The works of Edgar Allan Poe; newly collected and edited, with a memoir, critical introductions, and notes, by Edmund Clarence Stedman and George Edward Woodberry; the illustrations by Albert Edward Sterner.

OLD-WORLD ROMANCE

groping of the way. And now an indescribable uneasiness possessed me - a species of nervous hesitation and tremor. I feared to tread, lest I should be
precipitated into some abyss. I remembered, too,
strange stories told about these Ragged Hills, and of
the uncouth and fierce races of men who tenanted
their groves and caverns. A thousand vague fancies
oppressed and disconcerted me: fancies the more distressing because vague. Very suddenly my attention
was arrested by the loud beating of a drum.
"My amazement was, of course, extreme. A drum
in these hills was a thing unknown. I could not have
been more surprised at the sound of the trump of
the Archangel. But a new and still more astounding
source of interest and perplexity arose. There came
a wild rattling or jingling sound, as if of a bunch of
large keys - and upon the instant a dusky-visaged and
half-naked man rushed past me with a shriek. He
came so close to my person that I felt his hot breath
upon my face. He bore in one hand an instrument
composed of an assemblage of steel rings, and shook
them vigorously as he ran. Scarcely had he dis.
appeared in the mist, before, panting after him, with
open mouth and glaring eyes, there darted a huge
beast. I could not be mistaken in its character. It
was a hyena.
"The sight of this monster rather relieved than
heightened my terrors; for I now made sure that I
dreamed, and endeavored to arouse myself to waking
consciousness. I stepped boldly and briskly forward.
I rubbed my eyes. I called aloud. I pinched my
limbs. A small spring of water presented itself to
my view, and here, stooping, I bathed my hands and
my head and neck. This seemed to dissipate the
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