Chapter 17 barrel of white wine

Fortunato hurt me in every possible way, and I tried my best to swallow it, but if he dared to insult me, I would swear revenge.You are familiar with my temperament, and you will never think that I just say something to scare people.One day I will have my revenge.The idea was rock solid.Now that the idea has been made, I don't think there will be danger.I want to let him suffer enough, and not leave any trouble.Those who take revenge will get retribution, and this account is not settled; revenge but not letting the enemy know who killed him, this account is also not settled. You know, nothing I said or did made Fortunato suspect that I had bad intentions.I still greet him with a smile on my face.He didn't realize that now I'm hiding a knife in my smile, and I want to kill him.

Fortunato was respected, even feared, in other respects, but he had one weakness, the elation of being a master wine connoisseur.Few of the Italians are serious connoisseurs.Most of their zeal was for improvisation, to defraud the great tycoons of England and Austria.When it comes to paintings and jewellery, Fortunato, like his compatriots, is only rhetorical, but when it comes to aged wine he is not pretentious.I'm more or less the same as he is on this point - I'm also an expert on Italian wines and always buy in bulk whenever possible. I ran into this friend at twilight on a raucous carnival night.Because he had been drinking too much, he struck up a conversation with me with great enthusiasm.The guy is dressed as a clown in a mottled striped bodysuit and a conical hat with bells attached to it.I was very happy to see him, and I couldn't help but want to hold his hand and hold on for a long time.

I said to him, "My dear Fortunato, it's a pleasure to meet you. You look very well today. I've got a big barrel of white wine, but I'm not sure." "What?" he said. "White wine? A barrel? Impossible! Where can I get it during Carnival?" "That's why I'm worried," I replied, "I'm a damn fool to pay all the money without asking you for advice. I can't find you, but I'm afraid I'll miss a deal." "White wine!" "I'm worried." "White wine!" "I must figure it out!"

"White wine!" "Since you have something to do, I'll go to Lucresh. Only he can find out. He'll tell me..." "Lucresi can't tell white wine from sherry." "But some fools say he has as much taste as you do." "Quick, let's go." "Where are you going?" "To your cellar." "That won't do, old man. I can't trouble you just because you're kind. I can tell you've got something to do. Lucrecy..." "I'm fine. Let's go." "Not really, old man. It doesn't matter if it's all right or not, but it's damn cold, and I don't think you can bear it. The cellar is dank. There's saltpeter all around."

"Better go. Cold doesn't matter. The white wine matters. You're being fooled. As for Lucrecy, he can't tell the difference between sherry and white wine." Saying that, Fortunato took my arm.I put on a black silk mask, wrapped my short cloak tightly, and let him urge me to go home. There was not a single servant in the house, and they all slipped out to celebrate the festive season.I told them I wouldn't be back until the next morning.I also clearly ordered them not to go out for half a step.I understand very well that such an instruction is enough to make them disappear one by one as soon as I turn around.

I took two torches from the candlesticks, and gave one to Fortunato.I respectfully invite him to move forward.After passing through several suites, we come to the arcade leading to the cellar.I walked down a long winding staircase and told Futunato who was following me to be more careful. After finally descending the stairs, the two of us stood side by side on the wet ground in the catacombs of the Monterisso mansion. My friend staggered, and the bell on his hat jingled whenever he took a stride. "What about the barrel of wine?" he said. "Ahead," I said, "watch out for the flickering white cobwebs on the cave wall."

He turned to me, staring at me with gleams in his drunken eyes. "Nitre?" he asked at last. "Nitre," I replied, "how long have you been coughing?" "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!—Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!—Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!—Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!—Ugh! ! Ugh!" My poor friend was so coughing that he couldn't speak for a long time. "Nothing," he said finally. "Hi!" I said resolutely, "let's go back. Your body is important. You are rich, everyone respects and admires you, and you are popular; you are as happy as I was before. If you have troubles, no one can stand them. I It doesn't matter anyway. Let's go back, I can't afford you to be sick. Besides, there is Lucrecy..."

"Come on," he said, "what's the matter with coughing, and it won't kill you. I won't cough to death." "Yes, yes," I replied, "I really didn't mean to scare you, it's not necessary, but you must be careful. Warm yourself up with some Medoc, it's so damp. As soon as I finished speaking, I took a bottle from the long row of wine bottles on the dirt floor and smashed the neck of it. "Drink," I said, handing him the drink. He glanced at me and lifted the bottle to his lips.He stopped, nodded kindly to me, and the bell on his hat jingled.

"Here's to those around you who are buried in the ground," he said. "Cheers to your long life." He hung on my arm again.Let's move on. "What a big cellar," he said. "Monterisso is a big family with a large population," I replied. "I forgot what the badge of your residence is." "A gigantic human foot, golden, against a blue background. The foot crushed a great writhing snake. The snake's fangs went into the heel." "The motto of your mansion is...?" "Whoever hurts me will be severely punished."

"Wonderful!" he said. His eyes sparkled when he drank, and the bell on his hat jingled again.After drinking Medoc, I became more cranky.We walked through the long lanes of piles of bones and casks, large and small, into the most secret places of the catacombs.I stand again.This time, I boldly grabbed Fortunato's upper arm. "Nitre!" I said. "Look, there's more and more. Hanging like moss on the vault. We're under the bed of the river. We're dripping into the bones. Come on, let's go back early. You cough . . . " "Nothing," he said, "move on. But let me have a couple of Medocs first."

I unwrapped the glav from the pot-bellied bottle and handed it to him.He drank it all in one gulp, and his eyes lit up immediately.He laughed and threw the bottle up, and made a gesture, which I didn't understand. I looked at him in surprise.He made the gesture again--a curious gesture. "You don't understand?" he said. "I don't understand," I replied. "Then you are not the same way." "how to say?" "You are not a Freemason." "I am, I am," I said, "I am, I am." "You? Impossible! Are you?" "Yes." I replied. "A code," he said, "a code." "This is it," I answered, drawing a mason's trowel from under the folds of my cloak. "Just kidding," he exclaimed, taking a few steps back. "Let's go ahead and look at the white wine." "Okay," I said.I put the trowel back under the cloak, and held out my arm for him again.He leaned heavily on my arm.In this way, we continued to move forward, to find white wine.Through a row of low arcades, down, straight, down again, we came to a deep crypt.The air here is extremely dirty, the flames of the torches have been extinguished, and they can only burn faintly. At the farthest end of the crypt, there was a narrower crypt, the walls of which were lined with rows of bones, piled up to the vault above the head, like the Catacombs in Paris.The three walls are full of corpses like this.There is also a wall where the bones have fallen, and they are piled up on the ground, forming a rather large pile of bones.The wall where the bones fell was exposed.Inside, we discovered, was a crypt, or alcove.It was about four feet deep, three feet wide, and six or seven feet high.It seems that it had no special purpose when it was built, but it was just a gap between the two pillars supporting the top of the catacomb. Instead, it was backed against a solid granite wall and opened up on one of the walls of the catacomb. Fortunato held up the dim torch and tried his best to peer into the depths of the alcove, but it was in vain because the light of the fire was so weak that it could not see the bottom at all. "Go ahead," I said, "the white wine is in here. As for Lucrecy..." "He's a sham," my friend interrupted me, staggering on.I followed closely behind his ass.In the blink of an eye, he was at the innermost alcove.Seeing that the road ahead was blocked by rocks, he stood there dumbfounded.In a few moments I had him handcuffed to the granite.On the granite wall were two iron rings, spaced about two feet apart, on one ring hung a short chain, and on the other a padlock.Within seconds, I had him chained around his waist.He was so terrified that he forgot to resist.I pulled the key and exited the alcove. "Put your hand up against the wall," I said, "and you'll be able to touch the saltpeter in no time. It's really wet. I beg you again, will you go back? No? Then I must leave you. Before I go, I must Let me take care of you as best I can.” My friend, still in shock, cried out, "White wine!" "That's right," I replied, "white wine." With that said, I busied myself among the bones.I mentioned the pile of bones above.I put the bones aside, and soon I picked up a lot of stone and mortar for the wall.With these materials and the trowel, I set about erecting the wall at the entrance of the alcove with vigor. Before the first floor was finished, I noticed that Fortunato's drunkenness had almost disappeared.The reason for saying this is because there was a faint groan from the depths of the alcove.That's a sign of his sobriety.The groan didn't sound like it was coming from a drunk. Immediately, there was a long period of high silence.I built the second layer, the third layer, the fourth layer.Then I heard the sound of frantically shaking the chain, which lasted for several minutes.In order to listen more comfortably, I simply stopped what I was doing and sat down on the bones. When the jingling finally subsided, I picked up the trowel again and built the fifth, sixth, and seventh floors in one go.The wall was now almost at chest height.I paused again, and held the torch over the stone wall.A few lines of faint flames shone on the figure inside. Suddenly, the chained figure erupted into a high-pitched scream, as if desperately trying to scare me away.For a moment, I hesitated, trembling all over, but immediately drew out the long sword and began to use it to grope in the alcove; but after a second thought, I was relieved again.The tomb was solidly constructed, and I put my hand on it to my satisfaction.I approached the wall again, and the locked man yelled, and I yelled too.He called out, and I responded, louder than him, and more confident.When I called out, the locked-up person became dumb. It's midnight and I'm almost done.The eighth, ninth, and tenth floors are all finished.The last layer, the eleventh, was almost done, and it was only necessary to fill in the last stone and apply the last coat of plaster.I struggled to lift the last rock and put the corner of it where it should be.Unexpectedly, there was a low-pitched laughter from the alcove, which made my hair stand on end. After the laughter, there was a mournful voice, and it was with difficulty that I recognized it was the nobleman Fortunato.All I could hear was—"Ha! Ha! what! --Hey!Hey!Hey! -- what a high-class joke -- brilliant.When we get to the mansion, we will have to laugh. Hey!Hey!Hey! -drinking and laughing-hey!Hey!Hey! " "White wine!" I said. "Hey! Hey! Hey! - Hey! Hey! Hey! - Yes, white wine. But is there still time? Aren't Mrs. Fortunato and others waiting for us at the mansion? Let's go." "Yes," I said, "let's go." "For God's sake, a Monterissor!" "Yes," I said, "for God's sake!" But after saying this, there was no answer.I grew impatient and shouted—"Fortunato!" No one answered.I yelled again—"Fortunato!" Still no answer.I stuck the torch into the unfinished hole in the wall.The torch fell into it.There was a jingle of bells immediately.I feel uncomfortable.This is due to the dampness of the tomb.I quickly finish off the rest.I plugged the last stone and plastered it.Next to the new wall, pile up the original pile of bones.Half a century has passed and no one has touched it.May the dead rest in peace! (1846)