The next day was destined1 to be one of the most extraordinary in the annals of the Maison Vauquer. Hitherto the most startling occerrence in its tranquil2 existence had been the portentous3, meteor-like apparition4 of the sham5 Comtesse de l'Ambermesnil. But the catastrophes6 of this great day were to cast all previous events into the shade, and supply an inexhaustible topic of conversation for Mme. Vauquer and her boarders so long as she lived.
In the first place, Goriot and Eugene de Rastignac both slept till close upon eleven o'clock. Mme. Vauquer, who came home about midnight from the Gaite, lay a-bed till half-past ten. Christophe, after a prolonged slumber7 (he had finished Vautrin's first bottle of wine), was behindhand with his work, but Poiret and Mlle. Michonneau uttered no complaint, though breakfast was delayed. As for Victorine and Mme. Couture, they also lay late. Vautrin went out before eight o'clock, and only came back just as breakfast was ready. Nobody protested, therefore, when Sylvie and Christophe went up at a quarter past eleven, knocked at all the doors, and announced that breakfast was waiting. While Sylvie and the man were upstairs, Mlle. Michonneau, who came down first, poured the contents of the phial into the silver cup belonging to Vautrin--it was standing8 with the others in the bain-marie that kept the cream hot for the morning coffee. The spinster had reckoned on this custom of the house to do her stroke of business. The seven lodgers9 were at last collected together, not without some difficulty. Just as Eugene came downstairs, stretching himself and yawning, a commissionaire handed him a letter from Mme. de Nucingen. It ran thus:-
"I feel neither false vanity nor anger where you are concerned, my friend. Till two o'clock this morning I waited for you. Oh, that waiting for one whom you love! No one that had passed through that torture could inflict10 it on another. I know now that you have never loved before. What can have happened? Anxiety has taken hold of me. I would have come myself to find out what had happened, if I had not feared to betray the secrets of my heart. How can I walk out or drive out at this time of day? Would it not be ruin? I have felt to the full how wretched it is to be a woman. Send a word to reassure11 me, and explain how it is that you have not come after what my father told you. I shall be angry, but I will forgive you. One word, for pity's sake. You will come to me soon, will you not? If you are busy, a line will be enough. Say, 'I will hasten to you,' or else, 'I am ill.' But if you were ill my father would have come to tell me so. What can have happened? . . ."
"Yes, indeed, what has happened?" exclaimed Eugene, and, hurrying down to the dining-room, he crumpled12 up the letter without reading any more. "What time is it?"
"Half-past eleven," said Vautrin, dropping a lump of sugar into his coffee.
The escaped convict cast a glance at Eugene, a cold and fascinating glance; men gifted with this magnetic power can quell13 furious lunatics in a madhouse by such a glance, it is said. Eugene shook in every limb. There was the sound of wheels in the street, and in another momend a man with a scared face rushed into the room. It was one of M. Taillefer's servants; Mme. Couture recognized the livery at once.
"Mademoiselle," he cried, "your father is asking for you-something terrible has happened! M. Frederic has had a sword thrust in the forehead in a duel14, and the doctors have given him up. You will scarcely be in time to say good-bye to him! he is unconscious."
"Poor young fellow!" exclaimed Vautrin. "How can people brawl15 when they have a certain income of thirty thousand livres? Young people have bad manners, and that is a fact."
"Sir!" cried Eugene.
"Well, what then, you big baby!" said Vautrin, swallowing down his coffee imperturbably16, an operation which Mlle. Michonneau watched with such close attention that she had no emotion to spare for the amazing news that had struck the others dumb with amazement17. "Are there not duels18 every morning in Paris?" added Vautrin.
"I will go with you, Victorine," said Mme. Couture, and the two women hurried away at once without either hats or shawls. But before she went, Victorine, with her eyes full of tears, gave Eugene a glance that said--"How little I thought that our happiness should cost me tears!"
"Dear me, you are a prophet, M. Vautrin," said Mme. Vauquer.
"I am all sorts of things," said Vautrin.
"Queer, isn't it?" said Mme. Vauquer, stringing together a succession of commonplaces suited to the occasion. "Death takes us off without asking us about it. The young often go before the old. It is a lucky thing for us women that we are not liable to fight duels, but we have other complaints that men don't suffer from. We bear children, and it takes a long time to get over it. What a windfall for Victorine! Her father will have to acknowledge her now!"
"There!" said Vautrin, looking at Eugene, "yesterday she had not a penny; this morning she has several millions to her fortune."
"I say, M. Eugene!" cried Mme. Vauquer, "you have landed on your feet!"
At this exclamation19, Father Goriot looked at the student, and saw the crumpled letter still in his hand.
"You have not read it through! What does this mean? Are you going to be like the rest of them?" he asked.
"Madame, I shall never marry Mlle. Victorine," said Eugene, turning to Mme. Vauquer with an expression of terror and loathing21 that surprised the onlookers22 at this scene.
Father Goriot caught the student's hand and grasped it warmly. He could have kissed it.
"Oh, ho!" said Vautrin, "the Italians have a good proverb--Col tempo23."
"Is there any answer?" said Mme. de Nucingen's messenger, addressing Eugene.
"Say that I will come directly."
The man went. Eugene was in a state of such violent excitement that he could not be prudent24.
"What is to be done?" he exclaimed aloud. "There are no proofs!"
Vautrin began to smile. Though the drug he had taken was doing its work, the convict was so vigorous that he rose to his feet, gave Rastignac a look, and said in hollow tones, "Luck comes to us while we sleep, young man," and fell stiff and stark25, as if he were struck dead.
"So there is a Divine Justice!" said Eugene.
"Well, if ever! What has come to that poor dear M. Vautrin?"
"A stroke!" cried Mlle. Michonneau.
"Here, Sylvie! girl, run for the doctor," called the widow. "Oh, M. Rastignac, just go for M. Bianchon, and be as quick as you can; Sylvie might not be in time to catch our doctor, M. Grimprel."
Rastignac was glad of an excuse to leave that den20 of horrors, his hurry for the doctor was nothing but a flight.
"Here, Christophe, go round to the chemist's and ask for something that's good for the apoplexy."
Christophe likewise went.
"Father Goriot, just help us to get him upstairs."
Vautrin was taken up among them, carried carefully up the narrow staircase, and laid upon his bed.
"I can do no good here, so I shall go to see my daughter," said M. Goriot.
"Selfish old thing!" cried Mme. Vauquer. "Yes, go; I wish you may die like a dog."
"Just go and see if you can find some ether," said Mlle. Michonneau to Mme. Vauquer; the former, with some help from Poiret, had unfastened the sick man's clothes.
Mme. Vauquer went down to her room, and left Mlle. Michonneau mistress of the situation.
"Now! just pull down his shirt and turn him over, quick! You might be of some use in sparing my modesty," she said to Poiret, "instead of standing there like a stock."
Vautrin was turned over; Mlle. Michonneau gave his shoulder a sharp slap, and the two portentous letters appeared, white against the red.
"There, you have earned your three thousand francs very easily," exclaimed Poiret, supporting Vautrin while Mlle. Michonneau slipped on the shirt again.--"Ouf! How heavy he is," he added, as he laid the convict down.
"Hush26! Suppose there is a strong-box here!" said the old maid briskly; her glances seemed to pierce the walls, she scrutinized27 every article of the furniture with greedy eyes. "Could we find some excuse for opening that desk?"
"It mightn't be quite right," responded Poiret to this.
"Where is the harm? It is money stolen from all sorts of people, so it doesn't belong to any one now. But we haven't time, there is the Vauquer."
"Here is the ether," said that lady. "I must say that this is an eventful day. Lord! that man can't have had a stroke; he is as white as curds28."
"White as curds?" echoed Poiret.
"And his pulse is steady," said the widow, laying her hand on his breast.
"Steady?" said the astonished Poiret.
"He is all right."
"Do you think so?" asked Poiret.
"Lord! Yes, he looks as if he were sleeping. Sylvie has gone for a doctor. I say, Mlle. Michonneau, he is sniffing29 the ether. Pooh! it is only a spasm30. His pulse is good. He is as strong as a Turk. Just look, mademoiselle, what a fur tippet he has on his chest; that is the sort of man to live till he is a hundred. His wig31 holds on tightly, however. Dear me! it is glued on, and his own hair is red; that is why he wears a wig. They say that redhaired people are either the worst or the best. Is he one of the good ones, I wonder?"
"Good to hang," said Poiret.
"Round a pretty woman's neck, you mean," said Mlle Michonneau, hastily. "Just go away, M. Poiret. It is a woman's duty to nurse you men when you are ill. Besides, for all the good you are doing, you may as well take yourself off," she added. "Mme. Vauquer and I will take great care of dear M. Vautrin.
Poiret went out on tiptoe without a murmur32, like a dog kicked out of the room by his master.
Rastignac had gone out for the sake of physical exertion33; he wanted to breathe the air, he felt stifled34. Yesterday evening he had meant to prevent the murder arranged for half-past eight that morning. What had happened? What ought he to do now? He trembled to think that he himself might be implicated35. Vautrin's coolness still further dismayed him.
"Yet, how if Vautrin should die without saying a word?" Rastignac asked himself.
He hurried along the alleys36 of the Luxembourg Gardens as if the hounds of justice were after him, and he already heard the baying of the pack.
"Well?" shouted Bianchon, "you have seen the Pilote?"
The Pilote was a Radical37 sheet, edited by M. Tissot. It came out several hours later than the morning papers, and was meant for the benefit of country subscribers; for it brought the morning news into provincial38 districts twenty-four hours sooner than the ordinary local journals.
"There is a wonderful history in it," said the house student of the Hopital Cochin. "Young Taillefer called out Count Franchessini, of the Old Guard, and the Count put a couple of inches of steel into his forehead. And here is little Victorine one of the richest heiresses in Paris! If we had known that, eh? What a game of chance death is! They say Victorine was sweet on you; was there any truth in it?"
"Shut up, Bianchon; I shall never marry her. I am in love with a charming woman, and she is in love with me, so----"
"You said that as if you were screwing yourself up to be faithful to her. I should like to see the woman worth the sacrifice of Master Taillefer's money!"
"Are all the devils of hell at my heels?" cried Rastignac.
"What is the matter with you? Are you mad? Give us your hand," said Bianchon, "and let me feel your pulse. You are feverish39."
"Just go to Mother Vauquer's," said Rastignac; "that scoundrel Vautrin has dropped down like one dead."
"Aha!" said Bianchon, leaving Rastignac to his reflections, "you confirm my suspicions, and now I mean to make sure for myself."
The law student's long walk was a memorable40 one for him. He made in some sort a survey of his conscience. After a close scrutiny41, after hesitation42 and self-examination, his honor at any rate came out scatheless43 from this sharp and terrible ordeal44, like a bar of iron tested in the English fashion. He remembered Father Goriot's confidences of the evening before; he recollected45 the rooms taken for him in the Rue46 d'Artois, so that he might be near Delphine; and then he thought of his letter, and read it again and kissed it.
"Such a love is my anchor of safety," he said to himself. "How the old man's heart must have been wrung47! He says nothing about all that he has been through; but who could not guess? Well, then, I will be like a son to him; his life shall be made happy. If she cares for me, she will often come to spend the day with him. That grand Comtesse de Restaud is a heartless thing; she would make her father into her hall porter. Dear Delphine! she is kinder to the old man; she is worthy48 to be loved. Ah! this evening I shall be very happy!"
He took out his watch and admired it.
"I have had nothing but success! If two people mean to love each other for ever, they may help each other, and I can take this. Besides, I shall cucceed, and I will pay her a hundredfold. There is nothing criminal in this liaison49; nothing that could cause the most austere50 moralist to frown. How many respectable people contract similar unions! We deceive nobody; it is deception51 that makes a position humiliating. If you lie, you lower yourself at once. She and her husband have lived apart for a long while. Besides, how if I called upon that Alsatian to resign a wife whom he cannot make happy?"
Rastignac's battle with himself went on for a long while; and though the scruples52 of youth inevitably53 gained the day, an irresistible54 curiosity led him, about half-past four, to return to the Maison Vauquer through the gathering55 dusk.
Bianchon had given Vautrin an emetic56, reserving the contents of the stomach for chemical analysis at the hospital. Mlle. Michonneau's officious alacrity57 had still further strengthened his suspicions of her. Vautrin, moreover, had recovered so quickly that it was impossible not to suspect some plot against the leader of all frolics at the lodging-house. Vautrin was standing in front of the stove in the dining-room when Rastignac came in. All the lodgers were assembled sooner than usual by the news of young Taillefer's duel. They were anxious to hear any detail about the affair, and to talk over the probable change in Victorine's prospects58. Father Goriot alone was absent, but the rest were chatting. No sooner did Eugene come into the room, than his eyes met the inscrutable gaze of Vautrin. It was the same look that had read his thoughts before--the look that had such power to waken evil thoughts in his heart. He shuddered59.
"Well, dear boy," said the escaped convict, "I am likely to cheat death for a good while yet. According to these ladies, I have had a stroke that would have felled an ox, and come off with flying colors."
"A bull you might say," cried the widow.
"You really might be sorry to see me still alive," said Vautrin in Rastignac's ear, thinking that he guessed the student's thoughts. "You must be mighty60 sure of yourself."
"Mlle. Michonneau was talking the day before yesterday about a gentleman named Trompe-la-Mort," said Bianchon; "and, upon my word, that name would do very well for you."
Vautrin seemed thunderstruck. He turned pale, and staggered back. He turned his magnetic glance, like a ray of vivid light, on Mlle. Michonneau; the old maid shrank and trembled under the influence of that strong will, and collapsed61 into a chair. The mask of good-nature had dropped from the convict's face; from the unmistakable ferocity of that sinister62 look, Poiret felt that the old maid was in danger, and hastily stepped between them. None of the lodgers understood this scene in the least, they looked on in mute amazement. There was a pause. Just then there was a sound of tramping feet outside; there were soldiers there, it seemed, for there was a ring of several rifles on the pavement of the street. Collin was mechanically looking round the walls for a way of escape, when four men entered by way of the sitting-room63.
"In the name of the King and the Law!" said an officer, but the words were almost lost in a murmur of astonishment64.
Silence fell on the room. The lodgers made way for three of the men, who had each a hand on a cocked pistol in a side pocket. Two policemen, who followed the detectives, kept the entrance to the sitting-room, and two more men appeared in the doorway65 that gave access to the staircase. A sound of footsteps came from the garden, and again the rifles of several soldiers rang on the cobblestones under the window. All chance of salvation66 by flight was cut off for Trompe-la-Mort, to whom all eyes instinctively67 turned. The chief walked straight up to him, and commenced operations by giving him a sharp blow on the head, so that the wig fell off, and Collin's face was revealed in all its ugliness. There was a terrible suggestion of strength mingled68 with cunning in the short, brick-red crop of hair, the whole head was in harmony with his powerful frame, and at that moment the fires of hell seemed to gleam from his eyes. In that flash the real Vautrin shone forth69, revealed at once before them all; they understood his past, his present, and future, his pitiless doctrines70, his actions, the religion of his own good pleasure, the majesty71 with which his cynicism and contempt for mankind invested him, the physical strength of an organization proof against all trials. The blood flew to his face, and his eyes glared like the eyes of a wild cat. He started back with savage72 energy and a fierce growl73 that drew exclamations74 of alarm from the lodgers. At that leonine start the police caught at their pistols under cover of the general clamor. Collin saw the gleaming muzzles75 of the weapons, saw his danger, and instantly gave proof of a power of the highest order. There was something horrible and majestic76 in the spectacle of the sudden transformation77 in his face; he could only be compared to a cauldron full of the steam that can send mountains flying, a terrific force dispelled78 in a moment by a drop of cold water. The drop of water that cooled his wrathful fury was a reflection that flashed across his brain like lightning. He began to smil
e, and looked down at his wig.
"You are not in the politest of humors to-day," he remarked to the chief, and he held out his hands to the policemen with a jerk of his head.
"Gentlemen," he said, "put on the bracelets79 or the handcuffs. I call on those present to witness that I make no resistance."
A murmur of admiration80 ran through the room at the sudden outpouring like fire and lava81 flood from this human volcano, and its equally sudden cessation.
"There's a sell for you, master crusher," the convict added, looking at the famous director of police.
"Come, strip!" said he of the Petite Rue Saint-Anne, contemptuously.
"Why?" asked Collin. "There are ladies present; I deny nothing, and surrender."
He paused, and looked round the room like an orator82 who is about to overwhelm his audience.
"Take this down, Daddy Lachapelle," he went on, addressing a little, white-haired old man who had seated himself at the end of the table; and after drawing a printed form from the portfolio83, was proceeding84 to draw up a document. "I acknowledge myself to be Jacques Collin, otherwise known as Trompe-la-Mort, condemned85 to twenty years' penal86 servitude, and I have just proved that I have come fairly by my nickname.--If I had as much as raised my hand," he went on, addressing the other lodgers, "those three sneaking87 wretches88 yonder would have drawn89 claret on Mamma Vauquer's domestic hearth90. The rogues91 have laid their heads together to set a trap for me."
Mme. Vauquer felt sick and faint at these words.
"Good Lord!" she cried, "this does give one a turn; and me at the Gaite with him only last night!" she said to Sylvie.
"Summon your philosophy, mamma," Collin resumed. "Is it a misfortune to have sat in my box at the Gaite yesterday evening? After all, are you better than we are? The brand upon our shoulders is less shameful92 than the brand set on your hearts, you flabby members of a society rotten to the core. Not the best man among you could stand up to me." His eyes rested upon Rastignac, to whom he spoke93 with a pleasant smile that seemed strangely at variance94 with the savage expression in his eyes.--"Our little bargain still holds good, dear boy; you can accept any time you like! Do you understand?" And he sang:
"A charming girl is my Fanchette In her simplicity95."
"Don't you trouble yourself," he went on; "I can get in my money. They are too much afraid of me to swindle me."
The convicts' prison, its language and customs, its sudden sharp transitions from the humorous to the horrible, its appalling96 grandeur97, its triviality and its dark depths, were all revealed in turn by the speaker's discourse98; he seemed to be no longer a man, but the type and mouthpiece of a degenerate99 race, a brutal100, supple101, clear-headed race of savages102. In one moment Collin became the poet of an inferno103, wherein all thoughts and passions that move human nature (save repentance) find a place. He looked about him like a fallen archangel who is for war to the end. Rastignac lowered his eyes, and acknowledged this kinship claimed by crime as an expiation104 of his own evil thoughts.
"Who betrayed me?" said Collin, and his terrible eyes traveled round the room. Suddenly they rested on Mlle. Michonneau.
"It was you, old cat!" he said. "That sham stroke of apoplexy was your doing, lynx eyes! . . . Two words from me, and your throat would be cut in less than a week, but I forgive you, I am a Christian105. You did not sell me either. But who did?----Aha! you may rummage106 upstairs," he shouted, hearing the police officers opening his cupboards and taking possession of his effects. "The nest is empty, the birds flew away yesterday, and you will be none the wiser. My ledgers107 are here," he said tapping his forehead. "Now I know who sold me! It could only be that blackguard Fil-de-Soie. That is who it was, old catchpoll, eh?" he said, turning to the chief. "It was timed so neatly108 to get the banknotes up above there. There is nothing left for you--spies! As for Fil-de-Soie, he will be under the daisies in less than a fortnight, even if you were to tell off the whole force to protect him. How much did you give the Michonnette?" he asked of the police officers. "A thousand crowns? Oh you Ninon in decay, Pompadour in tatters, Venus of the graveyard109, I was worth more than that! If you had given me warning, you should have had six thousand francs. Ah! you had no suspicion of that, old trafficker in flesh and blood, or I should have had the preference. Yes, I would have given six thousand francs to save myself an inconvenient110 journey and some loss of money," he said, as they fastened the handcuffs on his wrists. "These folks will amuse themselves by dragging out this business till the end of time to keep me idle. If they were to send me straight to jail, I should soon be back at my old tricks in spite of the duffers at the Quai des Orfevres. Down yonder they will all turn themselves inside out to help their general--their good Trompe-la-Mort--to get clear away. Is there a single one among you that can say, as I can, that he has ten thousand brothers ready to do anything for him?" he asked proudly. "There is some good there," he said tapping his heart; "I have never betrayed any one!--Look you here, you slut," he said to the old m
aid, "they are all afraid of me, do you see? but the sight of you turns them sick. Rake in your gains."
He was silent for a moment, and looked round at the lodgers' faces.
"What dolts111 you are, all of you! Have you never seen a convict before? A convict of Collin's stamp, whom you see before you, is a man less weak-kneed than others; he lifts up his voice against the colossal112 fraud of the Social Contract, as Jean Jacques did, whose pupil he is proud to declare himself. In short, I stand here single-handed against a Government and a whole subsidized machinery113 of tribunals and police, and I am a match for them all."
"Ye gods!" cried the painter, "what a magnificent sketch114 one might make of him!"
"Look here, you gentlemen-in-waiting to his highness the gibbet, master of ceremonies to the widow" (a nickname full of sombre poetry, given by prisoners to the guillotine), "be a good fellow, and tell me if it really was Fil-de-Soie who sold me. I don't want him to suffer for some one else, that would not be fair."
But before the chief had time to answer, the rest of the party returned from making their investigations115 upstairs. Everything had been opened and inventoried116. A few words passed between them and the chief, and the official preliminaries were complete.
"Gentlemen," said Collin, addressing the lodgers, "they will take me away directly. You have all made my stay among you very agreeable, and I shall look back upon it with gratitude117. Receive my adieux, and permit me to send you figs118 from Provence."
He advanced a step or two, and then turned to look once more at Rastignac.
"Good-bye, Eugene," he said, in a sad and gentle tone, a strange transition from his previous rough and stern manner. "If you should be hard up, I have left you a devoted119 friend," and, in spite of his shackles120, he managed to assume a posture121 of defence, called, "One, two!" like a fencing-master, and lunged. "If anything goes wrong, apply in that quarter. Man and money, all at your service."
The strange speaker's manner was sufficiently122 burlesque123, so that no one but Rastignac knew that there was a serious meaning underlying124 the pantomime.
As soon as the police, soldiers, and detectives had left the house, Sylvie, who was rubbing her mistress' temples with vinegar, looked round at the bewildered lodgers.
"Well," said she, "he was a man, he was, for all that."
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destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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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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portentous
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| adj.不祥的，可怕的，装腔作势的 | |
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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sham
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| n./adj.假冒(的)，虚伪(的) | |
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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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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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quell
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| v.压制，平息，减轻 | |
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duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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brawl
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| n.大声争吵，喧嚷；v.吵架，对骂 | |
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imperturbably
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| adv.泰然地，镇静地，平静地 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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duels
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| n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 )；竞争，斗争 | |
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exclamation
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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onlookers
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tempo
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prudent
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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26
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
curds
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| n.凝乳( curd的名词复数 ) | |
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29
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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30
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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31
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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32
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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33
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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34
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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35
implicated
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| adj.密切关联的；牵涉其中的 | |
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36
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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37
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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38
provincial
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| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
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39
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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40
memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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41
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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42
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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43
scatheless
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| adj.无损伤的，平安的 | |
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44
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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45
recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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47
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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48
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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49
liaison
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| n.联系，（未婚男女间的）暖昧关系，私通 | |
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50
austere
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| adj.艰苦的；朴素的，朴实无华的；严峻的 | |
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51
deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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52
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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53
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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54
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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55
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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56
emetic
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| n.催吐剂；adj.催吐的 | |
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57
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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58
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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59
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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60
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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61
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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62
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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63
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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64
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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65
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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66
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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67
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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68
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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69
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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70
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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71
majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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72
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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73
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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74
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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75
muzzles
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| 枪口( muzzle的名词复数 )； （防止动物咬人的）口套； （四足动物的）鼻口部； （狗）等凸出的鼻子和口 | |
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76
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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77
transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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78
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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79
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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80
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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81
lava
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| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
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82
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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83
portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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84
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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85
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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86
penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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87
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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88
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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89
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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90
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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91
rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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92
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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93
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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94
variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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95
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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96
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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97
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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98
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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99
degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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100
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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101
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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102
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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103
inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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104
expiation
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| n.赎罪，补偿 | |
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105
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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106
rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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107
ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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108
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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109
graveyard
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| n.坟场 | |
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110
inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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111
dolts
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| n.笨蛋，傻瓜( dolt的名词复数 ) | |
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112
colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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113
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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114
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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115
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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116
inventoried
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| vt.编制…的目录（inventory的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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117
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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118
figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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119
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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120
shackles
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| 手铐( shackle的名词复数 )； 脚镣； 束缚； 羁绊 | |
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121
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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122
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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123
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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124
underlying
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| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
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