"Then I shall help you!" the lad declared.
"Would you take on another of them?" the stranger answered eagerly. "But no, you are over young for it! You are over young by your voice." Then, as the key grated in the lock, "Stand at my back if you will," he continued, "and if they--would play me foul3, it may serve. But I shall give him brief occasion! You will see a pretty thing, my lad."
Crash! The door was forced open, letting a flood of smoky light into the dark place. He who had opened the door, Ampoule himself, strode back, when he had done it, across the wooden bridge, and flinging a hoarse4 taunt5, a "Come if you dare!" over his shoulder, swaggered to the farther end of the hollow space which the men had formed by ranging themselves in three lines; the bridge and moat forming the fourth. One in every three or four held up a blazing firebrand, plucked from the flames; the light of which, falling on the intervening space, rendered it as clear as in the day.
The stranger, a little to Roger's surprise, but less to the surprise of Ampoule's comrades, did not obey the summons with much alacrity6. He waited in the doorway7, accustoming8 his eyes to the light, and the lad, whose heart overflowed9 with pity and apprehension--for he could not think his ally a match for Ampoule's skill and strength--had time to mark the weird10 mingling11 of glare and shadow, and to wonder if this lurid12 space encircled by unreal buildings were indeed the peaceful courtyard which he had known from childhood. Meanwhile Ampoule waited disdainfully at the other end of the lists, and as one who scarcely expected his adversary13 to appear made his blade whistle in the air. Or, in turn, to show how lightly he held the situation, he aimed playful thrusts at the legs of the man who stood nearest, and who skipped to escape them.
"Oh, tace! tace!" the stranger answered in a peevish15 tone. He showed himself on the drawbridge, and with an air of great caution began to cross it. He still wore his mask. "You are more anxious than most to reach the end of your life," he continued in the same querulous tone. "You are ready?"
"Who hang back?" the stranger answered. As he spoke17 he stepped from the end of the bridge like a man stepping into cold water. He even seemed to hold himself ready to flee if attacked too suddenly. "But you are sure you are ready now?" he queried18. "Quite ready? Do not let me"--with a backward glance--"take you by surprise!"
Ampoule began to think that it would not be without trouble he would draw his adversary within reach. The duels19 of those days, be it remembered, were not formal. Often men fought without seconds; sometimes in full armour20, sometimes in their shirts. Advantages that would now be deemed dishonourable were taken by the most punctilious21. So, to lure22 on his man and show his own contempt for the affair, Ampoule tossed up his sword, and caught it again by the hilt. "I'm ready!" he said. He came forward three paces, and again tossing up his sword, recovered it.
But the masked man seemed to be unwilling23 to quit the shelter of the drawbridge; so unwilling that Roger, who had taken up his position on the bridge behind him, felt his cheek grow hot. His ally had proved himself such a master of tongue fence as he had never imagined. Was he, ready as he had been to provoke the quarrel, of those who blench24 when the time comes to make good the taunt?
It seemed so. For the stranger still hung undecided, a foot as it were either way. "You are sure that I should not now take you by surprise?" he babbled25, venturing at length a couple of paces in the direction of the foe--but glancing behind between his steps.
The word was still on his lips, when like a tiger-cat, like that which in all the world is most swift to move, like, if you will, the wild boar that will charge an army, the mask darted27 rather than ran upon his opponent. But at the same time with an incredible lightness. Before Ampoule could place himself in the best posture29, before he could bring his sword-point to the level, or deal one of those famous "estrama?ons" which he had been wasting on the empty air, the other was within his guard, they were at close quarters, the advantage of the bigger man's length of arm was gone. How it went after that, who struck, who parried, not the most experienced eye could see. So quick on one another, so furious, so passionate30 were the half-dozen blows the masked man dealt, that the clearest vision failed to follow them. It was as if a wild cat, having itself nine lives, had launched itself at Ampoule's throat, and gripped, and stabbed, and struck, and in ten seconds borne him to the ground, falling itself with him. But whereas in one second the masked man was up again and on his guard, Ampoule rose not. A few twitches31 of the limbs, a stifled32 groan33, an arm flung wide, a gasp34, and as he had seen many another pass, through the gate by which he had sent not a few, Ampoule passed himself. Of so thin a texture35 is the web of life, and so slight the thing that suffices to tear it. Had the masked stranger ridden another road that night, had he been a little later, had he been a little sooner; had the trooper refrained from his jest or the men from the wine-pot, had Roger kept his distance, or the arrow-slit looked another way--had any one of these chance occasions fallen other than it fell, Ampoule had lived, and others perchance had died by his hand!
All passed, it has been said, with incredible swiftness; the attack so furious, the end a lightning-stroke. Roger on the bridge awoke from a doubt of his ally's courage to see a whirl, a blow, a fall; and then on the ground ill-lighted and indistinct--for half the men had dropped their lights in their excitement--he saw a grim picture, a man dying, and another crouching36 a pace from him, watching with shortened point and bent37 knees for a possible uprising.
But none came; Ampoule had lived. And presently, still watching cautiously, the mask raised himself and dropped his point. A shiver, a groan passed round the square. A single man swore aloud. Finally three or four, shaking off the stupor38 of amazement39, moved forwards, and with their eyes assured themselves that their officer was dead.
At that Roger, still looking on as one fascinated, shook himself awake, in fear for his principal. He expected that an attack would be made on the masked man. None was made, however, no one raised hand or voice. But as he moved towards him, to support him were it needful, the unexpected happened. The unknown tottered40 a pace or two, leant a moment on his sword-point, swayed, and slowly sank down on the ground.
With a cry of despair Roger sprang to him, and by the gloomy light of the three brands which still remained ablaze41, he saw that blood was welling fast from a wound in the masked man's shoulder. Ampoule had passed, but not without his toll42.
Roger forgot the danger. Kneeling, following his instinct, he took the fainting man's head on his shoulder. But he was helpless in his ignorance; he knew not how to aid him. And it was one of the troopers, late his enemies, who, kneeling beside him, quickly and deftly43 cut away the breast of the injured man's shirt, and with a piece of linen44, doubled and redoubled, staunched the flow of blood. The others stood round the while, one or two lending a light, their fellows looking on in silence. Roger, even in his distress45, wondered at their attitude. It would not have surprised him if the men had fallen on the stranger and killed him out of hand. Instead they bent over the wounded man with looks of curiosity; with looks gloomy indeed, but in which awe46 and admiration47 had their part. Presently at his back a man muttered.
"The devil, or a Joyeuse!" he said. "No other, I'll be sworn!"
No one answered, but the man who was dressing48 the wound lifted the unknown's hand and silently showed a ring set with stones that even by that flickering49 and doubtful light dazzled the eye. They were stones such as Roger had never seen, and he fancied that they must be of inestimable value.
"Ay, ay!" the man who had spoken muttered. "I thought it was so when I saw him join! I mind his brother, the day he died, taking two of his own men so, and--pouf! I saw him drown an hour after, and he took the water just so, cursing and swearing; but the Tarn50 was too strong for him."
"That was Duke Antony?" a second whispered.
"Antony Scipio."
"I never saw him," the second speaker answered softly. "Duke Anne at Coutras--I saw him die; and des Ageaux, that is now Governor of Périgord, got just such a wound as that in trying to save him."
"Pouf! All the world knew him!" he who had first spoken rejoined with the scorn of superior knowledge. "But"--to the man who was binding51 up the hurt, and who had all but finished his task--"you had better look and make sure that we shall not have our trouble for nothing."
The trooper nodded and began to feel for the fastening of the mask, which was of strong silk on a stiff frame. Roger raised his hand to prevent him, but as quickly repressed the impulse. The men were saving the man's life, and had a right to learn who he was. Besides, sooner or later, the thing must come off.
Its removal was not easy. But at length the man found the catch, it gave way, and the morsel52 of black fell and disclosed the pale, handsome face of an effeminate, fair-haired man of about thirty. "Ay, it is he! It is he, sure enough!" went around the circle, with here and there an oath of astonishment53.
"Has any one a mouthful of Armagnac?" the impromptu54 surgeon asked. "No, not wine. There now, gently between his lips. When he has swallowed a little we must lift him into the house. He will do well, I think."
"But," Roger asked, after in vain interrogating55 their faces with his eyes, "who is it? Who it is, if you please? You know him?"
"Ay, we know him," the trooper answered sententiously. And, rising to his feet, he looked about him. "Best close that gate," he said, raising his voice. "If his people be on his track, as is likely, and come on us before we can make it clear, it may be awkward! See to it, some of you. And do you, Jasper, take horse and tell the Captain, and get his orders."
Two or three of the men, whom the event had most sobered, strode across the court to do his bidding. Roger looked from one to another of those who remained. "But who is he?" he asked. His curiosity was piqued56, the more sharply as it was evident that the presence of this man who lay before him, wounded and unconscious, altered, in some fashion, the whole position.
"Who is he?" the former spokesman answered roughly. "Father Angel, to be sure! You have heard of him, I suppose, young sir?"
"Father Angel?" Roger repeated incredulously. "A priest? Impossible!"
"A monk?"
"Ay, and a marshal for the matter of that!" the trooper rejoined impatiently. "Here, lift him, you! Gently, gently! Man, it is the Duke of Joyeuse," he continued, addressing Roger. "You have heard of him, I take it? Now, step together, men, and you won't shake him! We must lay him in the dining-hall. He will do well there." And again to Roger, who walked with him behind the bearers, "If you don't believe me, see here," he said. "Tis plain enough still!" And taking a burning splinter of wood from one of the others he held it so that the light fell on the crown of the wounded man's head. There discernible amid the long fair hair was the pale shadow of a tonsure58.
"Father Angel?" Roger repeated in wonder, as the men bearing their burden stepped slowly and warily59 on to the bridge.
"Ay, no other! And riding on what mad errand God knows! It was an unlucky one for Ampoule. But they are all mad in that house! Coutras saw the end of one brother, Villemar of another; there are but this one and the Cardinal60 left! Look your fill," he continued, as the men under his direction carried their burden up the three or four steps that led from the outer hall--where the fire Ampoule had knocked together still burned on the dogs--to the dining-hall. "Monk and Marshal, Duke and Capuchin, angel and devil, you'll never see the like again!"
Probably his words were not far from the mark. Anne, the eldest61 of the four brothers, by whom and by whose interest with King Henry the Third the house had risen from mediocrity to greatness, from respectability to fame, had fallen at Coutras encircled by the old nobility whom he had led to defeat. His brother, Antony Scipio, young as he was, had taken charge for the League in Languedoc, had pitted himself against the experience of Montmorency, and for a time had carried it. But his minor62 successes had ended in a crushing defeat at Villemar on the Tarn, and he had drowned his chagrin63 in its icy waters, cursing and swearing, says the old chronicler, to the last. The event had drawn64 from his monastery65 the singular man on whom Roger now looked, Henry, third of the brothers, third Duke of the name, the fame of whose piety66 within the cloister67 was only surpassed by that of his excesses in the world; who added to an emotional temperament68 and its sister gift of eloquence69 the feverish70 energy and headlong courage of his race. Snatching the sword fallen from his brother's hands, in five and twenty months he had used it with such effect as to win from the King the baton71 of a marshal as the price of his obedience72.
"M. de Joyeuse!" Roger muttered, as he watched them lay the unconscious man on an improvised73 couch in the corner. "M. de Joyeuse? It seems incredible!"
"There is nothing credible28 about them," the man answered darkly. "The old fool who keeps the gate here would try the belief of most with his fables74. But he'll never put the handle to their hatchet," with a nod of meaning. "Yet to listen to him, Charlemagne and the twelve were not on a level with his master--once! But where are you going, young sir?" in an altered tone.
"To tell the Vicomte what has occurred," Roger answered, his hand on the latch75 of the inner door--the door that led to the stairs and the upper rooms.
"By your leave!"
"I don't understand."
"By your leave, I say!" the trooper answered more sharply, and in a twinkling he had intervened, turned the key in the lock and withdrawn76 it. "I am sorry, young sir," he continued, coolly facing about again, "but until we know what is to do, and what the Captain's orders are--he has a trump77 card in his hand now, or I am mistaken--I must keep you here, by your leave."
"Against my leave!"
"As you please for that."
"I should have though that you had had enough of keeping people!" Roger retorted angrily.
"May-be Ampoule has," the man answered with a faint sneer78. "I'll see if I have not better luck. Come, young sir," he continued with good-humour, "you cannot say that I have been aught but gentle so far. You've fared better with me, ay, a mort better, than you'd have fared if the Captain had been here. But I don't want to have to hurt you if it comes to blows upstairs. You are safer here looking after the Duke. And trust me, you'll thank me, some day."
Roger glared at him in resentment79. He felt that he who lay helpless in the corner would have known how to deal with the man and the situation; but, for himself, he did not. To attempt force was out of the question, and the trooper had withdrawn and closed the door, leaving Roger alone with the patient, before the idea of bribery80 occurred to the lad. It was as well perhaps; for what was there at Villeneuve, what had they in that poverty-stricken home of such a value as to outweigh81 the wrath82 of Vlaye? Or to corrupt83 men who had seen, without daring to touch, a ring worth a King's ransom84?
Nothing, for certain, which it was in Roger's power to give. Moreover, the situation, though full of peril85, seemed less desperate. The Duke's act, if it had wrought86 no more, had sobered the men, and his presence, wounded as he was, was a factor Roger could not estimate. The respect with which the men treated him when he lay at their mercy, and their care to do the best for him, to say nothing of the feelings of awe and admiration in which they held him--these things promised well. The question was, how would his presence affect M. de Vlaye? And his pursuit of the Countess?
Roger had no notion. The possession of the person of a prince who ruled a great part of Languedoc might touch the Captain of Vlaye--a minnow by comparison, but in his own water--in a number of ways. It might strengthen him in his present design, or it might turn him from it by opening some new prospect87 to his ambition. Again, M. de Vlaye might treat the Duke in one of several modes; as an enemy, as a friend, as a hostage. He might use the occasion well or ill. He might work on fears or gratitude88. All to Roger was dark and uncertain; as dark as the courtyard, where the flames of the huge fire had sunk low, and men by the dull glow of the red embers were removing in a cloak the body of the unfortunate Ampoule. Ay, and as uncertain as the breathing of the wounded man in the corner, which now seemed to stop, and now hurried weakly on.
Roger paced the room. He did not know for certain what had become of the Countess, or of his sister, or of his father. He took it for granted that they had sought the greater safety of the upper rooms. He had himself, earlier in the evening, suggested that if the worst threatened they might retreat to the tower chamber89, and there defend themselves; but the Vicomte had pooh-poohed the suggestion, and though Bonne, who persisted in expecting help from outside, had supported it, the plan had been given up. Still they were gone, and they could have retired90 no other way. He listened at the locked door, hoping to hear feet on the stairs; for they must be anxious about him. But all was still. His sister, the Countess, the Vicomte, might have melted into the air--as far as he was concerned.
And this, anxious as he was for them, vexed91 him. He had failed! The long silence that had brooded over the decaying house, the dull life against which he and his brother had fretted92, were come to an end with a vengeance93. But what use had he made of the opportunity? When he should have been playing the hero upstairs, when he should have been the head and front of the defence, directing all, inspiring all, he lay here in a locked room like a naughty child who must be shielded from harm.
A movement on the part of the sick man cut short his thoughts. The Duke was making futile94 attempts to raise himself on his elbow. "Ageaux! Des Ageaux!" he muttered. "You are satisfied now! I struck him fairly."
Roger hurried to him and leant over him. "Lie still and do not speak," he said, hoping to soothe95 him.
"We are quits now," the Duke whispered. "We are quits now. Say so, man!" he continued querulously. "I tell you Vlaye will trouble you no more. I struck him fairly in the throat."
"Yes, yes," Roger replied. It was evident that the Duke was rambling96 in his mind, and took him for some one else. "We are quits now."
"Quits," the wounded man muttered, as if he found some magic in the words. And he drowsed off again into the half-sleep, half-swoon of exhaustion97.
Roger could make nothing of it, except that the Duke had Vlaye in his mind, and fancied that it was he whom he had killed. But des Ageaux, whom he fancied he was addressing? Roger knew him by name and that he was Governor of Périgord, a man of name and position beyond his rank. But how came he in this galley98? Oh, yes. He remembered now. His name had been mentioned in connection with the death of the eldest Joyeuse at Coutras.
Roger snuffed the candles, and mixing a little wine with water, put it by the Duke's side. Then he wandered to the locked door, and again listened fruitlessly. Thence, for he could not rest, he went to the window, where he pressed his forehead against the cool glass. The fire had sunk lower; it was now no more than an angry eye glowing in the darkness. He could discern little by its light. No one moved, the courtyard seemed as vacant and deserted99 as the house. Or no. In the direction of the gate he caught the glint of a lanthorn and the movement of several figures, revealed for an instant and as suddenly obscured. He continued to watch the place where the light had vanished, and presently out of the obscurity grew a black mass that slowly took the form of a number of men crossing the court in a silent body, five or six abreast100. The tramp of their feet, inaudible on the soil, rumbled101 hollowly as they mounted the bridge, which creaked beneath them. He caught the gleam of weapons, heard a low order given, fell back from the window. He had little doubt what they were about to do.
He was right. The heavy, noisy entry into the outer hall had scarcely prepared him before the door was thrown open and they filed into the room in which he stood.
What could he do? Resistance was out of the question. "What is it?" he asked, making a show of confronting them.
"No matter, young sir," the man who had before taken charge answered gruffly. "Stand you on one side and no harm will happen to you."
"But----"
"Stand back! Stand back!" the man answered sternly. "We are on no boy's errand!" Then to his party, "Bring the lights," he continued, and advancing to the inner door he unlocked it. "Who has the hammer? Good, do you come first with me. And let the last two stand here and keep the door."
He went through without more words, and disappeared up the staircase, followed by his men in single file. The two last remained on guard at the door, and they and Roger waited in the semi-darkness listening to the lumbering102 tread of the troopers as they stumbled on the wooden stairs, or their weapons clanged against the wall. Roger clenched103 his hands hard, vowing104 vengeance; but what could he do? And he had one consolation105. Ampoule's death had sobered the men. They would execute their orders, but the fear of outrage106 and excess which had dwelt on his mind earlier in the evening no longer seemed serious.
The sound of the men's feet on the stairs had ceased; he guessed that they were searching the rooms overhead. A moment later their movements made this clear. He heard their returning footsteps and their raised voices in the upper passage. They seemed to confer, and to halt for a minute undecided. Then a door, doubtless the one which led to the roof, was tried, and tried again. But in vain, for the next moment a voice cried harshly, "Open! Open!" and after an interval107 a crash, twice repeated, proclaimed that the hammer was being brought into use. A scrambling108 of hasty feet followed, and then silence--doubtless they were crossing the roof--and then a pistol shot! One pistol shot!
Roger glared at the men who had been left with him. They opened the door more widely, and stepping through seemed to listen. For a moment the wild notion of locking the door on them, of locking the door on all, occurred to Roger. But he discarded it.
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1
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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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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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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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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7
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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8
accustoming
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| v.（使）习惯于( accustom的现在分词 ) | |
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overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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peevish
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| adj.易怒的，坏脾气的 | |
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fuming
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| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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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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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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duels
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| n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 )；竞争，斗争 | |
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armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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punctilious
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| adj.谨慎的，谨小慎微的 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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blench
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| v.退缩，畏缩 | |
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babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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poltroon
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| n.胆怯者；懦夫 | |
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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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credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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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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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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twitches
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| n.（使）抽动， （使）颤动， （使）抽搐( twitch的名词复数 ) | |
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stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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39
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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40
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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41
ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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42
toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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43
deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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44
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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45
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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46
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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47
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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48
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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49
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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50
tarn
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| n.山中的小湖或小潭 | |
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51
binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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52
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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53
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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54
impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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55
interrogating
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| n.询问技术v.询问( interrogate的现在分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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56
piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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57
monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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58
tonsure
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| n.削发；v.剃 | |
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59
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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60
cardinal
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| n.(天主教的)红衣主教；adj.首要的，基本的 | |
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61
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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62
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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63
chagrin
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| n.懊恼；气愤；委屈 | |
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64
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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65
monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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66
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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67
cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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68
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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71
baton
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| n.乐队用指挥杖 | |
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72
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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74
fables
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| n.寓言( fable的名词复数 )；神话，传说 | |
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75
latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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76
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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77
trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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79
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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80
bribery
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| n.贿络行为，行贿，受贿 | |
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81
outweigh
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| vt.比...更重，...更重要 | |
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82
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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83
corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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84
ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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85
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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86
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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87
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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88
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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89
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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91
vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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92
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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93
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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94
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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95
soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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96
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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97
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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98
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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99
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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100
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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101
rumbled
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| 发出隆隆声，发出辘辘声( rumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 轰鸣着缓慢行进； 发现…的真相； 看穿（阴谋） | |
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102
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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103
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
vowing
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
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105
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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106
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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107
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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108
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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