This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1905 edition. Excerpt: ... fangs are imbedded in the heel." "And the motto?" "Nemo me impune lacessit."1 " 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 ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1905 edition. Excerpt: ... fangs are imbedded in the heel." "And the motto?" "Nemo me impune lacessit."1 " 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 1 No one injures me with impunity. 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."1 " 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...
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