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Poe, Edgar Allan, 1809-1849

"Classic Mystery and Detective Stories: Modern English"


Window by window we tried the different supports, now and then making an
inconsiderable change; and the strokes of the hammer sounded with
startling loudness through the house. I proposed, I remember, to make
loop-holes; but he told me they were already made in the windows of the
upper story. It was an anxious business, this inspection, and left me
down-hearted. There were two doors and five windows to protect, and,
counting Clara, only four of us to defend them against an unknown number
of foes. I communicated my doubts to Northmour, who assured me, with
unmoved composure, that he entirely shared them.
"Before morning," said he, "we shall all be butchered and buried in Graden
Floe. For me, that is written."
I could not help shuddering at the mention of the quicksand, but reminded
Northmour that our enemies had spared me in the wood.
"Do not flatter yourself," said he. "Then you were not in the same boat
with the old gentleman; now you are. It's the floe for all of us, mark my
words."
I trembled for Clara; and just then her dear voice was heard calling us to
come upstairs. Northmour showed me the way, and, when he had reached the
landing, knocked at the door of what used to be called My Uncle's Bedroom,
as the founder of the pavilion had designed it especially for himself.
"Come in, Northmour; come in, dear Mr.


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