



The Works of Edgar Allan Poe

by Edgar Allan Poe

The Raven Edition

VOLUME II. Contents

 THE PURLOINED LETTER
 THE THOUSAND-AND-SECOND TALE OF SCHEHERAZADE
 A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM. VON KEMPELEN AND HIS DISCOVERY
 MESMERIC REVELATION
 THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF M. VALDEMAR
 THE BLACK CAT. THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER
 SILENCE—A FABLE
 THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH. THE CASK OF AMONTILLADO. THE IMP OF THE PERVERSE
 THE ISLAND OF THE FAY
 THE ASSIGNATION
 THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM
 THE PREMATURE BURIAL
 THE DOMAIN OF ARNHEIM
 LANDOR’S COTTAGE
 WILLIAM WILSO
 THE TELL-TALE HEART. BERENICE
 ELEONORA
 NOTES TO THE SECOND VOLUME

[Redactor’s Note—Some endnotes are by Poe and some were added by
Griswold. In this volume the notes are at the end.] THE PURLOINED LETTER


Nil sapientiæ odiosius acumine nimio.—_Seneca_. At Paris, just after dark one gusty evening in the autumn of 18-,
      I was enjoying the twofold luxury of meditation and a meerschaum,
      in company with my friend C. Auguste Dupin, in his little back
      library, or book-closet, _au troisième_, No. 33, _Rue Dunôt,
      Faubourg St. Germain_. For one hour at least we had maintained a
      profound silence; while each, to any casual observer, might have
      seemed intently and exclusively occupied with the curling eddies
      of smoke that oppressed the atmosphere of the chamber. For
      myself, however, I was mentally discussing certain topics which
      had formed matter for conversation between us at an earlier
      period of the evening; I mean the affair of the Rue Morgue, and
      the mystery attending the murder of Marie Rogêt. I looked upon
      it, therefore, as something of a coincidence, when the door of
      our apartment was thrown open and admitted our old acquaintance,
      Monsieur G——, the Prefect of the Parisian police. We gave him a hearty welcome; for there was nearly half as much
      of the entertaining as of the contemptible about the man, and we
      had not seen him for several years. We had been sitting in the
      dark, and Dupin now arose for the purpose of lighting a lamp, but
      sat down again, without doing so, upon G.‘s saying that he had
      called to consult us, or rather to ask the opinion of my friend,
      about some official business which had occasioned a great deal of
      trouble. “If it is any point requiring reflection,” observed Dupin, as he
      forebore to enkindle the wick, “we shall examine it to better
      purpose in the dark.”

      “That is another of your odd notions,” said the Prefect, who had
      a fashion of calling every thing “odd” that was beyond his
      comprehension, and thus lived amid an absolute legion of
      “oddities.”

      “Very true,” said Dupin, as he supplied his visitor with a pipe,
      and rolled towards him a comfortable chair. “And what is the difficulty now?” I asked. “Nothing more in the
      assassination way, I hope?”

      “Oh no; nothing of that nature. The fact is, the business is very
      simple indeed, and I make no doubt that we can manage it
      sufficiently well ourselves; but then I thought Dupin would like
      to hear the details of it, because it is so excessively odd.”

      “Simple and odd,” said Dupin. “Why, yes; and not exactly that, either. The fact is, we have all
      been a good deal puzzled because the affair is so simple, and yet
      baffles us altogether.”

      “Perhaps it is the very simplicity of the thing which puts you at
      fault,” said my friend. “What nonsense you do talk!” replied the Prefect, laughing
      heartily. “Perhaps the mystery is a little too plain,” said Dupin. “Oh, good heavens! who ever heard of such an idea?”

      “A little too self-evident.”

      “Ha! ha! ha—ha! ha! ha!—ho! ho! ho!” roared our visitor,
      profoundly amused, “oh, Dupin, you will be the death of me yet!”

      “And what, after all, is the matter on hand?” I asked. “Why, I will tell you,” replied the Prefect, as he gave a long,
      steady and contemplative puff, and settled himself in his chair. “I will tell you in a few words; but, before I begin, let me
      caution you that this is an affair demanding the greatest
      secrecy, and that I should most probably lose the position I now
      hold, were it known that I confided it to any one.”

      “Proceed,” said I. “Or not,” said Dupin. “Well, then; I have received personal information, from a very
      high quarter, that a certain document of the last importance has
      been purloined from the royal apartments. The individual who
      purloined it is known; this beyond a doubt; he was seen to take
      it. It is known, also, that it still remains in his possession.”

      “How is this known?” asked Dupin. “It is clearly inferred,” replied the Prefect, “from the nature
      of the document, and from the non-appearance of certain results
      which would at once arise from its passing out of the robber’s
      possession; that is to say, from his employing it as he must
      design in the end to employ it.”

      “Be a little more explicit,” I said. “Well, I may venture so far as to say that the paper gives its
      holder a certain power in a certain quarter where such power is
      immensely valuable.” The Prefect was fond of the cant of
      diplomacy. “Still I do not quite understand,” said Dupin. “No? Well; the disclosure of the document to a third person, who
      shall be nameless, would bring in question the honor of a
      personage of most exalted station; and this fact gives the holder
      of the document an ascendancy over the illustrious personage
      whose honor and peace are so jeopardized.”

      “But this ascendancy,” I interposed, “would depend upon the
      robber’s knowledge of the loser’s knowledge of the robber. Who
      would dare—”

      “The thief,” said G., “is the Minister D——, who dares all things,
      those unbecoming as well as those becoming a man. The method of
      the theft was not less ingenious than bold. The document in
      question—a letter, to be frank—had been received by the personage
      robbed while alone in the royal boudoir. During its perusal she
      was suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the other exalted
      personage from whom especially it was her wish to conceal it. After a hurried and vain endeavor to thrust it in a drawer, she
      was forced to place it, open as it was, upon a table. The
      address, however, was uppermost, and, the contents thus
      unexposed, the letter escaped notice. At this juncture enters the
      Minister D——. His lynx eye immediately perceives the paper,
      recognises the handwriting of the address, observes the confusion
      of the personage addressed, and fathoms her secret.