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

"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 un-
covered 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 the 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 labours 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 clamoured. I re-echoed-- I aided--
I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the
clamourer 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 recognizing as that of the noble Fortunato. The
voice said--