Questões de Inglês

Instrução: A questão refere-se ao texto abaixo.

The Terrible Old Man

by H. P. Lovecraft

[1]    It was the design of Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This
old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both
exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms a situation very attractive to men of the profession
of Ricci, Czanek, and Silva, for that profession was nothing less dignified than robbery

[5]    The inhabitants of Kingsport say and think many things about the Terrible Old Man which generally
keep him safe from the attention of gentlemen like Mr. Ricci and his colleagues, despite the almost certain
fact that he hides a fortune of indefinite magnitude somewhere about his musty and venerable abode. He
is, in truth, a very strange person, believed to have been a captain of East India clipper ships in his day; so
old that no one can remember when he was young, and so taciturn that few know his real name.
[10]    Among the gnarled trees in the front yard of his aged and neglected place he maintains a strange
collection of large stones, oddly grouped and painted so that they resemble the idols in some obscure
Eastern temple. This collection frightens away most of the small boys who love to taunt the Terrible Old
Man about his long white hair and beard, and to break the small-paned windows of his dwelling with
wicked missiles; but there are other things which frighten the older and more curious folks who sometimes
[15] steal up to the house to peer in through the dusty panes. These folks say that on a table in a bare room on
the ground floor are many peculiar bottles, in each a small piece of lead suspended pendulum-wise from
a string. And they say that the Terrible Old Man talks to these bottles, addressing them by such names as
Jack, Scar-Face, Long Tom, Spanish Joe, Peters, and Mate Ellis, and that whenever he speaks to a bottle
the little lead pendulum within makes certain definite vibrations as if in answer. Those who have watched
[20] the tall, lean, Terrible Old Man in these peculiar conversations, do not watch him again.
    However, Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva were not afraid and saw in the Terrible Old
Man merely a tottering, almost helpless greybeard, who could not walk without the aid of his knotted
cane, and whose thin, weak hands shook pitifully. They were really quite sorry in their way for the lonely,
unpopular old fellow, whom everybody shunned, and at whom all the dogs barked singularly. But business
[25] is business, and to a robber whose soul is in his profession, there is a lure and a challenge about a very old
and very feeble man who has no account at the bank, and who pays for his few necessities at the village
store with Spanish gold and silver minted two centuries ago.
     Ricci, Czanek, and Silva selected the night of April 11th for their call. Mr. Ricci and Mr. Silva were to
interview the poor old gentleman, whilst Mr. Czanek waited for them and their presumable metallic burden
[30] with a car in Ship Street, by the gate in the tall rear wall of their host’s grounds. As prearranged, the three
adventurers started out separately in order to prevent any evil-minded suspicions afterward. Ricci and
Silva met in Water Street by the old man’s front gate, and although they did not like the way the moon
shone down upon the painted stones through the budding branches of the gnarled trees, they had more
important things to think about than mere superstition. They feared it might be unpleasant work making
[35] the Terrible Old Man loquacious concerning his hoarded gold and silver, for aged sea-captains are notably
stubborn and perverse. But Ricci and Silva were experienced in the art of making unwilling people voluble,
and the screams of a weak man can be easily muffled. So they moved up to the one lighted window and
heard the Terrible Old Man talking childishly to his bottles with pendulums. Then they put masks and
knocked politely at the weather-stained oaken door.
[40]    Waiting seemed very long to Mr. Czanek as he fidgeted restlessly in the covered car. He was more
than ordinarily tender-hearted, and he did not like the hideous screams he had heard in the ancient house
just after the hour appointed for the deed. He had told his colleagues to be as gentle as possible with
the pathetic old sea-captain. Very nervously he watched that narrow oaken gate in the high and ivy-clad
stone wall. Frequently he consulted his watch, and wondered at the delay. Had the old man died before
[45] revealing where his treasure was hidden, and had a thorough search become necessary? Mr. Czanek
did not like to wait so long in the dark in such a place. Then he sensed a soft tread or tapping on the walk
inside the gate, heard a gentle fumbling at the rusty latch, and saw the narrow, heavy door swing inward.
And in the pallid glow of the single dim street-lamp he strained his eyes to see what his colleagues had
brought out of that sinister house which loomed so close behind. But when he looked, he did not see what
[50] he had expected; for his colleagues were not there at all, but only the Terrible Old Man leaning quietly on
his knotted cane and smiling hideously. Mr. Czanek had never before noticed the color of that man’s eyes;
now he saw that they were yellow.
    Little things make considerable excitement in little towns, which is the reason that Kingsport people
talked all that spring and summer about the three unidentifiable bodies, horribly slashed and mangled as
[55] by the tread of many cruel boot-heels, which the tide washed in. And some people even spoke of things
as trivial as the deserted car found in Ship Street, or certain especially inhuman cries, probably of a stray
animal or migratory bird, heard in the night by wakeful citizens. But in this idle-village gossip the Terrible
Old Man took no interest at all. He was by nature reserved, and when one is aged and feeble one’s reserve
is doubly strong. Besides, so ancient a sea-captain must have witnessed scores of things much more
[60] stirring in the far-off days of his unremembered youth.

Disponível em: https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/tom.aspx. Acesso em: 22 fev. 2021. (Parcial e adaptado.)

Instrução: A questão refere-se ao texto abaixo.

The Terrible Old Man

by H. P. Lovecraft

[1]    It was the design of Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This
old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both
exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms a situation very attractive to men of the profession
of Ricci, Czanek, and Silva, for that profession was nothing less dignified than robbery

[5]    The inhabitants of Kingsport say and think many things about the Terrible Old Man which generally
keep him safe from the attention of gentlemen like Mr. Ricci and his colleagues, despite the almost certain
fact that he hides a fortune of indefinite magnitude somewhere about his musty and venerable abode. He
is, in truth, a very strange person, believed to have been a captain of East India clipper ships in his day; so
old that no one can remember when he was young, and so taciturn that few know his real name.
[10]    Among the gnarled trees in the front yard of his aged and neglected place he maintains a strange
collection of large stones, oddly grouped and painted so that they resemble the idols in some obscure
Eastern temple. This collection frightens away most of the small boys who love to taunt the Terrible Old
Man about his long white hair and beard, and to break the small-paned windows of his dwelling with
wicked missiles; but there are other things which frighten the older and more curious folks who sometimes
[15] steal up to the house to peer in through the dusty panes. These folks say that on a table in a bare room on
the ground floor are many peculiar bottles, in each a small piece of lead suspended pendulum-wise from
a string. And they say that the Terrible Old Man talks to these bottles, addressing them by such names as
Jack, Scar-Face, Long Tom, Spanish Joe, Peters, and Mate Ellis, and that whenever he speaks to a bottle
the little lead pendulum within makes certain definite vibrations as if in answer. Those who have watched
[20] the tall, lean, Terrible Old Man in these peculiar conversations, do not watch him again.
    However, Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva were not afraid and saw in the Terrible Old
Man merely a tottering, almost helpless greybeard, who could not walk without the aid of his knotted
cane, and whose thin, weak hands shook pitifully. They were really quite sorry in their way for the lonely,
unpopular old fellow, whom everybody shunned, and at whom all the dogs barked singularly. But business
[25] is business, and to a robber whose soul is in his profession, there is a lure and a challenge about a very old
and very feeble man who has no account at the bank, and who pays for his few necessities at the village
store with Spanish gold and silver minted two centuries ago.
     Ricci, Czanek, and Silva selected the night of April 11th for their call. Mr. Ricci and Mr. Silva were to
interview the poor old gentleman, whilst Mr. Czanek waited for them and their presumable metallic burden
[30] with a car in Ship Street, by the gate in the tall rear wall of their host’s grounds. As prearranged, the three
adventurers started out separately in order to prevent any evil-minded suspicions afterward. Ricci and
Silva met in Water Street by the old man’s front gate, and although they did not like the way the moon
shone down upon the painted stones through the budding branches of the gnarled trees, they had more
important things to think about than mere superstition. They feared it might be unpleasant work making
[35] the Terrible Old Man loquacious concerning his hoarded gold and silver, for aged sea-captains are notably
stubborn and perverse. But Ricci and Silva were experienced in the art of making unwilling people voluble,
and the screams of a weak man can be easily muffled. So they moved up to the one lighted window and
heard the Terrible Old Man talking childishly to his bottles with pendulums. Then they put masks and
knocked politely at the weather-stained oaken door.
[40]    Waiting seemed very long to Mr. Czanek as he fidgeted restlessly in the covered car. He was more
than ordinarily tender-hearted, and he did not like the hideous screams he had heard in the ancient house
just after the hour appointed for the deed. He had told his colleagues to be as gentle as possible with
the pathetic old sea-captain. Very nervously he watched that narrow oaken gate in the high and ivy-clad
stone wall. Frequently he consulted his watch, and wondered at the delay. Had the old man died before
[45] revealing where his treasure was hidden, and had a thorough search become necessary? Mr. Czanek
did not like to wait so long in the dark in such a place. Then he sensed a soft tread or tapping on the walk
inside the gate, heard a gentle fumbling at the rusty latch, and saw the narrow, heavy door swing inward.
And in the pallid glow of the single dim street-lamp he strained his eyes to see what his colleagues had
brought out of that sinister house which loomed so close behind. But when he looked, he did not see what
[50] he had expected; for his colleagues were not there at all, but only the Terrible Old Man leaning quietly on
his knotted cane and smiling hideously. Mr. Czanek had never before noticed the color of that man’s eyes;
now he saw that they were yellow.
    Little things make considerable excitement in little towns, which is the reason that Kingsport people
talked all that spring and summer about the three unidentifiable bodies, horribly slashed and mangled as
[55] by the tread of many cruel boot-heels, which the tide washed in. And some people even spoke of things
as trivial as the deserted car found in Ship Street, or certain especially inhuman cries, probably of a stray
animal or migratory bird, heard in the night by wakeful citizens. But in this idle-village gossip the Terrible
Old Man took no interest at all. He was by nature reserved, and when one is aged and feeble one’s reserve
is doubly strong. Besides, so ancient a sea-captain must have witnessed scores of things much more
[60] stirring in the far-off days of his unremembered youth.

Disponível em: https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/tom.aspx. Acesso em: 22 fev. 2021. (Parcial e adaptado.)

Instrução: A questão refere-se ao texto abaixo.

The Terrible Old Man

by H. P. Lovecraft

[1]    It was the design of Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This
old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both
exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms a situation very attractive to men of the profession
of Ricci, Czanek, and Silva, for that profession was nothing less dignified than robbery

[5]    The inhabitants of Kingsport say and think many things about the Terrible Old Man which generally
keep him safe from the attention of gentlemen like Mr. Ricci and his colleagues, despite the almost certain
fact that he hides a fortune of indefinite magnitude somewhere about his musty and venerable abode. He
is, in truth, a very strange person, believed to have been a captain of East India clipper ships in his day; so
old that no one can remember when he was young, and so taciturn that few know his real name.
[10]    Among the gnarled trees in the front yard of his aged and neglected place he maintains a strange
collection of large stones, oddly grouped and painted so that they resemble the idols in some obscure
Eastern temple. This collection frightens away most of the small boys who love to taunt the Terrible Old
Man about his long white hair and beard, and to break the small-paned windows of his dwelling with
wicked missiles; but there are other things which frighten the older and more curious folks who sometimes
[15] steal up to the house to peer in through the dusty panes. These folks say that on a table in a bare room on
the ground floor are many peculiar bottles, in each a small piece of lead suspended pendulum-wise from
a string. And they say that the Terrible Old Man talks to these bottles, addressing them by such names as
Jack, Scar-Face, Long Tom, Spanish Joe, Peters, and Mate Ellis, and that whenever he speaks to a bottle
the little lead pendulum within makes certain definite vibrations as if in answer. Those who have watched
[20] the tall, lean, Terrible Old Man in these peculiar conversations, do not watch him again.
    However, Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva were not afraid and saw in the Terrible Old
Man merely a tottering, almost helpless greybeard, who could not walk without the aid of his knotted
cane, and whose thin, weak hands shook pitifully. They were really quite sorry in their way for the lonely,
unpopular old fellow, whom everybody shunned, and at whom all the dogs barked singularly. But business
[25] is business, and to a robber whose soul is in his profession, there is a lure and a challenge about a very old
and very feeble man who has no account at the bank, and who pays for his few necessities at the village
store with Spanish gold and silver minted two centuries ago.
     Ricci, Czanek, and Silva selected the night of April 11th for their call. Mr. Ricci and Mr. Silva were to
interview the poor old gentleman, whilst Mr. Czanek waited for them and their presumable metallic burden
[30] with a car in Ship Street, by the gate in the tall rear wall of their host’s grounds. As prearranged, the three
adventurers started out separately in order to prevent any evil-minded suspicions afterward. Ricci and
Silva met in Water Street by the old man’s front gate, and although they did not like the way the moon
shone down upon the painted stones through the budding branches of the gnarled trees, they had more
important things to think about than mere superstition. They feared it might be unpleasant work making
[35] the Terrible Old Man loquacious concerning his hoarded gold and silver, for aged sea-captains are notably
stubborn and perverse. But Ricci and Silva were experienced in the art of making unwilling people voluble,
and the screams of a weak man can be easily muffled. So they moved up to the one lighted window and
heard the Terrible Old Man talking childishly to his bottles with pendulums. Then they put masks and
knocked politely at the weather-stained oaken door.
[40]    Waiting seemed very long to Mr. Czanek as he fidgeted restlessly in the covered car. He was more
than ordinarily tender-hearted, and he did not like the hideous screams he had heard in the ancient house
just after the hour appointed for the deed. He had told his colleagues to be as gentle as possible with
the pathetic old sea-captain. Very nervously he watched that narrow oaken gate in the high and ivy-clad
stone wall. Frequently he consulted his watch, and wondered at the delay. Had the old man died before
[45] revealing where his treasure was hidden, and had a thorough search become necessary? Mr. Czanek
did not like to wait so long in the dark in such a place. Then he sensed a soft tread or tapping on the walk
inside the gate, heard a gentle fumbling at the rusty latch, and saw the narrow, heavy door swing inward.
And in the pallid glow of the single dim street-lamp he strained his eyes to see what his colleagues had
brought out of that sinister house which loomed so close behind. But when he looked, he did not see what
[50] he had expected; for his colleagues were not there at all, but only the Terrible Old Man leaning quietly on
his knotted cane and smiling hideously. Mr. Czanek had never before noticed the color of that man’s eyes;
now he saw that they were yellow.
    Little things make considerable excitement in little towns, which is the reason that Kingsport people
talked all that spring and summer about the three unidentifiable bodies, horribly slashed and mangled as
[55] by the tread of many cruel boot-heels, which the tide washed in. And some people even spoke of things
as trivial as the deserted car found in Ship Street, or certain especially inhuman cries, probably of a stray
animal or migratory bird, heard in the night by wakeful citizens. But in this idle-village gossip the Terrible
Old Man took no interest at all. He was by nature reserved, and when one is aged and feeble one’s reserve
is doubly strong. Besides, so ancient a sea-captain must have witnessed scores of things much more
[60] stirring in the far-off days of his unremembered youth.

Disponível em: https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/tom.aspx. Acesso em: 22 fev. 2021. (Parcial e adaptado.)

Instrução: A questão refere-se ao texto abaixo.

The Terrible Old Man

by H. P. Lovecraft

[1]    It was the design of Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This
old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both
exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms a situation very attractive to men of the profession
of Ricci, Czanek, and Silva, for that profession was nothing less dignified than robbery

[5]    The inhabitants of Kingsport say and think many things about the Terrible Old Man which generally
keep him safe from the attention of gentlemen like Mr. Ricci and his colleagues, despite the almost certain
fact that he hides a fortune of indefinite magnitude somewhere about his musty and venerable abode. He
is, in truth, a very strange person, believed to have been a captain of East India clipper ships in his day; so
old that no one can remember when he was young, and so taciturn that few know his real name.
[10]    Among the gnarled trees in the front yard of his aged and neglected place he maintains a strange
collection of large stones, oddly grouped and painted so that they resemble the idols in some obscure
Eastern temple. This collection frightens away most of the small boys who love to taunt the Terrible Old
Man about his long white hair and beard, and to break the small-paned windows of his dwelling with
wicked missiles; but there are other things which frighten the older and more curious folks who sometimes
[15] steal up to the house to peer in through the dusty panes. These folks say that on a table in a bare room on
the ground floor are many peculiar bottles, in each a small piece of lead suspended pendulum-wise from
a string. And they say that the Terrible Old Man talks to these bottles, addressing them by such names as
Jack, Scar-Face, Long Tom, Spanish Joe, Peters, and Mate Ellis, and that whenever he speaks to a bottle
the little lead pendulum within makes certain definite vibrations as if in answer. Those who have watched
[20] the tall, lean, Terrible Old Man in these peculiar conversations, do not watch him again.
    However, Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva were not afraid and saw in the Terrible Old
Man merely a tottering, almost helpless greybeard, who could not walk without the aid of his knotted
cane, and whose thin, weak hands shook pitifully. They were really quite sorry in their way for the lonely,
unpopular old fellow, whom everybody shunned, and at whom all the dogs barked singularly. But business
[25] is business, and to a robber whose soul is in his profession, there is a lure and a challenge about a very old
and very feeble man who has no account at the bank, and who pays for his few necessities at the village
store with Spanish gold and silver minted two centuries ago.
     Ricci, Czanek, and Silva selected the night of April 11th for their call. Mr. Ricci and Mr. Silva were to
interview the poor old gentleman, whilst Mr. Czanek waited for them and their presumable metallic burden
[30] with a car in Ship Street, by the gate in the tall rear wall of their host’s grounds. As prearranged, the three
adventurers started out separately in order to prevent any evil-minded suspicions afterward. Ricci and
Silva met in Water Street by the old man’s front gate, and although they did not like the way the moon
shone down upon the painted stones through the budding branches of the gnarled trees, they had more
important things to think about than mere superstition. They feared it might be unpleasant work making
[35] the Terrible Old Man loquacious concerning his hoarded gold and silver, for aged sea-captains are notably
stubborn and perverse. But Ricci and Silva were experienced in the art of making unwilling people voluble,
and the screams of a weak man can be easily muffled. So they moved up to the one lighted window and
heard the Terrible Old Man talking childishly to his bottles with pendulums. Then they put masks and
knocked politely at the weather-stained oaken door.
[40]    Waiting seemed very long to Mr. Czanek as he fidgeted restlessly in the covered car. He was more
than ordinarily tender-hearted, and he did not like the hideous screams he had heard in the ancient house
just after the hour appointed for the deed. He had told his colleagues to be as gentle as possible with
the pathetic old sea-captain. Very nervously he watched that narrow oaken gate in the high and ivy-clad
stone wall. Frequently he consulted his watch, and wondered at the delay. Had the old man died before
[45] revealing where his treasure was hidden, and had a thorough search become necessary? Mr. Czanek
did not like to wait so long in the dark in such a place. Then he sensed a soft tread or tapping on the walk
inside the gate, heard a gentle fumbling at the rusty latch, and saw the narrow, heavy door swing inward.
And in the pallid glow of the single dim street-lamp he strained his eyes to see what his colleagues had
brought out of that sinister house which loomed so close behind. But when he looked, he did not see what
[50] he had expected; for his colleagues were not there at all, but only the Terrible Old Man leaning quietly on
his knotted cane and smiling hideously. Mr. Czanek had never before noticed the color of that man’s eyes;
now he saw that they were yellow.
    Little things make considerable excitement in little towns, which is the reason that Kingsport people
talked all that spring and summer about the three unidentifiable bodies, horribly slashed and mangled as
[55] by the tread of many cruel boot-heels, which the tide washed in. And some people even spoke of things
as trivial as the deserted car found in Ship Street, or certain especially inhuman cries, probably of a stray
animal or migratory bird, heard in the night by wakeful citizens. But in this idle-village gossip the Terrible
Old Man took no interest at all. He was by nature reserved, and when one is aged and feeble one’s reserve
is doubly strong. Besides, so ancient a sea-captain must have witnessed scores of things much more
[60] stirring in the far-off days of his unremembered youth.

Disponível em: https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/tom.aspx. Acesso em: 22 fev. 2021. (Parcial e adaptado.)

Instrução: A questão refere-se ao texto abaixo.

The Terrible Old Man

by H. P. Lovecraft

[1]    It was the design of Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This
old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both
exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms a situation very attractive to men of the profession
of Ricci, Czanek, and Silva, for that profession was nothing less dignified than robbery

[5]    The inhabitants of Kingsport say and think many things about the Terrible Old Man which generally
keep him safe from the attention of gentlemen like Mr. Ricci and his colleagues, despite the almost certain
fact that he hides a fortune of indefinite magnitude somewhere about his musty and venerable abode. He
is, in truth, a very strange person, believed to have been a captain of East India clipper ships in his day; so
old that no one can remember when he was young, and so taciturn that few know his real name.
[10]    Among the gnarled trees in the front yard of his aged and neglected place he maintains a strange
collection of large stones, oddly grouped and painted so that they resemble the idols in some obscure
Eastern temple. This collection frightens away most of the small boys who love to taunt the Terrible Old
Man about his long white hair and beard, and to break the small-paned windows of his dwelling with
wicked missiles; but there are other things which frighten the older and more curious folks who sometimes
[15] steal up to the house to peer in through the dusty panes. These folks say that on a table in a bare room on
the ground floor are many peculiar bottles, in each a small piece of lead suspended pendulum-wise from
a string. And they say that the Terrible Old Man talks to these bottles, addressing them by such names as
Jack, Scar-Face, Long Tom, Spanish Joe, Peters, and Mate Ellis, and that whenever he speaks to a bottle
the little lead pendulum within makes certain definite vibrations as if in answer. Those who have watched
[20] the tall, lean, Terrible Old Man in these peculiar conversations, do not watch him again.
    However, Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva were not afraid and saw in the Terrible Old
Man merely a tottering, almost helpless greybeard, who could not walk without the aid of his knotted
cane, and whose thin, weak hands shook pitifully. They were really quite sorry in their way for the lonely,
unpopular old fellow, whom everybody shunned, and at whom all the dogs barked singularly. But business
[25] is business, and to a robber whose soul is in his profession, there is a lure and a challenge about a very old
and very feeble man who has no account at the bank, and who pays for his few necessities at the village
store with Spanish gold and silver minted two centuries ago.
     Ricci, Czanek, and Silva selected the night of April 11th for their call. Mr. Ricci and Mr. Silva were to
interview the poor old gentleman, whilst Mr. Czanek waited for them and their presumable metallic burden
[30] with a car in Ship Street, by the gate in the tall rear wall of their host’s grounds. As prearranged, the three
adventurers started out separately in order to prevent any evil-minded suspicions afterward. Ricci and
Silva met in Water Street by the old man’s front gate, and although they did not like the way the moon
shone down upon the painted stones through the budding branches of the gnarled trees, they had more
important things to think about than mere superstition. They feared it might be unpleasant work making
[35] the Terrible Old Man loquacious concerning his hoarded gold and silver, for aged sea-captains are notably
stubborn and perverse. But Ricci and Silva were experienced in the art of making unwilling people voluble,
and the screams of a weak man can be easily muffled. So they moved up to the one lighted window and
heard the Terrible Old Man talking childishly to his bottles with pendulums. Then they put masks and
knocked politely at the weather-stained oaken door.
[40]    Waiting seemed very long to Mr. Czanek as he fidgeted restlessly in the covered car. He was more
than ordinarily tender-hearted, and he did not like the hideous screams he had heard in the ancient house
just after the hour appointed for the deed. He had told his colleagues to be as gentle as possible with
the pathetic old sea-captain. Very nervously he watched that narrow oaken gate in the high and ivy-clad
stone wall. Frequently he consulted his watch, and wondered at the delay. Had the old man died before
[45] revealing where his treasure was hidden, and had a thorough search become necessary? Mr. Czanek
did not like to wait so long in the dark in such a place. Then he sensed a soft tread or tapping on the walk
inside the gate, heard a gentle fumbling at the rusty latch, and saw the narrow, heavy door swing inward.
And in the pallid glow of the single dim street-lamp he strained his eyes to see what his colleagues had
brought out of that sinister house which loomed so close behind. But when he looked, he did not see what
[50] he had expected; for his colleagues were not there at all, but only the Terrible Old Man leaning quietly on
his knotted cane and smiling hideously. Mr. Czanek had never before noticed the color of that man’s eyes;
now he saw that they were yellow.
    Little things make considerable excitement in little towns, which is the reason that Kingsport people
talked all that spring and summer about the three unidentifiable bodies, horribly slashed and mangled as
[55] by the tread of many cruel boot-heels, which the tide washed in. And some people even spoke of things
as trivial as the deserted car found in Ship Street, or certain especially inhuman cries, probably of a stray
animal or migratory bird, heard in the night by wakeful citizens. But in this idle-village gossip the Terrible
Old Man took no interest at all. He was by nature reserved, and when one is aged and feeble one’s reserve
is doubly strong. Besides, so ancient a sea-captain must have witnessed scores of things much more
[60] stirring in the far-off days of his unremembered youth.

Disponível em: https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/tom.aspx. Acesso em: 22 fev. 2021. (Parcial e adaptado.)

Instrução: A questão refere-se ao texto abaixo.

The Terrible Old Man

by H. P. Lovecraft

[1]    It was the design of Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva to call on the Terrible Old Man. This
old man dwells all alone in a very ancient house on Water Street near the sea, and is reputed to be both
exceedingly rich and exceedingly feeble; which forms a situation very attractive to men of the profession
of Ricci, Czanek, and Silva, for that profession was nothing less dignified than robbery

[5]    The inhabitants of Kingsport say and think many things about the Terrible Old Man which generally
keep him safe from the attention of gentlemen like Mr. Ricci and his colleagues, despite the almost certain
fact that he hides a fortune of indefinite magnitude somewhere about his musty and venerable abode. He
is, in truth, a very strange person, believed to have been a captain of East India clipper ships in his day; so
old that no one can remember when he was young, and so taciturn that few know his real name.
[10]    Among the gnarled trees in the front yard of his aged and neglected place he maintains a strange
collection of large stones, oddly grouped and painted so that they resemble the idols in some obscure
Eastern temple. This collection frightens away most of the small boys who love to taunt the Terrible Old
Man about his long white hair and beard, and to break the small-paned windows of his dwelling with
wicked missiles; but there are other things which frighten the older and more curious folks who sometimes
[15] steal up to the house to peer in through the dusty panes. These folks say that on a table in a bare room on
the ground floor are many peculiar bottles, in each a small piece of lead suspended pendulum-wise from
a string. And they say that the Terrible Old Man talks to these bottles, addressing them by such names as
Jack, Scar-Face, Long Tom, Spanish Joe, Peters, and Mate Ellis, and that whenever he speaks to a bottle
the little lead pendulum within makes certain definite vibrations as if in answer. Those who have watched
[20] the tall, lean, Terrible Old Man in these peculiar conversations, do not watch him again.
    However, Angelo Ricci, Joe Czanek and Manuel Silva were not afraid and saw in the Terrible Old
Man merely a tottering, almost helpless greybeard, who could not walk without the aid of his knotted
cane, and whose thin, weak hands shook pitifully. They were really quite sorry in their way for the lonely,
unpopular old fellow, whom everybody shunned, and at whom all the dogs barked singularly. But business
[25] is business, and to a robber whose soul is in his profession, there is a lure and a challenge about a very old
and very feeble man who has no account at the bank, and who pays for his few necessities at the village
store with Spanish gold and silver minted two centuries ago.
     Ricci, Czanek, and Silva selected the night of April 11th for their call. Mr. Ricci and Mr. Silva were to
interview the poor old gentleman, whilst Mr. Czanek waited for them and their presumable metallic burden
[30] with a car in Ship Street, by the gate in the tall rear wall of their host’s grounds. As prearranged, the three
adventurers started out separately in order to prevent any evil-minded suspicions afterward. Ricci and
Silva met in Water Street by the old man’s front gate, and although they did not like the way the moon
shone down upon the painted stones through the budding branches of the gnarled trees, they had more
important things to think about than mere superstition. They feared it might be unpleasant work making
[35] the Terrible Old Man loquacious concerning his hoarded gold and silver, for aged sea-captains are notably
stubborn and perverse. But Ricci and Silva were experienced in the art of making unwilling people voluble,
and the screams of a weak man can be easily muffled. So they moved up to the one lighted window and
heard the Terrible Old Man talking childishly to his bottles with pendulums. Then they put masks and
knocked politely at the weather-stained oaken door.
[40]    Waiting seemed very long to Mr. Czanek as he fidgeted restlessly in the covered car. He was more
than ordinarily tender-hearted, and he did not like the hideous screams he had heard in the ancient house
just after the hour appointed for the deed. He had told his colleagues to be as gentle as possible with
the pathetic old sea-captain. Very nervously he watched that narrow oaken gate in the high and ivy-clad
stone wall. Frequently he consulted his watch, and wondered at the delay. Had the old man died before
[45] revealing where his treasure was hidden, and had a thorough search become necessary? Mr. Czanek
did not like to wait so long in the dark in such a place. Then he sensed a soft tread or tapping on the walk
inside the gate, heard a gentle fumbling at the rusty latch, and saw the narrow, heavy door swing inward.
And in the pallid glow of the single dim street-lamp he strained his eyes to see what his colleagues had
brought out of that sinister house which loomed so close behind. But when he looked, he did not see what
[50] he had expected; for his colleagues were not there at all, but only the Terrible Old Man leaning quietly on
his knotted cane and smiling hideously. Mr. Czanek had never before noticed the color of that man’s eyes;
now he saw that they were yellow.
    Little things make considerable excitement in little towns, which is the reason that Kingsport people
talked all that spring and summer about the three unidentifiable bodies, horribly slashed and mangled as
[55] by the tread of many cruel boot-heels, which the tide washed in. And some people even spoke of things
as trivial as the deserted car found in Ship Street, or certain especially inhuman cries, probably of a stray
animal or migratory bird, heard in the night by wakeful citizens. But in this idle-village gossip the Terrible
Old Man took no interest at all. He was by nature reserved, and when one is aged and feeble one’s reserve
is doubly strong. Besides, so ancient a sea-captain must have witnessed scores of things much more
[60] stirring in the far-off days of his unremembered youth.

Disponível em: https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/tom.aspx. Acesso em: 22 fev. 2021. (Parcial e adaptado.)