When Rosamund and Lionel, brought in the wake of the corsair, found themselves in the spacious4 courtyard beyond the dark and narrow entrance, the blue of the sky contained but the paling embers of the dying day, and suddenly, sharply upon the evening stillness, came a mueddin’s voice calling the faithful unto prayer.
Slaves fetched water from the fountain that played in the middle of the quadrangle and tossed aloft a slender silvery spear of water to break into a myriad6 gems7 and so shower down into the broad marble basin. Sakr-el-Bahr washed, as did his followers8, and then he went down upon the praying-mat that had been set for him, whilst his corsairs detached their cloaks and spread them upon the ground to serve them in like stead.
The Nubians turned the two slaves about, lest their glances should defile10 the orisons of the faithful, and left them so facing the wall and the green gate that led into the garden whence were wafted11 on the cooling air the perfumes of jessamine and lavender. Through the laths of the gate they might have caught a glimpse of the riot of colour there, and they might have seen the slaves arrested by the Persian waterwheel at which they had been toiling13 and chanting until the call to prayer had come to strike them into statues.
Sakr-el-Bahr rose from his devotions, uttered a sharp word of command, and entered the house. The Nubians followed him, urging their captives before them up the narrow stairs, and so brought them out upon the terrace on the roof, that space which in Eastern houses is devoted14 to the women, but which no woman’s foot had ever trodden since this house had been tenanted by Sakr-el-Bahr the wifeless.
This terrace, which was surrounded by a parapet some four feet high, commanded a view of the city straggling up the hillside to eastward15, from the harbour and of the island at the end of the mole17 which had been so laboriously18 built by the labour of Christian19 slaves from the stones of the ruined fortress20 — the Pe?on, which Kheyr-ed-Din Barbarossa had wrested21 from the Spaniards. The deepening shroud22 of evening was now upon all, transmuting23 white and yellow walls alike to a pearly greyness. To westward24 stretched the fragrant25 gardens of the house, where the doves were murmuring fondly among the mulberries and lotus trees. Beyond it a valley wound its way between the shallow hills, and from a pool fringed with sedges and bullrushes above which a great stork26 was majestically27 sailing came the harsh croak28 of frogs.
An awning29 supported upon two gigantic spears hung out from the southern wall of the terrace which rose to twice the height of that forming the parapet on its other three sides. Under this was a divan30 and silken cushions, and near it a small Moorish31 table of ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold. Over the opposite parapet, where a lattice had been set, rioted a trailing rose-tree charged with blood-red blossoms, though now their colours were merged32 into the all-encompassing greyness.
Here Lionel and Rosamund looked at each other in the dim light, their faces gleaming ghostly each to each, whilst the Nubians stood like twin statues by the door that opened from the stair-head.
The man groaned34, and clasped his hands before him. The doublet which had been torn from him in the s?k had since been restored and temporarily repaired by a strand35 of palmetto cord. But he was woefully bedraggled. Yet his thoughts, if his first words are to be taken as an indication of them were for Rosamund’s condition rather than his own.
“O God, that you should be subjected to this!” he cried. “That you should have suffered what you have suffered! The humiliation36 of it, the barbarous cruelty! Oh!” He covered his haggard face with his hands.
She touched him gently on the arm.
“What I have suffered is but a little thing,” she said, and her voice was wonderfully steady and soothing37. Have I not said that these Godolphins were brave folk? Even their women were held to have something of the male spirit in their breasts; and to this none can doubt that Rosamund now bore witness. “Do not pity me, Lionel, for my sufferings are at an end or very nearly.” She smiled strangely, the smile of exaltation that you may see upon the martyr38’s face in the hour of doom39.
“How?” quoth he, in faint surprise.
“How?” she echoed. “Is there not always a way to thrust aside life’s burden when it grows too heavy — heavier than God would have us bear?”
His only answer was a groan33. Indeed, he had done little but groan in all the hours they had spent together since they were brought ashore40 from the carack; and had the season permitted her so much reflection, she might have considered that she had found him singularly wanting during those hours of stress when a man of worth would have made some effort, however desperate, to enhearten her rather than repine upon his own plight41.
Slaves entered bearing four enormous flaming torches which they set in iron sconces protruding42 from the wall of the house. Thence they shed a lurid43 ruddy glow upon the terrace. The slaves departed again, and presently, in the black gap of the doorway44 between the Nubians, a third figure appeared unheralded. It was Sakr-el-Bahr.
He stood a moment at gaze, his attitude haughty45, his face expressionless; then slowly he advanced. He was dressed in a short white caftan that descended46 to his knees, and was caught about his waist in a shimmering47 girdle of gold that quivered like fire in the glow of the torches as he moved. His arms from the elbow and his legs from the knee were bare, and his feet were shod with gold-embroidered red Turkish slippers49. He wore a white turban decked by a plume50 of osprey attached by a jewelled clasp.
He signed to the Nubians and they vanished silently, leaving him alone with his captives.
He bowed to Rosamund. “This, mistress,” he said, “is to be your domain51 henceforth which is to treat you more as wife than slave. For it is to Muslim wives that the housetops in Barbary are allotted52. I hope you like it.”
Lionel staring at him out of a white face, his conscience bidding him fear the very worst, his imagination painting a thousand horrid53 fates for him and turning him sick with dread54, shrank back before his half-brother, who scarce appeared to notice him just then.
But Rosamund confronted him, drawn55 to the full of her splendid height, and if her face was pale, yet it was as composed and calm as his own; if her bosom56 rose and fell to betray her agitations57 yet her glance was contemptuous and defiant58, her voice calm and steady, when she answered him with the question —“What is your intent with me?”
“My intent?” said he, with a little twisted smile. Yet for all that he believed he hated her and sought to hurt, to humble59 and to crush her, he could not stifle60 his admiration61 of her spirit’s gallantry in such an hour as this.
From behind the hills peeped the edge of the moon — a sickle62 of burnished63 copper64.
“My intent is not for you to question,” he replied. “There was a time, Rosamund, when in all the world you had no slave more utter than was I. Yourself in your heartlessness, and in your lack of faith, you broke the golden fetters65 of that servitude. You’ll find it less easy to break the shackles66 I now impose upon you.”
She smiled her scorn and quiet confidence. He stepped close to her. “You are my slave, do you understand? — bought in the market-place as I might buy me a mule67, a goat, or a camel — and belonging to me body and soul. You are my property, my thing, my chattel68, to use or abuse, to cherish or break as suits my whim69, without a will that is not my will, holding your very life at my good pleasure.”
She recoiled70 a step before the dull hatred71 that throbbed72 in his words, before the evil mockery of his swarthy bearded face.
“You beast!” she gasped73.
“So now you understand the bondage74 into which you are come in exchange for the bondage which in your own wantonness you dissolved.”
“May God forgive you,” she panted.
“I thank you for that prayer,” said he. “May He forgive you no less.”
And then from the background came an inarticulate sound, a strangled, snarling75 sob76 from Lionel.
Sakr-el-Bahr turned slowly. He eyed the fellow a moment in silence, then he laughed.
“Ha! My sometime brother. A pretty fellow, as God lives is it not? Consider him Rosamund. Behold77 how gallantly78 misfortune is borne by this pillar of manhood upon which you would have leaned, by this stalwart husband of your choice. Look at him! Look at this dear brother of mine.”
Under the lash79 of that mocking tongue Lionel’s mood was stung to anger where before it had held naught81 but fear.
“You are no brother of mine,” he retorted fiercely. “Your mother was a wanton who betrayed my father.”
Sakr-el-Bahr quivered a moment as if he had been struck. Yet he controlled himself.
“Let me hear my mother’s name but once again on thy foul82 tongue, and I’ll have it ripped out by the roots. Her memory, I thank God, is far above the insults of such a crawling thing as you. None the less, take care not to speak of the only woman whose name I reverence83.”
And then turning at bay, as even the rat will do, Lionel sprang upon him, with clawing hands outstretched to reach his throat. But Sakr-el-Bahr caught him in a grip that bent84 him howling to his knees.
“You find me strong, eh?” he gibed85. “Is it matter for wonder? Consider that for six endless months I toiled86 at the oar87 of a galley88, and you’ll understand what it was that turned my body into iron and robbed me of a soul.”
He flung him off, and sent him crashing into the rosebush and the lattice over which it rambled89.
“Do you realize the horror of the rower’s bench? to sit day in day out, night in night out, chained naked to the oar, amid the reek90 and stench of your fellows in misfortune, unkempt, unwashed save by the rain, broiled91 and roasted by the sun, festering with sores, lashed92 and cut and scarred by the boatswain’s whip as you faint under the ceaseless, endless, cruel toil12?”
“Do you realize it?” From a tone of suppressed fury his voice rose suddenly to a roar. “You shall. For that horror which was mine by your contriving93 shall now be yours until you die.”
He paused; but Lionel made no attempt to avail himself of this. His courage all gone out of him again, as suddenly as it had flickered94 up, he cowered95 where he had been flung.
“Before you go there is something else,” Sakr-el-Bahr resumed, “something for which I have had you brought hither to-night.
“Not content with having delivered me to all this, not content with having branded me a murderer, destroyed my good name, filched96 my possessions and driven me into the very path of hell, you must further set about usurping97 my place in the false heart of this woman I once loved.”
“I hope,” he went on reflectively, “that in your own poor way you love her, too, Lionel. Thus to the torment98 that awaits your body shall be added torment for your treacherous99 soul — such torture of mind as only the damned may know. To that end have I brought you hither. That you may realize something of what is in store for this woman at my hands; that you may take the thought of it with you to be to your mind worse than the boatswain’s lash to your pampered100 body.”
“You devil!” snarled101 Lionel. “Oh, you fiend out of hell!”
“If you will manufacture devils, little toad102 of a brother, do not upbraid103 them for being devils when next you meet them.”
“Give him no heed104, Lionel!” said Rosamund. “I shall prove him as much a boaster as he has proved himself a villain105. Never think that he will be able to work his evil will.”
“’Tis you are the boaster there,” said Sakr-el-Bahr. “And for the rest, I am what you and he, between you, have made me.”
“Did we make you liar106 and coward? — for that is what you are indeed,” she answered.
“Coward?” he echoed, in genuine surprise. “’Twill be some lie that he has told you with the others. In what, pray, was I ever a coward?”
“In what? In this that you do now; in this taunting108 and torturing of two helpless beings in our power.”
“I speak not of what I am,” he replied, “for I have told you that I am what you have made me. I speak of what I was. I speak of the past.”
She looked at him and she seemed to measure him with her unwavering glance.
“You speak of the past?” she echoed, her voice low. “You speak of the past and to me? You dare?”
“It is that we might speak of it together that I have fetched you all the way from England; that at last I may tell you things I was a fool to have kept from you five years ago; that we may resume a conversation which you interrupted when you dismissed me.”
“I did you a monstrous109 injury, no doubt,” she answered him, with bitter irony110. “I was surely wanting in consideration. It would have become me better to have smiled and fawned111 upon my brother’s murderer.”
“I swore to you, then, that I was not his murderer,” he reminded her in a voice that shook.
“And I answered you that you lied.”
“Ay, and on that you dismissed me — the word of the man whom you professed112 to love, the word of the man to whom you had given your trust weighing for naught with you.”
“When I gave you my trust,” she retorted, “I did so in ignorance of your true self, in a headstrong wilful113 ignorance that would not be guided by what all the world said of you and your wild ways. For that blind wilfulness114 I have been punished, as perhaps I deserved to be.”
“Lies — all lies!” he stormed. “Those ways of mine — and God knows they were none so wild, when all is said — I abandoned when I came to love you. No lover since the world began was ever so cleansed115, so purified, so sanctified by love as was I.”
“Spare me this at least!” she cried on a note of loathing116
“Spare you?” he echoed. “What shall I spare you?”
“The shame of it all; the shame that is ever mine in the reflection that for a season I believed I loved you.”
He smiled. “If you can still feel shame, it shall overwhelm you ere I have done. For you shall hear me out. Here there are none to interrupt us, none to thwart117 my sovereign will. Reflect then, and remember. Remember what a pride you took in the change you had wrought118 in me. Your vanity welcomed that flattery, that tribute to the power of your beauty. Yet, all in a moment, upon the paltriest119 grounds, you believed me the murderer of your brother.”
“The paltriest grounds?” she cried, protesting almost despite herself
“So paltry120 that the justices at Truro would not move against me.”
“Because,” she cut in, “they accounted that you had been sufficiently121 provoked. Because you had not sworn to them as you swore to me that no provocation122 should ever drive you to raise your hand against my brother. Because they did not realize how false and how forsworn you were.”
He considered her a moment. Then he took a turn on the terrace. Lionel crouching123 ever by the rose-tree was almost entirely124 forgotten by him now.
“God give me patience with you!” he said at length. “I need it. For I desire you to understand many things this night. I mean you to see how just is my resentment125; how just the punishment that is to overtake you for what you have made of my life and perhaps of my hereafter. Justice Baine and another who is dead, knew me for innocent.”
“They knew you for innocent?” There was scornful amazement126 in her tone. “Were they not witnesses of the quarrel betwixt you and Peter and of your oath that you would kill him?”
“That was an oath sworn in the heat of anger. Afterwards I bethought me that he was your brother.”
“Afterwards?” said she. “After you had murdered him?”
“I say again,” Oliver replied calmly, “that I did not do this thing.”
“And I say again that you lie.”
He considered her for a long moment; then he laughed. “Have you ever,” he asked, “known a man to lie without some purpose? Men lie for the sake of profit, they lie out of cowardice127 or malice128, or else because they are vain and vulgar boasters. I know of no other causes that will drive a man to falsehood, save that — ah, yes! —” (and he flashed a sidelong glance at Lionel)—“save that sometimes a man will lie to shield another, out of self-sacrifice. There you have all the spurs that urge a man to falsehood. Can any of these be urging me to-night? Reflect! Ask yourself what purpose I could serve by lying to you now. Consider further that I have come to loathe129 you for your unfaith; that I desire naught so much as to punish you for that and for all its bitter consequences to me that I have brought you hither to exact payment from you to the uttermost farthing. What end then can I serve by falsehood?”
“All this being so, what end could you serve by truth?” she countered.
“To make you realize to the full the injustice130 that you did. To make you understand the wrongs for which you are called to pay. To prevent you from conceiving yourself a martyr; to make you perceive in all its deadly bitterness that what now comes to you is the inevitable131 fruit of your own faithlessness.”
“Sir Oliver, do you think me a fool?” she asked him.
“Madam, I do — and worse,” he answered.
“Ay, that is clear,” she agreed scornfully, “since even now you waste breath in attempting to persuade me against my reason. But words will not blot132 out facts. And though you talk from now till the day of judgment133 no word of yours can efface134 those bloodstains in the snow that formed a trail from that poor murdered body to your own door; no word of yours can extinguish the memory of the hatred between him and you, and of your own threat to kill him; nor can it stifle the recollection of the public voice demanding your punishment. You dare to take such a tone as you are taking with me? You dare here under Heaven to stand and lie to me that you may give false gloze to the villainy of your present deed — for that is the purpose of your falsehood, since you asked me what purpose there could be for it. What had you to set against all that, to convince me that your hands were clean, to induce me to keep the troth which — God forgive me! — I had plighted135 to you?”
“My word,” he answered her in a ringing voice.
“Your lie,” she amended136.
“Do not suppose,” said he, “that I could not support my word by proofs if called upon to do so.”
“Proofs?” She stared at him, wide-eyed a moment. Then her lip curled. “And that no doubt was the reason of your flight when you heard that the Queen’s pursuivants were coming in response to the public voice to call you to account.”
He stood at gaze a moment, utterly137 dumbfounded. “My flight?” he said. “What fable’s that?”
“You will tell me next that you did not flee. That that is another false charge against you?”
“So,” he said slowly, “it was believed I fled!”
And then light burst upon him, to dazzle and stun80 him. It was so inevitably138 what must have been believed, and yet it had never crossed his mind. O the damnable simplicity139 of it! At another time his disappearance140 must have provoked comment and investigation141, perhaps. But, happening when it did, the answer to it came promptly142 and convincingly and no man troubled to question further. Thus was Lionel’s task made doubly easy, thus was his own guilt143 made doubly sure in the eyes of all. His head sank upon his breast. What had he done? Could he still blame Rosamund for having been convinced by so overwhelming a piece of evidence? Could he still blame her if she had burnt unopened the letter which he had sent her by the hand of Pitt? What else indeed could any suppose, but that he had fled? And that being so, clearly such a flight must brand him irrefutably for the murderer he was alleged144 to be. How could he blame her if she had ultimately been convinced by the only reasonable assumption possible?
A sudden sense of the wrong he had done rose now like a tide about him.
“My God!” he groaned, like a man in pain. “My God!”
He looked at her, and then averted145 his glance again, unable now to endure the haggard, strained yet fearless gaze of those brave eyes of hers.
“What else, indeed, could you believe?” he muttered brokenly, thus giving some utterance146 to what was passing through his mind.
“Naught else but the whole vile147 truth,” she answered fiercely, and thereby148 stung him anew, whipped him out of his sudden weakening back to his mood of resentment and vindictiveness149.
She had shown herself, he thought in that moment of reviving anger, too ready to believe what told against him.
“The truth?” he echoed, and eyed her boldly now. “Do you know the truth when you see it? We shall discover. For by God’s light you shall have the truth laid stark150 before you now, and you shall find it hideous151 beyond all your hideous imaginings.”
There was something so compelling now in his tone and manner that it drove her to realize that some revelation was impending152. She was conscious of a faint excitement, a reflection perhaps of the wild excitement that was astir in him.
“Your brother,” he began, “met his death at the hands of a false weakling whom I loved, towards whom I had a sacred duty. Straight from the deed he fled to me for shelter. A wound he had taken in the struggle left that trail of blood to mark the way he had come.” He paused, and his tone became gentler, it assumed the level note of one who reasons impassively. “Was it not an odd thing, now, that none should ever have paused to seek with certainty whence that blood proceeded, and to consider that I bore no wound in those days? Master Baine knew it, for I submitted my body to his examination, and a document was drawn up and duly attested153 which should have sent the Queen’s pursuivants back to London with drooping154 tails had I been at Penarrow to receive them.”
Faintly through her mind stirred the memory that Master Baine had urged the existence of some such document, that in fact he had gone so far as to have made oath of this very circumstance now urged by Sir Oliver; and she remembered that the matter had been brushed aside as an invention of the justice’s to answer the charge of laxity in the performance of his duty, particularly as the only co-witness he could cite was Sir Andrew Flack, the parson, since deceased. Sir Oliver’s voice drew her attention from that memory.
“But let that be,” he was saying. “Let us come back to the story itself. I gave the craven weakling shelter. Thereby I drew down suspicion upon myself, and since I could not clear myself save by denouncing him, I kept silent. That suspicion drew to certainty when the woman to whom I was betrothed155, recking nothing of my oaths, freely believing the very worst of me, made an end of our betrothal156 and thereby branded me a murderer and a liar in the eyes of all. Indignation swelled157 against me. The Queen’s pursuivants were on their way to do what the justices of Truro refused to do.
“So far I have given you facts. Now I give you surmise158 — my own conclusions — but surmise that strikes, as you shall judge, the very bull’s-eye of truth. That dastard159 to whom I had given sanctuary160, to whom I had served as a cloak, measured my nature by his own and feared that I must prove unequal to the fresh burden to be cast upon me. He feared lest under the strain of it I should speak out, advance my proofs, and so destroy him. There was the matter of that wound, and there was something still more unanswerable he feared I might have urged. There was a certain woman — a wanton up at Malpas — who could have been made to speak, who could have revealed a rivalry161 concerning her betwixt the slayer162 and your brother. For the affair in which Peter Godolphin met his death was a pitifully, shamefully163 sordid164 one at bottom.”
For the first time she interrupted him, fiercely. “Do you malign165 the dead?”
“Patience, mistress,” he commanded. “I malign none. I speak the truth of a dead man that the truth may be known of two living ones. Hear me out, then! I have waited long and survived a deal that I might tell you this
“That craven, then, conceived that I might become a danger to him; so he decided166 to remove me. He contrived167 to have me kidnapped one night and put aboard a vessel168 to be carried to Barbary and sold there as a slave. That is the truth of my disappearance. And the slayer, whom I had befriended and sheltered at my own bitter cost, profited yet further by my removal. God knows whether the prospect169 of such profit was a further temptation to him. In time he came to succeed me in my possessions, and at last to succeed me even in the affections of the faithless woman who once had been my affianced wife.”
At last she started from the frozen patience in which she had listened hitherto. “Do you say that . . . that Lionel . . .?” she was beginning in a voice choked by indignation.
And then Lionel spoke170 at last, straightening himself into a stiffly upright attitude.
“He lies!” he cried. “He lies, Rosamund! Do not heed him.”
“I do not,” she answered, turning away.
A wave of colour suffused171 the swarthy face of Sakr-el-Bahr. A moment his eyes followed her as she moved away a step or two, then they turned their blazing light of anger upon Lionel. He strode silently across to him, his mien172 so menacing that Lionel shrank back in fresh terror.
Sakr-el-Bahr caught his brother’s wrist in a grip that was as that of a steel manacle. “We’ll have the truth this night if we have to tear it from you with red-hot pincers,” he said between his teeth.
He dragged him forward to the middle of the terrace and held him there before Rosamund, forcing him down upon his knees into a cowering173 attitude by the violence of that grip upon his wrist.
“Do you know aught of the ingenuity174 of Moorish torture?” he asked him. “You may have heard of the rack and the wheel and the thumbscrew at home. They are instruments of voluptuous175 delight compared with the contrivances of Barbary to loosen stubborn tongues.”
White and tense, her hands clenched176, Rosamund seemed to stiffen177 before him.
“You coward! You cur! You craven renegade dog!” she branded him.
Oliver released his brother’s wrist and beat his hands together. Without heeding178 Rosamund he looked down upon Lionel, who cowered shuddering179 at his feet.
“What do you say to a match between your fingers? Or do you think a pair of bracelets180 of living fire would answer better, to begin with?”
A squat181, sandy-bearded, turbaned fellow, rolling slightly in his gait, came — as had been prearranged — to answer the corsair’s summons.
With the toe of his slipper48 Sakr-el-Bahr stirred his brother.
“Look up, dog,” he bade him. “Consider me that man, and see if you know him again. Look at him, I say!” And Lionel looked, yet since clearly he did so without recognition his brother explained: “His name among Christians182 was Jasper Leigh. He was the skipper you bribed183 to carry me into Barbary. He was taken in his own toils184 when his ship was sunk by Spaniards. Later he fell into my power, and because I forebore from hanging him he is to-day my faithful follower9. I should bid him tell you what he knows,” he continued, turning to Rosamund, “if I thought you would believe his tale. But since I am assured you would not, I will take other means.” He swung round to Jasper again. “Bid Ali heat me a pair of steel manacles in a brazier and hold them in readiness against my need of them.” And he waved his hand.
Jasper bowed and vanished.
“The bracelets shall coax185 confession186 from your own lips, my brother.”
“I have naught to confess,” protested Lionel. “You may force lies from me with your ruffianly tortures.”
Oliver smiled. “Not a doubt but that lies will flow from you more readily than truth. But we shall have truth, too, in the end, never doubt it.” He was mocking, and there was a subtle purpose underlying187 his mockery. “And you shall tell a full story,” he continued, “in all its details, so that Mistress Rosamund’s last doubt shall vanish. You shall tell her how you lay in wait for him that evening in Godolphin Park; how you took him unawares, and. . . . ”
“That is false!” cried Lionel in a passion of sincerity188 that brought him to his feet.
It was false, indeed, and Oliver knew it, and deliberately189 had recourse to falsehood, using it as a fulcrum190 upon which to lever out the truth. He was cunning as all the fiends, and never perhaps did he better manifest his cunning.
“False?” he cried with scorn. “Come, now, be reasonable. The truth, ere torture sucks it out of you. Reflect that I know all — exactly as you told it me. How was it, now? Lurking191 behind a bush you sprang upon him unawares and ran him through before he could so much as lay a hand to his sword, and so. . . . ”
“The lie of that is proven by the very facts themselves,” was the furious interruption. A subtle judge of tones might have realized that here was truth indeed, angry indignant truth that compelled conviction. “His sword lay beside him when they found him.”
But Oliver was loftily disdainful. “Do I not know? Yourself you drew it after you had slain192 him.”
The taunt107 performed its deadly work. For just one instant Lionel was carried off his feet by the luxury of his genuine indignation, and in that one instant he was lost.
“As God’s my witness, that is false!” he cried wildly. “And you know it. I fought him fair. . . . ”
He checked on a long, shuddering, indrawn breath that was horrible to hear.
Then silence followed, all three remaining motionless as statues: Rosamund white and tense, Oliver grim and sardonic193, Lionel limp, and overwhelmed by the consciousness of how he had been lured194 into self-betrayal.
At last it was Rosamund who spoke, and her voice shook and shifted from key to key despite her strained attempt to keep it level.
“What . . . what did you say, Lionel?” she asked. Oliver laughed softly. “He was about to add proof of his statement, I think,” he jeered195. “He was about to mention the wound he took in that fight, which left those tracks in the snow, thus to prove that I lied — as indeed I did — when I said that he took Peter unawares.
“Lionel!” she cried. She advanced a step and made as if to hold out her arms to him, then let them fall again beside her. He stood stricken, answering nothing. “Lionel!” she cried again, her voice growing suddenly shrill196. “Is this true?”
“Did you not hear him say it?” quoth Oliver.
She stood swaying a moment, looking at Lionel, her white face distorted into a mask of unutterable pain. Oliver stepped towards her, ready to support her, fearing that she was about to fall. But with an imperious hand she checked his advance, and by a supreme197 effort controlled her weakness. Yet her knees shook under her, refusing their office. She sank down upon the divan and covered her face with her hands.
“God pity me!” she moaned, and sat huddled198 there, shaken with sobs199.
Lionel started at that heart-broken cry. Cowering, he approached her, and Oliver, grim and sardonic, stood back, a spectator of the scene he had precipitated200. He knew that given rope Lionel would enmesh himself still further. There must be explanations that would damn him utterly. Oliver was well content to look on.
“Rosamund!” came Lionel’s piteous cry. “Rose! Have mercy! Listen ere you judge me. Listen lest you misjudge me!”
“Ay, listen to him,” Oliver flung in, with his soft hateful laugh. “Listen to him. I doubt he’ll be vastly entertaining.”
That sneer201 was a spur to the wretched Lionel. “Rosamund, all that he has told you of it is false. I . . . I . . . It was done in self-defence. It is a lie that I took him unawares.” His words came wildly now. “We had quarrelled about . . . about . . . a certain matter, and as the devil would have it we met that evening in Godolphin Park, he and I. He taunted203 me; he struck me, and finally he drew upon me and forced me to draw that I might defend my life. That is the truth. I swear to you here on my knees in the sight of Heaven! And. . . . ”
“Enough, sir! Enough!” she broke in, controlling herself to check these protests that but heightened her disgust.
“Nay, hear me yet, I implore204 you; that knowing all you may be merciful in your judgment.”
“Merciful?” she cried, and almost seemed to laugh
“It was an accident that I slew205 him,” Lionel raved206 on. “I never meant it. I never meant to do more than ward16 and preserve my life. But when swords are crossed more may happen than a man intends. I take God to witness that his death was an accident resulting from his own fury.”
She had checked her sobs, and she considered him now with eyes that were hard and terrible.
“Was it also an accident that you left me and all the world in the belief that the deed was your brother’s?” she asked him.
He covered his face, as if unable to endure her glance. “Did you but know how I loved you — even in those days, in secret — you would perhaps pity me a little,” he whimpered.
“Pity?” She leaned forward and seemed to spit the word at him. “‘Sdeath, man! Do you sue for pity — you?”
“Yet you must pity me did you know the greatness of the temptation to which I succumbed207.”
“I know the greatness of your infamy208, of your falseness, of your cowardice, of your baseness. Oh!”
He stretched out suppliant209 hands to her; there were tears now in his eyes. “Of your charity, Rosamund. . . . ” he was beginning, when at last Oliver intervened:
“I think you are wearying the lady,” he said, and stirred him with his foot. “Relate to us instead some more of your astounding210 accidents. They are more diverting. Elucidate211 the accident, by which you had me kidnapped to be sold into slavery. Tell us of the accident by which you succeeded to my property. Expound212 to the full the accidental circumstances of which throughout you have been the unfortunate victim. Come, man, ply5 your wits. ’Twill make a pretty tale.”
And then came Jasper to announce that Ali waited with the brazier and the heated manacles.
“They are no longer needed,” said Oliver. “Take this slave hence with you. Bid Ali to take charge of him, and at dawn to see him chained to one of the oars213 of my galeasse. Away with him.”
Lionel rose to his feet, his face ashen214. “Wait! Ah, wait! Rosamund!” he cried.
Oliver caught him by the nape of his neck, spun215 him round, and flung him into the arms of Jasper. “Take him away!” he growled216, and Jasper took the wretch202 by the shoulders and urged him out, leaving Rosamund and Oliver alone with the truth under the stars of Barbary.
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收听单词发音
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1
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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2
retinue
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| n.侍从；随员 | |
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3
eminence
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| n.卓越，显赫；高地，高处；名家 | |
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4
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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6
myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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7
gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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8
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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9
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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10
defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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13
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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14
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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15
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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16
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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17
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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18
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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19
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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20
fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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21
wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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22
shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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23
transmuting
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| v.使变形，使变质，把…变成…( transmute的现在分词 ) | |
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24
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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25
fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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26
stork
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| n.鹳 | |
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27
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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28
croak
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| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
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29
awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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30
divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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31
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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32
merged
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| （使）混合( merge的过去式和过去分词 )； 相融； 融入； 渐渐消失在某物中 | |
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33
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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34
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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35
strand
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| vt.使（船）搁浅，使（某人）困于（某地） | |
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36
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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37
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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38
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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39
doom
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| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
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40
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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41
plight
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| n.困境，境况，誓约，艰难；vt.宣誓，保证，约定 | |
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42
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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43
lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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44
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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45
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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46
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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47
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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48
slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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49
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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50
plume
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| n.羽毛；v.整理羽毛，骚首弄姿，用羽毛装饰 | |
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51
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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52
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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54
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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55
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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56
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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57
agitations
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| （液体等的）摇动( agitation的名词复数 )； 鼓动； 激烈争论； （情绪等的）纷乱 | |
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58
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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59
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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60
stifle
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| vt.使窒息；闷死；扼杀；抑止，阻止 | |
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61
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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62
sickle
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| n.镰刀 | |
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63
burnished
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| adj.抛光的，光亮的v.擦亮（金属等），磨光( burnish的过去式和过去分词 )；被擦亮，磨光 | |
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64
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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65
fetters
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| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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66
shackles
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| 手铐( shackle的名词复数 )； 脚镣； 束缚； 羁绊 | |
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67
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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68
chattel
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| n.动产；奴隶 | |
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69
whim
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| n.一时的兴致，突然的念头；奇想，幻想 | |
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70
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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71
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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72
throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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73
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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74
bondage
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| n.奴役，束缚 | |
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75
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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76
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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77
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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78
gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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79
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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80
stun
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| vt.打昏，使昏迷，使震惊，使惊叹 | |
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81
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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82
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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83
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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84
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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85
gibed
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄( gibe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
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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87
oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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88
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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89
rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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90
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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91
broiled
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| a.烤过的 | |
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92
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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93
contriving
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| （不顾困难地）促成某事( contrive的现在分词 )； 巧妙地策划，精巧地制造（如机器）； 设法做到 | |
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94
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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95
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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96
filched
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| v.偷（尤指小的或不贵重的物品）( filch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
usurping
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| 篡夺，霸占( usurp的现在分词 )； 盗用； 篡夺，篡权 | |
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98
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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99
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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100
pampered
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| adj.饮食过量的，饮食奢侈的v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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101
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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102
toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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103
upbraid
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| v.斥责，责骂，责备 | |
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104
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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105
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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106
liar
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| n.说谎的人 | |
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107
taunt
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| n.辱骂，嘲弄；v.嘲弄 | |
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108
taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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109
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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110
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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111
fawned
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| v.（尤指狗等）跳过来往人身上蹭以示亲热( fawn的过去式和过去分词 )；巴结；讨好 | |
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112
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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113
wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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114
wilfulness
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| 任性；倔强 | |
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115
cleansed
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| 弄干净，清洗( cleanse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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117
thwart
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| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
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118
wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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119
paltriest
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| paltry（微小的）的最高级形式 | |
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120
paltry
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| adj.无价值的，微不足道的 | |
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121
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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122
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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123
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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124
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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125
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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126
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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127
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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128
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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129
loathe
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| v.厌恶，嫌恶 | |
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130
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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131
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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132
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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133
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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134
efface
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| v.擦掉，抹去 | |
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135
plighted
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| vt.保证，约定（plight的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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136
Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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137
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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138
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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139
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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140
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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141
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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142
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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143
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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144
alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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145
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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146
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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147
vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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148
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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149
vindictiveness
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| 恶毒；怀恨在心 | |
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150
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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151
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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152
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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153
attested
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| adj.经检验证明无病的，经检验证明无菌的v.证明( attest的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；声称…属实；使宣誓 | |
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154
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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155
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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156
betrothal
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| n. 婚约, 订婚 | |
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157
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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158
surmise
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| v./n.猜想，推测 | |
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159
dastard
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| n.卑怯之人，懦夫；adj.怯懦的，畏缩的 | |
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160
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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161
rivalry
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| n.竞争，竞赛，对抗 | |
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162
slayer
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| n. 杀人者，凶手 | |
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163
shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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164
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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165
malign
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| adj.有害的；恶性的；恶意的；v.诽谤，诬蔑 | |
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166
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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167
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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168
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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169
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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170
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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171
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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172
mien
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| n.风采；态度 | |
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173
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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174
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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175
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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176
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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177
stiffen
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| v.(使)硬，(使)变挺，(使)变僵硬 | |
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178
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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179
shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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180
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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181
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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182
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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183
bribed
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| v.贿赂( bribe的过去式和过去分词 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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184
toils
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| 网 | |
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185
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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186
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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187
underlying
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| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
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188
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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189
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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190
fulcrum
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| n.杠杆支点 | |
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191
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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192
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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193
sardonic
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| adj.嘲笑的，冷笑的，讥讽的 | |
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194
lured
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| 吸引，引诱（lure的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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195
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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196
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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197
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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198
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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199
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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200
precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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201
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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202
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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203
taunted
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| 嘲讽( taunt的过去式和过去分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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204
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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205
slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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206
raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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207
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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208
infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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209
suppliant
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| adj.哀恳的；n.恳求者，哀求者 | |
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210
astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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211
elucidate
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| v.阐明，说明 | |
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212
expound
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| v.详述；解释；阐述 | |
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213
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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214
ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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215
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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216
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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