Perhaps it was so likened by the lonely Bargeman, standing6 on the brink7 of the lock. For certain, Bradley Headstone looked that way, when a chill air came up, and when it passed on murmuring, as if it whispered something that made the phantom8 trees and water tremble — or threaten — for fancy might have made it either.
He turned away, and tried the Lock-house door. It was fastened on the inside.
‘Is he afraid of me?’ he muttered, knocking.
Rogue9 Riderhood was soon roused, and soon undrew the bolt and let him in.
‘Why, T’otherest, I thought you had been and got lost! Two nights away! I a’most believed as you’d giv’ me the slip, and I had as good as half a mind for to advertise you in the newspapers to come for’ard.’
Bradley’s face turned so dark on this hint, that Riderhood deemed it expedient10 to soften11 it into a compliment.
‘But not you, governor, not you,’ he went on, stolidly12 shaking his head. ‘For what did I say to myself arter having amused myself with that there stretch of a comic idea, as a sort of a playful game? Why, I says to myself; “He’s a man o’ honour.” That’s what I says to myself. “He’s a man o’ double honour.”’
Very remarkably13, Riderhood put no question to him. He had looked at him on opening the door, and he now looked at him again (stealthily this time), and the result of his looking was, that he asked him no question.
‘You’ll be for another forty on ‘em, governor, as I judges, afore you turns your mind to breakfast,’ said Riderhood, when his visitor sat down, resting his chin on his hand, with his eyes on the ground. And very remarkably again: Riderhood feigned14 to set the scanty15 furniture in order, while he spoke16, to have a show of reason for not looking at him.
‘Yes. I had better sleep, I think,’ said Bradley, without changing his position.
‘I myself should recommend it, governor,’ assented17 Riderhood. ‘Might you be anyways dry?’
‘Yes. I should like a drink,’ said Bradley; but without appearing to attend much.
Mr Riderhood got out his bottle, and fetched his jug-full of water, and administered a potation. Then, he shook the coverlet of his bed and spread it smooth, and Bradley stretched himself upon it in the clothes he wore. Mr Riderhood poetically18 remarking that he would pick the bones of his night’s rest, in his wooden chair, sat in the window as before; but, as before, watched the sleeper19 narrowly until he was very sound asleep. Then, he rose and looked at him close, in the bright daylight, on every side, with great minuteness. He went out to his Lock to sum up what he had seen.
‘One of his sleeves is tore right away below the elber, and the t’other’s had a good rip at the shoulder. He’s been hung on to, pretty tight, for his shirt’s all tore out of the neck-gathers. He’s been in the grass and he’s been in the water. And he’s spotted20, and I know with what, and with whose. Hooroar!’
Bradley slept long. Early in the afternoon a barge5 came down. Other barges21 had passed through, both ways, before it; but the Lock-keeper hailed only this particular barge, for news, as if he had made a time calculation with some nicety. The men on board told him a piece of news, and there was a lingering on their part to enlarge upon it.
Twelve hours had intervened since Bradley’s lying down, when he got up. ‘Not that I swaller it,’ said Riderhood, squinting22 at his Lock, when he saw Bradley coming out of the house, ‘as you’ve been a sleeping all the time, old boy!’
Bradley came to him, sitting on his wooden lever, and asked what o’clock it was? Riderhood told him it was between two and three.
‘When are you relieved?’ asked Bradley.
‘Day arter to-morrow, governor.’
‘Not sooner?’
‘Not a inch sooner, governor.’
On both sides, importance seemed attached to this question of relief. Riderhood quite petted his reply; saying a second time, and prolonging a negative roll of his head, ‘n — n — not a inch sooner, governor.’
‘Did I tell you I was going on to-night?’ asked Bradley.
‘No, governor,’ returned Riderhood, in a cheerful, affable, and conversational23 manner, ‘you did not tell me so. But most like you meant to it and forgot to it. How, otherways, could a doubt have come into your head about it, governor?’
‘As the sun goes down, I intend to go on,’ said Bradley.
‘So much the more necessairy is a Peck,’ returned Riderhood. ‘Come in and have it, T’otherest.’
The formality of spreading a tablecloth24 not being observed in Mr Riderhood’s establishment, the serving of the ‘peck’ was the affair of a moment; it merely consisting in the handing down of a capacious baking dish with three-fourths of an immense meat pie in it, and the production of two pocket-knives, an earthenware25 mug, and a large brown bottle of beer.
Both ate and drank, but Riderhood much the more abundantly. In lieu of plates, that honest man cut two triangular26 pieces from the thick crust of the pie, and laid them, inside uppermost, upon the table: the one before himself, and the other before his guest. Upon these platters he placed two goodly portions of the contents of the pie, thus imparting the unusual interest to the entertainment that each partaker scooped27 out the inside of his plate, and consumed it with his other fare, besides having the sport of pursuing the clots28 of congealed29 gravy30 over the plain of the table, and successfully taking them into his mouth at last from the blade of his knife, in case of their not first sliding off it.
Bradley Headstone was so remarkably awkward at these exercises, that the Rogue observed it.
‘Look out, T’otherest!’ he cried, ‘you’ll cut your hand!’
But, the caution came too late, for Bradley gashed32 it at the instant. And, what was more unlucky, in asking Riderhood to tie it up, and in standing close to him for the purpose, he shook his hand under the smart of the wound, and shook blood over Riderhood’s dress.
When dinner was done, and when what remained of the platters and what remained of the congealed gravy had been put back into what remained of the pie, which served as an economical investment for all miscellaneous savings33, Riderhood filled the mug with beer and took a long drink. And now he did look at Bradley, and with an evil eye.
‘T’otherest!’ he said, hoarsely34, as he bent35 across the table to touch his arm. ‘The news has gone down the river afore you.’
‘What news?’
‘Who do you think,’ said Riderhood, with a hitch36 of his head, as if he disdainfully jerked the feint away, ‘picked up the body? Guess.’
‘I am not good at guessing anything.’
‘She did. Hooroar! You had him there agin. She did.’
The convulsive twitching37 of Bradley Headstone’s face, and the sudden hot humour that broke out upon it, showed how grimly the intelligence touched him. But he said not a single word, good or bad. He only smiled in a lowering manner, and got up and stood leaning at the window, looking through it. Riderhood followed him with his eyes. Riderhood cast down his eyes on his own besprinkled clothes. Riderhood began to have an air of being better at a guess than Bradley owned to being.
‘I have been so long in want of rest,’ said the schoolmaster, ‘that with your leave I’ll lie down again.’
‘And welcome, T’otherest!’ was the hospitable38 answer of his host. He had laid himself down without waiting for it, and he remained upon the bed until the sun was low. When he arose and came out to resume his journey, he found his host waiting for him on the grass by the towing-path outside the door.
‘Whenever it may be necessary that you and I should have any further communication together,’ said Bradley, ‘I will come back. Good-night!’
‘Well, since no better can be,’ said Riderhood, turning on his heel, ‘Good-night!’ But he turned again as the other set forth39, and added under his breath, looking after him with a leer: ‘You wouldn’t be let to go like that, if my Relief warn’t as good as come. I’ll catch you up in a mile.’
In a word, his real time of relief being that evening at sunset, his mate came lounging in, within a quarter of an hour. Not staying to fill up the utmost margin40 of his time, but borrowing an hour or so, to be repaid again when he should relieve his reliever, Riderhood straightway followed on the track of Bradley Headstone.
He was a better follower41 than Bradley. It had been the calling of his life to slink and skulk42 and dog and waylay43, and he knew his calling well. He effected such a forced march on leaving the Lock House that he was close up with him — that is to say, as close up with him as he deemed it convenient to be — before another Lock was passed. His man looked back pretty often as he went, but got no hint of him. HE knew how to take advantage of the ground, and where to put the hedge between them, and where the wall, and when to duck, and when to drop, and had a thousand arts beyond the doomed44 Bradley’s slow conception.
But, all his arts were brought to a standstill, like himself when Bradley, turning into a green lane or riding by the river-side — a solitary45 spot run wild in nettles46, briars, and brambles, and encumbered47 with the scathed48 trunks of a whole hedgerow of felled trees, on the outskirts49 of a little wood — began stepping on these trunks and dropping down among them and stepping on them again, apparently50 as a schoolboy might have done, but assuredly with no schoolboy purpose, or want of purpose.
‘What are you up to?’ muttered Riderhood, down in the ditch, and holding the hedge a little open with both hands. And soon his actions made a most extraordinary reply. ‘By George and the Draggin!’ cried Riderhood, ‘if he ain’t a going to bathe!’
He had passed back, on and among the trunks of trees again, and has passed on to the water-side and had begun undressing on the grass. For a moment it had a suspicious look of suicide, arranged to counterfeit52 accident. ‘But you wouldn’t have fetched a bundle under your arm, from among that timber, if such was your game!’ said Riderhood. Nevertheless it was a relief to him when the bather after a plunge53 and a few strokes came out. ‘For I shouldn’t,’ he said in a feeling manner, ‘have liked to lose you till I had made more money out of you neither.’
Prone54 in another ditch (he had changed his ditch as his man had changed his position), and holding apart so small a patch of the hedge that the sharpest eyes could not have detected him, Rogue Riderhood watched the bather dressing51. And now gradually came the wonder that he stood up, completely clothed, another man, and not the Bargeman.
‘Aha!’ said Riderhood. ‘Much as you was dressed that night. I see. You’re a taking me with you, now. You’re deep. But I knows a deeper.’
When the bather had finished dressing, he kneeled on the grass, doing something with his hands, and again stood up with his bundle under his arm. Looking all around him with great attention, he then went to the river’s edge, and flung it in as far, and yet as lightly as he could. It was not until he was so decidedly upon his way again as to be beyond a bend of the river and for the time out of view, that Riderhood scrambled55 from the ditch.
‘Now,’ was his debate with himself ‘shall I foller you on, or shall I let you loose for this once, and go a fishing?’ The debate continuing, he followed, as a precautionary measure in any case, and got him again in sight. ‘If I was to let you loose this once,’ said Riderhood then, still following, ‘I could make you come to me agin, or I could find you out in one way or another. If I wasn’t to go a fishing, others might. — I’ll let you loose this once, and go a fishing!’ With that, he suddenly dropped the pursuit and turned.
The miserable56 man whom he had released for the time, but not for long, went on towards London. Bradley was suspicious of every sound he heard, and of every face he saw, but was under a spell which very commonly falls upon the shedder of blood, and had no suspicion of the real danger that lurked57 in his life, and would have it yet. Riderhood was much in his thoughts — had never been out of his thoughts since the night-adventure of their first meeting; but Riderhood occupied a very different place there, from the place of pursuer; and Bradley had been at the pains of devising so many means of fitting that place to him, and of wedging him into it, that his mind could not compass the possibility of his occupying any other. And this is another spell against which the shedder of blood for ever strives in vain. There are fifty doors by which discovery may enter. With infinite pains and cunning, he double locks and bars forty-nine of them, and cannot see the fiftieth standing wide open.
Now, too, was he cursed with a state of mind more wearing and more wearisome than remorse58. He had no remorse; but the evildoer who can hold that avenger59 at bay, cannot escape the slower torture of incessantly60 doing the evil deed again and doing it more efficiently61. In the defensive62 declarations and pretended confessions63 of murderers, the pursuing shadow of this torture may be traced through every lie they tell. If I had done it as alleged64, is it conceivable that I would have made this and this mistake? If I had done it as alleged, should I have left that unguarded place which that false and wicked witness against me so infamously65 deposed66 to? The state of that wretch67 who continually finds the weak spots in his own crime, and strives to strengthen them when it is unchangeable, is a state that aggravates68 the offence by doing the deed a thousand times instead of once; but it is a state, too, that tauntingly69 visits the offence upon a sullen70 unrepentant nature with its heaviest punishment every time.
Bradley toiled71 on, chained heavily to the idea of his hatred72 and his vengeance73, and thinking how he might have satiated both in many better ways than the way he had taken. The instrument might have been better, the spot and the hour might have been better chosen. To batter74 a man down from behind in the dark, on the brink of a river, was well enough, but he ought to have been instantly disabled, whereas he had turned and seized his assailant; and so, to end it before chance-help came, and to be rid of him, he had been hurriedly thrown backward into the river before the life was fully31 beaten out of him. Now if it could be done again, it must not be so done. Supposing his head had been held down under water for a while. Supposing the first blow had been truer. Supposing he had been shot. Supposing he had been strangled. Suppose this way, that way, the other way. Suppose anything but getting unchained from the one idea, for that was inexorably impossible.
The school reopened next day. The scholars saw little or no change in their master’s face, for it always wore its slowly labouring expression. But, as he heard his classes, he was always doing the deed and doing it better. As he paused with his piece of chalk at the black board before writing on it, he was thinking of the spot, and whether the water was not deeper and the fall straighter, a little higher up, or a little lower down. He had half a mind to draw a line or two upon the board, and show himself what he meant. He was doing it again and improving on the manner, at prayers, in his mental arithmetic, all through his questioning, all through the day.
Charley Hexam was a master now, in another school, under another head. It was evening, and Bradley was walking in his garden observed from behind a blind by gentle little Miss Peecher, who contemplated76 offering him a loan of her smelling salts for headache, when Mary Anne, in faithful attendance, held up her arm.
‘Yes, Mary Anne?’
‘Young Mr Hexam, if you please, ma’am, coming to see Mr Headstone.’
‘Very good, Mary Anne.’
Again Mary Anne held up her arm.
‘You may speak, Mary Anne?’
‘Mr Headstone has beckoned77 young Mr Hexam into his house, ma’am, and he has gone in himself without waiting for young Mr Hexam to come up, and now HE has gone in too, ma’am, and has shut the door.’
‘With all my heart, Mary Anne.’
Again Mary Anne’s telegraphic arm worked.
‘What more, Mary Anne?’
‘They must find it rather dull and dark, Miss Peecher, for the parlour blind’s down, and neither of them pulls it up.’
‘There is no accounting78,’ said good Miss Peecher with a little sad sigh which she repressed by laying her hand on her neat methodical boddice, ‘there is no accounting for tastes, Mary Anne.’
Charley, entering the dark room, stopped short when he saw his old friend in its yellow shade.
‘Come in, Hexam, come in.’
Charley advanced to take the hand that was held out to him; but stopped again, short of it. The heavy, bloodshot eyes of the schoolmaster, rising to his face with an effort, met his look of scrutiny79.
‘Mr Headstone, what’s the matter?’
‘Matter? Where?’
‘Mr Headstone, have you heard the news? This news about the fellow, Mr Eugene Wrayburn? That he is killed?’
‘He is dead, then!’ exclaimed Bradley.
Young Hexam standing looking at him, he moistened his lips with his tongue, looked about the room, glanced at his former pupil, and looked down. ‘I heard of the outrage,’ said Bradley, trying to constrain80 his working mouth, ‘but I had not heard the end of it.’
‘Where were you,’ said the boy, advancing a step as he lowered his voice, ‘when it was done? Stop! I don’t ask that. Don’t tell me. If you force your confidence upon me, Mr Headstone, I’ll give up every word of it. Mind! Take notice. I’ll give up it, and I’ll give up you. I will!’
The wretched creature seemed to suffer acutely under this renunciation. A desolate81 air of utter and complete loneliness fell upon him, like a visible shade.
‘It’s for me to speak, not you,’ said the boy. ‘If you do, you’ll do it at your peril82. I am going to put your selfishness before you, Mr Headstone — your passionate83, violent, and ungovernable selfishness — to show you why I can, and why I will, have nothing more to do with you.’
He looked at young Hexam as if he were waiting for a scholar to go on with a lesson that he knew by heart and was deadly tired of. But he had said his last word to him.
‘If you had any part — I don’t say what — in this attack,’ pursued the boy; ‘or if you know anything about it — I don’t say how much — or if you know who did it — I go no closer — you did an injury to me that’s never to be forgiven. You know that I took you with me to his chambers84 in the Temple when I told him my opinion of him, and made myself responsible for my opinion of you. You know that I took you with me when I was watching him with a view to recovering my sister and bringing her to her senses; you know that I have allowed myself to be mixed up with you, all through this business, in favouring your desire to marry my sister. And how do you know that, pursuing the ends of your own violent temper, you have not laid me open to suspicion? Is that your gratitude85 to me, Mr Headstone?’
Bradley sat looking steadily86 before him at the vacant air. As often as young Hexam stopped, he turned his eyes towards him, as if he were waiting for him to go on with the lesson, and get it done. As often as the boy resumed, Bradley resumed his fixed87 face.
‘I am going to be plain with you, Mr Headstone,’ said young Hexam, shaking his head in a half-threatening manner, ‘because this is no time for affecting not to know things that I do know — except certain things at which it might not be very safe for you, to hint again. What I mean is this: if you were a good master, I was a good pupil. I have done you plenty of credit, and in improving my own reputation I have improved yours quite as much. Very well then. Starting on equal terms, I want to put before you how you have shown your gratitude to me, for doing all I could to further your wishes with reference to my sister. You have compromised me by being seen about with me, endeavouring to counteract88 this Mr Eugene Wrayburn. That’s the first thing you have done. If my character, and my now dropping you, help me out of that, Mr Headstone, the deliverance is to be attributed to me, and not to you. No thanks to you for it!’
The boy stopping again, he moved his eyes again.
‘I am going on, Mr Headstone, don’t you be afraid. I am going on to the end, and I have told you beforehand what the end is. Now, you know my story. You are as well aware as I am, that I have had many disadvantages to leave behind me in life. You have heard me mention my father, and you are sufficiently89 acquainted with the fact that the home from which I, as I may say, escaped, might have been a more creditable one than it was. My father died, and then it might have been supposed that my way to respectability was pretty clear. No. For then my sister begins.’
He spoke as confidently, and with as entire an absence of any telltale colour in his cheek, as if there were no softening90 old time behind him. Not wonderful, for there WAS none in his hollow empty heart. What is there but self, for selfishness to see behind it?
‘When I speak of my sister, I devoutly91 wish that you had never seen her, Mr Headstone. However, you did see her, and that’s useless now. I confided92 in you about her. I explained her character to you, and how she interposed some ridiculous fanciful notions in the way of our being as respectable as I tried for. You fell in love with her, and I favoured you with all my might. She could not be induced to favour you, and so we came into collision with this Mr Eugene Wrayburn. Now, what have you done? Why, you have justified93 my sister in being firmly set against you from first to last, and you have put me in the wrong again! And why have you done it? Because, Mr Headstone, you are in all your passions so selfish, and so concentrated upon yourself that you have not bestowed94 one proper thought on me.’
The cool conviction with which the boy took up and held his position, could have been derived95 from no other vice96 in human nature.
‘It is,’ he went on, actually with tears, ‘an extraordinary circumstance attendant on my life, that every effort I make towards perfect respectability, is impeded97 by somebody else through no fault of mine! Not content with doing what I have put before you, you will drag my name into notoriety through dragging my sister’s — which you are pretty sure to do, if my suspicions have any foundation at all — and the worse you prove to be, the harder it will be for me to detach myself from being associated with you in people’s minds.’
When he had dried his eyes and heaved a sob98 over his injuries, he began moving towards the door.
‘However, I have made up my mind that I will become respectable in the scale of society, and that I will not be dragged down by others. I have done with my sister as well as with you. Since she cares so little for me as to care nothing for undermining my respectability, she shall go her way and I will go mine. My prospects99 are very good, and I mean to follow them alone. Mr Headstone, I don’t say what you have got upon your conscience, for I don’t know. Whatever lies upon it, I hope you will see the justice of keeping wide and clear of me, and will find a consolation100 in completely exonerating101 all but yourself. I hope, before many years are out, to succeed the master in my present school, and the mistress being a single woman, though some years older than I am, I might even marry her. If it is any comfort to you to know what plans I may work out by keeping myself strictly102 respectable in the scale of society, these are the plans at present occurring to me. In conclusion, if you feel a sense of having injured me, and a desire to make some small reparation, I hope you will think how respectable you might have been yourself and will contemplate75 your blighted103 existence.’
Was it strange that the wretched man should take this heavily to heart? Perhaps he had taken the boy to heart, first, through some long laborious104 years; perhaps through the same years he had found his drudgery105 lightened by communication with a brighter and more apprehensive106 spirit than his own; perhaps a family resemblance of face and voice between the boy and his sister, smote107 him hard in the gloom of his fallen state. For whichsoever reason, or for all, he drooped108 his devoted109 head when the boy was gone, and shrank together on the floor, and grovelled110 there, with the palms of his hands tight-clasping his hot temples, in unutterable misery111, and unrelieved by a single tear.
Rogue Riderhood had been busy with the river that day. He had fished with assiduity on the previous evening, but the light was short, and he had fished unsuccessfully. He had fished again that day with better luck, and had carried his fish home to Plashwater Weir Mill Lock-house, in a bundle.
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1
weir
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| n.堰堤，拦河坝 | |
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spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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5
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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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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7
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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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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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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11
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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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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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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poetically
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| adv.有诗意地，用韵文 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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earthenware
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| n.土器，陶器 | |
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triangular
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| adj.三角（形）的，三者间的 | |
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scooped
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| v.抢先报道( scoop的过去式和过去分词 )；（敏捷地）抱起；抢先获得；用铲[勺]等挖（洞等） | |
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clots
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| n.凝块( clot的名词复数 )；血块；蠢人；傻瓜v.凝固( clot的第三人称单数 ) | |
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congealed
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的过去式和过去分词 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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gravy
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| n.肉汁；轻易得来的钱，外快 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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32
gashed
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| v.划伤，割破( gash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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33
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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34
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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35
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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36
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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37
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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38
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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39
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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40
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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41
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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42
skulk
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| v.藏匿；潜行 | |
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43
waylay
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| v.埋伏，伏击 | |
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44
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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45
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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46
nettles
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| n.荨麻( nettle的名词复数 ) | |
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encumbered
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
scathed
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| v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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50
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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51
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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52
counterfeit
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| vt.伪造，仿造；adj.伪造的，假冒的 | |
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53
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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55
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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57
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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58
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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59
avenger
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| n. 复仇者 | |
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60
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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efficiently
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| adv.高效率地，有能力地 | |
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defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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63
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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infamously
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| 不名誉地 | |
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66
deposed
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| v.罢免( depose的过去式和过去分词 )；（在法庭上）宣誓作证 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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68
aggravates
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| 使恶化( aggravate的第三人称单数 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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tauntingly
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| 嘲笑地，辱骂地； 嘲骂地 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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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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72
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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74
batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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accounting
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| n.会计，会计学，借贷对照表 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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constrain
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| vt.限制，约束；克制，抑制 | |
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81
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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82
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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83
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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84
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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85
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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86
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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87
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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88
counteract
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| vt.对…起反作用，对抗，抵消 | |
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89
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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90
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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91
devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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92
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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93
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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94
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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96
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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97
impeded
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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99
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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100
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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101
exonerating
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| v.使免罪，免除( exonerate的现在分词 ) | |
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102
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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103
blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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104
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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105
drudgery
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| n.苦工，重活，单调乏味的工作 | |
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106
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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107
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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108
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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109
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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110
grovelled
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| v.卑躬屈节，奴颜婢膝( grovel的过去式和过去分词 )；趴 | |
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111
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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