Dick Darvall now learned that, owing to the disturbed state of the country, Captain Wilmot had left a small body of men to occupy Bull’s ranch1 for a time; hence their presence at the critical moment when Jackson and his daughter stood so much in need of their assistance. He also found that there were two letters awaiting the party at Traitor’s Trap—one for Charles Brooke, Esquire, and one for Mr S. Leather. They bore the postmarks of the old country.
“You’d better not start back wi’ them for three or four days, Dick,” said Jackson, when they were seated that evening in the hall of the ranch, enjoying a cup of coffee made by the fair hands of Mary.
Dick shook his head. “I’m acting2 post-boy just now” said he, “an’ it would ill become me to hang off an’ on here waitin’ for a fair wind when I can beat into port with a foul3 one.”
“But if the Redskins is up all round, as some o’ the boys have reported, it’s not merely a foul wind but a regular gale4 that’s blowin’, an’ it would puzzle you to beat into port in the teeth o’ that.”
“I think,” remarked Mary, with an arch smile, “that Mr Darvall had better ‘lay to’ until the troops return to-night and report on the state of the weather.”
To this the gallant5 seaman6 declared that he would be only too happy to cast anchor altogether where he was for the rest of his life, but that duty was duty, and that, blow high or blow low, fair weather or foul, duty had to be attended to.
“That’s true, O high-principled seaman!” returned Jackson; “and what d’ye consider your duty at the present time?”
“To deliver my letters, O Roarin’ Bull!” replied Dick.
“Just so, but if you go slick off when Redskins are rampagin’ around, you’ll be sure to get nabbed an’ roasted alive, an’ so you’ll never deliver your letters.”
“It’s my duty to try,” said Dick. “Hows’ever,” he added, turning to Mary with a benignant smile, “I’ll take your advice, Miss Mary, an’ wait for the report o’ the soldiers.”
When the troopers returned, their report was, that the Redskins, after being pretty severely7 handled, had managed to reach the woods, where it would have been useless to follow them so close upon night; but it was their opinion that the band, which had so nearly captured the boss of the ranch and his daughter, was merely a marauding band, from the south, of the same Indians who had previously8 attacked the ranch, and that, as for the Indians of the district, they believed them to be quite peaceably disposed.
“Which says a good deal for them,” remarked the officer in command of the troops, “when we consider the provocation9 they receive from Buck10 Tom, Jake the Flint, and such-like ruffians.”
“The moon rises at ten to-night, Dick,” said Jackson, as they went together to the stables to see that the horses were all right.
“That’s so,” said the sailor, who noticed something peculiar11 in the man’s tone; “what may be the reason o’ your reference to that bit of astronomy?”
“Why, you see,” returned the other, “post-boys in these diggin’s are used to travellin’ night an’ day. An’ the troopers’ report o’ the weather might be worse. You was sayin’ somethin’ about duty, wasn’t you?”
“Right, Jackson,” returned Dick, “but Black Polly is not used to travellin’ night an’ day. If she was, I’d take her back to-night, for moonlight is good enough for a man that has twice taken soundin’s along the road, an’ who’s well up in all the buoys12, beacons13, an’ landmarks14, but it would be cruelty to the good mare15.”
“Duty first, Dick, the mare second. You don’t need to trouble about her. I’ll lend ye one o’ my best horses an’ take good care o’ Black Polly till Hunky Ben claims her.”
“Thank ’ee, Jackson, but I’ll not part wi’ Black Polly till I’ve delivered her to her owner. I won’t accept your invite to stop here three or four days, but neither will I start off to-night. I’ve too much regard for the good mare to do that.”
“Ho! ho!” thought his host, with an inward chuckle16, “it’s not so much the mare as Mary that you’ve a regard for, my young sailor!”
But in spite of his name the man was much too polite to express this opinion aloud. He merely said, “Well, Dick, you know that you’re welcome to squat17 here as long or as short a time as you like, an’ use the best o’ my horses, if so disposed, or do the postboy business on Black Polly. Do as ye like wi’ me an’ mine, boy, for it’s only fair to say that but for your help this day my Mary an’ me would have bin18 done for.”
They reached the stable as he was speaking, and Jackson at once turned the conversation on the horses, thus preventing a reply from Dick—in regard to which the latter was not sorry.
In the stall the form of Black Polly looked grander than ever, for her head nearly touched the roof as she raised it and turned a gleaming eye on the visitors, at the same time uttering a slight whinny of expectation.
“Why, I do believe she has transferred her affections to you, Dick,” said Jackson. “I never heard her do that before except to Hunky Ben, and she’s bin many a time in that stall.”
“More likely that she expected Ben had come to bid her good-night,” returned the sailor.
But the way in which the beautiful creature received Dick’s caresses19 induced Jackson to hold to his opinion. It is more probable, however, that some similarity of disposition20 between Dick Darvall and Hunky Ben had commended itself to the mare, which was, as much as many a human being, of an amiable21, loving disposition. She thoroughly22 appreciated the tenderness and forbearance of her master, and, more recently, of Dick. No doubt the somewhat rough way in which she had been thrown to the ground that day may have astonished her, but it evidently had not soured her temper.
That night Dick did not see much of Mary. She was far too busy attending to, and providing for, the numerous guests at the ranch to be able to give individual attention to any one in particular—even had she been so disposed.
Buttercup of course lent able assistance to her mistress in these domestic duties, and, despite her own juvenility—we might perhaps say, in consequence of it—gave Mary much valuable advice.
“Dat man’s in a bad way,” said she, as, with her huge lips pouting23 earnestly, she examined the contents of a big pot on the fire. The black maiden25’s lips were so pronounced and expressive26 that they might almost be said to constitute her face!
“What man?” asked Mary, who, with her sleeves tucked up to the elbows, was manipulating certain proportions of flour, water, and butter.
“Why, Dick, oh course. He’s de only man wuth speakin’ about.”
Mary blushed a little in spite of herself, and laughed hilariously27 as she replied—
“Dear me, Butter, I didn’t think he had made such a deep impression on you.”
“’S not on’y on me he’s made a ’mpress’n,” returned the maid, carelessly. “He makes de same ’mpress’n on eberybody.”
“How d’you know?” asked Mary.
“’Cause I see,” answered the maid.
She turned her eyes on her mistress as she spoke28, and immediately a transformation29 scene was presented. The eyes dwindled30 into slits31 as the cheeks rose, and the serious pout24 became a smile so magnificent that ivory teeth and scarlet32 gums set in ebony alone met the gaze of the beholder33.
“Buttercup,” exclaimed Mary, stamping her little foot firmly, “it’s boiling over!”
She was right. Teeth and gums vanished. The eyes returned, so did the pout, and the pot was whipped off the fire in a twinkling, but not before a mighty34 hiss35 was heard and the head of the black maiden was involved in a cloud of steam and ashes!
“I told you so!” cried Mary, quoting from an ancient Manuscript.
“No, you di’n’t,” retorted her servitor, speaking from the depths of her own consciousness.
We refrain from following the conversation beyond this point, as it became culinary and flat.
Next day Dick Darvall, refreshed—and, owing to some quite inexplicable36 influences, enlivened—mounted Black Polly and started off alone for Traitor’s Trap, leaving his heart and a reputation for cool pluck behind him.
Of course he was particularly watchful37 and circumspect38 on the way up, but saw nothing to call for a further display of either pluck or coolness. On arriving at the cave he found his friends there much as he had left them. Buck Tom, owing to the skilled attentions which he had received from that amateur surgeon, Hunky Ben, and a long refreshing39 sleep—the result of partial relief from pain—was a good deal better; and poor Leather, cheered by the hope thus raised of his friend’s recovery, was himself considerably40 improved in health and spirits.
Fortunately for his own peace of mind, it never seemed to occur to Shank that a return to health meant for Buck Tom, death on the gallows41. Perhaps his own illness had weakened Shank’s powers of thought. It may be, his naturally thoughtless disposition helped to render him oblivious42 of the solemn fact, and no one was cruel enough to remind him of it. But Buck himself never forgot it; yet he betrayed no symptom of despondency, neither did he indicate any degree of hope. He was a man of resolute43 purpose, and had the power of subduing—at least of absolutely concealing—his feelings. To those who nursed him he seemed to be in a state of gentle, colourless resignation.
Charlie Brooke and Hunky Ben, having been out together, had returned well laden45 with game; and Leather was busy at the fire preparing a savoury mess of the same for his sick friend when Dick arrived.
“News from the old country!” he exclaimed, holding up the letters on entering the cave. “Two for Charles Brooke, Esquire, and one for Mister Leather!”
“They might have been more polite to me. Hand it here,” said the latter, endeavouring to conceal44 under a jest his excitement at the sight of a letter from home; for his wild life had cut him off from communication for a very long time.
“One of mine is from old Jacob Crossley,” said Charlie, tearing the letter open with eager interest.
“An’ mine is from sister May,” exclaimed Shank.
If any one had observed Buck Tom at that moment, he would have seen that the outlaw46 started and rose almost up on one elbow, while a deep flush suffused47 his bronzed countenance48. The action and the flush were only momentary49, however he sank down again and turned his face to the wall.
Charlie also started and looked at Shank when the name of May was mentioned, and the eye of Hunky Ben was on him at the moment. But Hunky of course could not interpret the start. He knew little of our hero’s past history—nothing whatever about May. Being a western scout50, no line of his mahogany-looking face indicated that the start aroused a thought of any kind.
While the recipients51 of the letters were busily perusing52 their missives, Dick Darvall gave the scout a brief outline of his expedition to the ranch, reserving the graphic53 narration54 of incidents to a more fitting occasion, when all the party could listen.
“Dick, you’re a trump,” said the scout.
“I’m a lucky fellow, anyhow,” returned Dick.
“In very truth ye are, lad, to escape from such a big bunch o’ Redskins without a scratch; why—”
“Pooh!” interrupted the sailor, “that’s not the luck I’m thinkin’ of. Havin’ overhauled55 Roarin’ Bull an’ his little girl in time to help rescue them, that’s what I call luck—d’ee see?”
Perhaps the scout saw more than was intended, for he probably observed the glad enthusiasm with which the bold seaman mentioned Roaring Bull’s little girl. We cannot tell. His wooden countenance betrayed no sign, and he may have seen nothing; but he was a western scout, and accustomed to take particular note of the smallest signs of the wilderness57.
“Capital—first-rate!” exclaimed Charlie, looking up from his letter when he had finished it.
“Just what I was going to say, or something of the same sort,” said Leather, as he folded his epistle.
“Then there’s nothing but good news?” said Charlie.
“Nothing. I suppose it’s the same with you, to judge from your looks,” returned Shank.
“Exactly. Perhaps,” said Charlie, “it may interest you all to hear my letter. There are no secrets in it, and the gentleman who writes it is a jolly old fellow, Jacob Crossley by name. You know him, Dick, as the owner of the Walrus58, though you’ve never seen him.”
“All right. I remember; fire away,” said Dick.
“It is dated from his office in London,” continued our hero, “and runs thus:—
“My Dear Brooke,—We were all very glad to hear of your safe arrival in New York, and hope that long before this reaches your hand you will have found poor Leather and got him to some place of comfort, where he may recover the health that we have been given to understand he has lost.
“I chanced to be down at Sealford visiting your mother when your letter arrived; hence my knowledge of its contents. Mrs Leather and her daughter May were then as usual. By the way, what a pretty girl May has become! I remember her such a rumpled59 up, dress-anyhow, harum-scarum sort of a girl, that I find it hard to believe the tall, graceful60, modest creature I meet with now is the same person! Captain Stride says she is the finest craft he ever saw, except that wonderful ‘Maggie,’ about whose opinions and sayings he tells us so much.
“But this is a double digression. To return: your letter of course gave us all great pleasure. It also gave your mother and May some anxiety, where it tells of the necessity of your going up to that wild-west place, Traitor’s Trap, where poor Leather is laid up. Take care of yourself, my dear boy, for I’m told that the red savages61 are still given to those roasting, scalping, and other torturing that one has read of in the pages of Fenimore Cooper.
“By the way, before I forget it, let me say, in reference to the enclosed bill, it is a loan which I have obtained for Leather, at very moderate interest, and when more is required more can be obtained on the same terms. Let him understand this, for I don’t wish that he should think, on the one hand, that he is drawing on his mother’s slender resources, or, on the other hand, that he is under obligation to any one. I send the bill because I feel quite sure that you started on this expedition with too little. It is drawn62 in your name, and I think you will be able to cash it at any civilised town—even in the far west!
“Talking of Captain Stride—was I talking of him? Well, no matter. As he is past work now, but thinks himself very far indeed from that condition, I have prevailed on him to accept a new and peculiar post arising out of the curious evolutions of the firm of Withers63 and Company which satisfies the firm completely and suits the captain to a T. As the work can be done anywhere, a residence has been taken for him in Sealford, mid-way between that of your mother and Mrs Leather, so that he and his wife and little girl can run into either port when so disposed. As Mrs L, however (to use his own phraseology), is almost always to be found at anchor in the Brooke harbour, he usually kills both with the same visit. I have not been to see him yet in the new abode64, and do not know what the celebrated65 Maggie thinks of it.
“When you find Leather, poor fellow, tell him that his mother and sister are very well. The former is indefatigable66 in knitting those hundreds of socks and stockings for poor people, about which there has been, and still is, and I think ever will be, so much mystery. The person who buys them from her must be very deep as well as honest, for no inquiries67 ever throw any fresh light on the subject, and he—or she, whichever it is—pays regularly as the worsted work is delivered—so I’m told! It is a little old lady who pays—but I’ve reason to believe that she’s only a go-between—some agent of a society for providing cheap clothing for the poor, I fancy, which the poor stand very much in need of, poor things! Your good mother helps in this work—at least so I am told, but I’m not much up in in the details of it yet. I mean to run down to see them in a few days and hear all about it.
“Stride, I forgot to say, is allowed to smoke a pipe in your mother’s parlour when he pays her a visit. This is so like her amiability68, for she hates tobacco as much as I do. I ventured on a similarly amiable experiment one day when the worthy69 Captain dined with me, but the result was so serious that I have not ventured to repeat it. You remember my worthy housekeeper70, Mrs Bland71? Well, she kicked over the traces and became quite unmanageable. I had given Stride leave to smoke after dessert, because I had a sort of idea that he could nor digest his food without a pipe. You know my feelings with regard to young fellows who try to emulate72 chimneys, so you can understand that my allowing the Captain to indulge was no relaxation73 of my principles, but was the result of a strong objection I had to spoil the dinner of a man who was somewhat older than myself by cramming74 my principles down his throat.
“But the moment that Mrs Bland entered I knew by the glance of her eye, as well as by the sniff75 of her nose, that a storm was brewing76 up—as Stride puts it—and I was not wrong. The storm burst upon me that evening. It’s impossible, and might be tedious, to give you all the conversation that we had after Stride had gone, but the upshot was that she gave me warning.
“‘But, my good woman,’ I began—
“‘It’s of no use good-womaning me, Mr Crossley,’ said she, ‘I couldn’t exist in a ’ouse w’ere smokin’ is allowed. My dear father died of smokin’—at least, if he didn’t, smokin’ must ’ave ’ad somethink to do with it, for after the dear man was gone a pipe an’ a plug of the nasty stuff was found under ’is piller, so I can’t stand it; an’ what’s more, Mr Crossley, I won’t stand it! Just think, sir, ’ow silly it is to put a bit of clay in your mouth an’ draw smoke through it, an’ then to spit it out again as if you didn’t like it; as no more no one does on beginnin’ it, for boys only smoke to look like men, an’ men only smoke because they’ve got up the ’abit an’ can’t ’elp it. W’y, sir, you may git up any ’abit. You may git the ’abit of walkin’ on your ’ands an’ shakin’ your legs in the hair if you was to persevere77 long enough, but that would only prove you a fool fit for a circus or a lunatic asylum78. You never see the hanimals smokin’. They knows better. Just fancy! what would you think if you saw the cab ’osses all a-settin’ on their tails in the rank smokin’ pipes an’ cigars! What would you think of a ’oss w’en ’is cabby cried, “Gee-up, there’s a fare a ’owlin’ for us,” an’ that ’oss would say, “Hall right, cabby, just ’old on, hold man, till I finish my pipe”? No, Mr Crossley, no, I—’
“‘But, my good soul!’ I burst in here, ‘do listen—’
“‘No use good-soulin’ me, Mr Crossley. I tell you I won’t stand it. My dear father died of it, an’ I can’t stand it—’
“‘I hate it, Mrs Bland, myself!’
“I shouted this interruption in such a loud fierce tone that the good woman stopped and looked at me in surprise.
“‘Yes, Mrs Bland,’ I continued, in the same tone, ‘I detest79 smoking. You know I always did, but now more than ever, for your reasoning has convinced me that there are some evil consequences of smoking which are almost worse than smoking itself! Rest assured that never again shall the smell of the noxious80 weed defile81 the walls of this house.’
“‘Lauk, sir!’ said Mrs Bland.
“I had subdued82 her, Charlie, by giving in with dignity. I shall try the same role next breeze that threatens.
“I almost feel that I owe you an apology for the length of this epistle. Let me conclude by urging you to bring poor Leather home, strong and well. Tell him from me that there is a vacant situation in the firm of Withers and Company which will just suit him. He shall have it when he returns—if God spares me to see him again. But I’m getting old, Charlie, and we know not what a day may bring forth83.”
“A kind—a very kind letter,” said Leather earnestly, when his friend had finished reading.
“Why, he writes as if he were your own father, Brooke,” remarked Buck Tom, who had been listening intently. “Have you known him long?”
“Not long. Only since the time that he gave me the appointment of supercargo to the Walrus, but the little I have seen of him has aroused in me a feeling of strong regard.”
“My sister May refers to him here,” said Leather, with a peculiar smile, as he re-opened his letter. “The greater part of this tells chiefly of private affairs which would not interest any of you, but here is a passage which forms a sort of commentary on what you have just heard:—
“‘You will be amused to hear,’ she writes, ‘that good Captain Stride has come to live in Sealford. Kind old Mr Crossley has given him some sort of work connected with Withers and Company’s house which I can neither understand nor describe. Indeed, I am convinced it is merely work got up on purpose by Mr Crossley as an excuse for giving his old friend a salary, for he knows that Captain Stride would be terribly cast down if offered a pension, as that would be equivalent to pronouncing him unfit for further duty, and the Captain will never admit himself to be in that condition till he is dying. Old Jacob Crossley—as you used to call him—thinks himself a very sagacious and “deep” man, but in truth there never was a simpler or more transparent84 one. He thinks that we know nothing about who it is that sends the old lady to buy up all the worsted-work that mother makes, but we know perfectly85 well that it is himself, and dear mother could never have gone on working with satisfaction and receiving the money for it all if we had not found out that he buys it for our fishermen, who are said really to be very much in need of the things she makes.
“‘The dear old man is always doing something kind and considerate in a sly way, under the impression that nobody notices. He little knows the power of woman’s observation! By the way, that reminds me that he is not ignorant of woman’s powers in other ways. We heard yesterday that his old and faithful—though rather trying—housekeeper had quarrelled with him about smoking! We were greatly surprised, for we knew that the old gentleman is not and never was, a smoker86. She threatened to leave, but we have since heard, I am glad to say, that they have made it up!
“H’m! there’s food for meditation87 in all that,” said Dick Darvall, as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put it in his vest pocket.
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1
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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3
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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4
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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8
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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9
provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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10
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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12
buoys
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| n.浮标( buoy的名词复数 )；航标；救生圈；救生衣v.使浮起( buoy的第三人称单数 )；支持；为…设浮标；振奋…的精神 | |
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13
beacons
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| 灯塔( beacon的名词复数 )； 烽火； 指路明灯； 无线电台或发射台 | |
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14
landmarks
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| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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thoroughly
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pouting
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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pout
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| v.撅嘴；绷脸；n.撅嘴；生气，不高兴 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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expressive
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| adj.表现的，表达…的，富于表情的 | |
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hilariously
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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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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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beholder
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| n.观看者，旁观者 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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circumspect
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| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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outlaw
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| n.歹徒，亡命之徒；vt.宣布…为不合法 | |
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suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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recipients
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| adj.接受的；受领的；容纳的；愿意接受的n.收件人；接受者；受领者；接受器 | |
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perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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overhauled
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| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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laconic
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| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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walrus
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| n.海象 | |
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rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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withers
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| 马肩隆 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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emulate
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| v.努力赶上或超越，与…竞争；效仿 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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cramming
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| n.塞满，填鸭式的用功v.塞入( cram的现在分词 )；填塞；塞满；（为考试而）死记硬背功课 | |
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sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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brewing
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| n. 酿造, 一次酿造的量 动词brew的现在分词形式 | |
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persevere
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| v.坚持，坚忍，不屈不挠 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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noxious
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| adj.有害的，有毒的；使道德败坏的，讨厌的 | |
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defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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82
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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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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84
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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85
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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86
smoker
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| n.吸烟者，吸烟车厢，吸烟室 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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