Short Fiction Edgar Allan Poe (books for men to read .txt) đ
- Author: Edgar Allan Poe
Book online «Short Fiction Edgar Allan Poe (books for men to read .txt) đ». Author Edgar Allan Poe
âUpon this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma solved; for the phrase âmain branch, seventh limb, east side,â could refer only to the position of the skull upon the tree, while âshoot from the left eye of the deathâs-headâ admitted, also, of but one interpretation, in regard to a search for buried treasure. I perceived that the design was to drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull, and that a beeline, or, in other words, a straight line, drawn from the nearest point of the trunk through âthe shot,â (or the spot where the bullet fell,) and thence extended to a distance of fifty feet, would indicate a definite pointâ âand beneath this point I thought it at least possible that a deposit of value lay concealed.â
âAll this,â I said, âis exceedingly clear, and, although ingenious, still simple and explicit. When you left the Bishopâs Hotel, what then?â
âWhy, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned homewards. The instant that I left âthe devilâs seat,â however, the circular rift vanished; nor could I get a glimpse of it afterwards, turn as I would. What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole business, is the fact (for repeated experiment has convinced me it is a fact) that the circular opening in question is visible from no other attainable point of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge upon the face of the rock.
âIn this expedition to the âBishopâs Hotelâ I had been attended by Jupiter, who had, no doubt, observed, for some weeks past, the abstraction of my demeanor, and took especial care not to leave me alone. But, on the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to give him the slip, and went into the hills in search of the tree. After much toil I found it. When I came home at night my valet proposed to give me a flogging. With the rest of the adventure I believe you are as well acquainted as myself.â
âI suppose,â said I, âyou missed the spot, in the first attempt at digging, through Jupiterâs stupidity in letting the bug fall through the right instead of through the left eye of the skull.â
âPrecisely. This mistake made a difference of about two inches and a half in the âshotââ âthat is to say, in the position of the peg nearest the tree; and had the treasure been beneath the âshot,â the error would have been of little moment; but âthe shot,â together with the nearest point of the tree, were merely two points for the establishment of a line of direction; of course the error, however trivial in the beginning, increased as we proceeded with the line, and by the time we had gone fifty feet, threw us quite off the scent. But for my deep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere actually buried, we might have had all our labor in vain.â
âBut your grandiloquence, and your conduct in swinging the beetleâ âhow excessively odd! I was sure you were mad. And why did you insist upon letting fall the bug, instead of a bullet, from the skull?â
âWhy, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident suspicions touching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly, in my own way, by a little bit of sober mystification. For this reason I swung the beetle, and for this reason I let it fall it from the tree. An observation of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea.â
âYes, I perceive; and now there is only one point which puzzles me. What are we to make of the skeletons found in the hole?â
âThat is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself. There seems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for themâ âand yet it is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion would imply. It is clear that Kiddâ âif Kidd indeed secreted this treasure, which I doubt notâ âit is clear that he must have had assistance in the labor. But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to remove all participants in his secret. Perhaps a couple of blows with a mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit; perhaps it required a dozenâ âwho shall tell?â
The Black CatFor the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I notâ âand very surely do I not dream. But tomorrow I die, and today I would unburden my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment, a series of mere household events. In their consequences, these events have terrifiedâ âhave torturedâ âhave destroyed me. Yet I will not attempt to expound them. To me, they have presented little but horrorâ âto many they
Comments (0)