L2-6-1

Fortunato and I both were members of very old and important Italian families.

We used to play together when we were children.

Fortunato was bigger, richer, and more handsome than I was.

And he enjoyed making me look like a fool.

He hurt my feelings a thousand times during the years of my childhood.

I never showed my anger, however, so he thought we were good friends.

But I promised myself that one day I would punish Fortunato for his insults to me.

Many years passed.

Fortunato married a rich and beautiful woman who gave him sons.

Deep in my heart I hated him.

But I never said or did anything that showed him how I really felt.

When I smiled at him, he thought it was because we were friends.

He did not know it was the thought of his death that made me smile.

Everyone in our town respected Fortunato.

Some men were afraid of him because he was so rich and powerful.

He had a weak spot, however.

He thought he was an excellent judge of wine.

I also was an expert on wine.

I spent a lot of money buying rare and costly wines.

I stored the wines in the dark rooms under my family's palace.

Our palace was one of the oldest buildings in the town.

The Montresur family had lived in it for hundreds of years.

We had buried our dead in the rooms under the palace.

These tombs were quiet, dark places that no one but myself ever visited.

Late one evening, during carnival season, I happened to meet Fortunato on the street.

He was going home alone from a party.

Fortunato was beautiful in his silk suit made of many colors.

Yellow, green, purple and red.

On his head he wore an orange cap covered with little silver bells.

I could see he had been drinking too much wine.

He threw his arms around me.

He said he was glad to see me.

I said I was glad to see him too.

Because I had a little problem.

What is it?

He asked, putting his large hand on my shoulder.

My dear Fortunato, I said, I'm afraid I have been very stupid.

The man who sells me wine said he had a rare barrel of a Monteado wine.

I believed him and I bought it from him.

But now I'm not so sure that the wine is really a Monteado.

What?

He said, a cask of a Monteado at this time of year.

An entire barrel?

Impossible.