Nemo me impune lacessit."

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 walls of piled bones, with

casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of

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 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.

The Cask of Amontillado