Read it through once

One night, as I sat, the clock told the hour of twelve. I knew that the old man was awake because I could hear him in the bed talking softly to himself, and moving about quite in the manner of one who converses in his sleep. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers. And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously — oh, so cautiously — cautiously (for the hinges creaked) — and I threw open the lanterns all so that a single ray fell upon the vulture eye.