“Get in! get in!”
“But how the devil, que! am I to get in? the places are full . . . they won’t make room for me.”
This was said at the extreme end of the lake of the Four Cantons, on that shore at Alpnach, damp and soggy as a delta3, where the post-carriages wait in line to convey tourists leaving the boat to cross the Brünig.
A fine rain like needle-points had been falling since morning; and the worthy4 Tartarin, hampered5 by his armament, hustled6 by the porters and the custom-house officials, ran from carriage to carriage, sonorous7 and lumbering8 as that orchestra-man one sees at fairs, whose every movement sets a-going triangles, big drums, Chinese bells, and cymbals9. At all the doors the same cry of terror, the same crabbed10 “Full!” growled11 in all dialects, the same swelling12-out of bodies and garments to take as much room as possible and prevent the entrance of so dangerous and resounding13 a companion.
The unfortunate Alpinist puffed14, sweated, and replied with ”Coquin de bon sort!“ and despairing gestures to the impatient clamour of the convoy15: “En route!.. All right!.. Andiamo!.. Vorwarts!..” The horses pawed, the drivers swore. Finally, the manager of the post-route, a tall, ruddy fellow in a tunic16 and flat cap, interfered17 himself, and opening forcibly the door of a landau, the top of which was half up, he pushed in Tartarin, hoisting18 him like a bundle, and then stood, majestically19, with outstretched hand for his trinkgeld.
Humiliated20, furious with the people in the carriage who were forced to accept him manu militari, Tartarin affected21 not to look at them, rammed22 his porte-monnaie back into his pocket, wedged his ice-axe on one side of him with ill-humoured motions and an air of determined23 brutality24, as if he were a passenger by the Dover steamer landing at Calais.
“Good-morning, monsieur,” said a gentle voice he had heard already.
He raised his eyes, and sat horrified25, terrified before the pretty, round and rosy26 face of Sonia, seated directly in front of him, beneath the hood27 of the landau, which also sheltered a tall young man, wrapped in shawls and rugs, of whom nothing could be seen but a forehead of livid paleness and a few thin meshes28 of hair, golden like the rim29 of his near-sighted spectacles. A third person, whom Tartarin knew but too well, accompanied them — Manilof, the incendiary of the Winter Palace.
Sonia, Manilof, what a mouse-trap!
This was the moment when they meant to accomplish their threat, on that Brünig pass, so craggy, so surrounded with abysses. And the hero, by one of those flashes of horror which reveal the depths of danger, beheld30 himself stretched on the rocks of a ravine, or swinging from the topmost branches of an oak. Fly! yes, but where, how? The vehicles had started in file at the sound of a trumpet31, a crowd of little ragamuffins were clambering at the doors with bunches of edelweiss. Tartarin, maddened, had a mind to begin the attack by cleaving32 the head of the Cossack beside him with his alpenstock; then, on reflection, he felt it was more prudent33 to refrain. Evidently, these people would not attempt their scheme till farther on, in regions uninhabited, and before that, there might come means of getting out. Besides, their intentions no longer seemed to him quite so malevolent34. Sonia smiled gently upon him from her pretty turquoise35 eyes, the pale young man looked pleasantly at him, and Manilof, visibly milder, moved obligingly aside and helped him to put his bag between them. Had they discovered their mistake by reading on the register of the Rigi-Kulm the illustrious name of Tartarin?.. He wished to make sure, and, familiarly, good-humouredly, he began:—
“Enchanted with this meeting, beautiful young lady . . . only, permit me to introduce myself . . . you are ignorant with whom you have to do, vé! whereas, I am perfectly36 aware who you are.”
“Hush!” said the little Sonia, still smiling, but pointing with her gloved finger to the seat beside the driver, where sat the tenor with his sleeve-buttons, and another young Russian, sheltering themselves under the same umbrella, and laughing and talking in Italian.
Between the police and the Nihilists, Tartarin did not hesitate.
“Do you know that man, au mouain?“ he said in a low voice, putting his head quite close to Sonia’s fresh cheeks, and seeing himself in her clear eyes, which suddenly turned hard and savage37 as she answered “yes,” with a snap of their lids.
The hero shuddered38, but as one shudders39 at the theatre, with that delightful40 creeping of the epidermis41 which takes you when the action becomes Corsican, and you settle yourself in your seat to see and to listen more attentively42. Personally out of the affair, delivered from the mortal terrors which had haunted him all night and prevented him from swallowing his usual Swiss coffee, honey, and butter, he breathed with free lungs, thought life good, and this little Russian irresistibly43 pleasing in her travelling hat, her jersey44 close to the throat, tight to the arms, and moulding her slender figure of perfect elegance45. And such a child! Child in the candour of her laugh, in the down upon her cheeks, in the pretty grace with which she spread her shawl upon the knees of her poor brother. “Are you comfortable?..” “You are not cold?” How could any one suppose that little hand, so delicate beneath its chamois glove, had had the physical force and the moral courage to kill a man?
Nor did the others of the party seem ferocious46: all had the same ingenuous47 laugh, rather constrained48 and sad on the drawn49 lips of the poor invalid50, and noisy in Manilof, who, very young behind his bushy beard, gave way to explosions of mirth like a schoolboy in his holidays, bursts of a gayety that was really exuberant51.
The third companion, whom they called Boli-bine, and who talked on the box with the tenor, amused himself much and was constantly turning back to translate to his friends the Italian’s adventures, his successes at the Petersburg Opera, his bonnes fortunes, the sleeve-buttons the ladies had subscribed52 to present to him on his departure, extraordinary buttons, with, three notes of music engraved53 thereon, la do ré (l’adoré), which professional pun, repeated in the landau, caused such delight, the tenor himself swelling up with pride and twirling his moustache with so silly and conquering a look at Sonia, that Tartarin began to ask himself whether, after all, they were not mere54 tourists, and he a genuine tenor.
Meantime the carriages, going at a good pace, rolled over bridges, skirted little lakes and flowery meads, and fine vineyards running with water and deserted55; for it was Sunday, and all the peasants whom they met wore their gala costumes, the women with long braids of hair hanging down their backs and silver chainlets. They began at last to mount the road in zigzags57 among forests of oak and beech58; little by little the marvellous horizon displayed itself on the left; at each turn of the zigzag56, rivers, valleys with their spires59 pointing upward came into view, and far away in the distance, the hoary60 head of the Finsteraarhorn, whitening beneath an invisible sun.
Soon the road became gloomy, the aspect savage. On one side, heavy shadows, a chaos61 of trees, twisted and gnarled on a steep slope, down which foamed62 a torrent63 noisily; to right, an enormous rock overhanging the road and bristling64 with branches that sprouted65 from its fissures66.
They laughed no more in the landau; but they all admired, raising their heads and trying to see the summit of this tunnel of granite67.
“The forests of Atlas68!.. I seem to see them again . . . ” said Tartarin, gravely, and then, as the remark passed unnoticed, he added: “Without the lion’s roar, however.”
“You have heard it, monsieur?” asked Sonia.
Heard the lion, he!.. Then, with an indulgent smile: “I am Tartarin of Tarascon, mademoiselle . . . ”
And just see what such barbarians69 are! He might have said, “My name is Dupont;” it would have been exactly the same thing to them. They were ignorant of the name of Tartarin!
Nevertheless, he was not angry, and he answered the young lady, who wished to know if the lion’s roar had frightened him: “No, mademoiselle . . . My camel trembled between my legs, but I looked to my priming as tranquilly70 as before a herd71 of cows . . . At a distance their cry is much the same, like this, té!“
To give Sonia an exact impression of the thing, he bellowed72 in his most sonorous voice a formidable “Meuh . . . ” which swelled73, spread, echoed and reechoed against the rock. The horses reared; in all the carriages the travellers sprang up alarmed, looking round for the accident, the cause of such an uproar74; but recognizing the Alpinist, whose head and overwhelming accoutrements could be seen in the uncovered half of the landau, they asked themselves once more: “Who is that animal?”
He, very calm, continued to give details: when to attack the beast, where to strike him, how to despatch75 him, and about the diamond sight he affixed76 to his carbines to enable him to aim correctly in the darkness. The young girl listened to him, leaning forward with a little panting of the nostrils78, in deep attention.
“They say that Bombonnel still hunts; do you know him?” asked the brother.
“Yes,” replied Tartarin, without enthusiasm . . . “He is not a clumsy fellow, but we have better than he.”
A word to the wise! Then in a melancholy79 tone, ”Pas mouain, they give us strong emotions, these hunts of the great carnivora. When we have them no longer life seems empty; we do not know how to fill it.”
Here Manilof, who understood French without speaking it, and seemed to be listening to Tartarin very intently, his peasant forehead slashed80 with the wrinkle of a great scar, said a few words, laughing, to his friends.
“Manilof says we are all of the same brotherhood81,” explained Sonia to Tartarin . . . “We hunt, like you, the great wild beasts.”
“Té! yes, pardi . . . wolves, white bears . . . ”
“Yes, wolves, white bears, and other noxious82 animals . . . ”
And the laughing began again, noisy, interminable, but in a sharp, ferocious key this time, laughs that showed their teeth and reminded Tartarin in what sad and singular company he was travelling.
Suddenly the carriages stopped. The road became steeper and made at this spot a long circuit to reach the top of the Brünig pass, which could also be reached on foot in twenty minutes less time through a noble forest of birches. In spite of the rain in the morning, making the earth sodden83 and slippery, the tourists nearly all left the carriages and started, single file, along the narrow path called a schlittage.
From Tartarin’s landau, the last in line, all the men got out; but Sonia, thinking the path too muddy, settled herself back in the carriage, and as the Alpinist was getting out with the rest, a little delayed by his equipments, she said to him in a low voice: “Stay! keep me company . . . ” in such a coaxing84 way! The poor man, quite overcome, began immediately to forge a romance, as delightful as it was improbable, which made his old heart beat and throb85.
He was quickly undeceived when he saw the young girl leaning anxiously forward to watch Bolibine and the Italian, who were talking eagerly together at the opening of the path, Manilof and Boris having already gone forward. The so-called tenor hesitated. An instinct seemed to warn him not to risk himself alone in company with those three men. He decided86 at last to go on, and Sonia looked at him as he mounted the path, all the while stroking her cheek with a bouquet87 of purple cyclamen, those mountain violets, the leaf of which is lined with the same fresh colour as the flowers.
The landau proceeded slowly. The driver got down to walk in front with other comrades, and the convoy of more than fifteen empty vehicles, drawn nearer together by the steepness of the road, rolled silently along. Tartarin, greatly agitated88, and foreboding something sinister89, dared not look at his companion, so much did he fear that a word or a look might compel him to be an actor in the drama he felt impending90. But Sonia was paying no attention to him; her eyes were rather fixed77, and she did not cease caressing91 the down of her skin mechanically with the flowers.
“So,” she said at length, “so you know who we are, I and my friends . . . Well, what do you think of us? What do Frenchmen think of us?”
The hero turned pale, then red. He was desirous of not offending by rash or imprudent words such vindictive93 beings; on the other hand, how consort94 with murderers? He got out of it by a metaphor:—
“Différemment, mademoiselle, you were telling me just now that we belonged to the same brotherhood, hunters of hydras and monsters, despots and carnivora . . . It is therefore to a companion of St. Hubert that I now make answer . . . My sentiment is that, even against wild beasts we should use loyal weapons . . . Our Jules Gérard, a famous lion-slayer, employed explosive balls. I myself have never given in to that, I do not use them . . . When I hunted the lion or the panther I planted myself before the beast, face to face, with a good double-barrelled carbine, and pan! pan! a ball in each eye.”
“In each eye!..” repeated Sonia.
“Never did I miss my aim.”
He affirmed it and he believed it.
The young girl looked at him with na?ve admiration95, thinking aloud:—
“That must certainly be the surest way.”
A sudden rending96 of the branches and the underbrush, and the thicket97 parted above them, so quickly and in so feline98 a way that Tartarin, his head now full of hunting adventures, might have thought himself still on the watch in the Zaccar. But Manilof sprang from the slope, noiselessly, and close to the carriage. His small, cunning eyes were shining in a face that was flayed99 by the briers; his beard and his long lank100 hair were streaming with water from the branches. Breathless, holding with his coarse, hairy hands to the doorway101, he spoke102 in Russian to Sonia, who turned instantly to Tartarin and said in a curt103 voice:—
“Your rope . . . quick . . . ”
“My . . . my rope?..” stammered104 the hero.
“Quick, quick . . . you shall have it again in half an hour.”
Offering no other explanation, she helped him with her little gloved hands to divest105 himself of his famous rope made in Avignon. Manilof took the coil, grunting106 with joy; in two bounds he sprang, with the elasticity107 of a wild-cat, into the thicket and disappeared.
“What has happened? What are they going to do?.. He looked ferocious . . . ” murmured Tartaric not daring to utter his whole thought.
Ferocious, Manilof! Ah! how plain it was he did not know him. No human being was ever better, gentler, more compassionate108; and to show Tartarin a trait of that exceptionally kind nature, Sonia, with her clear, blue glance, told him how her friend, having executed a dangerous mandate109 of the Revolutionary Committee and jumped into the sledge110 which awaited him for escape, had threatened the driver to get out, cost what it might, if he persisted in whipping the horse whose fleetness alone could save him.
Tartarin thought the act worthy of antiquity111. Then, having reflected on all the human lives sacrificed by that same Manilof, as conscienceless as an earthquake or a volcano in eruption112, who yet would not let others hurt an animal in his presence, he questioned the young girl with an ingenuous air:—
“Were there many killed by the explosion at the Winter Palace?”
“Too many,” replied Sonia, sadly; “and the only one that ought to have died escaped.”
She remained silent, as if displeased113, looking so pretty, her head lowered, with her long auburn eyelashes sweeping114 her pale rose cheeks. Tartarin, angry with himself for having pained her, was caught once more by that charm of youth and freshness which the strange little creature shed around her.
“So, monsieur, the war that we are making seems to you unjust, inhuman115?” She said it quite close to him in a caress92, as it were, of her breath and her eye; the hero felt himself weakening . . .
“You do not see that all means are good and legitimate116 to deliver a people who groan117 and suffocate118?..”
“No doubt, no doubt . . . ”
The young girl, growing more insistent119 as Tartarin weakened, went on:—
“You spoke just now of a void to be filled; does it not seem to you more noble, more interesting to risk your life for a great cause than to risk it in slaying120 lions or scaling glaciers121?”
“The fact is,” said Tartarin, intoxicated122, losing his head and mad with an irresistible123 desire to take and kiss that ardent124, persuasive125 little hand which she laid upon his arm, as she had done once before, up there, on the Rigi when he put on her shoe. Finally, unable to resist, and seizing the little gloved hand between both his own —
“Listen, Sonia,” he said, in a good hearty126 voice, paternal127 and familiar . . . “Listen, Sonia . . . ”
A sudden stop of the landau interrupted him. They had reached the summit of the Brünig; travellers and drivers were getting into their carriages to catch up lost time and reach, at a gallop128, the next village where the convoy was to breakfast and relay. The three Russians took their places, but that of the Italian tenor remained unoccupied.
“That gentleman got into one of the first carriages,” said Boris to the driver, who asked about him; then, addressing Tartarin, whose uneasiness was visible:—
“We must ask him for your rope; he chose to keep it with him.”
Thereupon, fresh laughter in the landau, and the resumption for poor Tartarin of horrid129 perplexity, not knowing what to think or believe in presence of the good-humour and ingenuous countenances130 of the suspected assassins. Sonia, while wrapping up her invalid in cloaks and plaids, for the air on the summit was all the keener from the rapidity with which the carriages were now driven, related in Russian her conversation with Tartarin, uttering his pan! pan! with a pretty intonation131 which her companions repeated after her, two of them admiring the hero, while Manilof shook his head incredulously.
The relay!
This was on the market-place of a large village, at an old tavern132 with a worm-eaten wooden balcony, and a sign hanging to a rusty133 iron bracket. The file of vehicles stopped, and while the horses were being unharnessed the hungry tourists jumped hurriedly down and rushed into a room on the lower floor, painted green and smelling of mildew134, where the table was laid for twenty guests. Sixty had arrived, and for five minutes nothing could be heard but a frightful135 tumult136, cries, and a vehement137 altercation138 between the Rices and the Prunes139 around the compote-dishes, to the great alarm of the tavern-keeper, who lost his head (as if daily, at the same hour, the same post-carriages did not pass) and bustled140 about his servants, also seized with chronic142 bewilderment — excellent method of serving only half the dishes called for by the carte, and of giving change in a way that made the white sous of Switzerland count for fifty centimes. “Suppose we dine in the carriage,” said Sonia, I annoyed by such confusion; and as no one had time to pay attention to them the young men themselves did the waiting. Manilof returned with a cold leg of mutton, Bolibine with a long loaf of bread and sausages; but the best forager143 was Tartarin. Certainly the opportunity to get away from his companions in the bustle141 of relay ing was a fine one; he might at least have assured himself that the Italian had reappeared; but he never once thought of it, being solely144 preoccupied145 with Sonia’s breakfast, and in showing Manilof and the others how a Tarasconese can manage matters.
When he stepped down the portico146 of the hotel, gravely, with fixed eyes, bearing in his robust147 hands a large tray laden148 with plates, napkins, assorted149 food, and Swiss champagne150 in its gilt-necked bottles, Sonia clapped her hands, and congratulated him.
“How did you manage it?” she said.
“I don’t know . . . somehow, té!.. We are all like that in Tarascon.”
Oh! those happy minutes! That pleasant breakfast opposite to Sonia, almost on his knees, the village market-place, like the scene of an operetta, with clumps151 of green trees, beneath which sparkled the gold ornaments152 and the muslin sleeves of the Swiss girls, walking about, two and two, like dolls!
How good the bread tasted! what savoury sausages! The heavens themselves took part in the scene, and were soft, veiled, clement153; it rained, of course, but so gently, the drops so rare, though just enough to temper the Swiss champagne, always dangerous to Southern heads.
Under the veranda154 of the hotel, a Tyrolian quartette, two giants and two female dwarfs155 in resplendent and heavy rags, looking as if they had escaped from the failure of a theatre at a fair, were mingling156 their throat notes: “aou . . . aou . . . ” with the clinking of plates and glasses. They were ugly, stupid, motionless, straining the cords of their skinny necks. Tartarin thought them delightful, and gave them a handful of sous, to the great amazement157 of the villagers who surrounded the unhorsed landau.
“Vife la Vranze!” quavered a voice in the crowd, from which issued a tall old man, clothed in a singular blue coat with silver buttons, the skirts of which swept the ground; on his head was a gigantic shako, in form like a bucket of sauerkraut, and so weighted by its enormous plume158 that the old man was forced to balance himself with his arms as he walked, like an acrobat159.
“Old soldier . . . Charles X . . . ”
Tartarin, fresh from Bompard’s revelations, began to laugh, and said in a low voice with a wink160 of his eye:—
“Up to that, old fellow . . . ” But even so, he gave him a white sou and poured him out a bumper161, which the old man accepted, laughing, and winking162 himself, though without knowing why. Then, dislodging from a corner of his mouth an enormous china pipe, he raised his glass and drank “to the company,” which confirmed Tartarin in his opinion that here was a colleague of Bompard.
No matter! one toast deserved another. So, standing163 up in the carriage, his glass held high, his voice strong, Tartarin brought tears to his eyes by drinking, first: To France, my country!.. next to hospitable164 Switzerland, which he was happy to honour publicly and thank for the generous welcome she affords to the vanquished165, to the exiled of all lands. Then, lowering his voice and inclining his glass to the companions of his journey, he wished them a quick return to their country, restoration to their family, safe friends, honourable166 careers, and an end to all dissensions; for, he said, it is impossible to spend one’s life in eating each other up.
During the utterance167 of this toast Soma’s brother smiled, cold and sarcastic168 behind his blue spectacles; Manilof, his neck pushed forth169, his swollen170 eyebrows171 emphasizing his wrinkle, seemed to be asking himself if that “big barrel” would soon be done with his gabble, while Bolibine, perched on the box, was twisting his comical yellow face, wrinkled as a Barbary ape, till he looked like one of those villanous little monkeys squatting172 on the shoulders of the Alpinist.
The young girl alone listened to him very seriously, striving to comprehend such a singular type of man. Did he think all that he said? Had he done all that he related? Was he a madman, a comedian173, or simply a gabbler, as Manilof in his quality of man of action insisted, giving to the word a most contemptuous signification.
The answer was given at once. His toast ended, Tartarin had just sat down when a sudden shot, a second, then a third, fired close to the tavern, brought him again to his feet, ears straining and nostrils scenting174 powder.
“Who fired?.. where is it?.. what is happening?..”
In his inventive noddle a whole drama was already defiling175; attack on the convoy by armed bands; opportunity given him to defend the honour and life of that charming young lady. But no! the discharges only came from the Stand, where the youths of the village practise at a mark every Sunday. As the horses were not yet harnessed, Tartarin, as if carelessly, proposed to go and look at them. He had his idea, and Sonia had hers in accepting the proposal. Guided by the old soldier of Charles X. wobbling under his shako, they crossed the market-place, opening the ranks of the crowd, who followed them with curiosity.
Beneath its thatched roof and its square uprights of pine wood the Stand resembled one of our own pistol-galleries at a fair, with this difference, that the amateurs brought their own weapons, breech-loading muskets176 of the oldest pattern, which they managed, however, with some adroitness177. Tar-tarin, his arms crossed, observed the shots, criticised them aloud, gave his advice, but did not fire himself. The Russians watched him, making signs to each other.
“Pan!.. pan!..” sneered178 Bolibine, making the gesture of taking aim and mimicking179 Tartarin’s accent. Tartarin turned round very red, and swelling with anger.
“Parfaitemain, young man . . . Pan!.. pan!.. and as often as you like.”
The time to load an old double-barrelled carbine which must have served several generations of chamois hunters, and — pan!.. pan!.. T is done. Both balls are in the bull’s -eye. Hurrahs of admiration burst forth on all sides. Sonia triumphed. Bolibine laughed no more.
“But that is nothing, that!” said Tartarin; “you shall see . . . ”
The Stand did not suffice him; he looked about for another target, and the crowd recoiled180 alarmed from this strange Alpinist, thick-set, savage-looking and carbine in hand, when they heard him propose to the old guard of Charles X. to break his pipe between his teeth at fifty paces. The old fellow howled in terror and plunged181 into the crowd, his trembling plume remaining visible above their serried182 heads. None the less, Tartarin felt that he must put it somewhere, that ball. ”Té! pardi! as we did at Tarascon!..” And the former cap-hunter pitched his headgear high into the air with all the strength of his double muscles, shot it on the fly, and pierced it. “Bravo!” cried Sonia, sticking into the small hole made by the ball the bouquet of cyclamen with which she had stroked her cheek.
With that charming trophy183 in his cap Tartarin returned to the landau. The trumpet sounded, the convoy started, the horses went rapidly down to Brienz along that marvellous corniche road, blasted in the side of the rock, separated from an abyss of over a thousand feet by single stones a couple of yards apart. But Tartarin was no longer conscious of danger; no longer did he look at the scenery — that Meyringen valley, seen through a light veil of mist, with its river in straight lines, the lake, the villages massing themselves in the distance, and that whole horizon of mountains, of glaciers, blending at times with the clouds, displaced by the turns of the road, lost apparently184, and then returning, like the shifting scenes of a stage.
Softened185 by tender thoughts, the hero admired the sweet child before him, reflecting that glory is only a semi-happiness, that ’tis sad to grow old all alone in your greatness, like Moses, and that this fragile flower of the North transplanted into the little garden at Tarascon would brighten its monotony, and be sweeter to see and breathe than that everlasting186 baobab, arbos gigantea, diminutively187 confined in the mignonette pot. With her childlike eyes, and her broad brow, thoughtful and self-willed, Sonia looked at him, and she, too, dreamed — but who knows what the young girls dream of?
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1
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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delta
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| n.（流的）角洲 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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7
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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cymbals
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crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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resounding
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| adj. 响亮的 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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convoy
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| vt.护送，护卫，护航；n.护送；护送队 | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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hoisting
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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20
humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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21
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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22
rammed
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| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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23
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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24
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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25
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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26
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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27
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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28
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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29
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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30
beheld
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| 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 | |
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31
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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32
cleaving
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| v.劈开，剁开，割开( cleave的现在分词 ) | |
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33
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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34
malevolent
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| adj.有恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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35
turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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36
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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37
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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38
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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39
shudders
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| n.颤动，打颤，战栗( shudder的名词复数 )v.战栗( shudder的第三人称单数 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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40
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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41
epidermis
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| n.表皮 | |
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42
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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43
irresistibly
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| adv.无法抵抗地，不能自持地；极为诱惑人地 | |
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44
jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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45
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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46
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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47
ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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48
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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49
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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50
invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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51
exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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52
subscribed
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| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
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53
engraved
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| 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） | |
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54
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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55
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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56
zigzag
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| n.曲折，之字形；adj.曲折的，锯齿形的；adv.曲折地，成锯齿形地；vt.使曲折；vi.曲折前行 | |
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57
zigzags
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| n.锯齿形的线条、小径等( zigzag的名词复数 )v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的第三人称单数 ) | |
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58
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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59
spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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60
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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61
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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62
foamed
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| 泡沫的 | |
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63
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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64
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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65
sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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66
fissures
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| n.狭长裂缝或裂隙( fissure的名词复数 )；裂伤；分歧；分裂v.裂开( fissure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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67
granite
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|
| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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68
atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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69
barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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70
tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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71
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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72
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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73
swelled
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|
| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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74
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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75
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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76
affixed
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|
| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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77
fixed
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|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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78
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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79
melancholy
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|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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80
slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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81
brotherhood
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|
| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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82
noxious
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|
| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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83
sodden
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|
| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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84
coaxing
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|
| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
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85
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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86
decided
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|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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87
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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88
agitated
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|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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89
sinister
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|
| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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90
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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91
caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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92
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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93
vindictive
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|
| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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94
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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95
admiration
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|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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96
rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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97
thicket
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| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
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98
feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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99
flayed
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| v.痛打( flay的过去式和过去分词 )；把…打得皮开肉绽；剥（通常指动物）的皮；严厉批评 | |
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100
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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101
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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102
spoke
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| 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 | |
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103
curt
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|
| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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104
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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105
divest
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| v.脱去，剥除 | |
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106
grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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107
elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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108
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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109
mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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110
sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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111
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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112
eruption
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| n.火山爆发；（战争等）爆发；（疾病等）发作 | |
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113
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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114
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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115
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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116
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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117
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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118
suffocate
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| vt.使窒息，使缺氧，阻碍；vi.窒息，窒息而亡，阻碍发展 | |
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119
insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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120
slaying
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| 杀戮。 | |
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121
glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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122
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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123
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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124
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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125
persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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126
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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127
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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128
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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129
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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130
countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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131
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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132
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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133
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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134
mildew
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| n.发霉；v.（使）发霉 | |
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135
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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136
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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137
vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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138
altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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139
prunes
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| n.西梅脯，西梅干( prune的名词复数 )v.修剪（树木等）( prune的第三人称单数 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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140
bustled
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|
| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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141
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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142
chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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143
forager
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| n.强征（粮食）者；抢劫者 | |
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144
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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145
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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146
portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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147
robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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148
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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149
assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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150
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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151
clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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152
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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153
clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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154
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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155
dwarfs
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| n.侏儒，矮子（dwarf的复数形式）vt.（使）显得矮小（dwarf的第三人称单数形式） | |
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156
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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157
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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158
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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159
acrobat
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| n.特技演员，杂技演员 | |
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160
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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161
bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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162
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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163
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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164
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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165
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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166
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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167
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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168
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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169
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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170
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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171
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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172
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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173
comedian
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| n.喜剧演员；滑稽演员 | |
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174
scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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175
defiling
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| v.玷污( defile的现在分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
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176
muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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177
adroitness
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178
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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179
mimicking
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的现在分词 )；酷似 | |
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180
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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181
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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182
serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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183
trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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184
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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185
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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186
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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187
diminutively
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| adv.特小地；小型地；仅仅地 | |
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