Tales of Mystery and Imagination

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Edgar Allan Poe. Tales of Mystery and Imagination

TALES OF MYSTERY AND IMAGINATION

The Fall of the House of Usher

The Black Cat

The Masque of the Red Death

William Wilson

The Tell-Tale Heart

GLOSSARY

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

OXFORD BOOKWORMS LIBRARY

THE OXFORD BOOKWORMS LIBRARY GRADING AND SAMPLE EXTRACTS

Отрывок из книги

It was a grey autumn day and the sky was full of large black clouds. All day I had ridden through flat and uninteresting countryside, but at last, as it began to grow dark, I saw the end of my journey.

There, in front of me, stood the House of Usher. And at once – I do not know why – a strange feeling of deep gloom came down on me and covered me like a blanket. I looked up at the old house with its high stone walls and narrow windows. I looked around at the thin dry grass and the old dying trees, and an icy hand seemed to take hold of my heart. I felt cold and sick, and could not think of one happy thought to chase away my gloom.

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Why, I wondered, did the House of Usher make me feel so sad? I could find no answer.

There was a lake next to the house and I rode my horse up to the edge and stopped. Perhaps from here the house would not seem so sad, so full of gloom. I looked down into the mirror of dark, still water, and saw again the empty, eye-like windows of the house and the dying trees all around it. The feeling of gloom was stronger than ever.

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