But there was yet another party—the ‘Extreme Loyalists,’ as they were ironically termed—who were{168} faithful to Sophia. They were few in number, but fanatically sure of their own orthodoxy. There must be, they said, another explanation; it was not within the bounds of possibility that Sophia had originated this scheme, or was in any way responsible for its execution. These, when asked for any explanation that could hold water, would not commit themselves; some silently held Malakopf responsible, some Prince Petros; others, who had seen the wife of the Mayor of Amandos lose a hundred francs with a very bad grace at the tables, were ready to affirm that she, being born from princely blood, had secret schemes on the throne of Rhodopé. This last explanation was considered to be in indifferent taste; men did not just now desire jokes about the future of the monarchy5.
But no crisis of feverish6 excitement could stay the passage of hours. Christmas Day, with its sequence of festas, was a mockery of merriment, and still there came no sign from those in authority, no word that could in any way allay7 the rising fever of the people. More than once crowds collected outside the Palace, and shouted for Prince Petros to speak to them. Once he appeared at the window and bowed to them, but shook his head, and those who saw him said he was pale and haggard and unshaved, and the mob dispersed8 in silence, feeling that perhaps there was a deeper tragedy than they knew. How unlike his gay and gallant9 figure was that mournful, dishevelled apparition10! They would have been even more puzzled if they had been able{169} to see him a moment after turn to Malakopf, who was sitting with him, and ask with a sprightly11 air, ‘Didn’t I do that well?’
Up till the 28th the serenity12 of the weather corresponded but ill with the tempest of the political outlook, but on that morning it seemed that even the elements were drawn13 into the vortex of the storm. A morning of sultry and unseasonable heat, thick like a blanket, ushered14 in a wailing15 wind from the east, but in some higher current of the air a rack of thunder-clouds, black and ominous16, stole up from behind Corfu, and before evening had spread slowly and impenetrably over the sky. The heat of the morning had given place to a bitter and freezing cold, a cold which pierced the marrow18 and congealed19 the vital forces. But the east wind had dropped, and, a portent20 to behold21, flash after flash of remote lightning lit up the gathering22 darkness of an Arctic night. About midnight the storm burst in a blinding hurricane of sleet23 and snow, and all the artillery24 of heaven thundered above it. At Amandos snow was as much a foreigner as thunder; often in summer the great hilltops round were cloaked in thunder-clouds or smouldered with lightning, yet no cloud obscured the brightness of the heaven from the valley. Again, in winter these same hilltops wore white mantles25 for four months, yet a genial26 sun, bright and invigorating, shone ever on the town. To lie beneath this double portent was an ominous thing, and the people, tuned27 to superstition28 by their new education at the tables, shook their heads, and{170} prophesied29 a revolution of elements more intimate to them than snow or thunder.
An even livelier disquietude possessed30 Lady Blanche. The morning of the 29th it were an abuse of language to call a morning at all. The darkness, peopled by nothing but snowflakes and the maddened scream of the wind, seemed more palpable by the faint, sick glimmer32 of the day than it had been at night. All the forenoon the hurricane waxed ever fiercer, and, like drums, it was possible to hear, amid the shrill33 clamour of the wind, the booming of the great surges driven on the Cape34 of Mavromáti, a dozen miles away. Lady Blanche determined35 to telegraph to the Princess that should leave Corfu at once, even anticipating her arrival by a day rather than risk the danger of arriving an hour too late; but her fears were irremediable, the telegraph-wires to Mavromáti were down, Amandos was cut off from all the world.
Then she would have sent a messenger to Mavromáti with her message, but that too was impossible. Who could hope to pass alive through the forest in which the road lay, where the pines were falling like ninepins and snapping under the snow like matches? Noon came, unmarked except by the clock, and her anxiety grew irrepressible. Outside the Legation windows lay the square of the town, which had been so gay for Sophia’s wedding; to-day it might have been a rural scene in Spitzbergen, so completely had the snow denuded36 it of its evidences of civilization. A desert of white drifts was all her view; one could{171} scarce believe that a row of houses ran north and south from their door, that a hundred yards away rose the cathedral, or that fifty paces to the left were the steps of the Assembly, which in two days would meet—for what? Yet it was necessary, no less, that Princess Sophia should be here in forty-eight hours, and it was this problem of how it was possible that she should get here that Blanche, crushing her temples in her hands, set herself to solve.
She must get here, so much was certain; that, at any rate, was a fixed37 point in this awful vagueness. The Adriatic boomed its shipwrecking denial; twelve miles of tree-strewn, snow-drifted forest lay between Mavromáti and Amandos. How, how, and yet again, how?
Of the Princess’s courage to face, if need be, the final storm, the trumpet38 of the Archangel, Blanche had no doubt. Yet what sane39 skipper would put to sea in such a madness of the heavens? A telegram must be sent to tell Sophia that all the powers of hell must not hinder her return. The telegram had to be sent. Who could be trusted to go to Mavromáti, and not turn back, saying that the mission was beyond all possibility? Instantly the solution struck her—she would go herself. Lord Abbotsworthy dozing40 after lunch; she broke in on his slumbers41.
‘Oh, father,’ she said, ‘there is not time to explain, but take my word for it. Unless Sophia—unless the Princess—is here before that forged Bill of hers comes before the House on the thirty-first,{172} she is no more Princess of Rhodopé. She, her line, her country, are at stake. She is at Corfu—ah! do not ask me how I know, but I know she is—with the Empress, ready to return. Come she must.’
Lord Abbotsworthy held up a listening hand.
‘Boom! boom!’ he said; ‘that is the Adriatic. But you are so unexpected, Blanche. Dear me, how sleepy I am! Princess Sophia may be at Corfu, or the Falkland Islands; it is all one. Why should she come? In any case, she cannot.’
The Minister was still struggling with the drowsiness43 that snow brings, and regarded Blanche’s voice more as the imaginings of a political nightmare than the tones of his child.
‘Oh, you don’t understand!’ she cried. ‘But I know all about this wicked Bill. It is an invention of Malakopf and that husband of Sophia’s. I am in communication with the Princess. Well, the wires are down between here and Mavromáti, and I am going there to tell her to come back at once.’
Lord Abbotsworthy was by this time sufficiently44 awake to understand that Blanche was in earnest.
‘My dear child, you can’t go,’ he said. ‘But a man might get through. Shall I telegraph to the Foreign Office? Oh, I forget, the wires are down.’
He rose and went to the window.
‘It is impossible,’ he said; ‘the drifts will be deeper than a man’s height through the forests.’
‘I know,’ said Blanche, ‘but one could follow the river till one came out on to the lower plain. There{173} will probably be less snow there. And I must go myself. I must see Sophia before she comes to Amandos; it is her crown to her.’
Lord Abbotsworthy looked at Blanche approvingly. His diplomatic calm never left him.
‘You are not the first woman of your race who has shown a man’s pluck,’ he said. ‘Well, you shall have your way. There is a bridle-path by the river, is there not? Take two men with you—Yanni, and the English groom45, who will see to the horses. Yanni can find his way anywhere, even at Waterloo Junction46. Meantime, Blanche, if this is likely to be a question of an hour or two losing or winning everything, I will send out some men to clear the path for the Princess’s return. I take your word for the whole matter, and I will not delay you by asking questions. I assume that I can do nothing, or else you would have told me what I could do.’
‘Oh, father, that is good of you!’ she cried. ‘Let them do all they can to make the carriage-road passable by Wednesday morning; one can go quicker that way. I will send for Yanni.’
In half an hour they were off. Lord Abbotsworthy’s head-keeper, a shrewd greyhound of an Albanian, who knew the forests as a man knows his house, had said that it would be possible to make a way along the bridle-path by the river, thus avoiding the delay and danger of falling or fallen trees, and the groom took the order with the bland47 imperturbability48 of an English servant. They had each a horse, or rather a sturdy mountain cob,{174} animals more surefooted than a cat, wise, strong, and steady. They left the Legation by the stable-gate, so as to avoid the possibility of being seen by anyone from the houses in the square, and in a moment the white tumult49 of the driven snow had swallowed them up.
The confusion of the elements was incredible; the snow, driven almost horizontally by the wind, was more like a solid sheet than an infinity50 of flakes31. Beneath the shelter of houses, they made their way quickly out of the town, though not without danger, for the tiles on the windward side of the roofs, where the snow could not lie, were starting up like disturbed game, and would be shot with a rattle51 half-way across the street, burying themselves with a silent plunge52 in the snow, and once half a chimney fell not three yards in front of Blanche.
It was not till they left the last houses behind that they realized the full uproar53 of the heavens, and in ten minutes, for all that could be seen, they might have been at Amandos or Mavromáti. They could discern nothing, except a few yards of white ground on each side; they passed lumps and hummocks54 of snow to the right hand and the left, which might have been houses, or buried flocks of sheep, or hedgerows. But Yanni, with the aid of a compass and a long pole, which from time to time he thrust forward beyond his pony55 to guard against slipping into a drift, led them cannily56 on. In an hour or so they could tell he was on the right track, for the ground began rapidly to decline, and on their left{175} they passed from time to time a fallen tree, or a group of wind-tormented pines, which must be the outliers of the forest. Soon the screaming of the wind was overscored by a hoarser57 note, and in ten minutes more they came down to the river, yellow and swollen58 beyond recognition, a furlong breadth of maddened foam59, peopled with trees, house-beams, débris of huts and now and then some dead animal—sheep, pig, or goat—all twisting and whirling down with a ghastly sort of gaiety in a veritable dance of death.
A steep bank of snow led to the river-side, on which lay the bridle-path they must now find and follow, and Yanni dismounted to probe about for it. Once he slipped up to the neck in a drift, and when Blanche and the groom dragged him out, he shook his head in grave self-reproof.
‘I doubt my mother bore a fool,’ he said.
But before long they found it, and once found, it was easily possible to follow the path, for it lay notably60 level on that hillside of snow.
About four of the afternoon, when the faint glimmer of day was turning into a more palpable darkness, a change, at first hardly perceptible, began to come over the tumult of the weather. The wind blew only in sudden squalls and sonorous61 gusts62, with intervals63 of quiet; the falling snow grew thinner and finer, and though they were rapidly descending64, the cold grew more exquisite65 and piercing. The ponies’ feet, instead of plunging66 noiselessly into the fallen stuff, made each step through a crisp upper{176} crust of frozen snow. By five the sky was clear and the wind dead, and an innumerable host of large and frosty stars began to glimmer like half-lit lamps in a vault67 of velvet68. As the intenser darkness of night came on they burned ever more luminously69, and every foot of the country, lying white polished and shining, caught and reflected their brightness. Eastwards70 the sky was gray with the approach of moonrise, and even before the full circle topped the hills to the east, it was as if day but now succeeded to night rather than night to day.
Before seven they had joined the main-road from Mavromáti below and beyond the intervening forest. The air was of an exceeding clearness, and crisp with frost, and not five miles away twinkled the lights of the port, and the various fingers of the lighthouse. Behind them, a black blot71 in the moonlight, rose the forest, shoulder over shoulder; to their right brawled72 the swollen stream, but all was as still and as frozen as an Arctic day.
Not till then, when, morally speaking, their journey was over, did Lady Blanche realize how acute her anxiety had been.
‘Oh, William!’ she exclaimed to the groom, with a sudden, half-hysterical laugh, ‘we shall soon be there.’
‘Yes, my lady,’ replied that iron-faced functionary73, and he brushed a little frill of icicles from his hair and eyebrows74.
The night was windless and deadly cold, but the beauty of it was beyond compare. On all sides{177} stretched acre on acre of frozen snow, rounded and billowy, but every outline was etched with the crispness of the frost. The sound of their ponies’ going was like a biting of toast; other noise there was none, except the crashing thunder of the broken surges on the shore. As they drew nearer, these ever became the more stupendous, till the ear was filled with their booming, as with the roar of a train in a tunnel. Soon it was possible to detect above the increasing riot the scream of the pebbly75 beach continually dragged down to the jaws76 of one wave, only to be vomited77 up afresh by the next, and her anxieties again began to lie heavy on Lady Blanche. Her part was done; in another hour the telegraph would twitch78 her message across to Corfu; but how would it be possible for any yacht to win through those mountainous billows? Down on the sea-board the snowfall had been less deep, and before eight they had entered the streets, all dumb and silent, and the telegram summoning Sophia at once had been despatched.
Early on the morning of the 30th came the Princess’s reply. ‘I am just going on board. We start at once. It will be rather rough,’ it said, and no more; and all that day Blanche watched in a fever of impatience79 for a sight of the newly-christened Revenge. In fair weather it was a crossing of not more than six hours, but who could say how many in such a sea? She consulted with Yanni as to the possible means of return to Amandos, for this frost would render the road impassable to{178} carriages, however zealous80 had been the work of the men Lord Abbotsworthy had sent out, and he said that riding was the only mode of passage. Lady Blanche was seated at her window in the sitting-room81 of the H?tel Royal while the old keeper talked to her, and looking out idly into the street, she saw two children playing together on the frozen and compacted snow. One had a board, to which he had tied a string; the other sat on it, and was easily pulled along. Suddenly she applied82 the suggestion, and with dismay at her own stupidity.
‘Oh, Yanni!’ she cried, ‘I am a fool, and you another! A sledge83!’
But a sledge was an unknown conveyance84 in Rhodopé, and Blanche hired a light cart. She had the wheels taken off, and two wooden runners, shod with steel, fitted on to its springs. The superintendence of this carpentering served to fill in the hours of that awful day of waiting; but when night fell there was still no signal of a ship. The wind had again risen to hurricane force, maddening still more the maddened sea, and a threat of a further fall of snow was abroad. The stars in their courses seemed to fight against Sophia.
The meeting of the Assembly was fixed for half-past three the next afternoon. Allowing for a long speech from Prince Petros, and the possibility of opposition85 contrary to the Constitution of Rhodopé, by six o’clock to-morrow afternoon at latest Sophia must be at Amandos. How she would choose to act Blanche could not guess, but that she was{179} content to leave to the Princess. Her part was to get Sophia there. Outside the note of the gale86 would rise and fall again octave over octave, like the hootings of some infernal siren, but as yet there was neither more snow nor thaw87. But the crash of the breakers grew ever hungrier and more splitting, and still the Revenge came not.
She could not bring herself to go to bed, but sat listening in a horrible dread88 for she scarcely knew what. But when across the mingled89 bellowings of the storm she heard a gun fired out at sea, she sprang up with a palpitating heart and a gasp90 for breath, knowing that it was this which she had feared. Running to the window, she saw a rocket shoot up in a line of flame, like a match struck in the dark, and a minute afterwards the report of it followed. She rang the bell hastily and told Yanni to come with her along the pier17 out to the lighthouse at the end.
It was now only a little before midnight, and the moon plunged91 and sped through a rack of flying clouds, like a woman distraught, now naked, now clad in blowing vapours. The wind came straight off the sea, piercingly cold, and full of spray and blown sand, while over the frozen carpet of snow in the street wisps of brown seaweed and pebbles92 from the beach scudded93 and bowled along like little people in a panic. On the pier itself the force of the wind was more tremendous, and they had to make a slanting94 tack95 as they walked, zigzagging96 to and fro, and leaning against the gale as against{180} a wall. Once and again the signal of distress97 came from the sea, and round the house where the lifeboat was kept they could see a throng98 of men growing and increasing, and the light of lanterns tossed up and down in the stinging air. Then from the sea shot up another rocket, and a cold blue light burned steadily99 for some seconds or so, and in that glare Blanche made out the three masts of a sailing-ship, and a flood of relief welled in her heart.
‘Oh, thank God!’ she cried, ‘it is not she!’ And next moment ‘Oh, poor folk! poor folk!’ she said; and Yanni crossed himself and muttered a prayer for their safety.
There was a coastguard station at the end of the pier, and she asked for the officer in command, giving her name, and saying that a steamer called the Revenge was expected, which had on board some friends of Lord Abbotsworthy. It had started from Corfu early that morning. Then, remembering that no communication with Amandos was possible, and that though the men would, in case of the necessity for rescue, do their best, though there were only a crew of the hated Turks on board—yet the knowledge that Sophia was there could not but be an incentive100 to heroisms—she told all.
‘Captain Hatsopoulo,’ she said, ‘the Revenge is none other than the Felatrune. Princess Sophia is on board, and little Prince Leonard; the whole hopes of the House of ?gina are there. There is a foul101 plot against her—this Bill, in fact, which you may have heard of. I can tell you no more. But{181} she must be in Amandos to-morrow—she must! she must! Ah, it is already to-morrow—she must be there this afternoon.’
The ship which had made signals of distress had by now come close into shore, and already the lifeboat was out. They had quickly got a rope out to her, for she was already breaking up, and the work of rescue was going on. Blanche had gone into the house of the coastguard station, for an inward necessity for being near prevented her from going back to the hotel, and she sat by the fire in a room they prepared for her, waiting. In another hour came news that the crew of the vessel102 had all been saved, but the ship lost. Not long after this she fell into an uneasy doze2, and dreamed that the kingdom of Rhodopé was a bright little round thing, like a roulette-marble. She and Sophia had gone out for a walk together, and Sophia had dropped it, and now she and the Princess were hunting for it in the snow. Others were hunting for it, too. Gray, uncanny shapes like wolves trotted103 incessantly104 about; some were like Malakopf, some reminded her of Prince Petros, others had terrible whiskers and green eyes; others, again, were more in the semblance105 of fiends unimaginably horrible, and they all scratched and nosed in the snow for the little bright marble. Then she slept more deeply, and a dreamless slumber42 succeeded to these uneasy visions.
It was already day when she awoke; the faithful Yanni was stretched out on the floor beside her chair asleep, and it was Captain Hatsopoulo’s en{182}trance that had roused her. She started at once into the full possession of her faculties106, and sprang up.
‘Ah! I no longer hear the wind,’ she cried. ‘Well, captain, what is it?’
‘The Revenge has been sighted,’ he said. ‘You can see her out of this window.’
Far out over the waste of tossing water there heaved up and sank again the masts and bulwarks107 of a steamer. Captain Hatsopoulo took Blanche to where the great telescope stood.
‘Watch her as she rises to a wave,’ he said. ‘There! that is none other than the Felatrune. You can see her colours. The Princess is flying her own flag! God save the Princess!’ he cried.
‘God save her!’ echoed Blanche; ‘and confound the tricks of her enemies!’
The Revenge was steering108 an easterly course from Corfu, and about ten of the morning she came opposite Mavromáti, still some miles out to sea. They saw her swing this way and that, now labouring low in the trough of the waves, now poised109 on the top, and for the next hour watched her still nearing them, her masts striking wildly right and left across a space of some ninety degrees, so that it made Blanche feel qualms110 of nausea111 only to see her. On shore, opposite the landing stage where she would put in, was drawn up the sledge, ready to start at a moment’s notice; and opposite, on the other side of the harbour, the lifeboat was launched with its crew, in case she could not make the har{183}bour mouth, and was driven ashore112. The port of Mavromáti faced almost north, and the gale from the north-west had raised a terrific cross-sea. As she drew nearer, they could see that she had changed her course a point or two northwards, to allow space enough so that she should not be carried against the south pier by the huge billows that swept across the entrance. Already she had slackened steam, and made almost imperceptible way towards them. Then came a minute of awful suspense113 as she moved close up to the harbour mouth, so perilously114 near to the wall of broken water which dashed over the end of the south pier that the spray of it hid her for a moment; the next she was beyond the breakers, and safe.
Blanche was already half-way across the harbour to meet her, and before the yacht had come to anchor she was over the side and in Sophia’s arms.
‘Ah, you are not much too soon, dearest Sophia!’ she cried, ‘I have waited here all night. Quick! come ashore; and the sledge is ready.’
‘Is there room in it for a box?’ she asked. ‘I do not want to appear before the Assembly in travelling clothes.’
‘Yes, yes, there is room,’ cried the other. ‘You shall dress at the Legation. Come—only come!’
‘Petros will be surprised to see me,’ remarked the Princess. ‘As we go, you shall tell me everything.’
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pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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monarchy
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| n.君主，最高统治者；君主政体，君主国 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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allay
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dispersed
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gallant
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apparition
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sprightly
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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drawn
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wailing
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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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pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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congealed
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的过去式和过去分词 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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portent
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behold
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gathering
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sleet
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artillery
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mantles
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genial
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tuned
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superstition
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prophesied
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possessed
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flakes
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glimmer
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shrill
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cape
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determined
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denuded
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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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38
trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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39
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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40
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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41
slumbers
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| 睡眠，安眠( slumber的名词复数 ) | |
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42
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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43
drowsiness
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| n.睡意；嗜睡 | |
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44
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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45
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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46
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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47
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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48
imperturbability
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| n.冷静；沉着 | |
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49
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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50
infinity
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| n.无限，无穷，大量 | |
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51
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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52
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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53
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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54
hummocks
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| n.小丘，岗( hummock的名词复数 ) | |
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55
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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56
cannily
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| 精明地 | |
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57
hoarser
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| （指声音）粗哑的，嘶哑的( hoarse的比较级 ) | |
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58
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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59
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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60
notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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61
sonorous
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| adj.响亮的，回响的；adv.圆润低沉地；感人地；n.感人，堂皇 | |
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62
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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63
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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64
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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65
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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66
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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67
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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68
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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luminously
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| 发光的； 明亮的； 清楚的； 辉赫 | |
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eastwards
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| adj.向东方（的），朝东（的）；n.向东的方向 | |
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71
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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72
brawled
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| 打架，争吵( brawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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74
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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75
pebbly
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| 多卵石的，有卵石花纹的 | |
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76
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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77
vomited
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78
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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79
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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80
zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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81
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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82
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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83
sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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84
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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85
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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86
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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87
thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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88
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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89
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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90
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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91
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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92
pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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93
scudded
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| v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
slanting
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| 倾斜的，歪斜的 | |
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95
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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96
zigzagging
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| v.弯弯曲曲地走路，曲折地前进( zigzag的现在分词 )；盘陀 | |
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97
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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98
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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99
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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100
incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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101
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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102
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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103
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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104
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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105
semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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106
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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107
bulwarks
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| n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 )；保障；支柱；舷墙 | |
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108
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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109
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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110
qualms
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| n.不安；内疚 | |
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111
nausea
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| n.作呕，恶心；极端的憎恶(或厌恶) | |
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112
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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113
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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114
perilously
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| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
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