More than ever was Ortho determined9 to forswear his religion at the first opportunity. He asked if there were any chances of escape from Morocco. Puddicombe replied that there were none. Every man’s hand was against one; besides, Sidi Mahomet I. had swept the last Portuguese10 garrison11 (Mazagan) off the coast six years previously12, so where was one to run? He went on to describe some of the tortures inflicted13 on recaptured slaves—such as having limbs rotted off in quick-lime, being hung on hooks and sawn in half—and counseled Ortho most strongly, should any plan of escape present itself, not to divulge14 it to a soul. Nobody could be trusted. The slave gangs were sown thick with spies, and even those who were not employed as such turned informer in order to acquire merit with their masters.
“Dogs!” cried Ortho, blazing at such treachery.
“Not so quick with your ‘dogs,’?” said Puddicombe, quietly. “You may find yourself doin’ it some day—under the bastinado.”
Something in the old man’s voice made the boy wonder if he were not speaking from experience, if he had not at some time, in the throes of torture, given a friend away.
On the second day they were taken to the market and auctioned17. Before the sale took place the Basha picked out a fifth of the entire number, including all the best men, and ordered them to be marched away as the Sultan’s perquisites18. Ortho was one of those chosen in the first place, but a venerable Moor19 in a sky-blue jellab came to the rescue, bowing before the Governor, talking rapidly and pointing to Ortho the while. The great man nodded, picked a Dutchman in his place and passed on. The public auction16 then began, with much preliminary shouting and drumming. Prisoners were dragged out and minutely inspected by prospective20 buyers, had their chests thumped21, muscles pinched, teeth inspected, were trotted22 up and down to expose their action, exactly like dumb beasts at a fair.
The simile23 does not apply to Mr. Puddicombe. He was not dumb; he lifted up his voice and shouted some rigmarole in Arabic. Ortho asked him what he was saying.
“Tellin’ ’em what I can do, bless you! Think I want to be bought by a poor man and moil in the fields? No, I’m going to a house where they have cous-cous every day—y’understan’? See what I mean?”
“Ahoy there, lords!” he bawled24. “Behold25 me! Nine years was I in Algiers at the house of Abd-el-Hamri, the lawyer in Sidi Okbar Street. No Nesrani dog am I, but a Moslem26, a True Believer. Moreover, I am skilled in sewing and carpentry and many kindred arts. Question me, lords, that ye may see I speak the truth. Ahoy there, behold me!”
His outcry brought the buyers flocking. The auctioneer, seeing his opportunity, enlarged on Mr. Puddicombe’s supposed merits. Positively27 the most accomplished28 slave Algiers had ever seen, diligent29, gifted and of celebrated30 piety31. Not as young as he had been perhaps, but what of it? What was age but maturity32, the ripeness of wisdom, the fruit of experience? Here was no gad-about boy to be forever sighing after the slave wenches, loitering beside the story-tellers and forgetting his duty, but a man of sound sense whose sole interests would be those of his master. What offers for this union of all the virtues33, this household treasure? Stimulated34 by the dual35 advertisement, the bidding became brisk, the clamor deafening36, and Mr. Puddicombe was knocked down, body and soul for seventeen pounds, thirteen shillings and fourpence (fifty-three ducats) to a little hunch-back with ophthalmia, but of extreme richness of apparel.
Prisoner after prisoner was sold off and led away by his purchaser until only Ortho remained. He was puzzled at this and wondered what to do next, when the venerable Moor in the blue jellab finished some transaction with the auctioneer and twitched37 at his sleeve. As the guards showed no objection, or, indeed, any further interest in him, he followed the blue jellab. The blue jellab led the way westwards up a maze38 of crooked39 lanes until they reached the summit of the town, and there, under the shadow of the minaret41, opened a door in an otherwise blank wall, passed up a gloomy tunnel, and brought Ortho out into a courtyard.
The court was small, stone-paved, with a single orange tree growing in the center and arcades42 supported on fretted43 pillars running all round.
A couple of slave negresses were sweeping44 the courtyard with palmetto brooms under the oral goadings of an immensely stout45 old Berber woman, and on the north side, out of the sun, reclining on a pile of cushions, sat Captain Benjamin MacBride, the traditional picture of the seafarer ashore46, his pipe in his mouth, his tankard within reach, both arms filled with girl. He had a slender, kindling47 Arab lass tucked in the crook40 of his right arm, his left arm encompassed48 two fair-skinned Moorish49 beauties. They were unveiled, bejeweled and tinted50 like ripe peaches; their haiks were of white silk, their big-sleeved undergarments of colored satin; their toes were painted with henna and so were their fingers; they wore black ink beauty spots on their cheeks. Not one of the brilliant little birds of paradise could have passed her seventeenth year.
Captain MacBride’s cherry-hued countenance51 wore an expression of profound content.
He hailed Ortho with a shout, “Come here, boy!” and the three little ladies sat up, stared at the newcomer and whispered to each other, tittering.
“I’ve bought you, d’ y’ see?” said MacBride.
“An’ a tidy penny you cost me. If the Basha wasn’t my very good friend you’d ha’ gone to the quarries52 and had your heart broken first and your back later, so you’re lucky. Now bestir yourself round about and do what old Saheb (indicating the blue jellab) tells you, or to the quarries you go—see? What d’ y’ call yourself, heh?”
Ortho told him.
“Ortho Penhale; that’ll never do.” He consulted the birds of paradise, who tried the outlandish words over, but could not shape their tongues to them. They twittered and giggled53 and wrangled54 and patted MacBride’s cheerful countenance.
“Hark ’e,” said he at last. “Tama wants to name you ‘Chitane’ because you look wicked. Ayesha is for ‘Sejra’ because you’re tall, but Schems-ed-dah here says you ought to be called ‘Sa?d’ because you’re lucky to be here.” He pressed the dark Arab girl to him. “So ‘Sa?d’ be it. ‘Sa?d’ I baptize thee henceforth and forever more—see?”
Break-of-Dawn embraced her lord, Tama and Ayesha pouted55. He presented them with a large knob of colored sweetmeat apiece and they were all smiles again. Peace was restored and Ortho stepped back under his new name, “Sa?d”—the fortunate one.
From then began his life of servitude at the house on the hill and it was not disagreeable. His duties were to tend the captain’s horse and the household donkey, fetch wood and water and run errands. In the early morning MacBride would mount his horse (a grossly overfed, cow-hocked chestnut), leave the town by the Malka Gate, ride hell-for-leather, every limb in convulsion, across the sands to the shipyards at the southeast corner of the town. Ortho, by cutting through the Jews’ quarter and out of the Mrisa Gate as hard as he could run, usually managed to arrive within a few minutes of the captain and spent the rest of the morning walking the horse about while his master supervised the work in the yards. These were on the bend of the river under shelter of a long wall, a continuation of the town fortifications. Here the little xebecs were drawn57 up on ways and made ready for sea. Renegade craftsmen58 sent spars up and down, toiled like spiders in webs of rigging, splicing59 and parceling; plugged shot holes, repaired splintered upper works, painted and gilded60 the flamboyant61 beaks62 and sterns, while gangs of slaves hove on the huge shore capstans, bobbed like mechanical dolls in the saw-pits, scraped the slender hulls63 and payed them over with boiling tallow. There were sailmakers to watch as well, gunsmiths and carvers; plenty to see and admire.
The heat of the day MacBride spent on the shady side of his court in siesta64 among his ladies, and Ortho released the donkey from its tether among the olive trees outside the Chaafa Gate and fetched wood and water, getting the former from charcoal65 burners’ women from the Forest of Marmora. He met many other European slaves similarly employed—Frenchmen, Spaniards, Italians, Dutchmen, Portuguese, Greeks and not a few British. They spoke66 Arabic together and a lingua franca, a compound of their several tongues, but Ortho was not attracted by any of them; they were either too reticent67 or too friendly. He remembered what Puddicombe had said about spies and kept his mouth shut except on the most trivial topics. Puddicombe he frequently encountered in the streets, but never at the wells or in the charcoal market. The menial hauling of wood and drawing of water were not for that astute68 gentleman; he had passed onto a higher plane and was now steward69 with menials under him.
His master (whom he designated as “Sore-Eyes”) was very amiable70 when not suffering from any of his manifold infirmities, amiable, not to say indulgent. He had shares in every corsair in the port, fifteen cows and a large orchard71. The slaves had cous-cous, fat mutton and chicken scrapings almost every day, butter galore and as much fruit as they could eat. He was teaching Sore-Eyes the King’s Game and getting into his good graces. But, purposely, not too deep. Did he make himself indispensable Sore-Eyes might refuse to part with him and he would not see Sidi Okbar Street again—a Jew merchant had promised to get his letter through. Between his present master and the notary72 there was little to choose, but Sallee was a mere73 rat-hole compared with Algiers. He enlarged on the city of his captivity74, its white terraces climbing steeply from the blue harbor, its beauty, wealth and activity with all the tremulous passion of an exile pining for home.
Many free renegades were there also about the town with whom Ortho was on terms of friendship—mutineers, murderers, ex-convicts, wanted criminals to a man. These gentry75 were almost entirely76 employed either as gunners and petty officers aboard the corsairs or as skilled laborers77 in the yards. They had their own grog-shops and resorts, and when they had money lived riotously78 and invited everybody to join. Many a night did Ortho spend in the renegado taverns79 when the rovers were in after a successful raid, watching them dicing80 for shares of plunder81 and dancing their clattering82 hornpipes; listening to their melancholy83 and boastful songs, to their wild tales of battle and disaster, sudden affluence84 and debauch85; tales of superstition86 and fabulous87 adventure, of phantom88 ships, ghost islands, white whales, sea dragons, Jonahs and mermaids89; of the pleasant pirate havens90 in the main, slave barracoons on the Guinea coast, orchid-poisoned forests in the Brazils, of Indian moguls who rode on jeweled elephants beneath fans of peacock feathers, and the ice barriers to the north, where the bergs stood mountain-high and glittered like green glass.
Sometimes there were brawls91 when the long sheath knives came out and one or other of the combatants dropped, occasionally both. They were hauled outside by the heels and the fun went on again. But these little unpleasantnesses were exceptional. The “mala casta” ashore were the essence of good fellowship and of a royal liberality; they were especially generous to the Christian92 captives, far more kindly93 than the slaves were to each other.
The habitual94 feeling of restraint, of suspicion, vanished before the boisterous95 conviviality96 of these rascals97. When the fleets came, banging and cheering, home over the bar into the Bou Regreg and the “mala casta” were in town blowing their money in, the Europeans met together, spoke openly, drank, laughed and were friends. When they were gone the cloud descended98 once more, the slaves looked at each other slant-wise and walked apart.
But Ortho cared little for that; he was at home in the house on the hill and passably happy. It was only necessary for him to watch the Government slaves being herded to work in the quarries and salt-pans, ill-clad, half-starved, battered99 along with sticks and gun butts100, to make him content with his mild lot. Not for nothing had he been named “Sa?d,” the fortunate.
He had no longer any thought of escape. One morning returning with wood he met a rabble101 in the narrow Souika. They had a mule102 in their midst, and dragging head down at the mule’s tail was what had once been a man. His hands were strapped103 behind him so that he could in no way protect himself but bumped along the ruts and cobbles, twisting over and over. His features were gone, there was not a particle of skin left on him, and at this red abomination the women cursed, the beggars spat104, the children threw stones and the dogs tore.
It was a Christian, Ortho learnt, a slave who had killed his warder, escaped and been recaptured.
The rabble went on, shouting and stoning, towards the Fez Gate, and Ortho drove his donkey home, shivering, determined that freedom was too dear at that risk. There was nothing in his life at the captain’s establishment to make him anxious to run. The ample Mahma did not regard him with favor, but that served to enhance him in the eyes of Saheb, the steward, between whom and the housekeeper105 there was certain rivalry106 and no love lost.
The two negresses were merely lazy young animals with no thoughts beyond how much work they could avoid and how much food they could steal. Of the harem beauties he saw little except when MacBride was present and then they were fully107 occupied with their lord. MacBride was amiability108 itself.
Captain MacBride at sea, at the first sign of indiscipline, tricing his men to the main-jeers and flogging them raw; Captain MacBride, yard-master of Sallee, bellowing109 blasphemies111 at a rigger on a top-mast truck, laying a caulker112 out with his own mallet113 for skimped114 work, was a totally different person from Ben MacBride of the house on the hill. The moment he entered its portals he, as it were, resigned his commission and put on childish things. He would issue from the tunnel and stand in the courtyard, clapping his hands and hallooing for his dears. With a flip-flap of embroidered115 slippers116, a jingle117 of bangles and twitters of welcome they would be on him and he would disappear in a whirl of billowing haiks. The embraces over, he would disgorge his pockets of the masses of pink and white sweetmeats he purchased daily and maybe produce a richly worked belt for Ayesha, a necklace of scented118 beads120 for Tama, fretted gold hair ornaments121 for Schems-ed-dah, and chase them round and round the orange tree while the little things snatched at his flying coat-tails and squealed122 in mock terror.
What with overseeing the yards, where battered corsairs were constantly refitting, and supervising the Pilot’s School, where young Moors123 were taught the rudiments124 of navigation, MacBride was kept busy during the day, and his household saw little of him, but in the evenings he returned rejoicing to the bosom125 of his family, never abroad to stray, the soul of domesticity. He would lounge on the heaped cushions, his long pipe in his teeth, his tankard handy, Schems-ed-dah nestling against one shoulder, Tama and Ayesha taking turns with the other, and call for his jester, Sa?d.
“Hey, boy, tell us about ole Jerry and the bear.”
Then Ortho would squat126 and tell imaginary anecdotes127 of Jerry, and the captain would hoot128 and splutter and choke until the three little girls thumped him normal again.
“Rot me, but ain’t that rich?” he would moan, tears brightening his scarlet129 cheeks. “Ain’t that jist like ole Jerry—the ole rip! He-he! Tell us another, Sa?d—that about the barber he shaved and painted like his own pole—go on.”
Sa?d would tell the story. At first he had been at pains to invent new episodes for Captain Gish, that great hero of MacBride’s boyhood, but he soon found it quite unnecessary; the old would do as well—nay, better. It was like telling fairy stories to children, always the old favorites in the old words. His audience knew exactly what was coming, but that in no way served to dull their delight when it came. As Ortho (or Sa?d) approached a well-worn climax131 a tremor132 of delicious expectancy133 would run through Schems-ed-dah (he was talking in Arabic now), Tama and Ayesha would clasp hands, and MacBride sit up, eyes fixed134 on the speaker, mouth open, like a terrier ready to snap a biscuit. Then the threadbare climax. MacBride would cast himself backwards135 and beat the air with ecstatic legs; Schems-ed-dah clap her hands and laugh like a ripple136 of fairy bells; Ayesha and Tama hug each other and swear their mirth would kill them.
When they recovered, the story-teller was rewarded with rum and tobacco from that staunch Moslem MacBride, with sweetmeats and mint tea from the ladies. He enjoyed his evenings. During the winter they sat indoors before charcoal braziers in which burned sticks of aromatic137 wood, but on the hot summer nights they took to the roof to catch the sea breeze. Star-bright, languorous138 nights they were.
Below them the white town, ghostly glimmering139, sloped away to the coast and the flats. Above them the slender minaret, while on the lazy wind came the drone of breakers and the faint sweet scent119 of spice gardens. Voluptuous140, sea-murmurous nights, milk-warm, satin-soft under a tent of star-silvered purple.
Sometimes Schems-ed-dah fingered a gounibri and sang plaintive141 desert songs of the Bedouin women, the two other girls, snuggling, half-asleep, against MacBride’s broad chest, crooning the refrains.
Sometimes Ayesha, stirred by moonlight, would dance, clicking her bracelets142, tinkling143 tiny brass144 cymbals145 between her fingers, swaying her graceful146 body backwards and sideways, poising147 on her toes, arms outstretched, like a sea-bird drifting, stamping her heels and shuddering148 from head to toe.
Besides story-telling, Ortho occasionally lifted up his voice in song. He had experimented with his mother’s guitar in times gone by and found he could make some show with the gounibri.
He sang Romany ditties he had learnt on his travels, and these were approved of by the Moorish girls, being in many ways akin15 to their own. But mostly he sang sea songs for the benefit of MacBride, who liked to swell149 the chorus with his bull bellow110. They sang “Cawsand Bay,” “Baltimore,” “Lowlands Low” and “The Sailor’s Bride,” and made much cheerful noise about it, on one occasion calling down on themselves the reproof150 of the muezzin, who rebuked151 them from the summit of the minaret, swearing he could hardly hear himself shout. Eleven months Ortho remained in congenial bondage152 in Sallee.
Then one morning MacBride sent for him. “I’m goin’ to set you free, Sa?d, my buck,” said he.
Ortho was aghast, asked what he had done amiss.
MacBride waved his hand. “I ain’t got nothin’ against you as yet, but howsomdever I reckon I’d best turn you loose. I’m goin’ to sea again—as reis.”
“Reis!” Ortho exclaimed. “What of Abdullah Benani?”
“Had his neck broken by the Sultan’s orders in Mequinez three days ago for losin’ them three xebecs off Corunna. I’m to go in his place. I’ve settled about you with the Basha. You’re to go to the Makhzen Horse as a free soldier. I’ll find you a nag56 and gear; when you sack a rich kasba you can pay me back. You’ll make money if you’re clever—and don’t get shot first.”
“Can’t I go with you?”
“No. We only take Christians153 with prices on their heads at home. They don’t betray us then—you might.”
“Well, can’t I stop here in Sallee?”
“That you cannot. It has struck me that you’ve been castin’ too free an eye on my girls. Mind you, I don’t blame you. You’re young and they’re pretty; it’s only natural. But it wouldn’t be natural for me to go to sea and leave you here with a free run. Anyhow I’m not doin’ it.”
Ortho declared with warmth that MacBride’s suspicions were utterly154 unfounded, most unjust; he was incapable155 of such base disloyalty.
The captain wagged his bullet head. “Maybe, but I’m not takin’ any risks. Into the army you go—or the quarries.”
Ortho declared hastily for the army.
A fortnight later MacBride led his fleet out over the bar between saluting156 forts, and Ortho, with less ceremony, took the road for Mequinez.
That phase of his existence was over. He had a sword, a long match-lock and a passable Barb130 pony157 under him. Technically158 he was a free man; actually he was condemned159 to a servitude vastly more exacting160 than that which he had just left. A little money might come his way, bullets certainly, wounds probably, possibly painful death—and death was the only discharge.
He pulled up his horse at the entrance of the forest and looked back. His eye was caught by the distant shimmer161 of the sea—the Atlantic. He was going inland among the naked mountains and tawny162 plains of this alien continent, might never see it again.
The Atlantic!—the same ocean that beat in blue, white and emerald upon the shores of home, within the sound of whose surges he had been born. It was like saying good-by to one’s last remaining friend. He looked upon Sallee. There lay the white town nestling in the bright arm of the Bou Regreg, patched with the deep green of fig163 and orange groves164. There soared the minaret, its tiles a-wink in the sunshine. Below it, slightly to the right, he thought he could distinguish the roof of MacBride’s house—the roof of happy memories. He wondered if Schems-ed-dah were standing165 on it looking after him. What cursed luck to be kicked out just as he was coming to an understanding with Schems-ed-dah!
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1
dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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filth
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| n.肮脏，污物，污秽；淫猥 | |
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omniscient
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| adj.无所不知的；博识的 | |
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6
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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7
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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Portuguese
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| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
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garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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12
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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auction
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| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
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auctioned
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| v.拍卖( auction的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perquisites
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| n.（工资以外的）财务补贴( perquisite的名词复数 )；额外收入；（随职位而得到的）好处；利益 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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thumped
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| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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Moslem
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| n.回教徒，穆罕默德信徒；adj.回教徒的，回教的 | |
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positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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diligent
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| adj.勤勉的，勤奋的 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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31
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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maturity
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| n.成熟；完成；(支票、债券等)到期 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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dual
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| adj.双的；二重的，二元的 | |
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36
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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41
minaret
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| n.（回教寺院的）尖塔 | |
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42
arcades
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| n.商场( arcade的名词复数 )；拱形走道（两旁有商店或娱乐设施）；连拱廊；拱形建筑物 | |
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43
fretted
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| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
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44
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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46
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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47
kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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48
encompassed
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| v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 )；包围；包含；包括 | |
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49
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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50
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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51
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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52
quarries
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| n.（采）石场( quarry的名词复数 )；猎物（指鸟，兽等）；方形石；（格窗等的）方形玻璃v.从采石场采得( quarry的第三人称单数 )；从（书本等中）努力发掘（资料等）；在采石场采石 | |
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53
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
wrangled
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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57
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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58
craftsmen
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| n. 技工 | |
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59
splicing
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| n.编接（绳）；插接；捻接；叠接v.绞接( splice的现在分词 )；捻接（两段绳子）；胶接；粘接（胶片、磁带等） | |
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60
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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61
flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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62
beaks
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| n.鸟嘴( beak的名词复数 )；鹰钩嘴；尖鼻子；掌权者 | |
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63
hulls
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| 船体( hull的名词复数 )； 船身； 外壳； 豆荚 | |
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64
siesta
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| n.午睡 | |
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65
charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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66
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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67
reticent
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| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
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68
astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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69
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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70
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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71
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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72
notary
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| n.公证人，公证员 | |
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73
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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74
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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75
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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76
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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77
laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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78
riotously
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| adv.骚动地，暴乱地 | |
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79
taverns
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| n.小旅馆，客栈，酒馆( tavern的名词复数 ) | |
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80
dicing
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| n.掷骰子，（皮革上的）菱形装饰v.将…切成小方块，切成丁（ dice的现在分词 ） | |
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81
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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82
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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83
melancholy
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|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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84
affluence
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| n.充裕，富足 | |
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85
debauch
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| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
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86
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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87
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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88
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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89
mermaids
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| n.（传说中的）美人鱼( mermaid的名词复数 ) | |
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90
havens
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| n.港口，安全地方( haven的名词复数 )v.港口，安全地方( haven的第三人称单数 ) | |
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91
brawls
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| 吵架，打架( brawl的名词复数 ) | |
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92
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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93
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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94
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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95
boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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96
conviviality
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| n.欢宴，高兴，欢乐 | |
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97
rascals
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| 流氓( rascal的名词复数 )； 无赖； （开玩笑说法）淘气的人（尤指小孩）； 恶作剧的人 | |
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98
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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99
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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100
butts
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| 笑柄( butt的名词复数 )； （武器或工具的）粗大的一端； 屁股； 烟蒂 | |
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101
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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102
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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103
strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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104
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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105
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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106
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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107
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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108
amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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109
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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110
bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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111
blasphemies
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| n.对上帝的亵渎，亵渎的言词[行为]( blasphemy的名词复数 )；侮慢的言词（或行为） | |
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112
caulker
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| n.填塞船缝的人或器具 | |
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113
mallet
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| n.槌棒 | |
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114
skimped
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| v.少用( skimp的过去式和过去分词 )；少给；克扣；节省 | |
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115
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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116
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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117
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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118
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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119
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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120
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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121
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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122
squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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123
moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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124
rudiments
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| n.基础知识，入门 | |
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125
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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126
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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127
anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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128
hoot
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| n.鸟叫声，汽车的喇叭声； v.使汽车鸣喇叭 | |
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129
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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130
barb
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| n.（鱼钩等的）倒钩，倒刺 | |
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131
climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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132
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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133
expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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134
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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135
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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136
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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137
aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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138
languorous
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| adj.怠惰的，没精打采的 | |
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139
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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140
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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141
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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142
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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143
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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144
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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145
cymbals
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| pl.铙钹 | |
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146
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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147
poising
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| 使平衡( poise的现在分词 )； 保持（某种姿势）； 抓紧； 使稳定 | |
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148
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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149
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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150
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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151
rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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152
bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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153
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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154
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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155
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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156
saluting
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的现在分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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157
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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158
technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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159
condemned
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|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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160
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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161
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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162
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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163
fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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164
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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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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