"Hi! Jean, whose is this luggage?" cried Pierre Janvard one morning to his head waiter. He pointed1 at the same time to a large portmanteau which lay among a pile of other luggage in the hall of the Three Crowns Hotel, Bath.
With that restless curiosity which was such a marked trait in his character, Janvard had a habit of peering about among the luggage of his guests, and even of prying2 stealthily about their bedrooms when he knew that their occupants were out of the way, and he himself safe from detection. It was not that he hoped to benefit himself in any way, or even to pick up any information that would be of value to him, by such a mode of proceeding3; but it had been a habit with him from boyhood to do this kind of thing, and it was a habit that he could by no means overcome.
Passing through the hall this morning, his eye had been attracted by a pile of luggage belonging to several fresh arrivals, and he at once began to peer among the labels. The second label that took his eye was inscribed4, "Richard Dering, Esq., Passenger to Bath." Janvard stood aghast as he read the name. A crowd of direful memories rushed to his mind. For a moment or two he could not speak. Then he called Jean as above.
"That portmanteau," answered Jean, "belongs to a gentleman who came in by the last train. He and another gentleman came together. They wanted a private sitting-room5, and I put them into number twenty-nine."
"Has the other gentleman any luggage?"
"Yes, this large black bag belongs to him." Janvard stooped and read: "Tom Bristow, Esq., Passenger to Bath." "Quite strange to me, that name," he muttered to himself. At this moment the boots came, and shouldering the luggage, hurried with it upstairs.
"They have ordered dinner, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you hear them say how long they were likely to stay here?"
"No, sir."
"Wait on them yourself at dinner. Bear in mind all that they talk about, and report it to me afterwards."
"Yes, sir."
Pierre Janvard retired6 to his sanctum considerably7 disturbed in mind. Was the fresh arrival any relation or connection of the dead Lionel Dering, or was it merely one of those coincidences of name common enough in everyday life? These were the two questions that he put to himself again and again.
One thing was quite evident to him. Himself unseen, he must contrive8 to see this unknown Richard Dering. If there were a possibility of the slightest shadow of danger springing either from this or from any other quarter, it behoved him to be on his guard. He would see these people, after which, if requisite9, he would at once write to Mr. Kester St. George for instructions.
He had just brought his cogitations to an end, and had opened his banker's passbook10, the contemplation of which was a never-failing source of joy to him, when a tap came to the door, and next moment in walked Mr. Richard Dering and Mr. Tom Bristow.
It was on the face of this Richard Dering that Pierre Janvard's eyes rested first. In one brief glance he took in every detail of his appearance. Then his eyes fell. His sallow face grew sallower still. His thin lips quivered for a moment, and then his hands began to tremble slightly, so that in a little while he was obliged to take them off the table and bury them in his pockets.
He saw at once that this Mr. Dering must be a near relative of that other Mr. Dering whose face he remembered so well--whose face it was impossible that he should ever forget. They were alike, and yet strangely unlike: the same in many points, and yet in others most different. But the moment this dark-looking stranger opened his lips, it seemed indeed as if Lionel Dering had come back from the grave. A covert11 glance at Mr. Bristow assured Janvard that in him he beheld12 a man whose face he had no recollection of having ever seen before.
"Your name is Janvard, I believe?" said Mr. Dering, with a slight bow.
"Pierre Janvard at your service," answered the Frenchman, deferentially15.
"You were formerly16, I believe, in the service of Mr. Kester St. George?"
"I had that honour."
"My name is Dering--Richard Dering. It is probable that you never heard of me before, seeing that I have only lately returned from India. I am cousin to Mr. Kester St. George."
The Frenchman bowed. "I have no recollection of having heard monsieur's name mentioned by my late employer."
"I suppose not. But my brother's name--Lionel Dering--must be well known to you."
Janvard could not repress a slight start So that was the relationship, was it?
"Ah, yes," he said. "I have seen Mr. Lionel Dering many times, and done several little services for him at one time or another."
"You were one of the chief witnesses on the trial, if I recollect13 rightly?"
Janvard coughed, to gain a moment's time. The conversation was taking a turn that he did not approve of. "I certainly was one of the witnesses on the trial," he said, with an air of deprecation. "But monsieur will understand that it was a misfortune which I had no means of avoiding. I could not help seeing what I did see, and they made me tell all about it."
"Oh, we quite understand that," said Mr. Dering. "You were not to blame in any way. You could not do otherwise than as you did."
Janvard smiled faintly, and bowed his gratification.
"My friend here, Mr. Bristow, and myself, have come down to stay a week or two in your charming city. The doctors tell me there is something the matter with my spleen, and have recommended me to drink the Bath waters. Hearing casually17 that you were the proprietor18 of one of the most comfortable hotels in the place, and looking upon you somewhat in the light of a connection of the family, we thought that we could not do better than take up our quarters with you."
Again Janvard smiled and bowed his gratification. "Monsieur may depend upon my using my utmost endeavours to make himself and his friend as comfortable as possible. Pardon my presumption19, but may I venture to ask whether Mr. St. George was quite well when monsieur saw or heard from him last?"
"My cousin was a little queer a short time ago, but I believe him to be well again by this time." Mr. Dering turned to go. "We have given your waiter instructions as to dinner," he said.
"I hope my chef will succeed in pleasing you," said Janvard., with a smile. "He has the reputation of being second to none in the city." With the same smile on his face he followed them to the door and bowed them out, and, still smiling, watched them till they turned the corner of the street. "No danger there, I think," he said to himself. "None whatever. Still I must keep on the watch--always on the watch. I must look to their dinners myself, and leave them nothing to complain of. But I shall be very much pleased indeed when they call for their bill: very much pleased to see the last of them."
Said Tom to Lionel, as they were walking arm-in-arm towards the pump-room: "Did you notice that magnificent ring which Janvard wore on the third finger of his left hand?"
"I could not fail to notice it. I was thinking about it at the very moment you spoke20."
"I have not seen so splendid a ruby21 for a long time. The setting, too, is rather unique."
"Yes, it was the peculiar22 setting that caused me to recognize it again."
"That caused you to recognize it! You don't mean to say that you have ever seen the ring before?"
"I certainly have seen it before."
"Where?"
"On the finger of Percy Osmond."
Tom halted suddenly and stared at Lionel as if he could hardly believe the evidence of his ears.
"I am stating nothing but the simple truth," continued Lionel. "The moment I saw the ring on Janvard's finger the thought flashed through me that I had certainly seen it somewhere before. All the time I was talking to Janvard I was trying to call that somewhere to mind, but it did not come to me till after we had left the hotel--not, in fact, till a minute before you spoke about it."
"Are you sure you are not mistaken? There are many ruby rings in the world."
"I don't for one moment think that I am mistaken," answered Lionel deliberately23. "If the ring worn by Janvard be the one I mean, it has three initial letters engraved24 inside the hoop25. What particular letters they are I cannot now recollect. I chanced to express my admiration26 of the ring one night in the billiard-room, and Osmond took it off his finger in order that I might examine it. It was then I saw the letters, but without noticing them with sufficient particularity to remember them again."
"I always had an idea," said Tom, "that Janvard was in some way mixed up with the murder, and this would seem to prove it. He must have stolen the ring from Osmond's room either immediately before or immediately after the murder."
"I must see that ring," said Lionel decisively. "It must come into my possession, if only for a minute or two, if only while I ascertain28 whether the initials are really there."
"I don't think that there will be much difficulty about that," said Tom. "The fellow has no suspicion as to whom you really are, or as to the object of our visit to Bath. To admire the ring is the first step: to ask to look at it the second."
A quarter of an hour later Lionel gripped Tom suddenly by the arm. "Bristow," he whispered, "I have just remembered something. Osmond had that ruby ring on his finger the night before he was murdered! I have a distinct recollection of seeing it on his hand when we were playing that last game of billiards29 together."
"If this ring," said Tom, "prove to be the one you believe it to be, the finding of it will be another and a most important link in the chain of evidence."
"Yes--almost, if not quite, the last one that we shall need," said Lionel.
At dinner that evening Janvard in person took in the wine. The eyes of both Lionel and Tom fixed30 themselves instinctively31 on his left hand. The ring was no longer there.
"Can he suspect anything?" asked Lionel of Tom, as soon as they were alone.
"I think not," answered Tom. "The fellow is evidently uneasy, and will continue to be so as long as you stay under his roof But the very openness of our proceedings32, and the frank way in which we have told him who we are, will go far to disarm33 any suspicions which he might otherwise have entertained."
Two or three days passed quietly over. Lionel drank the waters with regularity34, and he and Tom drove out frequently in the neighbourhood of King Bladud's beautiful city. Janvard always gave them a look in in the course of dinner to see that everything was to their satisfaction; but he still carefully abstained35 from wearing the ring.
By-and-by there came a certain evening when Janvard failed to put in his usual appearance at the dinner table. Said Tom to the man who waited upon them: "Where is your master this evening? Not ill, I hope?"
"Gone to a masonic banquet, sir," answered the man.
"Then he won't be home till late, I'll wager36."
"Not till eleven or twelve, I dare say, sir.
"Gone in full fig37, of course?" said Tom, laughingly.
"Yes, sir," answered the man with a grin.
"Diamond studs and ruby ring, and everything complete, eh?" went on Tom.
"I don't know about diamond studs, sir," said the man, "but he certainly had his ring on, for I saw it on his finger myself."
"Now is our time," said Tom to Lionel, as soon as the man had left the room. "We may not have such an opportunity again."
It was close upon midnight when Pierre Janvard, alighting from a fly at the door of his hotel, found his two lodgers38 standing39 on the steps smoking a last cigar before turning in for the night. In this there was nothing unusual--nothing to excite suspicion.
"Hallo! Janvard, is that you?" cried Tom, assuming the tone and manner of a man who has taken a little too much wine. "I was just wondering what had become of you. This is my birthday: so you must come upstairs with us, and drink my health in some of your own wine."
"Another time, sir, I shall be most happy; but to-night----"
"But me no buts," cried Tom. "I'll have no excuses--none. Come along, Dering, and we'll crack another bottle of Janvard's Madeira. We'll poison mine host with his own tipple40."
He seized Janvard by the arm, and dragged him upstairs, trolling out the last popular air as he did so. Lionel followed leisurely41.
"You're a good sort, Janvard--a deuced good sort!" said Tom.
"Monsieur is very kind," said Janvard, with a smile and a shrug42; and then in obedience43 to a wave from Tom's hand, he sat down at table. Tom now began to fumble44 with a bottle and a corkscrew.
"Allow me, monsieur," said Janvard, politely, as he relieved Tom of the articles in question, and proceeded to open the bottle with the ease of long practice.
"That's a sweet thing in rings you've got on your finger," said Tom, admiringly.
"Yes, it is rather a fine stone," said Janvard, dryly.
"May I be allowed to examine it?" asked Tom, as he poured out the wine with a hand that was slightly unsteady.
"I should be most happy to oblige monsieur," said Janvard, hastily, "but the ring fits me so tightly that I am afraid I should have some difficulty in getting it off my finger."
"Hang it all, man, the least you can do is to try," cried Tom.
The Frenchman flushed slightly, drew off the ring with some little difficulty, and passed it across the table to Tom. Tom's fingers clutched it like a vice14. Janvard saw the movement and half rose, as if to reclaim45 the ring; but it was too late, and he sat down without speaking.
Tom pushed the ring carelessly over one of his fingers, and turned it towards the light. "A very pretty gem46, indeed!" he said. "And worth something considerable in sovereigns, I should say."
"Will you allow me to examine it for a moment?" asked Lionel gravely, as he held out his hand. For the second time Janvard half rose from his seat, and for the second time he sat down without a word. Tom handed the ring across to Lionel.
"A magnificent stone, indeed," said the latter, "but somewhat old-fashioned in the setting. But that only makes it the more valuable in my eyes. A family heirloom, without doubt. And see! inside the hoop are three initials. They are somewhat difficult to decipher, but if I read them aright they are M. K. L."
"Yes, yes, monsieur," said Janvard, uneasily. "As you say, M. K. L. The initials of the friend who gave me the ring." He held out his hand, as if expecting that the ring should at once be given back to him, but Lionel took no notice of the action.
"Three very curious initials, indeed," said Lionel, musingly47. "One could not readily fit them to many names. M. K. L. They put me in mind of a curious coincidence--of a very remarkable48 coincidence indeed. I once had a friend who had a ruby ring very similar to this one, and inside the hoop of my friend's ring were three initials. The initials in question were M. K. L. Precisely49 the same as the letters engraved on your ring, Monsieur Janvard. Curious, is it not?"
"Mille diables! I am betrayed!" cried Janvard, as he started from his seat, and made a snatch at the ring. But Lionel was too quick for him. The ring had disappeared, but Janvard had it not.
He turned with a snarl50 like that of a wild animal brought to bay, and looked towards the door. But between him and the door now stood Tom Bristow, no longer with any signs of inebriety51 about him, but as cold, quiet, and collected as ever he had looked in his life. Tom's right hand was hidden in the bosom52 of his vest, and Janvard's ears were smitten53 by the ominous54 click of a revolver. His eyes wandered back to the stern dark face of Lionel. There was no hope for him there. The pallor of his face deepened. His wonderful nerve for once was beginning to desert him. He was trembling visibly.
"Sit down, sir," said Lionel, sternly, "and refresh yourself with another glass of wine. I have something of much importance to say to you."
The Frenchman hesitated for a moment. Then he shrugged55 his shoulders and sat down. His sang-froid was coming back to him. He drank two glasses of wine rapidly one after another.
"I am ready, monsieur," he said, quietly, as he wiped his thin lips, and made a ghastly effort to smile. "At your service."
"What I want from you, and what you must give me," said Lionel, "is a full and particular account of how this ring came into your possession. It belonged to Percy Osmond, and it was on his finger the night he was murdered."
"Ah ciel! how do you know that?"
"It is enough that what I say is true, and that you cannot gainsay56 it. But this ring was not on the finger of the murdered man when he was found next morning. Tell me how it came into your possession."
For a moment or two Janvard did not speak. Then he said, sulkily: "Who are you that come here under false pretences57, and question me and threaten me in this way?"
"I am not here to answer your questions. You are here to answer mine."
"What if I refuse to answer them?"
"In that case the four walls of a prison will hold you in less than half an hour. In your possession I find a ring which was on the finger of Mr. Osmond the night he was murdered. Less than that has brought many a better man than you to the gallows58: be careful that it does not land you there?"
"If you know anything of the affair at all, you must know that the murderer of Mr. Osmond was tried and found guilty long ago."
"What proof have you--what proof was there adduced at the trial, that Lionel Dering was the murderer of Percy Osmond? Did your eyes, or those of any one else, see him do the bloody59 deed? Wretch60! You knew from the first that he was innocent! If you yourself are not the murderer, you know the man who is."
Again Janvard was silent for a little while. His eyes were bent61 on the floor. He was considering deeply within himself. At length he spoke, but it was in the same sullen62 tone that he had used before.
"What guarantee have I that when I have told you anything that I may know, the information will not be used against me to my own harm?"
"You have no guarantee whatever. I could not give you any such promise. For aught I know to the contrary, you, and you alone, may be the murderer of Percy Osmond."
Janvard shuddered64 slightly. "I am not the murderer of Percy Osmond," he said quietly.
"Who, then, was the murderer?"
"My late master--Mr. Kester St. George."
There was a pause which no one seemed inclined to break. Although Janvard's words were but a confirmation65 of the suspicions which Lionel and Tom had all along entertained, they seemed to fall on their ears with all the force of a startling revelation. Of the three men there, Janvard was the one who seemed least concerned.
Lionel was the first to speak. "This is a serious charge to make against a gentleman like Mr. St. George," he said.
"I have made no charge against Mr. St. George," said Janvard. "It is you who have forced the confession66 from me."
"You are doubtless prepared to substantiate67 your statement--to prove your words?"
"I do not want to prove anything. I want to hold my tongue, but you will not let me."
"All I want from you is the simple truth, and that you must tell me."
"But, monsieur----" began Janvard, appealingly, and then he stopped.
"You are afraid, and justly so. You are in my power, and I can use that power in any way that I may deem best. At the same time, understand me. I am no constable--no officer of the law--I am simply the brother of Lionel Dering, and knowing, as I do, that he was accused and found guilty of a crime of which he was as innocent as I am, I have vowed68 that I will not rest night or day till I have discovered the murderer and brought him to justice. Such being the case, I tell you plainly that the best thing you can do is to make a full and frank confession of all that you know respecting this terrible business, leaving it for me afterwards to decide as to the use which I may find it requisite to make of your confession. Are you prepared to do what I ask of you?"
Janvard's shoulders rose and fell again. "I cannot help myself," he said. "I have no choice but to comply with the wishes of monsieur."
"Sensibly spoken. Try another glass of wine. It may help to refresh your memory."
"Alas69! monsieur, my memory needs no refreshing70. The incidents of that night are far too terrible to be forgotten." With a hand that still shook slightly he poured himself out another glass of wine and drank it off at a draught71. Then he continued: "On the night of the quarrel in the billiard-room at Park Newton I was sitting up for my master, Mr. St. George. About midnight the bell rang for me, and on answering it, my master put Mr. Osmond into my hands, he being somewhat the worse for wine, with instructions to see him safely to bed. This I did, and then left him. As it happened, I had taken a violent fancy to Mr. Osmond's splendid ruby ring--the very ring monsieur has now in his possession--and that night I determined72 to make it my own. There were several new servants in the house, and nobody would suspect me of having taken it. Mr. Osmond had drawn73 it off his finger, and thrown it carelessly into his dressing-bag which he locked before getting into bed, afterwards putting his keys under his pillow.
"When the house was quiet, I put on a pair of list slippers74 and made my way to Mr. Osmond's bedroom. The door was unlocked and I went in. A night-lamp was burning on the dressing-table. The full moon shone in through the uncurtained window, and its rays slanted75 right across the sleeper's face. He lay there, sleeping the sleep of the drunken, with one hand clenched76, and a frown on his face as if he were still threatening Mr. Dering. It was hardly the work of a minute to possess myself of the keys. In another minute the dressing-case was opened and the ring my own. Mr. Osmond's portmanteau stood invitingly77 open: what more natural than that I should desire to turn over its contents lightly and delicately? In such cases I am possessed78 by the simple curiosity of a child. I was down on my knees before the portmanteau, admiring this, that, and the other, when, to my horror, I heard the noise of coming footsteps. No concealment79 was possible, save that afforded by the long curtains which shaded one of the windows. Next moment I was safely hidden behind them.
"The footsteps came nearer and nearer, and then some one entered the room. The sleeping man still breathed heavily. Now and then he moaned in his sleep. All my fear of being found out could not keep me from peeping out of my hiding-place. What I saw was my master, Mr. Kester St. George, standing over the sleeping man, with a look on his face that I had never seen there before. He stood thus for a full minute, and then he came round to the near side of the bed, and seemed to be looking for Mr. Osmond's keys. In a little while he saw them in the dressing-bag where I had left them. Then he crossed to the other side of the room and proceeded to try them one by one, till he had found the right one, in the lock of Mr. Osmond's writing-case. He opened the case, took out of it Mr. Osmond's cheque book, and from that he tore either one or two blank cheques. He had just relocked the writing-case when Mr. Osmond suddenly awoke and started up in bed. 'Villain80! what are you doing there?' he cried, as he flung back the bedclothes. But before he could set foot to the floor, Mr. St. George sprang at his throat, and pinned him down almost as easily as if he had been a boy. What happened during the next minute I hardly know how to describe. It would seem that Mr. Osmond was in the habit of sleeping with a dagger81 under his pillow. At all events, there was one there on this particular night. As soon as he found himself pinned down in bed, his hand sought for and found this dagger, and next moment he made a sudden stab with it at the breast of Mr. St. George. But my master was too quick for him. There was an instant's struggle--a flash--a cry--and--you may guess the rest.
"A murmur82 of horror escaped my lips. In another instant my master had sprung across the room and had torn away the curtains from before me. 'You here!' he said. And for a few seconds I thought my fate would be the same as that of Mr. Osmond. But at last his hand dropped. 'Janvard, you and I must be friends,' he said. 'From this night your interests are mine, and my interests are yours.' Then we left the room together. A terrible night, monsieur, as you may well believe."
"You have accounted clearly enough for the murder, but you have not yet told us how it happened that Lionel Dering came to be accused of the crime."
"That is the worst part of the story, sir. Whose thought it was first, whether Mr. St. George's or mine, to lay the murder at the door of Mr. Dering, I could not now tell you. It was a thought that seemed to come into the heads of both of us at the same moment. As monsieur knows, my master had no cause to love his cousin. He had every reason to hate him. Mr. Dering had got all the estates and property that ought to have been Mr. St. George's. But if Mr. Dering were to die without children, the estate would all come back to his cousin. Reason enough for wishing Mr. Dering dead.
"We did not talk much about it, my master and I. We understood one another without many words. There were certain things to be done which Mr. St. George had not the nerve to do. I had the nerve to do them, and I did them. It was I who put Mr. Dering's stud under the bed. It was I who took his handkerchief, and----"
"Enough!" said Lionel, with a shudder63. "Surely no more devilish plot was ever hatched by Satan himself! You--you who sit so calmly there, had but to hold up your finger to save an innocent man from disgrace and death!"
"What would monsieur have?" said Janvard, with another of his indescribable shrugs83. "Mr. St. George was my master. I liked him, and I was, besides, to have a large sum of money given me to keep silence. Mr. Dering was a stranger to me. Voilà tout84."
"Janvard, you are one of the vilest85 wretches86 that ever disgraced the name of man!"
"Monsieur s'amuse."
"I shall at once proceed to put down in writing the heads of the confession which you have just made. You will sign the writing in question in the presence of Mr. Bristow as witness. You need be under no apprehension87 that any immediate27 harm will happen to you. As for Mr. St. George, I shall deal with him in my own time, and in my own way. There are, however, two points that I wish you to bear particularly in mind. Firstly, if, even by the vaguest hint, you dare to let Mr. St. George know that you have told me what you have told me to-night, it will be at your own proper peril88, and you must be prepared to take the consequences that will immediately ensue. Secondly89, you must hold yourself entirely90 at my service, and must come to me without delay whenever I may send for you, and wherever I may be. Do you clearly understand?"
"Yes, sir. I understand."
"For the present, then, I have done with you. Two hours later I will send for you again, in order that you may sign a certain paper which will be ready by that time. You may go."
"But, monsieur----"
"Not a word. Go."
Tom held open the door for him, and Janvard passed out without another word.
"At last, Dering! At last everything is made clear!" said Tom, as he crossed the room and laid his hand affectionately on Lionel's shoulder. "At last you can proclaim your innocence91 to the world."
"Yes, my task is nearly done," said Lionel, sadly. "And I thank heaven in all sincerity92 that it is so. But the duty that I have still to perform is a terrible one. I almost feel as if now, at this, the eleventh hour, I could go no farther. I shrink in horror from the last and most terrible step of all. Hark! whose voice was that?"
"I hear nothing save the moaning of the wind, and the low muttering of thunder far away among the hills."
"It seemed to me that I heard the voice of Percy Osmond calling to me from the grave--the same voice that I have heard so often in my dreams."
"How your hand burns, Dering! Shake off these wild fancies, I implore93 you," said Tom. "What a blinding flash was that!"
"They are no wild fancies to me, but most dread94 realities. I tell you it is Osmond's voice that I hear. I know it but too well, 'Thou shalt avenge95!' it says to me. Only three words: 'Thou shalt avenge!'"
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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sitting-room
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retired
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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contrive
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| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
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requisite
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passbook
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covert
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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recollect
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vice
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deferentially
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formerly
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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18
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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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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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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21
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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22
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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24
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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25
hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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27
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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28
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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29
billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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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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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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disarm
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| v.解除武装，回复平常的编制，缓和 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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abstained
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| v.戒（尤指酒），戒除( abstain的过去式和过去分词 )；弃权（不投票） | |
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36
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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37
fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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38
lodgers
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| n.房客，租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
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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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tipple
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| n.常喝的酒；v.不断喝，饮烈酒 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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43
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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44
fumble
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| vi.笨拙地用手摸、弄、接等，摸索 | |
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45
reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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46
gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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inebriety
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| n.醉，陶醉 | |
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52
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gainsay
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| v.否认，反驳 | |
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pretences
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| n.假装( pretence的名词复数 )；作假；自命；自称 | |
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gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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61
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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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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65
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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66
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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substantiate
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| v.证实；证明...有根据 | |
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68
vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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69
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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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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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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72
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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73
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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74
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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75
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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76
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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invitingly
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| adv. 动人地 | |
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78
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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79
concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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80
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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81
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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82
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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83
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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84
tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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85
vilest
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| adj.卑鄙的( vile的最高级 )；可耻的；极坏的；非常讨厌的 | |
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86
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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87
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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89
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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90
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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91
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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92
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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93
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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94
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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95
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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