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Poe, Edgar Allan, 1809-1849

"Classic Mystery and Detective Stories: Modern English"


"They have but one retreat," whispered Holmes. "That is back through the
house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope that you have done what I asked you,
Jones?"
"I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door."
"Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and wait."
What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards, it was but an hour
and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must have almost gone,
and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary and stiff, for I
feared to change my position, yet my nerves were worked up to the highest
pitch of tension, and my hearing was so acute that I could not only hear
the gentle breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper,
heavier inbreath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of the
bank director. From my position I could look over the case in the
direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caught the glint of a light.
At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it
lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, without any
warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared, a white,
almost womanly hand, which felt about in the center of the little area of
light. For a minute or more the hand, with its writhing fingers,
protruded out of the floor.


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