Thou Art the Man E-Book

Edgar Allan Poe

• Herausgeber: SAMPI Books
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 27

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

In a small town, the wealthy Mr. Shuttleworthy mysteriously disappears, and suspicion falls on his reckless nephew, Pennifeather. As the investigation unfolds, Charles Goodfellow—Shuttleworthy's seemingly loyal friend—pretends to grieve and insists on waiting before taking action, all while secretly manipulating events to frame Pennifeather. However, through a clever trick, the true murderer is exposed in a dramatic revelation. "Thou Art the Man" showcases Poe's signature blend of psychological tension, irony, and a darkly humorous twist on justice.

Leseprobe

Thou Art the Man

Edgar Allan Poe

SYNOPSIS

In a small town, the wealthy Mr. Shuttleworthy mysteriously disappears, and suspicion falls on his reckless nephew, Pennifeather. As the investigation unfolds, Charles Goodfellow—Shuttleworthy’s seemingly loyal friend—pretends to grieve and insists on waiting before taking action, all while secretly manipulating events to frame Pennifeather. However, through a clever trick, the true murderer is exposed in a dramatic revelation. "Thou Art the Man" showcases Poe’s signature blend of psychological tension, irony, and a darkly humorous twist on justice.

Keywords

Deception, Suspense, Irony

NOTICE

This text is a work in the public domain and reflects the norms, values and perspectives of its time. Some readers may find parts of this content offensive or disturbing, given the evolution in social norms and in our collective understanding of issues of equality, human rights and mutual respect. We ask readers to approach this material with an understanding of the historical era in which it was written, recognizing that it may contain language, ideas or descriptions that are incompatible with today's ethical and moral standards.

Names from foreign languages will be preserved in their original form, with no translation.

Thou Art the Man

I will now play the Oedipus to the Rattleborough enigma. I will expound to you—as I alone can—the secret of the enginery that effected the Rattleborough miracle—the one, the true, the admitted, the undisputed, the indisputable miracle, which put a definite end to infidelity among the Rattleburghers and converted to the orthodoxy of the grandames all the carnal-minded who had ventured to be skeptical before.

This event—which I should be sorry to discuss in a tone of unsuitable levity—occurred in the summer of 18—. Mr. Barnabas Shuttleworthy—one of the wealthiest and most respectable citizens of the borough—had been missing for several days under circumstances which gave rise to suspicion of foul play. Mr. Shuttleworthy had set out from Rattleborough very early one Saturday morning, on horseback, with the avowed intention of proceeding to the city of…, about fifteen miles distant, and of returning the night of the same day. Two hours after his departure, however, his horse returned without him, and without the saddlebags which had been strapped on his back at starting. The animal was wounded, too, and covered with mud. These circumstances naturally gave rise to much alarm among the friends of the missing man; and when it was found, on Sunday morning, that he had not yet made his appearance, the whole borough arose en masse to go and look for his body.

The foremost and most energetic in instituting this search was the bosom friend of Mr. Shuttleworthy—a Mr. Charles Goodfellow, or, as he was universally called, “Charley Goodfellow,” or “Old Charley Goodfellow.” Now, whether it is a marvelous coincidence, or whether it is that the name itself has an imperceptible effect upon the character, I have never yet been able to ascertain; but the fact is unquestionable, that there never yet was any person named Charles who was not an open, manly, honest, good-natured, and frank-hearted fellow, with a rich, clear voice, that did you good to hear it, and an eye that looked you always straight in the face, as much as to say: “I have a clear conscience myself, am afraid of no man, and am altogether above doing a mean action.” And thus all the hearty, careless, “walking gentlemen” of the stage are very certain to be called Charles.