Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe

Home > Other > Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe > Page 54
Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe Page 54

by Volume 01-05 (lit)


  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 on 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," said he.

  "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 eyes 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 Luchesi --"

  "Enough," he said ; "the cough is 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 walls of piled

  bones, 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 flaçon of De Grâve. 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.

  "It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the

  folds of my _roquelaire_.

  "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 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 recess, in depth about four feet, in

  width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been

  constructed for no especial use in 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,

  endeavored to pry into the depths of the recess. Its termination the

  feeble light 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 stepped

  unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In 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 my 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 labors 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 clamored. I re-echoed - I aided - I

  surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the

  clamorer 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

  recognising as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said -

  "Ha ! ha ! ha ! - 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, Montressor !_"

  "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 - on account of the dampness of the

  catacombs. I hastened to make an end of my labor. 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 !_

  ~~~ End of Text ~~~

  ======

  THE IMP OF THE PERVERSE

  IN THE consideration of the faculties and impulses -- of the prima

  mobilia of the human soul, the phrenologists have failed to make room

  for a propensity which, although obviously existing as a radical,

  primitive, irreducible sentiment, has been equally overlooked by all

  the moralists who have preceded them. In the pure arrogance of the

  reason, we have all overlooked it. We have suffered its existence to

  escape our senses, solely through want of belief -- of faith; --

  whether it be faith in Revelation, or faith in the Kabbala. The idea

  of it has never occurred to us, simply because of its supererogation.

  We saw no need of the impulse -- for the propensity. We could not

  perceive its necessity. We could not understand, that is to say, we

  could not have understood, had the notion of this primum mobile ever

  obtruded itself; -- we could not have understood in what manner it

  might be made to further the objects of humanity, either temporal or

  eternal. It cannot be denied that phrenology and, in great measure,

  all metaphysicianism have been concocted a priori. The intellectual

  or logical man, rather than the understanding or observant man, set

  himself to imagine designs -- to dictate purposes to God. Having thus

  fathomed, to his satisfaction, the intentions of Jehovah, out of

  these intentions he built his innumerable systems of mind. In the

  matter of phrenology, for example, we first determined, naturally

  enough, that it was the design of the Deity that man should eat. We

  then assigned to man an organ of alimentiveness, and this organ is

  the scourge with which the Deity compels man, will-I nill-I, into

  eating. Secondly, having settled it to be God's will that man should

  continue his species, we discovered an organ of amativeness,

  forthwith. And so with combativeness, with ideality, with causality,

  with constructiveness, -- so, in short, with every organ, whether

  representing a propensity, a moral sentiment, or a faculty of the

  pure intellect. And in these arrangements of the Principia of human

  action, the Spurzheimites, whether right or wrong, in part, or upon

  the whole, have but followed, in principle, the footsteps of their

  predecessors: deducing and establishing every thing from the

  preconceived destiny of man, and upon the ground of the objects of

  his Creator.

  It would have been wiser, it would have been safer, to classify (if

  classify we must) upon the basis of what man usually or occasionally

  did, and was always occasionally doing, rather than upon the basis of

  what we took it for granted the Deity intended him to do. If we

  cannot comprehend God in his visible works, how then in his

  inconceivable thoughts, that call the works into being? If we cannot

  understand him in his objective creatures, how then in his

 

‹ Prev