                                      1846

                            THE CASK OF AMONTILLADO

                               by Edgar Allan Poe



  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!



                         -THE END-

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