He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to
me familiarly, while his bells jingled.

"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."

"And I to your long life."

He again took my arm, and we proceeded.

"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."

"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous
family."

"I forget your arms."

"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a
serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."

"And the motto?"

" 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.