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"Fortunato--"
No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and
let it fall within. There came forth in reply 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 labour. 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!
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