Bot-S: The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe

THE NARRATIVE OF ARTHUR GORDON PYM OF

NANTUCKET

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

PREFACE

UPON my return to the United States a few months ago, after the extraordinary series of
adventure in the South Seas and elsewhere, of which an account is given in the following
pages, accident threw me into the society of several gentlemen in Richmond, Va., who
felt deep interest in all matters relating to the regions I had visited, and who were
constantly urging it upon me, as a duty, to give my narrative to the public. I had several
reasons, however, for declining to do so, some of which were of a nature altogether
private, and concern no person but myself, others not so much so. One consideration
which deterred me was, that, having kept no journal during a greater portion of the time
in which I was absent, I feared I should not be able to write, from mere memory, a
statement so minute and connected as to have the appearance of that truth it would really
possess, barring only the natural and unavoidable exaggeration to which all of us are
prone when detailing events which have had powerful influence in exciting the
imaginative faculties. Another reason was, that the incidents to be narrated were of a
nature so positively marvellous, that, unsupported as my assertions must necessarily be
(except by the evidence of a single individual, and he a half-breed Indian), I could only
hope for belief among my family, and those of my friends who have had reason, through
life, to put faith in my veracity-the probability being that the public at large would regard
what I should put forth as merely an impudent and ingenious fiction. A distrust in my
own abilities as a writer was, nevertheless, one of the principal causes which prevented
me from complying with the suggestion of my advisers.

Among those gentlemen in Virginia who expressed the greatest interest in my statement,
more particularly in regard to that portion of it which related to the Antarctic Ocean, was
Mr. Poe, lately editor of the Southern Literary Messenger, a monthly magazine, published
by Mr. Thomas W. White, in the city of Richmond. He strongly advised me, among
others, to prepare at once a full account of what I had seen and undergone, and trust to the
shrewdness and common sense of the public-insisting, with great plausibility, that
however roughly, as regards mere authorship, my book should be got up, its very
uncouthness, if there were any, would give it all the better chance of being received as
truth.

Notwithstanding this representation, I did not make up my mind to do as he suggested.
He afterward proposed (finding that I would not stir in the matter) that I should allow him
to draw up, in his own words, a narrative of the earlier portion of my adventures, from

facts afforded by myself, publishing it in the Southern Messenger under the garb of
fiction. To this, perceiving no objection, I consented, stipulating only that my real name
should be retained. Two numbers of the pretended fiction appeared, consequently, in the
Messenger for January and February, (1837), and, in order that it might certainly be
regarded as fiction, the name of Mr. Poe was affixed to the articles in the table of
contents of the magazine.

The manner in which this ruse was received has induced me at length to undertake a
regular compilation and publication of the adventures in question; for I found that, in
spite of the air of fable which had been so ingeniously thrown around that portion of my
statement which appeared in the Messenger (without altering or distorting a single fact),
the public were still not at all disposed to receive it as fable, and several letters were sent
to Mr. P.'s address, distinctly expressing a conviction to the contrary. I thence concluded
that the facts of my narrative would prove of such a nature as to carry with them
sufficient evidence of their own authenticity, and that I had consequently little to fear on
the score of popular incredulity.

This expose being made, it will be seen at once how much of what follows I claim to be
my own writing; and it will also be understood that no fact is misrepresented in the first
few pages which were written by Mr. Poe. Even to those readers who have not seen the
Messenger, it will be unnecessary to point out where his portion ends and my own
commences; the difference in point of style will be readily perceived.

A. G. PYM. New- York, July, 1838.
CHAPTER I

MY name is Arthur Gordon Pym. My father was a respectable trader in sea-stores at
Nantucket, where I was born. My maternal grandfather was an attorney in good practice.
He was fortunate in every thing, and had speculated very successfully in stocks of the
Edgarton New Bank, as it was formerly called. By these and other means he had
managed to lay by a tolerable sum of money. He was more attached to myself, I believe,
than to any other person in the world, and I expected to inherit the most of his property at
his death. He sent me, at six years of age, to the school of old Mr. Ricketts, a gentleman
with only one arm and of eccentric manners-he is well known to almost every person
who has visited New Bedford. I stayed at his school until I was sixteen, when I left him
for Mr. E. Ronald's academy on the hill. Here I became intimate with the son of Mr.
Barnard, a sea-captain, who generally sailed in the employ of Lloyd and Vredenburgh-
Mr. Barnard is also very well known in New Bedford, and has many relations, I am
certain, in Edgarton. His son was named Augustus, and he was nearly two years older
than myself. He had been on a whaling voyage with his father in the John Donaldson, and
was always talking to me of his adventures in the South Pacific Ocean. I used frequently
to go home with him, and remain all day, and sometimes all night. We occupied the same
bed, and he would be sure to keep me awake until almost light, telling me stories of the
natives of the Island of Tinian, and other places he had visited in his travels. At last I
could not help being interested in what he said, and by degrees I felt the greatest desire to

go to sea. I owned a sailboat called the Ariel, and worth about seventy-five dollars. She
had a half-deck or cuddy, and was rigged sloop-fashion-I forget her tonnage, but she
would hold ten persons without much crowding. In this boat we were in the habit of
going on some of the maddest freaks in the world; and, when I now think of them, it
appears to me a thousand wonders that I am alive to-day.

I will relate one of these adventures by way of introduction to a longer and more
momentous narrative. One night there was a party at Mr. Barnard's, and both Augustus
and myself were not a little intoxicated toward the close of it. As usual, in such cases, I
took part of his bed in preference to going home. He went to sleep, as I thought, very
quietly (it being near one when the party broke up), and without saying a word on his
favorite topic. It might have been half an hour from the time of our getting in bed, and I
was just about falling into a doze, when he suddenly started up, and swore with a terrible
oath that he would not go to sleep for any Arthur Pym in Christendom, when there was so
glorious a breeze from the southwest. I never was so astonished in my life, not knowing
what he intended, and thinking that the wines and liquors he had drunk had set him
entirely beside himself. He proceeded to talk very coolly, however, saying he knew that I
supposed him intoxicated, but that he was never more sober in his life. He was only tired,
he added, of lying in bed on such a fine night like a dog, and was determined to get up
and dress, and go out on a frolic with the boat. I can hardly tell what possessed me, but
the words were no sooner out of his mouth than I felt a thrill of the greatest excitement
and pleasure, and thought his mad idea one of the most delightful and most reasonable
things in the world. It was blowing almost a gale, and the weather was very cold-it being
late in October. I sprang out of bed, nevertheless, in a kind of ecstasy, and told him I was
quite as brave as himself, and quite as tired as he was of lying in bed like a dog, and quite
as ready for any fun or frolic as any Augustus Barnard in Nantucket.

We lost no time in getting on our clothes and hurrying down to the boat. She was lying at
the old decayed wharf by the lumber-yard of Pankey & Co., and almost thumping her
side out against the rough logs. Augustus got into her and bailed her, for she was nearly
half full of water. This being done, we hoisted jib and mainsail, kept full, and started
boldly out to sea.

The wind, as I before said, blew freshly from the southwest. The night was very clear and
cold. Augustus had taken the helm, and I stationed myself by the mast, on the deck of the
cuddy. We flew along at a great rate-neither of us having said a word since casting loose
from the wharf. I now asked my companion what course he intended to steer, and what
time he thought it probable we should get back. He whistled for a few minutes, and then
said crustily: "I am going to sea-you may go home if you think proper." Turning my eyes
upon him, I perceived at once that, in spite of his assumed nonchalance, he was greatly
agitated. I could see him distinctly by the light of the moon-his face was paler than any
marble, and his hand shook so excessively that he could scarcely retain hold of the tiller. I
found that something had gone wrong, and became seriously alarmed. At this period I
knew little about the management of a boat, and was now depending entirely upon the
nautical skill of my friend. The wind, too, had suddenly increased, as we were fast getting
out of the lee of the land-still I was ashamed to betray any trepidation, and for almost

half an hour maintained a resolute silence. I could stand it no longer, however, and spoke
to Augustus about the propriety of turning back. As before, it was nearly a minute before
he made answer, or took any notice of my suggestion. "By-and-by," said he at length-
"time enough-home by-and-by." I had expected a similar reply, but there was something
in the tone of these words which filled me with an indescribable feeling of dread. I again
looked at the speaker attentively. His lips were perfectly livid, and his knees shook so
violently together that he seemed scarcely able to stand. "For God's sake, Augustus," I
screamed, now heartily frightened, "what ails you?-what is the matter?-what are you
going to do?" "Matter!" he stammered, in the greatest apparent surprise, letting go the
tiller at the same moment, and falling forward into the bottom of the boat-"matter-why,
nothing is the-matter-going home-d-d-don't you see?" The whole truth now flashed upon
me. I flew to him and raised him up. He was drunk-beastly drunk-he could no longer
either stand, speak or see. His eyes were perfectly glazed; and as I let him go in the
extremity of my despair, he rolled like a mere log into the bilge- water, from which I had
lifted him. It was evident that, during the evening, he had drunk far more than I
suspected, and that his conduct in bed had been the result of a highly-concentrated state
of intoxication-a state which, like madness, frequently enables the victim to imitate the
outward demeanour of one in perfect possession of his senses. The coolness of the night
air, however, had had its usual effect-the mental energy began to yield before its
influence-and the confused perception which he no doubt then had of his perilous
situation had assisted in hastening the catastrophe. He was now thoroughly insensible,
and there was no probability that he would be otherwise for many hours.

It is hardly possible to conceive the extremity of my terror. The fumes of the wine lately
taken had evaporated, leaving me doubly timid and irresolute. I knew that I was
altogether incapable of managing the boat, and that a fierce wind and strong ebb tide
were hurrying us to destruction. A storm was evidently gathering behind us; we had
neither compass nor provisions; and it was clear that, if we held our present course, we
should be out of sight of land before daybreak. These thoughts, with a crowd of others
equally fearful, flashed through my mind with a bewildering rapidity, and for some
moments paralyzed me beyond the possibility of making any exertion. The boat was
going through the water at a terrible rate-full before the wind- no reef in either jib or
mainsail-running her bows completely under the foam. It was a thousand wonders she
did not broach to-Augustus having let go the tiller, as I said before, and I being too much
agitated to think of taking it myself. By good luck, however, she kept steady, and
gradually I recovered some degree of presence of mind. Still the wind was increasing
fearfully, and whenever we rose from a plunge forward, the sea behind fell combing over
our counter, and deluged us with water. I was so utterly benumbed, too, in every limb, as
to be nearly unconscious of sensation. At length I summoned up the resolution of despair,
and rushing to the mainsail let it go by the run. As might have been expected, it flew over
the bows, and, getting drenched with water, carried away the mast short off by the board.
This latter accident alone saved me from instant destruction. Under the jib only, I now
boomed along before the wind, shipping heavy seas occasionally over the counter, but
relieved from the terror of immediate death. I took the helm, and breathed with greater
freedom as I found that there yet remained to us a chance of ultimate escape. Augustus
still lay senseless in the bottom of the boat; and as there was imminent danger of his

drowning (the water being nearly a foot deep just where he fell), I contrived to raise him
partially up, and keep him in a sitting position, by passing a rope round his waist, and
lashing it to a ringbolt in the deck of the cuddy. Having thus arranged every thing as well
as I could in my chilled and agitated condition, I recommended myself to God, and made
up my mind to bear whatever might happen with all the fortitude in my power.

Hardly had I come to this resolution, when, suddenly, a loud and long scream or yell, as
if from the throats of a thousand demons, seemed to pervade the whole atmosphere
around and above the boat. Never while I live shall I forget the intense agony of terror I
experienced at that moment. My hair stood erect on my head-I felt the blood congealing
in my veins-my heart ceased utterly to beat, and without having once raised my eyes to
learn the source of my alarm, I tumbled headlong and insensible upon the body of my
fAUan companion.

I found myself, upon reviving, in the cabin of a large whaling-ship (the Penguin) bound
to Nantucket. Several persons were standing over me, and Augustus, paler than death,
was busily occupied in chafing my hands. Upon seeing me open my eyes, his
exclamations of gratitude and joy excited alternate laughter and tears from the rough-
looking personages who were present. The mystery of our being in existence was now
soon explained. We had been run down by the whaling-ship, which was close-hauled,
beating up to Nantucket with every sail she could venture to set, and consequently
running almost at right angles to our own course. Several men were on the look-out
forward, but did not perceive our boat until it was an impossibility to avoid coming in
contact-their shouts of warning upon seeing us were what so terribly alarmed me. The
huge ship, I was told, rode immediately over us with as much ease as our own little vessel
would have passed over a feather, and without the least perceptible impediment to her
progress. Not a scream arose from the deck of the victim-there was a slight grating sound
to be heard mingling with the roar of wind and water, as the frail bark which was
swallowed up rubbed for a moment along the keel of her destroyer-but this was all.
Thinking our boat (which it will be remembered was dismasted) some mere shell cut
adrift as useless, the captain (Captain E. T. V. Block, of New London) was for
proceeding on his course without troubling himself further about the matter. Luckily,
there were two of the look-out who swore positively to having seen some person at our
helm, and represented the possibility of yet saving him. A discussion ensued, when Block
grew angry, and, after a while, said that "it was no business of his to be eternally
watching for egg-shells; that the ship should not put about for any such nonsense; and if
there was a man run down, it was nobody's fault but Henderson, the first mate, now took
the matter up, being justly indignant, as well as the whole ship's crew, at a speech
evincing so base a degree of heartless atrocity. He spoke plainly, seeing himself upheld
by the men, told the captain he considered him a fit subject for the gallows, and that he
would disobey his orders if he were hanged for it the moment he set his foot on shore. He
strode aft, jostling Block (who turned pale and made no answer) on one side, and seizing
the helm, gave the word, in a firm voice, Hard-a-lee! The men flew to their posts, and the
ship went cleverly about. All this had occupied nearly five minutes, and it was supposed
to be hardly within the bounds of possibility that any individual could be saved-allowing
any to have been on board the boat. Yet, as the reader has seen, both Augustus and

myself were rescued; and our deliverance seemed to have been brought about by two of
those almost inconceivable pieces of good fortune which are attributed by the wise and
pious to the special interference of Providence.

While the ship was yet in stays, the mate lowered the jolly-boat and jumped into her with
the very two men, I believe, who spoke up as having seen me at the helm. They had just
left the lee of the vessel (the moon still shining brightly) when she made a long and heavy
roll to windward, and Henderson, at the same moment, starting up in his seat bawled out
to his crew to back water. He would say nothing else-repeating his cry impatiently, back
water! black water! The men put back as speedily as possible, but by this time the ship
had gone round, and gotten fully under headway, although all hands on board were
making great exertions to take in sail. In despite of the danger of the attempt, the mate
clung to the main-chains as soon as they came within his reach. Another huge lurch now
brought the starboard side of the vessel out of water nearly as far as her keel, when the
cause of his anxiety was rendered obvious enough. The body of a man was seen to be
affixed in the most singular manner to the smooth and shining bottom (the Penguin was
coppered and copper- fastened), and beating violently against it with every movement of
the hull. After several ineffectual efforts, made during the lurches of the ship, and at the
imminent risk of swamping the boat I was finally disengaged from my perilous situation
and taken on board-for the body proved to be my own. It appeared that one of the timber-
bolts having started and broken a passage through the copper, it had arrested my progress
as I passed under the ship, and fastened me in so extraordinary a manner to her bottom.
The head of the bolt had made its way through the collar of the green baize jacket I had
on, and through the back part of my neck, forcing itself out between two sinews and just
below the right ear. I was immediately put to bed-although life seemed to be totally
extinct. There was no surgeon on board. The captain, however, treated me with every
attention-to make amends, I presume, in the eyes of his crew, for his atrocious behaviour
in the previous portion of the adventure.

In the meantime, Henderson had again put off from the ship, although the wind was now
blowing almost a hurricane. He had not been gone many minutes when he fell in with
some fragments of our boat, and shortly afterward one of the men with him asserted that
he could distinguish a cry for help at intervals amid the roaring of the tempest. This
induced the hardy seamen to persevere in their search for more than half an hour,
although repeated signals to return were made them by Captain Block, and although
every moment on the water in so frail a boat was fraught to them with the most imminent
and deadly peril. Indeed, it is nearly impossible to conceive how the small jolly they were
in could have escaped destruction for a single instant. She was built, however, for the
whaling service, and was fitted, as I have since had reason to believe, with air-boxes, in
the manner of some life-boats used on the coast of Wales.

After searching in vain for about the period of time just mentioned, it was determined to
get back to the ship. They had scarcely made this resolve when a feeble cry arose from a
dark object that floated rapidly by. They pursued and soon overtook it. It proved to be the
entire deck of the Ariel's cuddy. Augustus was struggling near it, apparently in the last
agonies. Upon getting hold of him it was found that he was attached by a rope to the

floating timber. This rope, it will be remembered, I had myself tied around his waist, and
made fast to a ringbolt, for the purpose of keeping him in an upright position, and my so
doing, it appeared, had been ultimately the means of preserving his life. The Ariel was
slightly put together, and in going down her frame naturally went to pieces; the deck of
the cuddy, as might have been expected, was lifted, by the force of the water rushing in,
entirely from the main timbers, and floated (with other fragments, no doubt) to the
surface-Augustus was buoyed up with it, and thus escaped a terrible death.

It was more than an hour after being taken on board the Penguin before he could give any
account of himself, or be made to comprehend the nature of the accident which had
bef Allan our boat. At length he became thoroughly aroused, and spoke much of his
sensations while in the water. Upon his first attaining any degree of consciousness, he
found himself beneath the surface, whirling round and round with inconceivable rapidity,
and with a rope wrapped in three or four folds tightly about his neck. In an instant
afterward he felt himself going rapidly upward, when, his head striking violently against
a hard substance, he again relapsed into insensibility. Upon once more reviving he was in
fuller possession of his reason-this was still, however, in the greatest degree clouded and
confused. He now knew that some accident had occurred, and that he was in the water,
although his mouth was above the surface, and he could breathe with some freedom.
Possibly, at this period the deck was drifting rapidly before the wind, and drawing him
after it, as he floated upon his back. Of course, as long as he could have retained this
position, it would have been nearly impossible that he should be drowned. Presently a
surge threw him directly athwart the deck, and this post he endeavored to maintain,
screaming at intervals for help, just before he was discovered by Mr. Henderson, he had
been obliged to relax his hold through exhaustion, and, falling into the sea, had given
himself up for lost. During the whole period of his struggles he had not the faintest
recollection of the Ariel, nor of the matters in connexion with the source of his disaster. A
vague feeling of terror and despair had taken entire possession of his faculties. When he
was finally picked up, every power of his mind had failed him; and, as before said, it was
nearly an hour after getting on board the Penguin before he became fully aware of his
condition. In regard to myself-I was resuscitated from a state bordering very nearly upon
death (and after every other means had been tried in vain for three hours and a half) by
vigorous friction with flannels bathed in hot oil-a proceeding suggested by Augustus.
The wound in my neck, although of an ugly appearance, proved of little real
consequence, and I soon recovered from its effects.

The Penguin got into port about nine o'clock in the morning, after encountering one of
the severest gales ever experienced off Nantucket. Both Augustus and myself managed to
appear at Mr. Barnard's in time for breakfast-which, luckily, was somewhat late, owing
to the party over night. I suppose all at the table were too much fatigued themselves to
notice our jaded appearance-of course, it would not have borne a very rigid scrutiny.
Schoolboys, however, can accomplish wonders in the way of deception, and I verily
believe not one of our friends in Nantucket had the slightest suspicion that the terrible
story told by some sailors in town of their having run down a vessel at sea and drowned
some thirty or forty poor devils, had reference either to the Ariel, my companion, or
myself. We two have since very frequently talked the matter over-but never without a

shudder. In one of our conversations Augustus frankly confessed to me, that in his whole
life he had at no time experienced so excruciating a sense of dismay, as when on board
our little boat he first discovered the extent of his intoxication, and felt himself sinking
beneath its influence.

CHAPTER II

In no affairs of mere prejudice, pro or con, do we deduce inferences with entire certainty,
even from the most simple data. It might be supposed that a catastrophe such as I have
just related would have effectually cooled my incipient passion for the sea. On the
contrary, I never experienced a more ardent longing for the wild adventures incident to
the life of a navigator than within a week after our miraculous deliverance. This short
period proved amply long enough to erase from my memory the shadows, and bring out
in vivid light all the pleasurably exciting points of color, all the picturesqueness, of the
late perilous accident. My conversations with Augustus grew daily more frequent and
more intensely full of interest. He had a manner of relating his stories of the ocean (more
than one half of which I now suspect to have been sheer fabrications) well adapted to
have weight with one of my enthusiastic temperament and somewhat gloomy although
glowing imagination. It is strange, too, that he most strongly enlisted my feelings in
behalf of the life of a seaman, when he depicted his more terrible moments of suffering
and despair. For the bright side of the painting I had a limited sympathy. My visions were
of shipwreck and famine; of death or captivity among barbarian hordes; of a lifetime
dragged out in sorrow and tears, upon some gray and desolate rock, in an ocean
unapproachable and unknown. Such visions or desires-for they amounted to desires-are
common, I have since been assured, to the whole numerous race of the melancholy
among men-at the time of which I speak I regarded them only as prophetic glimpses of a
destiny which I felt myself in a measure bound to fulfil. Augustus thoroughly entered into
my state of mind. It is probable, indeed, that our intimate communion had resulted in a
partial interchange of character.

About eighteen months after the period of the Ariel's disaster, the firm of Lloyd and
Vredenburgh (a house connected in some manner with the Messieurs Enderby, I believe,
of Liverpool) were engaged in repairing and fitting out the brig Grampus for a whaling
voyage. She was an old hulk, and scarcely seaworthy when all was done to her that could
be done. I hardly know why she was chosen in preference to other good vessels
belonging to the same owners-but so it was. Mr. Barnard was appointed to command her,
and Augustus was going with him. While the brig was getting ready, he frequently urged
upon me the excellency of the opportunity now offered for indulging my desire of travel.
He found me by no means an unwilling listener-yet the matter could not be so easily
arranged. My father made no direct opposition; but my mother went into hysterics at the
bare mention of the design; and, more than all, my grandfather, from whom I expected
much, vowed to cut me off with a shilling if I should ever broach the subject to him
again. These difficulties, however, so far from abating my desire, only added fuel to the
flame. I determined to go at all hazards; and, having made known my intentions to
Augustus, we set about arranging a plan by which it might be accomplished. In the
meantime I forbore speaking to any of my relations in regard to the voyage, and, as I

busied myself ostensibly with my usual studies, it was supposed that I had abandoned the
design. I have since frequently examined my conduct on this occasion with sentiments of
displeasure as well as of surprise. The intense hypocrisy I made use of for the furtherance
of my project-an hypocrisy pervading every word and action of my life for so long a
period of time-could only have been rendered tolerable to myself by the wild and burning
expectation with which I looked forward to the fulfilment of my long-cherished visions
of travel.

In pursuance of my scheme of deception, I was necessarily obliged to leave much to the
management of Augustus, who was employed for the greater part of every day on board
the Grampus, attending to some arrangements for his father in the cabin and cabin hold.
At night, however, we were sure to have a conference and talk over our hopes. After
nearly a month passed in this manner, without our hitting upon any plan we thought
likely to succeed, he told me at last that he had determined upon everything necessary. I
had a relation living in New Bedford, a Mr. Ross, at whose house I was in the habit of
spending occasionally two or three weeks at a time. The brig was to sail about the middle
of June (June, 1827), and it was agreed that, a day or two before her putting to sea, my
father was to receive a note, as usual, from Mr. Ross, asking me to come over and spend
a fortnight with Robert and Emmet (his sons). Augustus charged himself with the inditing
of this note and getting it delivered. Having set out as supposed, for New Bedford, I was
then to report myself to my companion, who would contrive a hiding-place for me in the
Grampus. This hiding-place, he assured me, would be rendered sufficiently comfortable
for a residence of many days, during which I was not to make my appearance. When the
brig had proceeded so far on her course as to make any turning back a matter out of
question, I should then, he said, be formally installed in all the comforts of the cabin; and
as to his father, he would only laugh heartily at the joke. Vessels enough would be met
with by which a letter might be sent home explaining the adventure to my parents.

The middle of June at length arrived, and every thing had been matured. The note was
written and delivered, and on a Monday morning I left the house for the New Bedford
packet, as supposed. I went, however, straight to Augustus, who was waiting for me at
the corner of a street. It had been our original plan that I should keep out of the way until
dark, and then slip on board the brig; but, as there was now a thick fog in our favor, it
was agreed to lose no time in secreting me. Augustus led the way to the wharf, and I
followed at a little distance, enveloped in a thick seaman's cloak, which he had brought
with him, so that my person might not be easily recognized, just as we turned the second
comer, after passing Mr. Edmund's well, who should appear, standing right in front of
me, and looking me full in the face, but old Mr. Peterson, my grandfather. "Why, bless
my soul, Gordon," said he, after a long pause, "why, why,-whose dirty cloak is that you
have on?" "Sir!" I replied, assuming, as well as I could, in the exigency of the moment,
an air of offended surprise, and talking in the gruffest of all imaginable tones-"sir! you
are a sum'mat mistaken-my name, in the first place, bee'nt nothing at all like Goddin, and
I'd want you for to know better, you blackguard, than to call my new obercoat a darty
one." For my life I could hardly refrain from screaming with laughter at the odd manner
in which the old gentleman received this handsome rebuke. He started back two or three
steps, turned first pale and then excessively red, threw up his spectacles, then, putting

them down, ran full tilt at me, with his umbrella uplifted. He stopped short, however, in
his career, as if struck with a sudden recollection; and presently, turning round, hobbled
off down the street, shaking all the while with rage, and muttering between his teeth:
"Won't do-new glasses-thought it was

After this narrow escape we proceeded with greater caution, and arrived at our point of
destination in safety. There were only one or two of the hands on board, and these were
busy forward, doing something to the forecastle combings. Captain Barnard, we knew
very well, was engaged at Lloyd and Vredenburgh's, and would remain there until late in
the evening, so we had little to apprehend on his account. Augustus went first up the
vessel's side, and in a short while I followed him, without being noticed by the men at
work. We proceeded at once into the cabin, and found no person there. It was fitted up in
the most comfortable style-a thing somewhat unusual in a whaling-vessel. There were
four very excellent staterooms, with wide and convenient berths. There was also a large
stove, I took notice, and a remarkably thick and valuable carpet covering the floor of both
the cabin and staterooms. The ceiling was full seven feet high, and, in short, every thing
appeared of a more roomy and agreeable nature than I had anticipated. Augustus,
however, would allow me but little time for observation, insisting upon the necessity of
my concealing myself as soon as possible. He led the way into his own stateroom, which
was on the starboard side of the brig, and next to the bulkheads. Upon entering, he closed
the door and bolted it. I thought I had never seen a nicer little room than the one in which
I now found myself. It was about ten feet long, and had only one berth, which, as I said
before, was wide and convenient. In that portion of the closet nearest the bulkheads there
was a space of four feet square, containing a table, a chair, and a set of hanging shelves
full of books, chiefly books of voyages and travels. There were many other little comforts
in the room, among which I ought not to forget a kind of safe or refrigerator, in which
Augustus pointed out to me a host of delicacies, both in the eating and drinking
department.

He now pressed with his knuckles upon a certain spot of the carpet in one corner of the
space just mentioned, letting me know that a portion of the flooring, about sixteen inches
square, had been neatly cut out and again adjusted. As he pressed, this portion rose up at
one end sufficiently to allow the passage of his finger beneath. In this manner he raised
the mouth of the trap (to which the carpet was still fastened by tacks), and I found that it
led into the after hold. He next lit a small taper by means of a phosphorous match, and,
placing the light in a dark lantern, descended with it through the opening, bidding me
follow. I did so, and be then pulled the cover upon the hole, by means of a nail driven
into the under side-the carpet, of course, resuming its original position on the floor of the
stateroom, and all traces of the aperture being concealed.

The taper gave out so feeble a ray that it was with the greatest difficulty I could grope my
way through the confused mass of lumber among which I now found myself. By degrees,
however, my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and I proceeded with less trouble,
holding on to the skirts of my friend's coat. He brought me, at length, after creeping and
winding through innumerable narrow passages, to an iron-bound box, such as is used
sometimes for packing fine earthenware. It was nearly four feet high, and full six long.

but very narrow. Two large empty oil-casks lay on the top of it, and above these, again, a
vast quantity of straw matting, piled up as high as the floor of the cabin. In every other
direction around was wedged as closely as possible, even up to the ceiling, a complete
chaos of almost every species of ship-furniture, together with a heterogeneous medley of
crates, hampers, barrels, and bales, so that it seemed a matter no less than miraculous that
we had discovered any passage at all to the box. I afterward found that Augustus had
purposely arranged the stowage in this hold with a view to affording me a thorough
concealment, having had only one assistant in the labour, a man not going out in the brig.

My companion now showed me that one of the ends of the box could be removed at
pleasure. He slipped it aside and displayed the interior, at which I was excessively
amused. A mattress from one of the cabin berths covered the whole of its bottom, and it
contained almost every article of mere comfort which could be crowded into so small a
space, allowing me, at the same time, sufficient room for my accommodation, either in a
sitting position or lying at full length. Among other things, there were some books, pen,
ink, and paper, three blankets, a large jug full of water, a keg of sea-biscuit, three or four
immense Bologna sausages, an enormous ham, a cold leg of roast mutton, and half a
dozen bottles of cordials and liqueurs. I proceeded immediately to take possession of my
little apartment, and this with feelings of higher satisfaction, I am sure, than any monarch
ever experienced upon entering a new palace. Augustus now pointed out to me the
method of fastening the open end of the box, and then, holding the taper close to the
deck, showed me a piece of dark whipcord lying along it. This, he said, extended from
my hiding-place throughout an the necessary windings among the lumber, to a nail which
was driven into the deck of the hold, immediately beneath the trap-door leading into his
stateroom. By means of this cord I should be enabled readily to trace my way out without
his guidance, provided any unlooked-for accident should render such a step necessary. He
now took his departure, leaving with me the lantern, together with a copious supply of
tapers and phosphorous, and promising to pay me a visit as often as he could contrive to
do so without observation. This was on the seventeenth of June.

I remained three days and nights (as nearly as I could guess) in my hiding-place without
getting out of it at all, except twice for the purpose of stretching my hmbs by standing
erect between two crates just opposite the opening. During the whole period I saw
nothing of Augustus; but this occasioned me little uneasiness, as I knew the brig was
expected to put to sea every hour, and in the bustle he would not easily find opportunities
of coming down to me. At length I heard the trap open and shut, and presently he called
in a low voice, asking if all was well, and if there was any thing I wanted. "Nothing," I
replied; "I am as comfortable as can be; when will the brig sail?" "She will be under
weigh in less than half an hour," he answered. "I came to let you know, and for fear you
should be uneasy at my absence. I shall not have a chance of coming down again for
some time-perhaps for three or four days more. All is going on right aboveboard. After I
go up and close the trap, do you creep along by the whipcord to where the nail is driven
in. You will find my watch there-it may be useful to you, as you have no daylight to keep
time by. I suppose you can't tell how long you have been buried-only three days-this is
the twentieth. I would bring the watch to your box, but am afraid of being missed." With
this he went up.

In about an hour after he had gone I distinctly felt the brig in motion, and congratulated
myself upon having at length fairly commenced a voyage. Satisfied with this idea, I
determined to make my mind as easy as possible, and await the course of events until I
should be permitted to exchange the box for the more roomy, although hardly more
comfortable, accommodations of the cabin. My first care was to get the watch. Leaving
the taper burning, I groped along in the dark, following the cord through windings
innumerable, in some of which I discovered that, after toiling a long distance, I was
brought back within a foot or two of a former position. At length I reached the nail, and
securing the object of my journey, returned with it in safety. I now looked over the books
which had been so thoughtfully provided, and selected the expedition of Lewis and
Clarke to the mouth of the Columbia. With this I amused myself for some time, when,
growing sleepy, I extinguished the light with great care, and soon fell into a sound
slumber.

Upon awakening I felt strangely confused in mind, and some time elapsed before I could
bring to recollection all the various circumstances of my situation. By degrees, however, I
remembered all. Striking a light, I looked at the watch; but it was run down, and there
were, consequently, no means of determining how long I slept. My limbs were greatly
cramped, and I was forced to relieve them by standing between the crates. Presently
feeling an almost ravenous appetite, I bethought myself of the cold mutton, some of
which I had eaten just before going to sleep, and found excellent. What was my
astonishment in discovering it to be in a state of absolute putrefaction! This circumstance
occasioned me great disquietude; for, connecting it with the disorder of mind I
experienced upon awakening, I began to suppose that I must have slept for an
inordinately long period of time. The close atmosphere of the hold might have had
something to do with this, and might, in the end, be productive of the most serious
results. My head ached excessively; I fancied that I drew every breath with difficulty;
and, in short, I was oppressed with a multitude of gloomy feelings. Still I could not
venture to make any disturbance by opening the trap or otherwise, and, having wound up
the watch, contented myself as well as possible.

Throughout the whole of the next tedious twenty-four hours no person came to my relief,
and I could not help accusing Augustus of the grossest inattention. What alarmed me
chiefly was, that the water in my jug was reduced to about half a pint, and I was suffering
much from thirst, having eaten freely of the Bologna sausages after the loss of my
mutton. I became very uneasy, and could no longer take any interest in my books. I was
overpowered, too, with a desire to sleep, yet trembled at the thought of indulging it, lest
there might exist some pernicious influence, like that of burning charcoal, in the confined
air of the hold. In the meantime the roll of the brig told me that we were far in the main
ocean, and a dull humming sound, which reached my ears as if from an immense
distance, convinced me no ordinary gale was blowing. I could not imagine a reason for
the absence of Augustus. We were surely far enough advanced on our voyage to allow of
my going up. Some accident might have happened to him-but I could think of none
which would account for his suffering me to remain so long a prisoner, except, indeed,
his having suddenly died or f Allan overboard, and upon this idea I could not dwell with
any degree of patience. It was possible that we had been baffled by head winds, and were

still in the near vicinity of Nantucket. This notion, however, I was forced to abandon; for
such being the case, the brig must have frequently gone about; and I was entirely
satisfied, from her continual inclination to the larboard, that she had been sailing all along
with a steady breeze on her starboard quarter. Besides, granting that we were still in the
neighborhood of the island, why should not Augustus have visited me and informed me
of the circumstance? Pondering in this manner upon the difficulties of my solitary and
cheerless condition, I resolved to wait yet another twenty-four hours, when, if no relief
were obtained, I would make my way to the trap, and endeavour either to hold a parley
with my friend, or get at least a little fresh air through the opening, and a further supply
of water from the stateroom. While occupied with this thought, however, I fell in spite of
every exertion to the contrary, into a state of profound sleep, or rather stupor. My dreams
were of the most terrific description. Every species of calamity and horror befell me.
Among other miseries I was smothered to death between huge pillows, by demons of the
most ghastly and ferocious aspect. Immense serpents held me in their embrace, and
looked earnestly in my face with their fearfully shining eyes. Then deserts, limitless, and
of the most forlorn and awe-inspiring character, spread themselves out before me.
Immensely tall trunks of trees, gray and leafless, rose up in endless succession as far as
the eye could reach. Their roots were concealed in wide- spreading morasses, whose
dreary water lay intensely black, still, and altogether terrible, beneath. And the strange
trees seemed endowed with a human vitality, and waving to and fro their skeleton arms,
were crying to the silent waters for mercy, in the shrill and piercing accents of the most
acute agony and despair. The scene changed; and I stood, naked and alone, amidst the
burning sand-plains of Sahara. At my feet lay crouched a fierce lion of the tropics.
Suddenly his wild eyes opened and fell upon me. With a conculsive bound he sprang to
his feet, and laid bare his horrible teeth. In another instant there burst from his red throat
a roar like the thunder of the firmament, and I fell impetuously to the earth. Stifling in a
paroxysm of terror, I at last found myself partially awake. My dream, then, was not all a
dream. Now, at least, I was in possession of my senses. The paws of some huge and real
monster were pressing heavily upon my bosom-his hot breath was in my ear-and his
white and ghastly fangs were gleaming upon me through the gloom.

Had a thousand lives hung upon the movement of a limb or the utterance of a syllable, I
could have neither stirred nor spoken. The beast, whatever it was, retained his position
without attempting any immediate violence, while I lay in an utterly helpless, and, I
fancied, a dying condition beneath him. I felt that my powers of body and mind were fast
leaving me-in a word, that I was perishing, and perishing of sheer fright. My brain
swam-I grew deadly sick-my vision failed-even the glaring eyeballs above me grew
dim. Making a last strong effort, I at length breathed a faint ejaculation to God, and
resigned myself to die. The sound of my voice seemed to arouse all the latent fury of the
animal. He precipitated himself at full length upon my body; but what was my
astonishment, when, with a long and low whine, he commenced licking my face and
hands with the greatest eagerness, and with the most extravagant demonstration of
affection and joy! I was bewildered, utterly lost in amazement-but I could not forget the
peculiar whine of my Newfoundland dog Tiger, and the odd manner of his caresses I well
knew. It was he. I experienced a sudden rush of blood to my temples-a giddy and
overpowering sense of deliverance and reanimation. I rose hurriedly from the mattress

upon which I had been lying, and, throwing myself upon the neck of my faithful follower
and friend, relieved the long oppression of my bosom in a flood of the most passionate
tears.

As upon a former occasion my conceptions were in a state of the greatest indistinctness
and confusion after leaving the mattress. For a long time I found it nearly impossible to
connect any ideas; but, by very slow degrees, my thinking faculties returned, and I again
called to memory the several incidents of my condition. For the presence of Tiger I tried
in vain to account; and after busying myself with a thousand different conjectures
respecting him, was forced to content myself with rejoicing that he was with me to share
my dreary solitude, and render me comfort by his caresses. Most people love their dogs,
but for Tiger I had an affection far more ardent than common; and never, certainly, did
any creature more truly deserve it. For seven years he had been my inseparable
companion, and in a multitude of instances had given evidence of all the noble qualities
for which we value the animal. I had rescued him, when a puppy, from the clutches of a
malignant little villain in Nantucket who was leading him, with a rope around his neck, to
the water; and the grown dog repaid the obligation, about three years afterward, by saving
me from the bludgeon of a street robber.

Getting now hold of the watch, I found, upon applying it to my ear, that it had again run
down; but at this I was not at all surprised, being convinced, from the peculiar state of my
feelings, that I had slept, as before, for a very long period of time, how long, it was of
course impossible to say. I was burning up with fever, and my thirst was almost
intolerable. I felt about the box for my little remaining supply of water, for I had no light,
the taper having burnt to the socket of the lantern, and the phosphorus-box not coming
readily to hand. Upon finding the jug, however, I discovered it to be empty-Tiger, no
doubt, having been tempted to drink it, as well as to devour the remnant of mutton, the
bone of which lay, well picked, by the opening of the box. The spoiled meat I could well
spare, but my heart sank as I thought of the water. I was feeble in the extreme-so much
so that I shook all over, as with an ague, at the slightest movement or exertion. To add to
my troubles, the brig was pitching and rolling with great violence, and the oil-casks
which lay upon my box were in momentary danger of falling down, so as to block up the
only way of ingress or egress. I felt, also, terrible sufferings from sea-sickness. These
considerations determined me to make my way, at all hazards, to the trap, and obtain
immediate relief, before I should be incapacitated from doing so altogether. Having come
to this resolve, I again felt about for the phosphorus-box and tapers. The former I found
after some little trouble; but, not discovering the tapers as soon as I had expected (for I
remembered very nearly the spot in which I had placed them), I gave up the search for the
present, and bidding Tiger lie quiet, began at once my journey toward the trap.

In this attempt my great feebleness became more than ever apparent. It was with the
utmost difficulty I could crawl along at all, and very frequently my limbs sank suddenly
from beneath me; when, falling prostrate on my face, I would remain for some minutes in
a state bordering on insensibility. Still I struggled forward by slow degrees, dreading
every moment that I should swoon amid the narrow and intricate windings of the lumber,
in which event I had nothing but death to expect as the result. At length, upon making a

push forward with all the energy I could command, I struck my forehead violently against
the sharp corner of an iron-bound crate. The accident only stunned me for a few
moments; but I found, to my inexpressible grief, that the quick and violent roll of the
vessel had thrown the crate entirely across my path, so as effectually to block up the
passage. With my utmost exertions I could not move it a single inch from its position, it
being closely wedged in among the surrounding boxes and ship-furniture. It became
necessary, therefore, enfeebled as I was, either to leave the guidance of the whipcord and
seek out a new passage, or to climb over the obstacle, and resume the path on the other
side. The former alternative presented too many difficulties and dangers to be thought of
without a shudder. In my present weak state of both mind and body, I should infallibly
lose my way if I attempted it, and perish miserably amid the dismal and disgusting
labyrinths of the hold. I proceeded, therefore, without hesitation, to summon up all my
remaining strength and fortitude, and endeavour, as I best might, to clamber over the
crate.

Upon standing erect, with this end in view, I found the undertaking even a more serious
task than my fears had led me to imagine. On each side of the narrow passage arose a
complete wall of various heavy lumber, which the least blunder on my part might be the
means of bringing down upon my head; or, if this accident did not occur, the path might
be effectually blocked up against my return by the descending mass, as it was in front by
the obstacle there. The crate itself was a long and unwieldy box, upon which no foothold
could be obtained. In vain I attempted, by every means in my power, to reach the top,
with the hope of being thus enabled to draw myself up. Had I succeeded in reaching it, it
is certain that my strength would have proved utterly inadequate to the task of getting
over, and it was better in every respect that I failed. At length, in a desperate effort to
force the crate from its ground, I felt a strong vibration in the side next me. I thrust my
hand eagerly to the edge of the planks, and found that a very large one was loose. With
my pocket-knife, which, luckily, I had with me, I succeeded, after great labour, in prying
it entirely off; and getting it through the aperture, discovered, to my exceeding joy, that
there were no boards on the opposite side-in other words, that the top was wanting, it
being the bottom through which I had forced my way. I now met with no important
difficulty in proceeding along the line until I finally reached the nail. With a beating heart
I stood erect, and with a gentle touch pressed against the cover of the trap. It did not rise
as soon as I had expected, and I pressed it with somewhat more determination, still
dreading lest some other person than Augustus might be in his state-room. The door,
however, to my astonishment, remained steady, and I became somewhat uneasy, for I
knew that it had formerly required but little or no effort to remove it. I pushed it strongly-
it was nevertheless firm: with all my strength-it still did not give way: with rage, with
fury, with despair-it set at defiance my utmost efforts; and it was evident, from the
unyielding nature of the resistance, that the hole had either been discovered and
effectually nailed up, or that some immense weight had been placed upon it, which it was
useless to think of removing.

My sensations were those of extreme horror and dismay. In vain I attempted to reason on
the probable cause of my being thus entombed. I could summon up no connected chain of
reflection, and, sinking on the floor, gave way, unresistingly, to the most gloomy

imaginings, in which the dreadful deaths of thirst, famine, suffocation, and premature
interment crowded upon me as the prominent disasters to be encountered. At length there
returned to me some portion of presence of mind. I arose, and felt with my fingers for the
seams or cracks of the aperture. Having found them, I examined them closely to ascertain
if they emitted any light from the state-room; but none was visible. I then forced the
blade of my pen-knife through them, until I met with some hard obstacle. Scraping
against it, I discovered it to be a solid mass of iron, which, from its peculiar wavy feel as
I passed the blade along it, I concluded to be a chain-cable. The only course now left me
was to retrace my way to the box, and there either yield to my sad fate, or try so to
tranquilize my mind as to admit of my arranging some plan of escape. I immediately set
about the attempt, and succeeded, after innumerable difficulties, in getting back. As I
sank, utterly exhausted, upon the mattress. Tiger threw himself at full length by my side,
and seemed as if desirous, by his caresses, of consoling me in my troubles, and urging me
to bear them with fortitude.

The singularity of his behavior at length forcibly arrested my attention. After licking my
face and hands for some minutes, he would suddenly cease doing so, and utter a low
whine. Upon reaching out my hand toward him, I then invariably found him lying on his
back, with his paws uplifted. This conduct, so frequently repeated, appeared strange, and
I could in no manner account for it. As the dog seemed distressed, I concluded that he
had received some injury; and, taking his paws in my hands, I examined them one by
one, but found no sign of any hurt. I then supposed him hungry, and gave him a large
piece of ham, which he devoured with avidity-afterward, however, resuming his
extraordinary manoeuvres. I now imagined that he was suffering, like myself, the
torments of thirst, and was about adopting this conclusion as the true one, when the idea
occurred to me that I had as yet only examined his paws, and that there might possibly be
a wound upon some portion of his body or head. The latter I felt carefully over, but found
nothing. On passing my hand, however, along his back, I perceived a slight erection of
the hair extending completely across it. Probing this with my finger, I discovered a string,
and tracing it up, found that it encircled the whole body. Upon a closer scrutiny, I came
across a small slip of what had the feeling of letter paper, through which the string had
been fastened in such a manner as to bring it immediately beneath the left shoulder of the
animal.

CHAPTER III

The thought instantly occurred to me that the paper was a note from Augustus, and that
some unaccountable accident having happened to prevent his relieving me from my
dungeon, he had devised this method of acquainting me with the true state of affairs.
Trembling with eagerness, I now commenced another search for my phosphorus matches
and tapers. I had a confused recollection of having put them carefully away just before
falling asleep; and, indeed, previously to my last journey to the trap, I had been able to
remember the exact spot where I had deposited them. But now I endeavored in vain to
call it to mind, and busied myself for a full hour in a fruitless and vexatious search for the
missing articles; never, surely, was there a more tantalizing state of anxiety and suspense.
At length, while groping about, with my head close to the ballast, near the opening of the

box, and outside of it, I perceived a faint glimmering of light in the direction of the
steerage. Greatly surprised, I endeavored to make my way toward it, as it appeared to be
but a few feet from my position. Scarcely had I moved with this intention, when I lost
sight of the glimmer entirely, and, before I could bring it into view again, was obliged to
feel along by the box until I had exactly resumed my original situation. Now, moving my
head with caution to and fro, I found that, by proceeding slowly, with great care, in an
opposite direction to that in which I had at first started, I was enabled to draw near the
light, still keeping it in view. Presently I came directly upon it (having squeezed my way
through innumerable narrow windings), and found that it proceeded from some fragments
of my matches lying in an empty barrel turned upon its side. I was wondering how they
came in such a place, when my hand fell upon two or three pieces of taper wax, which
had been evidently mumbled by the dog. I concluded at once that he had devoured the
whole of my supply of candles, and I felt hopeless of being ever able to read the note of
Augustus. The small remnants of the wax were so mashed up among other rubbish in the
barrel, that I despaired of deriving any service from them, and left them as they were. The
phosphorus, of which there was only a speck or two, I gathered up as well as I could, and
returned with it, after much difficulty, to my box, where Tiger had all the while remained.

What to do next I could not tell. The hold was so intensely dark that I could not see my
hand, however close I would hold it to my face. The white slip of paper could barely be
discerned, and not even that when I looked at it directly; by turning the exterior portions
of the retina toward it-that is to say, by surveying it slightly askance, I found that it
became in some measure perceptible. Thus the gloom of my prison may be imagined, and
the note of my friend, if indeed it were a note from him, seemed only likely to throw me
into further trouble, by disquieting to no purpose my already enfeebled and agitated
mind. In vain I revolved in my brain a multitude of absurd expedients for procuring light-
such expedients precisely as a man in the perturbed sleep occasioned by opium would be
apt to fall upon for a similar purpose-each and all of which appear by turns to the
dreamer the most reasonable and the most preposterous of conceptions, just as the
reasoning or imaginative faculties flicker, alternately, one above the other. At last an idea
occurred to me which seemed rational, and which gave me cause to wonder, very justly,
that I had not entertained it before. I placed the slip of paper on the back of a book, and,
collecting the fragments of the phosphorus matches which I had brought from the barrel,
laid them together upon the paper. I then, with the palm of my hand, rubbed the whole
over quickly, yet steadily. A clear light diffused itself immediately throughout the whole
surface; and had there been any writing upon it, I should not have experienced the least
difficulty, I am sure, in reading it. Not a syllable was there, however-nothing but a dreary
and unsatisfactory blank; the illumination died away in a few seconds, and my heart died
away within me as it went.

I have before stated more than once that my intellect, for some period prior to this, had
been in a condition nearly bordering on idiocy. There were, to be sure, momentary
intervals of perfect sanity, and, now and then, even of energy; but these were few. It must
be remembered that I had been, for many days certainly, inhaling the almost pestilential
atmosphere of a close hold in a whaling vessel, and for a long portion of that time but
scantily supplied with water. For the last fourteen or fifteen hours I had none-nor had I

slept during that time. Salt provisions of the most exciting kind had been my chief, and,
indeed, since the loss of the mutton, my only supply of food, with the exception of the
sea-biscuit; and these latter were utterly useless to me, as they were too dry and hard to
be swallowed in the swollen and parched condition of my throat. I was now in a high
state of fever, and in every respect exceedingly ill. This will account for the fact that
many miserable hours of despondency elapsed after my last adventure with the
phosphorus, before the thought suggested itself that I had examined only one side of the
paper. I shall not attempt to describe my feelings of rage (for I believe I was more angry
than any thing else) when the egregious oversight I had committed flashed suddenly upon
my perception. The blunder itself would have been unimportant, had not my own folly
and impetuosity rendered it otherwise-in my disappointment at not finding some words
upon the slip, I had childishly torn it in pieces and thrown it away, it was impossible to
say where.

From the worst part of this dilemma I was relieved by the sagacity of Tiger. Having got,
after a long search, a small piece of the note, I put it to the dog's nose, and endeavored to
make him understand that he must bring me the rest of it. To my astonishment, (for I had
taught him none of the usual tricks for which his breed are famous,) he seemed to enter at
once into my meaning, and, rummaging about for a few moments, soon found another
considerable portion. Bringing me this, he paused awhile, and, rubbing his nose against
my hand, appeared to be waiting for my approval of what he had done. I patted him on
the head, when he immediately made off again. It was now some minutes before he came
back-but when he did come, he brought with him a large slip, which proved to be all the
paper missing-it having been torn, it seems, only into three pieces. Luckily, I had no
trouble in finding what few fragments of the phosphorus were left- being guided by the
indistinct glow one or two of the particles still emitted. My difficulties had taught me the
necessity of caution, and I now took time to reflect upon what I was about to do. It was
very probable, I considered, that some words were written upon that side of the paper
which had not been examined-but which side was that? Fitting the pieces together gave
me no clew in this respect, although it assured me that the words (if there were any)
would be found all on one side, and connected in a proper manner, as written. There was
the greater necessity of ascertaining the point in question beyond a doubt, as the
phosphorus remaining would be altogether insufficient for a third attempt, should I fail in
the one I was now about to make. I placed the paper on a book as before, and sat for some
minutes thoughtfully revolving the matter over in my mind. At last I thought it barely
possible that the written side might have some unevenness on its surface, which a delicate
sense of feeling might enable me to detect. I determined to make the experiment and
passed my finger very carefully over the side which first presented itself. Nothing,
however, was perceptible, and I turned the paper, adjusting it on the book. I now again
carried my forefinger cautiously along, when I was aware of an exceedingly slight, but
still discernable glow, which followed as it proceeded. This, I knew, must arise from
some very minute remaining particles of the phosphorus with which I had covered the
paper in my previous attempt. The other, or under side, then, was that on which lay the
writing, if writing there should finally prove to be. Again I turned the note, and went to
work as I had previously done. Having rubbed in the phosphorus, a brilliancy ensued as
before-but this time several lines of MS. in a large hand, and apparently in red ink.

became distinctly visible. The glimmer, although sufficiently bright, was but momentary.
Still, had I not been too greatly excited, there would have been ample time enough for me
to peruse the whole three sentences before me-for I saw there were three. In my anxiety,
however, to read all at once, I succeeded only in reading the seven concluding words,
which thus appeared-"blood- your life depends upon lying close."

Had I been able to ascertain the entire contents of the note-the full meaning of the
admonition which my friend had thus attempted to convey, that admonition, even
although it should have revealed a story of disaster the most unspeakable, could not, I am
firmly convinced, have imbued my mind with one tithe of the harrowing and yet
indefinable horror with which I was inspired by the fragmentary warning thus received.
And "blood," too, that word of all words-so rife at all times with mystery, and suffering,
and terror-how trebly full of import did it now appear-how chilly and heavily (disjointed,
as it thus was, from any foregoing words to qualify or render it distinct) did its vague
syllables fall, amid the deep gloom of my prison, into the innermost recesses of my soul!

Augustus had, undoubtedly, good reasons for wishing me to remain concealed, and I
formed a thousand surmises as to what they could be-but I could think of nothing
affording a satisfactory solution of the mystery, just after returning from my last journey
to the trap, and before my attention had been otherwise directed by the singular conduct
of Tiger, I had come to the resolution of making myself heard at all events by those on
board, or, if I could not succeed in this directly, of trying to cut my way through the orlop
deck. The half certainty which I felt of being able to accomplish one of these two
purposes in the last emergency, had given me courage (which I should not otherwise have
had) to endure the evils of my situation. The few words I had been able to read, however,
had cut me off from these final resources, and I now, for the first time, felt all the misery
of my fate. In a paroxysm of despair I threw myself again upon the mattress, where, for
about the period of a day and night, I lay in a kind of stupor, relieved only by momentary
intervals of reason and recollection.

At length I once more arose, and busied myself in reflection upon the horrors which
encompassed me. For another twenty-four hours it was barely possible that I might exist
without water-for a longer time I could not do so. During the first portion of my
imprisonment I had made free use of the cordials with which Augustus had supplied me,
but they only served to excite fever, without in the least degree assuaging thirst. I had
now only about a gill left, and this was of a species of strong peach liqueur at which my
stomach revolted. The sausages were entirely consumed; of the ham nothing remained
but a small piece of the skin; and all the biscuit, except a few fragments of one, had been
eaten by Tiger. To add to my troubles, I found that my headache was increasing
momentarily, and with it the species of delirium which had distressed me more or less
since my first falling asleep. For some hours past it had been with the greatest difficulty I
could breathe at all, and now each attempt at so doing was attended with the most
depressing spasmodic action of the chest. But there was still another and very different
source of disquietude, and one, indeed, whose harassing terrors had been the chief means
of arousing me to exertion from my stupor on the mattress. It arose from the demeanor of
the dog.

I first observed an alteration in his conduct while rubbing in the phosphorus on the paper
in my last attempt. As I rubbed, he ran his nose against my hand with a slight snarl; but I
was too greatly excited at the time to pay much attention to the circumstance. Soon
afterward, it will be remembered, I threw myself on the mattress, and fell into a species
of lethargy. Presently I became aware of a singular hissing sound close at my ears, and
discovered it to proceed from Tiger, who was panting and wheezing in a state of the
greatest apparent excitement, his eyeballs flashing fiercely through the gloom. I spoke to
him, when he replied with a low growl, and then remained quiet. Presently I relapsed into
my stupor, from which I was again awakened in a similar manner. This was repeated
three or four times, until finally his behaviour inspired me with so great a degree of fear,
that I became fully aroused. He was now lying close by the door of the box, snarling
fearfully, although in a kind of undertone, and grinding his teeth as if strongly convulsed.
I had no doubt whatever that the want of water or the confined atmosphere of the hold
had driven him mad, and I was at a loss what course to pursue. I could not endure the
thought of killing him, yet it seemed absolutely necessary for my own safety. I could
distinctly perceive his eyes fastened upon me with an expression of the most deadly
animosity, and I expected every instant that he would attack me. At last I could endure
my terrible situation no longer, and determined to make my way from the box at all
hazards, and dispatch him, if his opposition should render it necessary for me to do so. To
get out, I had to pass directly over his body, and he already seemed to anticipate my
design-missing himself upon his fore, legs (as I perceived by the altered position of his
eyes), and displayed the whole of his white fangs, which were easily discernible. I took
the remains of the ham- skin, and the bottle containing the liqueur, and secured them
about my person, together with a large carving-knife which Augustus had left me-then,
folding my cloak around me as closely as possible, I made a movement toward the mouth
of the box. No sooner did I do this, than the dog sprang with a loud growl toward my
throat. The whole weight of his body struck me on the right shoulder, and I fell violently
to the left, while the enraged animal passed entirely over me. I had f Allan upon my
knees, with my head buried among the blankets, and these protected me from a second
furious assault, during which I felt the sharp teeth pressing vigorously upon the woollen
which enveloped my neck-yet, luckily, without being able to penetrate all the folds. I was
now beneath the dog, and a few moments would place me completely in his power.
Despair gave me strength, and I rose boldly up, shaking him from me by main force, and
dragging with me the blankets from the mattress. These I now threw over him, and before
he could extricate himself, I had got through the door and closed it effectually against his
pursuit. In this struggle, however, I had been forced to drop the morsel of ham- skin, and I
now found my whole stock of provisions reduced to a single gill of liqueur. As this
reflection crossed my mind, I felt myself actuated by one of those fits of perverseness
which might be supposed to influence a spoiled child in similar circumstances, and,
raising the bottle to my lips, I drained it to the last drop, and dashed it furiously upon the
floor.

Scarcely had the echo of the crash died away, when I heard my name pronounced in an
eager but subdued voice, issuing from the direction of the steerage. So unexpected was
anything of the kind, and so intense was the emotion excited within me by the sound, that
I endeavoured in vain to reply. My powers of speech totally failed, and in an agony of

terror lest my friend should conclude me dead, and return without attempting to reach me,
I stood up between the crates near the door of the box, trembling convulsively, and
gasping and struggling for utterance. Had a thousand words depended upon a syllable, I
could not have spoken it. There was a slight movement now audible among the lumber
somewhere forward of my station. The sound presently grew less distinct, then again less
so, and still less. Shall I ever forget my feelings at this moment? He was going- my
friend, my companion, from whom I had a right to expect so much- he was going-he
would abandon me-he was gone! He would leave me to perish miserably, to expire in the
most horrible and loathesome of dungeons-and one word, one little syllable, would save
me-yet that single syllable I could not utter! I felt, I am sure, more than ten thousand
times the agonies of death itself. My brain reeled, and I fell, deadly sick, against the end
of the box.

As I fell the carving-knife was shaken out from the waist-band of my pantaloons, and
dropped with a rattling sound to the floor. Never did any strain of the richest melody
come so sweetly to my ears! With the intensest anxiety I listened to ascertain the effect of
the noise upon Augustus-for I knew that the person who called my name could be no one
but himself. All was silent for some moments. At length I again heard the word "Arthur!"
repeated in a low tone, and one full of hesitation. Reviving hope loosened at once my
powers of speech, and I now screamed at the top of my voice, "Augustus! oh, Augustus!"
"Hush! for God's sake be silent!" he replied, in a voice trembling with agitation; "I will be
with you immediately-as soon as I can make my way through the hold." For a long time I
heard him moving among the lumber, and every moment seemed to me an age. At length
I felt his hand upon my shoulder, and he placed, at the same moment, a bottle of water to
my lips. Those only who have been suddenly redeemed from the jaws of the tomb, or
who have known the insufferable torments of thirst under circumstances as aggravated as
those which encompassed me in my dreary prison, can form any idea of the unutterable
transports which that one long draught of the richest of all physical luxuries afforded.

When I had in some degree satisfied my thirst, Augustus produced from his pocket three
or four boiled potatoes, which I devoured with the greatest avidity. He had brought with
him a light in a dark lantern, and the grateful rays afforded me scarcely less comfort than
the food and drink. But I was impatient to learn the cause of his protracted absence, and
he proceeded to recount what had happened on board during my incarceration.

CHAPTER IV

The brig put to sea, as I had supposed, in about an hour after he had left the watch. This
was on the twentieth of June. It will be remembered that I had then been in the hold for
three days; and, during this period, there was so constant a bustle on board, and so much
running to and fro, especially in the cabin and staterooms, that he had had no chance of
visiting me without the risk of having the secret of the trap discovered. When at length he
did come, I had assured him that I was doing as well as possible; and, therefore, for the
two next days be felt but little uneasiness on my account-still, however, watching an
opportunity of going down. It was not until the fourth day that he found one. Several
times during this interval he had made up his mind to let his father know of the

adventure, and have me come up at once; but we were still within reaching distance of
Nantucket, and it was doubtful, from some expressions which had escaped Captain
Barnard, whether he would not immediately put back if he discovered me to be on board.
Besides, upon thinking the matter over, Augustus, so he told me, could not imagine that I
was in immediate want, or that I would hesitate, in such case, to make myself heard at the
trap. When, therefore, he considered everything he concluded to let me stay until he
could meet with an opportunity of visiting me unobserved. This, as I said before, did not
occur until the fourth day after his bringing me the watch, and the seventh since I had
first entered the hold. He then went down without taking with him any water or
provisions, intending in the first place merely to call my attention, and get me to come
from the box to the trap, -when he would go up to the stateroom and thence hand me
down a sup. ply. When he descended for this purpose he found that I was asleep, for it
seems that I was snoring very loudly. From all the calculations I can make on the subject,
this must have been the slumber into which I fell just after my return from the trap with
the watch, and which, consequently, must have lasted for more than three entire days and
nights at the very least. Latterly, I have had reason both from my own experience and the
assurance of others, to be acquainted with the strong soporific effects of the stench
arising from old fish-oil when closely confined; and when I think of the condition of the
hold in which I was imprisoned, and the long period during which the brig had been used
as a whaling vessel, I am more inclined to wonder that I awoke at all, after once falling
asleep, than that I should have slept uninterruptedly for the period specified above.

Augustus called to me at first in a low voice and without closing the trap-but I made him
no reply. He then shut the trap, and spoke to me in a louder, and finally in a very loud
tone-still I continued to snore. He was now at a loss what to do. It would take him some
time to make his way through the lumber to my box, and in the meanwhile his absence
would be noticed by Captain Barnard, who had occasion for his services every minute, in
arranging and copying papers connected with the business of the voyage. He determined,
therefore, upon reflection, to ascend, and await another opportunity of visiting me. He
was the more easily induced to this resolve, as my slumber appeared to be of the most
tranquil nature, and he could not suppose that I had undergone any inconvenience from
my incarceration. He had just made up his mind on these points when his attention was
arrested by an unusual bustle, the sound of which proceeded apparently from the cabin.
He sprang through the trap as quickly as possible, closed it, and threw open the door of
his stateroom. No sooner had he put his foot over the threshold than a pistol flashed in his
face, and he was knocked down, at the same moment, by a blow from a handspike.

A strong hand held him on the cabin floor, with a tight grasp upon his throat; still he was
able to see what was going on around him. His father was tied hand and foot, and lying
along the steps of the companion-way, with his head down, and a deep wound in the
forehead, from which the blood was flowing in a continued stream. He spoke not a word,
and was apparently dying. Over him stood the first mate, eyeing him with an expression
of fiendish derision, and deliberately searching his pockets, from which he presently drew
forth a large wallet and a chronometer. Seven of the crew (among whom was the cook, a
negro) were rummaging the staterooms on the larboard for arms, where they soon
equipped themselves with muskets and ammunition. Besides Augustus and Captain

Barnard, there were nine men altogether in the cabin, and these among the most ruffianly
of the brig's company. The villains now went upon deck, taking my friend with them after
having secured his arms behind his back. They proceeded straight to the forecastle, which
was fastened down-two of the mutineers standing by it with axes-two also at the main
hatch. The mate called out in a loud voice: "Do you hear there below? tumble up with
you, one by one-now, mark that-and no grumbling!" It was some minutes before any one
appeared:-at last an Englishman, who had shipped as a raw hand, came up, weeping
piteously, and entreating the mate, in the most humble manner, to spare his life. The only
reply was a blow on the forehead from an axe. The poor fellow fell to the deck without a
groan, and the black cook lifted him up in his arms as he would a child, and tossed him
deliberately into the sea. Hearing the blow and the plunge of the body, the men below
could now be induced to venture on deck neither by threats nor promises, until a
proposition was made to smoke them out. A general rush then ensued, and for a moment
it seemed possible that the brig might be retaken. The mutineers, however, succeeded at
last in closing the forecastle effectually before more than six of their opponents could get
up. These six, finding themselves so greatly outnumbered and without arms, submitted
after a brief struggle. The mate gave them fair words-no doubt with a view of inducing
those below to yield, for they had no difficulty in hearing all that was said on deck. The
result proved his sagacity, no less than his diabolical villainy. All in the forecastle
presently signified their intention of submitting, and, ascending one by one, were
pinioned and then thrown on their backs, together with the first six-there being in all, of
the crew who were not concerned in the mutiny, twenty-seven.

A scene of the most horrible butchery ensued. The bound seamen were dragged to the
gangway. Here the cook stood with an axe, striking each victim on the head as he was
forced over the side of the vessel by the other mutineers. In this manner twenty-two
perished, and Augustus had given himself up for lost, expecting every moment his own
turn to come next. But it seemed that the villains were now either weary, or in some
measure disgusted with their bloody labour; for the four remaining prisoners, together
with my friend, who had been thrown on the deck with the rest, were respited while the
mate sent below for rum, and the whole murderous party held a drunken carouse, which
lasted until sunset. They now fell to disputing in regard to the fate of the survivors, who
lay not more than four paces off, and could distinguish every word said. Upon some of
the mutineers the liquor appeared to have a softening effect, for several voices were heard
in favor of releasing the captives altogether, on condition of joining the mutiny and
sharing the profits. The black cook, however (who in all respects was a perfect demon,
and who seemed to exert as much influence, if not more, than the mate himself), would
listen to no proposition of the kind, and rose repeatedly for the purpose of resuming his
work at the gangway. Fortunately he was so far overcome by intoxication as to be easily
restrained by the less bloodthirsty of the party, among whom was a line-manager, who
went by the name of Dirk Peters. This man was the son of an Indian squaw of the tribe of
Upsarokas, who live among the fastnesses of the Black Hills, near the source of the
Missouri. His father was a fur-trader, I believe, or at least connected in some manner with
the Indian trading-posts on Lewis river. Peter himself was one of the most ferocious-
looking men I ever beheld. He was short in stature, not more than four feet eight inches
high, but his limbs were of Herculean mould. His hands, especially, were so enormously

thick and broad as hardly to retain a human shape. His arms, as well as legs, were bowed
in the most singular manner, and appeared to possess no flexibility whatever. His head
was equally deformed, being of immense size, with an indentation on the crown (like that
on the head of most negroes), and entirely bald. To conceal this latter deficiency, which
did not proceed from old age, he usually wore a wig formed of any hair-like material
which presented itself-occasionally the skin of a Spanish dog or American grizzly bear.
At the time spoken of, he had on a portion of one of these bearskins; and it added no little
to the natural ferocity of his countenance, which betook of the Upsaroka character. The
mouth extended nearly from ear to ear, the lips were thin, and seemed, like some other
portions of his frame, to be devoid of natural pliancy, so that the ruling expression never
varied under the influence of any emotion whatever. This ruling expression may be
conceived when it is considered that the teeth were exceedingly long and protruding, and
never even partially covered, in any instance, by the lips. To pass this man with a casual
glance, one might imagine him to be convulsed with laughter, but a second look would
induce a shuddering acknowledgment, that if such an expression were indicative of
merriment, the merriment must be that of a demon. Of this singular being many
anecdotes were prevalent among the seafaring men of Nantucket. These anecdotes went
to prove his prodigious strength when under excitement, and some of them had given rise
to a doubt of his sanity. But on board the Grampus, it seems, he was regarded, at the time
of the mutiny, with feelings more of derision than of anything else. I have been thus
particular in speaking of Dirk Peters, because, ferocious as he appeared, he proved the
main instrument in preserving the life of Augustus, and because I shall have frequent
occasion to mention him hereafter in the course of my narrative-a narrative, let me here
say, which, in its latter portions, will be found to include incidents of a nature so entirely
out of the range of human experience, and for this reason so far beyond the limits of
human credulity, that I proceed in utter hopelessness of obtaining credence for all that I
shall tell, yet confidently trusting in time and progressing science to verify some of the
most important and most improbable of my statements.

After much indecision and two or three violent quarrels, it was determined at last that all
the prisoners (with the exception of Augustus, whom Peters insisted in a jocular manner
upon keeping as his clerk) should be set adrift in one of the smallest whaleboats. The
mate went down into the cabin to see if Captain Barnard was still living-for, it will be
remembered, he was left below when the mutineers came up. Presently the two made
their appearance, the captain pale as death, but somewhat recovered from the effects of
his wound. He spoke to the men in a voice hardly articulate, entreated them not to set him
adrift, but to return to their duty, and promising to land them wherever they chose, and to
take no steps for bringing them to justice. He might as well have spoken to the winds.
Two of the ruffians seized him by the arms and hurled him over the brig's side into the
boat, which had been lowered while the mate went below. The four men who were lying
on the deck were then untied and ordered to follow, which they did without attempting
any resistance-Augustus being still left in his painful position, although he struggled and
prayed only for the poor satisfaction of being permitted to bid his father farewell. A
handful of sea-biscuit and a jug of water were now handed down; but neither mast, sail,
oar, nor compass. The boat was towed astern for a few minutes, during which the
mutineers held another consultation-it was then finally cut adrift. By this time night had

come on-there were neither moon nor stars visible-and a short and ugly sea was running,
although there was no great deal of wind. The boat was instantly out of sight, and little
hope could be entertained for the unfortunate sufferers who were in it. This event
happened, however, in latitude 35 degrees 30' north, longitude 61 degrees 20' west, and
consequently at no very great distance from the Bermuda Islands. Augustus therefore
endeavored to console himself with the idea that the boat might either succeed in
reaching the land, or come sufficiently near to be fAUan in with by vessels off the coast.

All sail was now put upon the brig, and she continued her original course to the
southwest-the mutineers being bent upon some piratical expedition, in which, from all
that could be understood, a ship was to be intercepted on her way from the Cape Verd
Islands to Porto Rico. No attention was paid to Augustus, who was untied and suffered to
go about anywhere forward of the cabin companion-way. Dirk Peters treated him with
some degree of kindness, and on one occasion saved him from the brutality of the cook.
His situation was still one of the most precarious, as the men were continually
intoxicated, and there was no relying upon their continued good-humor or carelessness in
regard to himself. His anxiety on my account be represented, however, as the most
distressing result of his condition; and, indeed, I had never reason to doubt the sincerity
of his friendship. More than once he had resolved to acquaint the mutineers with the
secret of my being on board, but was restrained from so doing, partly through recollection
of the atrocities he had already beheld, and partly through a hope of being able soon to
bring me relief. For the latter purpose he was constantly on the watch; but, in spite of the
most constant vigilance, three days elapsed after the boat was cut adrift before any
chance occurred. At length, on the night of the third day, there came on a heavy blow
from the eastward, and all hands were called up to take in sail. During the confusion
which ensued, he made his way below unobserved, and into the stateroom. What was his
grief and horror in discovering that the latter had been rendered a place of deposit for a
variety of sea-stores and ship-furniture, and that several fathoms of old chain-cable,
which had been stowed away beneath the companion-ladder, had been dragged thence to
make room for a chest, and were now lying immediately upon the trap! To remove it
without discovery was impossible, and he returned on deck as quickly as he could. As be
came up, the mate seized him by the throat, and demanding what he had been doing in
the cabin, was about flinging him over the larboard bulwark, when his life was again
preserved through the interference of Dirk Peters. Augustus was now put in handcuffs (of
which there were several pairs on board), and his feet lashed tightly together. He was
then taken into the steerage, and thrown into a lower berth next to the forecastle
bulkheads, with the assurance that he should never put his foot on deck again "until the
brig was no longer a brig." This was the expression of the cook, who threw him into the
berth-it is hardly possible to say what precise meaning intended by the phrase. The whole
affair, however, proved the ultimate means of my relief, as will presently appear.

CHAPTER V

For some minutes after the cook had left the forecastle, Augustus abandoned himself to
despair, never hoping to leave the berth alive. He now came to the resolution of
acquainting the first of the men who should come down with my situation, thinking it

better to let me take my chance with the mutineers than perish of thirst in the hold,-for it
had been ten days since I was first imprisoned, and my jug of water was not a plentiful
supply even for four. As he was thinking on this subject, the idea came all at once into his
head that it might be possible to communicate with me by the way of the main hold. In
any other circumstances, the difficulty and hazard of the undertaking would have pre.
vented him from attempting it; but now he had, at all events, little prospect of life, and
consequently little to lose, he bent his whole mind, therefore, upon the task.

His handcuffs were the first consideration. At first he saw no method of removing them,
and feared that he should thus be baffled in the very outset; but upon a closer scrutiny he
discovered that the irons could be slipped off and on at pleasure, with very little effort or
inconvenience, merely by squeezing his hands through them,-this species of manacle
being altogether ineffectual in confining young persons, in whom the smaller bones
readily yield to pressure. He now untied his feet, and, leaving the cord in such a manner
that it could easily be readjusted in the event of any person's coming down, proceeded to
examine the bulkhead where it joined the berth. The partition here was of soft pine board,
an inch thick, and he saw that he should have little trouble in cutting his way through. A
voice was now heard at the forecastle companion-way, and he had just time to put his
right hand into its handcuff (the left had not been removed) and to draw the rope in a
slipknot around his ankle, when Dirk Peters came below, followed by Tiger, who
immediately leaped into the berth and lay down. The dog had been brought on board by
Augustus, who knew my attachment to the animal, and thought it would give me pleasure
to have him with me during the voyage. He went up to our house for him immediately
after first taking me into the hold, but did not think of mentioning the circumstance upon
his bringing the watch. Since the mutiny, Augustus had not seen him before his
appearance with Dirk Peters, and had given him up for lost, supposing him to have been
thrown overboard by some of the malignant villains belonging to the mate's gang. It
appeared afterward that he had crawled into a hole beneath a whale-boat, from which, not
having room to turn round, he could not extricate himself. Peters at last let him out, and,
with a species of good feeling which my friend knew well how to appreciate, had now
brought him to him in the forecastle as a companion, leaving at the same time some salt
junk and potatoes, with a can of water, he then went on deck, promising to come down
with something more to eat on the next day.

When he had gone, Augustus freed both hands from the manacles and unfastened his feet.
He then turned down the head of the mattress on which he had been lying, and with his
penknife (for the ruffians had not thought it worth while to search him) commenced
cutting vigorously across one of the partition planks, as closely as possible to the floor of
the berth. He chose to cut here, because, if suddenly interrupted, he would be able to
conceal what had been done by letting the head of the mattress fall into its proper
position. For the remainder of the day, however, no disturbance occurred, and by night he
had completely divided the plank. It should here be observed that none of the crew
occupied the forecastle as a sleeping-place, living altogether in the cabin since the
mutiny, drinking the wines and feasting on the sea-stores of Captain Barnard, and giving
no more heed than was absolutely necessary to the navigation of the brig. These
circumstances proved fortunate both for myself and Augustus; for, had matters been

otherwise, he would have found it impossible to reach me. As it was, he proceeded with
confidence in his design. It was near daybreak, however, before he completed the second
division of the board (which was about a foot above the first cut), thus making an
aperture quite large enough to admit his passage through with facility to the main orlop
deck. Having got here, he made his way with but little trouble to the lower main hatch,
although in so doing he had to scramble over tiers of oil-casks piled nearly as high as the
upper deck, there being barely room enough left for his body. Upon reaching the hatch he
found that Tiger had followed him below, squeezing between two rows of the casks. It
was now too late, however, to attempt getting to me before dawn, as the chief difficulty
lay in passing through the close stowage in the lower hold. He therefore resolved to
return, and wait till the next night. With this design, he proceeded to loosen the hatch, so
that he might have as little detention as possible when he should come again. No sooner
had he loosened it than Tiger sprang eagerly to the small opening produced, snuffed for a
moment, and then uttered a long whine, scratching at the same time, as if anxious to
remove the covering with his paws. There could be no doubt, from his behaviour, that he
was aware of my being in the hold, and Augustus thought it possible that he would be
able to get to me if he put him down. He now hit upon the expedient of sending the note,
as it was especially desirable that I should make no attempt at forcing my way out at least
under existing circumstances, and there could be no certainty of his getting to me himself
on the morrow as he intended. After-events proved how fortunate it was that the idea
occurred to him as it did; for, had it not been for the receipt of the note, I should
undoubtedly have f Allan upon some plan, however desperate, of alarming the crew, and
both our lives would most probably have been sacrificed in consequence.

Having concluded to write, the difficulty was now to procure the mate, rials for so doing.
An old toothpick was soon made into a pen; and this by means of feeling altogether, for
the between-decks was as dark as pitch. Paper enough was obtained from the back of a
letter-a duplicate of the forged letter from Mr. Ross. This had been the original draught;
but the handwriting not being sufficiently well imitated, Augustus had written another,
thrusting the first, by good fortune, into his coat-pocket, where it was now most
opportunely discovered. Ink alone was thus wanting, and a substitute was immediately
found for this by means of a slight incision with the pen-knife on the back of a finger just
above the nail-a copious flow of blood ensuing, as usual, from wounds in that vicinity.
The note was now written, as well as it could be in the dark and under the circumstances.
It briefly explained that a mutiny had taken place; that Captain Barnard was set adrift;
and that I might expect immediate relief as far as provisions were concerned, but must
not venture upon making any disturbance. It concluded with these words: "I have
scrawled this with blood-your life depends upon lying close."

This slip of paper being tied upon the dog, he was now put down the hatchway, and
Augustus made the best of his way back to the forecastle, where be found no reason to
believe that any of the crew had been in his absence. To conceal the hole in the partition,
he drove his knife in just above it, and hung up a pea-jacket which he found in the berth.
His handcuffs were then replaced, and also the rope around his ankles.

These arrangements were scarcely completed when Dirk Peters came below, very drunk,
but in excellent humour, and bringing with him my friend's allowance of provision for the
day. This consisted of a dozen large Irish potatoes roasted, and a pitcher of water. He sat
for some time on a chest by the berth, and talked freely about the mate and the general
concerns of the brig. His demeanour was exceedingly capricious, and even grotesque. At
one time Augustus was much alarmed by odd conduct. At last, however, he went on
deck, muttering a promise to bring his prisoner a good dinner on the morrow. During the
day two of the crew (harpooners) came down, accompanied by the cook, all three in
nearly the last stage of intoxication. Like Peters, they made no scruple of talking
unreservedly about their plans. It appeared that they were much divided among
themselves as to their ultimate course, agreeing in no point, except the attack on the ship
from the Cape Verd Islands, with which they were in hourly expectation of meeting. As
far as could be ascertained, the mutiny had not been brought about altogether for the sake
of booty; a private pique of the chief mate's against Captain Barnard having been the
main instigation. There now seemed to be two principal factions among the crew-one
headed by the mate, the other by the cook. The former party were for seizing the first
suitable vessel which should present itself, and equipping it at some of the West India
Islands for a piratical cruise. The latter division, however, which was the stronger, and
included Dirk Peters among its partisans, were bent upon pursuing the course originally
laid out for the brig into the South Pacific; there either to take whale, or act otherwise, as
circumstances should suggest. The representations of Peters, who had frequently visited
these regions, had great weight, apparently, with the mutineers, wavering, as they were,
between half-engendered notions of profit and pleasure. He dwelt on the world of novelty
and amusement to be found among the innumerable islands of the Pacific, on the perfect
security and freedom from all restraint to be enjoyed, but, more particularly, on the
deliciousness of the climate, on the abundant means of good living, and on the
voluptuous beauty of the women. As yet, nothing had been absolutely determined upon;
but the pictures of the hybrid line-manager were taking strong hold upon the ardent
imaginations of the seamen, and there was every possibility that his intentions would be
finally carried into effect.

The three men went away in about an hour, and no one else entered the forecastle all day.
Augustus lay quiet until nearly night. He then freed himself from the rope and irons, and
prepared for his attempt. A bottle was found in one of the berths, and this he filled with
water from the pitcher left by Peters, storing his pockets at the same time with cold
potatoes. To his great joy he also came across a lantern, with a small piece of tallow
candle in it. This he could light at any moment, as be had in his possession a box of
phosphorus matches. When it was quite dark, he got through the hole in the bulkhead,
having taken the precaution to arrange the bedclothes in the berth so as to convey the idea
of a person covered up. When through, he hung up the pea-jacket on his knife, as before,
to conceal the aperture-this manoeuvre being easily effected, as he did not readjust the
piece of plank taken out until afterward. He was now on the main orlop deck, and
proceeded to make his way, as before, between the upper deck and the oil-casks to the
main hatchway. Having reached this, he lit the piece of candle, and descended, groping
with extreme difficulty among the compact stowage of the hold. In a few moments he
became alarmed at the insufferable stench and the closeness of the atmosphere. He could

not think it possible that I had survived my confinement for so long a period breathing so
oppressive an air. He called my name repeatedly, but I made him no reply, and his
apprehensions seemed thus to be confirmed. The brig was rolling violently, and there was
so much noise in consequence, that it was useless to listen for any weak sound, such as
those of my breathing or snoring. He threw open the lantern, and held it as high as
possible, whenever an opportunity occurred, in order that, by observing the light, I might,
if alive, be aware that succor was approaching. Still nothing was heard from me, and the
supposition of my death began to assume the character of certainty. He determined,
nevertheless, to force a passage, if possible, to the box, and at least ascertain beyond a
doubt the truth of his surmises. He pushed on for some time in a most pitiable state of
anxiety, until, at length, he found the pathway utterly blocked up, and that there was no
possibility of making any farther way by the course in which he had set out. Overcome
now by his feelings, he threw himself among the lumber in despair, and wept like a child.
It was at this period that he heard the crash occasioned by the bottle which I had thrown
down. Fortunate, indeed, was it that the incident occurred-for, upon this incident, trivial
as it appears, the thread of my destiny depended. Many years elapsed, however, before I
was aware of this fact. A natural shame and regret for his weakness and indecision
prevented Augustus from confiding to me at once what a more intimate and unreserved
communion afterward induced him to reveal. Upon finding his further progress in the
hold impeded by obstacles which he could not overcome, he had resolved to abandon his
attempt at reaching me, and return at once to the forecastle. Before condemning him
entirely on this head, the harassing circumstances which embarrassed him should be
taken into consideration. The night was fast wearing away, and his absence from the
forecastle might be discovered; and indeed would necessarily be so, if be should fail to
get back to the berth by daybreak. His candle was expiring in the socket, and there would
be the greatest difficulty in retracing his way to the hatchway in the dark. It must be
allowed, too, that he had every good reason to believe me dead; in which event no benefit
could result to me from his reaching the box, and a world of danger would be
encountered to no purpose by himself. He had repeatedly called, and I had made him no
answer. I had been now eleven days and nights with no more water than that contained in
the jug which he had left with me-a supply which it was not at all probable I had boarded
in the beginning of my confinement, as I had every cause to expect a speedy release. The
atmosphere of the hold, too, must have appeared to him, coming from the comparatively
open air of the steerage, of a nature absolutely poisonous, and by far more intolerable
than it had seemed to me upon my first taking up my quarters in the box-the hatchways
at that time having been constantly open for many months previous. Add to these
considerations that of the scene of bloodshed and terror so lately witnessed by my friend;
his confinement, privations, and narrow escapes from death, together with the frail and
equivocal tenure by which he still existed-circumstances all so well calculated to
prostrate every energy of mind-and the reader will be easily brought, as I have been, to
regard his apparent falling off in friendship and in faith with sentiments rather of sorrow
than of anger.

The crash of the bottle was distinctly heard, yet Augustus was not sure that it proceeded
from the hold. The doubt, however, was sufficient inducement to persevere. He
clambered up nearly to the orlop deck by means of the stowage, and then, watching for a

lull in the pitchings of the vessel, he called out to me in as loud a tone as he could
command, regardless, for the moment, of being overheard by the crew. It will be
remembered that on this occasion the voice reached me, but I was so entirely overcome
by violent agitation as to be incapable of reply. Confident, now, that his worst
apprehensions were well founded, be descended, with a view of getting back to the
forecastle without loss of time. In his haste some small boxes were thrown down, the
noise occasioned by which I heard, as will be recollected. He had made considerable
progress on his return when the fall of the knife again caused him to hesitate. He retraced
his steps immediately, and, clambering up the stowage a second time, called out my
name, loudly as before, having watched for a lull. This time I found voice to answer.
Overjoyed at discovering me to be still alive, he now resolved to brave every difficulty
and danger in reaching me. Having extricated himself as quickly as possible from the
labyrinth of lumber by which he was hemmed in, he at length struck into an opening
which promised better, and finally, after a series of struggles, arrived at the box in a state
of utter exhaustion.

CHAPTER VI

The leading particulars of this narration were all that Augustus communicated to me
while we remained near the box. It was not until afterward that he entered fully into all
the details. He was apprehensive of being missed, and I was wild with impatience to
leave my detested place of confinement. We resolved to make our way at once to the hole
in the bulkhead, near which I was to remain for the present, while he went through to
reconnoiter. To leave Tiger in the box was what neither of us could endure to think of,
yet, how to act otherwise was the question. He now seemed to be perfectly quiet, and we
could not even distinguish the sound of his breathing upon applying our ears closely to
the box. I was convinced that he was dead, and determined to open the door. We found
him lying at full length, apparently in a deep stupor, yet still alive.

No time was to be lost,
yet I could not bring myself to abandon an animal who had now been twice instrumental
in saving my life, without some attempt at preserving him. We therefore dragged him
along with us as well as we could, although with the greatest difficulty and fatigue;
Augustus, during part of the time, being forced to clamber over the impediments in our
way with the huge dog in his arms-a feat to which the feebleness of my frame rendered
me totally inadequate. At length we succeeded in reaching the hole, when Augustus got
through, and Tiger was pushed in afterward. All was found to be safe, and we did not fail
to return sincere thanks to God for our deliverance from the imminent danger we had
escaped. For the present, it was agreed that I should remain near the opening, through
which my companion could readily supply me with a part of his daily provision, and
where I could have the advantages of breathing an atmosphere comparatively pure.

In explanation of some portions of this narrative, wherein I have spoken of the stowage of
the brig, and which may appear ambiguous to some of my readers who may have seen a
proper or regular stowage, I must here state that the manner in which this most important
duty had been per formed on board the Grampus was a most shameful piece of neglect on
the part of Captain Barnard, who was by no means as careful or as experienced a seaman
as the hazardous nature of the service on which he was employed would seem necessarily

to demand. A proper stowage cannot be accomplished in a careless manner, and many
most disastrous accidents, even within the limits of my own experience, have arisen from
neglect or ignorance in this particular. Coasting vessels, in the frequent hurry and bustle
attendant upon taking in or discharging cargo, are the most liable to mishap from the
want of a proper attention to stowage. The great point is to allow no possibility of the
cargo or ballast shifting position even in the most violent rollings of the vessel. With this
end, great attention must be paid, not only to the bulk taken in, but to the nature of the
bulk, and whether there be a full or only a partial cargo. In most kinds of freight the
stowage is accomplished by means of a screw. Thus, in a load of tobacco or flour, the
whole is screwed so tightly into the hold of the vessel that the barrels or hogsheads, upon
discharging, are found to be completely flattened, and take some time to regain their
original shape. This screwing, however, is resorted to principally with a view of obtaining
more room in the hold; for in a full load of any such commodities as flour or tobacco,
there can be no danger of any shifting whatever, at least none from which inconvenience
can result. There have been instances, indeed, where this method of screwing has resulted
in the most lamentable consequences, arising from a cause altogether distinct from the
danger attendant upon a shifting of cargo. A load of cotton, for example, tightly screwed
while in certain conditions, has been known, through the expansion of its bulk, to rend a
vessel asunder at sea. There can be no doubt either that the same result would ensue in
the case of tobacco, while undergoing its usual course of fermentation, were it not for the
interstices consequent upon the rotundity of the hogsheads.

It is when a partial cargo is received that danger is chiefly to be apprehended from
shifting, and that precautions should be always taken to guard against such misfortune.
Only those who have encountered a violent gale of wind, or rather who have experienced
the rolling of a vessel in a sudden calm after the gale, can form an idea of the tremendous
force of the plunges, and of the consequent terrible impetus given to all loose articles in
the vessel. It is then that the necessity of a cautious stowage, when there is a partial cargo,
becomes obvious. When lying-to (especially with a small bead sail), a vessel which is not
properly modelled in the bows is frequently thrown upon her beam-ends; this occurring
even every fifteen or twenty minutes upon an average, yet without any serious
consequences resulting, provided there be a proper stowage. If this, however, has not
been strictly attended to, in the first of these heavy lurches the whole of the cargo tumbles
over to the side of the vessel which lies upon the water, and, being thus prevented from
regaining her equilibrium, as she would otherwise necessarily do, she is certain to fill in a
few seconds and go down. It is not too much to say that at least one-half of the instances
in which vessels have foundered in heavy gales at sea may be attributed to a shifting of
cargo or of ballast.

When a partial cargo of any kind is taken on board, the whole, after being first stowed as
compactly as may be, should be covered with a layer of stout shifting-boards, extending
completely across the vessel. Upon these boards strong temporary stanchions should be
erected, reaching to the timbers above, and thus securing every thing in its place. In
cargoes consisting of grain, or any similar matter, additional precautions are requisite. A
hold filled entirely with grain upon leaving port will be found not more than three fourths
full upon reaching its destination-this, too, although the freight, when measured bushel

by bushel by the consignee, will overrun by a vast deal (on account of the swelling of the
grain) the quantity consigned. This result is occasioned by settling during the voyage, and
is the more perceptible in proportion to the roughness of the weather experienced. If grain
loosely thrown in a vessel, then, is ever so well secured by shifting-boards and
stanchions, it will be liable to shift in a long passage so greatly as to bring about the most
distressing calamities. To prevent these, every method should be employed before
leaving port to settle the cargo as much as possible; and for this there are many
contrivances, among which may be mentioned the driving of wedges into the grain. Even
after all this is done, and unusual pains taken to secure the shifting-boards, no seaman
who knows what he is about will feel altogether secure in a gale of any violence with a
cargo of grain on board, and, least of all, with a partial cargo. Yet there are hundreds of
our coasting vessels, and, it is likely, many more from the ports of Europe, which sail
daily with partial cargoes, even of the most dangerous species, and without any
precaution whatever. The wonder is that no more accidents occur than do actually
happen. A lamentable instance of this heedlessness occurred to my knowledge in the case
of Captain Joel Rice of the schooner Firefly, which sailed from Richmond, Virginia, to
Madeira, with a cargo of corn, in the year 1825. The captain had gone many voyages
without serious accident, although he was in the habit of paying no attention whatever to
his stowage, more than to secure it in the ordinary manner. He had never before sailed
with a cargo of grain, and on this occasion had the com thrown on board loosely, when it
did not much more than half fill the vessel. For the first portion of the voyage he met with
nothing more than light breezes; but when within a day's sail of Madeira there came on a
strong gale from the N. N. E. which forced him to lie-to. He brought the schooner to the
wind under a double-reefed foresail alone, when she rode as well as any vessel could be
expected to do, and shipped not a drop of water. Toward night the gale somewhat abated,
and she rolled with more unsteadiness than before, but still did very well, until a heavy
lurch threw her upon her beam-ends to starboard. The corn was then heard to shift bodily,
the force of the movement bursting open the main hatchway. The vessel went down like a
shot. This happened within hail of a small sloop from Madeira, which picked up one of
the crew (the only person saved), and which rode out the gale in perfect security, as
indeed a jolly boat might have done under proper management.

The stowage on board the Grampus was most clumsily done, if stowage that could be
called which was little better than a promiscuous huddling together of oil-casks* and ship
furniture. I have already spoken of the condition of articles in the hold. On the orlop deck
there was space enough for my body (as I have stated) between the oil-casks and the
upper deck; a space was left open around the main hatchway; and several other large
spaces were left in the stowage. Near the hole cut through the bulkhead by Augustus
there was room enough for an entire cask, and in this space I found myself comfortably
situated for the present.

* Whaling vessels are usually fitted with iron oil-tanks-why the Grampus was not I have
never been able to ascertain.

By the time my friend had got safely into the berth, and readjusted his handcuffs and the
rope, it was broad daylight. We had made a narrow escape indeed; for scarcely had he

arranged all matters, when the mate came below, with Dirk Peters and the cook. They
talked for some time about the vessel from the Cape Verds, and seemed to be excessively
anxious for her appearance. At length the cook came to the berth in which Augustus was
lying, and seated himself in it near the head. I could see and hear every thing from my
hiding-place, for the piece cut out had not been put back, and I was in momentary
expectation that the negro would fall against the pea-jacket, which was hung up to
conceal the aperture, in which case all would have been discovered, and our lives would,
no doubt, have been instantly sacrificed. Our good fortune prevailed, however; and
although he frequently touched it as the vessel rolled, he never pressed against it
sufficiently to bring about a discovery. The bottom of the jacket had been carefully
fastened to the bulkhead, so that the hole might not be seen by its swinging to one side.
All this time Tiger was lying in the foot of the berth, and appeared to have recovered in
some measure his faculties, for I could see him occasionally open his eyes and draw a
long breath.

After a few minutes the mate and cook went above, leaving Dirk Peters behind, who, as
soon as they were gone, came and sat himself down in the place just occupied by the
mate. He began to talk very sociably with Augustus, and we could now see that the
greater part of his apparent intoxication, while the two others were with him, was a feint.
He answered all my companion's questions with perfect freedom; told him that he had no
doubt of his father's having been picked up, as there were no less than five sail in sight
just before sundown on the day he was cut adrift; and used other language of a
consolatory nature, which occasioned me no less surprise than pleasure. Indeed, I began
to entertain hopes, that through the instrumentality of Peters we might be finally enabled
to regain possession of the brig, and this idea I mentioned to Augustus as soon as I found
an opportunity. He thought the matter possible, but urged the necessity of the greatest
caution in making the attempt, as the conduct of the hybrid appeared to be instigated by
the most arbitrary caprice alone; and, indeed, it was difficult to say if be was at any
moment of sound mind. Peters went upon deck in about an hour, and did not return again
until noon, when he brought Augustus a plentiful supply of junk beef and pudding. Of
this, when we were left alone, I partook heartily, without returning through the hole. No
one else came down into the forecastle during the day, and at night, I got into Augustus'
berth, where I slept soundly and sweetly until nearly daybreak, when he awakened me
upon hearing a stir upon deck, and I regained my hiding-place as quickly as possible.
When the day was fully broke, we found that Tiger had recovered his strength almost
entirely, and gave no indications of hydrophobia, drinking a little water that was offered
him with great apparent eagerness. During the day he regained all his former vigour and
appetite. His strange conduct had been brought on, no doubt, by the deleterious quality of
the air of the hold, and had no connexion with canine madness. I could not sufficiently
rejoice that I had persisted in bringing him with me from the box. This day was the
thirtieth of June, and the thirteenth since the Grampus made sad from Nantucket.

On the second of July the mate came below drunk as usual, and in an excessively good-
humor. He came to Augustus's berth, and, giving him a slap on the back, asked him if he
thought he could behave himself if he let him loose, and whether he would promise not to
be going into the cabin again. To this, of course, my friend answered in the affirmative.

when the ruffian set him at liberty, after making him drink from a flask of rum which he
drew from his coat-pocket. Both now went on deck, and I did not see Augustus for about
three hours. He then came below with the good news that he had obtained permission to
go about the brig as be pleased anywhere forward of the mainmast, and that he had been
ordered to sleep, as usual, in the forecastle. He brought me, too, a good dinner, and a
plentiful supply of water. The brig was still cruising for the vessel from the Cape Verds,
and a sail was now in sight, which was thought to be the one in question. As the events of
the ensuing eight days were of little importance, and had no direct bearing upon the main
incidents of my narrative, I will here throw them into the form of a journal, as I do not
wish to omit them altogether.

July 3. -Augustus furnished me with three blankets, with which I contrived a comfortable
bed in my hiding-place. No one came below, except my companion, during the day. Tiger
took his station in the berth just by the aperture, and slept heavily, as if not yet entirely
recovered from the effects of his sickness. Toward night a flaw of wind struck the brig
before sail could be taken in, and very nearly capsized her. The puff died away
immediately, however, and no damage was done beyond the sphtting of the foretopsail.
Dirk Peters treated Augustus all this day with great kindness and entered into a long
conversation with him respecting the Pacific Ocean, and the islands he had visited in that
region. He asked him whether be would not like to go with the mutineers on a kind of
exploring and pleasure voyage in those quarters, and said that the men were gradually
coming over to the mate's views. To this Augustus thought it best to reply that he would
be glad to go on such an adventure, since nothing better could be done, and that any thing
was preferable to a piratical life.

July 4.-The vessel in sight proved to be a small brig from Liverpool, and was allowed to
pass unmolested. Augustus spent most of his time on deck, with a view of obtaining all
the information in his power respecting the intentions of the mutineers. They had frequent
and violent quarrels among themselves, in one of which a harpooner, Jim Bonner, was
thrown overboard. The party of the mate was gaining ground. Jim Bonner belonged to the
cook's gang, of which Peters was a partisan.

July 5. -About daybreak there came on a stiff breeze from the west, which at noon
freshened into a gale, so that the brig could carry nothing more than her trysail and
foresail. In taking in the foretopsail, Simms, one of the common hands, and belonging
also to the cook's gang, fell overboard, being very much in liquor, and was drowned-no
attempt being made to save him. The whole number of persons on board was now
thirteen, to wit: Dirk Peters; Seymour, the of the cook's party; the mate, whose name I
never learned; Absalom party;-besides Augustus and myself.

July 6.-The gale lasted all this day, blowing in heavy squalls, accompanied with rain. The
brig took in a good deal of water through her seams, and one of the pumps was kept
continually going, Augustus being forced to take his turn, just at twilight a large ship
passed close by us, without having been discovered until within hail. The ship was
supposed to be the one for which the mutineers were on the lookout. The mate hailed her,
but the reply was drowned in the roaring of the gale. At eleven, a sea was shipped

amidships, which tore away a great portion of the larboard bulwarks, and did some other
slight damage. Toward morning the weather moderated, and at sunrise there was very
little wind.

July 7. -There was a heavy swell running all this day, during which the brig, being light,
rolled excessively, and many articles broke loose in the hold, as I could hear distinctly
from my hiding-place. I suffered a great deal from sea-sickness. Peters had a long
conversation this day with Augustus, and told him that two of his gang, Greely and Allan,
had gone over to the mate, and were resolved to turn pirates. He put several questions to
Augustus which he did not then exactly understand. During a part of this evening the leak
gained upon the vessel; and little could be done to remedy it, as it was occasioned by the
brigs straining, and taking in the water through her seams. A sail was thrummed, and got
under the bows, which aided us in some measure, so that we began to gain upon the leak.

July 8. -A light breeze sprang up at sunrise from the eastward, when the mate headed the
brig to the southwest, with the intention of making some of the West India islands in
pursuance of his piratical designs. No opposition was made by Peters or the cook-at least
none in the hearing of Augustus. All idea of taking the vessel from the Cape Verds was
abandoned. The leak was now easily kept under by one pump going every three quarters
of an hour. The sail was drawn from beneath the bows. Spoke two small schooners
during the day.

July 9.-Fine weather. All hands employed in repairing bulwarks. Peters had again a long
conversation with Augustus, and spoke more plainly than he had done heretofore. He said
nothing should induce him to come into the mate's views, and even hinted his intention of
taking the brig out of his hands. He asked my friend if he could depend upon his aid in
such case, to which Augustus said, "Yes," without hesitation. Peters then said he would
sound the others of his party upon the subject, and went away. During the remainder of
the day Augustus had no opportunity of speaking with him privately.

CHAPTER VII

July lO.-Spoke a brig from Rio, bound to Norfolk. Weather hazy, with a light baffling
wind from the eastward. To-day Hartman Rogers died, having been attacked on the
eighth with spasms after drinking a glass of grog. This man was of the cook's party, and
one upon whom Peters placed his main reliance. He told Augustus that he believed the
mate had poisoned him, and that he expected, if he did not be on the look-out, his own
turn would come shortly. There were now only himself, Jones, and the cook belonging to
his own gang-on the other side there were five. He had spoken to Jones about taking the
command from the mate; but the project having been coolly received, he had been
deterred from pressing the matter any further, or from saying any thing to the cook. It was
well, as it happened, that he was so prudent, for in the afternoon the cook expressed his
determination of siding with the mate, and went over formally to that party; while Jones
took an opportunity of quarrelling with Peters, and hinted that he would let the mate
know of the plan in agitation. There was now, evidently, no time to be lost, and Peters
expressed his determination of attempting to take the vessel at all hazards, provided

Augustus would lend him his aid. My friend at once assured him of his willingness to
enter into any plan for that purpose, and, thinking the opportunity a favourable one, made
known the fact of my being on board. At this the hybrid was not more astonished than
delighted, as he had no reliance whatever upon Jones, whom he already considered as
belonging to the party of the mate. They went below immediately, when Augustus called
to me by name, and Peters and myself were soon made acquainted. It was agreed that we
should attempt to retake the vessel upon the first good opportunity, leaving Jones
altogether out of our councils. In the event of success, we were to run the brig into the
first port that offered, and deliver her up. The desertion of his party had frustrated Peters'
design of going into the Pacific-an adventure which could not be accomplished without a
crew, and he depended upon either getting acquitted upon trial, on the score of insanity
(which he solemnly avowed had actuated him in lending his aid to the mutiny), or upon
obtaining a pardon, if found guilty, through the representations of Augustus and myself.
Our deliberations were interrupted for the present by the cry of, "All hands take in sail,"
and Peters and Augustus ran up on deck.

As usual, the crew were nearly all drunk; and, before sail could be properly taken in, a
violent squall laid the brig on her beam-ends. By keeping her away, however, she righted,
having shipped a good deal of water. Scarcely was everything secure, when another
squall took the vessel, and immediately afterward another-no damage being done. There
was every appearance of a gale of wind, which, indeed, shortly came on, with great fury,
from the northward and westward. All was made as snug as possible, and we laid-to, as
usual, under a close-reefed foresail. As night drew on, the wind increased in violence,
with a remarkably heavy sea. Peters now came into the forecastle with Augustus, and we
resumed our deliberations.

We agreed that no opportunity could be more favourable than the present for carrying our
designs into effect, as an attempt at such a moment would never be anticipated. As the
brig was snugly laid-to, there would be no necessity of manoeuvring her until good
weather, when, if we succeeded in our attempt, we might liberate one, or perhaps two of
the men, to aid us in taking her into port. The main difficulty was the great disproportion
in our forces. There were only three of us, and in the cabin there were nine. All the arms
on board, too, were in their possession, with the exception of a pair of small pistols which
Peters had concealed about his person, and the large seaman's knife which he always
wore in the waistband of his pantaloons. From certain indications, too-such, for example,
as there being no such thing as an axe or a handspike lying in their customary places-we
began to fear that the mate had his suspicions, at least in regard to Peters, and that he
would let slip no opportunity of getting rid of him. It was clear, indeed, that what we
should determine to do could not be done too soon. Still the odds were too much against
us to allow of our proceeding without the greatest caution.

Peters proposed that he should go up on deck, and enter into conversation with the watch
(Allan), when he would be able to throw him into the sea without trouble, and without
making any disturbance, by seizing a good opportunity, that Augustus and myself should
then come up, and endeavour to provide ourselves with some kind of weapons from the
deck, and that we should then make a rush together, and secure the companion-way

before any opposition could be offered. I objected to this, because I could not believe that
the mate (who was a cunning fellow in all matters which did not affect his superstitious
prejudices) would suffer himself to be so easily entrapped. The very fact of there being a
watch on deck at all was sufficient proof that he was upon the alert,-it not being usual
except in vessels where discipline is most rigidly enforced, to station a watch on deck
when a vessel is lying-to in a gale of wind. As I address myself principally, if not
altogether, to persons who have never been to sea, it may be as well to state the exact
condition of a vessel under such circumstances. Lying-to, or, in sea-parlance, "laying-to,"
is a measure resorted to for various purposes, and effected in various manners. In
moderate weather it is frequently done with a view of merely bringing the vessel to a
stand-still, to wait for another vessel or any similar object. If the vessel which lies-to is
under full sail, the manoeuvre is usually accomplished by throwing round some portion
of her sails, so as to let the wind take them aback, when she becomes stationary. But we
are now speaking of lying-to in a gale of wind. This is done when the wind is ahead, and
too violent to admit of carrying sail without danger of capsizing; and sometimes even
when the wind is fair, but the sea too heavy for the vessel to be put before it. If a vessel
be suffered to scud before the wind in a very heavy sea, much damage is usually done her
by the shipping of water over her stern, and sometimes by the violent plunges she makes
forward. This manoeuvre, then, is seldom resorted to in such case, unless through
necessity. When the vessel is in a leaky condition she is often put before the wind even in
the heaviest seas; for, when lying-to, her seams are sure to be greatly opened by her
violent straining, and it is not so much the case when scudding. Often, too, it becomes
necessary to scud a vessel, either when the blast is so exceedingly furious as to tear in
pieces the sail which is employed with a view of bringing her head to the wind, or when,
through the false modelling of the frame or other causes, this main object cannot be
effected.

Vessels in a gale of wind are laid-to in different manners, according to their peculiar
construction. Some lie-to best under a foresail, and this, I believe, is the sail most usually
employed. Large square-rigged vessels have sails for the express purpose, called storm-
staysails. But the jib is occasionally employed by itself,- sometimes the jib and foresail,
or a double-reefed foresail, and not unfrequently the after-sails, are made use of.
Foretopsails are very often found to answer the purpose better than any other species of
sail. The Grampus was generally laid-to under a close -reefed foresail.

When a vessel is to be laid-to, her head is brought up to the wind just so nearly as to fill
the sail under which she lies when hauled flat aft, that is, when brought diagonally across
the vessel. This being done, the bows point within a few degrees of the direction from
which the wind issues, and the windward bow of course receives the shock of the waves.
In this situation a good vessel will ride out a very heavy gale of wind without shipping a
drop of water, and without any further attention being requisite on the part of the crew.
The helm is usually lashed down, but this is altogether unnecessary (except on account of
the noise it makes when loose), for the rudder has no effect upon the vessel when lying-
to. Indeed, the helm had far better be left loose than lashed very fast, for the rudder is apt
to be torn off by heavy seas if there be no room for the helm to play. As long as the sail
holds, a well modelled vessel will maintain her situation, and ride every sea, as if instinct

with life and reason. If the violence of the wind, however, should tear the sail into pieces
(a feat which it requires a perfect hurricane to accomplish under ordinary circumstances),
there is then imminent danger. The vessel falls off from the wind, and, coming broadside
to the sea, is completely at its mercy: the only resource in this case is to put her quietly
before the wind, letting her scud until some other sail can be set. Some vessels will lie-to
under no sail whatever, but such are not to be trusted at sea.

But to return from this digression. It had never been customary with the mate to have any
watch on deck when lying-to in a gale of wind, and the fact that he had now one, coupled
with the circumstance of the missing axes and handspikes, fully convinced us that the
crew were too well on the watch to be taken by surprise in the manner Peters had
suggested. Something, however, was to be done, and that with as little delay as
practicable, for there could be no doubt that a suspicion having been once entertained
against Peters, he would be sacrificed upon the earliest occasion, and one would certainly
be either found or made upon the breaking of the gale.

Augustus now suggested that if Peters could contrive to remove, under any pretext, the
piece of chain-cable which lay over the trap in the stateroom, we might possibly be able
to come upon them unawares by means of the hold; but a little reflection convinced us
that the vessel rolled and pitched too violently for any attempt of that nature.

By good fortune I at length hit upon the idea of working upon the superstitious terrors
and guilty conscience of the mate. It will be remembered that one of the crew, Hartman
Rogers, had died during the morning, having been attacked two days before with spasms
after drinking some spirits and water. Peters had expressed to us his opinion that this man
had been poisoned by the mate, and for this belief he had reasons, so he said, which were
incontrovertible, but which he could not be pre. vailed upon to explain to us-this
wayward refusal being only in keeping with other points of his singular character. But
whether or not he had any better grounds for suspecting the mate than we had ourselves,
we were easily led to fall in with his suspicion, and determined to act accordingly.

Rogers had died about eleven in the forenoon, in violent convulsions; and the corpse
presented in a few minutes after death one of the most horrid and loathsome spectacles I
ever remember to have seen. The stomach was swollen immensely, like that of a man
who has been drowned and lain under water for many weeks. The hands were in the same
condition, while the face was shrunken, shrivelled, and of a chalky whiteness, except
where relieved by two or three glaring red blotches like those occasioned by the
erysipelas: one of these blotches extended diagonally across the face, completely
covering up an eye as if with a band of red velvet. In this disgusting condition the body
had been brought up from the cabin at noon to be thrown overboard, when the mate
getting a glimpse of it (for he now saw it for the first time), and being either touched with
remorse for his crime or struck with terror at so horrible a sight, ordered the men to sew
the body up in its hammock, and allow it the usual rites of sea-burial. Having given these
directions, he went below, as if to avoid any further sight of his victim. While
preparations were making to obey his orders, the gale came on with great fury, and the
design was abandoned for the present. The corpse, left to itself, was washed into the

larboard scuppers, where it still lay at the time of which I speak, floundering about with
the furious lurches of the brig.

Having arranged our plan, we set about putting it in execution as speedily as possible.
Peters went upon deck, and, as he had anticipated, was immediately accosted by Allan,
who appeared to be stationed more as a watch upon the forecastle than for any other
purpose. The fate of this villain, however, was speedily and silently decided; for Peters,
approaching him in a careless manner, as if about to address him, seized him by the
throat, and, before he could utter a single cry, tossed him over the bulwarks. He then
called to us, and we came up. Our first precaution was to look about for something with
which to arm ourselves, and in doing this we had to proceed with great care, for it was
impossible to stand on deck an instant without holding fast, and violent seas broke over
the vessel at every plunge forward. It was indispensable, too, that we should be quick in
our operations, for every minute we expected the mate to be up to set the pumps going, as
it was evident the brig must be taking in water very fast. After searching about for some
time, we could find nothing more fit for our purpose than the two pump-handles, one of
which Augustus took, and I the other. Having secured these, we stripped off the shirt of
the corpse and dropped the body overboard. Peters and myself then went below, leaving
Augustus to watch upon deck, where he took his station just where Allan had been
placed, and with his back to the cabin companionway, so that, if any of the mates gang
should come up, he might suppose it was the watch.

As soon as I got below I commenced disguising myself so as to represent the corpse of
Rogers. The shirt which we had taken from the body aided us very much, for it was of
singular form and character, and easily recognizable-a kind of smock, which the
deceased wore over his other clothing. It was a blue stockinett, with large white stripes
running across. Having put this on, I proceeded to equip myself with a false stomach, in
imitation of the horrible deformity of the swollen corpse. This was soon effected by
means of stuffing with some bedclothes. I then gave the same appearance to my hands by
drawing on a pair of white woollen mittens, and filling them in with any kind of rags that
offered themselves. Peters then arranged my face, first rubbing it well over with white
chalk, and afterward blotching it with blood, which he took from a cut in his finger. The
streak across the eye was not forgotten and presented a most shocking appearance.

CHAPTER VIII

As I viewed myself in a fragment of looking-glass which hung up in the cabin, and by the
dim light of a kind of battle-lantern, I was so impressed with a sense of vague awe at my
appearance, and at the recollection of the terrific reality which I was thus representing,
that I was seized with a violent tremour, and could scarcely summon resolution to go on
with my part. It was necessary, however, to act with decision, and Peters and myself went
upon deck.

We there found everything safe, and, keeping close to the bulwarks, the three of us crept
to the cabin companion-way. It was only partially closed, precautions having been taken
to prevent its being suddenly pushed to from without, by means of placing billets of wood

on the upper step so as to interfere with the shutting. We found no difficulty in getting a
full view of the interior of the cabin through the cracks where the hinges were placed. It
now proved to have been very fortunate for us that we had not attempted to take them by
surprise, for they were evidently on the alert. Only one was asleep, and he lying just at
the foot of the companion-ladder, with a musket by his side. The rest were seated on
several mattresses, which had been taken from the berths and thrown on the floor. They
were engaged in earnest conversation; and although they had been carousing, as appeared
from two empty jugs, with some tin tumblers which lay about, they were not as much
intoxicated as usual. All had knives, one or two of them pistols, and a great many
muskets were lying in a berth close at hand.

We listened to their conversation for some time before we could make up our minds how
to act, having as yet resolved on nothing determinate, except that we would attempt to
paralyze their exertions, when we should attack them, by means of the apparition of
Rogers. They were discussing their piratical plans, in which all we could hear distinctly
was, that they would unite with the crew of a schooner Hornet, and, if possible, get the
schooner herself into their possession preparatory to some attempt on a large scale, the
particulars of which could not be made out by either of us.

One of the men spoke of Peters, when the mate replied to him in a low voice which could
not be distinguished, and afterward added more loudly, that "he could not understand his
being so much forward with the captain's brat in the forecastle, and he thought the sooner
both of them were overboard the better." To this no answer was made, but we could
easily perceive that the hint was well received by the whole party, and more particularly
by Jones. At this period I was excessively agitated, the more so as I could see that neither
Augustus nor Peters could determine how to act. I made up my mind, however, to sell my
life as dearly as possible, and not to suffer myself to be overcome by any feelings of
trepidation.

The tremendous noise made by the roaring of the wind in the rigging, and the washing of
the sea over the deck, prevented us from hearing what was said, except during
momentary lulls. In one of these, we all distinctly heard the mate tell one of the men to
"go forward, have an eye upon them, for he wanted no such secret doings on board the
brig." It was well for us that the pitching of the vessel at this moment was so violent as to
prevent this order from being carried into instant execution. The cook got up from his
mattress to go for us, when a tremendous lurch, which I thought would carry away the
masts, threw him headlong against one of the larboard stateroom doors, bursting it open,
and creating a good deal of other confusion. Luckily, neither of our party was thrown
from his position, and we had time to make a precipitate retreat to the forecastle, and
arrange a hurried plan of action before the messenger made his appearance, or rather
before he put his head out of the companion-hatch, for he did not come on deck. From
this station he could not notice the absence of Allan, and he accordingly bawled out, as if
to him, repeating the orders of the mate. Peters cried out, "Ay, ay," in a disguised voice,
and the cook immediately went below, without entertaining a suspicion that all was not
right.

My two companions now proceeded boldly aft and down into the cabin, Peters closing
the door after him in the same manner he had found it. The mate received them with
feigned cordiality, and told Augustus that, since he had behaved himself so well of late,
he might take up his quarters in the cabin and be one of them for the future. He then
poured him out a tumbler half full of rum, and made him drink it. All this I saw and
heard, for I followed my friends to the cabin as soon as the door was shut, and took up
my old point of observation. I had brought with me the two pump-handles, one of which I
secured near the companion-way, to be ready for use when required.

I now steadied myself as well as possible so as to have a good view of all that was
passing within, and endeavoured to nerve myself to the task of descending among the
mutineers when Peters should make a signal to me, as agreed upon. Presently he
contrived to turn the conversation upon the bloody deeds of the mutiny, and by degrees
led the men to talk of the thousand superstitions which are so universally current among
seamen. I could not make out all that was said, but I could plainly see the effects of the
conversation in the countenances of those present. The mate was evidently much agitated,
and presently, when some one mentioned the terrific appearance of Rogers' corpse, I
thought he was upon the point of swooning. Peters now asked him if he did not think it
would be better to have the body thrown overboard at once as it was too horrible a sight
to see it floundering about in the scuppers. At this the villain absolutely gasped for
breath, and turned his head slowly round upon his companions, as if imploring some one
to go up and perform the task. No one, however, stirred, and it was quite evident that the
whole party were wound up to the highest pitch of nervous excitement. Peters now made
me the signal. I immediately threw open the door of the companion-way, and,
descending, without uttering a syllable, stood erect in the midst of the party.

The intense effect produced by this sudden apparition is not at all to be wondered at when
the various circumstances are taken into consideration. Usually, in cases of a similar
nature, there is left in the mind of the spectator some glimmering of doubt as to the reality
of the vision before his eyes; a degree of hope, however feeble, that he is the victim of
chicanery, and that the apparition is not actually a visitant from the old world of shadows.
It is not too much to say that such remnants of doubt have been at the bottom of almost
every such visitation, and that the appalling horror which has sometimes been brought
about, is to be attributed, even in the cases most in point, and where most suffering has
been experienced, more to a kind of anticipative horror, lest the apparition might possibly
be real, than to an unwavering belief in its reality. But, in the present instance, it will be
seen immediately, that in the minds of the mutineers there was not even the shadow of a
basis upon which to rest a doubt that the apparition of Rogers was indeed a revivification
of his disgusting corpse, or at least its spiritual image. The isolated situation of the brig,
with its entire inaccessibility on account of the gale, confined the apparently possible
means of deception within such narrow and definite limits, that they must have thought
themselves enabled to survey them all at a glance. They had now been at sea twenty-four
days, without holding more than a speaking communication with any vessel whatever.
The whole of the crew, too-at least all whom they had the most remote reason for
suspecting to be on board-were assembled in the cabin, with the exception of Allan, the
watch; and his gigantic stature (be was six feet six inches high) was too familiar in their

eyes to permit the notion that he was the apparition before them to enter their minds even
for an instant. Add to these considerations the awe-inspiring nature of the tempest, and
that of the conversation brought about by Peters; the deep impression which the
loathsomeness of the actual corpse had made in the morning upon the imaginations of the
men; the excellence of the imitation in my person, and the uncertain and wavering light in
which they beheld me, as the glare of the cabin lantern, swinging violently to and fro, fell
dubiously and fitfully upon my figure, and there will be no reason to wonder that the
deception had even more than the entire effect which we had anticipated. The mate
sprang up from the mattress on which he was lying, and, without uttering a syllable, fell
back, stone dead, upon the cabin floor, and was hurled to the leeward like a log by a
heavy roll of the brig. Of the remaining seven, there were but three who had at first any
degree of presence of mind. The four others sat for some time rooted apparently to the
floor, the most pitiable objects of horror and utter despair my eyes ever encountered. The
only opposition we experienced at all was from the cook, John Hunt, and Richard Parker;
but they made but a feeble and irresolute defence. The two former were shot instantly by
Peters, and I felled Parker with a blow on the head from the pump-handle which I had
brought with me. In the meantime, Augustus seized one of the muskets lying on the floor
now but three remaining; but by this time they had become aroused from their lethargy,
and perhaps began to see that a deception had been practised upon them, for they fought
with great resolution and fury, and, but for the immense muscular strength of Peters,
might have the floor, stabbed him in several places along the right arm, and would no
doubt have soon dispatched him (as neither Peters nor myself could immediately get rid
of our own antagonists) had it not been for the timely aid of a friend, upon whose
assistance we, surely, had never depended. This friend was no other than Tiger. With a
low growl, he bounded into the cabin, at a most critical moment for Augustus, and
throwing himself upon Jones, pinned him to the floor in an instant. My friend, however,
was now too much injured to render us any aid whatever, and I was so encumbered with
my disguise that I could do but little. The dog would not leave his hold upon the throat of
Jones-Peters, nevertheless, was far more than a match for the two men who remained,
and would, no doubt, have dispatched them sooner, had it not been for the narrow space
in which he had to act, and the tremendous lurches of the vessel. Presently he was
enabled to get hold of a heavy stool, several of which lay about the floor. With this he
beat out the brains of Greely as he was in the act of discharging a musket at me, and
immediately afterward a roll of the brig throwing him in contact with Hicks, he seized
him by the throat, and, by dint of sheer strength, strangled him instantaneously. Thus, in
far less time than I have taken to tell it, we found ourselves masters of the brig.

The only person of our opponents who was left alive was Richard Parker. This man, it
will be remembered, I had knocked down with a blow from the pump-handle at the
commencement of the attack. He now lay motionless by the door of the shattered
stateroom; but, upon Peters touching him with his foot, he spoke, and entreated for
mercy. His head was only slightly cut, and otherwise he had received no injury, having
been merely stunned by the blow. He now got up, and, for the present, we secured his
hands behind his back. The dog was still growling over Jones; but, upon examination, we
found him completely dead, the blood issuing in a stream from a deep wound in the
throat, inflicted, no doubt, by the sharp teeth of the animal.

It was now about one o'clock in the morning, and the wind was still blowing
tremendously. The brig evidently laboured much more than usual, and it became
absolutely necessary that something should be done with a view of easing her in some
measure. At almost every roll to leeward she shipped a sea, several of which came
partially down into the cabin during our scuffle, the hatchway having been left open by
myself when I descended. The entire range of bulwarks to larboard had been swept away,
as well as the caboose, together with the joUyboat from the counter. The creaking and
working of the mainmast, too, gave indication that it was nearly sprung. To make room
for more stowage in the afterhold, the heel of this mast had been stepped between decks
(a very reprehensible practice, occasionally resorted to by ignorant ship-builders), so that
it was in imminent danger of working from its step. But, to crown all our difficulties, we
plummed the well, and found no less than seven feet of water.

Leaving the bodies of the crew lying in the cabin, we got to work immediately at the
pumps-Parker, of course, being set at liberty to assist us in the labour. Augustus's arm
was bound up as well as we could effect it, and he did what he could, but that was not
much. However, we found that we could just manage to keep the leak from gaining upon
us by having one pump constantly going. As there were only four of us, this was severe
labour; but we endeavoured to keep up our spirits, and looked anxiously for daybreak,
when we hoped to lighten the brig by cutting away the mainmast.

In this manner we passed a night of terrible anxiety and fatigue, and, when the day at
length broke, the gale had neither abated in the least, nor were there any signs of its
abating. We now dragged the bodies on deck and threw them overboard. Our next care
was to get rid of the mainmast. The necessary preparations having been made, Peters cut
away at the mast (having found axes in the cabin), while the rest of us stood by the stays
and lanyards. As the brig gave a tremendous lee-lurch, the word was given to cut away
the weather-lanyards, which being done, the whole mass of wood and rigging plunged
into the sea, clear of the brig, and without doing any material injury. We now found that
the vessel did not labour quite as much as before, but our situation was still exceedingly
precarious, and in spite of the utmost exertions, we could not gain upon the leak without
the aid of both pumps. The little assistance which Augustus could render us was not
really of any importance. To add to our distress, a heavy sea, striking the brig to the
windward, threw her off several points from the wind, and, before she could regain her
position, another broke completely over her, and hurled her full upon her beam-ends. The
ballast now shifted in a mass to leeward (the stowage had been knocking about perfectly
at random for some time), and for a few moments we thought nothing could save us from
capsizing. Presently, however, we partially righted; but the ballast still retaining its place
to larboard, we lay so much along that it was useless to think of working the pumps,
which indeed we could not have done much longer in any case, as our hands were
entirely raw with the excessive labour we had undergone, and were bleeding in the most
horrible manner.

Contrary to Parker's advice, we now proceeded to cut away the foremast, and at length
accomplished it after much difficulty, owing to the position in which we lay. In going
overboard the wreck took with it the bowsprit, and left us a complete hulk.

So far we had had reason to rejoice in the escape of our longboat, which had received no
damage from any of the huge seas which had come on board. But we had not long to
congratulate ourselves; for the foremast having gone, and, of course, the foresail with it,
by which the brig had been steadied, every sea now made a complete breach over us, and
in five minutes our deck was swept from stem to stem, the longboat and starboard
bulwarks torn off, and even the windlass shattered into fragments. It was, indeed, hardly
possible for us to be in a more pitiable condition.

At noon there seemed to be some slight appearance of the gale's abating, but in this we
were sadly disappointed, for it only lulled for a few minutes to blow with redoubled fury.
About four in the afternoon it was utterly impossible to stand up against the violence of
the blast; and, as the night closed in upon us, I had not a shadow of hope that the vessel
would hold together until moming.

By midnight we had settled very deep in the water, which was now up to the orlop deck.
The rudder went soon afterward, the sea which tore it away lifting the after portion of the
brig entirely from the water, against which she thumped in her descent with such a
concussion as would be occasioned by going ashore. We had all calculated that the
rudder would hold its own to the last, as it was unusually strong, being rigged as I have
never seen one rigged either before or since. Down its main timber there ran a succession
of stout iron hooks, and others in the same manner down the stem-post. Through these
hooks there extended a very thick wrought- iron rod, the rudder being thus held to the
stern-post and swinging freely on the rod. The tremendous force of the sea which tore it
off may be estimated by the fact, that the hooks in the stem-post, which ran entirely
through it, being clinched on the inside, were drawn every one of them completely out of
the solid wood.

We had scarcely time to draw breath after the violence of this shock, when one of the
most tremendous waves I had then ever known broke right on board of us, sweeping the
companion-way clear off, bursting in the hatchways, and firing every inch of the vessel
with water.

CHAPTER IX

Luckily, just before night, all four of us had lashed ourselves firmly to the fragments of
the windlass, lying in this manner as flat upon the deck as possible. This precaution alone
saved us from destruction. As it was, we were all more or less stunned by the immense
weight of water which tumbled upon us, and which did not roll from above us until we
were nearly exhausted. As soon as I could recover breath, I called aloud to my
companions. Augustus alone replied, saying: "It is all over with us, and may God have
mercy upon our souls!" By-and-by both the others were enabled to speak, when they
exhorted us to take courage, as there was still hope; it being impossible, from the nature
of the cargo, that the brig could go down, and there being every chance that the gale
would blow over by the morning. These words inspired me with new life; for, strange as
it may seem, although it was obvious that a vessel with a cargo of empty oil-casks would
not sink, I had been hitherto so confused in mind as to have overlooked this consideration

altogether; and the danger which I had for some time regarded as the most imminent was
that of foundering. As hope revived within me, I made use of every opportunity to
strengthen the lashings which held me to the remains of the windlass, and in this
occupation I soon discovered that my companions were also busy. The night was as dark
as it could possibly be, and the horrible shrieking din and confusion which surrounded us
it is useless to attempt describing. Our deck lay level with the sea, or rather we were
encircled with a towering ridge of foam, a portion of which swept over us even instant. It
is not too much to say that our heads were not fairly out of the water more than one
second in three. Although we lay close together, no one of us could see the other, or,
indeed, any portion of the brig itself, upon which we were so tempestuously hurled about.
At intervals we called one to the other, thus endeavouring to keep alive hope, and render
consolation and encouragement to such of us as stood most in need of it. The feeble
condition of Augustus made him an object of solicitude with us all; and as, from the
lacerated condition of his right arm, it must have been impossible for him to secure his
lashings with any degree of firmness, we were in momentary expectation of finding that
he had gone overboard-yet to render him aid was a thing altogether out of the question.
Fortunately, his station was more secure than that of any of the rest of us; for the upper
part of his body lying just beneath a portion of the shattered windlass, the seas, as they
tumbled in upon him, were greatly broken in their violence. In any other situation than
this (into which he had been accidentally thrown after having lashed himself in a very
exposed spot) he must inevitably have perished before morning. Owing to the brig's lying
so much along, we were all less liable to be washed off than otherwise would have been
the case. The heel, as I have before stated, was to larboard, about one half of the deck
being constantly under water. The seas, therefore, which struck us to starboard were
much broken, by the vessel's side, only reaching us in fragments as we lay flat on our
faces; while those which came from larboard being what are called back-water seas, and
obtaining little hold upon us on account of our posture, had not sufficient force to drag us
from our fastenings.

In this frightful situation we lay until the day broke so as to show us more fully the
horrors which surrounded us. The brig was a mere log, rolling about at the mercy of
every wave; the gale was upon the increase, if any thing, blowing indeed a complete
hurricane, and there appeared to us no earthly prospect of deliverance. For several hours
we held on in silence, expecting every moment that our lashings would either give way,
that the remains of the windlass would go by the board, or that some of the huge seas,
which roared in every direction around us and above us, would drive the hulk so far
beneath the water that we should be drowned before it could regain the surface. By the
mercy of God, however, we were preserved from these imminent dangers, and about
midday were cheered by the light of the blessed sun. Shortly afterward we could perceive
a sensible diminution in the force of the wind, when, now for the first time since the latter
part of the evening before, Augustus spoke, asking Peters, who lay closest to him, if he
thought there was any possibility of our being saved. As no reply was at first made to this
question, we all concluded that the hybrid had been drowned where he lay; but presently,
to our great joy, he spoke, although very feebly, saying that he was in great pain, being so
cut by the tightness of his lashings across the stomach, that he must either find means of
loosening them or perish, as it was impossible that he could endure his misery much

longer. This occasioned us great distress, as it was altogether useless to think of aiding
him in any manner while the sea continued washing over us as it did. We exhorted him to
bear his sufferings with fortitude, and promised to seize the first opportunity which
should offer itself to relieve him. He replied that it would soon be too late; that it would
be all over with him before we could help him; and then, after moaning for some minutes,
lay silent, when we concluded that he had perished.

As the evening drew on, the sea had f Allan so much that scarcely more than one wave
broke over the hulk from windward in the course of five minutes, and the wind had
abated a great deal, although still blowing a severe gale. I had not heard any of my
companions speak for hours, and now called to Augustus. He replied, although very
feebly, so that I could not distinguish what he said. I then spoke to Peters and to Parker,
neither of whom returned any answer.

Shortly after this period I fell into a state of partial insensibility, during which the most
pleasing images floated in my imagination; such as green trees, waving meadows of ripe
grain, processions of dancing girls, troops of cavalry, and other phantasies. I now
remember that, in all which passed before my mind's eye, motion was a predominant
idea. Thus, I never fancied any stationary object, such as a house, a mountain, or any
thing of that kind; but windmills, ships, large birds, balloons, people on horseback,
carriages driving furiously, and similar moving objects, presented themselves in endless
succession. When I recovered from this state, the sun was, as near as I could guess, an
hour high. I had the greatest difficulty in bringing to recollection the various
circumstances connected with my situation, and for some time remained firmly
convinced that I was still in the hold of the brig, near the box, and that the body of Parker
was that of Tiger.

When I at length completely came to my senses, I found that the wind blew no more than
a moderate breeze, and that the sea was comparatively calm; so much so that it only
washed over the brig amidships. My left arm had broken loose from its lashings, and was
much cut about the elbow; my right was entirely benumbed, and the hand and wrist
swollen prodigiously by the pressure of the rope, which had worked from the shoulder
downward. I was also in great pain from another rope which went about my waist, and
had been drawn to an insufferable degree of tightness. Looking round upon my
companions, I saw that Peters still lived, although a thick line was pulled so forcibly
around his loins as to give him the appearance of being cut nearly in two; as I stiffed, he
made a feeble motion to me with his hand, pointing to the rope. Augustus gave no
indication of life whatever, and was bent nearly double across a splinter of the windlass.
Parker spoke to me when he saw me moving, and asked me if I had not sufficient strength
to release him from his situation, saying that if I would summon up what spirits I could,
and contrive to untie him, we might yet save our lives; but that otherwise we must all
perish. I told him to take courage, and I would endeavor to free him. Feeling in my
pantaloons' pocket, I got hold of my penknife, and, after several ineffectual attempts, at
length succeeded in opening it. I then, with my left hand, managed to free my right from
its fastenings, and afterward cut the other ropes which held me. Upon attempting,
however, to move from my position, I found that my legs failed me altogether, and that I

could not get up; neither could I move my right arm in any direction. Upon mentioning
this to Parker, he advised me to lie quiet for a few minutes, holding on to the windlass
with my left hand, so as to allow time for the blood to circulate. Doing this, the numbness
presently began to die away so that I could move first one of my legs, and then the other,
and, shortly afterward I regained the partial use of my right arm. I now crawled with great
caution toward Parker, without getting on my legs, and soon cut loose all the lashings
about him, when, after a short delay, he also recovered the partial use of his limbs. We
now lost no time in getting loose the rope from Peters. It had cut a deep gash through the
waistband of his woollen pantaloons, and through two shirts, and made its way into his
groin, from which the blood flowed out copiously as we removed the cordage. No sooner
had we removed it, however, than he spoke, and seemed to experience instant relief-
being able to move with much greater ease than either Parker or myself-this was no
doubt owing to the discharge of blood.

We had little hopes that Augustus would recover, as he evinced no signs of life; but, upon
getting to him, we discovered that he had merely swooned from the loss of blood, the
bandages we had placed around his wounded arm having been torn off by the water; none
of the ropes which held him to the windlass were drawn sufficiently tight to occasion his
death. Having relieved him from the fastenings, and got him clear of the broken wood
about the windlass, we secured him in a dry place to windward, with his head somewhat
lower than his body, and all three of us busied ourselves in chafing his limbs. In about
half an hour he came to himself, although it was not until the next morning that he gave
signs of recognizing any of us, or had sufficient strength to speak. By the time we had
thus got clear of our lashings it was quite dark, and it began to cloud up, so that we were
again in the greatest agony lest it should come on to blow hard, in which event nothing
could have saved us from perishing, exhausted as we were. By good fortune it continued
very moderate during the night, the sea subsiding every minute, which gave us great
hopes of ultimate preservation. A gentle breeze still blew from the N. W., but the weather
was not at all cold. Augustus was lashed carefully to windward in such a manner as to
prevent him from slipping overboard with the rolls of the vessel, as he was still too weak
to hold on at all. For ourselves there was no such necessity. We sat close together,
supporting each other with the aid of the broken ropes about the windlass, and devising
methods of escape from our frightful situation. We derived much comfort from taking off
our clothes and wringing the water from them. When we put them on after this, they felt
remarkably warm and pleasant, and served to invigorate us in no little degree. We helped
Augustus off with his, and wrung them for him, when he experienced the same comfort.

Our chief sufferings were now those of hunger and thirst, and when we looked forward to
the means of relief in this respect, our hearts sunk within us, and we were induced to
regret that we had escaped the less dreadful perils of the sea. We endeavoured, however,
to console ourselves with the hope of being speedily picked up by some vessel and
encouraged each other to bear with fortitude the evils that might happen.

The morning of the fourteenth at length dawned, and the weather still continued clear and
pleasant, with a steady but very light breeze from the N. W. The sea was now quite
smooth, and as, from some cause which we could not determine, the brig did not he so

much along as she had done before, the deck was comparatively dry, and we could move
about with freedom. We had now been better than three entire days and nights without
either food or drink, and it became absolutely necessary that we should make an attempt
to get up something from below. As the brig was completely full of water, we went to
this work despondently, and with but little expectation of being able to obtain anything.
We made a kind of drag by driving some nails which we broke out from the remains of
the companion-hatch into two pieces of wood. Tying these across each other, and
fastening them to the end of a rope, we threw them into the cabin, and dragged them to
and fro, in the faint hope of being thus able to entangle some article which might be of
use to us for food, or which might at least render us assistance in getting it. We spent the
greater part of the morning in this labour without effect, fishing up nothing more than a
few bedclothes, which were readily caught by the nails. Indeed, our contrivance was so
very clumsy that any greater success was hardly to be anticipated.

We now tried the forecastle, but equally in vain, and were upon the brink of despair,
when Peters proposed that we should fasten a rope to his body, and let him make an
attempt to get up something by diving into the cabin. This proposition we hailed with all
the delight which reviving hope could inspire. He proceeded immediately to strip off his
clothes with the exception of his pantaloons; and a strong rope was then carefully
fastened around his middle, being brought up over his shoulders in such a manner that
there was no possibility of its slipping. The undertaking was one of great difficulty and
danger; for, as we could hardly expect to find much, if any, provision in the cabin itself, it
was necessary that the diver, after letting himself down, should make a turn to the right,
and proceed under water a distance of ten or twelve feet, in a narrow passage, to the
storeroom, and return, without drawing breath.

Everything being ready, Peters now descended in the cabin, going down the companion-
ladder until the water reached his chin. He then plunged in, head first, turning to the right
as he plunged, and endeavouring to make his way to the storeroom. In this first attempt,
however, he was altogether unsuccessful. In less than half a minute after his going down
we felt the rope jerked violently (the signal we had agreed upon when he desired to be
drawn up). We accordingly drew him up instantly, but so incautiously as to bruise him
badly against the ladder. He had brought nothing with him, and had been unable to
penetrate more than a very little way into the passage, owing to the constant exertions he
found it necessary to make in order to keep himself from floating up against the deck.
Upon getting out he was very much exhausted, and had to rest full fifteen minutes before
he could again venture to descend.

The second attempt met with even worse success; for he remained so long under water
without giving the signal, that, becoming alarmed for his safety, we drew him out without
it, and found that he was almost at the last gasp, having, as he said, repeatedly jerked at
the rope without our feeling it. This was probably owing to a portion of it having become
entangled in the balustrade at the foot of the ladder. This balustrade was, indeed, so much
in the way, that we determined to remove it, if possible, before proceeding with our
design. As we had no means of getting it away except by main force, we all descended

into the water as far as we could on the ladder, and giving a pull against it with our united
strength, succeeded in breaking it down.

The third attempt was equally unsuccessful with the two first, and it now became evident
that nothing could be done in this manner without the aid of some weight with which the
diver might steady himself, and keep to the floor of the cabin while making his search.
For a long time we looked about in vain for something which might answer this purpose;
but at length, to our great joy, we discovered one of the weather- forechains so loose that
we had not the least difficulty in wrenching it off. Having fastened this securely to one of
his ankles, Peters now made his fourth descent into the cabin, and this time succeeded in
making his way to the door of the steward's room. To his inexpressible grief, however, he
found it locked, and was obliged to return without effecting an entrance, as, with the
greatest exertion, he could remain under water not more, at the utmost extent, than a
single minute. Our affairs now looked gloomy indeed, and neither Augustus nor myself
could refrain from bursting into tears, as we thought of the host of difficulties which
encompassed us, and the slight probability which existed of our finally making an escape.
But this weakness was not of long duration. Throwing ourselves on our knees to God, we
implored His aid in the many dangers which beset us; and arose with renewed hope and
vigor to think what could yet be done by mortal means toward accomplishing our
deliverance.

CHAPTER X

Shortly afterward an incident occurred which I am induced to look upon as more
intensely productive of emotion, as far more replete with the extremes first of delight and
then of horror, than even any of the thousand chances which afterward befell me in nine
long years, crowded with events of the most startling and, in many cases, of the most
unconceived and unconceivable character. We were lying on the deck near the
companion-way, and debating the possibility of yet making our way into the storeroom,
when, looking toward Augustus, who lay fronting myself, I perceived that he had become
all at once deadly pale, and that his lips were quivering in the most singular and
unaccountable manner. Greatly alarmed, I spoke to him, but he made me no reply, and I
was beginning to think that he was suddenly taken ill, when I took notice of his eyes,
which were glaring apparently at some object behind me. I turned my head, and shall
never forget the ecstatic joy which thrilled through every particle of my frame, when I
perceived a large brig bearing down upon us, and not more than a couple of miles off. I
sprung to my feet as if a musket bullet had suddenly struck me to the heart; and,
stretching out my arms in the direction of the vessel, stood in this manner, motionless,
and unable to articulate a syllable. Peters and Parker were equally affected, although in
different ways. The former danced about the deck like a madman, uttering the most
extravagant rhodomontades, intermingled with howls and imprecations, while the latter
burst into tears, and continued for many minutes weeping like a child.

The vessel in sight was a large hermaphrodite brig, of a Dutch build, and painted black,
with a tawdry gilt figure-head. She had evidently seen a good deal of rough weather, and,
we supposed, had suffered much in the gale which had proved so disastrous to ourselves;

for her foretopmast was gone, and some of her starboard bulwarks. When we first saw
her, she was, as I have already said, about two miles off and to windward, bearing down
upon us. The breeze was very gentle, and what astonished us chiefly was, that she had no
other sails set than her foremast and mainsail, with a flying jib-of course she came down
but slowly, and our impatience amounted nearly to phrensy. The awkward manner in
which she steered, too, was remarked by all of us, even excited as we were. She yawed
about so considerably, that once or twice we thought it impossible she could see us, or
imagined that, having seen us, and discovered no person on board, she was about to tack
and make off in another direction. Upon each of these occasions we screamed and
shouted at the top of our voices, when the stranger would appear to change for a moment
her intention, and again hold on toward us-this singular conduct being repeated two or
three times, so that at last we could think of no other manner of accounting for it than by
supposing the helmsman to be in liquor.

No person was seen upon her decks until she arrived within about a quarter of a mile of
us. We then saw three seamen, whom by their dress we took to be Hollanders. Two of
these were lying on some old sails near the forecastle, and the third, who appeared to be
looking at us with great curiosity, was leaning over the starboard bow near the bowsprit.
This last was a stout and tall man, with a very dark skin. He seemed by his manner to be
encouraging us to have patience, nodding to us in a cheerful although rather odd way, and
smiling constantly, so as to display a set of the most brilliantly white teeth. As his vessel
drew nearer, we saw a red flannel cap which he had on fall from his head into the water;
but of this he took little or no notice, continuing his odd smiles and gesticulations. I relate
these things and circumstances minutely, and I relate them, it must be understood,
precisely as they appeared to us.

The brig came on slowly, and now more steadily than before, and-I cannot speak calmly
of this event-our hearts leaped up wildly within us, and we poured out our whole souls in
shouts and thanksgiving to God for the complete, unexpected, and glorious deliverance
that was so palpably at hand. Of a sudden, and all at once, there came wafted over the
ocean from the strange vessel (which was now close upon us) a smell, a stench, such as
the whole world has no name for-no conception of-hellish-utterly suffocating-
insufferable, inconceivable. I gasped for breath, and turning to my companions, perceived
that they were paler than marble. But we had now no time left for question or surmise-
the brig was within fifty feet of us, and it seemed to be her intention to run under our
counter, that we might board her without putting out a boat. We rushed aft, when,
suddenly, a wide yaw threw her off full five or six points from the course she had been
running, and, as she passed under our stem at the distance of about twenty feet, we had a
full view of her decks. Shall I ever forget the triple horror of that spectacle? Twenty-five
or thirty human bodies, among whom were several females, lay scattered about between
the counter and the galley in the last and most loathsome state of putrefaction. We plainly
saw that not a soul lived in that fated vessel! Yet we could not help shouting to the dead
for help! Yes, long and loudly did we beg, in the agony of the moment, that those silent
and disgusting images would stay for us, would not abandon us to become like them,
would receive us among their goodly company! We were raving with horror and despair-
thoroughly mad through the anguish of our grievous disappointment.

As our first loud yell of terror broke forth, it was replied to by something, from near the
bowsprit of the stranger, so closely resembling the scream of a human voice that the
nicest ear might have been startled and deceived. At this instant another sudden yaw
brought the region of the forecastle for a moment into view, and we beheld at once the
origin of the sound. We saw the tall stout figure still leaning on the bulwark, and still
nodding his head to and fro, but his face was now turned from us so that we could not
behold it. His arms were extended over the rail, and the palms of his hands fell outward.
His knees were lodged upon a stout rope, tightly stretched, and reaching from the heel of
the bowsprit to a cathead. On his back, from which a portion of the shirt had been torn,
leaving it bare, there sat a huge sea-gull, busily gorging itself with the horrible flesh, its
bill and talons deep buried, and its white plumage spattered all over with blood. As the
brig moved farther round so as to bring us close in view, the bird, with much apparent
difficulty, drew out its crimsoned head, and, after eyeing us for a moment as if stupefied,
arose lazily from the body upon which it had been feasting, and, flying directly above our
deck, hovered there a while with a portion of clotted and liver-like substance in its beak.
The horrid morsel dropped at length with a sullen splash immediately at the feet of
Parker. May God forgive me, but now, for the first time, there flashed through my mind a
thought, a thought which I will not mention, and I felt myself making a step toward the
ensanguined spot. I looked upward, and the eyes of Augustus met my own with a degree
of intense and eager meaning which immediately brought me to my senses. I sprang
forward quickly, and, with a deep shudder, threw the frightful thing into the sea.

The body from which it had been taken, resting as it did upon the rope, had been easily
swayed to and fro by the exertions of the carnivorous bird, and it was this motion which
had at first impressed us with the belief of its being alive. As the gull relieved it of its
weight, it swung round and fell partially over, so that the face was fully discovered.
Never, surely, was any object so terribly full of awe! The eyes were gone, and the whole
flesh around the mouth, leaving the teeth utterly naked. This, then, was the smile which
had cheered us on to hope! this the-but I forbear. The brig, as I have already told, passed
under our stem, and made its way slowly but steadily to leeward. With her and with her
terrible crew went all our gay visions of deliverance and joy. Deliberately as she went by,
we might possibly have found means of boarding her, had not our sudden disappointment
and the appalling nature of the discovery which accompanied it laid entirely prostrate
every active faculty of mind and body. We had seen and felt, but we could neither think
nor act, until, alas! too late. How much our intellects had been weakened by this incident
may be estimated by the fact, that when the vessel had proceeded so far that we could
perceive no more than the half of her hull, the proposition was seriously entertained of
attempting to overtake her by swimming!

I have, since this period, vainly endeavoured to obtain some clew to the hideous
uncertainty which enveloped the fate of the stranger. Her build and general appearance,
as I have before stated, led us to the belief that she was a Dutch trader, and the dresses of
the crew also sustained this opinion. We might have easily seen the name upon her stern,
and, indeed, taken other observations, which would have guided us in making out her
character; but the intense excitement of the moment blinded us to every thing of that
nature. From the saffron-like hue of such of the corpses as were not entirely decayed, we

concluded that the whole of her company had perished by the yellow fever, or some other
virulent disease of the same fearful kind. If such were the case (and I know not what else
to imagine), death, to judge from the positions of the bodies, must have come upon them
in a manner awfully sudden and overwhelming, in a way totally distinct from that which
generally characterizes even the most deadly pestilences with which mankind are
acquainted. It is possible, indeed, that poison, accidentally introduced into some of their
sea-stores, may have brought about the disaster, or that the eating of some unknown
venomous species of fish, or other marine animal, or oceanic bird, might have induced
it,-but it is utterly useless to form conjectures where all is involved, and will, no doubt,
remain for ever involved, in the most appalling and unfathomable mystery.

CHAPTER XI

We spent the remainder of the day in a condition of stupid lethargy, gazing after the
retreating vessel until the darkness, hiding her from our sight, recalled us in some
measure to our senses. The pangs of hunger and thirst then returned, absorbing all other
cares and considerations. Nothing, however, could be done until the morning, and,
securing ourselves as well as possible, we endeavoured to snatch a little repose. In this I
succeeded beyond my expectations, sleeping until my companions, who had not been so
fortunate, aroused me at daybreak to renew our attempts at getting up provisions from the
hull.

It was now a dead calm, with the sea as smooth as I have ever known it,-the weather
warm and pleasant. The brig was out of sight. We commenced our operations by
wrenching off, with some trouble, another of the forechains; and having fastened both to
Peters' feet, he again made an endeavour to reach the door of the storeroom, thinking it
possible that he might be able to force it open, provided he could get at it in sufficient
time; and this he hoped to do, as the hulk lay much more steadily than before.

He succeeded very quickly in reaching the door, when, loosening one of the chains from
his ankle, be made every exertion to force the passage with it, but in vain, the framework
of the room being far stronger than was anticipated. He was quite exhausted with his long
stay under water, and it became absolutely necessary that some other one of us should
take his place. For this service Parker immediately volunteered; but, after making three
ineffectual efforts, found that he could never even succeed in getting near the door. The
condition of Augustus's wounded arm rendered it useless for him to attempt going down,
as he would be unable to force the room open should be reach it, and it accordingly now
devolved upon me to exert myself for our common deliverance.

Peters had left one of the chains in the passage, and I found, upon plunging in, that I had
not sufficient balance to keep me firmly down. I determined, therefore, to attempt no
more, in my first effort, than merely to recover the other chain. In groping along the floor
of the passage for this, I felt a hard substance, which I immediately grasped, not having
time to ascertain what it was, but returning and ascending instantly to the surface. The
prize proved to be a bottle, and our joy may be conceived when I say that it was found to
be full of port wine. Giving thanks to God for this timely and cheering assistance, we

immediately drew the cork with my penknife, and, each taking a moderate sup, felt the
most indescribable comfort from the warmth, strength, and spirits with which it inspired
us. We then carefully recorked the bottle, and, by means of a handkerchief, swung it in
such a manner that there was no possibility of its getting broken.

Having rested a while after this fortunate discovery, I again descended, and now
recovered the chain, with which I instantly came up. I then fastened it on and went down
for the third time, when I became fully satisfied that no exertions whatever, in that
situation, would enable me to force open the door of the storeroom. I therefore returned
in despair.

There seemed now to be no longer any room for hope, and I could perceive in the
countenances of my companions that they had made up their minds to perish. The wine
had evidently produced in them a species of delirium, which, perhaps, I had been
prevented from feeling by the immersion I had undergone since drinking it. They talked
incoherently, and about matters unconnected with our condition, Peters repeatedly asking
me questions about Nantucket. Augustus, too, I remember, approached me with a serious
air, and requested me to lend him a pocket-comb, as his hair was full of fish-scales, and
he wished to get them out before going on shore. Parker appeared somewhat less
affected, and urged me to dive at random into the cabin, and bring up any article which
might come to hand. To this I consented, and, in the first attempt, after staying under a
full minute, brought up a small leather trunk belonging to Captain Barnard. This was
immediately opened in the faint hope that it might contain something to eat or drink. We
found nothing, however, except a box of razors and two linen shirts. I now went down
again, and returned without any success. As my head came above water I heard a crash
on deck, and, upon getting up, saw that my companions had ungratefully taken advantage
of my absence to drink the remainder of the wine, having let the bottle fall in the
endeavour to replace it before I saw them. I remonstrated with them on the heartlessness
of their conduct, when Augustus burst into tears. The other two endeavoured to laugh the
matter off as a joke, but I hope never again to behold laughter of such a species: the
distortion of countenance was absolutely frightful. Indeed, it was apparent that the
stimulus, in the empty state of their stomachs, had taken instant and violent effect, and
that they were all exceedingly intoxicated. With great difficulty I prevailed upon them to
lie down, when they fell very soon into a heavy slumber, accompanied with loud
stertorous breathing. I now found myself, as it were, alone in the brig, and my reflections,
to be sure, were of the most fearful and gloomy nature. No prospect offered itself to my
view but a lingering death by famine, or, at the best, by being overwhelmed in the first
gale which should spring up, for in our present exhausted condition we could have no
hope of living through another.

The gnawing hunger which I now experienced was nearly insupportable, and I felt myself
capable of going to any lengths in order to appease it. With my knife I cut off a small
portion of the leather trunk, and endeavoured to eat it, but found it utterly impossible to
swallow a single morsel, although I fancied that some little alleviation of my suffering
was obtained by chewing small pieces of it and spitting them out. Toward night my
companions awoke, one by one, each in an indescribable state of weakness and horror.

brought on by the wine, whose fumes had now evaporated. They shook as if with a
violent ague, and uttered the most lamentable cries for water. Their condition affected me
in the most lively degree, at the same time causing me to rejoice in the fortunate train of
circumstances which had prevented me from indulging in the wine, and consequently
from sharing their melancholy and most distressing sensations. Their conduct, however,
gave me great uneasiness and alarm; for it was evident that, unless some favourable
change took place, they could afford me no assistance in providing for our common
safety. I had not yet abandoned all idea being able to get up something from below; but
the attempt could not possibly be resumed until some one of them was sufficiently master
of himself to aid me by holding the end of the rope while I went down. Parker appeared
to be somewhat more in possession of his senses than the others, and I endeavoured, by
every means in my power, to rouse him. Thinking that a plunge in the sea-water might
have a beneficial effect, I contrived to fasten the end of a rope around his body, and then,
leading him to the companion-way (he remaining quite passive all the while), pushed him
in, and immediately drew him out. I had good reason to congratulate myself upon having
made this experiment; for he appeared much revived and invigorated, and, upon getting
out, asked me, in a rational manner, why I had so served him. Having explained my
object, he expressed himself indebted to me, and said that he felt greatly better from the
immersion, afterward conversing sensibly upon our situation. We then resolved to treat
Augustus and Peters in the same way, which we immediately did, when they both
experienced much benefit from the shock. This idea of sudden immersion had been
suggested to me by reading in some medical work the good effect of the shower-bath in a
case where the patient was suffering from mania a potu.

Finding that I could now trust my companions to hold the end of the rope, I again made
three or four plunges into the cabin, although it was now quite dark, and a gentle but long
swell from the northward rendered the hulk somewhat unsteady. In the course of these
attempts I succeeded in bringing up two case-knives, a three-gallon jug, empty, and a
blanket, but nothing which could serve us for food. I continued my efforts, after getting
these articles, until I was completely exhausted, but brought up nothing else. During the
night Parker and Peters occupied themselves by turns in the same manner; but nothing
coming to hand, we now gave up this attempt in despair, concluding that we were
exhausting ourselves in vain.

We passed the remainder of this night in a state of the most intense mental and bodily
anguish that can possibly be imagined. The morning of the sixteenth at length dawned,
and we looked eagerly around the horizon for relief, but to no purpose. The sea was still
smooth, with only a long swell from the northward, as on yesterday. This was the sixth
day since we had tasted either food or drink, with the exception of the bottle of port wine,
and it was clear that we could hold out but a very little while longer unless something
could be obtained. I never saw before, nor wish to see again, human beings so utterly
emaciated as Peters and Augustus. Had I met them on shore in their present condition I
should not have had the slightest suspicion that I had ever beheld them. Their
countenances were totally changed in character, so that I could not bring myself to
believe them really the same individuals with whom I had been in company but a few
days before. Parker, although sadly reduced, and so feeble that he could not raise his head

from his bosom, was not so far gone as the other two. He suffered with great patience,
making no complaint, and endeavouring to inspire us with hope in every manner he could
devise. For myself, although at the commencement of the voyage I had been in bad
health, and was at all times of a delicate constitution, I suffered less than any of us, being
much less reduced in frame, and retaining my powers of mind in a surprising degree,
while the rest were completely prostrated in intellect, and seemed to be brought to a
species of second childhood, generally simpering in their expressions, with idiotic smiles,
and uttering the most absurd platitudes. At intervals, however, they would appear to
revive suddenly, as if inspired all at once with a consciousness of their condition, when
they would spring upon their feet in a momentary flash of vigour, and speak, for a short
period, of their prospects, in a manner altogether rational, although full of the most
intense despair. It is possible, however, that my companions may have entertained the
same opinion of their own condition as I did of mine, and that I may have unwittingly
been guilty of the same extravagances and imbecilities as themselves-this is a matter
which cannot be determined.

About noon Parker declared that he saw land off the larboard quarter, and it was with the
utmost difficulty I could restrain him from plunging into the sea with the view of
swimming toward it. Peters and Augustus took little notice of what he said, being
apparently wrapped up in moody contemplation. Upon looking in the direction pointed
out, I could not perceive the faintest appearance of the shore-indeed, I was too well
aware that we were far from any land to indulge in a hope of that nature. It was a long
time, nevertheless, before I could convince Parker of his mistake. He then burst into a
flood of tears, weeping like a child, with loud cries and sobs, for two or three hours, when
becoming exhausted, he fell asleep.

Peters and Augustus now made several ineffectual efforts to swallow portions of the
leather. I advised them to chew it and spit it out; but they were too excessively debilitated
to be able to follow my advice. I continued to chew pieces of it at intervals, and found
some relief from so doing; my chief distress was for water, and I was only prevented
from taking a draught from the sea by remembering the horrible consequences which thus
have resulted to others who were similarly situated with ourselves.

The day wore on in this manner, when I suddenly discovered a sail to the eastward, and
on our larboard bow. She appeared to be a large ship, and was coming nearly athwart us,
being probably twelve or fifteen miles distant. None of my companions had as yet
discovered her, and I forbore to tell them of her for the present, lest we might again be
disappointed of relief. At length upon her getting nearer, I saw distinctly that she was
heading immediately for us, with her light sails filled. I could now contain myself no
longer, and pointed her out to my fellow- sufferers. They immediately sprang to their feet,
again indulging in the most extravagant demonstrations of joy, weeping, laughing in an
idiotic manner, jumping, stamping upon the deck, tearing their hair, and praying and
cursing by turns. I was so affected by their conduct, as well as by what I considered a
sure prospect of deliverance, that I could not refrain from joining in with their madness,
and gave way to the impulses of my gratitude and ecstasy by lying and rolling on the
deck, clapping my hands, shouting, and other similar acts, until I was suddenly called to

my recollection, and once more to the extreme human misery and despair, by perceiving
the ship all at once with her stern fully presented toward us, and steering in a direction
nearly opposite to that in which I had at first perceived her.

It was some time before I could induce my poor companions to believe that this sad
reverse in our prospects had actually taken place. They replied to all my assertions with a
stare and a gesture implying that they were not to be deceived by such
misrepresentations. The conduct of Augustus most sensibly affected me. In spite of all I
could say or do to the contrary, he persisted in saying that the ship was rapidly nearing
us, and in making preparations to go on board of her. Some seaweed floating by the brig,
he maintained that it was the ship's boat, and endeavoured to throw himself upon it,
howling and shrieking in the most heartrending manner, when I forcibly restrained him
from thus casting himself into the sea.

Having become in some degree pacified, we continued to watch the ship until we finally
lost sight of her, the weather becoming hazy, with a light breeze springing up. As soon as
she was entirely gone, Parker turned suddenly toward me with an expression of
countenance which made me shudder. There was about him an air of self-possession
which I had not noticed in him until now, and before he opened his lips my heart told me
what he would say. He proposed, in a few words, that one of us should die to preserve the
existence of the others.

CHAPTER XII

I had for some time past, dwelt upon the prospect of our being reduced to this last
horrible extremity, and had secretly made up my mind to suffer death in any shape or
under any circumstances rather than resort to such a course. Nor was this resolution in
any degree weakened by the present intensity of hunger under which I laboured. The
proposition had not been heard by either Peters or Augustus. I therefore took Parker
aside; and mentally praying to God for power to dissuade him from the horrible purpose
he entertained, I expostulated with him for a long time, and in the most supplicating
manner, begging him in the name of every thing which he held sacred, and urging him by
every species of argument which the extremity of the case suggested, to abandon the idea,
and not to mention it to either of the other two.

He heard all I said without attempting to controvert any of my arguments, and I had
begun to hope that he would be prevailed upon to do as I desired. But when I had ceased
speaking, he said that he knew very well all I had said was true, and that to resort to such
a course was the most horrible alternative which could enter into the mind of man; but
that he had now held out as long as human nature could be sustained; that it was
unnecessary for all to perish, when, by the death of one, it was possible, and even
probable, that the rest might be finally preserved; adding that I might save myself the
trouble of trying to turn him from his purpose, his mind having been thoroughly made up
on the subject even before the appearance of the ship, and that only her heaving in sight
had prevented him from mentioning his intention at an earlier period.

I now begged him, if he would not be prevailed upon to abandon his design, at least to
defer it for another day, when some vessel might come to our relief; again reiterating
every argument I could devise, and which I thought likely to have influence with one of
his rough nature. He said, in reply, that he had not spoken until the very last possible
moment, that he could exist no longer without sustenance of some kind, and that
therefore in another day his suggestion would be too late, as regarded himself at least.

Finding that he was not to be moved by anything I could say in a mild tone, I now
assumed a different demeanor, and told him that he must be aware I had suffered less
than any of us from our calamities; that my health and strength, consequently, were at
that moment far better than his own, or than that either of Peters or Augustus; in short,
that I was in a condition to have my own way by force if I found it necessary; and that if
he attempted in any manner to acquaint the others with his bloody and cannibal designs, I
would not hesitate to throw him into the sea. Upon this he immediately seized me by the
throat, and drawing a knife, made several ineffectual efforts to stab me in the stomach; an
atrocity which his excessive debility alone prevented him from accomplishing. In the
meantime, being roused to a high pitch of anger, I forced him to the vessel's side, with the
full intention of throwing him overboard. He was saved from his fate, however, by the
interference of Peters, who now approached and separated us, asking the cause of the
disturbance. This Parker told before I could find means in any manner to prevent him.

The effect of his words was even more terrible than what I had anticipated. Both
Augustus and Peters, who, it seems, had long secretly entertained the same fearful idea
which Parker had been merely the first to broach, joined with him in his design and
insisted upon its immediately being carried into effect. I had calculated that one at least of
the two former would be found still possessed of sufficient strength of mind to side with
myself in resisting any attempt to execute so dreadful a purpose, and, with the aid of
either one of them, I had no fear of being able to prevent its accomplishment. Being
disappointed in this expectation, it became absolutely necessary that I should attend to
my own safety, as a further resistance on my part might possibly be considered by men in
their frightful condition a sufficient excuse for refusing me fair play in the tragedy that I
knew would speedily be enacted.

I now told them I was willing to submit to the proposal, merely requesting a delay of
about one hour, in order that the fog which had gathered around us might have an
opportunity of lifting, when it was possible that the ship we had seen might be again in
sight. After great difficulty I obtained from them a promise to wait thus long; and, as I
had anticipated (a breeze rapidly coming in), the fog lifted before the hour had expired,
when, no vessel appearing in sight, we prepared to draw lots.

It is with extreme reluctance that I dwell upon the appalling scene which ensued; a scene
which, with its minutest details, no after events have been able to efface in the slightest
degree from my memory, and whose stern recollection will embitter every future moment
of my existence. Let me run over this portion of my narrative with as much haste as the
nature of the events to be spoken of will permit. The only method we could devise for the
terrific lottery, in which we were to take each a chance, was that of drawing straws. Small

splinters of wood were made to answer our purpose, and it was agreed that I should be
the holder. I retired to one end of the hulk, while my poor companions silently took up
their station in the other with their backs turned toward me. The bitterest anxiety which I
endured at any period of this fearful drama was while I occupied myself in the
arrangement of the lots. There are few conditions into which man can possibly fall where
he will not feel a deep interest in the preservation of his existence; an interest
momentarily increasing with the frailness of the tenure by which that existence may be
held. But now that the silent, definite, and stem nature of the business in which I was
engaged (so different from the tumultuous dangers of the storm or the gradually
approaching horrors of famine) allowed me to reflect on the few chances I had of
escaping the most appalling of deaths-a death for the most appalling of purposes-every
particle of that energy which had so long buoyed me up departed like feathers before the
wind, leaving me a helpless prey to the most abject and pitiable terror. I could not, at
first, even summon up sufficient strength to tear and fit together the small splinters of
wood, my fingers absolutely refusing their office, and my knees knocking violently
against each other. My mind ran over rapidly a thousand absurd projects by which to
avoid becoming a partner in the awful speculation. I thought of falling on my knees to my
companions, and entreating them to let me escape this necessity; of suddenly rushing
upon them, and, by putting one of them to death, of rendering the decision by lot useless-
in short, of every thing but of going through with the matter I had in hand. At last, after
wasting a long time in this imbecile conduct, I was recalled to my senses by the voice of
Parker, who urged me to relieve them at once from the terrible anxiety they were
enduring. Even then I could not bring myself to arrange the splinters upon the spot, but
thought over every species of finesse by which I could trick some one of my fellow-
sufferers to draw the short straw, as it had been agreed that whoever drew the shortest of
four splinters from my hand was to die for the preservation of the rest. Before any one
condemn me for this apparent heartlessness, let him be placed in a situation precisely
similar to my own.

At length delay was no longer possible, and, with a heart almost bursting from my
bosom, I advanced to the region of the forecastle, where my companions were awaiting
me. I held out my hand with the splinters, and Peters immediately drew. He was free-his,
at least, was not the shortest; and there was now another chance against my escape. I
summoned up all my strength, and passed the lots to Augustus. He also drew
immediately, and he also was free; and now, whether I should live or die, the chances
were no more than precisely even. At this moment all the fierceness of the tiger possessed
my bosom, and I felt toward my poor fellow-creature, Parker, the most intense, the most
diabolical hatred. But the feeling did not last; and, at length, with a convulsive shudder
and closed eyes, I held out the two remaining splinters toward him. It was fully five
minutes before he could summon resolution to draw, during which period of heartrending
suspense I never once opened my eyes. Presently one of the two lots was quickly drawn
from my hand. The decision was then over, yet I knew not whether it was for me or
against me. No one spoke, and still I dared not satisfy myself by looking at the splinter I
held. Peters at length took me by the hand, and I forced myself to look up, when I
immediately saw by the countenance of Parker that I was safe, and that he it was who had
been doomed to suffer. Gasping for breath, I fell senseless to the deck.

I recovered from my swoon in time to behold the consummation of the tragedy in the
death of him who had been chiefly instrumental in bringing it about. He made no
resistance whatever, and was stabbed in the back by Peters, when he fell instantly dead. I
must not dwell upon the fearful repast which immediately ensued. Such things may be
imagined, but words have no power to impress the mind with the exquisite horror of their
reality. Let it suffice to say that, having in some measure appeased the raging thirst which
consumed us by the blood of the victim, and having by common consent taken off the
hands, feet, and head, throwing them together with the entrails, into the sea, we devoured
the rest of the body, piecemeal, during the four ever memorable days of the seventeenth,
eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth of the month.

On the nineteenth, there coming on a smart shower which lasted fifteen or twenty
minutes, we contrived to catch some water by means of a sheet which had been fished up
from the cabin by our drag just after the gale. The quantity we took in all did not amount
to more than half a gallon; but even this scanty allowance supplied us with comparative
strength and hope.

On the twenty-first we were again reduced to the last necessity. The weather still
remained warm and pleasant, with occasional fogs and light breezes, most usually from
N. to W.

On the twenty- second, as we were sitting close huddled together, gloomily revolving over
our lamentable condition, there flashed through my mind all at once an idea which
inspired me with a bright gleam of hope. I remembered that, when the foremast had been
cut away, Peters, being in the windward chains, passed one of the axes into my hand,
requesting me to put it, if possible, in a place of security, and that a few minutes before
the last heavy sea struck the brig and filled her I had taken this axe into the forecastle and
laid it in one of the larboard berths. I now thought it possible that, by getting at this axe,
we might cut through the deck over the storeroom, and thus readily supply ourselves with
provisions.

When I communicated this object to my companions, they uttered a feeble shout of joy,
and we all proceeded forthwith to the forecastle. The difficulty of descending here was
greater than that of going down in the cabin, the opening being much smaller, for it will
be remembered that the whole framework about the cabin companion-hatch had been
carried away, whereas the forecastle- way, being a simple hatch of only about three feet
square, had remained uninjured. I did not hesitate, however, to attempt the descent; and a
rope being fastened round my body as before, I plunged boldly in, feet foremost, made
my way quickly to the berth, and at the first attempt brought up the axe. It was hailed
with the most ecstatic joy and triumph, and the ease with which it had been obtained was
regarded as an omen of our ultimate preservation.

We now commenced cutting at the deck with all the energy of rekindled hope, Peters and
myself taking the axe by turns, Augustus's wounded arm not permitting him to aid us in
any degree. As we were still so feeble as to be scarcely able to stand unsupported, and
could consequently work but a minute or two without resting, it soon became evident that

many long hours would be necessary to accomplish our task-that is, to cut an opening
sufficiently large to admit of a free access to the storeroom. This consideration, however,
did not discourage us; and, working all night by the light of the moon, we succeeded in
effecting our purpose by daybreak on the morning of the twenty-third.

Peters now volunteered to go down; and, having made all arrangements as before, he
descended, and soon returned bringing up with him a small jar, which, to our great joy,
proved to be full of olives. Having shared these among us, and devoured them with the
greatest avidity, we proceeded to let him down again. This time he succeeded beyond our
utmost expectations, returning instantly with a large ham and a bottle of Madeira wine.
Of the latter we each took a moderate sup, having learned by experience the pernicious
consequences of indulging too freely. The ham, except about two pounds near the bone,
was not in a condition to be eaten, having been entirely spoiled by the salt water. The
sound part was divided among us. Peters and Augustus, not being able to restrain their
appetite, swallowed theirs upon the instant; but I was more cautious, and ate but a small
portion of mine, dreading the thirst which I knew would ensue. We now rested a while
from our labors, which had been intolerably severe.

By noon, feeling somewhat strengthened and refreshed, we again renewed our attempt at
getting up provisions, Peters and myself going down alternately, and always with more or
less success, until sundown. During this interval we had the good fortune to bring up,
altogether, four more small jars of olives, another ham, a carboy containing nearly three
gallons of excellent Cape Madeira wine, and, what gave us still more delight, a small
tortoise of the Gallipago breed, several of which had been taken on board by Captain
Barnard, as the Grampus was leaving port, from the schooner Mary Pitts, just returned
from a sealing voyage in the Pacific.

In a subsequent portion of this narrative I shall have frequent occasion to mention this
species of tortoise. It is found principally, as most of my readers may know, in the group
of islands called the Gallipagos, which, indeed, derive their name from the animal-the
Spanish word Gallipago meaning a fresh- water terrapin. From the peculiarity of their
shape and action they have been sometimes called the elephant tortoise. They are
frequently found of an enormous size. I have myself seen several which would weigh
from twelve to fifteen hundred pounds, although I do not remember that any navigator
speaks of having seen them weighing more than eight hundred. Their appearance is
singular, and even disgusting. Their steps are very slow, measured, and heavy, their
bodies being carried about a foot from the ground. Their neck is long, and exceedingly
slender, from eighteen inches to two feet is a very common length, and I killed one,
where the distance from the shoulder to the extremity of the head was no less than three
feet ten inches. The head has a striking resemblance to that of a serpent. They can exist
without food for an almost incredible length of time, instances having been known where
they have been thrown into the hold of a vessel and lain two years without nourishment
of any kind-being as fat, and, in every respect, in as good order at the expiration of the
time as when they were first put in. In one particular these extraordinary animals bear a
resemblance to the dromedary, or camel of the desert. In a bag at the root of the neck they
carry with them a constant supply of water. In some instances, upon killing them after a

full year's deprivation of all nourishment, as much as three gallons of perfectly sweet and
fresh water have been found in their bags. Their food is chiefly wild parsley and celery,
with purslain, sea-kelp, and prickly pears, upon which latter vegetable they thrive
wonderfully, a great quantity of it being usually found on the hillsides near the shore
wherever the animal itself is discovered. They are excellent and highly nutritious food,
and have, no doubt, been the means of preserving the lives of thousands of seamen
employed in the whale-fishery and other pursuits in the Pacific.

The one which we had the good fortune to bring up from the storeroom was not of a large
size, weighing probably sixty-five or seventy pounds. It was a female, and in excellent
condition, being exceedingly fat, and having more than a quart of limpid and sweet water
in its bag. This was indeed a treasure; and, falling on our knees with one accord, we
returned fervent thanks to God for so seasonable a relief.

We had great difficulty in getting the animal up through the opening, as its struggles were
fierce and its strength prodigious. It was upon the point of making its escape from Peter's
grasp, and slipping back into the water, when Augustus, throwing a rope with a slipknot
around its throat, held it up in this manner until I jumped into the hole by the side of
Peters, and assisted him in lifting it out.

The water we drew carefully from the bag into the jug; which, it will be remembered, had
been brought up before from the cabin. Having done this, we broke off the neck of a
bottle so as to form, with the cork, a kind of glass, holding not quite half a gill. We then
each drank one of these measures full, and resolved to limit ourselves to this quantity per
day as long as it should hold out.

During the last two or three days, the weather having been dry and pleasant, the bedding
we had obtained from the cabin, as well as our clothing, had become thoroughly dry, so
that we passed this night (that of the twenty-third) in comparative comfort, enjoying a
tranquil repose, after having supped plentifully on olives and ham, with a small
allowance of the wine. Being afraid of losing some of our stores overboard during the
night, in the event of a breeze springing up, we secured them as well as possible with
cordage to the fragments of the windlass. Our tortoise, which we were anxious to
preserve alive as long as we could, we threw on its back, and otherwise carefully
fastened.

CHAPTER XIII

July 24.-This morning saw us wonderfully recruited in spirits and strength.
Notwithstanding the perilous situation in which we were still placed, ignorant of our
position, although certainly at a great distance from land, without more food than would
last us for a fortnight even with great care, almost entirely without water, and floating
about at the mercy of every wind and wave on the merest wreck in the world, still the
infinitely more terrible distresses and dangers from which we had so lately and so
providentially been delivered caused us to regard what we now endured as but little more
than an ordinary evil-so strictly comparative is either good or ill.

At sunrise we were preparing to renew our attempts at getting up something from the
storeroom, when, a smart shower coming on, with some lightning, we turn our attention
to the catching of water by means of the sheet we had used before for this purpose. We
had no other means of collecting the rain than by holding the sheet spread out with one of
the forechain-plates in the middle of it. The water, thus conducted to the centre, was
drained through into our jug. We had nearly filled it in this manner, when, a heavy squall
coming on from the northward, obliged us to desist, as the hulk began once more to roll
so violently that we could no longer keep our feet. We now went forward, and, lashing
ourselves securely to the remnant of the windlass as before, awaited the event with far
more calmness than could have been anticipated or would have been imagined possible
under the circumstances. At noon the wind had freshened into a two-reef breeze, and by
night into a stiff gale, accompanied with a tremendously heavy swell. Experience having
taught us, however, the best method of arranging our lashings, we weathered this dreary
night in tolerable security, although thoroughly drenched at almost every instant by the
sea, and in momentary dread of being washed off. Fortunately, the weather was so warm
as to render the water rather grateful than otherwise.

July 25. -This morning the gale had diminished to a mere ten-knot breeze, and the sea had
gone down with it so considerably that we were able to keep ourselves dry upon the deck.
To our great grief, however, we found that two jars of our olives, as well as the whole of
our ham, had been washed overboard, in spite of the careful manner in which they had
been fastened. We determined not to kill the tortoise as yet, and contented ourselves for
the present with a breakfast on a few of the olives, and a measure of water each, which
latter we mixed half and half, with wine, finding great relief and strength from the
mixture, without the distressing intoxication which had ensued upon drinking the port.
The sea was still far too rough for the renewal of our efforts at getting up provision from
the storeroom. Several articles, of no importance to us in our present situation, floated up
through the opening during the day, and were immediately washed overboard. We also
now observed that the hulk lay more along than ever, so that we could not stand an
instant without lashing ourselves. On this account we passed a gloomy and
uncomfortable day. At noon the sun appeared to be nearly vertical, and we had no doubt
that we had been driven down by the long succession of northward and northwesterly
winds into the near vicinity of the equator. Toward evening saw several sharks, and were
somewhat alarmed by the audacious manner in which an enormously large one
approached us. At one time, a lurch throwing the deck very far beneath the water, the
monster actually swam in upon us, floundering for some moments just over the
companion-hatch, and striking Peters violently with his tail. A heavy sea at length hurled
him overboard, much to our relief. In moderate weather we might have easily captured
him.

July 26.-This morning, the wind having greatly abated, and the sea not being very rough,
we determined to renew our exertions in the storeroom. After a great deal of hard labor
during the whole day, we found that nothing further was to be expected from this quarter,
the partitions of the room having been stove during the night, and its contents swept into
the hold. This discovery, as may be supposed, filled us with despair.

July 27.-The sea nearly smooth, with a light wind, and still from the northward and
westward. The sun coming out hotly in the afternoon, we occupied ourselves in drying
our clothes. Found great relief from thirst, and much comfort otherwise, by bathing in the
sea; in this, however, we were forced to use great caution, being afraid of sharks, several
of which were seen swimming around the brig during the day.

July 28.-Good weather still. The brig now began to lie along so alarmingly that we feared
she would eventually roll bottom up. Prepared ourselves as well as we could for this
emergency, lashing our tortoise, waterjug, and two remaining jars of olives as far as
possible over to the windward, placing them outside the hull below the main-chains. The
sea very smooth all day, with little or no wind.

July 29.-A continuance of the same weather. Augustus's wounded arm began to evince
symptoms of mortification. He complained of drowsiness and excessive thirst, but no
acute pain. Nothing could be done for his relief beyond rubbing his wounds with a little
of the vinegar from the olives, and from this no benefit seemed to be experienced. We did
every thing in our power for his comfort, and trebled his allowance of water.

July 30.-An excessively hot day, with no wind. An enormous shark kept close by the
hulk during the whole of the forenoon. We made several unsuccessful attempts to capture
him by means of a noose. Augustus much worse, and evidently sinking as much from
want of proper nourishment as from the effect of his wounds. He constantly prayed to be
relieved from his sufferings, wishing for nothing but death. This evening we ate the last
of our olives, and found the water in our jug so putrid that we could not swallow it at all
without the addition of wine. Determined to kill our tortoise in the morning.

July 31. -After a night of excessive anxiety and fatigue, owing to the position of the hulk,
we set about killing and cutting up our tortoise. He proved to be much smaller than we
had supposed, although in good condition,-the whole meat about him not amounting to
more than ten pounds. With a view of preserving a portion of this as long as possible, we
cut it into fine pieces, and filled with them our three remaining olive jars and the wine-
bottle (all of which had been kept), pouring in afterward the vinegar from the olives. In
this manner we put away about three pounds of the tortoise, intending not to touch it until
we had consumed the rest. We concluded to restrict ourselves to about four ounces of the
meat per day; the whole would thus last us thirteen days. A brisk shower, with severe
thunder and lightning, came on about dusk, but lasted so short a time that we only
succeeded in catching about half a pint of water. The whole of this, by common consent,
was given to Augustus, who now appeared to be in the last extremity. He drank the water
from the sheet as we caught it (we holding it above him as he lay so as to let it run into
his mouth), for we had now nothing left capable of holding water, unless we had chosen
to empty out our wine from the carboy, or the stale water from the jug. Either of these
expedients would have been resorted to had the shower lasted.

The sufferer seemed to derive but little benefit from the draught. His arm was completely
black from the wrist to the shoulder, and his feet were like ice. We expected every
moment to see him breathe his last. He was frightfully emaciated; so much so that.

although he weighed a hundred and twenty-seven pounds upon his leaving Nantucket, he
now did not weigh more than forty or fifty at the farthest. His eyes were sunk far in his
head, being scarcely perceptible, and the skin of his cheeks hung so loosely as to prevent
his masticating any food, or even swallowing any liquid, without great difficulty.

August l.-A continuance of the same calm weather, with an oppressively hot sun.
Suffered exceedingly from thirst, the water in the jug being absolutely putrid and
swarming with vermin. We contrived, nevertheless, to swallow a portion of it by mixing
it with wine; our thirst, however, was but little abated. We found more relief by bathing
in the sea, but could not avail ourselves of this expedient except at long intervals, on
account of the continual presence of sharks. We now saw clearly that Augustus could not
be saved; that he was evidently dying. We could do nothing to relieve his sufferings,
which appeared to be great. About twelve o'clock he expired in strong convulsions, and
without having spoken for several days. His death filled us with the most gloomy
forebodings, and had so great an effect upon our spirits that we sat motionless by the
corpse during the whole day, and never addressed each other except in a whisper. It was
not until some time after dark that we took courage to get up and throw the body
overboard. It was then loathsome beyond expression, and so far decayed that, as Peters
attempted to lift it, an entire leg came off in his grasp. As the mass of putrefaction slipped
over the vessel's side into the water, the glare of phosphoric light with which it was
surrounded plainly discovered to us seven or eight large sharks, the clashing of whose
horrible teeth, as their prey was torn to pieces among them, might have been heard at the
distance of a mile. We shrunk within ourselves in the extremity of horror at the sound.

August 2. -The same fearfully calm and hot weather. The dawn found us in a state of
pitiable dejection as well as bodily exhaustion. The water in the jug was now absolutely
useless, being a thick gelatinous mass; nothing but frightful-looking worms mingled with
slime. We threw it out, and washed the jug well in the sea, afterward pouring a little
vinegar in it from our bottles of pickled tortoise. Our thirst could now scarcely be
endured, and we tried in vain to relieve it by wine, which seemed only to add fuel to the
flame, and excited us to a high degree of intoxication. We afterward endeavoured to
relieve our sufferings by mixing the wine with seawater; but this instantly brought about
the most violent retchings, so that we never again attempted it. During the whole day we
anxiously sought an opportunity of bathing, but to no purpose; for the hulk was now
entirely besieged on all sides with sharks-no doubt the identical monsters who had
devoured our poor companion on the evening before, and who were in momentary
expectation of another similar feast. This circumstance occasioned us the most bitter
regret and filled us with the most depressing and melancholy forebodings. We had
experienced indescribable relief in bathing, and to have this resource cut off in so
frightful a manner was more than we could bear. Nor, indeed, were we altogether free
from the apprehension of immediate danger, for the least slip or false movement would
have thrown us at once within reach of those voracious fish, who frequently thrust
themselves directly upon us, swimming up to leeward. No shouts or exertions on our part
seemed to alarm them. Even when one of the largest was struck with an axe by Peters and
much wounded, he persisted in his attempts to push in where we were. A cloud came up
at dusk, but, to our extreme anguish, passed over without discharging itself. It is quite

impossible to conceive our sufferings from thirst at this period. We passed a sleepless
night, both on this account and through dread of the sharks.

August 3.-N0 prospect of relief, and the brig lying still more and more along, so that now
we could not maintain a footing upon deck at all. Busied ourselves in securing our wine
and tortoise-meat, so that we might not lose them in the event of our rolling over. Got out
two stout spikes from the forechains, and, by means of the axe, drove them into the hull
to windward within a couple of feet of the water, this not being very far from the keel, as
we were nearly upon our beam-ends. To these spikes we now lashed our provisions, as
being more secure than their former position beneath the chains. Suffered great agony
from thirst during the whole day-no chance of bathing on account of the sharks, which
never left us for a moment. Found it impossible to sleep.

August 4.-A little before daybreak we perceived that the hulk was heeling over, and
aroused ourselves to prevent being thrown off by the movement. At first the roll was slow
and gradual, and we contrived to clamber over to windward very well, having taken the
precaution to leave ropes hanging from the spikes we had driven in for the provision. But
we had not calculated sufficiently upon the acceleration of the impetus; for, presently the
heel became too violent to allow of our keeping pace with it; and, before either of us
knew what was to happen, we found ourselves hurled furiously into the sea, and
struggling several fathoms beneath the surface, with the huge hull immediately above us.

In going under the water I had been obliged to let go my hold upon the rope; and finding
that I was completely beneath the vessel, and my strength nearly exhausted, I scarcely
made a struggle for life, and resigned myself, in a few seconds, to die. But here again I
was deceived, not having taken into consideration the natural rebound of the hull to
windward. The whirl of the water upward, which the vessel occasioned in Tolling
partially back, brought me to the surface still more violently than I had been plunged
beneath. Upon coming up I found myself about twenty yards from the hulk, as near as I
could judge. She was lying keel up, rocking furiously from side to side, and the sea in all
directions around was much agitated, and full of strong whirlpools. I could see nothing of
Peters. An oil-cask was floating within a few feet of me, and various other articles from
the brig were scattered about.

My principal terror was now on account of the sharks, which I knew to be in my vicinity.
In order to deter these, if possible, from approaching me, I splashed the water vigorously
with both hands and feet as I swam towards the hulk, creating a body of foam. I have no
doubt that to this expedient, simple as it was, I was indebted for my preservation; for the
sea all round the brig, just before her rolling over, was so crowded with these monsters,
that I must have been, and really was, in actual contact with some of them during my
progress. By great good fortune, however, I reached the side of the vessel in safety,
although so utterly weakened by the violent exertion I had used that I should never have
been able to get upon it but for the timely assistance of Peters, who, now, to my great joy,
made his appearance (having scrambled up to the keel from the opposite side of the hull),
and threw me the end of a rope-one of those which had been attached to the spikes.

Having barely escaped this danger, our attention was now directed to the dreadful
imminency of another-that of absolute starvation. Our whole stock of provision had been
swept overboard in spite of all our care in securing it; and seeing no longer the remotest
possibility of obtaining more, we gave way both of us to despair, weeping aloud like
children, and neither of us attempting to offer consolation to the other. Such weakness
can scarcely be conceived, and to those who have never been similarly situated will, no
doubt, appear unnatural; but it must be remembered that our intellects were so entirely
disordered by the long course of privation and terror to which we had been subjected, that
we could not justly be considered, at that period, in the light of rational beings. In
subsequent perils, nearly as great, if not greater, I bore up with fortitude against all the
evils of my situation, and Peters, it will be seen, evinced a stoical philosophy nearly as
incredible as his present childlike supineness and imbecility-the mental condition made
the difference.

The overturning of the brig, even with the consequent loss of the wine and turtle, would
not, in fact, have rendered our situation more deplorable than before, except for the
disappearance of the bedclothes by which we had been hitherto enabled to catch
rainwater, and of the jug in which we had kept it when caught; for we found the whole
bottom, from within two or three feet of the bends as far as the keel, together with the
keel itself, thickly covered with large barnacles, which proved to be excellent and highly
nutritious food. Thus, in two important respects, the accident we had so greatly dreaded
proved to be a benefit rather than an injury; it had opened to us a supply of provisions
which we could not have exhausted, using it moderately, in a month; and it had greatly
contributed to our comfort as regards position, we being much more at ease, and in
infinitely less danger, than before.

The difficulty, however, of now obtaining water blinded us to all the benefits of the
change in our condition. That we might be ready to avail ourselves, as far as possible, of
any shower which might fall we took off our shirts, to make use of them as we had of the
sheets-not hoping, of course, to get more in this way, even under the most favorable
circumstances, than half a gill at a time. No signs of a cloud appeared during the day, and
the agonies of our thirst were nearly intolerable. At night, Peters obtained about an hour's
disturbed sleep, but my intense sufferings would not permit me to close my eyes for a
single moment.

August 5. -To-day, a gentle breeze springing up carried us through a vast quantity of
seaweed, among which we were so fortunate as to find eleven small crabs, which
afforded us several delicious meals. Their shells being quite soft, we ate them entire, and
found that they irritated our thirst far less than the barnacles. Seeing no trace of sharks
among the seaweed, we also ventured to bathe, and remained in the water for four or five
hours, during which we experienced a very sensible diminution of our thirst. Were
greatly refreshed, and spent the night somewhat more comfortably than before, both of us
snatching a little sleep.

August 6.-This day we were blessed by a brisk and continual rain, lasting from about
noon until after dark. Bitterly did we now regret the loss of our jug and carboy; for, in

spite of the little means we had of catching the water, we might have filled one, if not
both of them. As it was, we contrived to satisfy the cravings of thirst by suffering the
shirts to become saturated, and then wringing them so as to let the grateful fluid trickle
into our mouths. In this occupation we passed the entire day.

August 7.-Just at daybreak we both at the same instant descried a sail to the eastward,
and evidently coming towards us! We hailed the glorious sight with a long, although
feeble shout of rapture; and began instantly to make every signal in our power, by flaring
the shirts in the air, leaping as high as our weak condition would permit, and even by
hallooing with all the strength of our lungs, although the vessel could not have been less
than fifteen miles distant. However, she still continued to near our hulk, and we felt that,
if she but held her present course, she must eventually come so close as to perceive us. In
about an hour after we first discovered her, we could clearly see the people on her decks.
She was a long, low, and rakish-looking topsail schooner, with a black ball in her
foretopsail, and had, apparently, a full crew. We now became alarmed, for we could
hardly imagine it possible that she did not observe us, and were apprehensive that she
meant to leave us to perish as we were-an act of fiendish barbarity, which, however
incredible it may appear, has been repeatedly perpetuated at sea, under circumstances
very nearly similar, and by beings who were regarded as belonging to the human
species.* In this instance, however, by the mercy of God, we were destined to be most
happily deceived; for, presently we were aware of a sudden commotion on the deck of the
stranger, who immediately afterward ran up a British flag, and, hauling her wind, bore up
directly upon us. In half an hour more we found ourselves in her cabin. She proved to be
the Jane Guy, of Liverpool, Captain Guy, bound on a sealing and trading voyage to the
South Seas and Pacific.

* The case of the brig Polly, of Boston, is one so much in point, and her fate, in many
respects, so remarkably similar to our own, that I cannot forbear alluding to it here. This
vessel, of one hundred and thirty tons burden, sailed from Boston, with a cargo of lumber
and provisions, for Santa Croix, on the twelfth of December, 1811, under the command
of Captain Casneau. There were eight souls on board besides the captain-the mate, four
seamen, and the cook, together with a Mr. Hunt, and a negro girl belonging to him. On
the fifteenth, having cleared the shoal of Georges, she sprung a leak in a gale of wind
from the southeast, and was finally capsized; but, the masts going by the board, she
afterward righted. They remained in this situation, without fire, and with very little
provision, for the period of one hundred and ninety-one days (from December the
fifteenth to June the twentieth), when Captain Casneau and Samuel Badger, the only
survivors, were taken off the wreck by the Fame, of Hull, Captain Featherstone, bound
home from Rio Janeiro. When picked up, they were in latitude 28 degrees N., longitude
13 degrees W., having drifted above two thousand miles! On the ninth of July the Fame
fell in with the brig Dromero, Captain Perkins, who landed the two sufferers in
Kennebeck. The narrative from which we gather these details ends in the following
words:

"It is natural to inquire how they could float such a vast distance, upon the most
frequented part of the Atlantic, and not be discovered all this time. They were passed by

more than a dozen sail, one of which came so nigh them that they could distinctly see the
people on deck and on the rigging looking at them; but, to the inexpressible
disappointment of the starving and freezing men, they stifled the dictates of compassion,
hoisted sail, and cruelly abandoned them to their fate."

CHAPTER XIV

The Jane Guy was a fine-looking topsail schooner of a hundred and eighty tons burden.
She was unusually sharp in the bows, and on a wind, in moderate weather, the fastest
sailer I have ever seen. Her qualities, however, as a rough sea-boat, were not so good, and
her draught of water was by far too great for the trade to which she was destined. For this
peculiar service, a larger vessel, and one of a light proportionate draught, is desirable-say
a vessel of from three hundred to three hundred and fifty tons. She should be bark-rigged,
and in other respects of a different construction from the usual South Sea ships. It is
absolutely necessary that she should be well armed. She should have, say ten or twelve
twelve-pound carronades, and two or three long twelves, with brass blunderbusses, and
water-tight arm-chests for each top. Her anchors and cables should be of far greater
strength than is required for any other species of trade, and, above all, her crew should be
numerous and efficient-not less, for such a vessel as I have described, than fifty or sixty
able-bodied men. The Jane Guy had a crew of thirty-five, all able seamen, besides the
captain and mate, but she was not altogether as well armed or otherwise equipped, as a
navigator acquainted with the difficulties and dangers of the trade could have desired.

Captain Guy was a gentleman of great urbanity of manner, and of considerable
experience in the southern traffic, to which he had devoted a great portion of his life. He
was deficient, however, in energy, and, consequently, in that spirit of enterprise which is
here so absolutely requisite. He was part owner of the vessel in which he sailed, and was
invested with discretionary powers to cruise in the South Seas for any cargo which might
come most readily to hand. He had on board, as usual in such voyages, beads, looking-
glasses, tinder-works, axes, hatchets, saws, adzes, planes, chisels, gouges, gimlets, files,
spokeshaves, rasps, hammers, nails, knives, scissors, razors, needles, thread, crockery-
ware, calico, trinkets, and other similar articles.

The schooner sailed from Liverpool on the tenth of July, crossed the Tropic of Cancer on
the twenty-fifth, in longitude twenty degrees west, and reached Sal, one of the Cape Verd
islands, on the twenty-ninth, where she took in salt and other necessaries for the voyage.
On the third of August, she left the Cape Verds and steered southwest, stretching over
toward the coast of Brazil, so as to cross the equator between the meridians of twenty-
eight and thirty degrees west longitude. This is the course usually taken by vessels bound
from Europe to the Cape of Good Hope, or by that route to the East Indies. By
proceeding thus they avoid the calms and strong contrary currents which continually
prevail on the coast of Guinea, while, in the end, it is found to be the shortest track, as
westerly winds are never wanting afterward by which to reach the Cape. It was Captain
Guy's intention to make his first stoppage at Kerguelen's Land-I hardly know for what
reason. On the day we were picked up the schooner was off Cape St. Roque, in longitude

thirty-one degrees west; so that, when found, we had drifted probably, from north to
south, not less than five-and-twenty degrees!

On board the Jane Guy we were treated with all the kindness our distressed situation
demanded. In about a fortnight, during which time we continued steering to the southeast,
with gentle breezes and fine weather, both Peters and myself recovered entirely from the
effects of our late privation and dreadful sufferings, and we began to remember what had
passed rather as a frightful dream from which we had been happily awakened, than as
events which had taken place in sober and naked reality. I have since found that this
species of partial oblivion is usually brought about by sudden transition, whether from
joy to sorrow or from sorrow to joy-the degree of forgetfulness being proportioned to the
degree of difference in the exchange. Thus, in my own case, I now feel it impossible to
realize the full extent of the misery which I endured during the days spent upon the hulk.
The incidents are remembered, but not the feelings which the incidents elicited at the
time of their occurrence. I only know, that when they did occur, I then thought human
nature could sustain nothing more of agony.

We continued our voyage for some weeks without any incidents of greater moment than
the occasional meeting with whaling-ships, and more frequently with the black or right
whale, so called in contradistinction to the spermaceti. These, however, were chiefly
found south of the twenty-fifth parallel. On the sixteenth of September, being in the
vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope, the schooner encountered her first gale of any
violence since leaving Liverpool. In this neighborhood, but more frequently to the south
and east of the promontory (we were to the westward), navigators have often to contend
with storms from the northward, which rage with great fury. They always bring with
them a heavy sea, and one of their most dangerous features is the instantaneous chopping
round of the wind, an occurrence almost certain to take place during the greatest force of
the gale. A perfect hurricane will be blowing at one moment from the northward or
northeast, and in the next not a breath of wind will be felt in that direction, while from the
southwest it will come out all at once with a violence almost inconceivable. A bright spot
to the southward is the sure forerunner of the change, and vessels are thus enabled to take
the proper precautions.

It was about six in the morning when the blow came on with a white squall, and, as usual,
from the northward. By eight it had increased very much, and brought down upon us one
of the most tremendous seas I had then ever beheld. Every thing had been made as snug
as possible, but the schooner laboured excessively, and gave evidence of her bad qualities
as a seaboat, pitching her forecastle under at every plunge and with the greatest difficulty
struggling up from one wave before she was buried in another, just before sunset the
bright spot for which we had been on the look-out made its appearance in the southwest,
and in an hour afterward we perceived the little headsail we carried flapping listlessly
against the mast. In two minutes more, in spite of every preparation, we were hurled on
our beam-ends, as if by magic, and a perfect wilderness of foam made a clear breach over
us as we lay. The blow from the southwest, however, luckily proved to be nothing more
than a squall, and we had the good fortune to right the vessel without the loss of a spar. A
heavy cross sea gave us great trouble for a few hours after this, but toward morning we

found ourselves in nearly as good condition as before the gale. Captain Guy considered
that he had made an escape little less than miraculous.

On the thirteenth of October we came in sight of Prince Edward's Island, in latitude 46
degrees 53' S., longitude 37 degrees 46' E. Two days afterward we found ourselves near
Possession Island, and presently passed the islands of Crozet, in latitude 42 degrees 59'
S., longitude 48 degrees E. On the eighteenth we made Kerguelen's or Desolation Island,
in the Southern Indian Ocean, and came to anchor in Christmas Harbour, having four
fathoms of water.

This island, or rather group of islands, bears southeast from the Cape of Good Hope, and
is distant therefrom nearly eight hundred leagues. It was first discovered in 1772, by the
Baron de Kergulen, or Kerguelen, a Frenchman, who, thinking the land to form a portion
of an extensive southern continent carried home information to that effect, which
produced much excitement at the time. The government, taking the matter up, sent the
baron back in the following year for the purpose of giving his new discovery a critical
examination, when the mistake was discovered. In 1777, Captain Cook fell in with the
same group, and gave to the principal one the name of Desolation Island, a title which it
certainly well deserves. Upon approaching the land, however, the navigator might be
induced to suppose otherwise, as the sides of most of the hills, from September to March,
are clothed with very brilliant verdure. This deceitful appearance is caused by a small
plant resembling saxifrage, which is abundant, growing in large patches on a species of
crumbling moss. Besides this plant there is scarcely a sign of vegetation on the island, if
we except some coarse rank grass near the harbor, some lichen, and a shrub which bears
resemblance to a cabbage shooting into seed, and which has a bitter and acrid taste.

The face of the country is hilly, although none of the hills can be called lofty. Their tops
are perpetually covered with snow. There are several harbors, of which Christmas
Harbour is the most convenient. It is the first to be met with on the northeast side of the
island after passing Cape Francois, which forms the northern shore, and, by its peculiar
shape, serves to distinguish the harbour. Its projecting point terminates in a high rock,
through which is a large hole, forming a natural arch. The entrance is in latitude 48
degrees 40' S., longitude 69 degrees 6' E. Passing in here, good anchorage may be found
under the shelter of several small islands, which form a sufficient protection from all
easterly winds. Proceeding on eastwardly from this anchorage you come to Wasp Bay, at
the head of the harbour. This is a small basin, completely landlocked, into which you can
go with four fathoms, and find anchorage in from ten to three, hard clay bottom. A ship
might lie here with her best bower ahead all the year round without risk. To the
westward, at the head of Wasp Bay, is a small stream of excellent water, easily procured.

Some seal of the fur and hair species are still to be found on Kerguelen's Island, and sea
elephants abound. The feathered tribes are discovered in great numbers. Penguins are
very plenty, and of these there are four different kinds. The royal penguin, so called from
its size and beautiful plumage, is the largest. The upper part of the body is usually gray,
sometimes of a lilac tint; the under portion of the purest white imaginable. The head is of
a glossy and most brilliant black, the feet also. The chief beauty of plumage, however.

consists in two broad stripes of a gold color, which pass along from the head to the
breast. The bill is long, and either pink or bright scarlet. These birds walk erect; with a
stately carriage. They carry their heads high with their wings drooping like two arms,
and, as their tails project from their body in a line with the legs, the resemblance to a
human figure is very striking, and would be apt to deceive the spectator at a casual glance
or in the gloom of the evening. The royal penguins which we met with on Kerguelen's
Land were rather larger than a goose. The other kinds are the macaroni, the jackass, and
the rookery penguin. These are much smaller, less beautiful in plumage, and different in
other respects.

Besides the penguin many other birds are here to be found, among which may be
mentioned sea-hens, blue peterels, teal, ducks. Port Egmont hens, shags. Cape pigeons,
the nelly, sea swallows, terns, sea gulls. Mother Carey's chickens. Mother Carey's geese,
or the great peterel, and, lastly, the albatross.

The great peterel is as large as the common albatross, and is carnivorous. It is frequently
called the break-bones, or osprey peterel. They are not at all shy, and, when properly
cooked, are palatable food. In flying they sometimes sail very close to the surface of the
water, with the wings expanded, without appearing to move them in the least degree, or
make any exertion with them whatever.

The albatross is one of the largest and fiercest of the South Sea birds. It is of the gull
species, and takes its prey on the wing, never coming on land except for the purpose of
breeding. Between this bird and the penguin the most singular friendship exists. Their
nests are constructed with great uniformity upon a plan concerted between the two
species-that of the albatross being placed in the centre of a little square formed by the
nests of four penguins. Navigators have agreed in calling an assemblage of such
encampments a rookery. These rookeries have been often described, but as my readers
may not all have seen these descriptions, and as I shall have occasion hereafter to speak
of the penguin and albatross, it will not be amiss to say something here of their mode of
building and living.

When the season for incubation arrives, the birds assemble in vast numbers, and for some
days appear to be deliberating upon the proper course to be pursued. At length they
proceed to action. A level piece of ground is selected, of suitable extent, usually
comprising three or four acres, and situated as near the sea as possible, being still beyond
its reach. The spot is chosen with reference to its evenness of surface, and that is
preferred which is the least encumbered with stones. This matter being arranged, the
birds proceed, with one accord, and actuated apparently by one mind, to trace out, with
mathematical accuracy, either a square or other parallelogram, as may best suit the nature
of the ground, and of just sufficient size to accommodate easily all the birds assembled,
and no more-in this particular seeming determined upon preventing the access of future
stragglers who have not participated in the labor of the encampment. One side of the
place thus marked out runs parallel with the water's edge, and is left open for ingress or
egress.

Having defined the limits of the rookery, the colony now begin to clear it of every species
of rubbish, picking up stone by stone, and carrying them outside of the lines, and close by
them, so as to form a wall on the three inland sides. Just within this wall a perfectly level
and smooth walk is formed, from six to eight feet wide, and extending around the
encampment-thus serving the purpose of a general promenade.

The next process is to partition out the whole area into small squares exactly equal in
size. This is done by forming narrow paths, very smooth, and crossing each other at right
angles throughout the entire extent of the rookery. At each intersection of these paths the
nest of an albatross is constructed, and a penguin's nest in the centre of each square-thus
every penguin is surrounded by four albatrosses, and each albatross by a like number of
penguins. The penguin's nest consists of a hole in the earth, very shallow, being only just
of sufficient depth to keep her single egg from rolling. The albatross is somewhat less
simple in her arrangements, erecting a hillock about a foot high and two in diameter. This
is made of earth, seaweed, and shells. On its summit she builds her nest.

The birds take especial care never to leave their nests unoccupied for an instant during
the period of incubation, or, indeed, until the young progeny are sufficiently strong to
take care of themselves. While the male is absent at sea in search of food, the female
remains on duty, and it is only upon the return of her partner that she ventures abroad.
The eggs are never left uncovered at all-while one bird leaves the nest the other nestling
in by its side. This precaution is rendered necessary by the thieving propensities prevalent
in the rookery, the inhabitants making no scruple to purloin each other's eggs at every
good opportunity.

Although there are some rookeries in which the penguin and albatross are the sole
population, yet in most of them a variety of oceanic birds are to be met with, enjoying all
the privileges of citizenship, and scattering their nests here and there, wherever they can
find room, never interfering, however, with the stations of the larger species. The
appearance of such encampments, when seen from a distance, is exceedingly singular.
The whole atmosphere just above the settlement is darkened with the immense number of
the albatross (mingled with the smaller tribes) which are continually hovering over it,
either going to the ocean or returning home. At the same time a crowd of penguins are to
be observed, some passing to and fro in the narrow alleys, and some marching with the
military strut so peculiar to them, around the general promenade ground which encircles
the rookery. In short, survey it as we will, nothing can be more astonishing than the spirit
of reflection evinced by these feathered beings, and nothing surely can be better
calculated to elicit reflection in every well-regulated human intellect.

On the morning after our arrival in Christmas Harbour the chief mate, Mr. Patterson, took
the boats, and (although it was somewhat early in the season) went in search of seal,
leaving the captain and a young relation of his on a point of barren land to the westward,
they having some business, whose nature I could not ascertain, to transact in the interior
of the island. Captain Guy took with him a bottle, in which was a sealed letter, and made
his way from the point on which he was set on shore toward one of the highest peaks in
the place. It is probable that his design was to leave the letter on that height for some

vessel which he expected to come after him. As soon as we lost sight of him we
proceeded (Peters and myself being in the mate's boat) on our cruise around the coast,
looking for seal. In this business we were occupied about three weeks, examining with
great care every nook and comer, not only of Kerguelen's Land, but of the several small
islands in the vicinity. Our labours, however, were not crowned with any important
success. We saw a great many fur seal, but they were exceedingly shy, and with the
greatest exertions, we could only procure three hundred and fifty skins in all. Sea
elephants were abundant, especially on the westem coast of the mainland, but of these we
killed only twenty, and this with great difficulty. On the smaller islands we discovered a
good many of the hair seal, but did not molest them. We retumed to the schooner: on the
eleventh, where we found Captain Guy and his nephew, who gave a very bad account of
the interior, representing it as one of the most dreary and utterly barren countries in the
world. They had remained two nights on the island, owing to some misunderstanding, on
the part of the second mate, in regard to the sending a joUyboat from the schooner to take
them off.

CHAPTER XV

On the twelfth we made sail from Christmas Harbour retracing our way to the westward,
and leaving Marion's Island, one of Crozet's group, on the larboard. We afterward passed
Prince Edward's Island, leaving it also on our left, then, steering more to the northward,
made, in fifteen days, the islands of Tristan d'Acunha, in latitude 37 degrees 8' S,
longitude 12 degrees 8' W.

This group, now so well known, and which consists of three circular islands, was first
discovered by the Portuguese, and was visited afterward by the Dutch in 1643, and by the
French in 1767. The three islands together form a triangle, and are distant from each
other about ten miles, there being fine open passages between. The land in all of them is
very high, especially in Tristan d'Acunha, properly so called. This is the largest of the
group, being fifteen miles in circumference, and so elevated that it can be seen in clear
weather at the distance of eighty or ninety miles. A part of the land toward the north rises
more than a thousand feet perpendicularly from the sea. A tableland at this height extends
back nearly to the centre of the island, and from this tableland arises a lofty cone like that
of Teneriffe. The lower half of this cone is clothed with trees of good size, but the upper
region is barren rock, usually hidden among the clouds, and covered with snow during
the greater part of the year. There are no shoals or other dangers about the island, the
shores being remarkably bold and the water deep. On the northwestern coast is a bay,
with a beach of black sand where a landing with boats can be easily effected, provided
there be a southerly wind. Plenty of excellent water may here be readily procured; also
cod and other fish may be taken with hook and line.

The next island in point of size, and the most westwardly of the group, is that called the
Inaccessible. Its precise situation is 37 degrees 17' S. latitude, longitude 12 degrees 24'
W. It is seven or eight miles in circumference, and on all sides presents a forbidding and
precipitous aspect. Its top is perfectly flat, and the whole region is sterile, nothing
growing upon it except a few stunted shrubs.

Nightingale Island, the smallest and most southerly, is in latitude 37 degrees 26' S.,
longitude 12 degrees 12' W. Off its southern extremity is a high ledge of rocky islets; a
few also of a similar appearance are seen to the northeast. The ground is irregular and
sterile, and a deep valley partially separates it.

The shores of these islands abound, in the proper season, with sea lions, sea elephants,
the hair and fur seal, together with a great variety of oceanic birds. Whales are also plenty
in their vicinity. Owing to the ease with which these various animals were here formerly
taken, the group has been much visited since its discovery. The Dutch and French
frequented it at a very early period. In 1790, Captain Patten, of the ship Industry, of
Philadelphia, made Tristan d'Acunha, where he remained seven months (from August,
1790, to April, 1791) for the purpose of collecting sealskins. In this time he gathered no
less than five thousand six hundred, and says that he would have had no difficulty in
loading a large ship with oil in three weeks. Upon his arrival he found no quadrupeds,
with the exception of a few wild goats; the island now abounds with all our most valuable
domestic animals, which have been introduced by subsequent navigators.

I believe it was not long after Captain Patten's visit that Captain Colquhoun, of the
American brig Betsey, touched at the largest of the islands for the purpose of
refreshment. He planted onions, potatoes, cabbages, and a great many other vegetables,
an abundance of all which is now to be met with.

In 181 1, a Captain Haywood, in the Nereus, visited Tristan. He found there three
Americans, who were residing upon the island to prepare sealskins and oil. One of these
men was named Jonathan Lambert, and he called himself the sovereign of the country.
He had cleared and cultivated about sixty acres of land, and turned his attention to raising
the coffee-plant and sugar-cane, with which he had been furnished by the American
Minister at Rio Janeiro. This settlement, however, was finally abandoned, and in 1817 the
islands were taken possession of by the British Government, who sent a detachment for
that purpose from the Cape of Good Hope. They did not, however, retain them long; but,
upon the evacuation of the country as a British possession, two or three English families
took up their residence there independently of the Government. On the twenty-fifth of
March, 1824, the Berwick, Captain Jeffrey, from London to Van Diemen's Land, arrived
at the place, where they found an Englishman of the name of Glass, formerly a corporal
in the British artillery. He claimed to be supreme governor of the islands, and had under
his control twenty-one men and three women. He gave a very favourable account of the
salubrity of the climate and of the productiveness of the soil. The population occupied
themselves chiefly in collecting sealskins and sea elephant oil, with which they traded to
the Cape of Good Hope, Glass owning a small schooner. At the period of our arrival the
governor was still a resident, but his little community had multiplied, there being fifty- six
persons upon Tristan, besides a smaller settlement of seven on Nightingale Island. We
had no difficulty in procuring almost every kind of refreshment which we required-
sheep, hogs, bullocks, rabbits, poultry, goats, fish in great variety, and vegetables were
abundant. Having come to anchor close in with the large island, in eighteen fathoms, we
took all we wanted on board very conveniently. Captain Guy also purchased of Glass five
hundred sealskins and some ivory. We remained here a week, during which the

prevailing winds were from the northward and westward, and the weather somewhat
hazy. On the fifth of November we made sail to the southward and westward, with the
intention of having a thorough search for a group of islands called the Auroras, respecting
whose existence a great diversity of opinion has existed.

These islands are said to have been discovered as early as 1762, by the commander of the
ship Aurora. In 1790, Captain Manuel de Oyarvido,, in the ship Princess, belonging to the
Royal Philippine Company, sailed, as he asserts, directly among them. In 1794, the
Spanish corvette Atrevida went with the determination of ascertaining their precise
situation, and, in a paper published by the Royal Hydrographical Society of Madrid in the
year 1809, the following language is used respecting this expedition: "The corvette
Atrevida practised, in their immediate vicinity, from the twenty-first to the twenty-
seventh of January, all the necessary observations, and measured by chronometers the
difference of longitude between these islands and the port of Soledad in the Manillas. The
islands are three, they are very nearly in the same meridian; the centre one is rather low,
and the other two may be seen at nine leagues' distance." The observations made on
board the Atrevida give the following results as the precise situation of each island. The
most northern is in latitude 52 degrees 37' 24" S., longitude 47 degrees, 43' 15" W.; the
middle one in latitude 53 degrees 2' 40" S., longitude 47 degrees 55' 15" W.; and the most
southern in latitude 53 degrees 15' 22" S., longitude 47 degrees 57' 15" W.

On the twenty- seventh of January, 1820, Captain James Weddel, of the British navy,
sailed from Staten Land also in search of the Auroras. He reports that, having made the
most diligent search and passed not only immediately over the spots indicated by the
commander of the Atrevida, but in every direction throughout the vicinity of these spots,
he could discover no indication of land. These conflicting statements have induced other
navigators to look out for the islands; and, strange to say, while some have sailed through
every inch of sea where they are supposed to lie without finding them, there have been
not a few who declare positively that they have seen them; and even been close in with
their shores. It was Captain Guy's intention to make every exertion within his power to
settle the question so oddly in dispute.*

* Among the vessels which at various times have professed to meet with the Auroras may
be mentioned the ship San Miguel, in 1769; the ship Aurora, in 1774; the brig Pearl, in
1779; and the ship Dolores, in 1790. They all agree in giving the mean latitude fifty-three
degrees south.

We kept on our course, between the south and west, with variable weather, until the
twentieth of the month, when we found ourselves on the debated ground, being in latitude
53 degrees 15' S., longitude 47 degrees 58' W.-that is to say, very nearly upon the spot
indicated as the situation of the most southern of the group. Not perceiving any sip of
land, we continued to the westward of the parallel of fifty-three degrees south, as far as
the meridian of fifty degrees west. We then stood to the north as far as the parallel of
fifty-two degrees south, when we turned to the eastward, and kept our parallel by double
altitudes, morning and evening, and meridian altitudes of the planets and moon. Having
thus gone eastwardly to the meridian of the western coast of Georgia, we kept that

meridian until we were in the latitude from which we set out. We then took diagonal
courses throughout the entire extent of sea circumscribed, keeping a lookout constantly at
the masthead, and repeating our examination with the greatest care for a period of three
weeks, during which the weather was remarkably pleasant and fair, with no haze
whatsoever. Of course we were thoroughly satisfied that, whatever islands might have
existed in this vicinity at any former period, no vestige of them remained at the present
day. Since my return home I find that the same ground was traced over, with equal care,
in 1822, by Captain Johnson, of the American schooner Henry, and by Captain Morrell in
the American schooner Wasp-in both cases with the same result as in our own.

CHAPTER XVI

It had been Captain Guy's original intention, after satisfying himself about the Auroras, to
proceed through the Strait of Magellan, and up along the western coast of Patagonia; but
information received at Tristan d'Acunha induced him to steer to the southward, in the
hope of falling in with some small islands said to lie about the parallel of 60 degrees S.,
longitude 41 degrees 20' W. In the event of his not discovering these lands, he designed,
should the season prove favourable, to push on toward the pole. Accordingly, on the
twelfth of December, we made sail in that direction. On the eighteenth we found
ourselves about the station indicated by Glass, and cruised for three days in that
neighborhood without finding any traces of the islands he had mentioned. On the twenty-
first, the weather being unusually pleasant, we again made sail to the southward, with the
resolution of penetrating in that course as far as possible. Before entering upon this
portion of my narrative, it may be as well, for the information of those readers who have
paid little attention to the progress of discovery in these regions, to give some brief
account of the very few attempts at reaching the southern pole which have hitherto been
made.

That of Captain Cook was the first of which we have any distinct account. In 1772 he
sailed to the south in the Resolution, accompanied by Lieutenant Furneaux in the
Adventure. In December he found himself as far as the fifty-eighth parallel of south
latitude, and in longitude 26 degrees 57' E. Here he met with narrow fields of ice, about
eight or ten inches thick, and running northwest and southeast. This ice was in large
cakes, and usually it was packed so closely that the vessel had great difficulty in forcing a
passage. At this period Captain Cook supposed, from the vast number of birds to be seen,
and from other indications, that he was in the near vicinity of land. He kept on to the
southward, the weather being exceedingly cold, until he reached the sixty-fourth parallel,
in longitude 38 degrees 14' W.. Here he had mild weather, with gentle breezes, for five
days, the thermometer being at thirty-six. In January, 1773, the vessels crossed the
Antarctic circle, but did not succeed in penetrating much farther; for upon reaching
latitude 67 degrees 15' they found all farther progress impeded by an immense body of
ice, extending all along the southern horizon as far as the eye could reach. This ice was of
every variety-and some large floes of it, miles in extent, formed a compact mass, rising
eighteen or twenty feet above the water. It being late in the season, and no hope
entertained of rounding these obstructions. Captain Cook now reluctantly turned to the
northward.

In the November following he renewed his search in the Antarctic. In latitude 59 degrees
40' he met with a strong current setting to the southward. In December, when the vessels
were in latitude 67 degrees 31', longitude 142 degrees 54' W., the cold was excessive,
with heavy gales and fog. Here also birds were abundant; the albatross, the penguin, and
the peterel especially. In latitude 70 degrees 23' some large islands of ice were
encountered, and shortly afterward the clouds to the southward were observed to be of a
snowy whiteness, indicating the vicinity of field ice. In latitude 71 degrees 10', longitude
106 degrees 54' W., the navigators were stopped, as before, by an immense frozen
expanse, which filled the whole area of the southern horizon. The northern edge of this
expanse was ragged and broken, so firmly wedged together as to be utterly impassible,
and extending about a mile to the southward. Behind it the frozen surface was
comparatively smooth for some distance, until terminated in the extreme background by
gigantic ranges of ice mountains, the one towering above the other. Captain Cook
concluded that this vast field reached the southern pole or was joined to a continent. Mr.
J. N. Reynolds, whose great exertions and perseverance have at length succeeded in
getting set on foot a national expedition, partly for the purpose of exploring these regions,
thus speaks of the attempt of the Resolution. "We are not surprised that Captain Cook
was unable to go beyond 71 degrees 10', but we are astonished that he did attain that
point on the meridian of 106 degrees 54' west longitude. Palmer's Land lies south of the
Shetland, latitude sixty-four degrees, and tends to the southward and westward farther
than any navigator has yet penetrated. Cook was standing for this land when his progress
was arrested by the ice; which, we apprehend, must always be the case in that point, and
so early in the season as the sixth of January-and we should not be surprised if a portion
of the icy mountains described was attached to the main body of Palmer's Land, or to
some other portions of land lying farther to the southward and westward."

In 1803, Captains Kreutzenstern and Lisiausky were dispatched by Alexander of Russia
for the purpose of circumnavigating the globe. In endeavouring to get south, they made
no farther than 59 degrees 58', in longitude 70 degrees 15' W. They here met with strong
currents setting eastwardly. Whales were abundant, but they saw no ice. In regard to this
voyage, Mr. Reynolds observes that, if Kreutzenstern had arrived where he did earlier in
the season, he must have encountered ice-it was March when he reached the latitude
specified. The winds, prevailing, as they do, from the southward and westward, had
carried the floes, aided by currents, into that icy region bounded on the north by Georgia,
east by Sandwich Land and the South Orkneys, and west by the South Shetland islands.

In 1822, Captain James Weddell, of the British navy, with two very small vessels,
penetrated farther to the south than any previous navigator, and this, too, without
encountering extraordinary difficulties. He states that although he was frequently
hemmed in by ice before reaching the seventy- second parallel, yet, upon attaining it, not
a particle was to be discovered, and that, upon arriving at the latitude of 74 degrees 15',
no fields, and only three islands of ice were visible. It is somewhat remarkable that,
although vast flocks of birds were seen, and other usual indications of land, and although,
south of the Shetlands, unknown coasts were observed from the masthead tending
southwardly, Weddell discourages the idea of land existing in the polar regions of the
south.

On the 11th of January, 1823, Captain Benjamin Morrell, of the American schooner
Wasp, sailed from Kerguelen's Land with a view of penetrating as far south as possible.
On the first of February he found himself in latitude 64 degrees 52' S., longitude 118
degrees 27' E. The following passage is extracted from his journal of that date. "The wind
soon freshened to an eleven-knot breeze, and we embraced this opportunity of making to
the west,; being however convinced that the farther we went south beyond latitude sixty-
four degrees, the less ice was to be apprehended, we steered a little to the southward,
until we crossed the Antarctic circle, and were in latitude 69 degrees 15' E. In this latitude
there was no field ice, and very few ice islands in sight.

Under the date of March fourteenth I find also this entry. The sea was now entirely free
of field ice, and there were not more than a dozen ice islands in sight. At the same time
the temperature of the air and water was at least thirteen degrees higher (more mild) than
we had ever found it between the parallels of sixty and sixty-two south. We were now in
latitude 70 degrees 14' S., and the temperature of the air was forty-seven, and that of the
water forty-four. In this situation I found the variation to be 14 degrees 27' easterly, per
azimuth.... I have several times passed within the Antarctic circle, on different meridians,
and have uniformly found the temperature, both of the air and the water, to become more
and more mild the farther I advanced beyond the sixty-fifth degree of south latitude, and
that the variation decreases in the same proportion. While north of this latitude, say
between sixty and sixty-five south, we frequently had great difficulty in finding a passage
for the vessel between the immense and almost innumerable ice islands, some of which
were from one to two miles in circumference, and more than five hundred feet above the
surface of the water."

Being nearly destitute of fuel and water, and without proper instruments, it being also late
in the season. Captain Morrell was now obliged to put back, without attempting any
further progress to the westward, although an entirely open, sea lay before him. He
expresses the opinion that, had not these overruling considerations obliged him to retreat,
he could have penetrated, if not to the pole itself, at least to the eighty-fifth parallel. I
have given his ideas respecting these matters somewhat at length, that the reader may
have an opportunity of seeing how far they were borne out by my own subsequent
experience.

In 1831, Captain Briscoe, in the employ of the Messieurs Enderby, whale-ship owners of
London, sailed in the brig Lively for the South Seas, accompanied by the cutter Tula. On
the twenty-eighth of February, being in latitude 66 degrees 30' S., longitude 47 degrees
31' E., he descried land, and "clearly discovered through the snow the black peaks of a
range of mountains running E. S. E." He remained in this neighbourhood during the
whole of the following month, but was unable to approach the coast nearer than within
ten leagues, owing to the boisterous state of the weather. Finding it impossible to make
further discovery during this season, he returned northward to winter in Van Diemen's
Land.

In the beginning of 1832 he again proceeded southwardly, and on the fourth of February
was seen to the southeast in latitude 67 degrees 15' longitude 69 degrees 29' W. This was

soon found to be an island near the headland of the country he had first discovered. On
the twenty-first of the month he succeeded in landing on the latter, and took possession of
it in the name of William IV, calling it Adelaide's Island, in honour of the English queen.
These particulars being made known to the Royal Geographical Society of London, the
conclusion was drawn by that body "that there is a continuous tract of land extending
from 47 degrees 30' E. to 69 degrees 29' W. longitude, running the parallel of from sixty-
six to sixty-seven degrees south latitude." In respect to this conclusion Mr. Reynolds
observes: "In the correctness of it we by no means concur; nor do the discoveries of
Briscoe warrant any such indifference. It was within these limits that Weddel proceeded
south on a meridian to the east of Georgia, Sandwich Land, and the South Orkney and
Shetland islands." My own experience will be found to testify most directly to the falsity
of the conclusion arrived at by the society.

These are the principal attempts which have been made at penetrating to a high southern
latitude, and it will now be seen that there remained, previous to the voyage of the Jane,
nearly three hundred degrees of longitude in which the Antarctic circle had not been
crossed at all. Of course a wide field lay before us for discovery, and it was with feelings
of most intense interest that I heard Captain Guy express his resolution of pushing boldly
to the southward.

CHAPTER XVII

We kept our course southwardly for four days after giving up the search for Glass's
islands, without meeting with any ice at all. On the twenty-sixth, at noon, we were in
latitude 63 degrees 23' S., longitude 41 degrees 25' W. We now saw several large ice
islands, and a floe of field ice, not, however, of any great extent. The winds generally
blew from the southeast, or the northeast, but were very light. Whenever we had a
westerly wind, which was seldom, it was invariably attended with a rain squall. Every
day we had more or less snow. The thermometer, on the twenty- seventh stood at thirty-
five.

January 1, 1828.-This day we found ourselves completely hemmed in by the ice, and our
prospects looked cheerless indeed. A strong gale blew, during the whole forenoon, from
the northeast, and drove large cakes of the drift against the rudder and counter with such
violence that we all trembled for the consequences. Toward evening, the gale still
blowing with fury, a large field in front separated, and we were enabled, by carrying a
press of sail to force a passage through the smaller flakes into some open water beyond.
As we approached this space we took in sail by degrees, and having at length got clear,
lay-to under a single, reefed foresail.

January 2.-We had now tolerably pleasant weather. At noon we found ourselves in
latitude 69 degrees 10' S, longitude 42 degrees 20' W, having crossed the Antarctic circle.
Very little ice was to be seen to the southward, although large fields of it lay behind us.
This day we rigged some sounding gear, using a large iron pot capable of holding twenty
gallons, and a line of two hundred fathoms. We found the current setting to the north.

about a quarter of a mile per hour. The temperature of the air was now about thirty-three.
Here we found the variation to be 14 degrees 28' easterly, per azimuth.

January 5.-We had still held on to the southward without any very great impediments. On
this morning, however, being in latitude 73 degrees 15' E., longitude 42 degrees 10' W,
we were again brought to a stand by an immense expanse of firm ice. We saw,
nevertheless, much open water to the southward, and felt no doubt of being able to reach
it eventually. Standing to the eastward along the edge of the floe, we at length came to a
passage of about a mile in width, through which we warped our way by sundown. The
sea in which we now were was thickly covered with ice islands, but had no field ice, and
we pushed on boldly as before. The cold did not seem to increase, although we had snow
very frequently, and now and then hail squalls of great violence. Immense flocks of the
albatross flew over the schooner this day, going from southeast to northwest.

January 7. -The sea still remained pretty well open, so that we had no difficulty in holding
on our course. To the westward we saw some icebergs of incredible size, and in the
afternoon passed very near one whose summit could not have been less than four hundred
fathoms from the surface of the ocean. Its girth was probably, at the base, three-quarters
of a league, and several streams of water were running from crevices in its sides. We
remained in sight of this island two days, and then only lost it in a fog.

January lO.-Early this morning we had the misfortune to lose a man overboard. He was
an American named Peter Vredenburgh, a native of New York, and was one of the most
valuable hands on board the schooner. In going over the bows his foot slipped, and he fell
between two cakes of ice, never rising again. At noon of this day we were in latitude 78
degrees 30', longitude 40 degrees 15' W. The cold was now excessive, and we had hail
squalls continually from the northward and eastward. In this direction also we saw
several more immense icebergs, and the whole horizon to the eastward appeared to be
blocked up with field ice, rising in tiers, one mass above the other. Some driftwood
floated by during the evening, and a great quantity of birds flew over, among which were
nellies, peterels, albatrosses, and a large bird of a brilliant blue plumage. The variation
here, per azimuth, was less than it had been previously to our passing the Antarctic circle.

January 12. -Our passage to the south again looked doubtful, as nothing was to be seen in
the direction of the pole but one apparently limitless floe, backed by absolute mountains
of ragged ice, one precipice of which arose frowningly above the other. We stood to the
westward until the fourteenth, in the hope of finding an entrance.

January 14. -This morning we reached the western extremity of the field which had
impeded us, and, weathering it, came to an open sea, without a particle of ice. Upon
sounding with two hundred fathoms, we here found a current setting southwardly at the
rate of half a mile per hour. The temperature of the air was forty- seven, that of the water
thirtyfour. We now sailed to the southward without meeting any interruption of moment
until the sixteenth, when, at noon, we were in latitude 81 degrees 21', longitude 42
degrees W. We here again sounded, and found a current setting still southwardly, and at
the rate of three quarters of a mile per hour. The variation per azimuth had diminished.

and the temperature of the air was mild and pleasant, the thermometer being as high as
fifty-one. At this period not a particle of ice was to be discovered. All hands on board
now felt certain of attaining the pole.

January 17. -This day was full of incident. Innumerable flights of birds flew over us from
the southward, and several were shot from the deck, one of them, a species of pelican,
proved to be excellent eating. About midday a small floe of ice was seen from the
masthead off the larboard bow, and upon it there appeared to be some large animal. As
the weather was good and nearly calm. Captain Guy ordered out two of the boats to see
what it was. Dirk Peters and myself accompanied the mate in the larger boat. Upon
coming up with the floe, we perceived that it was in the possession of a gigantic creature
of the race of the Arctic bear, but far exceeding in size the largest of these animals. Being
well armed, we made no scruple of attacking it at once. Several shots were fired in quick
succession, the most of which took effect, apparently, in the head and body. Nothing
discouraged, however, the monster threw himself from the ice, and swam with open jaws,
to the boat in which were Peters and myself. Owing to the confusion which ensued
among us at this unexpected turn of the adventure, no person was ready immediately with
a second shot, and the bear had actually succeeded in getting half his vast bulk across our
gunwale, and seizing one of the men by the small of his back, before any efficient means
were taken to repel him. In this extremity nothing but the promptness and agility of Peters
saved us from destruction. Leaping upon the back of the huge beast, he plunged the blade
of a knife behind the neck, reaching the spinal marrow at a blow. The brute tumbled into
the sea lifeless, and without a struggle, rolling over Peters as he fell. The latter soon
recovered himself, and a rope being thrown him, returned in triumph to the schooner,
towing our trophy behind us. This bear, upon admeasurement, proved to be full fifteen
feet in his greatest length. His wool was perfectly white, and very coarse, curling tightly.
The eyes were of a blood red, and larger than those of the Arctic bear, the snout also
more rounded, rather resembling the snout of the bulldog. The meat was tender, but
excessively rank and fishy, although the men devoured it with avidity, and declared it
excellent eating.

Scarcely had we got our prize alongside, when the man at the masthead gave the joyful
shout of "land on the starboard bow!" All hands were now upon the alert, and, a breeze
springing up very opportunely from the northward and eastward, we were soon close in
with the coast. It proved to be a low rocky islet, of about a league in circumference, and
altogether destitute of vegetation, if we except a species of prickly pear. In approaching it
from the northward, a singular ledge of rock is seen projecting into the sea, and bearing a
strong resemblance to corded bales of cotton. Around this ledge to the westward is a
small bay, at the bottom of which our boats effected a convenient landing.

It did not take us long to explore every portion of the island, but, with one exception, we
found nothing worthy of our observation. In the southern extremity, we picked up near
the shore, half buried in a pile of loose stones, a piece of wood, which seemed to have
formed the prow of a canoe. There had been evidently some attempt at carving upon it,
and Captain Guy fancied that he made out the figure of a tortoise, but the resemblance
did not strike me very forcibly. Besides this prow, if such it were, we found no other

token that any living creature had ever been here before. Around the coast we discovered
occasional small floes of ice-but these were very few. The exact situation of the islet (to
which Captain Guy gave the name of Bennet's Islet, in honour of his partner in the
ownership of the schooner) is 82 degrees 50' S. latitude, 42 degrees 20' W. longitude.

We had now advanced to the southward more than eight degrees farther than any
previous navigators, and the sea still lay perfectly open before us. We found, too, that the
variation uniformly decreased as we proceeded, and, what was still more surprising, that
the temperature of the air, and latterly of the water, became milder. The weather might
even be called pleasant, and we had a steady but very gentle breeze always from some
northern point of the compass. The sky was usually clear, with now and then a slight
appearance of thin vapour in the southern horizon-this, however, was invariably of brief
duration. Two difficulties alone presented themselves to our view; we were getting short
of fuel, and symptoms of scurvy had occurred among several of the crew. These
considerations began to impress upon Captain Guy the necessity of returning, and he
spoke of it frequently. For my own part, confident as I was of soon arriving at land of
some description upon the course we were pursuing, and having every reason to believe,
from present appearances, that we should not find it the sterile soil met with in the higher
Arctic latitudes, I warmly pressed upon him the expediency of persevering, at least for a
few days longer, in the direction we were now holding. So tempting an opportunity of
solving the great problem in regard to an Antarctic continent had never yet been afforded
to man, and I confess that I felt myself bursting with indignation at the timid and ill-timed
suggestions of our commander. I believe, indeed, that what I could not refrain from
saying to him on this head had the effect of inducing him to push on. While, therefore, I
cannot but lament the most unfortunate and bloody events which immediately arose from
my advice, I must still be allowed to feel some degree of gratification at having been
instrumental, however remotely, in opening to the eye of science one of the most
intensely exciting secrets which has ever engrossed its attention.

CHAPTER XVIII

January 18. -This morning* we continued to the southward, with the same pleasant
weather as before. The sea was entirely smooth, the air tolerably warm and from the
northeast, the temperature of the water fifty-three. We now again got our sounding-gear
in order, and, with a hundred and fifty fathoms of line, found the current setting toward
the pole at the rate of a mile an hour. This constant tendency to the southward, both in the
wind and current, caused some degree of speculation, and even of alarm, in different
quarters of the schooner, and I saw distinctly that no little impression had been made
upon the mind of Captain Guy. He was exceedingly sensitive to ridicule, however, and I
finally succeeded in laughing him out of his apprehensions. The variation was now very
trivial. In the course of the day we saw several large whales of the right species, and
innumerable flights of the albatross passed over the vessel. We also picked up a bush, full
of red berries, like those of the hawthorn, and the carcass of a singular- looking land-
animal. It was three feet in length, and but six inches in height, with four very short legs,
the feet armed with long claws of a brilliant scarlet, and resembling coral in substance.
The body was covered with a straight silky hair, perfectly white. The tail was peaked like

that of a rat, and about a foot and a half long. The head resembled a cat's, with the
exception of the ears-these were flopped like the ears of a dog. The teeth were of the
same brilliant scarlet as the claws.

* The terms morning and evening, which I have made use of to avoid confusion in my
narrative, as far as possible, must not, of course, be taken in their ordinary sense. For a
long time past we had had no night at all, the daylight being continual. The dates
throughout are according to nautical time, and the bearing must be understood as per
compass. I would also remark, in this place, that I cannot, in the first portion of what is
here written, pretend to strict accuracy in respect to dates, or latitudes and longitudes,
having kept no regular journal until after the period of which this first portion treats. In
many instances I have relied altogether upon memory.

January 19.-To-day, being in latitude 83 degrees 20', longitude 43 degrees 5' W. (the sea
being of an extraordinarily dark colour), we again saw land from the masthead, and, upon
a closer scrutiny, found it to be one of a group of very large islands. The shore was
precipitous, and the interior seemed to be well wooded, a circumstance which occasioned
us great joy. In about four hours from our first discovering the land we came to anchor in
ten fathoms, sandy bottom, a league from the coast, as a high surf, with strong ripples
here and there, rendered a nearer approach of doubtful expediency. The two largest boats
were now ordered out, and a party, well armed (among whom were Peters and myself),
proceeded to look for an opening in the reef which appeared to encircle the island. After
searching about for some time, we discovered an inlet, which we were entering, when we
saw four large canoes put off from the shore, filled with men who seemed to be well
armed. We waited for them to come up, and, as they moved with great rapidity, they were
soon within hail. Captain Guy now held up a white handkerchief on the blade of an oar,
when the strangers made a full stop, and commenced a loud jabbering all at once,
intermingled with occasional shouts, in which we could distinguish the words Anamoo-
moo! and Lama-Lama! They continued this for at least half an hour, during which we had
a good opportunity of observing their appearance.

In the four canoes, which might have been fifty feet long and five broad, there were a
hundred and ten savages in all. They were about the ordinary stature of Europeans, but of
a more muscular and brawny frame. Their complexion a jet black, with thick and long
woolly hair. They were clothed in skins of an unknown black animal, shaggy and silky,
and made to fit the body with some degree of skill, the hair being inside, except where
turned out about the neck, wrists, and ankles. Their arms consisted principally of clubs, of
a dark, and apparently very heavy wood. Some spears, however, were observed among
them, headed with flint, and a few slings. The bottoms of the canoes were full of black
stones about the size of a large egg.

When they had concluded their harangue (for it was clear they intended their jabbering
for such), one of them who seemed to be the chief stood up in the prow of his canoe, and
made signs for us to bring our boats alongside of him. This hint we pretended not to
understand, thinking it the wiser plan to maintain, if possible, the interval between us, as
their number more than quadrupled our own. Finding this to be the case, the chief ordered

the three other canoes to hold back, while he advanced toward us with his own. As soon
as he came up with us he leaped on board the largest of our boats, and seated himself by
the side of Captain Guy, pointing at the same time to the schooner, and repeating the
word Anamoo-moo! and Lama-Lama! We now put back to the vessel, the four canoes
following at a little distance.

Upon getting alongside, the chief evinced symptoms of extreme surprise and delight,
clapping his hands, slapping his thighs and breast, and laughing obstreperously. His
followers behind joined in his merriment, and for some minutes the din was so excessive
as to be absolutely deafening. Quiet being at length restored. Captain Guy ordered the
boats to be hoisted up, as a necessary precaution, and gave the chief (whose name we
soon found to be Too-wit) to understand that we could admit no more than twenty of his
men on deck at one time. With this arrangement he appeared perfectly satisfied, and gave
some directions to the canoes, when one of them approached, the rest remaining about
fifty yards off. Twenty of the savages now got on board, and proceeded to ramble over
every part of the deck, and scramble about among the rigging, making themselves much
at home, and examining every article with great inquisitiveness.

It was quite evident that they had never before seen any of the white race-from whose
complexion, indeed, they appeared to recoil. They believed the Jane to be a living
creature, and seemed to be afraid of hurting it with the points of their spears, carefully
turning them up. Our crew were much amused with the conduct of Too-wit in one
instance. The cook was splitting some wood near the galley, and, by accident, struck his
axe into the deck, making a gash of considerable depth. The chief immediately ran up,
and pushing the cook on one side rather roughly, commenced a half whine, half howl,
strongly indicative of sympathy in what he considered the sufferings of the schooner,
patting and smoothing the gash with his hand, and washing it from a bucket of seawater
which stood by. This was a degree of ignorance for which we were not prepared, and for
my part I could not help thinking some of it affected.

When the visitors had satisfied, as well as they could, their curiosity in regard to our
upper works, they were admitted below, when their amazement exceeded all bounds.
Their astonishment now appeared to be far too deep for words, for they roamed about in
silence, broken only by low ejaculations. The arms afforded them much food for
speculation, and they were suffered to handle and examine them at leisure. I do not
believe that they had the least suspicion of their actual use, but rather took them for idols,
seeing the care we had of them, and the attention with which we watched their
movements while handling them. At the great guns their wonder was redoubled. They
approached them with every mark of the profoundest reverence and awe, but forbore to
examine them minutely. There were two large mirrors in the cabin, and here was the
acme of their amazement. Too-wit was the first to approach them, and he had got in the
middle of the cabin, with his face to one and his back to the other, before he fairly
perceived them. Upon raising his eyes and seeing his reflected self in the glass, I thought
the savage would go mad; but, upon turning short round to make a retreat, and beholding
himself a second time in the opposite direction, I was afraid he would expire upon the
spot. No persuasion could prevail upon him to take another look; throwing himself upon

the floor, with his face buried in his hands, he remained thus until we were obliged to
drag him upon deck.

The whole of the savages were admitted on board in this manner, twenty at a time, Too-
wit being suffered to remain during the entire period. We saw no disposition to thievery
among them, nor did we miss a single article after their departure. Throughout the whole
of their visit they evinced the most friendly manner. There were, however, some points in
their demeanour which we found it impossible to understand; for example, we could not
get them to approach several very harmless objects-such as the schooner's sails, an egg,
an open book, or a pan of flour. We endeavoured to ascertain if they had among them any
articles which might be turned to account in the way of traffic, but found great difficulty
in being comprehended. We made out, nevertheless, what greatly astonished us, that the
islands abounded in the large tortoise of the Gallipagos, one of which we saw in the
canoe of Too-wit. We saw also some biche de mer in the hands of one of the savages,
who was greedily devouring it in its natural state. These anomalies-for they were such
when considered in regard to the latitude-induced Captain Guy to wish for a thorough
investigation of the country, in the hope of making a profitable speculation in his
discovery. For my own part, anxious as I was to know something more of these islands, I
was still more earnestly bent on prosecuting the voyage to the southward without delay.
We had now fine weather, but there was no telling how long it would last; and being
already in the eighty-fourth parallel, with an open sea before us, a current setting strongly
to the southward, and the wind fair, I could not listen with any patience to a proposition
of stopping longer than was absolutely necessary for the health of the crew and the taking
on board a proper supply of fuel and fresh provisions. I represented to the captain that we
might easily make this group on our return, and winter here in the event of being blocked
up by the ice. He at length came into my views (for in some way, hardly known to
myself, I had acquired much influence over him), and it was finally resolved that, even in
the event of our finding biche de mer, we should only stay here a week to recruit, and
then push on to the southward while we might. Accordingly we made every necessary
preparation, and, under the guidance of Too-wit, got the Jane through the reef in safety,
coming to anchor about a mile from the shore, in an excellent bay, completely
landlocked, on the southeastern coast of the main island, and in ten fathoms of water,
black sandy bottom. At the head of this bay there were three fine springs (we were told)
of good water, and we saw abundance of wood in the vicinity. The four canoes followed
us in, keeping, however, at a respectful distance. Too-wit himself remained on board,
and, upon our dropping anchor, invited us to accompany him on shore, and visit his
village in the interior. To this Captain Guy consented; and ten savages being left on board
as hostages, a party of us, twelve in all, got in readiness to attend the chief. We took care
to be well armed, yet without evincing any distrust. The schooner had her guns run out,
her boarding-nettings up, and every other proper precaution was taken to guard against
surprise. Directions were left with the chief mate to admit no person on board during our
absence, and, in the event of our not appearing in twelve hours, to send the cutter, with a
swivel, around the island in search of us.

At every step we took inland the conviction forced itself upon us that we were in a
country differing essentially from any hitherto visited by civilized men. We saw nothing

with which we had been formerly conversant. The trees resembled no growth of either
the torrid, the temperate, of the northern frigid zones, and were altogether unlike those of
the lower southern latitudes we had already traversed. The very rocks were novel in their
mass, their color, and their stratification; and the streams themselves, utterly incredible as
it may appear, had so little in common with those of other climates, that we were
scrupulous of tasting them, and, indeed, had difficulty in bringing ourselves to believe
that their qualities were purely those of nature. At a small brook which crossed our path
(the first we had reached) Too-wit and his attendants halted to drink. On account of the
singular character of the water, we refused to taste it, supposing it to be polluted; and it
was not until some time afterward we came to understand that such was the appearance
of the streams throughout the whole group. I am at a loss to give a distinct idea of the
nature of this liquid, and cannot do so without many words. Although it flowed with
rapidity in all declivities where common water would do so, yet never, except when
falling in a cascade, had it the customary appearance of limpidity. It was, nevertheless, in
point of fact, as perfectly limpid as any limestone water in existence, the difference being
only in appearance. At first sight, and especially in cases where little declivity was found,
it bore re. semblance, as regards consistency, to a thick infusion of gum arable in
common water. But this was only the least remarkable of its extraordinary qualities. It
was not colourless, nor was it of any one uniform colour-presenting to the eye, as it
flowed, every possible shade of purple; like the hues of a changeable silk. This variation
in shade was produced in a manner which excited as profound astonishment in the minds
of our party as the mirror had done in the case of Too-wit. Upon collecting a basinful,
and allowing it to settle thoroughly, we perceived that the whole mass of liquid was made
up of a number of distinct veins, each of a distinct hue; that these veins did not
commingle; and that their cohesion was perfect in regard to their own particles among
themselves, and imperfect in regard to neighbouring veins. Upon passing the blade of a
knife athwart the veins, the water closed over it immediately, as with us, and also, in
withdrawing it, all traces of the passage of the knife were instantly obliterated. If,
however, the blade was passed down accurately between the two veins, a perfect
separation was effected, which the power of cohesion did not immediately rectify. The
phenomena of this water formed the first definite link in that vast chain of apparent
miracles with which I was destined to be at length encircled.

CHAPTER XIX

We were nearly three hours in reaching the village, it being more than nine miles in the
interior, and the path lying through a rugged country. As we passed along, the party of
Too-wit (the whole hundred and ten savages of the canoes) was momentarily
strengthened by smaller detachments, of from two to six or seven, which joined us, as if
by accident, at different turns of the road. There appeared so much of system in this that I
could not help feeling distrust, and I spoke to Captain Guy of my apprehensions. It was
now too late, however, to recede, and we concluded that our best security lay in evincing
a perfect confidence in the good faith of Too-wit. We accordingly went on, keeping a
wary eye upon the manoeuvres of the savages, and not permitting them to divide our
numbers by pushing in between. In this way, passing through a precipitous ravine, we at
length reached what we were told was the only collection of habitations upon the island.

As we came in sight of them, the chief set up a shout, and frequently repeated the word
Klock-klock, which we sup. posed to be the name of the village, or perhaps the generic
name for villages.

The dwellings were of the most miserable description imaginable, and, unlike those of
even the lowest of the savage races with which mankind are acquainted, were of no
uniform plan. Some of them (and these we found belonged to the Wampoos or Yampoos,
the great men of the land) consisted of a tree cut down at about four feet from the root,
with a large black skin thrown over it, and hanging in loose folds upon the ground. Under
this the savage nestled. Others were formed by means of rough limbs of trees, with the
withered foliage upon them, made to recline, at an angle of forty-five degrees, against a
bank of clay, heaped up, without regular form, to the height of five or six feet. Others,
again, were mere holes dug in the earth perpendicularly, and covered over with similar
branches, these being removed when the tenant was about to enter, and pulled on again
when he had entered. A few were built among the forked limbs of trees as they stood, the
upper limbs being partially cut through, so as to bend over upon the lower, thus forming
thicker shelter from the weather. The greater number, however, consisted of small
shallow caverns, apparently scratched in the face of a precipitous ledge of dark stone,
resembling fuller's earth, with which three sides of the village were bounded. At the door
of each of these primitive caverns was a small rock, which the tenant carefully placed
before the entrance upon leaving his residence, for what purpose I could not ascertain, as
the stone itself was never of sufficient size to close up more than a third of the opening.

This village, if it were worthy of the name, lay in a valley of some depth, and could only
be approached from the southward, the precipitous ledge of which I have already spoken
cutting off all access in other directions. Through the middle of the valley ran a brawling
stream of the same magical-looking water which has been described. We saw several
strange animals about the dwellings, all appearing to be thoroughly domesticated. The
largest of these creatures resembled our common hog in the structure of the body and
snout; the tail, however, was bushy, and the legs slender as those of the antelope. Its
motion was exceedingly awkward and indecisive, and we never saw it attempt to run. We
noticed also several animals very similar in appearance, but of a greater length of body,
and covered with a black wool. There were a great variety of tame fowls running about,
and these seemed to constitute the chief food of the natives. To our astonishment we saw
black albatross among these birds in a state of entire domestication, going to sea
periodically for food, but always returning to the village as a home, and using the
southern shore in the vicinity as a place of incubation. There they were joined by their
friends the pelicans as usual, but these latter never followed them to the dwellings of the
savages. Among the other kinds of tame fowls were ducks, differing very little from the
canvass-back of our own country, black gannets, and a large bird not unlike the buzzard
in appearance, but not carnivorous. Of fish there seemed to be a great abundance. We
saw, during our visit, a quantity of dried salmon, rock cod, blue dolphins, mackerel,
blackfish, skate, conger eels, elephantfish, mullets, soles, parrotfish, leather-jackets,
gurnards, hake, flounders, paracutas, and innumerable other varieties. We noticed, too,
that most of them were similar to the fish about the group of Lord Auckland Islands, in a
latitude as low as fifty-one degrees south. The Gallipago tortoise was also very plentiful.

We saw but few wild animals, and none of a large size, or of a species with which we
were familiar. One or two serpents of a formidable aspect crossed our path, but the
natives paid them little attention, and we concluded that they were not venomous.

As we approached the village with Too-wit and his party, a vast crowd of the people
rushed out to meet us, with loud shouts, among which we could only distinguish the
everlasting Anamoo-moo! and Lama-Lama! We were much surprised at perceiving that,
with one or two exceptions, these new comers were entirely naked, and skins being used
only by the men of the canoes. All the weapons of the country seemed also to be in the
possession of the latter, for there was no appearance of any among the villagers. There
were a great many women and children, the former not altogether wanting in what might
be termed personal beauty. They were straight, tall, and well formed, with a grace and
freedom of carriage not to be found in civilized society. Their lips, however, like those of
the men, were thick and clumsy, so that, even when laughing, the teeth were never
disclosed. Their hair was of a finer texture than that of the males. Among these naked
villagers there might have been ten or twelve who were clothed, like the party of Too-wit,
in dresses of black skin, and armed with lances and heavy clubs. These appeared to have
great influence among the rest, and were always addressed by the title Wampoo. These,
too, were the tenants of the black skin palaces. That of Too-wit was situated in the centre
of the village, and was much larger and somewhat better constructed than others of its
kind. The tree which formed its support was cut off at a distance of twelve feet or
thereabouts from the root, and there were several branches left just below the cut, these
serving to extend the covering, and in this way prevent its flapping about the trunk. The
covering, too, which consisted of four very large skins fastened together with wooden
skewers, was secured at the bottom with pegs driven through it and into the ground. The
floor was strewed with a quantity of dry leaves by way of carpet.

To this hut we were conducted with great solemnity, and as many of the natives crowded
in after us as possible. Too-wit seated himself on the leaves, and made signs that we
should follow his example. This we did, and presently found ourselves in a situation
peculiarly uncomfortable, if not indeed critical. We were on the ground, twelve in
number, with the savages, as many as forty, sitting on their hams so closely around us
that, if any disturbance had arisen, we should have found it impossible to make use of our
arms, or indeed to have risen to our feet. The pressure was not only inside the tent, but
outside, where probably was every individual on the whole island, the crowd being
prevented from trampling us to death only by the incessant exertions and vociferations of
Too-wit. Our chief security lay, however, in the presence of Too-wit himself among us,
and we resolved to stick by him closely, as the best chance of extricating ourselves from
the dilemma, sacrificing him immediately upon the first appearance of hostile design.

After some trouble a certain degree of quiet was restored, when the chief addressed us in
a speech of great length, and very nearly resembling the one delivered in the canoes, with
the exception that the Anamoo-moos! were now somewhat more strenuously insisted
upon than the Lama- Lamas! We listened in profound silence until the conclusion of this
harangue, when Captain Guy replied by assuring the chief of his eternal friendship and
goodwill, concluding what he had to say be a present of several strings of blue beads and

a knife. At the former the monarch, much to our surprise, turned up his nose with some
expression of contempt, but the knife gave him the most unlimited satisfaction, and he
immediately ordered dinner. This was handed into the tent over the heads of the
attendants, and consisted of the palpitating entrails of a specials of unknown animal,
probably one of the slim-legged hogs which we had observed in our approach to the
village. Seeing us at a loss how to proceed, he began, by way of setting us an example, to
devour yard after yard of the enticing food, until we could positively stand it no longer,
and evinced such manifest symptoms of rebellion of stomach as inspired his majesty with
a degree of astonishment only inferior to that brought about by the looking-glasses. We
declined, however, partaking of the delicacies before us, and endeavoured to make him
understand that we had no appetite whatever, having just finished a hearty dejeuner.

When the monarch had made an end of his meal, we commenced a series of cross-
questioning in every ingenious manner we could devise, with a view of discovering what
were the chief productions of the country, and whether any of them might be turned to
profit. At length he seemed to have some idea of our meaning, and offered to accompany
us to a part of coast where he assured us the biche de mer (pointing to a specimen of that
animal) was to be found in great abundance. We were glad of this early opportunity of
escaping from the oppression of the crowd, and signified our eagerness to proceed. We
now left the tent, and, accompanied by the whole population of the village, followed the
chief to the southeastern extremity of the island, nor far from the bay where our vessel
lay at anchor. We waited here for about an hour, until the four canoes were brought
around by some of the savages to our station, the whole of our party then getting into one
of them, we were paddled along the edge of the reef before mentioned, and of another
still farther out, where we saw a far greater quantity of biche de mer than the oldest
seamen among us had ever seen in those groups of the lower latitudes most celebrated for
this article of commerce. We stayed near these reefs only long enough to satisfy
ourselves that we could easily load a dozen vessels with the animal if necessary, when we
were taken alongside the schooner, and parted with Too-wit, after obtaining from him a
promise that he would bring us, in the course of twenty-four hours, as many of the
canvass-back ducks and Gallipago tortoises as his canoes would hold. In the whole of this
adventure we saw nothing in the demeanour of the natives calculated to create suspicion,
with the single exception of the systematic manner in which their party was strengthened
during our route from the schooner to the village.

CHAPTER XX

The chief was as good as his word, and we were soon plentifully sup. plied with fresh
provisions. We found the tortoises as fine as we had ever seen, and the ducks surpassed
our best species of wild fowl, being exceedingly tender, juicy, and well-flavoured.
Besides these, the savages brought us, upon our making them comprehend our wishes, a
vast quantity of brown celery and scurvy grass, with a canoe-load of fresh fish and some
dried. The celery was a treat indeed, and the scurvy grass proved of incalculable benefit
in restoring those of our men who had shown symptoms of disease. In a very short time
we had not a single person on the sick-list. We had also plenty of other kinds of fresh
provisions, among which may be mentioned a species of shellfish resembling the mussel

in shape, but with the taste of an oyster. Shrimps, too, and prawns were abundant, and
albatross and other birds' eggs with dark shells. We took in, too, a plentiful stock of the
flesh of the hog which I have mentioned before. Most of the men found it a palpatable
food, but I thought it fishy and otherwise disagreeable. In return for these good things we
presented the natives with blue beads, brass trinkets, nails, knives, and pieces of red
cloth, they being fully delighted in the exchange. We established a regular market on
shore, just under the guns of the schooner, where our barterings were carried on with
every appearance of good faith, and a degree of order which their conduct at the village
of Klock-klock had not led us to expect from the savages.

Matters went on thus very amicably for several days, during which parties of the natives
were frequently on board the schooner, and parties of our men frequently on shore,
making long excursions into the interior, and receiving no molestation whatever. Finding
the ease with which the vessel might be loaded with biche de mer, owing to the friendly
disposition of the islanders, and the readiness with which they would render us assistance
in collecting it. Captain Guy resolved to enter into negotiations with Too-wit for the
erection of suitable houses in which to cure the article, and for the services of himself and
tribe in gathering as much as possible, while he himself took advantage of the fine
weather to prosecute his voyage to the southward. Upon mentioning this project to the
chief he seemed very willing to enter into an agreement. A bargain was accordingly
struck, perfectly satisfactory to both parties, by which it was arranged that, after making
the necessary preparations, such as laying off the proper grounds, erecting a portion of
the buildings, and doing some other work in which the whole of our crew would be
required, the schooner should proceed on her route, leaving three of her men on the island
to superintend the fulfilment of the project, and instruct the natives in drying the biche de
mer. In regard to terms, these were made to depend upon the exertions of the savages in
our absence. They were to receive a stipulated quantity of blue beads, knives, red cloth,
and so forth, for every certain number of piculs of the biche de mer which should be
ready on our return.

A description of the nature of this important article of commerce, and the method of
preparing it, may prove of some interest to my readers, and I can find no more suitable
place than this for introducing an account of it. The following comprehensive notice of
the substance is taken from a modern history of a voyage to the South Seas.

"It is that moUusca from the Indian Seas which is known to commerce by the French
name bouche de mer (a nice morsel from the sea). If I am not much mistaken, the
celebrated Cuvier calls it gasteropeda pulmonifera. It is abundantly gathered in the coasts
of the Pacific islands, and gathered especially for the Chinese market, where it commands
a great price, perhaps as much as their much-talked-of edible birds' nests, which are
properly made up of the gelatinous matter picked up by a species of swallow from the
body of these moUuscae. They have no shell, no legs, nor any prominent part, except an
absorbing and an excretory, opposite organs; but, by their elastic wings, hke caterpillars
or worms, they creep in shallow waters, in which, when low, they can be seen by a kind
of swallow, the sharp bill of which, inserted in the soft animal, draws a gummy and

filamentous substance, which, by drying, can be wrought into the solid walls of their nest.
Hence the name of gasteropeda pulmonifera.

"This moUusca is oblong, and of different sizes, from three to eighteen inches in length;
and I have seen a few that were not less than two feet long. They were nearly round, a
little flattish on one side, which lies next to the bottom of the sea; and they are from one
to eight inches thick. They crawl up into shallow water at particular seasons of the year,
probably for the purpose of gendering, as we often find them in pairs. It is when the sun
has the most power on the water, rendering it tepid, that they approach the shore; and
they often go up into places so shallow that, on the tide's receding, they are left dry,
exposed to the beat of the sun. But they do not bring forth their young in shallow water,
as we never see any of their progeny, and full-grown ones are always observed coming in
from deep water. They feed principally on that class of zoophytes which produce the
coral.

"The biche de mer is generally taken in three or four feet of water; after which they are
brought on shore, and split at one end with a knife, the incision being one inch or more,
according to the size of the moUusca. Through this opening the entrails are forced out by
pressure, and they are much like those of any other small tenant of the deep. The article is
then washed, and afterward boiled to a certain degree, which must not be too much or too
little. They are then buried in the ground for four hours, then boiled again for a short
time, after which they are dried, either by the fire or the sun. Those cured by the sun are
worth the most; but where one picul (133 1/3 lbs.) can be cured that way, I can cure thirty
piculs by the fire. When once properly cured, they can be kept in a dry place for two or
three years without any risk; but they should be examined once in every few months, say
four times a year, to see if any dampness is likely to affect them.

"The Chinese, as before stated, consider biche de mer a very great luxury, believing that
it wonderfully strengthens and nourishes the system, and renews the exhausted system of
the immoderate voluptuary. The first quality commands a high price in Canton, being
worth ninety dollars a picul; the second quality, seventy-five dollars; the third, fifty
dollars; the fourth, thirty dollars; the fifth, twenty dollars; the sixth, twelve dollars; the
seventh, eight dollars; and the eighth, four dollars; small cargoes, however, will often
bring more in Manilla, Singapore, and Batavia."

An agreement having been thus entered into, we proceeded immediately to land
everything necessary for preparing the buildings and clearing the ground. A large flat
space near the eastern shore of the bay was selected, where there was plenty of both
wood and water, and within a convenient distance of the principal reefs on which the
biche de mer was to be procured. We now all set to work in good earnest, and soon, to the
great astonishment of the savages, had felled a sufficient number of trees for our purpose,
getting them quickly in order for the framework of the houses, which in two or three days
were so far under way that we could safely trust the rest of the work to the three men
whom we intended to leave behind. These I believe), who volunteered their services in
this respect.

By the last of the month we had everything in readiness for departure. We had agreed,
however, to pay a formal visit of leave-taking to the village, and Too-wit insisted so
pertinaciously upon our keeping the promise that we did not think it advisable to run the
risk of offending him by a final refusal. I believe that not one of us had at this time the
slightest suspicion of the good faith of the savages. They had uniformly behaved with the
greatest decorum, aiding us with alacrity in our work, offering us their commodities,
frequently without price, and never, in any instance, pilfering a single article, although
the high value they set upon the goods we had with us was evident by the extravagant
demonstrations of joy always manifested upon our making them a present. The women
especially were most obliging in every respect, and, upon the whole, we should have
been the most suspicious of human beings had we entertained a single thought of perfidy
on the part of a people who treated us so well. A very short while sufficed to prove that
this apparent kindness of disposition was only the result of a deeply laid plan for our
destruction, and that the islanders for whom we entertained such inordinate feelings of
esteem, were among the most barbarous, subtle, and bloodthirsty wretches that ever
contaminated the face of the globe.

It was on the first of February that we went on shore for the purpose of visiting the
village. Although, as said before, we entertained not the slightest suspicion, still no
proper precaution was neglected. Six men were left in the schooner, with instructions to
permit none of the savages to approach the vessel during our absence, under any pretence
whatever, and to remain constantly on deck. The boarding-nettings were up, the guns
double-shotted with grape and canister, and the swivels loaded with canisters of musket-
balls. She lay, with her anchor apeak, about a mile from the shore, and no canoe could
approach her in any direction without being distinctly seen and exposed to the full fire of
our swivels immediately.

The six men being left on board, our shore-party consisted of thirty, two persons in all.
We were armed to the teeth, having with us muskets, pistols, and cutlasses; besides, each
had a long kind of seaman's knife, somewhat resembling the bowie knife now so much
used throughout our western and southern country. A hundred of the black skin warriors
met us at the landing for the purpose of accompanying us on our way. We noticed,
however, with some surprise, that they were now entirely without arms; and, upon
questioning Too-wit in relation to this circumstance, he merely answered that Mattee non
we pa pa si-meaning that there was no need of arms where all were brothers. We took
this in good part, and proceeded.

We had passed the spring and rivulet of which I before spoke, and were now entering
upon a narrow gorge leading through the chain of soapstone hills among which the
village was situated. This gorge was very rocky and uneven, so much so that it was with
no little difficulty we scrambled through it on our first visit to Klock-klock. The whole
length of the ravine might have been a mile and a half, or probably two miles. It wound in
every possible direction through the hills (having apparently formed, at some remote
period, the bed of a torrent), in no instance proceeding more than twenty yards without an
abrupt turn. The sides of this dell would have averaged, I am sure, seventy or eighty feet
in perpendicular altitude throughout the whole of their extent, and in some portions they

arose to an astonishing height, overshadowing the pass so completely that but little of the
light of day could penetrate. The general width was about forty feet, and occasionally it
diminished so as not to allow the passage of more than five or six persons abreast. In
short, there could be no place in the world better adapted for the consummation of an
ambuscade, and it was no more than natural that we should look carefully to our arms as
we entered upon it. When I now think of our egregious folly, the chief subject of
astonishment seems to be, that we should have ever ventured, under any circumstances,
so completely into the power of unknown savages as to permit them to march both before
and behind us in our progress through this ravine. Yet such was the order we blindly took
up, trusting foolishly to the force of our party, the unarmed condition of Too-wit and his
men, the certain efficacy of our firearms (whose effect was yet a secret to the natives),
and, more than all, to the long- sustained pretension of friendship kept up by these
infamous wretches. Five or six of them went on before, as if to lead the way,
ostentatiously busying themselves in removing the larger stones and rubbish from the
path. Next came our own party. We walked closely together, taking care only to prevent
separation. Behind followed the main body of the savages, observing unusual order and
decorum.

Dirk Peters, a man named Wilson Allan, and myself were on the right of our companions,
examining, as we went along, the singular stratification of the precipice which overhung
us. A fissure in the soft rock attracted our attention. It was about wide enough for one
person to enter without squeezing, and extended back into the hill some eighteen or
twenty feet in a straight course, sloping afterward to the left. The height of the opening, is
far as we could see into it from the main gorge, was perhaps sixty or seventy feet. There
were one or two stunted shrubs growing from the crevices, bearing a species of filbert
which I felt some curiosity to examine, and pushed in briskly for that purpose, gathering
five or six of the nuts at a grasp, and then hastily retreating. As I turned, I found that
Peters and Allan had followed me. I desired them to go back, as there was not room for
two persons to pass, saying they should have some of my nuts. They accordingly turned,
and were scrambling back, Allan being close to the mouth of the fissure, when I was
suddenly aware of a concussion resembling nothing I had ever before experienced, and
which impressed me with a vague conception, if indeed I then thought of anything, that
the whole foundations of the solid globe were suddenly rent asunder, and that the day of
universal dissolution was at hand.

CHAPTER XXI

As soon as I could collect my scattered senses, I found myself nearly suffocated, and
grovelling in utter darkness among a quantity of loose earth, which was also falling upon
me heavily in every direction, threatening to bury me entirely. Horribly alarmed at this
idea, I struggled to gain my feet, and at last succeeded. I then remained motionless for
some moments, endeavouring to conceive what had happened to me, and where I was.
Presently I heard a deep groan just at my ear, and afterward the smothered voice of Peters
calling to me for aid in the name of God. I scrambled one or two paces forward, when I
fell directly over the head and shoulders of my companion, who, I soon discovered, was
buried in a loose mass of earth as far as his middle, and struggling desperately to free

himself from the pressure. I tore the dirt from around him with all the energy I could
command, and at length succeeded in getting him out.

As soon as we sufficiently recovered from our fright and surprise to be capable of
conversing rationally, we both came to the conclusion that the walls of the fissure in
which we had ventured had, by some convulsion of nature, or probably from their own
weight, caved in overhead, and that we were consequently lost for ever, being thus
entombed alive. For a long time we gave up supinely to the most intense agony and
despair, such as cannot be adequately imagined by those who have never been in a
similar position. I firmly believed that no incident ever occurring in the course of human
events is more adapted to inspire the supremeness of mental and bodily distress than a
case like our own, of living inhumation. The blackness of darkness which envelops the
victim, the terrific oppression of lungs, the stifling fumes from the damp earth, unite with
the ghastly considerations that we are beyond the remotest confines of hope, and that
such is the allotted portion of the dead, to carry into the human heart a degree of
appalling awe and horror not to be tolerated-never to be conceived.

At length Peters proposed that we should endeavour to ascertain precisely the extent of
our calamity, and grope about our prison; it being barely possible, he observed, that some
opening might yet be left us for escape. I caught eagerly at this hope, and, arousing
myself to exertion, attempted to force my way through the loose earth. Hardly had I
advanced a single step before a glimmer of light became perceptible, enough to convince
me that, at all events, we should not immediately perish for want of air. We now took
some degree of heart, and encouraged each other to hope for the best. Having scrambled
over a bank of rubbish which impeded our farther progress in the direction of the light,
we found less difficulty in advancing and also experienced some relief from the excessive
oppression of lungs which had tormented us. Presently we were enabled to obtain a
glimpse of the objects around, and discovered that we were near the extremity of the
straight portion of the fissure, where it made a turn to the left. A few struggles more, and
we reached the bend, when to our inexpressible joy, there appeared a long seam or crack
extending upward a vast distance, generally at an angle of about forty-five degrees,
although sometimes much more precipitous. We could not see through the whole extent
of this opening; but, as a good deal of light came down it, we had little doubt of finding at
the top of it (if we could by any means reach the top) a clear passage into the open air.

I now called to mind that three of us had entered the fissure from the main gorge, and that
our companion, Allan, was still missing; we determined at once to retrace our steps and
look for him. After a long search, and much danger from the farther caving in of the earth
above us, Peters at length cried out to me that he had hold of our companion's foot, and
that his whole body was deeply buried beneath the rubbish beyond the possibility of
extricating him. I soon found that what he said was too true, and that, of course, life had
been long extinct. With sorrowful hearts, therefore, we left the corpse to its fate, and
again made our way to the bend.

The breadth of the seam was barely sufficient to admit us, and, after one or two
ineffectual efforts at getting up, we began once more to despair. I have before said that

the chain of hills through which ran the main gorge was composed of a species of soft
rock resembling soap, stone. The sides of the cleft we were now attempting to ascend
were of the same material, and so excessively slippery, being wet, that we could get but
little foothold upon them even in their least precipitous parts; in some places, where the
ascent was nearly perpendicular, the difficulty was, of course, much aggravated; and,
indeed, for some time we thought insurmountable. We took courage, however, from
despair, and what, by dint of cutting steps in the soft stone with our bowie knives, and
swinging at the risk of our lives, to small projecting points of a harder species of slaty
rock which now and then protruded from the general mass, we at length reached a natural
platform, from which was perceptible a patch of blue sky, at the extremity of a thickly-
wooded ravine. Looking back now, with somewhat more leisure, at the passage through
which we had thus far proceeded, we clearly saw from the appearance of its sides, that it
was of late formation, and we concluded that the concussion, whatever it was, which had
so unexpectedly overwhelmed us, had also, at the same moment, laid open this path for
escape. Being quite exhausted with exertion, and indeed, so weak that we were scarcely
able to stand or articulate, Peters now proposed that we should endeavour to bring our
companions to the rescue by firing the pistols which still remained in our girdles-the
muskets as well as cutlasses had been lost among the loose earth at the bottom of the
chasm. Subsequent events proved that, had we fired, we should have sorely repented it,
but luckily a half suspicion of foul play had by this time arisen in my mind, and we
forbore to let the savages know of our whereabouts.

After having reposed for about an hour, we pushed on slowly up the ravine, and had gone
no great way before we heard a succession of tremendous yells. At length we reached
what might be called the surface of the ground; for our path hitherto, since leaving the
platform, had lain beneath an archway of high rock and foliage, at a vast distance
overhead. With great caution we stole to a narrow opening, through which we had a clear
sight of the surrounding country, when the whole dreadful secret of the concussion broke
upon us in one moment and at one view.

The spot from which we looked was not far from the summit of the highest peak in the
range of the soapstone hills. The gorge in which our party of thirty-two had entered ran
within fifty feet to the left of us. But, for at least one hundred yards, the channel or bed of
this gorge was entirely filled up with the chaotic ruins of more than a million tons of
earth and stone that had been artificially tumbled within it. The means by which the vast
mass had been precipitated were not more simple than evident, for sure traces of the
murderous work were yet remaining. In several spots along the top of the eastern side of
the gorge (we were now on the western) might be seen stakes of wood driven into the
earth. In these spots the earth had not given way, but throughout the whole extent of the
face of the precipice from which the mass had f Allan, it was clear, from marks left in the
soil resembling those made by the drill of the rock blaster, that stakes similar to those we
saw standing had been inserted, at not more than a yard apart, for the length of perhaps
three hundred feet, and ranging at about ten feet back from the edge of the gulf. Strong
cords of grape vine were attached to the stakes still remaining on the hill, and it was
evident that such cords had also been attached to each of the other stakes. I have already
spoken of the singular stratification of these soapstone hills; and the description just

given of the narrow and deep fissure through which we effected our escape from
inhumation will afford a further conception of its nature. This was such that almost every
natural convulsion would be sure to split the soil into perpendicular layers or ridges
running parallel with one another, and a very moderate exertion of art would be sufficient
for effecting the same purpose. Of this stratification the savages had availed themselves
to accomplish their treacherous ends. There can be no doubt that, by the continuous line
of stakes, a partial rupture of the soil had been brought about probably to the depth of one
or two feet, when by means of a savage pulling at the end of each of the cords (these
cords being attached to the tops of the stakes, and extending back from the edge of the
cliff), a vast leverage power was obtained, capable of hurling the whole face of the hill,
upon a given signal, into the bosom of the abyss below. The fate of our poor companions
was no longer a matter of uncertainty. We alone had escaped from the tempest of that
overwhelming destruction. We were the only living white men upon the island.

CHAPTER XXII

Our situation, as it now appeared, was scarcely less dreadful than when we had conceived
ourselves entombed forever. We saw before us no prospect but that of being put to death
by the savages, or of dragging out a miserable existence in captivity among them. We
might, to be sure, conceal ourselves for a time from their observation among the
fastnesses of the hills, and, as a final resort, in the chasm from which we had just issued;
but we must either perish in the long polar winter through cold and famine, or be
ultimately discovered in our efforts to obtain relief.

The whole country around us seemed to be swarming with savages, crowds of whom, we
now perceived, had come over from the islands to the southward on flat rafts, doubtless
with a view of lending their aid in the capture and plunder of the Jane. The vessel still lay
calmly at anchor in the bay, those on board being apparently quite unconscious of any
danger awaiting them. How we longed at that moment to be with them! either to aid in
effecting their escape, or to perish with them in attempting a defence. We saw no chance
even of warning them of their danger without bringing immediate destruction upon our
own heads, with but a remote hope of benefit to them. A pistol fired might suffice to
apprise them that something wrong had occurred; but the report could not possibly
inform them that their only prospect of safety lay in getting out of the harbour forthwith-
nor tell them no principles of honour now bound them to remain, that their companions
were no longer among the living. Upon hearing the discharge they could not be more
thoroughly prepared to meet the foe, who were now getting ready to attack, than they
already were, and always had been. No good, therefore, and infinite harm, would result
from our firing, and after mature deliberation, we forbore.

Our next thought was to attempt to rush toward the vessel, to seize one of the four canoes
which lay at the head of the bay, and endeavour to force a passage on board. But the utter
impossibility of succeeding in this desperate task soon became evident. The country, as I
said before, was literally swarming with the natives, skulking among the bushes and
recesses of the hills, so as not to be observed from the schooner. In our immediate
vicinity especially, and blockading the sole path by which we could hope to attain the

shore at the proper point were stationed the whole party of the black skin warriors, with
Too-wit at their head, and apparently only waiting for some re-enforcement to commence
his onset upon the Jane. The canoes, too, which lay at the head of the bay, were manned
with savages, unarmed, it is true, but who undoubtedly had arms within reach. We were
forced, therefore, however unwillingly, to remain in our place of concealment, mere
spectators of the conflict which presently ensued.

In about half an hour we saw some sixty or seventy rafts, or flatboats, with outriggers,
filled with savages, and coming round the southern bight of the harbor. They appeared to
have no arms except short clubs, and stones which lay in the bottom of the rafts.
Immediately afterward another detachment, still larger, appeared in an opposite direction,
and with similar weapons. The four canoes, too, were now quickly filled with natives,
starting up from the bushes at the head of the bay, and put off swiftly to join the other
parties. Thus, in less time than I have taken to tell it, and as if by magic, the Jane saw
herself surrounded by an immense multitude of desperadoes evidently bent upon
capturing her at all hazards.

That they would succeed in so doing could not be doubted for an instant. The six men left
in the vessel, however resolutely they might engage in her defence, were altogether
unequal to the proper management of the guns, or in any manner to sustain a contest at
such odds. I could hardly imagine that they would make resistance at all, but in this was
deceived; for presently I saw them get springs upon the cable, and bring the vessel's
starboard broadside to bear upon the canoes, which by this time were within pistol range,
the rafts being nearly a quarter of a mile to windward. Owing to some cause unknown,
but most probably to the agitation of our poor friends at seeing themselves in so hopeless
a situation, the discharge was an entire failure. Not a canoe was hit or a single savage
injured, the shots striking short and ricocheting over their heads. The only effect
produced upon them was astonishment at the unexpected report and smoke, which was so
excessive that for some moments I almost thought they would abandon their design
entirely, and return to the shore. And this they would most likely have done had our men
followed up their broadside by a discharge of small arms, in which, as the canoes were
now so near at hand, they could not have failed in doing some execution, sufficient, at
least, to deter this party from a farther advance, until they could have given the rafts also
a broadside. But, in place of this, they left the canoe party to recover from their panic,
and, by looking about them, to see that no injury had been sustained, while they flew to
the larboard to get ready for the rafts.

The discharge to larboard produced the most terrible effect. The star and double-headed
shot of the large guns cut seven or eight of the rafts completely asunder, and killed,
perhaps, thirty or forty of the savages outright, while a hundred of them, at least, were
thrown into the water, the most of them dreadfully wounded. The remainder, frightened
out of their senses, commenced at once a precipitate retreat, not even waiting to pick up
their maimed companions, who were swimming about in every direction, screaming and
yelling for aid. This great success, however, came too late for the salvation of our
devoted people. The canoe party were already on board the schooner to the number of
more than a hundred and fifty, the most of them having succeeded in scrambling up the

chains and over the boarding-netting even before the matches had been applied to the
larboard guns. Nothing now could withstand their brute rage. Our men were borne down
at once, overwhelmed, trodden under foot, and absolutely torn to pieces in an instant.

Seeing this, the savages on the rafts got the better of their fears, and came up in shoals to
the plunder. In five minutes the Jane was a pitiable scene indeed of havoc and tumultuous
outrage. The decks were split open and ripped up; the cordage, sails, and everything
movable on deck demolished as if by magic, while, by dint of pushing at the stern,
towing with the canoes, and hauling at the sides, as they swam in thousands around the
vessel, the wretches finally forced her on shore (the cable having been slipped), and
delivered her over to the good offices of Too-wit, who, during the whole of the
engagement, had maintained, like a skilful general, his post of security and
reconnaissance among the hills, but, now that the victory was completed to his
satisfaction, condescended to scamper down with his warriors of the black skin, and
become a partaker in the spoils.

Too-wit's descent left us at liberty to quit our hiding place and reconnoitre the hill in the
vicinity of the chasm. At about fifty yards from the mouth of it we saw a small spring of
water, at which we slaked the burning thirst that now consumed us. Not far from the
spring we discovered several of the filbert-bushes which I mentioned before. Upon
tasting the nuts we found them palatable, and very nearly resembling in flavour the
common English filbert. We collected our hats full immediately, deposited them within
the ravine, and returned for more. While we were busily employed in gathering these, a
rustling in the bushes alarmed us, and we were upon the point of stealing back to our
covert, when a large black bird of the bittern species strugglingly and slowly arose above
the shrubs. I was so much startled that I could do nothing, but Peters had sufficient
presence of mind to run up to it before it could make its escape, and seize it by the neck.
Its struggles and screams were tremendous, and we had thoughts of letting it go, lest the
noise should alarm some of the savages who might be still lurking in the neighbourhood.
A stab with a bowie knife, however, at length brought it to the ground, and we dragged it
into the ravine, congratulating ourselves that, at all events, we had thus obtained a supply
of food enough to last us for a week.

We now went out again to look about us, and ventured a considerable distance down the
southern declivity of the hill, but met with nothing else which could serve us for food.
We therefore collected a quantity of dry wood and returned, seeing one or two large
parties of the natives on their way to the village, laden with the plunder of the vessel, and
who, we were apprehensive, might discover us in passing beneath the hill.

Our next care was to render our place of concealment as secure as possible, and with this
object, we arranged some brushwood over the aperture which I have before spoken of as
the one through which we saw the patch of blue sky, on reaching the platform from the
interior of the chasm. We left only a very small opening just wide enough to admit of our
seeing the, bay, without the risk of being discovered from below. Having done this, we
congratulated ourselves upon the security of the position; for we were now completely
excluded from observation, as long as we chose to remain within the ravine itself, and not

venture out upon the hill, We could perceive no traces of the savages having ever been
within this hollow; but, indeed, when we came to reflect upon the probability that the
fissure through which we attained it had been only just now created by the fall of the cliff
opposite, and that no other way of attaining it could be perceived, we were not so much
rejoiced at the thought of being secure from molestation as fearful lest there should be
absolutely no means left us for descent. We resolved to explore the summit of the hill
thoroughly, when a good opportunity should offer. In the meantime we watched the
motions of the savages through our loophole.

They had already made a complete wreck of the vessel, and were now preparing to set
her on fire. In a little while we saw the smoke ascending in huge volumes from her main
hatchway, and, shortly afterward, a dense mass of flame burst up from the forecastle. The
rigging, masts and what remained of the sails caught immediately, and the fire spread
rapidly along the decks. Still a great many of the savages retained their stations about her,
hammering with large stones, axes, and cannon balls at the bolts and other iron and
copper work. On the beach, and in canoes and rafts, there were not less, altogether, in the
immediate vicinity of the schooner, than ten thousand natives, besides the shoals of them
who, laden with booty, were making their way inland and over to the neighbouring
islands. We now anticipated a catastrophe, and were not disappointed. First of all there
came a smart shock (which we felt as distinctly where we were as if we had been slightly
galvanized), but unattended with any visible signs of an explosion. The savages were
evidently startled, and paused for an instant from their labours and yellings. They were
upon the point of recommencing, when suddenly a mass of smoke puffed up from the
decks, resembling a black and heavy thundercloud-then, as if from its bowels, arose a tall
stream of vivid fire to the height, apparently, of a quarter of a mile-then there came a
sudden circular expansion of the flame-then the whole atmosphere was magically
crowded, in a single instant, with a wild chaos of wood, and metal, and human limbs-and,
lastly, came the concussion in its fullest fury, which hurled us impetuously from our feet,
while the hills echoed and re-echoed the tumult, and a dense shower of the minutest
fragments of the ruins tumbled headlong in every direction around us.

The havoc among the savages far exceeded our utmost expectation, and they had now,
indeed, reaped the full and perfect fruits of their treachery. Perhaps a thousand perished
by the explosion, while at least an equal number were desperately mangled. The whole
surface of the bay was literally strewn with the struggling and drowning wretches, and on
shore matters were even worse. They seemed utterly appalled by the suddenness and
completeness of their discomfiture, and made no efforts at assisting one another. At
length we observed a total change in their demeanour. From absolute stupor, they
appeared to be, all at once, aroused to the highest pitch of excitement, and rushed wildly
about, going to and from a certain point on the beach, with the strangest expressions of
mingled horror, rage, and intense curiosity depicted on their countenances, and shouting,
at the top of their voices, "Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!"

Presently we saw a large body go off into the hills, whence they returned in a short time,
carrying stakes of wood. These they brought to the station where the crowd was the
thickest, which now separated so as to afford us a view of the object of all this

excitement. We perceived something white lying upon the ground, but could not
immediately make out what it was. At length we saw that it was the carcass of the strange
animal with the scarlet teeth and claws which the schooner had picked up at sea on the
eighteenth of January. Captain Guy had had the body preserved for the purpose of
stuffing the skin and taking it to England. I remember he had given some directions about
it just before our making the island, and it had been brought into the cabin and stowed
away in one of the lockers. It had now been thrown on shore by the explosion; but why it
had occasioned so much concern among the savages was more than we could
comprehend. Although they crowded around the carcass at a little distance, none of them
seemed willing to approach it closely. By-and-by the men with the stakes drove them in a
circle around it, and no sooner was this arrangement completed, than the whole of the
vast assemblage rushed into the interior of the island, with loud screams of "Tekeli-li!
Tekeli-li!"

CHAPTER XXIII

During the six or seven days immediately following we remained in our hiding-place
upon the hill, going out only occasionally, and then with the greatest precaution, for
water and filberts. We had made a kind of penthouse on the platform, furnishing it with a
bed of dry leaves, and placing in it three large flat stones, which served us for both
fireplace and table. We kindled a fire without difficulty by rubbing two pieces of dry
wood together, the one soft, the other hard. The bird we had taken in such good season
proved excellent eating, although somewhat tough. It was not an oceanic fowl, but a
species of bittern, with jet black and grizzly plumage, and diminutive wings in proportion
to its bulk. We afterward saw three of the same kind in the vicinity of the ravine,
apparently seeking for the one we had captured; but, as they never alighted, we had no
opportunity of catching them.

As long as this fowl lasted we suffered nothing from our situation, but it was now entirely
consumed, and it became absolutely necessary that we should look out for provision. The
filberts would not satisfy the cravings of hunger, afflicting us, too, with severe gripings of
the bowels, and, if freely indulged in, with violent headache. We had seen several large
tortoises near the seashore to the eastward of the hill, and perceived they might be easily
taken, if we could get at them without the observation of the natives. It was resolved,
therefore, to make an attempt at descending.

We commenced by going down the southern declivity, which seemed to offer the fewest
difficulties, but had not proceeded a hundred yards before (as we had anticipated from
appearances on the hilltop) our progress was entirely arrested by a branch of the gorge in
which our companions had perished. We now passed along the edge of this for about a
quarter of a mile, when we were again stopped by a precipice of immense depth, and, not
being able to make our way along the brink of it, we were forced to retrace our steps by
the main ravine.

We now pushed over to the eastward, but with precisely similar fortune. After an hour's
scramble, at the risk of breaking our necks, we discovered that we had merely descended

into a vast pit of black granite, with fine dust at the bottom, and whence the only egress
was by the rugged path in which we had come down. Toiling again up this path, we now
tried the northern edge of the hill. Here we were obliged to use the greatest possible
caution in our manoeuvres, as the least indiscretion would expose us to the full view of
the savages in the village. We crawled along, therefore, on our hands and knees, and,
occasionally, were even forced to throw ourselves at full length, dragging our bodies
along by means of the shrubbery. In this careful manner we had proceeded but a little
way, when we arrived at a chasm far deeper than any we had yet seen, and leading
directly into the main gorge. Thus our fears were fully confirmed, and we found
ourselves cut off entirely from access to the world below. Thoroughly exhausted by our
exertions, we made the best of our way back to the platform, and throwing ourselves
upon the bed of leaves, slept sweetly and soundly for some hours.

For several days after this fruitless search we were occupied in exploring every part of
the summit of the hill, in order to inform ourselves of its actual resources. We found that
it would afford us no food, with the exception of the unwholesome filberts, and a rank
species of scurvy grass, which grew in a little patch of not more than four rods square,
and would be soon exhausted. On the fifteenth of February, as near as I can remember,
there was not a blade of this left, and the nuts were growing scarce; our situation,
therefore, could hardly be more lamentable.* On the sixteenth we again went round the
walls of our prison, in hope of finding some avenue of escape; but to no purpose. We also
descended the chasm in which we had been overwhelmed, with the faint expectation of
discovering, through this channel, some opening to the main ravine. Here, too, we were
disappointed, although we found and brought up with us a musket.

* This day was rendered remarkable by our observing in the south several huge wreaths
of the grayish vapour I have spoken of.

On the seventeenth we set out with the determination of examining more thoroughly the
chasm of black granite into which we had made our way in the first search. We
remembered that one of the fissures in the sides of this pit had been but partially looked
into, and we were anxious to explore it, although with no expectation of discovering here
any opening.

We found no great difficulty in reaching the bottom of the hollow as before, and were
now sufficiently calm to survey it with some attention. It was, indeed, one of the most
singular-looking places imaginable, and we could scarcely bring ourselves to believe it
altogether the work of nature. The pit, from its eastern to its western extremity, was about
five hundred yards in length, when all its windings were threaded; the distance from east
to west in a straight line not being more (I should suppose, having no means of accurate
examination) than forty or fifty yards. Upon first descending into the chasm, that is to
say, for a hundred feet downward from the summit of the hill, the sides of the abyss bore
little resemblance to each other, and, apparently, had at no time been connected, the one
surface being of the soapstone, and the other of marl, granulated with some metallic
matter. The average breadth or interval between the two cliffs was probably here sixty
feet, but there seemed to be no regularity of formation. Passing down, however, beyond

the limit spoken of, the interval rapidly contracted, and the sides began to run parallel,
although, for some distance farther, they were still dissimilar in their material and form of
surface. Upon arriving within fifty feet of the bottom, a perfect regularity commenced.
The sides were now entirely uniform in substance, in colour, and in lateral direction, the
material being a very black and shining granite, and the distance between the two sides,
at all points facing each other, exactly twenty yards. The precise formation of the chasm
will be best understood by means of a delineation taken upon the spot; for I had luckily
with me a pocketbook and pencil, which I preserved with great care through a long series
of subsequent adventure, and to which I am indebted for memoranda of many subjects
which would otherwise have been crowded from my remembrance.

This figure (see fig. 1) gives the general outlines of the chasm, without the minor cavities
in the sides, of which there were several, each cavity having a corresponding
protuberance opposite. The bottom of the gulf was covered to the depth of three or four
inches with a powder almost impalpable, beneath which we found a continuation of the
black granite. To the right, at the lower extremity, will be noticed the appearance of a
small opening; this is the fissure alluded to above, and to examine which more minutely
than before was the object of our second visit. We now pushed into it with vigor, cutting
away a quantity of brambles which impeded us, and removing a vast heap of sharp flints
somewhat resembling arrowheads in shape. We were encouraged to persevere, however,
by perceiving some little light proceeding from the farther end. We at length squeezed
our way for about thirty feet, and found that the aperture was a low and regularly formed
arch, having a bottom of the same impalpable powder as that in the main chasm. A strong
light now broke upon us, and, turning a short bend, we found ourselves in another lofty
chamber, similar to the one we had left in every respect but longitudinal form. Its general
figure is here given. (See fig. 2.)

The total length of this chasm, commencing at the opening a and proceeding round the
curve b to the extremity d, is five hundred and fifty yards. At c we discovered a small
aperture similar to the one through which we had issued from the other chasm, and this
was choked up in the same manner with brambles and a quantity of the white arrowhead
flints. We forced our way through it, finding it about forty feet long, and emerged into a
third chasm. This, too, was precisely like the first, except in its longitudinal shape, which
was thus. (See fig. 3.)

We found the entire length of the third chasm three hundred and twenty yards. At the
point a was an opening about six feet wide, and extending fifteen feet into the rock,
where it terminated in a bed of marl, there being no other chasm beyond, as we had
expected. We were about leaving this fissure, into which very little light was admitted,
when Peters called my attention to a range of singular-looking indentures in the surface
of the marl forming the termination of the cul-de-sac. With a very slight exertion of the
imagination, the left, or most northern of these indentures might have been taken for the
intentional, although rude, representation of a human figure standing erect, with
outstretched arm. The rest of them bore also some little resemblance to alphabetical
characters, and Peters was willing, at all events, to adopt the idle opinion that they were
really such. I convinced him of his error, finally, by directing his attention to the floor of

the fissure, where, among the powder, we picked up, piece by piece, several large flakes
of the marl, which had evidently been broken off by some convulsion from the surface
where the indentures were found, and which had projecting points exactly fitting the
indentures; thus proving them to have been the work of nature. Fig. 4 presents an
accurate copy of the whole.

After satisfying ourselves that these singular caverns afforded us no means of escape
from our prison, we made our way back, dejected and dispirited, to the summit of the hill.
Nothing worth mentioning occurred during the next twenty-four hours, except that, in
examining the ground to the eastward of the third chasm, we found two triangular holes
of great depth, and also with black granite sides. Into these holes we did not think it
worth while to attempt descending, as they had the appearance of mere natural wells,
without outlet. They were each about twenty yards in circumference, and their shape, as
well as relative position in regard to the third chasm, is shown in figure 5.

CHAPTER XXIV

On the twentieth of the month, finding it altogether impossible to subsist any longer upon
the filberts, the use of which occasioned us the most excruciating torment, we resolved to
make a desperate attempt at descending the southern declivity of the hill. The face of the
precipice was here of the softest species of soapstone, although nearly perpendicular
throughout its whole extent (a depth of a hundred and fifty feet at the least), and in many
places even overarching. After long search we discovered a narrow ledge about twenty
feet below the brink of the gulf; upon this Peters contrived to leap, with what assistance I
could render him by means of our pocket-handkerchiefs tied together. With somewhat
more difficulty I also got down; and we then saw the possibility of descending the whole
way by the process in which we had clambered up from the chasm when we had been
buried by the fall of the hill-that is, by cutting steps in the face of the soapstone with our
knives. The extreme hazard of the attempt can scarcely be conceived; but, as there was no
other resource, we determined to undertake it.

Upon the ledge where we stood there grew some filbert bushes; and to one of these we
made fast an end of our rope of handkerchiefs. The other end being tied round Peters'
waist, I lowered him down over the edge of the precipice until the handkerchiefs were
stretched tight. He now proceeded to dig a deep hole in the soapstone (as far in as eight or
ten inches), sloping away the rock above to the height of a foot, or thereabout, so as to
allow of his driving, with the butt of a pistol, a tolerably strong peg into the levelled
surface. I then drew him up for about four feet when he made a hole similar to the one
below, driving in a peg as before and having thus a resting place for both feet and hands.
I now unfastened the handkerchiefs from the bush, throwing him the end, which he tied
to the peg in the uppermost hole, letting himself down gently to a station about three feet
lower than he had yet been-that is, to the full extent of the handkerchiefs. Here he dug
another hole, and drove another peg. He then drew himself up, so as to rest his feet in the
hole just cut, taking hold with his hands upon the peg in the one above. It was now
necessary to untie the handkerchiefs from the topmost peg, with the view of fastening
them to the second; and here he found that an error had been committed in cutting the

holes at so great a distance apart. However, after one or two unsuccessful and dangerous
attempts at reaching the knot (having to hold on with his left hand while he laboured to
undo the fastening with his right), he at length cut the string, leaving six inches of it
affixed to the peg. Tying the handkerchiefs now to the second peg, he descended to a
station below the third, taking care not to go too far down. By these means (means which
I should never have conceived of myself, and for which we were indebted altogether to
Peters' ingenuity and resolution) my companion finally succeeded, with the occasional
aid of projections in the cliff, in reaching the bottom without accident.

It was some time before I could summon sufficient resolution to follow him; but I did at
length attempt it. Peters had taken off his shirt before descending, and this, with my own,
formed the rope necessary for the adventure. After throwing down the musket found in
the chasm, I fastened this rope to the bushes, and let myself down rapidly, striving, by the
vigour of my movements, to banish the trepidation which I could overcome in no other
manner. This answered sufficiently well for the first four or five steps; but presently I
found my imagination growing terribly excited by thoughts of the vast depths yet to be
descended, and the precarious nature of the pegs and soapstone holes which were my
only support. It was in vain I endeavoured to banish these reflections, and to keep my
eyes steadily bent upon the flat surface of the cliff before me. The more earnestly I
struggled not to think, the more intensely vivid became my conceptions, and the more
horribly distinct. At length arrived that crisis of fancy, so fearful in all similar cases, the
crisis in which we begin to anticipate the feelings with which we shall fall- to picture to
ourselves the sickness, and dizziness, and the last struggle, and the half swoon, and the
final bitterness of the rushing and headlong descent. And now I found these fancies
creating their own realities, and all imagined horrors crowding upon me in fact. I felt my
knees strike violently together, while my fingers were gradually but certainly relaxing
their grasp. There was a ringing in my ears, and I said, "This is my knell of death!" And
now I was consumed with the irrepressible desire of looking below. I could not, I would
not, confine my glances to the cliff; and, with a wild, indefinable emotion, half of horror,
half of a relieved oppression, I threw my vision far down into the abyss. For one moment
my fingers clutched convulsively upon their hold, while, with the movement, the faintest
possible idea of ultimate escape wandered, hke a shadow, through my mind-in the next
my whole soul was pervaded with a longing to fall; a desire, a yearning, a passion utterly
uncontrollable. I let go at once my grasp upon the and, turning half round from the
precipice, remained tottering for an instant against its naked face. But now there came a
spinning of the brain; a shrill- sounding and phantom voice screamed within my ears; a
dusky, fiendish, and filmy figure stood immediately beneath me; and, sighing, I sunk
down with a bursting heart, and plunged within its arms.

I had swooned, and Peters had caught me as I fell. He had observed my proceedings from
his station at the bottom of the cliff; and perceiving my imminent danger, had
endeavoured to inspire me with courage by every suggestion he could devise; although
my confusion of mind had been so great as to prevent my hearing what he said, or being
conscious that he had even spoken to me at all. At length, seeing me totter, he hastened to
ascend to my rescue, and arrived just in time for my preservation. Had I f Allan with my
full weight, the rope of linen would inevitably have snapped, and I should have been

precipitated into the abyss; as it was, he contrived to let me down gently, so as to remain
suspended without danger until animation returned. This was in about fifteen minutes. On
recovery, my trepidation had entirely vanished; I felt a new being, and, with some little
further aid from my companion, reached the bottom also in safety.

We now found ourselves not far from the ravine which had proved the tomb of our
friends, and to the southward of the spot where the hill had f Allan. The place was one of
singular wildness, and its aspect brought to my mind the descriptions given by travellers
of those dreary regions marking the site of degraded Babylon. Not to speak of the ruins of
the disrupted cliff, which formed a chaotic barrier in the vista to the northward, the
surface of the ground in every other direction was strewn with huge tumuli, apparently
the wreck of some gigantic structures of art; although, in detail, no semblance of art could
be detected. Scoria were abundant, and large shapeless blocks of the black granite,
intermingled with others of marl,* and both granulated with metal. Of vegetation there
were no traces whatsoever throughout the whole of the desolate area within sight. Several
immense scorpions were seen, and various reptiles not elsewhere to be found in the high
latitudes.

* The marl was also black; indeed, we noticed no light-coloured substances of any kind
upon the island.

As food was our most immediate object, we resolved to make our way to the seacoast,
distant not more than half a mile, with a view of catching turtle, several of which we had
observed from our place of concealment on the hill. We had proceeded some hundred
yards, threading our route cautiously between the huge rocks and tumuli, when, upon
turning a corner, five savages sprung upon us from a small cavern, felling Peters to the
ground with a blow from a club. As he fell the whole party rushed upon him to secure
their victim, leaving me time to recover from my astonishment. I still had the musket, but
the barrel had received so much injury in being thrown from the precipice that I cast it
aside as useless, preferring to trust my pistols, which had been carefully preserved in
order. With these I advanced upon the assailants, firing one after the other in quick
succession. Two savages fell, and one, who was in the act of thrusting a spear into Peters,
sprung to his feet without accomplishing his purpose. My companion being thus released,
we had no further difficulty. He had his pistols also, but prudently declined using them,
confiding in his great personal strength, which far exceeded that of any person I have
ever known. Seizing a club from one of the savages who had fAUan, he dashed out the
brains of the three who remained, killing each instantaneously with a single blow of the
weapon, and leaving us completely masters of the field.

So rapidly had these events passed, that we could scarcely believe in their reality, and
were standing over the bodies of the dead in a species of stupid contemplation, when we
were brought to recollection by the sound of shouts in the distance. It was clear that the
savages had been alarmed by the firing, and that we had little chance of avoiding
discovery. To regain the cliff, it would be necessary to proceed in the direction of the
shouts; and even should we succeed in arriving at its base, we should never be able to
ascend it without being seen. Our situation was one of the greatest peril, and we were

hesitating in which path to commence a flight, when one of the savages whom I had shot,
and supposed dead, sprang briskly to his feet, and attempted to make his escape. We
overtook him, however, before he had advanced many paces, and were about to put him
to death, when Peters suggested that we might derive some benefit from forcing him to
accompany us in our attempt to escape. We therefore dragged him with us, making him
understand that we would shoot him if he offered resistance. In a few minutes he was
perfectly submissive, and ran by our sides as we pushed in among the rocks, making for
the seashore.

So far, the irregularities of the ground we had been traversing hid the sea, except at
intervals, from our sight, and, when we first had it fairly in view, it was perhaps, two
hundred yards distant. As we emerged into the open beach we saw, to our great dismay,
an immense crowd of the natives pouring from the village, and from all visible quarters
of the island, making toward us with gesticulations of extreme fury, and howling like
wild beasts. We were upon the point of turning upon our steps, and trying to secure a
retreat among the fastnesses of the rougher ground, when I discovered the bows of two
canoes projecting from behind a large rock which ran out into the water. Toward these we
now ran with all speed, and, reaching them, found them unguarded, and without any other
freight than three of the large Gallipago turtles and the usual supply of paddles for sixty
rowers. We instantly took possession of one of them, and, forcing our captive on board,
pushed out to sea with an the strength we could command.

We had not made, however, more than fifty yards from the shore before we became
sufficiently calm to perceive the great oversight of which we had been guilty in leaving
the other canoe in the power of the savages, who, by this time, were not more than twice
as far from the beach as ourselves, and were rapidly advancing to the pursuit. No time
was now to be lost. Our hope was, at best, a forlorn one, but we had none other. It was
very doubtful whether, with the utmost exertion, we could get back in time to anticipate
them in taking possession of the canoe; but yet there was a chance that we could. We
might save ourselves if we succeeded, while not to make the attempt was to resign
ourselves to inevitable butchery.

The canoe was modelled with the bow and stern alike, and, in place of turning it round,
we merely changed our position in paddling. As soon as the savages perceived this they
redoubled their yells, as well as their speed, and approached with inconceivable rapidity.
We pulled, however, with all the energy of desperation, and arrived at the contested point
before more than one of the natives had attained it. This man paid dearly for his superior
agility, Peters shooting him through the head with a pistol as he approached the shore.
The foremost among the rest of his party were probably some twenty or thirty paces
distant as we seized upon the canoe. We at first endeavoured to pull her into the deep
water, beyond the reach of the savages, but, finding her too firmly aground, and there
being no time to spare, Peters, with one or two heavy strokes from the butt of the musket,
succeeded in dashing out a large portion of the bow and of one side. We then pushed off.
Two of the natives by this time had got hold of our boat, obstinately refusing to let go,
until we were forced to despatch them with our knives. We were now clear off, and
making great way out to sea. The main body of the savages, upon reaching the broken

canoe, set up the most tremendous yell of rage and disappointment conceivable. In truth,
from every thing I could see of these wretches, they appeared to be the most wicked,
hypocritical, vindictive, bloodthirsty, and altogether fiendish race of men upon the face of
the globe. It is clear we should have had no mercy had we fAUan into their hands. They
made a mad attempt at following us in the fractured canoe, but, finding it useless, again
vented their rage in a series of hideous vociferations, and rushed up into the hills.

We were thus relieved from immediate danger, but our situation was still sufficiently
gloomy. We knew that four canoes of the kind we had were at one time in the possession
of the savages, and were not aware of the fact (afterward ascertained from our captive)
that two of these had been blown to pieces in the explosion of the Jane Guy. We
calculated, therefore, upon being yet pursued, as soon as our enemies could get round to
the bay (distant about three miles) where the boats were usually laid up. Fearing this, we
made every exertion to leave the island behind us, and went rapidly through the water,
forcing the prisoner to take a paddle. In about half an hour, when we had gained,
probably, five or six miles to the southward, a large fleet of the flat-bottomed canoes or
rafts were seen to emerge from the bay evidently with the design of pursuit. Presently
they put back, despairing to overtake us.

CHAPTER XXV

We now found ourselves in the wide and desolate Antarctic Ocean, in a latitude
exceeding eighty-four degrees, in a frail canoe, and with no provision but the three
turtles. The long polar winter, too, could not be considered as far distant, and it became
necessary that we should deliberate well upon the course to be pursued. There were six or
seven islands in sight belonging to the same group, and distant from each other about five
or six leagues; but upon neither of these had we any intention to venture. In coming from
the northward in the Jane Guy we had been gradually leaving behind us the severest
regions of ice-this, however little it may be in accordance with the generally received
notions respecting the Antarctic, was a fact experience would not permit us to deny. To
attempt, therefore, getting back would be foUy-especially at so late a period of the
season. Only one course seemed to be left open for hope. We resolved to steer boldly to
the southward, where there was at least a probability of discovering lands, and more than
a probability of finding a still milder climate.

So far we had found the Antarctic, like the Arctic Ocean, peculiarly free from violent
storms or immoderately rough water, but our canoe was, at best, of frail structure,
although large, and we set busily to work with a view of rendering her as safe as the
limited means in our possession would admit. The body of the boat was of no better
material than bark-the bark of a tree unknown. The ribs were of a tough osier, well
adapted to the purpose for which it was used. We had fifty feet room from stem to stem,
from four to six in breadth, and in depth throughout four feet and a half-the boats thus
differing vastly in shape from those of any other inhabitants of the Southem Ocean with
whom civilized nations are acquainted. We never did believe them the workmanship of
the ignorant islanders who owned them; and some days after this period discovered, by
questioning our captive, that they were in fact made by the natives of a group to the

southwest of the country where we found them, having f Allan accidentally into the hands
of our barbarians. What we could do for the security of our boat was very little indeed.
Several wide rents were discovered near both ends, and these we contrived to patch up
with pieces of woollen jacket. With the help of the superfluous paddles, of which there
were a great many, we erected a kind of framework about the bow, so as to break the
force of any seas which might threaten to fill us in that quarter. We also set up two paddle
blades for masts, placing them opposite each other, one by each gunwale, thus saving the
necessity of a yard. To these masts we attached a sail made of our shirts-doing this with
some difficulty, as here we could get no assistance from our prisoner whatever, although
he had been willing enough to labour in all the other operations. The sight of the linen
seemed to affect him in a very singular manner. He could not be prevailed upon to touch
it or go near it, shuddering when we attempted to force him, and shrieking out, "Tekeli-
li!"

Having completed our arrangements in regard to the security of the canoe, we now set
sail to the south southeast for the present, with the view of weathering the most southerly
of the group in sight. This being done, we turned the bow full to the southward. The
weather could by no means be considered disagreeable. We had a prevailing and very
gentle wind from the northward, a smooth sea, and continual daylight. No ice whatever
was to be seen; nor did I ever see one particle of this after leaving the parallel of Rennet's
Islet. Indeed, the temperature of the water was here far too warm for its existence in any
quantity. Having killed the largest of our tortoises, and obtained from him not only food
but a copious supply of water, we continued on our course, without any incident of
moment, for perhaps seven or eight days, during which period we must have proceeded a
vast distance to the southward, as the wind blew constantly with us, and a very strong
current set continually in the direction we were pursuing.

March l.*-Many unusual phenomena now indicated that we were entering upon a region
of novelty and wonder. A high range of light gray vapour appeared constantly in the
southern horizon, flaring up occasionally in lofty streaks, now darting from east to west,
now from west to east, and again presenting a level and uniform summit-in short, having
all the wild variations of the Aurora Borealis. The average height of this vapour, as
apparent from our station, was about twenty-five degrees. The temperature of the sea
seemed to be increasing momentarily, and there was a very perceptible alteration in its
colour.

* For obvious reasons I cannot pretend to strict accuracy in these dates. They are given
principally with a view to perspicuity of narration, and as set down in my pencil
memorandum.

March 2.-To-day by repeated questioning of our captive, we came to the knowledge of
many particulars in regard to the island of the massacre, its inhabitants, and customs-but
with these how can I now detain the reader? I may say, however, that we learned there
were eight islands in the group-that they were governed by a common king, named
Tsalemon or Psalemoun, who resided in one of the smallest of the islands; that the black
skins forming the dress of the warriors came from an animal of huge size to be found

only in a valley near the court of the king-that the inhabitants of the group fabricated no
other boats than the flat-bottomed rafts; the four canoes being all of the kind in their
possession, and these having been obtained, by mere accident, from some large island in
the south we st-that his own name was Nu-Nu-that he had no knowledge of Rennet's
Islet-and that the appellation of the island he had left was Tsalal. The commencement of
the words Tsalemon and Tsalal was given with a prolonged hissing sound, which we
found it impossible to imitate, even after repeated endeavours, and which was precisely
the same with the note of the black bittern we had eaten up on the summit of the hill.

March 3. -The heat of the water was now truly remarkable, and in colour was undergoing
a rapid change, being no longer transparent, but of a milky consistency and hue. In our
immediate vicinity it was usually smooth, never so rough as to endanger the canoe-but
we were frequently surprised at perceiving, to our right and left, at different distances,
sudden and extensive agitations of the surface-these, we at length noticed, were always
preceded by wild flickerings in the region of vapour to the southward.

March 4.-To-day, with the view of widening our sail, the breeze from the northward
dying away perceptibly, I took from my coat-pocket a white handkerchief. Nu-Nu was
seated at my elbow, and the linen accidentally flaring in his face, he became violently
affected with convulsions. These were succeeded by drowsiness and stupor, and low
murmurings of "Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!"

March 5. -The wind had entirely ceased, but it was evident that we were still hurrying on
to the southward, under the influence of a powerful current. And now, indeed, it would
seem reasonable that we should experience some alarm at the turn events were taking-but
we felt none. The countenance of Peters indicated nothing of this nature, although it wore
at times an expression I could not fathom. The polar winter appeared to be coming on-
but coming without its terrors. I felt a numbness of body and mind-a dreaminess of
sensation-but this was all.

March 6.-The gray vapour had now arisen many more degrees above the horizon, and
was gradually losing its grayness of tint. The heat of the water was extreme, even
unpleasant to the touch, and its milky hue was more evident than ever. To-day a violent
agitation of the water occurred very close to the canoe. It was attended, as usual, with a
wild flaring up of the vapour at its summit, and a momentary division at its base. A fine
white powder, resembling ashes-but certainly not such-fell over the canoe and over a
large surface of the water, as the flickering died away among the vapour and the
commotion subsided in the sea. Nu-Nu now threw himself on his face in the bottom of
the boat, and no persuasions could induce him to arise.

March 7. -This day we questioned Nu-Nu concerning the motives of his countrymen in
destroying our companions; but he appeared to be too utterly overcome by terror to afford
us any rational reply. He still obstinately lay in the bottom of the boat; and, upon
reiterating the questions as to the motive, made use only of idiotic gesticulations, such as
raising with his forefinger the upper lip, and displaying the teeth which lay beneath it.
These were black. We had never before seen the teeth of an inhabitant of Tsalal.

March 8.-To-day there floated by us one of the white animals whose appearance upon
the beach at Tsalal had occasioned so wild a commotion among the savages. I would
have picked it up, but there came over me a sudden listlessness, and I forbore. The heat of
the water still increased, and the hand could no longer be endured within it. Peters spoke
little, and I knew not what to think of his apathy. Nu-Nu breathed, and no more.

March 9.-The whole ashy material fell now continually around us, and in vast quantities.
The range of vapour to the southward had arisen prodigiously in the horizon, and began
to assume more distinctness of form. I can liken it to nothing but a limitless cataract,
rolling silently into the sea from some immense and far-distant rampart in the heaven.
The gigantic curtain ranged along the whole extent of the southern horizon. It emitted no
sound.

March 21. -A sullen darkness now hovered above us-but from out the milky depths of the
ocean a luminous glare arose, and stole up along the bulwarks of the boat. We were
nearly overwhelmed by the white ashy shower which settled upon us and upon the canoe,
but melted into the water as it fell. The summit of the cataract was utterly lost in the
dimness and the distance. Yet we were evidently approaching it with a hideous velocity.
At intervals there were visible in it wide, yawning, but momentary rents, and from out
these rents, within which was a chaos of flitting and indistinct images, there came rushing
and mighty, but soundless winds, tearing up the enkindled ocean in their course.

March 22.-The darkness had materially increased, relieved only by the glare of the water
thrown back from the white curtain before us. Many gigantic and pallidly white birds
flew continuously now from beyond the veil, and their scream was the eternal Tekeli-li!
as they retreated from our vision. Hereupon Nu-Nu stirred in the bottom of the boat; but
upon touching him, we found his spirit departed. And now we rushed into the embraces
of the cataract, where a chasm threw itself open to receive us. But there arose in our
pathway a shrouded human figure, very far larger in its proportions than any dweller
among men. And the hue of the skin of the figure was of the perfect whiteness of the
snow. NOTE

NOTE

The circumstances connected with the late sudden and distressing death of Mr. Pym are
already well known to the public through the medium of the daily press. It is feared that
the few remaining chapters which were to have completed his narrative, and which were
retained by him, while the above were in type, for the purpose of revision, have been
irrecoverably lost through the accident by which he perished himself. This, however, may
prove not to be the case, and the papers, if ultimately found, will be given to the public.

No means have been left untried to remedy the deficiency. The gentleman whose name is
mentioned in the preface, and who, from the statement there made, might be supposed
able to fill the vacuum, has declined the task-this for satisfactory reasons connected with
the general inaccuracy of the details afforded him, and his disbelief in the entire truth of
the latter portions of the narration. Peters, from whom some information might be

expected, is still alive, and a resident of Illinois, but cannot be met with at present. He
may hereafter be found, and will, no doubt, afford material for a conclusion of Mr. Pym's
account.

The loss of the two or three final chapters (for there were but two or three) is the more
deeply to be regretted, as, it cannot be doubted, they contained matter relative to the Pole
itself, or at least to regions in its very near proximity; and as, too, the statements of the
author in relation to these regions may shortly be verified or contradicted by means of the
governmental expedition now preparing for the Southern Ocean.

On one point in the Narrative some remarks may be well offered; and it would afford the
writer of this appendix much pleasure if what he may here observe should have a
tendency to throw credit, in any degree, upon the very singular pages now published. We
allude to the chasms found in the island of Tsalal, and to the whole of the figures
presented in Chapter XXIII.

Mr. Pym has given the figures of the chasm without comment, and speaks decidedly of
the indentures found at the extremity of the most easterly of these chasms as having but a
fanciful resemblance to alphabetical characters, and, in short, as being positively not
such. This assertion is made in a manner so simple, and sustained by a species of
demonstration so conclusive (viz., the fitting of the projections of the fragments found
among the dust into the indentures upon the wall), that we are forced to believe the writer
in earnest; and no reasonable reader should suppose otherwise. But as the facts in relation
to all the figures are most singular (especially when taken in connexion with statements
made in the body of the narrative), it may be as well to say a word or two concerning
them all-this, too, the more especially as the facts in question have, beyond doubt,
escaped the attention of Mr. Foe.

Figure 1, then figure 2, figure 3, and figure 5, when conjoined with one another in the
precise order which the chasms themselves presented, and when deprived of the small
lateral branches or arches (which, it will be remembered, served only as means of
communication between the main chambers, and were of totally distinct character),
constitute an Ethiopian verbal root-the root (SEE ILLUSTRATION) "To be shady"-
whence all the inflections of shadow or darkness.

In regard to the "left or most northwardly" of the indentures in figure 4, it is more than
probable that the opinion of Peters was correct, and that the hieroglyphical appearance
was really the work of art, and intended as the representation of a human form. The
delineation is before the reader, and he may, or may not, perceive the resemblance
suggested; but the rest of the indentures afford strong confirmation of Peters' idea. The
upper range is evidently the Arabic verbal root (SEE ILLUSTRATION) "To be white,"
whence all the inflections of brilliancy and whiteness. The lower range is not so
immediately perspicuous. The characters are somewhat broken and disjointed;
nevertheless, it cannot be doubted that, in their perfect state, they formed the full
Egyptian word (SEE ILLUSTRATION), "The region of the south." It should be observed

that these interpretations confirm the opinion of Peters in regard to the "most
northwardly" of the figures. The arm is outstretched towards the south.

Conclusions such as these open a wide field for speculation and exciting conjecture. They
should be regarded, perhaps, in connexion with some of the most faintly-detailed
incidents of the narrative; although in no visible manner is this chain of connexion
complete. Tekeli-li! was the cry of the affrighted natives of Tsalal upon discovering the
carcass of the white animal picked up at sea. This also was the shuddering exclamation of
the captive Tsalalian upon encountering the white materials in possession of Mr. Pym.
This also was the shriek of the swift-flying, white, and gigantic birds which issued from
the vapoury white curtain of the South. Nothing white was to be found at Tsalal, and
nothing otherwise in the subsequent voyage to the region beyond. It is not impossible that
"Tsalal," the appellation of the island of the chasms, may be found, upon minute
philological scrutiny, to betray either some alliance with the chasms themselves, or some
reference to the Ethiopian characters so mysteriously written in their windings.

"I have graven it within the hills, and my vengeance upon the dust within the rock."

THE END

THE OBLONG BOX

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

SOME YEARS ago, I engaged passage from Charleston, S. C, to the city of New York,
in the fine packet-ship "Independence," Captain Hardy. We were to sail on the fifteenth
of the month (June), weather permitting; and on the fourteenth, I went on board to
arrange some matters in my state-room.

I found that we were to have a great many passengers, including a more than usual
number of ladies. On the list were several of my acquaintances, and among other names, I
was rejoiced to see that of Mr. Cornelius Wyatt, a young artist, for whom I entertained
feelings of warm friendship. He had been with me a fellow- student at C- University,
where we were very much together. He had the ordinary temperament of genius, and was
a compound of misanthropy, sensibility, and enthusiasm. To these qualities he united the
warmest and truest heart which ever beat in a human bosom.

I observed that his name was carded upon three state-rooms; and, upon again referring to
the list of passengers, I found that he had engaged passage for himself, wife, and two
sisters-his own. The state-rooms were sufficiently roomy, and each had two berths, one
above the other. These berths, to be sure, were so exceedingly narrow as to be insufficient
for more than one person; still, I could not comprehend why there were three state-rooms
for these four persons. I was, just at that epoch, in one of those moody frames of mind
which make a man abnormally inquisitive about trifles: and I confess, with shame, that I
busied myself in a variety of ill-bred and preposterous conjectures about this matter of the
supernumerary state-room. It was no business of mine, to be sure, but with none the less
pertinacity did I occupy myself in attempts to resolve the enigma. At last I reached a
conclusion which wrought in me great wonder why I had not arrived at it before. "It is a
servant of course," I said; "what a fool I am, not sooner to have thought of so obvious a
solution!" And then I again repaired to the list-but here I saw distinctly that no servant
was to come with the party, although, in fact, it had been the original design to bring one-
for the words "and servant" had been first written and then overscored. "Oh, extra
baggage, to be sure," I now said to myself-" something he wishes not to be put in the
hold-something to be kept under his own eye-ah, I have it-a painting or so-and this is
what he has been bargaining about with Nicolino, the Italian Jew." This idea satisfied me,
and I dismissed my curiosity for the nonce.

Wyatt's two sisters I knew very well, and most amiable and clever girls they were. His
wife he had newly married, and I had never yet seen her. He had often talked about her in
my presence, however, and in his usual style of enthusiasm. He described her as of
surpassing beauty, wit, and accomplishment. I was, therefore, quite anxious to make her
acquaintance.

On the day in which I visited the ship (the fourteenth), Wyatt and party were also to visit
it-so the captain informed me-and I waited on board an hour longer than I had designed,
in hope of being presented to the bride, but then an apology came. "Mrs. W. was a little
indisposed, and would decline coming on board until to-morrow, at the hour of sailing."

The morrow having arrived, I was going from my hotel to the wharf, when Captain
Hardy met me and said that, "owing to circumstances" (a stupid but convenient phrase),
"he rather thought the Independence' would not sail for a day or two, and that when all
was ready, he would send up and let me know." This I thought strange, for there was a
stiff southerly breeze; but as "the circumstances" were not forthcoming, although I
pumped for them with much perseverance, I had nothing to do but to return home and
digest my impatience at leisure.

I did not receive the expected message from the captain for nearly a week. It came at
length, however, and I immediately went on board. The ship was crowded with
passengers, and every thing was in the bustle attendant upon making sail. Wyatt's party
arrived in about ten minutes after myself. There were the two sisters, the bride, and the
artist- the latter in one of his customary fits of moody misanthropy. I was too well used to
these, however, to pay them any special attention. He did not even introduce me to his
wife-this courtesy devolving, per force, upon his sister Marian-a very sweet and
intelligent girl, who, in a few hurried words, made us acquainted.

Mrs. Wyatt had been closely veiled; and when she raised her veil, in acknowledging my
bow, I confess that I was very profoundly astonished. I should have been much more so,
however, had not long experience advised me not to trust, with too implicit a reliance, the
enthusiastic descriptions of my friend, the artist, when indulging in comments upon the
loveliness of woman. When beauty was the theme, I well knew with what facility he
soared into the regions of the purely ideal.

The truth is, I could not help regarding Mrs. Wyatt as a decidedly plain-looking woman.
If not positively ugly, she was not, I think, very far from it. She was dressed, however, in
exquisite taste-and then I had no doubt that she had captivated my friend's heart by the
more enduring graces of the intellect and soul. She said very few words, and passed at
once into her state-room with Mr. W.

My old inquisitiveness now returned. There was no servant-that was a settled point. I
looked, therefore, for the extra baggage. After some delay, a cart arrived at the wharf,
with an oblong pine box, which was every thing that seemed to be expected. Immediately
upon its arrival we made sail, and in a short time were safely over the bar and standing
out to sea.

The box in question was, as I say, oblong. It was about six feet in length by two and a
half in breadth; I observed it attentively, and like to be precise. Now this shape was
peculiar; and no sooner had I seen it, than I took credit to myself for the accuracy of my
guessing. I had reached the conclusion, it will be remembered, that the extra baggage of
my friend, the artist, would prove to be pictures, or at least a picture; for I knew he had

been for several weeks in conference with Nicolino:-and now here was a box, which,
from its shape, could possibly contain nothing in the world but a copy of Leonardo's
"Last Supper;" and a copy of this very "Last Supper," done by Rubini the younger, at
Florence, I had known, for some time, to be in the possession of Nicolino. This point,
therefore, I considered as sufficiently settled. I chuckled excessively when I thought of
my acumen. It was the first time I had ever known Wyatt to keep from me any of his
artistical secrets; but here he evidently intended to steal a march upon me, and smuggle a
fine picture to New York, under my very nose; expecting me to know nothing of the
matter. I resolved to quiz him well, now and hereafter.

One thing, however, annoyed me not a little. The box did not go into the extra state-room.
It was deposited in Wyatt's own; and there, too, it remained, occupying very nearly the
whole of the floor-no doubt to the exceeding discomfort of the artist and his wife;-this
the more especially as the tar or paint with which it was lettered in sprawling capitals,
emitted a strong, disagreeable, and, to my fancy, a peculiarly disgusting odor. On the lid
were painted the words-"Mrs. Adelaide Curtis, Albany, New York. Charge of Cornelius
Wyatt, Esq. This side up. To be handled with care."

Now, I was aware that Mrs. Adelaide Curtis, of Albany, was the artist's wife's mother,-
but then I looked upon the whole address as a mystification, intended especially for
myself. I made up my mind, of course, that the box and contents would never get farther
north than the studio of my misanthropic friend, in Chambers Street, New York.

For the first three or four days we had fine weather, although the wind was dead ahead;
having chopped round to the northward, immediately upon our losing sight of the coast.
The passengers were, consequently, in high spirits and disposed to be social. I must
except, however, Wyatt and his sisters, who behaved stiffly, and, I could not help
thinking, uncourteously to the rest of the party. Wyatt's conduct I did not so much regard.
He was gloomy, even beyond his usual habit-in fact he was morose-but in him I was
prepared for eccentricity. For the sisters, however, I could make no excuse. They
secluded themselves in their staterooms during the greater part of the passage, and
absolutely refused, although I repeatedly urged them, to hold communication with any
person on board.

Mrs. Wyatt herself was far more agreeable. That is to say, she was chatty; and to be
chatty is no slight recommendation at sea. She became excessively intimate with most of
the ladies; and, to my profound astonishment, evinced no equivocal disposition to coquet
with the men. She amused us all very much. I say "amused"-and scarcely know how to
explain myself. The truth is, I soon found that Mrs. W. was far oftener laughed at than
with. The gentlemen said little about her; but the ladies, in a little while, pronounced her
"a good-hearted thing, rather indifferent looking, totally uneducated, and decidedly
vulgar." The great wonder was, how Wyatt had been entrapped into such a match. Wealth
was the general solution-but this I knew to be no solution at all; for Wyatt had told me
that she neither brought him a dollar nor had any expectations from any source whatever.
"He had married," he said, "for love, and for love only; and his bride was far more than
worthy of his love." When I thought of these expressions, on the part of my friend, I

confess that I felt indescribably puzzled. Could it be possible that he was taking leave of
his senses? What else could I think? He, so refined, so intellectual, so fastidious, with so
exquisite a perception of the faulty, and so keen an appreciation of the beautiful! To be
sure, the lady seemed especially fond of him-particularly so in his absence-when she
made herself ridiculous by frequent quotations of what had been said by her "beloved
husband, Mr. Wyatt." The word "husband" seemed forever-to use one of her own
delicate expressions-forever "on the tip of her tongue." In the meantime, it was observed
by all on board, that he avoided her in the most pointed manner, and, for the most part,
shut himself up alone in his state-room, where, in fact, he might have been said to live
altogether, leaving his wife at full liberty to amuse herself as she thought best, in the
public society of the main cabin.

My conclusion, from what I saw and heard, was, that, the artist, by some unaccountable
freak of fate, or perhaps in some fit of enthusiastic and fanciful passion, had been induced
to unite himself with a person altogether beneath him, and that the natural result, entire
and speedy disgust, had ensued. I pitied him from the bottom of my heart-but could not,
for that reason, quite forgive his incommunicativeness in the matter of the "Last Supper."
For this I resolved to have my revenge.

One day he came upon deck, and, taking his arm as had been my wont, I sauntered with
him backward and forward. His gloom, however (which I considered quite natural under
the circumstances), seemed entirely unabated. He said little, and that moodily, and with
evident effort. I ventured a jest or two, and he made a sickening attempt at a smile. Poor
fellow !-as I thought of his wife, I wondered that he could have heart to put on even the
semblance of mirth. I determined to commence a series of covert insinuations, or
innuendoes, about the oblong box-just to let him perceive, gradually, that I was not
altogether the butt, or victim, of his little bit of pleasant mystification. My first
observation was by way of opening a masked battery. I said something about the
"peculiar shape of that box-," and, as I spoke the words, I smiled knowingly, winked, and
touched him gently with my forefinger in the ribs.

The manner in which Wyatt received this harmless pleasantry convinced me, at once, that
he was mad. At first he stared at me as if he found it impossible to comprehend the
witticism of my remark; but as its point seemed slowly to make its way into his brain, his
eyes, in the same proportion, seemed protruding from their sockets. Then he grew very
red-then hideously pale-then, as if highly amused with what I had insinuated, he began a
loud and boisterous laugh, which, to my astonishment, he kept up, with gradually
increasing vigor, for ten minutes or more. In conclusion, he fell flat and heavily upon the
deck. When I ran to uplift him, to all appearance he was dead.

I called assistance, and, with much difficulty, we brought him to himself. Upon reviving
he spoke incoherently for some time. At length we bled him and put him to bed. The next
morning he was quite recovered, so far as regarded his mere bodily health. Of his mind I
say nothing, of course. I avoided him during the rest of the passage, by advice of the
captain, who seemed to coincide with me altogether in my views of his insanity, but
cautioned me to say nothing on this head to any person on board.

Several circumstances occurred immediately after this fit of Wyatt which contributed to
heighten the curiosity with which I was already possessed. Among other things, this: I
had been nervous-drank too much strong green tea, and slept ill at night-in fact, for two
nights I could not be properly said to sleep at all. Now, my state-room opened into the
main cabin, or dining-room, as did those of all the single men on board. Wyatt's three
rooms were in the after-cabin, which was separated from the main one by a slight sliding
door, never locked even at night. As we were almost constantly on a wind, and the breeze
was not a little stiff, the ship heeled to leeward very considerably; and whenever her
starboard side was to leeward, the sliding door between the cabins slid open, and so
remained, nobody taking the trouble to get up and shut it. But my berth was in such a
position, that when my own state-room door was open, as well as the sliding door in
question (and my own door was always open on account of the heat,) I could see into the
after-cabin quite distinctly, and just at that portion of it, too, where were situated the
state-rooms of Mr. Wyatt. Well, during two nights (not consecutive) while I lay awake, I
clearly saw Mrs. W., about eleven o'clock upon each night, steal cautiously from the
state-room of Mr. W., and enter the extra room, where she remained until daybreak, when
she was called by her husband and went back. That they were virtually separated was
clear. They had separate apartments-no doubt in contemplation of a more permanent
divorce; and here, after all I thought was the mystery of the extra state-room.

There was another circumstance, too, which interested me much. During the two wakeful
nights in question, and immediately after the disappearance of Mrs. Wyatt into the extra
state-room, I was attracted by certain singular cautious, subdued noises in that of her
husband. After listening to them for some time, with thoughtful attention, I at length
succeeded perfectly in translating their import. They were sounds occasioned by the artist
in prying open the oblong box, by means of a chisel and mallet-the latter being
apparently muffled, or deadened, by some soft woollen or cotton substance in which its
head was enveloped.

In this manner I fancied I could distinguish the precise moment when he fairly
disengaged the lid-also, that I could determine when he removed it altogether, and when
he deposited it upon the lower berth in his room; this latter point I knew, for example, by
certain slight taps which the lid made in striking against the wooden edges of the berth, as
he endeavored to lay it down very gently-there being no room for it on the floor. After
this there was a dead stillness, and I heard nothing more, upon either occasion, until
nearly daybreak; unless, perhaps, I may mention a low sobbing, or murmuring sound, so
very much suppressed as to be nearly inaudible-if, indeed, the whole of this latter noise
were not rather produced by my own imagination. I say it seemed to resemble sobbing or
sighing-but, of course, it could not have been either. I rather think it was a ringing in my
own ears. Mr. Wyatt, no doubt, according to custom, was merely giving the rein to one of
his hobbies-indulging in one of his fits of artistic enthusiasm. He had opened his oblong
box, in order to feast his eyes on the pictorial treasure within. There was nothing in this,
however, to make him sob. I repeat, therefore, that it must have been simply a freak of
my own fancy, distempered by good Captain Hardy's green tea. just before dawn, on each
of the two nights of which I speak, I distinctly heard Mr. Wyatt replace the lid upon the
oblong box, and force the nails into their old places by means of the muffled mallet.

Having done this, he issued from his state-room, fully dressed, and proceeded to call Mrs.
W. from hers.

We had been at sea seven days, and were now off Cape Hatteras, when there came a
tremendously heavy blow from the southwest. We were, in a measure, prepared for it,
however, as the weather had been holding out threats for some time. Every thing was
made snug, alow and aloft; and as the wind steadily freshened, we lay to, at length, under
spanker and foretopsail, both double-reefed.

In this trim we rode safely enough for forty-eight hours-the ship proving herself an
excellent sea-boat in many respects, and shipping no water of any consequence. At the
end of this period, however, the gale had freshened into a hurricane, and our after-sail
split into ribbons, bringing us so much in the trough of the water that we shipped several
prodigious seas, one immediately after the other. By this accident we lost three men
overboard with the caboose, and nearly the whole of the larboard bulwarks. Scarcely had
we recovered our senses, before the foretopsail went into shreds, when we got up a storm
stay-sail and with this did pretty well for some hours, the ship heading the sea much
more steadily than before.

The gale still held on, however, and we saw no signs of its abating. The rigging was
found to be ill-fitted, and greatly strained; and on the third day of the blow, about five in
the afternoon, our mizzen-mast, in a heavy lurch to windward, went by the board. For an
hour or more, we tried in vain to get rid of it, on account of the prodigious rolling of the
ship; and, before we had succeeded, the carpenter came aft and announced four feet of
water in the hold. To add to our dilemma, we found the pumps choked and nearly useless.

All was now confusion and despair-but an effort was made to lighten the ship by
throwing overboard as much of her cargo as could be reached, and by cutting away the
two masts that remained. This we at last accomplished-but we were still unable to do any
thing at the pumps; and, in the meantime, the leak gained on us very fast.

At sundown, the gale had sensibly diminished in violence, and as the sea went down with
it, we still entertained faint hopes of saving ourselves in the boats. At eight P. M., the
clouds broke away to windward, and we had the advantage of a full moon-a piece of
good fortune which served wonderfully to cheer our drooping spirits.

After incredible labor we succeeded, at length, in getting the longboat over the side
without material accident, and into this we crowded the whole of the crew and most of
the passengers. This party made off immediately, and, after undergoing much suffering,
finally arrived, in safety, at Ocracoke Inlet, on the third day after the wreck.

Fourteen passengers, with the captain, remained on board, resolving to trust their fortunes
to the jolly-boat at the stern. We lowered it without difficulty, although it was only by a
miracle that we prevented it from swamping as it touched the water. It contained, when
afloat, the captain and his wife, Mr. Wyatt and party, a Mexican officer, wife, four
children, and myself, with a negro valet.

We had no room, of course, for any thing except a few positively necessary instruments,
some provisions, and the clothes upon our backs. No one had thought of even attempting
to save any thing more. What must have been the astonishment of all, then, when having
proceeded a few fathoms from the ship, Mr. Wyatt stood up in the stern- sheets, and
coolly demanded of Captain Hardy that the boat should be put back for the purpose of
taking in his oblong box!

"Sit down, Mr. Wyatt," replied the captain, somewhat sternly, "you will capsize us if you
do not sit quite still. Our gun whale is almost in the water now."

"The box!" vociferated Mr. Wyatt, still standing-"the box, I say! Captain Hardy, you
cannot, you will not refuse me. Its weight will be but a trifle-it is nothing-mere nothing.
By the mother who bore you-for the love of Heaven-by your hope of salvation, I implore
you to put back for the box!"

The captain, for a moment, seemed touched by the earnest appeal of the artist, but he
regained his stern composure, and merely said:

"Mr. Wyatt, you are mad. I cannot listen to you. Sit down, I say, or you will swamp the
boat. Stay-hold him-seize him!-he is about to spring overboard! There-I knew it-he is
over!"

As the captain said this, Mr. Wyatt, in fact, sprang from the boat, and, as we were yet in
the lee of the wreck, succeeded, by almost superhuman exertion, in getting hold of a rope
which hung from the fore-chains. In another moment he was on board, and rushing
frantically down into the cabin.

In the meantime, we had been swept astern of the ship, and being quite out of her lee,
were at the mercy of the tremendous sea which was still running. We made a determined
effort to put back, but our little boat was like a feather in the breath of the tempest. We
saw at a glance that the doom of the unfortunate artist was sealed.

As our distance from the wreck rapidly increased, the madman (for as such only could we
regard him) was seen to emerge from the companion-way, up which by dint of strength
that appeared gigantic, he dragged, bodily, the oblong box. While we gazed in the
extremity of astonishment, he passed, rapidly, several turns of a three-inch rope, first
around the box and then around his body. In another instant both body and box were in
the sea-disappearing suddenly, at once and forever.

We lingered awhile sadly upon our oars, with our eyes riveted upon the spot. At length
we pulled away. The silence remained unbroken for an hour. Finally, I hazarded a
remark.

"Did you observe, captain, how suddenly they sank? Was not that an exceedingly
singular thing? I confess that I entertained some feeble hope of his final deliverance,
when I saw him lash himself to the box, and commit himself to the sea."

"They sank as a matter of course," replied the captain, "and that like a shot. They will
soon rise again, however-but not till the salt melts."

"The salt!" I ejaculated.

"Hush!" said the captain, pointing to the wife and sisters of the deceased. "We must talk
of these things at some more appropriate time."

We suffered much, and made a narrow escape, but fortune befriended us, as well as our
mates in the long-boat. We landed, in fine, more dead than alive, after four days of
intense distress, upon the beach opposite Roanoke Island. We remained here a week,
were not ill-treated by the wreckers, and at length obtained a passage to New York.

About a month after the loss of the "Independence," I happened to meet Captain Hardy in
Broadway. Our conversation turned, naturally, upon the disaster, and especially upon the
sad fate of poor Wyatt. I thus learned the following particulars.

The artist had engaged passage for himself, wife, two sisters and a servant. His wife was,
indeed, as she had been represented, a most lovely, and most accomplished woman. On
the morning of the fourteenth of June (the day in which I first visited the ship), the lady
suddenly sickened and died. The young husband was frantic with grief-but circumstances
imperatively forbade the deferring his voyage to New York. It was necessary to take to
her mother the corpse of his adored wife, and, on the other hand, the universal prejudice
which would prevent his doing so openly was well known. Nine-tenths of the passengers
would have abandoned the ship rather than take passage with a dead body.

In this dilemma. Captain Hardy arranged that the corpse, being first partially embalmed,
and packed, with a large quantity of salt, in a box of suitable dimensions, should be
conveyed on board as merchandise. Nothing was to be said of the lady's decease; and, as
it was well understood that Mr. Wyatt had engaged passage for his wife, it became
necessary that some person should personate her during the voyage. This the deceased
lady's-maid was easily prevailed on to do. The extra state-room, originally engaged for
this girl during her mistress' life, was now merely retained. In this state-room the pseudo-
wife, slept, of course, every night. In the daytime she performed, to the best of her ability,
the part of her mistress-whose person, it had been carefully ascertained, was unknown to
any of the passengers on board.

My own mistake arose, naturally enough, through too careless, too inquisitive, and too
impulsive a temperament. But of late, it is a rare thing that I sleep soundly at night. There
is a countenance which haunts me, turn as I will. There is an hysterical laugh which will
forever ring within my ears.

THE END

THE OVAL PORTRAIT

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

THE CHATEAU into which my valet had ventured to make forcible entrance, rather than
permit me, in my desperately wounded condition, to pass a night in the open air, was one
of those piles of commingled gloom and grandeur which have so long frowned among the
Appennines, not less in fact than in the fancy of Mrs. Radcliffe. To all appearance it had
been temporarily and very lately abandoned. We established ourselves in one of the
smallest and least sumptuously furnished apartments. It lay in a remote turret of the
building. Its decorations were rich, yet tattered and antique. Its walls were hung with
tapestry and bedecked with manifold and multiform armorial trophies, together with an
unusually great number of very spirited modern paintings in frames of rich golden
arabesque. In these paintings, which depended from the walls not only in their main
surfaces, but in very many nooks which the bizarre architecture of the chateau rendered
necessary-in these paintings my incipient delirium, perhaps, had caused me to take deep
interest; so that I bade Pedro to close the heavy shutters of the room-since it was already
night-to light the tongues of a tall candelabrum which stood by the head of my bed-and
to throw open far and wide the fringed curtains of black velvet which enveloped the bed
itself. I wished all this done that I might resign myself, if not to sleep, at least alternately
to the contemplation of these pictures, and the perusal of a small volume which had been
found upon the pillow, and which purported to criticise and describe them.

Long-long I read-and devoutly, devotedly I gazed. Rapidly and gloriously the hours flew
by and the deep midnight came. The position of the candelabrum displeased me, and
outreaching my hand with difficulty, rather than disturb my slumbering valet, I placed it
so as to throw its rays more fully upon the book.

But the action produced an effect altogether unanticipated. The rays of the numerous
candles (for there were many) now fell within a niche of the room which had hitherto
been thrown into deep shade by one of the bed-posts. I thus saw in vivid light a picture all
unnoticed before. It was the portrait of a young girl just ripening into womanhood. I
glanced at the painting hurriedly, and then closed my eyes. Why I did this was not at first
apparent even to my own perception. But while my lids remained thus shut, I ran over in
my mind my reason for so shutting them. It was an impulsive movement to gain time for
thought-to make sure that my vision had not deceived me-to calm and subdue my fancy
for a more sober and more certain gaze. In a very few moments I again looked fixedly at
the painting.

That I now saw aright I could not and would not doubt; for the first flashing of the
candles upon that canvas had seemed to dissipate the dreamy stupor which was stealing
over my senses, and to startle me at once into waking life.

The portrait, I have already said, was that of a young girl. It was a mere head and
shoulders, done in what is technically termed a vignette manner; much in the style of the
favorite heads of Sully. The arms, the bosom, and even the ends of the radiant hair melted
imperceptibly into the vague yet deep shadow which formed the back-ground of the
whole. The frame was oval, richly gilded and filigreed in Moresque. As a thing of art
nothing could be more admirable than the painting itself. But it could have been neither
the execution of the work, nor the immortal beauty of the countenance, which had so
suddenly and so vehemently moved me. Least of all, could it have been that my fancy,
shaken from its half slumber, had mistaken the head for that of a living person. I saw at
once that the peculiarities of the design, of the vignetting, and of the frame, must have
instantly dispelled such idea-must have prevented even its momentary entertainment.
Thinking earnestly upon these points, I remained, for an hour perhaps, half sitting, half
reclining, with my vision riveted upon the portrait. At length, satisfied with the true secret
of its effect, I fell back within the bed. I had found the spell of the picture in an absolute
life-likeliness of expression, which, at first startling, finally confounded, subdued, and
appalled me. With deep and reverent awe I replaced the candelabrum in its former
position. The cause of my deep agitation being thus shut from view, I sought eagerly the
volume which discussed the paintings and their histories. Turning to the number which
designated the oval portrait, I there read the vague and quaint words which follow:

"She was a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full of glee. And evil was
the hour when she saw, and loved, and wedded the painter. He, passionate, studious,
austere, and having already a bride in his Art; she a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more
lovely than full of glee; all light and smiles, and frolicsome as the young fawn; loving
and cherishing all things; hating only the Art which was her rival; dreading only the
pallet and brushes and other untoward instruments which deprived her of the countenance
of her lover. It was thus a terrible thing for this lady to hear the painter speak of his desire
to pourtray even his young bride. But she was humble and obedient, and sat meekly for
many weeks in the dark, high turret-chamber where the light dripped upon the pale
canvas only from overhead. But he, the painter, took glory in his work, which went on
from hour to hour, and from day to day. And be was a passionate, and wild, and moody
man, who became lost in reveries; so that he would not see that the light which fell so
ghastly in that lone turret withered the health and the spirits of his bride, who pined
visibly to all but him. Yet she smiled on and still on, uncomplainingly, because she saw
that the painter (who had high renown) took a fervid and burning pleasure in his task, and
wrought day and night to depict her who so loved him, yet who grew daily more
dispirited and weak. And in sooth some who beheld the portrait spoke of its resemblance
in low words, as of a mighty marvel, and a proof not less of the power of the painter than
of his deep love for her whom he depicted so surpassingly well. But at length, as the
labor drew nearer to its conclusion, there were admitted none into the turret; for the
painter had grown wild with the ardor of his work, and turned his eyes from canvas
merely, even to regard the countenance of his wife. And he would not see that the tints
which he spread upon the canvas were drawn from the cheeks of her who sate beside
him. And when many weeks bad passed, and but little remained to do, save one brush
upon the mouth and one tint upon the eye, the spirit of the lady again flickered up as the
flame within the socket of the lamp. And then the brush was given, and then the tint was

placed; and, for one moment, the painter stood entranced before the work which he had
wrought; but in the next, while he yet gazed, he grew tremulous and very pallid, and
aghast, and crying with a loud voice, 'This is indeed Life itself!' turned suddenly to regard
his beloved:-She was dead!

THE END

THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM

by Edgar Allan Poe

1842

Impia tortorum longos hie turba furores
Sanguinis innocui, non satiata, aluit.
Sospite nunc patria, fracto nunc funeris antra.
Mors ubi dirafuit vita salusque patent.

(Quatrain composed for the gates of a market to he erected upon
the site of the Jacobin Club House at Paris.)

I WAS sick —sick unto death with that long agony; and when they at length unbound me,
and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my senses were leaving me. The sentence —the dread
sentence of death —was the last of distinct accentuation which reached my ears. After
that, the sound of the inquisitorial voices seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminate
hum. It conveyed to my soul the idea of revolution -perhaps from its association in fancy
with the burr of a mill wheel. This only for a brief period; for presently I heard no more.
Yet, for a while, I saw; but with how terrible an exaggeration! I saw the lips of the black-
robed judges. They appeared to me white —whiter than the sheet upon which I trace these
words —and thin even to grotesqueness; thin with the intensity of their expression of
firmness —of immoveable resolution —of stern contempt of human torture. I saw that the
decrees of what to me was Fate, were still issuing from those lips. I saw them writhe with
a deadly locution. I saw them fashion the syllables of my name; and I shuddered because
no sound succeeded. I saw, too, for a few moments of delirious horror, the soft and nearly
imperceptible waving of the sable draperies which enwrapped the walls of the apartment.
And then my vision fell upon the seven tall candles upon the table. At first they wore the
aspect of charity, and seemed white and slender angels who would save me; but then, all
at once, there came a most deadly nausea over my spirit, and I felt every fibre in my
frame thrill as if I had touched the wire of a galvanic battery, while the angel forms
became meaningless spectres, with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would
be no help. And then there stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, the thought of
what sweet rest there must be in the grave. The thought came gently and stealthily, and it
seemed long before it attained full appreciation; but just as my spirit came at length
properly to feel and entertain it, the figures of the judges vanished, as if magically, from
before me; the tall candles sank into nothingness; their flames went out utterly; the
blackness of darkness supervened; all sensations appeared swallowed up in a mad rushing
descent as of the soul into Hades. Then silence, and stillness, night were the universe.

I had swooned; but still will not say that all of consciousness was lost. What of it there
remained I will not attempt to define, or even to describe; yet all was not lost. In the
deepest slumber —no! In delirium —no! In a swoon —no! In death —no! even in the grave

all is not lost. Else there is no immortality for man. Arousing from the most profound of
slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Yet in a second afterward, (so frail
may that web have been) we remember not that we have dreamed. In the return to life
from the swoon there are two stages; first, that of the sense of mental or spiritual;
secondly, that of the sense of physical, existence. It seems probable that if, upon reaching
the second stage, we could recall the impressions of the first, we should find these
impressions eloquent in memories of the gulf beyond. And that gulf is —what? How at
least shall we distinguish its shadows from those of the tomb? But if the impressions of
what I have termed the first stage, are not, at will, recalled, yet, after long interval, do
they not come unbidden, while we marvel whence they come? He who has never
swooned, is not he who finds strange palaces and wildly familiar faces in coals that glow;
is not he who beholds floating in mid-air the sad visions that the many may not view; is
not he who ponders over the perfume of some novel flower —is not he whose brain grows
bewildered with the meaning of some musical cadence which has never before arrested
his attention.

Amid frequent and thoughtful endeavors to remember; amid earnest struggles to regather
some token of the state of seeming nothingness into which my soul had lapsed, there have
been moments when I have dreamed of success; there have been brief, very brief periods
when I have conjured up remembrances which the lucid reason of a later epoch assures
me could have had reference only to that condition of seeming unconsciousness. These
shadows of memory tell, indistinctly, of tall figures that lifted and bore me in silence
down —down —still down -till a hideous dizziness oppressed me at the mere idea of the
interminableness of the descent. They tell also of a vague horror at my heart, on account
of that heart's unnatural stillness. Then comes a sense of sudden motionlessness
throughout all things; as if those who bore me (a ghastly train!) had outrun, in their
descent, the limits of the limitless, and paused from the wearisomeness of their toil. After
this I call to mind flatness and dampness; and then all is madness -the madness of a
memory which busies itself among forbidden things.

Very suddenly there came back to my soul motion and sound -the tumultuous motion of
the heart, and, in my ears, the sound of its beating. Then a pause in which all is blank.
Then again sound, and motion, and touch -a tingling sensation pervading my frame.
Then the mere consciousness of existence, without thought —a condition which lasted
long. Then, very suddenly, thought, and shuddering terror, and earnest endeavor to
comprehend my true state. Then a strong desire to lapse into insensibility. Then a rushing
revival of soul and a successful effort to move. And now a full memory of the trial, of the
judges, of the sable draperies, of the sentence, of the sickness, of the swoon. Then entire
forgetfulness of all that followed; of all that a later day and much earnestness of endeavor
have enabled me vaguely to recall.

So far, I had not opened my eyes. I felt that I lay upon my back, unbound. I reached out
my hand, and it fell heavily upon something damp and hard. There I suffered it to remain
for many minutes, while I strove to imagine where and what I could be. I longed, yet
dared not to employ my vision. I dreaded the first glance at objects around me. It was not
that I feared to look upon things horrible, but that I grew aghast lest there should be

nothing to see. At length, with a wild desperation at heart, I quickly unclosed my eyes.
My worst thoughts, then, were confirmed. The blackness of eternal night encompassed
me. I struggled for breath. The intensity of the darkness seemed to oppress and stifle me.
The atmosphere was intolerably close. I still lay quietly, and made effort to exercise my
reason. I brought to mind the inquisitorial proceedings, and attempted from that point to
deduce my real condition. The sentence had passed; and it appeared to me that a very
long interval of time had since elapsed. Yet not for a moment did I suppose myself
actually dead. Such a supposition, notwithstanding what we read in fiction, is altogether
inconsistent with real existence; —but where and in what state was I? The condemned to
death, I knew, perished usually at the autos-da-fe, and one of these had been held on the
very night of the day of my trial. Had I been remanded to my dungeon, to await the next
sacrifice, which would not take place for many months? This I at once saw could not be.
Victims had been in immediate demand. Moreover, my dungeon, as well as all the
condemned cells at Toledo, had stone floors, and light was not altogether excluded.

A fearful idea now suddenly drove the blood in torrents upon my heart, and for a brief
period, I once more relapsed into insensibility. Upon recovering, I at once started to my
feet, trembling convulsively in every fibre. I thrust my arms wildly above and around me
in all directions. I felt nothing; yet dreaded to move a step, lest I should be impeded by
the walls of a tomb. Perspiration burst from every pore, and stood in cold big beads upon
my forehead. The agony of suspense grew at length intolerable, and I cautiously moved
forward, with my arms extended, and my eyes straining from their sockets, in the hope of
catching some faint ray of light. I proceeded for many paces; but still all was blackness
and vacancy. I breathed more freely. It seemed evident that mine was not, at least, the
most hideous of fates.

And now, as I still continued to step cautiously onward, there came thronging upon my
recollection a thousand vague rumors of the horrors of Toledo. Of the dungeons there had
been strange things narrated -fables I had always deemed them —but yet strange, and too
ghastly to repeat, save in a whisper. Was I left to perish of starvation in this subterranean
world of darkness; or what fate, perhaps even more fearful, awaited me? That the result
would be death, and a death of more than customary bitterness, I knew too well the
character of my judges to doubt. The mode and the hour were all that occupied or
distracted me.

My outstretched hands at length encountered some solid obstruction. It was a wall,
seemingly of stone masonry —very smooth, slimy, and cold. I followed it up; stepping
with all the careful distrust with which certain antique narratives had inspired me. This
process, however, afforded me no means of ascertaining the dimensions of my dungeon;
as I might make its circuit, and return to the point whence I set out, without being aware
of the fact; so perfectly uniform seemed the wall. I therefore sought the knife which had
been in my pocket, when led into the inquisitorial chamber; but it was gone; my clothes
had been exchanged for a wrapper of coarse serge. I had thought of forcing the blade in
some minute crevice of the masonry, so as to identify my point of departure. The
difficulty, nevertheless, was but trivial; although, in the disorder of my fancy, it seemed
at first insuperable. I tore a part of the hem from the robe and placed the fragment at full

length, and at right angles to the wall. In groping my way around the prison, I could not
fail to encounter this rag upon completing the circuit. So, at least I thought: but I had not
counted upon the extent of the dungeon, or upon my own weakness. The ground was
moist and slippery. I staggered onward for some time, when I stumbled and fell. My
excessive fatigue induced me to remain prostrate; and sleep soon overtook me as I lay.

Upon awaking, and stretching forth an arm, I found beside me a loaf and a pitcher with
water. I was too much exhausted to reflect upon this circumstance, but ate and drank with
avidity. Shortly afterward, I resumed my tour around the prison, and with much toil came
at last upon the fragment of the serge. Up to the period when I fell I had counted fifty-two
paces, and upon resuming my walk, I had counted forty-eight more; —when I arrived at
the rag. There were in all, then, a hundred paces; and, admitting two paces to the yard, I
presumed the dungeon to be fifty yards in circuit. I had met, however, with many angles
in the wall, and thus I could form no guess at the shape of the vault; for vault I could not
help supposing it to be.

I had little object —certainly no hope these researches; but a vague curiosity prompted me
to continue them. Quitting the wall, I resolved to cross the area of the enclosure. At first I
proceeded with extreme caution, for the floor, although seemingly of solid material, was
treacherous with slime. At length, however, I took courage, and did not hesitate to step
firmly; endeavoring to cross in as direct a line as possible. I had advanced some ten or
twelve paces in this manner, when the remnant of the torn hem of my robe became
entangled between my legs. I stepped on it, and fell violently on my face.

In the confusion attending my fall, I did not immediately apprehend a somewhat startling
circumstance, which yet, in a few seconds afterward, and while I still lay prostrate,
arrested my attention. It was this —my chin rested upon the floor of the prison, but my
lips and the upper portion of my head, although seemingly at a less elevation than the
chin, touched nothing. At the same time my forehead seemed bathed in a clammy vapor,
and the peculiar smell of decayed fungus arose to my nostrils. I put forward my arm, and
shuddered to find that I had f Allan at the very brink of a circular pit, whose extent, of
course, I had no means of ascertaining at the moment. Groping about the masonry just
below the margin, I succeeded in dislodging a small fragment, and let it fall into the
abyss. For many seconds I hearkened to its reverberations as it dashed against the sides of
the chasm in its descent; at length there was a sullen plunge into water, succeeded by
loud echoes. At the same moment there came a sound resembling the quick opening, and
as rapid closing of a door overhead, while a faint gleam of light flashed suddenly through
the gloom, and as suddenly faded away.

I saw clearly the doom which had been prepared for me, and congratulated myself upon
the timely accident by which I had escaped. Another step before my fall, and the world
had seen me no more. And the death just avoided, was of that very character which I had
regarded as fabulous and frivolous in the tales respecting the Inquisition. To the victims
of its tyranny, there was the choice of death with its direst physical agonies, or death with
its most hideous moral horrors. I had been reserved for the latter. By long suffering my

nerves had been unstrang, until I trembled at the sound of my own voice, and had become
in every respect a fitting subject for the species of torture which awaited me.

Shaking in every limb, I groped my way back to the wall; resolving there to perish rather
than risk the terrors of the wells, of which my imagination now pictured many in various
positions about the dungeon. In other conditions of mind I might have had courage to end
my misery at once by a plunge into one of these abysses; but now I was the veriest of
cowards. Neither could I forget what I had read of these pits —that the sudden extinction
of life formed no part of their most horrible plan.

Agitation of spirit kept me awake for many long hours; but at length I again slumbered.
Upon arousing, I found by my side, as before, a loaf and a pitcher of water. A burning
thirst consumed me, and I emptied the vessel at a draught. It must have been drugged; for
scarcely had I drunk, before I became irresistibly drowsy. A deep sleep fell upon me —a
sleep like that of death. How long it lasted of course, I know not; but when, once again, I
unclosed my eyes, the objects around me were visible. By a wild sulphurous lustre, the
origin of which I could not at first determine, I was enabled to see the extent and aspect
of the prison.

In its size I had been greatly mistaken. The whole circuit of its walls did not exceed
twenty-five yards. For some minutes this fact occasioned me a world of vain trouble; vain
indeed! for what could be of less importance, under the terrible circumstances which
environed me, then the mere dimensions of my dungeon? But my soul took a wild
interest in trifles, and I busied myself in endeavors to account for the error I had
committed in my measurement. The truth at length flashed upon me. In my first attempt
at exploration I had counted fifty-two paces, up to the period when I fell; I must then
have been within a pace or two of the fragment of serge; in fact, I had nearly performed
the circuit of the vault. I then slept, and upon awaking, I must have returned upon my
steps —thus supposing the circuit nearly double what it actually was. My confusion of
mind prevented me from observing that I began my tour with the wall to the left, and
ended it with the wall to the right.

I had been deceived, too, in respect to the shape of the enclosure. In feeling my way I had
found many angles, and thus deduced an idea of great irregularity; so potent is the effect
of total darkness upon one arousing from lethargy or sleep! The angles were simply those
of a few slight depressions, or niches, at odd intervals. The general shape of the prison
was square. What I had taken for masonry seemed now to be iron, or some other metal, in
huge plates, whose sutures or joints occasioned the depression. The entire surface of this
metallic enclosure was rudely daubed in all the hideous and repulsive devices to which
the chamel superstition of the monks has given rise. The figures of fiends in aspects of
menace, with skeleton forms, and other more really fearful images, overspread and
disfigured the walls. I observed that the outlines of these monstrosities were sufficiently
distinct, but that the colors seemed faded and blurred, as if from the effects of a damp
atmosphere. I now noticed the floor, too, which was of stone. In the centre yawned the
circular pit from whose jaws I had escaped; but it was the only one in the dungeon.

All this I saw indistinctly and by much effort: for my personal condition had been greatly
changed during slumber. I now lay upon my back, and at full length, on a species of low
framework of wood. To this I was securely bound by a long strap resembling a surcingle.
It passed in many convolutions about my limbs and body, leaving at liberty only my
head, and my left arm to such extent that I could, by dint of much exertion, supply myself
with food from an earthen dish which lay by my side on the floor. I saw, to my horror,
that the pitcher had been removed. I say to my horror; for I was consumed with
intolerable thirst. This thirst it appeared to be the design of my persecutors to stimulate:
for the food in the dish was meat pungently seasoned.

Looking upward, I surveyed the ceiling of my prison. It was some thirty or forty feet
overhead, and constructed much as the side walls. In one of its panels a very singular
figure riveted my whole attention. It was the painted figure of Time as he is commonly
represented, save that, in lieu of a scythe, he held what, at a casual glance, I supposed to
be the pictured image of a huge pendulum such as we see on antique clocks. There was
something, however, in the appearance of this machine which caused me to regard it
more attentively. While I gazed directly upward at it (for its position was immediately
over my own) I fancied that I saw it in motion. In an instant afterward the fancy was
confirmed. Its sweep was brief, and of course slow. I watched it for some minutes,
somewhat in fear, but more in wonder. Wearied at length with observing its dull
movement, I turned my eyes upon the other objects in the cell.

A slight noise attracted my notice, and, looking to the floor, I saw several enormous rats
traversing it. They had issued from the well, which lay just within view to my right. Even
then, while I gazed, they came up in troops, hurriedly, with ravenous eyes, allured by the
scent of the meat. From this it required much effort and attention to scare them away.

It might have been half an hour, perhaps even an hour, (for in cast my I could take but
imperfect note of time) before I again cast my eyes upward. What I then saw confounded
and amazed me. The sweep of the pendulum had increased in extent by nearly a yard. As
a natural consequence, its velocity was also much greater. But what mainly disturbed me
was the idea that had perceptibly descended. I now observed -with what horror it is
needless to say —that its nether extremity was formed of a crescent of glittering steel,
about a foot in length from horn to horn; the horns upward, and the under edge evidently
as keen as that of a razor. Like a razor also, it seemed massy and heavy, tapering from the
edge into a solid and broad structure above. It was appended to a weighty rod of brass,
and the whole hissed as it swung through the air.

I could no longer doubt the doom prepared for me by monkish ingenuity in torture. My
cognizance of the pit had become known to the inquisitorial agents —the pit whose
horrors had been destined for so bold a recusant as myself -the pit, typical of hell, and
regarded by rumor as the Ultima Thule of all their punishments. The plunge into this pit I
had avoided by the merest of accidents, I knew that surprise, or entrapment into torment,
formed an important portion of all the grotesquerie of these dungeon deaths. Having
failed to fall, it was no part of the demon plan to hurl me into the abyss; and thus (there

being no alternative) a different and a milder destruction awaited me. Milder! I half
smiled in my agony as I thought of such application of such a term.

What boots it to tell of the long, long hours of horror more than mortal, during which I
counted the rushing vibrations of the steel! Inch by inch —line by line —with a descent
only appreciable at intervals that seemed ages —down and still down it came! Days
passed —it might have been that many days passed —ere it swept so closely over me as to
fan me with its acrid breath. The odor of the sharp steel forced itself into my nostrils. I
prayed —I wearied heaven with my prayer for its more speedy descent. I grew frantically
mad, and struggled to force myself upward against the sweep of the fearful scimitar. And
then I fell suddenly calm, and lay smiling at the glittering death, as a child at some rare
bauble.

There was another interval of utter insensibility; it was brief; for, upon again lapsing into
life there had been no perceptible descent in the pendulum. But it might have been long;
for I knew there were demons who took note of my swoon, and who could have arrested
the vibration at pleasure. Upon my recovery, too, I felt very -oh, inexpressibly sick and
weak, as if through long inanition. Even amid the agonies of that period, the human
nature craved food. With painful effort I outstretched my left arm as far as my bonds
permitted, and took possession of the small remnant which had been spared me by the
rats. As I put a portion of it within my lips, there rushed to my mind a half formed
thought of joy —of hope. Yet what business had I with hope? It was, as I say, a half
formed thought —man has many such which are never completed. I felt that it was of joy -
-of hope; but felt also that it had perished in its formation. In vain I struggled to perfect —
to regain it. Long suffering had nearly annihilated all my ordinary powers of mind. I was
an imbecile —an idiot.

The vibration of the pendulum was at right angles to my length. I saw that the crescent
was designed to cross the region of the heart. It would fray the serge of my robe —it
would return and repeat its operations —again —and again. Notwithstanding terrifically
wide sweep (some thirty feet or more) and the its hissing vigor of its descent, sufficient to
sunder these very walls of iron, still the fraying of my robe would be all that, for several
minutes, it would accomplish. And at this thought I paused. I dared not go farther than
this reflection. I dwelt upon it with a pertinacity of attention —as if, in so dwelling, I
could arrest here the descent of the steel. I forced myself to ponder upon the sound of the
crescent as it should pass across the garment —upon the peculiar thrilling sensation which
the friction of cloth produces on the nerves. I pondered upon all this frivolity until my
teeth were on edge.

Down —steadily down it crept. I took a frenzied pleasure in contrasting its downward
with its lateral velocity. To the right —to the left —far and wide —with the shriek of a
damned spirit; to my heart with the stealthy pace of the tiger! I alternately laughed and
howled as the one or the other idea grew predominant.

Down —certainly, relentlessly down! It vibrated within three inches of my bosom! I
struggled violently, furiously, to free my left arm. This was free only from the elbow to

the hand. I could reach the latter, from the platter beside me, to my mouth, with great
effort, but no farther. Could I have broken the fastenings above the elbow, I would have
seized and attempted to arrest the pendulum. I might as well have attempted to arrest an
avalanche!

Down —still unceasingly —still inevitably down! I gasped and struggled at each vibration.
I shrunk convulsively at its every sweep. My eyes followed its outward or upward whirls
with the eagerness of the most unmeaning despair; they closed themselves spasmodically
at the descent, although death would have been a relief, oh! how unspeakable! Still I
quivered in every nerve to think how slight a sinking of the machinery would precipitate
that keen, glistening axe upon my bosom. It was hope that prompted the nerve to quiver -
-the frame to shrink. It was hope —the hope that triumphs on the rack —that whispers to
the death-condemned even in the dungeons of the Inquisition.

I saw that some ten or twelve vibrations would bring the steel in actual contact with my
robe, and with this observation there suddenly came over my spirit all the keen, collected
calmness of despair. For the first time during many hours —or perhaps days —I thought. It
now occurred to me that the bandage, or surcingle, which enveloped me, was unique. I
was tied by no separate cord. The first stroke of the razorlike crescent athwart any portion
of the band, would so detach it that it might be unwound from my person by means of my
left hand. But how fearful, in that case, the proximity of the steel! The result of the
slightest struggle how deadly! Was it likely, moreover, that the minions of the torturer
had not foreseen and provided for this possibility! Was it probable that the bandage
crossed my bosom in the track of the pendulum? Dreading to find my faint, and, as it
seemed, in last hope frustrated, I so far elevated my head as to obtain a distinct view of
my breast. The surcingle enveloped my limbs and body close in all directions— save in the
path of the destroying crescent.

Scarcely had I dropped my head back into its original position, when there flashed upon
my mind what I cannot better describe than as the unformed half of that idea of
deliverance to which I have previously alluded, and of which a moiety only floated
indeterminately through my brain when I raised food to my burning lips. The whole
thought was now present -feeble, scarcely sane, scarcely definite, —but still entire. I
proceeded at once, with the nervous energy of despair, to attempt its execution.

For many hours the immediate vicinity of the low framework upon which I lay, had been
literally swarming with rats. They were wild, bold, ravenous; their red eyes glaring upon
me as if they waited but for motionlessness on my part to make me their prey. "To what
food," I thought, "have they been accustomed in the well?"

They had devoured, in spite of all my efforts to prevent them, all but a small remnant of
the contents of the dish. I had f Allan into an habitual see-saw, or wave of the hand about
the platter: and, at length, the unconscious uniformity of the movement deprived it of
effect. In their voracity the vermin frequently fastened their sharp fangs in my fingers.
With the particles of the oily and spicy viand which now remained, I thoroughly rubbed

the bandage wherever I could reach it; then, raising my hand from the floor, I lay
breathlessly still.

At first the ravenous animals were startled and terrified at the change —at the cessation of
movement. They shrank alarmedly back; many sought the well. But this was only for a
moment. I had not counted in vain upon their voracity. Observing that I remained without
motion, one or two of the boldest leaped upon the frame-work, and smelt at the surcingle.
This seemed the signal for a general rush. Forth from the well they hurried in fresh
troops. They clung to the wood -they overran it, and leaped in hundreds upon my person.
The measured movement of the pendulum disturbed them not at all. Avoiding its strokes
they busied themselves with the anointed bandage. They pressed —they swarmed upon
me in ever accumulating heaps. They writhed upon my throat; their cold lips sought my
own; I was half stifled by their thronging pressure; disgust, for which the world has no
name, swelled my bosom, and chilled, with a heavy clamminess, my heart. Yet one
minute, and I felt that the struggle would be over. Plainly I perceived the loosening of the
bandage. I knew that in more than one place it must be already severed. With a more than
human resolution I lay still.

Nor had I erred in my calculations —nor had I endured in vain. I at length felt that I was
free. The surcingle hung in ribands from my body. But the stroke of the pendulum
already pressed upon my bosom. It had divided the serge of the robe. It had cut through
the linen beneath. Twice again it swung, and a sharp sense of pain shot through every
nerve. But the moment of escape had arrived. At a wave of my hand my deliverers
hurried tumultuously away. With a steady movement —cautious, sidelong, shrinking, and
slow —I slid from the embrace of the bandage and beyond the reach of the scimitar. For
the moment, at least, I was free.

Free! -and in the grasp of the Inquisition! I had scarcely stepped from my wooden bed of
horror upon the stone floor of the prison, when the motion of the hellish machine ceased
and I beheld it drawn up, by some invisible force, through the ceiling. This was a lesson
which I took desperately to heart. My every motion was undoubtedly watched. Free! —I
had but escaped death in one form of agony, to be delivered unto worse than death in
some other. With that thought I rolled my eves nervously around on the barriers of iron
that hemmed me in. Something unusual -some change which, at first, I could not
appreciate distinctly —it was obvious, had taken place in the apartment. For many
minutes of a dreamy and trembling abstraction, I busied myself in vain, unconnected
conjecture. During this period, I became aware, for the first time, of the origin of the
sulphurous light which illumined the cell. It proceeded from a fissure, about half an inch
in width, extending entirely around the prison at the base of the walls, which thus
appeared, and were, completely separated from the floor. I endeavored, but of course in
vain, to look through the aperture.

As I arose from the attempt, the mystery of the alteration in the chamber broke at once
upon my understanding. I have observed that, although the outlines of the figures upon
the walls were sufficiently distinct, yet the colors seemed blurred and indefinite. These
colors had now assumed, and were momentarily assuming, a startling and most intense

brilliancy, that gave to the spectral and fiendish portraitures an aspect that might have
thrilled even firmer nerves than my own. Demon eyes, of a wild and ghastly vivacity,
glared upon me in a thousand directions, where none had been visible before, and
gleamed with the lurid lustre of a fire that I could not force my imagination to regard as
unreal.

Unreal! —Even while I breathed there came to my nostrils the breath of the vapour of
heated iron! A suffocating odour pervaded the prison! A deeper glow settled each
moment in the eyes that glared at my agonies! A richer tint of crimson diffused itself over
the pictured horrors of blood. I panted! I gasped for breath! There could be no doubt of
the design of my tormentors —oh! most unrelenting! oh! most demoniac of men! I shrank
from the glowing metal to the centre of the cell. Amid the thought of the fiery destruction
that impended, the idea of the coolness of the well came over my soul like balm. I rushed
to its deadly brink. I threw my straining vision below. The glare from the enkindled roof
illumined its inmost recesses. Yet, for a wild moment, did my spirit refuse to comprehend
the meaning of what I saw. At length it forced —it wrestled its way into my soul -it
burned itself in upon my shuddering reason. —Oh! for a voice to speak! —oh! horror! —
oh! any horror but this! With a shriek, I rushed from the margin, and buried my face in
my hands —weeping bitterly.

The heat rapidly increased, and once again I looked up, shuddering as with a fit of the
ague. There had been a second change in the cell -and now the change was obviously in
the form. As before, it was in vain that I, at first, endeavoured to appreciate or understand
what was taking place. But not long was I left in doubt. The Inquisitorial vengeance had
been hurried by my two-fold escape, and there was to be no more dallying with the King
of Terrors. The room had been square. I saw that two of its iron angles were now acute —
two, consequently, obtuse. The fearful difference quickly increased with a low rumbling
or moaning sound. In an instant the apartment had shifted its form into that of a lozenge.
But the alteration stopped not here-I neither hoped nor desired it to stop. I could have
clasped the red walls to my bosom as a garment of eternal peace. "Death," I said, "any
death but that of the pit!" Fool! might I have not known that into the pit it was the object
of the burning iron to urge me? Could I resist its glow? or, if even that, could I withstand
its pressure And now, flatter and flatter grew the lozenge, with a rapidity that left me no
time for contemplation. Its centre, and of course, its greatest width, came just over the
yawning gulf. I shrank back -but the closing walls pressed me resistlessly onward. At
length for my seared and writhing body there was no longer an inch of foothold on the
firm floor of the prison. I struggled no more, but the agony of my soul found vent in one
loud, long, and final scream of despair. I felt that I tottered upon the brink —I averted my
eyes —

There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of many
trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The fiery walls rushed
back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell, fainting, into the abyss. It was that of
General Lasalle. The French army had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands
of its enemies.

THE POWER OF WORDS

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

OINOS. Pardon, Agathos, the weakness of a spirit new-fledged with immortality!

AGATHOS. You have spoken nothing, my Oinos, for which pardon is to be demanded.
Not even here is knowledge thing of intuition. For wisdom, ask of the angels freely, that
it maybe given!

OINOS. But in this existence, I dreamed that I should be at once cognizant of all things,
and thus at once be happy in being cognizant of all.

AGATHOS. Ah, not in knowledge is happiness, but in the acquisition of knowledge! In
for ever knowing, we are for ever blessed; but to know all were the curse of a fiend.

OINOS. But does not The Most High know all?

AGATHOS. That (since he is The Most Happy) must be still the one thing unknown even
to Him.

OINOS. But, since we grow hourly in knowledge, must not at last all things be known?

AGATHOS. Look down into the abysmal distances !-attempt to force the gaze down the
multitudinous vistas of the stars, as we sweep slowly through them thus-and thus-and
thus! Even the spiritual vision, is it not at all points arrested by the continuous golden
walls of the universe?-the walls of the myriads of the shining bodies that mere number
has appeared to blend into unity?

OINOS. I clearly perceive that the infinity of matter is no dream.

AGATHOS. There are no dreams in Aidenn-but it is here whispered that, of this infinity
of matter, the sole purpose is to afford infinite springs, at which the soul may allay the
thirst to know, which is for ever unquenchable within it-since to quench it, would be to
extinguish the soul's self. Question me then, my Oinos, freely and without fear. Come!
we will leave to the left the loud harmony of the Pleiades, and swoop outward from the
throne into the starry meadows beyond Orion, where, for pansies and violets, and heart's-
ease, are the beds of the triplicate and triple-tinted suns.

OINOS. And now, Agathos, as we proceed, instruct me!-speak to me in the earth's
familiar tones. I understand not what you hinted to me, just now, of the modes or of the

method of what, during mortality, we were accustomed to call Creation. Do you mean to
say that the Creator is not God?

AGATHOS. I mean to say that the Deity does not create.

OINOS. Explain.

AGATHOS. In the beginning only, he created. The seeming creatures which are now,
throughout the universe, so perpetually springing into being, can only be considered as
the mediate or indirect, not as the direct or immediate results of the Divine creative
power.

OINOS. Among men, my Agathos, this idea would be considered heretical in the
extreme.

AGATHOS. Among angels, my Oinos, it is seen to be simply true.

OINOS. I can comprehend you thus far-that certain operations of what we term Nature,
or the natural laws, will, under certain conditions, give rise to that which has all the
appearance of creation. Shortly before the final overthrow of the earth, there were, I well
remember, many very successful experiments in what some philosophers were weak
enough to denominate the creation of animalculae.

AGATHOS. The cases of which you speak were, in fact, instances of the secondary
creation-and of the only species of creation which has ever been, since the first word
spoke into existence the first law.

OINOS. Are not the starry worlds that, from the abyss of nonentity, burst hourly forth
into the heavens-are not these stars, Agathos, the immediate handiwork of the King?

AGATHOS. Let me endeavor, my Oinos, to lead you, step by step, to the conception I
intend. You are well aware that, as no thought can perish, so no act is without infinite
result. We moved our hands, for example, when we were dwellers on the earth, and, in so
doing, gave vibration to the atmosphere which engirdled it. This vibration was
indefinitely extended, till it gave impulse to every particle of the earth's air, which
thenceforward, and for ever, was actuated by the one movement of the hand. This fact the
mathematicians of our globe well knew. They made the special effects, indeed, wrought
in the fluid by special impulses, the subject of exact calculation-so that it became easy to
determine in what precise period an impulse of given extent would engirdle the orb, and
impress (for ever) every atom of the atmosphere circumambient. Retrograding, they
found no difficulty, from a given effect, under given conditions, in determining the value
of the original impulse. Now the mathematicians who saw that the results of any given
impulse were absolutely endless-and who saw that a portion of these results were
accurately traceable through the agency of algebraic analysis-who saw, too, the facility
of the retrogradation-these men saw, at the same time, that this species of analysis itself,
had within itself a capacity for indefinite progress-that there were no bounds conceivable

to its advancement and applicability, except within the intellect of him who advanced or
applied it. But at this point our mathematicians paused.

OINOS. And why, Agathos, should they have proceeded?

AGATHOS. Because there were some considerations of deep interest beyond. It was
deducible from what they knew, that to a being of infinite understanding-one to whom
the perfection of the algebraic analysis lay unfolded-there could be no difficulty in
tracing every impulse given the air-and the ether through the air-to the remotest
consequences at any even infinitely remote epoch of time. It is indeed demonstrable that
every such impulse given the air, must, in the end, impress every individual thing that
exists within the universe;-and the being of infinite understanding-the being whom we
have imagined-might trace the remote undulations of the impulse- trace them upward and
onward in their influences upon all particles of an matter-upward and onward for ever in
their modifications of old forms-or, in other words, in their creation of new-until he
found them reflected-unimpressive at last-back from the throne of the Godhead. And not
only could such a thing do this, but at any epoch, should a given result be afforded him-
should one of these numberless comets, for example, be presented to his inspection-he
could have no difficulty in determining, by the analytic retrogradation, to what original
impulse it was due. This power of retrogradation in its absolute fulness and perfection-
this faculty of referring at all epochs, all effects to all causes-is of course the prerogative
of the Deity alone-but in every variety of degree, short of the absolute perfection, is the
power itself exercised by the whole host of the Angelic intelligences.

OINOS. But you speak merely of impulses upon the air.

AGATHOS. In speaking of the air, I referred only to the earth; but the general
proposition has reference to impulses upon the ether- which, since it pervades, and alone
pervades all space, is thus the great medium of creation.

OINOS. Then all motion, of whatever nature, creates?

AGATHOS. It must: but a true philosophy has long taught that the source of all motion is
thought-and the source of all thought is-

OINOS. God.

AGATHOS. I have spoken to you, Oinos, as to a child of the fair Earth which lately
perished-of impulses upon the atmosphere of the Earth.

OINOS. You did.

AGATHOS. And while I thus spoke, did there not cross your mind some thought of the
physical power of words? Is not every word an impulse on the air?

OINOS. But why, Agathos, do you weep-and why, oh why do your wings droop as we
hover above this fair star-which is the greenest and yet most terrible of all we have
encountered in our flight? Its brilliant flowers look like a fairy dream-but its fierce
volcanoes like the passions of a turbulent heart.

AGATHOS. They are!-they are! This wild star-it is now three centuries since, with
clasped hands, and with streaming eyes, at the feet of my beloved-I spoke it-with a few
passionate sentences- into birth. Its brilliant flowers are the dearest of all unfulfilled
dreams, and its raging volcanoes are the passions of the most turbulent and unhallowed of
hearts.

THE END

THE PREMATURE BURIAL

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

THERE are certain themes of which the interest is all-absorbing, but which are too
entirely horrible for the purposes of legitimate fiction. These the mere romanticist must
eschew, if he do not wish to offend or to disgust. They are with propriety handled only
when the severity and majesty of Truth sanctify and sustain them. We thrill, for example,
with the most intense of "pleasurable pain" over the accounts of the Passage of the
Beresina, of the Earthquake at Lisbon, of the Plague at London, of the Massacre of St.
Bartholomew, or of the stifling of the hundred and twenty-three prisoners in the Black
Hole at Calcutta. But in these accounts it is the fact-it is the reality-it is the history which
excites. As inventions, we should regard them with simple abhorrence.

I have mentioned some few of the more prominent and august calamities on record; but
in these it is the extent, not less than the character of the calamity, which so vividly
impresses the fancy. I need not remind the reader that, from the long and weird catalogue
of human miseries, I might have selected many individual instances more replete with
essential suffering than any of these vast generalities of disaster. The true wretchedness,
indeed-the ultimate woe-is particular, not diffuse. That the ghastly extremes of agony are
endured by man the unit, and never by man the mass-for this let us thank a merciful God!

To be buried while alive is, beyond question, the most terrific of these extremes which
has ever fAUan to the lot of mere mortality. That it has frequently, very frequently, so
f Allan will scarcely be denied by those who think. The boundaries which divide Life
from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where
the other begins? We know that there are diseases in which occur total cessations of all
the apparent functions of vitality, and yet in which these cessations are merely
suspensions, properly so called. They are only temporary pauses in the incomprehensible
mechanism. A certain period elapses, and some unseen mysterious principle again sets in
motion the magic pinions and the wizard wheels. The silver cord was not for ever loosed,
nor the golden bowl irreparably broken. But where, meantime, was the soul?

Apart, however, from the inevitable conclusion, a priori that such causes must produce
such effects-that the well-known occurrence of such cases of suspended animation must
naturally give rise, now and then, to premature interments-apart from this consideration,
we have the direct testimony of medical and ordinary experience to prove that a vast
number of such interments have actually taken place. I might refer at once, if necessary to
a hundred well authenticated instances. One of very remarkable character, and of which
the circumstances may be fresh in the memory of some of my readers, occurred, not very
long ago, in the neighboring city of Baltimore, where it occasioned a painful, intense, and
widely-extended excitement. The wife of one of the most respectable citizens-a lawyer of

eminence and a member of Congress-was seized with a sudden and unaccountable
illness, which completely baffled the skill of her physicians. After much suffering she
died, or was supposed to die. No one suspected, indeed, or had reason to suspect, that she
was not actually dead. She presented all the ordinary appearances of death. The face
assumed the usual pinched and sunken outline. The lips were of the usual marble pallor.
The eyes were lustreless. There was no warmth. Pulsation had ceased. For three days the
body was preserved unburied, during which it had acquired a stony rigidity. The funeral,
in short, was hastened, on account of the rapid advance of what was supposed to be
decomposition.

The lady was deposited in her family vault, which, for three subsequent years, was
undisturbed. At the expiration of this term it was opened for the reception of a
sarcophagus ;-but, alas! how fearful a shock awaited the husband, who, personally, threw
open the door! As its portals swung outwardly back, some white-apparelled object fell
rattling within his arms. It was the skeleton of his wife in her yet unmoulded shroud.

A careful investigation rendered it evident that she had revived within two days after her
entombment; that her struggles within the coffin had caused it to fall from a ledge, or
shelf to the floor, where it was so broken as to permit her escape. A lamp which had been
accidentally left, full of oil, within the tomb, was found empty; it might have been
exhausted, however, by evaporation. On the uttermost of the steps which led down into
the dread chamber was a large fragment of the coffin, with which, it seemed, that she had
endeavored to arrest attention by striking the iron door. While thus occupied, she
probably swooned, or possibly died, through sheer terror; and, in failing, her shroud
became entangled in some iron- work which projected interiorly. Thus she remained, and
thus she rotted, erect.

In the year 1810, a case of living inhumation happened in France, attended with
circumstances which go far to warrant the assertion that truth is, indeed, stranger than
fiction. The heroine of the story was a Mademoiselle Victorine Lafourcade, a young girl
of illustrious family, of wealth, and of great personal beauty. Among her numerous
suitors was Julien Bossuet, a poor litterateur, or journalist of Paris. His talents and
general amiability had recommended him to the notice of the heiress, by whom he seems
to have been truly beloved; but her pride of birth decided her, finally, to reject him, and to
wed a Monsieur Renelle, a banker and a diplomatist of some eminence. After marriage,
however, this gentleman neglected, and, perhaps, even more positively ill-treated her.
Having passed with him some wretched years, she died,-at least her condition so closely
resembled death as to deceive every one who saw her. She was buried-not in a vault, but
in an ordinary grave in the village of her nativity. Filled with despair, and still inflamed
by the memory of a profound attachment, the lover journeys from the capital to the
remote province in which the village lies, with the romantic purpose of disinterring the
corpse, and possessing himself of its luxuriant tresses. He reaches the grave. At midnight
he unearths the coffin, opens it, and is in the act of detaching the hair, when he is arrested
by the unclosing of the beloved eyes. In fact, the lady had been buried alive. Vitality had
not altogether departed, and she was aroused by the caresses of her lover from the
lethargy which had been mistaken for death. He bore her frantically to his lodgings in the

village. He employed certain powerful restoratives suggested by no little medical
learning. In fine, she revived. She recognized her preserver. She remained with him until,
by slow degrees, she fully recovered her original health. Her woman's heart was not
adamant, and this last lesson of love sufficed to soften it. She bestowed it upon Bossuet.
She returned no more to her husband, but, concealing from him her resurrection, fled
with her lover to America. Twenty years afterward, the two returned to France, in the
persuasion that time had so greatly altered the lady's appearance that her friends would be
unable to recognize her. They were mistaken, however, for, at the first meeting. Monsieur
Renelle did actually recognize and make claim to his wife. This claim she resisted, and a
judicial tribunal sustained her in her resistance, deciding that the peculiar circumstances,
with the long lapse of years, had extinguished, not only equitably, but legally, the
authority of the husband.

The "Chirurgical Journal" of Leipsic-a periodical of high authority and merit, which
some American bookseller would do well to translate and republish, records in a late
number a very distressing event of the character in question.

An officer of artillery, a man of gigantic stature and of robust health, being thrown from
an unmanageable horse, received a very severe contusion upon the head, which rendered
him insensible at once; the skull was slightly fractured, but no immediate danger was
apprehended. Trepanning was accomplished successfully. He was bled, and many other
of the ordinary means of relief were adopted. Gradually, however, he fell into a more and
more hopeless state of stupor, and, finally, it was thought that he died.

The weather was warm, and he was buried with indecent haste in one of the public
cemeteries. His funeral took place on Thursday. On the Sunday following, the grounds of
the cemetery were, as usual, much thronged with visiters, and about noon an intense
excitement was created by the declaration of a peasant that, while sitting upon the grave
of the officer, he had distinctly felt a commotion of the earth, as if occasioned by some
one struggling beneath. At first little attention was paid to the man's asseveration; but his
evident terror, and the dogged obstinacy with which he persisted in his story, had at
length their natural effect upon the crowd. Spades were hurriedly procured, and the grave,
which was shamefully shallow, was in a few minutes so far thrown open that the head of
its occupant appeared. He was then seemingly dead; but he sat nearly erect within his
coffin, the lid of which, in his furious struggles, he had partially uplifted.

He was forthwith conveyed to the nearest hospital, and there pronounced to be still living,
although in an asphytic condition. After some hours he revived, recognized individuals of
his acquaintance, and, in broken sentences spoke of his agonies in the grave.

From what he related, it was clear that he must have been conscious of life for more than
an hour, while inhumed, before lapsing into insensibility. The grave was carelessly and
loosely filled with an exceedingly porous soil; and thus some air was necessarily
admitted. He heard the footsteps of the crowd overhead, and endeavored to make himself
heard in turn. It was the tumult within the grounds of the cemetery, he said, which

appeared to awaken him from a deep sleep, but no sooner was he awake than he became
fully aware of the awful horrors of his position.

This patient, it is recorded, was doing well and seemed to be in a fair way of ultimate
recovery, but fell a victim to the quackeries of medical experiment. The galvanic battery
was applied, and he suddenly expired in one of those ecstatic paroxysms which,
occasionally, it superinduces.

The mention of the galvanic battery, nevertheless, recalls to my memory a well known
and very extraordinary case in point, where its action proved the means of restoring to
animation a young attorney of London, who had been interred for two days. This
occurred in

1831, and created, at the time, a very profound sensation wherever it was made the

subject of converse.

The patient, Mr. Edward Stapleton, had died, apparently of typhus fever, accompanied
with some anomalous symptoms which had excited the curiosity of his medical
attendants. Upon his seeming decease, his friends were requested to sanction a post-
mortem examination, but declined to permit it. As often happens, when such refusals are
made, the practitioners resolved to disinter the body and dissect it at leisure, in private.
Arrangements were easily effected with some of the numerous corps of body-snatchers,
with which London abounds; and, upon the third night after the funeral, the supposed
corpse was unearthed from a grave eight feet deep, and deposited in the opening chamber

of one of the private hospitals.

An incision of some extent had been actually made in the abdomen, when the fresh and

undecayed appearance of the subject suggested an application of the battery. One

experiment succeeded another, and the customary effects supervened, with nothing to

characterize them in any respect, except, upon one or two occasions, a more than

ordinary degree of life-likeness in the convulsive action.

It grew late. The day was about to dawn; and it was thought expedient, at length, to
proceed at once to the dissection. A student, however, was especially desirous of testing a
theory of his own, and insisted upon applying the battery to one of the pectoral muscles.
A rough gash was made, and a wire hastily brought in contact, when the patient, with a
hurried but quite unconvulsive movement, arose from the table, stepped into the middle
of the floor, gazed about him uneasily for a few seconds, and then-spoke. What he said
was unintelligible, but words were uttered; the syllabification was distinct. Having

spoken, he fell heavily to the floor.

For some moments all were paralyzed with awe-but the urgency of the case soon restored
them their presence of mind. It was seen that Mr. Stapleton was alive, although in a

swoon. Upon exhibition of ether he revived and was rapidly restored to health, and to the
society of his friends-from whom, however, all knowledge of his resuscitation was

withheld, until a relapse was no longer to be apprehended. Their wonder-their rapturous

astonishment-may be conceived.

The most thrilling peculiarity of this incident, nevertheless, is involved in what Mr. S.
himself asserts. He declares that at no period was he altogether insensible-that, dully and

confusedly, he was aware of everything which happened to him, from the moment in

which he was pronounced dead by his physicians, to that in which he fell swooning to the

floor of the hospital. "I am alive," were the uncomprehended words which, upon

recognizing the locality of the dissecting-room, he had endeavored, in his extremity, to

utter.

It were an easy matter to multiply such histories as these-but I forbear-for, indeed, we

have no need of such to establish the fact that premature interments occur. When we

reflect how very rarely, from the nature of the case, we have it in our power to detect

them, we must admit that they may frequently occur without our cognizance. Scarcely, in

truth, is a graveyard ever encroached upon, for any purpose, to any great extent, that

skeletons are not found in postures which suggest the most fearful of suspicions.

Fearful indeed the suspicion-but more fearful the doom! It may be asserted, without

hesitation, that no event is so terribly well adapted to inspire the supremeness of bodily

and of mental distress, as is burial before death. The unendurable oppression of the lungs-

the stifling fumes from the damp earth-the clinging to the death garments-the rigid

embrace of the narrow house-the blackness of the absolute Night-the silence like a sea

that overwhelms-the unseen but palpable presence of the Conqueror Worm-these things,

with the thoughts of the air and grass above, with memory of dear friends who would fly

to save us if but informed of our fate, and with consciousness that of this fate they can

never be informed-that our hopeless portion is that of the really dead-these

considerations, I say, carry into the heart, which still palpitates, a degree of appalling and

intolerable horror from which the most daring imagination must recoil. We know of

nothing so agonizing upon Earth- we can dream of nothing half so hideous in the realms

of the nethermost Hell. And thus all narratives upon this topic have an interest profound;

an interest, nevertheless, which, through the sacred awe of the topic itself, very properly

and very peculiarly depends upon our conviction of the truth of the matter narrated. What

I have now to tell is of my own actual knowledge-of my own positive and personal

experience.

For several years I had been subject to attacks of the singular disorder which physicians

have agreed to term catalepsy, in default of a more definitive title. Although both the

immediate and the predisposing causes, and even the actual diagnosis, of this disease are

still mysterious, its obvious and apparent character is sufficiently well understood. Its

variations seem to be chiefly of degree. Sometimes the patient lies, for a day only, or

even for a shorter period, in a species of exaggerated lethargy. He is senseless and

externally motionless; but the pulsation of the heart is still faintly perceptible; some

traces of warmth remain; a slight color lingers within the centre of the cheek; and, upon

application of a mirror to the lips, we can detect a torpid, unequal, and vacillating action

of the lungs. Then again the duration of the trance is for weeks-even for months; while

the closest scrutiny, and the most rigorous medical tests, fail to establish any material

distinction between the state of the sufferer and what we conceive of absolute death. Very

usually he is saved from premature interment solely by the knowledge of his friends that

he has been previously subject to catalepsy, by the consequent suspicion excited, and,

above all, by the non-appearance of decay. The advances of the malady are, luckily,

gradual. The first manifestations, although marked, are unequivocal. The fits grow

successively more and more distinctive, and endure each for a longer term than the

preceding. In this lies the principal security from inhumation. The unfortunate whose first

attack should be of the extreme character which is occasionally seen, would almost

inevitably be consigned alive to the tomb.

My own case differed in no important particular from those mentioned in medical books.

Sometimes, without any apparent cause, I sank, little by little, into a condition of hemi-

syncope, or half swoon; and, in this condition, without pain, without ability to stir, or,

strictly speaking, to think, but with a dull lethargic consciousness of life and of the

presence of those who surrounded my bed, I remained, until the crisis of the disease

restored me, suddenly, to perfect sensation. At other times I was quickly and impetuously

smitten. I grew sick, and numb, and chilly, and dizzy, and so fell prostrate at once. Then,

for weeks, all was void, and black, and silent, and Nothing became the universe. Total

annihilation could be no more. From these latter attacks I awoke, however, with a

gradation slow in proportion to the suddenness of the seizure. Just as the day dawns to the

friendless and houseless beggar who roams the streets throughout the long desolate

winter night-just so tardily- just so wearily-just so cheerily came back the light of the

Soul to me.

Apart from the tendency to trance, however, my general health appeared to be good; nor
could I perceive that it was at all affected by the one prevalent malady-unless, indeed, an
idiosyncrasy in my ordinary sleep may be looked upon as superinduced. Upon awaking
from slumber, I could never gain, at once, thorough possession of my senses, and always
remained, for many minutes, in much bewilderment and perplexity ;-the mental faculties
in general, but the memory in especial, being in a condition of absolute abeyance.

In all that I endured there was no physical suffering but of moral distress an infinitude.

My fancy grew charnel, I talked "of worms, of tombs, and epitaphs." I was lost in

reveries of death, and the idea of premature burial held continual possession of my brain.

The ghastly Danger to which I was subjected haunted me day and night. In the former,

the torture of meditation was excessive-in the latter, supreme. When the grim Darkness

overspread the Earth, then, with every horror of thought, I shook-shook as the quivering

plumes upon the hearse. When Nature could endure wakefulness no longer, it was with a

struggle that I consented to sleep-for I shuddered to reflect that, upon awaking, I might

find myself the tenant of a grave. And when, finally, I sank into slumber, it was only to

rush at once into a world of phantasms, above which, with vast, sable, overshadowing

wing, hovered, predominant, the one sepulchral Idea.

From the innumerable images of gloom which thus oppressed me in dreams, I select for
record but a solitary vision. Methought I was immersed in a cataleptic trance of more

than usual duration and profundity. Suddenly there came an icy hand upon my forehead,
and an impatient, gibbering voice whispered the word "Arise!" within my ear.

I sat erect. The darkness was total. I could not see the figure of him who had aroused me.

I could call to mind neither the period at which I had f Allan into the trance, nor the

locality in which I then lay. While I remained motionless, and busied in endeavors to

collect my thought, the cold hand grasped me fiercely by the wrist, shaking it petulantly,

while the gibbering voice said again:

"Arise! did I not bid thee arise?"

"And who," I demanded, "art thou?"

"I have no name in the regions which I inhabit," replied the voice, mournfully; "I was
mortal, but am fiend. I was merciless, but am pitiful. Thou dost feel that I shudder.-My
teeth chatter as I speak, yet it is not with the chilliness of the night-of the night without
end. But this hideousness is insufferable. How canst thou tranquilly sleep? I cannot rest

for the cry of these great agonies. These sights are more than I can bear. Get thee up!

Come with me into the outer Night, and let me unfold to thee the graves. Is not this a

spectacle of woe?-Behold!"

I looked; and the unseen figure, which still grasped me by the wrist, had caused to be

thrown open the graves of all mankind, and from each issued the faint phosphoric

radiance of decay, so that I could see into the innermost recesses, and there view the

shrouded bodies in their sad and solemn slumbers with the worm. But alas! the real

sleepers were fewer, by many millions, than those who slumbered not at all; and there

was a feeble struggling; and there was a general sad unrest; and from out the depths of

the countless pits there came a melancholy rustling from the garments of the buried. And

of those who seemed tranquilly to repose, I saw that a vast number had changed, in a

greater or less degree, the rigid and uneasy position in which they had originally been

entombed. And the voice again said to me as I gazed:

"Is it not-oh! is it not a pitiful sight?"-but, before I could find words to reply, the figure

had ceased to grasp my wrist, the phosphoric lights expired, and the graves were closed

with a sudden violence, while from out them arose a tumult of despairing cries, saying

again: "Is it not-0, God, is it not a very pitiful sight?"

Phantasies such as these, presenting themselves at night, extended their terrific influence

far into my waking hours. My nerves became thoroughly unstrung, and I fell a prey to

perpetual horror. I hesitated to ride, or to walk, or to indulge in any exercise that would

carry me from home. In fact, I no longer dared trust myself out of the immediate presence

of those who were aware of my proneness to catalepsy, lest, falling into one of my usual

fits, I should be buried before my real condition could be ascertained. I doubted the care,

the fidelity of my dearest friends. I dreaded that, in some trance of more than customary

duration, they might be prevailed upon to regard me as irrecoverable. I even went so far

as to fear that, as I occasioned much trouble, they might be glad to consider any very

protracted attack as sufficient excuse for getting rid of me altogether. It was in vain they

endeavored to reassure me by the most solemn promises. I exacted the most sacred oaths,

that under no circumstances they would bury me until decomposition had so materially

advanced as to render farther preservation impossible. And, even then, my mortal terrors

would listen to no reason-would accept no consolation. I entered into a series of

elaborate precautions. Among other things, I had the family vault so remodelled as to

admit of being readily opened from within. The slightest pressure upon a long lever that

extended far into the tomb would cause the iron portal to fly back. There were

arrangements also for the free admission of air and light, and convenient receptacles for

food and water, within immediate reach of the coffin intended for my reception. This

coffin was warmly and softly padded, and was provided with a lid, fashioned upon the

principle of the vault-door, with the addition of springs so contrived that the feeblest

movement of the body would be sufficient to set it at liberty. Besides all this, there was

suspended from the roof of the tomb, a large bell, the rope of which, it was designed,

should extend through a hole in the coffin, and so be fastened to one of the hands of the

corpse. But, alas? what avails the vigilance against the Destiny of man? Not even these

well-contrived securities sufficed to save from the uttermost agonies of living

inhumation, a wretch to these agonies foredoomed!

There arrived an epoch-as often before there had arrived-in which I found myself
emerging from total unconsciousness into the first feeble and indefinite sense of
existence. Slowly- with a tortoise gradation-approached the faint gray dawn of the
psychal day. A torpid uneasiness. An apathetic endurance of dull pain. No care- no hope-
no effort. Then, after a long interval, a ringing in the ears; then, after a lapse still longer, a

prickling or tingling sensation in the extremities; then a seemingly eternal period of
pleasurable quiescence, during which the awakening feelings are struggling into thought;

then a brief re- sinking into non-entity; then a sudden recovery. At length the slight

quivering of an eyelid, and immediately thereupon, an electric shock of a terror, deadly

and indefinite, which sends the blood in torrents from the temples to the heart. And now

the first positive effort to think. And now the first endeavor to remember. And now a

partial and evanescent success. And now the memory has so far regained its dominion,

that, in some measure, I am cognizant of my state. I feel that I am not awaking from

ordinary sleep. I recollect that I have been subject to catalepsy. And now, at last, as if by

the rush of an ocean, my shuddering spirit is overwhelmed by the one grim Danger-by

the one spectral and ever-prevalent idea.

For some minutes after this fancy possessed me, I remained without motion. And why? I

could not summon courage to move. I dared not make the effort which was to satisfy me

of my fate-and yet there was something at my heart which whispered me it was sure.

Despair- such as no other species of wretchedness ever calls into being- despair alone

urged me, after long irresolution, to uplift the heavy lids of my eyes. I uplifted them. It

was dark-all dark. I knew that the fit was over. I knew that the crisis of my disorder had

long passed. I knew that I had now fully recovered the use of my visual faculties-and yet

it was dark-all dark-the intense and utter raylessness of the Night that endureth for

evermore.

I endeavored to shriek-, and my lips and my parched tongue moved convulsively together

in the attempt-but no voice issued from the cavernous lungs, which oppressed as if by the

weight of some incumbent mountain, gasped and palpitated, with the heart, at every

elaborate and struggling inspiration.

The movement of the jaws, in this effort to cry aloud, showed me that they were bound
up, as is usual with the dead. I felt, too, that I lay upon some hard substance, and by

something similar my sides were, also, closely compressed. So far, I had not ventured to
stir any of my limbs-but now I violently threw up my arms, which had been lying at

length, with the wrists crossed. They struck a solid wooden substance, which extended

above my person at an elevation of not more than six inches from my face. I could no
longer doubt that I reposed within a coffin at last.

And now, amid all my infinite miseries, came sweetly the cherub Hope-for I thought of

my precautions. I writhed, and made spasmodic exertions to force open the lid: it would

not move. I felt my wrists for the bell-rope: it was not to be found. And now the

Comforter fled for ever, and a still sterner Despair reigned triumphant; for I could not

help perceiving the absence of the paddings which I had so carefully prepared-and then,

too, there came suddenly to my nostrils the strong peculiar odor of moist earth. The

conclusion was irresistible. I was not within the vault. I had fAUan into a trance while

absent from home- while among strangers-when, or how, I could not remember-and it

was they who had buried me as a dog-nailed up in some common coffin-and thrust deep,

deep, and for ever, into some ordinary and nameless grave.

As this awful conviction forced itself, thus, into the innermost chambers of my soul, I
once again struggled to cry aloud. And in this second endeavor I succeeded. A long, wild,
and continuous shriek, or yell of agony, resounded through the realms of the subterranean

Night.

"Hillo! hillo, there!" said a gruff voice, in reply.

"What the devil's the matter now!" said a second.

"Get out o' that!" said a third.

"What do you mean by yowling in that ere kind of style, like a cattymount?" said a
fourth; and hereupon I was seized and shaken without ceremony, for several minutes, by
a junto of very rough-looking individuals. They did not arouse me from my slumber-for I

was wide awake when I screamed-but they restored me to the full possession of my

memory.

This adventure occurred near Richmond, in Virginia. Accompanied by a friend, I had

proceeded, upon a gunning expedition, some miles down the banks of the James River.

Night approached, and we were overtaken by a storm. The cabin of a small sloop lying at

anchor in the stream, and laden with garden mould, afforded us the only available shelter.

We made the best of it, and passed the night on board. I slept in one of the only two

berths in the vessel-and the berths of a sloop of sixty or twenty tons need scarcely be

described. That which I occupied had no bedding of any kind. Its extreme width was

eighteen inches. The distance of its bottom from the deck overhead was precisely the

same. I found it a matter of exceeding difficulty to squeeze myself in. Nevertheless, I

slept soundly, and the whole of my vision-for it was no dream, and no nightmare-arose

naturally from the circumstances of my position-from my ordinary bias of thought-and

from the difficulty, to which I have alluded, of collecting my senses, and especially of

regaining my memory, for a long time after awaking from slumber. The men who shook

me were the crew of the sloop, and some laborers engaged to unload it. From the load

itself came the earthly smell. The bandage about the jaws was a silk handkerchief in

which I had bound up my head, in default of my customary nightcap.

The tortures endured, however, were indubitably quite equal for the time, to those of
actual sepulture. They were fearfuUy-they were inconceivably hideous; but out of Evil
proceeded Good; for their very excess wrought in my spirit an inevitable revulsion. My
soul acquired tone-acquired temper. I went abroad. I took vigorous exercise. I breathed
the free air of Heaven. I thought upon other subjects than Death. I discarded my medical
books. "Buchan" I burned. I read no "Night Thoughts"-no fustian about churchyards-no
bugaboo tales-such as this. In short, I became a new man, and lived a man's life. From

that memorable night, I dismissed forever my chamel apprehensions, and with them
vanished the cataleptic disorder, of which, perhaps, they had been less the consequence

than the cause.

There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad

Humanity may assume the semblance of a Hell-but the imagination of man is no

Carathis, to explore with impunity its every cavern. Alas! the grim legion of sepulchral

terrors cannot be regarded as altogether fanciful-but, like the Demons in whose company

Afrasiab made his voyage down the Oxus, they must sleep, or they will devour us-they

must be suffered to slumber, or we perish.

THE END

THE PURLOINED LETTER

by Edgar Allan Poe

1845

Nil sapientiae odiosius acumine nimio.
Seneca.

AT Paris, just after dark one gusty evening in the autumn of 18—, I was enjoying the
twofold luxury of meditation and a meerschaum, in company with my friend C. Auguste
Dupin, in his little back library, or book-closet, au troisieme. No. 33, Rue Dunot,
Faubourg St. Germain. For one hour at least we had maintained a profound silence; while
each, to any casual observer, might have seemed intently and exclusively occupied with
the curling eddies of smoke that oppressed the atmosphere of the chamber. For myself,
however, I was mentally discussing certain topics which had formed matter for
conversation between us at an earlier period of the evening; I mean the affair of the Rue
Morgue, and the mystery attending the murder of Marie Roget. I looked upon it,
therefore, as something of a coincidence, when the door of our apartment was thrown
open and admitted our old acquaintance. Monsieur G— , the Prefect of the Parisian police.

We gave him a hearty welcome; for there was nearly half as much of the entertaining as
of the contemptible about the man, and we had not seen him for several years. We had
been sitting in the dark, and Dupin now arose for the purpose of lighting a lamp, but sat
down again, without doing so, upon G.'s saying that he had called to consult us, or rather
to ask the opinion of my friend, about some official business which had occasioned a
great deal of trouble.

"If it is any point requiring reflection," observed Dupin, as he forbore to enkindle the
wick, "we shall examine it to better purpose in the dark."

"That is another of your odd notions," said the Prefect, who had a fashion of calling every
thing "odd" that was beyond his comprehension, and thus lived amid an absolute legion
of "oddities."

"Very true," said Dupin, as he supplied his visitor with a pipe, and rolled towards him a
comfortable chair.

"And what is the difficulty now?" I asked. "Nothing more in the assassination way, I
hope?"

"Oh no; nothing of that nature. The fact is, the business is very simple indeed, and I make
no doubt that we can manage it sufficiently well ourselves; but then I thought Dupin
would like to hear the details of it, because it is so excessively odd."

"Simple and odd," said Dupin.

"Why, yes; and not exactly that, either. The fact is, we have all been a good deal puzzled
because the affair is so simple, and yet baffles us altogether."

"Perhaps it is the very simplicity of the thing which puts you at fault," said my friend.

"What nonsense you do talk!" replied the Prefect, laughing heartily.

"Perhaps the mystery is a little too plain," said Dupin.

"Oh, good heavens! who ever heard of such an idea?"

"A little too self-evident."

"Ha! ha! ha! --ha! ha! ha! -ho! ho! ho!" -roared our visitor, profoundly amused, "oh,
Dupin, you will be the death of me yet!"

"And what, after all, is the matter on hand?" I asked.

"Why, I will tell you," replied the Prefect, as he gave a long, steady, and contemplative
puff, and settled himself in his chair. "I will tell you in a few words; but, before I begin,
let me caution you that this is an affair demanding the greatest secrecy, and that I should
most probably lose the position I now hold, were it known that I confided it to any one.

"Proceed," said I.

"Or not," said Dupin.

"Well, then; I have received personal information, from a very high quarter, that a certain
document of the last importance, has been purloined from the royal apartments. The
individual who purloined it is known; this beyond a doubt; he was seen to take it. It is
known, also, that it still remains in his possession."

"How is this known?" asked Dupin.

"It is clearly inferred," replied the Prefect, "from the nature of the document, and from the
nonappearance of certain results which would at once arise from its passing out of the
robber's possession; —that is to say, from his employing it as he must design in the end to
employ it."

"Be a little more explicit," I said.

"Well, I may venture so far as to say that the paper gives its holder a certain power in a
certain quarter where such power is immensely valuable." The Prefect was fond of the
cant of diplomacy.

"Still I do not quite understand," said Dupin.

"No? Well; the disclosure of the document to a third person, who shall be nameless,
would bring in question the honor of a personage of most exalted station; and this fact
gives the holder of the document an ascendancy over the illustrious personage whose
honor and peace are so jeopardized."

"But this ascendancy," I interposed, "would depend upon the robber's knowledge of the
loser's knowledge of the robber. Who would dare—"

"The thief," said G., is the Minister D— , who dares all things, those unbecoming as well
as those becoming a man. The method of the theft was not less ingenious than bold. The
document in question —a letter, to be frank —had been received by the personage robbed
while alone in the royal boudoir. During its perusal she was suddenly interrupted by the
entrance of the other exalted personage from whom especially it was her wish to conceal
it. After a hurried and vain endeavor to thrust it in a drawer, she was forced to place it,
open as it was, upon a table. The address, however, was uppermost, and, the contents thus
unexposed, the letter escaped notice. At this juncture enters the Minister D— . His lynx
eye immediately perceives the paper, recognises the handwriting of the address, observes
the confusion of the personage addressed, and fathoms her secret. After some business
transactions, hurried through in his ordinary manner, he produces a letter somewhat
similar to the one in question, opens it, pretends to read it, and then places it in close
juxtaposition to the other. Again he converses, for some fifteen minutes, upon the public
affairs. At length, in taking leave, he takes also from the table the letter to which he had
no claim. Its rightful owner saw, but, of course, dared not call attention to the act, in the
presence of the third personage who stood at her elbow. The minister decamped; leaving
his own letter —one of no importance —upon the table."

"Here, then," said Dupin to me, "you have precisely what you demand to make the
ascendancy complete —the robber's knowledge of the loser's knowledge of the robber."

"Yes," replied the Prefect; "and the power thus attained has, for some months past, been
wielded, for political purposes, to a very dangerous extent. The personage robbed is more
thoroughly convinced, every day, of the necessity of reclaiming her letter. But this, of
course, cannot be done openly. In fine, driven to despair, she has committed the matter to
me."

"Than whom," said Dupin, amid a perfect whirlwind of smoke, "no more sagacious agent
could, I suppose, be desired, or even imagined."

"You flatter me," replied the Prefect; "but it is possible that some such opinion may have
been entertained."

"It is clear," said I, "as you observe, that the letter is still in possession of the minister;
since it is this possession, and not any employment of the letter, which bestows the
power. With the employment the power departs."

"True," said G. "and upon this conviction I proceeded. My first care was to make
thorough search of the minister's hotel; and here my chief embarrassment lay in the
necessity of searching without his knowledge. Beyond all things, I have been warned of
the danger which would result from giving him reason to suspect our design."

"But," said I, "you are quite au fait in these investigations. The Parisian police have done
this thing often before."

"Oh yes; and for this reason I did not despair. The habits of the minister gave me, too, a
great advantage. He is frequently absent from home all night. His servants are by no
means numerous. They sleep at a distance from their master's apartment, and, being
chiefly Neapolitans, are readily made drunk. I have keys, as you know, with which I can
open any chamber or cabinet in Paris. For three months a night has not passed, during the
greater part of which I have not been engaged, personally, in ransacking the D — Hotel.
My honor is interested, and, to mention a great secret, the reward is enormous. So I did
not abandon the search until I had become fully satisfied that the thief is a more astute
man than myself. I fancy that I have investigated every nook and corner of the premises
in which it is possible that the paper can be concealed."

"But is it not possible," I suggested, "that although the letter may be in possession of the
minister, as it unquestionably is, he may have concealed it elsewhere than upon his own
premises?"

"This is barely possible," said Dupin. "The present peculiar condition of affairs at court,
and especially of those intrigues in which D— is known to be involved, would render the
instant availability of the document —its susceptibility of being produced at a moment's
notice —a point of nearly equal importance with its possession."

"Its susceptibility of being produced?" said I.

"That is to say, of being destroyed," said Dupin.

"True," I observed; "the paper is clearly then upon the premises. As for its being upon the
person of the minister, we may consider that as out of the question."

"Entirely," said the Prefect. "He has been twice waylaid, as if by footpads, and his person
rigorously searched under my own inspection.

"You might have spared yourself this trouble," said Dupin. "D— , I presume, is not
altogether a fool, and, if not, must have anticipated these waylayings, as a matter of
course."

"Not altogether a fool," said G., "but then he's a poet, which I take to be only one remove
from a fool."

"True," said Dupin, after a long and thoughtful whiff from his meerschaum, "although I
have been guilty of certain doggerel myself."

"Suppose you detail," said I, "the particulars of your search."

"Why the fact is, we took our time, and we searched every where. I have had long
experience in these affairs. I took the entire building, room by room; devoting the nights
of a whole week to each. We examined, first, the furniture of each apartment. We opened
every possible drawer; and I presume you know that, to a properly trained police agent,
such a thing as a secret drawer is impossible. Any man is a dolt who permits a 'secret'
drawer to escape him in a search of this kind. The thing is so plain. There is a certain
amount of bulk —of space —to be accounted for in every cabinet. Then we have accurate
rules. The fiftieth part of a line could not escape us. After the cabinets we took the chairs.
The cushions we probed with the fine long needles you have seen me employ. From the
tables we removed the tops."

"Why so?"

"Sometimes the top of a table, or other similarly arranged piece of furniture, is removed
by the person wishing to conceal an article; then the leg is excavated, the article deposited
within the cavity, and the top replaced. The bottoms and tops of bedposts are employed in
the same way."

"But could not the cavity be detected by sounding?" I asked.

"By no means, if, when the article is deposited, a sufficient wadding of cotton be placed
around it. Besides, in our case, we were obliged to proceed without noise."

"But you could not have removed —you could not have taken to pieces all articles of
furniture in which it would have been possible to make a deposit in the manner you
mention. A letter may be compressed into a thin spiral roll, not differing much in shape or
bulk from a large knitting-needle, and in this form it might be inserted into the rung of a
chair, for example. You did not take to pieces all the chairs?"

"Certainly not; but we did better —we examined the rungs of every chair in the hotel, and,
indeed, the jointings of every description of furniture, by the aid of a most powerful
microscope. Had there been any traces of recent disturbance we should not have failed to
detect it instantly. A single grain of gimlet-dust, for example, would have been as
obvious as an apple. Any disorder in the glueing —any unusual gaping in the joints —
would have sufficed to insure detection."

"I presume you looked to the mirrors, between the boards and the plates, and you probed
the beds and the bed-clothes, as well as the curtains and carpets."

"That of course; and when we had absolutely completed every particle of the furniture in
this way, then we examined the house itself. We divided its entire surface into

compartments, which we numbered, so that none might be missed; then we scrutinized
each individual square inch throughout the premises, including the two houses
immediately adjoining, with the microscope, as before."

"The two houses adjoining!" I exclaimed; "you must have had a great deal of trouble."

"We had; but the reward offered is prodigious.

"You include the grounds about the houses?"

"All the grounds are paved with brick. They gave us comparatively little trouble. We
examined the moss between the bricks, and found it undisturbed."

"You looked among D--'s papers, of course, and into the books of the library?"

"Certainly; we opened every package and parcel; we not only opened every book, but we
turned over every leaf in each volume, not contenting ourselves with a mere shake,
according to the fashion of some of our police officers. We also measured the thickness
of every book-cover, with the most accurate admeasurement, and applied to each the
most jealous scrutiny of the microscope. Had any of the bindings been recently meddled
with, it would have been utterly impossible that the fact should have escaped observation.
Some five or six volumes, just from the hands of the binder, we carefully probed,
longitudinally, with the needles."

"You explored the floors beneath the carpets?"

"Beyond doubt. We removed every carpet, and examined the boards with the
microscope."

"And the paper on the walls?"

"Yes.

"You looked into the cellars?"

"We did."

"Then," I said, "you have been making a miscalculation, and the letter is not upon the
premises, as you suppose.

"I fear you are right there," said the Prefect. "And now, Dupin, what would you advise
me to do?"

"To make a thorough re- search of the premises."

"That is absolutely needless," replied G— . "I am not more sure that I breathe than I am
that the letter is not at the Hotel."

"I have no better advice to give you," said Dupin. "You have, of course, an accurate
description of the letter?"

"Oh yes!" —And here the Prefect, producing a memorandum-book, proceeded to read
aloud a minute account of the internal, and especially of the external appearance of the
missing document. Soon after finishing the perusal of this description, he took his
departure, more entirely depressed in spirits than I had ever known the good gentleman
before.

In about a month afterwards he paid us another visit, and found us occupied very nearly
as before. He took a pipe and a chair and entered into some ordinary conversation. At
length I said,-

"Well, but G— , what of the purloined letter? I presume you have at last made up your
mind that there is no such thing as overreaching the Minister?"

"Confound him, say I -yes; I made the reexamination, however, as Dupin suggested —
but it was all labor lost, as I knew it would be."

"How much was the reward offered, did you say?" asked Dupin.

"Why, a very great deal —a very liberal reward —I don't like to say how much, precisely;
but one thing I will say, that I wouldn't mind giving my individual check for fifty
thousand francs to any one who could obtain me that letter. The fact is, it is becoming of
more and more importance every day; and the reward has been lately doubled. If it were
trebled, however, I could do no more than I have done."

"Why, yes," said Dupin, drawlingly, between the whiffs of his meerschaum, "I really —
think, G— , you have not exerted yourself— to the utmost in this matter. You might -do a
httle more, I think, eh?"

"How? -In what way?"

"Why —puff, puff -you might -puff, puff —employ counsel in the matter, eh? -puff,
puff, puff. Do you remember the story they tell of Abernethy?"

"No; hang Abernethy!"

"To be sure! hang him and welcome. But, once upon a time, a certain rich miser
conceived the design of spunging upon this Abernethy for a medical opinion. Getting up,
for this purpose, an ordinary conversation in a private company, he insinuated his case to
the physician, as that of an imaginary individual.

'"We will suppose,' said the miser, 'that his symptoms are such and such; now, doctor,
what would you have directed him to take?'

"'Take!' said Abernethy, 'why, take advice, to be sure.'"

"But," said the Prefect, a little discomposed, "I am perfectly willing to take advice, and to
pay for it. I would really give fifty thousand francs to any one who would aid me in the
matter."

"In that case," replied Dupin, opening a drawer, and producing a check-book, "you may
as well fill me up a check for the amount mentioned. When you have signed it, I will
hand you the letter."

I was astounded. The Prefect appeared absolutely thunders tricken. For some minutes he
remained speechless and motionless, less, looking incredulously at my friend with open
mouth, and eyes that seemed starting from their sockets; then, apparently in some
measure, he seized a pen, and after several pauses and vacant stares, finally filled up and
signed a check for fifty thousand francs, and handed it across the table to Dupin. The
latter examined it carefully and deposited it in his pocket-book; then, unlocking an
escritoire, took thence a letter and gave it to the Prefect. This functionary grasped it in a
perfect agony of joy, opened it with a trembling hand, cast a rapid glance at its contents,
and then, scrambling and struggling to the door, rushed at length unceremoniously from
the room and from the house, without having uttered a syllable since Dupin had requested
him to fill up the check.

When he had gone, my friend entered into some explanations.

"The Parisian police," he said, "are exceedingly able in their way. They are persevering,
ingenious, cunning, and thoroughly versed in the knowledge which their duties seem
chiefly to demand. Thus, when G— detailed to us his mode of searching the premises at
the Hotel D— , I felt entire confidence in his having made a satisfactory investigation —so
far as his labors extended."

"So far as his labors extended?" said I.

"Yes," said Dupin. "The measures adopted were not only the best of their kind, but
carried out to absolute perfection. Had the letter been deposited within the range of their
search, these fellows would, beyond a question, have found it."

I merely laughed -but he seemed quite serious in all that he said.

"The measures, then," he continued, "were good in their kind, and well executed; their
defect lay in their being inapplicable to the case, and to the man. A certain set of highly
ingenious resources are, with the Prefect, a sort of Procrustean bed, to which he forcibly
adapts his designs. But he perpetually errs by being too deep or too shallow, for the
matter in hand; and many a schoolboy is a better reasoner than he. I knew one about eight

years of age, whose success at guessing in the game of 'even and odd' attracted universal
admiration. This game is simple, and is played with marbles. One player holds in his
hand a number of these toys, and demands of another whether that number is even or odd.
If the guess is right, the guesser wins one; if wrong, he loses one. The boy to whom I
allude won all the marbles of the school. Of course he had some principle of guessing;
and this lay in mere observation and admeasurement of the astuteness of his opponents.
For example, an arrant simpleton is his opponent, and, holding up his closed hand, asks,
'are they even or odd?' Our schoolboy replies, 'odd,' and loses; but upon the second trial
he wins, for he then says to himself, the simpleton had them even upon the first trial, and
his amount of cunning is just sufficient to make him have them odd upon the second; I
will therefore guess odd'; —he guesses odd, and wins. Now, with a simpleton a degree
above the first, he would have reasoned thus: 'This fellow finds that in the first instance I
guessed odd, and, in the second, he will propose to himself upon the first impulse, a
simple variation from even to odd, as did the first simpleton; but then a second thought
will suggest that this is too simple a variation, and finally he will decide upon putting it
even as before. I will therefore guess even' guesses even, and wins. Now this mode of
reasoning in the schoolboy, whom his fellows termed "lucky," —what, in its last analysis,
is it?"

"It is merely," I said, "an identification of the reasoner's intellect with that of his
opponent."

"It is," said Dupin;" and, upon inquiring of the boy by what means he effected the
thorough identification in which his success consisted, I received answer as follows:
'When I wish to find out how wise, or how stupid, or how good, or how wicked is any
one, or what are his thoughts at the moment, I fashion the expression of my face, as
accurately as possible, in accordance with the expression of his, and then wait to see what
thoughts or sentiments arise in my mind or heart, as if to match or correspond with the
expression.' This response of the schoolboy lies at the bottom of all the spurious
profundity which has been attributed to Rochefoucauld, to La Bougive, to Machiavelli,
and to Campanella."

"And the identification," I said, "of the reasoner's intellect with that of his opponent,
depends, if I understand you aright upon the accuracy with which the opponent's intellect
is admeasured."

"For its practical value it depends upon this," replied Dupin; and the Prefect and his
cohort fall so frequently, first, by default of this identification, and, secondly, by ill-
admeasurement, or rather through non-admeasurement, of the intellect with which they
are engaged. They consider only their own ideas of ingenuity; and, in searching for
anything hidden, advert only to the modes in which they would have hidden it. They are
right in this much —that their own ingenuity is a faithful representative of that of the
mass; but when the cunning of the individual felon is diverse in character from their own,
the felon foils them, of course. This always happens when it is above their own, and very
usually when it is below. They have no variation of principle in their investigations; at
best, when urged by some unusual emergency —by some extraordinary reward —they

extend or exaggerate their old modes of practice, without touching their principles. What,
for example, in this case of D— , has been done to vary the principle of action? What is all
this boring, and probing, and sounding, and scrutinizing with the microscope, and
dividing the surface of the building into registered square inches —what is it all but an
exaggeration of the application of the one principle or set of principles of search, which
are based upon the one set of notions regarding human ingenuity, to which the Prefect, in
the long routine of his duty, has been accustomed? Do you not see he has taken it for
granted that all men proceed to conceal a letter, —not exactly in a gimlet-hole bored in a
chair-leg -but, at least, in some hole or corner suggested by the same tenor of thought
which would urge a man to secrete a letter in a gimlet-hole bored in a chair-leg? And do
you not see also, that such recherches nooks for concealment are adapted only for
ordinary occasions, and would be adopted only by ordinary intellects; for, in all cases of
concealment, a disposal of the article concealed —a disposal of it in this recherche
manner, —is, in the very first instance, presumable and presumed; and thus its discovery
depends, not at all upon the acumen, but altogether upon the mere care, patience, and
determination of the seekers; and where the case is of importance —or, what amounts to
the same thing in the policial eyes, when the reward is of magnitude, —the qualities in
question have never been known to fall. You will now understand what I meant in
suggesting that, had the purloined letter been hidden anywhere within the limits of the
Prefect's examination —in other words, had the principle of its concealment been
comprehended within the principles of the Prefect —its discovery would have been a
matter altogether beyond question. This functionary, however, has been thoroughly
mystified; and the remote source of his defeat lies in the supposition that the Minister is a
fool, because he has acquired renown as a poet. All fools are poets; this the Prefect feels;
and he is merely guilty of a non distributio medii in thence inferring that all poets are
fools."

"But is this really the poet?" I asked. "There are two brothers, I know; and both have
attained reputation in letters. The Minister I believe has written learnedly on the
Differential Calculus. He is a mathematician, and no poet."

"You are mistaken; I know him well; he is both. As poet and mathematician, he would
reason well; as mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all, and thus would
have been at the mercy of the Prefect."

"You surprise me," I said, "by these opinions, which have been contradicted by the voice
of the world. You do not mean to set at naught the well-digested idea of centuries. The
mathematical reason has long been regarded as the reason par excellence.

"'II y a a parier,'" replied Dupin, quoting from Chamfort, '"que toute idee publique, toute
convention recue, est une sottise, car elle a convenu au plus grand nombre.' The
mathematicians, I grant you, have done their best to promulgate the popular error to
which you allude, and which is none the less an error for its promulgation as truth. With
an art worthy a better cause, for example, they have insinuated the term 'analysis' into
application to algebra. The French are the originators of this particular deception; but if a
term is of any importance —if words derive any value from applicability —then 'analysis'

conveys 'algebra' about as much as, in Latin, 'ambitus' implies 'ambition,' 'religio' religion
or 'homines honesti,' a set of honorable men."

"You have a quarrel on hand, I see," said I, "with some of the algebraists of Paris; but
proceed."

"I dispute the availability, and thus the value, of that reason which is cultivated in any
especial form other than the abstractly logical. I dispute, in particular, the reason educed
by mathematical study. The mathematics are the science of form and quantity;
mathematical reasoning is merely logic applied to observation upon form and quantity.
The great error lies in supposing that even the truths of what is called pure algebra, are
abstract or general truths. And this error is so egregious that I am confounded at the
universality with which it has been received. Mathematical axioms are not axioms of
general truth. What is true of relation —of form and quantity —is often grossly false in
regard to morals, for example. In this latter science it is very usually untrue that the
aggregated parts are equal to the whole. In chemistry also the axiom falls. In the
consideration of motive it falls; for two motives, each of a given value, have not,
necessarily, a value when united, equal to the sum of their values apart. There are
numerous other mathematical truths which are only truths within the limits of relation.
But the mathematician argues, from his finite truths, through habit, as if they were of an
absolutely general applicability —as the world indeed imagines them to be. Bryant, in his
very learned 'Mythology,' mentions an analogous source of error, when he says that
'although the Pagan fables are not believed, yet we forget ourselves continually, and
make inferences from them as existing realities.' With the algebraists, however, who are
Pagans themselves, the 'Pagan fables' are believed, and the inferences are made, not so
much through lapse of memory, as through an unaccountable addling of the brains. In
short, I never yet encountered the mere mathematician who could be trusted out of equal
roots, or one who did not clandestinely hold it as a point of his faith that x squared + px
was absolutely and unconditionally equal to q. Say to one of these gentlemen, by way of
experiment, if you please, that you believe occasions may occur where x squared + px is
not altogether equal to q, and, having made him understand what you mean, get out of his
reach as speedily as convenient, for, beyond doubt, he will endeavor to knock you down.

I mean to say," continued Dupin, while I merely laughed at his last observations, "that if
the Minister had been no more than a mathematician, the Prefect would have been under
no necessity of giving me this check. I knew him, however, as both mathematician and
poet, and my measures were adapted to his capacity, with reference to the circumstances
by which he was surrounded. I knew him as a courtier, too, and as a bold intriguant. Such
a man, I considered, could not fall to be aware of the ordinary policial modes of action.
He could not have failed to anticipate —and events have proved that he did not fail to
anticipate —the waylayings to which he was subjected. He must have foreseen, I
reflected, the secret investigations of his premises. His frequent absences from home at
night, which were hailed by the Prefect as certain aids to his success, I regarded only as
ruses, to afford opportunity for thorough search to the police, and thus the sooner to
impress them with the conviction to which G— , in fact, did finally arrive —the conviction
that the letter was not upon the premises. I felt, also, that the whole train of thought.

which I was at some pains in detailing to you just now, concerning the invariable
principle of policial action in searches for articles concealed —I felt that this whole train
of thought would necessarily pass through the mind of the Minister. It would
imperatively lead him to despise all the ordinary nooks of concealment. He could not, I
reflected, be so weak as not to see that the most intricate and remote recess of his hotel
would be as open as his commonest closets to the eyes, to the probes, to the gimlets, and
to the microscopes of the Prefect. I saw, in fine, that he would be driven, as a matter of
course, to simplicity, if not deliberately induced to it as a matter of choice. You will
remember, perhaps, how desperately the Prefect laughed when I suggested, upon our first
interview, that it was just possible this mystery troubled him so much on account of its
being so very self-evident."

"Yes," said I, "I remember his merriment well. I really thought he would have fAUan into
convulsions."

"The material world," continued Dupin, "abounds with very strict analogies to the
immaterial; and thus some color of truth has been given to the rhetorical dogma, that
metaphor, or simile, may be made to strengthen an argument, as well as to embellish a
description. The principle of the vis inertiae, for example, seems to be identical in physics
and metaphysics. It is not more true in the former, that a large body is with more
difficulty set in motion than a smaller one, and that its subsequent momentum is
commensurate with this difficulty, than it is, in the latter, that intellects of the vaster
capacity, while more forcible, more constant, and more eventful in their movements than
those of inferior grade, are yet the less readily moved, and more embarrassed and full of
hesitation in the first few steps of their progress. Again: have you ever noticed which of
the street signs, over the shop doors, are the most attractive of attention?"

"I have never given the matter a thought," I said.

"There is a game of puzzles," he resumed, "which is played upon a map. One party
playing requires another to find a given word —the name of town, river, state or empire —
any word, in short, upon the motley and perplexed surface of the chart. A novice in the
game generally seeks to embarrass his opponents by giving them the most minutely
lettered names; but the adept selects such words as stretch, in large characters, from one
end of the chart to the other. These, like the over-largely lettered signs and placards of the
street, escape observation by dint of being excessively obvious; and here the physical
oversight is precisely analogous with the moral inapprehension by which the intellect
suffers to pass unnoticed those considerations which are too obtrusively and too palpably
self-evident. But this is a point, it appears, somewhat above or beneath the understanding
of the Prefect. He never once thought it probable, or possible, that the Minister had
deposited the letter immediately beneath the nose of the whole world, by way of best
preventing any portion of that world from perceiving it.

"But the more I reflected upon the daring, dashing, and discriminating ingenuity of D— ;
upon the fact that the document must always have been at hand, if he intended to use it to
good purpose; and upon the decisive evidence, obtained by the Prefect, that it was not

hidden within the limits of that dignitary's ordinary search —the more satisfied I became
that, to conceal this letter, the Minister had resorted to the comprehensive and sagacious
expedient of not attempting to conceal it at all.

"Full of these ideas, I prepared myself with a pair of green spectacles, and called one fine
morning, quite by accident, at the Ministerial hotel. I found D— at home, yawning,
lounging, and dawdling, as usual, and pretending to be in the last extremity of ennui. He
is, perhaps, the most really energetic human being now alive —but that is only when
nobody sees him.

"To be even with him, I complained of my weak eyes, and lamented the necessity of the
spectacles, under cover of which I cautiously and thoroughly surveyed the apartment,
while seemingly intent only upon the conversation of my host.

"I paid special attention to a large writing-table near which he sat, and upon which lay
confusedly, some miscellaneous letters and other papers, with one or two musical
instruments and a few books. Here, however, after a long and very deliberate scrutiny, I
saw nothing to excite particular suspicion.

"At length my eyes, in going the circuit of the room, fell upon a trumpery filigree card-
rack of pasteboard, that hung dangling by a dirty blue ribbon, from a little brass knob just
beneath the middle of the mantelpiece. In this rack, which had three or four
compartments, were five or six visiting cards and a solitary letter. This last was much
soiled and crumpled. It was torn nearly in two, across the middle —as if a design, in the
first instance, to tear it entirely up as worthless, had been altered, or stayed, in the second.
It had a large black seal, bearing the D— cipher very conspicuously, and was addressed, in
a diminutive female hand, to D-, the minister, himself. It was thrust carelessly, and even,
as it seemed, contemptuously, into one of the upper divisions of the rack.

"No sooner had I glanced at this letter, than I concluded it to be that of which I was in
search. To be sure, it was, to all appearance, radically different from the one of which the
Prefect had read us so minute a description. Here the seal was large and black, with the
D— cipher; there it was small and red, with the ducal arms of the S— family. Here, the
address, to the Minister, was diminutive and feminine; there the superscription, to a
certain royal personage, was markedly bold and decided; the size alone formed a point of
correspondence. But, then, the radicalness of these differences, which was excessive; the
dirt; the soiled and torn condition of the paper, so inconsistent with the true methodical
habits of D-, and so suggestive of a design to delude the beholder into an idea of the
worthlessness of the document; these things, together with the hyperobtrusive situation of
this document, full in the view of every visitor, and thus exactly in accordance with the
conclusions to which I had previously arrived; these things, I say, were strongly
corroborative of suspicion, in one who came with the intention to suspect.

"I protracted my visit as long as possible, and, while I maintained a most animated
discussion with the Minister, on a topic which I knew well had never failed to interest
and excite him, I kept my attention really riveted upon the letter. In this examination, I

committed to memory its external appearance and arrangement in the rack; and also fell,
at length, upon a discovery which set at rest whatever trivial doubt I might have
entertained. In scrutinizing the edges of the paper, I observed them to be more chafed
than seemed necessary. They presented the broken appearance which is manifested when
a stiff paper, having been once folded and pressed with a folder, is refolded in a reversed
direction, in the same creases or edges which had formed the original fold. This discovery
was sufficient. It was clear to me that the letter had been turned, as a glove, inside out, re-
directed, and re-sealed. I bade the Minister good morning, and took my departure at once,
leaving a gold snuff-box upon the table.

"The next morning I called for the snuff-box, when we resumed, quite eagerly, the
conversation of the preceding day. While thus engaged, however, a loud report, as if of a
pistol, was heard immediately beneath the windows of the hotel, and was succeeded by a
series of fearful screams, and the shoutings of a mob. D— rushed to a casement, threw it
open, and looked out. In the meantime, I stepped to the card-rack, took the letter, put it in
my pocket, and replaced it by a fac-simile, (so far as regards externals,) which I had
carefully prepared at my lodgings; imitating the D— cipher, very readily, by means of a
seal formed of bread.

"The disturbance in the street had been occasioned by the frantic behavior of a man with
a musket. He had fired it among a crowd of women and children. It proved, however, to
have been without ball, and the fellow was suffered to go his way as a lunatic or a
drunkard. When he had gone, D-came from the window, whither I had followed him
immediately upon securing the object in view. Soon afterwards I bade him farewell. The
pretended lunatic was a man in my own pay.

"But what purpose had you," I asked, in replacing the letter by a fac-simile? Would it not
have been better, at the first visit, to have seized it openly, and departed?"

"D— ," replied Dupin, "is a desperate man, and a man of nerve. His hotel, too, is not
without attendants devoted to his interests. Had I made the wild attempt you suggest, I
might never have left the Ministerial presence alive. The good people of Paris might have
heard of me no more. But I had an object apart from these considerations. You know my
political prepossessions. In this matter, I act as a partisan of the lady concerned. For
eighteen months the Minister has had her in his power. She has now him in hers; since,
being unaware that the letter is not in his possession, he will proceed with his exactions
as if it was. Thus will he inevitably commit himself, at once, to his political destruction.
His downfall, too, will not be more precipitate than awkward. It is all very well to talk
about the facilis descensus Averni; but in all kinds of climbing, as Catalani said of
singing, it is far more easy to get up than to come down. In the present instance I have no
sympathy —at least no pity —for him who descends. He is the monstrum horrendum, an
unprincipled man of genius. I confess, however, that I should like very well to know the
precise character of his thoughts, when, being defied by her whom the Prefect terms 'a
certain personage,' he is reduced to opening the letter which I left for him in the card-
rack."

"How? did you put any thing particular in it?"

"Why —it did not seem altogether right to leave the interior blank —that would have been
insulting. D-, at Vienna once, did me an evil turn, which I told him, quite good-
humoredly, that I should remember. So, as I knew he would feel some curiosity in regard
to the identity of the person who had outwitted him, I thought it a pity not to give him a
clue. He is well acquainted with my MS., and I just copied into the middle of the blank
sheet the words—

— Un dessein si funeste,

S'il n'est digne d'Atree, est digne de Thyeste.

They are to be found in Crebillon's 'Atree.'"

THE END

THE RAVEN

by Edgar Allan Poe

1845

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary.
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore.
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping.
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'"Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow ;-vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping.
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door.
That I scarce was sure I heard you"-here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,

fearing.

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore !"-

Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning.
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter.

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling.
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
craven.

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door.
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered-not a feather then he fluttered-

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown

before-

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."

Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store.
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never-nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling.
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and

door;

Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er.
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er.
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he

hath sent thee

Respite-respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!-prophet still, if bird or

devil !-

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore.

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-

On this home by horror haunted-tell me truly, I implore-

Is there-is there balm in Gilead?-tell me-tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil-prophet still, if bird or

devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us-by that God we both adore-

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,

upstarting-

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! -quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my

door!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the

floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted-nevermore!

THE END

THE SLEEPER

by Edgar Allan Poe

1831

At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
An opiate vapor, dewy, dim.
Exhales from out her golden rim.
And, softly dripping, drop by drop.
Upon the quiet mountain top.
Steals drowsily and musically
Into the universal valley.
The rosemary nods upon the grave;
The lily lolls upon the wave;
Wrapping the fog about its breast.
The ruin molders into rest;
Looking like Lethe, see! the lake
A conscious slumber seems to take.
And would not, for the world, awake.
All Beauty sleeps!-and lo! where lies
Irene, with her Destinies!

O, lady bright! can it be right-
This window open to the night?
The wanton airs, from the tree-top.
Laughingly through the lattice drop-
The bodiless airs, a wizard rout.
Flit through thy chamber in and out.
And wave the curtain canopy
So fitfuUy-so fearfully-
Above the closed and fringed lid
'Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid.
That, o'er the floor and down the wall.
Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall!
Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear?
Why and what art thou dreaming here?
Sure thou art come O'er far-off seas,
A wonder to these garden trees !
Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress.
Strange, above all, thy length of tress.
And this all solemn silentness!

The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,
Which is enduring, so be deep!
Heaven have her in its sacred keep!
This chamber changed for one more holy.
This bed for one more melancholy,
I pray to God that she may lie
For ever with unopened eye.
While the pale sheeted ghosts go by!

My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep
As it is lasting, so be deep!
Soft may the worms about her creep!
Far in the forest, dim and old.
For her may some tall vault unfold-
Some vault that oft has flung its black
And winged panels fluttering back.
Triumphant, o'er the crested palls.
Of her grand family funerals-
Some sepulchre, remote, alone.
Against whose portal she hath thrown.
In childhood, many an idle stone-
Some tomb from out whose sounding door
She ne'er shall force an echo more.
Thrilling to think, poor child of sin!
It was the dead who groaned within.

THE END

THE SPECTACLES

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

MANY years ago, it was the fashion to ridicule the idea of "love at first sight;" but those
who think, not less than those who feel deeply, have always advocated its existence.
Modern discoveries, indeed, in what may be termed ethical magnetism or
magnetoesthetics, render it probable that the most natural, and, consequently, the truest
and most intense of the human affections are those which arise in the heart as if by
electric sympathy-in a word, that the brightest and most enduring of the psychal fetters
are those which are riveted by a glance. The confession I am about to make will add
another to the already almost innumerable instances of the truth of the position.

My story requires that I should be somewhat minute. I am still a very young man-not yet
twenty-two years of age. My name, at present, is a very usual and rather plebeian one-
Simpson. I say "at present;" for it is only lately that I have been so called-having
legislatively adopted this surname within the last year in order to receive a large
inheritance left me by a distant male relative, Adolphus Simpson, Esq. The bequest was
conditioned upon my taking the name of the testator,-the family, not the Christian name;
my Christian name is Napoleon Bonaparte-or, more properly, these are my first and
middle appellations.

I assumed the name, Simpson, with some reluctance, as in my true patronym, Froissart, I
felt a very pardonable pride-believing that I could trace a descent from the immortal
author of the "Chronicles." While on the subject of names, by the bye, I may mention a
singular coincidence of sound attending the names of some of my immediate
predecessors. My father was a Monsieur Froissart, of Paris. His wife-my mother, whom
he married at fifteen-was a Mademoiselle Croissart, eldest daughter of Croissart the
banker, whose wife, again, being only sixteen when married, was the eldest daughter of
one Victor Voissart. Monsieur Voissart, very singularly, had married a lady of similar
name-a Mademoiselle Moissart. She, too, was quite a child when married; and her
mother, also, Madame Moissart, was only fourteen when led to the altar. These early
marriages are usual in France. Here, however, are Moissart, Voissart, Croissart, and
Froissart, all in the direct line of descent. My own name, though, as I say, became
Simpson, by act of Legislature, and with so much repugnance on my part, that, at one
period, I actually hesitated about accepting the legacy with the useless and annoying
proviso attached.

As to personal endowments, I am by no means deficient. On the contrary, I believe that I
am well made, and possess what nine tenths of the world would call a handsome face. In
height I am five feet eleven. My hair is black and curling. My nose is sufficiently good.
My eyes are large and gray; and although, in fact they are weak a very inconvenient

degree, still no defect in this regard would be suspected from their appearance. The
weakness itself, however, has always much annoyed me, and I have resorted to every
remedy-short of wearing glasses. Being youthful and good-looking, I naturally dislike
these, and have resolutely refused to employ them. I know nothing, indeed, which so
disfigures the countenance of a young person, or so impresses every feature with an air of
demureness, if not altogether of sanctimoniousness and of age. An eyeglass, on the other
hand, has a savor of downright foppery and affectation. I have hitherto managed as well
as I could without either. But something too much of these merely personal details,
which, after all, are of little importance. I will content myself with saying, in addition,
that my temperament is sanguine, rash, ardent, enthusiastic-and that all my life I have
been a devoted admirer of the women.

One night last winter I entered a box at the P— Theatre, in company with a friend, Mr.
Talbot. It was an opera night, and the bills presented a very rare attraction, so that the
house was excessively crowded. We were in time, however, to obtain the front seats
which had been reserved for us, and into which, with some little difficulty, we elbowed
our way.

For two hours my companion, who was a musical fanatico, gave his undivided attention
to the stage; and, in the meantime, I amused myself by observing the audience, which
consisted, in chief part, of the very elite of the city. Having satisfied myself upon this
point, I was about turning my eyes to the prima donna, when they were arrested and
riveted by a figure in one of the private boxes which had escaped my observation.

If I live a thousand years, I can never forget the intense emotion with which I regarded
this figure. It was that of a female, the most exquisite I had ever beheld. The face was so
far turned toward the stage that, for some minutes, I could not obtain a view of it-but the
form was divine; no other word can sufficiently express its magnificent proportion-and
even the term "divine" seems ridiculously feeble as I write it.

The magic of a lovely form in woman-the necromancy of female gracefulness-was
always a power which I had found it impossible to resist, but here was grace personified,
incarnate, the beau ideal of my wildest and most enthusiastic visions. The figure, almost
all of which the construction of the box permitted to be seen, was somewhat above the
medium height, and nearly approached, without positively reaching, the majestic. Its
perfect fullness and toumure were delicious. The head of which only the back was
visible, rivalled in outline that of the Greek Psyche, and was rather displayed than
concealed by an elegant cap of gaze aerienne, which put me in mind of the ventum
textilem of Apuleius. The right arm hung over the balustrade of the box, and thrilled
every nerve of my frame with its exquisite symmetry. Its upper portion was draperied by
one of the loose open sleeves now in fashion. This extended but little below the elbow.
Beneath it was worn an under one of some frail material, close-fitting, and terminated by
a cuff of rich lace, which fell gracefully over the top of the hand, revealing only the
delicate fingers, upon one of which sparkled a diamond ring, which I at once saw was of
extraordinary value. The admirable roundness of the wrist was well set off by a bracelet
which encircled it, and which also was ornamented and clasped by a magnificent aigrette

of jewels-telling, in words that could not be mistaken, at once of the wealth and fastidious
taste of the wearer.

I gazed at this queenly apparition for at least half an hour, as if I had been suddenly
converted to stone; and, during this period, I felt the full force and truth of all that has
been said or sung concerning "love at first sight." My feelings were totally different from
any which I had hitherto experienced, in the presence of even the most celebrated
specimens of female loveliness. An unaccountable, and what I am compelled to consider
a magnetic, sympathy of soul for soul, seemed to rivet, not only my vision, but my whole
powers of thought and feeling, upon the admirable object before me. I saw-I felt-I knew
that I was deeply, madly, irrevocably in love-and this even before seeing the face of the
person beloved. So intense, indeed, was the passion that consumed me, that I really
believe it would have received little if any abatement had the features, yet unseen, proved
of merely ordinary character, so anomalous is the nature of the only true love-of the love
at first sight-and so little really dependent is it upon the external conditions which only
seem to create and control it.

While I was thus wrapped in admiration of this lovely vision, a sudden disturbance
among the audience caused her to turn her head partially toward me, so that I beheld the
entire profile of the face. Its beauty even exceeded my anticipations-and yet there was
something about it which disappointed me without my being able to tell exactly what it
was. I said "disappointed," but this is not altogether the word. My sentiments were at
once quieted and exalted. They partook less of transport and more of calm enthusiasm of
enthusiastic repose. This state of feeling arose, perhaps, from the Madonna-like and
matronly air of the face; and yet I at once understood that it could not have arisen entirely
from this. There was something else- some mystery which I could not develope-some
expression about the countenance which slightly disturbed me while it greatly heightened
my interest. In fact, I was just in that condition of mind which prepares a young and
susceptible man for any act of extravagance. Had the lady been alone, I should
undoubtedly have entered her box and accosted her at all hazards; but, fortunately, she
was attended by two companions-a gentleman, and a strikingly beautiful woman, to all
appearance a few years younger than herself.

I revolved in my mind a thousand schemes by which I might obtain, hereafter, an
introduction to the elder lady, or, for the present, at all events, a more distinct view of her
beauty. I would have removed my position to one nearer her own, but the crowded state
of the theatre rendered this impossible; and the stern decrees of Fashion had, of late,
imperatively prohibited the use of the opera-glass in a case such as this, even had I been
so fortunate as to have one with me-but I had not-and was thus in despair.

At length I bethought me of applying to my companion.

"Talbot," I said, "you have an opera-glass. Let me have it."

"An opera-glass !-no!-what do you suppose I would be doing with an opera-glass?" Here
he turned impatiently toward the stage.

"But, Talbot," I continued, pulling him by the shoulder, "listen to me will you? Do you
see the stage-box?-there!-no, the next.-did you ever behold as lovely a woman?"

"She is very beautiful, no doubt," he said.

"I wonder who she can be?"

"Why, in the name of all that is angelic, don't you know who she is? 'Not to know her
argues yourself unknown.' She is the celebrated Madame Lalande-the beauty of the day
par excellence, and the talk of the whole town. Immensely wealthy too-a widow, and a
great match-has just arrived from Paris."

"Do you know her?"

"Yes; I have the honor."

"Will you introduce me?"

"Assuredly, with the greatest pleasure; when shall it be?"

"To-morrow, at one, I will call upon you at B— 's.

"Very good; and now do hold your tongue, if you can."

In this latter respect I was forced to take Talbot's advice; for he remained obstinately deaf
to every further question or suggestion, and occupied himself exclusively for the rest of
the evening with what was transacting upon the stage.

In the meantime I kept my eyes riveted on Madame Lalande, and at length had the good
fortune to obtain a full front view of her face. It was exquisitely lovely-this, of course,
my heart had told me before, even had not Talbot fully satisfied me upon the point-but
still the unintelligible something disturbed me. I finally concluded that my senses were
impressed by a certain air of gravity, sadness, or, still more properly, of weariness, which
took something from the youth and freshness of the countenance, only to endow it with a
seraphic tenderness and majesty, and thus, of course, to my enthusiastic and romantic
temperment, with an interest tenfold.

While I thus feasted my eyes, I perceived, at last, to my great trepidation, by an almost
imperceptible start on the part of the lady, that she had become suddenly aware of the
intensity of my gaze. Still, I was absolutely fascinated, and could not withdraw it, even
for an instant. She turned aside her face, and again I saw only the chiselled contour of the
back portion of the head. After some minutes, as if urged by curiosity to see if I was still
looking, she gradually brought her face again around and again encountered my burning
gaze. Her large dark eyes fell instantly, and a deep blush mantled her cheek. But what
was my astonishment at perceiving that she not only did not a second time avert her head.

but that she actually took from her girdle a double eyeglass-elevated it-adjusted it-and
then regarded me through it, intently and deliberately, for the space of several minutes.

Had a thunderbolt fAUan at my feet I could not have been more thoroughly astounded-
astounded only-not offended or disgusted in the slightest degree; although an action so
bold in any other woman would have been likely to offend or disgust. But the whole
thing was done with so much quietude-so much nonchalance-so much repose- with so
evident an air of the highest breeding, in short-that nothing of mere effrontery was
perceptible, and my sole sentiments were those of admiration and surprise.

I observed that, upon her first elevation of the glass, she had seemed satisfied with a
momentary inspection of my person, and was withdrawing the instrument, when, as if
struck by a second thought, she resumed it, and so continued to regard me with fixed
attention for the space of several minutes-for five minutes, at the very least, I am sure.

This action, so remarkable in an American theatre, attracted very general observation,
and gave rise to an indefinite movement, or buzz, among the audience, which for a
moment filled me with confusion, but produced no visible effect upon the countenance of
Madame Lalande.

Having satisfied her curiosity-if such it was-she dropped the glass, and quietly gave her
attention again to the stage; her profile now being turned toward myself, as before. I
continued to watch her unremittingly, although I was fully conscious of my rudeness in
so doing. Presently I saw the head slowly and slightly change its position; and soon I
became convinced that the lady, while pretending to look at the stage was, in fact,
attentively regarding myself. It is needless to say what effect this conduct, on the part of
so fascinating a woman, had upon my excitable mind.

Having thus scrutinized me for perhaps a quarter of an hour, the fair object of my passion
addressed the gentleman who attended her, and while she spoke, I saw distinctly, by the
glances of both, that the conversation had reference to myself.

Upon its conclusion, Madame Lalande again turned toward the stage, and, for a few
minutes, seemed absorbed in the performance. At the expiration of this period, however, I
was thrown into an extremity of agitation by seeing her unfold, for the second time, the
eye-glass which hung at her side, fully confront me as before, and, disregarding the
renewed buzz of the audience, survey me, from head to foot, with the same miraculous
composure which had previously so delighted and confounded my soul.

This extraordinary behavior, by throwing me into a perfect fever of excitement-into an
absolute delirium of love-served rather to embolden than to disconcert me. In the mad
intensity of my devotion, I forgot everything but the presence and the majestic loveliness
of the vision which confronted my gaze. Watching my opportunity, when I thought the
audience were fully engaged with the opera, I at length caught the eyes of Madame
Lalande, and, upon the instant, made a slight but unmistakable bow.

She blushed very deeply-then averted her eyes-then slowly and cautiously looked
around, apparently to see if my rash action had been noticed-then leaned over toward the
gentleman who sat by her side.

I now felt a burning sense of the impropriety I had committed, and expected nothing less
than instant exposure; while a vision of pistols upon the morrow floated rapidly and
uncomfortably through my brain. I was greatly and immediately relieved, however, when
I saw the lady merely hand the gentleman a play-bill, without speaking, but the reader
may form some feeble conception of my astonishment-of my profound amazement-my
delirious bewilderment of heart and soul-when, instantly afterward, having again glanced
furtively around, she allowed her bright eyes to set fully and steadily upon my own, and
then, with a faint smile, disclosing a bright line of her pearly teeth, made two distinct,
pointed, and unequivocal affirmative inclinations of the head.

It is useless, of course, to dwell upon my joy-upon my transport- upon my illimitable
ecstasy of heart. If ever man was mad with excess of happiness, it was myself at that
moment. I loved. This was my first love-so I felt it to be. It was love supreme-
indescribable. It was "love at first sight;" and at first sight, too, it had been appreciated
and returned.

Yes, returned. How and why should I doubt it for an instant. What other construction
could I possibly put upon such conduct, on the part of a lady so beautiful-so wealthy-
evidently so accomplished-of so high breeding-of so lofty a position in society-in every
regard so entirely respectable as I felt assured was Madame Lalande? Yes, she loved me-
she returned the enthusiasm of my love, with an enthusiasm as blind-as
uncompromi sing-as uncalculating-as abandoned-and as utterly unbounded as my own!
These delicious fancies and reflections, however, were now interrupted by the falling of
the drop-curtain. The audience arose; and the usual tumult immediately supervened.
Quitting Talbot abruptly, I made every effort to force my way into closer proximity with
Madame Lalande. Having failed in this, on account of the crowd, I at length gave up the
chase, and bent my steps homeward; consoling myself for my disappointment in not
having been able to touch even the hem of her robe, by the reflection that I should be
introduced by Talbot, in due form, upon the morrow.

This morrow at last came, that is to say, a day finally dawned upon a long and weary
night of impatience; and then the hours until "one" were snail-paced, dreary, and
innumerable. But even Stamboul, it is said, shall have an end, and there came an end to
this long delay. The clock struck. As the last echo ceased, I stepped into B— 's and
inquired for Talbot.

"Out," said the footman-Talbot's own.

"Out!" I replied, staggering back half a dozen paces-"let me tell you, my fine fellow, that
this thing is thoroughly impossible and impracticable; Mr. Talbot is not out. What do you
mean?"

"Nothing, sir; only Mr. Talbot is not in, that's all. He rode over to S--, immediately after
breakfast, and left word that he would not be in town again for a week."

I stood petrified with horror and rage. I endeavored to reply, but my tongue refused its
office. At length I turned on my heel, livid with wrath, and inwardly consigning the
whole tribe of the Talbots to the innermost regions of Erebus. It was evident that my
considerate friend, il fanatico, had quite forgotten his appointment with myself-had
forgotten it as soon as it was made. At no time was he a very scrupulous man of his word.
There was no help for it; so smothering my vexation as well as I could, I strolled moodily
up the street, propounding futile inquiries about Madame Lalande to every male
acquaintance I met. By report she was known, I found, to all- to many by sight-but she
had been in town only a few weeks, and there were very few, therefore, who claimed her
personal acquaintance. These few, being still comparatively strangers, could not, or
would not, take the liberty of introducing me through the formality of a morning call.
While I stood thus in despair, conversing with a trio of friends upon the all absorbing
subject of my heart, it so happened that the subject itself passed by.

"As I live, there she is!" cried one.

"Surprisingly beautiful!" exclaimed a second.

"An angel upon earth!" ejaculated a third.

I looked; and in an open carriage which approached us, passing slowly down the street,
sat the enchanting vision of the opera, accompanied by the younger lady who had
occupied a portion of her box.

"Her companion also wears remarkably well," said the one of my trio who had spoken
first.

"Astonishingly," said the second; "still quite a brilliant air, but art will do wonders. Upon
my word, she looks better than she did at Paris five years ago. A beautiful woman still;-
don't you think so, Froissart?-Simpson, I mean."

"Still!" said I, "and why shouldn't she be? But compared with her friend she is as a rush-
light to the evening star-a glow-worm to Antares.

"Ha! ha! ha!-why, Simpson, you have an astonishing tact at making discoveries-original
ones, I mean." And here we separated, while one of the trio began humming a gay
vaudeville, of which I caught only the lines-
Ninon, Ninon, Ninon a bas-
A bas Ninon De L'Enclos!

During this little scene, however, one thing had served greatly to console me, although it
fed the passion by which I was consumed. As the carriage of Madame Lalande rolled by
our group, I had observed that she recognized me; and more than this, she had blessed
me, by the most seraphic of all imaginable smiles, with no equivocal mark of the
recognition.

As for an introduction, I was obliged to abandon all hope of it until such time as Talbot
should think proper to return from the country. In the meantime I perseveringly
frequented every reputable place of public amusement; and, at length, at the theatre,
where I first saw her, I had the supreme bliss of meeting her, and of exchanging glances
with her once again. This did not occur, however, until the lapse of a fortnight. Every
day, in the interim, I had inquired for Talbot at his hotel, and every day had been thrown
into a spasm of wrath by the everlasting "Not come home yet" of his footman.

Upon the evening in question, therefore, I was in a condition little short of madness.
Madame Lalande, I had been told, was a Parisian-had lately arrived from Paris-might
she not suddenly return?-retum before Talbot came back-and might she not be thus lost
to me forever? The thought was too terrible to bear. Since my future happiness was at
issue, I resolved to act with a manly decision. In a word, upon the breaking up of the
play, I traced the lady to her residence, noted the address, and the next morning sent her a
full and elaborate letter, in which I poured out my whole heart.

I spoke boldly, freely-in a word, I spoke with passion. I concealed nothing-nothing even
of my weakness. I alluded to the romantic circumstances of our first meeting-even to the
glances which had passed between us. I went so far as to say that I felt assured of her
love; while I offered this assurance, and my own intensity of devotion, as two excuses for
my otherwise unpardonable conduct. As a third, I spoke of my fear that she might quit the
city before I could have the opportunity of a formal introduction. I concluded the most
wildly enthusiastic epistle ever penned, with a frank declaration of my worldly
circumstances-of my affluence-and with an offer of my heart and of my hand.

In an agony of expectation I awaited the reply. After what seemed the lapse of a century
it came.

Yes, actually came. Romantic as all this may appear, I really received a letter from
Madame Lalande-the beautiful, the wealthy, the idolized Madame Lalande. Her eyes-her
magnificent eyes, had not belied her noble heart. Like a true Frenchwoman as she was
she had obeyed the frank dictates of her reason-the generous impulses of her nature-
despising the conventional pruderies of the world. She had not scorned my proposals. She
had not sheltered herself in silence. She had not returned my letter unopened. She had
even sent me, in reply, one penned by her own exquisite fingers. It ran thus:

"Monsieur Simpson vill pardonne me for not compose de butefuUe tong of his contree so
veil as might. It is only de late dat I am arrive, and not yet ave do opportunite for to-
I'etudier.

"Vid dis apologie for the maniere, I vill now say dat, helas!- Monsieur Simpson ave guess
but de too true. Need I say de more? Helas! am I not ready speak de too moshe?

"EUGENIE LALAND."

This noble-spirited note I kissed a million times, and committed, no doubt, on its
account, a thousand other extravagances that have now escaped my memory. Still Talbot
would not return. Alas! could he have formed even the vaguest idea of the suffering his
absence had occasioned his friend, would not his sympathizing nature have flown
immediately to my relief? Still, however, he came not. I wrote. He replied. He was
detained by urgent business-but would shortly return. He begged me not to be impatient-
to moderate my transports-to read soothing books-to drink nothing stronger than Hock-
and to bring the consolations of philosophy to my aid. The fool! if he could not come
himself, why, in the name of every thing rational, could he not have enclosed me a letter
of presentation? I wrote him again, entreating him to forward one forthwith. My letter
was returned by that footman, with the following endorsement in pencil. The scoundrel
had joined his master in the country:

"Left S— yesterday, for parts unknown-did not say where-or when be back-so thought
best to return letter, knowing your handwriting, and as how you is always, more or less,
in a hurry.

"Yours sincerely,

"STUBBS."

After this, it is needless to say, that I devoted to the infernal deities both master and
valet:-but there was little use in anger, and no consolation at all in complaint.

But I had yet a resource left, in my constitutional audacity. Hitherto it had served me
well, and I now resolved to make it avail me to the end. Besides, after the correspondence
which had passed between us, what act of mere informality could I commit, within
bounds, that ought to be regarded as indecorous by Madame Lalande? Since the affair of
the letter, I had been in the habit of watching her house, and thus discovered that, about
twilight, it was her custom to promenade, attended only by a negro in livery, in a public
square overlooked by her windows. Here, amid the luxuriant and shadowing groves, in
the gray gloom of a sweet midsummer evening, I observed my opportunity and accosted
her.

The better to deceive the servant in attendance, I did this with the assured air of an old
and familiar acquaintance. With a presence of mind truly Parisian, she took the cue at
once, and, to greet me, held out the most bewitchingly little of hands. The valet at once
fell into the rear, and now, with hearts full to overflowing, we discoursed long and
unreservedly of our love.

As Madame Lalande spoke English even less fluently than she wrote it, our conversation
was necessarily in French. In this sweet tongue, so adapted to passion, I gave loose to the
impetuous enthusiasm of my nature, and, with all the eloquence I could command,
besought her to consent to an immediate marriage.

At this impatience she smiled. She urged the old story of decorum- that bug-bear which
deters so many from bliss until the opportunity for bliss has forever gone by. I had most
imprudently made it known among my friends, she observed, that I desired her
acquaintance- thus that I did not possess it-thus, again, there was no possibility of
concealing the date of our first knowledge of each other. And then she adverted, with a
blush, to the extreme recency of this date. To wed immediately would be improper-
would be indecorous-would be outre. All this she said with a charming air of naivete
which enraptured while it grieved and convinced me. She went even so far as to accuse
me, laughingly, of rashness-of imprudence. She bade me remember that I really even
know not who she was-what were her prospects, her connections, her standing in society.
She begged me, but with a sigh, to reconsider my proposal, and termed my love an
infatuation-a will o' the wisp-a fancy or fantasy of the moment-a baseless and unstable
creation rather of the imagination than of the heart. These things she uttered as the
shadows of the sweet twilight gathered darkly and more darkly around us-and then, with
a gentle pressure of her fairy-like hand, overthrew, in a single sweet instant, all the
argumentative fabric she had reared.

I replied as best I could-as only a true lover can. I spoke at length, and perseveringly of
my devotion, of my passion-of her exceeding beauty, and of my own enthusiastic
admiration. In conclusion, I dwelt, with a convincing energy, upon the perils that
encompass the course of love-that course of true love that never did run smooth-and thus
deduced the manifest danger of rendering that course unnecessarily long.

This latter argument seemed finally to soften the rigor of her determination. She relented;
but there was yet an obstacle, she said, which she felt assured I had not properly
considered. This was a delicate point-for a woman to urge, especially so; in mentioning
it, she saw that she must make a sacrifice of her feelings; still, for me, every sacrifice
should be made. She alluded to the topic of age. Was I aware-was I fully aware of the
discrepancy between us? That the age of the husband, should surpass by a few years-
even by fifteen or twenty-the age of the wife, was regarded by the world as admissible,
and, indeed, as even proper, but she had always entertained the belief that the years of the
wife should never exceed in number those of the husband. A discrepancy of this
unnatural kind gave rise, too frequently, alas! to a life of unhappiness. Now she was
aware that my own age did not exceed two and twenty; and I, on the contrary, perhaps,
was not aware that the years of my Eugenie extended very considerably beyond that sum.

About all this there was a nobility of soul-a dignity of candor- which delighted-which
enchanted me-which eternally riveted my chains. I could scarcely restrain the excessive
transport which possessed me.

"My sweetest Eugenie," I cried, "what is all this about which you are discoursing? Your
years surpass in some measure my own. But what then? The customs of the world are so
many conventional follies. To those who love as ourselves, in what respect differs a year
from an hour? I am twenty-two, you say, granted: indeed, you may as well call me, at
once, twenty-three. Now you yourself, my dearest Eugenie, can have numbered no more
than-can have numbered no more than-no more than-than-than-than-"

Here I paused for an instant, in the expectation that Madame Lalande would interrupt me
by supplying her true age. But a Frenchwoman is seldom direct, and has always, by way
of answer to an embarrassing query, some little practical reply of her own. In the present
instance, Eugenie, who for a few moments past had seemed to be searching for something
in her bosom, at length let fall upon the grass a miniature, which I immediately picked up
and presented to her.

"Keep it!" she said, with one of her most ravishing smiles. "Keep it for my sake-for the
sake of her whom it too flatteringly represents. Besides, upon the back of the trinket you
may discover, perhaps, the very information you seem to desire. It is now, to be sure,
growing rather dark-but you can examine it at your leisure in the morning. In the
meantime, you shall be my escort home to-night. My friends are about holding a little
musical levee. I can promise you, too, some good singing. We French are not nearly so
punctilious as you Americans, and I shall have no difficulty in smuggling you in, in the
character of an old acquaintance."

With this, she took my arm, and I attended her home. The mansion was quite a fine one,
and, I believe, furnished in good taste. Of this latter point, however, I am scarcely
qualified to judge; for it was just dark as we arrived; and in American mansions of the
better sort lights seldom, during the heat of summer, make their appearance at this, the
most pleasant period of the day. In about an hour after my arrival, to be sure, a single
shaded solar lamp was lit in the principal drawing-room; and this apartment, I could thus
see, was arranged with unusual good taste and even splendor; but two other rooms of the
suite, and in which the company chiefly assembled, remained, during the whole evening,
in a very agreeable shadow. This is a well-conceived custom, giving the party at least a
choice of light or shade, and one which our friends over the water could not do better
than immediately adopt.

The evening thus spent was unquestionably the most delicious of my life. Madame
Lalande had not overrated the musical abilities of her friends; and the singing I here
heard I had never heard excelled in any private circle out of Vienna. The instrumental
performers were many and of superior talents. The vocalists were chiefly ladies, and no
individual sang less than well. At length, upon a peremptory call for "Madame Lalande,"
she arose at once, without affectation or demur, from the chaise longue upon which she
had sat by my side, and, accompanied by one or two gentlemen and her female friend of
the opera, repaired to the piano in the main drawing-room. I would have escorted her
myself, but felt that, under the circumstances of my introduction to the house, I had better
remain unobserved where I was. I was thus deprived of the pleasure of seeing, although
not of hearing, her sing.

The impression she produced upon the company seemed electrical but the effect upon
myself was something even more. I know not how adequately to describe it. It arose in
part, no doubt, from the sentiment of love with which I was imbued; but chiefly from my
conviction of the extreme sensibility of the singer. It is beyond the reach of art to endow
either air or recitative with more impassioned expression than was hers. Her utterance of
the romance in Otello-the tone with which she gave the words "Sul mio sasso," in the
Capuletti-is ringing in my memory yet. Her lower tones were absolutely miraculous. Her
voice embraced three complete octaves, extending from the contralto D to the D upper
soprano, and, though sufficiently powerful to have filled the San Carlos, executed, with
the minutest precision, every difficulty of vocal composition-ascending and descending
scales, cadences, or fiorituri. In the final of the Somnambula, she brought about a most
remarkable effect at the words:

Ah! non guinge uman pensiero

Al contento ond 'io son plena.

Here, in imitation of Malibran, she modified the original phrase of Bellini, so as to let her
voice descend to the tenor G, when, by a rapid transition, she struck the G above the
treble stave, springing over an interval of two octaves.

Upon rising from the piano after these miracles of vocal execution, she resumed her seat
by my side; when I expressed to her, in terms of the deepest enthusiasm, my delight at
her performance. Of my surprise I said nothing, and yet was I most unfeignedly
surprised; for a certain feebleness, or rather a certain tremulous indecision of voice in
ordinary conversation, had prepared me to anticipate that, in singing, she would not
acquit herself with any remarkable ability.

Our conversation was now long, earnest, uninterrupted, and totally unreserved. She made
me relate many of the earlier passages of my life, and listened with breathless attention to
every word of the narrative. I concealed nothing-felt that I had a right to conceal
nothing-from her confiding affection. Encouraged by her candor upon the delicate point
of her age, I entered, with perfect frankness, not only into a detail of my many minor
vices, but made full confession of those moral and even of those physical infirmities, the
disclosure of which, in demanding so much higher a degree of courage, is so much surer
an evidence of love. I touched upon my college indiscretions-upon my extravagances-
upon my carousals- upon my debts-upon my flirtations. I even went so far as to speak of
a slightly hectic cough with which, at one time, I had been troubled-of a chronic
rheumatism-of a twinge of hereditary gout- and, in conclusion, of the disagreeable and
inconvenient, but hitherto carefully concealed, weakness of my eyes.

"Upon this latter point," said Madame Lalande, laughingly, "you have been surely
injudicious in coming to confession; for, without the confession, I take it for granted that
no one would have accused you of the crime. By the by," she continued, "have you any
recollection-" and here I fancied that a blush, even through the gloom of the apartment.

became distinctly visible upon her cheek-"have you any recollection, mon cher ami of
this little ocular assistant, which now depends from my neck?"

As she spoke she twirled in her fingers the identical double eye-glass which had so
overwhelmed me with confusion at the opera.

"Full well-alas! do I remember it," I exclaimed, pressing passionately the delicate hand
which offered the glasses for my inspection. They formed a complex and magnificent
toy, richly chased and filigreed, and gleaming with jewels, which, even in the deficient
light, I could not help perceiving were of high value.

"Eh bien! mon ami" she resumed with a certain empressment of manner that rather
surprised me-"Eh bien! mon ami, you have earnestly besought of me a favor which you
have been pleased to denominate priceless. You have demanded of me my hand upon the
morrow. Should I yield to your entreaties-and, I may add, to the pleadings of my own
bosom-would I not be entitled to demand of you a very-a very little boon in return?"

"Name it!" I exclaimed with an energy that had nearly drawn upon us the observation of
the company, and restrained by their presence alone from throwing myself impetuously at
her feet. "Name it, my beloved, my Eugenie, my own!-name it!-but, alas! it is already
yielded ere named."

"You shall conquer, then, mon ami," said she, "for the sake of the Eugenie whom you
love, this little weakness which you have at last confessed-this weakness more moral
than physical-and which, let me assure you, is so unbecoming the nobility of your real
nature-so inconsistent with the candor of your usual character-and which, if permitted
further control, will assuredly involve you, sooner or later, in some very disagreeable
scrape. You shall conquer, for my sake, this affectation which leads you, as you yourself
acknowledge, to the tacit or implied denial of your infirmity of vision. For, this infirmity
you virtually deny, in refusing to employ the customary means for its relief. You will
understand me to say, then, that I wish you to wear spectacles;-ah, hush!-you have
already consented to wear them, for my sake. You shall accept the little toy which I now
hold in my hand, and which, though admirable as an aid to vision, is really of no very
immense value as a gem. You perceive that, by a trifling modification thus-or thus-it can
be adapted to the eyes in the form of spectacles, or worn in the waistcoat pocket as an
eye-glass. It is in the former mode, however, and habitually, that you have already
consented to wear it for my sake."

This request-must I confess it?-confused me in no little degree. But the condition with
which it was coupled rendered hesitation, of course, a matter altogether out of the
question.

"It is done!" I cried, with all the enthusiasm that I could muster at the moment. "It is
done-it is most cheerfully agreed. I sacrifice every feeling for your sake. To-night I wear
this dear eye-glass, as an eye-glass, and upon my heart; but with the earliest dawn of that
morning which gives me the pleasure of calling you wife, I will place it upon my-upon

my nose-and there wear it ever afterward, in the less romantic, and less fashionable, but
certainly in the more serviceable, form which you desire."

Our conversation now turned upon the details of our arrangements for the morrow.
Talbot, I learned from my betrothed, had just arrived in town. I was to see him at once,
and procure a carriage. The soiree would scarcely break up before two; and by this hour
the vehicle was to be at the door, when, in the confusion occasioned by the departure of
the company, Madame L. could easily enter it unobserved. We were then to call at the
house of a clergyman who would be in waiting; there be married, drop Talbot, and
proceed on a short tour to the East, leaving the fashionable world at home to make
whatever comments upon the matter it thought best.

Having planned all this, I immediately took leave, and went in search of Talbot, but, on
the way, I could not refrain from stepping into a hotel, for the purpose of inspecting the
miniature; and this I did by the powerful aid of the glasses. The countenance was a
surpassingly beautiful one! Those large luminous eyes!-that proud Grecian nose!-those
dark luxuriant curls!-" Ah!" said I, exultingly to myself, "this is indeed the speaking
image of my beloved!" I turned the reverse, and discovered the words-"Eugenie
Lalande-aged twenty-seven years and seven months."

I found Talbot at home, and proceeded at once to acquaint him with my good fortune. He
professed excessive astonishment, of course, but congratulated me most cordially, and
proffered every assistance in his power. In a word, we carried out our arrangement to the
letter, and, at two in the morning, just ten minutes after the ceremony, I found myself in a
close carriage with Madame Lalande-with Mrs. Simpson, I should say-and driving at a
great rate out of town, in a direction Northeast by North, half- North.

It had been determined for us by Talbot, that, as we were to be up all night, we should
make our first stop at C— , a village about twenty miles from the city, and there get an
early breakfast and some repose, before proceeding upon our route. At four precisely,
therefore, the carriage drew up at the door of the principal inn. I handed my adored wife
out, and ordered breakfast forthwith. In the meantime we were shown into a small parlor,
and sat down.

It was now nearly if not altogether daylight; and, as I gazed, enraptured, at the angel by
my side, the singular idea came, all at once, into my head, that this was really the very
first moment since my acquaintance with the celebrated loveliness of Madame Lalande,
that I had enjoyed a near inspection of that loveliness by daylight at all.

"And now, mon ami," said she, taking my hand, and so interrupting this train of
reflection, "and now, mon cher ami, since we are indissolubly one-since I have yielded to
your passionate entreaties, and performed my portion of our agreement-I presume you
have not forgotten that you also have a little favor to bestow-a little promise which it is
your intention to keep. Ah! let me see! Let me remember! Yes; full easily do I call to
mind the precise words of the dear promise you made to Eugenie last night. Listen! You
spoke thus: It is done!-it is most cheerfully agreed! I sacrifice every feeling for your

sake. To-night I wear this dear eye-glass as an eye-glass, and upon my heart; but with the
earliest dawn of that morning which gives me the privilege of calling you wife, I will
place it upon my-upon my nose,-and there wear it ever afterward, in the less romantic,
and less fashionable, but certainly in the more serviceable, form which you desire.' These
were the exact words, my beloved husband, were they not?"

"They were," I said; "you have an excellent memory; and assuredly, my beautiful
Eugenie, there is no disposition on my part to evade the performance of the trivial
promise they imply. See! Behold! they are becoming-rather-are they not?" And here,
having arranged the glasses in the ordinary form of spectacles, I applied them gingerly in
their proper position; while Madame Simpson, adjusting her cap, and folding her arms,
sat bolt upright in her chair, in a somewhat stiff and prim, and indeed, in a somewhat
undignified position.

"Goodness gracious me!" I exclaimed, almost at the very instant that the rim of the
spectacles had settled upon my nose-"My goodness gracious me!-why, what can be the
matter with these glasses?" and taking them quickly off, I wiped them carefully with a
silk handkerchief, and adjusted them again.

But if, in the first instance, there had occurred something which occasioned me surprise,
in the second, this surprise became elevated into astonishment; and this astonishment was
profound-was extreme- indeed I may say it was horrific. What, in the name of everything
hideous, did this mean? Could I believe my eyes?-could I?-that was the question. Was
that-was that-was that rouge? And were those- and were those-were those wrinkles,
upon the visage of Eugenie Lalande? And oh! Jupiter, and every one of the gods and
goddesses, little and big ! what-what-what-what had become of her teeth? I dashed the
spectacles violently to the ground, and, leaping to my feet, stood erect in the middle of
the floor, confronting Mrs. Simpson, with my arms set a-kimbo, and grinning and
foaming, but, at the same time, utterly speechless with terror and with rage.

Now I have already said that Madame Eugenie Lalande-that is to say, Simpson-spoke
the English language but very little better than she wrote it, and for this reason she very
properly never attempted to speak it upon ordinary occasions. But rage will carry a lady
to any extreme; and in the present care it carried Mrs. Simpson to the very extraordinary
extreme of attempting to hold a conversation in a tongue that she did not altogether
understand.

"Veil, Monsieur," said she, after surveying me, in great apparent astonishment, for some
moments-"Vell, Monsieur?-and vat den?-vat de matter now? Is it de dance of de Saint
itusse dat you ave? If not like me, vat for vy buy de pig in the poke?"

"You wretch!" said I, catching my breath-"you-you-you villainous old hag!"

"Ag?-ole?-me not so ver ole, after all! Me not one single day more dan de eighty-doo."

"Eighty-two!" I ejaculated, staggering to the wall-"eighty-two hundred thousand
baboons! The miniature said twenty-seven years and seven months!"

"To be sure!-dat is so!-ver true! but den de portraite has been take for dese fifty-five
year. Ven I go marry my segonde usbande, Monsieur Lalande, at dat time I had de
portraite take for my daughter by my first usbande, Monsieur Moissart!"

"Moissart!" said I.

"Yes, Moissart," said she, mimicking my pronunciation, which, to speak the truth, was
none of the best,-"and vat den? Vat you know about de Moissart?"

"Nothing, you old fright!-! know nothing about him at all; only I had an ancestor of that
name, once upon a time."

"Dat name! and vat you ave for say to dat name? 'Tis ver goot name; and so is Voissart-
dat is ver goot name too. My daughter. Mademoiselle Moissart, she marry von Monsieur
Voissart,-and de name is bot ver respectaable name."

"Moissart?" I exclaimed, "and Voissart! Why, what is it you mean?"

"Vat I mean?-I mean Moissart and Voissart; and for de matter of dat, I mean Croissart
and Froisart, too, if I only tink proper to mean it. My daughter's daughter. Mademoiselle
Voissart, she marry von Monsieur Croissart, and den again, my daughter's grande
daughter. Mademoiselle Croissart, she marry von Monsieur Froissart; and I suppose you
say dat dat is not von ver respectaable name.-"

"Froissart!" said I, beginning to faint, "why, surely you don't say Moissart, and Voissart,
and Croissart, and Froissart?"

"Yes," she replied, leaning fully back in her chair, and stretching out her lower limbs at
great length; "yes, Moissart, and Voissart, and Croissart, and Froissart. But Monsieur
Froissart, he vas von ver big vat you call fool-he vas von ver great big donee like
yourself-for he lef la belle France for come to dis stupide Amerique- and ven he get here
he went and ave von ver stupide, von ver, ver stupide sonn, so I hear, dough I not yet av
ad de plaisir to meet vid him-neither me nor my companion, de Madame Stephanie
Lalande. He is name de Napoleon Bonaparte Froissart, and I suppose you say dat dat, too,
is not von ver respectable name."

Either the length or the nature of this speech, had the effect of working up Mrs. Simpson
into a very extraordinary passion indeed; and as she made an end of it, with great labor,
she lumped up from her chair like somebody bewitched, dropping upon the floor an
entire universe of bustle as she lumped. Once upon her feet, she gnashed her gums,
brandished her arms, rolled up her sleeves, shook her fist in my face, and concluded the
performance by tearing the cap from her head, and with it an immense wig of the most
valuable and beautiful black hair, the whole of which she dashed upon the ground with a

yell, and there trammpled and danced a fandango upon it, in an absolute ecstasy and
agony of rage.

Meantime I sank aghast into the chair which she had vacated. "Moissart and Voissart!" I
repeated, thoughtfully, as she cut one of her pigeon- wings, and "Croissart and Froissart!"
as she completed another-"Moissart and Voissart and Croissart and Napoleon Bonaparte
Froissart !-why, you ineffable old serpent, that's me-that's me-d'ye hear? that's me"-here
I screamed at the top of my voice-"that's me-e-e! I am Napoleon Bonaparte Froissart!
and if I havn't married my great, great, grandmother, I wish I may be everlastingly
confounded!"

Madame Eugenie Lalande, quasi Simpson-formerly Moissart-was, in sober fact, my
great, great, grandmother. In her youth she had been beautiful, and even at eighty-two,
retained the majestic height, the sculptural contour of head, the fine eyes and the Grecian
nose of her girlhood. By the aid of these, of pearl-powder, of rouge, of false hair, false
teeth, and false tournure, as well as of the most skilful modistes of Paris, she contrived to
hold a respectable footing among the beauties en peu passees of the French metropolis. In
this respect, indeed, she might have been regarded as little less than the equal of the
celebrated Ninon De L'Enclos.

She was immensely wealthy, and being left, for the second time, a widow without
children, she bethought herself of my existence in America, and for the purpose of
making me her heir, paid a visit to the United States, in company with a distant and
exceedingly lovely relative of her second husband's-a Madame Stephanie Lalande.

At the opera, my great, great, grandmother's attention was arrested by my notice; and,
upon surveying me through her eye-glass, she was struck with a certain family
resemblance to herself. Thus interested, and knowing that the heir she sought was
actually in the city, she made inquiries of her party respecting me. The gentleman who
attended her knew my person, and told her who I was. The information thus obtained
induced her to renew her scrutiny; and this scrutiny it was which so emboldened me that I
behaved in the absurd manner already detailed. She returned my bow, however, under the
impression that, by some odd accident, I had discovered her identity. When, deceived by
my weakness of vision, and the arts of the toilet, in respect to the age and charms of the
strange lady, I demanded so enthusiastically of Talbot who she was, he concluded that I
meant the younger beauty, as a matter of course, and so informed me, with perfect truth,
that she was "the celebrated widow, Madame Lalande."

In the street, next morning, my great, great, grandmother encountered Talbot, an old
Parisian acquaintance; and the conversation, very naturally turned upon myself. My
deficiencies of vision were then explained; for these were notorious, although I was
entirely ignorant of their notoriety, and my good old relative discovered, much to her
chagrin, that she had been deceived in supposing me aware of her identity, and that I had
been merely making a fool of myself in making open love, in a theatre, to an old woman
unknown. By way of punishing me for this imprudence, she concocted with Talbot a plot.
He purposely kept out of my way to avoid giving me the introduction. My street inquiries

about "the lovely widow, Madame Lalande," were supposed to refer to the younger lady,
of course, and thus the conversation with the three gentlemen whom I encountered
shortly after leaving Talbot's hotel will be easily explained, as also their allusion to Ninon
De L'Enclos. I had no opportunity of seeing Madame Lalande closely during daylight;
and, at her musical soiree, my silly weakness in refusing the aid of glasses effectually
prevented me from making a discovery of her age. When "Madame Lalande" was called
upon to sing, the younger lady was intended; and it was she who arose to obey the call;
my great, great, grandmother, to further the deception, arising at the same moment and
accompanying her to the piano in the main drawing-room. Had I decided upon escorting
her thither, it had been her design to suggest the propriety of my remaining where I was;
but my own prudential views rendered this unnecessary. The songs which I so much
admired, and which so confirmed my impression of the youth of my mistress, were
executed by Madame Stephanie Lalande. The eyeglass was presented by way of adding a
reproof to the hoax-a sting to the epigram of the deception. Its presentation afforded an
opportunity for the lecture upon affectation with which I was so especially edified. It is
almost superfluous to add that the glasses of the instrument, as worn by the old lady, had
been exchanged by her for a pair better adapted to my years. They suited me, in fact, to a
T.

The clergyman, who merely pretended to tie the fatal knot, was a boon companion of
Talbot's, and no priest. He was an excellent "whip," however; and having doffed his
cassock to put on a great-coat, he drove the hack which conveyed the "happy couple" out
of town. Talbot took a seat at his side. The two scoundrels were thus "in at the death,"
and through a half-open window of the back parlor of the inn, amused themselves in
grinning at the denouement of the drama. I believe I shall be forced to call them both out.

Nevertheless, I am not the husband of my great, great, grandmother; and this is a
reflection which affords me infinite relief,-but I am the husband of Madame Lalande-of
Madame Stephanie Lalande-with whom my good old relative, besides making me her
sole heir when she dies-if she ever does-has been at the trouble of concocting me a
match. In conclusion: I am done forever with billets doux and am never to be met without
SPECTACLES.

THE END

THE SPHINX

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

DURING the dread reign of the Cholera in New York, I had accepted the invitation of a
relative to spend a fortnight with him in the retirement of his cottage ornee on the banks
of the Hudson. We had here around us all the ordinary means of summer amusement; and
what with rambling in the woods, sketching, boating, fishing, bathing, music, and books,
we should have passed the time pleasantly enough, but for the fearful intelligence which
reached us every morning from the populous city. Not a day elapsed which did not bring
us news of the decease of some acquaintance. Then as the fatality increased, we learned
to expect daily the loss of some friend. At length we trembled at the approach of every
messenger. The very air from the South seemed to us redolent with death. That palsying
thought, indeed, took entire posession of my soul. I could neither speak, think, nor dream
of any thing else. My host was of a less excitable temperament, and, although greatly
depressed in spirits, exerted himself to sustain my own. His richly philosophical intellect
was not at any time affected by unrealities. To the substances of terror he was sufficiently
alive, but of its shadows he had no apprehension.

His endeavors to arouse me from the condition of abnormal gloom into which I had
f Allan, were frustrated, in great measure, by certain volumes which I had found in his
library. These were of a character to force into germination whatever seeds of hereditary
superstition lay latent in my bosom. I had been reading these books without his
knowledge, and thus he was often at a loss to account for the forcible impressions which
had been made upon my fancy.

A favorite topic with me was the popular belief in omens-a belief which, at this one
epoch of my life, I was almost seriously disposed to defend. On this subject we had long
and animated discussions-he maintaining the utter groundlessness of faith in such
matters,-! contending that a popular sentiment arising with absolute spontaneity- that is
to say, without apparent traces of suggestion-had in itself the unmistakable elements of
truth, and was entitled to as much respect as that intuition which is the idiosyncrasy of the
individual man of genius.

The fact is, that soon after my arrival at the cottage there had occurred to myself an
incident so entirely inexplicable, and which had in it so much of the portentous character,
that I might well have been excused for regarding it as an omen. It appalled, and at the
same time so confounded and bewildered me, that many days elapsed before I could
make up my mind to communicate the circumstances to my friend.

Near the close of exceedingly warm day, I was sitting, book in hand, at an open window,
commanding, through a long vista of the river banks, a view of a distant hill, the face of

which nearest my position had been denuded by what is termed a land-slide, of the
principal portion of its trees. My thoughts had been long wandering from the volume
before me to the gloom and desolation of the neighboring city. Uplifting my eyes from
the page, they fell upon the naked face of the bill, and upon an object-upon some living
monster of hideous conformation, which very rapidly made its way from the summit to
the bottom, disappearing finally in the dense forest below. As this creature first came in
sight, I doubted my own sanity-or at least the evidence of my own eyes; and many
minutes passed before I succeeded in convincing myself that I was neither mad nor in a
dream. Yet when I described the monster (which I distinctly saw, and calmly surveyed
through the whole period of its progress), my readers, I fear, will feel more difficulty in
being convinced of these points than even I did myself.

Estimating the size of the creature by comparison with the diameter of the large trees near
which it passed-the few giants of the forest which had escaped the fury of the land-slide-
I concluded it to be far larger than any ship of the line in existence. I say ship of the line,
because the shape of the monster suggested the idea- the hull of one of our seventy-four
might convey a very tolerable conception of the general outline. The mouth of the animal
was situated at the extremity of a proboscis some sixty or seventy feet in length, and
about as thick as the body of an ordinary elephant. Near the root of this trunk was an
immense quantity of black shaggy hair- more than could have been supplied by the coats
of a score of buffaloes; and projecting from this hair downwardly and laterally, sprang
two gleaming tusks not unlike those of the wild boar, but of infinitely greater dimensions.
Extending forward, parallel with the proboscis, and on each side of it, was a gigantic
staff, thirty or forty feet in length, formed seemingly of pure crystal and in shape a perfect
prism,-it reflected in the most gorgeous manner the rays of the declining sun. The trunk
was fashioned like a wedge with the apex to the earth. From it there were outspread two
pairs of wings- each wing nearly one hundred yards in length-one pair being placed
above the other, and all thickly covered with metal scales; each scale apparently some ten
or twelve feet in diameter. I observed that the upper and lower tiers of wings were
connected by a strong chain. But the chief peculiarity of this horrible thing was the
representation of a Death's Head, which covered nearly the whole surface of its breast,
and which was as accurately traced in glaring white, upon the dark ground of the body, as
if it had been there carefully designed by an artist. While I regarded the terrific animal,
and more especially the appearance on its breast, with a feeling or horror and awe-with a
sentiment of forthcoming evil, which I found it impossible to quell by any effort of the
reason, I perceived the huge jaws at the extremity of the proboscis suddenly expand
themselves, and from them there proceeded a sound so loud and so expressive of wo, that
it struck upon my nerves like a knell and as the monster disappeared at the foot of the
hill, I fell at once, fainting, to the floor.

Upon recovering, my first impulse, of course, was to inform my friend of what I had seen
and heard-and I can scarcely explain what feeling of repugnance it was which, in the end,
operated to prevent me.

At length, one evening, some three or four days after the occurrence, we were sitting
together in the room in which I had seen the apparition-I occupying the same seat at the

same window, and he lounging on a sofa near at hand. The association of the place and
time impelled me to give him an account of the phenomenon. He heard me to the end-at
first laughed heartily-and then lapsed into an excessively grave demeanor, as if my
insanity was a thing beyond suspicion. At this instant I again had a distinct view of the
monster- to which, with a shout of absolute terror, I now directed his attention. He looked
eagerly-but maintained that he saw nothing- although I designated minutely the course of
the creature, as it made its way down the naked face of the hill.

I was now immeasurably alarmed, for I considered the vision either as an omen of my
death, or, worse, as the fore-runner of an attack of mania. I threw myself passionately
back in my chair, and for some moments buried my face in my hands. When I uncovered
my eyes, the apparition was no longer apparent.

My host, however, had in some degree resumed the calmness of his demeanor, and
questioned me very rigorously in respect to the conformation of the visionary creature.
When I had fully satisfied him on this head, he sighed deeply, as if relieved of some
intolerable burden, and went on to talk, with what I thought a cruel calmness, of various
points of speculative philosophy, which had heretofore formed subject of discussion
between us. I remember his insisting very especially (among other things) upon the idea
that the principle source of error in all human investigations lay in the liability of the
understanding to under-rate or to over- value the importance of an object, through mere
mis-admeasurement of its propinquity. "To estimate properly, for example," he said, "the
influence to be exercised on mankind at large by the thorough diffusion of Democracy,
the distance of the epoch at which such diffusion may possibly be accomplished should
not fail to form an item in the estimate. Yet can you tell me one writer on the subject of
government who has ever thought this particular branch of the subject worthy of
discussion at all?"

He here paused for a moment, stepped to a book-case, and brought forth one of the
ordinary synopses of Natural History. Requesting me then to exchange seats with him,
that he might the better distinguish the fine print of the volume, he took my armchair at
the window, and, opening the book, resumed his discourse very much in the same tone as
before.

"But for your exceeding minuteness," he said, "in describing the monster, I might never
have had it in my power to demonstrate to you what it was. In the first place, let me read
to you a schoolboy account of the genus Sphinx, of the family Crepuscularia of the order
Lepidoptera, of the class of Insecta-or insects. The account runs thus:

"'Four membranous wings covered with little colored scales of metallic appearance;
mouth forming a rolled proboscis, produced by an elongation of the jaws, upon the sides
of which are found the rudiments of mandibles and downy palpi; the inferior wings
retained to the superior by a stiff hair; antennae in the form of an elongated club,
prismatic; abdomen pointed. The Death's-headed Sphinx has occasioned much terror
among the vulgar, at times, by the melancholy kind of cry which it utters, and the insignia
of death which it wears upon its corslet.'"

He here closed the book and leaned forward in the chair, placing himself accurately in the
position which I had occupied at the moment of beholding "the monster."

"Ah, here it is," he presently exclaimed-"it is reascending the face of the hill, and a very
remarkable looking creature I admit it to be. Still, it is by no means so large or so distant
as you imagined it,-for the fact is that, as it wriggles its way up this thread, which some
spider has wrought along the window- sash, I find it to be about the sixteenth of an inch in
its extreme length, and also about the sixteenth of an inch distant from the pupil of my
eye."

THE END

THE SYSTEM OF DR. TARR AND PROF. FETHER

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

southern provinces of France, my route led me within a few miles of a certain Maison de
Sante or private mad-house, about which I had heard much in Paris from my medical
friends. As I had never visited a place of the kind, I thought the opportunity too good to
be lost; and so proposed to my travelling companion (a gentleman with whom I had made
casual acquaintance a few days before) that we should turn aside, for an hour or so, and
look through the establishment. To this he objected-pleading haste in the first place, and,
in the second, a very usual horror at the sight of a lunatic. He begged me, however, not to
let any mere courtesy towards himself interfere with the gratification of my curiosity, and
said that he would ride on leisurely, so that I might overtake him during the day, or, at all
events, during the next. As he bade me good-bye, I bethought me that there might be
some difficulty in obtaining access to the premises, and mentioned my fears on this point.
He replied that, in fact, unless I had personal knowledge of the superintendent. Monsieur
Maillard, or some credential in the way of a letter, a difficulty might be found to exist, as
the regulations of these private mad-houses were more rigid than the public hospital laws.
For himself, he added, he had, some years since, made the acquaintance of Maillard, and
would so far assist me as to ride up to the door and introduce me; although his feelings on
the subject of lunacy would not permit of his entering the house.

I thanked him, and, turning from the main road, we entered a grass-grown by-path,
which, in half an hour, nearly lost itself in a dense forest, clothing the base of a mountain.
Through this dank and gloomy wood we rode some two miles, when the Maison de Sante
came in view. It was a fantastic chateau, much dilapidated, and indeed scarcely
tenantable through age and neglect. Its aspect inspired me with absolute dread, and,
checking my horse, I half resolved to turn back. I soon, however, grew ashamed of my
weakness, and proceeded.

As we rode up to the gate-way, I perceived it slightly open, and the visage of a man
peering through. In an instant afterward, this man came forth, accosted my companion by
name, shook him cordially by the hand, and begged him to alight. It was Monsieur
Maillard himself. He was a portly, fine-looking gentleman of the old school, with a
polished manner, and a certain air of gravity, dignity, and authority which was very
impressive.

My friend, having presented me, mentioned my desire to inspect the establishment, and
received Monsieur Maillard's assurance that he would show me all attention, now took
leave, and I saw him no more.

When he had gone, the superintendent ushered me into a small and exceedingly neat
parior, containing, among other indications of refined taste, many books, drawings, pots
of flowers, and musical instruments. A cheerful fire blazed upon the hearth. At a piano,
singing an aria from Bellini, sat a young and very beautiful woman, who, at my entrance,
paused in her song, and received me with graceful courtesy. Her voice was low, and her
whole manner subdued. I thought, too, that I perceived the traces of sorrow in her
countenance, which was excessively, although to my taste, not unpleasingly, pale. She
was attired in deep mourning, and excited in my bosom a feeling of mingled respect,
interest, and admiration.

I had heard, at Paris, that the institution of Monsieur Maillard was managed upon what is
vulgarly termed the "system of soothing "-that all punishments were avoided-that even
confinement was seldom resorted to-that the patients, while secretly watched, were left
much apparent liberty, and that most of them were permitted to roam about the house and
grounds in the ordinary apparel of persons in right mind.

Keeping these impressions in view, I was cautious in what I said before the young lady;
for I could not be sure that she was sane; and, in fact, there was a certain restless
brilliancy about her eyes which half led me to imagine she was not. I confined my
remarks, therefore, to general topics, and to such as I thought would not be displeasing or
exciting even to a lunatic. She replied in a perfectly rational manner to all that I said; and
even her original observations were marked with the soundest good sense, but a long
acquaintance with the metaphysics of mania, had taught me to put no faith in such
evidence of sanity, and I continued to practise, throughout the interview, the caution with
which I commenced it.

Presently a smart footman in livery brought in a tray with fruit, wine, and other
refreshments, of which I partook, the lady soon afterward leaving the room. As she
departed I turned my eyes in an inquiring manner toward my host.

"No," he said, "oh, no-a member of my family-my niece, and a most accomplished
woman."

"I beg a thousand pardons for the suspicion," I replied, "but of course you will know how
to excuse me. The excellent administration of your affairs here is well understood in
Paris, and I thought it just possible, you know-

"Yes, yes-say no more-or rather it is myself who should thank you for the commendable
prudence you have displayed. We seldom find so much of forethought in young men;
and, more than once, some unhappy contre-temps has occurred in consequence of
thoughtlessness on the part of our visitors. While my former system was in operation, and
my patients were permitted the privilege of roaming to and fro at will, they were often
aroused to a dangerous frenzy by injudicious persons who called to inspect the house.
Hence I was obliged to enforce a rigid system of exclusion; and none obtained access to
the premises upon whose discretion I could not rely."

"While your former system was in operation!" I said, repeating his words-"do I
understand you, then, to say that the 'soothing system' of which I have heard so much is
no longer in force?"

"It is now," he replied, "several weeks since we have concluded to renounce it forever."

"Indeed! you astonish me!"

"We found it, sir," he said, with a sigh, "absolutely necessary to return to the old usages.
The danger of the soothing system was, at all times, appalling; and its advantages have
been much overrated. I believe, sir, that in this house it has been given a fair trial, if ever
in any. We did every thing that rational humanity could suggest. I am sorry that you
could not have paid us a visit at an earlier period, that you might have judged for
yourself. But I presume you are conversant with the soothing practice-with its details."

"Not altogether. What I have heard has been at third or fourth hand."

"I may state the system, then, in general terms, as one in which the patients were
menages-humored. We contradicted no fancies which entered the brains of the mad. On
the contrary, we not only indulged but encouraged them; and many of our most
permanent cures have been thus effected. There is no argument which so touches the
feeble reason of the madman as the argumentum ad absurdum. We have had men, for
example, who fancied themselves chickens. The cure was, to insist upon the thing as a
fact-to accuse the patient of stupidity in not sufficiently perceiving it to be a fact-and
thus to refuse him any other diet for a week than that which properly appertains to a
chicken. In this manner a little corn and gravel were made to perform wonders."

"But was this species of acquiescence all?"

"By no means. We put much faith in amusements of a simple kind, such as music,
dancing, gymnastic exercises generally, cards, certain classes of books, and so forth. We
affected to treat each individual as if for some ordinary physical disorder, and the word
'lunacy' was never employed. A great point was to set each lunatic to guard the actions of
all the others. To repose confidence in the understanding or discretion of a madman, is to
gain him body and soul. In this way we were enabled to dispense with an expensive body
of keepers."

"And you had no punishments of any kind?"

"None."

"And you never confined your patients?"

"Very rarely. Now and then, the malady of some individual growing to a crisis, or taking
a sudden turn of fury, we conveyed him to a secret cell, lest his disorder should infect the

rest, and there kept him until we could dismiss him to his friends-for with the raging
maniac we have nothing to do. He is usually removed to the public hospitals."

"And you have now changed all this-and you think for the better?"

"Decidedly. The system had its disadvantages, and even its dangers. It is now, happily,
exploded throughout all the Maisons de Sante of France."

"I am very much surprised," I said, "at what you tell me; for I made sure that, at this
moment, no other method of treatment for mania existed in any portion of the country."

"You are young yet, my friend," replied my host, "but the time will arrive when you will
learn to judge for yourself of what is going on in the world, without trusting to the gossip
of others. Believe nothing you hear, and only one-half that you see. Now about our
Maisons de Sante, it is clear that some ignoramus has misled you. After dinner, however,
when you have sufficiently recovered from the fatigue of your ride, I will be happy to
take you over the house, and introduce to you a system which, in my opinion, and in that
of every one who has witnessed its operation, is incomparably the most effectual as yet
devised."

"Your own?" I inquired-"one of your own invention?"

"I am proud," he replied, "to acknowledge that it is-at least in some measure."

In this manner I conversed with Monsieur Maillard for an hour or two, during which he
showed me the gardens and conservatories of the place.

"I cannot let you see my patients," he said, "just at present. To a sensitive mind there is
always more or less of the shocking in such exhibitions; and I do not wish to spoil your
appetite for dinner. We will dine. I can give you some veal a la Menehoult, with
cauliflowers in veloute sauce-after that a glass of Clos de Vougeot-then your nerves will
be sufficiently steadied."

At six, dinner was announced; and my host conducted me into a large salle a manger,
where a very numerous company were assembled- twenty-five or thirty in all. They were,
apparently, people of rank-certainly of high breeding-although their habiliments, I
thought, were extravagantly rich, partaking somewhat too much of the ostentatious finery
of the vielle cour. I noticed that at least two-thirds of these guests were ladies; and some
of the latter were by no means accoutred in what a Parisian would consider good taste at
the present day. Many females, for example, whose age could not have been less than
seventy were bedecked with a profusion of jewelry, such as rings, bracelets, and earrings,
and wore their bosoms and arms shamefully bare. I observed, too, that very few of the
dresses were well made-or, at least, that very few of them fitted the wearers. In looking
about, I discovered the interesting girl to whom Monsieur Maillard had presented me in
the little parlor; but my surprise was great to see her wearing a hoop and farthingale, with
high-heeled shoes, and a dirty cap of Brussels lace, so much too large for her that it gave

her face a ridiculously diminutive expression. When I had first seen her, she was attired,
most becomingly, in deep mourning. There was an air of oddity, in short, about the dress
of the whole party, which, at first, caused me to recur to my original idea of the "soothing
system," and to fancy that Monsieur Maillard had been willing to deceive me until after
dinner, that I might experience no uncomfortable feelings during the repast, at finding
myself dining with lunatics; but I remembered having been informed, in Paris, that the
southern provincialists were a peculiarly eccentric people, with a vast number of
antiquated notions; and then, too, upon conversing with several members of the company,
my apprehensions were immediately and fully dispelled.

The dining-room itself, although perhaps sufficiently comfortable and of good
dimensions, had nothing too much of elegance about it. For example, the floor was
uncarpeted; in France, however, a carpet is frequently dispensed with. The windows, too,
were without curtains; the shutters, being shut, were securely fastened with iron bars,
applied diagonally, after the fashion of our ordinary shop- shutters. The apartment, I
observed, formed, in itself, a wing of the chateau, and thus the windows were on three
sides of the parallelogram, the door being at the other. There were no less than ten
windows in all.

The table was superbly set out. It was loaded with plate, and more than loaded with
delicacies. The profusion was absolutely barbaric. There were meats enough to have
feasted the Anakim. Never, in all my life, had I witnessed so lavish, so wasteful an
expenditure of the good things of life. There seemed very little taste, however, in the
arrangements; and my eyes, accustomed to quiet lights, were sadly offended by the
prodigious glare of a multitude of wax candles, which, in silver candelabra, were
deposited upon the table, and all about the room, wherever it was possible to find a place.
There were several active servants in attendance; and, upon a large table, at the farther
end of the apartment, were seated seven or eight people with fiddles, fifes, trombones,
and a drum. These fellows annoyed me very much, at intervals, during the repast, by an
infinite variety of noises, which were intended for music, and which appeared to afford
much entertainment to all present, with the exception of myself.

Upon the whole, I could not help thinking that there was much of the bizarre about every
thing I saw-but then the world is made up of all kinds of persons, with all modes of
thought, and all sorts of conventional customs. I had travelled, too, so much, as to be
quite an adept at the nil admirari; so I took my seat very coolly at the right hand of my
host, and, having an excellent appetite, did justice to the good cheer set before me.

The conversation, in the meantime, was spirited and general. The ladies, as usual, talked
a great deal. I soon found that nearly all the company were well educated; and my host
was a world of good-humored anecdote in himself. He seemed quite willing to speak of
his position as superintendent of a Maison de Sante; and, indeed, the topic of lunacy was,
much to my surprise, a favorite one with all present. A great many amusing stories were
told, having reference to the whims of the patients.

"We had a fellow here once," said a fat little gentleman, who sat at my right,-" a fellow
that fancied himself a tea-pot; and by the way, is it not especially singular how often this
particular crotchet has entered the brain of the lunatic? There is scarcely an insane asylum
in France which cannot supply a human tea-pot. Our gentleman was a Britannia-ware
tea-pot, and was careful to polish himself every morning with buckskin and whiting."

"And then," said a tall man just opposite, "we had here, not long ago, a person who had
taken it into his head that he was a donkey- which allegorically speaking, you will say,
was quite true. He was a troublesome patient; and we had much ado to keep him within
bounds. For a long time he would eat nothing but thistles; but of this idea we soon cured
him by insisting upon his eating nothing else. Then he was perpetually kicking out his
heels-so-so-"

"Mr. De Kock! I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted an old lady, who sat
next to the speaker. "Please keep your feet to yourself! You have spoiled my brocade! Is
it necessary, pray, to illustrate a remark in so practical a style? Our friend here can surely
comprehend you without all this. Upon my word, you are nearly as great a donkey as the
poor unfortunate imagined himself. Your acting is very natural, as I live."

"Mille pardons! Ma'm'selle!" replied Monsieur De Kock, thus addressed-"a thousand
pardons! I had no intention of offending. Ma'm'selle Laplace-Monsieur De Kock will do
himself the honor of taking wine with you."

Here Monsieur De Kock bowed low, kissed his hand with much ceremony, and took wine
with Ma'm'selle Laplace.

"Allow me, mon ami," now said Monsieur Maillard, addressing myself, "allow me to
send you a morsel of this veal a la St. Menhoult- you will find it particularly fine."

At this instant three sturdy waiters had just succeeded in depositing safely upon the table
an enormous dish, or trencher, containing what I supposed to be the "monstrum
horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum." A closer scrutiny assured me,
however, that it was only a small calf roasted whole, and set upon its knees, with an apple
in its mouth, as is the English fashion of dressing a hare.

"Thank you, no," I replied; "to say the truth, I am not particularly partial to veal a la St.-
what is it?-for I do not find that it altogether agrees with me. I will change my plate,
however, and try some of the rabbit."

There were several side-dishes on the table, containing what appeared to be the ordinary
French rabbit-a very delicious morceau, which I can recommend.

"Pierre," cried the host, "change this gentleman's plate, and give him a side-piece of this
rabbit au-chat."

"This what?" said I.

"This rabbit au-chat."

"Why, thank you-upon second thoughts, no. I will just help myself to some of the ham."

There is no knowing what one eats, thought I to myself, at the tables of these people of
the province. I will have none of their rabbit au-chat-and, for the matter of that, none of
their cat-au-rabbit either.

"And then," said a cadaverous looking personage, near the foot of the table, taking up the
thread of the conversation where it had been broken off,-"and then, among other oddities,
we had a patient, once upon a time, who very pertinaciously maintained himself to be a
Cordova cheese, and went about, with a knife in his hand, soliciting his friends to try a
small slice from the middle of his leg."

"He was a great fool, beyond doubt," interposed some one, "but not to be compared with
a certain individual whom we all know, with the exception of this strange gentleman. I
mean the man who took himself for a bottle of champagne, and always went off with a
pop and a fizz, in this fashion."

Here the speaker, very rudely, as I thought, put his right thumb in his left cheek,
withdrew it with a sound resembling the popping of a cork, and then, by a dexterous
movement of the tongue upon the teeth, created a sharp hissing and fizzing, which lasted
for several minutes, in imitation of the frothing of champagne. This behavior, I saw
plainly, was not very pleasing to Monsieur Maillard; but that gentleman said nothing, and
the conversation was resumed by a very lean little man in a big wig.

"And then there was an ignoramus," said he, "who mistook himself for a frog, which, by
the way, he resembled in no little degree. I wish you could have seen him, sir, "-here the
speaker addressed myself-"it would have done your heart good to see the natural airs that
he put on. Sir, if that man was not a frog, I can only observe that it is a pity he was not.
His croak thus-o-o-o-o-gh-o-o-o-o-gh! was the finest note in the world-B flat; and when
he put his elbows upon the table thus-after taking a glass or two of wine-and distended
his mouth, thus, and rolled up his eyes, thus, and winked them with excessive rapidity,
thus, why then, sir, I take it upon myself to say, positively, that you would have been lost
in admiration of the genius of the man."

"I have no doubt of it," I said.

"And then," said somebody else, "then there was Petit Gaillard, who thought himself a
pinch of snuff, and was truly distressed because he could not take himself between his
own finger and thumb."

"And then there was Jules Desoulieres, who was a very singular genius, indeed, and went
mad with the idea that he was a pumpkin. He persecuted the cook to make him up into
pies-a thing which the cook indignantly refused to do. For my part, I am by no means
sure that a pumpkin pie a la Desoulieres would not have been very capital eating indeed!"

"You astonish me!" said I; and I looked inquisitively at Monsieur Maillard.

"Ha! ha! ha!" said thatgentleman-"he! he! he!-hi! hi! hi!-ho! ho! ho!-hu! hu! hu! hu!-
very good indeed! You must not be astonished, mon ami; our friend here is a wit-a
drole-you must not understand him to the letter."

"And then," said some other one of the party ,-"then there was Bouffon Le Grand-another
extraordinary personage in his way. He grew deranged through love, and fancied himself
possessed of two heads. One of these he maintained to be the head of Cicero; the other he
imagined a composite one, being Demosthenes' from the top of the forehead to the
mouth, and Lord Brougham's from the mouth to the chin. It is not impossible that he was
wrong; but he would have convinced you of his being in the right; for he was a man of
great eloquence. He had an absolute passion for oratory, and could not refrain from
display. For example, he used to leap upon the dinner-table thus, and-and-"

Here a friend, at the side of the speaker, put a hand upon his shoulder and whispered a
few words in his ear, upon which he ceased talking with great suddenness, and sank back
within his chair.

"And then," said the friend who had whispered, "there was BouUard, the tee-totum. I call
him the tee-totum because, in fact, he was seized with the droll but not altogether
irrational crotchet, that he had been converted into a tee-totum. You would have roared
with laughter to see him spin. He would turn round upon one heel by the hour, in this
manner-so-

Here the friend whom he had just interrupted by a whisper, performed an exactly similar
office for himself.

"But then," cried the old lady, at the top of her voice, "your Monsieur BouUard was a
madman, and a very silly madman at best; for who, allow me to ask you, ever heard of a
human tee-totum? The thing is absurd. Madame Joyeuse was a more sensible person, as
you know. She had a crotchet, but it was instinct with common sense, and gave pleasure
to all who had the honor of her acquaintance. She found, upon mature deliberation, that,
by some accident, she had been turned into a chicken-cock; but, as such, she behaved
with propriety. She flapped her wings with prodigious effect-so-so-and, as for her crow,
it was delicious! Cock-a-doodle-doo !-cock-a-doodle-doo!- cock-a-doodle-de-doo-dooo-
do-o-o-o-o-o-o!"

"Madame Joyeuse, I will thank you to behave yourself!" here interrupted our host, very
angrily. "You can either conduct yourself as a lady should do, or you can quit the table
forth with-take your choice."

The lady (whom I was much astonished to hear addressed as Madame Joyeuse, after the
description of Madame Joyeuse she had just given) blushed up to the eyebrows, and
seemed exceedingly abashed at the reproof. She hung down her head, and said not a

syllable in reply. But another and younger lady resumed the theme. It was my beautiful
girl of the little parlor.

"Oh, Madame Joyeuse was a fool!" she exclaimed, "but there was really much sound
sense, after all, in the opinion of Eugenie Salsafette. She was a very beautiful and
painfully modest young lady, who thought the ordinary mode of habiliment indecent, and
wished to dress herself, always, by getting outside instead of inside of her clothes. It is a
thing very easily done, after all. You have only to do so-and then so-so-so-and then so-
so-so-and then so-so-and then-

"Mon dieu! Ma'm'selle Salsafette!" here cried a dozen voices at once. "What are you
about ?-forbear!-that is sufficient! -we see, very plainly, how it is done!-hold! hold!" and
several persons were already leaping from their seats to withhold Ma'm'selle Salsafette
from putting herself upon a par with the Medicean Venus, when the point was very
effectually and suddenly accomplished by a series of loud screams, or yells, from some
portion of the main body of the chateau.

My nerves were very much affected, indeed, by these yells; but the rest of the company I
really pitied. I never saw any set of reasonable people so thoroughly frightened in my
life. They all grew as pale as so many corpses, and, shrinking within their seats, sat
quivering and gibbering with terror, and listening for a repetition of the sound. It came
again-louder and seemingly nearer-and then a third time very loud, and then a fourth
time with a vigor evidently diminished. At this apparent dying away of the noise, the
spirits of the company were immediately regained, and all was life and anecdote as
before. I now ventured to inquire the cause of the disturbance.

"A mere bagtelle," said Monsieur Maillard. "We are used to these things, and care really
very little about them. The lunatics, every now and then, get up a howl in concert; one
starting another, as is sometimes the case with a bevy of dogs at night. It occasionally
happens, however, that the concerto yells are succeeded by a simultaneous effort at
breaking loose, when, of course, some little danger is to be apprehended."

"And how many have you in charge?"

"At present we have not more than ten, altogether."

"Principally females, I presume?"

"Oh, no-every one of them men, and stout fellows, too, I can tell you."

"Indeed! I have always understood that the majority of lunatics were of the gentler sex."

"It is generally so, but not always. Some time ago, there were about twenty-seven patients
here; and, of that number, no less than eighteen were women; but, lately, matters have
changed very much, as you see."

"Yes-have changed very much, as you see," here interrupted the gentleman who had
broken the shins of Ma'm'selle Laplace.

"Yes-have changed very much, as you see!" chimed in the whole company at once.

"Hold your tongues, every one of you!" said my host, in a great rage. Whereupon the
whole company maintained a dead silence for nearly a minute. As for one lady, she
obeyed Monsieur Maillard to the letter, and thrusting out her tongue, which was an
excessively long one, held it very resignedly, with both hands, until the end of the
entertainment.

"And this gentlewoman," said I, to Monsieur Maillard, bending over and addressing him
in a whisper-"this good lady who has just spoken, and who gives us the cock-a-doodle-
de-doo-she, I presume, is harmless-quite harmless, eh?"

"Harmless!" ejaculated he, in unfeigned surprise, "why-why, what can you mean?"

"Only slightly touched?" said I, touching my head. "I take it for granted that she is not
particularly not dangerously affected, eh?"

"Mon dieu! what is it you imagine? This lady, my particular old friend Madame Joyeuse,
is as absolutely sane as myself. She has her little eccentricities, to be sure-but then, you
know, all old women-all very old women-are more or less eccentric!"

"To be sure," said I,-"to be sure-and then the rest of these ladies and gentlemen-"

"Are my friends and keepers," interupted Monsieur Maillard, drawing himself up with
hauteur,-"my very good friends and assistants."

"What! all of them?" I asked,-"the women and all?"

"Assuredly," he said,-"we could not do at all without the women; they are the best lunatic
nurses in the world; they have a way of their own, you know; their bright eyes have a
marvellous effect;- something like the fascination of the snake, you know."

"To be sure," said I,-"to be sure! They behave a little odd, eh?- they are a little queer,
eh?-don't you think so?"

"Odd!-queer!-why, do you really think so? We are not very prudish, to be sure, here in
the South-do pretty much as we please-enjoy life, and all that sort of thing, you know-"

"To be sure," said I,-"to be sure."

And then, perhaps, this Clos de Vougeot is a little heady, you know- a little strong-you
understand, eh?"

"To be sure," said I -"to be sure. By the bye, Monsieur, did I understand you to say that
the system you have adopted, in place of the celebrated soothing system, was one of very
rigorous severity?"

"By no means. Our confinement is necessarily close; but the treatment-the medical
treatment, I mean-is rather agreeable to the patients than otherwise."

"And the new system is one of your own invention?"

"Not altogether. Some portions of it are referable to Professor Tarr, of whom you have,
necessarily, heard; and, again, there are modifications in my plan which I am happy to
acknowledge as belonging of right to the celebrated Fether, with whom, if I mistake not,
you have the honor of an intimate acquaintance."

"I am quite ashamed to confess," I replied, "that I have never even heard the names of
either gentleman before."

"Good heavens!" ejaculated my host, drawing back his chair abruptly, and uplifting his
hands. "I surely do not hear you aright! You did not intend to say, eh? that you had never
heard either of the learned Doctor Tarr, or of the celebrated Professor Fether?"

"I am forced to acknowledge my ignorance," I replied; "but the truth should be held
inviolate above all things. Nevertheless, I feel humbled to the dust, not to be acquainted
with the works of these, no doubt, extraordinary men. I will seek out their writings
forthwith, and peruse them with deliberate care. Monsieur Maillard, you have really-I
must confess it-you have really-made me ashamed of myself!"

And this was the fact.

"Say no more, my good young friend," he said kindly, pressing my hand,-"join me now
in a glass of Sauterne."

We drank. The company followed our example without stint. They chatted-they jested-
they laughed-they perpetrated a thousand absurdities-the fiddles shrieked-the drum row-
de-dowed-the trombones bellowed like so many brazen bulls of Phalaris-and the whole
scene, growing gradually worse and worse, as the wines gained the ascendancy, became
at length a sort of pandemonium in petto. In the meantime. Monsieur Maillard and
myself, with some bottles of Sauterne and Vougeot between us, continued our
conversation at the top of the voice. A word spoken in an ordinary key stood no more
chance of being heard than the voice of a fish from the bottom of Niagra Falls.

"And, sir," said I, screaming in his ear, "you mentioned something before dinner about
the danger incurred in the old system of soothing. How is that?"

"Yes," he replied, "there was, occasionally, very great danger indeed. There is no
accounting for the caprices of madmen; and, in my opinion as well as in that of Dr. Tarr

and Professor Fether, it is never safe to permit them to run at large unattended. A lunatic
may be 'soothed,' as it is called, for a time, but, in the end, he is very apt to become
obstreperous. His cunning, too, is proverbial and great. If he has a project in view, he
conceals his design with a marvellous wisdom; and the dexterity with which he
counterfeits sanity, presents, to the metaphysician, one of the most singular problems in
the study of mind. When a madman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to
put him in a straitjacket."

"But the danger, my dear sir, of which you were speaking, in your own experience-
during your control of this house-have you had practical reason to think liberty
hazardous in the case of a lunatic?"

"Here?-in my own experience?-why, I may say, yes. For example:-no very long while
ago, a singular circumstance occurred in this very house. The 'soothing system,' you
know, was then in operation, and the patients were at large. They behaved remarkably
well-especially so, any one of sense might have known that some devilish scheme was
brewing from that particular fact, that the fellows behaved so remarkably well. And, sure
enough, one fine morning the keepers found themselves pinioned hand and foot, and
thrown into the cells, where they were attended, as if they were the lunatics, by the
lunatics themselves, who had usurped the offices of the keepers."

"You don't tell me so! I never heard of any thing so absurd in my life!"

"Fact-it all came to pass by means of a stupid fellow-a lunatic- who, by some means, had
taken it into his head that he had invented a better system of government than any ever
heard of before-of lunatic government, I mean. He wished to give his invention a trial, I
suppose, and so he persuaded the rest of the patients to join him in a conspiracy for the
overthrow of the reigning powers."

"And he really succeeded?"

"No doubt of it. The keepers and kept were soon made to exchange places. Not that
exactly either-for the madmen had been free, but the keepers were shut up in cells
forthwith, and treated, I am sorry to say, in a very cavalier manner."

"But I presume a counter-revolution was soon effected. This condition of things could not
have long existed. The country people in the neighborhood-visitors coming to see the
establishment- would have given the alarm."

"There you are out. The head rebel was too cunning for that. He admitted no visitors at
all-with the exception, one day, of a very stupid-looking young gentleman of whom he
had no reason to be afraid. He let him in to see the place-just by way of variety ,-to have
a little fun with him. As soon as he had gammoned him sufficiently, he let him out, and
sent him about his business."

"And how long, then, did the madmen reign?"

"Oh, a very long time, indeed-a month certainly-how much longer I can't precisely say.
In the meantime, the lunatics had a jolly season of it-that you may swear. They doffed
their own shabby clothes, and made free with the family wardrobe and jewels. The cellars
of the chateau were well stocked with wine; and these madmen are just the devils that
know how to drink it. They lived well, I can tell you."

"And the treatment-what was the particular species of treatment which the leader of the
rebels put into operation?"

"Why, as for that, a madman is not necessarily a fool, as I have already observed; and it is
my honest opinion that his treatment was a much better treatment than that which it
superseded. It was a very capital system indeed-simple-neat-no trouble at all-in fact it
was delicious it was

Here my host's observations were cut short by another series of yells, of the same
character as those which had previously disconcerted us. This time, however, they
seemed to proceed from persons rapidly approaching.

"Gracious heavens!" I ejaculated-"the lunatics have most undoubtedly broken loose."

"I very much fear it is so," replied Monsieur Maillard, now becoming excessively pale.
He had scarcely finished the sentence, before loud shouts and imprecations were heard
beneath the windows; and, immediately afterward, it became evident that some persons
outside were endeavoring to gain entrance into the room. The door was beaten with what
appeared to be a sledge-hammer, and the shutters were wrenched and shaken with
prodigious violence.

A scene of the most terrible confusion ensued. Monsieur Maillard, to my excessive
astonishment threw himself under the side-board. I had expected more resolution at his
hands. The members of the orchestra, who, for the last fifteen minutes, had been
seemingly too much intoxicated to do duty, now sprang all at once to their feet and to
their instruments, and, scrambling upon their table, broke out, with one accord, into,
"Yankee Doodle," which they performed, if not exactly in tune, at least with an energy
superhuman, during the whole of the uproar.

Meantime, upon the main dining-table, among the bottles and glasses, leaped the
gentleman who, with such difficulty, had been restrained from leaping there before. As
soon as he fairly settled himself, he commenced an oration, which, no doubt, was a very
capital one, if it could only have been heard. At the same moment, the man with the
teetotum predilection, set himself to spinning around the apartment, with immense
energy, and with arms outstretched at right angles with his body; so that he had all the air
of a tee-totum in fact, and knocked everybody down that happened to get in his way. And
now, too, hearing an incredible popping and fizzing of champagne, I discovered at length,
that it proceeded from the person who performed the bottle of that delicate drink during
dinner. And then, again, the frog-man croaked away as if the salvation of his soul
depended upon every note that he uttered. And, in the midst of all this, the continuous

braying of a donkey arose over all. As for my old friend, Madame Joyeuse, I really could
have wept for the poor lady, she appeared so terribly perplexed. All she did, however,
was to stand up in a corner, by the fireplace, and sing out incessantly at the top of her
voice, "Cock-a-doodle-de-dooooooh ! "

And now came the climax-the catastrophe of the drama. As no resistance, beyond
whooping and yelling and cock-a-doodling, was offered to the encroachments of the
party without, the ten windows were very speedily, and almost simultaneously, broken in.
But I shall never forget the emotions of wonder and horror with which I gazed, when,
leaping through these windows, and down among us pele-mele, fighting, stamping,
scratching, and howling, there rushed a perfect army of what I took to be Chimpanzees,
Ourang-Outangs, or big black baboons of the Cape of Good Hope.

I received a terrible beating-after which I rolled under a sofa and lay still. After lying
there some fifteen minutes, during which time I listened with all my ears to what was
going on in the room, I came to same satisfactory denouement of this tragedy. Monsieur
Maillard, it appeared, in giving me the account of the lunatic who had excited his fellows
to rebellion, had been merely relating his own exploits. This gentleman had, indeed, some
two or three years before, been the superintendent of the establishment, but grew crazy
himself, and so became a patient. This fact was unknown to the travelling companion
who introduced me. The keepers, ten in number, having been suddenly overpowered,
were first well tarred, then-carefuUy feathered, and then shut up in underground cells.
They had been so imprisoned for more than a month, during which period Monsieur
Maillard had generously allowed them not only the tar and feathers (which constituted his
"system"), but some bread and abundance of water. The latter was pumped on them daily.
At length, one escaping through a sewer, gave freedom to all the rest.

The "soothing system," with important modifications, has been resumed at the chateau;
yet I cannot help agreeing with Monsieur Maillard, that his own "treatment" was a very
capital one of its kind. As he justly observed, it was "simple-neat-and gave no trouble at
ail-not the least."

I have only to add that, although I have searched every library in Europe for the works of
Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether, I have, up to the present day, utterly failed in my
endeavors at procuring an edition.

THE END

THE TELL-TALE HEART

by Edgar Allan Poe

1843

TRUE! —nervous -very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you
say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses —not destroyed -not dulled
them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the
earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how
healthily —how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted
me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man.
He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I
think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture —a pale blue eye, with a
film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees —very
gradually —I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the
eye forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have
seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded —with what caution -with what
foresight —with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man
than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I
turned the latch of his door and opened it —oh so gently! And then, when I had made an
opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, that no light
shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how
cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly -very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb
the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far
that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! would a madman have been so wise as
this. And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously-oh, so
cautiously -cautiously (for the hinges creaked) —I undid it just so much that a single thin
ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights —every night just at
midnight —but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for
it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the
day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, caUing him by
name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he would
have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I
looked in upon him while he slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's
minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the
extent of my own powers —of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of
triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to
dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard

me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back
-but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were
close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening
of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin
fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out -"Who's there?"

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the
meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening; -just as
I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a
groan of pain or of grief -oh, no! —it was the low stifled sound that arises from the
bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just
at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening,
with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the
old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying
awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been
ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not.
He had been saying to himself —"It is nothing but the wind in the chimney —it is only a
mouse crossing the floor," or "It is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes,
he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in
vain. All in vain; because Death, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow
before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the
unperceived shadow that caused him to feel —although he neither saw nor heard —to feel
the presence of my head within the room.

When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved
to open a little —a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it —you cannot
imagine how stealthily, stealthily -until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of the
spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.

It was open —wide, wide open —and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with
perfect distinctness —all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very
marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person: for I
had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.

And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the
sense? -now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch
makes when enveloped 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 refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I
tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eve. Meantime the hellish tattoo of

the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The
old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! —
do you mark me well I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead
hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this
excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood
still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new
anxiety seized me —the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had
come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked
once —once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over
him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart
beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard
through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and
examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and
held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eve would
trouble me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise
precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked
hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the
arms and the legs.

I then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between
the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye —
not even his -could have detected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out —no
stain of any kind -no blood- spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had
caught all -ha! ha!

When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock —still dark as midnight. As
the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open
it with a light heart, —for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who
introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been
heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused;
information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed
to search the premises.

I smiled, —for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was
my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my
visitors all over the house. I bade them search —search well. I led them, at length, to his
chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my
confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their
fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat
upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease.
They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I
felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in

my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct: —It
continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it
continued and gained definiteness —until, at length, I found that the noise was not within
my ears.

No doubt I now grew very pale; —but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice.
Yet the sound increased —and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound —much
such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath —and yet
the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly —more vehemently; but the noise steadily
increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations;
but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro
with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men —but the noise
steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed -I raved -I swore! I swung the
chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose
over all and continually increased. It grew louder —louder —louder! And still the men
chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! -no, no!
They heard! —they suspected! —they knew! —they were making a mockery of my horror! -
this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was
more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt
that I must scream or die! and now —again! —hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! —tear up the planks! here,
here! —It is the beating of his hideous heart!"

THE END

THE THOUSAND- AND-SECOND TALE OF
SCHEHERAZADE

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

Truth is stranger than fiction.
OLD SAYING.

HAVING had occasion, lately, in the course of some Oriental investigations, to consult
the Tellmenow Isitsoomot, a work which (like the Zohar of Simeon Jochaides) is scarcely
known at all, even in Europe; and which has never been quoted, to my knowledge, by any
American-if we except, perhaps, the author of the "Curiosities of American Literature";-
having had occasion, I say, to turn over some pages of the first-mentioned very
remarkable work, I was not a little astonished to discover that the literary world has
hitherto been strangely in error respecting the fate of the vizier's daughter, Scheherazade,
as that fate is depicted in the "Arabian Nights"; and that the denouement there given, if
not altogether inaccurate, as far as it goes, is at least to blame in not having gone very
much farther.

For full information on this interesting topic, I must refer the inquisitive reader to the
"Isitsoornot" itself, but in the meantime, I shall be pardoned for giving a summary of
what I there discovered.

It will be remembered, that, in the usual version of the tales, a certain monarch having
good cause to be jealous of his queen, not only puts her to death, but makes a vow, by his
beard and the prophet, to espouse each night the most beautiful maiden in his dominions,
and the next morning to deliver her up to the executioner.

Having fulfilled this vow for many years to the letter, and with a religious punctuality and
method that conferred great credit upon him as a man of devout feeling and excellent
sense, he was interrupted one afternoon (no doubt at his prayers) by a visit from his grand
vizier, to whose daughter, it appears, there had occurred an idea.

Her name was Scheherazade, and her idea was, that she would either redeem the land
from the depopulating tax upon its beauty, or perish, after the approved fashion of all
heroines, in the attempt.

Accordingly, and although we do not find it to be leap-year (which makes the sacrifice
more meritorious), she deputes her father, the grand vizier, to make an offer to the king of
her hand. This hand the king eagerly accepts-(he had intended to take it at all events, and
had put off the matter from day to day, only through fear of the vizier), -but, in accepting

it now, he gives all parties very distinctly to understand, that, grand vizier or no grand
vizier, he has not the slightest design of giving up one iota of his vow or of his privileges.
When, therefore, the fair Scheherazade insisted upon marrying the king, and did actually
marry him despite her father's excellent advice not to do any thing of the kind-when she
would and did marry him, I say, will I, nill I, it was with her beautiful black eyes as
thoroughly open as the nature of the case would allow.

It seems, however, that this politic damsel (who had been reading Machiavelli, beyond
doubt), had a very ingenious little plot in her mind. On the night of the wedding, she
contrived, upon I forget what specious pretence, to have her sister occupy a couch
sufficiently near that of the royal pair to admit of easy conversation from bed to bed; and,
a little before cock-crowing, she took care to awaken the good monarch, her husband
(who bore her none the worse will because he intended to wring her neck on the
morrow),-she managed to awaken him, I say, (although on account of a capital
conscience and an easy digestion, he slept well) by the profound interest of a story (about
a rat and a black cat, I think) which she was narrating (all in an undertone, of course) to
her sister. When the day broke, it so happened that this history was not altogether
finished, and that Scheherazade, in the nature of things could not finish it just then, since
it was high time for her to get up and be bowstrung-a thing very little more pleasant than
hanging, only a trifle more genteel.

The king's curiosity, however, prevailing, I am sorry to say, even over his sound religious
principles, induced him for this once to postpone the fulfilment of his vow until next
morning, for the purpose and with the hope of hearing that night how it fared in the end
with the black cat (a black cat, I think it was) and the rat.

The night having arrived, however, the lady Scheherazade not only put the finishing
stroke to the black cat and the rat (the rat was blue) but before she well knew what she
was about, found herself deep in the intricacies of a narration, having reference (if I am
not altogether mistaken) to a pink horse (with green wings) that went, in a violent
manner, by clockwork, and was wound up with an indigo key. With this history the king
was even more profoundly interested than with the other-and, as the day broke before its
conclusion (notwithstanding all the queen's endeavors to get through with it in time for
the bowstringing), there was again no resource but to postpone that ceremony as before,
for twenty-four hours. The next night there happened a similar accident with a similar
result; and then the next-and then again the next; so that, in the end, the good monarch,
having been unavoidably deprived of all opportunity to keep his vow during a period of
no less than one thousand and one nights, either forgets it altogether by the expiration of
this time, or gets himself absolved of it in the regular way, or (what is more probable)
breaks it outright, as well as the head of his father confessor. At all events, Scheherazade,
who, being lineally descended from Eve, fell heir, perhaps, to the whole seven baskets of
talk, which the latter lady, we all know, picked up from under the trees in the garden of
Eden-Scheherazade, I say, finally triumphed, and the tariff upon beauty was repealed.

Now, this conclusion (which is that of the story as we have it upon record) is, no doubt,
excessively proper and pleasant-but alas! like a great many pleasant things, is more

pleasant than trae, and I am indebted altogether to the "Isitsoomot" for the means of
correcting the error. "Le mieux," says a French proverb, "est I'ennemi du bien," and, in
mentioning that Scheherazade had inherited the seven baskets of talk, I should have
added that she put them out at compound interest until they amounted to seventy- seven.

"My dear sister," said she, on the thousand-and-second night, (I quote the language of the
"Isitsoornot" at this point, verbatim) "my dear sister," said she, "now that all this little
difficulty about the bowstring has blown over, and that this odious tax is so happily
repealed, I feel that I have been guilty of great indiscretion in withholding from you and
the king (who I am sorry to say, snores-a thing no gentleman would do) the full
conclusion of Sinbad the sailor. This person went through numerous other and more
interesting adventures than those which I related; but the truth is, I felt sleepy on the
particular night of their narration, and so was seduced into cutting them short-a grievous
piece of misconduct, for which I only trust that Allah will forgive me. But even yet it is
not too late to remedy my great neglect-and as soon as I have given the king a pinch or
two in order to wake him up so far that he may stop making that horrible noise, I will
forthwith entertain you (and him if he pleases) with the sequel of this very remarkable
story.

Hereupon the sister of Scheherazade, as I have it from the "Isitsoornot," expressed no
very particular intensity of gratification; but the king, having been sufficiently pinched, at
length ceased snoring, and finally said, "hum!" and then "hoo!" when the queen,
understanding these words (which are no doubt Arabic) to signify that he was all
attention, and would do his best not to snore any more-the queen, I say, having arranged
these matters to her satisfaction, re-entered thus, at once, into the history of Sinbad the
sailor:

"'At length, in my old age, [these are the words of Sinbad himself, as retailed by
Scheherazade]-' at length, in my old age, and after enjoying many years of tranquillity at
home, I became once more possessed of a desire of visiting foreign countries; and one
day, without acquainting any of my family with my design, I packed up some bundles of
such merchandise as was most precious and least bulky, and, engaged a porter to carry
them, went with him down to the sea-shore, to await the arrival of any chance vessel that
might convey me out of the kingdom into some region which I had not as yet explored.

"'Having deposited the packages upon the sands, we sat down beneath some trees, and
looked out into the ocean in the hope of perceiving a ship, but during several hours we
saw none whatever. At length I fancied that I could hear a singular buzzing or humming
sound; and the porter, after listening awhile, declared that he also could distinguish it.
Presently it grew louder, and then still louder, so that we could have no doubt that the
object which caused it was approaching us. At length, on the edge of the horizon, we
discovered a black speck, which rapidly increased in size until we made it out to be a vast
monster, swimming with a great part of its body above the surface of the sea. It came
toward us with inconceivable swiftness, throwing up huge waves of foam around its
breast, and illuminating all that part of the sea through which it passed, with a long line of
fire that extended far off into the distance.

'"As the thing drew near we saw it very distinctly. Its length was equal to that of three of
the loftiest trees that grow, and it was as wide as the great hall of audience in your palace,
O most sublime and munificent of the Caliphs. Its body, which was unlike that of
ordinary fishes, was as solid as a rock, and of a jetty blackness throughout all that portion
of it which floated above the water, with the exception of a narrow blood-red streak that
completely begirdled it. The belly, which floated beneath the surface, and of which we
could get only a glimpse now and then as the monster rose and fell with the billows, was
entirely covered with metallic scales, of a color like that of the moon in misty weather.
The back was flat and nearly white, and from it there extended upwards of six spines,
about half the length of the whole body.

'"The horrible creature had no mouth that we could perceive, but, as if to make up for this
deficiency, it was provided with at least four score of eyes, that protruded from their
sockets like those of the green dragon-fly, and were arranged all around the body in two
rows, one above the other, and parallel to the blood-red streak, which seemed to answer
the purpose of an eyebrow. Two or three of these dreadful eyes were much larger than the
others, and had the appearance of solid gold.

'"Although this beast approached us, as I have before said, with the greatest rapidity, it
must have been moved altogether by necromancy- for it had neither fins like a fish nor
web-feet like a duck, nor wings like the seashell which is blown along in the manner of a
vessel; nor yet did it writhe itself forward as do the eels. Its head and its tail were shaped
precisely alike, only, not far from the latter, were two small holes that served for nostrils,
and through which the monster puffed out its thick breath with prodigious violence, and
with a shrieking, disagreeable noise.

'"Our terror at beholding this hideous thing was very great, but it was even surpassed by
our astonishment, when upon getting a nearer look, we perceived upon the creature's back
a vast number of animals about the size and shape of men, and altogether much
resembling them, except that they wore no garments (as men do), being supplied (by
nature, no doubt) with an ugly uncomfortable covering, a good deal like cloth, but fitting
so tight to the skin, as to render the poor wretches laughably awkward, and put them
apparently to severe pain. On the very tips of their heads were certain square-looking
boxes, which, at first sight, I thought might have been intended to answer as turbans, but I
soon discovered that they were excessively heavy and solid, and I therefore concluded
they were contrivances designed, by their great weight, to keep the heads of the animals
steady and safe upon their shoulders. Around the necks of the creatures were fastened
black collars, (badges of servitude, no doubt,) such as we keep on our dogs, only much
wider and infinitely stiffer, so that it was quite impossible for these poor victims to move
their heads in any direction without moving the body at the same time; and thus they
were doomed to perpetual contemplation of their noses-a view puggish and snubby in a
wonderful, if not positively in an awful degree.

'"When the monster had nearly reached the shore where we stood, it suddenly pushed out
one of its eyes to a great extent, and emitted from it a terrible flash of fire, accompanied
by a dense cloud of smoke, and a noise that I can compare to nothing but thunder. As the

smoke cleared away, we saw one of the odd man-animals standing near the head of the
large beast with a trumpet in his hand, through which (putting it to his mouth) he
presently addressed us in loud, harsh, and disagreeable accents, that, perhaps, we should
have mistaken for language, had they not come altogether through the nose.

'"Being thus evidently spoken to, I was at a loss how to reply, as I could in no manner
understand what was said; and in this difficulty I turned to the porter, who was near
swooning through affright, and demanded of him his opinion as to what species of
monster it was, what it wanted, and what kind of creatures those were that so swarmed
upon its back. To this the porter replied, as well as he could for trepidation, that he had
once before heard of this sea-beast; that it was a cruel demon, with bowels of sulphur and
blood of fire, created by evil genii as the means of inflicting misery upon mankind; that
the things upon its back were vermin, such as sometimes infest cats and dogs, only a little
larger and more savage; and that these vermin had their uses, however evil-for, through
the torture they caused the beast by their nibbling and stingings, it was goaded into that
degree of wrath which was requisite to make it roar and commit ill, and so fulfil the
vengeful and malicious designs of the wicked genii.

"This account determined me to take to my heels, and, without once even looking behind
me, I ran at full speed up into the hills, while the porter ran equally fast, although nearly
in an opposite direction, so that, by these means, he finally made his escape with my
bundles, of which I have no doubt he took excellent care-although this is a point I cannot
determine, as I do not remember that I ever beheld him again.

'"For myself, I was so hotly pursued by a swarm of the men- vermin (who had come to the
shore in boats) that I was very soon overtaken, bound hand and foot, and conveyed to the
beast, which immediately swam out again into the middle of the sea.

'"I now bitterly repented my folly in quitting a comfortable home to peril my life in such
adventures as this; but regret being useless, I made the best of my condition, and exerted
myself to secure the goodwill of the man-animal that owned the trumpet, and who
appeared to exercise authority over his fellows. I succeeded so well in this endeavor that,
in a few days, the creature bestowed upon me various tokens of his favor, and in the end
even went to the trouble of teaching me the rudiments of what it was vain enough to
denominate its language; so that, at length, I was enabled to converse with it readily, and
came to make it comprehend the ardent desire I had of seeing the world.

'"Washish squashish squeak, Sinbad, hey-diddle diddle, grunt unt grumble, hiss, fiss,
whiss,' said he to me, one day after dinner- but I beg a thousand pardons, I had forgotten
that your majesty is not conversant with the dialect of the Cock-neighs (so the man-
animals were called; I presume because their language formed the connecting link
between that of the horse and that of the rooster). With your permission, I will translate.
'Washish squashish,' and so forth:-that is to say, 'I am happy to find, my dear Sinbad, that
you are really a very excellent fellow; we are now about doing a thing which is called
circumnavigating the globe; and since you are so desirous of seeing the world, I will
strain a point and give you a free passage upon back of the beast.'"

When the Lady Scheherazade had proceeded thus far, relates the "Isitsoornot," the king
turned over from his left side to his right, and said:

"It is, in fact, very surprising, my dear queen, that you omitted, hitherto, these latter
adventures of Sinbad. Do you know I think them exceedingly entertaining and strange?"

The king having thus expressed himself, we are told, the fair Scheherazade resumed her
history in the following words:

"Sinbad went on in this manner with his narrative to the caliph- 1 thanked the man-
animal for its kindness, and soon found myself very much at home on the beast, which
swam at a prodigious rate through the ocean; although the surface of the latter is, in that
part of the world, by no means flat, but round like a pomegranate, so that we went-so to
say-either up hill or down hill all the time.'

"That I think, was very singular," interrupted the king.

"Nevertheless, it is quite true," replied Scheherazade.

"I have my doubts," rejoined the king; "but, pray, be so good as to go on with the story."

"I will," said the queen. "'The beast,' continued Sinbad to the caliph, 'swam, as I have
related, up hill and down hill until, at length, we arrived at an island, many hundreds of
miles in circumference, but which, nevertheless, had been built in the middle of the sea
by a colony of little things like caterpillars'"*

* The coralites.

"Hum!" said the king.

'"Leaving this island,' said Sinbad-(for Scheherazade, it must be understood, took no
notice of her husband's ill-mannered ejaculation) 'leaving this island, we came to another
where the forests were of solid stone, and so hard that they shivered to pieces the finest-
tempered axes with which we endeavoured to cut them down.'"*

* "One of the most remarkable natural curiosities in Texas is a petrified forest, near the
head of Pasigno river. It consists of several hundred trees, in an erect position, all turned
to stone. Some trees, now growing, are partly petrified. This is a startling fact for natural
philosophers, and must cause them to modify the existing theory of petrification.-
Kennedy.

This account, at first discredited, has since been corroborated by the discovery of a
completely petrified forest, near the head waters of the Cheyenne, or Chienne river,
which has its source in the Black Hills of the rocky chain.

There is scarcely, perhaps, a spectacle on the surface of the globe more remarkable, either
in a geological or picturesque point of view than that presented by the petrified forest,
near Cairo. The traveller, having passed the tombs of the caliphs, just beyond the gates of
the city, proceeds to the southward, nearly at right angles to the road across the desert to
Suez, and after having travelled some ten miles up a low barren valley, covered with
sand, gravel, and sea shells, fresh as if the tide had retired but yesterday, crosses a low
range of sandhills, which has for some distance run parallel to his path. The scene now
presented to him is beyond conception singular and desolate. A mass of fragments of
trees, all converted into stone, and when struck by his horse's hoof ringing like cast iron,
is seen to extend itself for miles and miles around him, in the form of a decayed and
prostrate forest. The wood is of a dark brown hue, but retains its form in perfection, the
pieces being from one to fifteen feet in length, and from half a foot to three feet in
thickness, strewed so closely together, as far as the eye can reach, that an Egyptian
donkey can scarcely thread its way through amongst them, and so natural that, were it in
Scotland or Ireland, it might pass without remark for some enormous drained bog, on
which the exhumed trees lay rotting in the sun. The roots and rudiments of the branches
are, in many cases, nearly perfect, and in some the worm-holes eaten under the bark are
readily recognizable. The most delicate of the sap vessels, and all the finer portions of the
centre of the wood, are perfectly entire, and bear to be examined with the strongest
magnifiers. The whole are so thoroughly silicified as to scratch glass and are capable of
receiving the highest polish.- Asiatic Magazine.

"Hum!" said the king, again; but Scheherazade, paying him no attention, continued in the
language of Sinbad.

"'Passing beyond this last island, we reached a country where there was a cave that ran to
the distance of thirty or forty miles within the bowels of the earth, and that contained a
greater number of far more spacious and more magnificent palaces than are to be found
in all Damascus and Bagdad. From the roofs of these palaces there hung myriads of
gems, liked diamonds, but larger than men; and in among the streets of towers and
pyramids and temples, there flowed immense rivers as black as ebony, and swarming
with fish that had no eyes.'"*

* The Mammoth Cave of Kentucky.

"Hum!" said the king.

'"We then swam into a region of the sea where we found a lofty mountain, down whose
sides there streamed torrents of melted metal, some of which were twelve miles wide and
sixty miles long*; while from an abyss on the summit, issued so vast a quantity of ashes
that the sun was entirely blotted out from the heavens, and it became darker than the
darkest midnight; so that when we were even at the distance of a hundred and fifty miles
from the mountain, it was impossible to see the whitest object, however close we held it
to our eyes. "'*(2)

* In Iceland, 1783.

*(2) "During the eruption of Hecla, in 1766, clouds of this kind produced such a degree
of darkness that, at Glaumba, which is more than fifty leagues from the mountain, people
could only find their way by groping. During the eruption of Vesuvius, in 1794, at
Caserta, four leagues distant, people could only walk by the light of torches. On the first
of May, 1812, a cloud of volcanic ashes and sand, coming from a volcano in the island of
St. Vincent, covered the whole of Barbadoes, spreading over it so intense a darkness that,
at mid-day, in the open air, one could not perceive the trees or other objects near him, or
even a white handkerchief placed at the distance of six inches from the eye. "-Murray, p.
215, Phil. edit.

"Hum!" said the king.

"'After quitting this coast, the beast continued his voyage until we met with a land in
which the nature of things seemed reversed-for we here saw a great lake, at the bottom of
which, more than a hundred feet beneath the surface of the water, there flourished in full
leaf a forest of tall and luxuriant trees.'"*

* In the year 1790, in the Caraccas during an earthquake a portion of the granite soil sank
and left a lake eight hundred yards in diameter, and from eighty to a hundred feet deep. It
was a part of the forest of Aripao which sank, and the trees remained green for several
months under the water. "-Murray, p. 221

"Hoo!" said the king.

"Some hundred miles farther on brought us to a climate where the atmosphere was so
dense as to sustain iron or steel, just as our own does feather.'"*

* The hardest steel ever manufactured may, under the action of a blowpipe, be reduced to
an impalpable powder, which will float readily in the atmospheric air.

"Fiddle de dee," said the king.

"Proceeding still in the same direction, we presently arrived at the most magnificent
region in the whole world. Through it there meandered a glorious river for several
thousands of miles. This river was of unspeakable depth, and of a transparency richer
than that of amber. It was from three to six miles in width; and its banks which arose on
either side to twelve hundred feet in perpendicular height, were crowned with ever-
blossoming trees and perpetual sweet-scented flowers, that made the whole territory one
gorgeous garden; but the name of this luxuriant land was the Kingdom of Horror, and to
enter it was inevitable death'"*

* The region of the Niger. See Simmona's "Colonial Magazine."
"Humph!" said the king.

'"We left this kingdom in great haste, and, after some days, came to another, where we
were astonished to perceive myriads of monstrous animals with horns resembling scythes
upon their heads. These hideous beasts dig for themselves vast caverns in the soil, of a
funnel shape, and line the sides of them with, rocks, so disposed one upon the other that
they fall instantly, when trodden upon by other animals, thus precipitating them into the
monster's dens, where their blood is immediately sucked, and their carcasses afterwards
hurled contemptuously out to an immense distance from "the caverns of death.'""*

* The Myrmeleon-lion-ant. The term "monster" is equally applicable to small abnormal
things and to great, while such epithets as "vast" are merely comparative. The cavern of
the myrmeleon is vast in comparison with the hole of the common red ant. A grain of
silexis also a "rock."

"Pooh!" said the king.

'"Continuing our progress, we perceived a district with vegetables that grew not upon any
soil but in the air.* There were others that sprang from the substance of other
vegetables;* (2) others that derived their substance from the bodies of living animals;*(3)
and then again, there were others that glowed all over with intense fire;*(4) others that
moved from place to place at pleasure,*(5) and what was still more wonderful, we
discovered flowers that lived and breathed and moved their limbs at will and had,
moreover, the detestable passion of mankind for enslaving other creatures, and confining
them in horrid and solitary prisons until the fulfillment of appointed tasks. "'*(6)

* The Epidendron, Flos Aeris, of the family of the Orchideae, grows with merely the
surface of its roots attached to a tree or other object, from which it derives no nutriment-
subsisting altogether upon air.

*(2) The Parasites, such as the wonderful Rafflesia Amaldii.

*(3) Schouw advocates a class of plants that grow upon living animals-the Plantae
Epizoae. Of this class are the Fuci and Algae.

Mr. J. B. WiUiams, of Salem, Mass., presented the "National Institute," with an insect
from New Zealand, with the following description:-"'The Hotte,' a decided caterpillar, or
worm, is found growing at the foot of the Rata tree, with a plant growing out of its head.
This most peculiar and most extraordinary insect travels up both the Rata and Perriri
trees, and entering into the top, eats its way, perforating the trunk of the tree until it
reaches the root, it then comes out of the root, and dies, or remains dormant, and the plant
propagates out of its head; the body remains perfect and entire, of a harder substance than
when alive. From this insect the natives making a coloring for tattooing."

*(4) In mines and natural caves we find a species of cryptogamous fungus that emits an
intense phosphorescence.

*(5) The orchis, scabius and valisneria.

*(6) The corolla of this flower (Aristolochia Clematitis), which is tubular, but terminating
upwards in a ligulate limb, is inflated into a globular figure at the base. The tubular part is
internally beset with stiff hairs, pointing downwards. The globular part contains the pistil,
which consists merely of a germen and stigma, together with the surrounding stamens.
But the stamens, being shorter than the germen, cannot discharge the pollen so as to
throw it upon the stigma, as the flower stands always upright till after impregnation. And
hence, without some additional and peculiar aid, the pollen must necessarily fan down to
the bottom of the flower. Now, the aid that nature has furnished in this case, is that of the
Tiputa Pennicornis, a small insect, which entering the tube of the corroUa in quest of
honey, descends to the bottom, and rummages about till it becomes quite covered with
pollen; but not being able to force its way out again, owing to the downward position of
the hairs, which converge to a point like the wires of a mouse-trap, and being somewhat
impatient of its confinement it brushes backwards and forwards, trying every corner, till,
after repeatedly traversing the stigma, it covers it with pollen sufficient for its
impregnation, in consequence of which the flower soon begins to droop, and the hairs to
shrink to the sides of the tube, effecting an easy passage for the escape of the insect."
Rev. P. Keith-System of Physiological Botany.

"Pshaw!" said the king.

"'Quitting this land, we soon arrived at another in which the bees and the birds are
mathematicians of such genius and erudition, that they give daily instructions in the
science of geometry to the wise men of the empire. The king of the place having offered a
reward for the solution of two very difficult problems, they were solved upon the spot-
the one by the bees, and the other by the birds; but the king keeping their solution a
secret, it was only after the most profound researches and labor, and the writing of an
infinity of big books, during a long series of years, that the men-mathematicians at length
arrived at the identical solutions which had been given upon the spot by the bees and by
the birds.'"*

* The bees-ever since bees were-have been constructing their cells with just such sides,
in just such number, and at just such inclinations, as it has been demonstrated (in a
problem involving the profoundest mathematical principles) are the very sides, in the
very number, and at the very angles, which will afford the creatures the most room that is
compatible with the greatest stability of structure.

During the latter part of the last century, the question arose among mathematicians-"to
determine the best form that can be given to the sails of a windmill, according to their
varying distances from the revolving vanes, and likewise from the centres of the
revolution." This is an excessively complex problem, for it is, in other words, to find the
best possible position at an infinity of varied distances, and at an infinity of points on the
arm. There were a thousand futile attempts to answer the query on the part of the most
illustrious mathematicians; and when, at length, an undeniable solution was discovered,
men found that the wing of a bird had given it with absolute precision ever since the first
bird had traversed the air.

"Oh my!" said the king.

"'We had scarcely lost sight of this empire when we found ourselves close upon another,
from whose shores there flew over our heads a flock of fowls a mile in breadth, and two
hundred and forty miles long; so that, although they flew a mile during every minute, it
required no less than four hours for the whole flock to pass over us-in which there were
several millions of millions of fowl.'"*

* He observed a flock of pigeons passing betwixt Frankfort and the Indian territory, one
mile at least in breadth; it took up four hours in passing, which, at the rate of one mile per
minute, gives a length of 240 miles; and, supposing three pigeons to each square yard,
gives 2,230,272,000 Pigeons.-"Travels in Canada and the United States," by Lieut. F.
Hall.

"Oh fy!" said the king.

"'No sooner had we got rid of these birds, which occasioned us great annoyance, than we
were terrified by the appearance of a fowl of another kind, and infinitely larger than even
the rocs which I met in my former voyages; for it was bigger than the biggest of the
domes on your seraglio, oh, most Munificent of Caliphs. This terrible fowl had no head
that we could perceive, but was fashioned entirely of belly, which was of a prodigious
fatness and roundness, of a soft-looking substance, smooth, shining and striped with
various colors. In its talons, the monster was bearing away to his eyrie in the heavens, a
house from which it had knocked off the roof, and in the interior of which we distinctly
saw human beings, who, beyond doubt, were in a state of frightful despair at the horrible
fate which awaited them. We shouted with all our might, in the hope of frightening the
bird into letting go of its prey, but it merely gave a snort or puff, as if of rage and then let
fall upon our heads a heavy sack which proved to be filled with sand!'"

"Stuff!" said the king.

"'It was just after this adventure that we encountered a continent of immense extent and
prodigious solidity, but which, nevertheless, was supported entirely upon the back of a
sky-blue cow that had no fewer than four hundred horns.'"*

* The earth is upheld by a cow of a blue color, having horns four hundred in number. "-
Sale's Koran.

"That, now, I believe," said the king, "because I have read something of the kind before,
in a book."

"'We passed immediately beneath this continent, (swimming in between the legs of the
cow, and, after some hours, found ourselves in a wonderful country indeed, which, I was
informed by the man-animal, was his own native land, inhabited by things of his own
species. This elevated the man-animal very much in my esteem, and in fact, I now began
to feel ashamed of the contemptuous familiarity with which I had treated him; for I found

that the man-animals in general were a nation of the most powerful magicians, who lived
with worms in their brain,* which, no doubt, served to stimulate them by their painful
writhings and wrigglings to the most miraculous efforts of imagination!'"

* "The Entozoa, or intestinal worms, have repeatedly been observed in the muscles, and
in the cerebral substance of men. "-See Wyatt's Physiology, p. 143.

"Nonsense!" said the king.

"'Among the magicians, were domesticated several animals of very singular kinds; for
example, there was a huge horse whose bones were iron and whose blood was boiling
water. In place of corn, he had black stones for his usual food; and yet, in spite of so hard
a diet, he was so strong and swift that he would drag a load more weighty than the
grandest temple in this city, at a rate surpassing that of the flight of most birds.'"*

* On the Great Western Railway, between London and Exeter, a speed of 71 miles per
hour has been attained. A train weighing 90 tons was whirled from Paddington to Didcot
(53 miles) in 51 minutes.

"Twattle!" said the king.

'"I saw, also, among these people a hen without feathers, but bigger than a camel; instead
of flesh and bone she had iron and brick; her blood, like that of the horse, (to whom, in
fact, she was nearly related,) was boiling water; and like him she ate nothing but wood or
black stones. This hen brought forth very frequently, a hundred chickens in the day; and,
after birth, they took up their residence for several weeks within the stomach of their
mother.'"*

* The Eccalobeion

"Fa! lal!" said the king.

'"One of this nation of mighty conjurors created a man out of brass and wood, and
leather, and endowed him with such ingenuity that he would have beaten at chess, all the
race of mankind with the exception of the great Caliph, Haroun Alraschid.* Another of
these magi constructed (of like material) a creature that put to shame even the genius of
him who made it; for so great were its reasoning powers that, in a second, it performed
calculations of so vast an extent that they would have required the united labor of fifty
thousand fleshy men for a year.*(2) But a still more wonderful conjuror fashioned for
himself a mighty thing that was neither man nor beast, but which had brains of lead,
intermixed with a black matter like pitch, and fingers that it employed with such
incredible speed and dexterity that it would have had no trouble in writing out twenty
thousand copies of the Koran in an hour, and this with so exquisite a precision, that in all
the copies there should not be found one to vary from another by the breadth of the finest
hair. This thing was of prodigious strength, so that it erected or overthrew the mightiest
empires at a breath; but its powers were exercised equally for evil and for good.'"

* Maelzel's Automaton Chess-player.

*(2) Babbage's Calculating Machine.

"Ridiculous!" said the king.

"'Among this nation of necromancers there was also one who had in his veins the blood
of the salamanders; for he made no scruple of sitting down to smoke his chibouc in a red-
hot oven until his dinner was thoroughly roasted upon its floor.* Another had the faculty
of converting the common metals into gold, without even looking at them during the
process. *(2) Another had such a delicacy of touch that he made a wire so fine as to be
invisible. *(3) Another had such quickness of perception that he counted all the separate
motions of an elastic body, while it was springing backward and forward at the rate of
nine hundred millions of times in a second. '"*(4)

* Chabert, and since him, a hundred others.

*(2) The Electrotype.

*(3) WoUaston made of platinum for the field of views in a telescope a wire one
eighteen-thousandth part of an inch in thickness. It could be seen only by means of the
microscope.

*(4) Newton demonstrated that the retina beneath the influence of the violet ray of the
spectrum, vibrated 900,000,000 of times in a second.

"Absurd!" said the king.

"'Another of these magicians, by means of a fluid that nobody ever yet saw, could make
the corpses of his friends brandish their arms, kick out their legs, fight, or even get up and
dance at his will.* Another had cultivated his voice to so great an extent that he could
have made himself heard from one end of the world to the other. *(2) Another had so long
an arm that he could sit down in Damascus and indite a letter at Bagdad-or indeed at any
distance whatsoever.*(3) Another commanded the lightning to come down to him out of
the heavens, and it came at his call; and served him for a plaything when it came.
Another took two loud sounds and out of them made a silence. Another constructed a
deep darkness out of two brilliant lights. *(4) Another made ice in a red-hot furnace. *(5)
Another directed the sun to paint his portrait, and the sun did.*(6) Another took this
luminary with the moon and the planets, and having first weighed them with scrupulous
accuracy, probed into their depths and found out the solidity of the substance of which
they were made. But the whole nation is, indeed, of so surprising a necromantic ability,
that not even their infants, nor their commonest cats and dogs have any difficulty in
seeing objects that do not exist at all, or that for twenty millions of years before the birth
of the nation itself had been blotted out from the face of creation. "'*(7)

* Voltaic pile.

*(2) The Electro Telegraph Printing Apparatus.

*(3) The Electro telegraph transmits intelligence instantaneously- at least at so far as
regards any distance upon the earth.

*(4) Common experiments in Natural Philosophy. If two red rays from two luminous
points be admitted into a dark chamber so as to fall on a white surface, and differ in their
length by 0.0000258 of an inch, their intensity is doubled. So also if the difference in
length be any whole-number multiple of that fraction. A multiple by 2 1/4, 3 1/4, &c.,
gives an intensity equal to one ray only; but a multiple by 2 1/2, 3 1/2, &c., gives the
result of total darkness. In violet rays similar effects arise when the difference in length is
0.000157 of an inch; and with all other rays the results are the same-the difference
varying with a uniform increase from the violet to the red.

Analogous experiments in respect to sound produce analogous results.

*(5) Place a platina crucible over a spirit lamp, and keep it a red heat; pour in some
sulphuric acid, which, though the most volatile of bodies at a common temperature, will
be found to become completely fixed in a hot crucible, and not a drop evaporates-being
surrounded by an atmosphere of its own, it does not, in fact, touch the sides. A few drops
of water are now introduced, when the acid, immediately coming in contact with the
heated sides of the crucible, flies off in sulphurous acid vapor, and so rapid is its
progress, that the caloric of the water passes off with it, which falls a lump of ice to the
bottom; by taking advantage of the moment before it is allowed to remelt, it may be
turned out a lump of ice from a red-hot vessel.

*(6) The Daguerreotype.

*(7) Although light travels 167,000 miles in a second, the distance of 61 Cygni (the only
star whose distance is ascertained) is so inconceivably great, that its rays would require
more than ten years to reach the earth. For stars beyond this, 20-or even 1000 years-
would be a moderate estimate. Thus, if they had been annihilated 20, or 1000 years ago,
we might still see them to-day by the light which started from their surfaces 20 or 1000
years in the past time. That many which we see daily are really extinct, is not impossible-
not even improbable.

"Preposterous!" said the king.

"'The wives and daughters of these incomparably great and wise magi,'" continued
Scheherazade, without being in any manner disturbed by these frequent and most
ungentlemanly interruptions on the part of her husband-"'the wives and daughters of
these eminent conjurers are every thing that is accomplished and refined; and would be
every thing that is interesting and beautiful, but for an unhappy fatality that besets them,
and from which not even the miraculous powers of their husbands and fathers has,
hitherto, been adequate to save. Some fatalities come in certain shapes, and some in
others-but this of which I speak has come in the shape of a crotchet.'"

"A what?" said the king.

'"A crotchet'" said Scheherazade. "'One of the evil genii, who are perpetually upon the
watch to inflict ill, has put it into the heads of these accomplished ladies that the thing
which we describe as personal beauty consists altogether in the protuberance of the
region which lies not very far below the small of the back. Perfection of loveliness, they
say, is in the direct ratio of the extent of this lump. Having been long possessed of this
idea, and bolsters being cheap in that country, the days have long gone by since it was
possible to distinguish a woman from a dromedary-'"

"Stop!" said the king-"I can't stand that, and I won't. You have already given me a
dreadful headache with your lies. The day, too, I perceive, is beginning to break. How
long have we been married?-my conscience is getting to be troublesome again. And then
that dromedary touch-do you take me for a fool? Upon the whole, you might as well get
up and be throttled."

These words, as I learn from the "Isitsoomot," both grieved and astonished Scheherazade;
but, as she knew the king to be a man of scrupulous integrity, and quite unlikely to forfeit
his word, she submitted to her fate with a good grace. She derived, however, great
consolation, (during the tightening of the bowstring,) from the reflection that much of the
history remained still untold, and that the petulance of her brute of a husband had reaped
for him a most righteous reward, in depriving him of many inconceivable adventures.

THE END

THE VALLEY OF UNREST

by Edgar Allan Poe

1831

Once it smiled a silent dell
Where the people did not dwell;
They had gone unto the wars,
Trusting to the mild-eyed stars,
Nightly, from their azure towers.
To keep watch above the flowers.
In the midst of which all day
The red sunlight lazily lay.
Now each visitor shall confess
The sad valley's restlessness.
Nothing there is motionless-
Nothing save the airs that brood
Over the magic solitude.
Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees
That palpitate like the chill seas
Around the misty Hebrides !
Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven
That rustle through the unquiet Heaven
Uneasily, from morn till even.
Over the violets there that lie
In myriad types of the human eye-
Over the lilies there that wave
And weep above a nameless grave!
They wave:-from out their fragrant tops
Eternal dews come down in drops.
They weep:-from off their delicate stems
Perennial tears descend in gems.

THE END

THOU ART THE MAN"

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

I WILL now play the Oedipus to the Rattleborough enigma. I will expound to you-as I
alone can-the secret of the enginery that effected the Rattleborough miracle-the one, the
true, the admitted, the undisputed, the indisputable miracle, which put a definite end to
infidelity among the Rattleburghers and converted to the orthodoxy of the grandames all
the carnal-minded who had ventured to be sceptical before.

This event-which I should be sorry to discuss in a tone of unsuitable levity-occurred in
the summer of 18-. Mr. Barnabas Shuttleworthy-one of the wealthiest and most
respectable citizens of the borough-had been missing for several days under
circumstances which gave rise to suspicion of foul play. Mr. Shuttleworthy had set out
from Rattleborough very early one Saturday morning, on horseback, with the avowed
intention of proceeding to the city of-, about fifteen miles distant, and of returning the
night of the same day. Two hours after his departure, however, his horse returned without
him, and without the saddle-bags which had been strapped on his back at starting. The
animal was wounded, too, and covered with mud. These circumstances naturally gave
rise to much alarm among the friends of the missing man; and when it was found, on
Sunday morning, that he had not yet made his appearance, the whole borough arose en
masse to go and look for his body.

The foremost and most energetic in instituting this search was the bosom friend of Mr.
Shuttleworthy-a Mr. Charles Goodfellow, or, as he was universally called, "Charley
Goodfellow," or "Old Charley Goodfellow." Now, whether it is a marvellous
coincidence, or whether it is that the name itself has an imperceptible effect upon the
character, I have never yet been able to ascertain; but the fact is unquestionable, that there
never yet was any person named Charles who was not an open, manly, honest, good-
natured, and frank-hearted fellow, with a rich, clear voice, that did you good to hear it,
and an eye that looked you always straight in the face, as much as to say: "I have a clear
conscience myself, am afraid of no man, and am altogether above doing a mean action."
And thus all the hearty, careless, "walking gentlemen" of the stage are very certain to be
called Charles.

Now, "Old Charley Goodfellow," although he had been in Rattleborough not longer than
six months or thereabouts, and although nobody knew any thing about him before he
came to settle in the neighborhood, had experienced no difficulty in the world in making
the acquaintance of all the respectable people in the borough. Not a man of them but
would have taken his bare word for a thousand at any moment; and as for the women,
there is no saying what they would not have done to oblige him. And all this came of his

having been christened Charles, and of his possessing, in consequence, that ingenuous
face which is proverbially the very "best letter of recommendation."

I have already said that Mr. Shuttleworthy was one of the most respectable and,
undoubtedly, he was the most wealthy man in Rattleborough, while "Old Charley
Goodfellow" was upon as intimate terms with him as if he had been his own brother. The
two old gentlemen were next-door neighbours, and, although Mr. Shuttleworthy seldom,
if ever, visited "Old Charley," and never was known to take a meal in his house, still this
did not prevent the two friends from being exceedingly intimate, as I have just observed;
for "Old Charley" never let a day pass without stepping in three or four times to see how
his neighbour came on, and very often he would stay to breakfast or tea, and almost
always to dinner, and then the amount of wine that was made way with by the two
cronies at a sitting, it would really be a difficult thing to ascertain. "Old Charleys"
favorite beverage was Chateau-Margaux, and it appeared to do Mr. Shuttleworthy' s heart
good to see the old fellow swallow it, as he did, quart after quart; so that, one day, when
the wine was in and the wit as a natural consequence, somewhat out, he said to his crony,
as he slapped him upon the back-"I tell you what it is, 'Old Charley,' you are, by all odds,
the heartiest old fellow I ever came across in all my born days; and, since you love to
guzzle the wine at that fashion, I'll be darned if I don't have to make thee a present of a
big box of the Chateau-Margaux. Od rot me, "-(Mr. Shuttleworthy had a sad habit of
swearing, although he seldom went beyond "Od rot me," or "By gosh," or "By the jolly
golly,")-"Od rot me," says he, "if I don't send an order to town this very afternoon for a
double box of the best that can be got, and I'll make ye a present of it, I will!- ye needn't
say a word now-I will, I tell ye, and there's an end of it; so look out for it-it will come to
hand some of these fine days, precisely when ye are looking for it the least!" I mention
this little bit of liberality on the part of Mr. Shuttleworthy, just by way of showing you
how very intimate an understanding existed between the two friends.

Well, on the Sunday morning in question, when it came to be fairly understood that Mr.
Shuttleworthy had met with foul play, I never saw any one so profoundly affected as
"Old Charley Goodfellow." When he first heard that the horse had come home without
his master, and without his master's saddle-bags, and all bloody from a pistol-shot, that
had gone clean through and through the poor animal's chest without quite killing him;
when he heard all this, he turned as pale as if the missing man had been his own dear
brother or father, and shivered and shook all over as if he had had a fit of the ague.

At first he was too much overpowered with grief to be able to do any thing at all, or to
concert upon any plan of action; so that for a long time he endeavoured to dissuade Mr.
Shuttleworthy' s other friends from making a stir about the matter, thinking it best to wait
awhile-say for a week or two, or a month, or two-to see if something wouldn't turn up, or
if Mr. Shuttleworthy wouldn't come in the natural way, and explain his reasons for
sending his horse on before. I dare say you have often observed this disposition to
temporize, or to procrastinate, in people who are labouring under any very poignant
sorrow. Their powers of mind seem to be rendered torpid, so that they have a horror of
any thing like action, and like nothing in the world so well as to lie quietly in bed and
"nurse their grief," as the old ladies express it-that is to say, ruminate over the trouble.

The people of Rattleborough had, indeed, so high an opinion of the wisdom and
discretion of "Old Charley," that the greater part of them felt disposed to agree with him,
and not make a stir in the business "until something should turn up," as the honest old
gentleman worded it; and I believe that, after all this would have been the general
determination, but for the very suspicious interference of Mr. Shuttleworthy's nephew, a
young man of very dissipated habits, and otherwise of rather bad character. This nephew,
whose name was Pennifeather, would listen to nothing like reason in the matter of "lying
quiet," but insisted upon making immediate search for the "corpse of the murdered man.-
This was the expression he employed; and Mr. Goodfellow acutely remarked at the time,
that it was "a singular expression, to say no more." This remark of 'Old Charley's,' too,
had great effect upon the crowd; and one of the party was heard to ask, very impressively,
"how it happened that young Mr. Pennifeather was so intimately cognizant of all the
circumstances connected with his wealthy uncle's disappearance, as to feel authorized to
assert, distinctly and unequivocally, that his uncle was 'a murdered man.'" Hereupon
some little squibbing and bickering occurred among various members of the crowd, and
especially between "Old Charley" and Mr. Pennifeather-although this latter occurrence
was, indeed, by no means a novelty, for no good will had subsisted between the parties
for the last three or four months; and matters had even gone so far that Mr. Pennifeather
had actually knocked down his uncles friend for some alleged excess of liberty that the
latter had taken in the uncle's house, of which the nephew was an inmate. Upon this
occasion "Old Charley" is said to have behaved with exemplary moderation and Christian
charity. He arose from the blow, adjusted his clothes, and made no attempt at retaliation
at ail-merely muttering a few words about "taking summary vengeance at the first
convenient opportunity,"- a natural and very justifiable ebullition of anger, which meant
nothing, however, and, beyond doubt, was no sooner given vent to than forgotten.

However these matters may be (which have no reference to the point now at issue), it is
quite certain that the people of Rattleborough, principally through the persuasion of Mr.
Pennifeather, came at length to the determination of dispersion over the adjacent country
in search of the missing Mr. Shuttleworthy. I say they came to this determination in the
first instance. After it had been fully resolved that a search should be made, it was
considered almost a matter of course that the seekers should disperse-that is to say,
distribute themselves in parties-for the more thorough examination of the region round
about. I forget, however, by what ingenious train of reasoning it was that "Old Charley"
finally convinced the assembly that this was the most injudicious plan that could be
pursued. Convince them, however, he did-all except Mr. Pennifeather, and, in the end, it
was arranged that a search should be instituted, carefully and very thoroughly, by the
burghers en masse, "Old Charley" himself leading the way.

As for the matter of that, there could have been no better pioneer than "Old Charley,"
whom everybody knew to have the eye of a lynx; but, although he led them into all
manner of out-of-the-way holes and corners, by routes that nobody had ever suspected of
existing in the neighbourhood, and although the search was incessantly kept up day and
night for nearly a week, still no trace of Mr. Shuttleworthy could be discovered. When I
say no trace, however, I must not be understood to speak literally, for trace, to some
extent, there certainly was. The poor gentleman had been tracked, by his horses shoes

(which were peculiar), to a spot about three miles to the east of the borough, on the main
road leading to the city. Here the track made off into a by-path through a piece of
woodland-the path coming out again into the main road, and cutting off about half a mile
of the regular distance. Following the shoe-marks down this lane, the party came at
length to a pool of stagnant water, half hidden by the brambles, to the right of the lane,
and opposite this pool all vestige of the track was lost sight of. It appeared, however, that
a struggle of some nature had here taken place, and it seemed as if some large and heavy
body, much larger and heavier than a man, had been drawn from the by-path to the pool.
This latter was carefully dragged twice, but nothing was found; and the party was upon
the point of going away, in despair of coming to any result, when Providence suggested
to Mr. Goodfellow the expediency of draining the water off altogether. This project was
received with cheers, and many high compliments to "Old Charley" upon his sagacity and
consideration. As many of the burghers had brought spades with them, supposing that
they might possibly be called upon to disinter a corpse, the drain was easily and speedily
effected; and no sooner was the bottom visible, than right in the middle of the mud that
remained was discovered a black silk velvet waistcoat, which nearly every one present
immediately recognized as the property of Mr. Pennifeather. This waistcoat was much
torn and stained with blood, and there were several persons among the party who had a
distinct remembrance of its having been worn by its owner on the very morning of Mr.
Shuttleworthy's departure for the city; while there were others, again, ready to testify
upon oath, if required, that Mr. P. did not wear the garment in question at any period
during the remainder of that memorable day, nor could any one be found to say that he
had seen it upon Mr. P.'s person at any period at all subsequent to Mr. Shuttleworthy's
disappearance.

Matters now wore a very serious aspect for Mr. Pennifeather, and it was observed, as an
indubitable confirmation of the suspicions which were excited against him, that he grew
exceedingly pale, and when asked what he had to say for himself, was utterly incapable
of saying a word. Hereupon, the few friends his riotous mode of living had left him,
deserted him at once to a man, and were even more clamorous than his ancient and
avowed enemies for his instantaneous arrest. But, on the other hand, the magnanimity of
Mr. Goodfellow shone forth with only the more brilliant lustre through contrast. He made
a warm and intensely eloquent defence of Mr. Pennifeather, in which he alluded more
than once to his own sincere forgiveness of that wild young gentleman-"the heir of the
worthy Mr. Shuttleworthy,"-for the insult which he (the young gentleman) had, no doubt
in the heat of passion, thought proper to put upon him (Mr. Goodfellow). "He forgave
him for it," he said, "from the very bottom of his heart; and for himself (Mr. Goodfellow),
so far from pushing the suspicious circumstances to extremity, which he was sorry to say,
really had arisen against Mr. Pennifeather, he (Mr. Goodfellow) would make every
exertion in his power, would employ all the little eloquence in his possession to-to-to-
soften down, as much as he could conscientiously do so, the worst features of this really
exceedingly perplexing piece of business."

Mr. Goodfellow went on for some half hour longer in this strain, very much to the credit
both of his head and of his heart; but your warm-hearted people are seldom apposite in
their observations-they run into all sorts of blunders, contre-temps and mal apropos-isms.

in the hot-headedness of their zeal to serve a friend-thus, often with the kindest intentions
in the world, doing infinitely more to prejudice his cause than to advance it.

So, in the present instance, it turned out with all the eloquence of "Old Charley"; for,
although he laboured earnestly in behalf of the suspected, yet it so happened, somehow or
other, that every syllable he uttered of which the direct but unwitting tendency was not to
exalt the speaker in the good opinion of his audience, had the effect to deepen the
suspicion already attached to the individual whose cause he pleaded, and to arouse
against him the fury of the mob.

One of the most unaccountable errors committed by the orator was his allusion to the
suspected as "the heir of the worthy old gentleman Mr. Shuttle worthy." The people had
really never thought of this before. They had only remembered certain threats of
disinheritance uttered a year or two previously by the uncle (who had no living relative
except the nephew), and they had, therefore, always looked upon this disinheritance as a
matter that was settled-so single-minded a race of beings were the Rattleburghers; but the
remark of "Old Charley" brought them at once to a consideration of this point, and thus
gave them to see the possibility of the threats having been nothing more than a threat.
And straightway hereupon, arose the natural question of cui bono?-a question that tended
even more than the waistcoat to fasten the terrible crime upon the young man. And here,
lest I may be misunderstood, permit me to digress for one moment merely to observe that
the exceedingly brief and simple Latin phrase which I have employed, is invariably
mistranslated and misconceived. "Cui bono?" in all the crack novels and elsewhere,-in
those of Mrs. Gore, for example, (the author of "Cecil,") a lady who quotes all tongues
from the Chaldaean to Chickasaw, and is helped to her learning, "as needed," upon a
systematic plan, by Mr. Beckford,-in all the crack novels, I say, from those of Bulwer
and Dickens to those of Bulwer and Dickens to those of Turnapenny and Ainsworth, the
two little Latin words cui bono are rendered "to what purpose?" or, (as if quo bono,) "to
what good." Their true meaning, nevertheless, is "for whose advantage." Cui, to whom;
bono, is it for a benefit. It is a purely legal phrase, and applicable precisely in cases such
as we have now under consideration, where the probability of the doer of a deed hinges
upon the probability of the benefit accruing to this individual or to that from the deed's
accomplishment. Now in the present instance, the question cui bono? very pointedly
implicated Mr. Pennifeather. His uncle had threatened him, after making a will in his
favour, with disinheritance. But the threat had not been actually kept; the original will, it
appeared, had not been altered. Had it been altered, the only supposable motive for
murder on the part of the suspected would have been the ordinary one of revenge; and
even this would have been counteracted by the hope of reinstation into the good graces of
the uncle. But the will being unaltered, while the threat to alter remained suspended over
the nephew's head, there appears at once the very strongest possible inducement for the
atrocity, and so concluded, very sagaciously, the worthy citizens of the borough of Rattle.

Mr. Pennifeather was, accordingly, arrested upon the spot, and the crowd, after some
further search, proceeded homeward, having him in custody. On the route, however,
another circumstance occurred tending to confirm the suspicion entertained. Mr.
Goodfellow, whose zeal led him to be always a little in advance of the party, was seen

suddenly to run forward a few paces, stoop, and then apparently to pick up some small
object from the grass. Having quickly examined it he was observed, too, to make a sort of
half attempt at concealing it in his coat pocket; but this action was noticed, as I say, and
consequently prevented, when the object picked up was found to be a Spanish knife
which a dozen persons at once recognized as belonging to Mr. Pennifeather. Moreover,
his initials were engraved upon the handle. The blade of this knife was open and bloody.

No doubt now remained of the guilt of the nephew, and immediately upon reaching
Rattleborough he was taken before a magistrate for examination.

Here matters again took a most unfavourable turn. The prisoner, being questioned as to
his whereabouts on the morning of Mr. Shuttleworthy's disappearance, had absolutely the
audacity to acknowledge that on that very morning he had been out with his rifle deer-
stalking, in the immediate neighbourhood of the pool where the blood-stained waistcoat
had been discovered through the sagacity of Mr. Goodfellow.

This latter now came forward, and, with tears in his eyes, asked permission to be
examined. He said that a stern sense of the duty he owed his Maker, not less than his
fellow-men, would permit him no longer to remain silent. Hitherto, the sincerest affection
for the young man (notwithstanding the latter's ill-treatment of himself, Mr. Goodfellow)
had induced him to make every hypothesis which imagination could suggest, by way of
endeavouring to account for what appeared suspicious in the circumstances that told so
seriously against Mr. Pennifeather, but these circumstances were now altogether too
convincing-too damning, he would hesitate no longer- he would tell all he knew,
although his heart (Mr. Goodfellow's) should absolutely burst asunder in the effort. He
then went on to state that, on the afternoon of the day previous to Mr. Shuttleworthy's
departure for the city, that worthy old gentleman had mentioned to his nephew, in his
hearing (Mr. Goodfellow's), that his object in going to town on the morrow was to make
a deposit of an unusually large sum of money in the "Farmers and Mechanics' Bank," and
that, then and there, the said Mr. Shuttleworthy had distinctly avowed to the said nephew
his irrevocable determination of rescinding the will originally made, and of cutting him
off with a shilling. He (the witness) now solemnly called upon the accused to state
whether what he (the witness) had just stated was or was not the truth in every substantial
particular. Much to the astonishment of every one present, Mr. Pennifeather frankly
admitted that it was.

The magistrate now considered it his duty to send a couple of constables to search the
chamber of the accused in the house of his uncle. From this search they almost
immediately returned with the well-known steel-bound, russet leather pocket-book which
the old gentleman had been in the habit of carrying for years. Its valuable contents,
however, had been abstracted, and the magistrate in vain endeavoured to extort from the
prisoner the use which had been made of them, or the place of their concealment. Indeed,
he obstinately denied all knowledge of the matter. The constables, also, discovered,
between the bed and sacking of the unhappy man, a shirt and neck-handkerchief both
marked with the initials of his name, and both hideously besmeared with the blood of the
victim.

At this juncture, it was announced that the horse of the murdered man had just expired in
the stable from the effects of the wound he had received, and it was proposed by Mr.
Goodfellow that a post mortem examination of the beast should be immediately made,
with the view, if possible, of discovering the ball. This was accordingly done; and, as if to
demonstrate beyond a question the guilt of the accused, Mr. Goodfellow, after
considerable searching in the cavity of the chest was enabled to detect and to pull forth a
bullet of very extraordinary size, which, upon trial, was found to be exactly adapted to the
bore of Mr. Pennifeather's rifle, while it was far too large for that of any other person in
the borough or its vicinity. To render the matter even surer yet, however, this bullet was
discovered to have a flaw or seam at right angles to the usual suture, and upon
examination, this seam corresponded precisely with an accidental ridge or elevation in a
pair of moulds acknowledged by the accused himself to be his own property. Upon
finding of this bullet, the examining magistrate refused to listen to any farther testimony,
and immediately committed the prisoner for trial-declining resolutely to take any bail in
the case, although against this severity Mr. Goodfellow very warmly remonstrated, and
offered to become surety in whatever amount might be required. This generosity on the
part of "Old Charley" was only in accordance with the whole tenour of his amiable and
chivalrous conduct during the entire period of his sojourn in the borough of Rattle. In the
present instance the worthy man was so entirely carried away by the excessive warmth of
his sympathy, that he seemed to have quite forgotten, when he offered to go bail for his
young friend, that he himself (Mr. Goodfellow) did not possess a single dollar's worth of
property upon the face of the earth.

The result of the committal may be readily foreseen. Mr. Pennifeather, amid the loud
execrations of all Rattleborough, was brought to trial at the next criminal sessions, when
the chain of circumstantial evidence (strengthened as it was by some additional damning
facts, which Mr. Goodfellow's sensitive conscientiousness forbade him to withhold from
the court) was considered so unbroken and so thoroughly conclusive, that the jury,
without leaving their seats, returned an immediate verdict of "Guilty of murder in the first
degree." Soon afterward the unhappy wretch received sentence of death, and was
remanded to the county jail to await the inexorable vengeance of the law.

In the meantime, the noble behaviour of "Old Charley Goodfellow, had doubly endeared
him to the honest citizens of the borough. He became ten times a greater favorite than
ever, and, as a natural result of the hospitality with which he was treated, he relaxed, as it
were, perforce, the extremely parsimonious habits which his poverty had hitherto
impelled him to observe, and very frequently had little reunions at his own house, when
wit and jollity reigned supreme-dampened a little, of course, by the occasional
remembrance of the untoward and melancholy fate which impended over the nephew of
the late lamented bosom friend of the generous host.

One fine day, this magnanimous old gentleman was agreeably surprised at the receipt of
the following letter: -

Chat. Mar. A-No. 1.-

6 doz. bottles (1/2 Gross)

From H.F.B. & Co.

Charles Goodfellow, Esq., Rattleborough

"Charles Goodfellow, Esquire.

"Dear Sir-In conformity with an order transmitted to our firm about two months since, by
our esteemed correspondent, Mr. Barnabus Shuttleworthy, we have the honour of
forwarding this morning, to your address, a double box of Chateau-Margaux of the
antelope brand, violet seal. Box numbered and marked as per margin.

"We remain, sir.

Your most ob'nt ser'ts,

HOGGS, FROGS, BOGS, & CO.

"City of-, June 21, 18-.

"P.S.-The box will reach you by wagon, on the day after your receipt of this letter. Our
respects to Mr. Shuttleworthy.

"H., F.,B., &C0."

The fact is, that Mr. Goodfellow had, since the death of Mr. Shuttleworthy, given over all
expectation of ever receiving the promised Chateau-Margaux; and he, therefore, looked
upon it now as a sort of especial dispensation of Providence in his behalf. He was highly
delighted, of course, and in the exuberance of his joy invited a large party of friends to a
petit souper on the morrow, for the purpose of broaching the good old Mr.
Shuttleworthy's present. Not that he said any thing about "the good old Mr.
Shuttleworthy" when he issued the invitations. The fact is, he thought much and
concluded to say nothing at all. He did not mention to any one-if I remember aright-that
he had received a present of Chateau-Margaux. He merely asked his friends to come and
help him drink some, of a remarkable fine quality and rich flavour, that he had ordered up
from the city a couple of months ago, and of which he would be in the receipt upon the
morrow. I have often puzzled myself to imagine why it was that "Old Charley" came to
the conclusion to say nothing about having received the wine from his old friend, but I
could never precisely understand his reason for the silence, although he had some
excellent and very magnanimous reason, no doubt.

The morrow at length arrived, and with it a very large and highly respectable company at
Mr. Goodfellow's house. Indeed, half the borough was there,-I myself among the
number,-but, much to the vexation of the host, the Chateau-Margaux did not arrive until
a late hour, and when the sumptuous supper supplied by "Old Charley" had been done

very ample justice by the guests. It came at length, however -a monstrously big box of it
there was, too-and as the whole party were in excessively good humor, it was decided,
nem. con., that it should be lifted upon the table and its contents disembowelled
forthwith.

No sooner said than done. I lent a helping hand; and, in a trice we had the box upon the
table, in the midst of all the bottles and glasses, not a few of which were demolished in
the scuffle. "Old Charley," who was pretty much intoxicated, and excessively red in the
face, now took a seat, with an air of mock dignity, at the head of the board, and thumped
furiously upon it with a decanter, calling upon the company to keep order "during the
ceremony of disinterring the treasure."

After some vociferation, quiet was at length fully restored, and, as very often happens in
similar cases, a profound and remarkable silence ensued. Being then requested to force
open the lid, I complied, of course, "with an infinite deal of pleasure." I inserted a chisel,
and giving it a few slight taps with a hammer, the top of the box flew suddenly off, and at
the same instant, there sprang up into a sitting position, directly facing the host, the
bruised, bloody, and nearly putrid corpse of the murdered Mr. Shuttleworthy himself. It
gazed for a few seconds, fixedly and sorrowfully, with its decaying and lack-lustre eyes,
full into the countenance of Mr. Goodfellow; uttered slowly, but clearly and
impressively, the words-"Thou art the man!" and then, falling over the side of the chest
as if thoroughly satisfied, stretched out its limbs quiveringly upon the table.

The scene that ensued is altogether beyond description. The rush for the doors and
windows was terrific, and many of the most robust men in the room fainted outright
through sheer horror. But after the first wild, shrieking burst of affright, all eyes were
directed to Mr. Goodfellow. If I live a thousand years, I can never forget the more than
mortal agony which was depicted in that ghastly face of his, so lately rubicund with
triumph and wine. For several minutes he sat rigidly as a statue of marble; his eyes
seeming, in the intense vacancy of their gaze, to be turned inward and absorbed in the
contemplation of his own miserable, murderous soul. At length their expression appeared
to flash suddenly out into the external world, when, with a quick leap, he sprang from his
chair, and falling heavily with his head and shoulders upon the table, and in contact with
the corpse, poured out rapidly and vehemently a detailed confession of the hideous crime
for which Mr. Pennifeather was then imprisoned and doomed to die.

What he recounted was in substance this:-He followed his victim to the vicinity of the
pool; there shot his horse with a pistol; despatched its rider with the butt end; possessed
himself of the pocket-book, and, supposing the horse dead, dragged it with great labour to
the brambles by the pond. Upon his own beast he slung the corpse of Mr. Shuttleworthy,
and thus bore it to a secure place of concealment a long distance off through the woods.

The waistcoat, the knife, the pocket-book, and bullet, had been placed by himself where
found, with the view of avenging himself upon Mr. Pennifeather. He had also contrived
the discovery of the stained handkerchief and shirt.

Towards the end of the blood-churning recital the words of the guilty wretch faltered and
grew hollow. When the record was finally exhausted, he arose, staggered backward from
the table, and fell-dead.

The means by which this happily-timed confession was extorted, although efficient, were
simple indeed. Mr. Goodfellow's excess of frankness had disgusted me, and excited my
suspicions from the first. I was present when Mr. Pennifeather had struck him, and the
fiendish expression which then arose upon his countenance, although momentary, assured
me that his threat of vengeance would, if possible, be rigidly fulfilled. I was thus prepared
to view the manoeuvering of "Old Charley" in a very different light from that in which it
was regarded by the good citizens of Rattleborough. I saw at once that all the criminating
discoveries arose, either directly or indirectly, from himself. But the fact which clearly
opened my eyes to the true state of the case, was the affair of the bullet, found by Mr. G.
in the carcass of the horse. I had not forgotten, although the Rattleburghers had, that there
was a hole where the ball had entered the horse, and another where it went out. If it were
found in the animal then, after having made its exit, I saw clearly that it must have been
deposited by the person who found it. The bloody shirt and handkerchief confirmed the
idea suggested by the bullet; for the blood on examination proved to be capital claret, and
no more. When I came to think of these things, and also of the late increase of liberality
and expenditure on the part of Mr. Goodfellow, I entertained a suspicion which was none
the less strong because I kept it altogether to myself.

In the meantime, I instituted a rigorous private search for the corpse of Mr.
Shuttleworthy, and, for good reasons, searched in quarters as divergent as possible from
those to which Mr. Goodfellow conducted his party. The result was that, after some days,
I came across an old dry well, the mouth of which was nearly hidden by brambles; and
here, at the bottom, I discovered what I sought.

Now it so happened that I had overheard the colloquy between the two cronies, when Mr.
Goodfellow had contrived to cajole his host into the promise of a box of Chateaux-
Margaux. Upon this hint I acted. I procured a stiff piece of whalebone, thrust it down the
throat of the corpse, and deposited the latter in an old wine box-taking care so to double
the body up as to double the whalebone with it. In this manner I had to press forcibly
upon the lid to keep it down while I secured it with nails; and I anticipated, of course, that
as soon as these latter were removed, the top would fly off and the body up.

Having thus arranged the box, I marked, numbered, and addressed it as already told; and
then writing a letter in the name of the wine merchants with whom Mr. Shuttleworthy
dealt, I gave instructions to my servant to wheel the box to Mr. Goodfellow's door, in a
barrow, at a given signal from myself. For the words which I intended the corpse to
speak, I confidently depended upon my ventriloquial abilities; for their effect, I counted
upon the conscience of the murderous wretch.

I believe there is nothing more to be explained. Mr. Pennifeather was released upon the
spot, inherited the fortune of his uncle, profited by the lessons of experience, turned over
a new leaf, and led happily ever afterward a new life.

THREE SUNDAYS IN A WEEK

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

YOU hard-headed, dunder-headed, obstinate, rusty, crusty, musty, fusty, old savage!"
said I, in fancy, one afternoon, to my grand uncle Rumgudgeon-shaking my fist at him in
imagination.

Only in imagination. The fact is, some trivial discrepancy did exist, just then, between
what I said and what I had not the courage to say-between what I did and what I had half
a mind to do.

The old porpoise, as I opened the drawing-room door, was sitting with his feet upon the
mantel-piece, and a bumper of port in his paw, making strenuous efforts to accomplish
the ditty.

Remplis ton verre vide!
Vide ton verre plein!

"My dear uncle," said I, closing the door gently, and approaching him with the blandest
of smiles, "you are always so very kind and considerate, and have evinced your
benevolence in so many-so very many ways-that-that I feel I have only to suggest this
little point to you once more to make sure of your full acquiescence."

"Hem!" said he, "good boy! go on!"

"I am sure, my dearest uncle [you confounded old rascal!], that you have no design
really, seriously, to oppose my union with Kate. This is merely a joke of yours, I know-
ha! ha! ha!-how very pleasant you are at times."

"Ha! ha! ha!" said he, "curse you! yes!"

"To be sure-of course ! I knew you were jesting. Now, uncle, all that Kate and myself
wish at present, is that you would oblige us with your advice as-as regards the time-you
know, uncle-in short, when will it be most convenient for yourself, that the wedding
shall-shall come off, you know?"

"Come off, you scoundrel! -what do you mean by that?-Better wait till it goes on."

"Ha! ha! ha!-he! he! he!-hi! hi! hi!-ho! ho! ho!-hu! hu! hu!- that's good!-oh that's
capital-such a wit! But all we want just now, you know, uncle, is that you would indicate
the time precisely."

"Ah!-precisely?"

"Yes, uncle-that is, if it would be quite agreeable to yourself."

"Wouldn't it answer, Bobby, if I were to leave it at random-some time within a year or
so, for example?-must I say precisely?"

"If you please, uncle-precisely."

"Well, then, Bobby, my boy-you're a fine fellow, aren't you?-since you will have the
exact time I'U-why I'll oblige you for once:"

"Dear uncle!"

"Hush, sir!" [drowning my voiceJ-I'll oblige you for once. You shall have my consent-
and the plum, we mus'n't forget the plum-let me see! when shall it be? To-day's Sunday-
isn't it? Well, then, you shall be married precisely-precisely, now mind!-when three
Sundays come together in a week! Do you hear me, sir! What are you gaping at? I say,
you shall have Kate and her plum when three Sundays come together in a week-but not
till then-you young scapegrace-not till then, if I die for it. You know me-I'm a man of
my word-now be off! " Here he swallowed his bumper of port, while I rushed from the
room in despair.

A very "fine old English gentleman," was my grand-uncle Rumgudgeon, but unlike him
of the song, he had his weak points. He was a little, pursy, pompous, passionate
semicircular somebody, with a red nose, a thick scull, [sic] a long purse, and a strong
sense of his own consequence. With the best heart in the world, he contrived, through a
predominant whim of contradiction, to earn for himself, among those who only knew him
superficially, the character of a curmudgeon. Like many excellent people, he seemed
possessed with a spirit of tantalization, which might easily, at a casual glance, have been
mistaken for malevolence. To every request, a positive "No!" was his immediate answer,
but in the end-in the long, long end-there were exceedingly few requests which he
refused. Against all attacks upon his purse he made the most sturdy defence; but the
amount extorted from him, at last, was generally in direct ratio with the length of the
siege and the stubbornness of the resistance. In charity no one gave more liberally or with
a worse grace.

For the fine arts, and especially for the belles-lettres, he entertained a profound contempt.
With this he had been inspired by Casimir Perier, whose pert little query "A quoi un
poete est il bon?" he was in the habit of quoting, with a very droll pronunciation, as the
ne plus ultra of logical wit. Thus my own inkling for the Muses had excited his entire
displeasure. He assured me one day, when I asked him for a new copy of Horace, that the
translation of "Poeta nascitur non fit" was "a nasty poet for nothing fit"-a remark which I
took in high dudgeon. His repugnance to "the humanities" had, also, much increased of
late, by an accidental bias in favor of what he supposed to be natural science. Somebody
had accosted him in the street, mistaking him for no less a personage than Doctor Dubble

L. Dee, the lecturer upon quack physics. This set him off at a tangent; and just at the
epoch of this story-for story it is getting to be after all-my grand-uncle Rumgudgeon was
accessible and pacific only upon points which happened to chime in with the caprioles of
the hobby he was riding. For the rest, he laughed with his arms and legs, and his politics
were stubborn and easily understood. He thought, with Horsley, that "the people have
nothing to do with the laws but to obey them."

I had lived with the old gentleman all my life. My parents, in dying, had bequeathed me
to him as a rich legacy. I believe the old villain loved me as his own child-nearly if not
quite as well as he loved Kate-but it was a dog's existence that he led me, after all. From
my first year until my fifth, he obliged me with very regular floggings. From five to
fifteen, he threatened me, hourly, with the House of Correction. From fifteen to twenty,
not a day passed in which he did not promise to cut me off with a shilling. I was a sad
dog, it is true-but then it was a part of my nature-a point of my faith. In Kate, however, I
had a firm friend, and I knew it. She was a good girl, and told me very sweetly that I
might have her (plum and all) whenever I could badger my grand-uncle Rumgudgeon,
into the necessary consent. Poor girl!-she was barely fifteen, and without this consent,
her little amount in the funds was not come-at-able until five immeasurable summers had
"dragged their slow length along." What, then, to do? At fifteen, or even at twenty-one
[for I had now passed my fifth olympiad] five years in prospect are very much the same
as five hundred. In vain we besieged the old gentleman with importunities. Here was a
piece de resistance (as Messieurs Ude and Careme would say) which suited his perverse
fancy to a T. It would have stiffed the indignation of Job himself, to see how much like
an old mouser he behaved to us two poor wretched little mice. In his heart he wished for
nothing more ardently than our union. He had made up his mind to this all along. In fact,
he would have given ten thousand pounds from his own pocket (Kate's plum was her
own) if he could have invented any thing like an excuse for complying with our very
natural wishes. But then we had been so imprudent as to broach the subject ourselves.
Not to oppose it under such circumstances, I sincerely believe, was not in his power.

I have said already that he had his weak points; but in speaking of these, I must not be
understood as referring to his obstinacy: which was one of his strong points-"assurement
ce n' etait pas sa foible." When I mention his weakness I have allusion to a bizarre old-
womanish superstition which beset him. He was great in dreams, portents, et id genus
omne of rigmarole. He was excessively punctilious, too, upon small points of honor, and,
after his own fashion, was a man of his word, beyond doubt. This was, in fact, one of his
hobbies. The spirit of his vows he made no scruple of setting at naught, but the letter was
a bond inviolable. Now it was this latter peculiarity in his disposition, of which Kates
ingenuity enabled us one fine day, not long after our interview in the dining-room, to take
a very unexpected advantage, and, having thus, in the fashion of all modern bards and
orators, exhausted in prolegomena, all the time at my command, and nearly all the room
at my disposal, I will sum up in a few words what constitutes the whole pith of the story.

It happened then-so the Fates ordered it-that among the naval acquaintances of my
betrothed, were two gentlemen who had just set foot upon the shores of England, after a
year's absence, each, in foreign travel. In company with these gentlemen, my cousin and

I, preconcertedly paid uncle Rumgudgeon a visit on the afternoon of Sunday, October the
tenth-just three weeks after the memorable decision which had so cruelly defeated our
hopes. For about half an hour the conversation ran upon ordinary topics, but at last, we
contrived, quite naturally, to give it the following turn:

CAPT. PRATT. "Well I have been absent just one year.-Just one year to-day, as I live-
let me see! yes!-this is October the tenth. You remember, Mr. Rumgudgeon, I called, this
day year to bid you good-bye. And by the way, it does seem something like a
coincidence, does it not-that our friend. Captain Smitherton, here, has been absent
exactly a year also-a year to-day!"

SMITHERTON. "Yes! just one year to a fraction. You will remember, Mr. Rumgudgeon,
that I called with Capt. Pratol on this very day, last year, to pay my parting respects."

UNCLE. "Yes, yes, yes-I remember it very well-very queer indeed! Both of you gone
just one year. A very strange coincidence, indeed! Just what Doctor Dubble L. Dee would
denominate an extraordinary concurrence of events. Doctor Dub-"

KATE. [Interrupting.] "To be sure, papa, it is something strange; but then Captain Pratt
and Captain Smitherton didn't go altogether the same route, and that makes a difference,
you know."

UNCLE. "I don't know any such thing, you huzzy! How should I? I think it only makes
the matter more remarkable. Doctor Dubble L. Dee-

KATE. Why, papa. Captain Pratt went round Cape Horn, and Captain Smitherton
doubled the Cape of Good Hope."

UNCLE. "Precisely !-the one went east and the other went west, you jade, and they both
have gone quite round the world. By the by. Doctor Dubble L. Dee-

MYSELF. [Hurriedly.] "Captain Pratt, you must come and spend the evening with us to-
morrow-you and Smitherton-you can tell us all about your voyage, and well have a game
of whist and-

PRATT. "Wist, my dear fellow-you forget. To-morrow will be Sunday. Some other
evening-

KATE. "Oh, no. fie!-Robert's not quite so bad as that. To-day's Sunday."

PRATT. "I beg both your pardons-but I can't be so much mistaken. I know to-morrow's
Sunday, because-"

SMITHERTON. [Much surprised.] "What are you all thinking about? Wasn't yesterday,
Sunday, I should like to know?"

ALL. "Yesterday indeed! you are out!"

UNCLE. "To-days Sunday, I say-don't I know?"

PRATT. "Oh no!-to-morrow's Sunday."

SMITHERTON. "You are all mad-every one of you. I am as positive that yesterday was
Sunday as I am that I sit upon this chair."

KATE, [jumping up eagerly.] "I see it-I see it all. Papa, this is a judgment upon you,
about-about you know what. Let me alone, and I'll explain it all in a minute. It's a very
simple thing, indeed. Captain Smitherton says that yesterday was Sunday: so it was; he is
right. Cousin Bobby, and uncle and I say that to-day is Sunday: so it is; we are right.
Captain Pratt maintains that to-morrow will be Sunday: so it will; he is right, too. The
fact is, we are all right, and thus three Sundays have come together in a week."

SMITHERTON. [After a pause.] "By the by, Pratt, Kate has us completely. What fools
we two are! Mr. Rumgudgeon, the matter stands thus: the earth, you know, is twenty-four
thousand miles in circumference. Now this globe of the earth turns upon its own axis-
revolves-spins round-these twenty-four thousand miles of extent, going from west to
east, in precisely twenty-four hours. Do you understand Mr. Rumgudgeon?-"

UNCLE. "To be sure-to be sure-Doctor Dub-"

SMITHERTON. [Drowning his voice.] "Well, sir; that is at the rate of one thousand
miles per hour. Now, suppose that I sail from this position a thousand miles east. Of
course I anticipate the rising of the sun here at London by just one hour. I see the sun rise
one hour before you do. Proceeding, in the same direction, yet another thousand miles, I
anticipate the rising by two hours-another thousand, and I anticipate it by three hours,
and so on, until I go entirely round the globe, and back to this spot, when, having gone
twenty-four thousand miles east, I anticipate the rising of the London sun by no less than
twenty-four hours; that is to say, I am a day in advance of your time. Understand, eh?"

UNCLE. "But Double L. Dee-"

SMITHERTON. [Speaking very loud.] "Captain Pratt, on the contrary, when he had
sailed a thousand miles west of this position, was an hour, and when he had sailed
twenty-four thousand miles west, was twenty-four hours, or one day, behind the time at
London. Thus, with me, yesterday was Sunday-thus, with you, to-day is Sunday-and
thus, with Pratt, to-morrow will be Sunday. And what is more, Mr. Rumgudgeon, it is
positively clear that we are all right; for there can be no philosophical reason assigned
why the idea of one of us should have preference over that of the other."

UNCLE. "My eyes!-well, Kate-well, Bobby !-this is a judgment upon me, as you say.
But I am a man of my word-mark that! you shall have her, boy, (plum and all), when you

please. Done up, by Jove! Three Sundays all in a row! I'll go, and take Bubble L. Dee's
opinion upon that."

THE END

TO"

by Edgar Allan Poe

1830

The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
The wantonest singing birds.
Are lips-and all thy melody
Of lip-begotten words-

Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined.

Then desolately fall,

O God! on my funereal mind

Like starlight on a pall-

Thy heart-thy heart!-! wake and sigh.
And sleep to dream till day
Of the truth that gold can never buy-
Of the baubles that it may.

THE END

by Edgar Allan Poe

1829

Not long ago, the writer of these lines,
In the mad pride of intellectuality.
Maintained "the power of words "-denied that ever
A thought arose within the human brain
Beyond the utterance of the human tongue:
And now, as if in mockery of that boast.
Two words-two foreign soft dissyllables-
Italian tones, made only to be murmured
By angels dreaming in the moonlit "dew
That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill,"
Have stirred from out the abysses of his heart,
Unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thought.
Richer, far wilder, far diviner visions
Than even seraph harper, Israfel,
(Who has "the sweetest voice of all God's creatures,")
Could hope to utter. And I! my spells are broken.
The pen falls powerless from my shivering hand.
With thy dear name as text, though bidden by thee,
I cannot write-I cannot speak or think-
Alas, I cannot feel; for 'tis not feeling.
This standing motionless upon the golden
Threshold of the wide-open gate of dreams.
Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista.
And thrilling as I see, upon the right.
Upon the left, and all the way along.
Amid empurpled vapors, far away
To where the prospect terminate s-thee only.

THE END

TOF"

by Edgar Allan Poe

1835

Beloved! amid the earnest woes

That crowd around my earthly path-

(Drear path, alas! where grows

Not even one lonely rose)-

My soul at least a solace hath

In dreams of thee, and therein knows

An Eden of bland repose.

And thus thy memory is to me
Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea-
Some ocean throbbing far and free
With storms-but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
Just o'er that one bright island smile.

THE END

TO F--S S. O-D

by Edgar Allan Poe

1835

Thou wouldst be loved?-then let thy heart
From its present pathway part not!
Being everything which now thou art,
Be nothing which thou art not.
So with the world thy gentle ways,
Thy grace, thy more than beauty.
Shall be an endless theme of praise.
And love-a simple duty.

THE END

TO HELEN

by Edgar Allan Poe

1831

Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea.
The weary, wayworn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam.
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face.
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece
And the grandeur that was Rome.

Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche
How statue-like I see thee stand.
The agate lamp within thy hand!
Ah, Psyche, from the regions which
Are Holy Land!

THE END

TO HELEN

by Edgar Allan Poe

1848

I saw thee once-once only-years ago:
I must not say how many-but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring.
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven.
There fell a silvery- silken veil of light.
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber.
Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden.
Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe-
Fell on the uptum'd faces of these roses
That gave out, in return for the love-light.
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death-
Fell on the uptum'd faces of these roses
That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted
By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence.

Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
Fell on the uptum'd faces of the roses.
And on thine own, upturn'd-alas, in sorrow!

Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight-
Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,)
That bade me pause before that garden-gate.
To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?
No footstep stirred: the hated world an slept.
Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven !-oh, God!
How my heart beats in coupling those two words!)
Save only thee and me. I paused-I looked-
And in an instant all things disappeared.
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!)

The pearly lustre of the moon went out:
The mossy banks and the meandering paths.
The happy flowers and the repining trees.
Were seen no more: the very roses' odors
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.

All-all expired save thee-save less than thou:
Save only the divine light in thine eyes-
Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
I saw but them-they were the world to me!
I saw but them-saw only them for hours,
Saw only them until the moon went down.
What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope!
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How daring an ambition; yet how deep-
How fathomless a capacity for love!

But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight.
Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained;
They would not go-they never yet have gone;
Lighting my lonely pathway home that night.
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since;
They follow me-they lead me through the years.
They are my ministers-yet I their slave.
Their office is to illumine and enkindle-
My duty, to be saved by their bright light.
And purified in their electric fire.
And sanctified in their elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
And are far up in Heaven-the stars I kneel to
In the sad, silent watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still-two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!

THE END

TOM"

by Edgar Allan Poe

1830

O! I care not that my earthly lot
Hath little of Earth in it,
That years of love have been forgot
In the fever of a minute:

I heed not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you meddle with my fate
Who am a passer by.

It is not that my founts of bliss
Are gushing-strange! with tears-
Or that the thrill of a single kiss
Hath palsied many years-

'Tis not that the flowers of twenty springs
Which have wither'd as they rose
Lie dead on my heart-strings
With the weight of an age of snows.

Not that the grass-0! may it thrive!
On my grave is growing or grown-
But that, while I am dead yet alive
I cannot be, lady, alone.

THE END

TO M.L.S.

by Edgar Allan Poe

1847

Of all who hail thy presence as the moming-

Of all to whom thine absence is the night-

The blotting utterly from out high heaven

The sacred sun-of all who, weeping, bless thee

Hourly for hope-for life-ah! above all.

For the resurrection of deep-buried faith

In Truth-in Virtue-in Humanity-

Of all who, on Despair's unhallowed bed

Lying down to die, have suddenly arisen

At thy soft-murmured words, "Let there be light!"

At the soft-murmured words that were fulfilled

In the seraphic glancing of thine eyes-

Of all who owe thee most- whose gratitude

Nearest resembles worship-oh, remember

The truest-the most fervently devoted.

And think that these weak lines are written by him-

By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think

His spirit is communing with an angel's.

THE END

TO MY MOTHER

by Edgar Allan Poe

1849

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,

The angels, whispering to one another.

Can find, among their burning terms of love.

None so devotional as that of "Mother,"

Therefore by that dear name I long have called you-

You who are more than mother unto me.

And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you

In setting my Virginia's spirit free.

My mother-my own mother, who died early.

Was but the mother of myself; but you

Are mother to the one I loved so dearly.

And thus are dearer than the mother I knew

By that infinity with which my wife

Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

THE END

TO ONE IN PARADISE

by Edgar Allan Poe

1834

Thou wast all that to me, love,

For which my soul did pine-

A green isle in the sea, love,

A fountain and a shrine.

All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers.

And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, dream too bright to last!

Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise

But to be overcast!

A voice from out the Future cries,

"On! on! "-but o'er the Past

(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies

Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! me

The light of Life is o'er!

"No more-no more-no more-"

(Such language holds the solemn sea

To the sands upon the shore)

Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree

Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances.
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy grey eye glances.
And where thy footstep gleams-
In what ethereal dances.
By what eternal streams.

THE END

TO THE RIVER

by Edgar Allan Poe

1829

Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow
Of crystal, wandering water.
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty-the unhidden heart-
The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto's daughter;

But when within thy wave she looks-
Which glistens then, and trembles-
Why, then, the prettiest of brooks
Her worshipper resembles;
For in his heart, as in thy stream,
Her image deeply lies-
His heart which trembles at the beam
Of her soul-searching eyes.

THE END

ULALAME

by Edgar Allan Poe

1847

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere-
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year;
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir-
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul-
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
There were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriae rivers that roll-
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
In the ultimate climes of the pole-
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober.
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere-
Our memories were treacherous and sere-
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year-
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)
We noted not the dim lake of Auber-
(Though once we had journeyed down here).
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent,
And star-dials pointed to morn-
As the star-dials hinted of morn-
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born.
Out of which a miraculous crescent

Arose with a duplicate hom-
Astarte's bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said-"She is warmer than Dian:
She rolls through an ether of sighs-
She revels in a region of sighs:
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion,
To point us the path to the skies-
To the Lethean peace of the skies-
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes-
Come up through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger.
Said-" Sadly this star I mistrust-
Her pallor I strangely mistrust: -
Oh, hasten !-oh, let us not linger!
Oh, fly!-let us fly!-for we must."
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
Wings until they trailed in the dust-
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust-
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied-"This is nothing but dreaming:

Let us on by this tremulous light!

Let us bathe in this crystalline light!

Its Sybilic splendor is beaming

With Hope and in Beauty to-night: -

See!-it flickers up the sky through the night!

Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming.

And be sure it will lead us aright-

We safely may trust to a gleaming

That cannot but guide us aright.

Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her.
And tempted her out of her gloom-
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista.
But were stopped by the door of a tomb-
By the door of a legended tomb;

And I said-"What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied-"Ulalume-Ulalume-
'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere-
As the leaves that were withering and sere-
And I cried-"It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I joumeyed-I journeyed down here-
That I brought a dread burden down here-
on this night of all nights in the year.
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber-
This misty mid region of Weir-
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

THE END

VON KEMPELEN AND HIS DISCOVERY

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

AFTER THE very minute and elaborate paper by Arago, to say nothing of the summary
in 'Silliman's Journal,' with the detailed statement just published by Lieutenant Maury, it
will not be supposed, of course, that in offering a few hurried remarks in reference to Von
Kempelen's discovery, I have any design to look at the subject in a scientific point of
view. My object is simply, in the first place, to say a few words of Von Kempelen
himself (with whom, some years ago, I had the honor of a slight personal acquaintance),
since every thing which concerns him must necessarily, at this moment, be of interest;
and, in the second place, to look in a general way, and speculatively, at the results of the
discovery.

It may be as well, however, to premise the cursory observations which I have to offer, by
denying, very decidedly, what seems to be a general impression (gleaned, as usual in a
case of this kind, from the newspapers), viz.: that this discovery, astounding as it
unquestionably is, is unanticipated.

By reference to the 'Diary of Sir Humphrey Davy' (Cottle and Munroe, London, pp. 150),
it will be seen at pp. 53 and 82, that this illustrious chemist had not only conceived the
idea now in question, but had actually made no inconsiderable progress, experimentally,
in the very identical analysis now so triumphantly brought to an issue by Von Kempelen,
who although he makes not the slightest allusion to it, is, without doubt (I say it
unhesitatingly, and can prove it, if required), indebted to the 'Diary' for at least the first
hint of his own undertaking.

The paragraph from the 'Courier and Enquirer,' which is now going the rounds of the
press, and which purports to claim the invention for a Mr. Kissam, of Brunswick, Maine,
appears to me, I confess, a little apocryphal, for several reasons; although there is nothing
either impossible or very improbable in the statement made. I need not go into details.
My opinion of the paragraph is founded principally upon its manner. It does not look
true. Persons who are narrating facts, are seldom so particular as Mr. Kissam seems to be,
about day and date and precise location. Besides, if Mr. Kissam actually did come upon
the discovery he says he did, at the period designated- nearly eight years ago-how
happens it that he took no steps, on the instant, to reap the immense benefits which the
merest bumpkin must have known would have resulted to him individually, if not to the
world at large, from the discovery? It seems to me quite incredible that any man of
common understanding could have discovered what Mr. Kissam says he did, and yet
have subsequently acted so like a baby-so hke an owl-as Mr. Kissam admits that he did.
By-the-way, who is Mr. Kissam? and is not the whole paragraph in the 'Courier and
Enquirer' a fabrication got up to 'make a talk'? It must be confessed that it has an

amazingly moon-hoaxy-air. Very little dependence is to be placed upon it, in my humble
opinion; and if I were not well aware, from experience, how very easily men of science
are mystified, on points out of their usual range of inquiry, I should be profoundly
astonished at finding so eminent a chemist as Professor Draper, discussing Mr. Kissam's
(or is it Mr. Quizzem's?) pretensions to the discovery, in so serious a tone.

But to return to the 'Diary' of Sir Humphrey Davy. This pamphlet was not designed for
the public eye, even upon the decease of the writer, as any person at all conversant with
authorship may satisfy himself at once by the slightest inspection of the style. At page 13,
for example, near the middle, we read, in reference to his researches about the protoxide
of azote: 'In less than half a minute the respiration being continued, diminished gradually
and were succeeded by analogous to gentle pressure on all the muscles.' That the
respiration was not 'diminished,' is not only clear by the subsequent context, but by the
use of the plural, 'were.' The sentence, no doubt, was thus intended: 'In less than half a
minute, the respiration [being continued, these feelings] diminished gradually, and were
succeeded by [a sensation] analogous to gentle pressure on all the muscles.' A hundred
similar instances go to show that the MS. so inconsiderately published, was merely a
rough note-book, meant only for the writer's own eye, but an inspection of the pamphlet
will convince almost any thinking person of the truth of my suggestion. The fact is. Sir
Humphrey Davy was about the last man in the world to commit himself on scientific
topics. Not only had he a more than ordinary dislike to quackery, but he was morbidly
afraid of appearing empirical; so that, however fully he might have been convinced that
he was on the right track in the matter now in question, he would never have spoken out,
until he had every thing ready for the most practical demonstration. I verily believe that
his last moments would have been rendered wretched, could he have suspected that his
wishes in regard to burning this 'Diary' (full of crude speculations) would have been
unattended to; as, it seems, they were. I say 'his wishes,' for that he meant to include this
note -book among the miscellaneous papers directed 'to be burnt,' I think there can be no
manner of doubt. Whether it escaped the flames by good fortune or by bad, yet remains to
be seen. That the passages quoted above, with the other similar ones referred to, gave
Von Kempelen the hint, I do not in the slightest degree question; but I repeat, it yet
remains to be seen whether this momentous discovery itself (momentous under any
circumstances) will be of service or disservice to mankind at large. That Von Kempelen
and his immediate friends will reap a rich harvest, it would be folly to doubt for a
moment. They will scarcely be so weak as not to 'realize,' in time, by large purchases of
houses and land, with other property of intrinsic value.

In the brief account of Von Kempelen which appeared in the 'Home Journal,' and has
since been extensively copied, several misapprehensions of the German original seem to
have been made by the translator, who professes to have taken the passage from a late
number of the Presburg 'Schnellpost.' 'Viele' has evidently been misconceived (as it often
is), and what the translator renders by 'sorrows,' is probably 'lieden,' which, in its true
version, 'sufferings,' would give a totally different complexion to the whole account; but,
of course, much of this is merely guess, on my part.

Von Kempelen, however, is by no means 'a misanthrope,' in appearance, at least,
whatever he may be in fact. My acquaintance with him was casual altogether; and I am
scarcely warranted in saying that I know him at all; but to have seen and conversed with a
man of so prodigious a notoriety as he has attained, or will attain in a few days, is not a
small matter, as times go.

'The Literary World' speaks of him, confidently, as a native of Presburg (misled, perhaps,
by the account in 'The Home Journal') but I am pleased in being able to state positively,
since I have it from his own lips, that he was bom in Utica, in the State of New York,
although both his parents, I believe, are of Presburg descent. The family is connected, in
some way, with Maelzel, of Automaton-chess-player memory. In person, he is short and
stout, with large, fat, blue eyes, sandy hair and whiskers, a wide but pleasing mouth, fine
teeth, and I think a Roman nose. There is some defect in one of his feet. His address is
frank, and his whole manner noticeable for bonhomie. Altogether, he looks, speaks, and
acts as little like 'a misanthrope' as any man I ever saw. We were fellow- sojouners for a
week about six years ago, at Earl's Hotel, in Providence, Rhode Island; and I presume
that I conversed with him, at various times, for some three or four hours altogether. His
principal topics were those of the day, and nothing that fell from him led me to suspect
his scientific attainments. He left the hotel before me, intending to go to New York, and
thence to Bremen; it was in the latter city that his great discovery was first made public;
or, rather, it was there that he was first suspected of having made it. This is about all that
I personally know of the now immortal Von Kempelen; but I have thought that even
these few details would have interest for the public.

There can be little question that most of the marvellous rumors afloat about this affair are
pure inventions, entitled to about as much credit as the story of Aladdin's lamp; and yet,
in a case of this kind, as in the case of the discoveries in California, it is clear that the
truth may be stranger than fiction. The following anecdote, at least, is so well
authenticated, that we may receive it implicitly.

Von Kempelen had never been even tolerably well off during his residence at Bremen;
and often, it was well known, he had been put to extreme shifts in order to raise trifling
sums. When the great excitement occurred about the forgery on the house of Gutsmuth &
Co., suspicion was directed toward Von Kempelen, on account of his having purchased a
considerable property in Gasperitch Lane, and his refusing, when questioned, to explain
how he became possessed of the purchase money. He was at length arrested, but nothing
decisive appearing against him, was in the end set at liberty. The police, however, kept a
strict watch upon his movements, and thus discovered that he left home frequently, taking
always the same road, and invariably giving his watchers the slip in the neighborhood of
that labyrinth of narrow and crooked passages known by the flash name of the
'Dondergat.' Finally, by dint of great perseverance, they traced him to a garret in an old
house of seven stories, in an alley called Flatzplatz,-and, coming upon him suddenly,
found him, as they imagined, in the midst of his counterfeiting operations. His agitation is
represented as so excessive that the officers had not the slightest doubt of his guilt. After
hand-cuffing him, they searched his room, or rather rooms, for it appears he occupied all
the mansarde.

Opening into the garret where they caught him, was a closet, ten feet by eight, fitted up
with some chemical apparatus, of which the object has not yet been ascertained. In one
comer of the closet was a very small furnace, with a glowing fire in it, and on the fire a
kind of duplicate crucible-two crucibles connected by a tube. One of these crucibles was
nearly full of lead in a state of fusion, but not reaching up to the aperture of the tube,
which was close to the brim. The other crucible had some liquid in it, which, as the
officers entered, seemed to be furiously dissipating in vapor. They relate that, on finding
himself taken, Kempelen seized the crucibles with both hands (which were encased in
gloves that afterwards turned out to be asbestic), and threw the contents on the tiled floor.
It was now that they hand-cuffed him; and before proceeding to ransack the premises
they searched his person, but nothing unusual was found about him, excepting a paper
parcel, in his coat-pocket, containing what was afterward ascertained to be a mixture of
antimony and some unknown substance, in nearly, but not quite, equal proportions. All
attempts at analyzing the unknown substance have, so far, failed, but that it will
ultimately be analyzed, is not to be doubted.

Passing out of the closet with their prisoner, the officers went through a sort of ante-
chamber, in which nothing material was found, to the chemist's sleeping -room. They here
rummaged some drawers and boxes, but discovered only a few papers, of no importance,
and some good coin, silver and gold. At length, looking under the bed, they saw a large,
common hair trunk, without hinges, hasp, or lock, and with the top lying carelessly across
the bottom portion. Upon attempting to draw this trunk out from under the bed, they
found that, with their united strength (there were three of them, all powerful men), they
'could not stir it one inch.' Much astonished at this, one of them crawled under the bed,
and looking into the trunk, said:

'No wonder we couldn't move it-why it's full to the brim of old bits of brass!'

Putting his feet, now, against the wall so as to get a good purchase, and pushing with all
his force, while his companions pulled with an theirs, the trunk, with much difficulty, was
slid out from under the bed, and its contents examined. The supposed brass with which it
was filled was all in small, smooth pieces, varying from the size of a pea to that of a
dollar; but the pieces were irregular in shape, although more or less flat-looking, upon the
whole, 'very much as lead looks when thrown upon the ground in a molten state, and
there suffered to grow cool.' Now, not one of these officers for a moment suspected this
metal to be any thing but brass. The idea of its being gold never entered their brains, of
course; how could such a wild fancy have entered it? And their astonishment may be well
conceived, when the next day it became known, all over Bremen, that the 'lot of brass'
which they had carted so contemptuously to the police office, without putting themselves
to the trouble of pocketing the smallest scrap, was not only gold-real gold-but gold far
finer than any employed in coinage-gold, in fact, absolutely pure, virgin, without the
slightest appreciable alloy.

I need not go over the details of Von Kempelen's confession (as far as it went) and
release, for these are familiar to the public. That he has actually realized, in spirit and in
effect, if not to the letter, the old chimaera of the philosopher's stone, no sane person is at

liberty to doubt. The opinions of Arago are, of course, entitled to the greatest
consideration; but he is by no means infallible; and what he says of bismuth, in his report
to the Academy, must be taken cum grano sails. The simple truth is, that up to this period
all analysis has failed; and until Von Kempelen chooses to let us have the key to his own
published enigma, it is more than probable that the matter will remain, for years, in statu
quo. All that as yet can fairly be said to be known is, that 'Pure gold can be made at will,
and very readily from lead in connection with certain other substances, in kind and in
proportions, unknown.'

Speculation, of course, is busy as to the immediate and ultimate results of this discovery-
a discovery which few thinking persons will hesitate in referring to an increased interest
in the matter of gold generally, by the late developments in California; and this reflection
brings us inevitably to another-the exceeding inopportuneness of Von Kempelen's
analysis. If many were prevented from adventuring to California, by the mere
apprehension that gold would so materially diminish in value, on account of its
plentifulness in the mines there, as to render the speculation of going so far in search of it
a doubtful one-what impression will be wrought now, upon the minds of those about to
emigrate, and especially upon the minds of those actually in the mineral region, by the
announcement of this astounding discovery of Von Kempelen? a discovery which
declares, in so many words, that beyond its intrinsic worth for manufacturing purposes
(whatever that worth may be), gold now is, or at least soon will be (for it cannot be
supposed that Von Kempelen can long retain his secret), of no greater value than lead,
and of far inferior value to silver. It is, indeed, exceedingly difficult to speculate
prospectively upon the consequences of the discovery, but one thing may be positively
maintained-that the announcement of the discovery six months ago would have had
material influence in regard to the settlement of California.

In Europe, as yet, the most noticeable results have been a rise of two hundred per cent, in
the price of lead, and nearly twenty-five per cent, that of silver.

THE END

WHY THE LITTLE FRENCHMAN WEARS HIS

HAND IN A SLING

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

IT'S on my visiting cards sure enough (and it's them that's all o' pink satin paper) that
inny gintleman that plases may behould the intheristhin words, "Sir Pathrick
O'Grandison, Barronitt, 39 Southampton Row, Russell Square, Parrish o' Bloomsbury."
And shud ye be wantin' to diskiver who is the pink of purliteness quite, and the laider of
the hot tun in the houl city o' Lonon-why it's jist mesilf. And fait that same is no wonder
at all at all (so be plased to stop curUn your nose), for every inch o' the six wakes that I've
been a gintleman, and left aff wid the bogthrothing to take up wid the Barronissy, it's
Pathrick that's been living like a houly imperor, and gitting the iddication and the graces.
Och! and wouldn't it be a blessed thing for your spirrits if ye cud lay your two peepers
jist, upon Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, Barronitt, when he is all riddy drissed for the
hopperer, or stipping into the Brisky for the drive into the Hyde Park. But it's the illigant
big figgur that I ave, for the rason o' which all the ladies fall in love wid me. Isn't it my
own swate silf now that'll missure the six fut, and the three inches more nor that, in me
stockins, and that am excadingly will proportioned all over to match? And it is ralelly
more than three fut and a bit that there is, inny how, of the little ould furrener Frinchman
that lives jist over the way, and that's a oggling and a goggling the houl day, (and bad
luck to him,) at the purty widdy Misthress Trade that's my own nixt-door neighbor, (God
bhss her!) and a most particuUer frind and acquaintance? You percave the little spalpeen
is summat down in the mouth, and wears his lift hand in a sling, and it's for that same
thing, by yur lave, that I'm going to give you the good rason.

The truth of the houl matter is jist simple enough; for the very first day that I com'd from
Connaught, and showd my swate little silf in the strait to the widdy, who was looking
through the windy, it was a gone case althegither with the heart o' the purty Misthress
Trade. I percaved it, ye see, all at once, and no mistake, and that's God's truth. First of all
it was up wid the windy in a jiffy, and thin she threw open her two peepers to the itmost,
and thin it was a little gould spy-glass that she clapped tight to one o' them and divil may
bum me if it didn't spake to me as plain as a peeper cud spake, and says it, through the
spy-glass: "Och! the tip o' the mornin' to ye. Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, Barronitt,
mavourneen; and it's a nate gintleman that ye are, sure enough, and it's mesilf and me
forten jist that'll be at yur sarvice, dear, inny time o' day at all at all for the asking." And
it's not mesilf ye wud have to be bate in the purliteness; so I made her a bow that wud ha'
broken yur heart altegither to behould, and thin I pulled aff me hat with a flourish, and
thin I winked at her hard wid both eyes, as much as to say, "True for you, yer a swate
little crature, Mrs. Trade, me darlint, and I wish I may be drownthed dead in a bog, if it's

not mesilf, Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, Barronitt, that'll make a houl bushel o' love to yur
leddyship, in the twinkling o' the eye of a Londonderry purraty."

And it was the nixt mornin', sure, jist as I was making up me mind whither it wouldn't be
the purlite thing to sind a bit o' writin' to the widdy by way of a love-litter, when up
com'd the delivery servant wid an illigant card, and he tould me that the name on it (for I
niver could rade the copperplate printin on account of being lift handed) was all about
Mounseer, the Count, A Goose, Look-aisy, Maiter-di-dauns, and that the houl of the
divilish lingo was the spalpeeny long name of the little ould furrener Frinchman as lived
over the way.

And jist wid that in cum'd the little willian himself, and then he made me a broth of a
bow, and thin he said he had ounly taken the liberty of doing me the honor of the giving
me a call, and thin he went on to palaver at a great rate, and divil the bit did I comprehind
what he wud be afther the tilling me at all at all, excipting and saving that he said "puUy
wou, woolly wou," and tould me, among a bushel o' lies, bad luck to him, that he was
mad for the love o' my widdy Misthress Trade, and that my widdy Mrs. Trade had a
puncheon for him.

At the hearin' of this, ye may swear, though, I was as mad as a grasshopper, but I
remimbered that I was Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, Barronitt, and that it wasn't althegither
gentaal to lit the anger git the upper hand o' the purliteness, so I made light o' the matter
and kipt dark, and got quite sociable wid the little chap, and afther a while what did he do
but ask me to go wid him to the widdy's, saying he wud give me the feshionable
inthroduction to her leddyship.

"Is it there ye are?" said I thin to mesilf, "and it's thrue for you, Pathrick, that ye're the
fortunittest mortal in life. We'll soon see now whither it's your swate silf, or whither it's
little Mounseer Maiter-di-dauns, that Misthress Trade is head and ears in the love wid."

Wid that we wint aff to the widdy's, next door, and ye may well say it was an illigant
place; so it was. There was a carpet all over the floor, and in one corner there was a forty-
pinny and a Jew's harp and the divil knows what ilse, and in another comer was a sofy,
the beautifuUest thing in all natur, and sitting on the sofy, sure enough, there was the
swate little angel, Misthress Trade.

"The tip o' the mornin' to ye," says I, "Mrs. Trade," and thin I made sich an illigant
obaysance that it wud ha quite althegither bewildered the brain o' ye.

"WuUy woo, puUy woo, plump in the mud," says the little furrenner Frinchman, "and sure
Mrs. Trade," says he, that he did, "isn't this gintleman here jist his reverence Sir Pathrick
O'Grandison, Barronitt, and isn't he althegither and entirely the most particular frind and
acquaintance that I have in the houl world?"

And wid that the widdy, she gits up from the sofy, and makes the swatest curthchy nor
iver was seen; and thin down she sits like an angel; and thin, by the powers, it was that

little spalpeen Mounseer Maiter-di-dauns that plumped his silf right down by the right
side of her. Och hon! I ixpicted the two eyes o' me wud ha cum'd out of my head on the
spot, I was so dispirate mad! Howiver, "Bait who!" says I, after awhile. "Is it there ye are,
Mounseer Maiter-di-dauns?" and so down I plumped on the lift side of her leddyship, to
be aven with the willain. Botheration! it wud ha done your heart good to percave the
illigant double wink that I gived her jist thin right in the face with both eyes.

But the little ould Frinchman he niver beginned to suspict me at all at all, and disperate
hard it was he made the love to her leddyship. "WouUy wou," says he, PuUy wou," says
he, "Plump in the mud," says he.

"That's all to no use, Mounseer Frog, mavourneen," thinks I; and I talked as hard and as
fast as I could all the while, and throth it was mesilf jist that divarted her leddyship
complately and intirely, by rason of the illigant conversation that I kipt up wid her all
about the dear bogs of Connaught. And by and by she gived me such a swate smile, from
one ind of her mouth to the ither, that it made me as bould as a pig, and I jist took hould
of the ind of her little finger in the most dillikitest manner in natur, looking at her all the
while out o' the whites of my eyes.

And then ounly percave the cuteness of the swate angel, for no sooner did she obsarve
that I was afther the squazing of her flipper, than she up wid it in a jiffy, and put it away
behind her back, jist as much as to say, "Now thin. Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, there's a
bitther chance for ye, mavourneen, for it's not altogether the gentaal thing to be afther the
squazing of my flipper right full in the sight of that little furrenner Frinchman, Mounseer
Maiter-di-dauns."

Wid that I giv'd her a big wink jist to say, "lit Sir Pathrick alone for the likes o' them
thricks," and thin I wint aisy to work, and you'd have died wid the divarsion to behould
how cliverly I slipped my right arm betwane the back o' the sofy, and the back of her
leddyship, and there, sure enough, I found a swate little flipper all a waiting to say, "the
tip o' the mornin' to ye. Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, Barronitt." And wasn't it mesilf, sure,
that jist giv'd it the laste little bit of a squaze in the world, all in the way of a
commincement, and not to be too rough wid her leddyship? and och, botheration, wasn't
it the gentaalest and dilikittest of all the little squazes that I got in return? "Blood and
thunder. Sir Pathrick, mavourneen," thinks I to mesilf, "fait it's jist the mother's son of
you, and nobody else at all at all, that's the handsomest and the fortunittest young bog-
thro tter that ever cum'd out of Connaught!" And with that I givd the flipper a big squaze,
and a big squaze it was, by the powers, that her leddyship giv'd to me back. But it would
ha split the seven sides of you wid the laffin' to behould, jist then all at once, the consated
behavior of Mounseer Maiter-di-dauns. The likes o' sich a jabbering, and a smirking, and
a parley- wouing as he begin'd wid her leddyship, niver was known before upon arth; and
divil may burn me if it wasn't me own very two peepers that cotch'd him tipping her the
wink out of one eye. Och, hon! if it wasn't mesilf thin that was mad as a Kilkenny cat I
shud like to be tould who it was!

"Let me infarm you, Mounseer Maiter-di-dauns," said I, as purlite as iver ye seed, "that
it's not the gintaal thing at all at all, and not for the likes o' you inny how, to be afther the
oggling and a goggling at her leddyship in that fashion," and jist wid that such another
squaze as it was I giv'd her flipper, all as much as to say, "isn't it Sir Pathrick now, my
jewel, that'll be able to the proticting o' you, my darlint?" and then there cum'd another
squaze back, all by way of the answer. "Thrue for you. Sir Pathrick," it said as plain as
iver a squaze said in the world, "Thrue for you. Sir Pathrick, mavourneen, and it's a
proper nate gintleman ye are- that's God's truth," and with that she opened her two
beautiful peepers till I belaved they wud ha' cum'd out of her hid althegither and intirely,
and she looked first as mad as a cat at Mounseer Frog, and thin as smiling as all out o'
doors at mesilf.

"Thin," says he, the willian, "Och hon! and a woUy-wou, puUy-wou," and then wid that
he shoved up his two shoulders till the divil the bit of his hid was to be diskivered, and
then he let down the two corners of his purraty-trap, and thin not a haporth more of the
satisfaction could I git out o' the spalpeen.

Belave me, my jewel, it was Sir Pathrick that was unreasonable mad thin, and the more
by token that the Frinchman kipt an wid his winking at the widdy; and the widdy she kept
an wid the squazing of my flipper, as much as to say, "At him again. Sir Pathrick
O'Grandison, mavourneen:" so I just ripped out wid a big oath, and says I;

"Ye little spalpeeny frog of a bog-throtting son of a bloody noun!"- and jist thin what d'ye
think it was that her leddyship did? Troth she jumped up from the sofy as if she was bit,
and made off through the door, while I turned my head round afther her, in a complate
bewilderment and botheration, and followed her wid me two peepers. You percave I had
a reason of my own for knowing that she couldn't git down the stares althegither and
intirely; for I knew very well that I had hould of her hand, for the divil the bit had I iver
lit it go. And says I; "Isn't it the laste little bit of a mistake in the world that ye've been
afther the making, yer leddyship? Come back now, that's a darlint, and I'll give ye yur
flipper." But aff she wint down the stairs like a shot, and thin I turned round to the little
Frinch furrenner. Och hon! if it wasn't his spalpeeny little paw that I had hould of in my
own-why thin-thin it wasn't-that's all.

And maybe it wasn't mesilf that jist died then outright wid the laffin', to behold the little
chap when he found out that it wasn't the widdy at all at all that he had had hould of all
the time, but only Sir Pathrick O'Grandison. The ould divil himself niver behild sich a
long face as he pet an! As for Sir Pathrick O'Grandison, Barronitt, it wasn't for the likes
of his riverence to be afther the minding of a thrifle of a mistake. Ye may jist say, though
(for it's God's thruth), that afore I left hould of the flipper of the spalpeen (which was not
till afther her leddyship's futman had kicked us both down the stairs, I giv'd it such a nate
little broth of a squaze as made it all up into raspberry jam.

"WouUy wou," says he, "puUy wou," says he-"Cot tam!"

And that's jist the thruth of the rason why he wears his lift hand in a sling.

LITTLETON BARRY.
THE END

WILLIAM WILSON

by Edgar Allan Poe

1839

What say of it? what say (of) CONSCIENCE grim,
That spectre in my path?
Chamberlayne's Pharronida.

LET me call myself, for the present, William Wilson. The fair page now lying before me
need not be sullied with my real appellation. This has been already too much an object
for the scorn —for the horror —for the detestation of my race. To the uttermost regions of
the globe have not the indignant winds bruited its unparalleled infamy? Oh, outcast of all
outcasts most abandoned! -to the earth art thou not forever dead? to its honors, to its
flowers, to its golden aspirations? —and a cloud, dense, dismal, and limitless, does it not
hang eternally between thy hopes and heaven?

I would not, if I could, here or to-day, embody a record of my later years of unspeakable
misery, and unpardonable crime. This epoch —these later years —took unto themselves a
sudden elevation in turpitude, whose origin alone it is my present purpose to assign. Men
usually grow base by degrees. From me, in an instant, all virtue dropped bodily as a
mantle. From comparatively trivial wickedness I passed, with the stride of a giant, into
more than the enormities of an Elah-Gabalus. What chance —what one event brought this
evil thing to pass, bear with me while I relate. Death approaches; and the shadow which
foreruns him has thrown a softening influence over my spirit. I long, in passing through
the dim valley, for the sympathy —I had nearly said for the pity —of my fellow men. I
would fain have them believe that I have been, in some measure, the slave of
circumstances beyond human control. I would wish them to seek out for me, in the details
I am about to give, some little oasis of fatality amid a wilderness of error. I would have
them allow —what they cannot refrain from allowing —that, although temptation may
have erewhile existed as great, man was never thus, at least, tempted before -certainly,
never thus fell. And is it therefore that he has never thus suffered? Have I not indeed been
living in a dream? And am I not now dying a victim to the horror and the mystery of the
wildest of all sublunary visions?

I am the descendant of a race whose imaginative and easily excitable temperament has at
all times rendered them remarkable; and, in my earliest infancy, I gave evidence of
having fully inherited the family character. As I advanced in years it was more strongly
developed; becoming, for many reasons, a cause of serious disquietude to my friends, and
of positive injury to myself. I grew self-willed, addicted to the wildest caprices, and a
prey to the most ungovernable passions. Weak-minded, and beset with constitutional
infirmities akin to my own, my parents could do but little to check the evil propensities
which distinguished me. Some feeble and ill-directed efforts resulted in complete failure
on their part, and, of course, in total triumph on mine. Thenceforward my voice was a
household law; and at an age when few children have abandoned their leading-strings, I

was left to the guidance of my own will, and became, in all but name, the master of my
own actions.

My earliest recollections of a school-life, are connected with a large, rambling,
Elizabethan house, in a misty-looking village of England, where were a vast number of
gigantic and gnarled trees, and where all the houses were excessively ancient. In truth, it
was a dream-like and spirit- soothing place, that venerable old town. At this moment, in
fancy, I feel the refreshing chilliness of its deeply- shadowed avenues, inhale the
fragrance of its thousand shrubberies, and thrill anew with undefinable delight, at the
deep hollow note of the church-bell, breaking, each hour, with sullen and sudden roar,
upon the stillness of the dusky atmosphere in which the fretted Gothic steeple lay
imbedded and asleep.

It gives me, perhaps, as much of pleasure as I can now in any manner experience, to
dwell upon minute recollections of the school and its concerns. Steeped in misery as I am
—misery, alas! only too real —I shall be pardoned for seeking relief, however slight and
temporary, in the weakness of a few rambling details. These, moreover, utterly trivial,
and even ridiculous in themselves, assume, to my fancy, adventitious importance, as
connected with a period and a locality when and where I recognise the first ambiguous
monitions of the destiny which afterwards so fully overshadowed me. Let me then
remember.

The house, I have said, was old and irregular. The grounds were extensive, and a high
and solid brick wall, topped with a bed of mortar and broken glass, encompassed the
whole. This prison-like rampart formed the limit of our domain; beyond it we saw but
thrice a week —once every Saturday afternoon, when, attended by two ushers, we were
permitted to take brief walks in a body through some of the neighbouring fields -and
twice during Sunday, when we were paraded in the same formal manner to the morning
and evening service in the one church of the village. Of this church the principal of our
school was pastor. With how deep a spirit of wonder and perplexity was I wont to regard
him from our remote pew in the gallery, as, with step solemn and slow, he ascended the
pulpit! This reverend man, with countenance so demurely benign, with robes so glossy
and so clerically flowing, with wig so minutely powdered, so rigid and so vast, —could
this be he who, of late, with sour visage, and in snuffy habiliments, administered, ferule
in hand, the Draconian laws of the academy? Oh, gigantic paradox, too utterly monstrous
for solution!

At an angle of the ponderous wall frowned a more ponderous gate. It was riveted and
studded with iron bolts, and surmounted with jagged iron spikes. What impressions of
deep awe did it inspire! It was never opened save for the three periodical egressions and
ingressions already mentioned; then, in every creak of its mighty hinges, we found a
plenitude of mystery —a world of matter for solemn remark, or for more solemn
meditation.

The extensive enclosure was irregular in form, having many capacious recesses. Of these,
three or four of the largest constituted the play-ground. It was level, and covered with
fine hard gravel. I well remember it had no trees, nor benches, nor anything similar
within it. Of course it was in the rear of the house. In front lay a small parterre, planted
with box and other shrubs; but through this sacred division we passed only upon rare
occasions indeed —such as a first advent to school or final departure thence, or perhaps,
when a parent or friend having called for us, we joyfully took our way home for the

Christmas or Midsummer holy-days.

But the house! -how quaint an old building was this! —to me how veritably a palace of
enchantment! There was really no end to its windings —to its incomprehensible
subdivisions. It was difficult, at any given time, to say with certainty upon which of its
two stories one happened to be. From each room to every other there were sure to be
found three or four steps either in ascent or descent. Then the lateral branches were
innumerable —inconceivable —and so returning in upon themselves, that our most exact
ideas in regard to the whole mansion were not very far different from those with which
we pondered upon infinity. During the five years of my residence here, I was never able
to ascertain with precision, in what remote locality lay the little sleeping apartment
assigned to myself and some eighteen or twenty other scholars.

The school-room was the largest in the house —I could not help thinking, in the world. It
was very long, narrow, and dismally low, with pointed Gothic windows and a celling of
oak. In a remote and terror-inspiring angle was a square enclosure of eight or ten feet,
comprising the sanctum, "during hours," of our principal, the Reverend Dr. Bransby. It
was a solid structure, with massy door, sooner than open which in the absence of the
"Dominic," we would all have willingly perished by the peine forte et dure. In other
angles were two other similar boxes, far less reverenced, indeed, but still greatly matters
of awe. One of these was the pulpit of the "classical" usher, one of the "English and
mathematical." Interspersed about the room, crossing and recrossing in endless
irregularity, were innumerable benches and desks, black, ancient, and time-worn, piled
desperately with much-bethumbed books, and so beseamed with initial letters, names at
full length, grotesque figures, and other multiplied efforts of the knife, as to have entirely
lost what little of original form might have been their portion in days long departed. A
huge bucket with water stood at one extremity of the room, and a clock of stupendous
dimensions at the other.

Encompassed by the massy walls of this venerable academy, I passed, yet not in tedium
or disgust, the years of the third lustrum of my life. The teeming brain of childhood
requires no external world of incident to occupy or amuse it; and the apparently dismal
monotony of a school was replete with more intense excitement than my riper youth has
derived from luxury, or my full manhood from crime. Yet I must believe that my first
mental development had in it much of the uncommon —even much of the outre. Upon
mankind at large the events of very early existence rarely leave in mature age any definite
impression. All is gray shadow -a weak and irregular remembrance -an indistinct
regathering of feeble pleasures and phantasmagoric pains. With me this is not so. In
childhood I must have felt with the energy of a man what I now find stamped upon
memory in lines as vivid, as deep, and as durable as the exergues of the Carthaginian
medals.

Yet in fact —in the fact of the world's view —how little was there to remember! The
morning's awakening, the nightly summons to bed; the connings, the recitations; the
periodical half-holidays, and perambulations; the play-ground, with its broils, its
pastimes, its intrigues; -these, by a mental sorcery long forgotten, were made to involve
a wilderness of sensation, a world of rich incident, an universe of varied emotion, of
excitement the most passionate and spirit-stirring. "Oh, le bon temps, que ce siecle de
fer!"
In truth, the ardor, the enthusiasm, and the imperiousness of my disposition, soon

rendered me a marked character among my schoolmates, and by slow, but natural
gradations, gave me an ascendancy over all not greatly older than myself; —over all with
a single exception. This exception was found in the person of a scholar, who, although no
relation, bore the same Christian and surname as myself; —a circumstance, in fact, little
remarkable; for, notwithstanding a noble descent, mine was one of those everyday
appellations which seem, by prescriptive right, to have been, time out of mind, the
common property of the mob. In this narrative I have therefore designated myself as
William Wilson, —a fictitious title not very dissimilar to the real. My namesake alone, of
those who in school phraseology constituted "our set," presumed to compete with me in
the studies of the class —in the sports and broils of the play-ground —to refuse implicit
belief in my assertions, and submission to my will —indeed, to interfere with my arbitrary
dictation in any respect whatsoever. If there is on earth a supreme and unqualified
despotism, it is the despotism of a master mind in boyhood over the less energetic spirits
of its companions.

Wilson's rebellion was to me a source of the greatest embarrassment; -the more so as, in
spite of the bravado with which in public I made a point of treating him and his
pretensions, I secretly felt that I feared him, and could not help thinking the equality
which he maintained so easily with myself, a proof of his true superiority; since not to be
overcome cost me a perpetual struggle. Yet this superiority —even this equality —was in
truth acknowledged by no one but myself; our associates, by some unaccountable
blindness, seemed not even to suspect it. Indeed, his competition, his resistance, and
especially his impertinent and dogged interference with my purposes, were not more
pointed than private. He appeared to be destitute alike of the ambition which urged, and
of the passionate energy of mind which enabled me to excel. In his rivalry he might have
been supposed actuated solely by a whimsical desire to thwart, astonish, or mortify
myself; although there were times when I could not help observing, with a feeling made
up of wonder, abasement, and pique, that he mingled with his injuries, his insults, or his
contradictions, a certain most inappropriate, and assuredly most unwelcome
affectionateness of manner. I could only conceive this singular behavior to arise from a
consummate self-conceit assuming the vulgar airs of patronage and protection.
Perhaps it was this latter trait in Wilson's conduct, conjoined with our identity of name,
and the mere accident of our having entered the school upon the same day, which set
afloat the notion that we were brothers, among the senior classes in the academy. These
do not usually inquire with much strictness into the affairs of their juniors. I have before
said, or should have said, that Wilson was not, in the most remote degree, connected with
my family. But assuredly if we had been brothers we must have been twins; for, after
leaving Dr. Bransby's, I casually learned that my namesake was bom on the nineteenth of
January, 1813 -and this is a somewhat remarkable coincidence; for the day is precisely
that of my own nativity.

It may seem strange that in spite of the continual anxiety occasioned me by the rivalry of
Wilson, and his intolerable spirit of contradiction, I could not bring myself to hate him
altogether. We had, to be sure, nearly every day a quarrel in which, yielding me publicly
the palm of victory, he, in some manner, contrived to make me feel that it was he who
had deserved it; yet a sense of pride on my part, and a veritable dignity on his own, kept
us always upon what are called "speaking terms," while there were many points of strong
congeniality in our tempers, operating to awake me in a sentiment which our position

alone, perhaps, prevented from ripening into friendship. It is difficult, indeed, to define,or
even to describe, my real feelings towards him. They formed a motley and heterogeneous
admixture; -some petulant animosity, which was not yet hatred, some esteem, more
respect, much fear, with a world of uneasy curiosity. To the moralist it will be
unnecessary to say, in addition, that Wilson and myself were the most inseparable of
companions.

It was no doubt the anomalous state of affairs existing between us, which turned all my
attacks upon him, (and they were many, either open or covert) into the channel of banter
or practical joke (giving pain while assuming the aspect of mere fun) rather than into a
more serious and determined hostility. But my endeavours on this head were by no means
uniformly successful, even when my plans were the most wittily concocted; for my
namesake had much about him, in character, of that unassuming and quiet austerity
which, while enjoying the poignancy of its own jokes, has no heel of Achilles in itself,
and absolutely refuses to be laughed at. I could find, indeed, but one vulnerable point,
and that, lying in a personal peculiarity, arising, perhaps, from constitutional disease,
would have been spared by any antagonist less at his wit's end than myself; —my rival
had a weakness in the faucal or guttural organs, which precluded him from raising his
voice at any time above a very low whisper. Of this defect I did not fall to take what poor
advantage lay in my power.

Wilson's retaliations in kind were many; and there was one form of his practical wit that
disturbed me beyond measure. How his sagacity first discovered at all that so petty a
thing would vex me, is a question I never could solve; but, having discovered, he
habitually practised the annoyance. I had always felt aversion to my uncourtly
patronymic, and its very common, if not plebeian praenomen. The words were venom in
my ears; and when, upon the day of my arrival, a second William Wilson came also to
the academy, I felt angry with him for bearing the name, and doubly disgusted with the
name because a stranger bore it, who would be the cause of its twofold repetition, who
would be constantly in my presence, and whose concerns, in the ordinary routine of the
school business, must inevitably, on account of the detestable coincidence, be often
confounded with my own.

The feeling of vexation thus engendered grew stronger with every circumstance tending
to show resemblance, moral or physical, between my rival and myself. I had not then
discovered the remarkable fact that we were of the same age; but I saw that we were of
the same height, and I perceived that we were even singularly alike in general contour of
person and outline of feature. I was galled, too, by the rumor touching a relationship,
which had grown current in the upper forms. In a word, nothing could more seriously
disturb me, although I scrupulously concealed such disturbance,) than any allusion to a
similarity of mind, person, or condition existing between us. But, in truth, I had no reason
to believe that (with the exception of the matter of relationship, and in the case of Wilson
himself,) this similarity had ever been made a subject of comment, or even observed at all
by our schoolfellows. That he observed it in all its bearings, and as fixedly as I, was
apparent; but that he could discover in such circumstances so fruitful a field of
annoyance, can only be attributed, as I said before, to his more than ordinary penetration.
His cue, which was to perfect an imitation of myself, lay both in words and in actions;
and most admirably did he play his part. My dress it was an easy matter to copy; my gait
and general manner were, without difficulty, appropriated; in spite of his constitutional

defect, even my voice did not escape him. My louder tones were, of course, unattempted,
but then the key, it was identical; and his singular whisper, it grew the very echo of my
own.

How greatly this most exquisite portraiture harassed me, (for it could not justly be termed
a caricature,) I will not now venture to describe. I had but one consolation —in the fact
that the imitation, apparently, was noticed by myself alone, and that I had to endure only
the knowing and strangely sarcastic smiles of my namesake himself. Satisfied with
having produced in my bosom the intended effect, he seemed to chuckle in secret over
the sting he had inflicted, and was characteristically disregardful of the public applause
which the success of his witty endeavours might have so easily elicited. That the school,
indeed, did not feel his design, perceive its accomplishment, and participate in his sneer,
was, for many anxious months, a riddle I could not resolve. Perhaps the gradation of his
copy rendered it not so readily perceptible; or, more possibly, I owed my security to the
master air of the copyist, who, disdaining the letter, (which in a painting is all the obtuse
can see,) gave but the full spirit of his original for my individual contemplation and
chagrin.

I have already more than once spoken of the disgusting air of patronage which he
assumed toward me, and of his frequent officious interference withy my will. This
interference often took the ungracious character of advice; advice not openly given, but
hinted or insinuated. I received it with a repugnance which gained strength as I grew in
years. Yet, at this distant day, let me do him the simple justice to acknowledge that I can
recall no occasion when the suggestions of my rival were on the side of those errors or
follies so usual to his immature age and seeming inexperience; that his moral sense, at
least, if not his general talents and worldly wisdom, was far keener than my own; and that
I might, to-day, have been a better, and thus a happier man, had I less frequently rejected
the counsels embodied in those meaning whispers which I then but too cordially hated
and too bitterly despised.

As it was, I at length grew restive in the extreme under his distasteful supervision, and
daily resented more and more openly what I considered his intolerable arrogance. I have
said that, in the first years of our connexion as schoolmates, my feelings in regard to him
might have been easily ripened into friendship: but, in the latter months of my residence
at the academy, although the intrusion of his ordinary manner had, beyond doubt, in some
measure, abated, my sentiments, in nearly similar proportion, partook very much of
positive hatred. Upon one occasion he saw this, I think, and afterwards avoided, or made
a show of avoiding me.

It was about the same period, if I remember aright, that, in an altercation of violence with
him, in which he was more than usually thrown off his guard, and spoke and acted with
an openness of demeanor rather foreign to his nature, I discovered, or fancied I
discovered, in his accent, his air, and general appearance, a something which first
startled, and then deeply interested me, by bringing to mind dim visions of my earliest
infancy —wild, confused and thronging memories of a time when memory herself was yet
unborn. I cannot better describe the sensation which oppressed me than by saying that I
could with difficulty shake off the belief of my having been acquainted with the being
who stood before me, at some epoch very long ago —some point of the past even
infinitely remote. The delusion, however, faded rapidly as it came; and I mention it at all
but to define the day of the last conversation I there held with my singular namesake.

The huge old house, with its countless subdivisions, had several large chambers
communicating with each other, where slept the greater number of the students. There
were, however, (as must necessarily happen in a building so awkwardly planned,) many
little nooks or recesses, the odds and ends of the structure; and these the economic
ingenuity of Dr. Bransby had also fitted up as dormitories; although, being the merest
closets, they were capable of accommodating but a single individual. One of these small
apartments was occupied by Wilson.

One night, about the close of my fifth year at the school, and immediately after the
altercation just mentioned, finding every one wrapped in sleep, I arose from bed, and,
lamp in hand, stole through a wilderness of narrow passages from my own bedroom to
that of my rival. I had long been plotting one of those ill-natured pieces of practical wit at
his expense in which I had hitherto been so uniformly unsuccessful. It was my intention,
now, to put my scheme in operation, and I resolved to make him feel the whole extent of
the malice with which I was imbued. Having reached his closet, I noiselessly entered,
leaving the lamp, with a shade over it, on the outside. I advanced a step, and listened to
the sound of his tranquil breathing. Assured of his being asleep, I returned, took the light,
and with it again approached the bed. Close curtains were around it, which, in the
prosecution of my plan, I slowly and quietly withdrew, when the bright rays fell vividly
upon the sleeper, and my eyes, at the same moment, upon his countenance. I looked; —
and a numbness, an iciness of feeling instantly pervaded my frame. My breast heaved,
my knees tottered, my whole spirit became possessed with an objectless yet intolerable
horror. Gasping for breath, I lowered the lamp in still nearer proximity to the face. Were
these —these the lineaments of William Wilson? I saw, indeed, that they were his, but I
shook as if with a fit of the ague in fancying they were not. What was there about them to
confound me in this manner? I gazed; —while my brain reeled with a multitude of
incoherent thoughts. Not thus he appeared —assuredly not thus -in the vivacity of his
waking hours. The same name! the same contour of person! the same day of arrival at the
academy! And then his dogged and meaningless imitation of my gait, my voice, my
habits, and my manner! Was it, in truth, within the bounds of human possibility, that
what I now saw was the result, merely, of the habitual practice of this sarcastic imitation?
Awe-stricken, and with a creeping shudder, I extinguished the lamp, passed silently from
the chamber, and left, at once, the halls of that old academy, never to enter them again.
After a lapse of some months, spent at home in mere idleness, I found myself a student at
Eton. The brief interval had been sufficient to enfeeble my remembrance of the events at
Dr. Bransby's, or at least to effect a material change in the nature of the feelings with
which I remembered them. The truth —the tragedy —of the drama was no more. I could
now find room to doubt the evidence of my senses; and seldom called up the subject at all
but with wonder at extent of human credulity, and a smile at the vivid force of the
imagination which I hereditarily possessed. Neither was this species of scepticism likely
to be diminished by the character of the life I led at Eton. The vortex of thoughtless folly
into which I there so immediately and so recklessly plunged, washed away all but the
froth of my past hours, engulfed at once every solid or serious impression, and left to
memory only the veriest levities of a former existence.

I do not wish, however, to trace the course of my miserable profligacy here —a profligacy
which set at defiance the laws, while it eluded the vigilance of the institution. Three years
of folly, passed without profit, had but given me rooted habits of vice, and added, in a

somewhat unusual degree, to my bodily stature, when, after a week of soulless
dissipation, I invited a small party of the most dissolute students to a secret carousal in
my chambers. We met at a late hour of the night; for our debaucheries were to be
faithfully protracted until morning. The wine flowed freely, and there were not wanting
other and perhaps more dangerous seductions; so that the gray dawn had already faintly
appeared in the east, while our delirious extravagance was at its height. Madly flushed
with cards and intoxication, I was in the act of insisting upon a toast of more than wonted
profanity, when my attention was suddenly diverted by the violent, although partial
unclosing of the door of the apartment, and by the eager voice of a servant from without.
He said that some person, apparently in great haste, demanded to speak with me in the
hall.

Wildly excited with wine, the unexpected interruption rather delighted than surprised me.
I staggered forward at once, and a few steps brought me to the vestibule of the building.
In this low and small room there hung no lamp; and now no light at all was admitted,
save that of the exceedingly feeble dawn which made its way through the semi-circular
window. As I put my foot over the threshold, I became aware of the figure of a youth
about my own height, and habited in a white kerseymere morning frock, cut in the novel
fashion of the one I myself wore at the moment. This the faint light enabled me to
perceive; but the features of his face I could not distinguish. Upon my entering he strode
hurriedly up to me, and, seizing me by. the arm with a gesture of petulant impatience,
whispered the words "William Wilson!" in my ear.
I grew perfectly sober in an instant.

There was that in the manner of the stranger, and in the tremulous shake of his uplifted
finger, as he held it between my eyes and the light, which filled me with unqualified
amazement; but it was not this which had so violently moved me. It was the pregnancy of
solemn admonition in the singular, low, hissing utterance; and, above all, it was the
character, the tone, the key, of those few, simple, and familiar, yet whispered syllables,
which came with a thousand thronging memories of bygone days, and struck upon my
soul with the shock of a galvanic battery. Ere I could recover the use of my senses he was
gone.

Although this event failed not of a vivid effect upon my disordered imagination, yet was
it evanescent as vivid. For some weeks, indeed, I busied myself in earnest inquiry, or was
wrapped in a cloud of morbid speculation. I did not pretend to disguise from my
perception the identity of the singular individual who thus perseveringly interfered with
my affairs, and harassed me with his insinuated counsel. But who and what was this
Wilson? —and whence came he? —and what were his purposes? Upon neither of these
points could I be satisfied; merely ascertaining, in regard to him, that a sudden accident in
his family had caused his removal from Dr. Bransby's academy on the afternoon of the
day in which I myself had eloped. But in a brief period I ceased to think upon the subject;
my attention being all absorbed in a contemplated departure for Oxford. Thither I soon
went; the uncalculating vanity of my parents furnishing me with an outfit and annual
establishment, which would enable me to indulge at will in the luxury already so dear to
my heart, —to vie in profuseness of expenditure with the haughtiest heirs of the wealthiest
earldoms in Great Britain.

Excited by such appliances to vice, my constitutional temperament broke forth with
redoubled ardor, and I spumed even the common restraints of decency in the mad

infatuation of my revels. But it were absurd to pause in the detail of my extravagance. Let
it suffice, that among spendthrifts I out-Heroded Herod, and that, giving name to a
multitude of novel follies, I added no brief appendix to the long catalogue of vices then
usual in the most dissolute university of Europe.

It could hardly be credited, however, that I had, even here, so utterly f Allan from the
gentlemanly estate, as to seek acquaintance with the vilest arts of the gambler by
profession, and, having become an adept in his despicable science, to practise it
habitually as a means of increasing my already enormous income at the expense of the
weak-minded among my fellow-collegians. Such, nevertheless, was the fact. And the
very enormity of this offence against all manly and honourable sentiment proved, beyond
doubt, the main if not the sole reason of the impunity with which it was committed. Who,
indeed, among my most abandoned associates, would not rather have disputed the
clearest evidence of his senses, than have suspected of such courses, the gay, the frank,
the generous William Wilson —the noblest and most commoner at Oxford —him whose
follies (said his parasites) were but the follies of youth and unbridled fancy —whose
errors but inimitable whim —whose darkest vice but a careless and dashing extravagance?
I had been now two years successfully busied in this way, when there came to the
university a young parvenu nobleman, Glendinning -rich, said report, as Herodes Atticus
-his riches, too, as easily acquired. I soon found him of weak intellect, and, of course,
marked him as a fitting subject for my skill. I frequently engaged him in play, and
contrived, with the gambler's usual art, to let him win considerable sums, the more
effectually to entangle him in my snares. At length, my schemes being ripe, I met him
(with the full intention that this meeting should be final and decisive) at the chambers of a
fellow-commoner, (Mr. Preston,) equally intimate with both, but who, to do him Justice,
entertained not even a remote suspicion of my design. To give to this a better colouring, I
had contrived to have assembled a party of some eight or ten, and was solicitously careful
that the introduction of cards should appear accidental, and originate in the proposal of
my contemplated dupe himself. To be brief upon a vile topic, none of the low finesse was
omitted, so customary upon similar occasions that it is a just matter for wonder how any
are still found so besotted as to fall its victim.

We had protracted our sitting far into the night, and I had at length effected the
manoeuvre of getting Glendinning as my sole antagonist. The game, too, was my favorite
ecarte!. The rest of the company, interested in the extent of our play, had abandoned their
own cards, and were standing around us as spectators. The parvenu, who had been
induced by my artifices in the early part of the evening, to drink deeply, now shuffled,
dealt, or played, with a wild nervousness of manner for which his intoxication, I thought,
might partially, but could not altogether account. In a very short period he had become
my debtor to a large amount, when, having taken a long draught of port, he did precisely
what I had been coolly anticipating —he proposed to double our already extravagant
stakes. With a well-feigned show of reluctance, and not until after my repeated refusal
had seduced him into some angry words which gave a color of pique to my compliance,
did I finally comply. The result, of course, did but prove how entirely the prey was in my
toils; in less than an hour he had quadrupled his debt. For some time his countenance had
been losing the florid tinge lent it by the wine; but now, to my astonishment, I perceived
that it had grown to a pallor truly fearful. I say to my astonishment. Glendinning had been
represented to my eager inquiries as immeasurably wealthy; and the sums which he had

as yet lost, although in themselves vast, could not, I supposed, very seriously annoy,
much less so violently affect him. That he was overcome by the wine just swallowed, was
the idea which most readily presented itself; and, rather with a view to the preservation of
my own character in the eyes of my associates, than from any less interested motive, I
was about to insist, peremptorily, upon a discontinuance of the play, when some
expressions at my elbow from among the company, and an ejaculation evincing utter
despair on the part of Glendinning, gave me to understand that I had effected his total
ruin under circumstances which, rendering him an object for the pity of all, should have
protected him from the ill offices even of a fiend.

What now might have been my conduct it is difficult to say. The pitiable condition of my
dupe had thrown an air of embarrassed gloom over all; and, for some moments, a
profound silence was maintained, during which I could not help feeling my cheeks tingle
with the many burning glances of scorn or reproach cast upon me by the less abandoned
of the party. I will even own that an intolerable weight of anxiety was for a brief instant
lifted from my bosom by the sudden and extraordinary interruption which ensued. The
wide, heavy folding doors of the apartment were all at once thrown open, to their full
extent, with a vigorous and rushing impetuosity that extinguished, as if by magic, every
candle in the room. Their light, in dying, enabled us just to perceive that a stranger had
entered, about my own height, and closely muffled in a cloak. The darkness, however,
was now total; and we could only feel that he was standing in our midst. Before any one
of us could recover from the extreme astonishment into which this rudeness had thrown
all, we heard the voice of the intruder.

"Gentlemen," he said, in a low, distinct, and never-to-be-forgotten whisper which thrilled
to the very marrow of my bones, "Gentlemen, I make no apology for this behaviour,
because in thus behaving, I am but fulfilling a duty. You are, beyond doubt, uninformed
of the true character of the person who has to-night won at ecarte a large sum of money
from Lord Glendinning. I will therefore put you upon an expeditious and decisive plan of
obtaining this very necessary information. Please to examine, at your leisure, the inner
linings of the cuff of his left sleeve, and the several little packages which may be found in
the somewhat capacious pockets of his embroidered morning wrapper."
While he spoke, so profound was the stillness that one might have heard a pin drop upon
the floor. In ceasing, he departed at once, and as abruptly as he had entered. Can I -shall
I describe my sensations? -must I say that I felt all the horrors of the damned? Most
assuredly I had little time given for reflection. Many hands roughly seized me upon the
spot, and lights were immediately reprocured. A search ensued. In the lining of my sleeve
were found all the court cards essential in ecarte, and, in the pockets of my wrapper, a
number of packs, facsimiles of those used at our sittings, with the single exception that
mine were of the species called, technically, arrondees; the honours being slightly convex
at the ends, the lower cards slightly convex at the sides. In this disposition, the dupe who
cuts, as customary, at the length of the pack, will invariably find that he cuts his
antagonist an honor; while the gambler, cutting at the breadth, will, as certainly, cut
nothing for his victim which may count in the records of the game.
Any burst of indignation upon this discovery would have affected me less than the silent
contempt, or the sarcastic composure, with which it was received.
"Mr. Wilson," said our host, stooping to remove from beneath his feet an exceedingly
luxurious cloak of rare furs, "Mr. Wilson, this is your property." (The weather was cold;

and, upon quitting my own room, I had thrown a cloak over my dressing wrapper, putting
it off upon reaching the scene of play.) "I presume it is supererogatory to seek here
(eyeing the folds of the garment with a bitter smile) for any farther evidence of your skill.
Indeed, we have had enough. You will see the necessity, I hope, of quitting Oxford —at
all events, of quitting instantly my chambers."

Abased, humbled to the dust as I then was, it is probable that I should have resented this
galling language by immediate personal violence, had not my whole attention been at the
moment arrested by a fact of the most startling character. The cloak which I had worn
was of a rare description of fur; how rare, how extravagantly costly, I shall not venture to
say. Its fashion, too, was of my own fantastic invention; for I was fastidious to an absurd
degree of coxcombry, in matters of this frivolous nature. When, therefore, Mr. Preston
reached me that which he had picked up upon the floor, and near the folding doors of the
apartment, it was with an astonishment nearly bordering upon terror, that I perceived my
own already hanging on my arm, (where I had no doubt unwittingly placed it,) and that
the one presented me was but its exact counterpart in every, in even the minutest possible
particular. The singular being who had so disastrously exposed me, had been muffled, I
remembered, in a cloak; and none had been worn at all by any of the members of our
party with the exception of myself. Retaining some presence of mind, I took the one
offered me by Preston; placed it, unnoticed, over my own; left the apartment with a
resolute scowl of defiance; and, next morning ere dawn of day, commenced a hurried
journey from Oxford to the continent, in a perfect agony of horror and of shame.
I fled in vain. My evil destiny pursued me as if in exultation, and proved, indeed, that the
exercise of its mysterious dominion had as yet only begun. Scarcely had I set foot in Paris
ere I had fresh evidence of the detestable interest taken by this Wilson in my concerns.
Years flew, while I experienced no relief. Villain! —at Rome, with how untimely, yet
with how spectral an officiousness, stepped he in between me and my ambition! At
Vienna, too —at Berlin —and at Moscow! Where, in truth, had I not bitter cause to curse
him within my heart? From his inscrutable tyranny did I at length flee, panic-stricken, as
from a pestilence; and to the very ends of the earth I fled in vain.
And again, and again, in secret communion with my own spirit, would I demand the
questions "Who is he? —whence came he? —and what are his objects?" But no answer
was there found. And then I scrutinized, with a minute scrutiny, the forms, and the
methods, and the leading traits of his impertinent supervision. But even here there was
very little upon which to base a conjecture. It was noticeable, indeed, that, in no one of
the multiplied instances in which he had of late crossed my path, had he so crossed it
except to frustrate those schemes, or to disturb those actions, which, if fully carried out,
might have resulted in bitter mischief. Poor justification this, in truth, for an authority so
imperiously assumed! Poor indemnity for natural rights of self- agency so pertinaciously,
so insultingly denied!

I had also been forced to notice that my tormentor, for a very long period of time, (while
scrupulously and with miraculous dexterity maintaining his whim of an identity of
apparel with myself,) had so contrived it, in the execution of his varied interference with
my will, that I saw not, at any moment, the features of his face. Be Wilson what he might,
this, at least, was but the veriest of affectation, or of folly. Could he, for an instant, have
supposed that, in my admonisher at Eton —in the destroyer of my honor at Oxford, -in
him who thwarted my ambition at Rome, my revenge at Paris, my passionate love at

Naples, or what he falsely termed my avarice in Egypt, —that in this, my arch-enemy and
evil genius, could fall to recognise the William Wilson of my school boy days, —the
namesake, the companion, the rival, —the hated and dreaded rival at Dr. Bransby's?
Impossible! —But let me hasten to the last eventful scene of the drama.
Thus far I had succumbed supinely to this imperious domination. The sentiment of deep
awe with which I habitually regarded the elevated character, the majestic wisdom, the
apparent omnipresence and omnipotence of Wilson, added to a feeling of even terror,
with which certain other traits in his nature and assumptions inspired me, had operated,
hitherto, to impress me with an idea of my own utter weakness and helplessness, and to
suggest an implicit, although bitterly reluctant submission to his arbitrary will. But, of
late days, I had given myself up entirely to wine; and its maddening influence upon my
hereditary temper rendered me more and more impatient of control. I began to murmur, —
to hesitate, -to resist. And was it only fancy which induced me to believe that, with the
increase of my own firmness, that of my tormentor underwent a proportional diminution?
Be this as it may, I now began to feel the inspiration of a burning hope, and at length
nurtured in my secret thoughts a stern and desperate resolution that I would submit no
longer to be enslaved.

It was at Rome, during the Carnival of 18—, that I attended a masquerade in the palazzo
of the Neapolitan Duke Di Broglio. I had indulged more freely than usual in the excesses
of the wine-table; and now the suffocating atmosphere of the crowded rooms irritated me
beyond endurance. The difficulty, too, of forcing my way through the mazes of the
company contributed not a little to the ruffling of my temper; for I was anxiously seeking,
(let me not say with what unworthy motive) the young, the gay, the beautiful wife of the
aged and doting Di Broglio. With a too unscrupulous confidence she had previously
communicated to me the secret of the costume in which she would be habited, and now,
having caught a glimpse of her person, I was hurrying to make my way into her presence.
—At this moment I felt a light hand placed upon my shoulder, and that ever-remembered,
low, damnable whisper within my ear.

In an absolute phrenzy of wrath, I turned at once upon him who had thus interrupted me,
and seized him violently by tile collar. He was attired, as I had expected, in a costume
altogether similar to my own; wearing a Spanish cloak of blue velvet, begirt about the
waist with a crimson belt sustaining a rapier. A mask of black silk entirely covered his
face.

"Scoundrel!" I said, in a voice husky with rage, while every syllable I uttered seemed as
new fuel to my fury, "scoundrel! impostor! accursed villain! you shall not -you shall not
dog me unto death! Follow me, or I stab you where you stand!" —and I broke my way
from the ball-room into a small ante-chamber adjoining —dragging him unresistingly with
me as I went.

Upon entering, I thrust him furiously from me. He staggered against the wall, while I
closed the door with an oath, and commanded him to draw. He hesitated but for an
instant; then, with a slight sigh, drew in silence, and put himself upon his defence.
The contest was brief indeed. I was frantic with every species of wild excitement, and felt
within my single arm the energy and power of a multitude. In a few seconds I forced him
by sheer strength against the wainscoting, and thus, getting him at mercy, plunged my
sword, with brute ferocity, repeatedly through and through his bosom.
At that instant some person tried the latch of the door. I hastened to prevent an intrusion.

and then immediately returned to my dying antagonist. But what human language can
adequately portray that astonishment, that horror which possessed me at the spectacle
then presented to view? The brief moment in which I averted my eyes had been sufficient
to produce, apparently, a material change in the arrangements at the upper or farther end
of the room. A large mirror, —so at first it seemed to me in my confusion —now stood
where none had been perceptible before; and, as I stepped up to it in extremity of terror,
mine own image, but with features all pale and dabbled in blood, advanced to meet me
with a feeble and tottering gait.

Thus it appeared, I say, but was not. It was my antagonist —it was Wilson, who then
stood before me in the agonies of his dissolution. His mask and cloak lay, where he had
thrown them, upon the floor. Not a thread in all his raiment —not a line in all the marked
and singular lineaments of his face which was not, even in the most absolute identity,
mine own!

It was Wilson; but he spoke no longer in a whisper, and I could have fancied that I myself
was speaking while he said:

"You have conquered, and I yield. Yet, henceforward art thou also dead -dead to the
World, to Heaven and to Hope! In me didst thou exist -and, in my death, see by this
image, which is thine own, how utterly thou hast murdered thyself."

THE END

XING A PARAGRAB

by Edgar Allan Poe

1850

AS it is well known that the 'wise men' came 'from the East,' and as Mr. Touch-and-go
Bullet-head came from the East, it follows that Mr. Bullet-head was a wise man; and if
collateral proof of the matter be needed, here we have it-Mr. B. was an editor. Irascibility
was his sole foible, for in fact the obstinacy of which men accused him was anything but
his foible, since he justly considered it his forte. It was his strong point-his virtue; and it
would have required all the logic of a Brownson to convince him that it was 'anything
else.' I have shown that Touch-and-go Bullet-head was a wise man; and the only occasion
on which he did not prove infallible, was when, abandoning that legitimate home for all
wise men, the East, he migrated to the city of Alexander-the-Great-o-nopolis, or some
place of a similar title, out West.

I must do him the justice to say, however, that when he made up his mind finally to settle
in that town, it was under the impression that no newspaper, and consequently no editor,
existed in that particular section of the country. In establishing 'The Tea-Pot' he expected
to have the field all to himself. I feel confident he never would have dreamed of taking up
his residence in Alexander-the-Great-o-nopolis had he been aware that, in Alexander-the-
Great-o-nopolis, there lived a gentleman named John Smith (if I rightly remember), who
for many years had there quietly grown fat in editing and publishing the 'Alexander-the-
Great-o-nopolis Gazette.' It was solely, therefore, on account of having been
misinformed, that Mr. Bullet-head found himself in Alex-suppose we call it Nopolis, 'for
short'-but, as he did find himself there, he determined to keep up his character for obst-
for firmness, and remain. So remain he did; and he did more; he unpacked his press, type,
etc., etc., rented an office exactly opposite to that of the 'Gazette,' and, on the third
morning after his arrival, issued the first number of 'The Alexan'-that is to say, of 'The
Nopolis Tea-Pot'-as nearly as I can recollect, this was the name of the new paper.

The leading article, I must admit, was brilliant-not to say severe. It was especially bitter
about things in general-and as for the editor of 'The Gazette,' he was torn all to pieces in
particular. Some of BuUethead's remarks were really so fiery that I have always, since
that time, been forced to look upon John Smith, who is still alive, in the light of a
salamander. I cannot pretend to give all the 'Tea-Pot's' paragraphs verbatim, but one of
them runs thus: 'Oh, yes!-Oh, we perceive! Oh, no doubt! The editor over the way is a
genius-0, my! Oh, goodness, gracious !-what is this world coming to? Oh, tempora! Oh,
Moses!'

A philippic at once so caustic and so classical, alighted like a bombshell among the
hitherto peaceful citizens of Nopolis. Groups of excited individuals gathered at the
comers of the streets. Every one awaited, with heartfelt anxiety, the reply of the dignified
Smith. Next moming it appeared as follows:

'We quote from "The Tea- Pot" of yesterday the subjoined paragraph: "Oh, yes! Oh, we
perceive! Oh, no doubt! Oh, my! Oh, goodness! Oh, tempora! Oh, Moses!" Why, the
fellow is all O! That accounts for his reasoning in a circle, and explains why there is
neither beginning nor end to him, nor to anything he says. We really do not believe the
vagabond can write a word that hasn't an O in it. Wonder if this 0-ing is a habit of his?
By-the-by, he came away from Down-East in a great hurry. Wonder if he O's as much
there as he does here? "O! it is pitiful.'"

The indignation of Mr. Bullet-head at these scandalous insinuations, I shall not attempt to
describe. On the eel-skinning principle, however, he did not seem to be so much incensed
at the attack upon his integrity as one might have imagined. It was the sneer at his style
that drove him to desperation. What!-he Touch-and-go Bullet-head!- not able to write a
word without an O in it! He would soon let the jackanapes see that he was mistaken. Yes!
he would let him see how much he was mistaken, the puppy! He, Touch-and-go Bullet-
head, of Frogpondium, would let Mr. John Smith perceive that he. Bullet-head, could
indite, if it so pleased him, a whole paragraph-aye! a whole article-in which that
contemptible vowel should not once-not even once-make its appearance. But no;-that
would be yielding a point to the said John Smith. He, Bullet-head, would make no
alteration in his style, to suit the caprices of any Mr. Smith in Christendom. Perish so vile
a thought! The O forever; He would persist in the O. He would be as 0-wy as 0-wy
could be.

Burning with the chivalry of this determination, the great Touch-and-go, in the next 'Tea-
Pot,' came out merely with this simple but resolute paragraph, in reference to this
unhappy affair: 'The editor of the "Tea-Pot" has the honor of advising the editor of the
"Gazette" that he (the "Tea-Pot") will take an opportunity in tomorrow morning's paper,
of convincing him (the "Gazette") that he (the "Tea-Pot") both can and will be his own
master, as regards style; he (the "Tea-Pot") intending to show him (the "Gazette") the
supreme, and indeed the withering contempt with which the criticism of him (the
"Gazette") inspires the independent bosom of him (the "TeaPot") by composing for the
especial gratification (?) of him (the "Gazette") a leading article, of some extent, in which
the beautiful vowel-the emblem of Eternity-yet so offensive to the hyper-exquisite
delicacy of him (the "Gazette") shall most certainly not be avoided by his (the
"Gazette's") most obedient, humble servant, the "Tea-Pot." "So much for Buckingham!'"

In fulfilment of the awful threat thus darkly intimated rather than decidedly enunciated,
the great Bullet-head, turning a deaf ear to all entreaties for 'copy,' and simply requesting
his foreman to 'go to the d-1,' when he (the foreman) assured him (the 'Tea-Pot'!) that it
was high time to 'go to press': turning a deaf ear to everything, I say, the great Bullet-head
sat up until day-break, consuming the midnight oil, and absorbed in the composition of
the really unparalleled paragraph, which follows:

'So ho, John! how now? Told you so, you know. Don't crow, another time, before you're
out of the woods! Does your mother know you're out? Oh, no, no!-so go home at once,
now, John, to your odious old woods of Concord! Go home to your woods, old owl-go!
You won't! Oh, poh, poh, don't do so! You've got to go, you know! So go at once, and

don't go slow, for nobody owns you here, you know! Oh! John, John, if you don't go
you're no homo-no! You're only a fowl, an owl, a cow, a sow,-a doll, a poll; a poor, old,
good-for-nothing-to-nobody, log, dog, hog, or frog, come out of a Concord bog. Cool,
now-cool! Do be cool, you fool! None of your crowing, old cock! Don't frown so- don't!
Don't hollo, nor howl nor growl, nor bow-wow- wow! Good Lord, John, how you do
look! Told you so, you know-but stop rolling your goose of an old poll about so, and go
and drown your sorrows in a bowl!'

Exhausted, very naturally, by so stupendous an effort, the great Touch-and-go could
attend to nothing farther that night. Firmly, composedly, yet with an air of conscious
power, he handed his MS. to the devil in waiting, and then, walking leisurely home,
retired, with ineffable dignity to bed.

Meantime the devil, to whom the copy was entrusted, ran up stairs to his 'case,' in an
unutterable hurry, and forthwith made a commencement at 'setting' the MS. 'up.'

In the first place, of course,-as the opening word was 'So, '-he made a plunge into the
capital S hole and came out in triumph with a capital S. Elated by this success, he
immediately threw himself upon the little-o box with a blindfold impetuosity-but who
shall describe his horror when his fingers came up without the anticipated letter in their
clutch? who shall paint his astonishment and rage at perceiving, as he rubbed his
knuckles, that he had been only thumping them to no purpose, against the bottom of an
empty box. Not a single little-o was in the little-o hole; and, glancing fearfully at the
capital-0 partition, he found that to his extreme terror, in a precisely similar predicament.
Awe-stricken, his first impulse was to rush to the foreman.

'Sir!' said he, gasping for breath, 'I can't never set up nothing without no o's.'

'What do you mean by that?' growled the foreman, who was in a very ill humor at being
kept so late.

'Why, sir, there beant an o in the office, neither a big un nor a little un!'

'What-what the d-1 has become of all that were in the case?' 'I don't know, sir,' said the
boy, 'but one of them ere "G'zette" devils is bin prowling 'bout here all night, and I spect
he's gone and cabbaged 'em every one.'

'Dod rot him! I haven't a doubt of it,' replied the foreman, getting purple with rage 'but I
tell you what you do. Bob, that's a good boy-you go over the first chance you get and
hook every one of their i's and (d-n them!) their izzards.'

'Jist so,' replied Bob, with a wink and a frown-'I'U be into 'em, I'll let 'em know a thing or
two; but in de meantime, that ere paragrab? Mus go in to-night, you know-else there'll be
the d-1 to pay, and-'

'And not a bit of pitch hot,' interrapted the foreman, with a deep sigh, and an emphasis on
the 'bit.' 'Is it a long paragraph. Bob?' 'Shouldn't call it a wery long paragrab,' said Bob.

'Ah, well, then! do the best you can with it! We must get to press," said the foreman, who
was over head and ears in work; 'just stick in some other letter for o; nobody's going to
read the fellow's trash anyhow.'

'Wery well,' replied Bob, 'here goes it!' and off he hurried to his case, muttering as he
went: 'Considdeble veil, them ere expressions, perticcler for a man as doesn't swar. So I's
to gouge out all their eyes, eh? and d-n all their gizzards! Veil! this here's the chap as is
just able for to do it.' The fact is that although Bob was but twelve years old and four feet
high, he was equal to any amount of fight, in a small way.

The exigency here described is by no means of rare occurrence in printing-offices; and I
cannot tell how to account for it, but the fact is indisputable, that when the exigency does
occur, it almost always happens that x is adopted as a substitute for the letter deficient.
The true reason, perhaps, is that x is rather the most superabundant letter in the cases, or
at least was so in the old times-long enough to render the substitution in question an
habitual thing with printers. As for Bob, he would have considered it heretical to employ
any other character, in a case of this kind, than the x to which he had been accustomed.

'I shell have to x this ere paragrab,' said he to himself, as he read it over in astonishment,
'but it's jest about the awfulest o-wy paragrab I ever did see': so x it he did, unflinchingly,
and to press it went x-ed.

Next morning the population of Nopolis were taken all aback by reading in 'The Tea- Pot,'
the following extraordinary leader: 'Sx hx, Jxhn! hxw nxw? Txld yxu sx, yxu knxw. Dxn't
crxw, anxther time, befxre yxu're xut xf the wxxds! Dxes yxur mxther knxw yxu're xut?
Xh, nx, nx!-sx gx hxme at xnce, nxw, Jxhn, tx yxur xdixus xld wxxds xf Cxncxrd! Gx
hxme tx yxur wxxds, xld xwl,-gx! Yxu wxn't? Xh, pxh, pxh, Jxhn, dxn't dx sx! Yxu've
gxt tx gx, yxu knxw, sx gx at xnce, and dxn't gx slxw; fxr nxbxdy xwns yxu here, yxu
knxw. Xh, Jxhn, Jxhn, Jxhn, if yxu dxn't gx yxu're nx hxmx-nx! Yxu're xnly a fxwl, an
xwl; a cxw, a sxw; a dxU, a pxU; a pxxr xld gxxd-fxr-nxthing-tx-nxbxdy, Ixg, dxg, hxg, xr
frxg, cxme xut xf a Cxncxrd bxg. Cxxl, nxw-cxxl! Dx be cxxl, yxu fxxl! Nxne xf yxur
crxwing, xld cxck! Dxn't frxwn sx-dxn't! Dxn't hxUx, nxr hxwl, nxr grxwl, nxr bxw-
wxw-wxw! Gxxd Lxrd, Jxhn, hxw yxu dx Ixxk! Txld yxu sx, yxu knxw,-but stxp rxUing
yxur gxxse xf an xld pxU abxut sx, and gx and drxwn yxur sxrrxws in a bxwl!'

The uproar occasioned by this mystical and cabalistical article, is not to be conceived.
The first definite idea entertained by the populace was, that some diabolical treason lay
concealed in the hieroglyphics; and there was a general rush to Bullet-head's residence,
for the purpose of riding him on a rail; but that gentleman was nowhere to be found. He
had vanished, no one could tell how; and not even the ghost of him has ever been seen
since. Unable to discover its legitimate object, the popular fury at length subsided;
leaving behind it, by way of sediment, quite a medley of opinion about this unhappy
affair.

One gentleman thought the whole an X-ellent joke. Another said that, indeed, Bullet-head
had shown much X-uberance of fancy.

A third admitted him X-entric, but no more.

A fourth could only suppose it the Yankee's design to X-press, in a general way, his X-
asperation.

'Say, rather, to set an X-ample to posterity,' suggested a fifth. That Bullet-head had been
driven to an extremity, was clear to all; and in fact, since that editor could not be found,
there was some talk about lynching the other one.

The more common conclusion, however, was that the affair was, simply, X-traordinary
and in-X-plicable. Even the town mathematician confessed that he could make nothing of
so dark a problem. X, every, body knew, was an unknown quantity; but in this case (as he
properly observed), there was an unknown quantity of X.

The opinion of Bob, the devil (who kept dark about his having 'X-ed the paragrab'), did
not meet with so much attention as I think it deserved, although it was very openly and
very fearlessly expressed. He said that, for his part, he had no doubt about the matter at
all, that it was a clear case, that Mr. Bullet-head 'never could be persuaded fur to drink
like other folks, but vas continually a-svigging o' that ere blessed XXX ale, and as a
naiteral consekvence, it just puffed him up savage, and made him X (cross) in the X-
treme.'

THE END

The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Part 4