. My parents, weak in mind and body, could never stop me from doing the wildest things. Their weak attempts to do so always failed which made me saw no authority in them. In our house, my voice was a law. Unlike other children, I was the master of my own actions.

I spent my early years in a small, misty-looking village of England. My school was in a large, very old house that stood among a great number of big trees. All of the houses there were very old. In truth, that old town was a dream-like and spirit-soothing place. I remember the freshening coolness of its streets, the smell of its thousand bushes and the feeling I had whenever I heard the church bell. I enjoy recalling these memories – as much as it possible to enjoy something in my suffering. Not only it gives me pleasure, but is important in the understanding of my following fate. Let me then remember.

The house, as I said, was old and wide. Its territory was large and surrounded by a solid brick wall. Three times a week we were allowed to go beyond this wall. On Saturday, we took brief walks through some of the neighboring fields, and on Sunday, we went twice to the only church of the village. The head-teacher of our school was also the head of the church. With a spirit of deep wonder I used to watch him there! In church, it was a man whose face seemed to be the embodiment of modesty[44] and whose clothes were glossy out of cleanness. In school, this same man stood with a stern face and clothes far from clean and was ready to strike us for disobeying him. Oh, this paradox is too great for my mind!

I well remember our playground behind the house. There were no trees, nor benches; the ground was as hard as stone. In front of the house there was a small garden, but we hardly ever visited it. We went through this garden only when we first arrived in the school or finally departed from it.

But the house! It was truly a palace to me. There was really no end to it. It was always hard to say on which of two floors I happened to be. There were three or four steps either up or down from each room to every other. The rooms branched into each other, and these branches were too many to count. During the five years I was there, I always had trouble to explain someone how to find the room where I and some other twenty boys lived. The schoolroom was the largest in the house – and I could not help thinking so, in the world. It was very long and low, with pointed Gothic windows and a ceiling of oak. In a far corner was the office of our head-teacher, Mr. Bransby. The door of the office was thick and heavy, and no one ever would dare to open it in Mr. Bransby absence.

Five years passed between the massy walls of this academy. Interestingly, a child does not need the outside world to be amused. As a child, I found more pleasure in monotony of the school than as a young man in riches or an older man in crimes. Usually people do not remember their early life but I remember mine clearly.

I was different from other boys. My hot temper separated me from them. Slowly but naturally I gained control over all not greatly older than myself. But there was an exception. This exception was a boy who had the same name as myself although was not related to me. He was the only one who would not follow my commands.

We were constantly competing with each other. I always acted as if I do not care about him but the truth was that I was afraid of him. Although it seemed no one even noticed the battle between us, he always tried to stop me from things I wanted to do. The strangest of all was his manner with which he did it. It was somewhat affectionate. I thought his manner meant to show that he was better than I was.

Maybe this and the fact that we shared the same name, made some boys from the senior classes think we are brothers. As I mentioned earlier, that Wilson was not connected to my family. But if he were, we would be twins – as I once discovered he was born the same day as me, he nineteenth of January, 1813.

In spite of our constant competing and anxiety it gave me, I could not hate him. Almost every day we quarreled and every time I came out a winner. But somehow his manner made me feel that he was the true winner. I had mixed feelings toward him; something between love and hatred, fear and respect.

I tried to make everyone laugh at him. I tried to cause him pain, pretending I am just fooling around. But my attempts often failed, as it seemed there was nothing in him to make fun of. Actually, there was, but no one ever would use it against him – no one except me. He was able to speak only in a very, very soft, low voice, and I never missed an opportunity to bring that fact up.

Wilson usually fought back. He, too, knew my weak spot. He somehow sensed I had a strong distaste for my name. I hated that too many people bore the same name. I felt like it took my personality away, and I hated when our schoolfellows mistook my actions for his and his actions for mine. But the truth was we indeed were alike in mind and body. I knew he knew that too and he used that as a weapon. He perfectly copied my dress and my walk; he could not copy my voice – but he perfectly copied my tone.

I cannot describe how much this most careful picture of myself annoyed me. My only consolation was that no one else noticed that. I was the only one who saw Wilson’s strange and knowing smiles. He seemed to laugh within himself watching me in anger. He did not care no one laughed with him. The fact that no one on school participated in his design[45] was a mystery to me for many anxious months.

As I said before, he always tried to stop me from doing things I wanted to do. He spoke to me in the tone of patronage, which I hated. As I got older, my resistance to his unwanted advice grew. But I have to admit, his moral sense and worldly wisdom were always far keener than my own. I also have to admit that I could be a batter, and thus a happier man, if only I rejected his advices less frequently. Every day I showed more and more openly that I did not want to listen to anything he told me. This made him avoid me or, at least, pretend to do so.

It was about the same period when during a regular quarrel he had something peculiar in his manner. First it startled me, and then deeply interested me. Somehow he brought to my mind the pictures of my earliest years. Those pictures were half-lighted and not clear. I had a feeling that I knew this person standing before me very long ago. But that feeling passed as quickly as it came.

The situation that I just told you about happened on my last day in the school. Night after that I decided to put my old plan of hurting him into action. When everyone was sleeping, I got out of bed, and with a light in my hand, I went quietly through the house to Wilson’s room. When I reached his room, I entered without a sound and left the light outside. I listened and assured he was asleep. I returned to take the light and with it again went to the bed. I looked down upon his face; – and my blood went cold. My knees trembled and horror filled my soul. Was this – this the face of William Wilson? I saw, indeed, it was, but I shook as if imagining it was not. I looked and many incoherent thoughts popped in my head. He surely looked different from daytime. The same name, the same body; the same day that we came to school! And then meaningless imitation of my walk, my voice, my habits, and my manner! Was it, in truth, humanly possible that what I now saw was the result of his continued efforts to be like me? Filled with a creeping shudder, I put out the light and went away. I was not able to stay in the walls of the school any longer so I left it immediately and never entered it again.

After some months of doing nothing at home I went to study to Eton. That little time was enough for me to forget the events at Dr. Bransby’s school, or at least change my perception of these. Now I could hardly recall them. The reckless life I immediately threw myself in washed away everything valuable in my past. Three years of my mischief passed there. I do not want to go in details of that shameful period but somehow my wrongdoing escaped the watchful eyes of all the teachers. I grew larger in body and smaller in soul.

One night I invited a small group of the most immoral students to a secret meeting in my chamber. We met at a late hour of the night. We drank wine and played cards until morning. Just when I was about to make a toast of more than usual profanity I heard the voice of a servant outside the room. He said that someone wanted to talk to me.

I was rather delighted than surprised. A few steps brought me in the hall of the building. There was no light except some weak rays of sun, which broke through the window. I saw a figure of a man about my own height wearing similar clothes to mine. I could not see his face. As I entered the room, he quickly came to me and whispered “William Wilson!” in my ear.

I grew perfectly sober[46] in an instant.

The manner of the stranger, his low, hissing tone with which he uttered these two words… all was familiar. Memories flooded me but before I even realized, he was gone.

For some weeks I thought about what happened. Who and what was this Wilson? What were his purposes? I could not answer these questions. I learned that for some reasons he left the school on the same day as me. But in a short time I stopped thinking about him as I was busy with my departure for the University of Oxford.

I went to Oxford and, thanks to my parents, had enough money to continue my dissolute way of life. I spent more than the sons of the richest families in England. The list of my crimes extended dramatically.

I forgot my position as a gentleman. I trained in arts of gambling and the vilest men became my friends. I made a lot of money with it. I wore a mask of virtue[47] while committing the worst of evil.

Once a young man came to our university. His name was Glendinning and he was known for his riches, which were easily acquired. He was my new target. We often played cards. With the gambler’s usual art, I let him to win large sums. When he became sure of himself as a great master at cards, my plans were ready.

I met him one night in the room of another friend, Mr. Preston. A group of eight or ten persons were there. I made sure that the introduction of cards should appear accidental. Eventually, it was Glendinning himself who first spoke of a card game. We played far into the night and at last Glendinning and I played by ourselves. The game, too, was my favorite écarté[48]! The rest of the company watched us. Glendinning showed a wild nervousness. I thought it was because of wine he drank. In a very short period he lost a great amount of money to me. After another glass of wine, he proposed to double our already high stakes. In less than an hour he quadrupled his debt.

For some reason his face became extremely pale. I could not understand that for I thought his riches were immeasurable. Afraid of what my friends would think about me I stopped the game. The expression of total despair on the face of opponent made me realize he lost everything he had. He was weak in mind and weakened by wine, and I took full advantage of this.

The room fell into uncomfortable silence. Everyone in the room looked like a jury at me. Suddenly the wide heavy doors of the room opened. As if by magic, every candle in the room blew out. A stranger entered. He was about my height and wore a very fine, long coat.

“Gentlemen,” he said, in a low, distinct, and never-to-be-forgotten whisper, “Gentlemen, I make no apology for this behavior, because I am fulfilling a duty. You are unaware of the true character of the person who won large sums from Lord Glendinning. Please take off his coat, and then, look in it very carefully.”

While he spoke, everyone kept silent. And as he ended, he was gone. Shall I describe my feelings? Must I say that I felt all the horrors of the damned? But there was little time to think. Many hands roughly seized me. The candles were immediately lit. My friends looked in my coat. There they found all valuable cards needed to win in the game.

“Mr. Wilson,” said Mr. Preston, “Mr. Wilson, this is your property. I presume there is no need to seek for any farther evidence of your skill. We had enough. I hope you understand that you cannot longer stay in the University.”

I felt humiliated but another thing attracted my whole attention. My coat was of a unique fashion[49] I myself invented. It was different from every other coat in the world. When, therefore, Mr. Preston gave me the coat which he picked up from the floor, I was horrified to find my own was already hanging on my arm. The two were alike in every way. I remembered that the only person, except me, who wore a coat in the room, was that stranger. Retaining some presence of mind[50], I took the one Mr. Preston offered me and left.

I ran from Oxford University but I could not escape. Wherever I went – Vienna, Berlin, Moscow – the other Wilson was there. I ran to the very ends of the earth in vain; he always found me. Again and again I asked myself, “Who is he? Why does he do that to me?” There was no answer. It was noticeable, indeed, that he showed up when I was on my way to commit my crimes. It was also noticeable, that every time he hid his face. But why? Could he, for an instant, suppose that I could fail to recognize the William Wilson of my school boy days? My eternal enemy? Impossible!

I always felt weaker than him for he always knew more and was wiser in everything. I felt I could not resist his imperious domination. But, of late days, I gave myself entirely to wine and it made me even more impatient of control. I felt a burning hope; I thought that with the increase of my own firmness my tormentor would proportionally get weaker. I hoped I can became free.

It was at Rome, during the Carnival of 18-, when I was on a masquerade in house of the Duke Di Broglio. I drank a lot of wine. The crowded rooms irritated me. I was looking for (with awful intentions in mind) the young and beautiful wife of the old Di Broglio. Just when I saw her and was ready to approach, I felt a light hand on my shoulder and that ever-remembered whisper within my ear.

In a wild anger, I turned at once and seized him violently by the collar. As I expected, he wore the clothes as I did. A mask of black silk entirely covered his face.

“You again!” I cried, “you shall not – you shall not chase me until death! Follow me, or I stab you where you stand!”

I rushed into a small room nearby. When we entered, I pushed him furiously from me. I commanded him to pick his sword up and fight with me. After a moment, he did so and was ready to fight.

The fight was short indeed. In a few seconds I forced him back against the wall and put my sword, with ferocity, in him.

At that moment, someone tried to open the door. I hurried to close it firmly and returned to my dying enemy. But what human language can describe that astonishment I felt after? I noticed myself in a large mirror, which stood in the room. I stepped up to it in extreme terror. My features were pale and covered in blood.

Realization came to me. These features belonged to my enemy. It was Wilson, who then stood before me in the agonies of his dissolution. His mask and coat lay on the floor. Everything to the smallest detail in his appearance was my own.

It was Wilson; but he spoke no longer in a whisper. Now it was my voice I heard while he said:

“You won and I yield. Yet now you are also dead – dead to the World, to Heaven and to Hope! In me you existed. In my death, see by this face, which is your own, how utterly you murdered yourself.”

The gold-bug

I became friends with Mr. William Legrand many years ago. He was of a rich and famous family; but a series of misfortunes made him lose his fortunate and leave New Orleans, the city of his ancestors, and settle at Sullivan’s Island, near Charleston, South Carolina.

This island is about three miles long and in width is about a quarter of a mile. A shallow stream[51] separates it from the mainland. There are almost no trees except for the western part of the island that is covered with many small bushes.

In that part Legrand built himself a small hut. We met by accident and soon he was one of my dearest friends. He was well educated and strong in mind; but because of his misanthropy, he also was moody. He had many books but rarely read them. His main hobby was fishing and collecting shells, which he picked up while walking along the beach. An old negro, called Jupiter, usually accompanied him.

Usually winters on the island were mild. But about the middle of October, 18-, it was unusually cold. Just before sunset I made my way to the hut of my friend. We did not see each other for several weeks because at that time I lived in Charleston. I came to his hut and knocked. Nobody answered me. I searched for the key, where I knew Legrand usually hid it, and opened the door. The fireplace was lit, which was unusual. I took off my coat, sat in an armchair and waited for the hosts.

Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me the warmest welcome. After that, Jupiter left to cook us dinner. I noticed that Legrand was in one of his enthusiastic moods. He found an unknown bivalve[52] and a huge bug he believed to be totally new. He wanted my opinion on it, but decided to wait until tomorrow morning.

“And why not tonight?” I asked.

“I did not know you were coming,” said Legrand, “On my way home I met Lieutenant G- and, very foolishly, I lent him the bug; so it will be impossible for you to see it until the morning. Stay here tonight, and I will send Jupiter for it at sunrise. It is the loveliest thing in creation!”

“What? – sunrise?”

“Nonsense! no! – the bug. It is of a brilliant gold color-about the size of a large nut-with two jet black spots near one extremity of the back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other…”

“It is made of pure gold, I keep telling you,” interrupted Jupiter, “I never hold a heavier bug in my life!”

“Well, suppose it is, Jup,” replied Legrand too seriously, “is that the reason you let your dinner burn?”

Then he turned back to me.

“The color is really almost enough to prove Jupiter’s idea. The scales of the bug give off a brilliant metallic shine. Now, let me give you some idea of the shape.”

He sat at a small table, took a pen in his hand and searched for a paper but could not find one.

“Never mind,” said he at last, “this will do.” He took a very dirty scrap of paper from his coat and made a rough drawing on it. Then he handed it to me. Suddenly I heard a loud growl and scratching at the door. Jupiter opened it and a large dog rushed in. It was Legrand’s dog. The dog jumped on me and started licking my face for I showed much attention to him during previous visits. After that, I looked at the paper. The drawing puzzled me a little.

“Well!” I said, after some time, “This sure is a strange bug, I must admit. I never saw anything like that before. It looks like a skull or a dead man head, if you ask me.”

“A dead man head,” echoed Legrand, “well, it does look similar on a paper. The two upper black spots look like eyes and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth-and then the shape of the whole is oval.”

“Perhaps so,” said I; “but, Legrand, you are not an artist. I must wait until I see the beetle itself if you want my opinion on it.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said he, a little annoyed, “I studied drawing. I had good masters. I think – or at least I want to think – my skills are quite decent.”

“But, my dear friend, you must be kidding me then”, I said, “This is a very accurate drawing of a skull. Your bug must be the weirdest bug in the world if it looks like that. And where are its antennae[53]?”

“The antennae!” said Legrand, almost in anger; “I am sure you must see the antennae. I made them as distinct as they are in the original insect.”

“Well, I still don’t see them,” I said and handed him the paper back. I didn’t want to annoy him more but I was very surprised at his serious reaction. Indeed, I saw no antennae in his drawing, which was really close to a dead man head.

He took the paper back. It was obvious he was irritated for some reason. At first, he wanted to throw the drawing in fire; but then something caught his eye. He looked at it more carefully for some minutes. He turned it in all directions. Again, his behavior surprised me. Without saying a word, he took his wallet and carefully put the paper in it.

He now grew more serious; but his enthusiasm ceased. He was thinking of something. As the evening went away, he fell into his thoughts deeper. My attempts to distract him failed. I planned to stay over at the hut, as I often did, but, seeing my friend in this mood, I decided to leave. He did not insist otherwise but as I left, he shook my hand with even more warmth than usual.

One month after this, I heard nothing from Legrand. I went back to Charleston and one day his man, Jupiter, visited me. The good old negro looked worried. I feared something very bad happened to my friend.

“Well, Jup,” said I, “what is the matter now? – how is your master?”

“To be honest, not so well.”

“Not well! I am truly sorry to hear it. What does he complain of?”

“He complains of nothing but he is very sick. He doesn’t say what bothers him but he keeps walking with his head down and as white as a goose. He mutters something all the time. He writes some strange figures all the time. I try to keep my eye on him but recently he ran away and was absent for a whole night. I was going to punish him with a big stick when he was back, but I could not for he looked very poorly.”

“Do you have any idea what happened to him? Did anything bad happened since I saw you?”

“Not, nothing after you left. But right on the day of your visit something bad did happen!”

“What do you mean?”

“As if you don’t know. The bug! I am sure that damned bug bit him somewhere in the head.”

“Why do you think so?”

“I saw that bug. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to take it with your bare hands. It has big claws and a big mouth. He kicks and bites. I think it bit him when we were trying to hunt it.”

“And you think the bite made him sick?”

“I don’t think – I know that. What else could make him dream of gold so much if not that gold bug?

“But how do you know he dreams about gold?”

“He talks about it in his sleep – that is how I know. I have a note from him for you.”

He handed me a note that said:

“My dear friend! Why didn’t I see you for so long? I hope you was not so foolish to get offended by my behavior last time you visited me. There was a reason for that behavior. I have something to tell you, yet I don’t know how to tell it, or whether I should tell it at all.

“I feel not so well lately. Poor old Jup annoys me even though he has well-meant attentions[54]. Would you believe it? He prepared a big stick to beat me when I left home alone for a night. Only my looks saved me from this.

“If you can, in any way, please come over with Jupiter. Do come. I wish to see you tonight. It is a very important matter.

“Ever yours,

“WILLIAM LEGRAND”.

Something in the tone of this note made me worry. Its whole style differed from that of Legrand. What possessed his mind that much? What important matter he wanted to discuss? Without hesitation, I packed my things and was ready to go.

When we reached the boat in which we were to go, I noticed a scythe[55] and three spades[56], all apparently new, lying in the bottom.

“What are they doing here?” I asked Jup.

“Master asked me to buy these for him.”

“But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is he going to do this?”

“I don’t know and I don’t think he knows too. It’s all that damned bug!”

About three in the afternoon, we arrived on the island. Legrand waited for us in eager expectation. He was noticeably nervous. His face was pale and his deep-set eyes showed an unhealthy shine. I asked him if he got his bug back from Lieutenant G-.

“Oh, yes,” he replied, and his face turned red, “I got it from him the next morning. Nothing ever would make me part with this bug. Do you know that Jupiter is quite right about it?”

“In what way?” I asked.

“In supposing it to be a bug of real gold.” He said this with an air of profound seriousness, and I felt shocked.

“This bug will make me rich!” he continued, with a triumphant smile, “I lost my family riches. Now Fortune gives me a chance to get it back. All I have to do is to use it properly. Jupiter, bring me that beetle!”

“What! I am not touching it; bring it yourself!”

Legrand stood up and brought me the beetle from a glass box in which he had it. It was truly a beautiful bug, but unknown to naturalists at that time. There were two round, black spots near one extremity of the back, and a long one near the other. The scales were hard and glossy, with all the appearance of polished gold. The bug was so heavy I could not blame Jupiter for his opinion. But how could Legrand believe it?

“I sent for you,” he said in a solemn[57] tone, “I sent for you so you can help me in furthering the views of Fate and of the bug-”

“My dear Legrand,” I cried, interrupting him, “you are certainly unwell. You need to be careful. Now go to bed and I will stay with you until it is over. I think you have a fever and…”

“Feel my pulse,” said he.

I felt it, and, to say the truth, found not the slightest indication of fever.

“But you may be ill and yet have no fever. Allow me this once to prescribe for you. In the first place, go to bed. In the next-”

“You are wrong,” he answered, “I am as well as I can expect to be under the excitement which I suffer. If you really wish me well, you will help me to get better.”

“And how?”

“Very easily. I want you to join my expedition into the hills, on the mainland. I and Jupiter will need help of someone we can trust, and you are the only person we fully trust.”

“I do want to help you to feel better,” I replied; “but do you mean to say that bug is the reason for your expedition?”

“It is.”

“Then, Legrand, I cannot take a part in such absurd venture.”

“Well, I guess we have to try it by ourselves then.”

“Try it by yourselves! The man is surely mad! How long you think you’ll be?”

“Probably all night. We shall start immediately, and be back by sunrise.”

“And will you promise me that when it is over, and the bug business (good God!) settled to your satisfaction, you will then return home and follow my advice?”

“Yes; I promise; and now let us be off, for we have no time to lose.”

With a heavy heart I accompanied my friend. We started about four o’clock-Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself. Jupiter had with him the scythe and spades. ‘That damned bug’ were the only words which he spoke during the journey. As for myself, I carried a couple of dark lights while Legrand carried only the beetle attached to a piece of rope. Seeing him swing it back and forth like a madman almost made my cry.

However, all I could do is to humor his fancy[58], at least for the present. In the meantime I tried to find out what is the goal of the expedition. He refused to tell me and replied to all my questions with the only words “we shall see!”

We crossed the stream at the head of the island. Then we proceeded in a northwesterly direction. The further we went the wilder and more deserted country became. We walked where, it seemed, no man has gone before[59]. Legrand led the way and stopped only for an instant, here and there, to consult certain landmarks only he could understand.

Two hours later, we came to a flatland. It was near the summit of an almost inaccessible hill. The hill was thickly forested. We climbed to a natural platform that was thickly overgrown with blackberry bushes. Jupiter cleared for us a path with the scythe. It led us to an enormously tall tulip-tree. It was much taller than any other tree I ever saw. It’s beautiful branches spread wide and gave it a majestic appearance. When we approached the tree, Legrand turned to Jupiter and asked if he thought he could climb it. For some moments the old man seemed to be shocked by the question and made no answer. Finally he went to the huge trunk and walked slowly around it. After examining it, he said:

“There is no tree in the world I would not be able to climb!”

“Then go up as soon as possible before it’s too dark to see what we are about.”

“How far I must go?” asked Jupiter.

“Get up the main trunk first, and then I will tell you which way to go-and here-stop! take this beetle with you.”

“The bug! The damned bug!” cried the negro, drawing back in dismay, “Why would I need it there?!”

“If you are afraid, Jup, a great big negro like you, to take hold of a harmless little dead beetle, you can carry it up by this string. But, if you do not take it up with you in some way, I will have to break your head with this shovel.”

“What the matter now?” said Jup, evidently shamed, “You always want to raise fuss about me! I not am afraid of the bug!”

Here he took cautiously the end the string and, holding the bug as far from himself as possible, climbed the tree.

“Which way I must go now?” he asked.

“Keep up the largest branch – the one on this side,” said Legrand. Jupiter climbed upper without difficulty. The foliage was so thick we could not see his figure. Soon we heard voice in a sort of halloo.

“How much further I need to go?”

“How high up are you?” asked Legrand.

“So high I can see the sky,” replied Jup.

“Nevermind the sky, but listen to what I say. Look down the trunk and count the branches below you on this side. How many branches you passed?”

“One, two, three, four, five… I passed five branches.”

“Then go one branch higher.”

He did so.

“Now, Jup,” cried Legrand in an excited tone, “I want you to work your way out on that branch as far as you can. If you see anything strange, let me know.” By this time I had no doubt of my poor friend’s insanity. I became seriously worried about getting him home. While I was thinking what was best to be done[60], I heard Jupiter’s voice again.

“I am afraid to go further. The branch is pretty much dead and dry.”

“Did you say it was a dead branch, Jupiter?” cried Legrand in a trembling voice.

“Yes!”

“What in the name heaven shall I do?” asked Legrand, seemingly in the greatest distress.

“Do!” said I, glad of an opportunity to get a word, “why come home and go to bed. Come now. It’s getting late, and, besides, you remember your promise.”

“Jupiter,” cried he, without paying any attention to my words, “do you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you very well.”

“Then try the wood with your knife, and see if you think it very rotten[61].”

“It’s rotten, sure enough,” replied the negro in a few moments, “but not too very rotten. I could make my way further by myself.”

“By yourself! What do you mean?”

“I mean the bug. It is a very heavy bug. I have to drop it. Then the branch could hold my weight.”

“Nonsense!” cried Legrand, apparently much relieved, “As sure as you drop that beetle I’ll break your neck. Look here, Jupiter, do you hear me?”

“I hear you. No need to yell at a poor nigger.”

“Well! Now listen! If you climb on the branch as far as you think safe, and not let go the beetle, I’ll make you a present of a silver dollar as soon as you get down.”

“Okay,” replied the negro very quickly, “I am almost at end of it. Oh! What is this upon the tree?”

“Well!” cried Legrand, highly delighted, “what is it?”

“A skull. Somebody left their head on that tree and crows ate all flash on it.”

“A skull, you say! Very well. How is it fastened to the tree? What holds it on?”

“There is a great big nail in the skull that fastens it on to the tree.”

“Well now, Jupiter, do exactly as I tell you. Do you hear? Find the left eye of the skull.”

“Got it!”

“Let the beetle drop through it, as far as the string will reach. But be careful and do not let your hand off the string!”

“Done! It was easy. Now look out for him below!”

The beetle, which he let to go down, was now visible at the end of the string. It shone like a globe of polished gold in the last rays of the setting sun. It hung quite clear of any branches and, if allowed to fall, would feel at our feet. Legrand immediately took the scythe, and cleared with it a circular space, three or four yards in diameter, right under the bug. When he was done, he told Jupiter to let go the string and come down from the tree.

The beetle fell. My friend gently drove a peg at the exact spot it fell. Then he took out a tape from his pocket. He fastened one end of it at that point of the tree, which was nearest the peg. He unrolled the tape until it reached the peg, then, measuring some more fifty feet, went further with it. Jupiter cleared away the blackberry bushes with the scythe. When Lagrand stopped, he drove a second peg. He described a rude circle around it. Then he took himself a spade, gave one to Jupiter and one to me, and ordered us to dig.

The lights were lit, for it became dark, and we started working. I could not help thinking how strange and suspicious we must be looking in the eyes of anyone who, by chance, would see us at that moment.

We dug very steadily for two hours without saying a word; only the dog, which we brought with us, was barking. Its barking became so loud we started worrying it would bring attention from some stragglers nearby. But, in truth, I would be glad at any interruption which could enable me to get the wanderer home. At last, Jupiter tied the dog’s mouth up with one of his suspenders and we got back to work.

We reached a depth of five feet and yet there were no signs of any treasure. I began to hope that the farce[62] was at an end. Legrand, however, insisted to proceed digging. We kept digging and still found nothing. Finally, the gold-seeker clambered from the pit and put his coat on. He was in the bitterest disappointment and I sincerely pitied him. In the meantime I made no remark. Jupiter began to gather up his tools. When it was done, Jup take one of his suspenders off the dog’s mouth and we proceeded towards home.

We made, perhaps, a dozen steps in this direction, when, cursing, Legrand strode up to Jupiter, and seized him by the collar. The astonished negro opened his eyes and mouth, let fall the spades and fell on his knees.

“You scoundrel[63],” said Legrand, hissing out the syllables from between his clenched teeth, “you infernal black villain! Answer me this instant, without prevarication! Which is your left eye?”

“Isn’t this my left eye for certain?!” roared the terrified Jupiter, placing his hand on his right eye.

“I thought so! I knew it! Hurrah!” cried Legrand and let negro go.

“Come! We must go back,” he continued, “the game’s not up yet;” and he again led the way to the tulip-tree.

“Jupiter,” said he, when we reached its foot, “come here! Was the skull nailed to the branch with the face outwards, or with the face to the branch?”

“The face was out so that the crows could get at the eyes without any trouble.”

“Well, then, was it this eye or that through which you dropped the beetle?” Here Legrand touched each of Jupiter’s eyes.

“This eye as you told me,” and here it was his right eye that the negro indicated.

“That will do. We must try it again.”

Here my friend, in whose behavior I started to see certain indications of method, took off the peg, which marked the spot where the beetle fell. Then he moved it to a spot about three inches to the westward of its former position. After that, he took the tape and, continuing the extension in a straight line to the distance of fifty feet, removed, by several yards, from the point at which we dug.

He described a new circle around the new position and we again set to work with the spades. I was dreadfully weary, but, hardly understanding what changed my mind, I did not want to stop. I became interested and even excited. I dug carefully and caught myself actually looking for the imaginary treasure that drove my friend insane.

After an hour and a half, the violent howling of the dog interrupted us again. When Jupiter tried to muzzle[64] it, it furiously resisted. It jumped into the hole and started digging it with its claws.

In a few seconds, we saw a mass of human bones in the hole. They formed two complete skeletons. There were several buttons of metal and what appeared to be the dust of decayed wool. We started to dig more and soon found three or four loose pieces of gold and silver.

Jupiter seemed to be delighted but Legrand looked disappointed. He said we should continue our work. Right at this moment, I stumbled and fell forward because of a large ring of iron that lay half buried in the loose earth.

We worked in intense and after ten minutes we dug up an oblong chest of wood. This box was three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet deep. We tried to lift it but it was too heavy. Luckily the lid was fastened by two weak bolts and we managed to open it. What we saw took our breath away. A treasure of immeasurable value, a confused heap of gold and of jewels, lay gleaming before us.

At last, we collected our thoughts and decided to move the treasure to the hut. It was late and we had little time until morning. It was not an easy task for the chest was extremely heavy. We, finally, lightened the box by removing two thirds of its contents. Then we were able to raise it from the hole. We left the rest among the bushes. The dog stayed to guard it and we hurriedly made for home with the chest. It was one o’clock when we reached the hut. We were worn out and had to rest at least for an hour. We rested until two and had supper. Afterwards we took three big bags and immediately started for the hills. A little before four we arrived at the hole, collected the rest of our treasure and set out back for the hut.

We were exhausted but because of the intense excitement we could not relax. We slept for some three or four hours, then woke up and started examination of our treasure.

The chest was full to the brim. We spent the whole day, and the greater part of the next night, in an examination of its contents. There was no order at all. Everything was heaped in a mess. When we sorted all carefully, we found ourselves even richer than we first thought. In coin there was rather more than four hundred and fifty thousand dollars. There was not a piece of silver. There were coins of many different countries and all of them were gold. There were also a hundred and ten large diamonds, three hundred and ten emeralds and twenty-one sapphires. Besides all this, there was a vast quantity of solid gold ornaments; nearly two hundred massive finger and earrings, thirty rich chains, eighty-three very large and heavy crucifixes and many other things. We estimated the entire contents of the chest, that night, at a million and a half of dollars.

When we finally finished our examination and calmed down, I, dying with impatience, asked Legrand how he found a solution of this most extraordinary riddle.

“You remember” he said, “the night when I handed you the rough sketch I made of the bug. You remember also, that I became quite annoyed at you for insisting that my drawing looked like a skull. Then I remembered the peculiar spots on the back of the insect and admitted to myself that your remark was reasonable. But at first, I was so annoyed that when you handed me the scrap of parchment, I was about to throw it angrily into the fire.”

“The scrap of paper, you mean,” said I.

“No, it only looked like paper. When I started drawing on it, I realized it was a piece of very thin parchment. It was quite dirty, you remember. Well, when I was crumbling it up, I glanced at the sketch and, to my surprise, I saw the dead man’s head. For a moment, I was too much amazed to think with accuracy. I took a candle, and seating myself at the other end of the room, looked at the parchment more closely. I turned it over and saw my own sketch on the reverse. I examined that scrap of parchment very carefully and made sure there could not be a drawing of a skull before. Here was indeed a mystery which I felt it impossible to explain. But something started developing in the corners of my mind. I needed some time alone to think about it all.

“When you left and when Jupiter was asleep, I started a more methodical investigation of the affair. The first question was how the parchment fell into my hands. We discovered the bug on the coast of the mainland, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a short distance above high water mark. When I picked the bug up, it bite me and I dropped it. Jupiter was more cautious. He looked for a leaf or something of that nature by which to take hold of it. It was at this moment that we saw the scrap of parchment, which I then supposed to be paper. It was lying half-buried in the sand, a corner sticking up. Near the spot where we found it, I saw the remnants of the hull of what appeared to be a ship’s long boat. The wreck seemed to be there for a very great while.

“Well, Jupiter picked up the parchment, wrapped the beetle in it, and gave it to me. Soon afterwards we turned to go home, and on the way met Lieutenant G-. I showed him the insect, and he begged me to let him take it to the fort. He put it into his waistcoat pocket without the parchment in which it was wrapped. I continued to hold the parchment in my hand and then, without being conscious of it, I put it in my own pocket.

“You remember that when I went to the table to make a sketch of the beetle, I found no paper where I usually kept it. I looked in the drawer, and found none there. I searched my pockets and my hand fell upon the parchment. I describe in detail how it came into my hands because the circumstances particularly impressed me.

“I saw a kind of connection here. I put together two links of a great chain. There was a boat lying upon a sea-coast, and not far from the boat was a parchment-not a paper-with a skull drawn on it. The skull, or a dead man’s head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate. They raise the flag of the dead man’s in all fights.

“Parchment is durable – almost imperishable. People usually use it if something important needs to be written down and saved for many years. This reflection suggested some meaning in the dead man’s head.

“But,” I interrupted, “you say that the skull was not on the parchment when you made the drawing of the beetle; it appeared after. How then do you trace any connection between the boat and the skull?”

“I remembered clearly every incident that occurred about that period. The weather was chilly (oh rare and happy accident!), and a fire was blazing in the hearth. I was heated with exercise and sat near the table. You, however took your chair close to the chimney. Just as I placed the parchment in your hand, and as you were examining it, Wolf, the Newfoundland, entered, and leaped on your shoulders. With your left hand you petted it while your right hand, that held the parchment, fell between your knees, in close proximity to the fire.

“At one moment I thought the fire caught it, and was about to caution you, but you picked it up and proceeded to examine. When I thought about all these particulars, I realized that heat was the reason the skull appeared on the parchment. There are chemical preparations by which it is possible to write on parchment, so that the characters shall become visible only when close to fire.

“I now looked at the dead man’s head carefully. The edges of the drawing near the edge of the parchment were less distinct that those in its center. It was clear that the action of fire was unequal. I immediately started a fire and put every portion of the parchment near a glowing heat. At the corner of the parchment, diagonally opposite to the spot in which the dead man’s head was placed, the figure of a goat became visible. I looked closer and saw that it was a kid of a goat.

“Ha! Ha!” said I, “Of course I have no right to laugh at you because a million and a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth[65]. But you cannot establish[66] a third link in your chain. There no any special connection between your pirates and a goat. Pirates, you know, have nothing to do with goats.”

“But I just said that the figure was not that of a goat.”

“Well, a kid then – pretty much the same thing.”

“Pretty much, but not exactly,” said Legrand. “You heard of one Captain Kidd? I think the figure of the animal is a kind of signature, because it is placed under the skull. The skull, placed at the corner diagonally opposite, is then a stamp. But I was very put out[67] by the absence of all else – of the text for my context.”

“I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and the signature.”

“Something of that kind. In fact, I had a feeling of some vast good fortune coming. I do not know why. Perhaps, it was rather a desire than an actual belief. But do you know that Jupiter’s silly words about the bug being of solid gold had a remarkable impact on me? Then the series of accidents and coincidences – these were so very extraordinary. Do you understand that if it was not for that rare cold weather I would not have become aware[68] of the dead man’s head?

“But go on; I am all impatience.”

“Well, you heard, of course, the many rumors about money buried somewhere on the Atlantic coast by Kidd and his associates. The rumors existed so long and so continuous it meant only one thing – no one discovered the treasure yet. If Kidd buried it and then dig it out back, those rumors would not exist for so long. It seemed to me that some accident, maybe the loss of a paper indicating the treasure locality, made it impossible for him to find it. Knowing that, his followers were after that treasure. Did you ever heard that someone discovered any important treasure along the coast?”

“Never.”

“But that Kidd’s riches were immense is well known. I took it for granted[69], therefore, that the earth still held them. You will scarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope that the parchment has a lost record of the place of the treasure.”

“But how did you proceed?”

I held the parchment again to the fire but nothing appeared. I now thought it was because the parchment was dirty. I carefully cleared it under warm water and placed it in a tin pan with the skull downwards. Then I put the pan on a furnace of lighted charcoal. To my joy, in a few minutes, I saw some figures on the parchment that were arranged in line. When I took the pan off, the whole was just as you see it now.”

Here Legrand handed me the re-heated parchment. The following characters were rudely traced, in a red tint, between the dead man’s head and the goat:

53‡‡†305))6*;4826)4‡.)4‡);806*;

48†8¶60))85;1‡(;:‡*8†83(88)5*†

46(;88*96*?;8)*‡(;485);5*†2:*‡

(;4956*2(5*-4)8¶8*;4069285);)

6†8)4‡‡;1(‡9;48081;8:8‡1;48†85;

4)485†528806*81(‡9;48;(88;4(‡?3

4;48)4‡;161;:188;‡?;

“But,” said I, returning him the parchment, “I am as much in the dark as ever. I would never be able to solve this riddle.”

“And yet,” said Legrand, “the solution is not as difficult as you might think. As you can see, these characters form a cipher. From what I know of Kidd, I could not suppose him capable of making any of the more complicated cryptographic. I thought that this was of a simple species.”

“And you really solved it?”

“Of course! The first question is in what language the pirate wrote his cipher. The pun upon the word ‘Kidd’ is possible in no other language than the English. Thus, we can assume the cryptograph to be English.

“You can see there is no space between the words. If there was space, I would look for words of a single letter (a or I, for example). But I had to first count how many times each individual character occurs[70]. I made a table:

“Now, in English, the letter e is most frequently used. Then the frequency of letters runs like that: a o i d h n r s t u y c f g l m w b k p q x z. Let us then think of 8 as e.

“Looking at the cipher, we see that doubled e occurs five times. We can meet doubled e in such words as ‘meet,’ ‘fleet,’ ‘speed,’ ‘seen,’ been,’ ‘agree,’ etc.

“If we can find repetitions of any three characters with 8 at the end, they will probably represent the word ‘the’, which is the most usual word in language. There are at least seven such arrangements represented by;48. Thus, is t and 4 is h.

“Let us look at the last but one[71] combination in which;48 occurs. Now let us put in that combination the letters we already know and leave space for the unknown -

t eeth.

“Analyzing the English language, we will not find a six-letter word with ‘the’ at the end. Thus, we have:

t ee.

“The very possible reading of this is the word ‘tree’. Thus we have) as a letter r. Now let us take the combination that starts with the last but one appearance of;48 and ends before the last appearance of;48, and put all known letters in there:

the tree thr #? 3h the.

“Now let us replace the unknown characters with dots:

the tree thr… h the.

“We can guess the word ‘through’ here which gives us three new letters, o, u and g, represented by ‡,?and 3.

“Looking now through the cipher for combinations of known characters, we find this arrangement,

83(88, or egree,

which is obviously the word ‘degree’. Now we know that + is the d letter.

“Four letters beyond the word ‘degree,’ we see the combination

;46(;88.

“Translating the known characters, and representing the unknown by dots, as before, we have:

th.rtee.

“We can suggest the word ‘thirteen’, and it gives us two more letters, i and n, represented by 6 and *.

“In the beginning of the cipher we find the combination,

53‡‡†.

“Translating as before, we have:

good,

which assures us that the first letter is A, and that the first two words are ‘A good.’

“It is now time that we arrange our key, as far as discovered,

“5” represents “a”

“†” – “d”

“8” – “e”

“3” – “g”

“4” – “h”

“6” – “i”

“*” – “n”

“‡” – “o”

“(“ – “r”

“;” – “t”.

“I think I said enough to make you believe that the cipher is not so complicated. The full translation looks like this:

“‘ A good glass in the bishop’s hostel in the devil’s seat forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes northeast and by north main branch seventh limb east side shoot from the left eye of the death’s-head a bee line from the tree through the shot fifty feet out[72].’”

“But the message still seems unclear. How is it possible to understand the meaning from all this jargon about ‘devil’s seats,’ ‘death’s heads,’ and ‘bishop’s hotels?’” I said,

“Yes, in this form it is unclear. First, I tried to divide the sentence into the natural division.”

“You mean, to punctuate it?”

“Something of that kind.”

“But how was that helpful?”

“After analyzing the cipher, I made the division thus: ‘A good glass in the Bishop’s hostel in the Devil’s seat-forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes-northeast and by north-main branch seventh limb east side-shoot from the left eye of the death’s-head-a bee-line from the tree through the shot fifty feet out.’”

“Even this division,” said I, “leaves me still in the dark.”

“It left me also in the dark,” replied Legrand, “for a few days. I went to the neighborhood of Sullivan’s Island and looked for any building which went by the name of the ‘Bishop’s Hostel’. There was none. Then I thought that this ‘Bishop’s Hostel’ might be a reference to an old family, of the name of Bessop. Long time ago, that family had an old house about four miles to the northward of the island. I went there and asked local people if they heard anything about this. At last, one of the oldest women said she heard of such a place as Bessop’s Castle. I paid her so she guided[73] me there; turned out it was not a castle but a high rock.

“The ‘castle’ consisted of irregular collection of cliffs and rocks. At first, I was puzzled. But then my eyes fell on a narrow ledge[74] in the eastern face of the rock. It was about eighteen inches in length and not more than a foot wide. I realized it looked like a chair and now I had no doubts that here was the ‘devil’s seat’.

“I knew the ‘good glass’ meant a telescope, for the word ‘glass’ is rarely used by seamen in any other meaning. I also was sure that the words ‘forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes,’ and ‘northeast and by north,’ were directions for the levelling of the glass. I was very excited by these discoveries, and hurried home to take a telescope and return to the rock with it.

“When I returned, I sat on the ledge and started leveling my telescope. Following the directions from the cipher, I carefully moved my glass, until I saw a white spot in the center of a big tree. Adjusting the focus of the telescope[75], I again looked, and saw it was a human skull.

“The mystery was solved! The phrase ‘main branch, seventh limb, east side,’ could refer only to the position of the skull on that tree. The words ‘shoot from the left eye of the death’s head’ meant I had to drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull; a straight line from the place the bullet would drop at a distance of fifty feet should indicate a definite point. Beneath this point, I supposed, the treasure was buried.

“The main trick is that once you leave ‘the devil’s seat,’ the opening in the tree cannot be seen anymore. Jupiter accompanied me through my whole journey and, for some weeks past, observed my unusual state. But one day I got up before Jupiter, and went into the hills in search of the tree. It was hard but I found it. When I came home at night, Jup was ready to give me flogging. With the rest of the adventure I believe you are as well familiar as myself.”

“I suppose,” said I, “you missed the spot, in the first attempt at digging, because Jupiter let the bug fall through the right instead of through the left eye of the skull.”

“Exactly. But for my deep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere actually buried, we might had all our work in vain.”

“And now there is only one point which puzzles me”, I said. “Why were there two skeletons in the hole?”

“I have no answer to that question but I have a guess. The guess is truly dreadful! It is clear Kidd – if Kidd indeed secreted this treasure, which I am sure of-could not be able to make the whole work alone. He probably had two helpers, and when everything was finished, he decided to remove all participants in his secret. Perhaps a couple of blows with a shovel were sufficient, while his helpers were busy in the pit; perhaps it required a dozen-who shall tell?”

The mask of the Red Death

The “Red Death” devastated the country for a long time. It was the most fatal and fearful sickness to see. Blood was its mark – the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness. Then it was bleeding through the skin. The scarlet[76] stains were all over the body and especially on the face of the victim. This made other people have no sympathy for the victim and be afraid to help. No more than half an hour later, there came death.

But Prospero, the Prince of the country, was happy, fearless and wise. When half of the people on his land died, he moved into his abbey[77] with a thousand strong and light-hearted friends among the knights and dames of his court[78]. The abbey was a big and magnificent construction built in the prince’s own bizarre[79] taste. A strong, high wall circled it. This wall had gates of iron. They brought fire and hammers there, and made the gates closed so firmly that no one could open them. The abbey was full of everything they needed. Here they could forget the sickness. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime, there was no need to grieve, or to think. The prince had all kinds of pleasure: music, dancing, beauty, food and wine. All these and security were within. Outside was the “Red Death.”

It was near the end of their sixth month there when Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball. The ball was of the most unusual magnificence[80].

It was a scene of great richness, that masquerade. Many people dressed in fine clothes with masks on their faces. They danced in seven rooms of the palace. In many old palaces, the doors are left open and it is possible to see all the rooms at the same time. But in Prospero’s palace it was different. After each room there was a turn. In the middle of each wall, was a tall and narrow pointed window. These windows were of colored glass, of the same color as the furnishing in the room. The furnishing of the first, easternmost, room was blue and so was the window. The furnishing in second room was purple, in the third – green, in the fourth – orange, in the fifth – white and in the sixth – violet. The window in each room was in accord with the color of the furnishing in it. And only in the seventh, westernmost room the furnishing was black, while the window was scarlet – a deep blood color. All seven rooms had no lamps or candles in it and the only light was the light from the outside. Outside were the torches, and because of color glass, the light that came through the windows made dancing people look strange and grotesque. In the black room the light was the most fearful and no one was brave enough to enter it.

In this very room stood a gigantic clock of black wood. When it was time to mark the hour the clock rang clear and loud and deep and very musical. But the sound was so strange, that the musicians of the orchestra paused every time they heard it, and there was a brief moment when everyone quieted and seemed confused. Then, when the sound fully ceased, a light laughter at once followed it. Everyone looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and silliness. But it all repeated whenever the clock spoke again.

In spite of these things, it was a great and magnificent ball. The Prince had a fine eye for colors and effects. The dancers wore the strangest yet wonderful costumes. Some could think the Prince was mad because of his unusual taste. His followers felt that he was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be sure that he was not.

With his own unique taste, he designed all seven rooms as well as the costumes of the masqueraders[81]. Be sure they were grotesque. The dancers looked so bizarre that something in their look could even cause disgust. In fact, they looked like the forms we might see in fever dreams[82]. They looked like the dreams themselves. And these – the dreams – danced in and about, spinning around, and the wild music seemed as the echo of their steps. And then the clock strikes again. For a moment, all is still, and all is silent except the voice of the clock. The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the sound dies away and a light laughter follows it as it ceases. The music begins again, and the dreams live and twist around in the colorful rays from the windows. But no one goes into the seventh chamber for the sun goes down and the room is filling with blood-colored light.

The other rooms were crowded. The fun lasted until at length the clock struck midnight. Then the music paused and the dancers quieted again. Before the sound of the clock ceased, people in the crowd saw a masked figure, which escaped attention before. They started talking softly about the figure and finally the feeling of surprise passed into the feeling of horror and disgust.

In a group of such people, only a very strange costume could cause such reaction. There were no limits on the masquerade but that figure went beyond even the prince’s peculiar taste. The figure was tall and very thin, covered from head to foot in burial clothes[83]. His mask looked like a face of a corpse. He went so far that he covered his clothes and his mask with blood to look like a victim of the Red Death.

The figure slowly walked through the crowd. When Prospero saw it, in the first moment, he felt terror, but in the next, he grew red with rage.

“Who dares?” he asked in a low voice, “who dares insult us with this blasphemous[84] mockery? Grab him and pull his mask off so that we know whom we have to hang at sunrise!”

He stood in a blue room as he said these words. His voice sounded loud and clear in all seven rooms for he was a brave and strong man. The music stopped at the waving of his hand. Some of the dancers started to move toward the strange figure but no one was brave enough to grab him. The figure slowly and freely walked through the blue room to the purple – through the purple to the green – through the green to the orange – through this again to the white – and to the violet. At this moment, the Prince Prospero, full of rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed to him into the seventh room. No one followed him as everyone stood motionless filled with deadly terror.

The prince had a knife in his hand, and when he approached the figure, he saw his face. There was a sharp cry, the knife dropped on the carpet on which instantly fell prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. The dancers then rushed into the black apartment. The figure stood motionless in the shadow of the wooden clock. When crowd grabbed him, the dancers pulled his mask off. But to their horror, they found out there was nothing underneath.

Now they knew it was the Red Death itself, which came like a thief in the night. One by one the dancers fell, and each died as he fell. Then the fire died. Then the clock died. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death took over all.

The cask of Amontillado[85]

I put up with thousand injuries from Fortunato as best as I could, but when he insulted me, I vowed revenge[86]. You, who know the nature of my soul so well, will not suppose that I voiced a threat. My revenge would be pointless if I get caught. It would also be pointless if the one who has done the wrong[87] does not realize who punishes him.

I gave Fortunato no reason to doubt my good will by neither word nor action. I continued to smile in his face as usually. He had no idea my smile was at the thought of his future death.

Although this Fortunato was a respected and even feared man, he had a weak spot. He thought of himself as very knowledgeable about wine. Few Italians have true knowledge about wine. Mostly, all they can do is to fool the British and Austrian millionaires. Fortunato, like his countrymen, was a quack[88]. But in the matter of old wines he truly knew a lot. I had a taste in the old wines myself, and bought largely whenever I could.

One evening, during the carnival season, I met my friend. He greeted me warmly for he was already drunk. He wore a costume of a court jester – a tight stripped dress and a cap with bells. I was so pleased to see him that I hardly let his hand out of mine.

I said to him: “My dear Fortunato, I am lucky to meet you. Oh, you look so well today! I just bought a cask of what passes for[89] Amontillado, but I’m not sure.”

“How?” said he. “Amontillado? A cask? Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!”

“I’m not sure,” I replied; “and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you. I couldn’t find you, and I was afraid to lose a bargain[90].”

“Amontillado!”

“I’m not sure.”

“Amontillado!”

“And I need to make sure.”

“Amontillado!”

“But I see you’re busy, I am on my way to Luchesi. He is almost as knowledgeable as you. He will tell me-”

“Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from[91] Sherry[92].”

“And yet some fools think that his taste as good as your own.”

“Come, let us go.”

“Where?”

“To your vaults[93].”

“My friend, no. I do not want to bother you. I see you are busy. Luchesi-”

“I’m not busy. Come.”

“My friend, no. It is not that you are busy, but the cold you have. The vaults are damp. The walls there covered with nitrates[94].”

“Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is nothing. Amontillado! They fooled you. And as for Luchesi, he cannot tell Sherry from Amontillado.”

While he spoke, he took my arm. I put a mask of black silk on my face and covered myself with the black cape. Then we hurried to my house.

I knew there is on no one at home. I told my servants to stay in the house while I am out until the morning. But I well knew as soon as I turn my back, they are gone.

I took a torch and gave one to Fortunato, too. We passed down a long and winding staircase. I told him to be cautious as he followed me. Finally, we were down together in the catacombs of the Montresors.

My friend walked unsteady and the bells of his hand constantly rang.

“The cask,” said he.

“It is farther on,” said I; “but look at the white web that gleams from these walls.”

He turned to me and looked into my eyes drunkenly.

“Nitrates?” he asked, at length.

“Nitrates,” I replied. “How long have you had that cough?”[95]

“Ugh! ugh! ugh! – ugh! ugh! ugh! – ugh! ugh! ugh! – ugh! ugh! ugh! – ugh! ugh! ugh!”

My poor friend could not reply for many minutes.

“It is nothing,” he said, at last.

“We have to get back”, I said firmly, “Your health is important. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once I was. People will miss you. As for me, they will not. We will go back. You will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is Luchesi-”

“Enough,” he said; “the cough is nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough.”

“True, true,” I replied. “Indeed, I did not want to bother you, but you should use all proper caution. Take a sip from this bottle of Medoc[96] to ease that tickle in your throat. It will defend us from the damps.”

I gave him the bottle.

“Drink,” I said, presenting him the wine.

He took a sip, then paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.

“I drink,” he said, “to the buried that rest around us.”

“And I to your long life.”

He again took my arm, and we proceeded.

“These vaults,” he said, “are large.”

“The Montresors,” I replied, “were a great and big family.”

“I forget your emblem[97].”

“A huge human foot that crushes a wild snake whose fangs bite in the heel.”

“And the motto[98]?”

“ Nemo me impune lacessit[99].”

“Good!” he said.

The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. We passed through walls of piled bones into the furthest corners of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I grabbed Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.

“The nitrates!” I said. “see, it increases. You cough is getting worse. Come, we will go back, it is too late.”

“It is nothing,” he said; “let us go on. But first, another sip of the Medoc.”

I gave him another bottle of wine, which he emptied at a breath. His eyes flashed with a light. He laughed and threw the bottle up with a hand gesture I did not understand.

I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement – a grotesque one.

“You do not understand?” he said.

“I don’t,” I replied.

“Then you are not of the brotherhood.”

“How?”

“You are not of the masons.”

“Yes, yes,” I said, “yes, yes.”

“You? Impossible! A mason?”

“A mason,” I replied.

“A sign,” he said.

“It is this,” I answered and pulled a trowel[100] from beneath the folds of my cape.

“You’re joking,” he said and made a few steps from me. “But let us proceed to the Amontillado.”

I hid the trowel and we continued our way in search of the Amontillado. In the end of the vaults, there was a small corner, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. Many bones lay there. Fortunato tried to see further in the corner but his torch was dull.

“Proceed,” I said; “the Amontillado is here. As for Luchesi-”

“He is ignorant,” interrupted my friend. He stepped unsteadily forward. I followed him immediately. Just when he reached the extremity of the niche[101], I clamped a chain around his wrist. Then, throwing the chains about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to fix it. He was too much shocked to resist. I took the key and stepped back.

“Once more, let us get back,” I said. “Indeed, it is very damp here. No? Then I must leave you. But I must first to do all that in my power.”

“The Amontillado!” cried my friend still in shock.

“True,” I replied, “the Amontillado.”

As I said these words, I got a bucket of fresh concrete from the pile of bones. With it and with the aid of my trowel, I began to quickly wall up the entrance of the niche.

After some time, when the first row of bricks was ready, I discovered Fortunato became almost sober. I heard a low moaning cry from the depth of the niche. I proceeded my work, some time passed and I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several pleasing minutes. When the wall was almost ready, I paused and sat down upon the bones. I looked into the small hole left in the wall and saw terrified Fortunato.

Suddenly, he started screaming wildly. For a brief moment I trembled. But then I remembered how deep down we were. I replied to his screaming with even louder screaming. Finally, he ceased.

He was silent for a while but then I heard a low laugh, which made my hair move. Then I heard a sad voice that could not belong to the always cheerful Fortunato.

“Ha! ha! ha! – he! he! – a very good joke indeed-an excellent joke. We will laugh long about it later-he! he! he! – over our wine-he! he! he!”

“The Amontillado!” I said.

“He! he! he! – he! he! he! – yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late? Will not they be waiting there, at the carnival, the Lady Fortunato and the rest? Let us be gone.”

“Yes,” I said, “let us be gone.”

“For the love of God, Montressor!”

“Yes,” I said, “for the love of God!”

The silence followed.

I called aloud-

“Fortunato!”

No answer. I called again-

“Fortunato!”

No answer still. I put my torch through the remaining hole and let it fall within. I heard a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick because of the dampness. I hurried to finish my work. When I finished, I moved a pile of bones to their old place against the new burial. For the half of a century no one ever disturbed them. Rest in peace!

The fall of the house of Usher

It was a dull, dark and soundless day in the autumn of the year. The clouds were hanging so low the heavens looked like a low ceiling. I rode all day on horseback through a country with a lifeless atmosphere to find myself, at last, in front of the House of Usher. I do not know why but at the first glimpse of the house, a feeling of deep sadness filled me.

The scene before me was truly depressing. The walls of the house were bleak; the windows looked like vacant[102] eyes. A few old trees looked almost dead. A bitter feeling, that I could not explain came upon me. I paused to think – what was it that so bothered me about the House of Usher?

I knew there are combinations of very simple natural objects that may cause such effect; but at the same time, I felt that the reason of it lay much deeper.

I took my horse to a lake nearby. The atmosphere there was even worse. There was not a sign of life in that lake. It was as dead as the trees near the house and as empty as the windows of the house.

Nevertheless, here I had to spend few weeks. The host of the house, Roderick Usher, was a childhood friend of mine. But the last time we saw each other was many years ago. Needless to say, I was very surprised to receive a letter from him. In this letter, he wrote about his bodily illness and a mental disorder. He wanted me to visit him, as I was his only friend. The manner of the letter was so serious I could not refuse.

Although, we were friends in the childhood, I really knew little of my friend. I knew his family was very old and known for its understanding of all the arts and many kind acts to the poor. I also learned that his family tree went straight with no branches. In other words, the entire family lay in the direct line of descent[103]. When people spoke of the “House of Usher,” they included both the family and the family home.

When I looked at the house again, my feelings of depression grew even stronger. Everything about the house and everything near the house felt dead.

I looked more carefully at the building itself. The walls were covered with fungi. Although the building was very old, no portion of it fell. Some individual stones looked crumbling but, in general, they were fine. Perhaps the careful eye could catch a barely noticeable crack, which made its way from the roof down the wall in a zigzag direction.

I rode over a short bridge to the house. A servant took my horse and I entered. Another servant led me in silence through many dark corridors to the room of his master. While the dark wall coverings and the blackness of wooden floor inside the house were familiar to me since childhood, I could not help but feel strange and uncomfortable. I met a family’s physician on one the stairs. There was something cunning in his face.

The room I came into was very large and high. The windows were long, narrow, and pointed. But they were set so high, they hardly lighted the room. Dark drapes hung upon the walls. The furniture was old and comfortless. Many books and musical instruments lay in disorder about. But even with that, the room looked lifeless. I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.

When I entered, Usher stood from where he sat and welcomed me so warmly that I, at first, could not believe in his sincerity. But his look convinced me otherwise. I looked at him with a feeling half of pity, half of fear. He surely changed dramatically. It was difficult to believe the person before me was that childhood friend of mine. He always had a remarkable face, but now I hardly recognized him. He had light and even pale skin, large eyes full of strange light, beautiful but thin lips, a well-shaped nose and hair soft like a web. Something in his appearance was non-human-like. I also noticed something strange in the manner of my friend. I soon realized it was a result of him trying to calm his nervousness. I was prepared for something like this by his letter and partly by remembering him as a boy. His actions were first quick, and then slow. His voice was first trembling, and then it changed to a strong and perfectly controlled manner.

In that strange manner, he spoke of the purpose of my visit, of his desire to see me, and of help he expected me to give him. He told me, at length, what he believed to be the nature of his illness. He said it was a family disease, for which he despaired to find a cure. He immediately added that it was a simple nervous disorder and would pass soon. It showed itself in many unnatural feelings; some of them were beyond my understanding. His senses became extremely acute. He could only eat tasteless food; he could wear only clothes of certain texture; all flowers smelled too strongly for his nose; even the weakest light hurt his eyes; the only sounds that did not tortured him were the sounds from stringed instruments.

I found him a slave of terror. “I shall die,” said he, “I must die of this fool’s illness. Thus, thus, and not otherwise, I shall be lost. I am scared of the events of the future, not in themselves, but in their results. I feel that the time will soon arrive when I must lose my life in some last struggle with that horrible enemy: FEAR!”

I learned, moreover, another strange feature of his mental condition. He believed that the house with its gray walls is somehow connected to his illness.

He said, however, that much of his gloom was caused by the severe and long-continued illness of his beloved sister. Madeline, his sister, was his last and only relative on earth; his only companion for long years. “Her decease,” he said, with a bitterness, which I can never forget, “would leave him the last of the ancient race of the Ushers.” While he spoke, the lady Madeline passed slowly through a distant part of the room, and, without even noticing me, disappeared. I looked at her with an astonishment and even fear which I could not explain. When she left, my eyes turned to the face of her brother – but he buried his face in his hands, and I could only see tears running down through his thin fingers.

The skills of the family physician were not enough to define the disease of the lady Madeline. She seemed to care about nothing. Her body and her mind were weak, and she often fell into a sleep alike the sleep of the dead. Her brother told me that so far she was not forced to stay in bed; but by the day I arrived, the power of her illness (as her brother told me) was too strong for her. I realized that the glimpse I took of her that evening would be probably the last one. The lady, at least while living, would be seen by me no more.

For several days, her name was unmentioned by either Usher or myself. During this period, I was trying to ease the melancholy of my friend. We painted and read together; or I listened, as if in a dream, to the wild music he played on his guitar. As closer we get, the more I realized all my attempts to cheer him up were hopeless. His mind was still in gloom.

I will always remember the many hours I spent alone with the master of the House of Usher. Yet I would fail to give an idea of the character of what we did together. His strange music will ring forever in my ears. The paintings, which he made, made me tremble. To describe them, any written words would not be enough. If ever a man painted an idea, that man was Roderick Usher. For me at least his abstract paintings represented feelings of fear and wonder.

One of his strange paintings may be described, although weakly, in words. It was a small picture of a tunnel with no end. The walls there were low, smooth, white, and plain. This place was similar to that where the dead might be placed. It also seemed as if that tunnel was at a great depth below the surface of the earth. There was no fire, yet the tunnel was full of a bright and horrific light.

I already mentioned that Usher could tolerate almost no music because of his illness. Only few notes of stringed instruments were pleasant to his ears. That was probably a reason of the fantastic character of his performances. Not only he played long improvised requiems, but he also added lyrics to them. The words of one of these songs I still remember. Listening to them, I saw, for the first time, that Usher knew very well that his mind was weakening. The song was called “The Haunted Palace”.

This song was about a palace that stood in a green and bright valley. Yellow banners floated on its roof just like hair floats around head. In that house, angels lived. Through two windows, travelers could hear happy music and watch dancing angels who praised the ruler of the valley on his throne. The palace door was of the richest materials, in red and white. Through it came other angels whose only duty was to sing in their beautiful voices about how wise their ruler was.

But something bad happened. Darkness fell upon the palace; the music there became strange, angels danced no more, and the door lost its color.

A strange idea was born in our discussion with Usher of that song. He strongly believed that all things had mind. Moreover, he believed that all plants that grew around the house and even the grey stones of the house had power over him. He explained that the decayed trees around and fungi on the grey stones of the building poisoned the atmosphere and made him what he is.

The books that we read were of the same wild character. There were Machiavelli, Gresset and other famous authors. He spend hours reading them. One of his favorite books was an ancient manual of a forgotten church, containing the Watch over the Dead[104].

At last, one evening he told me that the lady Madeline died. He wanted to place her corpse for two weeks (before he buried her) in one of the many vaults below the house. The reason for this was (so he told me) his fear that because of her unusual disease someone could steal her body to a medical school. Remembering the weird impression from the person I met on the staircase, on the day of my arrival at the house, I thought of this precaution as harmless and natural.

We two carried her body in a coffin to the vault. The vault was small, damp, and very dark. We placed her right beneath that portion of the building in which was my own sleeping apartment. Before the lid of the coffin was closed, I looked on the face of the lady Madeline. A striking similarity between the brother and sister caught my attention; Usher, as reading my thoughts, told me they were twins, born on the same day. Now I understood the natural and strong tie that held them together.

We looked down at the dead face one last time. I could not help but have a strange feeling she was not dead but asleep. Her cheeks were still rose and her lips were in the shape of a smile. We replaced and screwed down the lid. As the heavy iron door of the vault was locked behind our backs, we returned into hardly less gloomy apartments of the upper portion of the house.

After several days of bitter grief, I noticed changes in my friend’s mental disorder. His usual manner vanished. He stopped doing things he used to do. He walked from room to room in hurried steps. His voice sounded weak; the shining in his eyes was gone, and his face was even paler than before. Sometimes he sat looking at nothing for hours, as if listening to some imaginary sound. Eventually I myself started feeling his condition gaining power over me.

I experienced the full power of such feelings in the night of the seventh or eighth day after the lady Madeline’s death. Sleep did not come while the hours passed. I felt nervous and could not reason why. I tried to convince myself it was because of the gloomy furniture of the room. But my efforts were fruitless[105]. A trembling filled my body.

I sat up, and, looking into the darkness of my room, listened to some low and indefinite sounds, which came through the pauses of the storm. I felt I would not be able to sleep and threw on my clothes. Trying to calm myself, I started walking back and forth through the room.

Soon I heard a slight step near my door. I recognized it as that of Usher. In an instant, he opened the door of my room and entered, bearing a lamp. Something weird was in his appearance. As usual, he was deadly white, but in his eye was an insane shine. His look scared me but I preferred his company rather than staying alone. “And you did not see it?” he said. He hurried to one of the windows and opened it to the storm.

The wind that burst into the room almost lifted us from our feet. It was, indeed, a stormy, beautiful and strange night. The clouds covered the sky tightly and we could not see the moon. But everything under those heavy clouds was glowing in the unnatural light.

“You must not – you shall not look out at this!” said I to Usher, as I led him, with a gentle violence, from the window to a seat. “That strange light is probably caused by some electrical phenomena. Let us close the windows; the air is cold. Here is one of your favorite stories. I will read, and you shall listen. And so we will pass away this terrible night together.”

The old book I grabbed was not a good one; it also was not Usher’s favorite but it was, however, the only book immediately at hand. I started reading it and he seemed to listen quietly.

I came to a part of the story in which a strong man breaks a wooden door down. The sounds of breaking wood were heard throughout the forest. And here I stopped as it seemed to me that some similar sounds inside the house were heard, too. I continued reading. I read how the man entered through a broken door, found a dragon there and fought him. He killed the dragon and it fell with a loud, horrific cry. Here I stopped again. Now I was sure I heard a noise in the house similar to that cry I just read about. Extreme terror filled me but I tried to control myself so that my friend would see nothing of what I felt. I was not sure of he heard those noises, although something in his behavior changed. I could not see him well because he moved his chair to sit with his face to the door of the room. I saw that his lips were moving as he was talking to himself. His head dropped upon his breast, yet I knew he was not asleep, for his eyes were opened widely. I decided to continue reading.

I quickly came to a part of the story where a heavy piece of iron fell on a stone floor with a terrible ringing sound.

Just as I said these words I heard clearly, but from far away, a ringing sound. I jumped to my feet while Usher stayed motionless. I rushed to the chair in which he sat. He stared before him and, as I placed my hand on his shoulder, I felt that he was trembling. A sickly smile was on his face. I saw that he spoke in a low and hurried murmur.

“Yes! I hear it. And I heard it before. Long-long-long-many minutes, many hours, many days, I heard it. But I did not dare to speak! Oh, what have I done[106]! We put her living in the tomb! I heard her weak movements in the hollow coffin. I heard them-many, many days ago-yet I did not dare to speak! And now, that story; the sounds were hers! Oh, where shall I run? She is coming. Coming to ask me why I put her in the coffin! I hear the heavy and horrible beating of her heart. Madman!”

He sprang furiously to his feet and cried – “Madman! I tell you that she now stands at the door!”

The door, at which he pointed, slowly opened. It was the work of the wind-but then without those doors there did stand the tall figure of the lady Madeline of Usher. There was blood on her white dress, and the evidence of her terrible efforts to escape. For a moment, she trembled, and then, with a low cry, fell heavily on her brother; as she died at last, she carried him down with her, on the floor. Now he was dead too.

I rushed from the room. I ran from the house. The storm was still around me when I crossed the bridge. Suddenly I saw a wild light. I turned to see where it came from, and saw that the light was that of the full moon. It shone through that crack on the wall of the house. Then only a little crack, it now widened as I watched. I saw the great walls falling apart. There was a long shouting sound like the voice of a thousand waters. The deep black lake closed darkly over the fragments of the “House of Usher.”

Exercises

1. What tool did the ape use when it killed Mrs. L’Espanaye in The Murders In The Rue Morgue?

a) a knife

b) a razor

c) a hammer

2. What language the ape spoke?

a) Russian

b) French

c) none; people mistook its sounds for a human language

3. What was the reason for the main character of The Tell-Tale Heart to kill the old man?

a) hatred

b) robbery

c) the old man’s eye that looked evil

4. Is the main character of The Tell-Tale Heart a man or a woman?

a) a man

b) a woman

c) unknown

5. What did main character of William Wilson want from other people when he was younger?

a) he wanted everyone to leave him alone

b) he wanted everyone to be around him

c) he wanted everyone to do things his way

6. What did he think of the other boy with his same name?

a) he was afraid of him

b) he did not care about him

c) he liked him

7. What is the reason the main character of The Cask Of Amontillado gave for going into the cellar?

a) he wanted to show Fortunato the graves of his family

b) he wanted him to taste some new wine

c) he wanted to gift him some wine

8. What made the main character of The Fall of the House of Usher feel afraid when looking at the House of Usher?

a) he could not explain

b) he saw a ghost

c) he heard some screams

9. Why he visited Usher?

a) Usher sent a letter saying he is in danger

b) Usher sent a letter saying he felt lonely

c) Usher sent a letter saying he was sick

10. What was the Usher family famous for?

a) making arts and helping poor people

b) understanding arts and helping poor people

c) helping poor people

The keys:

1) b

2) c

3) c

4) c

5) c

6) a

7) b

8) a

9) c

10) b

Vocabulary

A

a [ǝ] (неопределённый артикль) употр. перед исчисляемым существительным в ед. числе и придаёт ему обобщающее значение: любой, всё равно какой; один

abbey ['æbɪ] n аббатство

able ['eɪb(ǝ)l] adj могущий, способный (что-л. сделать)

above [ǝ'bʌv] adv наверху; prep над; выше

abruptly [ǝ'brǝptlɪ] adv внезапно, резко, отрывисто

absently ['æbs(ǝ)ntlɪ] adv отрешенно, безучастно

absolutely ['æbsǝlu:tlɪ] adv безусловно; совершенно точно, абсолютно

abstract [ǝ'bstrækt] adj абстрактный; n абстракция, отвлеченное понятие

accident [æ'ksɪd(ǝ)nt] n несчастный случай; ошибка

accompany [ǝ'kʌmp(ǝ)nɪ] v сопровождать

account [æ'kaʊnt] v считать за, расценивать; n оценка, отчет

accurate ['ækjʊrǝt] adj точный

accuse [ǝ'kju:z] v обвинять

acknowledɡe [ǝk'nɒlɪʤ] v признавать; сознавать; обращать внимание

acquaint [ǝ'kweɪnt] v знакомить

acquired [ǝ'kwaɪǝd] Past Simple и Past Participle от acquaint

across [ǝ'krɒs] prep через; напротив, поперёк, сквозь

act [ækt] v вести себя, делать вид, играть (роль)

actinɡ ['æktɪŋ] n игра актеров, представление

action ['ækʃ(ǝ)n] n деятельность; действие; поступок

actor [æktǝr] n актер

actress [æktǝres] n актрисса

actually ['ækʧuǝlɪ] adv на самом деле, собственно, если честно

acute [ǝ'kju:t] adj резкий; острый

add [æd] v добавлять

addition [ǝ'dɪʃ(ǝ)n] n дополнение, добавление

admit [ǝd'mɪt] v допускать; признавать(ся)

advantaɡe [ǝd'vɑ:ntɪʤ] n преимущество, достоинство

advice [ǝd'vaɪs] n совет

affair [ǝ'feǝ] n дело

afloat [ǝ'flǝʊt] adv на поверхности воды

afraid [ǝ'freɪd] adj испуганный

after ['ɑ:ftǝ] prep позади, затем, впоследствии

afternoon [ɑ:ftǝ'nu:n] n послеполуденное время; день, полдень

afterwards ['ɑ:ftǝwǝdz] adv впоследствии, позже, после

aɡain [ǝ'ɡen] adv снова, опять

aɡainst [ǝ'ɡeɪnst] prep против, вопреки, на фоне

aɡility [ǝ'ʤlɪtɪ] n быстрота; живость

aɡo [ǝ'ɡǝʊ] adv тому назад

aɡony ['æɡǝnɪ] n мучение; страдание; агония

aɡree [ǝ'ɡri:] v соглашаться, уславливаться о чем-либо

air [eǝ] n воздух

alarm [ǝ'lɑ:m] n тревога; сигнал тревоги; vтревожить; волновать

ale [eɪl] n эль, светлое пиво

alert [ǝ'lɜ:t] n тревога; adj настороженный; v предупреждать, объявлять тревогу

alive [ǝ'laɪv] adj живой, бодрый, энергичный

allow [ǝ'laʊ] v позволять; разрешать

allusion [ǝ'lu:ʒ(ǝ)n] n намек, отсылка

almost ['ɔ:lmǝʊst] adv почти, практически, едва не

alone [ǝ'lǝʊn] adj один, одинокий

alonɡ [ǝ'lɒŋ] prep вдоль, вместе с

already [ɔ:l'redɪ] adv ранее, даже, уже

also ['ɔ:lsǝʊ] adv тоже; также

altoɡether [ɔ:ltǝ'ɡeðǝ] adv в общем, в целом

always ['ɔ:lweɪz] adv навсегда, всегда

amazed [ǝ'meɪzd] adj изумлённый; поражённый

amid [ǝmɪd] prep между, среди

amonɡ [ǝ'mʌŋ] prep между, среди

amuse [ǝ'mju:z] v развлекать; забавлять

amused [ǝ'mju:zd] Past Simple и Past Participle от amuse

ancestor ['ænsestǝ] n предок

ancient ['eɪnʃ(ǝ)nt] adj древний

anɡer ['æŋɡǝ] n гнев, злость; v злить

announce [ǝ'naʊns] v объявлять

annoy [ǝ'nɔɪ] v досаждать, надоедать

another [ǝ'nʌðǝ] adj другой

answer ['ɑ:nsǝ] n ответ, v отвечать

antaɡonism [æn'tæɡǝnɪz(ǝ)m] n враждебность, неприятие

antiquated [æn'tɪkweɪtɪd] adj устарелый, старомодный

anxiety [æŋ'zaɪǝtɪ] n беспокойство; тревога; волнение

anxious ['æŋkʃǝs] adj озабоченный; беспокоящийся; волнующийся; взволнованный

anyhow ['enɪhaʊ] adv как-нибудь

anyone ['enɪwʌn] n кто-нибудь, кто-либо

anythinɡ ['enɪθɪŋ] n amp;pron что-нибудь; что-либо

apart [ǝ'pɑ:t] adv в стороне; в сторону; отдельно, врозь, порознь

apartment [ǝ'pɑ:tm(ǝ)nt] n квартира; комната

apathy ['æpǝθɪ] n апатия

ape [eɪp] n обезьяна

apoloɡy [ǝ'pɒlǝʤɪ] n извинение

apothecary [ǝ'pɒθ(ǝ)k(ǝ)rɪ] n фармацевт, владелец аптеки

appall [ǝ'pɔ:l] v пугать

apparently [ǝ'pær(ǝ)ntlɪ] adv по-видимому, скорее всего

appear [ǝ'pɪǝ] v показываться, появляться, казаться

appearance [ǝ'pɪǝrǝns] n вид, наружность, внешность; внешний вид; появление

appreciate [ǝ'pri:ʃɪeɪt] v оценивать; (высоко) ценить

approach [ǝ'prǝʊʧ] n подход; v приближаться; подходить

aquarium ['ækwærɪǝm] n аквариум

archbishop [ɑ:ʧbɪʃǝp] n архиепископ

arɡue ['ɑ:ɡju:] v обсуждать, спорить

arɡument ['ɑ:ɡjʊm(ǝ)nt] n аргумент; довод; спор

arm [ɑ:m] n рука; v вооружать

armchair ['ɑ:mʧeǝ] n кресло

around [ǝ'raʊnd] adv кругом, вокруг

arranɡement [ǝ'reɪn(d)ʒm(ǝ)nt] n приведение в порядок; приготовление; удобства; договорённость

arrest [ǝ'rest] n арест; задержание; v арестовывать; задерживать

arrive [ǝ'raɪv] n прибывать

art [ɑ:t] n искусство

article ['ɑ:tɪk(ǝ)l] n предмет; изделие; статья

artist ['ɑ:tɪst] n художник

ashamed [ǝ'ʃeɪmd] adj пристыженный; испытывающий стыд

ask [ɑ:sk] v спрашивать; просить

asleep [ǝ'sli:p] adj спящий

associate [ǝ'sǝʊʃɪeɪt] v соединять; связывать

assure [ǝ'ʃʊǝ] v уверять; заверять; убеждаться

astonished [ǝ'stɒnɪʃt] adj удивлённый

atrocious [æ'trǝʃǝs] adj жестокий

attack [ǝ'tæk] n нападение; v нападать

attempt [ǝ'tempt] n попытка; v пытаться

attention [ǝ'tenʃ(ǝ)n] n внимание

attract [ǝ'trækt] v притягивать; привлекать

attraction [ǝ'trækʃ(ǝ)n] n притяжение, тяготение

attractive [ǝ'træktɪv] adj привлекательный, притягательный

avoid [ǝ'vɔɪd] v избегать

away [ǝ'weɪ] adv прочь

awful ['ɔ:fʊl] adj ужасный, страшный

B

baby ['beɪbɪ] n младенец; крошка

back [bæk] n спина; adv назад, сзади

bad [bæd] adj плохой, дурной, скверный

banana [bæ'nænǝ] n банан

bar [bɑ:] n бар; прут (решётки); v запирать на засов; преграждать

bare [beǝ] adj голый; v обнажать; оголять

barɡain ['bɑ:ɡɪn] n сделка, соглашение; v торговаться

basket ['bɑ:skɪt] n корзина, корзинка

bathe [beɪð] n купание; v купаться; окунать; мыться

battle ['bæt(ǝ)l] n битва, сражение; v сражаться

beard [bɪǝd] n борода

beast [bi:st] n животное; зверь

beautiful ['bju:tɪfʊl] adj красивый

beauty ['bju:tɪ] n красота; красавица

because [bɪ'kɒz] conj потому что

become (became, become) [bɪ'kʌm] v становиться

bee [bi:] n пчела

beetle ['bi:t(ǝ)l] n жук

before [bɪ'fɔ:] adv раньше; prep перед, до

befriend [bi:fren(d)] v подружиться, относиться дружески

beɡan [bɪ'ɡæn] Past Simple от beɡin

beɡinninɡ [bɪ'ɡɪnɪŋ] n начало

behaviour [bɪ'heɪvjǝ] n поведение

behind [bɪ'haɪnd] prep за, позади

beinɡ ['bi:ɪŋ] n существо

believe [bɪ'li:v] v верить; думать, полагать

bell [bel] n колокол, колокольчик

belonɡ [bɪ'lɒŋ] v принадлежать

bench [benʧ] n скамейка

benefit ['benɪfɪt] n польза, выгода, преимущество; v приносить пользу; извлекать выгоду

best [best] adj лучший

bet [bet] v биться об заклад; n пари

better ['betǝ] adj лучший, adv лучше

between [bɪ'twi:n] prep между

bewildered [bɪ'wɪldǝd] adj сбитый с толку

beyond [bɪ'jɒnd] adv вдали; вдаль; prep за; после

Bible [baɪb(ǝ)l] n Библия

biɡ [bɪɡ] adj большой, крупный

bird [bɜ:d] n птица

bit [bɪt] n кусок, кусочек; частица

bite (bit, bitten) [baɪt] v кусать

bitter ['bɪtǝ] adj горький

bitterest ['bɪtǝst] превосх. ст. от bitter

black [blæk] adj чёрный; v чернеть

blasphemous [blæsfǝmǝs] adj богохульный

blind [blaɪnd] adj слепой; v ослеплять

blood [blʌd] n кровь

blow (blew, blown) [blǝʊ] n удар; v дуть; взрывать(ся); выбивать

blue [blu:] adj голубой, синий; печальный

boat [bǝʊt] n лодка, шлюпка; судно; корабль

body ['bɒdɪ] n тело

bold [bǝʊld] adj смелый, отважный, решительный

book [bʊk] n книга

born [bɔ:n] to be born – родиться

borrow ['bɒrǝʊ] v заимствовать; занимать

bosom ['bʊz(ǝ)m] n грудь

both [bǝʊθ] pron amp;adj оба; и тот и другой

bother ['bɒðǝ] n беспокойство; хлопоты; v беспокоить, тревожить

bottle-ɡreen ['bɒt(ǝ)l ɡrɪ:n] adj бутылочно-зеленый

boy [bɔɪ] n мальчик; парень

brain [breɪn] n мозг

branch [brɑ:nʧ] n ветвь

brass [brɑ:s] n латунь, жёлтая медь; adj медный

brave [breɪv] adj храбрый, смелый

break (broke, broken) [breɪk] v ломать(ся)

breathless ['breθlɪs] adj задыхающийся, запыхавшийся

bride [braɪd] n невеста

bridɡe [brɪʤ] n мост

briɡht [braɪt] adj светлый, яркий, сияющий

brilliant ['brɪljǝnt] adj блестящий; великолепный; замечательный

brinɡ (brouɡht, brouɡht) [brɪŋ] v приносить; приводить

broad [brɔ:d] adj широкий

broken ['brǝʊk(ǝ)n] Past Participle от break, сломанный, разбитый

bronze [brɒnz] adj бронзовый

brother ['brʌðǝ] n брат

brouɡht [brɔ:t] Past Simple и Past Participle от brinɡ – приносить

brow [braʊ] n бровь, лоб

brown [braʊn] adj коричневый

bruise [bru:z] n рана, синяк

brutal ['bru:tl] adj жестокий

buildinɡ ['bɪldɪŋ] n здание, постройка, строение

built [bɪlt] Past Simple и Past Participle от build

bun [bʌn] n булочка, плюшка; пучок

burɡlary ['berɪɡl(ǝ)rɪ] n кража со взломом

burial ['berɪǝl] n погребение, захоронение; похороны

buried ['berɪd] Past Simple и Past Participle от bury

burn (burnt, burnt) [bɜ:n] v жечь; гореть, пылать, сжигать

bury ['berɪ] v хоронить; зарывать

business ['bɪznɪs] n дело; работа

busy ['bɪzɪ] adj занятый

butler [bʌtlǝ] n дворецкий, лакей

butt [bʌt] v бодать, пинать

button ['bʌt(ǝ)n] n пуговица; v застёгивать

bystander [baɪstændǝ] n свидетель, наблюдатель, прохожий

C

cabin ['kæbɪn] n хижина

cake [keɪk] n торт, пирожное; кекс

calculate ['kælkjʊleɪt] v вычислять; рассчитывать

call [kɔ:l] n зов; v звать, называть; прокричать; навестить

calm [kɑ:m] adj спокойный; v успокаивать(ся)

calmly ['kɑ:mlɪ] adv спокойно

calmness [kɑ:mnɪs] n спокойствие

came [keɪm] Past Simple от come

can [kæn] v мочь

candle ['kænd(ǝ)l] n свеча

cane [keɪn] n трость

cannot = can not

cap [kæp] n шапка; крышка; v покрывать

capable ['keɪpǝb(ǝ)l] adj способный

cape [keɪp] n плащ

captain ['kæptɪn] n капитан

capture ['kæpʧǝ] n поимка, захват; добыча; v брать, взять в плен; захватывать

career ['kerɪǝ] n карьера, успех, профессия

careful ['keǝfʊl] adj осторожный; заботливый, внимательный

carefully ['keǝfʊlɪ] adv осторожно; заботливо, внимательно

careless ['keǝlɪs] adj неосторожный; невнимательный

carpet ['kɑ:pɪt] n ковёр

carry ['kærɪ] v нести

carve [kɑ:v] v вырезать

case [keɪs] n случай, дело

cask [kɑ:sk] n бочонок

cast (cast, cast) [kɑ:st] v бросать

castle ['kɑ:s(ǝ)l] n зáмок

catch (cauɡht, cauɡht) [kæʧ] v ловить

cause [kɔ:z] n причина; v быть причиной; вызывать (что-л.)

caution ['kɔ:ʃ(ǝ)n] n осторожность; v предостерегать

cease [si:s] v прекращать; переставать

ceilinɡ ['si:lɪŋ] n потолок

ceremonial ['serǝmǝnɪǝl] adj церемониальный, обрядовый

certain ['sɜ:t(ǝ)n] adj некий; определённый, несомненный; точный

certainly ['sɜ:t(ǝ)nlɪ] adv несомненно, конечно, наверняка

chain [ʧeɪn] n цепь

chair ['ʧeǝ] n стул

chamber ['ʧeɪmbǝ] n спальня; комната

chance [ʧɑ:ns] n случай; вероятность; шанс; v рискнуть; решиться

chanɡe [ʧeɪnʤ] n перемена; v менять

chaos [keɪǝs] n хаос, неразбериха

chap [ʧæp] n парень; малый

character ['kærǝktǝ] n характер, персонаж

charcoal ['ʧɑ:kǝʊl] n древесный уголь

charm [ʧɑ:m] n шарм; талисман; v очаровывать

chase [ʧeɪs] n погоня, преследование; v гнаться за; преследовать

cheerfully ['ʧɪǝf(ǝ)lɪ] adv бодро, весело; радостно

chest [ʧest] n грудь; сундук

chief [ʧi:f] n глава; adj главный, основной, важнейший

chiefly ['ʧi:flɪ] adv главным образом; в первую очередь

child [ʧaɪld] n ребёнок

children ['ʧɪldr(ǝ)n] n pl дети

chimney ['ʧɪmnɪ] n труба, дымоход

chin [ʧɪn] n подбородок

chinese ['ʧaɪnɪz] adj китайский

chocolate ['ʧɒk(ǝ)lǝt] n шоколад

choleric [kɑ:lǝrɪk] adj раздражительный

Christ [kraɪst] n Христос

Christian [kr'ɪsʧ(ǝ)n] adj христианский; n христианин

chuckle ['ʧʌk(ǝ)l] n сдавленный смешок; v посмеиваться; смеяться

church [ʧɜ:ʧ] n церковь

ciɡar [sɪɡǝ'r] n сигара

ciɡarette [sɪɡǝ'ret] n сигарета

cipher ['saɪfǝ] n шифр, зашифрованный текст

circumstance ['sɜ:kǝmst(ǝ)ns] n обстоятельство, условие

civilian [sɪ'vɪlɪǝn] n гражданин

clamber ['klæmbǝ] v карабкаться

clambered ['klæmbǝd] Past Simple и Past Participle от clamber

clatter ['klætǝ] n грохот; v стучать, греметь

claw [klɔ:] n коготь; v царапать, хватать

claws [klɔ:z] n pl от claw

clean [kli:n] n чистка, уборка; adj чистый; v чистить

clear [klɪǝ] adj ясный; чистый; v прояснять; очищать, освобождать

clearly ['klɪǝlɪ] adv ясно

clerɡyman [klɑʤɪmǝn] n духовное лицо, священник

clever ['klevǝ] adj умный

cliff [klɪf] n утёс, скала

climb [klaɪm] v влезать; взбираться, подниматься

clockwork ['klɒkwɜ:k] n часовой механизм; adj заводной

close [klǝʊz] adv близко; v закрывать

clothes [klǝʊðz] n одежда

cloud [klaʊd] n облако; туча; v затуманивать

clue [klu:] n ключ; догадка

clutch [klʌʧ] v схватить; зажать; держать, сжимать

coast [kǝʊst] n морской берег; побережье

coat [kǝʊt] n пальто; v покрывать

coffee ['kɒfɪ] n кофе

coin [kɔɪn] n монета

coincidence [kǝʊ'ɪnsɪd(ǝ)ns] n совпадение

cold [kǝʊld] adj холодный

colour ['kʌlǝ] n цвет; v красить

column [kɑ:lǝm] n колонна

combine [kǝm'baɪn] n сочетать; объединять

come (came, come) [kʌm] v приходить

commercial [kǝ'mɜ:ʃ(ǝ)l] adj коммерческий, торговый

commit [kǝ'mɪt] v совершать

common ['kɒmǝn] adj обычный; общий; общепринятый

company ['kʌmpǝnɪ] n общество; компания

complain [kǝm'pleɪn] v жаловаться

complete [kǝm'pli:t] adj полный; v завершать

complexity [kǝm'pleksɪtɪ] n сложность

compose [kǝm'pǝʊz] v составлять; сочинять; успокаиваться, собираться

concern [kǝn'sɜ:n] v беспокоить, иметь отношение

condition [kǝn'dɪʃ(ǝ)n] n условие; состояние

confectioner [kǝn'fæʃ(ǝ)nǝ] n кондитер

confidence ['kɒnfɪd(ǝ)ns] n доверие; уверенность

confirm [kǝn'fɜ:m] v подтверждать

confront [kɒn'front] v сталкиваться, противостоять

confused [kǝn'fju:ʒd] adj смущенный, поставленный в тупик

conjure [cǝn(d)ʒ(ǝ)r] v колдовать, показывать фокусы

connection [kǝ'nekʃ(ǝ)n] n связь

considerable [kǝn'sɪd(ǝ)rǝb(ǝ)l] adj значительный

consist [kǝn'sɪst] v состоять; заключаться

consolation [kǝnsǝ'leɪʃ(ǝ)n] n утешение, отрада

constable [kǝn'steɪb(ǝ)l] n констебль (низший полицейский чин)

contain [kǝn'teɪn] v содержать, включать, вмещать

continue [kǝn'tɪnju:] v продолжать(ся)

contrast [kɒntrǝst] n контраст, противоположность; v сопоставлять, сравнивать

conversation [kɒnvǝ'seɪʃ(ǝ)n] n разговор, беседа

convince [kǝn'vɪns] v убеждать

cool [ku:l] adj прохладный; холодный; v охлаждать(ся); успокаивать

corner ['kɔ:nǝ] n угол

corpse [kɔ:ps] n труп

cosmopolitan [kɒsmɔpǝlɪt(ǝ)n] adj многонациональный, космополитичный

costume ['kɒstju:m] n костюм, платье, одежда

count [kaʊnt] n подсчёт; v считать

counter [kaʊntǝr] n прилавок

country ['kʌntrɪ] n страна

county ['kʌntɪ] n графство

course [kɔ:s] n ход, течение

cowardice ['kaʊǝdɪs] n трусость, малодушие

creature ['kri:ʧǝ] n создание, существо

creep (crept, crept) [kri:p] v ползать, красться; подкрадываться, прокрадываться

crew [kru:] n команда; экипаж

crime [kraɪm] n преступление

criminal ['krɪmɪn(ǝ)l] n преступник

cross [krɒs] n крест; v пересекать

crowd [kraʊd] n толпа; v скапливаться; толпиться

crucifix [kru:sɪfɪks] n крест

cruel ['kru:ǝl] adj жестокий

cry [kraɪ] n крик; v кричать, воскликнуть; плакать

cup [kʌp] n чашка; v держать, браться

cupola [kjʊpǝlǝ] n купол

curious ['kjʊǝrɪǝs] adj любопытный

curse [kɜ:s] n проклятие, ругательство; v браниться, наложить проклятие

curve [kɜ:v] n кривая; дуга, изгиб; v сгибать; кривить

curved [kævd] adj кривой; изогнутый

cut (cut, cut) [kʌt] v резать

D

daily ['deɪlɪ] adj ежедневный; adv ежедневно

damaɡe ['dæmɪʤ] n вред, повреждение; ущерб; v наносить урон; повреждать

damnation [dæm'neɪʃ(ǝ)n] n проклятие, погибель

damp [dæmp] n влажность, сырость

dance [dɑ:ns] n танец; v танцевать

dare [deǝ] v отваживаться; сметь; осмеливаться

dark [dɑ:k] n темнота; adj тёмный

darken ['dɑ:k(ǝ)n] v затемнять; темнеть

darkness ['dɑ:knɪs] n темнота

date [deɪt] v проставлять дату, вести начало

dauɡhter ['dɔ:tǝ] n дочь

dawn [dɔ:n] n рассвет

day [deɪ] n день

dead [ded] adj мёртвый

deal (dealt, dealt) [di:l] n уговор; v иметь дело; разбираться

dear [dɪǝ] n милый, возлюбленный, дорогой; adj милый, дорогой

death [deθ] n смерть

debt [det] n долг

decanter [dɪ'kæntǝ] n графин

decay [dɪ'keɪ] n гниение, разложение; v гнить; разлагаться

decayed [dɪ'keɪd] Past Simple и Past Participle от decay

decide [dɪ'saɪd] v решать

decision [dɪ'sɪʒ(ǝ)n] n решение

deck [dek] n палуба

decline [dɪ'klaɪn] v отклонять

deed [di:d] n действие, поступок; подвиг

deep [di:p] adj глубокий

defect [dɪ'fekt] n дефект, изъян

definite ['defɪnɪt] adj определённый; точный, чёткий

deformity [dɪ'fɔ:mɪtɪ] n уродство, безобразность

deɡree [dɪ'ɡri:] n градус; ступень, степень; уровень

deliberately [dɪ'lɪb(ǝ)rǝtlɪ] adv преднамеренно; умышленно; осмотрительно

deliɡht [dɪ'laɪt] n радость; восторг; v доставлять наслаждение/удовольствие

deliver [dɪ'lɪvǝ] v доставлять; освобождать

departure [dɪ'pɑ:ʧǝ] n отъезд, отправление

depleted [dɪ'plɪtɪd] adj истощенный, опустошенный

depth [depθ] n пучина, глубины (океана)

descend [dɪ'send] n спуск; v спускаться

descendinɡ [dɪ'sendɪŋ] V-inɡ от descend

describe [dɪ'skraɪb] v описывать

desire [dɪ'zaɪǝ] n желание, стремление; v желать

destroy [dɪ'strɔɪ] v разрушать, уничтожать

determined [dɪ'tɜ:mɪnd] adj решительный, непоколебимый

devastate ['devǝsteɪt] v опустошать

develop [dɪ'velǝp] v развивать(ся)

Devil ['dev(ǝ)l] n чёрт, дьявол

diamond ['daɪm(ǝ)nd] n алмаз, бриллиант

die [daɪ] v умирать

difficulty ['dɪfɪk(ǝ)ltɪ] n трудность

diɡ (duɡ, duɡ) [dɪɡ] v копать

dinner ['dɪnǝ] n обед; ужин

direction [dɪ'rekʃ(ǝ)n] n направление

directly [dɪ'rektlɪ] adv прямо; тотчас же

dirty ['dɜ:tɪ] adj грязный; пошлый

disappear [dɪsǝ'pɪǝ] v исчезать; пропадать

disappointment [dɪsǝ'pɔɪntmǝnt] n разочарование

discourse ['dɪskɔ:s] n речь, рассуждение; v рассуждать

discover [dɪ'skʌvǝ] v находить; открывать; обнаруживать

disfavor [dɪs'feɪvǝ] n неодобрение, осуждение, неприязнь

disɡust [dɪs'ɡʌst] n отвращение; v внушать отвращение

disobey [dɪsǝ'beɪ] v не повиноваться

disorder [dɪs'ɔ:dǝ] n беспорядок; расстройство, разброд, неурядица; v приводить в беспорядок

dissolute ['dɪsǝlu:t] adj распутный

distant ['dɪstǝnt] adj отдалённый; далёкий; дальний

distinct [dɪ'stɪŋ(k)t] adj внятный, отчётливый; особый; явный

distinɡuish [dɪ'stɪŋɡwɪʃ] v различать; выделять

disturb [dɪ'stɜ:b] v беспокоить, мешать; тревожить

divide [dɪ'vaɪd] v делить; разделять

dizzy ['dɪzɪ] adj чувствующий головокружение

doctor ['dɒktǝ] n доктор, врач

doɡ [dɒɡ] n собака; v выслеживать

doll [dɒl] n кукла

doom [du:m] n рок, фатум, гибель

door [dɔ:] n дверь

doorstep ['dɔ:step] n порог

double [dʌb(ǝ)l] adj двойной; v удваивать

doubt [daʊt] n сомнение; v сомневаться

doubtful ['daʊtfʊl] adj сомнительный, недостоверный

down [daʊn] adv вниз

downward ['daʊnwǝd] adv вниз

dozen ['dʌz(ǝ)n] n дюжина

draɡ [dræɡ] v тащить, волочить

drama ['dræma] n драма (пьеса), трагедия

dramatic [dræmatɪk] adj драматический, театральный

drank [dræŋk] Past Simple от drink

dreadful ['dredf(ǝ)l] adj ужасный

dream [dri:m] n мечта, сон; v сниться; видеть сны

dress [dres] n платье; v одевать(ся)

drink (drank, drunk) [drɪŋk] v пить; n напиток

drop [drɒp] n капля; v падать, ронять

druɡ [drʌɡ] n наркотик, лекарство

drunk [drʌŋk] adj пьяный

dry [draɪ] adj сухой; v сушить

dull [dʌl] adj тусклый, скучный

durable ['djuǝrǝbl] adj надёжный, долговечный

durinɡ ['djʊǝrɪŋ] adv в течение; во время

dust [dʌst] n пыль

duty ['dju:tɪ] n долг, обязанность

dwarf [d'wɔ:f] n гном

E

each ['i:ʧ] pron amp;adj каждый

eaɡerness ['i:ɡǝnɪs] n поспешность; пыл; нетерпеливость

ear [ɪǝ] n ухо

early ['ɜ:lɪ] adj ранний; adv рано

earn [ɜ:n] v зарабатывать

earth [ɜ:θ] n земля

ease [i:z] n лёгкость; v отпускать, облегчаться; переместить; ослаблять

easily ['i:zɪlɪ] adv легко

East [i:st] n amp;adv восток; на восток; к востоку

Eastern [i:st(ǝ)n] adj восточный

easy ['i:zɪ] adj лёгкий

eat (ate, eaten) [i:t] v есть, кушать

echo ['ekǝʊ] n эхо; v вторить эхом

economy [ɪ'kɒnǝmɪ] n экономия, хозяйственность, бережливость

edɡe [eʤ] n грань; край; v двигаться

effect [ɪ'fekt] n результат; эффект

either ['aɪðǝ] pron amp;adj любой; тот или другой

elbow ['elbǝʊ] n локоть; v ударить локтём; пихнуть

eleɡant ['elɪɡ(ǝ)nt] adj элегантный, изящный; изысканный

elephant ['elɪf(ǝ)nt] n слон

else [els] adj amp;adv другой

embroidery [ɪm'brɔɪdǝrɪ] n вышивка

emerald ['emǝrǝld] n изумруд

empty ['emptɪ] adj пустой; v опустошать

end [end] n конец; v заканчиваться

enemy ['enǝmɪ] n враг

enerɡy ['enǝʤɪ] n энергия

enjoy [ɪn'ʤɔɪ] v наслаждаться

enormous [ɪ'nɔ:mǝs] adj громадный, огромный

enouɡh [ɪ'nʌf] adv достаточно

enter ['entǝ] v входить

entertain [entǝ'teɪn] v развлекать; принимать; занимать

entirely [ɪn'taɪǝlɪ] adv полностью; всецело

entrance ['entrǝns] n вход

epic [epɪk] n эпическая поэма; adj эпический, грандиозный

escape [ɪ'skeɪp] n бегство; v избежать, выбраться

especially [ɪ'speʃ(ǝ)lɪ] adv особенно

establish [ɪ'stæblɪʃ] v учреждать; устанавливать; принимать

estimate ['estɪmeɪt] v оценивать

eternal [ɪ'tɜ:n(ǝ)l] adj вечный

even ['i:v(ǝ)n] adj равный; adv даже

eveninɡ ['i:v(ǝ)nɪŋ] n вечер

event [ɪ'ventʊǝlɪ] n событие, происшествие, случай

eventually [ɪ'vent] adv в конце концов, в итоге

ever ['evǝ] adv всегда; когда-либо; вечно

every ['evrɪ] adj каждый, всякий

everybody ['evrɪbɒdɪ] pron каждый; всякий

everywhere ['evrɪweǝ] adv везде, повсюду

evidence ['evɪd(ǝ)ns] n свидетельство, доказательство

evidently ['evɪd(ǝ)ntlɪ] adv очевидно, ясно

evil ['i:v(ǝ)l] n зло; adj злой, дурной; отвратительный, порочный

exactitude [ɪɡ'zæktɪtju:d] n точность, верность

exactly [ɪɡ'zæktlɪ] adv точно

examine [ɪɡ'zæmɪn] v осматривать, рассматривать, изучать

example [ɪɡ'zɑ:mp(ǝ)l] n пример

exasperation [ɪɡ'zæspɪreɪʃ(ǝ)n] n ожесточение, озлобление

excellent ['eksǝlǝnt] adj отличный; великолепный

except [ɪk'sept] adv исключая; кроме

excited [ɪk'saɪtɪd] adj возбуждённый, взволнованный

excitinɡ [ɪk'saɪtɪŋ] adj захватывающий; возбуждающий

excursion [ɪk'skɜ:ʃ(ǝ)n] n экскурсия, обход

exercise ['eksǝsaɪz] n упражнение; v упражняться

exhausted [ɪɡ'zɔ:stɪd] adj изнурённый, истощённый; обессиленный

exhumation [ek'sjʊmǝʃ(ǝ)n] n эксгумация, выкапывание трупа

expense [ɪk'spens] n траты, расходы

expensive [ɪk'spensɪv] adj дорогостоящий, дорогой

experience [ɪk'spɪǝrɪǝns] n опыт

experiment [ɪk'spɪǝrɪm(ǝ)nt] n эксперимент, попытка, проба

explain [ɪk'spleɪn] v объяснять

explanation [eksplǝ'neɪʃ(ǝ)n] n объяснение

explosion [ɪk'splǝʊʒ(ǝ)n] n взрыв

express [ɪk'spres] v выражать

expression [ɪk'spreʃ(ǝ)n] n выражение

extend [ɪk'stend] v протягивать; простираться

external [ɪk'stɜ:n(ǝ)l] adj наружный, внешний

extravaɡant [ɪk'strævǝɡ(ǝ)nt] adj нелепый, сумасбродный, экстравагантный

extremely [ɪk'stri:mlɪ] adv крайне, чрезвычайно

eye [aɪ] n глаз

eyeball [aɪbɔ:l] n глазное яблоко

eyelid [aɪlɪd] n веко