“You must have plenty of courage,” she said; “and you must never, never give up your own way.”
Walter was touched to the heart by this look of trouble on the innocent, young-old face.
“I thought it was always right to give up one’s own way,” he said, in the light tone which he had come to employ with her.
She made an effort to smile in response.
“Oh yes, oh yes, it’s the fashion to say so. You are a self-denying race, to believe yourselves; but this time you must not yield.”
“To whom am I supposed to be about to yield?” he asked. “You may be sure I sha’n’t unless I can’t help myself.”
The tears overflowed8 her bright old eyes; her hands shook as they held his.
“God bless you! God bless you!” she said. “I will do nothing but pray for you, and you will tell me when you come back.”
He left her lying back upon her cushions sobbing9 under her breath. All this half-perplexed, half-amused the young man. She was a very strange little creature, he felt, neither old nor young; there was no telling the reason of her emotion. She was so much indulged in all her whims10, like a spoiled child, that perhaps these tears were only her regrets for a lost playmate. At the same time Walter knew that this was not so, and was angry with himself for the thought. But how find his way out of the perplexity? He shook it off, which is always the easiest way; and soon the landscape began to attract his attention, and he forgot by degrees that there was anything very unusual in the circumstances of his journey. It was not till the first long stage of this journey was over that he was suddenly roused to a recollection of everything involved, by the appearance of Symington at the carriage window, respectfully requesting to know whether he had wanted anything. Walter had not remembered, or if he had remembered had thought no more of it, that this quietly officious retainer had taken all trouble from him at the beginning of his journey, as he had done during his stay in Mr. Milnathort’s house.
“What! are you here?” he said, with surprise, and a mixture of amusement and offence.
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” said Symington, with profound and serious respect, yet always a twinkle in his eye, “but as the other man did not turn up—and your lordship could scarcely travel without some attendance——”
He had to rush behind to get his place in the train in the midst of his sentence, and Walter was left to think it over alone. In the balance between anger and amusement the latter fortunately won the day. The comic side of the matter came uppermost. It seemed to him very droll12 that he should be taken possession of, against his will, by the valet who professed13 an attachment14 to the race, not to the individual members of it, whose head was garlanded with crape in the quaint4 Scotch15 way for Walter’s predecessor16, and who had “identified himself with the Erradeens.” He reminded himself that he was in the country of Caleb Balderstone and Ritchie Moniplies, and he resigned himself to necessity. Symington’s comic yet so respectful consciousness that “the other man” was a mere17 imagination, was joke enough to secure his pardon, and Walter felt that though the need of attendance was quite new in his life, that it might be well on his arrival in a strange country and a lonely ruined house, to have some one with him who was not ignorant either of the locality or the household.
The country increased in interest as he went on, and by and by he forgot himself in gazing at the mountains which appeared in glimpses upon the horizon, then seemed to draw nearer, closing in upon the road, which led along by the head of one loch after another, each encompassed18 by its circle of hills. Walter knew very little about Scotland. He thought it a barren and wild country, all bleak19 and gloomy, and the lavish20 vegetation of the west filled him with surprise and admiration21. The sun was near its setting when the railway journey came to an end, and he found himself at a village station, from which a coach ran to Kinloch Houran. It appeared that there was no other vehicle to be had, and though it was cold there was nothing else for it but to clamber up on the top of the rude coach, which was a sort of char-à-banc without any interior. Walter felt that it would become him ill, notwithstanding his new rank, to grumble22 at the conveyance23, upon which there mounted nimbly a girl whom he had remarked when leaving Edinburgh, and whom he had watched for at all the pauses of the journey. He thought her the very impersonation of all he had ever heard of Scotch beauty, and so would most observers to whom Scotland is a new country. The native Scot is aware that there are as many brown locks as golden, and as many dark maidens24 as fair ones in his own country; but notwithstanding, to the stranger it is the fair who is the type. This young lady was warmly clothed in dark tweed, of the ruddy heathery hue25 which is now so general, not long enough to conceal26 her well-shod feet, closely fitting, and adapted for constant walking and movement. She seemed to be met by friends all along the route. From the carriage window Walter saw her look out with little cries of pleasure. “Oh, is that you, Jack27?” “Oh, Nelly, where are you going?” “Oh, come in here, there is room in this carriage,” and such like. She was always leaning out to say a word to somebody, either of farewell or welcome. “You will remember me to your mother,” old gentlemen would call to her, as the train went on. Walter was greatly in want of amusement, and he was at the age when a girl is always interesting. She became to him the heroine of the journey. He felt that he was collecting a great deal of information about her as they travelled on, and had begun to wonder whether he should ever find out who she was, or see any more of her, when he perceived her, to his delight, getting out, as he himself did, at Baldally. She was met by a respectable woman servant, who took possession of her baggage, while the young lady herself ran across the road to the coach, and with a hearty28 greeting to John the coachman darted29 up to the seat immediately behind him, where her maid presently joined her. Walter, and a personage of the commercial traveller class, shared the coachman’s seat in front, and Symington and some other humbler passengers sat behind. The coach was adapted for summer traffic, so that there were several lines of empty seats between the two sets of travellers. It gave Walter a great deal of pleasure to hear the soft voice of his fellow-traveller pouring forth31, low yet quite audible, an account of her journey to her maid, who was evidently on the most confidential32 terms with her young mistress.
“Has mamma missed me—much?” she asked after the little Odyssey33 was over.
“Oh, Miss Oona, to ask that,” cried the woman; “how should we no miss you?” and then there ensued a number of details on the home side. The girl had been on a visit in Edinburgh, and had gone to balls, and “seen everything.” On the other hand many small matters, faithfully reported, had filled up the time of separation. Walter listened to all this innocent interchange with great amusement and interest as the coach made its way slowly up the ascents34 of the hilly road. It was not in itself an agreeable mode of progression: the wind was icy cold, and swept through and through the unfortunates who faced it in front, sharpening into almost absolute needle points of ice when the pace quickened, and the noisy, jolting35 vehicle lumbered36 down the further side of a hill, threatening every moment to pitch the passengers into the heathery bog37 on one side or the other. He tried to diminish his own discomfort38 by the thought that he took off the icy edge of the gale39 and sheltered the little slim creature in her close ulster behind, about whose shoulders the maid had wound the snowy mass of a great white knitted shawl. The low sun was in their faces as they toiled40 and rattled41 along, and the clear wintry blue of the sky was already strewn with radiant rosy42 masses of cloud. When they reached the highest point of the road the dazzling gleam of the great loch lying at their feet and made into a mirror of steel by the last blaze of the sun before it disappeared, dazzled the young man, who could see nothing except the cold intolerable brightness; but in a moment more the scene disclosed itself. Hills all purple in the sunset, clothed with that ineffable43 velvet44 down which softens45 every outline, opened out on either side, showing long lines of indistinct green valleys and narrower ravines that ran between, all converging46 towards the broad and noble inland sea fringed with dark woods and broken with feathery islands, which was the centre of the landscape. The wonderful colour of the sky reflected in the loch, where everything found a reflection, and every knoll47 and island floated double, changed the character of the scene and neutralised the dazzling coldness of the great water-mirror. Walter’s involuntary exclamation48 at this sight stopped for a moment all the conversation going on. “By Jove,” he said, “how glorious!” They all stopped talking, the coachman, the traveller, the woman behind, and looked at him. Big John the driver, who knew everybody, eyed him with a slightly supercilious49 air, as one who felt that the new-comer could not be otherwise than contemptible50, more or less, even though his sentiments were irreproachable51. “Ay, sir—so that’s your opinion? most folk have been beforehand with ye,” said John.
The commercial traveller added, condescendingly, “It is cold weather for touring, sir; but it’s a grand country, as ye say.” And then they resumed their conversation.
The young lady behind was far more sympathetic. She made a distinct pause, and when she spoke52 again it was with a flattering adoption53 of Walter’s tone to point out to her companion how beautiful the scene was.
“The isle54 is floating too, Mysie—look! If we could get there soon enough we might land upon one of those rosy clouds.”
Walter gave a grateful glance behind him, and felt that he was understood.
“That is just your poetry, Miss Oona,” said the maid; “but, bless me, I have never told ye: there has been the light lighted in the castle these two nights past. We have just thought upon you all the time, and how much taken up you would be about it, your mamma and me.”
“The light on the castle!” cried the young lady; and at this the coachman, turning slightly round, entered into the conversation.
“That has it,” he said; “I can back her up in that; just as clear and as steady as a star. There are many that say they never can see it; but they would be clever that had not seen it these two past nights.”
“Who says they cannot see it?” said the girl, indignantly.
John gave a little flick55 to his leader, which made the whole machine vibrate and roll.
“Persons of the newfangled kind that believe in nothing,” he said. “They will tell ye it cannot be—so how can you see it? though it is glinting in their faces all the time.”
“You are meaning me, John,” said the traveller on the box-seat; “and there’s truth in what you say. I’ve seen what you call the light, and no doubt it has the appearance of a light; but if ye tell me it’s something supernatural, there can be no doubt I will answer ye that there’s nothing supernatural. If you were to tell me ye had seen a ghost, I would just reply in the same way. No, my man, I’m not impeachin’ your veracity56. You saw something, I’ll allow; but no’ a ghost, for there are no ghosts to see.”
“That’s just an awfu’ easy way of settlin’ the question,” said the maid from behind—and then she went on in a lower tone: “This will be the third night since it began, and we’ve a’ seen it on the Isle. Hamish, he says the new lord maun be of a dour57 kind to need so many warnings. And he’s feared ill will come of it; but I say the new lord, no’ bein’ here away nor of this country at all, how is he to ken11?”
The girl’s voice was now quite low, almost a whisper: but Walter being immediately in front of her could still hear. “Has anything been heard,” she said, “of the new lord?”
“Very little, Miss Oona, only that he’s a young lad from the south with no experience, and didna even know that he was the heir; so how could he ken? as I say to Hamish. But Hamish he insists that it’s in the blood, and that he would ken by instinck; and that it shows an ill-will, and ill will come of it.”
“If I were he,” cried the girl, “I would do the same. I would not be called like that from the end of the world wherever I was.”
“Oh, whisht, Miss Oona. It is such an auld58, auld story; how can the like of you say what should be done?”
“I would like myself,” said the traveller, “to come to the bottom of this business. What is it for, and who has the doing of it? The moment you speak of a light ye pre-suppose a person that lights it and mainy adjuncks and accessories. Now there’s nobody, or next to nobody, living in that auld ruin. It’s some rendeyvouss, I can easily understand that. The days of conspiracies59 are gone by, or I would say it was something against the state; but whatever it is, it must have a purpose, and mortal hands must do it, seeing there are no other. I have heard since ever I began to travel this country of the Kinloch Houran light, but I never heard a reason assigned.”
“It’s the living lord,” cried the maid, “as everybody knows! that is called to meet with——”
Here the young lady interfered60 audibly—
“Mysie, not a word!” The woman’s voice continued, stifled61 as if a hand had been laid on her mouth.
“With them that are—with ane that is—I’m saying nothing, Miss Oona, but what all the loch is well aware——”
“It’s just a ferlie of this part of the world,” said John the driver; “nae need of entering into it with them that believe naething. I’m no what ye call credulous62 mysel’; but when it comes to the evidence of a man’s ain senses——”
“And what have your senses said to ye, my fine fellow? that there’s a queer kind of a glimmer63 up upon the auld tower? So are there corpse-candles, if I’m not mistaken, seen by the initiated64 upon your burial isle—what do you call it?”
“And wha has a word to say gainst that?” cried the driver angrily; whilst Mysie behind murmured—“It’s well seen ye have naething to do with any grave there.”
Now Walter was as entirely65 free from superstition66 as any young man need be; but when he heard the laugh with which the sceptic greeted these protests, he had the greatest mind in the world to seize him by the collar and pitch him into the bog below. Why? but the impulse was quite unreasonable67 and defied explanation. He had as little faith in corpse-candles as any bagman ever had, and the embarrassed and uneasy consciousness he had that the end of his journey was inexplicable68, and its purpose ridiculous, led him much more to the conclusion that he was being placed in a ludicrous position, than that there was anything solemnly or awfully69 mysterious in it. Nevertheless, so far from ranging himself upon the side of the enlightened modern who took the common-sense view of these Highland70 traditions, his scorn and impatience71 of him was beyond words. For his own part he had not been sufficiently72 self-possessed to join in the discussion; but at this moment he ventured a question—
“Is this old castle you speak of—” here he paused not knowing how to shape his inquiry73; then added, “uninhabited?” for want of anything better to say.
“Not altogether,” said John; “there is auld Macalister and his wife that live half in the water, half out of the water. And it’s the story in the parish that there are good rooms; aye ready for my lord. But I can tell ye naething about that, for I’m always on the road, and I see nothing but a wheen tourists in the summer, that are seeking information, and have none to give, puir creatures. There’s a new lord just come to the title; ye will maybe have met with him if ye’re from the south, for he’s just an English lad.”
“England, my man John, is a wide road,” said the traveller; “there are too many for us all to know each other as ye do in a parish; this gentleman will tell ye that.”
John’s satirical explanation that he had not suspected Mr. Smith, whose northern accent was undoubted, of being an Englishman, saved Walter from any necessity of making a reply; and by this time the coach was rattling74 down upon a little homely75 inn, red-roofed and white-walled, which stood upon a knoll, overlooking the loch, and was reflected in all its brightness of colour in that mirror. The ground shelved rapidly down to the water-side, and there were several boats lying ready to put out into the loch—one a ponderous76 ferry boat, another a smaller, but still substantial and heavy, cobble, in which a man with a red shirt and shaggy locks was standing up relieved against the light. Walter jumped down hurriedly with the hope of being in time to give his hand to the young lady, who perhaps had divined his purpose, for she managed to alight on the other side and so balk77 him. The landlady78 of the little inn had come out to the door, and there was a great sound of salutations and exclamations79 of welcome. “But I mustna keep you, Miss Oona, and your mamma countin’ the moments; and there’s two or three parcels,” the woman said. The air had begun to grow a little brown, as the Italians say, that faint veil of gathering80 shade which is still not darkness, was putting out by degrees the radiance of the sky, and as Walter stood listening all the mingled81 sounds of the arrival rose together in a similar mist of sound, through which he sought for the soft little accents of the young lady’s voice amid the noises of the unharnessing, the horses’ hoofs82 and ostler’s pails, and louder tones. Presently he saw her emerge from the group with her maid, laden83 with baskets and small parcels, and embarking84 under the conduct of the man in the red shirt, whom she greeted affectionately as Hamish, assume her place in the stern, and the ropes of the rudder, with evident use and wont85. To watch her steer86 out into the darkening loch, into the dimness and cold, gave the young man a vague sensation of pain. It seemed to him as if the last possible link with the human and sympathetic was detaching itself from him. He did not know her indeed, but it does not take a long time or much personal knowledge to weave this mystic thread between one young creature and another. Most likely, he thought, she had not so much as noticed him: but she had come into the half-real dream of his existence, and touched his hand, as it were, in the vague atmosphere which separates one being from another. Now he was left with nothing around him but the darkening landscape and the noisy little crowd about the coach; no one who could give him any fellowship or encouragement in the further contact which lay before him with the mysterious and unknown.
After a few moments the landlady came towards him, smoothing down her white apron87, which made a great point in the landscape, so broad was it and so white. She smiled upon him with ingratiating looks.
“Will you be going north, sir?” she said; “or will you be biding88 for the night? Before we dish up the dinner and put the sheets on the bed we like to know.”
“Who is that young lady that has just gone away?” said Walter, not paying much attention; “and where is she going? It is late and cold for the water. Do you ever get frozen here?”
“That is Miss Oona of the Isle,” said the landlady; “but as I was saying, sir, about the beds——”
“Are the islands inhabited then?” said Walter; “and where is Kinloch Houran? Does one go there by water too?”
“No, Mistress Macgregor,” said Symington’s voice on the other side; “my lord will not bide89 here to-night. I’ve been down to the beach, and there is a boat there, but not your lordship’s own, any more than there was a carriage waiting at Baldally. We must just put our pride in our pockets, my lord, and put up with what we can get. When your lordship’s ready we’re all ready.”
By this time Big John and all the others were standing in a group staring at Lord Erradeen with all their eyes. John explained himself in a loud voice, but with an evident secret sense of shame.
“Hoo was I to ken? A lord has nae business to scour90 the country like that, like ony gangrel body—sitting on the seat just like the rest of us—Mr. Smith and him and me. Lord! hoo was I to ken? If you hear nae good of yourself, it is just your ain blame. I was thinking of no lord or any such cattle. I was just thinking upon my beasts. As for a lord that gangs about like yon, deceiving honest folk, I wouldna give that for him,” John said, snapping his finger and thumb. His voice sank at the end, and the conclusion of the speech was but half audible. Mrs. Macgregor interposing her round, soft intonation91 between the speaker and the stranger.
“Eh, my lord, I just beg your pardon! I had no notion—and I hope your lordship found them a’ civil. Big John is certainly a little quick with his tongue—”
“I hope you’re not supposing, Mistress Macgregor, that his lordship would fash himself about Big John,” said Symington, who had now taken the direction of affairs. Walter, to tell the truth, did not feel much inclination92 to enter into the discussion. The gathering chill of the night had got into his inner man. He went down towards the beach slowly pondering, taking every step with a certain hesitation93. It seemed to him that he stood on the boundary between the even ground of reality and some wild world of fiction which he did not comprehend, but had a mingled terror and hatred94 of. Behind him everything was homely and poor enough; the light streamed out of the open doors and uncovered windows, the red roof had a subdued95 glow of cheerfulness in the brown air, the sounds about were cheerful, full of human bustle96 and movement, and mutual97 good offices. The men led the horses away with a certain kindness; the landlady, with her white apron, stopped to say a friendly word to Big John, and interchanged civilities with the other humble30 passengers who were bringing her no custom, but merely passing her door to the ferry-boat that waited to take them across the loch. Everywhere there was a friendly interchange, a gleam of human warmth and mutual consolation98. But before him lay the dark water, with a dark shadow of mingled towers and trees lying upon it at some distance. He understood vaguely99 that this was Kinloch Houran, and the sight of it was not inviting100. He did not know what it might be that should meet him there, but whatever it was it repelled101 and revolted him. He seemed to be about to overpass102 some invisible boundary of truth and to venture into the false, into regions in which folly103 and trickery reigned104. There was in Walter’s mind all the sentiment of his century towards the supernatural. He had an angry disbelief in his mind, not the tranquil105 contempt of the indifferent. His annoyed and irritated scorn perhaps was nearer faith than he supposed; but he was impatient of being called upon to give any of his attention to those fables106 of the past which imposture107 only could keep up in the present. He felt that he was going to be made the victim of some trick or other. The country people evidently believed, indeed, as was natural enough to their simplicity108; but Walter felt too certain that he would see the mechanism109 behind the most artful veil to believe it possible that he himself could be taken in, even for a moment. And he had no desire to find out the contemptible imposture. He felt the whole business contemptible; the secluded110 spot, the falling night, the uninhabited place, were all part of the jugglery111. Should he voluntarily make himself a party to it, and walk into the snare112 with his eyes open? He felt sure, indeed, that he would remain with his eyes open all the time, and was not in the least likely to submit to any black art that might be exercised upon him. But he paused, and asked himself was it consistent with the dignity of a reasonable creature, a full-grown man, to allow himself to be drawn113 into any degrading contact with this jugglery at all?
The boat lay on the beach with his baggage already in it, and Symington standing respectful awaiting his master’s pleasure. Symington, no doubt, was the god out of the machinery114 who had the fin1 mot of everything and all the strings115 in his hand. What if he broke the spell peremptorily116 and retired117 to the ruddy fireside of the inn and defied family tradition? He asked himself again what would come of it? and replied to himself scornfully that nothing could come of it. What law could force him to observe an antiquated118 superstition? It was folly to threaten him with impossible penalties. And even if a thing so absurd could happen as that he should be punished in purse or property for acting119 like a man of sense instead of a fool, what then? The mere possibility of the risk made Walter more disposed to incur120 it. It was monstrous121 and insufferable that he should be made to carry out a tyrannical, antiquated stipulation122 by any penalty of the law. It would be better to fight it out once for all. All the sense of the kingdom would be with him, and he did not believe that any judge could pronounce against him. Here Symington called, with a slight tone of anxiety, “We are all ready, my lord, and waiting.” This almost decided123 Walter. He turned from the beach, and made a few hasty steps up the slope.
But then he paused again, and turning round faced once more the darkening water, the boat lying like a shadow upon the beach, the vague figures of the men about it. The ferry-boat had pushed off and was lumbering124 over the water with great oars125 going like bats’ wings, and a noisy human load. The other little vessel126 with that girl had almost disappeared. He thought he could see in the darkness a white speck127 like a bird, which was the white shawl that wrapped her throat and shoulders. Her home lay somewhere in the centre of these dark waters, a curious nest for such a creature. And his? He turned again towards the dark, half-seen towers and gables. Some of them were so irregular in outline that they could be nothing but ruins. He began to think of the past, mute, out of date, harmless to affect the life that had replaced it, which had taken refuge there. And he remembered his own argument about the courtesy that the living owed to the dead. Well! if it was so, if it was as a politeness, a courtesy to the past, it might be unworthy a gentleman to refuse it. And perhaps when all was said it was just a little cowardly to turn one’s back upon a possible danger, upon what at least the vulgar thought a danger. This decided him. He turned once more, and with a few rapid steps reached the boat. Next moment they were afloat upon the dark loch. There had been no wind to speak of on shore, but the boat was soon struggling against a strong running current, and a breeze which was like ice. The boatmen showed dark against the gleaming loch, the rude little vessel rolled, the wind blew. In front of them rose the dark towers and woods all black without a sign of human habitation. Walter felt his heart rise at last with the sense of adventure. It was the strangest way of entering upon a fine inheritance.
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fin
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| n.鳍；(飞机的)安定翼 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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overflowed
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sobbing
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WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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ken
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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predecessor
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mere
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encompassed
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bleak
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lavish
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admiration
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grumble
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conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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hue
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26
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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27
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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28
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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29
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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30
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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31
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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32
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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33
odyssey
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| n.长途冒险旅行；一连串的冒险 | |
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34
ascents
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| n.上升( ascent的名词复数 )；（身份、地位等的）提高；上坡路；攀登 | |
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35
jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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36
lumbered
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| 砍伐（lumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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37
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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38
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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39
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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40
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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41
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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42
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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43
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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44
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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45
softens
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| （使）变软( soften的第三人称单数 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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46
converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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47
knoll
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| n.小山，小丘 | |
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48
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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49
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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50
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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51
irreproachable
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| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
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52
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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53
adoption
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| n.采用，采纳，通过；收养 | |
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54
isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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55
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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56
veracity
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| n.诚实 | |
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57
dour
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| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
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58
auld
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| adj.老的，旧的 | |
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59
conspiracies
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| n.阴谋，密谋( conspiracy的名词复数 ) | |
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60
interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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61
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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62
credulous
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| adj.轻信的，易信的 | |
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63
glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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64
initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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65
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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66
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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67
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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68
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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69
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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70
highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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71
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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72
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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73
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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74
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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75
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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76
ponderous
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| adj.沉重的，笨重的，(文章)冗长的 | |
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77
balk
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| n.大方木料；v.妨碍；不愿前进或从事某事 | |
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78
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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79
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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80
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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81
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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82
hoofs
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| 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 ) | |
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83
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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84
embarking
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| 乘船( embark的现在分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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85
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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86
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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87
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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88
biding
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| v.等待，停留( bide的现在分词 )；居住；（过去式用bided）等待；面临 | |
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89
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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90
scour
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| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
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91
intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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92
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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93
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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94
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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95
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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96
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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97
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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98
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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99
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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100
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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101
repelled
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| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
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102
overpass
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| n.天桥，立交桥 | |
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103
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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104
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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105
tranquil
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| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
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106
fables
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| n.寓言( fable的名词复数 )；神话，传说 | |
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107
imposture
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| n.冒名顶替，欺骗 | |
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108
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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109
mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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110
secluded
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| adj.与世隔绝的；隐退的；偏僻的v.使隔开，使隐退( seclude的过去式和过去分词) | |
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111
jugglery
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| n.杂耍，把戏 | |
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112
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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113
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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114
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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115
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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116
peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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117
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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118
antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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119
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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120
incur
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| vt.招致，蒙受，遭遇 | |
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121
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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122
stipulation
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| n.契约，规定，条文；条款说明 | |
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123
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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124
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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125
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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126
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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127
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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