The prisoner was arraigned6 on the heaviest charge that can be laid against the soldier of any army, and yet, as the many eyes of the military crowd turned on him where he stood surrounded by his guard, his crime against his chief was forgotten, and they only remembered — Zaraila.
Many of those present had seen him throughout that day of blood, at the head of his decimated squadron, with the guidon held aloft above every foe7; to them that tall, slender form standing8 there, with a calm, weary dignity, that had nothing of the passion of the mutinous9 or the consciousness of the criminal in its serene10 repose11, had shed upon it the luster13 of a heroism14 that made them ready almost to weep like women that the death of a mutineer should be the sole answer given by France to the savior of her honor.
He preserved entire reticence15 in court. The instant the accusation16 had been read to him, he had seen that his chief would not dare to couple with it the proud, pure name he had dared to outrage17; his most bitter anxiety was thus at an end. For all the rest, he was tranquil18.
No case could be clearer, briefer, less complex, more entirely19 incapable20 of defense21. The soldiers of the guard gave evidence as to the violence and fury of the assault. The sentinel bore witness to having heard the refusal to reply; a moment after, he had seen the attack made and the blow given. The accuser merely stated that, meeting his sous-officier out of the bounds of the cavalry22 camp, he had asked him where he had been, and why he was there, and, on his commanding an answer, had been assaulted in the manner described, with violence sufficient to have cost his life had not the guard been so near at hand. When questioned as to what motive23 he could assign for the act, he replied that he considered his corporal had always incited24 evil feeling and mutinous conduct in the squadrons, and had, he believed, that day attributed to himself his failure to receive the Cross. The statement passed without contradiction by the prisoner, who, to the interrogations and entreaties25 of his legal defender26, only replied that the facts were stated accurately27 as they occurred, and that his reasons for the deed he declined to assert.
When once more questioned as to his country and his past by the president, he briefly28 declined to give answer. When asked if the names by which he was enrolled29 were his own, he replied that they were two of his baptismal names, which had served his purpose on entering the army. When asked if he accepted as true the charge of exciting sedition30 among the troops, he replied that it was so little true that, over and over again, the men would have mutinied if he had given them a sign, and that he had continually induced them to submit to discipline sheerly by force of his own example. When interrogated31 as to the cause of the language he had used to his commanding officer, he said briefly that the language deserved the strongest censure32 as for a soldier to his colonel, but that it was justified33 as he had used it, which was as man to man, though he was aware the plea availed nothing in military law, and was impermissible for the safety of the service. When it was inquired of him if he had not repeatedly inveighed34 against his commanding officer for severity, he briefly denied it; no man had ever heard him say a syllable35 that could have been construed36 into complaint; at the same time, he observed that all the squadrons knew perfectly37 well personal enmity and oppression had been shown him by his chief throughout the whole time of his association with the regiment38. When pressed as to the cause that he assigned for this, he gave, in a few comprehensive outlines, the story of the capture and the deliverance of the Emir’s bride; this was all that could be elicited39 from him; and even this was answered only out of deference40 to the authority of the court, and from his unwillingness41, even now, to set a bad example before the men with whom he had served so long. When it was finally demanded of him if he had aught to urge in his own extenuation43, he paused a moment, with a gaze under which even the hard, eagle eyes grew restless, looked across to Chateauroy, and addressed his antagonist44 rather than the president.
“Only this: that a tyrant45, a liar46, and a traducer47 cannot wonder if men prefer death to submission48 beneath insult. But I am well aware this is no vindication49 of my act as a soldier, and I have no desire to say words which, whatever their truth, might become hereafter dangerous legacies50, and dangerous precedents51 to the army.”
That was all which he answered, and neither his counsel nor his accusers could extort52 another syllable from him.
He knew that what he had done was justified to his own conscience, but he did not seek to dispute that it was unjustifiable in military law. True, had all been told, it was possible enough that his judges would exonerate53 him morally, even if they condemned54 him legally; his act would be seen blameless as a man’s, even while still punishable as a soldier’s; but to purchase immunity55 for himself at the cost of bringing the fairness of her fame into the coarse babble56 of men’s tongues was an alternative, craven and shameful57, which never even once glanced across his thoughts.
He had kept faith to a woman whom he had known heartless and well-nigh worthless; it was not to the woman whom he loved with all the might of an intense passion, and whom he knew pure and glorious as the morning sun, that he would break his faith now.
All through the three days that the council sat his look and his manner never changed — the first was quite calm, though very weary; the latter courteous58, but resolute59, with the unchanged firmness of one who knew his own past action justified. For the rest, many noticed that, during the chief of the long, exhausting hours of his examination and his trial, his thoughts seemed far away, and he appeared to recall them to the present with difficulty, and with nothing of the vivid suspense60 of an accused, whose life and death swung in the judgment-balance.
In truth, he had no dread61 as he had no hope left; he knew well enough that by the blow which had vindicated62 her honor he had forfeited63 his own existence. All he wished was that his sentence had been dealt without this formula of debate and of delay, which could have issue but in one end. There was not one man in court who was not more moved than he, more quick to terror and regret for his doom64. To many among his comrades who had learned to love the gentle, silent “aristocrat65,” who bore every hardship so patiently, and humanized them so imperceptibly by the simple force of an unvaunted example, those three days were torture. Wild, brutal66 brigands67, whose year was one long razzia of plunder69, rapine, and slaughter70, felt their lips tremble like young girls’ when they asked how the issue went for him; and the blood-stained marauders, who thought as little of assassination71 for a hidden pot of gold as butchers of drawing a knife across a sheep’s throat, grew still and fear-stricken with a great awe72 when the muttering passed through the camp that they would see no more among their ranks that “woman’s face” which they had beheld73 so often foremost in the fight, with a look on it that thrilled their hearts like their forbidden chant of the Marseillaise. For when the third day closed, they knew that he must die.
There were men, hard as steel, ravenous74 of blood as vultures, who, when they heard that sentence given, choked great, deep sobs75 down into the cavernous depths of their broad, seared, sinewy76 breasts; but he never gave sigh or sign. He never moved once while the decree of death was read to him; and there was no change in the weary calmness of his eyes. He bent77 his head in acquiescence78.
“C’est bien!” he said simply.
It seemed well to him. Dead, his secret would lie in the grave with him, and the long martyrdom of his life be ended.
In the brightness of the noon Cigarette leaned out of her little oval casement80 that framed her head like an old black oak carving81 — a head with the mellow82 bloom on its cheeks, and the flash of scarlet83 above its dark curls, and the robin-like grace of poise84 and balance as it hung out there in the sun.
Cigarette had been there a whole hour in thought; she who never had wasted a moment in meditation85 or reverie, and who found the long African day all too short for her busy, abundant, joyous86 life, that was always full of haste and work, just as a bird’s will seem so, though the bird have no more to do than to fly at its will through summer air, and feed at its will from brook87 and from berry, from a ripe ear of the corn or from a deep cup of the lily. For the first time she was letting time drift away in the fruitless labor88 of vain, purposeless thought, because, for the first time also, happiness was not with her.
They were gone forever — all the elastic89 joyance, all the free, fair hours, all the dauntless gayety of childhood, all the sweet, harmonious90 laughter of a heart without a care. They were gone forever; for the touch of love and of pain had been laid on her; and never again would her radiant eyes smile cloudlessly, like the young eagle’s, at a sun that rose but to be greeted as only youth can great another dawn of life that is without a shadow.
And she leaned wearily there, with her cheek lying on the cold, gray Moorish91 stone; the color and the brightness were in the rays of the light, in the rich hues93 of her hair and her mouth, in the scarlet glow of her dress; there was no brightness in her face. The eyes were vacant as they watched the green lizard94 glide95 over the wall beyond, and the lips were parted with a look of unspeakable fatigue96; the tire, not of the limbs, but of the heart. She had come thither97, hoping to leave behind her on the desert wind that alien care, that new, strange passion, which sapped her strength, and stung her pride, and made her evil with such murderous lust12 of vengeance98; and they were with her still. Only something of the deadly, biting ferocity of jealousy99 had changed into a passionate100 longing101 to be as that woman was who had his love; into a certain hopeless, sickening sense of having forever lost that which alone could have given her such beauty and such honor in the sight of men as those this woman had.
To her it seemed impossible that this patrician102 who had his passion should not return it. To the child of the camp, though she often mocked at caste, all the inexorable rules, all the reticent103 instincts of caste, were things unknown. She would have failed to comprehend all the thousand reasons which would have forbidden any bond between the great aristocrat and a man of low grade and of dubious104 name. She only thought of love as she had always seen it, quickly born, hotly cherished, wildly indulged, and without tie or restraint.
“And I came without my vengeance!” she mused105. To the nature that felt the ferocity of the vendetta106 a right and a due, there was wounding humiliation107 in her knowledge that she had left her rival unharmed, and had come hither, out from his sight and his presence, lest he should see in her one glimpse of that folly108 which she would have killed herself under her own steel rather than have been betrayed, either for his contempt or his compassion109.
“And I came without my vengeance!” she mused, in that oppressive noon, in that gray and lonely place, in that lofty tower-solitude, where there was nothing between her and the hot, hard, cruel blue of the heavens, vengeance looked the only thing that was left her; the only means whereby that void in her heart could be filled, that shame in her life be washed out. To love! and to love a man who had no love for her, whose eyes only beheld another’s face, whose ears only thirsted for another’s voice! Its degradation110 stamped her a traitress in her own sight — traitress to her code, to her pride, to her country, to her flag!
And yet, at the core of her heart so tired a pang111 was aching! She who had gloried in being the child of the whole people, the daughter of the whole army, felt lonely and abandoned, as though she were some bird which an hour ago had been flying in all its joy among its brethren and now, maimed with one shot, had fallen, with broken pinion112 and torn plumage, to lie alone upon the sand and die.
The touch of a bird’s wing brushing her hair brought the dreamy comparison to her wandering thoughts. She started and lifted her head; it was a blue carrier-pigeon, one of the many she fed at that casement, and the swiftest and surest of several she sent with messages for the soldiers between the various stations and corps113. She had forgotten she had left the bird at the encampment.
She caressed114 it absently, while the tired creature sank down on her bosom115; then only she saw that there was a letter beneath one wing. She unloosed it, and looked at it without being able to tell its meaning; she could not read a word, printed or written. Military habits were too strong with her for the arrival not to change her reverie into action; whoever it was for, it must be seen. She gave the pigeon water and grain, then wound her way down the dark, narrow stairs, through the height of the tower, out into the passage below.
She found an old French cobbler sitting at a stall in a casement, stitching leather; he was her customary reader and scribe in this quarter. She touched him with the paper. “Bon Mathieu! Wilt116 thou read this to me?”
“It is for thee, Little One, and signed ‘Petit Pot-deterre.’”
Cigarette nodded listlessly.
“’Tis a good lad, and a scholar,” she answered absently. “Read on!”
And he read aloud:
“‘There is ill news. I send the bird on a chance to find thee. Bel-a-faire-peau struck the Black Hawk117 — a slight blow, but with threat to kill following it. He has been tried, and is to be shot. There is no appeal. The case is clear; the Colonel could have cut him down, were that all. I thought you should know. We are all sorry. It was done on the night of the great fete. I am thy humble118 lover and slave.’”
So the boy-Zouave’s scrawl119, crushed, and blotted120, and written with great difficulty, ran in its brief phrases that the slow muttering of the old shoemaker drew out in tedious length.
Cigarette heard; she never made a movement or gave a sound, but all the blood fled out of her brilliant face, leaving it horribly blanched121 beneath its brown sun-scorch122; and her eyes — distended123, senseless, sightless — were fastened on the old man’s slowly moving mouth.
“Read it again!” she said simply, when all was ended. He started and looked up at her face; the voice had not one accent of its own tone left.
He obeyed, and read it once more to the end. Then a loud, shuddering124 sigh escaped her, like the breath of one stifling125 under flames.
“Shot!” she said vacantly. “Shot!”
Her vengeance had come without her once lifting her hand to summon it.
The old man rose hurriedly.
“Child! Art thou ill?”
“The blow was struck for her!” she muttered. “It was that night, you hear — that night!”
“What night? Thou lookest so strangely! Dost thou love this doomed126 soldier?”
Cigarette laughed — a laugh whose echo thrilled horribly through the lonely Moresco courtway.
“Love? Love? I hated him, look you! So I said. And I longed for my vengeance. It is come!”
She was still a moment; her white, parched127 mouth quivering as though she were under physical torture, her strained eyes fastened on the empty air, the veins128 in her throat swelling129 and throbbing131 till they glowed to purple. Then she crushed the letter in one hand, and flew, fleet as any antelope132 through the streets of the Moorish quarter, and across the city to the quay133.
The people ever gave way before her; but now they scattered134 like frightened sheep from her path. There was something that terrified them in that bloodless horror set upon her face, and in that fury of resistless speed with which she rushed upon her way.
Once only in her headlong career through the throngs135 she paused; it was as one face, on which the strong light of the noontide poured, came before her. The senseless look changed in her eyes; she wheeled out of her route, and stopped before the man who had thus arrested her. He was leaning idly over the stall of a Turkish bazaar136, and her hand grasped his arm before he saw her.
“You have his face!” she muttered. “What are you to him?”
He made no answer; he was too amazed.
“You are of his race,” she persisted. “You are brethren by your look. What are you to him?”
“To whom?”
“To the man who calls himself Louis Victor! A Chasseur of my army!”
Her eyes were fastened entirely on him; keen, ruthless, fierce, in this moment as a hawk’s. He grew pale and murmured an incoherent denial. He sought to shake her off, first gently, then more rudely; he called her mad, and tried to fling her from him; but the lithe138 fingers only wound themselves closer on his arm.
“Be still — fool!” she muttered; and there was that in the accent that lent a strange force and dignity in that moment to the careless and mischievous139 plaything of the soldiery — force that overcame him, dignity that overawed him. “You are of his people; you have his eyes, and his look, and his features. He disowns you, or you him. No matter which. He is of your blood; and he lies under sentence of death. Do you know that?”
With a stifled140 cry, the other recoiled141 from her; he never doubted that she spoke142 the truth; nor could any who had looked upon her face.
“Do not lie to me,” she said curtly143. “It avails you nothing. Read that.”
She thrust before him the paper the pigeon had brought; his hand trembled sorely as he held it; he believed in that moment that this strange creature — half soldier, half woman, half brigand68, half child — knew all his story and all his shame from his brother.
“Shot!” he echoed hoarsely144, as she had done, when he had read on to the end. “Shot! Oh, my God! and I——”
She drew him out of the thoroughfare into a dark recess145 within the bazaar, he submitting unresistingly. He was filled with the horror, the remorse146, the overwhelming shock of his brother’s doom.
“He will be shot,” she said with a strange calmness. “We shoot down many men in our army. I knew him well. He was justified in his act, I do not doubt; but discipline will not stay for that —”
“Silence, for mercy’s sake! Is there no hope — no possibility?”
Her lips were parched like the desert sand as her dry, hard words came through them. “None. His chief could have cut him down in the instant. It took place in camp. You feel this thing; you are of his race, then?”
“I am his brother!”
She was silent; looking at him fixedly147, it did not seem to her strange that she should thus have met one of his blood in the crowds of Algiers. She was absorbed in the one catastrophe149 whose hideousness150 seemed to eat her very life away, even while her nerve, and her brain, and her courage remained at their keenest and strongest.
“You are his brother,” she said slowly, so much as an affirmation that his belief was confirmed that she had learned both their relationship and their history from Cecil. “You must go to him, then.”
He shook from head to foot.
“Yes, yes! But it will be too late!”
She did not know that the words were cried out in all the contrition151 of an unavailing remorse; she gave them only their literal significance, and shuddered152 as she answered him.
“That you must risk. You must go to him. But, first, I must know more. Tell me his name, his rank.”
He was silent; coward and egotist though he was, both cowardice153 and egotism were killed in him under the overwhelming horror with which he felt himself as truly by moral guilt154 a fratricide as though he had stabbed his elder through the heart.
“Speak!” hissed155 Cigarette through her clenched156 teeth. “If you have any kindness, any pity, any love for the man of your blood, who will be shot there like a dog, do not waste a second — answer me, tell me all.”
He turned his wild, terrified glance upon her; he had in that moment no sense but to seize some means of reparation, to declare his brother’s rights, to cry out to the very stones of the streets his own wrong and his victim’s sacrifice.
“He is the head of my house!” he answered her, scarce knowing what he answered. “He should bear the title that I bear now. He is here, in this misery158, because he is the most merciful, the most generous, the most long-suffering of living souls! If he dies, it is not they who have killed him; it is I!”
She listened, with her face set in that stern, fixed148, resolute command which never varied159; she neglected all that wonder, or curiosity, or interest would have made her as at any other time, she only heeded160 the few great facts that bore upon the fate of the condemned.
“Settle with yourself for that sin,” she said bitterly. “Your remorse will not save him. But do the thing that I bid you, if that remorse be sincere. Write me out here that title you say he should bear, and your statement that he is your brother, and should be the chief of your house; then sign it, and give it to me.”
He seized her hands, and gazed with imploring161 eyes into her face.
“Who are you? What are you? If you have the power to do it, for the love of God rescue him! It is I who have murdered him — I— who have let him live on in this hell for my sake!”
“For your sake!”
She flung his hands off her and looked him full in the face; that glance of the speechless scorn, the unutterable rebuke162 of the woman-child who would herself have died a thousand deaths rather than have purchased a whole existence by a single falsehood or a single cowardice, smote163 him like a blow, and avenged164 his sin more absolutely than any public chastisement166. The courage and the truth of a girl scorned his timorous167 fear and his living lie. His head sank, he seemed to shrink under her gaze; his act had never looked so vile168 to him as it looked now.
She gazed a moment longer at him with her mute and wondering disdain169 that there should be on earth a male life capable of such fear and of such ignominy as this. Then the strong and rapid power in her took its instant ascendancy170 over the weaker nature.
“Monsieur, I do not know your story, I do not want. I am not used to men who let others suffer for them. What I want is your written statement of your brother’s name and station; give it me.”
He made a gesture of consent; he would have signed away his soul, if he could, in the stupor171 of remorse which had seized him. She brought him pens and paper from the Turk’s store, and dictated172 what he wrote:
“I hereby affirm that the person serving in the Chasseurs d’Afrique under the name of Louis Victor is my older brother, Bertie Cecil, lawfully173, by inheritance, the Viscount Royallieu, Peer of England. I hereby also acknowledge that I have succeeded to and borne the title illegally, under the supposition of his death.
“BERKELEY CECIL.” (Signed)
He wrote it mechanically; the force of her will and the torture of his own conscience driving him, on an impulse, to undo175 in an instant the whole web of falsehood that he had let circumstance weave on and on to shelter him through twelve long years. He let her draw the paper from him and fold it away in her belt. He watched her with a curious, dreamy sense of his own impotence against the fierce and fiery176 torrent177 of her bidding.
“What is it you will do?” he asked her.
“The best that shall lie in my power. Do you the same.”
“Can his life yet be saved?”
“His honor may — his honor shall.”
Her face had an exceeding beauty as she spoke though it was stern and rigid178 still, a look that was sublime179 gleamed over it. She, the waif and stray of a dissolute camp, knew better than the scion180 of his own race how the doomed man would choose the vindication of his honor before the rescue of his life. He laid his hand on her as she moved.
“Stay! — stay! One word ——”
She flung him off her again.
“This is no time for words. Go to him — coward! — and let the balls that kill him reach you too, if you have one trait of manhood left in you!”
Then, swiftly as a swallow darts181, she quitted him and flew on her headlong way, down through the pressure of the people, and the throngs of the marts, and the noise, and the color, and the movement of the streets.
The sun was scarce declined from its noon before she rode out of the city, on a half-bred horse of the Spahis, swift as the antelope and as wild, with her only equipment some pistols in her holsters, and a bag of rice and a skin of water slung182 at her saddle-bow.
They asked her where she went; she never answered. The hoofs183 struck sharp echoes out of the rugged184 stones, and the people were scattered like chaff185 as she went at full gallop186 down through Algiers. Her comrades, used to see her ever with some song in the air and some laugh on the lips as she went, looked after her with wonder as she passed them, silent, and with her face white and stern as though the bright, brown loveliness of it had been changed to alabaster187.
“What is it with the Cigarette?” they asked each other. None could tell; the desert horse and his rider flew by them as a swallow flies. The gleam of her Cross and the colorless calm of the childlike face that wore the resolve of a Napoleon’s on it were the last they ever saw of Cigarette.
All her fluent, untiring speech was gone — gone with the rose hue92 from her cheek, with the laugh from her mouth, with the child’s joyance from her heart; but the brave, stanch188, dauntless spirit lived with a soldier’s courage, with a martyr79’s patience.
And she rode straight through the scorch of the midday sun, along the sea-coast westward189. The dizzy swiftness would have blinded most who should have been carried through the dry air and under the burning skies at that breathless and pauseless speed; but she had ridden half-maddened colts with the skill of Arabs themselves; she had been tossed on a holster from her earliest years, and had clung with an infant’s hands in fearless glee to the mane of roughriders’ chargers. She never swerved190, she never sickened; she was borne on and on against the hard, hot currents of the cleft191 air with only one sense — that she went so slowly, so slowly, when with every beat of the ringing hoofs one of the few moments of a charmed life fled away!
She had a long route before her; she had many leagues to travel, and there were but four-and-twenty hours, she knew well, left to the man who was condemned to death. Four-and-twenty hours left open for appeal — no more — betwixt the delivery and execution of the sentence. That delay was always interpreted by the French Code as a delay extending from the evening of the day to the dawn of the second day following; and some slight interval192 might then ensue, according as the general in command ordained193. But the twenty-four hours was all of which she could be certain; and even of them some must have flown by since the carrier-pigeon had been loosed to her. She could not tell how long he had to live.
There were fifty miles between her and her goal; Abd-el-Kader’s horse had once covered that space in three hours, so men of the Army of D’Aumale had told her; she knew what they had done she could do. Once only she paused, to let her horse lie a brief while, and cool his foam194-flecked sides, and crop some short, sweet grass that grew where a cleft of water ran and made the bare earth green. She sat quite motionless while he rested; she was keenly alive to all that could best save his strength and further her travel; but she watched him during those few minutes of rest and inaction with a fearful look of hunger in her eyes — the worst hunger — that which craves195 Time and cannot seize it fast enough. Then she mounted again, and again went on, on her flight.
She swept by cantonments, villages, soldiers on the march, douairs of peaceful Arabs, strings196 of mules197 and camels, caravans199 of merchandise; nothing arrested her; she saw nothing that she passed, as she rode over the hard, dust-covered, shadowless roads; over the weary, sun-scorched200, monotonous201 country; over the land without verdure and without foliage202, the land that yet has so weird203 a beauty, so irresistible204 a fascination205; the land to which men, knowing that death waits for them in it, yet return with as mad an infatuation as her lovers went back across the waters to Circe.
The horse was reeking206 with smoke and foam, and the blood was coursing from his flanks, as she reached her destination at last, and threw herself off his saddle as he sank, faint and quivering, to the ground. Whither she had come was to a fortress207 where the Marshal of France, who was the Viceroy of Africa, had arrived that day in his progress of inspection208 throughout the provinces. Soldiers clustered round her eagerly beneath the gates and over the fallen beast; a thousand questions pouring from their curious tongues. She pointed209 to the animal with one hand, to the gaunt pile of stone that bristled210 with cannon211 with the other.
“Have a care of him; and lead me to the chief.”
She spoke quietly; but a certain sensation of awe and fear moved those who heard. She was not the Child of the Army whom they knew so well. She was a creature, desperate, hard-pressed, mute as death, strong as steel; above all, hunted by despair.
They hesitated to take her message, to do her bidding. The one whom she sought was great and supreme212 here as a king; they dreaded213 to approach his staff, to ask his audience.
Cigarette looked at them a moment, then loosened her Cross and held it out to an adjutant standing beneath the gates.
“Take that to the man who gave it me. Tell him Cigarette waits; and with each moment that she waits a soldier’s life is lost. Go!”
The adjutant took it, and went. Over and over again she had brought intelligence of an Arab movement, news of a contemplated214 razzia, warning of an internal revolt, or tidings of an encounter on the plains, that had been of priceless value to the army which she served. It was not lightly that Cigarette’s words were ever received when she spoke as she spoke now; nor was it impossible that she now brought to them that which would brook neither delay nor trifling215.
She waited patiently; all the iron discipline of military life had never bound her gay and lawless spirit down; but now she was singularly still and mute. Only there gleamed thirstily in her eyes that fearful avarice216 which begrudges217 every moment in its flight as never the miser157 grudged218 his hoarded219 gold into the robber’s grasp.
A few minutes and the decoration was brought back to her, and her demand granted. She was summoned to the Marshal’s presence. It was the ordnance220 room, a long, vast, silent chamber221 filled with stands of arms, with all the arts and appliances of war brought to their uttermost perfection, and massed in all the resource of a great empire against the sons of the desert, who had nothing to oppose to them save the despair of a perishing nationality and a stifled freedom.
The Marshal, leaning against a brass222 field-piece, turned to her with a smile in his keen, stern eyes.
“You, my young one! What brings you here?”
She came up to him with her rapid leopard-like grace, and he started as he saw the change upon her features. She was covered with sand and dust, and with the animal’s blood-flecked foam. The beating of her heart from the fury of the gallop had drained every hue from her face; her voice was scarcely articulate in its breathless haste as she saluted223 him.
“Monsieur, I have come from Algiers since noon —”
“From Algiers!” He and his officers echoed the name of the city in incredulous amaze; they knew how far from them down along the sea-line the white town lay.
“Since noon, to rescue a life — the life of a great soldier, of a guiltless man. He who saved the honor of France at Zaraila is to die the death of a mutineer at dawn!”
“What! — your Chasseur!”
A dusky, scarlet fire burned through the pallor of her face; but her eyes never quailed224, and the torrent of her eloquence225 returned under the pangs226 of shame that were beaten back under the noble instincts of her love.
“Mine! — since he is a soldier of France; yours, too, by that title. I am come here, from Algiers, to speak the truth in his name, and to save him for his own honor and the honor of my Empire. See here! At noon, I have this paper, sent by a swift pigeon. Read it! You see how he is to die, and why. Well, by my Cross, by my Flag, by my France, I swear that not a hair of his head shall be touched, and not a drop of blood in his veins shall be shed!”
He looked at her, astonished at the grandeur227 and the courage which could come on this child of razzias and revelries, and give to her all the splendor228 of a fearless command of some young empress. But his face darkened and set sternly as he read the paper; it was the greatest crime in the sight of a proud soldier, this crime against discipline, of the man for whom she pleaded.
“You speak madly,” he said, with cold brevity. “The offense229 merits the chastisement. I shall not attempt to interfere230.”
“Wait! You will hear, at least, Monsieur?”
“I will hear you — yes, but I tell you, once for all, I never change sentences that are pronounced by councils of war; and this crime is the last for which you should attempt to plead for mercy with me.”
“Hear me, at least!” she cried, with passionate ferocity — the ferocity of a dumb animal wounded by a shot. “You do not know what this man is — how he has had to endure; I do. I have watched him; I have seen the brutal tyranny of his chief, who hated him because the soldiers loved him. I have seen his patience, his obedience231, his long-suffering beneath insults that would have driven any other to revolt and murder. I have seen him — I have told you how — at Zaraila, thinking never of death or life, only of our Flag, that he has made his own, and under which he has been forced to lead the life of a galley232 slave —”
“The finer soldier he be, the less pardonable his offense.”
“That I deny! If he were a dolt233, a brute234, a thing of wood as many are, he would have no right to vengeance; as it is, he is a gentleman, a hero, a martyr; may he not forget for one hour that he is a slave? Look you! I have seen him so tried that I told him — I, who love my army better than any living thing under the sun — that I would forgive him if he forgot duty and dealt with his tyrant as man to man. And he always held his soul in patience. Why? Not because he feared death — he desired it; but because he loved his comrades, and suffered in peace and in silence lest, through him, they should be led into evil ——”
His eyes softened235 as he heard her; but the inflexibility236 of his voice never altered.
“It is useless to argue with me,” he said briefly; “I never change a sentence.”
“But I say that you shall!” As the audacious words were flung forth237, she looked him full in the eyes, while her voice rang with its old imperious oratory238. “You are a great chief; you are as a monarch239 here; you hold the gifts and the grandeur of the Empire; but, because of that — because you are as France in my eyes — I swear, by the name of France, that you shall see justice done to him; after death, if you cannot in life. Do you know who he is — this man whom his comrades will shoot down at sunrise as they shoot down the murderer and the ravisher in their crimes?”
“He is a rebellious240 soldier; it is sufficient.”
“He is not! He is a man who vindicated a woman’s honor; he is a man who suffers in a brother’s place; he is an aristocrat exiled to a martyrdom; he is a hero who has never been greater than he will be great in his last hour. Read that! What you refuse to justice, and mercy, and courage, and guiltlessness, you will grant, maybe, to your Order.”
She forced into his hand the written statement of Cecil’s name and station. All the hot blood was back in her cheek, all the fiery passion back in her eyes. She lashed241 this potent242 ruler with the scourge243 of her scorn as she had lashed a drunken horde244 of plunderers with her whip. She was reckless of what she said; she was conscious only of one thing — the despair that consumed her.
The French Marshal glanced his eye on the fragment, carelessly and coldly. As he saw the words, he started, and read on with wondering eagerness.
“Royallieu!” he muttered —“Royallieu!”
The name was familiar to him; he it was who, when he had murmured, “That man has the seat of the English Guards,” as a Chasseur d’Afrique had passed him, had been ignorant that in that Chasseur he saw one whom he had known in many a scene of court splendor and Parisian pleasure. The years had been many since Cecil and he had met, but not so many but that the name brought memories of friendship with it, and moved him with a strange emotion.
He turned with grave anxiety to Cigarette.
“You speak strangely. How came this in your hands?”
“Thus: the day that you gave me the Cross, I saw Mme. la Princesse Corona245. I hated her, and I went — no matter! From her I learned that he whom we call Louis Victor was of her rank, was of old friendship with her house, was exiled and nameless, but for some reason unknown to her. She needed to see him; to bid him farewell, so she said. I took the message for her; I sent him to her.” Her voice grew husky and savage246, but she forced her words on with the reckless sacrifice of self that moved her. “He went to her tent, alone, at night; that was, of course, whence he came when Chateauroy met him. I doubt not the Black Hawk had some foul247 thing to hint of his visit, and that blow was struck for her — for her! Well; in the streets of Algiers I saw a man with a face like his own, different, but the same race, look you. I spoke to him; I taxed him. When he found that the one whom I spoke of was under sentence of death, he grew mad; he cried out that he was his brother and had murdered him — that it was for his sake that the cruelty of this exile had been borne — that, if his brother perished, he would be his destroyer. Then I bade him write down that paper, since these English names were unknown to me, and I brought it hither to you that you might see, under his hand and with your own eyes, that I have uttered the truth. And now, is that man to be killed like a mad beast whom you fear? Is that death the reward France will give for Zaraila?”
Her eyes were fixed with a fearful intensity248 of appeal upon the stern face bent over her; her last arrow was sped; if this failed, all was over. As he heard, he was visibly moved; he remembered the felon’s shame that in years gone by had fallen across the banished249 name of Bertie Cecil; the history seemed clear as crystal to him, seen beneath the light shed on it from other days.
His hand fell heavily on the gun-carriage.
“Mort de Dieu! it was his brother’s sin, not his!”
There was a long silence; those present, who knew nothing of all that was in his memory, felt instinctively250 that some dead weight of alien guilt was lifted off a blameless life forever.
She drew a deep, long, sighing breath; she knew that he was safe. Her hands unconsciously locked on the great chief’s arms; her eyes looked up, senselessly in their rapture251 and their dread, to his.
“Quick, quick!” she gasped252. “The hours go so fast; while we speak here he ——”
The words died in her throat. The Marshal swung around with a rapid sign to a staff officer.
“Pens and ink! Instantly! My brave child, what can we say to you? I will send an aid to arrest the execution of the sentence. It must be deferred253 till we know the whole truth of this. If it be as it looks now, he shall be saved if the Empire can save him!”
She looked up in his eyes with a look that froze his very heart.
“His honor!” she muttered; “his honor — if not his life!”
He understood her; he bowed his haughty254 head low down to hers.
“True. We will cleanse255 that, if all other justice be too late.”
The answer was infinitely256 gentle, infinitely solemn. Then he turned and wrote his hurried order, and bade his aid go with it without a second’s loss. But Cigarette caught it from his hand.
“To me! to me! No other will go so fast!”
“But, my child, you are worn out already.”
She turned on him her beautiful, wild eyes, in which the blinding, passionate tears were floating.
“Do you think I would tarry for that? Ah! I wish that I had let them tell me of God, that I might ask Him now to bless you! Quick, quick! Lend me your swiftest horse! One that will not tire. And send a second order by your aid-decamp; the Arabs may kill me as I go, and then, they will not know!”
He stooped and touched her little, brown, scorched, feverish257 hand with reverence258.
“My child, Africa has shown me much heroism, but none like yours. If you fall, he shall be safe, and France will know how to avenge165 its darling’s loss.”
She turned and gave him one look, infinitely sweet, infinitely eloquent259.
“Ah, France!” she said, so softly that the last word was but a sign of unutterable tenderness. The old, imperishable early love was not dethroned; it was there, still before all else. France was without rival with her.
Then, without another second’s pause, she flew from them, and vaulting260 into the saddle of a young horse which stood without in the court-yard, rode once more, at full speed out into the pitiless blaze of the sun, out to the wasted desolation of the plains.
The order of release, indeed, was in her bosom; but the chances were as a million to one that she would reach him with it in time, ere with the rising of the sun his life would have set forever.
All the horror of remorse was on her; to her nature the bitter jealousy in which she had desired vengeance on him seemed to have rendered her a murderess. She loved him — loved him with an exceeding passion; and only in this extremity262, when it was confronted with the imminence263 of death, did the fullness and the greatness of that love make their way out of the petulant264 pride and the wounded vanity which had obscured them. She had been ere now a child and a hero; beneath this blow which struck at him she changed — she became a woman and a martyr.
And she rode at full speed through the night, as she had done through the daylight, her eyes glancing all around in the keen instinct of a trooper, her hand always on the butt265 of her belt pistol. For she knew well what the danger was of these lonely, unguarded, untraveled leagues that yawned in so vast a distance between her and her goal. The Arabs, beaten, but only rendered furious by defeat, swept down on to those plains with the old guerrilla skill, the old marvelous rapidity. She knew that with every second shot or steel might send her reeling from her saddle; that with every moment she might be surrounded by some desperate band who would spare neither her sex nor her youth. But that intoxication266 of peril267, the wine-draught she had drunk from her infancy268, was all which sustained her in that race with death. It filled her veins with their old heat, her heart with its old daring, her nerves with their old matchless courage; but for it she would have dropped, heart-sick with terror and despair, ere her errand could be done; under it she had the coolness, the keenness, the sagacity, the sustained force, and the supernatural strength of some young hunted animal. They might slay269 her, so that she left perforce her mission unaccomplished; but no dread of such a fate had even an instant’s power to appall270 her or arrest her. While there should be breath in her, she would go on to the end.
There were eight hours’ hard riding before her, at the swiftest pace her horse could make; and she was already worn by the leagues already traversed. Although this was nothing new that she did now, yet as time flew on and she flew with it, ceaselessly, through the dim, solitary271, barren moonlit land, her brain now and then grew giddy, her heart now and then stood still with a sudden numbing272 faintness. She shook the weakness off her with the resolute scorn for it of her nature, and succeeded in its banishment273. They had put in her hand, as she had passed through the fortress gates, a lance with a lantern muffled274 in Arab fashion, so that the light was unseen from before, while it streamed over herself, to enable her to guide her way if the moon should be veiled by clouds. With that single, starry275 gleam aslant276 on a level with her eyes, she rode through the ghastly twilight277 of the half-lit plains; now flooded with luster as the moon emerged, now engulfed278 in darkness as the stormy western winds drove the cirrhi over it. But neither darkness nor light differed to her; she noted279 neither; she was like one drunk with strong wine, and she had but one dread — that the power of her horse would give way under the unnatural280 strain made on it, and that she would reach too late, when the life she went to save would have fallen forever, silent unto death, as she had seen the life of Marquise fall.
Hour on hour, league on league, passed away; she felt the animal quiver under the spur, and she heard the catch in his panting breath as he strained to give his fleetest and best, that told her how, ere long, the racing281 speed, the extended gallop at which she kept him, would tell, and beat him down, despite his desert strain. She had no pity; she would have killed twenty horses under her to reach her goal. She was giving her own life, she was willing to lose it, if by its loss she did this thing, to save even the man condemned to die with the rising of the sun. She did not spare herself; and she would have spared no living thing, to fulfill282 the mission that she undertook. She loved with the passionate blindness of her sex, with the absolute abandonment of the southern blood. If to spare him she must have bidden thousands fall, she would have given the word for their destruction without a moment’s pause.
Once, from some screen of gaunt and barren rock, a shot was fired at her, and flew within a hair’s breadth of her brain; she never even looked around to see whence it had come; she knew it was from some Arab prowler of the plains. Her single spark of light through the half-veiled lantern passed as swiftly as a shooting-star across the plateau. And as she felt the hours steal on — so fast, so hideously283 fast — with that horrible relentlessness284 which tarries for no despair, as it hastens for no desire, her lips grew dry as dust, her tongue clove285 to the roof of her mouth, the blood beat like a thousand hammers on her brain.
What she dreaded came.
Midway in her course, when, by the stars, she knew midnight was passed, the animal strained with hard-drawn, panting gasps286 to answer the demand made on him by the spur and by the lance-shaft with which he was goaded287 onward288. In the lantern light she saw his head stretched out in the racing agony, his distended eyeballs, his neck covered with foam and blood, his heaving flanks that seemed bursting with every throb130 that his heart gave; she knew that, half a league more forced from him, he would drop like a dead thing never to rise again. She let the bridle289 drop upon the poor beast’s neck, and threw her arms above her head with a shrill290, wailing291 cry, whose despair echoed over the noiseless plains like the cry of a shot-stricken animal. She saw it all: the breaking of the rosy292, golden day; the stillness of the hushed camp; the tread of the few picked men; the open coffin293 by the open grave; the leveled carbines gleaming in the first rays of the sun . . . She had seen it so many times — seen it to the awful end, when the living man fell down in the morning light a shattered, senseless, soulless, crushed-out mass.
That single moment was all the soldier’s nature in her gave to the abandonment of despair, to the paralysis294 that seized her. With that one cry from the depths of her breaking heart, the weakness spent itself; she knew that action alone could aid him. She looked across, southward and northward295, east and west, to see if there were aught near from which she could get aid. If there were none, the horse must drop down to die, and with his life the other life would perish as surely as the sun would rise.
Her gaze, straining through the darkness, broken here and there by fitful gleams of moonlight, caught sight in the distance of some yet darker thing, moving rapidly — a large cloud skimming the earth. She let the horse, which had paused the instant the bridle had touched his neck, stand still a while, and kept her eyes fixed on the advancing cloud till, with the marvelous surety of her desert-trained vision, she disentangled it from the floating mists and wavering shadows and recognized it, as it was, a band of Arabs.
If she turned eastward296 out of her route, the failing strength of her horse would be fully174 enough to take her into safety from their pursuit, or even from their perception, for they were coming straightly and swiftly across the plain. If she were seen by them, she was certain of her fate; they could only be the desperate remnant of the decimated tribes, the foraging297 raiders of starving and desperate men, hunted from refuge to refuge, and carrying fire and sword in their vengeance wherever an unprotected caravan198 or a defenseless settlement gave them the power of plunder and of slaughter, that spared neither age nor sex. She was known throughout the length and the breadth of the land to the Arabs; she was neither child nor woman to them; she was but the soldier who had brought up the French reserve at Zaraila; she was but the foe who had seen them defeated, and ridden down with her comrades in their pursuit in twice a score of vanquished298, bitter, intolerably shameful days. Some among them had sworn by their God to put her to a fearful death if ever they made her captive, for they held her in superstitious299 awe, and thought the spell of the Frankish successes would be broken if she were slain300. She knew that; yet, knowing it, she looked at their advancing band one moment, then turned her horse’s head and rode straight toward them.
“They will kill me, but that may save him,” she thought. “Any other way he is lost.”
So she rode directly toward them; rode so that she crossed their front, and placed herself in their path, standing quite still, with the cloth torn from the lantern, so that its light fell full about her, as she held it above her head. In an instant they knew her. They were the remnant who had escaped from the carnage of Zaraila; they knew her with all the rapid, unerring surety of hate. They gave the shrill, wild war-shout of their tribe, and the whole mass of gaunt, dark, mounted figures with their weapons whirling round their heads inclosed her; a cloud of kites settled down with their black wings and cruel beaks301 upon one young silvery-plumed falcon302.
She sat unmoved, and looked up at the naked blades that flashed above her; there was no fear upon her face, only a calm, resolute, proud beauty — very pale, very still in the light that gleamed on it from the lantern rays.
“I surrender,” she said briefly; she had never thought to say these words of submission to her scorned foes303; she would not have been brought to utter them to spare her own existence. Their answer was a yell of furious delight, and their bare blades smote each other with a clash of brutal joy. They had her, the Frankish child who had brought shame and destruction on them at Zaraila, and they longed to draw their steel across the fair young throat, to plunge304 their lances into the bright, bare bosom, to twine305 her hair round their spear handles, to rend261 her delicate limbs apart, as a tiger rends306 the antelope, to torture, to outrage, to wreak307 their vengeance on her. Their chief, only, motioned their violence back from her, and bade them leave her untouched. At him she looked still with the same fixed, serene, scornful resolve; she had encountered these men so often in battle, she knew so well how rich a prize she was to him. But she had one thought alone with her; and for it she subdued308 contempt, and hate, and pride, and every passion in her.
“I surrender,” she said, with the same tranquillity309. “I have heard that you have sworn by your God and your Prophet to tear me limb from limb because that I— a child, and a woman-child — brought you to shame and to grief on the day of Zaraila. Well, I am here; do it. You can slake310 your will on me. But that you are brave men, and that I have ever met you in fair fight, let me speak one word with you first.”
Through the menaces and the rage around her, fierce as the yelling of starving wolves around a frozen corpse311, her clear, brave tones reached the ear of the chief in the lingua sabir that she used. He was a young man, and his ear was caught by that tuneful voice, his eyes by that youthful face. He signed upward the swords of his followers312, and motioned them back as their arms were stretched to seize her, and their shouts clamored for her slaughter.
“Speak on,” he said briefly to her.
“You have sworn to take my body, sawn in two, to Ben–Ihreddin?” she pursued, naming the Arab leader whom her Spahis had driven off the field of Zaraila. “Well, here it is; you can take it to him; and you will receive the piasters, and the horses, and the arms that he has promised to whoever shall slay me. I have surrendered; I am yours. But you are bold men, and the bold are never mean; therefore, I will ask one thing of you. There is a man yonder, in my camp, condemned to death with the dawn. He is innocent. I have ridden from Algiers today with the order of his release. If it is not there by sunrise he will be shot; and he is guiltless as a child unborn. My horse is worn out; he could not go another half league. I knew that, since he had failed, my comrade would perish, unless I found a fresh beast or a messenger to go in my stead. I saw your band come across the plain. I knew that you would kill me, because of your oath and of your Emir’s bride; but I thought that you would have greatness enough in you to save this man who is condemned, without crime, and who must perish unless you, his foes, have pity on him. Therefore I came. Take the paper that frees him; send your fleetest and surest with it, under a flag of truce313, into our camp by the dawn; let him tell them there that I, Cigarette, gave it him. He must say no word of what you have done to me, or his white flag will not protect him from the vengeance of my army — and then receive your reward from your chief, Ben–Ihreddin, when you lay my head down for his horse’s hoofs to trample314 into the dust. Answer me — is the compact fair? Ride on with this paper northward, and then kill me with what torments315 you choose.”
She spoke with calm, unwavering resolve, meaning that which she uttered to its very uttermost letter. She knew that these men had thirsted for her blood; she offered it to be shed to gain for him that messenger on whose speed his life was hanging. She knew that a price was set upon her head; but she delivered herself over to the hands of her enemies so that thereby316 she might purchase his redemption.
As they heard, silence fell upon the brutal, clamorous317 herd318 around — the silence of amaze and of respect. The young chief listened gravely; by the glistening319 of his keen, black eyes, he was surprised and moved, though, true to his teaching, he showed neither emotion as he answered her.
“Who is this Frank for whom you do this thing?”
“He is the warrior320 to whom you offered life on the field of Zaraila because his courage was as the courage of gods.”
She knew the qualities of the desert character; knew how to appeal to its reverence and to its chivalry321.
“And for what does he perish?” he asked.
“Because he forgot for once that he was a slave, and because he has borne the burden of guilt that was not his own.”
They were quite still now, closed around her; these ferocious322 plunderers, who had been thirsty a moment before to sheathe323 their weapons in her body, were spellbound by the sympathy of courageous324 souls, by some vague perception that there was a greatness in this little tigress of France, whom they had sworn to hunt down and slaughter, which surpassed all they had known or dreamed.
“And you have given yourself up to us that, by your death, you may purchase a messenger from us for this errand?” pursued their leader. He had been reared as a boy in the high tenets and the pure chivalries of the school of Abd-el-Kader; and they were not lost in him, despite the crimes and the desperation of his life.
She held the paper out to him, with a passionate entreaty325 breaking through the enforced calm of despair with which she had hitherto spoken.
“Cut me in ten thousand pieces with your swords, but save him, as you are brave men, as you are generous foes!”
With a single sign of his hand their leader waved them back where they crowded around her, and leaped down from his saddle, and led the horse he had dismounted to her.
“Maiden,” he said gently, “we are Arabs, but we are not brutes326. We swore to avenge ourselves on an enemy; we are not vile enough to accept a martyrdom. Take my horse — he is the swiftest of my troop — and go you on your errand. You are safe from me.”
She looked at him in stupor; the sense of his words was not tangible327 to her; she had had no hope, no thought, that they would ever deal thus with her; all she had ever dreamed of was so to touch their hearts and their generosity328 that they would spare one from among their troop to do the errand of mercy she had begged of them.
“You play with me!” she murmured, while her lips grew whiter and her great eyes larger in the intensity of her emotion. “Ah! for pity’s sake, make haste and kill me, so that this only may reach him!”
The chief, standing by her, lifted her up in his sinewy arms, up on to the saddle of his charger. His voice was very solemn, his glance was very gentle; all the nobility of the highest Arab nature was aroused in him at the heroism of a child, a girl, an infidel — one, in his sight abandoned and shameful among her sex.
“Go in peace,” he said simply; “it is not with such as thee that we war.”
Then, and then only, as she felt the fresh reins329 placed in her hand, and saw the ruthless horde around her fall back and leave her free, did she understand his meaning; did she comprehend that he gave her back both liberty and life, and, with the surrender of the horse he loved, the noblest and most precious gift that the Arab ever bestows330 or ever receives. The unutterable joy seemed to blind her, and gleam upon her face like the blazing light of noon, as she turned her burning eyes full on him.
“Ah! now I believe that thine Allah rules thee, equally with Christians331! If I live, thou shalt see me back ere another night; if I die, France will know how to thank thee!”
“We do not do the thing that is right for the sake that men may recompense us,” he answered her gently. “Fly to thy friend, and hereafter do not judge that those who are in arms against thee must needs be as the brutes that seek out whom they shall devour332.”
Then, with one word in his own tongue, he bade the horse bear her southward, and, as swiftly as a spear launched from his hand, the animal obeyed him and flew across the plains. He looked after a while, through the dim, tremulous darkness that seemed cleft by the rush of the gallop as the clouds are cleft by lightning, while his tribe sat silent on their horses in moody333, unwilling42 consent; savage in that they had been deprived of prey334, moved in that they were sensible of this martyrdom which had been offered to them.
“Verily the courage of a woman has put the best among us unto shame,” he said, rather to himself than them, as he mounted the stallion brought him from the rear and rode slowly northward; unconscious that the thing he had done was great, because conscious only that it was just.
And, borne by the fleetness of the desert-bred beast, she went away through the heavy, bronze-hued dullness of the night. Her brain had no sense, her hands had no feeling, her eyes had no sight; the rushing of waters was loud on her ears, the giddiness of fasting and of fatigue sent the gloom eddying335 round and round like a whirlpool of shadow. Yet she had remembrance enough left to ride on, and on, and on without once flinching336 from the agonies that racked her cramped337 limbs and throbbed338 in her beating temples; she had remembrance enough to strain her blind eyes toward the east and murmur137, in her terror of that white dawn, that must soon break, the only prayer that had been ever uttered by the lips no mother’s kiss had ever touched:
“O God! keep the day back!”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
transparent
|
|
| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
densely
|
|
| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
throng
|
|
| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
dissent
|
|
| n./v.不同意，持异议 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
countenances
|
|
| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
arraigned
|
|
| v.告发( arraign的过去式和过去分词 )；控告；传讯；指责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
foe
|
|
| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
mutinous
|
|
| adj.叛变的，反抗的；adv.反抗地，叛变地；n.反抗，叛变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
serene
|
|
| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
repose
|
|
| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
lust
|
|
| n.性(淫)欲；渴(欲)望；vi.对…有强烈的欲望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
luster
|
|
| n.光辉；光泽，光亮；荣誉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
heroism
|
|
| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
reticence
|
|
| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
accusation
|
|
| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
defense
|
|
| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
cavalry
|
|
| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
motive
|
|
| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
incited
|
|
| 刺激，激励，煽动( incite的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
entreaties
|
|
| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
defender
|
|
| n.保卫者，拥护者，辩护人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
accurately
|
|
| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
briefly
|
|
| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
enrolled
|
|
| adj.入学登记了的v.[亦作enrol]( enroll的过去式和过去分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
sedition
|
|
| n.煽动叛乱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
interrogated
|
|
| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
censure
|
|
| v./n.责备；非难；责难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
justified
|
|
| a.正当的，有理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
inveighed
|
|
| v.猛烈抨击，痛骂，谩骂( inveigh的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
syllable
|
|
| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
construed
|
|
| v.解释（陈述、行为等）( construe的过去式和过去分词 )；翻译，作句法分析 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
regiment
|
|
| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
elicited
|
|
| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
deference
|
|
| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
unwillingness
|
|
| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
unwilling
|
|
| adj.不情愿的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
extenuation
|
|
| n.减轻罪孽的借口；酌情减轻；细 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
antagonist
|
|
| n.敌人，对抗者，对手 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
liar
|
|
| n.说谎的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
traducer
|
|
| n.诽谤者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
48
submission
|
|
| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
vindication
|
|
| n.洗冤，证实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
legacies
|
|
| n.遗产( legacy的名词复数 )；遗留之物；遗留问题；后遗症 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
precedents
|
|
| 引用单元； 范例( precedent的名词复数 )； 先前出现的事例； 前例； 先例 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
extort
|
|
| v.勒索，敲诈，强要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
exonerate
|
|
| v.免除责任，确定无罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
condemned
|
|
| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
immunity
|
|
| n.优惠；免除；豁免，豁免权 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
babble
|
|
| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
shameful
|
|
| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
courteous
|
|
| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
resolute
|
|
| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
suspense
|
|
| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
vindicated
|
|
| v.澄清（某人/某事物）受到的责难或嫌疑( vindicate的过去式和过去分词 )；表明或证明（所争辩的事物）属实、正当、有效等；维护 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
forfeited
|
|
| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
doom
|
|
| n.厄运，劫数；v.注定，命定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
aristocrat
|
|
| n.贵族，有贵族气派的人，上层人物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
brigands
|
|
| n.土匪，强盗( brigand的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
brigand
|
|
| n.土匪，强盗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
plunder
|
|
| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
slaughter
|
|
| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
assassination
|
|
| n.暗杀；暗杀事件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
awe
|
|
| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
ravenous
|
|
| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
sobs
|
|
| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
sinewy
|
|
| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
bent
|
|
| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
acquiescence
|
|
| n.默许；顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
martyr
|
|
| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
casement
|
|
| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
carving
|
|
| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
mellow
|
|
| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
poise
|
|
| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
meditation
|
|
| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
joyous
|
|
| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
labor
|
|
| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
elastic
|
|
| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
harmonious
|
|
| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
moorish
|
|
| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
hue
|
|
| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
hues
|
|
| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
lizard
|
|
| n.蜥蜴，壁虎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
glide
|
|
| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
vengeance
|
|
| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
passionate
|
|
| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
patrician
|
|
| adj.贵族的，显贵的；n.贵族；有教养的人；罗马帝国的地方官 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
reticent
|
|
| adj.沉默寡言的；言不如意的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
dubious
|
|
| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
mused
|
|
| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
vendetta
|
|
| n.世仇，宿怨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
humiliation
|
|
| n.羞辱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
degradation
|
|
| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
pang
|
|
| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
pinion
|
|
| v.束缚；n.小齿轮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
corps
|
|
| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
caressed
|
|
| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
wilt
|
|
| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
hawk
|
|
| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
scrawl
|
|
| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
blotted
|
|
| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
blanched
|
|
| v.使变白( blanch的过去式 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
scorch
|
|
| v.烧焦，烤焦；高速疾驶；n.烧焦处，焦痕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
distended
|
|
| v.（使）膨胀，肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
shuddering
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
stifling
|
|
| a.令人窒息的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
doomed
|
|
| 命定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
parched
|
|
| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
veins
|
|
| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
swelling
|
|
| n.肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
throb
|
|
| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
throbbing
|
|
| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
antelope
|
|
| n.羚羊；羚羊皮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
quay
|
|
| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
throngs
|
|
| n.人群( throng的名词复数 )v.成群，挤满( throng的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
bazaar
|
|
| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
lithe
|
|
| adj.(指人、身体)柔软的，易弯的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
mischievous
|
|
| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
stifled
|
|
| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
recoiled
|
|
| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
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： |
|
|
|
|
143
curtly
|
|
| adv.简短地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
hoarsely
|
|
| adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
recess
|
|
| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
remorse
|
|
| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
fixedly
|
|
| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
catastrophe
|
|
| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
hideousness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
contrition
|
|
| n.悔罪，痛悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
shuddered
|
|
| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
cowardice
|
|
| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
hissed
|
|
| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
clenched
|
|
| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
miser
|
|
| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
misery
|
|
| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
heeded
|
|
| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
imploring
|
|
| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
rebuke
|
|
| v.指责，非难，斥责 [反]praise | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
smote
|
|
| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
avenged
|
|
| v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 )；为…报复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
avenge
|
|
| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
chastisement
|
|
| n.惩罚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
timorous
|
|
| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
disdain
|
|
| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
ascendancy
|
|
| n.统治权，支配力量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
stupor
|
|
| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
dictated
|
|
| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
lawfully
|
|
| adv.守法地，合法地；合理地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
fully
|
|
| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
undo
|
|
| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
176
fiery
|
|
| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
177
torrent
|
|
| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
178
rigid
|
|
| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
179
sublime
|
|
| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
180
scion
|
|
| n.嫩芽，子孙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
181
darts
|
|
| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
182
slung
|
|
| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
183
hoofs
|
|
| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
184
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
185
chaff
|
|
| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
186
gallop
|
|
| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
187
alabaster
|
|
| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
188
stanch
|
|
| v.止住（血等）；adj.坚固的；坚定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
189
westward
|
|
| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
190
swerved
|
|
| v.（使）改变方向，改变目的( swerve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
191
cleft
|
|
| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
192
interval
|
|
| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
193
ordained
|
|
| v.任命（某人）为牧师( ordain的过去式和过去分词 )；授予（某人）圣职；（上帝、法律等）命令；判定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
194
foam
|
|
| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
195
craves
|
|
| 渴望，热望( crave的第三人称单数 )； 恳求，请求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
196
strings
|
|
| n.弦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
197
mules
|
|
| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
198
caravan
|
|
| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
199
caravans
|
|
| （可供居住的）拖车（通常由机动车拖行）( caravan的名词复数 )； 篷车； （穿过沙漠地带的）旅行队（如商队） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
200
scorched
|
|
| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
201
monotonous
|
|
| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
202
foliage
|
|
| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
203
weird
|
|
| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
204
irresistible
|
|
| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
205
fascination
|
|
| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
206
reeking
|
|
| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
207
fortress
|
|
| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
208
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
209
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
210
bristled
|
|
| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
211
cannon
|
|
| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
212
supreme
|
|
| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
213
dreaded
|
|
| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
214
contemplated
|
|
| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
215
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
216
avarice
|
|
| n.贪婪；贪心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
217
begrudges
|
|
| 嫉妒( begrudge的第三人称单数 )； 勉强做； 不乐意地付出； 吝惜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
218
grudged
|
|
| 怀恨（grudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
219
hoarded
|
|
| v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
220
ordnance
|
|
| n.大炮，军械 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
221
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
222
brass
|
|
| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
223
saluted
|
|
| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
224
quailed
|
|
| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
225
eloquence
|
|
| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
226
pangs
|
|
| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
227
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
228
splendor
|
|
| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
229
offense
|
|
| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
230
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
231
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
232
galley
|
|
| 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； | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
233
dolt
|
|
| n.傻瓜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
234
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
235
softened
|
|
| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
236
inflexibility
|
|
| n.不屈性，顽固，不变性；不可弯曲；非挠性；刚性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
237
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
238
oratory
|
|
| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
239
monarch
|
|
| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
240
rebellious
|
|
| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
241
lashed
|
|
| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
242
potent
|
|
| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
243
scourge
|
|
| n.灾难，祸害；v.蹂躏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
244
horde
|
|
| n.群众，一大群 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
245
corona
|
|
| n.日冕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
246
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
247
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
248
intensity
|
|
| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
249
banished
|
|
| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
250
instinctively
|
|
| adv.本能地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
251
rapture
|
|
| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
252
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
253
deferred
|
|
| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
254
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
255
cleanse
|
|
| vt.使清洁，使纯洁，清洗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
256
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
257
feverish
|
|
| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
258
reverence
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
259
eloquent
|
|
| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
260
vaulting
|
|
| n.（天花板或屋顶的）拱形结构 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
261
rend
|
|
| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
262
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
263
imminence
|
|
| n.急迫，危急 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
264
petulant
|
|
| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
265
butt
|
|
| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
266
intoxication
|
|
| n.wild excitement;drunkenness；poisoning | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
267
peril
|
|
| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
268
infancy
|
|
| n.婴儿期；幼年期；初期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
269
slay
|
|
| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
270
appall
|
|
| vt.使惊骇，使大吃一惊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
271
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
272
numbing
|
|
| adj.使麻木的，使失去感觉的v.使麻木，使麻痹( numb的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
273
banishment
|
|
| n.放逐，驱逐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
274
muffled
|
|
| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
275
starry
|
|
| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
276
aslant
|
|
| adv.倾斜地；adj.斜的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
277
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
278
engulfed
|
|
| v.吞没，包住( engulf的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
279
noted
|
|
| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
280
unnatural
|
|
| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
281
racing
|
|
| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
282
fulfill
|
|
| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
283
hideously
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常讨厌地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
284
relentlessness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
285
clove
|
|
| n.丁香味 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
286
gasps
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
287
goaded
|
|
| v.刺激( goad的过去式和过去分词 )；激励；（用尖棒）驱赶；驱使（或怂恿、刺激）某人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
288
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
289
bridle
|
|
| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
290
shrill
|
|
| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
291
wailing
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
292
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
293
coffin
|
|
| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
294
paralysis
|
|
| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
295
northward
|
|
| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
296
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
297
foraging
|
|
| v.搜寻（食物），尤指动物觅（食）( forage的现在分词 )；（尤指用手）搜寻（东西） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
298
vanquished
|
|
| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
299
superstitious
|
|
| adj.迷信的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
300
slain
|
|
| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
301
beaks
|
|
| n.鸟嘴( beak的名词复数 )；鹰钩嘴；尖鼻子；掌权者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
302
falcon
|
|
| n.隼，猎鹰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
303
foes
|
|
| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
304
plunge
|
|
| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
305
twine
|
|
| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
306
rends
|
|
| v.撕碎( rend的第三人称单数 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
307
wreak
|
|
| v.发泄；报复 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
308
subdued
|
|
| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
309
tranquillity
|
|
| n. 平静, 安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
310
slake
|
|
| v.解渴，使平息 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
311
corpse
|
|
| n.尸体，死尸 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
312
followers
|
|
| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
313
truce
|
|
| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
314
trample
|
|
| vt.踩，践踏；无视，伤害，侵犯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
315
torments
|
|
| （肉体或精神上的）折磨，痛苦( torment的名词复数 )； 造成痛苦的事物[人] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
316
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
317
clamorous
|
|
| adj.吵闹的，喧哗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
318
herd
|
|
| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
319
glistening
|
|
| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
320
warrior
|
|
| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
321
chivalry
|
|
| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
322
ferocious
|
|
| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
323
sheathe
|
|
| v.（将刀剑）插入鞘；包，覆盖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
324
courageous
|
|
| adj.勇敢的，有胆量的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
325
entreaty
|
|
| n.恳求，哀求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
326
brutes
|
|
| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
327
tangible
|
|
| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
328
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
329
reins
|
|
| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
330
bestows
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
331
Christians
|
|
| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
332
devour
|
|
| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
333
moody
|
|
| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
334
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
335
eddying
|
|
| 涡流，涡流的形成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
336
flinching
|
|
| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
337
cramped
|
|
| a.狭窄的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
338
throbbed
|
|
| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |