Soon we were at the camp, to find all busy, and the cook-man preparing the breakfast. It was a very picturesque2 scene, and one that is not easily forgotten. I saw before me the herd3 of splendid cattle, quietly grazing on the excellent herbage that grew abundantly by the creeks4, watched over by statuesque figures of man and horse only dimly seen through the morning mists, each man with a stock whip balanced on his hip5 ready for any emergency; while nearer, a group at the fireside anxiously awaited the call to breakfast. Dick Marsland’s tall figure I perceived standing6 apart from the others, superintending the general proceedings7. All around stretched a green plain, dotted here and there with blue gums, just showing ghostlike through the mist.
I shouted a cheery good-morning to Dick as I came near, and he turned on hearing my call and walked forward with outstretched hand to bid me welcome. As I looked down at him I thought that I had never seen so striking a figure as he presented, with his red Crimea shirt and cord breeches and stout8 leather gaiters, and his broad--brimmed cabbage-tree hat pushed back on his head, while he eternally toyed with his beard, a typical Bushman from top to toe, wiry, alert, and keen, ready to face any difficulty, and possessed9 of a decisive action that told well the nature of his calling.
“Morning to you, Mr. Tregaskis,” he cried, as we shook hands warmly. “You’re one of the right sort. Get early to work is my motto. One can move cattle fifty times better before the sun is high.”
“You’re right there, Dick,” I replied, as I dismounted and handed over my horse to Snowball. “I see you are well on with the breakfast.”
“Yes, you’re just in time. We’ll get ahead with it now, and then we can think about making a move with the cattle, after we have sent on the ration10 cart. Now then, Billy, look alive, man; we shall be asking for dinner before you have given us our breakfast.”
“All right, it’s ready now,” replied the cook-man as he began to help the savoury--smelling concoction11. In a very short space we were all busy sampling the substantial and excellently cooked meal that was set before us. Having finished, blankets were rolled, “billy” cans and other utensils12 stowed away on the ration cart, the cook given his final instructions and sent off, so that a meal might be prepared when we arrived with the cattle at the next camp, the situation of which he was to choose for its general convenience and proximity13 to water.
This very necessary portion of the proceedings having been accomplished14 to Dick’s satisfaction, everything was now ready for the start of the beasts. When we were mounted, Dick gave his orders as to the positions that we were to take up.
I was given the extreme right with my own man, while Dick took the left with one of his men, and two others acted as whippers-in, and Snowball, with another quick hand, was told off to act as galloper16 after stragglers and bolters.
Everything being finally fixed17 up, we tightened18 girths, and Marsland, riding into the mob, cut out a splendid bull as leader and headed him in the direction we wanted to travel; then the whole herd was put on the move, following the bull, who strode with his splendid head thrown well in the air, bellowing19 loudly as if to declare his exalted20 position.
We had all our work cut out to keep the lot going as we wanted them, and many a hard gallop15 was necessary to bring in breakers and stragglers, while the sound of the cracking of twenty-foot stock whips was continually in the air, and I can tell you that there was some pretty good execution done with them, too, for there wasn’t a man amongst us that could not flick21 a blow-fly off a beast’s back with the cracker22, going pretty fast as well.
At noon we halted by a water-hole to give the animals a rest and drink, and take one ourselves, for the first few hours after starting are tiring with a strange mob of cattle.
Very little of interest occurred after we left the water-hole, but we eventually picked up the cook’s camp and found a meal; then made ourselves comfortable for the night, but of course doing turn and turn about as guard over the cattle. After my two hours were done I was not sorry to roll myself in my blankets and fall asleep.
Next day I started off with them until the first rest, when it seemed that we were not necessary any longer, as the beasts had settled down to travel. I therefore said good-bye to Dick, and received his promise to let me hear of his safe arrival with the mob. I was just about to mount my horse when he came near and said:--
“By the way, Mr. Tregaskis, I don’t think I told you the night before last the name of the poor, wretched lady your friend Black desired to make capital out of. I couldn’t recall it at the time I was spinning the yarn24, but it came back to me in a flash to-day. The name on the will was Mary Flaxman, and the letter she wrote was to her husband, Robert Flaxman; the solicitors25 were to deliver it. Curious, wasn’t it?”
I staggered back from my horse’s side as if I’d received a blow. Marsland saw my intense surprise, for he continued--
“The coincidence is too strange for there to be no connection. Your partner’s name is Robert, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and, by Jove, that in a manner is a clue to our now being troubled by Black. Stay, do you ever remember hearing the name of Mrs. Flaxman’s daughter?”
“Yes, I remember it well, because I considered it a very sweet name and suited to the pretty child. ‘Moira’ it was.”
“‘Moira?’ Ah! how very strange. Did you ever hear what happened to her afterwards?”
“Yes, I believe--mind you, it’s only hear-say, I’m not certain of it--that she married a chap with money named Jim Pendragon. They lived in Melbourne for about a year, then moved away.”
“What sort of a man was he?”
“Well, they used to call him Flash Jay Pen; I always had my suspicions that he was a cardsharper and a cheat, but p’raps I’d better not say so, however; that’s what I have been told.”
“Thanks for the information, old chap. You don’t know the interesting things that you have told me; when I see you again I will give you a yarn that will surprise you. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” he shouted as he watched me ride off to join Snowball and the hand. Well, well, what a wonderful world it is, I thought to myself; just fancy that a few words spoken by this queer old drover should throw the true light upon this mystery!
Now I could appreciate Flaxman’s motive27 in not showing me Moira’s letter after our most unfortunate quarrel, and also his remarks during our ride back to the Station from the township, when he declared that with Moira’s coming to Montalta his peace of mind had gone for ever; doubtless he saw a likeness28 in her to her mother, for, now I came to think of it, I could remember him gazing at her often, very earnestly, which fact I, in my unreasoning jealousy29, had set down to his love for her. Ah! fool that I was, it was all made plain to me now, and I cursed myself again and again for my blind folly30 and contemptible31 selfishness; I swore that in word and deed, for the future, I would try to make it up to him.
But how true is the saying that “Man proposes, and Heaven disposes.” Even now as I sit here writing this story I feel that had I always acted in a better spirit to my friend the course of events might have been changed, and much of the pain that my conduct caused us both would have been saved, and I, on my side, would have had less to reproach myself with.
It was a long ride back to the Station, and darkness had begun to fall when we saw its roofs. In my mind’s eye I pictured Moira on the verandah waiting and wondering if I should return that night, I thought of the pleasant dinner table with its cheerful surroundings and merry conversation, how she would ask me to tell her all that had occurred, from the moment that we started until I reached home, for she took the very greatest interest in all that concerned the Station and desired to acquaint herself with even the slightest details of its management. Again, I thought of the delightful32 evening in the drawing-room afterwards, how she would sit down at the piano and play my favourite “Nocturne,” of Chopin, the “Eleven o’clock Nocturne,” that would send me to my bed more in love with her than ever. These were the thoughts that passed through my mind as we trotted33 along on our tired horses in the gathering34 darkness.
As the hand lived at the distant home-stead, I bade him good-night, after requesting him to come to the Station next morning for orders, whereupon he turned his horse in the direction of his home, and Snowball and I made for the paddock together.
At the slip-panels I gave him my tired beast, with instructions that he was to give him an extra feed and then come to the house for his “grub.”
With that I made my way across the lawn and round towards the verandah, and I remember wondering why it was that I could not see the lights from any of the rooms shining over the grass, for by now it was quite dark.
Perhaps they had closed the curtains, as it was slightly cold; or, maybe, they were sitting waiting for me on the verandah. I coo-eed, but there came no answering cry, nothing but the weird35 echo of my own, that rang round the place like a Banshee’s shriek36.
Then there stole over me a sensation of intense fear that chilled me to the marrow37. Good God! what if Black and his gang had been there while I was away, and . . . No, no, I would not allow myself to think of anything so awful. I felt in my hip--pocket for the revolver that I always carried now in case of emergency. Finding that it was properly loaded, I slowly mounted the verandah steps, but I could not see anything at all in the gloom. I felt in my pocket for my match-box, but only to discover that I had used every one; however, I knew where I could put my hand on some.
I stood quite still, opposite the spot where I was certain the dining-room door should be, and listened intently for any sound that would tell of the existence of my people, but none came, only the thud, thud of my beating heart, which seemed to echo in my very brain.
No one but those who have been through experiences of this terrible nature can realise the sense of abject38 terror that laid hold of me. Here I was, returning to my home in expectation of receiving the warmest of welcomes, but only to find darkness, silence, and perhaps death . . . no, I could not, I would not believe it. There must be some accountable reason for the absence of my friends. Perhaps they had gone for a ride and lamed39 one of their horses, or perhaps they had lost their way and would turn up shortly. Yes, a thousand trivial things might have happened; but, stay, where were the servants, surely they were about somewhere.
Anyway, I must pull myself together and not act like a poor-spirited and frightened child. I should find myself laughing at my fears very soon, when my people appeared.
Trying to bolster40 up my courage with these hopes, which I almost knew to be false, I took a few steps into the room. Suddenly my foot struck something heavy, and I pitched headlong over it, and fell prone41; as I tried to raise myself my hand came in contact with the thing, and to my intense horror I felt the face of a dead man, cold and set. I remember giving vent23 to the most terrific yell, that went echoing away into the pall42 of darkness outside, intensified43 by the hollow roof of the verandah, until it died away somewhere in the blackness of the garden, with a wail44 like a demented soul.
Even now I go through it all again in my sleep, and wake in terror, and I suppose it will haunt me as long as I live.
In less time than it takes to tell, I was out of that room, across the verandah, and down into the garden, shaking like an aspen. Many minutes passed before I could pull myself together sufficiently45 to make up my mind once again to go near that form, lying so cold and still up there in the house. But it was evident a most terrible tragedy had been enacted46 only a few hours since, and, horrible as it was I felt compelled to find out without further delay who the dead man was, for a great dread47 was in my heart and I feared to learn to what further extent the crime had been perpetrated. I made my way in the darkness towards the horse-paddock, where I knew that I should find Snowball and a lantern. Any human being, even a black boy, would prove an agreeable companion under existing circumstances.
As I went along in the dark, stumbling like a drunken man over the flower beds and borders, I saw Snowball coming towards me with his light; I called out to him in a hollow voice, which, I fear, he could hardly recognise as mine; I saw him stop dead. My appearance, I suppose, must have scared him a bit, for he hesitated as if he meant bolting. But when I addressed him again he was satisfied that I was not a spook, although I must have looked like one, for I expect I was as pale as death.
“Snowball,” I said, “while we’ve been away something awful has happened; there is a dead man here. Give me the lantern!”
He handed me the light, and together we began to walk towards the house. For a minute or two neither of us spoke26 a word, we were too much engrossed48: he, in apparently49 studying the lamplit ground, and I, in trying to grasp the mystery of the tragic50 events that were now passing.
Evidently something of a very extraordinary nature must have struck Snowball’s ever alert brain, for he suddenly stopped dead and pointed51 to the ground, at the same time calling my attention to certain marks on the turf in his peculiar52 language.
“See here, boss, all along hoofs54 brown hoss, him long hoss, ridden by Connor. Snowball ‘member, some well.”
Sure enough there were the hoof53 marks of a big horse, such as the boy tried to describe. We carefully followed them along and found that they became mixed up with others as they neared the place. It was evident that the riders approached the house from different points, doubtless with the intention of rushing it.
Leaving these evidences to be examined more closely by daylight, we went up the verandah steps and proceeded into the house. But I confess it took a great deal to make me muster55 up sufficient pluck to face the ordeal56 of entering that dark and silent room where lay the figure of the dead man. But at last, pulling myself together, I crept into the dining-room and made straight towards the figure that I saw lying prone upon the floor.
Bringing the lantern close up to the face so that I might see if I could recognise the features, to my horror I at once saw that it was the face of Flaxman. He lay there with his eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling. Shot through the chest, he had fallen backwards57 with his right arm flung straight out and the fingers still grasping a heavy revolver. I placed my trembling hand upon his heart, in the hope that I should still find it beating; but, alas58! no, the poor fellow was stone dead. Oh! the bitterness of that moment! Never as long as I live in this world shall I be able to put it out of my mind. I almost went mad. I flung myself upon the body and took the cold hand in mine and rubbed it, trying to bring back warmth and life, while in piteous words I implored59 him to speak to me. But no--only silence. Dead! My God! I could not realise it--gone from me for ever. What should I do? It was too awful, too bitterly cruel, to think that this kindly60, loving companion should meet his end in this manner without being able to say one word of farewell to anyone, alone, and unhelped.
No words of mine can adequately convey the anguish61 of mind that I suffered then. He was the very best friend that I ever had, and to lose him in this terrible way was a blow from which I should never recover. What would I not have given to have been able to recall him, if only to hear him speak one word to me again, just to watch the kindly smile that we all loved so well, and to feel the true warm grip of his hand in the old familiar friendship. But no, death, cruel, cold death had him in his clutches, and we had spoken our last in this life, given the last handshake, and looked for the last time into one another’s eyes. God rest his soul, and forgive me for my past offences to him. To my dying day I shall recall the words he spoke when we were returning from the township, that he would never live to see the wonderful view again. After all he was right. There was some definite warning in his mind that the end was drawing near, and now his words had become accomplished facts.
How the tragedy happened we had yet to discover. I was too much affected62 to concentrate my attention on discovery for a long while; but at last, roused by Snowball, I pulled the tablecloth63 off the table and covered the body with it; then I went back into the hall and out on to the verandah, and, turning to the right, I made towards the place where I knew the pigeon basket stood, for I wished to see if the birds had been released. Yes, the basket was empty and the birds gone; that was a certain amount of relief to my mind, for now I might expect the police at any moment, although I had no knowledge of when they had received the warning.
Snowball followed wherever I went like a shadow, for he was determined64 not to lose me for one minute. As we turned away to walk back to the hall, his quick eye saw something, for he gripped my arm and whispered, “Look alonger,” at the same time pointing to an object that lay huddled65 up in a heap at the French windows leading into the dining-room; it was so indistinct and undefined that from where we stood we could make nothing of it. Without a moment’s hesitation66 I strode towards it, and in the light of the lantern I discovered that it was the figure of Moira, who was quite insensible; her heart was faintly beating, and I cried to Snowball to help me to carry her at once to her room. We placed her on the bed, and I went off to fetch some brandy. I then determined to send off to the homestead for the overseer and his wife, and with that end in view I tackled Snowball.
“Snowball,” I cried, “I’ll give you five pounds if you’ll start off at once and fetch the overseer and his wife here to me, and the other hands too. Miss Moira is very ill, and I know that you want her to get well again. Now, will you do it for me?”
Poor Snowball, nothing loth, acquiesced67 immediately. I daresay he was only too pleased to get away from the death-stricken place.
I went with him to the verandah steps, and saw him set off into the darkness. I was about to return to the house, when I heard a voice in the distance cry out, “Now then, hands up, whoever you are.”
Whereupon I feared that Snowball had fallen into an ambush68. I waited at the verandah railings with my revolver ready, peering into the darkness to see if I could make out the approach of any figure, for I was in just the mood to kill any man who showed fight. My heart was full of the desire for vengeance69 against the miscreant70 who perpetrated the cruel murder of my friend, and it would have gone hard indeed with Black if I had happened upon him then. Suddenly I heard the tramping of feet nearing the house, and a voice called out, that I immediately recognised as Braithwaite’s--
“Tregaskis, are you there, old chap? Show a light. What’s up?”
I can tell you I was never more relieved in my life than when I heard him speak. What a comfort it was to think that he had turned up so soon. I called out in response to say that I was on the verandah, and I snatched up the lantern, and very soon four figures came into the light, Braithwaite and two troopers, one on each side of Snowball, who appeared in terror of his life.
“We’ve taken a black boy here, who declares that you sent him with a message to the homestead, that you are in sad trouble, and that all the hands are to come. Is that so?”
“Yes, indeed, it’s Snowball, so you can let him get off at once. It’s a case of life and death to Miss Pendragon now.”
“What on earth do you mean? What’s happened? Nothing serious, I hope?”
“Come up here and see. We have only just returned from starting a mob of cattle and arrived at nightfall to find the place in darkness and, as I thought, deserted71, but on making a search I have been horrified72 to find Flaxman dead on the dining-room floor and Miss Pendragon in a state of collapse73.”
“Good God, you don’t mean it! Here, you men, let that boy go. Snowball, you set off to the homestead at once with your message. Hyde, tell the Doctor and inspector74 to come up here immediately.”
Snowball, released, made off into the darkness, while the trooper addressed as Hyde went on his errand, and Braithwaite came with me into the house, leaving the other trooper on the verandah. I led the way into the dining-room and showed him the dead man lying there, and the good chap was as much affected as I had been.
“This is most awful,” he said. “A shocking business. Poor old Flaxman! I never thought that he would come to such an end. I wonder how it all happened? Perhaps you had better get some more lights, as we shall have to examine carefully everything in the room. I suppose you have not moved anything?”
“No, my dear man; I can tell you I received far too great a shock to think of anything. I shall never get the memory of this night out of my mind.”
“I fear not,” he replied, gazing down at the body. “A tragedy of this kind is quite enough to haunt a man for the rest of his life. And Flaxman, too, was one of the best in the world. It’s too terrible to think about. Ah! Doctor, here you are. There has been a most awful time of it going on here. Look, this is poor old Flaxman.”
“Good heavens! you don’t say so,” answered the Doctor, who had just come into the room. “Is he dead? Let me see.”
With that he bent75 over the body and carefully examined it.
“Yes, I fear so,” he said. “Shot through the heart. I expect I am right in saying that he has been dead quite three hours, now. But the only consolation76 that we have is that death must have been almost instantaneous. Poor old Flaxman. What an end. How did it occur?”
“We don’t know yet,” I replied. “I have been away starting a mob of store cattle and returned to the Station with Snowball just as darkness set in. I left my horse at the paddock and came up here alone, and was very much surprised to find the place in darkness, and on entering this room I fell over the body of my dear friend. I can tell you it has been such a shock to me as I shall never get over. However, fearing worse troubles, I nerved myself to search about, and found Miss Pendragon lying insensible outside the French windows of the dining-room, and I want you, Doctor, to go and see her immediately, for I fear she is in for a recurrence77 of her late illness. I hope that before long the overseer’s wife will be here to nurse her.”
“All right, I’ll go to her at once,” he replied, and straightway departed.
Braithwaite and the Inspector then went with me very carefully through the house and outbuildings. In the woodshed we found the two Chinese servants hiding in terror of their lives. They were brought out, and made to tell us all that had occurred to them. It appeared that late in the afternoon they heard angry voices on the verandah, and, cautiously looking out, they saw two men with pistols standing there, while another sat upon a horse at the foot of the steps and held two others. This was quite enough for them, and they made the best haste they could to the shelter of the woodshed, where they hid, in no peace of mind, however, for the sounds of shots and screams came to their terrified ears, and they feared every moment that the men would make their appearance and drag them out and murder them. We asked for a description, and from what we gathered there was little doubt but that Black and O’Connor were the assailants.
Having conveyed them back to the house, and somewhat allayed78 their fears, we ordered the preparation of a meal, and in the mean-time the overseer and his wife arrived in the buggy, convoyed by the hands.
It was to their general astonishment79 and grief that they learned of the terrible episodes that had taken place during the last few hours, and sincere and genuine were the expressions of sorrow and regret, for poor old Flaxman was a general favourite, beloved by every hand and jackaroo on the Station.
I gave orders that the whole place was to be gone over and carefully searched with lanterns, in case there should be any clue discovered that might guide us in the elucidation80 of the details of the murder; not that we wanted any further knowledge to tell us who the criminals were.
It only remained for us now to convey the body of my friend from the dining--room to his room, which we did very reverently81, and laid him on the bed and covered him with a sheet; then passed out and locked the door.
Meanwhile, the rooms had been set in order and a meal laid for us, which we sat down to. Although I was in no mood to eat, I forced myself to do so, as I knew that it would do me good after the long ride that I had done, not to mention the troubles that I had gone through since.
The Doctor came in to take some food, and while doing so he informed us that Moira was now in a most critical condition, and that, at the time, he could only hold out the very slightest hope of her recovery. I knew he must think very badly of the state of his patient if he was forced to take this gloomy view of her condition. He must have seen how very much I was affected by what he told us, for he promised that he would leave nothing undone82 to restore her to health, but that we must be prepared for the worst.
My state of mind when I realised what he meant was too sorrowful for words. I was utterly83 cast down and wretched. The loss of my best friend was bad enough, but the thought that I might most probably lose Moira was a blow that utterly unnerved me. So miserable84 was I that I felt everything was against me. My God, what if she did die! There would be nothing left for me to live for, all the charm and pleasure in life would be gone with her. I was in such a nervous and wretched state of mind that the Doctor insisted on my going to bed, and came and himself administered a sleeping draught85, in the hope that when the morning arrived I should be better and ready to start with the others to endeavour to trace the murderers to their hiding--place.
With sleep came peace, and the next thing that I knew was the sensation of being shaken by Braithwaite at dawn.
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1
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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3
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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creeks
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| n.小湾( creek的名词复数 )；小港；小河；小溪 | |
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hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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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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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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concoction
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| n.调配(物)；谎言 | |
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utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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proximity
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| n.接近，邻近 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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galloper
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| 骑马奔驰的人，飞驰的马，旋转木马； 轻野炮 | |
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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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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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yarn
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| n.纱，纱线，纺线；奇闻漫谈，旅行轶事 | |
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solicitors
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| 初级律师( solicitor的名词复数 ) | |
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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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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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33
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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lamed
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| 希伯莱语第十二个字母 | |
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40
bolster
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| n.枕垫；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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41
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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43
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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49
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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50
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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52
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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55
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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58
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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67
acquiesced
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| v.默认，默许( acquiesce的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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69
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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miscreant
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| n.恶棍 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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73
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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74
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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75
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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76
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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77
recurrence
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| n.复发，反复，重现 | |
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78
allayed
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| v.减轻，缓和( allay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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80
elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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81
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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82
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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83
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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84
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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85
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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