Rorie set out for the house in search of warmth and breakfast; but my uncle was bent1 upon examining the shores of Aros, and I felt it a part of duty to accompany him throughout. He was now docile2 and quiet, but tremulous and weak in mind and body; and it was with the eagerness of a child that he pursued his exploration. He climbed far down upon the rocks; on the beaches, he pursued the retreating breakers. The merest broken plank4 or rag of cordage was a treasure in his eyes to be secured at the peril5 of his life. To see him, with weak and stumbling footsteps, expose himself to the pursuit of the surf, or the snares6 and pitfalls7 of the weedy rock, kept me in a perpetual terror. My arm was ready to support him, my hand clutched him by the skirt, I helped him to draw his pitiful discoveries beyond the reach of the returning wave; a nurse accompanying a child of seven would have had no different experience.
Yet, weakened as he was by the reaction from his madness of the night before, the passions that smouldered in his nature were those of a strong man. His terror of the sea, although conquered for the moment, was still undiminished; had the sea been a lake of living flames, he could not have shrunk more panically from its touch; and once, when his foot slipped and he plunged8 to the midleg into a pool of water, the shriek9 that came up out of his soul was like the cry of death. He sat still for a while, panting like a dog, after that; but his desire for the spoils of shipwreck10 triumphed once more over his fears; once more he tottered12 among the curded foam13; once more he crawled upon the rocks among the bursting bubbles; once more his whole heart seemed to be set on driftwood, fit, if it was fit for anything, to throw upon the fire. Pleased as he was with what he found, he still incessantly14 grumbled15 at his ill-fortune.
‘Aros,’ he said, ‘is no a place for wrecks16 ava’ — no ava’. A’ the years I’ve dwalt here, this ane maks the second; and the best o’ the gear clean tint17!’
‘Uncle,’ said I, for we were now on a stretch of open sand, where there was nothing to divert his mind, ‘I saw you last night, as I never thought to see you — you were drunk.’
‘Na, na,’ he said, ‘no as bad as that. I had been drinking, though. And to tell ye the God’s truth, it’s a thing I cannae mend. There’s nae soberer man than me in my ordnar; but when I hear the wind blaw in my lug18, it’s my belief that I gang gyte.’
‘You are a religious man,’ I replied, ‘and this is sin’.
‘Ou,’ he returned, ‘if it wasnae sin, I dinnae ken3 that I would care for’t. Ye see, man, it’s defiance19. There’s a sair spang o’ the auld20 sin o’ the warld in you sea; it’s an unchristian business at the best o’t; an’ whiles when it gets up, an’ the wind skreights — the wind an’ her are a kind of sib, I’m thinkin’ — an’ thae Merry Men, the daft callants, blawin’ and lauchin’, and puir souls in the deid thraws warstlin’ the leelang nicht wi’ their bit ships — weel, it comes ower me like a glamour21. I’m a deil, I ken’t. But I think naething o’ the puir sailor lads; I’m wi’ the sea, I’m just like ane o’ her ain Merry Men.’
I thought I should touch him in a joint22 of his harness. I turned me towards the sea; the surf was running gaily23, wave after wave, with their manes blowing behind them, riding one after another up the beach, towering, curving, falling one upon another on the trampled24 sand. Without, the salt air, the scared gulls25, the widespread army of the sea-chargers, neighing to each other, as they gathered together to the assault of Aros; and close before us, that line on the flat sands that, with all their number and their fury, they might never pass.
‘Thus far shalt thou go,’ said I, ‘and no farther.’ And then I quoted as solemnly as I was able a verse that I had often before fitted to the chorus of the breakers:-
But yet the Lord that is on high, Is more of might by far, Than noise of many waters is, As great sea billows are.
‘Ay,’ said my kinsinan, ‘at the hinder end, the Lord will triumph; I dinnae misdoobt that. But here on earth, even silly men-folk daur Him to His face. It is nae wise; I am nae sayin’ that it’s wise; but it’s the pride of the eye, and it’s the lust26 o’ life, an’ it’s the wale o’ pleesures.’
I said no more, for we had now begun to cross a neck of land that lay between us and Sandag; and I withheld27 my last appeal to the man’s better reason till we should stand upon the spot associated with his crime. Nor did he pursue the subject; but he walked beside me with a firmer step. The call that I had made upon his mind acted like a stimulant28, and I could see that he had forgotten his search for worthless jetsam, in a profound, gloomy, and yet stirring train of thought. In three or four minutes we had topped the brae and begun to go down upon Sandag. The wreck11 had been roughly handled by the sea; the stem had been spun29 round and dragged a little lower down; and perhaps the stern had been forced a little higher, for the two parts now lay entirely30 separate on the beach. When we came to the grave I stopped, uncovered my head in the thick rain, and, looking my kinsman31 in the face, addressed him.
‘A man,’ said I, ‘was in God’s providence32 suffered to escape from mortal dangers; he was poor, he was naked, he was wet, he was weary, he was a stranger; he had every claim upon the bowels33 of your compassion34; it may be that he was the salt of the earth, holy, helpful, and kind; it may be he was a man laden35 with iniquities36 to whom death was the beginning of torment37. I ask you in the sight of heaven: Gordon Darnaway, where is the man for whom Christ died?’
He started visibly at the last words; but there came no answer, and his face expressed no feeling but a vague alarm.
‘You were my father’s brother,’ I continued; ‘You, have taught me to count your house as if it were my father’s house; and we are both sinful men walking before the Lord among the sins and dangers of this life. It is by our evil that God leads us into good; we sin, I dare not say by His temptation, but I must say with His consent; and to any but the brutish man his sins are the beginning of wisdom. God has warned you by this crime; He warns you still by the bloody38 grave between our feet; and if there shall follow no repentance39, no improvement, no return to Him, what can we look for but the following of some memorable40 judgment41?’
Even as I spoke42 the words, the eyes of my uncle wandered from my face. A change fell upon his looks that cannot be described; his features seemed to dwindle43 in size, the colour faded from his cheeks, one hand rose waveringly and pointed44 over my shoulder into the distance, and the oft-repeated name fell once more from his lips: ‘The CHRIST-ANNA!’
I turned; and if I was not appalled45 to the same degree, as I return thanks to Heaven that I had not the cause, I was still startled by the sight that met my eyes. The form of a man stood upright on the cabin-hutch of the wrecked46 ship; his back was towards us; he appeared to be scanning the offing with shaded eyes, and his figure was relieved to its full height, which was plainly very great, against the sea and sky. I have said a thousand times that I am not superstitious47; but at that moment, with my mind running upon death and sin, the unexplained appearance of a stranger on that sea-girt, solitary48 island filled me with a surprise that bordered close on terror. It seemed scarce possible that any human soul should have come ashore49 alive in such a sea as had rated last night along the coasts of Aros; and the only vessel50 within miles had gone down before our eyes among the Merry Men. I was assailed51 with doubts that made suspense52 unbearable53, and, to put the matter to the touch at once, stepped forward and hailed the figure like a ship.
He turned about, and I thought he started to behold54 us. At this my courage instantly revived, and I called and signed to him to draw near, and he, on his part, dropped immediately to the sands, and began slowly to approach, with many stops and hesitations55. At each repeated mark of the man’s uneasiness I grew the more confident myself; and I advanced another step, encouraging him as I did so with my head and hand. It was plain the castaway had heard indifferent accounts of our island hospitality; and indeed, about this time, the people farther north had a sorry reputation.
‘Why,’ I said, ‘the man is black!’
And just at that moment, in a voice that I could scarce have recognised, my kinsman began swearing and praying in a mingled56 stream. I looked at him; he had fallen on his knees, his face was agonised; at each step of the castaway’s the pitch of his voice rose, the volubility of his utterance57 and the fervour of his language redoubled. I call it prayer, for it was addressed to God; but surely no such ranting58 incongruities59 were ever before addressed to the Creator by a creature: surely if prayer can be a sin, this mad harangue60 was sinful. I ran to my kinsman, I seized him by the shoulders, I dragged him to his feet.
‘Silence, man,’ said I, ‘respect your God in words, if not in action. Here, on the very scene of your transgressions61, He sends you an occasion of atonement. Forward and embrace it; welcome like a father yon creature who comes trembling to your mercy.’
With that, I tried to force him towards the black; but he felled me to the ground, burst from my grasp, leaving the shoulder of his jacket, and fled up the hillside towards the top of Aros like a deer. I staggered to my feet again, bruised62 and somewhat stunned63; the negro had paused in surprise, perhaps in terror, some halfway64 between me and the wreck; my uncle was already far away, bounding from rock to rock; and I thus found myself torn for a time between two duties. But I judged, and I pray Heaven that I judged rightly, in favour of the poor wretch65 upon the sands; his misfortune was at least not plainly of his own creation; it was one, besides, that I could certainly relieve; and I had begun by that time to regard my uncle as an incurable66 and dismal67 lunatic. I advanced accordingly towards the black, who now awaited my approach with folded arms, like one prepared for either destiny. As I came nearer, he reached forth68 his hand with a great gesture, such as I had seen from the pulpit, and spoke to me in something of a pulpit voice, but not a word was comprehensible. I tried him first in English, then in Gaelic, both in vain; so that it was clear we must rely upon the tongue of looks and gestures. Thereupon I signed to him to follow me, which he did readily and with a grave obeisance69 like a fallen king; all the while there had come no shade of alteration70 in his face, neither of anxiety while he was still waiting, nor of relief now that he was reassured71; if he were a slave, as I supposed, I could not but judge he must have fallen from some high place in his own country, and fallen as he was, I could not but admire his bearing. As we passed the grave, I paused and raised my hands and eyes to heaven in token of respect and sorrow for the dead; and he, as if in answer, bowed low and spread his hands abroad; it was a strange motion, but done like a thing of common custom; and I supposed it was ceremonial in the land from which he came. At the same time he pointed to my uncle, whom we could just see perched upon a knoll73, and touched his head to indicate that he was mad.
We took the long way round the shore, for I feared to excite my uncle if we struck across the island; and as we walked, I had time enough to mature the little dramatic exhibition by which I hoped to satisfy my doubts. Accordingly, pausing on a rock, I proceeded to imitate before the negro the action of the man whom I had seen the day before taking bearings with the compass at Sandag. He understood me at once, and, taking the imitation out of my hands, showed me where the boat was, pointed out seaward as if to indicate the position of the schooner74, and then down along the edge of the rock with the words ‘Espirito Santo,’ strangely pronounced, but clear enough for recognition. I had thus been right in my conjecture75; the pretended historical inquiry76 had been but a cloak for treasure-hunting; the man who had played on Dr. Robertson was the same as the foreigner who visited Grisapol in spring, and now, with many others, lay dead under the Roost of Aros: there had their greed brought them, there should their bones be tossed for evermore. In the meantime the black continued his imitation of the scene, now looking up skyward as though watching the approach of the storm now, in the character of a seaman77, waving the rest to come aboard; now as an officer, running along the rock and entering the boat; and anon bending over imaginary oars78 with the air of a hurried boatman; but all with the same solemnity of manner, so that I was never even moved to smile. Lastly, he indicated to me, by a pantomime not to be described in words, how he himself had gone up to examine the stranded79 wreck, and, to his grief and indignation, had been deserted80 by his comrades; and thereupon folded his arms once more, and stooped his head, like one accepting fate.
The mystery of his presence being thus solved for me, I explained to him by means of a sketch81 the fate of the vessel and of all aboard her. He showed no surprise nor sorrow, and, with a sudden lifting of his open hand, seemed to dismiss his former friends or masters (whichever they had been) into God’s pleasure. Respect came upon me and grew stronger, the more I observed him; I saw he had a powerful mind and a sober and severe character, such as I loved to commune with; and before we reached the house of Aros I had almost forgotten, and wholly forgiven him, his uncanny colour.
To Mary I told all that had passed without suppression, though I own my heart failed me; but I did wrong to doubt her sense of justice.
‘You did the right,’ she said. ‘God’s will be done.’ And she set out meat for us at once.
As soon as I was satisfied, I bade Rorie keep an eye upon the castaway, who was still eating, and set forth again myself to find my uncle. I had not gone far before I saw him sitting in the same place, upon the very topmost knoll, and seemingly in the same attitude as when I had last observed him. From that point, as I have said, the most of Aros and the neighbouring Ross would be spread below him like a map; and it was plain that he kept a bright look-out in all directions, for my head had scarcely risen above the summit of the first ascent82 before he had leaped to his feet and turned as if to face me. I hailed him at once, as well as I was able, in the same tones and words as I had often used before, when I had come to summon him to dinner. He made not so much as a movement in reply. I passed on a little farther, and again tried parley83, with the same result. But when I began a second time to advance, his insane fears blazed up again, and still in dead silence, but with incredible speed, he began to flee from before me along the rocky summit of the hill. An hour before, he had been dead weary, and I had been comparatively active. But now his strength was recruited by the fervour of insanity84, and it would have been vain for me to dream of pursuit. Nay85, the very attempt, I thought, might have inflamed86 his terrors, and thus increased the miseries87 of our position. And I had nothing left but to turn homeward and make my sad report to Mary.
She heard it, as she had heard the first, with a concerned composure, and, bidding me lie down and take that rest of which I stood so much in need, set forth herself in quest of her misguided father. At that age it would have been a strange thing that put me from either meat or sleep; I slept long and deep; and it was already long past noon before I awoke and came downstairs into the kitchen. Mary, Rorie, and the black castaway were seated about the fire in silence; and I could see that Mary had been weeping. There was cause enough, as I soon learned, for tears. First she, and then Rorie, had been forth to seek my uncle; each in turn had found him perched upon the hill-top, and from each in turn he had silently and swiftly fled. Rorie had tried to chase him, but in vain; madness lent a new vigour88 to his bounds; he sprang from rock to rock over the widest gullies; he scoured89 like the wind along the hill-tops; he doubled and twisted like a hare before the dogs; and Rorie at length gave in; and the last that he saw, my uncle was seated as before upon the crest90 of Aros. Even during the hottest excitement of the chase, even when the fleet-footed servant had come, for a moment, very near to capture him, the poor lunatic had uttered not a sound. He fled, and he was silent, like a beast; and this silence had terrified his pursuer.
There was something heart-breaking in the situation. How to capture the madman, how to feed him in the meanwhile, and what to do with him when he was captured, were the three difficulties that we had to solve.
‘The black,’ said I, ‘is the cause of this attack. It may even be his presence in the house that keeps my uncle on the hill. We have done the fair thing; he has been fed and warmed under this roof; now I propose that Rorie put him across the bay in the coble, and take him through the Ross as far as Grisapol.’
In this proposal Mary heartily91 concurred92; and bidding the black follow us, we all three descended93 to the pier94. Certainly, Heaven’s will was declared against Gordon Darnaway; a thing had happened, never paralleled before in Aros; during the storm, the coble had broken loose, and, striking on the rough splinters of the pier, now lay in four feet of water with one side stove in. Three days of work at least would be required to make her float. But I was not to be beaten. I led the whole party round to where the gut95 was narrowest, swam to the other side, and called to the black to follow me. He signed, with the same clearness and quiet as before, that he knew not the art; and there was truth apparent in his signals, it would have occurred to none of us to doubt his truth; and that hope being over, we must all go back even as we came to the house of Aros, the negro walking in our midst without embarrassment96.
All we could do that day was to make one more attempt to communicate with the unhappy madman. Again he was visible on his perch72; again he fled in silence. But food and a great cloak were at least left for his comfort; the rain, besides, had cleared away, and the night promised to be even warm. We might compose ourselves, we thought, until the morrow; rest was the chief requisite97, that we might be strengthened for unusual exertions98; and as none cared to talk, we separated at an early hour.
I lay long awake, planning a campaign for the morrow. I was to place the black on the side of Sandag, whence he should head my uncle towards the house; Rorie in the west, I on the east, were to complete the cordon99, as best we might. It seemed to me, the more I recalled the configuration100 of the island, that it should be possible, though hard, to force him down upon the low ground along Aros Bay; and once there, even with the strength of his madness, ultimate escape was hardly to be feared. It was on his terror of the black that I relied; for I made sure, however he might run, it would not be in the direction of the man whom he supposed to have returned from the dead, and thus one point of the compass at least would be secure.
When at length I fell asleep, it was to be awakened101 shortly after by a dream of wrecks, black men, and submarine adventure; and I found myself so shaken and fevered that I arose, descended the stair, and stepped out before the house. Within, Rorie and the black were asleep together in the kitchen; outside was a wonderful clear night of stars, with here and there a cloud still hanging, last stragglers of the tempest. It was near the top of the flood, and the Merry Men were roaring in the windless quiet of the night. Never, not even in the height of the tempest, had I heard their song with greater awe102. Now, when the winds were gathered home, when the deep was dandling itself back into its summer slumber103, and when the stars rained their gentle light over land and sea, the voice of these tide-breakers was still raised for havoc104. They seemed, indeed, to be a part of the world’s evil and the tragic105 side of life. Nor were their meaningless vociferations the only sounds that broke the silence of the night. For I could hear, now shrill106 and thrilling and now almost drowned, the note of a human voice that accompanied the uproar107 of the Roost. I knew it for my kinsman’s; and a great fear fell upon me of God’s judgments108, and the evil in the world. I went back again into the darkness of the house as into a place of shelter, and lay long upon my bed, pondering these mysteries.
It was late when I again woke, and I leaped into my clothes and hurried to the kitchen. No one was there; Rorie and the black had both stealthily departed long before; and my heart stood still at the discovery. I could rely on Rorie’s heart, but I placed no trust in his discretion109. If he had thus set out without a word, he was plainly bent upon some service to my uncle. But what service could he hope to render even alone, far less in the company of the man in whom my uncle found his fears incarnated110? Even if I were not already too late to prevent some deadly mischief111, it was plain I must delay no longer. With the thought I was out of the house; and often as I have run on the rough sides of Aros, I never ran as I did that fatal morning. I do not believe I put twelve minutes to the whole ascent.
My uncle was gone from his perch. The basket had indeed been torn open and the meat scattered112 on the turf; but, as we found afterwards, no mouthful had been tasted; and there was not another trace of human existence in that wide field of view. Day had already filled the clear heavens; the sun already lighted in a rosy114 bloom upon the crest of Ben Kyaw; but all below me the rude knolls115 of Aros and the shield of sea lay steeped in the clear darkling twilight116 of the dawn.
‘Rorie!’ I cried; and again ‘Rorie!’ My voice died in the silence, but there came no answer back. If there were indeed an enterprise afoot to catch my uncle, it was plainly not in fleetness of foot, but in dexterity117 of stalking, that the hunters placed their trust. I ran on farther, keeping the higher spurs, and looking right and left, nor did I pause again till I was on the mount above Sandag. I could see the wreck, the uncovered belt of sand, the waves idly beating, the long ledge118 of rocks, and on either hand the tumbled knolls, boulders119, and gullies of the island. But still no human thing.
At a stride the sunshine fell on Aros, and the shadows and colours leaped into being. Not half a moment later, below me to the west, sheep began to scatter113 as in a panic. There came a cry. I saw my uncle running. I saw the black jump up in hot pursuit; and before I had time to understand, Rorie also had appeared, calling directions in Gaelic as to a dog herding120 sheep.
I took to my heels to interfere121, and perhaps I had done better to have waited where I was, for I was the means of cutting off the madman’s last escape. There was nothing before him from that moment but the grave, the wreck, and the sea in Sandag Bay. And yet Heaven knows that what I did was for the best.
My uncle Gordon saw in what direction, horrible to him, the chase was driving him. He doubled, darting122 to the right and left; but high as the fever ran in his veins123, the black was still the swifter. Turn where he would, he was still forestalled124, still driven toward the scene of his crime. Suddenly he began to shriek aloud, so that the coast re-echoed; and now both I and Rorie were calling on the black to stop. But all was vain, for it was written otherwise. The pursuer still ran, the chase still sped before him screaming; they avoided the grave, and skimmed close past the timbers of the wreck; in a breath they had cleared the sand; and still my kinsman did not pause, but dashed straight into the surf; and the black, now almost within reach, still followed swiftly behind him. Rorie and I both stopped, for the thing was now beyond the hands of men, and these were the decrees of God that came to pass before our eyes. There was never a sharper ending. On that steep beach they were beyond their depth at a bound; neither could swim; the black rose once for a moment with a throttling125 cry; but the current had them, racing126 seaward; and if ever they came up again, which God alone can tell, it would be ten minutes after, at the far end of Aros Roost, where the seabirds hover127 fishing.
The End
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
docile
|
|
| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
ken
|
|
| n.视野，知识领域 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
plank
|
|
| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
snares
|
|
| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
pitfalls
|
|
| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
shipwreck
|
|
| n.船舶失事，海难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
tottered
|
|
| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
grumbled
|
|
| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
wrecks
|
|
| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
tint
|
|
| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
lug
|
|
| n.柄，突出部，螺帽；(英）耳朵；（俚）笨蛋；vt.拖，拉，用力拖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
defiance
|
|
| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
auld
|
|
| adj.老的，旧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
glamour
|
|
| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
joint
|
|
| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
gaily
|
|
| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
trampled
|
|
| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
gulls
|
|
| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
lust
|
|
| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
withheld
|
|
| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
stimulant
|
|
| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
spun
|
|
| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
kinsman
|
|
| n.男亲属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
bowels
|
|
| n.肠，内脏，内部；肠( bowel的名词复数 )；内部，最深处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
laden
|
|
| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
iniquities
|
|
| n.邪恶( iniquity的名词复数 )；极不公正 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
torment
|
|
| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
repentance
|
|
| n.懊悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
dwindle
|
|
| v.逐渐变小（或减少） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
appalled
|
|
| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
wrecked
|
|
| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
superstitious
|
|
| adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
ashore
|
|
| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
vessel
|
|
| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
suspense
|
|
| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
unbearable
|
|
| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
hesitations
|
|
| n.犹豫( hesitation的名词复数 )；踌躇；犹豫（之事或行为）；口吃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
ranting
|
|
| v.夸夸其谈( rant的现在分词 )；大叫大嚷地以…说教；气愤地)大叫大嚷；不停地大声抱怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
incongruities
|
|
| n.不协调( incongruity的名词复数 )；不一致；不适合；不协调的东西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
harangue
|
|
| n.慷慨冗长的训话，言辞激烈的讲话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
transgressions
|
|
| n.违反，违法，罪过( transgression的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
bruised
|
|
| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
stunned
|
|
| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
incurable
|
|
| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
dismal
|
|
| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
obeisance
|
|
| n.鞠躬，敬礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
alteration
|
|
| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
reassured
|
|
| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
perch
|
|
| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
knoll
|
|
| n.小山，小丘 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
schooner
|
|
| n.纵帆船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
conjecture
|
|
| n./v.推测，猜测 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
inquiry
|
|
| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
seaman
|
|
| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
oars
|
|
| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
stranded
|
|
| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
sketch
|
|
| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
ascent
|
|
| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
parley
|
|
| n.谈判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
insanity
|
|
| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
inflamed
|
|
| adj.发炎的，红肿的v.（使）变红，发怒，过热( inflame的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
miseries
|
|
| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
vigour
|
|
| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
scoured
|
|
| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
crest
|
|
| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
concurred
|
|
| 同意（concur的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
pier
|
|
| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
gut
|
|
| n.[pl.]胆量；内脏；adj.本能的；vt.取出内脏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
requisite
|
|
| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
exertions
|
|
| n.努力( exertion的名词复数 )；费力；（能力、权力等的）运用；行使 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
cordon
|
|
| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
configuration
|
|
| n.结构，布局，形态，(计算机)配置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
havoc
|
|
| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
uproar
|
|
| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
judgments
|
|
| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
incarnated
|
|
| v.赋予（思想、精神等）以人的形体( incarnate的过去式和过去分词 )；使人格化；体现；使具体化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
mischief
|
|
| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
knolls
|
|
| n.小圆丘，小土墩( knoll的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
dexterity
|
|
| n.(手的)灵巧，灵活 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
ledge
|
|
| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
boulders
|
|
| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
herding
|
|
| 中畜群 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
darting
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
forestalled
|
|
| v.先发制人，预先阻止( forestall的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
throttling
|
|
| v.扼杀( throttle的现在分词 )；勒死；使窒息；压制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
hover
|
|
| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |