With September the lovely weather suddenly broke up, and a few days later there was a great storm along the eastern seaboard. One morning news came to Heron Dyke1 that during the night a brig of some three hundred tons burden, the _Seamew_, bound from Dantzic to London, had struck on the Creffel Bank, and lay there a helpless wreck2. Two of the crew had been washed overboard; the rest, including the master, were rescued by the Easterby lifeboat. The Creffel Bank was known as one of the most dangerous spots on that part of the coast, and many a gallant3 craft had gone to pieces on its shifting and treacherous4 shoals.
Miss Winter at once sent Hubert Stone into the village with instructions to aid the shipwrecked men in whatever way might seem best. All of them, except the captain, expressed a desire to be forwarded to London, and were accordingly packed off by rail, their fares being paid by Hubert. As the brig did not at once break up, when the storm abated5 several boats went out to her, and in the course of a couple of days succeeded in landing that portion of her cargo6 which remained unspoiled, and most of her loose fittings; but the little _Seamew_ herself was so deeply imbedded in the sand that it was impossible to get her off, and the next gale7 would doubtless break her up entirely8.
One sunny afternoon, Ella took her sketchbook to the sands, and was dutifully accompanied by Mrs. Toynbee with a novel. But Ella was not long in discovering that she was in no mood for sketching9, that she was rather in a mood which inclined to day-dreaming, and to vague golden visions of some far-off future. Could it be that the recent visit of Edward Conroy had anything to do with these idle fancies?
At length she shut up her book with a little gesture of impatience10, and strolled slowly down to the farther shore. Mrs. Toynbee sighed and followed meekly12. Her seat had been a comfortable one, and she was in the middle of an interesting chapter; but duty is duty, however unpleasant it may be.
The tide was beginning to ebb14, and, as the two ladies paced the sands a little above high-water mark, they presently saw a boat propelled by a single rower making for the shore. The rower was Hubert Stone, and the boat belonged to him. He was fond of the water, and often went out for hours at a time, alone or accompanied by some friend. Ella stood and watched the boat coming in. It seemed to be making for the spot where she stood. Hubert's strong and regular strokes propelled it swiftly through the water, and in a little while it shot gently up the sands. Putting down his oars15, the young man stood up and raised his straw hat to Miss Winter. How handsome he looked as he stood there in the afternoon sunshine, with his coat thrown carelessly across his arm!
"Have you been far?" asked Ella, when he stepped ashore16.
"Only as far as New Nullington and back," answered Hubert.
"It must be very pleasant on the water to-day."
"Very pleasant indeed. There is quite a refreshing17 breeze when you get a little way out. What do you say, Miss Ella, to letting me pull you and Mrs. Toynbee as far as the _Seamew_ and back?"
Miss Winter looked at Mrs. Toynbee.
"Oh, that would be very charming, I think," said the latter lady: and they did not observe that she spoke18 half ironically.
"Who is on board the brig?" asked Ella.
"George Petherton is there now," said Hubert. "If the weather holds up fine, they hope to be able to save some more of the cargo; meanwhile George remains19 there in charge."
"Then let us go. We shall get back in time for dinner."
She knew George Petherton well. He was one of the oldest and steadiest boatmen round Easterby.
Without more ado, Ella stepped lightly into the boat and sat down. Hubert held out his hand to Mrs. Toynbee. But, at the last moment, that lady's heart failed her; in fact her bravery had been but put on. Involuntarily she drew back a step or two.
"There is not the slightest cause for alarm, ma'am," said Hubert.
But the boat was a very small one, and looked dreadfully unsafe, she thought. Then the wreck was more than two miles away, and what was it that Mr. Stone had just said about there being a pleasant breeze when you got away from shore? How could any breeze be pleasant at sea?
"I--I don't feel very well, and I think, my dear, I must ask you to excuse me," she said to Ella, with a little quaver of the voice.
"You are not afraid, are you?" asked Ella, with a smile. "The breeze when we get out will do you good."
Mrs. Toynbee shuddered21.
"Really, my dear, I should feel pleased if you would excuse me," she said. "I am not at all myself this afternoon: and I am apt to be so very ill upon the water. Do excuse me--and I will wait for you here."
"Well, I should like to go," responded Ella. "I should like to see the wreck, and I shall not be long away. You can watch me skimming over the water."
"I will," assented23 Mrs. Toynbee, with an air of relief. "I wish you _bon voyage_, and a safe return."
Hubert waited for no more. He pushed the boat into deeper water, then got in and took up his oars. He wanted no Mrs. Toynbee in it, not he, and was glad matters had turned out so. That lady stood on the sands waving her handkerchief till they were quite a quarter of a mile away from shore, and then sat down to continue her novel.
But--it may as well be at once mentioned--the expedition took longer than Mrs. Toynbee had expected. She grew tired of waiting, felt rather chilly24, for she had but a thin gauze shawl on, and she got up at length and went back to the Hall.
Hubert Stone rowed on with strong steady strokes, feeling like a man who cannot be sure whether he is dreaming or awake. Could it be true, he asked himself, that he and his sweet mistress were alone together--alone on the waste of waters where no living soul could come between them? Together, yes; but in reality as far as the poles asunder25. Still, to be so near her, to have her as it were all to himself, though only for one short hour, was both a pleasure and a pain unspeakable. If they could but have gone on thus for ever, sailing away into infinity26, and never touching27 land again, unless it were some desert island untrodden by any footsteps save their own! Wild, foolish longings28! In an hour their little voyage would be at an end, and never again, in all human probability, would Ella and he be in a boat together; never alone, as they were to-day. He needed no prophet to tell him that. Never again!
By-and-by Ella roused herself from her reverie: for she too had fallen into one. They were nearing the wreck. It lay low on its sandy bed, slightly heeled over to starboard. There was little more of it left than the bare hull29. Masts and bowsprit had been unshipped and carried away.
"How quiet and deserted30 it looks!" she exclaimed. "I don't see George Petherton."
"We shall have a splendid sunset," remarked Hubert, as he rested for a moment on his oars, and taking no notice of her words. "See there, Miss Winter!"
"Yes, many of those cloud-effects are very lovely!"
A few more minutes brought them close to the wreck. Ella was looking at it steadfastly31.
"I do not see George Petherton," she again remarked.
"He is probably below deck, smoking his pipe, or trying to fish up some more of the cargo. George is not the sort of man to care for sunset-effects." Hubert said this with a short, hard laugh, which Ella, preoccupied32, took little notice of. It was well perhaps that she did not see the expression of his face. It had changed strangely during the last few minutes. His mouth was hard-set, and in his eyes there sat a look which might have been set down as compounded of despair, burning passion, and desperate resolve.
Hubert shipped his oars, and made a trumpet33 of his hands to sing out. "Hillo there! Petherton--Petherton, I say, where are you?" But there came no answer; there was no sign of life whatever on board the wreck.
"Can he have gone ashore?" exclaimed Ella, quickly.
"Not likely," returned Hubert. "He is shut in below, smoking his pipe, and cannot hear: perhaps has dropped asleep. I will go and arouse him. But let me help you on board first, Miss Winter.--Hark! yes, George is there, safe enough. I hear him."
He brought the boat up under the lee of the wreck, made her fast with a rope, sprang lightly on the _Seamew's_ deck, and turned to assist Miss Winter.
But Ella held back. "Go and tell him to come and help you to get me up," she said laughingly.
Hubert disappeared down the cabin stairs. He did not come back immediately. Left alone in the boat, Ella began to feel anxious, vaguely34 uneasy. Could she but have divined his treachery! He knew perfectly35 well that George Petherton was not on board, that he had gone ashore at mid13-day.
Hubert made his way aft into a little room, not much bigger than a rabbit-hutch, but which was in reality the captain's cabin. Here he found a keg of hollands, still about one-third full; near it was a horn drinking-cup. Twice in quick succession he filled the cup with neat spirits and drank it off. He was very pale, and there lay still that same strange lurid36 light in his eyes.
After drinking the spirits, he stood rigid37 as a statue, his hands clenched38, his eyes fixed39 on the ground. "His or mine--his or mine?" he muttered under his breath. "Not his--not his! Death before that."
Once again he filled the cup and drank its contents. Then he pressed his hand to his heart for a moment, as though to still some wild commotion40 there; and then, as if afraid to hesitate any longer, he made his way quickly back on deck.
Ella was watching anxiously for him. The moment she saw his white set face, she became filled with alarm. "What is amiss?" she cried, her fears flying to the boatman. "Is Petherton ill? Has anything happened to him?"
"Yes," shortly replied Hubert; "not much. You had better come on board, Miss Winter."
Ella did not hesitate another moment. She had known George Petherton all her life, and liked him greatly. A thought came over her that the man might have fallen and hurt himself amidst the damaged cordage and rigging.
"Put one foot there and the other here, and give me your hand," said Hubert. Miss Winter, active and fearless, did as she was bidden. Next moment she was standing41 on the deck.
"You will find him aft in the captain's cabin, if you go down," said Hubert.
Thinking only of the poor old boatman, Ella went slowly down the little staircase, and was presently lost to view. When Hubert could no longer see her, he gave a great gasp42, and, sinking on one knee, he laid his head against the bulwarks43 of the brig. "What have I done? What have I done?" he cried. "It is too late now to turn back. Too late!"
He rose slowly when he heard the young lady's returning footsteps. She came up looking about her.
"I can't find George Petherton," she said. "He is not below. I thought you told me----"
"I told you a lie, Miss Winter. Petherton went ashore hours ago."
Ella gazed at him in amazement44.
"Then why did you say he was on board? What does all this mean?"
"Oh, are you blind?--cannot you guess?" he burst forth45, unfolding his arms and drawing a step nearer to her.
Ella, on her part, stepped back: she was becoming frightened at the matter altogether, and at the fierce, dreadful look in his eyes.
"I brought you here, knowing we should be alone and beyond the reach of men, to tell you a secret, Miss Winter. I brought you here because I love you," he added, flinging himself on his knees before her; "because I cannot live another day without telling you! I have you to myself here, and none can interfere46."
"Get up instantly," she indignantly cried, with all the bravery she could command. "Never let me hear another word of this folly47. Help me into the boat again: I will return to the shore." Her heart was beating very fast and all the colour had left her lips, but there was a fine fire of anger in her eyes.
"Folly! yes, that is the word for it," answered Hubert, as he rose to his feet. "Not until you have listened to the whole tale of folly do you leave this spot."
"You would not dare to detain me?" said Ella, proudly.
"Indeed, but I would: I do. Being in the mood, I would dare much more than that," boasted Hubert. The spirit he had taken was beginning to take effect upon him. "Oh, my sweet mistress!" he resumed, his manner changing to softness, "why do you scorn me thus? How was it possible for me daily to see you and not love you? Do you think I have willingly brought this misery48 on myself? You have blighted49 my life, but what of that?--it has been one long worship of you. I have loved you ever since the days when we used to gather blackberries in the lanes with your nurse, and dig for pretty shells in the sand."
He paused with emotion. Ella felt more scared with every word.
"Why did not Fate make me your equal instead of your servant? Surely the force of my love would have drawn50 yours in return. I have hands to work for you, I have a brain to plan for you, I have love that would never grow cold. I am not without manners or education; but, despite all these things, the world does not count me--a gentleman. I am but a son of the soil, and I must not dare to look up to any lady with the eyes of love."
His tone, full of anguish--almost of despair, was respectful now. Despite Ella's indignation, she felt some compassion51 for him.
"You must forget all this," she said, with gentle gravity: "and I will try to forget that you have spoken as you have to-day. You have an honourable52 career before you if you choose to follow it, and you may rely upon my doing all that is in my power to further your interests. But never must you address me in this strain again; recollect53 that. And now I shall be glad if you will row me ashore."
What a revelation his words had been to her! A thousand little tokens, never noticed before, flashed across her memory.
But Hubert made no movement towards the boat.
"Forget all this! never speak of it again!" he exclaimed with renewed bitterness. "What easy words to say! There is one thing I should like to remind you of, Miss Ella; it may lessen54 my seeming presumption55. My mother was a lady born; but she left friends, station, everything, to follow my father's humble56 fortunes. Other gentlewomen there are, who have sacrificed all for love, and deemed the world well lost."
This persistence57 annoyed Ella while it frightened her. She had never seen the expression on his face that it wore this afternoon, and she shuddered while she looked. Surely this could not be the Hubert Stone she had known for so many years! It was the spirit of some demon58 which had got possession of him and was looking out of his eyes. She had seen that other kind of spirit below, and rightly deemed that he had been making free with it. It might not answer to be too severe with him.
"Will you not let me go? I am tired," she said, pleasantly. "You are not like yourself, Hubert. I hardly know you this afternoon."
"Faith, I hardly know myself," he answered, with a strange, jarring laugh. "It is all your fault: you have ruined me, body and soul."
Ella cast an imploring59 glance towards the distant shore. She was growing desperately60 frightened. Again his mood changed to tenderness.
"Oh, my sweet mistress, is there no hope for me?" he wailed61. "Is there none, none? No man else could love you as I love; no heart could be as faithful as mine would be."
"Hubert Stone, enough of this," cried Ella, her fears merged62 in her indignation. "Once and for all, understand that you could never be anything to me in the way you speak of. If you have the slightest spark of honour, you will not persecute63 me further."
There was scorn in her voice and indignation in her eyes, but never had he seen her look more beautiful than at that moment.
"I wish the lightning of your eyes could strike me dead at your feet," he exclaimed. "It would be better both for you and me. I know it is useless to ask for that which it is not in your power to give. Your secret is known to me, Miss Winter, well hidden though it be. You love another, and you believe that he loves you in return."
She opened her lips to answer, but closed them again. A lovely colour flushed the alabaster64 of her cheeks.
Close to the bulwarks she had drawn now, and could get no farther away. He stepped nearer, and laid one finger lightly on her arm.
"I heard all that passed between you and him the other evening," he said, staring straight into her eyes.
"All that passed between _whom?_" gasped65 Ella.
"Between you and that man--that Mr. Conroy--your lover. I heard his low-voiced questions and all your soft replies. You gave no scorn or contempt to him: yet am I not as good as he, and do I not love you a thousand times better?"
"Let me pass, sir, this moment! How dare you insult me thus!" she cried, brought to bay. "If I could but strike him to the ground!" was her unspoken thought.
"You shall go when I am ready to let you go, and not one minute before," answered Hubert. "You love this man: I know it from the way you speak to him, from the way you look at him. And he loves you--apparently. But--I beg you listen to me, Miss Winter. I have something I must say. That man is wise in his generation. He waited until your uncle was dead, and Heron Dyke yours, and then--not before, mark you--he comes with his low, honeyed words to steal away your heart. But now--are you listening?"
What could she do but listen?
"Dare to wed11 that man," he went on, "and, on the day you do so, the secret I have kept for your sake shall be a secret no longer. The world shall ring with it."
"A secret for my sake!" she exclaimed in her surprise.
"It would be a grand thing for this adventurer, this journalist--this newspaper hack66, to become the master of Heron Dyke, would it not? _He_ thinks so. But that he shall never be."
"Be silent, sir. You know not what you are saying."
"Unfortunately, I know too well. Should he marry you, he will not find you the heiress he expects. He will find too late that his wife has no more title to the estates of Heron Dyke than I have; that what she holds, she holds by _fraud_. By fraud alone."
"By fraud!" Anxious though she was to get away, Hubert's words startled her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean this, Miss Winter. A dozen words from me, and Heron Dyke would know you as its mistress no more."
"Then speak those words," said Ella, bravely. "It is your bounden duty to do so. I have no wish to keep what belongs to another."
Her tone was clear and decided67. She believed there was something in this: that he meant what he said.
"Why should I speak them--and injure you? No. Give up this man, who cares only for your money, and my lips shall be sealed for ever."
"Do your duty, that is all I ask. I have no other word to say to you."
"Will you promise to give up this man?"
"No."
"Beware! You are driving me to desperation."
"I cannot help that."
"You have not a better word to say to me?"
"Not one."
"So be it. You have driven me to do it. Remember that."
"What would you do?" she asked, a little faintly.
"You shall see."
He crossed to where the boat that had brought them was tied to the wreck. He unfastened the rope that held it, and let it drop into the water. Then he took up a broken spar and pushed the boat away. The tide was still on the ebb, and the boat floated slowly out to sea.
Ella sprang forward.
"You would not murder me!" she exclaimed.
"No, I will not murder you," he answered, quietly. "But since the Fates have willed that we shall not live together, we can at least die together."
Ella sank back faint and dizzy. Could it be that the only link between themselves and the shore was really broken? There was no other boat near, and two miles of water intervened between the wreck and the land. It was terrible to think of the doom68 to which this madman had possibly condemned69 her.
Madman! Was it not likely that he was one in reality? It flashed across Ella's mind that, long years before, she had heard that Hubert Stone's mother had died insane. Had he inherited the awful malady70, and had this day's agitation71 brought it suddenly out? In terrible fear she glanced across at him.
He was standing on the opposite side of the deck, lighting72 a cigar. His hat was off, and the breeze ruffled73 his black, silky hair. Could anything but madness account for his actions this afternoon? Ella shuddered and hid her eyes, and tried to think. The pulses of life beat strongly within her. It was hard to realise that the end--and such an end--was so near.
Presently Hubert came a little nearer. He was puffing74 quietly at his cigar. All traces of his previous excitement had disappeared.
"The barometer75 has been going down all day," he observed, "and the wind is beginning to rise. It will blow a gale during the night, the wreck will break up, and when daylight comes, the _Seamew_ will have disappeared for ever."
Miss Winter made no answer.
"A few days hence," he resumed slowly, "two bodies will be washed ashore--those of a man and a woman; and the woman will be so closely locked in the arms of the man that people will not be able to separate them. They will be buried together, and she who would not be his bride in life shall be his bride for ever in the grave."
"That shall never be," said Ella to herself, with a shudder22. But she spoke no word aloud.
"Meanwhile, Miss Winter, you have nothing to fear. We have still some hours before us."
By this time the boat looked a mere76 speck77 in the distance. Sunset splendours flooded the western sky. In mid heaven, borne swiftly away by some upper current, were ragged78 shreds79 and fragments of cloud, looking like crimson80 fleeces that had been roughly torn asunder; but in the north and north-east an ominous-looking bank of sullen81 sky was climbing out of the sea, and creeping slowly up towards the zenith. There was not much wind, but what there was blew in fitful puffs82 that went as suddenly as they came, hurrying away to whisper elsewhere of the coming storm. The tide had begun to turn, and was bringing with it a heavier swell83. Now and then the timbers of the ship creaked and strained; it was as though the brave old brig knew that its end was near, and could not repress its groans84. In another hour darkness would reign86 over land and sea.
Hubert went on smoking in silence, lighting a second cigar when the first one was finished, and--what could Ella say? Even if she were to appeal to him to save her life, and he listened to her appeal, it would be useless. The boat was gone beyond recovery, and with it their last chance of reaching the shore. A few short hours, and then would come the bitter end; one brief struggle, and that coil of joys, sorrows, and perplexities which we call Life would have snapped like a broken dream, and the unknown awful dawn of Eternity87 would be shining in her eyes.
She was sitting crouched88 up against the bulwarks, her face hidden in her hands. Never had the wheels of thought moved more swiftly, she had so many things to think of, and so little time to give to them! She thought of Mrs. Toynbee sitting placidly89 reading her novel in the drawing-room at Heron Dyke--for that she had gone home ere this, Ella did not doubt--looking at her watch occasionally, and wondering what had become of the runaway90, but otherwise quietly enjoying herself.
Next her thoughts flew off to Edward Conroy. Where was he at that moment, and what was he doing? Oh! if he only knew the bitter strait she was in! Ella no longer attempted to disguise from herself the fact that she loved him. Would she ever see him again on earth? A blinding rush of tears filled her eyes, and for a little while she felt as if the bitterness of death were already upon her. But before long she grew calmer, silently praying that help and strength might be given her; and she did not pray in vain.
"Are you not cold, Miss Ella?" asked Hubert, by-and-by. "Is there nothing I can do for you?"
"I am not cold, and all my wish is to be left alone," she answered.
He turned away with a groan85, and muttered something under his breath.
"I would give my heart's blood for you," he cried passionately91. "But you shall never be the wife of that man. I have sworn it, and I will keep my oath. We will die together."
Striding off, he gave a look round at the weather, and went below. Probably in search of more hollands.
Ella rose to her feet as he disappeared. She felt cramped92 and chilled, and everything seemed to swim before her. She strained her eyes across the darkling waters, and, while she was looking, the lamps of Easterby lighthouse flashed suddenly out. The sight made her heart beat more quickly. With help so near, it was hard to realise that there was no help for her. The great bank of cloud was still creeping slowly up, and the wind was beginning to pipe more shrilly93. What was that madman doing below? If he would but stay there, and not come on deck again!
But--while she was looking and listening--a strange, wild idea, born of despair, flashed across her mind as suddenly and clearly as the rays from the lighthouse lamps had flashed across her sight. For a moment she stood with her fingers pressed to her temples, asking herself whether she should do this thing or not. Yes! In it lay her only hope of rescue. The staircase which Hubert had gone down could be shut up in bad weather, by means of a hinged door, which at present stood wide open. It was the work of a moment for Ella to shut this door and shoot the bolt into the staple94. Her enemy was a prisoner.
Broken boxes and other wreckage95 lumbered96 the deck. There was also a small tub containing a quantity of tar20. Ella quickly made a pile of these boxes, and poured the tar over them. Then she tore a number of leaves out of her sketchbook and put them under the boxes. Hubert's fusee-box lay close by, where he had left it. After some little difficulty, she succeeded in setting light to the paper, the tar caught fire, and in a little while a bright sheet of flame was leaping toward the sky.
This was effected just as Hubert found out that he was imprisoned97. He shook the door and flung himself against it with all his strength. To no purpose. He found a heavy piece of wood, and began battering98 the door with all his might. The blows filled Ella's soul with affright. Surely, surely, she said to herself, her signal would be seen from shore, and help would come--sent by God. But--would it come in time? would it come before that caged madman succeeded in breaking loose? She was partly crouching99, partly kneeling, a little way off the fire.
Suddenly, the faint sound of what seemed a far-off shout fell upon her straining ears. Even while she asked herself whether it was only fancy, it grew more distinct. Help must be approaching. The revelation was too much for her. Hubert's blows grew fainter in her ears, and she fell on the deck bereft100 of sense and feeling.
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dyke
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| n.堤，水坝，排水沟 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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entirely
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sketching
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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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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ashore
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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remains
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tar
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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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22
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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25
asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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longings
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| 渴望，盼望( longing的名词复数 ) | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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33
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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34
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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36
lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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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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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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bulwarks
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| n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 )；保障；支柱；舷墙 | |
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44
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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50
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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51
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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52
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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53
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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54
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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58
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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persecute
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| vt.迫害，虐待；纠缠，骚扰 | |
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alabaster
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| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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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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malady
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| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
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71
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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72
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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73
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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74
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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75
barometer
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| n.气压表，睛雨表，反应指标 | |
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76
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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77
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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78
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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79
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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81
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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82
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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83
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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84
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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85
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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86
reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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87
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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88
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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89
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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90
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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91
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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92
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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93
shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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94
staple
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| n.主要产物，常用品，主要要素，原料，订书钉，钩环；adj.主要的，重要的；vt.分类 | |
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95
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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96
lumbered
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| 砍伐（lumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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97
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
battering
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| n.用坏，损坏v.连续猛击( batter的现在分词 ) | |
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99
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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100
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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