Paris has its night as well as its day life, and the sojourner1 who enters his hotel in the Rue2 de Rivoli or the Rue St. Honore late at night or leaves it early in the morning, can guess, in coming near Montrouge—if he has not done so already—the purpose of those great waggons3 that look like boilers4 on wheels which he finds halting everywhere as he passes.
Every city has its peculiar5 institutions created out of its own needs; and one of the most notable institutions of Paris is its rag-picking population. In the early morning—and Parisian life commences at an early hour—may be seen in most streets standing6 on the pathway opposite every court and alley7 and between every few houses, as still in some American cities, even in parts of New York, large wooden boxes into which the domestics or tenement-holders empty the accumulated dust of the past day. Round these boxes gather and pass on, when the work is done, to fresh fields of labour and pastures new, squalid hungry-looking men and women, the implements8 of whose craft consist of a coarse bag or basket slung11 over the shoulder and a little rake with which they turn over and probe and examine in the minutest manner the dustbins. They pick up and deposit in their baskets, by aid of their rakes, whatever they may find, with the same facility as a Chinaman uses his chopsticks.
Paris is a city of centralisation—and centralisation and classification are closely allied12. In the early times, when centralisation is becoming a fact, its forerunner13 is classification. All things which are similar or analogous14 become grouped together, and from the grouping of groups rises one whole or central point. We see radiating many long arms with innumerable tentaculae, and in the centre rises a gigantic head with a comprehensive brain and keen eyes to look on every side and ears sensitive to hear—and a voracious15 mouth to swallow.
Other cities resemble all the birds and beasts and fishes whose appetites and digestions16 are normal. Paris alone is the analogical apotheosis17 of the octopus18. Product of centralisation carried to an ad absurdum, it fairly represents the devil fish; and in no respects is the resemblance more curious than in the similarity of the digestive apparatus19.
Those intelligent tourists who, having surrendered their individuality into the hands of Messrs. Cook or Gaze, 'do' Paris in three days, are often puzzled to know how it is that the dinner which in London would cost about six shillings, can be had for three francs in a café in the Palais Royal. They need have no more wonder if they will but consider the classification which is a theoretic speciality of Parisian life, and adopt all round the fact from which the chiffonier has his genesis.
The Paris of 1850 was not like the Paris of to-day, and those who see the Paris of Napoleon and Baron20 Hausseman can hardly realise the existence of the state of things forty-five years ago.
Amongst other things, however, which have not changed are those districts where the waste is gathered. Dust is dust all the world over, in every age, and the family likeness21 of dust-heaps is perfect. The traveller, therefore, who visits the environs of Montrouge can go go back in fancy without difficulty to the year 1850.
In this year I was making a prolonged stay in Paris. I was very much in love with a young lady who, though she returned my passion, so far yielded to the wishes of her parents that she had promised not to see me or to correspond with me for a year. I, too, had been compelled to accede22 to these conditions under a vague hope of parental23 approval. During the term of probation24 I had promised to remain out of the country and not to write to my dear one until the expiration25 of the year.
Naturally the time went heavily with me. There was not one of my own family or circle who could tell me of Alice, and none of her own folk had, I am sorry to say, sufficient generosity26 to send me even an occasional word of comfort regarding her health and well-being27. I spent six months wandering about Europe, but as I could find no satisfactory distraction28 in travel, I determined29 to come to Paris, where, at least, I would be within easy hail of London in case any good fortune should call me thither30 before the appointed time. That 'hope deferred32 maketh the heart sick' was never better exemplified than in my case, for in addition to the perpetual longing33 to see the face I loved there was always with me a harrowing anxiety lest some accident should prevent me showing Alice in due time that I had, throughout the long period of probation, been faithful to her trust and my own love. Thus, every adventure which I undertook had a fierce pleasure of its own, for it was fraught35 with possible consequences greater than it would have ordinarily borne.
Like all travellers I exhausted36 the places of most interest in the first month of my stay, and was driven in the second month to look for amusement whithersoever I might. Having made sundry37 journeys to the better-known suburbs, I began to see that there was a terra incognita, in so far as the guide book was concerned, in the social wilderness38 lying between these attractive points. Accordingly I began to systematise my researches, and each day took up the thread of my exploration at the place where I had on the previous day dropped it.
In the process of time my wanderings led me near Montrouge, and I saw that hereabouts lay the Ultima Thule of social exploration—a country as little known as that round the source of the White Nile. And so I determined to investigate philosophically39 the chiffonier—his habitat, his life, and his means of life.
The job was an unsavoury one, difficult of accomplishment40, and with little hope of adequate reward. However, despite reason, obstinacy41 prevailed, and I entered into my new investigation42 with a keener energy than I could have summoned to aid me in any investigation leading to any end, valuable or worthy43.
One day, late in a fine afternoon, toward the end of September, I entered the holy of holies of the city of dust. The place was evidently the recognised abode44 of a number of chiffoniers, for some sort of arrangement was manifested in the formation of the dust heaps near the road. I passed amongst these heaps, which stood like orderly sentries45, determined to penetrate46 further and trace dust to its ultimate location.
As I passed along I saw behind the dust heaps a few forms that flitted to and fro, evidently watching with interest the advent34 of any stranger to such a place. The district was like a small Switzerland, and as I went forward my tortuous47 course shut out the path behind me.
Presently I got into what seemed a small city or community of chiffoniers. There were a number of shanties48 or huts, such as may be met with in the remote parts of the Bog49 of Allan—rude places with wattled walls, plastered with mud and roofs of rude thatch50 made from stable refuse—such places as one would not like to enter for any consideration, and which even in water-colour could only look picturesque51 if judiciously52 treated. In the midst of these huts was one of the strangest adaptations—I cannot say habitations—I had ever seen. An immense old wardrobe, the colossal53 remnant of some boudoir of Charles VII, or Henry II, had been converted into a dwelling-house. The double doors lay open, so that the entire ménage was open to public view. In the open half of the wardrobe was a common sitting-room54 of some four feet by six, in which sat, smoking their pipes round a charcoal55 brazier, no fewer than six old soldiers of the First Republic, with their uniforms torn and worn threadbare. Evidently they were of the mauvais sujet class; their bleary eyes and limp jaws56 told plainly of a common love of absinthe; and their eyes had that haggard, worn look of slumbering57 ferocity which follows hard in the wake of drink. The other side stood as of old, with its shelves intact, save that they were cut to half their depth, and in each shelf of which there were six, was a bed made with rags and straw. The half-dozen of worthies59 who inhabited this structure looked at me curiously60 as I passed; and when I looked back after going a little way I saw their heads together in a whispered conference. I did not like the look of this at all, for the place was very lonely, and the men looked very, very villainous. However, I did not see any cause for fear, and went on my way, penetrating61 further and further into the Sahara. The way was tortuous to a degree, and from going round in a series of semi-circles, as one goes in skating with the Dutch roll, I got rather confused with regard to the points of the compass.
When I had penetrated62 a little way I saw, as I turned the corner of a half-made heap, sitting on a heap of straw an old soldier with threadbare coat.
'Hallo!' said I to myself; 'the First Republic is well represented here in its soldiery.'
As I passed him the old man never even looked up at me, but gazed on the ground with stolid63 persistency64. Again I remarked to myself: 'See what a life of rude warfare65 can do! This old man's curiosity is a thing of the past.'
When I had gone a few steps, however, I looked back suddenly, and saw that curiosity was not dead, for the veteran had raised his head and was regarding me with a very queer expression. He seemed to me to look very like one of the six worthies in the press. When he saw me looking he dropped his head; and without thinking further of him I went on my way, satisfied that there was a strange likeness between these old warriors66.
Presently I met another old soldier in a similar manner. He, too, did not notice me whilst I was passing.
By this time it was getting late in the afternoon, and I began to think of retracing67 my steps. Accordingly I turned to go back, but could see a number of tracks leading between different mounds68 and could not ascertain70 which of them I should take. In my perplexity I wanted to see someone of whom to ask the way, but could see no one. I determined to go on a few mounds further and so try to see someone—not a veteran.
I gained my object, for after going a couple of hundred yards I saw before me a single shanty71 such as I had seen before—with, however, the difference that this was not one for living in, but merely a roof with three walls open in front. From the evidences which the neighbourhood exhibited I took it to be a place for sorting. Within it was an old woman wrinkled and bent72 with age; I approached her to ask the way.
She rose as I came close and I asked her my way. She immediately commenced a conversation; and it occurred to me that here in the very centre of the Kingdom of Dust was the place to gather details of the history of Parisian rag-picking—particularly as I could do so from the lips of one who looked like the oldest inhabitant.
I began my inquiries73, and the old woman gave me most interesting answers—she had been one of the ceteuces who sat daily before the guillotine and had taken an active part among the women who signalised themselves by their violence in the revolution. While we were talking she said suddenly: 'But m'sieur must be tired standing,' and dusted a rickety old stool for me to sit down. I hardly liked to do so for many reasons; but the poor old woman was so civil that I did not like to run the risk of hurting her by refusing, and moreover the conversation of one who had been at the taking of the Bastille was so interesting that I sat down and so our conversation went on.
While we were talking an old man—older and more bent and wrinkled even than the woman—appeared from behind the shanty. 'Here is Pierre,' said she. 'M'sieur can hear stories now if he wishes, for Pierre was in everything, from the Bastille to Waterloo.' The old man took another stool at my request and we plunged74 into a sea of revolutionary reminiscences. This old man, albeit75 clothed like a scarecrow, was like any one of the six veterans.
I was now sitting in the centre of the low hut with the woman on my left hand and the man on my right, each of them being somewhat in front of me. The place was full of all sorts of curious objects of lumber58, and of many things that I wished far away. In one corner was a heap of rags which seemed to move from the number of vermin it contained, and in the other a heap of bones whose odour was something shocking. Every now and then, glancing at the heaps, I could see the gleaming eyes of some of the rats which infested76 the place. These loathsome77 objects were bad enough, but what looked even more dreadful was an old butcher's axe79 with an iron handle stained with clots80 of blood leaning up against the wall on the right hand side. Still, these things did not give me much concern. The talk of the two old people was so fascinating that I stayed on and on, till the evening came and the dust heaps threw dark shadows over the vales between them.
After a time I began to grow uneasy. I could not tell how or why, but somehow I did not feel satisfied. Uneasiness is an instinct and means warning. The psychic81 faculties82 are often the sentries of the intellect, and when they sound alarm the reason begins to act, although perhaps not consciously.
This was so with me. I began to bethink me where I was and by what surrounded, and to wonder how I should fare in case I should be attacked; and then the thought suddenly burst upon me, although without any overt83 cause, that I was in danger. Prudence84 whispered: 'Be still and make no sign,' and so I was still and made no sign, for I knew that four cunning eyes were on me. 'Four eyes—if not more.' My God, what a horrible thought! The whole shanty might be surrounded on three sides with villains85! I might be in the midst of a band of such desperadoes as only half a century of periodic revolution can produce.
With a sense of danger my intellect and observation quickened, and I grew more watchful86 than was my wont87. I noticed that the old woman's eyes were constantly wandering towards my hands. I looked at them too, and saw the cause—my rings. On my left little finger I had a large signet and on the right a good diamond.
I thought that if there was any danger my first care was to avert88 suspicion. Accordingly I began to work the conversation round to rag-picking—to the drains—of the things found there; and so by easy stages to jewels. Then, seizing a favourable89 opportunity, I asked the old woman if she knew anything of such things. She answered that she did, a little. I held out my right hand, and, showing her the diamond, asked her what she thought of that. She answered that her eyes were bad, and stooped over my hand. I said as nonchalantly as I could: 'Pardon me! You will see better thus!' and taking it off handed it to her. An unholy light came into her withered90 old face, as she touched it. She stole one glance at me swift and keen as a flash of lightning.
She bent over the ring for a moment, her face quite concealed91 as though examining it. The old man looked straight out of the front of the shanty before him, at the same time fumbling92 in his pockets and producing a screw of tobacco in a paper and a pipe, which he proceeded to fill. I took advantage of the pause and the momentary93 rest from the searching eyes on my face to look carefully round the place, now dim and shadowy in the gloaming. There still lay all the heaps of varied94 reeking95 foulness97; there the terrible blood-stained axe leaning against the wall in the right hand corner, and everywhere, despite the gloom, the baleful glitter of the eyes of the rats. I could see them even through some of the chinks of the boards at the back low down close to the ground. But stay! these latter eyes seemed more than usually large and bright and baleful!
For an instant my heart stood still, and I felt in that whirling condition of mind in which one feels a sort of spiritual drunkenness, and as though the body is only maintained erect98 in that there is no time for it to fall before recovery. Then, in another second, I was calm—coldly calm, with all my energies in full vigour99, with a self-control which I felt to be perfect and with all my feeling and instincts alert.
Now I knew the full extent of my danger: I was watched and surrounded by desperate people! I could not even guess at how many of them were lying there on the ground behind the shanty, waiting for the moment to strike. I knew that I was big and strong, and they knew it, too. They knew also, as I did, that I was an Englishman and would make a fight for it; and so we waited. I had, I felt, gained an advantage in the last few seconds, for I knew my danger and understood the situation. Now, I thought, is the test of my courage—the enduring test: the fighting test may come later!
The old woman raised her head and said to me in a satisfied kind of way:
'A very fine ring, indeed—a beautiful ring! Oh, me! I once had such rings, plenty of them, and bracelets100 and earrings101! Oh! for in those fine days I led the town a dance! But they've forgotten me now! They've forgotten me! They? Why they never heard of me! Perhaps their grandfathers remember me, some of them!' and she laughed a harsh, croaking102 laugh. And then I am bound to say that she astonished me, for she handed me back the ring with a certain suggestion of old-fashioned grace which was not without its pathos103.
The old man eyed her with a sort of sudden ferocity, half rising from his stool, and said to me suddenly and hoarsely104:
'Let me see!'
I was about to hand the ring when the old woman said:
'No! no, do not give it to Pierre! Pierre is eccentric. He loses things; and such a pretty ring!'
'Cat!' said the old man, savagely105. Suddenly the old woman said, rather more loudly than was necessary:
'Wait! I shall tell you something about a ring.' There was something in the sound of her voice that jarred upon me. Perhaps it was my hyper-sensitiveness, wrought106 up as I was to such a pitch of nervous excitement, but I seemed to think that she was not addressing me. As I stole a glance round the place I saw the eyes of the rats in the bone heaps, but missed the eyes along the back. But even as I looked I saw them again appear. The old woman's 'Wait!' had given me a respite107 from attack, and the men had sunk back to their reclining posture108.
'I once lost a ring—a beautiful diamond hoop109 that had belonged to a queen, and which was given to me by a farmer of the taxes, who afterwards cut his throat because I sent him away. I thought it must have been stolen, and taxed my people; but I could get no trace. The police came and suggested that it had found its way to the drain. We descended—I in my fine clothes, for I would not trust them with my beautiful ring! I know more of the drains since then, and of rats, too! but I shall never forget the horror of that place—alive with blazing eyes, a wall of them just outside the light of our torches. Well, we got beneath my house. We searched the outlet110 of the drain, and there in the filth111 found my ring, and we came out.
'But we found something else also before we came! As we were coming toward the opening a lot of sewer112 rats—human ones this time—came towards us. They told the police that one of their number had gone into the drain, but had not returned. He had gone in only shortly before we had, and, if lost, could hardly be far off. They asked help to seek him, so we turned back. They tried to prevent me going, but I insisted. It was a new excitement, and had I not recovered my ring? Not far did we go till we came on something. There was but little water, and the bottom of the drain was raised with brick, rubbish, and much matter of the kind. He had made a fight for it, even when his torch had gone out. But they were too many for him! They had not been long about it! The bones were still warm; but they were picked clean. They had even eaten their own dead ones and there were bones of rats as well as of the man. They took it cool enough those other—the human ones—and joked of their comrade when they found him dead, though they would have helped him living. Bah! what matters it—life or death?'
'And had you no fear?' I asked her.
'Fear!' she said with a laugh. 'Me have fear? Ask Pierre! But I was younger then, and, as I came through that horrible drain with its wall of greedy eyes, always moving with the circle of the light from the torches, I did not feel easy. I kept on before the men, though! It is a way I have! I never let the men get it before me. All I want is a chance and a means! And they ate him up—took every trace away except the bones; and no one knew it, nor no sound of him was ever heard!' Here she broke into a chuckling113 fit of the ghastliest merriment which it was ever my lot to hear and see. A great poetess describes her heroine singing: 'Oh! to see or hear her singing! Scarce I know which is the divinest.'
And I can apply the same idea to the old crone—in all save the divinity, for I scarce could tell which was the most hellish—the harsh, malicious114, satisfied, cruel laugh, or the leering grin, and the horrible square opening of the mouth like a tragic115 mask, and the yellow gleam of the few discoloured teeth in the shapeless gums. In that laugh and with that grin and the chuckling satisfaction I knew as well as if it had been spoken to me in words of thunder that my murder was settled, and the murderers only bided118 the proper time for its accomplishment. I could read between the lines of her gruesome story the commands to her accomplices119. 'Wait,' she seemed to say, 'bide117 your time. I shall strike the first blow. Find the weapon for me, and I shall make the opportunity! He shall not escape! Keep him quiet, and then no one will be wiser. There will be no outcry, and the rats will do their work!'
It was growing darker and darker; the night was coming. I stole a glance round the shanty, still all the same! The bloody120 axe in the corner, the heaps of filth, and the eyes on the bone heaps and in the crannies of the floor.
Pierre had been still ostensibly filling his pipe; he now struck a light and began to puff121 away at it. The old woman said:
'Dear heart, how dark it is! Pierre, like a good lad, light the lamp!'
Pierre got up and with the lighted match in his hand touched the wick of a lamp which hung at one side of the entrance to the shanty, and which had a reflector that threw the light all over the place. It was evidently that which was used for their sorting at night.
'Not that, stupid! Not that! the lantern!' she called out to him.
He immediately blew it out, saying: 'All right, mother I'll find it,' and he hustled122 about the left corner of the room—the old woman saying through the darkness:
'The lantern! the lantern! Oh! That is the light that is most useful to us poor folks. The lantern was the friend of the revolution! It is the friend of the chiffonier! It helps us when all else fails.'
Hardly had she said the word when there was a kind of creaking of the whole place, and something was steadily123 dragged over the roof.
Again I seemed to read between the lines of her words. I knew the lesson of the lantern.
'One of you get on the roof with a noose125 and strangle him as he passes out if we fail within.'
As I looked out of the opening I saw the loop of a rope outlined black against the lurid126 sky. I was now, indeed, beset127!
Pierre was not long in finding the lantern. I kept my eyes fixed128 through the darkness on the old woman. Pierre struck his light, and by its flash I saw the old woman raise from the ground beside her where it had mysteriously appeared, and then hide in the folds of her gown, a long sharp knife or dagger129. It seemed to be like a butcher's sharpening iron fined to a keen point.
The lantern was lit.
'Bring it here, Pierre,' she said. 'Place it in the doorway130 where we can see it. See how nice it is! It shuts out the darkness from us; it is just right!'
Just right for her and her purposes! It threw all its light on my face, leaving in gloom the faces of both Pierre and the woman, who sat outside of me on each side.
I felt that the time of action was approaching, but I knew now that the first signal and movement would come from the woman, and so watched her.
I was all unarmed, but I had made up my mind what to do. At the first movement I would seize the butcher's axe in the right-hand corner and fight my way out. At least, I would die hard. I stole a glance round to fix its exact locality so that I could not fail to seize it at the first effort, for then, if ever, time and accuracy would be precious.
Good God! It was gone! All the horror of the situation burst upon me; but the bitterest thought of all was that if the issue of the terrible position should be against me Alice would infallibly suffer. Either she would believe me false—and any lover, or any one who has ever been one, can imagine the bitterness of the thought—or else she would go on loving long after I had been lost to her and to the world, so that her life would be broken and embittered131, shattered with disappointment and despair. The very magnitude of the pain braced132 me up and nerved me to bear the dread78 scrutiny133 of the plotters.
I think I did not betray myself. The old woman was watching me as a cat does a mouse; she had her right hand hidden in the folds of her gown, clutching, I knew, that long, cruel-looking dagger. Had she seen any disappointment in my face she would, I felt, have known that the moment had come, and would have sprung on me like a tigress, certain of taking me unprepared.
I looked out into the night, and there I saw new cause for danger. Before and around the hut were at a little distance some shadowy forms; they were quite still, but I knew that they were all alert and on guard. Small chance for me now in that direction.
Again I stole a glance round the place. In moments of great excitement and of great danger, which is excitement, the mind works very quickly, and the keenness of the faculties which depend on the mind grows in proportion. I now felt this. In an instant I took in the whole situation. I saw that the axe had been taken through a small hole made in one of the rotten boards. How rotten they must be to allow of such a thing being done without a particle of noise.
The hut was a regular murder-trap, and was guarded all around. A garroter lay on the roof ready to entangle134 me with his noose if I should escape the dagger of the old hag. In front the way was guarded by I know not how many watchers. And at the back was a row of desperate men—I had seen their eyes still through the crack in the boards of the floor, when last I looked—as they lay prone135 waiting for the signal to start erect. If it was to be ever, now for it!
As nonchalantly as I could I turned slightly on my stool so as to get my right leg well under me. Then with a sudden jump, turning my head, and guarding it with my hands, and with the fighting instinct of the knights136 of old, I breathed my lady's name, and hurled137 myself against the back wall of the hut.
Watchful as they were, the suddenness of my movement surprised both Pierre and the old woman. As I crashed through the rotten timbers I saw the old woman rise with a leap like a tiger and heard her low gasp138 of baffled rage. My feet lit on something that moved, and as I jumped away I knew that I had stepped on the back of one of the row of men lying on their faces outside the hut. I was torn with nails and splinters, but otherwise unhurt. Breathless I rushed up the mound69 in front of me, hearing as I went the dull crash of the shanty as it collapsed139 into a mass.
It was a nightmare climb. The mound, though but low, was awfully140 steep, and with each step I took the mass of dust and cinders141 tore down with me and gave way under my feet. The dust rose and choked me; it was sickening, f?tid, awful; but my climb was, I felt, for life or death, and I struggled on. The seconds seemed hours; but the few moments I had in starting, combined with my youth and strength, gave me a great advantage, and, though several forms struggled after me in deadly silence which was more dreadful than any sound, I easily reached the top. Since then I have climbed the cone142 of Vesuvius, and as I struggled up that dreary143 steep amid the sulphurous fumes144 the memory of that awful night at Montrouge came back to me so vividly145 that I almost grew faint.
The mound was one of the tallest in the region of dust, and as I struggled to the top, panting for breath and with my heart beating like a sledge-hammer, I saw away to my left the dull red gleam of the sky, and nearer still the flashing of lights. Thank God! I knew where I was now and where lay the road to Paris!
For two or three seconds I paused and looked back. My pursuers were still well behind me, but struggling up resolutely146, and in deadly silence. Beyond, the shanty was a wreck147—a mass of timber and moving forms. I could see it well, for flames were already bursting out; the rags and straw had evidently caught fire from the lantern. Still silence there! Not a sound! These old wretches148 could die game, anyhow.
I had no time for more than a passing glance, for as I cast an eye round the mound preparatory to making my descent I saw several dark forms rushing round on either side to cut me off on my way. It was now a race for life. They were trying to head me on my way to Paris, and with the instinct of the moment I dashed down to the right-hand side. I was just in time, for, though I came as it seemed to me down the steep in a few steps, the wary149 old men who were watching me turned back, and one, as I rushed by into the opening between the two mounds in front, almost struck me a blow with that terrible butcher's axe. There could surely not be two such weapons about!
Then began a really horrible chase. I easily ran ahead of the old men, and even when some younger ones and a few women joined in the hunt I easily distanced them. But I did not know the way, and I could not even guide myself by the light in the sky, for I was running away from it. I had heard that, unless of conscious purpose, hunted men turn always to the left, and so I found it now; and so, I suppose, knew also my pursuers, who were more animals than men, and with cunning or instinct had found out such secrets for themselves: for on finishing a quick spurt150, after which I intended to take a moment's breathing space, I suddenly saw ahead of me two or three forms swiftly passing behind a mound to the right.
I was in the spider's web now indeed! But with the thought of this new danger came the resource of the hunted, and so I darted152 down the next turning to the right. I continued in this direction for some hundred yards, and then, making a turn to the left again, felt certain that I had, at any rate, avoided the danger of being surrounded.
But not of pursuit, for on came the rabble153 after me, steady, dogged, relentless154, and still in grim silence.
In the greater darkness the mounds seemed now to be somewhat smaller than before, although—for the night was closing—they looked bigger in proportion. I was now well ahead of my pursuers, so I made a dart151 up the mound in front.
Oh joy of joys! I was close to the edge of this inferno155 of dustheaps. Away behind me the red light of Paris was in the sky, and towering up behind rose the heights of Montmarte—a dim light, with here and there brilliant points like stars.
Restored to vigour in a moment, I ran over the few remaining mounds of decreasing size, and found myself on the level land beyond. Even then, however, the prospect156 was not inviting157. All before me was dark and dismal158, and I had evidently come on one of those dank, low-lying waste places which are found here and there in the neighbourhood of great cities. Places of waste and desolation, where the space is required for the ultimate agglomeration159 of all that is noxious160, and the ground is so poor as to create no desire of occupancy even in the lowest squatter161. With eyes accustomed to the gloom of the evening, and away now from the shadows of those dreadful dustheaps, I could see much more easily than I could a little while ago. It might have been, of course, that the glare in the sky of the lights of Paris, though the city was some miles away, was reflected here. Howsoever it was, I saw well enough to take bearings for certainly some little distance around me.
In front was a bleak162, flat waste that seemed almost dead level, with here and there the dark shimmering163 of stagnant164 pools. Seemingly far off on the right, amid a small cluster of scattered165 lights, rose a dark mass of Fort Montrouge, and away to the left in the dim distance, pointed31 with stray gleams from cottage windows, the lights in the sky showed the locality of Bicêtre. A moment's thought decided166 me to take to the right and try to reach Montrouge. There at least would be some sort of safety, and I might possibly long before come on some of the cross roads which I knew. Somewhere, not far off, must lie the strategic road made to connect the outlying chain of forts circling the city.
Then I looked back. Coming over the mounds, and outlined black against the glare of the Parisian horizon, I saw several moving figures, and still a way to the right several more deploying167 out between me and my destination. They evidently meant to cut me off in this direction, and so my choice became constricted168; it lay now between going straight ahead or turning to the left. Stooping to the ground, so as to get the advantage of the horizon as a line of sight, I looked carefully in this direction, but could detect no sign of my enemies. I argued that as they had not guarded or were not trying to guard that point, there was evidently danger to me there already. So I made up my mind to go straight on before me.
It was not an inviting prospect, and as I went on the reality grew worse. The ground became soft and oozy169, and now and again gave way beneath me in a sickening kind of way. I seemed somehow to be going down, for I saw round me places seemingly more elevated than where I was, and this in a place which from a little way back seemed dead level. I looked around, but could see none of my pursuers. This was strange, for all along these birds of the night had followed me through the darkness as well as though it was broad daylight. How I blamed myself for coming out in my light-coloured tourist suit of tweed. The silence, and my not being able to see my enemies, whilst I felt that they were watching me, grew appalling170, and in the hope of some one not of this ghastly crew hearing me I raised my voice and shouted several times. There was not the slightest response; not even an echo rewarded my efforts. For a while I stood stock still and kept my eyes in one direction. On one of the rising places around me I saw something dark move along, then another, and another. This was to my left, and seemingly moving to head me off.
I thought that again I might with my skill as a runner elude171 my enemies at this game, and so with all my speed darted forward.
Splash!
My feet had given way in a mass of slimy rubbish, and I had fallen headlong into a reeking, stagnant pool. The water and the mud in which my arms sank up to the elbows was filthy172 and nauseous beyond description, and in the suddenness of my fall I had actually swallowed some of the filthy stuff, which nearly choked me, and made me gasp for breath. Never shall I forget the moments during which I stood trying to recover myself almost fainting from the f?tid odour of the filthy pool, whose white mist rose ghostlike around. Worst of all, with the acute despair of the hunted animal when he sees the pursuing pack closing on him, I saw before my eyes whilst I stood helpless the dark forms of my pursuers moving swiftly to surround me.
It is curious how our minds work on odd matters even when the energies of thought are seemingly concentrated on some terrible and pressing need. I was in momentary peril173 of my life: my safety depended on my action, and my choice of alternatives coming now with almost every step I took, and yet I could not but think of the strange dogged persistency of these old men. Their silent resolution, their steadfast174, grim, persistency even in such a cause commanded, as well as fear, even a measure of respect. What must they have been in the vigour of their youth. I could understand now that whirlwind rush on the bridge of Arcola, that scornful exclamation175 of the Old Guard at Waterloo! Unconscious cerebration has its own pleasures, even at such moments; but fortunately it does not in any way clash with the thought from which action springs.
I realised at a glance that so far I was defeated in my object, my enemies as yet had won. They had succeeded in surrounding me on three sides, and were bent on driving me off to the left-hand, where there was already some danger for me, for they had left no guard. I accepted the alternative—it was a case of Hobson's choice and run. I had to keep the lower ground, for my pursuers were on the higher places. However, though the ooze176 and broken ground impeded177 me my youth and training made me able to hold my ground, and by keeping a diagonal line I not only kept them from gaining on me but even began to distance them. This gave me new heart and strength, and by this time habitual178 training was beginning to tell and my second wind had come. Before me the ground rose slightly. I rushed up the slope and found before me a waste of watery179 slime, with a low dyke180 or bank looking black and grim beyond. I felt that if I could but reach that dyke in safety I could there, with solid ground under my feet and some kind of path to guide me, find with comparative ease a way out of my troubles. After a glance right and left and seeing no one near, I kept my eyes for a few minutes to their rightful work of aiding my feet whilst I crossed the swamp. It was rough, hard work, but there was little danger, merely toil181; and a short time took me to the dyke. I rushed up the slope exulting182; but here again I met a new shock. On either side of me rose a number of crouching183 figures. From right and left they rushed at me. Each body held a rope.
The cordon184 was nearly complete. I could pass on neither side, and the end was near.
There was only one chance, and I took it. I hurled myself across the dyke, and escaping out of the very clutches of my foes185 threw myself into the stream.
At any other time I should have thought that water foul96 and filthy, but now it was as welcome as the most crystal stream to the parched186 traveller. It was a highway of safety!
My pursuers rushed after me. Had only one of them held the rope it would have been all up with me, for he could have entangled187 me before I had time to swim a stroke; but the many hands holding it embarrassed and delayed them, and when the rope struck the water I heard the splash well behind me. A few minutes' hard swimming took me across the stream. Refreshed with the immersion188 and encouraged by the escape, I climbed the dyke in comparative gaiety of spirits.
From the top I looked back. Through the darkness I saw my assailants scattering189 up and down along the dyke. The pursuit was evidently not ended, and again I had to choose my course. Beyond the dyke where I stood was a wild, swampy190 space very similar to that which I had crossed. I determined to shun191 such a place, and thought for a moment whether I would take up or down the dyke. I thought I heard a sound—the muffled192 sound of oars10, so I listened, and then shouted.
No response; but the sound ceased. My enemies had evidently got a boat of some kind. As they were on the up side of me I took the down path and began to run. As I passed to the left of where I had entered the water I heard several splashes, soft and stealthy, like the sound a rat makes as he plunges193 into the stream, but vastly greater; and as I looked I saw the dark sheen of the water broken by the ripples194 of several advancing heads. Some of my enemies were swimming the stream also.
And now behind me, up the stream, the silence was broken by the quick rattle195 and creak of oars; my enemies were in hot pursuit. I put my best leg foremost and ran on. After a break of a couple of minutes I looked back, and by a gleam of light through the ragged124 clouds I saw several dark forms climbing the bank behind me. The wind had now begun to rise, and the water beside me was ruffled196 and beginning to break in tiny waves on the bank. I had to keep my eyes pretty well on the ground before me, lest I should stumble, for I knew that to stumble was death. After a few minutes I looked back behind me. On the dyke were only a few dark figures, but crossing the waste, swampy ground were many more. What new danger this portended197 I did not know—could only guess. Then as I ran it seemed to me that my track kept ever sloping away to the right. I looked up ahead and saw that the river was much wider than before, and that the dyke on which I stood fell quite away, and beyond it was another stream on whose near bank I saw some of the dark forms now across the marsh198. I was on an island of some kind.
My situation was now indeed terrible, for my enemies had hemmed199 me in on every side. Behind came the quickening roll of the oars, as though my pursuers knew that the end was close. Around me on every side was desolation; there was not a roof or light, as far as I could see. Far off to the right rose some dark mass, but what it was I knew not. For a moment I paused to think what I should do, not for more, for my pursuers were drawing closer. Then my mind was made up. I slipped down the bank and took to the water. I struck out straight ahead so as to gain the current by clearing the backwater of the island, for such I presume it was, when I had passed into the stream. I waited till a cloud came driving across the moon and leaving all in darkness. Then I took off my hat and laid it softly on the water floating with the stream, and a second after dived to the right and struck out under water with all my might. I was, I suppose, half a minute under water, and when I rose came up as softly as I could, and turning, looked back. There went my light brown hat floating merrily away. Close behind it came a rickety old boat, driven furiously by a pair of oars. The moon was still partly obscured by the drifting clouds, but in the partial light I could see a man in the bows holding aloft ready to strike what appeared to me to be that same dreadful pole-axe which I had before escaped. As I looked the boat drew closer, closer, and the man struck savagely. The hat disappeared. The man fell forward, almost out of the boat. His comrades dragged him in but without the axe, and then as I turned with all my energies bent on reaching the further bank, I heard the fierce whirr of the muttered 'Sacre!' which marked the anger of my baffled pursuers.
That was the first sound I had heard from human lips during all this dreadful chase, and full as it was of menace and danger to me it was a welcome sound for it broke that awful silence which shrouded200 and appalled201 me. It was as though an overt sign that my opponents were men and not ghosts, and that with them I had, at least, the chance of a man, though but one against many.
But now that the spell of silence was broken the sounds came thick and fast. From boat to shore and back from shore to boat came quick question and answer, all in the fiercest whispers. I looked back—a fatal thing to do—for in the instant someone caught sight of my face, which showed white on the dark water, and shouted. Hands pointed to me, and in a moment or two the boat was under weigh, and following hard after me. I had but a little way to go, but quicker and quicker came the boat after me. A few more strokes and I would be on the shore, but I felt the oncoming of the boat, and expected each second to feel the crash of an oar9 or other weapon on my head. Had I not seen that dreadful axe disappear in the water I do not think that I could have won the shore. I heard the muttered curses of those not rowing and the laboured breath of the rowers. With one supreme202 effort for life or liberty I touched the bank and sprang up it. There was not a single second to spare, for hard behind me the boat grounded and several dark forms sprang after me. I gained the top of the dyke, and keeping to the left ran on again. The boat put off and followed down the stream. Seeing this I feared danger in this direction, and quickly turning, ran down the dyke on the other side, and after passing a short stretch of marshy203 ground gained a wild, open flat country and sped on.
Still behind me came on my relentless pursuers. Far away, below me, I saw the same dark mass as before, but now grown closer and greater. My heart gave a great thrill of delight, for I knew that it must be the fortress204 of Bicêtre, and with new courage I ran on. I had heard that between each and all of the protecting forts of Paris there are strategic ways, deep sunk roads where soldiers marching should be sheltered from an enemy. I knew that if I could gain this road I would be safe, but in the darkness I could not see any sign of it, so, in blind hope of striking it, I ran on.
Presently I came to the edge of a deep cut, and found that down below me ran a road guarded on each side by a ditch of water fenced on either side by a straight, high wall.
Getting fainter and dizzier, I ran on; the ground got more broken—more and more still, till I staggered and fell, and rose again, and ran on in the blind anguish205 of the hunted. Again the thought of Alice nerved me. I would not be lost and wreck her life: I would fight and struggle for life to the bitter end. With a great effort I caught the top of the wall. As, scrambling206 like a catamount, I drew myself up, I actually felt a hand touch the sole of my foot. I was now on a sort of causeway, and before me I saw a dim light. Blind and dizzy, I ran on, staggered, and fell, rising, covered with dust and blood.
'Halt la!'
The words sounded like a voice from heaven. A blaze of light seemed to enwrap me, and I shouted with joy.
'Qui va la?' The rattle of musketry, the flash of steel before my eyes. Instinctively207 I stopped, though close behind me came a rush of my pursuers.
Another word or two, and out from a gateway208 poured, as it seemed to me, a tide of red and blue, as the guard turned out. All around seemed blazing with light, and the flash of steel, the clink and rattle of arms, and the loud, harsh voices of command. As I fell forward, utterly209 exhausted, a soldier caught me. I looked back in dreadful expectation, and saw the mass of dark forms disappearing into the night. Then I must have fainted. When I recovered my senses I was in the guard room. They gave me brandy, and after a while I was able to tell them something of what had passed. Then a commissary of police appeared, apparently210 out of the empty air, as is the way of the Parisian police officer. He listened attentively211, and then had a moment's consultation212 with the officer in command. Apparently they were agreed, for they asked me if I were ready now to come with them.
'Where to?' I asked, rising to go.
'Back to the dust heaps. We shall, perhaps, catch them yet!'
'I shall try!' said I.
He eyed me for a moment keenly, and said suddenly:
'Would you like to wait a while or till tomorrow, young Englishman?' This touched me to the quick, as, perhaps, he intended, and I jumped to my feet.
'Come now!' I said; 'now! now! An Englishman is always ready for his duty!'
The commissary was a good fellow, as well as a shrewd one; he slapped my shoulder kindly213. 'Brave gar?on!' he said. 'Forgive me, but I knew what would do you most good. The guard is ready. Come!'
And so, passing right through the guard room, and through a long vaulted214 passage, we were out into the night. A few of the men in front had powerful lanterns. Through courtyards and down a sloping way we passed out through a low archway to a sunken road, the same that I had seen in my flight. The order was given to get at the double, and with a quick, springing stride, half run, half walk, the soldiers went swiftly along. I felt my strength renewed again—such is the difference between hunter and hunted. A very short distance took us to a low-lying pontoon bridge across the stream, and evidently very little higher up than I had struck it. Some effort had evidently been made to damage it, for the ropes had all been cut, and one of the chains had been broken. I heard the officer say to the commissary:
'We are just in time! A few more minutes, and they would have destroyed the bridge. Forward, quicker still!' and on we went. Again we reached a pontoon on the winding215 stream; as we came up we heard the hollow boom of the metal drums as the efforts to destroy the bridge was again renewed. A word of command was given, and several men raised their rifles.
'Fire!' A volley rang out. There was a muffled cry, and the dark forms dispersed216. But the evil was done, and we saw the far end of the pontoon swing into the stream. This was a serious delay, and it was nearly an hour before we had renewed ropes and restored the bridge sufficiently217 to allow us to cross.
We renewed the chase. Quicker, quicker we went towards the dust heaps.
After a time we came to a place that I knew. There were the remains218 of a fire—a few smouldering wood ashes still cast a red glow, but the bulk of the ashes were cold. I knew the site of the hut and the hill behind it up which I had rushed, and in the flickering219 glow the eyes of the rats still shone with a sort of phosphorescence. The commissary spoke116 a word to the officer, and he cried:
'Halt!'
The soldiers were ordered to spread around and watch, and then we commenced to examine the ruins. The commissary himself began to lift away the charred220 boards and rubbish. These the soldiers took and piled together. Presently he started back, then bent down and rising beckoned221 me.
'See!' he said.
It was a gruesome sight. There lay a skeleton face downwards222, a woman by the lines—an old woman by the coarse fibre of the bone. Between the ribs223 rose a long spike-like dagger made from a butcher's sharpening knife, its keen point buried in the spine224.
'You will observe,' said the commissary to the officer and to me as he took out his note book, 'that the woman must have fallen on her dagger. The rats are many here—see their eyes glistening225 among that heap of bones—and you will also notice'—I shuddered226 as he placed his hand on the skeleton—'that but little time was lost by them, for the bones are scarcely cold!'
There was no other sign of any one near, living or dead; and so deploying again into line the soldiers passed on. Presently we came to the hut made of the old wardrobe. We approached. In five of the six compartments227 was an old man sleeping—sleeping so soundly that even the glare of the lanterns did not wake them. Old and grim and grizzled they looked, with their gaunt, wrinkled, bronzed faces and their white moustaches.
The officer called out harshly and loudly a word of command, and in an instant each one of them was on his feet before us and standing at 'attention!'
'What do you here?'
'We sleep,' was the answer.
'Where are the other chiffoniers?' asked the commissary.
'Gone to work.'
'And you?'
'We are on guard!'
'Peste!' laughed the officer grimly, as he looked at the old men one after the other in the face and added with cool deliberate cruelty: 'Asleep on duty! Is this the manner of the Old Guard? No wonder, then, a Waterloo!'
By the gleam of the lantern I saw the grim old faces grow deadly pale, and almost shuddered at the look in the eyes of the old men as the laugh of the soldiers echoed the grim pleasantry of the officer.
I felt in that moment that I was in some measure avenged228.
For a moment they looked as if they would throw themselves on the taunter229, but years of their life had schooled them and they remained still.
'You are but five,' said the commissary; 'where is the sixth?' The answer came with a grim chuckle230.
'He is there!' and the speaker pointed to the bottom of the wardrobe. 'He died last night. You won't find much of him. The burial of the rats is quick!'
The commissary stooped and looked in. Then he turned to the officer and said calmly:
'We may as well go back. No trace here now; nothing to prove that man was the one wounded by your soldiers' bullets! Probably they murdered him to cover up the trace. See!' again he stooped and placed his hands on the skeleton. 'The rats work quickly and they are many. These bones are warm!'
I shuddered, and so did many more of those around me.
'Form!' said the officer, and so in marching order, with the lanterns swinging in front and the manacled veterans in the midst, with steady tramp we took ourselves out of the dustheaps and turned backward to the fortress of Bicêtre.
My year of probation has long since ended, and Alice is my wife. But when I look back upon that trying twelvemonth one of the most vivid incidents that memory recalls is that associated with my visit to the City of Dust.
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1
sojourner
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| n.旅居者，寄居者 | |
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2
rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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3
waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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boilers
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| 锅炉，烧水器，水壶( boiler的名词复数 ) | |
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5
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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6
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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7
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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8
implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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9
oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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10
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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11
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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12
allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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13
forerunner
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| n.前身，先驱（者），预兆，祖先 | |
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14
analogous
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| adj.相似的；类似的 | |
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15
voracious
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| adj.狼吞虎咽的，贪婪的 | |
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16
digestions
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| n.消化能力( digestion的名词复数 )；消化，领悟 | |
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17
apotheosis
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| n.神圣之理想；美化；颂扬 | |
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18
octopus
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| n.章鱼 | |
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19
apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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20
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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21
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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22
accede
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| v.应允，同意 | |
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23
parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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24
probation
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| n.缓刑(期)，(以观后效的)察看；试用(期) | |
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expiration
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| n.终结，期满，呼气，呼出物 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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27
well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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32
deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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33
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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41
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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42
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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43
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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44
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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45
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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46
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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47
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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48
shanties
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| n.简陋的小木屋( shanty的名词复数 )；铁皮棚屋；船工号子；船歌 | |
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49
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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50
thatch
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| vt.用茅草覆盖…的顶部；n.茅草(屋) | |
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51
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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52
judiciously
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| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
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53
colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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54
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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55
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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56
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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57
slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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58
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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59
worthies
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| 应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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60
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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61
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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62
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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63
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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64
persistency
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| n. 坚持(余辉, 时间常数) | |
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65
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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66
warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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67
retracing
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| v.折回( retrace的现在分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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68
mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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69
mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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70
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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71
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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72
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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73
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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74
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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75
albeit
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| conj.即使；纵使；虽然 | |
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76
infested
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| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
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77
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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78
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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79
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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80
clots
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| n.凝块( clot的名词复数 )；血块；蠢人；傻瓜v.凝固( clot的第三人称单数 ) | |
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81
psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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82
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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83
overt
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| adj.公开的，明显的，公然的 | |
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84
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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85
villains
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| n.恶棍( villain的名词复数 )；罪犯；（小说、戏剧等中的）反面人物；淘气鬼 | |
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86
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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87
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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88
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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89
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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90
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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91
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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92
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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93
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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94
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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95
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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96
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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97
foulness
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| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
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98
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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99
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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100
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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101
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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102
croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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103
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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104
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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105
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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106
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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107
respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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108
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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109
hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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110
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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111
filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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112
sewer
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| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
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113
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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114
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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115
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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116
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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117
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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118
bided
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| v.等待，停留( bide的过去式 )；居住；等待；面临 | |
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119
accomplices
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| 从犯，帮凶，同谋( accomplice的名词复数 ) | |
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120
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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121
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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122
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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123
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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124
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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125
noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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126
lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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127
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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128
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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129
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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130
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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131
embittered
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| v.使怨恨，激怒( embitter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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132
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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133
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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134
entangle
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| vt.缠住，套住；卷入，连累 | |
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135
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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136
knights
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| 骑士； （中古时代的）武士( knight的名词复数 )； 骑士； 爵士； （国际象棋中）马 | |
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137
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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138
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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139
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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140
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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141
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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142
cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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143
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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144
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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145
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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146
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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147
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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148
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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149
wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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150
spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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151
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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152
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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153
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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154
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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155
inferno
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| n.火海；地狱般的场所 | |
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156
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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157
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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158
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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159
agglomeration
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| n.结聚，一堆 | |
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160
noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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161
squatter
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| n.擅自占地者 | |
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162
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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163
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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164
stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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165
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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166
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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167
deploying
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| （尤指军事行动）使展开( deploy的现在分词 )； 施展； 部署； 有效地利用 | |
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168
constricted
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| adj.抑制的，约束的 | |
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169
oozy
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| adj.软泥的 | |
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170
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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171
elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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172
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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173
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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174
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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175
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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176
ooze
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| n.软泥，渗出物；vi.渗出，泄漏；vt.慢慢渗出，流露 | |
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177
impeded
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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179
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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180
dyke
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| n.堤，水坝，排水沟 | |
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181
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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182
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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183
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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184
cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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185
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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186
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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187
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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188
immersion
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| n.沉浸；专心 | |
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189
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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190
swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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191
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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192
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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193
plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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194
ripples
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| 逐渐扩散的感觉( ripple的名词复数 ) | |
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195
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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196
ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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197
portended
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| v.预示( portend的过去式和过去分词 )；预兆；给…以警告；预告 | |
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198
marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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shrouded
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| v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 )；保密 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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202
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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203
marshy
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| adj.沼泽的 | |
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204
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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205
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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206
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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207
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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208
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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209
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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210
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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215
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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216
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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217
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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218
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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219
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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220
charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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221
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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222
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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223
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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224
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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225
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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226
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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227
compartments
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| n.间隔( compartment的名词复数 )；（列车车厢的）隔间；（家具或设备等的）分隔间；隔层 | |
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228
avenged
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| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
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229
taunter
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| taunt（嘲笑，奚落；辱骂；说挖苦话）的变形 | |
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230
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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