Маска Червоної Смерті

           Andnowagainthemusicswells,andthedreamslive,andwrithetoandfromoremerrilythanever,takinghuefromthemany-tintedwindowsthroughwhichstreamtheraysfromthetripods. Buttothechamberwhichliesmostwestwardlyoftheseven,therearenownoneofthemaskerswhoventure; forthenightiswaningaway;andthereflowsaruddierlightthroughtheblood-coloredpanes;andtheblacknessofthesabledraperyappals; andtohimwhosefootfallsuponthesablecarpet,therecomesfromthenearclockofebonyamuffledpealmoresolemnlyemphaticthananywhichreachestheirearswhoindulgeinthemoreremotegaietiesoftheotherapartments. 

           Buttheseotherapartmentsweredenselycrowded,andinthembeatfeverishlytheheartoflife. Andtherevelwentwhirlinglyon,untilatlengththerecommencedthesoundingofmidnightupontheclock. Andthenthemusicceased,asIhavetold;andtheevolutionsofthewaltzerswerequieted;andtherewasanuneasycessationofallthingsasbefore. Butnowthereweretwelvestrokestobesoundedbythebelloftheclock;andthusithappened,perhaps,thatmoreofthoughtcrept,withmoreoftime,intothemeditationsofthethoughtfulamongthosewhorevelled. Andthus,too,ithappened,perhaps,thatbeforethelastechoesofthelastchimehadutterlysunkintosilence,thereweremanyindividualsinthecrowdwhohadfoundleisuretobecomeawareofthepresenceofamaskedfigurewhichhadarrestedtheattentionofnosingleindividualbefore.