The large gathering12 of ships mentioned above--they mustered13 one hundred and twenty-four--formed the fleet under the command of Admiral Vernon, and in that fleet were also numbers of soldiers and marines who constituted what, in those days, were termed the Land Forces. There were also a large contingent15 of volunteers from our American colonies, drawn16 principally from Virginia.
The presence here both of sailors and soldiers was due to a determination arrived at by the authorities at home in the year 1739, to harass17 and attack the Spanish West Indian Islands and possessions in consequence of England being once again, as she had been so often in the past, at war with Spain. Now that fleet lay off Cartagena and the neighbourhood; some of the officers and men--both sailors and soldiers--were ashore18 destroying the forts near the sea; the grenadiers were also ashore; the bomb-ketches were at this very moment playing upon the castles of San Fernando and San Angelo; the siege of Cartagena had begun.
Upon the quarter-deck of one of the vessels20 of war composing the great fleet, a vessel19 which may be called the Ariadne, the captain walked now as the storm passed away and the morning broke in all its fair tropical beauty, and while there came the balmy spice-laden breeze from the South American coast--a breeze soft as a maiden's first kiss to him she loves; one odorous and sweet, and luscious21, too, with the scents22 of nutmeg and banana, guava and orange, begonia, bignonia, and poinsettia, all wafted23 from the flower-laden shore. But because, perhaps, such perfumes as these, such rippling24 blue waves, now crested25 with their feathery tips, such a bright warm sun, were not deemed by Nature to be the fitting accompaniments to the work which that fleet had to do and was about to do--she had provided others.
Near the ship which has been called the Ariadne, alongside the great and noble flagship, the Russell, passing slowly--but deadly even in their slowness!--through the line made by the Cumberland, the Boyne, the Lion, the Shrewsbury, and a score of others, went the hideous26 white sharks of the Caribbean Sea, showing sometimes their gleaming, squinting27 eyes close to the surface of the water and showing always their dorsal28 fin29 as the water rippled30 by them.
"The brutes31 know well that they will be fed ere long," the captain--Henry Thorne--said, half to himself, half aloud, as he gazed through the quarter-deck starboard port; "they know it very well. Trust them."
"They must know it, sir," said the chaplain, a fine rosy-cheeked gentleman, who had already had his morning draught32, wherefore his cheeks looked shiny and brilliant--he having been standing33 near Thorne while he murmured to himself--"specially since they have been fed enough already by our fleet. Three went overboard only yesterday from the Weymouth. While we are here they will never leave us."
"So-so," the captain said. "So-so. 'Tis very true." Then, turning to the chaplain, he asked, "How is it with her below? Have you seen the surgeon's mate? What does he say? Is her hour of trial near?"
"It is very near," the other answered. "Very near. Pray Heaven all may go well. Ere long we may hope to congratulate you, sir, upon paternal34 honours. 'Tis much to be desired that the Admiral will give no signal for the bombardment to commence until Mrs. Thorne is through her peril35."
"At least I hope so. With all my heart. Poor girl! Poor girl! I would never have brought my wife on board, Mr. Glew, had I known either of two things. The first that she was so near her time; the second, that we should be ordered to join this squadron--to quit our station at Port Royal."
Whereby, as you may gather by this remark of Captain Thorne, the Ariadne was not one of those great war vessels which had sailed from England under the order of the Admirals. Instead, she had come down from Jamaica, where she was stationed, to join the fleet now before Cartagena.
Then the captain continued--
"If the Admiral does open the attack this morning 'twill be a fine hurly-burly for a child to be born amidst. Surely, if 'tis a boy, he should live to do great things. He may be a bold sailor--or soldier, at least. He may go far, too; do well. He will be fortunate also in his worldly gear. I--I--am not rich, Glew, but he--or she--will be some day an heir or heiress to much property and wealth that must come my way at last if I live. If I live," he repeated, more to himself than to his companion.
"You have not made your will yet, sir?" the parson asked, rubbing his chin, which was red and almost raw from the use of a bad razor that morning. "The will you talked about. As a chaplain who, on board ship, is also supposed to be something of a lawyer, I feel it right to tell you that you should do so. No man who is before the enemy, whatever his standing, should neglect so important an office as that."
"I will not neglect it, Mr. Glew. Let the child but be born and I will perform it in my cabin the moment I know the good news." Then, changing the subject, he asked, "Will they let me see her if I go below, think you?"
"I will make inquiries," the other said, going towards the after-hatch. "Yet," he went on, as he put his foot on the ladder beneath, "I doubt it. The event is very near at hand. The wife of the master-at-arms, as well as the wife of the ship's corporal, are with her--they rule all. But I will go see," and his head followed his body and disappeared.
Left alone, or at least without the companionship of Mr. Glew, for none could be alone on board such a ship as this was--even though she might have been making a pleasant cruise on summer seas; while more especially, none could be alone when that ship was one of a large number engaged in a bombardment--the captain went about his duties. He visited the gun decks and saw that all were at their proper stations, inspected the twenty-four, twelve, and nine pounders, swivel guns, stern and bow chasers, and indeed, everything that could throw a ball; he saw that sponges and rammers were ready, and that every bolt and loop was in working order. He neglected nothing, no more than he would have done had his young wife been at home at Deptford or Portsmouth, and he without the knowledge that at the present time, she was about to make him a father.
Yet, all the same, his thoughts were never absent from her, his bride of a year; again and again he lamented36 bitterly that she had come upon this cruise with him. Why, he asked himself repeatedly, could he not have left her behind in Port Royal, where she would have been well and carefully attended to, and where he could have joined her after this siege was over? He had been mad to bring her! Already the bomb-ketches were making a hideous din2 all around; already, too, some of the great ships of war had received their orders to open fire, and were obeying those orders; from the forts on shore a horrible noise was being kept up as they replied to the attackers in a more or less irregular and perfunctory manner.
"What surroundings," he muttered to himself, breaking off even as he did so to bawl37 orders to the men in the tops to train their swivel guns more accurately38 upon the shore, "what surroundings for a little helpless babe to be born in the midst of. What surroundings!"
They were, however, to become worse--far worse for the poor mother below; surroundings more terrible and awful to accompany the birth of a new-born child.
Commodore Lestock, with his broad red pennant39 hoisted40, tapering41 and swallow-tailed, went in to bombard all the forts along the shore, and after him followed an appointed number of the ships in his squadron. It was a noble sight, one that might have caused--and doubtless did cause--many hearts to beat enthusiastically in their owners' breasts. Along the line of other vessels which they passed, cheer rang upon cheer; the bands of the flagships, and others which possessed42 such music, played "Britons, Strike Home." Soon five hundred great guns were firing on those forts, which replied with courage; the din was tremendous, as also was the vibration43 caused to each of the vessels while the flames belched44 forth and the guns shook. And in the middle of the cannonading--when, on board, one could not see across the ship, nor from the mizzen to the main shrouds46 on either side--the chaplain, staggering on to the upper deck, his handkerchief to his nose and mouth to keep out the saltpetre from his lungs, ran against Captain Thorne giving orders for a marine14 who had been wounded by a shot from the shore to be carried below.
"Sir," Mr. Glew said hastily, and clutching the captain by the arm, "sir, I offer my congratulations. It----"
"Is well over?" Thorne exclaimed. "Is that it?"
"It is that, sir. And the child is----"
"What?"
"A girl."
"A girl," the captain repeated, while even amongst all the roar of the cannonading, Glew seemed to think he heard a tone of disappointment in the other's voice.
"So-so!" Thorne exclaimed a moment later. "Well, carry down my love to my dear wife. I must not leave the deck now. Say--say--that I will be below ere long. Say that I--am--rejoiced."
* * * * * * *
Meanwhile, what was passing below in the captain's cabin--which had been set aside for his wife ever since her hour drew nigh; he sleeping in a spare one close by? Independently of it being now a chamber47 in which a young and beautiful wife had just become a mother, as well as a room in great disorder48, there were other things which, in any circumstances, must have caused it to present an appearance of extreme confusion. Naturally, all the pictures had been unshipped, since the concussion49 of the guns would otherwise have brought them from the bulkheads to the floor, or deck, to say nothing of shivering any glass they might possess. And also all china and glass in the cabin, and the pretty knick-knacks which Thorne had bestowed50 about it, were removed from their usual positions. Whereby the apartment in the Ariadne, in which Mrs. Thorne had but recently presented a child to her husband, was even more disarranged than it would ordinarily have been, Likewise, every port and scuttle51 was opened, so that thus some of the concussion should be avoided, and the cabin was thereby52 made less hot and stuffy53 than such a place would otherwise have been in this climate. Yet it was but a poor place in which to bring a fresh body and soul, into a troublous world--a poor place in which a child should first open its eyes upon the light.
"Dear, dear!" said Mrs. Tickle54, the wife of the master-at-arms, she thinking thus, as she wiped the perspiration55 from Mrs. Thorne's face. "Dear, dear! What a place for the sweet young thing to give birth to a babe in. Yet," and, as she spoke56, she took a sip57 of rumbullion from a cannikin close to her hand, and then passed it over to Mrs. Pottle, the wife of the ship's corporal, "it might have been wuss. My first was born in Havant Work'us', Tickle being away with Captain Clipperton at the time."
"Ha!" said Mrs. Pottle, as she in her turn took a sip of the toothsome liquor. "Indeed, and it might have been wuss. Even now it may be so. What if one of them forts should plump a round shot into us below the water-line? Then there won't soon be no Captain Thorne, nor Mistress Thorne, nor baby either."
"Nor yet no Mrs. Tickle nor Mrs. Pottle," said the other. Whereupon each took another drink at the rumbullion to calm their nerves, which, in truth, needed little calming, since this was not the first battle, or rather bombardment, in which these good ladies had taken part. For, in those days of a century and a half ago, it was common enough for the wives of the petty officers and the lower-deck men to sail on board ships with their husbands, they doing much such work therein as, in these days, is done by soldier's wives who are on the "strength of the regiment58." They could also turn their hands to other things, even as Mrs. Tickle and Mrs. Pottle were now doing. For they were almost always excellent nurses, understanding much about wounds and fevers and other complaints, and quite capable of working under, and sometimes of advising, the raw sawbones whom the Admiralty sent into the ships of war to cure--or kill--the sailors.
"Is the battle over?" Mrs. Thorne asked feebly, opening her eyes now as she spoke, and endeavouring in her newly-developed maternal59 love, to turn them down upon the tiny mite60 lying on her breast.
"Over, deary!" said Mrs. Tickle, sinking the character of the inferior woman who was in the presence of the superior, and speaking only as a good-hearted, motherly creature, which indeed she was, to another who needed her care. "Not yet, poor lamb. Lawk's sakes," she whispered to her comrade, "can't she hear the guns a-belching? Ah! drat you all," she muttered, as at this moment a larboard broadside bellowed61 forth, causing the ship to tremble at her keelson; "that's them lower deck twenty-four pounders at it again. Poor dear, she don't seem to hear or feel them, anyhow."
She should have done so, indeed she must have done so, since even as the roaring continued, while the Ariadne was brought round so that now her starboard broadside could be fired, she lifted her arms feebly and enfolded more tightly to her breast than she had done before the little atom she had but recently brought into the world.
"My child," she moaned, "my child! Oh what can your future be with such a beginning as this? What shocks and tempests must threaten the existence that commences in such turbulence and throes as these."
"You 'ear," said the master-at-arms' wife to the wife of the ship's corporal, "you 'ear! She is quite calm and full of understanding. Ah! poor dear." Whereupon she stretched out her hand once more for the can of rumbullion.
And even now, as each of these women in the cabin listened to the uproar62 without, that uproar seemed to increase. Half a dozen vessels were firing at once; the battery which had been constructed ashore by those who had landed overnight was adding to the tumult63; the bo'sun's pipes were heard whistling like some shrill-voiced bird that sings its loudest amidst the violence of a summer storm; the master-gunner's voice was heard on board the Ariadne giving his orders. And there came too, the sound of a hideous crash in the vessel, the rending64 of timbers, the shrieks65 of sailors, who were doubtless wounded--bellows, shouts and curses.
"The ship is struck," said Mrs. Tickle, calm and tranquil66 as became a sailor's wife who had been in battle before. "Pray Heaven 'tis not below the water-line."
"Nor that the magazine is set afire," said Mrs. Pottle, also with heroic coolness. "Otherwise we have got our passage to Davy Jones. Yet," she continued, the woman rising above the Amazon, "I have three poor little children at home in Portsmouth town. And one is a'most blind. God help them, what shall they do if Pottle and I have got our discharge!"
While, even as she spoke of her children, that other child, the newly-born babe present in the cabin, set up a piteous infantine wail67. Little, unconscious creature as it was, bearing a brain but an hour old, it seemed to recognise, to have some glimmering68 of the terrors that enveloped69 it. And while it did so the ship listed to starboard, causing Mrs. Thorne's body to move somewhat, and, at the same moment, the white, delicate hands seemed to strain the infant closer to her; the liquor can, too, was upset, whereby the drink went slopping over the cabin carpet. But the other two matrons were not to be stopped, even at that moment, from doing their duty. Mrs. Tickle sprang up and held the ailing70 woman tightly in her berth71, as she muttered--
"The ship has listed four degrees. Yet she goes no further. They have stopped the water from pouring in. Go, Pottle, and find the surgeon. He must come here, even though he quits the wounded for an instant."
Whereon Mrs. Pottle went forth, a heroine still, though a white, pale-faced one. A heroine, not thinking of her own life--now in deadly peril!--but only of the little children at home in Portsmouth town. Above all, she thought of the half-blind one who could never do aught for itself when it grew up. She thought of it, and wondered who would protect it when she and her husband were gone.
"My husband, my husband!" wailed72 Mrs. Thorne, as she and the other woman were left alone. "My husband! Will he not come to me? To me. To his wife and new-born babe. Oh! my husband. Why comes he not?"
"Dear heart," exclaimed Mrs. Tickle, "he cannot come. His duty is on deck. Duty before all." Then she bent73 her head a little nearer to the other's, and said, "We are sailors' wives. Our duty first. Duty before all," she repeated.
As she did so the cabin door was slid back, and Mrs. Pottle returned, bringing with her the surgeon's mate from the sick bay--a young, callow Irishman, who was now making his first cruise. The surgeon, an old man, who had an army of children of his own at home in Rotherhithe, had attended Mrs. Thorne through her trouble, but now he was busy with those who were wounded and in the cock-pit. He could not come.
The mate was very pale--too pale, thought Mrs. Tickle, for a sailor-doctor to be, even though he were smelling powder for the first time. Then, to that good lady's astonishment74, as she cast her eyes on her nursing comrade, she saw that she too was very pale--was white--ghastly. And in a moment she imagined, guessed, that the ship's corporal was dead! By that freemasonry, by some telegraphic method of the eyes, which women alone know how to use, she signalled to the other to ask if such were the case, yet only to discover that she had not divined aright. Mrs. Pottle shook her head; then, seeing that the eyes of the captain's wife were wide open, she stepped behind the surgeon's mate, and from the screen of his broad back put her finger to her lip. Thereby not knowing what else she meant, Mrs. Tickle understood at least that silence was to be observed.
"My husband," moaned Mrs. Thorne again now, gazing up into the dark eyes of the handsome young fellow who looked so white, "my husband--I want him."
"Nay75, madam," he said, even as he felt her pulse and arranged her more comfortably in the berth, "nay, not yet; the bombardment is not over." While, turning his head round, he whispered to Mrs. Pottle behind him, "You have left the cabin door open; shut it."
It was well she obeyed him at once. Well that, amidst fresh discharges of the twenty-four pounders, another crash on deck and a noise which was the fall of the foremast, added to the piercing cries of the child, Mrs. Thorne could not hear nor see beyond that door. Well that it was shut immediately on the order of the surgeon's mate.
For now six sailors were carrying down the after-ladder a helpless, limp body at that moment--one that was to be laid in the very next cabin to that which Mrs. Thorne was occupying. The body of Henry Thorne, with a bullet in it that had pierced the heart.
And behind them came the chaplain, shaking his head sadly, yet muttering somewhat thankfully, too--
"But he made that will. He made that will. And the child is safe. Although it seems, no will was needed, yet it is as well that he should have made it."
* * * * * * *
For many years after her father's death Ariadne's home was with her mother at Gosport, and here she grew from childhood to womanhood, and became a sweet, pure girl, whom to see was at once to admire. A girl so fair and pretty, that, whenever she walked abroad, the eyes of men were turned towards her approvingly; a girl, tall, and with a figure that full womanhood would develop into one of extreme grace and beauty; one who possessed also such charms as deep hazel eyes, which looked out at you from between thick eyelashes that were many shades darker than the fair hair crowning her head as though with a golden diadem76; a pretty girl whose masses of curls reminded one of the cornfields in July.
For years she lived with her mother here in Gosport, having done so from the time when Vernon sent them both home to England in the first ship of war that went back after Mrs. Thorne was able to travel. And of all the neighbourhood around she was the pet; she was, too, the darling of old sea captains who had had arms and legs lopped off in many a fierce fight against those whom we called our old "hereditary77 foes"; the darling of every old blue who had drawn cutlass for His Majesty78 King George II., or King George I., or even, amongst the very old and decrepit79, for Great Anne; the beloved of those sea-dogs who had first spat80 their quids out on the enemy's decks and had then hewn that enemy down before them. For these old salts, no matter what their rank was, regarded her as their own child and property. Had she not been born amidst the roar and smoke of England's cannon45 as they vomited81 forth fire and fury? Was she not a sailor's child, and he one who had fallen as a sailor should fall, dying on his own deck, while doing his duty? That was enough to make them love the little thing who grew beneath their eyes towards beauteous womanhood; enough to make old lieutenants82 who had served sufficiently83 long to be admirals, and admirals--fortunate dogs!--who had not seen half the service of those old lieutenants, worship her; to make them wander up to her mother's house and smoke their pipes there, and talk to her about the father who had died the glorious death. It was sufficient, too, to set old tars84 carving85 out ornaments86 and knick-knacks from ancient ships of war which had been towed as prisoners into the harbour and there broken up, all of which they presented to her with grins of pleasure, and almost with blushes--if such could be!--upon their wind-tanned, scarred faces. It was amply sufficient also to cause others to bring her in baskets of strawberries and raspberries from their little gardens on the outskirts87 of the town, and bouquets88 of the sweet old-time flowers that grew in such profusion89 in those gardens. And some there were--and many--who called her the "Sailor's Pet," and others who named her the "Mariner's Joy."
Yet 'twas not only the old who loved Ariadne Thorne. Be very sure of that. For you cannot but suppose that the young men loved her too--those lieutenants and second lieutenants who, although still beardless, had fought in many of the numerous sea-fights of the period. Young fellows with boyish faces who had, all the same, been with Hawke at the Isle90 of Aix, and Howe at St. Malo, or had assisted in the destruction of the Oriflamme by the Monarque and the Monmouth. They all loved her, and she loved one, and one alone. Happy, happy man!
Two years before this narrative91 begins, however, and when Ariadne was sixteen, there fell upon her a great blow, that of her mother's death--a blow which, when it strikes a young girl in her swift blossoming from maidenhood92 to womanhood, is doubly cruel. Mrs. Thorne died of an internal disorder with which she had been for some time afflicted93, and the girl was left alone, or almost alone, in the world. She had a relative, it was true, an uncle of her late father's, one General Thorne; but he was a very old man--so old, indeed, that he could talk of Eugene's campaign against the Turks, and speak of that great soldier as one whom he had seen in boyhood; while he was also able to boast that he had formed one of the guard of honour which had accompanied the present King, George II., now grown old, to his coronation. He dwelt at, and owned, an estate spoken of generally as "Fawnshawe Manor94," which lay five miles or so on the London side of Portsmouth; one that would at his death come, with a very considerable fortune, to Ariadne herself. A fortune and an estate which would have come to her eventually through her father had he not been slain95 at Cartagena, even without his making that will which his chaplain, the Reverend Mr. Glew, had so impressed on him to do, although it was unnecessary; that must have come to her, since no heir male existed to deprive her of it, or to step in between her and it.
She had likewise a friend, a true and steadfast96 friend, one who loved her as, next to her mother, no other woman could have loved her. A hard, rugged97 woman was this friend, with a deep voice and corrugated98 face, yet possessing within her bosom99 a heart of gold; the woman who had assisted at her birth--Mrs. Pottle, now growing old.
"Ah!" this good creature would moan sometimes as she sat by her fireside, either in her own room in the house at Gosport, or, later, in her parlour at the lodge100 at Fanshawe Manor, which she came to occupy later. "Ah! if Ariannie," as she pronounced the loved one's name, "was not left to me, mine would be a weary lot. Pottle, he've gone; he done his duty, but he've gone; at Anson's victory off Finisterre, it were. And as to all my children--oh!" she would exclaim, "there! I can't abide101 to dwell on them. Oh! my children," whereon--because old customs grow on us and are hard to shake off--the brave sailor-woman would endeavour to console herself with something from a black bottle.
But she was true as steel to "her little child," as she called Ariadne; true and loving as her honest English heart, as any honest woman's heart, could be. She had not attended to all the child's wants since the black day off Cartagena in '41; had not nursed and attended to Ariadne for years, nor told her--in company with her own little ones--of fierce and turbulent sea-fights and land-fights, without becoming a foster-mother to her. So, now, she accompanied the girl, clad in her deep mourning and weeping sorrowfully for her loss, and also for having to quit the little house where she had lived so happily for the great one where she did not know whether she would be happy or not. She accompanied Ariadne, sitting by her side in the coach and calling her "deary" and "dear heart," and bidding her cheer up, because the General--"although he hadn't the luck to be an admiral"--was reported to be kind and good.
"And," she would say more than once, "remember that, as the lawyer told you, you go to what is your inheritance. It will be all your'n, and you will rule over it like a young queen until some day you love one who will rule over you."
Practically, that was what Ariadne did do after a few short months; she did rule over the house for her great-uncle, as, ere long, she was to do it for herself. General Thorne was now helpless with old age, and was glad to know that, already, the girl was in the home which must so soon be hers; that she was there to bring sunlight into the great vast house which, through the Fanshawes, had by intermarriage come into the possession of the Thornes.
As Mrs. Pottle had said, she presided over it like a young queen, graciously and kindly102, making herself beloved all around the place, yet not forgotten by those old sailors amongst whom her earliest days had been passed. She became its mistress from then until now, when this history opens, and when "Ariadne Thorne" was a toast in the county, while many gentlemen of various degrees aspired103 to win both her hand and her love. When, too, others aspired to win that hand, not so much because they desired to obtain her love so much as, in its stead, they desired the possession of Fanshawe Manor and the hundred thousand guineas which were reported to be her fortune.
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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turbulence
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| n.喧嚣，狂暴，骚乱，湍流 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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marine
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| adj.海的；海生的；航海的；海事的；n.水兵 | |
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contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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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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harass
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| vt.使烦恼，折磨，骚扰 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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luscious
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| adj.美味的；芬芳的；肉感的，引与性欲的 | |
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22
scents
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| n.香水( scent的名词复数 )；气味；（动物的）臭迹；（尤指狗的）嗅觉 | |
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23
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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25
crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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26
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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28
dorsal
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| adj.背部的，背脊的 | |
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29
fin
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| n.鳍；(飞机的)安定翼 | |
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30
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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31
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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32
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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33
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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34
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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35
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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36
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
bawl
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| v.大喊大叫，大声地喊，咆哮 | |
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38
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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39
pennant
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| n.三角旗；锦标旗 | |
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40
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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42
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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43
vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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44
belched
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| v.打嗝( belch的过去式和过去分词 )；喷出，吐出；打（嗝）；嗳（气） | |
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45
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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46
shrouds
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| n.裹尸布( shroud的名词复数 )；寿衣；遮蔽物；覆盖物v.隐瞒( shroud的第三人称单数 )；保密 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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49
concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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50
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
scuttle
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| v.急赶，疾走，逃避；n.天窗；舷窗 | |
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52
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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53
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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54
tickle
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| v.搔痒，胳肢；使高兴；发痒；n.搔痒，发痒 | |
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55
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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56
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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57
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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58
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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59
maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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60
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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61
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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62
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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63
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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64
rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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65
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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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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glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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69
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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71
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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72
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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74
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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75
nay
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| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
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76
diadem
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| n.王冠，冕 | |
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77
hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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78
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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79
decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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80
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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81
vomited
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82
lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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83
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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84
tars
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| 焦油，沥青，柏油( tar的名词复数 ) | |
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85
carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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86
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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87
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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88
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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90
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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91
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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92
maidenhood
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| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
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93
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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95
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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96
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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97
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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98
corrugated
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| adj.波纹的；缩成皱纹的；波纹面的；波纹状的v.（使某物）起皱褶(corrugate的过去式和过去分词) | |
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99
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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100
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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101
abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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102
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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103
aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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