Убийство на улице Морг

           Dupinsaidthelastwordsinaverylowtone,andveryquietly.Justasquietly,too,hewalkedtowardthedoor,lockedit,andputthekeyinhispocket.Hethendrewapistolfromhisbosomandplacedit,withouttheleastflurry,uponthetable. 

           Thesailor’sfaceflushedupasifhewerestrugglingwithsuffocation.Hestartedtohisfeetandgraspedhiscudgel;butthenextmomenthefellbackintohisseat,tremblingviolently,andwiththecountenanceofdeathitself.Hespokenotaword.Ipitiedhimfromthebottomofmyheart. 

           “Myfriend,”saidDupin,inakindtone,“youarealarmingyourselfunnecessarily—youareindeed.Wemeanyounoharmwhatever.Ipledgeyouthehonorofagentleman,andofaFrenchman,thatweintendyounoinjury.IperfectlywellknowthatyouareinnocentoftheatrocitiesintheRueMorgue.Itwillnotdo,however,todenythatyouareinsomemeasureimplicatedinthem.FromwhatIhavealreadysaid,youmustknowthatIhavehadmeansofinformationaboutthismatter—meansofwhichyoucouldneverhavedreamed.Nowthethingstandsthus.Youhavedonenothingwhichyoucouldhaveavoided—nothing,certainly,whichrendersyouculpable.Youwerenotevenguiltyofrobbery,whenyoumighthaverobbedwithimpunity.Youhavenothingtoconceal.Youhavenoreasonforconcealment.Ontheotherhand,youareboundbyeveryprincipleofhonortoconfessallyouknow.