I crossed a bridge to the house. A man was waiting for me on the other side, and he took my horse. I went into the house and another man took me through it. He did not say a word. Each room was very dark.
I felt as uncomfortable inside the house as outside. Even ordinary furniture looked strange. Then, near a stairway, I met the family doctor. He too acted strangely. He said hello nervously, but walked quickly away.
At last my guide took me to the door of Roderick Usher’s room and let me in.
It was difficult to see the room because there was little light. It seemed very large, though, with a black, wooden floor. The furniture was old and looked uncomfortable. Books were everywhere, but they brought no life in the room. The air was heavy with sadness.
