"Edgar Allan Poe - The Raven, The Masque of the Red Death, and The Cask of Amontillado" - читать интересную книгу автора (Poe Edgar Allan)

"Amontillado!"

"And I must satisfy them."

"Amontillado!"

"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi. If any one
has a critical turn, it is he. He will tell me--"

"Luchesi 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. Luchesi--"

"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 Luchesi, he
cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado."

Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm.
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 on
the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.