The Cask of Amontillado
THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as
I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge.
You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose,
however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be
avenged; this was a point definitely, settled --but the very
definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of
risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is
unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is
equally unredressed when the avenger fails 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 given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued,
as was my in to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that
my to smile now was at the thought of his immolation.
He had a weak point --this Fortunato --although in
other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared. He
prided himself on his connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have
the true virtuoso spirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is
adopted to suit the time and opportunity, to practise imposture
upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and
gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen, was a quack, but in the
matter of old wines he was sincere. In this respect I did not
differ from him materially; --I was skilful in the Italian
vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme
madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He
accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much.
The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped
dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells.
I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have
done wringing his hand.
I said to him --"My dear Fortunato, you are
luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking to-day. But I
have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have
my doubts."
"How?" said he. "Amontillado, A pipe?
Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!"
"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I
was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without
consulting you in the matter. You were 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
Luchresi. If any one has a critical turn it is he. He will tell
me --"
"Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from
Sherry."
"And yet some fools will have it that his taste
is a match for your own.
"Come, let us go."
"Whither?"
"To your vaults."
"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your
good nature. I perceive you have an engagement. Luchresi--"
"I have no engagement; --come."
"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but
the severe cold with which I perceive you are afflicted. The
vaults are insufferably damp. They are encrusted with
nitre."
"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely
nothing. Amontillado! You have been imposed upon. And as for
Luchresi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado."
Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my
arm; and putting on a mask of black silk and drawing a roquelaire
closely about my person, I suffered him to hurry me to my
palazzo.
There were no attendants at home; they had absconded
to make merry in honour of the time. I had told them that I
should not return until the morning, and had given them explicit
orders not to stir from the house. These orders were sufficient,
I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and
all, as soon as my back was turned.
I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving
one to Fortunato, bowed him through several suites of rooms to
the archway that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and
winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed.
We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together
upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.
The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells
upon his cap jingled as he strode.
"The pipe," he said.
"It is farther on," said I; "but
observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern
walls."
He turned towards me, and looked into my eves with
two filmy orbs that 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 is precious. 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 Luchresi
--"
"Enough," he said; "the cough's a
mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a
cough."
"True --true," I replied; "and,
indeed, I had no intention of alarming 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 long row 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 me familiarly, 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 a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded 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 fancy grew warm with the Medoc. We had passed through long
walls of piled skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling,
into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and
this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the
elbow.
"The nitre!" I said; "see, it
increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults. We are below the
river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle 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 draught of the Medoc."
I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He
emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He
laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did
not understand.
I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the
movement --a grotesque one.
"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, "a sign."
"It is this," I answered, producing from
beneath the folds of my roquelaire a trowel.
"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few
paces. "But let us proceed to the Amontillado."
"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool
beneath the cloak and again offering him my arm. He leaned upon
it heavily. We continued our route in search of the Amontillado.
We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on,
and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the
foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than
flame.
At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared
another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human
remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great
catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still
ornamented in this manner. From the fourth side the bones had
been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming
at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed
by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior
crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in
height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no
especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval
between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the
catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of
solid granite.
It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull
torch, endeavoured to pry into the depth of the recess. Its
termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.
"Proceed," I said; "herein is the
Amontillado. As for Luchresi --"
"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my
friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed
immediately at his heels. In niche, and finding an instant he had
reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress
arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more
and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two
iron staples, distant from each other about two feet,
horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the
other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but
the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded
to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.
"Pass your hand," I said, "over the
wall; you cannot help feeling the nitre. Indeed, it is very damp.
Once more let me implore you to return. No? Then I must
positively leave you. But I must first render you all the little
attentions in my power."
"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend,
not yet recovered from his astonishment.
"True," I replied; "the
Amontillado."
As I said these words I busied myself among the pile
of bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I
soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar. With
these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously
to wall up the entrance of the niche.
I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry
when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a
great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was
a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess. It was not the
cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate
silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth;
and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise
lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to
it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down
upon the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the
trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth,
and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with
my breast. I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over the
mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.
A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting
suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me
violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled.
Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it about the recess;
but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon
the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I
reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of him who
clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and
in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a
close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier.
I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh; there
remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I
struggled with its weight; I placed it partially in its destined
position. But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that
erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice,
which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of the noble
Fortunato. The voice said--
"Ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --a very good joke,
indeed --an excellent jest. 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 not getting late? Will not they be
awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato 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 grew impatient. I called aloud --
"Fortunato!"
No answer. I called again --
"Fortunato!"
No answer still. I thrust a torch through the
remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in
return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick; it was
the dampness of the catacombs that made it so. I hastened to make
an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into its position; I
plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old
rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has
disturbed them. In pace requiescat!