Mr Jones, after repeated shivering fits, and after drinking much hot tea, had apparently7 fallen into deep slumber8. He had very peremptorily9 discouraged attempts at conversation on the part of his faithful follower10. Ricardo listened to his regular breathing. It was all very well for the governor. He looked upon it as a sort of sport. A gentleman naturally would. But this ticklish11 and important job had to be pulled off at all costs, both for honour and for safety. Ricardo rose quietly, and made his way on the veranda12. He could not lie still. He wanted to go out for air, and he had a feeling that by the force of his eagerness even the darkness and the silence could be made to yield something to his eyes and ears.
He noted13 the stars, and stepped back again into the dense14 darkness. He resisted the growing impulse to go out and steal towards the other bungalow15. It would have been madness to start prowling in the dark on unknown ground. And for what end? Unless to relieve the oppression. Immobility lay on his limbs like a leaden garment. And yet he was unwilling16 to give up. He persisted in his objectless vigil. The man of the island was keeping quiet.
It was at that moment that Ricardo’s eyes caught the vanishing red trail of light made by the cigar — a startling revelation of the man’s wakefulness. He could not suppress a low “Hallo!” and began to sidle along towards the door, with his shoulders rubbing the wall. For all he knew, the man might have been out in front by this time, observing the veranda. As a matter of fact, after flinging away the cheroot, Heyst had gone indoors with the feeling of a man who gives up an unprofitable occupation. But Ricardo fancied he could hear faint footfalls on the open ground, and dodged17 quickly into the room. There he drew breath, and meditated19 for a while. His next step was to feel for the matches on the tall desk, and to light the candle. He had to communicate to his governor views and reflections of such importance that it was absolutely necessary for him to watch their effect on the very countenance20 of the hearer. At first he had thought that these matters could have waited till daylight; but Heyst’s wakefulness, disclosed in that startling way, made him feel suddenly certain that there could be no sleep for him that night.
He said as much to his governor. When the little dagger-like flame had done its best to dispel21 the darkness, Mr. Jones was to be seen reposing22 on a camp bedstead, in a distant part of the room. A railway rug concealed23 his spare form up to his very head, which rested on the other railway rug rolled up for a pillow. Ricardo plumped himself down cross-legged on the floor, very close to the low bedstead; so that Mr. Jones — who perhaps had not been so very profoundly asleep — on opening his eyes found them conveniently levelled at the face of his secretary.
“Eh? What is it you say? No sleep for you tonight? But why can’t you let ME sleep? Confound your fussiness24!”
“Because that there fellow can’t sleep — that’s why. Dash me if he hasn’t been doing a think just now! What business has he to think in the middle of the night?”
“How do you know?”
“He was out, sir — up in the middle of the night. My own eyes saw it.”
“But how do you know that he was up to think?” inquired Mr. Jones. “It might have been anything — toothache, for instance. And you may have dreamed it for all I know. Didn’t you try to sleep?”
“No, sir. I didn’t even try to go to sleep.”
Ricardo informed his patron of his vigil on the veranda, and of the revelation which put an end to it. He concluded that a man up with a cigar in the middle of the night must be doing a think.
Mr Jones raised himself on his elbow. This sign of interest comforted his faithful henchman.
“Seems to me it’s time we did a little think ourselves,” added Ricardo, with more assurance. Long as they had been together the moods of his governor were still a source of anxiety to his simple soul.
“You are always making a fuss,” remarked Mr. Jones, in a tolerant tone.
“Ay, but not for nothing, am I? You can’t say that, sir. Mine may not be a gentleman’s way of looking round a thing, but it isn’t a fool’s way, either. You’ve admitted that much yourself at odd times.”
Ricardo was growing warmly argumentative. Mr. Jones interrupted him without heat.
“You haven’t roused me to talk about yourself, I presume?”
“No, sir.” Ricardo remained silent for a minute, with the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth. “I don’t think I could tell you anything about myself that you don’t know,” he continued. There was a sort of amused satisfaction in his tone which changed completely as he went on. “It’s that man, over there, that’s got to be talked over. I don’t like him.”
He, failed to observe the flicker25 of a ghastly smile on his governor’s lips.
“Don’t you?” murmured Mr. Jones, whose face, as he reclined on his elbow, was on a level with the top of his follower’s head.
“No, sir,” said Ricardo emphatically. The candle from the other side of the room threw his monstrous27 black shadow on the wall. “He — I don’t know how to say it — he isn’t hearty-like.”
Mr Jones agreed languidly in his own manner:
“He seems to be a very self-possessed man.”
“Ay, that’s it. Self —” Ricardo choked with indignation. “I would soon let out some of his self-possession through a hole between his ribs28, if this weren’t a special job!”
Mr Jones had been making his own reflections, for he asked:
“Do you think he is suspicious?”
“I don’t see very well what he can be suspicious of,” pondered Ricardo. “Yet there he was doing a think. And what could be the object of it? What made him get out of his bed in the middle of the night. ‘Tain’t fleas29, surely.”
“Bad conscience, perhaps,” suggested Mr. Jones jocularly.
His faithful secretary suffered from irritation30, and did not see the joke. In a fretful tone he declared that there was no such thing as conscience. There was such a thing as funk; but there was nothing to make that fellow funky31 in any special way. He admitted, however, that the man might have been uneasy at the arrival of strangers, because of all that plunder32 of his put away somewhere.
Ricardo glanced here and there, as if he were afraid of being overheard by the heavy shadows cast by the dim light all over the room. His patron, very quiet, spoke33 in a calm whisper:
“And perhaps that hotel-keeper has been lying to you about him. He may be a very poor devil indeed.”
Ricardo shook his head slightly. The Schombergian theory of Heyst had become in him a profound conviction, which he had absorbed as naturally as a sponge takes up water. His patron’s doubts were a wanton denying of what was self-evident; but Ricardo’s voice remained as before, a soft purring with a snarling34 undertone.
“I am sup-prised at you, sir! It’s the very way them tame ones — the common ‘yporcrits of the world — get on. When it comes to plunder drifting under one’s very nose, there’s not one of them that would keep his hands off. And I don’t blame them. It’s the way they do it that sets my back up. Just look at the story of how he got rid of that pal35 of his! Send a man home to croak36 of a cold on the chest — that’s one of your tame tricks. And d’you mean to say, sir, that a man that’s up to it wouldn’t bag whatever he could lay his hands in his ‘yporcritical way? What was all that coal business? Tame citizen dodge18; ‘yporcrisy — nothing else. No, no, sir! The thing is to extract it from him as neatly37 as possible. That’s the job; and it isn’t so simple as it looks. I reckon you have looked at it all round, sir, before you took up the notion of this trip.”
“No.” Mr. Jones was hardly audible, staring far away from his couch. “I didn’t think about it much. I was bored.”
“Ay, that you were — bad. I was feeling pretty desperate that afternoon, when that bearded softy of a landlord got talking to me about this fellow here. Quite accidentally, it was. Well, sir, here we are after a mighty38 narrow squeak39. I feel all limp yet; but never mind — his swag will pay for the lot!”
“He’s all alone here,” remarked Mr. Jones in a hollow murmur26.
“Ye-es, in a way. Yes, alone enough. Yes, you may say he is.”
“There’s that Chinaman, though.”
“Ay, there’s the Chink,” assented41 Ricardo rather absentmindedly.
He was debating in his mind the advisability of making a clean breast of his knowledge of the girl’s existence. Finally he concluded he wouldn’t. The enterprise was difficult enough without complicating42 it with an upset to the sensibilities of the gentleman with whom he had the honour of being associated. Let the discovery come of itself, he thought, and then he could swear that he had known nothing of that offensive presence.
He did not need to lie. He had only to hold his tongue.
“Yes,” he muttered reflectively, “there’s that Chink, certainly.”
At bottom, he felt a certain ambiguous respect for his governor’s exaggerated dislike of women, as if that horror of feminine presence were a sort of depraved morality; but still morality, since he counted it as an advantage. It prevented many undesirable43 complications. He did not pretend to understand it. He did not even try to investigate this idiosyncrasy of his chief. All he knew was that he himself was differently inclined, and that it did not make him any happier or safer. He did not know how he would have acted if he had been knocking about the world on his own. Luckily he was a subordinate, not a wage-slave but a follower — which was a restraint. Yes! The other sort of disposition44 simplified matters in general; it wasn’t to be gainsaid45. But it was clear that it could also complicate46 them — as in this most important and, in Ricardo’s view, already sufficiently47 delicate case. And the worst of it was that one could not tell exactly in what precise manner it would act.
It was unnatural48, he thought somewhat peevishly49. How was one to reckon up the unnatural? There were no rules for that. The faithful henchman of plain Mr. Jones, foreseeing many difficulties of a material order, decided50 to keep the girl out of the governor’s knowledge, out of his sight, too, for as long a time as it could be managed. That, alas51, seemed to be at most a matter of a few hours; whereas Ricardo feared that to get the affair properly going would take some days. Once well started, he was not afraid of his gentleman failing him. As is often the case with lawless natures, Ricardo’s faith in any given individual was of a simple, unquestioning character. For man must have some support in life.
Cross-legged, his head drooping52 a little and perfectly53 still, he might have been meditating54 in a bonze-like attitude upon the sacred syllable55 “Om.” It was a striking illustration of the untruth of appearances, for his contempt for the world was of a severely56 practical kind. There was nothing oriental about Ricardo but the amazing quietness of his pose. Mr. Jones was also very quiet. He had let his head sink on the rolled-up rug, and lay stretched out on his side with his back to the light. In that position the shadows gathered in the cavities of his eyes made them look perfectly empty. When he spoke, his ghostly voice had only to travel a few inches straight into Ricardo’s left ear.
“Why don’t you say something, now that you’ve got me awake?”
“I wonder if you were sleeping as sound as you are trying to make out, sir,” said the unmoved Ricardo.
“I wonder,” repeated Mr. Jones. “At any rate, I was resting quietly!”
“Come, sir!” Ricardo’s whisper was alarmed. “You don’t mean to say you’re going to be bored?”
“No.”
“Quite right!” The secretary was very much relieved. “There’s no occasion to be, I can tell you, sir,” he whispered earnestly. “Anything but that! If I didn’t say anything for a bit, it ain’t because there isn’t plenty to talk about. Ay, more than enough.”
“What’s the matter with you?” breathed out his patron. “Are you going to turn pessimist?”
“Me turn? No, sir! I ain’t of those that turn. You may call me hard names, if you like, but you know very well that I ain’t a croaker.” Ricardo changed his tone. “If I said nothing for a while, it was because I was meditating over the Chink, sir.”
“You were? Waste of time, my Martin. A Chinaman is unfathomable.”
Ricardo admitted that this might be so. Anyhow, a Chink was neither here nor there, as a general thing, unfathomable as he might be; but a Swedish baron57 wasn’t — couldn’t be! The woods were full of such barons58.
“I don’t know that he is so tame,” was Mr. Jones’s remark, in a sepulchral59 undertone.
“How do you mean, sir? He ain’t a rabbit, of course. You couldn’t hypnotize him, as I saw you do to more than one Dago, and other kinds of tame citizens, when it came to the point of holding them down to a game.”
“Don’t you reckon on that,” murmured plain Mr. Jones seriously.
“No, sir, I don’t, though you have a wonderful power of the eye. It’s a fact.”
“I have a wonderful patience,” remarked Mr. Jones dryly.
A dim smile flitted over the lips of the faithful Ricardo who never raised his head.
“I don’t want to try you too much, sir, but this is like no other job we ever turned our minds to.”
“Perhaps not. At any rate let us think so.”
A weariness with the monotony of life was reflected in the tone of this qualified60 assent40. It jarred on the nerves of the sanguine61 Ricardo.
“Let us think of the way to go to work,” he retorted a little impatiently. “He’s a deep one. Just look at the way he treated that chum of his. Did you ever hear of anything so low? And the artfulness of the beast — the dirty, tame artfulness!”
“Don’t you start moralizing, Martin,” said Mr. Jones warningly. “As far as I can make out the story that German hotel-keeper told you, it seems to show a certain amount of character; — and independence from common feelings which is not usual. It’s very remarkable62, if true.”
“Ay, ay! Very remarkable. It’s mighty low down, all the same,” muttered, Ricardo obstinately63. “I must say I am glad to think he will be paid off for it in a way that’ll surprise him!”
The tip of his tongue appeared lively for an instant, as if trying for the taste of that ferocious64 retribution on his compressed lips. For Ricardo was sincere in his indignation before the elementary principle of loyalty65 to a chum violated in cold blood, slowly, in a patient duplicity of years. There are standards in villainy as in virtue66, and the act as he pictured it to himself acquired an additional horror from the slow pace of that treachery so atrocious and so tame. But he understood too the educated judgement of his governor, a gentleman looking on all this with the privileged detachment of a cultivated mind, of an elevated personality.
“Ay, he’s deep — he’s artful,” he mumbled67 between his sharp teeth.
“Confound you!” Mr. Jones’s calm whisper crept into his ear. “Come to the point.”
Obedient, the secretary shook off his thoughtfulness. There was a similarity of mind between these two — one the outcast of his vices68, the other inspired by a spirit of scornful defiance69, the aggressiveness of a beast of prey70 looking upon all the tame creatures of the earth as its natural victim. Both were astute71 enough, however, and both were aware that they had plunged72 into this adventure without a sufficient scrutiny73 of detail. The figure of a lonely man far from all assistance had loomed74 up largely, fascinating and defenceless in the middle of the sea, filling the whole field of their vision. There had not seemed to be any need for thinking. As Schomberg had been saying: “Three to one.”
But it did not look so simple now in the face of that solitude75 which was like an armour76 for this man. The feeling voiced by the henchman in his own way —“We don’t seem much forwarder now we are here” was acknowledged by the silence of the patron. It was easy enough to rip a fellow up or drill a hole in him, whether he was alone or not, Ricardo reflected in low, confidential77 tones, but —
“He isn’t alone,” Mr. Jones said faintly, in his attitude of a man composed for sleep. “Don’t forget that Chinaman.” Ricardo started slightly.
“Oh, ay — the Chink!”
Ricardo had been on the point of confessing about the girl; but no! He wanted his governor to be unperturbed and steady. Vague thoughts, which he hardly dared to look in the face, were stirring his brain in connection with that girl. She couldn’t be much account, he thought. She could be frightened. And there were also other possibilities. The Chink, however, could be considered openly.
“What I was thinking about it, sir,” he went on earnestly, “is this — here we’ve got a man. He’s nothing. If he won’t be good, he can be made quiet. That’s easy. But then there’s his plunder. He doesn’t carry it in his pocket.”
“I hope not,” breathed Mr. Jones.
“Same here. It’s too big, we know, but if he were alone, he would not feel worried about it overmuch — I mean the safety of the pieces. He would just put the lot into any box or drawer that was handy.”
“Would he?”
“Yes, sir. He would keep it under his eye, as it were. Why not? It is natural. A fellow doesn’t put his swag underground, unless there’s a very good reason for it.”
“A very good reason, eh?”
“Yes, sir. What do you think a fellow is — a mole78?”
From his experience, Ricardo declared that man was not a burrowing79 beast. Even the misers80 very seldom buried their hoard81, unless for exceptional reasons. In the given situation of a man alone on an island, the company of a Chink was a very good reason. Drawers would not be safe, nor boxes, either, from a prying82, slant-eyed Chink. No, sir, unless a safe — a proper office safe. But the safe was there in the room.
“Is there a safe in this room? I didn’t notice it,” whispered Mr. Jones.
That was because the thing was painted white, like the walls of the room; and besides, it was tucked away in the shadows of a corner. Mr. Jones had been too tired to observe anything on his first coming ashore83; but Ricardo had very soon spotted84 the characteristic form. He only wished he could believe that the plunder of treachery, duplicity, and all the moral abominations of Heyst had been there. But no; the blamed thing was open.
“It might have been there at one time or another,” he commented gloomily, “but it isn’t there now.”
“The man did not elect to live in this house,” remarked Mr. Jones. “And by the by, what could he have meant by speaking of circumstances which prevented him lodging85 us in the other bungalow? You remember what he said, Martin? Sounded cryptic86.”
Martin, who remembered and understood the phrase as directly motived by the existence of the girl, waited a little before saying:
“Some of his artfulness, sir; and not the worst of it either. That manner of his to us, this asking no questions, is some more of his artfulness. A man’s bound to be curious, and he is; yet he goes on as if he didn’t care. He does care — or else what was he doing up with a cigar in the middle of the night, doing a think? I don’t like it.”
“He may be outside, observing the light here, and saying the very same thing to himself of our own wakefulness,” gravely suggested Ricardo’s governor.
“He may be, sir; but this is too important to be talked over in the dark. And the light is all right, it can be accounted for. There’s a light in this bungalow in the middle of the night because — why, because you are not well. Not well, sir — that’s what’s the matter, and you will have to act up to it.”
The consideration had suddenly occurred to the faithful henchman, in the light of a felicitous87 expedient88 to keep his governor and the girl apart as long as possible. Mr. Jones received the suggestion without the slightest stir, even in the deep sockets89 of his eyes, where a steady, faint gleam was the only thing telling of life and attention in his attenuated90 body. But Ricardo, as soon as he had enunciated91 his happy thought, perceived in it other possibilities more to the point and of greater practical advantage.
“With your looks, sir, it will be easy enough,” he went on evenly, as if no silence had intervened, always respectful, but frank, with perfect simplicity92 of purpose. “All you’ve got to do is just to lie down quietly. I noticed him looking sort of surprised at you on the wharf93, sir.”
At these words, a naive94 tribute to the aspect of his physique, even more suggestive of the grave than of the sick-bed, a fold appeared on that side of the governor’s face which was exposed to the dim light — a deep, shadowy, semicircular fold from the side of the nose to bottom of the chin — a silent smile. By a side-glance Ricardo had noted this play of features. He smiled, too, appreciative95, encouraged.
“And you as hard as nails all the time,” he went on. “Hang me if anybody would believe you aren’t sick, if I were to swear myself black in the face! Give us a day or two to look into matters and size up that ‘yporcrit.”
Ricardo’s eyes remained fixed96 on his crossed shins. The chief, in his lifeless accents, approved.
“Perhaps it would be a good idea.”
“The Chink, he’s nothing. He can be made quiet any time.”
One of Ricardo’s hands, reposing palm upwards97 on his folded legs, made a swift thrusting gesture, repeated by the enormous darting98 shadow of an arm very low on the wall. It broke the spell of perfect stillness in the room. The secretary eyed moodily99 the wall from which the shadow had gone. Anybody could be made quiet, he pointed100 out. It was not anything that the Chink could do; no, it was the effect that his company must have produced on the conduct of the doomed101 man. A man! What was a man? A Swedish baron could be ripped up, or else holed by a shot, as easily as any other creature; but that was exactly what was to be avoided, till one knew where he had hidden his plunder.
“I shouldn’t think it would be some sort of hole in his bungalow,” argued Ricardo with real anxiety.
No. A house can be burnt — set on fire accidentally, or on purpose, while a man’s asleep. Under the house — or in some crack, cranny, or crevice102? Something told him it wasn’t that. The anguish103 of mental effort contracted Ricardo’s brow. The skin of his head seemed to move in this travail104 of vain and tormenting105 suppositions.
“What did you think a fellow is, sir — a baby?” he said, in answer to Mr. Jones’s objections. “I am trying to find out what I would do myself. He wouldn’t be likely to be cleverer than I am.”
“And what do you know about yourself?”
Mr Jones seemed to watch his follower’s perplexities with amusement concealed in a death-like composure.
Ricardo disregarded the question. The material vision of the spoil absorbed all his faculties106. A great vision! He seemed to see it. A few small canvas bags tied up with thin cord, their distended107 rotundity showing the inside pressure of the disk-like forms of coins — gold, solid, heavy, eminently108 portable. Perhaps steel cash-boxes with a chased design, on the covers; or perhaps a black and brass109 box with a handle on the top, and full of goodness knows what. Bank notes? Why not? The fellow had been going home; so it was surely something worth going home with.
“And he may have put it anywhere outside — anywhere!” cried Ricardo in a deadened voice, “in the forest —”
That was it! A temporary darkness replaced the dim light of the room. The darkness of the forest at night and in it the gleam of a lantern, by which a figure is digging at the foot of a tree-trunk. As likely as not, another figure holding that lantern — ha, feminine! The girl!
The prudent110 Ricardo stifled111 a picturesque112 and profane113 exclamation114, partly joy, partly dismay. Had the girl been trusted or mistrusted by that man? Whatever it was, it was bound to be wholly! With women there could be no half-measures. He could not imagine a fellow half-trusting a woman in that intimate relation to himself, and in those particular circumstances of conquest and loneliness where no confidences could appear dangerous since, apparently, there could be no one she could give him away to. Moreover, in nine cases out of ten the woman would be trusted. But, trusted or mistrusted, was her presence a favourable115 or unfavourable condition of the problem? That was the question!
The temptation to consult his chief, to talk over the weighty fact, and get his opinion on it, was great indeed. Ricardo resisted it; but the agony of his solitary116 mental conflict was extremely sharp. A woman in a problem is an incalculable quantity, even if you have something to go upon in forming your guess. How much more so when you haven’t even once caught sight of her.
Swift as were his mental processes, he felt that a longer silence was inadvisable. He hastened to speak:
“And do you see us, sir, you and I, with a couple of spades having to tackle this whole confounded island?”
He allowed himself a slight movement of the arm. The shadow enlarged it into a sweeping117 gesture.
“This seems rather discouraging, Martin,” murmured the unmoved governor.
“We mustn’t be discouraged — that’s all!” retorted his henchman. “And after what we had to go through in that boat too! Why it would be —”
He couldn’t find the qualifying words. Very calm, faithful, and yet astute, he expressed his new-born hopes darkly.
“Something’s sure to turn up to give us a hint; only this job can’t be rushed. You may depend on me to pick up the least little bit of a hint; but you, sir — you’ve got to play him very gently. For the rest you can trust me.”
“Yes; but I ask myself what YOU are trusting to.”
“Our luck,” said the faithful Ricardo. “Don’t say a word against that. It might spoil the run of it.”
“You are a superstitious118 beggar. No, I won’t say anything against it.”
“That’s right, sir. Don’t you even think lightly of it. Luck’s not to be played with.”
“Yes, luck’s a delicate thing,” assented Mr. Jones in a dreamy whisper.
A short silence ensued, which Ricardo ended in a discreet119 and tentative voice.
“Talking of luck, I suppose he could be made to take a hand with you, sir — two-handed picket120 or ekkarty, you being seedy and keeping indoors — just to pass the time. For all we know, he may be one of them hot ones once they start —”
“Is it likely?” came coldly from the principal. “Considering what we know of his history — say with his partner.”
“True, sir. He’s a cold-blooded beast; a cold-blooded, inhuman121 —”
“And I’ll tell you another thing that isn’t likely. He would not be likely to let himself be stripped bare. We haven’t to do with a young fool that can be led on by chaff122 or flattery, and in the end simply overawed. This is a calculating man.”
Ricardo recognized that clearly. What he had in his mind was something on a small scale, just to keep the enemy busy while he, Ricardo, had time to nose around a bit.
“You could even lose a little money to him, sir,” he suggested.
“I could.”
Ricardo was thoughtful for a moment.
“He strikes me, too, as the sort of man to start prancing123 when one didn’t expect it. What do you think, sir? Is he a man that would prance124? That is, if something startled him. More likely to prance than to run — what?”
The answer came at once, because Mr. Jones understood the peculiar125 idiom of his faithful follower.
“Oh, without doubt! Without doubt!”
“It does me good to hear that you think so. He’s a prancing beast, and so we mustn’t startle him — not till I have located the stuff. Afterwards —”
Ricardo paused, sinister126 in the stillness of his pose. Suddenly he got up with a swift movement and gazed down at his chief in moody127 abstraction. Mr. Jones did not stir.
“There’s one thing that’s worrying me,” began Ricardo in a subdued128 voice.
“Only one?” was the faint comment from the motionless body on the bedstead.
“I mean more than all the others put together.”
“That’s grave news.”
“Ay, grave enough. It’s this — how do you feel in yourself, sir? Are you likely to get bored? I know them fits come on you suddenly; but surely you can tell —”
“Martin, you are an ass1.”
The moody face of the secretary brightened up.
“Really, sir? Well, I am quite content to be on these terms — I mean as long as you don’t get bored. It wouldn’t do, sir.”
For coolness, Ricardo had thrown open his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. He moved stealthily across the room, bare-footed, towards the candle, the shadow of his head and shoulders growing bigger behind him on the opposite wall, to which the face of plain Mr. Jones was turned. With a feline129 movement, Ricardo glanced over his shoulder at the thin back of the spectre reposing on the bed, and then blew out the candle.
“In fact, I am rather amused, Martin,” Mr. Jones said in the dark.
He heard the sound of a slapped thigh130 and the jubilant exclamation of his henchman:
“Good! That’s the way to talk, sir!”
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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pessimist
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| n.悲观者；悲观主义者；厌世 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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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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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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13
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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14
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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15
bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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16
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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17
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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18
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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19
meditated
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| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
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20
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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21
dispel
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| vt.驱走，驱散，消除 | |
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22
reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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23
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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24
fussiness
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| [医]易激怒 | |
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25
flicker
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| vi./n.闪烁，摇曳，闪现 | |
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26
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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27
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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28
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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29
fleas
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| n.跳蚤( flea的名词复数 )；爱财如命；没好气地（拒绝某人的要求） | |
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30
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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31
funky
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| adj.畏缩的，怯懦的，霉臭的；adj.新式的，时髦的 | |
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32
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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33
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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34
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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35
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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36
croak
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| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
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37
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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38
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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39
squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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40
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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41
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
complicating
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| 使复杂化( complicate的现在分词 ) | |
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43
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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44
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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45
gainsaid
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| v.否认，反驳( gainsay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
complicate
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| vt.使复杂化，使混乱，使难懂 | |
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47
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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48
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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49
peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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50
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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51
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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52
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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53
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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54
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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55
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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56
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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57
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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58
barons
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| 男爵( baron的名词复数 )； 巨头； 大王； 大亨 | |
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59
sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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60
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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61
sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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62
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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63
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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64
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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65
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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66
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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67
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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69
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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70
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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71
astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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72
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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73
scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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74
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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75
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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76
armour
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| （=armor）n.盔甲；装甲部队 | |
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77
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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78
mole
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| n.胎块；痣；克分子 | |
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79
burrowing
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的现在分词 )；翻寻 | |
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80
misers
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| 守财奴，吝啬鬼( miser的名词复数 ) | |
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81
hoard
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| n./v.窖藏，贮存，囤积 | |
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82
prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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83
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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84
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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85
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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86
cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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87
felicitous
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| adj.恰当的，巧妙的；n.恰当，贴切 | |
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88
expedient
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| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
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89
sockets
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| n.套接字，使应用程序能够读写与收发通讯协定(protocol)与资料的程序( Socket的名词复数 )；孔( socket的名词复数 )；（电器上的）插口；托座；凹穴 | |
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90
attenuated
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| v.（使）变细( attenuate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）变薄；（使）变小；减弱 | |
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91
enunciated
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| v.（清晰地）发音( enunciate的过去式和过去分词 )；确切地说明 | |
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92
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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93
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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94
naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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95
appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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96
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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97
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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98
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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99
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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100
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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101
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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102
crevice
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| n.(岩石、墙等)裂缝；缺口 | |
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103
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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104
travail
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| n.阵痛；努力 | |
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105
tormenting
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| 使痛苦的，使苦恼的 | |
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106
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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107
distended
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| v.（使）膨胀，肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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109
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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110
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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111
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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112
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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113
profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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114
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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115
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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116
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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117
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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118
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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119
discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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120
picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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121
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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122
chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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123
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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124
prance
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| v.（马）腾跃，(人)神气活现地走 | |
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125
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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126
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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127
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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128
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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129
feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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130
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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