Let strife1 come an she will.
OTWAY.
Deborah Debbitch, summoned by her master, now made her appearance, with her handkerchief at her eyes, and an appearance of great mental trouble. “It was not my fault, Major Bridgenorth,” she said; “how could I help it? like will to like — the boy would come — the girl would see him.”
“Peace, foolish woman,” said Bridgenorth, “and hear what I have got to say.”
“I know what your honour has to say well enough,” said Deborah. “Service, I wot, is no inheritance nowadays — some are wiser than other some — if I had not been wheedled2 away from Martindale, I might have had a house of mine own by this time.”
“Peace, idiot!” said Bridgenorth; but so intent was Deborah on her vindication3, that he could but thrust the interjection, as it were edgewise, between her exclamations4, which followed as thick as is usual in cases, where folks endeavour to avert6 deserved censure7 by a clamorous8 justification9 ere the charge be brought.
“No wonder she was cheated,” she said, “out of sight of her own interest, when it was to wait on pretty Miss Alice. All your honour’s gold should never have tempted10 me, but that I knew she was but a dead castaway, poor innocent, if she were taken away from my lady or me. — And so this is the end on’t! — up early, and down late — and this is all my thanks! — But your honour had better take care what you do — she has the short cough yet sometimes — and should take physic, spring and fall.”
“Peace, chattering11 fool!” said her master, so soon as her failing breath gave him an opportunity to strike in, “thinkest thou I knew not of this young gentleman’s visits to the Black Fort, and that, if they had displeased12 me, I would not have known how to stop them?”
“Did I know that your honour knew of his visits!” exclaimed Deborah, in a triumphant13 tone — for, like most of her condition, she never sought farther for her defence than a lie, however inconsistent and improbable —"Did I know that your honour knew of it! — Why, how should I have permitted his visits else? I wonder what your honour takes me for! Had I not been sure it was the thing in this world that your honour most desired would I have presumed to lend it a hand forward? I trust I know my duty better. Hear if I ever asked another youngster into the house, save himself — for I knew your honour was wise, and quarrels cannot last for ever, and love begins where hatred14 ends; and, to be sure, they love as if they were born one for the other — and then, the estates of Moultrassie and Martindale suit each other like sheath and knife.”
“Parrot of a woman, hold your tongue!” said Bridgenorth, his patience almost completely exhausted15; “or, if you will prate16, let it be to your playfellows in the kitchen, and bid them get ready some dinner presently, for Master Peveril is far from home.”
“That I will, and with all my heart,” said Deborah; “and if there are a pair of fatter fowls17 in Man than shall clap their wings on the table presently, your honour shall call me goose as well as parrot.” She then left the apartment.
“It is to such a woman as that,” said Bridgenorth, looking after her significantly, “that you conceived me to have abandoned the charge of my only child! But enough of this subject — we will walk abroad, if you will, while she is engaged in a province fitter for her understanding.”
So saying, he left the house, accompanied by Julian Peveril, and they were soon walking side by side, as if they had been old acquaintances.
It may have happened to many of our readers, as it has done to ourselves, to be thrown by accident into society with some individual whose claims to what is called a serious character stand considerably18 higher than our own, and with whom, therefore, we have conceived ourselves likely to spend our time in a very stiff and constrained19 manner; while, on the other hand, our destined20 companion may have apprehended21 some disgust from the supposed levity22 and thoughtless gaiety of a disposition23 that when we, with that urbanity and good-humour which is our principal characteristic, have accommodated ourself to our companion, by throwing as much seriousness into our conversation as our habits will admit, he, on the other hand, moved by our liberal example, hath divested24 his manners of part of their austerity; and our conversation has, in consequence, been of that pleasant texture25, betwixt the useful and agreeable, which best resembles “the fairy-web of night and day,” usually called in prose the twilight26. It is probable both parties may, on such occasions, have been the better for their encounter, even if it went no farther than to establish for the time a community of feeling between men, who, separated more perhaps by temper than by principle, are too apt to charge each other with profane27 frivolity28 on the one hand, or fanaticism29 on the other.
It fared thus in Peveril’s walk with Bridgenorth, and in the conversation which he held with him.
Carefully avoiding the subject on which he had already spoken, Major Bridgenorth turned his conversation chiefly on foreign travel, and on the wonders he had seen in distant countries, and which he appeared to have marked with a curious and observant eye. This discourse31 made the time fly light away; for although the anecdotes32 and observations thus communicated were all tinged33 with the serious and almost gloomy spirit of the narrator, they yet contained traits of interest and of wonder, such as are usually interesting to a youthful ear, and were particularly so to Julian, who had, in his disposition, some cast of the romantic and adventurous34.
It appeared that Bridgenorth knew the south of France, and could tell many stories of the French Huguenots, who already began to sustain those vexations which a few years afterwards were summed up by the revocation36 of the Edict of Nantz. He had even been in Hungary, for he spoke30 as from personal knowledge of the character of several of the heads of the great Protestant insurrection, which at this time had taken place under the celebrated37 Tekeli; and laid down solid reasons why they were entitled to make common cause with the Great Turk, rather than submit to the Pope of Rome. He talked also of Savoy, where those of the reformed religion still suffered a cruel persecution38; and he mentioned with a swelling39 spirit, the protection which Oliver had afforded to the oppressed Protestant Churches; “therein showing himself,” he added, “more fit to wield40 the supreme41 power, than those who, claiming it by right of inheritance, use it only for their own vain and voluptuous42 pursuits.”
“I did not expect,” said Peveril modestly, “to have heard Oliver’s panegyric43 from you, Master Bridgenorth.”
“I do not panegyrise him,” answered Bridgenorth; “I speak but truth of that extraordinary man, now being dead, whom, when alive, I feared not to withstand to his face. It is the fault of the present unhappy King, if he make us look back with regret to the days when the nation was respected abroad, and when devotion and sobriety were practised at home. — But I mean not to vex35 your spirit by controversy44. You have lived amongst those who find it more easy and more pleasant to be the pensioners45 of France than her controllers — to spend the money which she doles46 out to themselves, than to check the tyranny with which she oppresses our poor brethren of the religion. When the scales shall fall from thine eyes, all this thou shalt see; and seeing, shalt learn to detest47 and despise it.”
By this time they had completed their walk, and were returned to the Black Fort, by a different path from that which had led them up the valley. The exercise and the general tone of conversation had removed, in some degree, the shyness and embarrassment48 which Peveril originally felt in Bridgenorth’s presence and which the tenor49 of his first remarks had rather increased than diminished. Deborah’s promised banquet was soon on the board; and in simplicity50 as well as neatness and good order, answered the character she had claimed for it. In one respect alone, there seemed some inconsistency, perhaps a little affectation. Most of the dishes were of silver, and the plates were of the same metal; instead of the trenchers and pewter which Peveril had usually seen employed on similar occasions at the Black Fort.
Presently, with the feeling of one who walks in a pleasant dream from which he fears to awake, and whose delight is mingled51 with wonder and with uncertainty52, Julian Peveril found himself seated between Alice Bridgenorth and her father — the being he most loved on earth, and the person whom he had ever considered as the great obstacle to their intercourse53. The confusion of his mind was such, that he could scarcely reply to the importunate54 civilities of Dame55 Deborah; who, seated with them at table in her quality of governante, now dispensed56 the good things which had been prepared under her own eye.
As for Alice she seemed to have found a resolution to play the mute; for she answered not, excepting briefly57, to the questions of Dame Debbitch; nay58, even when her father, which happened once or twice, attempted to bring her forward in the conversation, she made no further reply than respect for him rendered absolutely necessary.
Upon Bridgenorth himself, then, devolved the task of entertaining the company; and contrary to his ordinary habits, he did not seem to shrink from it. His discourse was not only easy, but almost cheerful, though ever and anon crossed by some expressions indicative of natural and habitual59 melancholy60, or prophetic of future misfortune and woe61. Flashes of enthusiasm, too, shot along his conversation, gleaming like the sheet-lightening of an autumn eve, which throws a strong, though momentary62 illumination, across the sober twilight, and all the surrounding objects, which, touched by it, assume a wilder and more striking character. In general, however, Bridgenorth’s remarks were plain and sensible; and as he aimed at no graces of language, any ornament63 which they received arose out of the interest with which they were impressed on his hearers. For example, when Deborah, in the pride and vulgarity of her heart, called Julian’s attention to the plate from which they had been eating, Bridgenorth seemed to think an apology necessary for such superfluous64 expense.
“It was a symptom,” he said, “of approaching danger, when such men, as were not usually influenced by the vanities of life employed much money in ornaments65 composed of the precious metals. It was a sign that the merchant could not obtain a profit for the capital, which, for the sake of security, he invested in this inert66 form. It was a proof that the noblemen or gentlemen feared the rapacity67 of power, when they put their wealth into forms the most portable and the most capable of being hidden; and it showed the uncertainty of credit, when a man of judgment68 preferred the actual possession of a mass of a silver to the convenience of a goldsmith’s or a banker’s receipt. While a shadow of liberty remained,” he said, “domestic rights were last invaded; and, therefore, men disposed upon their cupboards and tables the wealth which in these places would remain longest, though not perhaps finally, sacred from the grasp of a tyrannical government. But let there be a demand for capital to support a profitable commerce, and the mass is at once consigned69 to the furnace, and, ceasing to be a vain and cumbrous ornament of the banquet, becomes a potent70 and active agent for furthering the prosperity of the country.”
“In war, too,” said Peveril, “plate has been found a ready resource.”
“But too much so,” answered Bridgenorth. “In the late times, the plate of the nobles and gentry71, with that of the colleges, and the sale of the crown-jewels, enabled the King to make his unhappy stand, which prevented matters returning to a state of peace and good order, until the sword had attained72 an undue73 superiority both over King and Parliament.”
He looked at Julian as he spoke, much as he who proves a horse offers some object suddenly to his eyes, then watches to see if he starts or blenches74 from it. But Julian’s thoughts were too much bent75 on other topics to manifest any alarm. His answer referred to a previous part of Bridgenorth’s discourse, and was not returned till after a brief pause. “War, then,” he said, “war, the grand impoverisher, is also a creator of wealth which it wastes and devours76?”
“Yes,” replied Bridgenorth, “even as the sluice77 brings into action the sleeping waters of the lake, which it finally drains. Necessity invents arts and discovers means; and what necessity is sterner than that of civil war? Therefore, even war is not in itself unmixed evil, being the creator of impulses and energies which could not otherwise have existed in society.”
“Men should go to war, then,” said Peveril, “that they may send their silver plate to the mint, and eat from pewter dishes and wooden plates?”
“Not so, my son,” said Bridgenorth. Then checking himself as he observed the deep crimson78 in Julian’s cheek and brow, he added, “I crave79 your pardon for such familiarity; but I meant not to limit what I said even now to such trifling80 consequences, although it may be something salutary to tear men from their pomps and luxuries, and teach those to be Romans who would otherwise be Sybarites. But I would say, that times of public danger, as they call into circulation the miser’s hoard81 and the proud man’s bullion82, and so add to the circulating wealth of the country, do also call into action many a brave and noble spirit, which would otherwise lie torpid83, give no example to the living, and bequeath no name to future ages. Society knows not, and cannot know, the mental treasures which slumber84 in her bosom85, till necessity and opportunity call forth86 the statesman and the soldier from the shades of lowly life to the parts they are designed by Providence87 to perform, and the stations which nature had qualified88 them to hold. So rose Oliver — so rose Milton — so rose many another name which cannot be forgotten — even as the tempest summons forth and displays the address of the mariner89.”
“You speak,” said Peveril, “as if national calamity90 might be, in some sort, an advantage.”
“And if it were not so,” replied Bridgenorth, “it had not existed in this state of trial, where all temporal evil is alleviated91 by something good in its progress or result, and where all that is good is close coupled with that which is in itself evil.”
“It must be a noble sight,” said Julian, “to behold92 the slumbering93 energies of a great mind awakened94 into energy, and to see it assume the authority which is its due over spirits more meanly endowed.”
“I once witnessed,” said Bridgenorth, “something to the same effect; and as the tale is brief, I will tell it you, if you will:—
“Amongst my wanderings, the Transatlantic settlements have not escaped me; more especially the country of New England, into which our native land has shaken from her lap, as a drunkard flings from him his treasures, so much that is precious in the eyes of God and of His children. There thousands of our best and most godly men — such whose righteousness might come of cities — are content to be the inhabitants of the desert, rather encountering the unenlightened savages95, than stooping to extinguish, under the oppression practised in Britain, the light that is within their own minds. There I remained for a time, during the wars which the colony maintained with Philip, a great Indian Chief, or Sachem, as they were called, who seemed a messenger sent from Satan to buffet96 them. His cruelty was great — his dissimulation97 profound; and the skill and promptitude with which he maintained a destructive and desultory98 warfare99, inflicted100 many dreadful calamities101 on the settlement. I was, by chance, at a small village in the woods, more than thirty miles from Boston, and in its situation exceedingly lonely, and surrounded with thickets102. Nevertheless, there was no idea of any danger from the Indians at that time, for men trusted to the protection of a considerable body of troops who had taken the field for protection of the frontiers, and who lay, or were supposed to lie, betwixt the hamlet and the enemy’s country. But they had to do with a foe103, whom the devil himself had inspired at once with cunning and cruelty. It was on a Sabbath morning, when we had assembled to take sweet counsel together in the Lord’s house. Our temple was but constructed of wooden logs; but when shall the chant of trained hirelings, or the sounding of tin and brass104 tubes amid the aisles105 of a minster, arise so sweetly to Heaven, as did the psalm107 in which we united at once our voices and our hearts! An excellent worthy108, who now sleeps in the Lord, Nehemia Solsgrace, long the companion of my pilgrimage, had just begun to wrestle109 in prayer, when a woman, with disordered looks and dishevelled hair, entered our chapel110 in a distracted manner, screaming incessantly111, ‘The Indians! The Indians!’— In that land no man dares separate himself from his means of defence; and whether in the city or in the field, in the ploughed land or the forest, men keep beside them their weapons, as did the Jews at the rebuilding of the Temple. So we sallied forth with our guns and pikes, and heard the whoop112 of these incarnate113 devils, already in possession of a part of the town, and exercising their cruelty on the few whom weighty causes or indisposition had withheld114 from public worship; and it was remarked as a judgment, that, upon that bloody115 Sabbath, Adrian Hanson, a Dutchman, a man well enough disposed towards man, but whose mind was altogether given to worldly gain, was shot and scalped as he was summing his weekly gains in his warehouse116. In fine, there was much damage done; and although our arrival and entrance into combat did in some sort put them back, yet being surprised and confused, and having no appointed leader of our band, the devilish enemy shot hard at us and had some advantage. It was pitiful to hear the screams of women and children amid the report of guns and the whistling of bullets, mixed with the ferocious117 yells of these savages, which they term their war-whoop. Several houses in the upper part of the village were soon on fire; and the roaring of the flames, and crackling of the great beams as they blazed, added to the horrible confusion; while the smoke which the wind drove against us gave farther advantage to the enemy, who fought as it were, invisible, and under cover, whilst we fell fast by their unerring fire. In this state of confusion, and while we were about to adopt the desperate project of evacuating118 the village, and, placing the women and children in the centre, of attempting a retreat to the nearest settlement, it pleased Heaven to send us unexpected assistance. A tall man, of a reverend appearance, whom no one of us had ever seen before, suddenly was in the midst of us, as we hastily agitated119 the resolution of retreating. His garments were of the skin of the elk120, and he wore sword and carried gun; I never saw anything more august than his features, overshadowed by locks of grey hair, which mingled with a long beard of the same colour. ‘Men and brethren,’ he said, in a voice like that which turns back the flight, ‘why sink your hearts? and why are you thus disquieted121? Fear ye that the God we serve will give you up to yonder heathen dogs? Follow me, and you shall see this day that there is a captain in Israel!’ He uttered a few brief but distinct orders, in a tone of one who was accustomed to command; and such was the influence of his appearance, his mien122, his language, and his presence of mind, that he was implicitly123 obeyed by men who had never seen him until that moment. We were hastily divided, by his orders, into two bodies; one of which maintained the defence of the village with more courage than ever, convinced that the Unknown was sent by God to our rescue. At his command they assumed the best and most sheltered positions for exchanging their deadly fire with the Indians; while, under cover of the smoke, the stranger sallied from the town, at the head of the other division of the New England men, and, fetching a circuit, attacked the Red Warriors124 in the rear. The surprise, as is usual amongst savages, had complete effect; for they doubted not that they were assailed125 in their turn, and placed betwixt two hostile parties by the return of a detachment from the provincial126 army. The heathens fled in confusion, abandoning the half-won village, and leaving behind them such a number of their warriors, that the tribe hath never recovered its loss. Never shall I forget the figure of our venerable leader, when our men, and not they only, but the women and children of the village, rescued from the tomahawk and scalping-knife, stood crowded around him, yet scarce venturing to approach his person, and more minded, perhaps, to worship him as a descended127 angel, than to thank him as a fellow-mortal. ‘Not unto me be the glory,’ he said; ‘I am but an implement128, frail129 as yourselves, in the hand of Him who is strong to deliver. Bring me a cup of water, that I may allay130 my parched131 throat, ere I essay the task of offering thanks where they are most due.’ I was nearest to him as he spoke, and I gave into his hand the water he requested. At that moment we exchanged glances, and it seemed to me that I recognised a noble friend whom I had long since deemed in glory; but he gave me no time to speak, had speech been prudent132. Sinking on his knees, and signing us to obey him, he poured forth a strong and energetic thanksgiving for the turning back of the battle, which, pronounced with a voice loud and clear as a war-trumpet, thrilled through the joints133 and marrow134 of the hearers. I have heard many an act of devotion in my life, had Heaven vouchsafed135 me grace to profit by them; but such a prayer as this, uttered amid the dead and the dying, with a rich tone of mingled triumph and adoration136, was beyond them all — it was like the song of the inspired prophetess who dwelt beneath the palm-tree between Ramah and Bethel. He was silent; and for a brief space we remained with our faces bent to the earth — no man daring to lift his head. At length we looked up, but our deliverer was no longer amongst us; nor was he ever again seen in the land which he had rescued.”
Here Bridgenorth, who had told this singular story with an eloquence137 and vivacity138 of detail very contrary to the usual dryness of his conversation, paused for an instant, and then resumed —“Thou seest, young man, that men of valour and of discretion139 are called forth to command in circumstances of national exigence, though their very existence is unknown in the land which they are predestined to deliver.”
“But what thought the people of the mysterious stranger?” said Julian, who had listened with eagerness, for the story was of a kind interesting to the youthful and the brave.
“Many things,” answered Bridgenorth, “and, as usual, little to the purpose. The prevailing140 opinion was, notwithstanding his own disclamation, that the stranger was really a supernatural being; others believed him an inspired champion, transported in the body from some distant climate, to show us the way to safety; others, again, concluded that he was a recluse141, who, either from motives142 of piety143, or other cogent144 reasons, had become a dweller145 in the wilderness146, and shunned147 the face of man.”
“And, if I may presume to ask,” said Julian, “to which of these opinions were you disposed to adhere?”
“The last suited best with the transient though close view with which I had perused148 the stranger’s features,” replied Bridgenorth; “for although I dispute not that it may please Heaven, on high occasions, even to raise one from the dead in defence of his country, yet I doubted not then, as I doubt not now, that I looked on the living form of one, who had indeed powerful reasons to conceal149 him in the cleft150 of the rock.”
“Are these reasons a secret?” said Julian Peveril.
“Not properly a secret,” replied Bridgenorth; “for I fear not thy betraying what I might tell thee in private discourse; and besides, wert thou so base, the prey151 lies too distant for any hunters to whom thou couldst point out its traces. But the name of this worthy will sound harsh in thy ear, on account of one action of his life — being his accession to a great measure, which made the extreme isles106 of the earth to tremble. Have you never heard of Richard Whalley?”
“Of the regicide?” exclaimed Peveril, starting.
“Call his act what thou wilt,” said Bridgenorth; “he was not less the rescuer of that devoted152 village, that, with other leading spirits of the age, he sat in the judgment-seat when Charles Stewart was arraigned153 at the bar, and subscribed154 the sentence that went forth upon him.”
“I have ever heard,” said Julian, in an altered voice, and colouring deeply, “that you, Master Bridgenorth, with other Presbyterians, were totally averse155 to that detestable crime, and were ready to have made joint-cause with the Cavaliers in preventing so horrible a parricide156.”
“If it were so,” said Bridgenorth, “we have been richly rewarded by his successor.”
“Rewarded!” exclaimed Julian; “does the distinction of good and evil, and our obligation to do the one and forbear the other, depend on the reward which may attach to our actions?”
“God forbid,” answered Bridgenorth; “yet those who view the havoc157 which this house of Stewart have made in the Church and State — the tyranny which they exercise over men’s persons and consciences — may well doubt whether it be lawful158 to use weapons in their defence. Yet you hear me not praise, or even vindicate159 the death of the King, though so far deserved, as he was false to his oath as a Prince and Magistrate160. I only tell you what you desired to know, that Richard Whalley, one of the late King’s judges, was he of whom I have just been speaking. I knew his lofty brow, though time had made it balder and higher; his grey eye retained all its lustre161; and though the grizzled beard covered the lower part of his face, it prevented me not from recognising him. The scent162 was hot after him for his blood; but by the assistance of those friends whom Heaven had raised up for his preservation163, he was concealed164 carefully, and emerged only to do the will of Providence in the matter of that battle. Perhaps his voice may be heard in the field once more, should England need one of her noblest hearts.”
“Now, God forbid!” said Julian.
“Amen,” returned Bridgenorth. “May God avert civil war, and pardon those whose madness would bring it on us!”
There was a long pause, during which Julian, who had scarce lifted his eyes towards Alice, stole a glance in that direction, and was struck by the deep cast of melancholy which had stolen over features, to which a cheerful, if not gay expression, was most natural. So soon as she caught his eye, she remarked, and, as Julian thought, with significance, that the shadows were lengthening165, and evening coming on.
He heard; and although satisfied that she hinted at his departure, he could not, upon the instant, find resolution to break the spell which detained him. The language which Bridgenorth held was not only new and alarming, but so contrary to the maxims166 in which he was brought up, that, as a son of Sir Geoffrey Peveril of the Peak, he would, in another case, have thought himself called upon to dispute its conclusions, even at the sword’s point. But Bridgenorth’s opinions were delivered with so much calmness — seemed so much the result of conviction — that they excited in Julian rather a spirit of wonder, than of angry controversy. There was a character of sober decision, and sedate167 melancholy, in all that he said, which, even had he not been the father of Alice (and perhaps Julian was not himself aware how much he was influenced by that circumstance), would have rendered it difficult to take personal offence. His language and sentiments were of that quiet, yet decided168 kind, upon which it is difficult either to fix controversy, or quarrel, although it be impossible to acquiesce169 in the conclusions to which they lead.
While Julian remained, as if spell-bound to his chair, scarce more surprised at the company in which he found himself, than at the opinions to which he was listening, another circumstance reminded him that the proper time of his stay at Black Fort had been expended170. Little Fairy, the Manx pony171, which, well accustomed to the vicinity of Black Fort, used to feed near the house while her master made his visits there, began to find his present stay rather too long. She had been the gift of the Countess to Julian, whilst a youth, and came of a high-spirited mountain breed, remarkable172 alike for hardiness173, for longevity174, and for a degree of sagacity approaching to that of the dog. Fairy showed the latter quality, by the way in which she chose to express her impatience175 to be moving homewards. At least such seemed the purpose of the shrill176 neigh with which she startled the female inmates177 of the parlour, who, the moment afterwards, could not forbear smiling to see the nose of the pony advanced through the opened casement178.
“Fairy reminds me,” said Julian, looking to Alice, and rising, “that the term of my stay here is exhausted.”
“Speak with me yet one moment,” said Bridgenorth, withdrawing him into a Gothic recess179 of the old-fashioned apartment, and speaking so low that he could not be overheard by Alice and her governante, who, in the meantime, caressed180, and fed with fragments of bread the intruder Fairy.
“You have not, after all,” said Bridgenorth, “told me the cause of your coming hither.” He stopped, as if to enjoy his embarrassment, and then added, “And indeed it were most unnecessary that you should do so. I have not so far forgotten the days of my youth, or those affections which bind181 poor frail humanity but too much to the things of this world. Will you find no words to ask of me the great boon182 which you seek, and which, peradventure, you would not have hesitated to have made your own, without my knowledge, and against my consent? — Nay, never vindicate thyself, but mark me farther. The patriarch bought his beloved by fourteen years’ hard service to her father Laban, and they seemed to him but as a few days. But he that would wed5 my daughter must serve, in comparison, but a few days; though in matters of such mighty183 import, that they shall seem as the service of many years. Reply not to me now, but go, and peace be with you.”
He retired184 so quickly, after speaking, that Peveril had literally185 not an instant to reply. He cast his eyes around the apartment, but Deborah and her charge had also disappeared. His gaze rested for a moment on the portrait of Christian186, and his imagination suggested that his dark features were illuminated187 by a smile of haughty188 triumph. He stared, and looked more attentively189 — it was but the effect of the evening beam, which touched the picture at the instant. The effect was gone, and there remained but the fixed190, grave, inflexible191 features of the republican soldier.
Julian left the apartment as one who walks in a dream; he mounted Fairy, and, agitated by a variety of thoughts, which he was unable to reduce to order, he returned to Castle Rushin before the night sat down.
Here he found all in movement. The Countess, with her son, had, upon some news received, or resolution formed, during his absence, removed, with a principal part of their family, to the yet stronger Castle of Holm-Peel, about eight miles’ distance across the island; and which had been suffered to fall into a much more dilapidated condition than that of Castletown, so far as it could be considered as a place of residence. But as a fortress192, Holm-Peel was stronger than Castletown; nay, unless assailed regularly, was almost impregnable; and was always held by a garrison193 belonging to the Lords of Man. Here Peveril arrived at nightfall. He was told in the fishing-village, that the night-bell of the Castle had been rung earlier than usual, and the watch set with circumstances of unusual and jealous repetition.
Resolving, therefore, not to disturb the garrison by entering at that late hour, he obtained an indifferent lodging194 in the town for the night, and determined195 to go to the Castle early on the succeeding morning. He was not sorry thus to gain a few hours of solitude196, to think over the agitating197 events of the preceding day.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
strife
|
|
| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
wheedled
|
|
| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
vindication
|
|
| n.洗冤，证实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
exclamations
|
|
| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
wed
|
|
| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
avert
|
|
| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
censure
|
|
| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
clamorous
|
|
| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
justification
|
|
| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
tempted
|
|
| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
chattering
|
|
| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
triumphant
|
|
| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
prate
|
|
| v.瞎扯，胡说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
fowls
|
|
| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
considerably
|
|
| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
constrained
|
|
| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
apprehended
|
|
| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
levity
|
|
| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
disposition
|
|
| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
divested
|
|
| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
texture
|
|
| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
profane
|
|
| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
frivolity
|
|
| n.轻松的乐事，兴高采烈；轻浮的举止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
fanaticism
|
|
| n.狂热，盲信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
anecdotes
|
|
| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
tinged
|
|
| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
adventurous
|
|
| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
vex
|
|
| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
revocation
|
|
| n.废止，撤回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
persecution
|
|
| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
wield
|
|
| vt.行使，运用，支配；挥，使用(武器等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
voluptuous
|
|
| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
panegyric
|
|
| n.颂词，颂扬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
controversy
|
|
| n.争论，辩论，争吵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
pensioners
|
|
| n.领取退休、养老金或抚恤金的人( pensioner的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
doles
|
|
| 救济物( dole的名词复数 )； 失业救济金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
detest
|
|
| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
tenor
|
|
| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
simplicity
|
|
| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
importunate
|
|
| adj.强求的；纠缠不休的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
dame
|
|
| n.女士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
dispensed
|
|
| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
woe
|
|
| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
ornament
|
|
| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
superfluous
|
|
| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
ornaments
|
|
| 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 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
inert
|
|
| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
rapacity
|
|
| n.贪婪，贪心，劫掠的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
consigned
|
|
| v.把…置于（令人不快的境地）( consign的过去式和过去分词 )；把…托付给；把…托人代售；丟弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
potent
|
|
| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
gentry
|
|
| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
attained
|
|
| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
undue
|
|
| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
blenches
|
|
| vi.（因惊吓而）退缩，惊悸（blench的第三人称单数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
devours
|
|
| 吞没( devour的第三人称单数 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
sluice
|
|
| n.水闸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
crimson
|
|
| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
crave
|
|
| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
hoard
|
|
| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
bullion
|
|
| n.金条，银条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
torpid
|
|
| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
slumber
|
|
| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
qualified
|
|
| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
mariner
|
|
| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
calamity
|
|
| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
alleviated
|
|
| 减轻，缓解，缓和( alleviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
behold
|
|
| v.看，注视，看到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
slumbering
|
|
| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
savages
|
|
| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
buffet
|
|
| n.自助餐；饮食柜台；餐台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
dissimulation
|
|
| n.掩饰，虚伪，装糊涂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
desultory
|
|
| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
warfare
|
|
| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
inflicted
|
|
| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
calamities
|
|
| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
foe
|
|
| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
aisles
|
|
| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
isles
|
|
| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
psalm
|
|
| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
wrestle
|
|
| vi.摔跤，角力；搏斗；全力对付 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
incessantly
|
|
| ad.不停地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
whoop
|
|
| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
incarnate
|
|
| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
withheld
|
|
| withhold过去式及过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
bloody
|
|
| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
warehouse
|
|
| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
ferocious
|
|
| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
evacuating
|
|
| 撤离，疏散( evacuate的现在分词 )； 排空（胃肠），排泄（粪便）； （从危险的地方）撤出，搬出，撤空 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
elk
|
|
| n.麋鹿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
disquieted
|
|
| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
mien
|
|
| n.风采；态度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
implicitly
|
|
| adv. 含蓄地, 暗中地, 毫不保留地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
warriors
|
|
| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
implement
|
|
| n.(pl.)工具，器具；vt.实行，实施，执行 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
frail
|
|
| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
allay
|
|
| v.消除，减轻(恐惧、怀疑等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
parched
|
|
| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
joints
|
|
| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
marrow
|
|
| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
adoration
|
|
| n.爱慕，崇拜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
vivacity
|
|
| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
discretion
|
|
| n.谨慎；随意处理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
prevailing
|
|
| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
recluse
|
|
| n.隐居者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
cogent
|
|
| adj.强有力的，有说服力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
dweller
|
|
| n.居住者，住客 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
wilderness
|
|
| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
shunned
|
|
| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
perused
|
|
| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
conceal
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
cleft
|
|
| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
arraigned
|
|
| v.告发( arraign的过去式和过去分词 )；控告；传讯；指责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
subscribed
|
|
| v.捐助( subscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
averse
|
|
| adj.厌恶的；反对的，不乐意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
parricide
|
|
| n.杀父母；杀亲罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
havoc
|
|
| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
lawful
|
|
| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
vindicate
|
|
| v.为…辩护或辩解，辩明；证明…正确 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
magistrate
|
|
| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
lustre
|
|
| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
scent
|
|
| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
preservation
|
|
| n.保护，维护，保存，保留，保持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
lengthening
|
|
| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
maxims
|
|
| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
sedate
|
|
| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
decided
|
|
| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
acquiesce
|
|
| vi.默许，顺从，同意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
expended
|
|
| v.花费( expend的过去式和过去分词 )；使用（钱等）做某事；用光；耗尽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
remarkable
|
|
| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
hardiness
|
|
| n.耐劳性，强壮；勇气，胆子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
longevity
|
|
| n.长命；长寿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
inmates
|
|
| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
casement
|
|
| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
caressed
|
|
| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
bind
|
|
| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
boon
|
|
| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
Christian
|
|
| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
attentively
|
|
| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
inflexible
|
|
| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
fortress
|
|
| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
garrison
|
|
| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
solitude
|
|
| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
agitating
|
|
| 搅动( agitate的现在分词 )； 激怒； 使焦虑不安； （尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而）激烈争论 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |