Падение дома Ашеров

           Iheardthem—many,manydaysago—yetIdarednot—Idarednotspeak! Andnow—to-night—Ethelred—ha!ha!—thebreakingofthehermit’sdoor,andthedeath-cryofthedragon,andtheclangoroftheshield! —say,rather,therendingofhercoffin,andthegratingoftheironhingesofherprison,andherstruggleswithinthecopperedarchwayofthevault! Oh!whithershallIfly? Willshenotbehereanon? Isshenothurryingtoupbraidmeformyhaste? HaveInotheardherfootsteponthestair? DoInotdistinguishthatheavyandhorriblebeatingofherheart? Madman!”—herehesprangfuriouslytohisfeet,andshriekedouthissyllables,asifintheeffortheweregivinguphissoul—“Madman! Itellyouthatshenowstandswithoutthedoor!” 

           Asifinthesuperhumanenergyofhisutterancetherehadbeenfoundthepotencyofaspell,thehugeantiquepanelstowhichthespeakerpointedthrewslowlyback,upontheinstant,theirponderousandebonyjaws. Itwastheworkoftherushinggust—butthenwithoutthosedoorstheredidstandtheloftyandenshroudedfigureoftheladyMadelineofUsher. Therewasblooduponherwhiterobes,andtheevidenceofsomebitterstruggleuponeveryportionofheremaciatedframe. Foramomentsheremainedtremblingandreelingtoandfrouponthethreshold—then,withalowmoaningcry,fellheavilyinwarduponthepersonofherbrother,andinherviolentandnowfinaldeath-agonies,borehimtotheflooracorpse,andavictimtotheterrorshehadanticipated.