As my hair has whitened with the sifting12 frosts of years, I confess that my sophistries13 of smuggling seem less and less plausible14, while smuggling itself loses whatever of romantic glamour15 it may once have been invested with, or what little color of respect to which it might seem able to lay claim. This tale shall be told in simplest periods. That is as should be; for expression should ever be meek16 and subjugated17 when one’s story is the mere18 story of a cheat. There is scant19 room in such recital20 for heroic phrase. Smuggling, and paint it with what genius one may, can be nothing save a skulking21, hiding, fear-eaten trade. There is nothing about it of bravery or dash. How therefore and avoid laughter, may one wax stately in any telling of its ignoble23 details?
When, following my unfortunate crash in tobacco, I had cleared away the last fragment of the confusion that reigned24 in my affairs, I was driven to give my nerves a respite25 and seek a rest. For three months I had been under severest stress. When the funeral was done—for funeral it seemed to me—and my tobacco enterprise and those hopes it had so flattered were forever laid at rest, my soul sank exhausted26 and my brain was in a whirl. I could neither think with clearness nor plan with accuracy. Moreover, I was prey27 to that depression and lack of confidence in myself, which come inevitably28 as the corollary of utter weariness.
Aware of this personal condition, I put aside thought of any present formulation of a future. I would rest, recover poise29, and win back that optimism that belongs with health and youth.
This was wisdom; I was jaded30 beyond belief; and fatigue31 means dejection, and dejection spells pessimism32, and pessimism is never sagacious nor excellent in any of its programmes.
For that rawness of the nerves I speak of, many apply themselves to drink; some rush to drugs; for myself, I take to music. It was midwinter, and grand opera was here. This was fortunate. I buried myself in a box, and opened my very pores to those nerve-healthful harmonies.
In a week thereafter I might call myself recovered. My soul was cool, my eye bright, my mind clear and sensibly elate. Life and its promises seemed mightily33 refreshed.
No one has ever called me superstitious34 and yet to begin my course-charting for a new career, I harked back to the old Astor House. It was there that brilliant thought of tobacco overtook me two years before. Perhaps an inspiration was to dwell in an environment. Again I registered, and finding it tenantless35, took over again my old room. Still I cannot say, and it is to that hostelry’s credit, that my domicile at the Astor aided me to my smuggling resolves. Those last had growth somewhat in this fashion:
I had dawdled36 for two hours over coffee in the café—the room and the employment which had one-time brought me fortune—but was incapable37 of any thought of value. I could decide on nothing good. Indeed, I did naught38 save mentally curse those revenue miscreants39 who, failing of blackmail40, had destroyed me for revenge.
Whatever comfort may lurk41 in curses, at least they carry no money profit; so after a fruitless session over coffee and maledictions, I arose, and as a calmative, walked down Broadway.
At Trinity churchyard, the gates being open, I turned in and began ramblingly to twine42 and twist among the graves. There I encountered a garrulous43 old man who, for his own pleasure, evidently, devoted44 himself to my information. He pointed45 out the grave of Fulton, he of the steamboats; then I was shown the tomb of that Lawrence who would “never give up the ship;” from there I was carried to the last low bed of the love-wrecked Charlotte Temple.
My eye at last, by the alluring46 voice and finger of the old guide, was drawn47 to a spot under the tower where sleeps the Lady Cornbury, dead now as I tell this, hardby two hundred years. Also I was told of that Lord Cornbury, her husband, once governor of the colony for his relative, Queen Anne; and how he became so much more efficient as a smuggler and a customs cheat, than ever he was as an executive, that he lost his high employ.
Because I had nothing more worthy48 to occupy my leisure, I listened—somewhat listlessly, I promise you, for after all I was thinking on the future, not the past, and considering of the living rather than those old dead folk, obscure, forgotten in their slim graves—I listened, I say, to my gray historian; and somehow, after I was free of him, the one thing that remained alive in my memory was the smuggling story of our Viscount Cornbury.
Among those few acquaintances I formed during my brief prosperity, was one with a gentleman named Harris, who owned apartments under mine on Twenty-second Street. Harris was elegant, educated, traveled, and apparently49 well-to-do of riches. Busy with my own mounting fortunes, the questions of who Harris was? and what he did? and how he lived? never rapped at the door of my curiosity for reply.
One night, however, as we sat over a late and by no means a first bottle of wine, Harris himself informed me that he was employed in smuggling; had a partner-accomplice in the Customs House, and perfect arrangements aboard a certain ship. By these last double advantages, he came aboard with twenty trunks, if he so pleased, without risking anything from the inquisitiveness50 or loquacity51 of the officers of the ship; and later debarked at New York with the certainty of going scatheless52 through the customs as rapidly as his Inspector53 partner could chalk scrawlingly “O. K.” upon his sundry54 pieces of baggage.
Coming from Old Trinity, still mooting55 Corn-bury and his smugglings, my thoughts turned to Harris. Also, for the earliest time, I began to consider within myself whether smuggling was not a field of business wherein a pushing man might grow and reap a harvest. The idea came to me to turn “free-trader.” The government had destroyed me; I would make reprisal56. I would give my hand to smuggling and spoil the Egyptian.
At once I sought Harris and over a glass of champagne—ever a favorite wine with me—we struck agreement. As a finale we each put in fifteen thousand dollars, and with the whole sum of thirty thousand dollars Harris pushed forth57 for Europe while I remained behind. Harris visited Lyons; and our complete investment was in a choicest sort of Lyons silk. The rich fabrics58 were packed in a dozen trunks—not all alike, those trunks, but differing, one from another, so as to prevent the notion as they stood about the wharf59 that there was aught of relationship between them or that one man stood owner of them all.
It is not needed to tell of my partner’s voyage of return. It was without event and one may safely abandon it, leaving its relation to Harris himself, if he be yet alive and should the spirit him so move. It is enough for the present purpose that in due time the trunks holding our precious silk-bolts, with Harris as their convoy60, arrived safe in New York.
I had been looking for the boat’s coming and was waiting on the wharf as her lines and her stagings were run ashore61.
Our partner, the Inspector, and who was to enjoy a per cent, of the profits of the speculation62, was named Lorns. He rapidly chalked “O. K.” with his name affixed63 to the end of each several trunk and it thereupon with the balance of inspected baggage was promptly64 piled upon the wharf.
There had been a demand for drays, I remember, and on this day when our silks came in, I was able to procure65 but one. The ship did not dock until late in the afternoon, and at eight o’clock of a dark, foggy April evening, there still remained one of our trunks—the largest of all, it was—on the wharf. The dray had departed with the second load for that concealing66 loft67 in Reade Street which, during Harris’ absence, I had taken to be used as the depot68 of those smuggling operations wherein we might become engaged. I had made every move with caution; I had never employed our real names not even with the drayman.
As I tell you, the dray was engaged about the second trip. This last large silk-trunk was left behind perforce; pile it how one might there had been no safe room for it on the already overloaded69 dray. The drayman promised to return and have it safely in our loft that night.
For myself, I was from first to last lounging about the wharf, overseeing the going away of our goods. Harris, so soon as I gave him key and street-number, had posted to Reade Street to attend the silk’s reception.
Waiting for the coming back of the conveying dray proved but a slow, dull business, and I was impatiently, at the hour I’ve named, walking up and down, casting an occasional glance at the big last trunk where it stood on end, a bit drawn out and separated from the common mountain of baggage wherewith the wharf was piled.
One of the general inspectors70, a man I had never seen but whom I knew, by virtue71 of his rank, to be superior to our chalk-wielding coparcener, also paced the wharf and appeared to bear me company in a distant, non-communicative way. This customs captain and myself, save for an under inspector named Quin, had the dock to ourselves. The boat was long in and most land folk had gotten through their concern with her and wended homeward long before. There were, however, many passengers of emigrant72 sort still held aboard the ship.
As I marched up and down, Lorns came ashore and pretended some business with his superior officer. As he returned to the ship and what duties he had still to perform there, he made a slight signal to both myself and his fellow inspector, Quin, to follow him. I was well known to Lorns, having had several talks with him, while Harris was abroad. Quin I had never met; but it quickly appeared that he was a confidant of Lorns, and while without money interest in our affairs was ready to bear helping73 hand should the situation commence to pinch.
Quin and I went severally and withal carelessly aboard ship, and not at all as though we were seeking Lorns. This was to darken the chief, whom we both surmised74 to be the cause of Lorn’s signal.
Once aboard and gathered in a dark corner, Lorns began at once:
“Let me do the talking,” said Lorns with a nervous rapidity that at once enlisted75 the ears of Quin and myself. “Don’t interrupt, but listen. The chief suspects that last trunk. I can tell it by the way he acts. A bit later, when I come ashore, he’ll ask to have it opened. Should he do so, we’re lost; you and I.” This last was to me. Then to Quin: “Do you see that long, bony Swiss, with the boots and porcelain76 pipe? He’s in an ugly mood, doesn’t speak English, and within one minute after you return to the wharf, he and I will be entangled77 in a rough and tumble riot. I’ll attend to that. The row will be prodigious78. The chief will be sent for to settle the war, and when he leaves the wharf, Quin, don’t wait; seize on that silk trunk and throw it into the river. There’s iron enough clamped about the corners to sink it; besides, it’s packed so tightly it’s as heavy as lead, and will go to the bottom like an anvil79. Then from the pile pull down some trunk similar to it in looks and stand it in its place. It’ll go in the dark. Give the new trunk my mark, as the chief has already read the name on the trunk. Go, Quin; I rely on you.”
“You can trust me, my boy,” retorted Quin, cheerfully, and turning on his heel, he was back on the wharf in a moment, and apparently busy about the pile of baggage.
Suddenly there came a mighty80 uproar81 aboard ship. Lorns and the Swiss, the latter already irate82 over some trouble he had experienced, were rolling about the deck in a most violent scrimmage, the Swiss having decidedly the worst of the trouble. The chief rushed up the plank84; Lorns and the descendant of Tell and Winkelried, were torn apart; and then a double din22 of explanation ensued. After ten minutes, the chief was able to straighten out the difficulty—whatever its pretended cause might be I know not; for I held myself warily85 aloof86, not a little alarmed by what Lorns had communicated—and repaired again to his station upon the wharf.
As the chief came down the plank, Quin, who had not been a moment behind him in going aboard to discover the reasons of the riot, followed. Brief as was that moment, however, during which Quin had lingered behind, he had made the shift suggested by Lorns; the silk trunk was under the river, a strange trunk stood in its stead.
As the chief returned, he walked straight to this suspected trunk and tipped it down with his foot. Then to Quin:
“Ask Lorns to step here.”
Quin went questing Lorns; shortly Lorns and Quin came back together. The chief turned in a brisk, sharp, official way to Lorns:
“Did you inspect this trunk?”
“I did,” said Lorns, looking at the chalk marks as if to make sure.
“Open it!”
No keys were procurable87; the owners, Lorns said, had long since left the docks. But Lorns suggested that he get hammer and cold-chisel from the ship.
The trunk was opened and found free and innocent of aught contraband88. The chief wore a puzzled, dark look; he felt that he’d been cheated, but he couldn’t say how. Therefore, being wise, the chief gulped89, said nothing, and as life is short and he had many things to do, soon after left the docks and went his way.
“That was a squeak90!” said Lorns when we were at last free of the dangerous chief. “Quin, I thank you.”
“That’s all right,” retorted Quin, with a grin; “do as much for me some time.”
That night, with the aid of a river pirate, our trunk, jettisoned91 by the excellent Quin, was fished up; and being tight as a drum, its contents had come to little harm with the baptism. At last, our dozen silk trunks—holding a treasure of thirty thousand dollars and whereon we looked to clear a heavy profit—were safe in the Reade Street loft; and my hasty heart, which had been beating at double speed since that almost fatal interference, slowed to normal.
One might now suppose our woes92 were at an end, all danger over, and nothing to do but dispose of that shimmering93 cargo94 to best advantage. Harris and I were of that spirit-lifting view; we began on the very next day to feel about for customers.
Harris, whose former smuggling exploits had dealt solely95 with gems96, knew as little of silk as did I. Had either been expert he might have foreseen a coming peril97 into whose arms we in our blindness all but walked. No, our troubles were not yet done. We had escaped the engulfing98 suck of Charybdis, only to be darted99 upon by those six grim mouths of her sister monster, Scylla, over the way.
Well do I recall that morning. I had seen but two possible purchasers of silks when Harris overtook me. His eye shone with alarm. Lorns had run him down with the news—however he himself discovered it, I never knew—that another danger yawned.
Harris hurried me to our Reade Street lair100 and gave particulars.
“It seems,” said Harris, quite out of breath with the speed we’d made in hunting cover, “that Stewart is for America the sole agent of these particular brands of silk which we’ve brought in. Some one to whom we’ve offered them has notified the Stewart company. At this moment and as we sit here, the detectives belonging to Stewart, and for all I may guess, the whole Central Office as well, are on our track. They want to discover who has these silks; and how they came in, since the customs records show no such importations. And there’s a dark characteristic to these silks. Each bolt has its peculiar101, individual selvage. Each, with a sample of its selvage, is registered at the home looms102. Could anyone get a snip103 of a selvage he could return with it to Lyons, learn from the manufacturers’ book just when it was woven, when sold, and to whom. I can tell you one thing,” observed Harris, as he concluded his story, “we’re in a bad corner.”
How the cold drops spangled my brows! I began to wish with much heart that I’d never met Harris, nor heard, that Trinity churchyard day, of Cornbury and his smuggling methods of gathering104 gold.
There was one ray of hope; neither Harris nor I had disclosed our names, nor the whereabouts or quantity of the silks; and as each had been dealing105 with folk with whom he’d never before met, we were both as yet mysteries unsolved.
Nor were we ever solved. Harris and I kept off the streets during daylight hours for a full month. We were not utterly106 idle; we unpleasantly employed ourselves in trimming away that telltale selvage.
Preferring safety to profit, we put forth no efforts to realize on our speculations107 for almost a year. By that time the one day’s wonder of “Who’s got Stewart’s silks?” had ceased to disturb the mercantile world and the grand procession of dry goods interest passed on and over it.
At last we crept forth like felons—as, good sooth! we were—and disposed of our mutilated silks to certain good folk whose forefathers108 once ruled Palestine. These gentry109 liked bargains, and were in no wise curious; they bought our wares110 without lifting an eyebrow111 of inquiry112, and from them constructed—though with that I had no concern—those long “circulars,” so called, which were the feminine joy a third of a century gone.
As to Harris and myself; what with delays, what with expenses, what with figures reduced to dispose of our plunder113, we got evenly out. We got back our money; but for those fear-shaken hours of two separate perils114, we were never paid.
I smuggled115 no more. Still, I did not relinquish116 my pious117 purpose to despoil118 that public treasury119 Egyptian quoted heretofore. Neither did I give up the Customs as a rich field of illicit120 endeavor. But my methods changed. I now decided83 that I, myself, would become an Inspector, like unto the useful Lorns, and make my fortune from the opulent inside. I procured121 the coveted122 appointment, for I could bring power to bear, and later I’ll tell you of The Emperor’s Cigars.
When I was in my room that night, making ready for bed, I could still hear the soft, cold fingers of the snow upon the pane123. What a storm was that! Our landlord who had been boy and man and was now gray in that old inn, declared how he had never witnessed the smothering124 fellow to it.
The following day, while still and bright and no snow to fall, showed a temperature below zero. The white blockade still held us fast, and now the desperate cold was come to be the ally of the snow. Departure was never a question.
As we kicked the logs into a cheerful uproar of sparks, and drew that evening about the great fireplace, it was the Old Cattleman to break conversational125 ground.
“Do you-all know,” said he, “I shore feels that idle this evenin’ it’s worse’n scand’lous—it’s reedic’lous.” Here he threw himself back in his armchair and yawned. “Pardon these yere demonstrations126 of weariness, gents,” he observed; “they ain’t aimed at you none. That’s the fact, though; this amazin’ sensation of bein’ held a prisoner is beginnin’ to gnaw127 at me a heap. Talk of ‘a painted ship upon a painted ocean,’ like that poem sharp wrote of! Why that vessel’s sedyoolously employed compared to us!”
“You should recall,” remarked the Jolly Doctor, “how somewhere it is said that whatever your hand finds to do, you should do it with all your heart. Now, I would say the counsel applies to our present position. Since we must needs be idle, let us be idle heartily128 and happily, and get every good to lie hidden in what to me, at least, is a most pleasant companionship.”
“I shore unites with you,” responded the Old Cattleman, “in them script’ral exhortations129 to do things with all your heart. It was Wild Bill Hickox’s way, too; an’ a Christian130 adherence131 to that commandment, not only saves Bill’s life, but endows him with the record for single-handed killin’s so far as we-all has accounts.”
“Is it a story?” asked the Red Nosed Gentleman. “Once in a while I relish132 a good blood and thunder tale.”
“It’s this a-way,” said the Old Cattleman. “Bill’s hand is forced by the Jake McCandlas gang. Bill has ’em to do; an’ rememberin’, doubtless, the Bible lessons of his old mother back in Illinois, he shore does ’em with all his heart, as the good book says. This yere is the story of ‘The Wiping Out of McCandlas.’”
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1
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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smuggling
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| n.走私 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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exonerate
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| v.免除责任，确定无罪 | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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smuggler
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| n.走私者 | |
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deplete
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| v.弄空，排除，减轻，减少...体液，放去...的血 | |
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fatten
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| v.使肥，变肥 | |
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sifting
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| n.筛，过滤v.筛( sift的现在分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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sophistries
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| n.诡辩术( sophistry的名词复数 )；（一次）诡辩 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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subjugated
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| v.征服，降伏( subjugate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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skulking
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| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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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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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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poise
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| vt./vi. 平衡，保持平衡；n.泰然自若，自信 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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pessimism
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| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
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mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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tenantless
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| adj.无人租赁的，无人居住的 | |
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dawdled
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| v.混（时间）( dawdle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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miscreants
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| n.恶棍，歹徒( miscreant的名词复数 ) | |
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blackmail
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| n.讹诈，敲诈，勒索，胁迫，恫吓 | |
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lurk
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| n.潜伏，潜行；v.潜藏，潜伏，埋伏 | |
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twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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49
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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50
inquisitiveness
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| 好奇，求知欲 | |
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loquacity
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| n.多话，饶舌 | |
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52
scatheless
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| adj.无损伤的，平安的 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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54
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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55
mooting
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| v.提出…供讨论( moot的现在分词 ) | |
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56
reprisal
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| n.报复，报仇，报复性劫掠 | |
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57
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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58
fabrics
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| 织物( fabric的名词复数 )； 布； 构造； （建筑物的）结构（如墙、地面、屋顶）：质地 | |
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59
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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60
convoy
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| vt.护送，护卫，护航；n.护送；护送队 | |
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61
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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62
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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63
affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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64
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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65
procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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66
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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67
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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68
depot
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| n.仓库，储藏处；公共汽车站；火车站 | |
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69
overloaded
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| a.超载的，超负荷的 | |
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70
inspectors
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| n.检查员( inspector的名词复数 )；（英国公共汽车或火车上的）查票员；（警察）巡官；检阅官 | |
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71
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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72
emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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73
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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74
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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75
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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76
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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77
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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78
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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79
anvil
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| n.铁钻 | |
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80
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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81
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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82
irate
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| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
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83
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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84
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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85
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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86
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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87
procurable
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| adj.可得到的，得手的 | |
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88
contraband
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| n.违禁品，走私品 | |
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89
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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90
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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91
jettisoned
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| v.抛弃，丢弃( jettison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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93
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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94
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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95
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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96
gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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97
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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98
engulfing
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| adj.吞噬的v.吞没，包住( engulf的现在分词 ) | |
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99
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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100
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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101
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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102
looms
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| n.织布机( loom的名词复数 )v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的第三人称单数 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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103
snip
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| n.便宜货，廉价货，剪，剪断 | |
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104
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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105
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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106
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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107
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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108
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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109
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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110
wares
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| n. 货物, 商品 | |
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111
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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112
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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113
plunder
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| vt.劫掠财物，掠夺；n.劫掠物，赃物；劫掠 | |
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114
perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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115
smuggled
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| 水货 | |
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116
relinquish
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| v.放弃，撤回，让与，放手 | |
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117
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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118
despoil
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| v.夺取，抢夺 | |
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119
treasury
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| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
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120
illicit
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| adj.非法的，禁止的，不正当的 | |
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121
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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122
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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123
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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124
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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125
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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126
demonstrations
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| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
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127
gnaw
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| v.不断地啃、咬；使苦恼，折磨 | |
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128
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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129
exhortations
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| n.敦促( exhortation的名词复数 )；极力推荐；（正式的）演讲；（宗教仪式中的）劝诫 | |
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130
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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131
adherence
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| n.信奉，依附，坚持，固着 | |
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132
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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