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The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could; butwhen he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so wellknow the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gaveutterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was apoint definitely settled--but the very definitiveness with which itwas resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish,but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retributionovertakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avengerfails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I givenFortunato cause to doubt my good-will. I continued, as was my wont,to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile now wasat the thought of his immolation.

He had a weak point--this Fortunato--although in other regards hewas a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on hisconnoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuosospirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit thetime and opportunity--to practise imposture upon the British andAustrian millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like hiscountrymen, was a quack--but in the matter of old wines he wassincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially: Iwas skillful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largelywhenever I could.

It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of thecarnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me withexcessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man woremotley. He had on a tight-fitting party-striped dress, and his headwas surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased tosee him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.

I said to him: "My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. Howremarkably well you are looking to-day! But I have received a pipeof what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."

"How?" said he. "Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible! And in the middleof the carnival!"

"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay thefull Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. Youwere not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."

"Amontillado!"

"I have my doubts."

"Amontillado!"

"And I must satisfy them."

"Amontillado!"

"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi. If any one has acritical turn, it is he. He will tell me-- "

"Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."

"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for yourown."

"Come, let us go."

"Whither?"

"To your vaults."

"My friend, no. I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceiveyou have an engagement. Luchesi--"

"I have no engagement--come."

"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold withwhich I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferablydamp, They are encrusted with nitre."

"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado!You have been imposed upon. And as for Luchesi, he cannotdistinguish Sherry from Amontillado."

Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm. Putting on amask of black silk, and drawing a roquelaure closely about myperson, I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.

There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merryin honour of the time. I had told them that I should not returnuntil the morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stirfrom the house. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, toinsure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as myback was turned.

I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one toFortunato, bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archwaythat led into the vaults. I passed down a long and windingstaircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came atlength to the foot of the descent, and stood together on the dampground of the catacombs of the Montresors.

The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his capjingled as he strode.

"The pipe," said he.

"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white webwork whichgleams from these cavern walls."

He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbsthat distilled the rheum of intoxication.

"Nitre?" he asked, at length.

"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"

"Ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!ugh! ugh! ugh!"

My poor friend found it impossible to reply. for many minutes.

"It is nothing," he said at last.

"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health isprecious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy,as once I was. You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter.We will go back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible.Besides, there is Luchesi--"

"Enough," he said: "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not killme. I shall not die of a cough."

"True--true." I replied; "and indeed, I had no intention ofalarming you unnecessarily--but you should use all proper caution.A draught of this Medoc will defend us from the damps."

Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a longrow of its fellows that lay upon the mould.

"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.

He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to mefamiliarly, while his bells jingled.

"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."

"And I to your long life."

He again took my arm, and we proceeded.

"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."

"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."

"I forget your arms."

"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes aserpent rampant whose fangs are embedded in the heel."

"And the motto?"

"Nemo me impune lacessit."

"Good!" he said.

The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancygrew warm with the Medoc. We had passed through walls of piledbones, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmostrecesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I madebold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.

"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases. It hangs like moss uponthe vaults. We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisturetrickle among the bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late.Your cough-- "

"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another draughtof the Medoc."

I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grâve. He emptied it at abreath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed, and threwthe bottle upward with a gesticulation I did not understand.

I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement--a grotesqueone.

"You do not comprehend?" he said.

"Not I," I replied.

"Then you are not of the brotherhood."

"How?"

"You are not of the masons."

"Yes, yes," I said, "yes, yes."

"You? Impossible! A mason?"

"A mason," I replied.

"A sign," he said.

"It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the foldsof my roquelaure.

"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let usproceed to the Amontillado."

"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak, and againoffering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued ourroute in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range oflow arches, descended, passed on, and, descending again, arrived ata deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeauxrather to glow than flame.

At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another lessspacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to thevault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris.Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in thismanner. From the fourth the bones had been thrown down, and laypromiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of somesize. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the boneswe perceived a still interior recess, in depth about four feet, inwidth three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have beenconstructed for no especial use within itself, but formed merelythe interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof ofthe catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing wallsof solid granite.

It was in vain that Fortunate, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoredto pry into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeblelight did not enable us to see.

"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchesi--"

"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he steppedunsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. Inan instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and findinghis progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. Amoment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surfacewere two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet,horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from theother a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but thework of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded toresist. Withdrawing the key, I stepped back from the recess.

"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feelingthe nitre. Indeed it is very damp. Once more let me implore you toreturn. No? Then I must positively leave you. But I must firstrender you all the little attentions in my power."

"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from hisastonishment.

"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."

As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones ofwhich I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovereda quantity of building-stone and mortar. With these materials andwith the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up theentrance of the niche.

I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discoveredthat the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off.The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry fromthe depth of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken man. Therewas then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, andthe third, and the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrationsof the chain. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which,that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased mylabours and sat down upon the bones. When at last the clankingsubsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruptionthe fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearlyupon a level with my breast. I again paused, and holding theflambeaux over the masonwork, threw a few feeble rays upon thefigure within.

A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from thethroat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. Fora brief moment I hesitated--I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, Ibegan to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of aninstant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of thecatacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall. I repliedto the yells of him who clamoured. I reëchoed--I aided--I surpassedthem in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grewstill.

It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I hadcompleted the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tier. I had finisheda portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a singlestone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight;I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there camefrom out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head.It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty inrecognising as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said:

"Ha! ha! ha!--he! he! he!--a very good joke indeed--an excellentjest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo--he!he! he!--over our wine--he! he! he!"

"The Amontillado!" I said.

"He! he! he!--he! he! he!--yes, the Amontillado. But is it notgetting late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo--the LadyFortunato and the rest? Let us be gone."

"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."

"For the love of God, Montresor!"

"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"

But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grewimpatient. I called aloud:

"Fortunato!"

No answer. I called again:

"Fortunato!"

No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining apertureand let it fall within. There came forth in return only a jinglingof the bells. My heart grew sick--on account of the dampness of thecatacombs. I hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced thelast stone into its position; I plastered it up. Against the newmasonry I reërected the old rampart of bones. For the half of acentury no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat.