It may be that my offer to relieve Uncle Sam from the burden of my support caught the authorities napping. At any rate, the application sailed serenely14 over the reef on which I fully15 expected to see it hopelessly shipwrecked, and a week later I was speeding toward that village in central France known to the A. E. F. as the “canning factory.”
Relieved for the first time in twenty-three months of the necessity of awaiting authority for my goings and comings, I returned a fortnight later to Coblenz. It would not have been difficult to sneak17 directly over our line into unoccupied territory. I knew more than one forest-hidden loophole in it. But that would scarcely have been fair to my erstwhile colonel—and with all his faults the colonel had been rather decent. Besides, while that would have been the more romantic thing, it might not have led to as long and unhampered a stay in Germany as a more orderly and gentlemanly entrance.
Of the two neutralizing19 points, that to the north was reputed the more promising20. The express to Cologne sped across white fields that belied21 the calendar and gave the heavily blossomed cherry- and apple-trees the appearance of being laden22 with clinging snow. The more brassy British khaki took the place of our own, the compartment23 groups changed gradually from American to English officers. The latter were very young, for the most part, and one scarcely needed to listen to their almost childish prattle24 of their work and things warlike to know that they were not veterans. Long freight-trains crowded with still younger Britishers, exuding25 the extreme callowness of the untraveled insular26 youth, rattled27 into town with us from a more northern direction, happy to take the place of the grim and grizzled warriors28 that were being demobilized. In the outskirts30 of the city Germans of both sexes and all 86ages were placidly31 yet diligently33 toiling34 in their little garden patches into the twilight35 of the long spring day.
The British, rating me a correspondent, billeted me in a once proud hotel in the shadow of the great cathedral. In the scurry36 of pursuing passport and visées in Paris I had found no time to change my garb to the kind that flaps about the ankles. In consequence my evening stroll was several times broken by as many of England’s boyish new guardsmen, their bayonets overtopping them by several inches in some cases, who pounded their rifle-butts on the pavement in salute38 and stage-whispered a bit tremulously:
“Officers is not to walk about too much by theirselves, sir.”
My query39 at the first warning had been answered with a:
“Three of them was badly cut up last night, sir.”
There were no outward signs of any such serious enmity, however; on the contrary, the populace seemed almost friendly, and at the officers’ club guests were checking their side-arms with the German doorman.
The tall and hearty40 Irish guardsman in charge of British Rhine traffic readily granted my request to go down the river in one of the daily steamers carrying troops back to “Blighty” for demobilization. That day’s boat floundered under the simple little name of Ernst Ludwig Gross Herzog von Hessen und bei Rhein! I believe the new owners called it Louie. A score of German girls came down to the wharf41 to wave the departing “Tommies” farewell. All day we passed long strings42 of barges43 flying the triangular45 flag of the Food Commission, bearing supplies for the Army of Occupation and the civilian population of the occupied region. The time was but a few weeks off when the arteries46 of the Third Army flowing through France would be entirely47 cut off. The food on board the Louie was not unlike our own army ration48; the bunks49 supplied the officers were of 87a sort that would have moved our own more exacting50 wearers of the “Sam Browne” to start a Congressional investigation51. The most noticeable differences between this Blighty-bound multitude and our own doughboys were three in number—their lack of inventiveness in amusing themselves, their lower attitude toward women, and the utter lack of care of the teeth, conspicuous5 even among the officers. We should have been hard put to it, however, to find a higher type than the youthful captains and lieutenants53 in charge of the steamer.
At five we halted for the night beside several huge barges anchored well out in the stream, their holds filled with very passable bunks—as soldiering goes. While the Tommies, pack-laden, clambered down the half-dozen narrow hatches to their light quarters, I dropped in on the families that dwelt in the stern of each. Those who have never paid a similar call might be surprised to find what homelike comfort reigns54 in these floating residences. Outwardly the barges are of the plainest and roughest, coal-carriers for the most part, with all the smudge and discomfort55 of such occupation. As the lower house door at the rear opens, his eyes are prepared to behold56 something about as inviting57 as the forecastle of a windjammer. Instead they are all but dazzled by the immaculate, housewifely cleanliness, the orderly comfort of the interior. The Rhine-plying dwelling58 is a close replica59 of a “lower middle-class” residence ashore60—a half-dozen rooms, carpeted, lace-curtained, the walls decorated with family portraits, elaborate-framed mottoes and over-colored statuettes of the Catholic faith, a great square bed of inviting furnishings in the parental61 room, smaller though no less attractive ones in the other sleeping-chambers, easy-chairs, the latest thing in kitchen ranges, large lamps that are veritable chandeliers suspended from the ceiling—nothing was missing, down to the family cat and canary.
88It was noticeable that though the barges had been commandeered by their army and they never lost sight of the fact that their owners were “the enemy,” the English officers were meticulously62 courteous63 in requesting permission to enter the family cabins. Your Britisher never forgets that a man’s home is his castle. One could not but wonder just what the attitude of a German officer would have been under reversed conditions, for the same motto is far less deeply ingrained in the Teuton character. The barge44 nearest the steamer was occupied by a family with five children, the oldest aged fourteen, all born on board, at as many points of the vessel64’s constant going and coming between Rotterdam and Mannheim. Two of them were at school in the town in which the family was registered as residents, where the parental marriage was on record, where the father reported when the order of mobilization called him to arms. The oldest had already been entered as “crew,” and was preparing to follow in his father’s footsteps—if the expression be allowed under the circumstances.
When they had arranged themselves for the night, the “Tommies” returned on board the steamer for a two-hour entertainment of such caliber65 as could be aroused from their own midst. There were several professional barn-storming vaudeville66 performers among them, rather out of practice from their long trench67 vigils, but willing enough to offer such talents as they still possessed68. Nor were the amateurs selfish in preserving their incognito69. It was simple fare, typified by such uproarious jokes as:
“’Ungry, are you? Well, ’ene, ’ere’s a piece of chalk. Go draw yourself a plate of ’am an’ eggs.”
But it all served to pass the endless last hours that separated the war-weary veterans from the final ardently70 awaited return to “the old woman an’ the kids.”
The tramp of hundreds of hobnailed shoes on the deck over our heads awoke us at dawn, and by the time we had 89reached the open air Germany had been left behind. It needed only the glimpse of a cart, drawn71 by a dog, occupied by a man, and with a horse hitched72 behind—a genuine case of the cart before the horse—trotting along an elevated highway, sharp-cut against the floor-flat horizon, to tell us we were in Holland. Besides, there were stodgy73 windmills slowly laboring74 on every hand, to say nothing of the rather unprepossessing young Dutch lieutenant52, in his sickly gray-green uniform, who had boarded us at the frontier, to confirm the change of nationality of Father Rhine. The lieutenant’s duties consisted of graciously accepting an occasional sip75 of the genuine old Scotch76 that graced the sideboard of the youthful commanding officer, and of seeing to it that the rifles of the Tommies remained under lock and key until they reached their sea-going vessel at the mouth of the river—a task that somehow suggested a Lilliputian sent to escort a regiment77 of giants through his diminutive78 kingdom.
In the little cluster of officers on the upper deck the conversation rarely touched on war deeds, even casually79, though one knew that many a thrilling tale was hidden away in their memories. The talk was all of rehabilitation80, rebuilding of the civilian lives that the Great Adventure had in so many cases all but wholly wrecked16. Among the men below there was more apathy81, more silent dreaming, interspersed82 now and then by those crude witticisms83 with which their class breaks such mental tension:
“These ’ere blinkin’ Dutch girls always makes me think as ’ow their faces ’ave been mashed84 by a steam-roller an’ their bloomin’ legs blowed up with a bicycle pump, so ’elp me!”
The remark might easily be rated an exaggeration, but the solid Jongvrouws who clattered85 their wooden-shod way along the banks could not in all fairness have been called delicate.
90I was conscious of a flicker86 of surprise when the Dutch authorities welcomed me ashore without so much as opening my baggage—particularly as I was still in uniform. The hotel I chose turned out to be German in ownership and personnel. Steeped in the yarns87 of the past five years, I looked forward to at least the excitement of having spies go through my baggage the moment I left it unguarded. Possibly they did; if so, they were superhumanly clever in repacking the stuff as they found it.
If I had been so foolish as to suppose that I could hurry on at once into Germany I should have been sadly disappointed. The first of the several duties before me was to apply to the police for a Dutch identity card. Without it no one could exist at liberty in nor leave the flat little kingdom. As usually happens in such cases, when one is in a hurry, the next day was Sunday. The chief excitement in Rotterdam on the day of rest was no longer the Zoo, but the American camp, a barbed-wire inclosure out along the wharves89 about which the Dutchman and his wife and progeny90 packed a dozen rows deep to gaze at doughboys tossing baseballs or swinging boxing-gloves, with about as much evidence of the amusement as they might show before a Rembrandt or a Van Dyck painting. Naturally so hilarious91 a Sabbath passes swiftly for a man eager to be elsewhere!
There were, of course, the window displays of the closed shops, of unfailing interest to any one long familiar only with warring lands. No wonder these placid32 Dutchmen looked so full-cheeked and contented92. Though a tradesman may have found some things missing, to the casual eye there were apparently93 none of the material good things of life that could not be had in superabundance. Butter, eggs, cakes, bonbons94, fat bacon, meat of every species, sweets of all kinds, soap as good and as cheap as before the war, cigarettes, cigars, and tobacco enough to have 91set all France to rioting, all those little dainties which the gormands of the belligerent95 countries had ceased even to sigh for, were here tantalizingly96 spread out for block after block, street after street. Restaurants ostentated menu-cards offering anything a hungry man could pay for; milk was to be had every few yards at ten Dutch cents a glass. One had something of the sensation that would come from seeing diamonds and gold nuggets strewn along the way just around the corner from the abode97 of a band of unsuccessful yeggmen. With the caution bred of nineteen months in France I had filled the interstices of my baggage with chocolate and cigars. It was like carrying gloves to Grenoble. Nothing was more abundantly displayed in the windows of Rotterdam than those two articles.
A closer inspection98, however, showed that Holland had not entirely escaped the secondary effects of the war. The milk that still sold so cheaply showed a distinct evidence now of too close an alliance between the herd99 and the pump. If the restaurants were fully supplied from hors-d’?uvre to coffee, the aftermath was a very serious shock to the financial system. There seemed, moreover, to be no place where the average rank and file of laboring humanity could get its wholesome100 fill for a reasonable portion of its income. The bonbons were a trifle pasty; the cigars not only as expensive as across the Atlantic—which means manyfold more than the old Dutch prices—they were far more inviting behind a plate-glass than when burning in front of the face. The clothing that was offered in such abundance usually confessed frankly101 to membership in the shoddy class. Suspenders and garters had all but lost their elasticity102; shoes—except the more popular Dutch variety—had soared to the lofty realms to which all articles of leather have ascended103 the world over. Bicycles, the Dutchman’s chief means of locomotion104, however, seemed as easily within 92reach as if the far-spread “rubber crisis” had never discovered this corner of Europe.
Yet on the whole these happy, red-cheeked, overfed Dutchmen did not seem to have a care in the world. Their attitude toward the American uniform appeared to be cold, at best not above indifference105, though the new doughboy weekly credited them with genuine friendliness106. One got the impression that they were pro-Ally or pro-Boche interchangeably, as it served their own interests—which after all is quite in keeping with human nature the world round. The most serious task of the American detachment was to prevent the supplies destined107 for hungry Europe beyond from dwindling108 under the hands of the Dutch stevedores109 who transhipped them. It would, perhaps, be unfair to call the stodgy little nation a war profiteer, yet there were suggestions on all sides that it had not always scorned to take advantage of the distress110 of its neighbors. I may be prejudiced, but I did not find the Hollanders what the Spaniards calls simpático, not even so much as I had fifteen years before. If I may so express it, the kingdom left the same impression one feels upon meeting an old classmate who has amassed111 wealth in some of the quicker, less laborious112 methods our own land affords. One rejoices, in a way, at his prosperity, yet one feels more in tune114 with the less “successful” old-time friend who has been mellowed115 by his fair share of adversities.
Monday, though it was the last day of April, shivered under a ragged116 blanket of wet snow. The line-up at the police station was international and it was long. Furthermore, the lieutenants behind the extemporized117 wickets were genuinely Dutch; they neither gossiped nor loafed, yet they did not propose to let the haste of a disorderly outside world disturb their racial serenity118 or jar their superb penmanship. They preserved the same sense of order amid the chaos119 that surrounded their tight little 93land as the magnificent policemen directing traffic in the main streets outside, who halted the stranger inadvertently following the wrong sidewalk with a courteous but exceedingly firm “You are taking a valk on the rhight side of the street, pleasse.” In the course of two hours I reached a wicket—only to find that I needed two photographs. By the time I had been mugged and reached the head of the international line again another day had drifted into the irredeemable past.
It was not easy to get the Hollander to talk of the war and its kindred topics, even when one found him able to speak some better-known tongue than his own. He seemed to hold the subject in some such abhorrence120 as cultured persons do the latest scandal, or, more exactly, perhaps, to look upon it as a highly successful soap manufacturer does the plebeian121 commodity on which his social superstructure is erected123. Americans who had been in the country long enough to penetrate124 a bit below the surface were inclined to think that, if he had any other feeling than pro-Dutch, he leaned a little to the eastward125. Especially, however, was he interested in seeing to it that both sides were given an equal opportunity of eating undisturbed at his table—and paying well for the privilege. In a mild way a clean and orderly hotelkeeper housing two rival football teams would have displayed the same attitude.
But gibes126 at either side were not wholly tabooed. At an alleged127 “musical comedy” in a local theater the scene that produced the most audible mirth depicted128 the erstwhile Kaiser and Crown Prince—excellently mimed129 down to the crippled arm of the one and the goat-face of the other—enjoying the bucolic130 hospitality of their land of refuge. The father, dressed in one of the most gorgeous of his innumerable uniforms, stood at a convenient block, splitting kindling131 with a one-handed hatchet132; the son, in wooden 94shoes and a Zuyder Zee cap, sat on a pierhead serenely fishing. Above their heads stood a road-sign pointing in opposite directions to:
“PARIS—45,000 kilometers; CALAIS—75,000 kilometers.”
Their extended quarrel on who started the war, and why, brought no evidence of pro-German sympathy from the audience. It was easy to imagine the horrified133 protest from the German Legation which such a skit134 would have brought down upon the producer’s head a year before. A scene that caused little less mirth showed a Dutch frontier guard so hoary135 with service that their clothing had sprouted136 toadstools and their feet barnacles.
The more widely I inquired the more unlikely seemed the possibility of getting into Germany. This was in keeping with my experiences in other lands, had I stopped to think of it, where it had always proved simpler to dash forward on a difficult trip first and make inquiries137 afterward138. Our consulate139 in Rotterdam had no suggestions to offer and advised me to see our Legation at The Hague. An excellent train, showing no evidence that the world had ever been at war, set me down at the Dutch capital an hour later.
“You want to get into Germany?” queried140 the Legation, with elevated eyebrows141. “Well, all we can say is God bless you!”
A deeper probing, however, showed that this was only the official voice speaking.
“Personally,” continued the particular secretary to whom I had appealed, with a decided142 accent on the word, “I would suggest that you see the German Legation. Officially, of course, we do not know that any such place exists, but—I have heard—quite unofficially—that there is a Herr Maltzen there who.... But of course you could not call on him in American khaki....”
I came near making the faux pas of asking where the German 95Legation was situated143. Of course the secretary could not have known officially. The first passer-by outside, however, readily pointed88 it out to me—just around the corner. By the time I had returned to Rotterdam and outfitted144 myself in civilian garb carefully adjusted to pass muster145 at so exacting a function as a German official visit and at the same time not to suggest wealth to fellow-roadsters should I succeed in entering the Empire, another day had been added to my debit146 column.
On the train to The Hague next morning I tested the disguise which exceedingly European clothing, a recently acquired mustache, and the remnants of a tongue I had once spoken rather fluently afforded by playing German before my fellow-passengers. To all outward appearances the attempt was successful, but try as I would I saw a German spy in every rosy-cheeked, prosperous Dutchman who turned his bovine148 eyes fixedly149 upon me. Herr Maltzen’s office hours were not until five in the afternoon. When at last I was ushered150 into his august presence I summoned my best German accent and laid as much stress as was becoming on some distant relatives who—the past five years willing—still dwelt within the Empire.
“The primary question, of course,” pronounced Herr Maltzen, in the precise, resonant151 language of his calling, “is, are you German or are you an American?”
“American, certainly,” I replied.
“Ah, then it will be difficult, extremely difficult,” boomed the immaculate Teuton, solemnly. “Up to nine days ago I was permitted to pass personally on the credentials152 of foreign correspondents. But now they must be referred to Berlin. If you care to make official application....”
“I hereby do so.”
“Unfortunately, it is not so simple as that. The application must be in writing, giving references to several persons of the responsible class in Germany, with a statement 96of your activities during the war, copies of your credentials....”
“And how soon could I expect the answer?”
“With the very best of luck in two weeks, more probably three or four.”
I returned to Rotterdam in a somewhat dazed condition, having left Herr Maltzen with the impression that I had gone to think the problem over. Nor was that a false impression. It was more of a problem than even the suave153 diplomat154 suspected. It happened that I had a bare six weeks left for a tramp “over in Germany.” If I frittered away three-fourths of them among the placid and contented Dutchmen, there would not be much left except the regret of having given up the privilege of returning home—eventually—under army pay and transportation. Moreover, rumblings from Paris indicated that by that time a trip through Germany would be of slight interest. I retired155 that night more nearly convinced than ever that I was more properly fitted to become a protectorate under the mandate156 of some benevolent157 league of managers for irresponsible persons than to attempt to continue as an autonomous158 member of society.
Some time in the small hours I was rapped on the forehead with a brilliant idea. So extraordinary an experience brought me to a sitting posture159 and full wakefulness. The Food Commission had a steamer leaving next day for Danzig. What could be more to my purpose than to drop off there and tramp back to Holland? Among my possessions was an elaborately non-committal letter—I had been given the privilege of dictating160 it myself—from the “Hoover crowd” in Paris, down toward the end of which it was specifically stated that, while I was not connected with the Food Commission, they would be glad if any courtesies could be shown me. Carefully read, it would have made a rather satisfactory prelude161 to the request of a starving 97and stranded162 American to be permitted to buy a half-pound of bacon. Carelessly perused163, however, it might easily have been mistaken for a document of some importance, particularly as it was decorated with the imposing164 letterhead of the “Supreme Economic Council.” But I had scarcely expected it to be of use until I had succeeded in jimmying my way into unoccupied Germany.
The Rotterdam section of the Food Commission was quite willing that I go to Danzig—or any other place far enough away to make it impossible for me to further disturb their complicated labors165. But their duties ceased when they had seen the relief-ships loaded. The ships themselves were under command of the navy. The buck166 having thus successfully been passed, I waded167 through a soggy snow-storm to the imposing Dutch building that housed our officers in blue. An exceedingly courteous naval168 commander gave the false impression that he was extremely sorry not to be able to grant my request, but the already overcrowded boat, the strict orders against carrying civilians169.... In short, I should have realized that red tape is not confined to the khaki-clad half of our fighting forces. I shuffled170 my way back into the heart of the city in my most downcast mood, tempered far beneath by a sneaking171 little satisfaction that at least if I could not get into Germany I should run no risk of being boiled in oil by the dreadful Sparticists or tickled172 to death with garden rakes by a grinning band of almond-eyed Bolsheviki.
This would never do. The sun had already begun its last April descent, and I had surrendered nearly three weeks before the privilege of being able to sit idle and still draw a salary. I resolved that May should not catch me supinely squatting173 in Rotterdam. The chief bridge was soon burned. At the police station my identity card was stamped “out” so quickly as to have given a sensitive person the impression that the country was only too glad to be rid of him. At 98least I must leave Holland, and if I left in an easterly direction there was only one place that I could bring up. But what of Herr Maltzen? My dime-novel conception of international espionage174 pictured him as having set a half-dozen of his most trusted agents to dogging my footsteps. I would outwit them! I hastened back to the hotel and wrote the Teuton envoy176 an elaborate application for permission to enter Germany, with references, copies of credentials, and touching177 as gently as possible on my unseemly activities during the war. Unfortunately, I could recall the name and address of only one of those distant German relatives of whom I had boasted; the others I was forced to fake, arousing new misgivings178 in my penny-dreadful conscience. In conclusion I added the subtle misleader that while awaiting his reply I should make the most of my time by journeying about Holland and possibly elsewhere. Then I tossed into a straw suitcase a few indispensable articles, the confiscation179 of which I felt I could survive, and dashed for the evening train to the eastern frontier.
To carry out still further my movie-bred disguise I took third-class and mingled180 with the inconspicuous multitude. There was no use attempting to conceal181 myself in the coal-bin or to bribe182 the guard to lend me his uniform, for the train did not go beyond the border. On the platform I met an American lieutenant in full uniform, bound for Hamburg as a courier; but I cut our interview as short as courtesy permitted, out of respect for Herr Maltzen’s lynx-eyed agents. The lieutenant’s suggestion that I ride boldly with him in first-class comfort gave me a very poor impression of his subtlety183. Evidently he was not well read in detective and spy literature. However, there was comfort in the feeling of having a fellow-countryman, particularly one of official standing184, within easy reach.
Holland lay dormant185 and featureless under a soggy snow coverlet. Many of her hundreds of fat cattle wore canvas 99jackets. Every town and village was gay with flags in honor of the tenth birthday of the Dutch princess, a date of great importance within the little kingdom, though quite unnoticed by the world at large. The prosperous, well-dressed workmen in my compartment, having been inconspicuously let into the secret that I was a German, jokingly-seriously inquired whether I was a Sparticist or a Bolshevik. It was evident that they were too well fed to have any sympathy for either. Then they took to complaining that my putative186 fatherland did not send them enough coal, asserting that thousands had died in Holland for lack of heat during the past few winters. Beyond Utrecht the long stretch of sterile187 sand-dunes aroused a well-schooled carpenter whose German was fluent to explain why Holland could not agree to any exchange of territory with Belgium. To give up the strip of land opposite Flushing would mean making useless the strong Dutch fortifications there. The piece farther east offered in exchange looked all very well on the map, but it was just such useless heather as this we were gazing out upon. Holland could not accept a slice of Germany—Emden, for instance—instead, because that would be certain sooner or later to lead to war. Of course, he added, teasingly, Holland could beat Germany with wooden shoes now, but ten years hence it would not be so easy. Besides, the Dutch did not care for a part of Belgium, though the Flemish population was eager to join them. They were quite content to remain a small country. Big countries, like rich individuals, had too many troubles, aroused too much envy. He might have added that the citizens of a small country have more opportunity of keeping in close touch with all national questions, but his own speech was a sufficient demonstration188 of that fact. He knew, for example, just what portions of the Zuyder Zee were to be reclaimed189, and marked them on my map. All the southern end was to 100be pumped out, then two other strips farther north. But the sections north and south of Stavoren were to be left as they were. The soil was not worth the cost of uncovering it and the river Yssel must be left an outlet190 to the ocean, a viaduct sufficing to carry the railway to the peninsula opposite.
It may have been the waving flags that turned the conversation to the royal family. A gardener who had long worked for them scornfully branded as canards191 the rumors192 in the outside world that the German consort193 was not popular. The prince was quite democratic—royalty radiates democracy nowadays the world over, apparently—and was so genuinely Dutch that he would not speak German with any one who knew any other tongue. He spoke147 most of the European ones himself, and in addition Tamil and Hindustani. He took no part whatever in the government—unless he advised the Queen unofficially in the privacy of their own chamber—but was interested chiefly in the Boy Scout194 movement, in connection with which he hoped to visit the United States after the war. They were a very loving couple, quite as much so as if they were perfectly195 ordinary people.
By this time the short northern night had fallen. With two changes of cars I rattled on into it and brought up at Oldenzaal on the frontier at a late hour. The American lieutenant put up at the same hotel with me and we discussed the pros113 and cons6 of my hopes of getting into Germany. They were chiefly cons. The lieutenant was quite willing for me to make use of his presence consistent with army ethics196, and I retired with a slightly rosier197 view of the situation.
In the morning this tint198 had wholly disappeared. I could not stir up a spark of optimism anywhere in my system. Army life has a way of sapping the springs of personal initiative. To say that I was 99 per cent. convinced 101that I would be back in Oldenzaal before the day was over would be an under-statement. I would have traded my chances of passing the frontier for a Dutch cigar. I bought a ticket on the shuttle train to the first German station in much the same spirit that a poker-player throws his last dollar into a game that has been going against him since the night before.
As a refinement199 of cruelty the Dutch authorities submitted us to a second customs examination, even more searching than that at our arrival. They relentlessly200 ferreted out the foodstuffs201 hidden away in the most unlikely corners of the smallest luggage, and dropped them under the low counter at their feet. An emaciated202 woman bearing an Austrian passport was thus relieved of seventeen parcels, down to those containing a half-pound of butter or a slice of cheese. In her case not even her midday train lunch escaped. No one could complain that the blockade requirement against Holland reshipping to Germany was being violated at Oldenzaal. As we passed out the door to the platform a soldier ran his hands up and down our persons in search of suspicious lumps and bulges203. My Dutch identity card had been taken away from me; I no longer had the legal right to exist anywhere. Once on the train, however, the food blockade proved to have been less watertight than it had seemed. As usual, the “wise ones” had found means of evading204 it. Several experienced travelers had provided themselves with official authorization205 to bring in ten or twelve pounds of Lebensmittel. A few others aroused the envy of their fellow-passengers—once the boundary was passed—by producing succulent odds206 and ends from secret linings207 of their baggage. One loud-voiced individual asserted that there was much smuggling208 through the forests beside us. It is not likely, however, that the food that escapes the Oldenzaal search brought much relief to the hunger of Germany.
102The thin-faced Austrian woman sat hunched209 in a far corner of the compartment, noiselessly crying. Two middle-aged210 Germans of the professor-municipal-employee caste whispered cautiously together on the opposite cushion. As we passed the swampy211 little stream that marks the boundary they each solemnly gave it a military salute, and from that moment on raised their voices to a quite audible pitch. One displayed a sausage he had wrapped in a pair of trousers. The other produced from a vest pocket a tiny package of paper-soap leaves, each the size of a visiting-card. He pressed three or four of them upon his companion. The latter protested that he could not accept so serious a sacrifice. The other insisted, and the grateful recipient212 bowed low and raised his hat twice in thanks before he stowed the precious leaves away among his private papers. They passed a few remarks about the unfairness of the food blockade, particularly since the signing of the armistice213. One spoke scornfully of the attempt of the Allies to draw a line between the German government and the people—there was no such division, he asserted. But by this time we were grinding to a halt in Bentheim, in all probability the end of my German journey.
The passengers and their hand-luggage jammed toward a door flanked by several German non-coms. and a handsome young lieutenant. I pressed closely on the heels of the American courier. He was received with extreme courtesy by the German lieutenant, who personally saw to it that he was unmolested by boundary or customs officials, and conducted him to the outgoing waiting-room toward which we were all striving. Meanwhile a sergeant215 had studied my passport, quite innocent of the German visé, dropped it into the receptacle of doubtful papers, and motioned to me to stand back and let the others pass, exactly as I had expected him to do. How ridiculous of me to fancy I could bluff216 my way through a cordon217 of German 103officials, as if they had been French or Italian! Would they shut me up or merely toss me back on the Dutch? The last of my legitimate218 fellow-passengers passed on into the forbidden land and left me standing quite alone in the little circle of German non-coms. One of them rescued my passport and handed it to the handsome young lieutenant as he returned. He looked at me questioningly. I addressed him in German and slipped the weak-kneed Food Commission letter into his hands. Perhaps—but, alas219! my last hope gave a last despairing gasp220 and died; the lieutenant read English as easily as you or I!
“You see,” I began, lamely221, “as a correspondent, and more or less connected with the Food Commission, I wished to have a glimpse of the distribution from Hamburg—and I can catch one of their ships back from there to Rotterdam. Then as the lieutenant I am with speaks no German, I offered to act as interpreter for him on the way. I ... I....”
I was waiting, of course, to hear the attentive222 listener bellow223 the German version of, “You poor fish! do you think you can pull that kind of bull on me!” Instead, he bowed slightly in acknowledgment of my explanation and looked more closely at my passport.
“You should have had this stamped at the German Legation in The Hague,” he remarked, softly.
“I did not know until shortly before the train left that the lieutenant was coming,” I added, hastily, “so there was no time for that. I thought that, with the letter from the Food Commission also....”
Either I am really very simple—in my particular asinine224 moments I feel the certainty of that fact—or I have been vouchsafed225 the gift of putting on a very simple face. The German gazed an instant into my innocent eyes, then glanced again at the letter.
“Yes, of course,” he replied, turning toward an experience-faced 104old Feldwebel across the room. “Will you be kind enough to wait a moment?”
This gentle-voiced young officer, whom I had rather expected to kick me a few times in the ribs226 and perhaps knock me down once or twice with the butt37 of his side-arm, returned within the period specified227 and handed my papers back to me.
“I have not the authority myself to pass on your case,” he explained. “I am only a Leutnant, and I shall have to refer it to the Oberleutnant at the Schloss in town. I do not think, however, that he will make the slightest difficulty.”
I thought differently. The Ober would almost certainly be some “hard-boiled” old warrior29 who would subject me to all those brutalities his underling had for some reason seen fit to avoid. Still there was nothing to do but play the game through.
“I shall send a man with you to show the way,” continued the lieutenant. “You have plenty of time; the train does not leave for two hours. Meanwhile you may as well finish the other formalities and be ready to go on when you return.”
A customs officer rummaged228 through my hamper18.
“No more soap?” he queried, greedily, as he caught sight of the two bars I possessed. Evidently he had hoped to find enough to warrant confiscation. His next dig unearthed229 three cakes of commissary chocolate. He carefully lifted them out and carried them across the room. My escapade was already beginning to cost me dearly, for real chocolate is the European traveler’s most valuable possession in war-time. He laid the precious stuff on a pair of scales, filled out a long green form, and handed it to me as he carefully tucked the chocolate back in my hamper.
“Forty-five pfennigs duty,” he said.
At the current exchange that was nearly four cents!
A second official halted me to inquire how much German 105money I had in my possession. I confessed to twenty-five hundred marks, and exhibited the thick wad of brand-new fifty-mark Scheine I carried like so much stationery230 in a coat pocket. There was no use attempting to conceal it, for just beyond were the little cabins where passengers were submitted to personal search. Luckily I had left some money behind in Rotterdam, in case they confiscated231 all of this. But the official was making out a new form.
“This,” he said, handing it to me, “is a certificate for the amount you are bringing in with you. When you leave Germany take this to any branch of the Reichsbank and get another permitting you to take out with you again whatever is left. Otherwise you can take only fifty marks.”
In the cabin next the one I entered a man was buttoning his trousers. Stories of skins being treated to a lemon massage232 to detect secret writing surged up in my memory. I had no concealed233 valuables, but I have never learned to submit cheerfully to the indignity234 of personal search. I turned a grim visage toward the not immaculate soldier who had entered with me.
“Hollander?” he asked, as I prepared to strip.
“American,” I admitted, for once regretfully. He would no doubt make the most of that fact.
“Indeed!” he said, his eyes lighting235 up with interest. “Have you any valuables on your person?” he continued, stopping me by a motion from removing my coat.
“None but the money I have declared,” I replied.
“Thank you,” he said, opening the door. “That is all. Good day.”
A thin soldier with a greenish-gray face and hollow eyes, dressed in field gray that had seen long service, was assigned to conduct me to the Schloss. Twice on the way he protested that I was walking too fast for him. A long alleyway of splendid trees led to the town, the population of which was very noticeably thinner and less buoyant of 106step than the Hollanders a few miles behind. At the foot of an aged castle on a hillock the soldier opened the door of a former lodge236 and stepped in after me. The military office strikingly resembled one of our own—little except the feldgrau instead of khaki was different. A half-dozen soldiers and three or four non-coms. were lounging at several tables sprinkled with papers, ink-bottles, and official stamps. Two typewriters sat silent, a sheet of unfinished business drooping237 over their rolls. Three privates were “horse-playing” in one corner; two others were loudly engaged in a friendly argument; the rest were reading newspapers or humorous weeklies; and all were smoking. The Feldwebel in charge laid his cigarette on his desk and stepped toward me. My guide sat down like a man who had finished a long day’s journey and left me to state my own case. I retold my story. At the word “American” the soldiers slowly looked up, then gradually gathered around me. Their faces were entirely friendly, with a touch of curiosity. They asked a few simple questions, chiefly on the subject of food and tobacco conditions in Allied238 territory. One wished to know how soon I thought it would be possible to emigrate to America. The Feldwebel looked at my papers, sat down at his desk with them, and reached for an official stamp. Then he seemed to change his mind, rose, and entered an inner office. A middle-aged, rather hard-faced first lieutenant came out with him. The soldiers did not even rise to their feet. The Ober glanced at me, then at my papers in the hands of the Feldwebel.
“I see no objection,” he said, then turned on his heel and disappeared.
When the Feldwebel had indorsed my passport I suggested that he stamp the Food Commission also. A German military imprint239 would give it the final touch within the Empire, at least for any officials who did not read English well. The under-officer carried out the suggestion 107without comment, and handed the papers back to me. I had permission to go when I chose.
Before I had done so, thanks to the continued curiosity of the soldiers, the Oberleutnant sent word that he wished to see me. I kicked myself inwardly for not having gone while the going was good, and entered his private office. He motioned me to a chair, sat down himself, and fell to asking me questions. They were fully as disconnected and trivial as many an interrogation of prisoners I had heard from the lips of American officers. My respect for the stern discipline and trained staff of the German army was rapidly oozing240 away. Like his soldiers, the C. O. of Bentheim seemed chiefly interested in the plenitude and price of food and tobacco in France and Belgium. Then he inquired what people were saying in Paris of the peace conditions and how soon they expected them to be ready.
“Sie kriegen keinen Frieden—they’ll get no peace!” he cried suddenly, with considerable heat, when I had mumbled241 some sort of answer. Then he abruptly242 changed the subject, without indicating just what form the lack of peace would take, and returned again to food.
“What will Wilson do about his Fourteen Points?” he interrupted, somewhat later.
“All he can,” I answered evasively, having had no private tip on the President’s plans.
“Yes, but what can he,” demanded the German, “against that other pair? We shall all be swamped with Bolshevism—America along with the rest of us!
“Luckily for you the train comes in the morning,” he concluded, rising to indicate that the interview was at an end. “You would not have found us here this afternoon. May first is a national holiday this year, for the first time. We are a republic now, with socialistic leanings,” he ended, half savagely243, half sneeringly244.
An hour later I was speeding toward Berlin on a fast 108express. I had always found that a dash at the heart of things was apt to be surer than a dilly-dallying about the outskirts. Once in the capital, I could lay my plans on a sounder foundation than by setting out on my proposed tramp so near the border. To be sure, I had not ventured to buy a ticket to Berlin at a wicket surrounded by a dozen soldiers who had heard me assert that I was going to Hamburg. But—Dame Fortune seeming to have taken me under her wing for the day—a Dutch trainman with whom I fell into conversation chanced to have such a ticket in his pocket, which he was only too glad to sell. As a matter of fact, I doubt whether the open purchase of the bit of cardboard would have aroused any comment, much less created any difficulties. Looking back on it now from the pinnacle245 of weeks of travel in all parts of the German Empire, by every possible means of locomotion, that teapot tempest of passing the frontier seems far more than ridiculous. It is possible that the combination of circumstances made admittance—once gained—seem easier than it really is. But I cannot shake off the impression that the difficulties were almost wholly within my own disordered brain—disordered because of the wild tales that had been dished out to us by the Allied press. It was, of course, to the advantage of the correspondents fluttering about the dovecote at the head of Unter den13 Linden to create the impression that the only way to get into Germany was to cross the frontier on hands and knees in the darkest hour of a dark night at the most swampy and inaccessible246 spot, with a rabbit’s foot grasped firmly in one hand and the last will and testament247 in the other. The blague served at least two purposes—perfectly legitimate purposes at that, from a professional point of view—it made “bully good reading” at home, and it scared off competition, in the form of other correspondents, whose timorous248 natures precluded249 the possibility of attempting the perilous250 passage.
109Though it sap all the succeeding pages of the “suspense” so indispensable to continued interest, I may as well confess here as later that I moved about Germany with perfect freedom during all my stay there, far more freely than I could have at the same date in either Allied or neutral countries, that neither detectives nor spies dogged my footsteps nor did policemen halt me on every corner to demand my authority for being at large. Lest he hover251 menacingly in the background of some timorous reader’s memory, embittering252 any dewdrops of pleasure he may wring253 from this tale, let me say at once that I never again heard from or of the dreadful Herr Maltzen. Indeed, the castle of Bentheim had scarcely disappeared below the wet green horizon of a late spring when I caught myself grumbling254 that these simple Germans had wrecked what should have been a tale to cause the longest hair to stand stiffly erect122 and the most pachydermous skin to develop goose-flesh. Saddest of all—let us have the worst and be done with it—they continued that exasperating255 simplicity256 to the end, and left me little else for all my labors than the idle vaporings of a summer tourist.
Contrary to my expectations, the train was an excellent Schnellzug, making rare stops and riding as easily as if the armistice conditions had not so much as mentioned rolling-stock. The plush covering of several seats was missing, as beyond the Rhine, but things were as orderly, the trainmen as polite and diligently bent214 on doing their duty as if they had been under the military command of an exacting enemy. In our first-class compartment there were two American lieutenants in uniform, yet there was not so much as a facial protest that they should be occupying seats while German men and women stood in the corridor. There was, to be sure, a bit of rather cold staring, and once what might have been called an “incident.” At Osnabrück we were joined by a cropped-headed young German, wearing 110the ribbon of the Iron Cross in the lapel of his civilian clothing, but whom a chance word informed us was still a captain, accompanied by two older men. They sat in expressionless silence for a time; then one of the older men said, testily257:
“Let’s see if we can’t find a more congenial compartment. Here there is too much English spoken.” And the trio disappeared. As a matter of fact, the English they heard was being chiefly spoken by a Dutch diplomat who had fallen in with us. I could not reflect, however, that to have spoken German in a French train at that date would have been positively258 dangerous. The lieutenants and the diplomat asserted that they had never before seen any such evidence of feeling among the defeated enemy, and it is the only strained situation of the kind that I recall having witnessed during all my German journey. When we changed cars at L?hne soldiers and civilians gazed rather coldly, as well as curiously259, at the lieutenants, yet even when people chatted and laughed with them there was no outward evidence of protest.
There were very few cattle and almost no laborers260 in the fields, though the holiday may have accounted for the absence of the latter. The landscape looked everywhere well cultivated and there were no signs that any except purposely pasture lands had been allowed to lie fallow. Near Hanover, with its great engine-works, stood hundreds of rusted175 locomotives which had been refused by the Allies. Among them were large numbers that the Germans had drawn from Russia and which were now useless even to the Teutons, since they were naphtha-burners, and naphtha was no longer to be had within the Empire. Acres upon acres of cars, both passenger and freight, filled another yard—cars from Posen, from Breslau, from München, and from K?nigsberg, from every corner of Germany. At Nauen the masts of the great wireless261 station from which 111we had picked up most of our German news during the war loomed262 into the evening sky, and beyond were some immense Zeppelin hangars bulking above the flat landscape like distant mountains. We reached Berlin on time and before dark. May-day had brought all city transportation to a standstill; neither taxi, carriage, nor tramcar was to be found—though it was reported that this first official national holiday had been the tamest in years. Farmers’ carts and beer wagons263 had been turned into carryalls and transported a score of passengers each, seated precariously264 on loose boards, from station to station. Hotels were as packed as they seem to be in all capitals in war-time. The magnificent Adlon, housing the Allied commissions, laughed in my face. For two hours I canvassed265 that section of the city and finally paid eleven marks for accommodation in a hotel of decayed gentility at the door of which an old sign read: “Fine rooms on the garden, two marks and upward.” To be sure, the rate of exchange made the difference considerably266 less than it seemed—to those who had purchased their marks in the foreign market.
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1
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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footpath
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| n.小路，人行道 | |
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meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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contradictory
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| adj.反驳的，反对的，抗辩的；n.正反对，矛盾对立 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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cons
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| n.欺骗，骗局( con的名词复数 )v.诈骗，哄骗( con的第三人称单数 ) | |
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7
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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lucid
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| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
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adage
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| n.格言，古训 | |
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plagiarized
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| v.剽窃，抄袭( plagiarize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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hamper
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| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
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neutralizing
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| v.使失效( neutralize的现在分词 )；抵消；中和；使（一个国家）中立化 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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25
exuding
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的现在分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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insular
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| adj.岛屿的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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scurry
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| vi.急匆匆地走；使急赶；催促；n.快步急跑，疾走；仓皇奔跑声；骤雨，骤雪；短距离赛马 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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arteries
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| n.动脉( artery的名词复数 )；干线，要道 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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48
ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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49
bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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50
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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51
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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52
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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54
reigns
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| n.君主的统治( reign的名词复数 )；君主统治时期；任期；当政期 | |
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55
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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replica
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| n.复制品 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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meticulously
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| adv.过细地，异常细致地；无微不至；精心 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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64
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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65
caliber
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| n.能力；水准 | |
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vaudeville
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| n.歌舞杂耍表演 | |
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67
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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69
incognito
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| adv.匿名地；n.隐姓埋名；adj.化装的，用假名的，隐匿姓名身份的 | |
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70
ardently
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| adv.热心地，热烈地 | |
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71
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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72
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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stodgy
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| adj.易饱的；笨重的；滞涩的；古板的 | |
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laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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75
sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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76
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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77
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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78
diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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79
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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80
rehabilitation
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| n.康复，悔过自新，修复，复兴，复职，复位 | |
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81
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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82
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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83
witticisms
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| n.妙语，俏皮话( witticism的名词复数 ) | |
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84
mashed
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| a.捣烂的 | |
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85
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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86
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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87
yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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88
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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89
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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90
progeny
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| n.后代，子孙；结果 | |
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91
hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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92
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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93
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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94
bonbons
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| n.小糖果( bonbon的名词复数 ) | |
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95
belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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96
tantalizingly
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| adv.…得令人着急，…到令人着急的程度 | |
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97
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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98
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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99
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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100
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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101
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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102
elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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103
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
locomotion
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| n.运动，移动 | |
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105
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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106
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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107
destined
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| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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108
dwindling
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| adj.逐渐减少的v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的现在分词 ) | |
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109
stevedores
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| n.码头装卸工人，搬运工( stevedore的名词复数 ) | |
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110
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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111
amassed
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| v.积累，积聚( amass的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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112
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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113
pros
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| abbr.prosecuting 起诉；prosecutor 起诉人；professionals 自由职业者；proscenium （舞台）前部n.赞成的意见( pro的名词复数 )；赞成的理由；抵偿物；交换物 | |
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114
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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115
mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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116
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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117
extemporized
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| v.即兴创作，即席演奏( extemporize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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118
serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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119
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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120
abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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121
plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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122
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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123
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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124
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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125
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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126
gibes
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| vi.嘲笑，嘲弄（gibe的第三人称单数形式） | |
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127
alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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128
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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129
mimed
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| v.指手画脚地表演，用哑剧的形式表演( mime的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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130
bucolic
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| adj.乡村的；牧羊的 | |
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131
kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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132
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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133
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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134
skit
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| n.滑稽短剧；一群 | |
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135
hoary
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| adj.古老的；鬓发斑白的 | |
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136
sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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137
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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138
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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139
consulate
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| n.领事馆 | |
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140
queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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141
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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142
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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143
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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144
outfitted
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| v.装备，配置设备，供给服装( outfit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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145
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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146
debit
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| n.借方，借项，记人借方的款项 | |
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147
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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148
bovine
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| adj.牛的；n.牛 | |
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149
fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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150
ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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151
resonant
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| adj.(声音)洪亮的，共鸣的 | |
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152
credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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153
suave
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| adj.温和的；柔和的；文雅的 | |
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154
diplomat
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| n.外交官，外交家；能交际的人，圆滑的人 | |
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155
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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156
mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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157
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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158
autonomous
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| adj.自治的；独立的 | |
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159
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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160
dictating
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的现在分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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161
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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162
stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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163
perused
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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164
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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165
labors
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| v.努力争取(for)( labor的第三人称单数 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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166
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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167
waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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168
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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169
civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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170
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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171
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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172
tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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173
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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174
espionage
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| n.间谍行为，谍报活动 | |
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175
rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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176
envoy
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| n.使节，使者，代表，公使 | |
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177
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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178
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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179
confiscation
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| n. 没收, 充公, 征收 | |
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180
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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181
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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182
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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183
subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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184
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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185
dormant
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| adj.暂停活动的；休眠的；潜伏的 | |
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186
putative
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| adj.假定的 | |
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187
sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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188
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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189
reclaimed
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| adj.再生的；翻造的；收复的；回收的v.开拓( reclaim的过去式和过去分词 )；要求收回；从废料中回收（有用的材料）；挽救 | |
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190
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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191
canards
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| n.谣传，谎言( canard的名词复数 ) | |
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192
rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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193
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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194
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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195
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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196
ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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197
rosier
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| Rosieresite | |
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198
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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199
refinement
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| n.文雅；高尚；精美；精制；精炼 | |
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relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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201
foodstuffs
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| 食物，食品( foodstuff的名词复数 ) | |
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202
emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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203
bulges
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| 膨胀( bulge的名词复数 )； 鼓起； （身体的）肥胖部位； 暂时的激增 | |
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evading
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| 逃避( evade的现在分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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205
authorization
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| n.授权，委任状 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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207
linings
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| n.衬里( lining的名词复数 )；里子；衬料；组织 | |
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smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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209
hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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210
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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211
swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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212
recipient
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| a.接受的,感受性强的 n.接受者,感受者,容器 | |
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213
armistice
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| n.休战，停战协定 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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216
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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217
cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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218
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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219
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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220
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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222
attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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asinine
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| adj.愚蠢的 | |
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225
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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specified
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| adj.特定的 | |
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228
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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230
stationery
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| n.文具；(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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231
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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232
massage
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| n.按摩，揉；vt.按摩，揉，美化，奉承，篡改数据 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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234
indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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235
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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236
lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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238
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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239
imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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241
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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242
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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243
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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244
sneeringly
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| 嘲笑地，轻蔑地 | |
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245
pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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246
inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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247
testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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248
timorous
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| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
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249
precluded
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| v.阻止( preclude的过去式和过去分词 )；排除；妨碍；使…行不通 | |
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250
perilous
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| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
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251
hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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252
embittering
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的现在分词 ) | |
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253
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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254
grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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255
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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256
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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257
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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258
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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259
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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260
laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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261
wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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262
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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263
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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264
precariously
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| adv.不安全地；危险地；碰机会地；不稳定地 | |
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265
canvassed
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| v.（在政治方面）游说( canvass的过去式和过去分词 )；调查（如选举前选民的）意见；为讨论而提出（意见等）；详细检查 | |
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266
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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