"I shall, however, quickly overtake you," Mr. Malherb said to his men. "Travel by Sherberton; hold over Believer Tor; then pass under Dagger3 Farm and cross East Dart4 at the pack-horse bridge."
These things the labourers had done and now hesitated to proceed to Chagford without Maurice Malherb. They dismounted, therefore, by the old 'cyclopean' span that still crosses Dart at Postbridge, sheltered themselves and their steeds against the sting of the air and listened where Dart sang to the savage5 dawn. Young green things of the year shivered in the morning chill; nature still slept; the men got under a flaming brake of spring furze that made light in the grey; then, waiting there, they heard the clink of iron-shod feet on granite6 and knew that somebody was crossing the bridge. A heron floated upon broad wings down stream; and in the marshes7 at hand a cock curlew woke and uttered strange, bubbling cries of warning to his mate.
One tall, thin figure appeared upon the bridge, and Putt observed it.
"What a maypole!" he cried, "yet how a minces8 in his going for such a long-legged un!"
"I'll wager9 the man's up to no good at this hour. Us have both got hoss pistols: let's stop him! 'Twill warm us," exclaimed Bickford.
Thomas agreed, and together they leapt from their hiding-place and blocked the passage of the bridge. Then Putt, at close quarters, stared into the great white face frowning down upon him and nearly fell into the water.
"God's Word! 'Tis a ghost from the grave," he shouted. "'Tis the old varmint us buried after Christmas, come to life an' got into breeches!"
But Mark Bickford had no imagination.
"If she'm alive, us never buried her," he declared. "Cock your pistol an' hold it to her head."
"You stand still, Lovey Lee, an' give an account of yourself," commanded Putt. "Since you'm alive, I don't care a farden for you."
"That ban't my name," answered the ancient woman gruffly. "Stand by an' let me pass, or I'll knock 'e in the river, the pair of 'e!"
"Her can talk an' tell lies, so her's no more a ghost than us," said Bickford. "Now what be you doing here, an' where be you going, you bad old devil?"
Lovey drew herself up and regarded the two clowns with indignation. She felt it hard that at this critical moment of her life such rubbish should beard her thus. All had fallen out as she desired. Her wealth was secure. In her flat bosom10 she carried two thousand pounds of paper money provided by Peter Norcot; upon her back was a little box strapped11 tightly there. For the rest she bore a heavy stick and was now upon her way to Ashburton. Plans were completed for her escape. She would proceed to Dartmouth and thence to France.
Perceiving that she had been recognised, the miser13 attempted no further evasion15. These peasants must be bought and that instantly. Putt was angry with Lovey for the tricks that she had played on honest men; but Bickford appeared merely curious to learn her recent history.
"They wanted to hang you, and still want to," declared Tom. "But now the world thinks as master killed you."
"Let it go on thinking so," said Lovey. "What matter what the world thinks, my bold heroes, so long as you've got money in your purses? I be busy just now, so let me go my way, please, without more speech."
"A man's purse be his stronghold as you say," answered Bickford; "an' mine's nought17 better'n a shelled peascod this many days; but since there's twenty pound on your head, me an' Putt here will make ten apiece by you."
"Ten pound was offered, not twenty," answered Lovey.
"I say 'twas twenty."
"You'm a cruel devil to rob an old woman."
"'Tis the State will pay, not you," answered Bickford.
"An' you'm the cruel devil," retorted Putt—"you as have brought Malherb's head so low—to the grave a'most."
"Money's money," repeated Bickford, "an' if you've got any, Mother Lee, now be the time to spend some. Us know you'm made of it, for all your rags. What'll you pay us not to take you along to Prince Town?"
Lovey wrung18 her hands.
"You silly zanies—me—look at me—clad in a dead man's clothes! Money—a few poor pounds scraped together—God He knows how few. An' a long life of starvation to come by 'em."
"What's in thicky box?" asked Bickford abruptly19.
"Nought—a mere16 glass toy kept for old sake's sake. A thing not worth a rush but for memory. An' since you ax for money, I'll give 'e half I've got, though 'tis like giving 'e my life's blood—a five-pound note to share."
Her greed, even in this tremendous crisis, overreached her wit. A round sum had dazzled the labourers, and they had doubtless accepted it and let her depart, only to regret their conduct too late. But this miserly offer ruined Lovey Lee. Bickford was of a grasping nature also. Now greed met greed, and both man and woman were presently punished.
"'Tis much too little. Us want to see what be in that box slung20 so snug21 on your shoulder."
"An' see I will," added Tom Putt.
"My solemn word of honour, 'tis no more than a little trashy joney of glass—a keepsake of one long dead. Not worth a shilling to anybody but me. Leave that. Since five won't satisfy you I'll make it ten. Then I'm a ruined woman."
"Give me that box—else I'll take it," said Putt firmly.
"Not that, not that; if you'm a man, don't touch it. 'Tis everything to me, nought to nobody else. I was lying—I was lying to 'e. I be in such a hurry. I've got more than I said—just a few pounds. Fifty-fifty sovereigns in paper—twenty-five apiece to let me go my way."
"That's better," said Putt. "I'll close at that if you will, Mark."
"Not me—not now. Her's lying still. Us have got her, now us'll squeeze her. Us must see what's in that box—money or no money. I lay 'tis stuffed with diamonds."
"Oh, Christ!" cried the woman. "What 'tis to deal with two pig-headed fools! Here—here be a hundred pounds—take it and let me pass."
She turned from them, dived in her breast and flourished the notes before their faces.
"Pretty money seemingly, but not enough," said Bickford. "I lay there's thousands hid where your damned old heart beats. An' not a penny of it but what was stolen."
"An' I be more set than ever on seeing the inside of that there li'l box," added Putt stolidly22. "An' I be going to, or God's my judge, I'll take you to Prince Town, Lovey Lee."
The woman stared helplessly upon them.
"There ban't no law on your side," continued Putt calmly; "for you'm dead an' buried in Widecombe churchyard; and a human, once dead an' buried, have no more rights than a bird in a tree. So you'd best to open that box afore I take it away from 'e for good an' all."
Fire flashed in Lovey's eyes and her teeth closed like a trap. More than her life was now at stake; yet she stood powerless before this determined23 man.
"Will you swear to give it back to me, afore the God of Doom24?" she asked, drawing the box round from her shoulder.
"I'll swear to nought. If 'tis only a glass image, it be useless to any sensible chap, an' you can keep it. But if 'tis watches or gold trinkrums, then you've stole 'em, an' we'll take 'em for ourselves," declared Bickford.
"See for yourself, then, you cursed clods! An' come off this bridge. If it fell!"
The woman's anger died as she opened her box; her hands trembled; her man's hat had fallen off, and tattered25 wisps of white hair hung round her head. She sat down, cowered26 over the treasure, and revealed her sex in this attitude.
Lovey opened her box with utmost care, and from a close packing of sphagnum moss27, brought forth28 the Malherb amphora. Putt took it clumsily, and she screamed to him to be cautious. Bickford then examined the box, and reported that nothing more remained in it.
"Then give my poor vase back for the love of your mothers," she cried. "You see 'twas solemn truth I spoke29 to 'e."
"First, there's the matter of money," answered Bickford. "What money be you going to part with? You'm made of banknotes by the look of it. Maybe you'll never get the chance of setting up two young men in life again."
"If I could get my hands on your dog's throat!"
"You can't; an' best be civil, or you'll repent30 it," answered Bickford.
Then he took the amphora from Putt's hand, walked twenty yards away, and set it up carefully on a rock.
"You said fifty each," said Mark as he returned. "I lay you meant more." Then the labourer broke off and addressed his companion. "Ban't no sin to drag money out of this old mully-grubs; for you know so well as me that she never come by an honest penny in her life. Now I've slicked up her trash 'pon yonder rock, an' I be going to chuck stones at it till she comes to my figure; and sarve her damn well right, for she's bad to the bone—as all Dartymoor knows."
Lovey shrieked31 and Thomas Putt answered judicially—
"To terrify some money out of her be a fair thing. 'Tis payment for what master suffered."
The woman screamed and groaned32. She fell at their feet, clasped their knees, grovelled33, uttered blessings34 and cursings, raved36 until a steam hung over her lips in the chill air, called upon God and the devil to help her.
"What's the figure then?" asked Putt.
"Five hunderd—five hunderd pound this instant between you. For your sweethearts for——"
In answer, and before Putt, who was well satisfied, could stop him, Mark Bickford had flung a stone at the amphora. The pebble37 started to the right, came round true with the throw, and missed the precious vessel38 by inches. The woman followed the flight, and a lifetime of agony passed over her in the space of seconds. Then she turned upon Mark and poured forth a flood of appalling39 curses.
"Ban't five hunderd enough?" asked Thomas calmly.
"No, Tom, it ban't," answered the avaricious40 Bickford. "This here's the chance of a lifetime. Us'll be made men or mice, for evermore."
Putt picked up a stone.
"I do think she'm rich enough to part with a bit more," he said. "Now I be going to have a chuck, an' I'm a better shot than him, ban't I, Mark?"
"Yes, you be."
"Three hunderd—three hunderd—four hunderd—four hunderd for each of 'e. I'd tear my heart out for 'e if I could, you greedy, cruel dogs. Spare it, spare all that an old woman have got in the wide world. If you knew—if——"
Putt flung a stone and took care to do no harm. His missile fell into the river a yard wide. Then Bickford prepared to fling again.
"Third time be lucky," he said. "I'll bet you all the old bitch's money as I scat un to shivers now."
"Four fifty for each of 'e—four hunderd an' fifty each; an' it do leave me picked clean to the bone."
She plunged41 her hand into her breast and dragged out a pile of notes.
"Take it an' leave me to starve, you sarpints; you as rob widows' houses. Take it; an' may it turn to hell fire an' burn your entrails for everlasting42!"
"Four fifty's good enough for me," said Putt.
"Bah! you'm a fool," answered Bickford. "You don't know how to pick a nut when you've got one. Leave her to me. I say five hunderd apiece—that, or this stone goes."
"Before the eyes of Heaven, I haven't got it! Strip these dead man's rags off me; you'll find no more. 'Tis every farthing I have in the world—a long life's bitter earnings43!"
The labourer, with an eye upon her, drew his hand slowly back to throw again. For a second Lovey's fingers fluttered involuntarily towards her breast; and Mark Bickford saw and laughed in triumph.
"Ha, ha, ha! I knowed I was right. Yet I'll send it along; just to bring the old hell-cat to reason."
He flung again, without meaning to injure the amphora, but hit the rock on which it stood and missed the treasure by a hair's breadth. At the same moment Maurice Malherb's horse appeared round the rock, and the glancing stone very nearly struck Mr. Bickford's master.
"You vagabonds! What means——?" cried out Malherb.
Then he broke off and stared at an object near his elbow. There, under red dawnlight, glittered the Malherb amphora, and the frank yet lurid44 illumination awoke new beauties in that dazzling gem45. Each Cupid blushed with life as he peeped from the acanthus leaves. For a moment the master glared at his treasure while Bickford and Putt shivered. Then Lovey Lee, perceiving, indeed, that hope was dead, uttered a mournful howl. The sound wakened Malherb from his trance. He dismounted, picked up the amphora, and came forward.
"What man is that?" he asked; "and what are you knaves46 doing, loitering here?"
Then he approached Lovey, and knew her, and his servants saw him turn pale. He dropped back a pace and the amphora fell out of his hand—into soft heather where it took no hurt. A moment later his face turned cherry-red and his eyes rolled up. Putt rushed forward, but the danger passed and Malherb's brain resisted the shock.
"I must not rejoice too soon, or I may perish. And yet—speak. This is a woman—the woman of all women!"
"'Tis true, your honour's goodness. Lovey Lee, begging your pardon; her as you thought you'd properly knocked 'pon the head."
"An' she'm wrapped up in fifty-pound notes, your honour," said Bickford, "an' I hope your honour won't let her keep 'em from two honest men, for 'tis stolen money, an' her was going to——"
"Peace!" thundered Malherb. "Take yourselves and your buzzing behind me."
He had not removed his eyes from Lovey Lee's face. His mind and soul were there.
Now he approached her and spoke gently.
"Tell me," he said. "Let me hear your voice. Do not fear. Are you Lovey Lee—she whom I struck down and left for dead a thousand years ago on Cater's Beam?"
Lovey calculated the chances. She was broken now, for at last the Malherb amphora lay in the power of its rightful owner. Unconquerable hate gleamed in her eyes, but her voice sounded meek47 and mild.
"A cruel blow, Malherb, an' me so old. Yet I agged 'e to it. Forgive my evil tongue. I'm a woman still, for all my wickedness. I'll kneel to 'e; I'll pray to 'e; I'll lick thy boots. I've paid for my sins, God knows that; don't send me to the gallows48, after all these days."
"You are Lovey Lee?"
"Ess—that forlorn wretch49. Look!"
She pulled back her hair and he saw his handiwork.
"Forgive a coward's blow, woman."
"'Twas the hand of God, not yours," she answered. "When you cracked my head, you let a thousand devils out. I bless your name—even I——"
"This day is sacred for evermore," he said very slowly. "To many you have brought darkness and sorrow; to me you stand here now a messenger of light from Heaven—an angel of good tidings. Henceforth may your name be blessed. Alive and not dead!"
The labourers stared, and Lovey cast them a bitter glance that penetrated50 to their rude consciousness. Their hopes, at least, were shattered.
She pointed51 to the amphora, where it lay at Malherb's feet.
"They've stabbed me to the soul and taken half my remaining years from me. A moment more and it would have been splinters in the river—my life and my heart's blood."
Maurice Malherb stared at the glass bubble. To him it was an atom of inconceivable insignificance52 in the face of this stupendous discovery that Lovey lived.
"Her snake's life be wrapped up in that toy, your honour," said Bickford, "an' I'll swear to God she said it weren't of no account to anybody but her."
"'Twas true. If you'd cracked it, my life would have cracked with it. But now—'tis mine no more. My light's out; my thread's spun53. I only ax that I may hold it in this old hand once again; then I'll give it to 'e, an' vanish out of man's sight for ever."
This she said meaning to destroy the vase, to dash it into a thousand fragments at Malherb's feet and take the consequences. He did not guess at her malignant54 purpose. Her harsh, high voice was now the music of Heaven to his ear; the lizard55 life in her wrinkled carcase oozed56 like balm upon his sight and made him young. He feasted his senses upon her, even while he doubted his senses; and in spirit uttered a petition to his Maker57 that this might be no dream.
"Touch me, Lovey Lee," he commanded. "Hold my hand in yours, press upon it. I must feel your flesh warm; I must put my finger upon your pulse that I may know your heart is beating. You have risen from the dead and lifted me from worse than death. Give me your hand."
She held out to him her gnarled, huge paw. It was wrinkled and bony; each great artery58 ran like a blue cord under the brown skin; each black nail was sharp as an eagle's claw.
"Heed59 your going," she said, "else that treasure there will fall under your heel—the amphora."
He saw her eyes burning upon it, and a sudden, mad, Malherb impulse took him.
"You have given me my life once more, shall I rob you of yours again? No! Take up that trash and begone. Bear witness she lives, you men. Now depart, and let that glass—priceless as the world goes—be my payment to you. 'Tis little enough for what I gain this day—light, air, life, Heaven, the right to walk the earth and to look the world in the face. An innocent man! Oh, God of Mercy, I thank Thee!"
With a strange cry, as of some mother-beast that recovers her lost young, the ancient creature fell upon her treasure, hid it away quickly and disappeared, like a shadow, behind the mist. Not a word she spoke of thanks nor of blessing35; but she gathered up the amphora and melted away into the morning air, like some fantastic exhalation of dawn that vanishes at sunrise.
Neither did Malherb speak again. He mounted his horse, watched Lovey depart, and then, forgetting, as it seemed, the men behind him, galloped60 fast upon his way. Exultation61 marked his movements. His attitude was of a boy that rode to hounds, liven the gravity of the present enterprise was for a time powerless to make him grave.
The men behind him felt that their master was struggling with a full heart. They knew that had he been alone, Malherb had shouted to the sun and wakened the echoes of the ancient hills with thanksgivings. The nature of his joy they failed signally to apprehend62. As for Bickford and Putt, their own state was the reverse of gracious.
"I can't go so fast," said Mark to Tom. "Us have made damned fools of ourselves to-day—got within reach of hundreds and missed 'em. I could tear my hair off. Blast the old witch!"
"'Tis fair payment for being so beastly greedy," answered Putt. "All your fault. If you'd took what she offered last, you'd have had it in your pocket now, instead of nought. Sarve you right."
"I ban't much in a mind to sit down under it, however," growled63 Bickford.
"No more be I, for that matter—only just let me think a minute."
After riding forward another hundred yards Mr. Putt stopped suddenly.
"My hoss have fallen lame," he said.
"Not she," answered Bickford. "Her goeth well as ever."
"I say she's lame," retorted the other. "Get you after master, best pace you can. I'll come presently. There's a stone in the mare's hoof64."
Bickford's slow brains now perceived his friend's drift.
"You'll get the sack for it," he said, looking back into the valley where Lovey Lee had disappeared.
"No great matter if I did; but I shan't. When the man comes to his senses—why, that's the blessed jug65 all the fuss was about! 'Tis worth thousands of pounds."
"Halves wi' me," said Bickford.
"Shares, perhaps," answered Putt. "I ban't going to say 'halves'; I've growed rather sick of you since the morning."
In a moment Thomas turned on his tracks and Mark Bickford hastened after his master. Malherb never looked back, and the riders were already upon the high ground above Chagford and just about to enter that lane, where, two hours earlier, John Lee had met with Peter Norcot, when Bickford heard a galloping66 horse and saw that Putt was returning. At sight of Tom's countenance67 even his phlegmatic68 companion was staggered, for Putt presented a dismal69 and hideous70 spectacle. His breast was soaked with blood and four deep parallel gashes71 between white weals scored his face from brow to chin. His pink-rimmed eyes were bulging72 and one of his ears had swollen73 to ridiculous dimensions. But upon his back was a box that contained the Malherb amphora.
"Aw jimmery! you've got it!" cried Mark. "But, 'slife! she've torn your eyes out of your head!"
"Her tried to. I've fought a cargo74 of mountain cats. God knows how I've come out alive. But I didn't fire—not a shot; though sore tempted14. I didn't kill her; she've done for herself. I catched her down nigh Drury Farm, and went for her without words. She seed my meaning in a flash. Curse! Never I heard such a hail of gashly curses; an' she come at me all ends up like a bulldog. Her nails was in my eyes afore I could draw breath; but I kept my seat while she tore an' scratched, an' grabbed the box; an' by good chance the strap12 gived way. Then she ran fifty yards after my hoss; an' then she knowed 'twas all up wi' her, an' stopped. 'Twas awful what comed after. Her heart cracked. I heard a sound like a woodpecker tapping, an' looked, an' seed her beating her head in with a gert stone. But she couldn't die that way, so she went to a rock an' flinged herself against it skull75 first, like a ram76 butting77. An' then she rolled over, over an' over into the river. God's my judge I'd have saved her if it had been any other mortal she!"
"All that pile of paper money?"
"'Twas nought to her, after the vase was gone."
"All that good money!"
"Pulp78 by now. She'm dead this time, anyway, if she'm flesh and blood."
"I wish you'd took the money, all the same."
"You can go to hell an' ax her for the money," said Putt indignantly. "I've got this here thing for master—not you. You'm a miserly hunks, an' I hope you won't be a penny the better by this job, for you don't desarve to be."
As he spoke the men drew up to their leader, and all three riders trotted79 slowly down the steep lane which led into Chagford.
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1
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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gash
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| v.深切，划开；n.(深长的)切(伤)口；裂缝 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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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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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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marshes
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| n.沼泽，湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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minces
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| v.切碎( mince的第三人称单数 )；剁碎；绞碎；用绞肉机绞（食物，尤指肉） | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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evasion
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| n.逃避，偷漏(税) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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stolidly
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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tattered
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| adj.破旧的，衣衫破的 | |
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cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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repent
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| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
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31
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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grovelled
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| v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的过去式和过去分词 )；趴 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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pebble
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| n.卵石，小圆石 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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avaricious
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| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
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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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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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knaves
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| n.恶棍，无赖( knave的名词复数 )；（纸牌中的）杰克 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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lizard
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| n.蜥蜴，壁虎 | |
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oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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artery
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| n.干线，要道；动脉 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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galloped
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| （使马）飞奔，奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 )； 快速做[说]某事 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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apprehend
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| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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hoof
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| n.(马，牛等的)蹄 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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gashes
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| n.深长的切口（或伤口）( gash的名词复数 )v.划伤，割破( gash的第三人称单数 ) | |
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bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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butting
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| 用头撞人（犯规动作） | |
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pulp
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| n.果肉，纸浆；v.化成纸浆，除去...果肉，制成纸浆 | |
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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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