Випадок Чарльза Декстера Варда

           Itcouldbedonequietly,andeventhewidowandherfatherneednotbetoldhowitcameabout.

           Whiletheseseriousstepswereunderdiscussionthereoccurredinthetownanincidentsoterribleandinexplicablethatforatimelittleelsewasmentionedformilesaround.Inthemiddleofamoon-lightJanuarynightwithheavysnowunderfootthereresoundedovertheriverandupthehillashockingseriesofcrieswhichbroughtsleepyheadstoeverywindow;andpeoplearoundWeybossetPointsawagreatwhitethingplungingfranticallyalongthebadlyclearedspaceinfrontoftheTurk’sHead.Therewasabayingofdogsinthedistance,butthissubsidedassoonastheclamoroftheawakenedtownbecameaudible.Partiesofmenwithlanternsandmusketshurriedouttoseewhatwashappening,butnothingrewardedtheirsearch.Thenextmorning,however,agiant,muscularbody,starknaked,wasfoundonthejamsoficearoundthesouthernpiersoftheGreatBridge,wheretheLongDockstretchedoutbesideAbbott’sdistill-house,andtheidentityofthisobjectbecameathemeforendlessspeculationandwhispering.Itwasnotsomuchtheyoungerastheolderfolkwhowhispered,foronlyinthepatriarchsdidthatrigidfacewithhorror-bulgingeyesstrikeanychordofmemory.They,shakingastheydidso,exchangedfurtivemurmursofwonderandfear;forinthosestiff,hideousfeatureslayaresemblancesomarvelousastobealmostanidentity—andthatidentitywaswithamanwhohaddiedfullfiftyyearsbefore.