"Fortunato was a strong man, a man to be feared. But he had one great weakness: he liked to drink good wine, and indeed he drank much of it"
“Ho! — Come. Let us go.” “Go where?” “To your vaults. To taste the wine.”
“Here, Fortunato. Drink some of this fine Medoc. It will help tokeep us warm. Drink!” “Thank you, my friend. I drink to the dead who lie sleepingaround us.” “And I, Fortunato — I drink to your long life.”
A short chain was hanging from one of these and a lock from the other. Before Fortunato could guess what was happening, I closed the lock and chained him tightly to the wall. I stepped back
As I spoke these words I began to search among the bones.Throwing them to one side I found the stones which earlier I had taken down from the wall. Quickly I began to build the wall again, covering the hole where Fortunato stood trembling. “Montresor! What are you doing!?”
I heard no answer. “Fortunato!” I cried. “Fortunato.” I heard only a soft, low sound, a half-cry of fear. My heart grew sick; it must have been the cold.