human
There will be one bottle of the year,
gpt
Yes, of the year,
human
Might I ask of what year?
gpt
Of 1793, replied St. Maur;
human
; and he held the basket wine-cradle while the Duke put on his glasses, and, turning the lantern-light on to a shelf, said:
gpt
There are but twelve left.
human
Enough for us, friend, said Des Illes, lifting a bottle.
gpt
It has the black ribbon on the neck, but the spiders have so covered everything as with a pall, that it was hard to be sure. With this, he turned to me.
human
It has a black ribbon, you perceive.
gpt
It has,
human
And now, my friends, choose as you will, you cannot go far wrong. The sun of many summers is locked up in these bottles.
gpt
I wall take Chambertin,
human
And I, Pomard,
gpt
And I, said Des Illes,
human
Romanée Conti. But all here are in the peerage of wines.
gpt
It will be best that I choose for you. There is already enough of Burgundy to trouble some toes to-morrow. Shall we say Bordeaux? Here are two of long descent, and one is a comet-wine—of a name long lost—and one is Laffitte, and both are in good order; neither is less than thirty years old. In this changeless atmosphere our great wines are long-lived. Have a care not to disturb the wines as we go up the stairs.
human
We shall carry them with care, I replied, laughing,
gpt
And then without care, I trust, cried the younger St. Maur.
human
Let us go; it is chilly here.
gpt
A moment, said the Duke.
human
M. Michel will desire to know why all this costuming, and the bottles in mourning, and this ancient cellar.
gpt
True, I returned.
human
I was about to ask.
gpt
Well, well, said Des Illes.
human
A few words here, where they will have the more interest, and then let us mount, and end the tale with such memories as these good wines may suggest.
gpt
This way, said the Duke to me.
human
Let me show you something. I followed him to the end of the cellar, where, to my surprise, I saw by the light of his lantern a door heavily built and guarded by a bar of wood. This he lifted, and as he opened the door, and we gazed into the deep darkness beyond, he said:
gpt
I show you a passageway into the catacombs of Paris, of which this cave must have been a part until built off to be made a cellar somewhere in the reign of Louis XV. And stay. Look at this
human
What is it?
gpt
A woman’s glove—and it has been here since 1794.
human
The rest were better told in a less somber place, said St. Maur.
gpt
Let us go.