The Cask of Amontillado
By bhageman, Updated
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“My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking today! But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts.”
“How? Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!”
There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in honor 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.
“For the love of God, Montresor!”
“Pass your hand, over the wall; you cannot help feeling the niter. 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.”
There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick—on account of the dampness of the catacombs.
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