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The
wine
sparkled
in
his
eyes
and
the
bells
jingled
.
My
own
fancy
grew
warm
with
the
Medoc
.
We
had
passed
through
long
walls
of
piled
skeletons
,
with
casks
and
puncheons
intermingling
,
into
the
inmost
recesses
of
the
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
.
"
Not
I
,
"
I
replied
.
"
Then
you
are
not
of
the
brotherhood
.
"
"
How
?
"
"
You
are
not
of
the
masons
.
"
