Then he
proceeded to the Italian cellar, and descanted upon the excellence
of Barolo from Piedmont, of Chianti from Tuscany, of Orvieto
from the Roman States, of the 'Tears of Christ' from Naples, and
the commoner Marsala from Sicily. And so on, to an extent and
with a fullness of detail which cannot be rendered here.
At the end of the suite of cellars there was a glazed door, which, as
could be seen, gave access to a supplemental and smaller cellar, an
apartment about fifteen or sixteen feet square.
'Anything special in there?' asked Racksole curiously, as they stood
before the door, and looked within at the seined ends of bottles.
'Ah!' exclaimed Babylon, almost smacking his lips, 'therein lies the
cream of all.'
'The best champagne, I suppose?' said Racksole.
'Yes,' said Babylon, 'the best champagne is there - a very special
Sillery, as exquisite as you will find anywhere. But I see, my
friend, that you fall into the common error of putting champagne
first among wines. That distinction belongs to Burgundy. You have
old Burgundy in that cellar, Mr Racksole, which cost me - how
much do you think? - eighty pounds a bottle.
Probably it will never be drunk,' he added with a sigh. 'It is too
expensive even for princes and plutocrats.'
'Yes, it will,' said Racksole quickly. 'You and I will have a bottle
up to-morrow.'
'Then,' continued Babylon, still riding his hobby-horse, 'there is a
sample of the Rhine wine dated 1706 which caused such a
sensation at the Vienna Exhibition of 1873.
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