Angelika did not share his beliefs. She was a stern realist, a sneering7 sceptic, in the most literal sense a cynic.
Her even breathing, her regular features, seemed to answer him. "Hey-dey, my boy, we shall be merry for a thousand years! Better sleep now, you will need sleep if you mean to try which of us is the stronger."
The next day their marriage was the marvel9 of the town and neighbourhood.
"Just like his mother!" people exclaimed; "what promise there was in her! She might have chosen so as to have been now in one of the best positions in the country—when, lo and behold10! she went and made the most idiotic11 marriage. The most idiotic? No, the son's is more idiotic still." And so on and so forth12.
Most people seem naturally impelled13 to exalt14 the hero of the hour higher than they themselves intend, and when a reaction comes, to decry15 him in an equal degree. Few people see with their own eyes, and on special occasions even magnifying or diminishing glasses are called into play with most amusing results.
"Rafael Kaas a handsome fellow?—well, yes, but too big, too fair, no repose16, altogether too restless. Rich? He? He has not a stiver! The savings17 eaten up long ago, nothing coming in, they have been encroaching on their capital for some time; and the beds of cement stone—who the deuce would join with him in any large undertaking18? They talk about his gifts, his genius even; but IS he very highly gifted? Is it anything more than what he has acquired? The saving of motive19 power at the factory? Was that anything more than a mere20 repetition of what he had done before?—and that, of course, only what he had seen elsewhere."
Just the same with the hints which he had given. "Merely close personal observation; for it must be admitted that he had more of that than most people; but as for ingenuity21! Well, he could make out a good case for himself, but that was about the extent of his ingenuity."
"His earlier articles, as well as those which had recently appeared on the use of electricity in baking and tanning—could you call those discoveries? Let us see what he will invent now that he has come home, and cannot get ideas from reading and from seeing people."
Rafael noticed this change—first among the ladies, who all seemed to have been suddenly blown away, with a few exceptions, who did not respect a marriage like his, and who would not give in.
His relations, also, held somewhat aloof22. "It was not thus that he showed himself a true Ravn. He was so in temperament23 and disposition24, perhaps, but it was just his defect that he was only a half-breed."
The change of front was complete: he noticed it on all hands. But he was man enough, and had sufficient obstinacy25 as well, to let himself be urged on by this to hard work, and in his wife there was still more of the same feeling.
He had a sense of elevation26 in having done his duty, and as long as this tension lasted it kept him up to the mark. On the day of his marriage (from early in the morning until the time when the ceremony took place) he employed himself in writing to his mother; a wonderful, a solemn letter in the sight of the All-Knowing,—the cry of a tortured soul in utmost peril27.
It depended on his mother whether she would receive them and let their life become all that was now possible. Angelika—their business, manager, housekeeper28, chief. He—devoted to his experiments. She—the tender mother, the guide of both.
It seemed to him that their future depended on this letter and the answer to it, and he wrote in that spirit. Never had he so fully1 depicted29 himself, so fully searched his own heart.
It was the outcome of what he had lived through during these last few days, the mellowing30 influence of his struggles during the night watches. Nothing could have been more candid31.
He was pained that he did not receive an answer at once, although he realised what a blow it would be to her. He understood that, to begin with, it would destroy all her dreams, as it had already destroyed. But he relied on her optimistic nature, which he had never known surpassed, and on the depth of her purpose in all that she undertook. He knew that she drew strength and resolution from all that was deepest in their common life.
Therefore he gave her time, notwithstanding Angelika's restlessness, which could hardly be controlled. She even began to sneer8; but there was something holy in his anticipation32: her words fell unheeded.
When on the third day he had received no letter, he telegraphed, merely these words: "Mother, send me an answer." The wires had never carried anything more fraught34 with unspoken grief.
He could not return home. He remained alone outside the town until the evening, by which time the answer might well have arrived. It was there.
"My beloved son, YOU are always welcome; most of all when you are unhappy!" The word YOU was underlined. He grew deadly pale, and went slowly into his own room. There Angelika let him remain for a while in peace, then came in and lit the lamp. He could see that she was much agitated36, and that every now and then she cast hasty glances at him.
"Do you know what, Rafael? you ought simply to go straight to your mother. It is too bad, both on account of our future and hers. We shall be ruined by gossip and trash."
He was too unhappy to be contemptuous. She had no respect for anybody or anything, he thought; why, then, should he be angry because she felt none, either for his mother or for his position in regard to her? But how vulgar Angelika seemed to him, as she bent37 over a troublesome lamp and let her impatience38 break out! Her mouth but too easily acquired a coarse expression. Her small head would rear itself above her broad shoulders with a snake-like expression, and her thick wrist—
"Well," she said, "when all is said and done, that disgusting
Hellebergene is not worth making a fuss over."
Now she is annoyed with herself, he thought, and must have her say. She will not rest until she has picked a quarrel; but she shall not have that satisfaction.
"After all that has been said and all that has happened there—"
But this, too, missed fire. "How could I have supposed that she could manage my mother?" He got up and paced the room. "Is that what mother felt? Yet they were such good friends. I suspected nothing then. How is it that mother's instinct is always more delicate? have I blunted mine?"
When, a little later, Angelika came in again, he looked so unhappy that she was struck by it, and she then showed herself so kind and fertile in resource on his behalf, and there was such sunshine in her cheerfulness and flow of spirits during the evening, that he actually brightened up under it, and thought—If mother could have brought herself to try the experiment, perhaps after all it might have answered. There is so much that is good and capable in this curious creature.
He went to the children. From the first day he and they had taken to each other. They had been unhappy in the great pension, with a mother who seldom came near them or took any notice of them, except as clothes to be patched, mouths to feed, or faults to be punished.
Rafael had in his nature the unconventionality which delights in children's confidence, and he felt a desire to love and to be loved. Children are quick to feel this.
They only wasted Angelika's time. They were in her way now more than ever; for it may be said at once that, Rafael had become EVERYTHING to her. This was the fascination40 in her, and whatever happened, it never lost its power. Her tenderness, her devotion, were boundless41. By the aid of her personal charm, her resourceful ingenuity, she obtained every advantage for him within her range, and even beyond it. It was felt in her devotion by night and day, when anything was to be done, in an untiring zeal42 such as only so strong and healthy a woman could have had in her power to render. But in words it did not show itself, hardly even in looks: except, perhaps, while she fought to win him, but never since then.
Had she been able to adhere to one line of conduct, if only for a few weeks at a time, and let herself be guided by her never-failing love, he would, in this stimulating43 atmosphere, have made of his married life what his mother, in spite of all, had made of hers.
Why did not this happen? Because the jealousy44 which she had aroused in him and which had drawn45 him to her again was now reversed.
They were hardly married before it was she who was jealous! Was it strange? A middle-aged46 woman, even though she be endowed with the strongest personality and the widest sympathy, when she wins a young husband who is the fashion—wins him as Angelika won hers—begins to live in perpetual disquietude lest any one should take him from her. Had she not taken him herself?
If we were to say that she was jealous of every human being who came there, man or woman, old or young, beside those whom he met elsewhere, it would be an exaggeration, but this exaggeration throws a strong light upon the state of things, which actually existed.
If he became at all interested in conversation with any one, she always interrupted. Her face grew hard, her right foot began to move; and if this did not suffice, she struck in with sulky or provoking remarks, no matter who was there.
If something were said in praise of any one, and it seemed to excite his interest, she would pooh-pooh it, literally47 with a "pooh!" a shrug48 of the shoulders, a toss of the head, or an impatient tap of the foot.
At first he imagined that she really knew something disadvantageous about all those whom she thus disparaged49, and he was filled with admiration50 at her acquaintance with half Norway. He believed in her veracity51 as he believed in few things. He believed, too, that it was unbounded like so many of her qualities. She said the most cynical52 things in the plainest manner without apparent design.
But little by little it dawned upon him that she said precisely53 what it pleased her to say, according to the humour that she was in.
One day, as they were going to table—he had come in late and was hungry—he was delighted to see that there were oysters54.
"Oysters! at this time of the year," he cried. "They must be very expensive."
"Pooh! that was the old woman, you know. She persuaded me to take them for you. I got them for next to nothing."
"That was odd; you have been out, then, too?"
"Yes, and I saw YOU; you were walking with Emma Ravn."
He understood at once, by the tone of her voice, that this was not permitted, but all the same he said, "Yes; how sweet she is! so fresh and candid."
"She! Why, she had a child before she was married."
"Emma? Emma Ravn?"
"Yes! But I do not know who by."
"Do you know, Angelika, I do not believe that," he said solemnly.
"You can do as you please about that, but she was at the pension at the time, so you can judge for yourself if I am right."
He could not believe that any human being could so belie6 themselves. Emma's eyes, clear as water in a fountain where one can count the pebbles55 at the bottom, rose to his mind, in all their innocence56. He could not believe that such eyes could lie. He grew livid, he could not eat, he left the table. The world was nothing but a delusion57, the purest was impure58.
For a long time after this, whenever he met Emma or her white-haired mother, he turned aside, so as not to come face to face with them.
He had clung to his relations: their weak points were apparent to every one, but their ability and honesty no less so. This one story destroyed his confidence, impaired59 his self-reliance, shattered his belief, and thus made him the poorer. How could he be fit for anything, when he so constantly allowed himself to be befooled?
There was not one word of truth in the whole story.
His simple confidence was held in her grasp, like a child in the talons60 of an eagle; but this did not last much longer.
Fortunately, she was without calculation or perseverance61. She did not remember one day what she had said the day before; for each day she coolly asserted whatever was demanded by the necessity of the moment. He, on the contrary, had an excellent memory; and his mathematical mind ranged the evidence powerfully against her. Her gifts were more aptness and quickness than anything else, they were without training, without cohesion62, and permeated63 with passion at all points. Therefore he could, at any moment, crush her defence; but whenever this happened, it was so evident that she had been actuated by jealousy that it flattered his vanity; which was the reason why he did not regard it seriously enough—did not pursue his advantage. Perhaps if he had done so, he would have discovered more, for this jealousy was merely the form which her uneasiness took. This uneasiness arose from several causes.
The fact was that she had a past and she had debts which she had denied, and now she lived in perpetual dread64 lest any one should enlighten him. If any one got on the scent65, she felt sure that this would be used against her. It merely depended on what he learned—in other words, with whom he associated.
She could disregard anonymous66 letters because he did so, but there were plenty of disagreeable people who might make innuendoes67.
She saw that Rafael too, to some extent, avoided his countless68 friends of old days. She did not understand the reason, but it was this: that he, as well, felt that they knew more of her than it was expedient69 for HIM to know. She saw that he made ingenious excuses for not being seen out with her. This, too, she misconstrued. She did not at all understand that he, in his way, was quite as frightened as she was of what people might say. She believed that he sought the society of others rather than hers. If nothing more came of such intercourse70, stories might be told. This was the reason for her slanders71 about almost every one he spoke35 to. If they had vilified72 her, they must be vilified in return.
She had debts, and this could not be concealed74 unless she increased them; this she did with a boldness worthy75 of a better cause. The house was kept on an extravagant76 scale, with an excellent table and great hospitality. Otherwise he would not be comfortable at home, she said and believed.
She herself vied with the most fashionably dressed ladies in the town. Her daily struggle to maintain her hold on him demanded this. It followed, of course, that she got everything for "nothing" or "the greatest bargain in the world." There was always some one "who almost gave it" to her. He did not know himself how much money he spent, perhaps, because she hunted and drove him from one thing to another.
Originally he had thought of going abroad; but with a wife who knew no foreign languages, with a large family—
Here at home, as he soon discovered, every one had lost confidence in him. He dared not take up anything important, or else he wished to wait a little before he came to any definite determination. In the meantime, he did whatever came to hand, and that was often work of a subordinate description. Both from weariness, and from the necessity to earn a living, he ended by doing only mediocre77 work, and let things drift.
He always gave out that this was only "provisional." His scientific gifts, his inventive genius, with so many pounds on his back, did not rise high, but they should yet! He had youth's lavish78 estimate of time and strength, and therefore did not see, for a long time, that the large family, the large house were weighing him farther and farther down. If only he could have a little peace, he thought, he would carry out his present ideas and new ones also. He felt such power within him.
But peace was just what he never had. Now we come to the worst, or more properly, to the sum of what has gone before. The ceaseless uneasiness in which Angelika lived broke out into perpetual quarrelling. For one thing, she had no self-command. A caprice, a mistake, an anxiety over-ruled everything. She seized the smallest opportunities. Again—and this was a most important factor—there was her overpowering anxiety to keep possession of him; this drew her away from what she should have paid most heed33 to, in order to let him have peace. She continued her lavish housekeeping, she let the children drift, she concentrated all her powers on him. Her jealousy, her fears, her debts, sapped his fertile mind, destroyed his good humour, laid desolate79 his love of the beautiful and his creative power.
He had in particular one great project, which he had often, but ineffectually, attempted to mature. The effort to do so had begun seriously one day on the heights above Hellebergene, and had continued the whole summer. Curiously80 enough, one morning, as he sat at some most wearisome work, Hellebergene and Helene, in the spring sunshine, rose before him, and with them his project, lofty and smiling, came to him again. Then he begged for a little peace in the house.
"Let me be quiet, if only for a month," he said. "Here is some money. I have got an idea; I must and will have quiet. In a month's time I shall have got on so far that perhaps I shall be able to judge if it is worth continuing. It may be that this one idea may entirely81 support us."
This was something which she could understand, and now he was able to be quiet.
He had an office in the town, but sometimes took his papers home with him in the evenings, for it often happened that something would occur to him at one moment or another. She bestowed82 every care on him; she even sat on the stairs while he was asleep at midday, to prevent him from being disturbed.
This went on for a fortnight. Then it so chanced that, when he had gone out for a walk, she rummaged83 among his papers, and there, among drawings, calculations, and letters, she actually, for once in a way, found something. It was in his handwriting and as follows:
"More of the mother than the lover in her; more of the solicitude84 of love than of its enjoyment85. Rich in her affection, she would not squander86 it in one day with you, but, mother-like, would distribute it throughout your life. Instead of the whirl of the rapids, a placid87 stream. Her love was devotion, never absorption. YOU were one and SHE was one. Together we should have been more powerful than two lovers are wont88 to be."
There was more of this, but Angelika could not read further, she became so furious. Were these his own thoughts, or had he merely copied them? There were no corrections, so most likely it was a copy. In any case it showed where his thoughts were.
Rafael came quietly home, went straight to his room and lighted a candle, even before he took off his overcoat. As he stood he wrote down a few formulae, then seized a book, sat down astride of a chair, and made a rapid calculation. Just then Angelika came in, leaned forward towards him, and said in a low voice:
"You are a nice fellow! Now I know what you have in hand. Look there: your secret thoughts are with that beast."
"Beast!" he repeated. His anger at being disturbed, at her having found this particular paper, and now the abuse from her coarse lips of the most delicate creature he had ever known, and, above all, the absolute unexpectedness of the attack, made him lose his head.
"How dare you? What do you mean?"
"Don't be a fool. Do you suppose that I don't guess that that is meant for the girl who looked after your estate in order to catch you?"
She saw that this hit the mark, so she went still further.
"She, the model of virtue89! why, when she was a mere girl, she disgraced herself with an old man."
As she spoke she was seized by the throat and flung backwards90 on to the sofa, without the grasp being relaxed. She was breathless, she saw his face over her; deadly rage was in it. A strength, a wildness of which she had no conception, gazed upon her in sensual delight at being able to strangle her.
After a wild struggle her arms sank down powerless, her will with them; only her eyes remained wide open, in terror and wonderment.
Dare he? "Yes, he dare!" Her eyes grew dim, her limbs began to tremble.
"You have taken MY apple, I tell you," was heard in a childish voice from the next room, a soft lisping voice.
It came from the most peaceful innocence in the world! It saved her!
He rushed out again; but even when the rage had left him which had seized upon him and dominated him as a rider does a horse, he was still not horrified91 at himself. His satisfaction at having at length made his power felt was too great for that.
But by degrees there came a revulsion. Suppose he had killed her, and had to go into penal92 servitude for the rest of his life for it! Had such a possibility come into his life? Might it happen in the future? No! no! no! How strange that Angelika should have wounded him! How frightful93 her state of mind must be when she could think so odiously94 of absolutely innocent people; and how angry she must have been to behave in such a way towards him, whom she loved above all others, indeed, as the only one for whom she had to live!
A long, long sum followed: his faults, her faults, and the faults of others. He cooled down and began to feel more like himself.
In an hour or two he was fit to go home, to find her on her bed, dissolved in tears, prepared at once to throw her arms round his neck.
He asked pardon a hundred times, with words, kisses, and caresses96.
But with this scene his invention had fled. The spell was broken. It never did more than flutter before him, tempting97 him to pursue it once more; but he turned away from the whole subject and began to work for money again. Something offered itself just at that moment which Angelika had hunted up.
Back to the unending toil98 again. Now at last it became an irritation99 to him: he chafed100 as the war horse chafes101 at being made a beast of burden.
This made the scenes at home still worse. Since that episode their quarrels knew no bounds. Words were no longer necessary to bring them about: a gesture, a look, a remark of his unanswered, was enough to arouse the most violent scenes. Hitherto they had been restrained by the presence of others, but now it was the same whether they were alone or not. Very soon, as far as brutality102 of expression or the triviality of the question was concerned, he was as bad or worse than she.
His idle fancy and creative genius found no other vent4, but overthrew103 and trampled104 underfoot many of life's most beautiful gifts. Thus he squandered105 much of the happiness which such talents can duly give. Sometimes his daily regrets and sufferings, sometimes his passionate106 nature, were in the ascendant, but the cause of his despair was always the same—that this could have happened to him. Should he leave her? He would not thus escape. The state of the case had touched his conscience at first, later he had become fond of the children, and his mother's example said to him, "Hold out, hold out!"
The unanimous prediction that this marriage would be dissolved as quickly as it had been made he would prove to be untrue. Besides, he knew Angelika too well now not to know that he would never obtain a separation from her until, with the law at her back, she had flayed107 him alive. He could not get free.
From the first it had been a question of honour and duty; honour and duty on account of the child which was to come—and which did not come. Here he had a serious grievance108 against her; but yet, in the midst of the tragedy, he could not but be amused at the skill with which she turned his own gallantries against him. At last he dared not mention the subject, for he only heard in return about his gay bachelor life.
The longer this state of things lasted and the more it became known, the more incomprehensible it became to most people that they did not separate—to himself, too, at times, during sleepless109 nights. But it is sometimes the case that he, who makes a thousand small revolts, cannot brace110 himself to one great one. The endless strife111 itself strengthens the bonds, in that it saps the strength.
He deteriorated112. This married life, wearing in every way, together with the hard work, resulted in his not being equal to more than just the necessities of the day. His initiative and will became proportionately deadened.
A strange stagnation113 developed itself: he had hallucinations, visions; he saw himself in them—his father! his mother! all the pictures were of a menacing description.
At night he dreamed the most frightful things: his unbridled fancy, his unoccupied creative power, took revenge, and all this weakened him. He looked with admiration at his wife's robust114 health: she had the physique of a wild beast. But at times their quarrels, their reconciliations116, brought revelations with them: he could perceive her sorrows as well. She did not complain, she did not say a word, she could not do so; but at times she wept and gave way as only the most despairing can. Her nature was powerful, and the struggle of her love beyond belief. The beauty of the fulness of life was there, even when she was most repulsive117. The wild creature, wrestling with her destiny, often gave forth tragic118 gleams of light.
One day his relation, the Government Secretary, met him. They usually avoided each other, but to-day he stopped.
"Ah, Rafael," said the dapper little man nervously119, "I was coming to see you."
"My dear fellow, what is it?"
"Ah, I see that you guess; it is a letter from your mother."
"From my mother?"
During all the time since her telegram they had not exchanged a word.
"A very long letter, but she makes a condition."
"Hum, hum! a condition?"
"Yes, but do not be angry; it is not a hard one: it is only that you are to go away from the town, wherever you like, so long as you can be quiet, and then you are to read it."
"You know the contents?"
"I know the contents, I will go bail120 for it."
What he meant, or why he was so perturbed121 by it, Rafael did not understand, but it infected him; if he had had the money, and if on that day he had been disengaged, he would have gone at once. But he had not the money, not more than he wanted for the fete that evening. He had the tickets for it in his pocket at that moment. He had promised Angelika that he would go there with her, and he would keep his promise, for it had been given after a great reconciliation115 scene. A white silk dress had been the olive branch of these last peaceful days. She therefore looked very handsome that evening as she walked into the great hall of the Lodge122, with Rafael beside her tall and stately. She was in excellent spirits. Her quiet eyes had a haughty123 expression as she turned her steps with confident superiority towards those whom she wished to please, or those whom she hoped to annoy.
HE did not feel confident. He did not like showing himself in public with her, and lately it had precisely been in public places that she had chosen to make scenes; besides which, he felt nervous as to what his mother could wish to say to him.
A short time before he came to the fete, he had tried, in two quarters, to borrow money, and each time had received only excuses. This had greatly mortified124 him. His disturbed state of mind, as is so often the case with nervous people, made him excited and boisterous125, nay126, even made him more than usually jovial127. And as though a little of the old happiness were actually to come to him that evening, he met his friend and relative Hans Ravn, him and his young Bavarian wife, who had just come to the town. All three were delighted to meet.
"Do you remember," said Hans Ravn, "how often you have lent me money, Rafael?" and he drew him on one side. "Now I am at the top of the tree, now I am married to an heiress, and the most charming girl too; ah, you must know her better."
"She is pretty as well," said Rafael.
"And pretty as well—and good tempered; in fact, you see before you the happiest man in Norway."
Rafael's eyes filled. Ravn put his hands on to his friend's shoulders.
"Are you not happy, Rafael?"
"Not quite so happy as you, Hans—"
He left him to speak to some one else, then returned again.
"You say, Hans, that I have often lent you money."
"Are you pressed? Do you want some, Rafael? My dear fellow, how much?"
"Can you spare me two thousand kroner?"
"Here they are."
"No, no; not in here, come outside."
"Yes, let us go and have some champagne128 to celebrate our meeting. No, not our wives," he added, as Rafael looked towards where they stood talking.
"Not our wives," laughed Rafael. He understood the intention, and now he wished to enjoy his freedom thoroughly129. They came in again merrier and more boisterous than before.
Rafael asked Hans Ravn's young wife to dance. Her personal attractions, natural gaiety, and especially her admiration of her husband's relations, took him by storm. They danced twice, and laughed and talked together afterwards.
Later in the evening the two friends rejoined their wives, so that they might all sit together at supper. Even from a distance Rafael could see by Angelika's face that a storm was brewing130. He grew angry at once. He had never been blamed more groundlessly. He was never to have any unalloyed pleasure, then! But he confined himself to whispering, "Try to behave like other people." But that was exactly what she did not mean to do. He had left her alone, every one had seen it. She would have her revenge. She could not endure Hans Ravn's merriment, still less that of his wife, so she contradicted rudely once, twice, three times, while Hans Ravn's face grew more and more puzzled. The storm might have blown over, for Rafael parried each thrust, even turning them into jokes, so that the party grew merrier, and no feelings were hurt; but on this she tried fresh tactics. As has been already said, she could make a number of annoying gestures, signs and movements which only he understood. In this way she showed him her contempt for everything which every one, and especially he himself, said. He could not help looking towards her, and saw this every time he did so, until under the cover of the laughter of the others, with as much fervour and affection as can be put into such a word, "You jade131!" he said.
"Jade; was ist das?" asked the bright-eyed foreigner.
This made the whole affair supremely132 ridiculous. Angelika herself laughed, and all hoped that the cloud had been finally dispersed133. No!—as though Satan himself had been at table with them, she would not give in.
The conversation again grew lively, and when it was at its height, she pooh-poohed all their jokes so unmistakably that they were completely puzzled. Rafael gave her a furious look, and then she jeered134 at him, "You boy!" she said. After this Rafael answered her angrily, and let nothing pass without retaliation135, rough, savage136 retaliation; he was worse than she was.
"But God bless me!" said good-natured Hans Ravn at length, "how you are altered, Rafael!" His genial137 kindly138 eyes gazed at him with a look which Rafael never forget.
"Ja, ich kan es nicht mehr aushalten" said the young Fru Ravn, with tears in her eyes. She rose, her husband hurried to her, and they left together. Rafael sat down again, with Angelika. Those near them looked towards them and whispered together. Angry and ashamed, he looked across at Angelika, who laughed. Everything seemed to turn red before his eyes—he rose; he had a wild desire to kill her there, before every one. Yes! the temptation overpowered him to such an extent that he thought that people must notice it.
"Are you not well, Kaas?" he heard some one beside him say.
He could not remember afterwards what he answered, or how he got away; but still, in the street, he dwelt with ecstasy139 on the thought of killing140 her, of again seeing her face turn black, her arms fall powerless, her eyes open wide with terror; for that was what would happen some day. He should end his life in a felon's cell. That was as certainly a part of his destiny as had been the possession of talents which he had allowed to become useless.
A quarter of an hour later he was at the observatory141: he scanned the heavens, but no stars were visible. He felt that he was perspiring142, that his clothes clung to him, yet he was ice-cold. That is the future that awaits you, he thought; it runs ice-cold through your limbs.
Then it was that a new and, until then, unused power, which underlay143 all else, broke forth and took the command.
"You shall never return home to her, that is all past now, boy; I will not permit it any longer."
What was it? What voice was that? It really sounded as though outside himself. Was it his father's? It was a man's voice. It made him clear and calm. He turned round, he went straight to the nearest hotel, without further thought, without anxiety. Something new was about to begin.
He slept for three hours undisturbed by dreams; it was the first night for a long time that he had done so.
The following morning he sat in the little pavilion at the station at Eidsvold with his mother's packet of letters laid open before him. It consisted of a quantity of papers which he had read through.
The expanse of Lake Mjosen lay cold and grey beneath the autumn mist, which still shrouded144 the hillsides. The sound of hammers from the workshops to the right mingled145 with the rumble146 of wheels on the bridge; the whistle of an engine, the rattle147 of crockery from the restaurant; sights and sounds seethed148 round him like water boiling round an egg.
As soon as his mother had felt sure that Angelika was not really enceinte she had busied herself in collecting all the information about her which it was possible to obtain.
By the untiring efforts of her ubiquitous relations she had succeeded to such an extent and in such detail as no examining magistrate149 could have accomplished150. And there now lay before him letters, explanations, evidence, which the deponent was ready to swear to, besides letters from Angelika herself: imprudent letters which this impulsive151 creature could perpetrate in the midst of her schemes; or deeply calculated letters, which directly contradicted others which had been written at a different period, based on different calculations. These documents were only the accompaniment of a clear summing-up by his mother. It was therefore she who had guided the investigations153 of the others and made a digest of their discoveries. With mathematical precision was here laid down both what was certain and what, though not certain, was probable. No comment was added, not a word addressed to himself.
That portion of the disclosures which related to Angelika's past does not concern us. That which had reference to her relations with Rafael began by proving that the anonymous letters, which had been the means of preventing his engagement with Helene, had been written by Angelika. This revelation and that which preceded it, give an idea of the overwhelming humiliation154 under which Rafael now suffered. What was he that he could be duped and mastered like a captured animal; that what was best and what was worst in him could lead him so far astray? Like a weak fool he was swept along; he had neither seen nor heard nor thought before he was dragged away from everything that was his or that was dear to him.
As he sat there, the perspiration155 poured from him as it had done the night before, and again he felt a deadly chill. He therefore went up to his room with the papers, which he locked up in his trunk, and then set off at a run along the road. The passers-by turned to stare after the tall fellow.
As he ran he repeated to himself, "Who are you, my lad? who are you?"
Then he asked the hills the same question, and then the trees as well.
He even asked the fog, which was now rolling off, "Who am I? can you
answer me that?"
The close-cropped half-withered turf mocked him—the cleared potato patches, the bare fields, the fallen leaves.
"That which you are you will never be; that which you can you will never do; that which you ought to become you will never attain156 to! As you, so your mother before you. She turned aside—and your father too—into absolute folly157; perhaps their fathers before them! This is a branch of a great family who never attained158 to what they were intended for."
"Something different has misled each one of us, but we have all been misled. Why is that so? We have greater aims than many others, but the others drove along the beaten highway right through the gates of Fortune's house. We stray away from the highway and into the wood. See! am I not there myself now? Away from the highway and into the wood, as though I were led by an inward law. Into the wood." He looked round among the mountain-ashes, the birches, and other leafy trees in autumn tints159. They stood all round, dripping, as though they wept for his sorrow. "Yes, yes; they will see me hang here, like Absalom by his long hair." He had not recalled this old picture a moment before he stopped, as though seized by a strong hand.
He must not fly from this, but try to fathom160 it. The more he thought of it, the clearer it became: ABSALOM'S HISTORY WAS HIS OWN. He began with rebellion. Naturally rebellion is the first step in a course which leads one from the highway—leads to passion and its consequences. That was clear enough.
Thus passion overpowered strength of purpose; thus chance circumstances sapped the foundations—But David rebelled as well. Why, then, was not David hung up by his hair? It was quite as long as Absalom's. Yes, David was within an ace3 of it, right up to his old age. But the innate161 strength in David was too great, his energy was always too powerful: it conquered the powers of rebellion. They could not drag him far away into passionate wanderings; they remained only holiday flights in his life and added poetry to it. They did not move his strength of purpose. Ah, ha! It was so strong in David that he absorbed them and fed on them; and yet he was within an ace—very often. See! That is what I, miserable162 contemptible163 wretch164, cannot do. So I must hang! Very soon the man with the spear will be after me.
Rafael now set off running; probably he wished to escape the man with the spear. He now entered the thickest part of the wood, a narrow valley between two high hills which overshadowed it. Oh, how thirsty he was, so fearfully thirsty! He stood still and wondered whether he could get anything to drink. Yes, he could hear the murmur165 of a brook166. He ran farther down towards it. Close by was an opening in the wood, and as he went towards the stream he was arrested by something there: the sun had burst forth and lighted up the tree-tops, throwing deep shadows below. Did he see anything? Yes; it seemed to him that he saw himself, not absolutely in the opening, but to one side, in the shadow, under a tree; he hung there by his hair. He hung there and swung, a man, but in the velvet167 jacket of his childhood and the tight-fitting trousers: he swung suspended by his tangled168 red hair. And farther away he distinctly saw another figure: it was his mother, stiff and stately, who was turning round as if to the sound of music. And, God preserve him! still farther away, broad and heavy, hung his father, by the few thin hairs on his neck, with wretched distorted face as on his death-bed. In other respects those two were not great sinners. They were old; but his sins were great, for he was young, and therefore nothing had ever prospered169 with him, not even in his childhood. There had always been something which had caused him to be misunderstood or which had frightened him or made him constantly constrained170 and uncertain of himself. Never had he been able to keep to the main point, and thus to be in quiet natural peace. With only one exception—his meeting with Helene.
It seemed to him that he was sitting in the boat with her out in the bay. The sky was bright, there was melody in the woods. Now he was up on the hill with her, among the saplings, and she was explaining to him that it depended on her care whether they throve or not.
He went to the brook to drink; he lay down over the water. He was thus able to see his own face. How could that happen? Why, there was sunshine overhead. He was able to see his own face. Great heavens! how like his father he had become. In the last year he had grown very like his father—people had said so. He well remembered his mother's manner when she noticed it. But, good God! were those grey hairs? Yes, in quantities, so that his hair was no longer red but grey. No one had told him of it. Had he advanced so far, been so little prepared for it, that Hans Ravn's remark, "How you are altered, Rafael!" had frightened him?
He had certainly given up observing himself, in this coarse life of quarrels. In it, certainly, neither words nor deeds were weighed, and hence this hunted feeling. It was only natural that he had ceased to observe. If the brook had been a little deeper, he would have let himself be engulfed171 in it. He got up, and went on again, quicker and quicker: sometimes he saw one person, sometimes another, hanging in the woods.
He dare not turn round. Was it so very wonderful that others besides himself and his family had turned from the beaten track, and peopled the byways and the boughs173 in the wood? He had been unjust towards himself and his parents; they were not alone, they were in only too large a company. What will unjust people say, but that the very thing which requires strength does not receive it, but half of it comes to nothing, more than half of the powers are wasted. Here, in these strips of woodland which run up the hills side by side, like organ-pipes, Henrik Vergeland had also roamed: within an ace, with him too, within an ace! Wonderful how the ravens174 gather together here, where so many people are hanging. Ha! ha! He must write this to his mother! It was something to write about to her, who had left him, who deserted175 him when he was the most unhappy, because all that she cared for was to keep her sacred person inviolate176, to maintain her obstinate177 opinion, to gratify her pique—Oh! what long hair!—How fast his mother was held! She had not cut her hair enough then. But now she should have her deserts. Everything from as far back as he could remember should be recalled, for once in a way he would show her herself; now he had both the power and the right. His powers of discovery had been long hidden under the suffocating178 sawdust of the daily and nightly sawing; but now it was awake, and his mother should feel it.
People noticed the tall man break out of the wood, jump over hedges and ditches, and make his way straight up the hill. At the very top he would write to his mother!—
He did not return to the hotel till dark. He was wet, dirty, and frightfully exhausted179. He was as hungry as a wolf, he said, but he hardly ate anything; on the other hand, he was consumed with thirst. On leaving the table he said that he wished to stay there a few days to sleep. They thought that he was joking, but he slept uninterruptedly until the afternoon of the next day. He was then awakened180, ate a little and drank a great deal, for he had perspired181 profusely182; after which he fell asleep again. He passed the next twenty-four hours in much the same way.
When he awoke the following morning he found himself alone.
Had not a doctor been there, and had he not said that it was a good thing for him to sleep? It seemed to him that he had heard a buzz of voices; but he was sure that he was well now, only furiously hungry and thirsty, and when he raised himself he felt giddy. But that passed off by degrees, when he had eaten some of the food which had been left there. He drank out of the water-jug—the carafe183 was empty—and walked once or twice up and down before the open window. It was decidedly cold, so he shut it. Just then he remembered that he had written a frightful letter to his mother!
How long ago was it? Had he not slept a long time? Had he not turned grey? He went to the looking-glass, but forgot the grey hair at the sight of himself. He was thin, lank184, and dirty.—The letter! the letter! It will kill my mother! There had already been misfortunes enough, more must not follow.
He dressed himself quickly, as if by hurrying he could overtake the letter. He looked at the clock—it had stopped. Suppose the train were in! He must go by it, and from the train straight to the steamer, and home, home to Hellebergene! But he must send a telegram to his mother at once. He wrote it—"Never mind the letter, mother. I am coming this evening and will never leave you again."
So now he had only to put on a clean collar, now his watch—it certainly was morning—now to pack, go down and pay the bill, have something to eat, take his ticket, send the telegram; but first—no, it must all be done together, for the train WAS there; it had only a few minutes more to wait; he could only just catch it. The telegram was given to some one else to send off.
But he had hardly got into the carriage, where he was alone, than the thought of the letter tortured him, till he could not sit still. This dreadful analysis of his mother, strophe after strophe, it rose before him, it again drove him into the state of mind in which he had been among the hills and woods of Eidsvold. Beyond the tunnel the character of the scenery was the same.—Good God! that dreadful letter was never absent from his thoughts, otherwise he would not suffer so terribly. What right had he to reproach his mother, or any one, because a mere chance should have become of importance in their lives?
Would the telegram arrive in time to save her from despair, and yet not frighten her from home because he was coming? To think that he could write in such a way to her, who had but lived to collect the information which would free him! His ingratitude185 must appear too monstrous186 to her. The extreme reserve which she was unable to break through might well lead to catastrophes187. What might not she have determined188 on when she received this violent attack by way of thanks? Perhaps she would think that life was no longer worth living, she who thought it so easy to die. He shuddered189.
But she will do nothing hastily, she will weigh everything first. Her roots go deep. When she appears to have acted on impulse, it is because she has had previous knowledge. But she has no previous knowledge here; surely here she will deliberate.
He pictured her as, wrapped in her shawl, she wandered about in dire152 distress190—or with intent gaze reviewing her life and his own, until both appeared to her to have been hopelessly wasted—or pondering where she could best hide herself so that she should suffer no more.
How he loved her! All that had happened had drawn a veil over his eyes, which was now removed.
Now he was on board the steamer which was bearing him home. The weather had become mild and summerlike; it had been raining, but towards evening it began to clear. He would get to Hellebergene in fine weather, and by moonlight. It grew colder; he spoke to no one, nor had he eyes for anything about him.
The image of his mother, wrapped in her long shawl—that was all the company he had. Only his mother! No one but his mother! Suppose the telegram had but frightened her the more—that to see HIM now appeared the worst that could happen. To read such a crushing doom191 for her whole life, and that from him! She was not so constituted that it could be cancelled by his asking forgiveness and returning to her. On the contrary, it would precipitate192 the worst, it must do so.
The violent perspiration began again; he had to put on more wraps. His terror took possession of him: he was forced to contemplate193 the most awful possibilities—to picture to himself what death his mother would choose!
He sprang to his feet and paced up and down. He longed to throw himself into somebody's arms, to cry aloud. But he knew well that he must not let such words escape him.—He HAD to picture her as she handled the guns, until she relinquished194 the idea of using any of them. Then he imagined her recalling the deepest hiding-places in the woods—where were they all?
HE recalled them, one after another. No, not in any of THOSE, for she wished to hide herself where she would never be found! There was the cement-bed; it went sheer down there, and the water was deep!—He clung to the rigging to prevent himself from falling. He prayed to be released from these terrors. But he saw her floating there, rocked by the rippling195 water. Was it the face which was uppermost, or was it the body, which for a while floated higher than the face?
His thoughts were partially196 diverted from this by people coming up to ask him if he were ill. He got something warm and strong to drink, and now the steamer approached the part of the coast with which he was familiar. They passed the opening into Hellebergene, for one has to go first to the town, and thence in a boat. It now became the question, whether a boat had been sent for him. In that case his mother was alive, and would welcome him. But if there was no boat, then a message from the gulf172 had been sent instead!
And there was no boat!—
For a moment his senses failed him; only confused sounds fell on his ear. But then he seemed to emerge from a dark passage. He must get to Hellebergene! He must see what had happened; he would go and search!
By this time it was growing dark. He went on shore and looked round for a boat as though half asleep. He could hardly speak, but he did not give in till he got the men together and hired the boat. He took the helm himself, and bade them row with all their might. He knew every peak in the grey twilight197. They might depend on him, and row on without looking round. Soon they had passed the high land and were in among the islands. This time they did not come out to meet him; they all seemed gathered there to repel198 him. No boat had been sent; there was, therefore, nothing more for him to do here. No boat had been sent, because he had forfeited199 his place here. Like savage beasts, with bristles200 erect201, the peaks and islands arrayed themselves against him. "Row on, my lads," he cried, for now arose again in him that dormant202 power which only manifested itself in his utmost need.
"How is it with you, my boy? I am growing weary. Courage, now, and forward!"
Again that voice outside himself—a man's voice. Was it his father's?
Whether or not it were his father's voice, here before his father's home he would struggle against Fate.
In man's direst necessity, what he has failed in and what he can do seem to encounter each other. And thus, just as the boat had cleared the point and the islands and was turning into the bay, he raised himself to his full height, and the boatmen looked at him in astonishment203. He still grasped the rudder-lines, and looked as though he were about to meet an enemy. Or did he hear anything? was it the sound of oars39?
Yes, they heard them now as well. From the strait near the inlet a boat was approaching them. She loomed204 large on the smooth surface of the water and shot swiftly along.
"Is that a boat from Hellebergene?" shouted Rafael. His voice shook.
"Yes," came a voice out of the darkness, and he recognised the bailiff's voice. "Is it Rafael?"
"Yes. Why did you not come before?"
"The telegram has only just arrived."
He sat down. He did not speak. He became suddenly incapable205 of uttering a word.
The other boat turned and followed them. Rafael nearly ran his boat on shore; he forgot that he was steering206. Very soon they cleared the narrow passage which led into the inner bay, and rounded the last headland, and there!—there lay Hellebergene before them in a blaze of light! From cellar to attic207, in every single window, it glowed, it streamed with light, and at that moment another light blazed out from the cairn on the hill-top.
It was thus that his mother greeted him. He sobbed208; and the boatmen heard him, and at the same time noticed that it had grown suddenly light. They turned round, and were so engrossed209 in the spectacle that they forgot to row.
"Come! you must let me get on," was all that he could manage to say.
His sufferings were forgotten as he leapt from the boat. Nor did it disturb him that he did not meet his mother at the landing-place, or near the house, nor see her on the terrace. He simply rushed up the stairs and opened the door.
The candles in the windows gave but little light within. Indeed, something had been put in the windows for them to stand on, so that the interior was half in shadow. But he had come in from the semi-darkness. He looked round for her, but he heard some one crying at the other end of the room. There she sat, crouched210 in the farthest corner of the sofa, with her feet drawn up under her, as in old days when she was frightened. She did not stretch out her arms; she remained huddled211 together. But he bent over her, knelt down, laid his face on hers, wept with her. She had grown fragile, thin, haggard, ah! as though she could be blown away. She let him take her in his arms like a child and clasp her to his breast; let him caress95 and kiss her. Ah, how ethereal she had become! And those eyes, which at last he saw, now looked tearfully out from their large orbits, but more innocently than a bird from its nest. Over her broad forehead she had wound a large silk handkerchief in turban fashion. It hung down behind. She wished to conceal73 the thinness of her hair. He smiled to recognise her again in this. More spiritualised, more ethereal in her beauty, her innermost aspirations212 shone forth without effort. Her thin hands caressed213 his hair, and now she gazed into his eyes.
"Rafael, my Rafael!" She twined her arms round him and murmured welcome. But soon she raised her head and resumed a sitting posture214. She wished to speak. He was beforehand with her.
"Forgive the letter," he whispered with beseeching215 eyes and voice, and hands upraised.
"I saw the distress of your soul," was the whispered answer, for it could not be spoken aloud. "And there was nothing to forgive," she added. She had laid her face against his again. "And it was quite true, Rafael," she murmured.
She must have passed through terrible days and nights here, he thought, before she could say that.
"Mother, mother! what a fearful time!"
Her little hand sought his: it was cold; it lay in his like an egg in a deserted nest. He warmed it and took the other as well.
"Was not the illumination splendid?" she said. And now her voice was like a child's.
He moved the screen which obstructed216 the light: he must see her better. He thought, when he saw the look of happiness in her face, if life looks so beautiful to her still, we shall have a long time together.
"If you had told me all that about Absalom, the picture which you made when you were told the story of David, Rafael; if you had only told me that before!" She paused, and her lips quivered.
"How could I tell it to you, mother, when I did not understand it myself?"
"The illumination—that must signify that I, too, understand. It ought to light you forward; do you not think so?"
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1
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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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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marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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belie
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| v.掩饰，证明为假 | |
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sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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idiotic
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forth
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impelled
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exalt
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decry
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| v.危难，谴责 | |
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repose
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savings
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undertaking
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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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mere
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ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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aloof
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temperament
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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obstinacy
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elevation
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peril
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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mellowing
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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anticipation
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heed
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fraught
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spoke
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agitated
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bent
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impatience
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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fascination
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boundless
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| adj.无限的；无边无际的；巨大的 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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disparaged
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| v.轻视( disparage的过去式和过去分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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50
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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51
veracity
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| n.诚实 | |
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52
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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53
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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54
oysters
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| 牡蛎( oyster的名词复数 ) | |
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55
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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56
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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57
delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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58
impure
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| adj.不纯净的，不洁的；不道德的，下流的 | |
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59
impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
talons
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| n.（尤指猛禽的）爪( talon的名词复数 )；（如爪般的）手指；爪状物；锁簧尖状突出部 | |
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61
perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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62
cohesion
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| n.团结，凝结力 | |
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63
permeated
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| 弥漫( permeate的过去式和过去分词 )； 遍布； 渗入； 渗透 | |
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64
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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65
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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66
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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67
innuendoes
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| n.影射的话( innuendo的名词复数 )；讽刺的话；含沙射影；暗讽 | |
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68
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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69
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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70
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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71
slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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72
vilified
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| v.中伤，诽谤( vilify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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74
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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75
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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76
extravagant
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|
| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
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77
mediocre
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| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
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78
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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79
desolate
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|
| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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80
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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81
entirely
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|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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82
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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83
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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84
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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85
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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86
squander
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| v.浪费，挥霍 | |
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87
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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88
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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89
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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90
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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91
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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92
penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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93
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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94
odiously
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| Odiously | |
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95
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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96
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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97
tempting
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| a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
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98
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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99
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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100
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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101
chafes
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的第三人称单数 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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102
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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103
overthrew
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| overthrow的过去式 | |
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104
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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105
squandered
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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106
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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107
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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108
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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109
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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110
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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111
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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112
deteriorated
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| 恶化，变坏( deteriorate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
stagnation
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| n. 停滞 | |
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114
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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115
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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116
reconciliations
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| 和解( reconciliation的名词复数 )； 一致； 勉强接受； （争吵等的）止息 | |
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117
repulsive
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| adj.排斥的，使人反感的 | |
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118
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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119
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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120
bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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121
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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123
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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124
mortified
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| v.使受辱( mortify的过去式和过去分词 )；伤害（人的感情）；克制；抑制（肉体、情感等） | |
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125
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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126
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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127
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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128
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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129
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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130
brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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131
jade
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| n.玉石；碧玉；翡翠 | |
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132
supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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133
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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134
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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135
retaliation
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| n.报复，反击 | |
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136
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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137
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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138
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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139
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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140
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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141
observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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142
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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143
underlay
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| v.位于或存在于（某物）之下( underlie的过去式 )；构成…的基础（或起因），引起n.衬垫物 | |
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144
shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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145
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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146
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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147
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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148
seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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149
magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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150
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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151
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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152
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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153
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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154
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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155
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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156
attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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157
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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158
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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159
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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160
fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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161
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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162
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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163
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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164
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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165
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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166
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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167
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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168
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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169
prospered
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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170
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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171
engulfed
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| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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172
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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173
boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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174
ravens
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| n.低质煤；渡鸦( raven的名词复数 ) | |
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175
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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176
inviolate
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| adj.未亵渎的，未受侵犯的 | |
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177
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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178
suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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179
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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180
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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181
perspired
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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182
profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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183
carafe
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| n.玻璃水瓶 | |
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184
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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185
ingratitude
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| n.忘恩负义 | |
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186
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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187
catastrophes
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| n.灾祸( catastrophe的名词复数 )；灾难；不幸事件；困难 | |
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188
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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189
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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190
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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191
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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192
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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193
contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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194
relinquished
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
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195
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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196
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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197
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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198
repel
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| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
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199
forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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200
bristles
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| 短而硬的毛发，刷子毛( bristle的名词复数 ) | |
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201
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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202
dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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203
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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204
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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205
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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206
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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207
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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208
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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209
engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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210
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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211
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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212
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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213
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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214
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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215
beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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216
obstructed
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| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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