The Murders in the Rue Morgue, Edgar Allan Poe [amazing books to read .txt] 📗

I have scarcely anything to add. The Ourang-Outang must have escaped

from the chamber, by the rod, just before the break of the door. It

must have closed the window as it passed through it. It was

subsequently caught by the owner himself, who obtained for it a very

large sum at the Jardin des Plantes. Le Don was instantly released,

upon our narration of the circumstances (with some comments from

Dupin) at the bureau of the Prefect of Police. This functionary,

however well disposed to my friend, could not altogether conceal his

chagrin at the turn which affairs had taken, and was fain to indulge

in a sarcasm or two, about the propriety of every person minding his

own business.

“Let him talk,” said Dupin,, who had not thought it necessary to

reply. “Let him discourse; it will ease his conscience, I am

satisfied with having defeated him in his own castle. Nevertheless,

that he failed in the solution of this mystery, is by no means that

matter for wonder which he supposes it; for, in truth, our friend the

Prefect is somewhat too cunning to be profound. In his wisdom is no

stamen. It is all head and no body, like the pictures of the

Goddess Laverna, — or, at best, all head and shoulders, like a

codfish. But he is a good creature after all. I like him especially

for one master stroke of cant, by which he has attained his

reputation for ingenuity. I mean the way he has ‘_de nier ce qui est,

et d’expliquer ce qui n’est pas._’ ” *

* Rousseau - Nouvelle Heloise.