Regarded by the O. S. N. Company as an old and faithful servant, Captain Mitchell was allowed to attain8 the term of his usefulness in ease and dignity at the head of the enormously extended service. The augmentation of the establishment, with its crowds of clerks, an office in town, the old office in the harbour, the division into departments — passenger, cargo9, lighterage, and so on — secured a greater leisure for his last years in the regenerated11 Sulaco, the capital of the Occidental Republic. Liked by the natives for his good nature and the formality of his manner, self-important and simple, known for years as a “friend of our country,” he felt himself a personality of mark in the town. Getting up early for a turn in the market-place while the gigantic shadow of Higuerota was still lying upon the fruit and flower stalls piled up with masses of gorgeous colouring, attending easily to current affairs, welcomed in houses, greeted by ladies on the Alameda, with his entry into all the clubs and a footing in the Casa Gould, he led his privileged old bachelor, man-about-town existence with great comfort and solemnity. But on mail-boat days he was down at the Harbour Office at an early hour, with his own gig, manned by a smart crew in white and blue, ready to dash off and board the ship directly she showed her bows between the harbour heads.
It would be into the Harbour Office that he would lead some privileged passenger he had brought off in his own boat, and invite him to take a seat for a moment while he signed a few papers. And Captain Mitchell, seating himself at his desk, would keep on talking hospitably12 —
“There isn’t much time if you are to see everything in a day. We shall be off in a moment. We’ll have lunch at the Amarilla Club — though I belong also to the Anglo-American — mining engineers and business men, don’t you know — and to the Mirliflores as well, a new club — English, French, Italians, all sorts — lively young fellows mostly, who wanted to pay a compliment to an old resident, sir. But we’ll lunch at the Amarilla. Interest you, I fancy. Real thing of the country. Men of the first families. The President of the Occidental Republic himself belongs to it, sir. Fine old bishop13 with a broken nose in the patio14. Remarkable15 piece of statuary, I believe. Cavaliere Parrochetti — you know Parrochetti, the famous Italian sculptor16 — was working here for two years — thought very highly of our old bishop. . . . There! I am very much at your service now.”
Proud of his experience, penetrated17 by the sense of historical importance of men, events, and buildings, he talked pompously18 in jerky periods, with slight sweeps of his short, thick arm, letting nothing “escape the attention” of his privileged captive.
“Lot of building going on, as you observe. Before the Separation it was a plain of burnt grass smothered19 in clouds of dust, with an ox-cart track to our Jetty. Nothing more. This is the Harbour Gate. Picturesque20, is it not? Formerly21 the town stopped short there. We enter now the Calle de la Constitucion. Observe the old Spanish houses. Great dignity. Eh? I suppose it’s just as it was in the time of the Viceroys, except for the pavement. Wood blocks now. Sulaco National Bank there, with the sentry22 boxes each side of the gate. Casa Avellanos this side, with all the ground-floor windows shuttered. A wonderful woman lives there — Miss Avellanos — the beautiful Antonia. A character, sir! A historical woman! Opposite — Casa Gould. Noble gateway23. Yes, the Goulds of the original Gould Concession24, that all the world knows of now. I hold seventeen of the thousand-dollar shares in the Consolidated25 San Tome mines. All the poor savings26 of my lifetime, sir, and it will be enough to keep me in comfort to the end of my days at home when I retire. I got in on the ground-floor, you see. Don Carlos, great friend of mine. Seventeen shares — quite a little fortune to leave behind one, too. I have a niece — married a parson — most worthy27 man, incumbent28 of a small parish in Sussex; no end of children. I was never married myself. A sailor should exercise self-denial. Standing30 under that very gateway, sir, with some young engineer-fellows, ready to defend that house where we had received so much kindness and hospitality, I saw the first and last charge of Pedrito’s horsemen upon Barrios’s troops, who had just taken the Harbour Gate. They could not stand the new rifles brought out by that poor Decoud. It was a murderous fire. In a moment the street became blocked with a mass of dead men and horses. They never came on again.”
And all day Captain Mitchell would talk like this to his more or less willing victim —
“The Plaza31. I call it magnificent. Twice the area of Trafalgar Square.”
From the very centre, in the blazing sunshine, he pointed32 out the buildings —
“The Intendencia, now President’s Palace — Cabildo, where the Lower Chamber33 of Parliament sits. You notice the new houses on that side of the Plaza? Compania Anzani, a great general store, like those cooperative things at home. Old Anzani was murdered by the National Guards in front of his safe. It was even for that specific crime that the deputy Gamacho, commanding the Nationals, a bloodthirsty and savage34 brute35, was executed publicly by garrotte upon the sentence of a court-martial ordered by Barrios. Anzani’s nephews converted the business into a company. All that side of the Plaza had been burnt; used to be colonnaded36 before. A terrible fire, by the light of which I saw the last of the fighting, the llaneros flying, the Nationals throwing their arms down, and the miners of San Tome, all Indians from the Sierra, rolling by like a torrent37 to the sound of pipes and cymbals38, green flags flying, a wild mass of men in white ponchos39 and green hats, on foot, on mules40, on donkeys. Such a sight, sir, will never be seen again. The miners, sir, had marched upon the town, Don Pepe leading on his black horse, and their very wives in the rear on burros, screaming encouragement, sir, and beating tambourines42. I remember one of these women had a green parrot seated on her shoulder, as calm as a bird of stone. They had just saved their Senor Administrador; for Barrios, though he ordered the assault at once, at night, too, would have been too late. Pedrito Montero had Don Carlos led out to be shot — like his uncle many years ago — and then, as Barrios said afterwards, ‘Sulaco would not have been worth fighting for.’ Sulaco without the Concession was nothing; and there were tons and tons of dynamite43 distributed all over the mountain with detonators arranged, and an old priest, Father Roman, standing by to annihilate44 the San Tome mine at the first news of failure. Don Carlos had made up his mind not to leave it behind, and he had the right men to see to it, too.”
Thus Captain Mitchell would talk in the middle of the Plaza, holding over his head a white umbrella with a green lining45; but inside the cathedral, in the dim light, with a faint scent46 of incense47 floating in the cool atmosphere, and here and there a kneeling female figure, black or all white, with a veiled head, his lowered voice became solemn and impressive.
“Here,” he would say, pointing to a niche48 in the wall of the dusky aisle49, “you see the bust50 of Don Jose Avellanos, ‘Patriot and Statesman,’ as the inscription51 says, ‘Minister to Courts of England and Spain, etc., etc., died in the woods of Los Hatos worn out with his lifelong struggle for Right and Justice at the dawn of the New Era.’ A fair likeness52. Parrochetti’s work from some old photographs and a pencil sketch53 by Mrs. Gould. I was well acquainted with that distinguished Spanish-American of the old school, a true Hidalgo, beloved by everybody who knew him. The marble medallion in the wall, in the antique style, representing a veiled woman seated with her hands clasped loosely over her knees, commemorates54 that unfortunate young gentleman who sailed out with Nostromo on that fatal night, sir. See, ‘To the memory of Martin Decoud, his betrothed55 Antonia Avellanos.’ Frank, simple, noble. There you have that lady, sir, as she is. An exceptional woman. Those who thought she would give way to despair were mistaken, sir. She has been blamed in many quarters for not having taken the veil. It was expected of her. But Dona Antonia is not the stuff they make nuns56 of. Bishop Corbelan, her uncle, lives with her in the Corbelan town house. He is a fierce sort of priest, everlastingly57 worrying the Government about the old Church lands and convents. I believe they think a lot of him in Rome. Now let us go to the Amarilla Club, just across the Plaza, to get some lunch.”
Directly outside the cathedral on the very top of the noble flight of steps, his voice rose pompously, his arm found again its sweeping58 gesture.
“Porvenir, over there on that first floor, above those French plate-glass shop-fronts; our biggest daily. Conservative, or, rather, I should say, Parliamentary. We have the Parliamentary party here of which the actual Chief of the State, Don Juste Lopez, is the head; a very sagacious man, I think. A first-rate intellect, sir. The Democratic party in opposition59 rests mostly, I am sorry to say, on these socialistic Italians, sir, with their secret societies, camorras, and such-like. There are lots of Italians settled here on the railway lands, dismissed navvies, mechanics, and so on, all along the trunk line. There are whole villages of Italians on the Campo. And the natives, too, are being drawn60 into these ways . . . American bar? Yes. And over there you can see another. New Yorkers mostly frequent that one —— Here we are at the Amarilla. Observe the bishop at the foot of the stairs to the right as we go in.”
And the lunch would begin and terminate its lavish61 and leisurely62 course at a little table in the gallery, Captain Mitchell nodding, bowing, getting up to speak for a moment to different officials in black clothes, merchants in jackets, officers in uniform, middle-aged63 caballeros from the Campo — sallow, little, nervous men, and fat, placid64, swarthy men, and Europeans or North Americans of superior standing, whose faces looked very white amongst the majority of dark complexions65 and black, glistening66 eyes.
Captain Mitchell would lie back in the chair, casting around looks of satisfaction, and tender over the table a case full of thick cigars.
“Try a weed with your coffee. Local tobacco. The black coffee you get at the Amarilla, sir, you don’t meet anywhere in the world. We get the bean from a famous cafeteria in the foot-hills, whose owner sends three sacks every year as a present to his fellow members in remembrance of the fight against Gamacho’s Nationals, carried on from these very windows by the caballeros. He was in town at the time, and took part, sir, to the bitter end. It arrives on three mules — not in the common way, by rail; no fear! — right into the patio, escorted by mounted peons, in charge of the Mayoral of his estate, who walks upstairs, booted and spurred, and delivers it to our committee formally with the words, ‘For the sake of those fallen on the third of May.’ We call it Tres de Mayo coffee. Taste it.”
Captain Mitchell, with an expression as though making ready to hear a sermon in a church, would lift the tiny cup to his lips. And the nectar would be sipped67 to the bottom during a restful silence in a cloud of cigar smoke.
“Look at this man in black just going out,” he would begin, leaning forward hastily. “This is the famous Hernandez, Minister of War. The Times’ special correspondent, who wrote that striking series of letters calling the Occidental Republic the ‘Treasure House of the World,’ gave a whole article to him and the force he has organized — the renowned68 Carabineers of the Campo.”
Captain Mitchell’s guest, staring curiously69, would see a figure in a long-tailed black coat walking gravely, with downcast eyelids70 in a long, composed face, a brow furrowed71 horizontally, a pointed head, whose grey hair, thin at the top, combed down carefully on all sides and rolled at the ends, fell low on the neck and shoulders. This, then, was the famous bandit of whom Europe had heard with interest. He put on a high-crowned sombrero with a wide flat brim; a rosary of wooden beads72 was twisted about his right wrist. And Captain Mitchell would proceed —
“The protector of the Sulaco refugees from the rage of Pedrito. As general of cavalry73 with Barrios he distinguished himself at the storming of Tonoro, where Senor Fuentes was killed with the last remnant of the Monterists. He is the friend and humble74 servant of Bishop Corbelan. Hears three Masses every day. I bet you he will step into the cathedral to say a prayer or two on his way home to his siesta75.”
He took several puffs76 at his cigar in silence; then, in his most important manner, pronounced:
“The Spanish race, sir, is prolific77 of remarkable characters in every rank of life. . . . I propose we go now into the billiard-room, which is cool, for a quiet chat. There’s never anybody there till after five. I could tell you episodes of the Separationist revolution that would astonish you. When the great heat’s over, we’ll take a turn on the Alameda.”
The programme went on relentless78, like a law of Nature. The turn on the Alameda was taken with slow steps and stately remarks.
“All the great world of Sulaco here, sir.” Captain Mitchell bowed right and left with no end of formality; then with animation79, “Dona Emilia, Mrs. Gould’s carriage. Look. Always white mules. The kindest, most gracious woman the sun ever shone upon. A great position, sir. A great position. First lady in Sulaco — far before the President’s wife. And worthy of it.” He took off his hat; then, with a studied change of tone, added, negligently80, that the man in black by her side, with a high white collar and a scarred, snarly81 face, was Dr. Monygham, Inspector82 of State Hospitals, chief medical officer of the Consolidated San Tome mines. “A familiar of the house. Everlastingly there. No wonder. The Goulds made him. Very clever man and all that, but I never liked him. Nobody does. I can recollect83 him limping about the streets in a check shirt and native sandals with a watermelon under his arm — all he would get to eat for the day. A big-wig now, sir, and as nasty as ever. However . . . There’s no doubt he played his part fairly well at the time. He saved us all from the deadly incubus84 of Sotillo, where a more particular man might have failed ——”
His arm went up.
“The equestrian85 statue that used to stand on the pedestal over there has been removed. It was an anachronism,” Captain Mitchell commented, obscurely. “There is some talk of replacing it by a marble shaft86 commemorative of Separation, with angels of peace at the four corners, and bronze Justice holding an even balance, all gilt87, on the top. Cavaliere Parrochetti was asked to make a design, which you can see framed under glass in the Municipal Sala. Names are to be engraved88 all round the base. Well! They could do no better than begin with the name of Nostromo. He has done for Separation as much as anybody else, and,” added Captain Mitchell, “has got less than many others by it — when it comes to that.” He dropped on to a stone seat under a tree, and tapped invitingly89 at the place by his side. “He carried to Barrios the letters from Sulaco which decided90 the General to abandon Cayta for a time, and come back to our help here by sea. The transports were still in harbour fortunately. Sir, I did not even know that my Capataz de Cargadores was alive. I had no idea. It was Dr. Monygham who came upon him, by chance, in the Custom House, evacuated91 an hour or two before by the wretched Sotillo. I was never told; never given a hint, nothing — as if I were unworthy of confidence. Monygham arranged it all. He went to the railway yards, and got admission to the engineer-in-chief, who, for the sake of the Goulds as much as for anything else, consented to let an engine make a dash down the line, one hundred and eighty miles, with Nostromo aboard. It was the only way to get him off. In the Construction Camp at the railhead, he obtained a horse, arms, some clothing, and started alone on that marvellous ride — four hundred miles in six days, through a disturbed country, ending by the feat92 of passing through the Monterist lines outside Cayta. The history of that ride, sir, would make a most exciting book. He carried all our lives in his pocket. Devotion, courage, fidelity93, intelligence were not enough. Of course, he was perfectly94 fearless and incorruptible. But a man was wanted that would know how to succeed. He was that man, sir. On the fifth of May, being practically a prisoner in the Harbour Office of my Company, I suddenly heard the whistle of an engine in the railway yards, a quarter of a mile away. I could not believe my ears. I made one jump on to the balcony, and beheld95 a locomotive under a great head of steam run out of the yard gates, screeching97 like mad, enveloped98 in a white cloud, and then, just abreast99 of old Viola’s inn, check almost to a standstill. I made out, sir, a man — I couldn’t tell who — dash out of the Albergo d’ltalia Una, climb into the cab, and then, sir, that engine seemed positively100 to leap clear of the house, and was gone in the twinkling of an eye. As you blow a candle out, sir! There was a first-rate driver on the foot-plate, sir, I can tell you. They were fired heavily upon by the National Guards in Rincon and one other place. Fortunately the line had not been torn up. In four hours they reached the Construction Camp. Nostromo had his start. . . . The rest you know. You’ve got only to look round you. There are people on this Alameda that ride in their carriages, or even are alive at all to-day, because years ago I engaged a runaway102 Italian sailor for a foreman of our wharf103 simply on the strength of his looks. And that’s a fact. You can’t get over it, sir. On the seventeenth of May, just twelve days after I saw the man from the Casa Viola get on the engine, and wondered what it meant, Barrios’s transports were entering this harbour, and the ‘Treasure House of the World,’ as The Times man calls Sulaco in his book, was saved intact for civilization — for a great future, sir. Pedrito, with Hernandez on the west, and the San Tome miners pressing on the land gate, was not able to oppose the landing. He had been sending messages to Sotillo for a week to join him. Had Sotillo done so there would have been massacres104 and proscription105 that would have left no man or woman of position alive. But that’s where Dr. Monygham comes in. Sotillo, blind and deaf to everything, stuck on board his steamer watching the dragging for silver, which he believed to be sunk at the bottom of the harbour. They say that for the last three days he was out of his mind raving106 and foaming107 with disappointment at getting nothing, flying about the deck, and yelling curses at the boats with the drags, ordering them in, and then suddenly stamping his foot and crying out, ‘And yet it is there! I see it! I feel it!’
“He was preparing to hang Dr. Monygham (whom he had on board) at the end of the after-derrick, when the first of Barrios’s transports, one of our own ships at that, steamed right in, and ranging close alongside opened a small-arm fire without as much preliminaries as a hail. It was the completest surprise in the world, sir. They were too astounded108 at first to bolt below. Men were falling right and left like ninepins. It’s a miracle that Monygham, standing on the after-hatch with the rope already round his neck, escaped being riddled109 through and through like a sieve110. He told me since that he had given himself up for lost, and kept on yelling with all the strength of his lungs: ‘Hoist111 a white flag! Hoist a white flag!’ Suddenly an old major of the Esmeralda regiment112, standing by, unsheathed his sword with a shriek113: ‘Die, perjured114 traitor115!’ and ran Sotillo clean through the body, just before he fell himself shot through the head.”
Captain Mitchell stopped for a while.
“Begad, sir! I could spin you a yarn116 for hours. But it’s time we started off to Rincon. It would not do for you to pass through Sulaco and not see the lights of the San Tome mine, a whole mountain ablaze117 like a lighted palace above the dark Campo. It’s a fashionable drive. . . . But let me tell you one little anecdote118, sir; just to show you. A fortnight or more later, when Barrios, declared Generalissimo, was gone in pursuit of Pedrito away south, when the Provisional Junta119, with Don Juste Lopez at its head, had promulgated120 the new Constitution, and our Don Carlos Gould was packing up his trunks bound on a mission to San Francisco and Washington (the United States, sir, were the first great power to recognize the Occidental Republic)— a fortnight later, I say, when we were beginning to feel that our heads were safe on our shoulders, if I may express myself so, a prominent man, a large shipper by our line, came to see me on business, and, says he, the first thing: ‘I say, Captain Mitchell, is that fellow’ (meaning Nostromo) ‘still the Capataz of your Cargadores or not?’ ‘What’s the matter?’ says I. ‘Because, if he is, then I don’t mind; I send and receive a good lot of cargo by your ships; but I have observed him several days loafing about the wharf, and just now he stopped me as cool as you please, with a request for a cigar. Now, you know, my cigars are rather special, and I can’t get them so easily as all that.’ ‘I hope you stretched a point,’ I said, very gently. ‘Why, yes. But it’s a confounded nuisance. The fellow’s everlastingly cadging121 for smokes.’ Sir, I turned my eyes away, and then asked, ‘Weren’t you one of the prisoners in the Cabildo?’ ‘You know very well I was, and in chains, too,’ says he. ‘And under a fine of fifteen thousand dollars?’ He coloured, sir, because it got about that he fainted from fright when they came to arrest him, and then behaved before Fuentes in a manner to make the very policianos, who had dragged him there by the hair of his head, smile at his cringing122. ‘Yes,’ he says, in a sort of shy way. ‘Why?’ ‘Oh, nothing. You stood to lose a tidy bit,’ says I, ‘even if you saved your life. . . . But what can I do for you?’ He never even saw the point. Not he. And that’s how the world wags, sir.”
He rose a little stiffly, and the drive to Rincon would be taken with only one philosophical123 remark, uttered by the merciless cicerone, with his eyes fixed124 upon the lights of San Tome, that seemed suspended in the dark night between earth and heaven.
“A great power, this, for good and evil, sir. A great power.”
And the dinner of the Mirliflores would be eaten, excellent as to cooking, and leaving upon the traveller’s mind an impression that there were in Sulaco many pleasant, able young men with salaries apparently125 too large for their discretion126, and amongst them a few, mostly Anglo-Saxon, skilled in the art of, as the saying is, “taking a rise” out of his kind host.
With a rapid, jingling127 drive to the harbour in a twowheeled machine (which Captain Mitchell called a curricle) behind a fleet and scraggy mule41 beaten all the time by an obviously Neapolitan driver, the cycle would be nearly closed before the lighted-up offices of the O. S. N. Company, remaining open so late because of the steamer. Nearly — but not quite.
“Ten o’clock. Your ship won’t be ready to leave till half-past twelve, if by then. Come in for a brandy-and-soda and one more cigar.”
And in the superintendent’s private room the privileged passenger by the Ceres, or Juno, or Pallas, stunned128 and as it were annihilated129 mentally by a sudden surfeit130 of sights, sounds, names, facts, and complicated information imperfectly apprehended131, would listen like a tired child to a fairy tale; would hear a voice, familiar and surprising in its pompousness132, tell him, as if from another world, how there was “in this very harbour” an international naval133 demonstration134, which put an end to the Costaguana-Sulaco War. How the United States cruiser, Powhattan, was the first to salute135 the Occidental flag — white, with a wreath of green laurel in the middle encircling a yellow amarilla flower. Would hear how General Montero, in less than a month after proclaiming himself Emperor of Costaguana, was shot dead (during a solemn and public distribution of orders and crosses) by a young artillery136 officer, the brother of his then mistress.
“The abominable137 Pedrito, sir, fled the country,” the voice would say. And it would continue: “A captain of one of our ships told me lately that he recognized Pedrito the Guerrillero, arrayed in purple slippers138 and a velvet139 smoking-cap with a gold tassel140, keeping a disorderly house in one of the southern ports.”
“Abominable Pedrito! Who the devil was he?” would wonder the distinguished bird of passage hovering142 on the confines of waking and sleep with resolutely143 open eyes and a faint but amiable144 curl upon his lips, from between which stuck out the eighteenth or twentieth cigar of that memorable day.
“He appeared to me in this very room like a haunting ghost, sir”— Captain Mitchell was talking of his Nostromo with true warmth of feeling and a touch of wistful pride. “You may imagine, sir, what an effect it produced on me. He had come round by sea with Barrios, of course. And the first thing he told me after I became fit to hear him was that he had picked up the lighter10’s boat floating in the gulf145! He seemed quite overcome by the circumstance. And a remarkable enough circumstance it was, when you remember that it was then sixteen days since the sinking of the silver. At once I could see he was another man. He stared at the wall, sir, as if there had been a spider or something running about there. The loss of the silver preyed146 on his mind. The first thing he asked me about was whether Dona Antonia had heard yet of Decoud’s death. His voice trembled. I had to tell him that Dona Antonia, as a matter of fact, was not back in town yet. Poor girl! And just as I was making ready to ask him a thousand questions, with a sudden, ‘Pardon me, senor,’ he cleared out of the office altogether. I did not see him again for three days. I was terribly busy, you know. It seems that he wandered about in and out of the town, and on two nights turned up to sleep in the baracoons of the railway people. He seemed absolutely indifferent to what went on. I asked him on the wharf, ‘When are you going to take hold again, Nostromo? There will be plenty of work for the Cargadores presently.’
“‘Senor,’ says he, looking at me in a slow, inquisitive147 manner, ‘would it surprise you to hear that I am too tired to work just yet? And what work could I do now? How can I look my Cargadores in the face after losing a lighter?’
“I begged him not to think any more about the silver, and he smiled. A smile that went to my heart, sir. ‘It was no mistake,’ I told him. ‘It was a fatality148. A thing that could not be helped.’ ‘Si, si!” he said, and turned away. I thought it best to leave him alone for a bit to get over it. Sir, it took him years really, to get over it. I was present at his interview with Don Carlos. I must say that Gould is rather a cold man. He had to keep a tight hand on his feelings, dealing149 with thieves and rascals150, in constant danger of ruin for himself and wife for so many years, that it had become a second nature. They looked at each other for a long time. Don Carlos asked what he could do for him, in his quiet, reserved way.
“‘My name is known from one end of Sulaco to the other,’ he said, as quiet as the other. ‘What more can you do for me?’ That was all that passed on that occasion. Later, however, there was a very fine coasting schooner151 for sale, and Mrs. Gould and I put our heads together to get her bought and presented to him. It was done, but he paid all the price back within the next three years. Business was booming all along this seaboard, sir. Moreover, that man always succeeded in everything except in saving the silver. Poor Dona Antonia, fresh from her terrible experiences in the woods of Los Hatos, had an interview with him, too. Wanted to hear about Decoud: what they said, what they did, what they thought up to the last on that fatal night. Mrs. Gould told me his manner was perfect for quietness and sympathy. Miss Avellanos burst into tears only when he told her how Decoud had happened to say that his plan would be a glorious success. . . . And there’s no doubt, sir, that it is. It is a success.”
The cycle was about to close at last. And while the privileged passenger, shivering with the pleasant anticipations152 of his berth153, forgot to ask himself, “What on earth Decoud’s plan could be?” Captain Mitchell was saying, “Sorry we must part so soon. Your intelligent interest made this a pleasant day to me. I shall see you now on board. You had a glimpse of the ‘Treasure House of the World.’ A very good name that.” And the coxswain’s voice at the door, announcing that the gig was ready, closed the cycle.
Nostromo had, indeed, found the lighter’s boat, which he had left on the Great Isabel with Decoud, floating empty far out in the gulf. He was then on the bridge of the first of Barrios’s transports, and within an hour’s steaming from Sulaco. Barrios, always delighted with a feat of daring and a good judge of courage, had taken a great liking154 to the Capataz. During the passage round the coast the General kept Nostromo near his person, addressing him frequently in that abrupt155 and boisterous156 manner which was the sign of his high favour.
Nostromo’s eyes were the first to catch, broad on the bow, the tiny, elusive157 dark speck158, which, alone with the forms of the Three Isabels right ahead, appeared on the flat, shimmering159 emptiness of the gulf. There are times when no fact should be neglected as insignificant160; a small boat so far from the land might have had some meaning worth finding out. At a nod of consent from Barrios the transport swept out of her course, passing near enough to ascertain161 that no one manned the little cockle-shell. It was merely a common small boat gone adrift with her oars162 in her. But Nostromo, to whose mind Decoud had been insistently163 present for days, had long before recognized with excitement the dinghy of the lighter.
There could be no question of stopping to pick up that thing. Every minute of time was momentous164 with the lives and futures165 of a whole town. The head of the leading ship, with the General on board, fell off to her course. Behind her, the fleet of transports, scattered166 haphazard167 over a mile or so in the offing, like the finish of an ocean race, pressed on, all black and smoking on the western sky.
“Mi General,” Nostromo’s voice rang out loud, but quiet, from behind a group of officers, “I should like to save that little boat. Por Dios, I know her. She belongs to my Company.”
“And, por Dios,” guffawed168 Barrios, in a noisy, goodhumoured voice, “you belong to me. I am going to make you a captain of cavalry directly we get within sight of a horse again.”
“I can swim far better than I can ride, mi General,” cried Nostromo, pushing through to the rail with a set stare in his eyes. “Let me ——”
“Let you? What a conceited171 fellow that is,” bantered172 the General, jovially173, without even looking at him. “Let him go! Ha! ha! ha! He wants me to admit that we cannot take Sulaco without him! Ha! ha! ha! Would you like to swim off to her, my son?”
A tremendous shout from one end of the ship to the other stopped his guffaw169. Nostromo had leaped overboard; and his black head bobbed up far away already from the ship. The General muttered an appalled174 “Cielo! Sinner that I am!” in a thunderstruck tone. One anxious glance was enough to show him that Nostromo was swimming with perfect ease; and then he thundered terribly, “No! no! We shall not stop to pick up this impertinent fellow. Let him drown — that mad Capataz.”
Nothing short of main force would have kept Nostromo from leaping overboard. That empty boat, coming out to meet him mysteriously, as if rowed by an invisible spectre, exercised the fascination175 of some sign, of some warning, seemed to answer in a startling and enigmatic way the persistent176 thought of a treasure and of a man’s fate. He would have leaped if there had been death in that half-mile of water. It was as smooth as a pond, and for some reason sharks are unknown in the Placid Gulf, though on the other side of the Punta Mala the coastline swarms177 with them.
The Capataz seized hold of the stern and blew with force. A queer, faint feeling had come over him while he swam. He had got rid of his boots and coat in the water. He hung on for a time, regaining178 his breath. In the distance the transports, more in a bunch now, held on straight for Sulaco, with their air of friendly contest, of nautical179 sport, of a regatta; and the united smoke of their funnels180 drove like a thin, sulphurous fogbank right over his head. It was his daring, his courage, his act that had set these ships in motion upon the sea, hurrying on to save the lives and fortunes of the Blancos, the taskmasters of the people; to save the San Tome mine; to save the children.
With a vigorous and skilful181 effort he clambered over the stern. The very boat! No doubt of it; no doubt whatever. It was the dinghy of the lighter No. 3 — the dinghy left with Martin Decoud on the Great Isabel so that he should have some means to help himself if nothing could be done for him from the shore. And here she had come out to meet him empty and inexplicable182. What had become of Decoud? The Capataz made a minute examination. He looked for some scratch, for some mark, for some sign. All he discovered was a brown stain on the gunwale abreast of the thwart183. He bent29 his face over it and rubbed hard with his finger. Then he sat down in the stern sheets, passive, with his knees close together and legs aslant184.
Streaming from head to foot, with his hair and whiskers hanging lank185 and dripping and a lustreless186 stare fixed upon the bottom boards, the Capataz of the Sulaco Cargadores resembled a drowned corpse187 come up from the bottom to idle away the sunset hour in a small boat. The excitement of his adventurous188 ride, the excitement of the return in time, of achievement, of success, all this excitement centred round the associated ideas of the great treasure and of the only other man who knew of its existence, had departed from him. To the very last moment he had been cudgelling his brains as to how he could manage to visit the Great Isabel without loss of time and undetected. For the idea of secrecy189 had come to be connected with the treasure so closely that even to Barrios himself he had refrained from mentioning the existence of Decoud and of the silver on the island. The letters he carried to the General, however, made brief mention of the loss of the lighter, as having its bearing upon the situation in Sulaco. In the circumstances, the one-eyed tiger-slayer, scenting190 battle from afar, had not wasted his time in making inquiries191 from the messenger. In fact, Barrios, talking with Nostromo, assumed that both Don Martin Decoud and the ingots of San Tome were lost together, and Nostromo, not questioned directly, had kept silent, under the influence of some indefinable form of resentment192 and distrust. Let Don Martin speak of everything with his own lips — was what he told himself mentally.
And now, with the means of gaining the Great Isabel thrown thus in his way at the earliest possible moment, his excitement had departed, as when the soul takes flight leaving the body inert193 upon an earth it knows no more. Nostromo did not seem to know the gulf. For a long time even his eyelids did not flutter once upon the glazed194 emptiness of his stare. Then slowly, without a limb having stirred, without a twitch195 of muscle or quiver of an eyelash, an expression, a living expression came upon the still features, deep thought crept into the empty stare — as if an outcast soul, a quiet, brooding soul, finding that untenanted body in its way, had come in stealthily to take possession.
The Capataz frowned: and in the immense stillness of sea, islands, and coast, of cloud forms on the sky and trails of light upon the water, the knitting of that brow had the emphasis of a powerful gesture. Nothing else budged196 for a long time; then the Capataz shook his head and again surrendered himself to the universal repose197 of all visible things. Suddenly he seized the oars, and with one movement made the dinghy spin round, head-on to the Great Isabel. But before he began to pull he bent once more over the brown stain on the gunwale.
“I know that thing,” he muttered to himself, with a sagacious jerk of the head. “That’s blood.”
His stroke was long, vigorous, and steady. Now and then he looked over his shoulder at the Great Isabel, presenting its low cliff to his anxious gaze like an impenetrable face. At last the stem touched the strand198. He flung rather than dragged the boat up the little beach. At once, turning his back upon the sunset, he plunged199 with long strides into the ravine, making the water of the stream spurt200 and fly upwards201 at every step, as if spurning202 its shallow, clear, murmuring spirit with his feet. He wanted to save every moment of daylight.
A mass of earth, grass, and smashed bushes had fallen down very naturally from above upon the cavity under the leaning tree. Decoud had attended to the concealment203 of the silver as instructed, using the spade with some intelligence. But Nostromo’s half-smile of approval changed into a scornful curl of the lip by the sight of the spade itself flung there in full view, as if in utter carelessness or sudden panic, giving away the whole thing. Ah! They were all alike in their folly204, these hombres finos that invented laws and governments and barren tasks for the people.
The Capataz picked up the spade, and with the feel of the handle in his palm the desire of having a look at the horse-hide boxes of treasure came upon him suddenly. In a very few strokes he uncovered the edges and corners of several; then, clearing away more earth, became aware that one of them had been slashed205 with a knife.
He exclaimed at that discovery in a stifled206 voice, and dropped on his knees with a look of irrational207 apprehension208 over one shoulder, then over the other. The stiff hide had closed, and he hesitated before he pushed his hand through the long slit209 and felt the ingots inside. There they were. One, two, three. Yes, four gone. Taken away. Four ingots. But who? Decoud? Nobody else. And why? For what purpose? For what cursed fancy? Let him explain. Four ingots carried off in a boat, and — blood!
In the face of the open gulf, the sun, clear, unclouded, unaltered, plunged into the waters in a grave and untroubled mystery of self-immolation consummated210 far from all mortal eyes, with an infinite majesty211 of silence and peace. Four ingots short! — and blood!
The Capataz got up slowly.
“He might simply have cut his hand,” he muttered. “But, then ——”
He sat down on the soft earth, unresisting, as if he had been chained to the treasure, his drawn-up legs clasped in his hands with an air of hopeless submission212, like a slave set on guard. Once only he lifted his head smartly: the rattle213 of hot musketry fire had reached his ears, like pouring from on high a stream of dry peas upon a drum. After listening for a while, he said, half aloud —
“He will never come back to explain.”
And he lowered his head again.
“Impossible!” he muttered, gloomily.
The sounds of firing died out. The loom214 of a great conflagration215 in Sulaco flashed up red above the coast, played on the clouds at the head of the gulf, seemed to touch with a ruddy and sinister216 reflection the forms of the Three Isabels. He never saw it, though he raised his head.
“But, then, I cannot know,” he pronounced, distinctly, and remained silent and staring for hours.
He could not know. Nobody was to know. As might have been supposed, the end of Don Martin Decoud never became a subject of speculation217 for any one except Nostromo. Had the truth of the facts been known, there would always have remained the question. Why? Whereas the version of his death at the sinking of the lighter had no uncertainty218 of motive96. The young apostle of Separation had died striving for his idea by an ever-lamented accident. But the truth was that he died from solitude219, the enemy known but to few on this earth, and whom only the simplest of us are fit to withstand. The brilliant Costaguanero of the boulevards had died from solitude and want of faith in himself and others.
For some good and valid220 reasons beyond mere human comprehension, the sea-birds of the gulf shun221 the Isabels. The rocky head of Azuera is their haunt, whose stony222 levels and chasms223 resound224 with their wild and tumultuous clamour as if they were for ever quarrelling over the legendary225 treasure.
At the end of his first day on the Great Isabel, Decoud, turning in his lair226 of coarse grass, under the shade of a tree, said to himself —
“I have not seen as much as one single bird all day.”
And he had not heard a sound, either, all day but that one now of his own muttering voice. It had been a day of absolute silence — the first he had known in his life. And he had not slept a wink101. Not for all these wakeful nights and the days of fighting, planning, talking; not for all that last night of danger and hard physical toil227 upon the gulf, had he been able to close his eyes for a moment. And yet from sunrise to sunset he had been lying prone228 on the ground, either on his back or on his face.
He stretched himself, and with slow steps descended229 into the gully to spend the night by the side of the silver. If Nostromo returned — as he might have done at any moment — it was there that he would look first; and night would, of course, be the proper time for an attempt to communicate. He remembered with profound indifference230 that he had not eaten anything yet since he had been left alone on the island.
He spent the night open-eyed, and when the day broke he ate something with the same indifference. The brilliant “Son Decoud,” the spoiled darling of the family, the lover of Antonia and journalist of Sulaco, was not fit to grapple with himself single-handed. Solitude from mere outward condition of existence becomes very swiftly a state of soul in which the affectations of irony231 and scepticism have no place. It takes possession of the mind, and drives forth232 the thought into the exile of utter unbelief. After three days of waiting for the sight of some human face, Decoud caught himself entertaining a doubt of his own individuality. It had merged233 into the world of cloud and water, of natural forces and forms of nature. In our activity alone do we find the sustaining illusion of an independent existence as against the whole scheme of things of which we form a helpless part. Decoud lost all belief in the reality of his action past and to come. On the fifth day an immense melancholy234 descended upon him palpably. He resolved not to give himself up to these people in Sulaco, who had beset235 him, unreal and terrible, like jibbering and obscene spectres. He saw himself struggling feebly in their midst, and Antonia, gigantic and lovely like an allegorical statue, looking on with scornful eyes at his weakness.
Not a living being, not a speck of distant sail, appeared within the range of his vision; and, as if to escape from this solitude, he absorbed himself in his melancholy. The vague consciousness of a misdirected life given up to impulses whose memory left a bitter taste in his mouth was the first moral sentiment of his manhood. But at the same time he felt no remorse236. What should he regret? He had recognized no other virtue237 than intelligence, and had erected238 passions into duties. Both his intelligence and his passion were swallowed up easily in this great unbroken solitude of waiting without faith. Sleeplessness239 had robbed his will of all energy, for he had not slept seven hours in the seven days. His sadness was the sadness of a sceptical mind. He beheld the universe as a succession of incomprehensible images. Nostromo was dead. Everything had failed ignominiously241. He no longer dared to think of Antonia. She had not survived. But if she survived he could not face her. And all exertion242 seemed senseless.
On the tenth day, after a night spent without even dozing243 off once (it had occurred to him that Antonia could not possibly have ever loved a being so impalpable as himself), the solitude appeared like a great void, and the silence of the gulf like a tense, thin cord to which he hung suspended by both hands, without fear, without surprise, without any sort of emotion whatever. Only towards the evening, in the comparative relief of coolness, he began to wish that this cord would snap. He imagined it snapping with a report as of a pistol — a sharp, full crack. And that would be the end of him. He contemplated244 that eventuality with pleasure, because he dreaded245 the sleepless240 nights in which the silence, remaining unbroken in the shape of a cord to which he hung with both hands, vibrated with senseless phrases, always the same but utterly246 incomprehensible, about Nostromo, Antonia, Barrios, and proclamations mingled247 into an ironical248 and senseless buzzing. In the daytime he could look at the silence like a still cord stretched to breakingpoint, with his life, his vain life, suspended to it like a weight.
“I wonder whether I would hear it snap before I fell,” he asked himself.
The sun was two hours above the horizon when he got up, gaunt, dirty, white-faced, and looked at it with his red-rimmed eyes. His limbs obeyed him slowly, as if full of lead, yet without tremor249; and the effect of that physical condition gave to his movements an unhesitating, deliberate dignity. He acted as if accomplishing some sort of rite250. He descended into the gully; for the fascination of all that silver, with its potential power, survived alone outside of himself. He picked up the belt with the revolver, that was lying there, and buckled251 it round his waist. The cord of silence could never snap on the island. It must let him fall and sink into the sea, he thought. And sink! He was looking at the loose earth covering the treasure. In the sea! His aspect was that of a somnambulist. He lowered himself down on his knees slowly and went on grubbing with his fingers with industrious252 patience till he uncovered one of the boxes. Without a pause, as if doing some work done many times before, he slit it open and took four ingots, which he put in his pockets. He covered up the exposed box again and step by step came out of the gully. The bushes closed after him with a swish.
It was on the third day of his solitude that he had dragged the dinghy near the water with an idea of rowing away somewhere, but had desisted partly at the whisper of lingering hope that Nostromo would return, partly from conviction of utter uselessness of all effort. Now she wanted only a slight shove to be set afloat. He had eaten a little every day after the first, and had some muscular strength left yet. Taking up the oars slowly, he pulled away from the cliff of the Great Isabel, that stood behind him warm with sunshine, as if with the heat of life, bathed in a rich light from head to foot as if in a radiance of hope and joy. He pulled straight towards the setting sun. When the gulf had grown dark, he ceased rowing and flung the sculls in. The hollow clatter253 they made in falling was the loudest noise he had ever heard in his life. It was a revelation. It seemed to recall him from far away, Actually the thought, “Perhaps I may sleep to-night,” passed through his mind. But he did not believe it. He believed in nothing; and he remained sitting on the thwart.
The dawn from behind the mountains put a gleam into his unwinking eyes. After a clear daybreak the sun appeared splendidly above the peaks of the range. The great gulf burst into a glitter all around the boat; and in this glory of merciless solitude the silence appeared again before him, stretched taut254 like a dark, thin string.
His eyes looked at it while, without haste, he shifted his seat from the thwart to the gunwale. They looked at it fixedly255, while his hand, feeling about his waist, unbuttoned the flap of the leather case, drew the revolver, cocked it, brought it forward pointing at his breast, pulled the trigger, and, with convulsive force, sent the still-smoking weapon hurtling through the air. His eyes looked at it while he fell forward and hung with his breast on the gunwale and the fingers of his right hand hooked under the thwart. They looked ——
“It is done,” he stammered256 out, in a sudden flow of blood. His last thought was: “I wonder how that Capataz died.” The stiffness of the fingers relaxed, and the lover of Antonia Avellanos rolled overboard without having heard the cord of silence snap in the solitude of the Placid Gulf, whose glittering surface remained untroubled by the fall of his body.
A victim of the disillusioned257 weariness which is the retribution meted258 out to intellectual audacity259, the brilliant Don Martin Decoud, weighted by the bars of San Tome silver, disappeared without a trace, swallowed up in the immense indifference of things. His sleepless, crouching260 figure was gone from the side of the San Tome silver; and for a time the spirits of good and evil that hover141 near every concealed261 treasure of the earth might have thought that this one had been forgotten by all mankind. Then, after a few days, another form appeared striding away from the setting sun to sit motionless and awake in the narrow black gully all through the night, in nearly the same pose, in the same place in which had sat that other sleepless man who had gone away for ever so quietly in a small boat, about the time of sunset. And the spirits of good and evil that hover about a forbidden treasure understood well that the silver of San Tome was provided now with a faithful and lifelong slave.
The magnificent Capataz de Cargadores, victim of the disenchanted vanity which is the reward of audacious action, sat in the weary pose of a hunted outcast through a night of sleeplessness as tormenting262 as any known to Decoud, his companion in the most desperate affair of his life. And he wondered how Decoud had died. But he knew the part he had played himself. First a woman, then a man, abandoned both in their last extremity263, for the sake of this accursed treasure. It was paid for by a soul lost and by a vanished life. The blank stillness of awe170 was succeeded by a gust264 of immense pride. There was no one in the world but Gian’ Battista Fidanza, Capataz de Cargadores, the incorruptible and faithful Nostromo, to pay such a price.
He had made up his mind that nothing should be allowed now to rob him of his bargain. Nothing. Decoud had died. But how? That he was dead he had not a shadow of a doubt. But four ingots? . . . What for? Did he mean to come for more — some other time?
The treasure was putting forth its latent power. It troubled the clear mind of the man who had paid the price. He was sure that Decoud was dead. The island seemed full of that whisper. Dead! Gone! And he caught himself listening for the swish of bushes and the splash of the footfalls in the bed of the brook265. Dead! The talker, the novio of Dona Antonia!
“Ha!” he murmured, with his head on his knees, under the livid clouded dawn breaking over the liberated266 Sulaco and upon the gulf as gray as ashes. “It is to her that he will fly. To her that he will fly!”
And four ingots! Did he take them in revenge, to cast a spell, like the angry woman who had prophesied267 remorse and failure, and yet had laid upon him the task of saving the children? Well, he had saved the children. He had defeated the spell of poverty and starvation. He had done it all alone — or perhaps helped by the devil. Who cared? He had done it, betrayed as he was, and saving by the same stroke the San Tome mine, which appeared to him hateful and immense, lording it by its vast wealth over the valour, the toil, the fidelity of the poor, over war and peace, over the labours of the town, the sea, and the Campo.
The sun lit up the sky behind the peaks of the Cordillera. The Capataz looked down for a time upon the fall of loose earth, stones, and smashed bushes, concealing268 the hiding-place of the silver.
“I must grow rich very slowly,” he meditated269, aloud.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
northward
|
|
| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
consular
|
|
| a.领事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
stereotyped
|
|
| adj.(指形象、思想、人物等)模式化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
distinguished
|
|
| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
memorable
|
|
| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
attain
|
|
| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
cargo
|
|
| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
regenerated
|
|
| v.新生，再生( regenerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
hospitably
|
|
| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
bishop
|
|
| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
patio
|
|
| n.庭院，平台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
sculptor
|
|
| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
pompously
|
|
| adv.傲慢地，盛大壮观地；大模大样 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
smothered
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
picturesque
|
|
| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
sentry
|
|
| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
gateway
|
|
| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
concession
|
|
| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
consolidated
|
|
| a.联合的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
savings
|
|
| n.存款，储蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
incumbent
|
|
| adj.成为责任的，有义务的；现任的，在职的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
plaza
|
|
| n.广场，市场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
colonnaded
|
|
| adj.有列柱的，有柱廊的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
cymbals
|
|
| pl.铙钹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
ponchos
|
|
| n.斗篷( poncho的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
mules
|
|
| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
mule
|
|
| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
tambourines
|
|
| n.铃鼓，手鼓( tambourine的名词复数 )；（鸣声似铃鼓的）白胸森鸠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
dynamite
|
|
| n./vt.(用)炸药(爆破) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
annihilate
|
|
| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
lining
|
|
| n.衬里，衬料 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
incense
|
|
| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
niche
|
|
| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
aisle
|
|
| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
bust
|
|
| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
inscription
|
|
| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
likeness
|
|
| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
sketch
|
|
| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
commemorates
|
|
| n.纪念，庆祝( commemorate的名词复数 )v.纪念，庆祝( commemorate的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
betrothed
|
|
| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
nuns
|
|
| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
everlastingly
|
|
| 永久地，持久地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
lavish
|
|
| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
leisurely
|
|
| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
placid
|
|
| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
complexions
|
|
| 肤色( complexion的名词复数 )； 面色； 局面； 性质 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
glistening
|
|
| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
sipped
|
|
| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
renowned
|
|
| adj.著名的，有名望的，声誉鹊起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
curiously
|
|
| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
furrowed
|
|
| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
beads
|
|
| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
cavalry
|
|
| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
siesta
|
|
| n.午睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
puffs
|
|
| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
prolific
|
|
| adj.丰富的，大量的；多产的，富有创造力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
relentless
|
|
| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
animation
|
|
| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
negligently
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
snarly
|
|
| adj.善于嚣叫的；脾气坏的；爱谩骂的；纠缠在一起的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
inspector
|
|
| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
recollect
|
|
| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
incubus
|
|
| n.负担；恶梦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
equestrian
|
|
| adj.骑马的；n.马术 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
shaft
|
|
| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
gilt
|
|
| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
engraved
|
|
| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
invitingly
|
|
| adv. 动人地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
evacuated
|
|
| 撤退者的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
feat
|
|
| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
fidelity
|
|
| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
screeching
|
|
| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
abreast
|
|
| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
wink
|
|
| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
runaway
|
|
| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
wharf
|
|
| n.码头，停泊处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
massacres
|
|
| 大屠杀( massacre的名词复数 )； 惨败 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
proscription
|
|
| n.禁止，剥夺权利 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
raving
|
|
| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
foaming
|
|
| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
astounded
|
|
| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
riddled
|
|
| adj.布满的；充斥的；泛滥的v.解谜，出谜题(riddle的过去分词形式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
sieve
|
|
| n.筛，滤器，漏勺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
hoist
|
|
| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
regiment
|
|
| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
shriek
|
|
| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
perjured
|
|
| adj.伪证的，犯伪证罪的v.发假誓，作伪证( perjure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
traitor
|
|
| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
yarn
|
|
| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
ablaze
|
|
| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
anecdote
|
|
| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
junta
|
|
| n.团体；政务审议会 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
promulgated
|
|
| v.宣扬（某事物）( promulgate的过去式和过去分词 )；传播；公布；颁布（法令、新法律等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
cadging
|
|
| v.乞讨，乞得，索取( cadge的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
cringing
|
|
| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
philosophical
|
|
| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
jingling
|
|
| 叮当声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
stunned
|
|
| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
annihilated
|
|
| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的过去式和过去分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
surfeit
|
|
| v.使饮食过度；n.(食物)过量，过度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
apprehended
|
|
| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
pompousness
|
|
| 豪华；傲慢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
133
naval
|
|
| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
demonstration
|
|
| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
salute
|
|
| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
artillery
|
|
| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
abominable
|
|
| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
slippers
|
|
| n. 拖鞋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
tassel
|
|
| n.流苏，穗；v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
hover
|
|
| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
hovering
|
|
| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
resolutely
|
|
| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
gulf
|
|
| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
preyed
|
|
| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
inquisitive
|
|
| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
fatality
|
|
| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
dealing
|
|
| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
rascals
|
|
| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
schooner
|
|
| n.纵帆船 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
anticipations
|
|
| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
berth
|
|
| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
liking
|
|
| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
boisterous
|
|
| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
elusive
|
|
| adj.难以表达(捉摸)的；令人困惑的；逃避的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
speck
|
|
| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
shimmering
|
|
| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
insignificant
|
|
| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
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： |
|
|
|
|
163
insistently
|
|
| ad.坚持地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
momentous
|
|
| adj.重要的，重大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
futures
|
|
| n.期货，期货交易 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
haphazard
|
|
| adj.无计划的，随意的，杂乱无章的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
guffawed
|
|
| v.大笑，狂笑( guffaw的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
guffaw
|
|
| n.哄笑；突然的大笑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
conceited
|
|
| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
bantered
|
|
| v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的过去式和过去分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
jovially
|
|
| adv.愉快地，高兴地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
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： |
|
|
|
|
175
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
persistent
|
|
| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
swarms
|
|
| 蜂群，一大群( swarm的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
regaining
|
|
| 复得( regain的现在分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
nautical
|
|
| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
funnels
|
|
| 漏斗( funnel的名词复数 )； （轮船，火车等的）烟囱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
skilful
|
|
| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
inexplicable
|
|
| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
thwart
|
|
| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
aslant
|
|
| adv.倾斜地；adj.斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
lank
|
|
| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
lustreless
|
|
| adj.无光泽的，无光彩的，平淡乏味的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
adventurous
|
|
| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
scenting
|
|
| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
resentment
|
|
| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
inert
|
|
| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
glazed
|
|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
twitch
|
|
| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
budged
|
|
| v.（使）稍微移动( budge的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）改变主意，（使）让步 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
strand
|
|
| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
spurt
|
|
| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
spurning
|
|
| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
slashed
|
|
| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
stifled
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
irrational
|
|
| adj.无理性的，失去理性的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
slit
|
|
| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
consummated
|
|
| v.使结束( consummate的过去式和过去分词 )；使完美；完婚；（婚礼后的）圆房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
majesty
|
|
| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
submission
|
|
| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
rattle
|
|
| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
loom
|
|
| n.织布机，织机；v.隐现，(危险、忧虑等)迫近 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
conflagration
|
|
| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
sinister
|
|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
speculation
|
|
| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
valid
|
|
| adj.有确实根据的；有效的；正当的，合法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
shun
|
|
| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
stony
|
|
| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
chasms
|
|
| 裂缝( chasm的名词复数 )； 裂口； 分歧； 差别 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
resound
|
|
| v.回响 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
legendary
|
|
| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
lair
|
|
| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
toil
|
|
| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
prone
|
|
| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
irony
|
|
| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
merged
|
|
| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
remorse
|
|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
ERECTED
|
|
| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
sleeplessness
|
|
| n.失眠，警觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
sleepless
|
|
| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
ignominiously
|
|
| adv.耻辱地，屈辱地，丢脸地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
exertion
|
|
| n.尽力，努力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
dozing
|
|
| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
contemplated
|
|
| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
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： |
|
|
|
|
248
ironical
|
|
| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
tremor
|
|
| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
250
rite
|
|
| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
buckled
|
|
| a. 有带扣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
industrious
|
|
| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
253
clatter
|
|
| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
taut
|
|
| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
stammered
|
|
| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
disillusioned
|
|
| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
meted
|
|
| v.（对某人）施以，给予（处罚等）( mete的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
audacity
|
|
| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
crouching
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
tormenting
|
|
| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
gust
|
|
| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
liberated
|
|
| a.无拘束的，放纵的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
267
prophesied
|
|
| v.预告，预言( prophesy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
concealing
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
meditated
|
|
| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |