American Monthly Knickerbocker, Volume 59Charles Fenno Hoffman, Lewis Gaylord Clark, Timothy Flint, Kinahan Cornwallis, John Holmes Agnew 1862 |
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Page 38
Mr. Retzcar's half - brother . ' · Where does he reside ? ' ' In the city ' • Is it for sale ? ' ' I have heard so . But the story of the house , Sir , is a very strange ' one , ' said my companion . Would you like to hear it ?
Mr. Retzcar's half - brother . ' · Where does he reside ? ' ' In the city ' • Is it for sale ? ' ' I have heard so . But the story of the house , Sir , is a very strange ' one , ' said my companion . Would you like to hear it ?
Page 44
Then you shall hear my story , and condemn or not as you please . I have lived in this house alone for four years , as nearly as I can calculate . I swore that one whom I hated I would slay . I have done so .
Then you shall hear my story , and condemn or not as you please . I have lived in this house alone for four years , as nearly as I can calculate . I swore that one whom I hated I would slay . I have done so .
Page 48
Should you hear of my death , inform my relative , Mr. Bylenne , of the facts I have narrated . Until then keep my secret . ' The ship on which the unhappy Mr. Retzcar sailed , foundered at sea , and all on board perished .
Should you hear of my death , inform my relative , Mr. Bylenne , of the facts I have narrated . Until then keep my secret . ' The ship on which the unhappy Mr. Retzcar sailed , foundered at sea , and all on board perished .
Page 49
I start at the door with sudden shock , And shiver , before I turn the lock , As I hear , far off , the mid - night clock . The last mid - night of summer sounds , Like a ghostly watchman crying his rounds , Or the baying of Actæon's ...
I start at the door with sudden shock , And shiver , before I turn the lock , As I hear , far off , the mid - night clock . The last mid - night of summer sounds , Like a ghostly watchman crying his rounds , Or the baying of Actæon's ...
Page 60
... sad centuries upon myriad millions of Slavonian hearts ; and when we hear the wailing song of the Troika ; of the sorrowing postillion driving his sleigh along the snowy waste , singing to accompaniment of one mournful tinkling bell ...
... sad centuries upon myriad millions of Slavonian hearts ; and when we hear the wailing song of the Troika ; of the sorrowing postillion driving his sleigh along the snowy waste , singing to accompaniment of one mournful tinkling bell ...
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