While John Lee carried his experience of the night to Grace at the first opportunity, Malherb told no man of the nocturnal meeting with Lovey. He turned his secret over, and between intervals1 of hunting and of work, held deep speculation2 with himself how best to circumvent3 the miser4. Vaguely5 he dreamed of cunning traps and surprises, but such warfare6 was foreign to Maurice Malherb, and his mind lent itself to no subtlety7 in that sort. Nor would he ask assistance of any man; for, though he thought upon Peter Norcot more than once, and might, indeed, have made no better choice, yet pride rebelled before the spectacle of himself seeking aid to outwit a woman. That he would recover Lovey's stolen treasure the master felt positive; but no means of doing so immediately appeared.
John Lee, meanwhile, had less than Malherb's knowledge in one direction, much more in another. That the amphora was actually in his grandmother's possession he did not guess; but the locality of her hidden haunt he had discovered. All that he knew Grace now learnt, and her mind awoke into great enthusiasm.
"'And then she vanished'! No, no, dear John; people don't vanish—not even mysterious, savage9 old misers10 like Lovey. She went somewhere out of your sight and out of your reach for the present; but flesh and blood cannot vanish," said Grace very seriously.
"There were witches in the Bible, and there may be on Dartmoor," he answered. "Not that I'm afeared any more. I'm going to hunt Hangman's Hollow every moment of my spare time henceforth. All the future depends on it for me, and for you, and for Mr. Malherb also, since you say that without money things must fall out hardly in a year or so."
Yet, despite John Lee's great resolutions, a chance unforeseen came now to thwart13 them, and it was many weeks before any human foot explored the desolate14 ravine that hid Lovey Lee's secrets. As though to convince the master of Fox Tor Farm that the moor11-men did well to fear winter, terrific weather fell upon the upland waste. Long weeks of sulky black frost ended in white frost. From lowering skies the sun crept forth12 above the undulation of Cater's Beam; but his direct rays proved powerless to thaw15 the ground. Each night the frost bit deeper; each morning the cattle byres were coated with ice from the frozen breath of the kine. Work was suspended, and the world seemed a thing perished and insensible to any further touch of life. Then, alter a cloudless week, the wind, that had puffed16 fitfully as it listed, yet never found a cloud to drive along the pale azure18 floors of heaven, went north and stopped there. Now the frost abated19 by a degree or two, but still remained severe and, from day to day, feathers and films of cloud swept southerly. For some time these vanished before nightfall; then they increased and a few light snow-showers fell. They heralded20 a notable and terrific blizzard21, whose sustained fury burst upon the Moor, swallowed its boundaries, buried its lonely heart and piled mighty22 barriers of snow between the central waste and all civilisation23. Fox Tor Farm was well equipped for such a siege; but many an isolated24 homestead, now surprised by weather beyond man's memory to parallel, found itself much straitened until the thaw.
At one place above all others this avalanche25 of snow brought with it deep concern and anxiety. In the War Prison, Commandant Cottrell and his staff, with ten thousand men to feed, found great problems threatening their peace. Supplies promised quickly to run short, and even the store of sealed provisions set aside for any possible emergency, represented little more than a week's fare for the hosts of Americans and French. Within three days of the great isolation26 food was being nursed and rations27 were decreased—a hardship terrible at such a time. But unutterable suffering and woe28 beyond words marked these black weeks at Prince Town. Infinite cold settled upon the waste, and thousands of prisoners stuck all day to their hammocks, leaving them only at the hour of meals. All buying and selling had been suspended, for the country-folk now possessed29 nothing they could part from. Within the War Prison order and discipline were scarce maintained beneath the strain; death reigned30 at the hospital, and nimiety of human misery31 found an end in the frozen earth.
The tempest that followed upon this arctic weather deeply affected32 the fortunes of the Seven. After some weeks of imprisonment33 in the cachots, Cecil Stark34 and his companions rejoined their compatriots in Prison No. 4. What had happened to defeat their scheme they knew not, and no thought of treachery amongst their comrades darkened a single heart, because every man supposed that Lovey Lee had betrayed them. For a time after their failure each held aloof35 from the rest, since suspicious eyes now closely marked their actions. Then came a meeting with Captain Cottrell, and immediately after their liberation, the three officers, Miller36, Stark and Burnham, were summoned before the Commandant.
They appeared and for the first time learnt that Peter Norcot had availed with the authorities.
"But those who break prison would break parole," said Cottrell drily. "Therefore upon my report, gentlemen, and as the result of your own folly37, the privileges that a generous Government was prepared to extend to you are now denied."
Commodore Miller answered for the Americans.
"Little need be said to what you tell us, Captain Cottrell. We stand under a deep debt of gratitude38 to Mr. Norcot, for his generous and disinterested39 effort on our behalf; and our failure to make good escape will not unnaturally40 be punished by a withdrawal41 of the privilege of parole. One other point only of your remarks challenges my comment, and that I would willingly avoid, since it is no wish of ours to quarrel personally with any man in authority. But when you say that those who would break prison would break parole, I declare that you speak for yourself, and not for these gentlemen, or for me. We are honourable42 men and the prisoners of an honourable country, but you—by these words you have proclaimed yourself a mean and base soul, not worthy43 either to have the control of gentlemen, or to mingle44 with them."
The Commodore spoke45 with calm self-restraint, and upon the silence that followed his rebuke46 struck Stark with somewhat less careful choice of words.
"Every man has a right to regain47 his liberty at any cost; but no man has a right to tell a lie and break a solemn oath. You are much to be pitied, Commandant, in that you, who call yourself an officer and a gentleman, can confuse such widely different issues."
The soldier gnawed48 his moustache and grew red.
"I stand corrected," he said. "So many of your countrymen have committed this crime of breaking their parole, that I assumed the issues were not regarded as opposite in the American mind. Commodore Miller, I pray that you will accept my apologies, and I shall be very happy after the war is ended, to give you every satisfaction."
"It is enough," said Miller. "I would that you could extend your ready sense of justice to the parole now tended to us by authority; but that, of course, is a question for your personal judgment49."
"In that connection no apology is needed nor will be offered," returned the other. "Had you escaped, the onus50 of the achievement must have fallen upon my shoulders. I had possibly been cashiered."
"Since we are on it, Captain Cottrell," said Stark, "may I, as a sportsman and in good faith, inquire how you discovered our enterprise and knew so punctually both when and where we should endeavour to depart?"
"What! the informer's name? Surely you know that informers are sacred in this world, whatever may be their fate in the next?"
"This much at least I beg you to tell us, if you hold it square with duty. Was it from within or from without that we were struck? We may desire to try again, and it is well to know friend from foe51."
Captain Cottrell laughed at the bold question. He reflected a moment, then made reply.
"You've preached me a sermon on honour, and I'll pay for it with a word of advice. A man's worst foes52 shall be they of his own household. There's a seed to sow in your heart, Mr. Stark! But since you will have it, then take it. At least I trust that it may serve to break up a little family party of Seven which I hear about. It will be better for all concerned that you respect the prison regulations henceforth. Now, gentlemen, I wish you a very good day."
In darkness and indignation they departed before this cynical53 speech. Stark and Burnham were for disbelieving it utterly54; Commodore Miller, more cautious and more experienced, deemed the assertion not one to ignore without serious reflections.
"'Tis a patent lie," declared Stark. "I marvel55 that you cannot see it, sir. He actually dared to declare his object in uttering it. He wishes to separate the Seven and scatter56 them finally. What more certain way of so doing than by making each distrust the rest?"
"We shall only doubt each other, however, if we believe him," said William Burnham.
"Yet I will not say offhand57 that he lied," answered the Commodore.
Thus the cloud worked to bitterness from the outset. Four of the Seven, their hearts fouled58 by racial prejudice, swore that Cuffee was the culprit; while the Commodore supported poor Sam, and Stark staked his own honesty and honour upon the negro's. Acrimonious59 conversations passed among them, and it seemed that Commandant Cottrell had fully17 effected his purpose; but then came the awful weather, and certain necessary relaxations60 called for by its severity, now drew the old friends together again in hope of escape.
The cold had long reduced all exercise in the open, and through the greater part of every day the prisoners collected by thousands in the chambers61 immediately beneath the roof of each main building. Here, through the windows, a wide survey of the surrounding country offered, and Stark and his friends often noted62 the visible contours of the land, and realised to some extent the accuracy of Lovey Lee's maps. They learned also of a matter more interesting and nearer at hand. The boxes upon the inner wall were empty, for one soldier had already perished of frost-bite on sentry-go, and two others were at the door of death. To stand in the open air for half an hour was a proceeding63 so dangerous that the inner wall now remained unguarded save by its automatic protection of bells and wires.
Upon the occasion of the blizzard, while yet nature waited in frozen silence and the north grew black at midday, six of the Seven, taking their lives in their hands, made a second effort to escape. David Leverett alone had no share in the enterprise, for he was sick of a chill and kept his bed in the hospital. Burnham and Stark demurred64 whether they might in honour repeat their attempt without him, but Commodore Miller decided65 that the greatest good to the greatest number must determine their action. They were all sailors, and failing the apparatus66 of a wire ladder, employed in their first experiment, they designed a living ladder that could be quickly built up of their own persons. The manoeuvre67 was not difficult, and they practised it out of sight of the sentries68 until each man well knew his place and part in it.
At the fall of evening, while yet faint grey light marked the western sky and the snow had only just begun to fall, many men went into the yards for water. This, in the shape of ice, they conveyed to the prisons, and each party in turn broke a portion from their frozen conduits and fled back shivering into the fetid warmth of the great buildings. The guards and the guarded alike shrank from the open air, and in that hour before the storm, a hundred men might have climbed out of the prison with no eye to mark their going. But the weather made escape suicide; the north wind and the snow were the gaolers of Dartmoor for many a day henceforth.
Separating themselves from the throng69, Commodore Miller and his companions departed one by one and presently assembled behind the angle of an empty cachot. From here they approached the inner wall, and, while the blood was still warm in them, set about their task. The square and solid shape of James Knapps came first, Sam Cuffee leapt to his shoulders, Stark followed, and then came Burnham, while the Commodore next worked his way up the living ladder; and the light and weakly person of Caleb Carberry brought up the rear. Once the warning bells jangled, but the wind swept the sound away, and no turnkey heard them. The darkness began to close in quickly, while far above ruddy splashes of light blazed like fierce eyes from the squat70 windows of the prison.
The difficulty of the ascension was quickly tackled and mastered. With Knapps centred the chief strain, but despite his weight the man proved nimble enough, and though he bruised71 both Cuffee and Stark not a little as he clambered over them, soon Jimmy reached the top. Then the negro, full of muffled72 regrets at his clumsy feet and hands, also went aloft, and within three minutes of the start the whole six had safely passed the inner wall. Descent from this was easy, for steps rose upon the outer side of it and communicated with the sentry-boxes along the top. Now snow fell upon them in great solitary73 flakes74, and they got a glimpse of inky cloud-banks swallowing the Moor to windward; then they hurried down into the great fosse beneath them, crossed it and prepared to scale the outer wall.
Up they went, though more slowly than before, for the cold began to touch them. Soon they crowded in a row aloft like forlorn birds; then they felt the full force of the wind, and stood aghast at the grim desolation spread beneath.
"Get to earth, lads, while we can use our hands," shouted Miller. "Once free, we'll speak a word or two as we move south. When we are down, each man must determine for himself his course of action. We can either follow the wall round to the main entrance and give ourselves up to the guard again, or we can turn our faces to the night and trust in God."
No man answered, but the living ladder was formed, and Knapps, taking a firm grip of the wall, lowered himself half over. Cuffee slipped down and held the sailor's ankles, and the others, one by one, thus lowered themselves to the ground. Then Knapps, hanging to the full extent of his reach, let go, and those on the ground stood by to break his fall.
Now, face to face with night and tempest, the character of each among that little throng appeared, stripped bare by circumstance.
Cuffee was the first to speak. He already wept and whined75, as the wind cut him to the bone, and the snow sweeping76 horizontally over the heath stung through his rags.
"For de lub ob Gard, sars, I'se go back afore I've froze into one lump ob black ice! Oh, gemmen, we run quick, else we nebber run no more!"
"The chances of life are small," said Miller, "and no man will think the worse of another if he turns to the gates. The storm promises to be terrific, and though we might have reached Lovey Lee's cottage in weather still and clear, 'tis but a forlorn hope now. We are to hold on until we strike young plantations77 of larch78 and beech79. These we leave on our left, and then keep south-east. 'Tis seeking a needle in a bottle of hay, and failure must mean death. Let no man start in ignorance."
"For God's sake be moving, sir," pleaded Burnham. "Whatever happens, we must get abreast80 of the main gates. Then those who will may go to the Moor. We shall freeze here while we stand. For my part I return. Life is sweet."
"An' me too," said Carberry. "I'm fearsome of this weather. My lungs will fail me in a mile. 'Tain't no manner of use killing81 myself for nought82. I wants ter see the gate again. T'other side the wall's only prison, but this side's death."
"I'se with you, Marse Burnham and Marse Carberry," chattered83 Cuffee. "My legs is gwine so funny, like as if dey belonged to some udder gemman."
"It's suicide, Stark," said Burnham, as they bent84 forward and followed the wall. The wind now shrieked85 past them, and the snow began to change its character. It had been very thick and heavy, and the Moor was already an inch deep under it; but the flakes ceased to fall, and dwindled86 into an icy dust that stabbed like a rain of needles. Darkness increased; only by the wall upon their right hands did they know their road.
"My cheek him froze hard!" cried the negro. "Oh, my poor mammy!"
Stark, with his head down, spoke to Miller.
"What do you do, sir?" he asked. "I'm going to make a fight for it; but dare you?"
"I'll come, lad, on one condition: that you do not stay a single step for me. 'Tis each for himself. My life matters to no man. And I take it into my hands with all reverence87 for the Giver. If I die, I die a free man."
"'Tis so with me," answered the younger; "none will mourn me, for sorrow of heirs is only laughter under a mask. But we'll win, not lose. And 'tis victory either way, whether we live or die."
There remained James Knapps, and now Stark asked him his purpose.
"Waal, I reyther guess I'll hold on," he answered. "I ain't frightened of snow and never stopped hum nights when I could go out. I was a trapper in the Rockies once. This weather is old company, and no man kin8 tell what's behind sich a smother88. Death or life, 'tis no great odds89 to me; so I'm for going ahead."
"I hope it don't displeasure you us turning back," panted Caleb Carberry to Stark; "but I'm very wishful ter get home again some day. I've got a wife and family in Vermont——"
"Then you'd be a knave90 to hold on," said the other. "I've got nothing in Vermont but a good solid chunk91 of the State itself. The beavers92 won't miss me, nor yet the maple93 trees, nor yet my cousins, I'll swear."
When the glare from a great lamp above the main entrance was seen across the snow, three men huddled94 together in an empty sentry-box near the gates, and three struck strongly forward into the south-east. They held a steady course, and walked in Indian file, with the storm on their left sides.
Sam Cuffee sobbed95 and screamed.
"Poor tings, dey got der marching orders! I nebber see Marse Stark any more. I wish I born dead!"
"Shut your mouth, you black scorpion," said Burnham savagely96. His heart was with his friends, and now he smarted to think that he had turned. If they lived, they would never respect him more. So he believed. He had always entertained a lively jealousy97 where Stark was concerned. He knew that his messmate was a better man than himself and, eaten by envy, could not pardon his superiority. Now in his heart there sprang a base and fleeting98 hope that Stark had departed to die.
"I'se no scorpion," answered Cuffee. "I'se only berry dam miserable99 nigger, sar."
"Be silent! Do you want the men in the guardhouse to hear us? We're to give Commodore Miller as much law as we dare without getting ourselves frostbitten. Then we can ring the bell and sneak100 back to kennel—like the hounds we are."
"To the cachot," said Carberry. "I kinder guess we'll sleep on granite101 to-night. Snow's softer and warmer, after all's said. But if we sleep here, you bet we shan't wake no more."
"They'll have a pretty down on us now," answered Burnham. "We were fools not to go and die with the others."
"De cachot—wid de snow coming in to bury us froo de naked windows! Oh, I wish I dead and in hell—it warm dar. I no care for twenty million debbils so long as dey take me into de warm place."
"You'll be warm enough to-morrow. They'll flog us for this when we refuse to say anything about the others," returned William Burnham.
"Flogging's better'n dying. Durn the silly monkeys—they might just as well have cut their throats as go," declared Carberry. "I dare say every doodle of 'em's dead by now. Miller's a loss to the country for sartain."
In silence they waited another minute; then Burnham addressed Sam Cuffee.
"Ring the great bell, nigger; I can't lift my hand to it."
Soon the three were back again within the prison walls, and as Carberry had expected, a cachot opened frozen jaws102 for them. Untold103 misery they endured, although a soldier at his own risk fetched them a bundle of straw to spread between their bodies and the stones. Commandant Cottrell himself directed the punishment.
"As for the others," he said, "we are well quit of the troublesome rascals104. They'll be out of further mischief105 before dawn. Nothing could live in this, for Satan and all his angels are loose to-night."
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1
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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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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circumvent
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| vt.环绕，包围；对…用计取胜，智胜 | |
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miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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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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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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misers
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| 守财奴，吝啬鬼( miser的名词复数 ) | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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thaw
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| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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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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azure
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| adj.天蓝色的，蔚蓝色的 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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heralded
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| v.预示( herald的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布（好或重要） | |
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blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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rations
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| 定量( ration的名词复数 )； 配给量； 正常量； 合理的量 | |
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woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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unnaturally
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| adv.违反习俗地；不自然地；勉强地；不近人情地 | |
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withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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45
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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rebuke
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| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
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47
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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49
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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50
onus
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| n.负担；责任 | |
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51
foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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52
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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53
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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54
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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58
fouled
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| v.使污秽( foul的过去式和过去分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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59
acrimonious
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| adj.严厉的，辛辣的，刻毒的 | |
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relaxations
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| n.消遣( relaxation的名词复数 )；松懈；松弛；放松 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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62
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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67
manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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75
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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83
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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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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85
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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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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knave
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| n.流氓；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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chunk
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| n.厚片，大块，相当大的部分（数量） | |
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92
beavers
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| 海狸( beaver的名词复数 )； 海狸皮毛； 棕灰色； 拼命工作的人 | |
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maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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95
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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99
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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100
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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101
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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102
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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103
untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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104
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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