Daphne, my uncle and myself rose with the break of day, and at an early hour we were standing2 in the market-place watching the worshippers throng3 into the cathedral.
Be it far from me to attempt to describe the various ornaments4 and robes displayed by the dames6 of Rivoli on this festal occasion: the silver chains and rich headdresses, the dainty cloaks and embroidered7 kirtles. Suffice it to say there was sufficient white, blue, and black among them to gladden the heart of his Holiness the late Pope, who has expressed his approval of these colours as most becoming to young persons. Nor were sober grey and brown wanting, hues8 suitable, according to the same authority, to ladies of a more advanced age.
"To be or not to be? that is the question," murmured my uncle, as the last devotee filed into the cathedral, and the great square was left to us. "Whether 'tis nobler to follow the crowd into this edifice10 to witness a ceremony whose superstition11 provokes my irreverence12, or to stroll onward14 in the soft morning air and finish this weed? Havana versus15 church, that is the question."
"No question at all," said Daphne; and, [Pg 115]compelling her pagan parent to fling away his cigar and assume a more decorous air, she drew him within the cathedral.
As we came as spectators only, we took up our position in a side-cloister. Looking round for the artist among the crowd of worshippers I at length discovered him in the very first line of seats, reading a Missal, with such attention that he never once glanced to left or right. His devout16 air and the position he had taken so near the chancel evidently implied an intention to partake of the Communion.
On the high altar seven lofty candlesticks of solid silver, each with its seven waxen tapers17, gleamed on the great brazen18 gates of the chancel, and on the lofty casement19 above with its blazoned20 saints and angels, and fretwork of purple and gold. The splendour was sufficient to illumine the whole length of the nave21, and, contrasted with the gloom of the more remote parts of the edifice, had a dazzling, not to say theatrical22, effect.
We had not occupied our position in the aisle23 above two minutes, when forth24 from the sacristy issued the train of the priests and their auxiliaries25. Thurifers swinging slow their golden censers, and acolytes26 with lighted tapers, led the way to the chancel. Father Ignatius, his eyes fixed28 on the ground, came last, robed in a magnificent white cope, and bearing under a veil the sacred vessels29, which he deposited on the altar.
"What is the matter?" remarked Daphne presently. "Why do they not begin?"
This question found an echo in my own mind. Though several minutes had elapsed since Ignatius had entered the sanctuary31, he had not yet begun the prefatory rite32 of incensing33 the crucifix, but was[Pg 116] conversing34 in whispers with his deacon, and their motions and glances, which were directed towards Angelo, seemed to intimate that the artist was the subject of their talk. It was with considerable surprise that we saw the deacon leave the sanctuary and, walking over to the spot where Angelo sat, still absorbed in his Missal, hold a brief but animated35 conversation with him. Presently he returned to the side of Father Ignatius. Whatever the object of this intercourse36 may have been, it had met with failure, to judge by the perplexed37 looks of the deacon.
The service commenced. The organ, touched by a master-hand, rolled with grand cadence38 through the cathedral, now swelling39 high and loud to the lofty arches above, now dying away with faint echoes in far-off aisles40.
From the chancel issued voices so mysteriously beautiful as to suggest the idea of a hidden choir41 of angels. Daphne was deeply interested, and even my anti-ecclesiastical uncle condescended43 to remark that it was a "well-organised noise."
As for me, the character of the worship was such that at any other time it would have enthralled44 my senses and filled me with dreams of medi?valism; but on the present occasion curiosity to know the nature of the communication that had passed between Angelo and the deacon overcame every other feeling, and made me inattentive to the solemnity.
The tinkling45 bell of the acolyte27 sounded, and the assembly fell on their knees as Father Ignatius elevated the sacred host for the adoration46 of the faithful. The sun by this time had mounted high above the rooftops and was now gilding47 the chancel-window with its splendour: and from the holy dove figured at the apex48 of this casement, arrowy beams of mystic and many[Pg 117] coloured light slanted49 full on the head of the aged50 priest, lighting51 up a countenance52 thin and ascetic53, yet bearing in every lineament the lofty spirit and iron will of a Hildebrand.
The time had come for the people to receive the Mass. Among the first to advance and kneel reverently54 at the altar-rails was Angelo. My position prevented me from seeing his face. I could not help wondering whether his faith was sincere, and whether, in accordance with the spirit of the holy mystery, he was in charity with all mankind, even with me, his rival.
The administration of the sacrament was conducted by Father Ignatius accompanied by the deacon, who held the paten under his host as it was placed on the tongue of the receiver. The worthy55 padre commenced at the Epistle side of the altar. Angelo was the ninth in order from that end. We noticed with surprise that Ignatius, while giving the host to the first eight, never once looked at them, but kept his eyes all the time on Angelo with a fixed stony56 expression that gave no indication of his thoughts.
I waited with painful interest for the priest to confront Angelo, absurdly thinking there might be some secret between them, and that in addition to the ritual words Ignatius might whisper others not of sacred import. I was certainly not prepared for the result. As Angelo reverently elevated his face to receive the wafer between his lips, Ignatius, affecting not to notice the action, passed him by for the next communicant, and proceeded with the delivery.
I was doubtful at first whether I had seen aright, but the looks interchanged among the assembly told me that others too had observed the action. My wonder found its reflection in the wide-open eyes of Daphne; her arm trembled on mine, but she did not speak; for[Pg 118] a deep silence had fallen over all, and the faintest whisper would have attracted attention.
What could be the reason for this action on the part of the priest? What could Angelo have done to forfeit57 the privileges of the Church? Quick as a flash of light there rose before me the confessional scene of the preceding day. Was the rejection59 of Angelo the result of the recital60 made to Father Ignatius by the silver-haired penitent61? Of the nature of that confession58 I had only an inkling, but that it was the key to this priest's conduct I felt certain.
The first line of communicants retired62 to their seats. The artist did not move but remained kneeling solitary63 and silent, his lips pressing the cold marble chancel-rails, his hands clasped nervously64 above his dark hair, as if he were supplicating65 the Church, his mother, to receive and forgive an erring66 child.
For a brief moment I had entertained the idea that Ignatius, in passing Angelo by, had perhaps committed an oversight67. It was impossible now for him not to perceive the artist; but with a face cold and impenetrable as marble he stood erect68 within the chancel, openly ignoring the other's mute appeal to be noticed. It was clear that his refusal to give the Communion to him was a deliberate act. The most exquisite69 penalty that can fall on the soul of a devout Catholic had fallen on Angelo. A rustle70 of surprise passed through the assembly like the ripple71 of the forest-leaves swayed by the summer breeze.
Despite my jealousy72 I could not help pitying the artist at having to suffer this slight in the face of a great mass of people. He had crossed the sea and travelled hundreds of miles expressly (so he had told us) to be present at this solemn festa—a festa hallowed by all the memories of his childhood and youth; and[Pg 119] the end of it all was to become an excommunicate from the Church he loved, an object of suspicion to the people among whom he had been brought up.
Several minutes had elapsed since the first communicants had retired; a second line had not yet come forward, and the artist continued to kneel in silent loneliness. Still he moved not, as if dreading73 to lift his head and face the wondering eyes of the faithful.
Father Ignatius was in a dilemma75. Knowing—as I supposed—his old protégé's passionate76 nature, he feared that a command for the artist to retire might provoke an outburst of rage that would profane77 the sacred solemnity. He hesitated to speak, and so this singular tableau78 continued some moments longer, and people looked at each other, wondering how it was going to end.
Suddenly the deep hush79 and awe80 that lay on all was broken. Sweetly, solemnly, from some hidden portion of the chancel, in tones as clear as a silver bell, the voice of a woman arose. She was singing a sacred solo; and the words directed none to draw near the altar but those whose consciences were pure, whose lives were holy. The effect of this music was thrilling in the extreme. Whether applicable or not to the would-be communicant, certain it was that his whole figure quivered like an aspen, and his head sank still lower on the chancel-rails. The solo did not form part of Mozart's Mass, and I could not help thinking afterwards that Father Ignatius had previously81 directed that the words should be sung in the event of the artist's presenting himself at the altar.
Still Angelo did not stir; and the deacon glanced at Father Ignatius, as if apprehensive82 of a disturbance83. That ecclesiastic42 staved off the difficulty for a time by[Pg 120] motioning the attendants to bring forward a second line of communicants, who, advancing to the chancel, knelt some on one side of Angelo, some on the other.
Would the priest ignore the artist a second time? was the thought that filled every mind in the cathedral. Interest gleamed from every face. The sanctuary had assumed for the time being the aspect of a stage, and with bated breath the assembly awaited the result, as an audience awaits the dénouement of a play. The only person who showed no trace of feeling was Ignatius himself. With solemn air he proceeded to the delivery of the Sacrament. Once more he approached the artist, who elevated his face to receive the host, and once more did Ignatius pass him by.
At this second refusal Angelo bounded to his feet with a suddenness that startled every one except Ignatius, who, calm and dignified84, drew back a few paces, covering with the linen85 corporal the paten containing the wafers as if to guard them from seizure86 and profanation87.
With eyes of fire and lip of scorn Angelo glared round on the assembly, as if in disdain88 of any opinion they might have formed of him, his face proud, dark, and defiant89. The cathedral attendants, observing his wild bearing, were stepping forward to remove him, but a signal from Father Ignatius checked their advance.
"Peace!" he exclaimed with lifted hand, and at his word the rising murmur9 of many voices was hushed. "Peace! Let there be no tumult90, I pray you, my children. My conduct may seem harsh, but the occasion warrants it. My son," he continued, turning to the artist, "you have forced this humiliation91 on yourself. Warned yestereven by me that you had forfeited92 the privileges of the Church, you have yet dared to disobey her voice, and to approach her hallowed altar.[Pg 121] Leave this holy place, I pray you in quietude; or if force be employed in your removal, on your head be the guilt93 of profanation!"
"One question, and I retire. For what reason do you thus refuse me the Mass?"
"The reverence13 due to the holy mysteries forbids you to participate in them. Now go. Would that my words might be: Vade in pace!" The voice of a judge giving sentence of death could not have been more impressive than those solemn tones issuing from the depths of the chancel. "Will you compel me to speak out?" he added, as the artist showed no sign of moving. "Let your own conscience vindicate95 me."
"My conscience acquits96 me of any action that can justify97 you in excluding me from the Communion."
"The saints pardon thee that falsehood, my son!"
"Falsehood!" repeated the artist, stepping up to the chancel rails with clenched98 hands, and with so dark an expression on his face that I thought he was going to attack Ignatius. "If it were not for your age and holy office, you would not dare use such words to me. But the priest is protected by his alb and chasuble, as a woman by her sex. You have publicly affronted99 me. I demand an explanation, nor will I retire till you give it."
"This is not the time or place. At the confessional will I hear thee—nay, absolve100 thee; but come not as thou art to the holy altar."
"I tell you,"—Angelo began angrily, but Ignatius would not hear him.
"Too long have we listened to thee!" he exclaimed with a gesture of impatience101. "Attendants, remove[Pg 122] this brawler102, ere from the high altar we curse him with bell, book, and candle!"
His eyes, glaring defiantly104 round at one and all, suddenly lighted upon us. There in that hour of his humiliation he beheld105 a sight calculated to call up all the bitterness of his nature; the woman whom he loved reclining in the arms of the man whom he hated! Daphne, with a frightened air, was clinging half fainting to me.
He cast a look at her as if appealing for sympathy, but in the expression of her face, and in the quickly averted106 motion of her head, he read the loss of all his hopes.
I was but human—it was ignoble107 of me, I know—but I could not repress the exultant108 thought that this was a splendid triumph for me!
A similar thought was evidently passing through the mind of the artist. Despair caused him to stand immovable, staring in Daphne's direction, regardless of the people's murmurs109 that rose on the air like the sound of many waters—regardless of the advice of the attendants to withdraw quietly. Like a statue he stood, deaf to their appeals, till at length, losing their patience, the attendants, aided by some of of the worshippers, laid hands on him to enforce his removal. Their grasp seemed to rouse all the latent fury of his nature.
"Touch me at your peril!" he cried, struggling to free himself from their grasp and actually striking out among them with clenched hands. "Who dare accuse me of guilt? I have not deserved this," he continued, panting and breathless, as he was dragged with more force than ceremony from the chancel. "Let[Pg 123] me go. Release my wrists. I am going quietly, I tell you. Will you not take my word? Cowards! Oh, if my hands were but free! I ... let me go ... I tell you ... let me——"
The oaken door of the sacristy removed the struggling group from our view; and the scene that for the space of a few minutes had degraded a holy solemnity to the level of a stage-representation was at an end.
"Why, the boy must be mad!" cried my uncle, as Angelo's cries became lost in the distance.
Daphne lay a dead weight in my arms.
"She has fainted," I whispered to her father; and I bore her far away from the worshippers to the entrance of the cathedral for the cool morning air to revive her.
It is impossible to describe my thoughts as I held her close to me. Once before, on the very morn of her intended wedding, she had been snatched away; and now on a second occasion, when another rival seemed on the point of winning her, and of triumphing over me, events had conspired110 to destroy all his hopes. Was there not a fatality111 in this? Was not Destiny reserving Daphne for me alone?
"No one shall ever have you but myself," I murmured, as I gazed on her beautiful face.
An old woman had been slowly following us. She now offered us her assistance.
"Let me see to her," she said, as I laid her at the pedestal of a font near the porch, and, kneeling, sustained her head on my knee. "Poor pretty lady, she will soon come to."
And she proceeded to remove Daphne's hat, and to loosen her cloak and dress.
[Pg 124]
"Is there no water to be had?" said my uncle, lifting the lid of the baptismal basin and peeping in. "None here. Ah! the holy water at the porch! Good!"
"The holy water couldn't be put to a better use," I said, as my uncle darted114 to look for some receptacle to convey the water in.
"Is not this lady's name Daphne Leslie?" inquired the old dame, chafing115 the hands of her patient.
"I have heard it often enough," she smiled, "on the lips of my boy Angelo. You know him well. I am his old nurse. Perhaps you have heard him speak of me."
"I believe I have," I replied.
"Ah me! this lady has turned my poor boy's brain. He is mad—quite mad—with love for her. No sleep had he last night. All through the long hours he was walking his room to and fro, to and fro, to and fro, repeating her name. Ah, why did Father Ignatius frown so on him? I want to tell her that he is a good youth and can have done nothing wrong. The Father is a hard man, and the lightest trifle displeases117 him. I saw this lady faint at my poor boy's disgrace, and I want to tell her that it is all well with him. Jesu, Maria!" she ejaculated suddenly, looking with loving adoration on Daphne's face "how beautiful she is! A worthy match for my handsome boy."
So this, then, was her motive118 in attending Daphne! To pour into her ear the praises of Angelo, and to assure her of the goodness of his character!
[Pg 125]
"Your 'boy,' as you call him, shall never have Daphne," I exclaimed savagely—"never!"
And in an ecstasy119 of rage and love I kissed her passionately120, and at the very moment my lips met hers her dark blue eyes opened wide and looked full into mine. Was it the reflection of my own eyes that I beheld in hers or did they really shine with a tender light? Did her fingers really return my pressure, or was it but the effect of my imagination? I could not tell. She had returned to her unconscious state again. The old woman had risen to her feet, and was regarding me with a superb contempt that would have done credit to the prince of darkness.
"So you, then, are the rival of whom my boy speaks in his dreams—you!" she exclaimed with a gesture of disdain. "And do you hope to win this lady from him—you? It will not be by the beauty of your face, then. Compared with you, my boy is an angel."
"I thank you for your services," I replied coldly, "but I can dispense121 with them, and with your compliments too. I wish you good-day, madame."
And, seeing that my uncle could not find a vessel30 in which to convey the water, I lifted Daphne and carried her over to him. The old dame remained standing on the spot where I had left her, and, after contemplating122 me for a few seconds, walked off with a stately air.
"What have you done to offend our good bonne?" asked my uncle, as he sprinkled Daphne's face and throat with water.
"Who do you think she is?"
"Florence Nightingale?"
"Angelo's nurse. She was instituting comparisons between your humble123 servant and her oil-and-colour protégé; so I dismissed her."
[Pg 126]
Very slowly Daphne recovered from her swoon, smiling faintly at her weakness, and very tenderly did I lead her to a seat.
"I feel quite frightened, Frank," said Daphne, trembling all over, "at what has just happened. Why did the priest refuse Angelo the Sacrament?"
"That is a mystery I too would like to solve."
"The priest must have had some reason for his action," she rejoined. "How awful Angelo looked when he jumped to his feet and glared round on the people! Promise me that you will not leave me alone with him," she said, laying her hand confidingly125 on my arm. "I feel afraid of him now; I did not think he could be so wild and passionate."
I gave her the required promise, knowing that the reason she exacted it was her dread74 lest the artist should use such opportunity for declaring his love to her.
She drew, perhaps unconsciously, nearer to me, and her arm within mine tightened126 its clasp. At the same time a rose she was wearing in her hat (a flower from the bouquet127 Angelo had given her the previous day) fell from its stalk. Daphne affected128 not to notice its fall, and it lay neglected, its petals129 scattered130 and withered131 as the hopes of the donor132.
"Well, what have they done with Angelo?" said I to my uncle, as that worthy returned to us.
"His paroxysm of fury passed off after a few minutes, so they let him go."
"Do you think," I whispered, to my uncle as we journeyed homewards, "that Angelo's Madonna had[Pg 127] anything to do with his expulsion from the Communion?"
"I am pretty sure that it had not," was the reply. "Angelo's was a much more grave offence."
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1
boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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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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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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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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5
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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dames
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| n.（在英国）夫人（一种封号），夫人（爵士妻子的称号）( dame的名词复数 )；女人 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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irreverence
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| n.不尊敬 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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tapers
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| （长形物体的）逐渐变窄( taper的名词复数 )； 微弱的光； 极细的蜡烛 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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blazoned
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| v.广布( blazon的过去式和过去分词 )；宣布；夸示；装饰 | |
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nave
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| n.教堂的中部；本堂 | |
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theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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auxiliaries
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| n.助动词 ( auxiliary的名词复数 )；辅助工，辅助人员 | |
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acolytes
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| n.助手( acolyte的名词复数 )；随从；新手；（天主教）侍祭 | |
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acolyte
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| n.助手，侍僧 | |
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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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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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rite
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| n.典礼，惯例，习俗 | |
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incensing
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| 焚香，烧香（incense的现在分词形式） | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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ecclesiastic
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| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
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condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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enthralled
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| 迷住，吸引住( enthrall的过去式和过去分词 )； 使感到非常愉快 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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adoration
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| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
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gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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48
apex
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| n.顶点，最高点 | |
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49
slanted
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| 有偏见的； 倾斜的 | |
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50
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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51
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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52
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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53
ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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54
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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55
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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56
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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57
forfeit
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| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
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58
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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59
rejection
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| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
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60
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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61
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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62
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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63
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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64
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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65
supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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66
erring
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| 做错事的，错误的 | |
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67
oversight
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| n.勘漏，失察，疏忽 | |
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68
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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69
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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70
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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71
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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72
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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73
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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74
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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75
dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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76
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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77
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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78
tableau
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| n.画面，活人画（舞台上活人扮的静态画面） | |
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79
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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80
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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81
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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82
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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83
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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84
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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85
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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86
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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87
profanation
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| n.亵渎 | |
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88
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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89
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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90
tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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91
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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92
forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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93
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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vindicate
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| v.为…辩护或辩解，辩明；证明…正确 | |
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acquits
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| 宣判…无罪( acquit的第三人称单数 )； 使（自己）作出某种表现 | |
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97
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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98
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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99
affronted
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| adj.被侮辱的，被冒犯的v.勇敢地面对( affront的过去式和过去分词 )；相遇 | |
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100
absolve
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| v.赦免，解除（责任等） | |
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101
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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102
brawler
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| 争吵者，打架者 | |
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103
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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104
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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105
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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106
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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107
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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108
exultant
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| adj.欢腾的，狂欢的，大喜的 | |
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109
murmurs
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| n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 )；低语声；怨言；嘀咕 | |
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110
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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111
fatality
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| n.不幸，灾祸，天命 | |
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112
alabaster
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| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
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113
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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114
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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115
chafing
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| n.皮肤发炎v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的现在分词 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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116
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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117
displeases
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| 冒犯，使生气，使不愉快( displease的第三人称单数 ) | |
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118
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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119
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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120
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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121
dispense
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| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
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122
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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123
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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124
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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125
confidingly
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| adv.信任地 | |
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126
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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127
bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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128
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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129
petals
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| n.花瓣( petal的名词复数 ) | |
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130
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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131
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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132
donor
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| n.捐献者；赠送人；(组织、器官等的)供体 | |
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