The flag of St. George hung loosely on the summit of the lofty tower of Notre Dame4. The rain had sodden5 it, and there was little wind to throw out its heavy folds.
There was much cause why Geoffrey, William and Ralph should rejoice and be glad. Their mission was drawing to an end, and all things had gone happily. They had passed through many dangers, and a Divine Providence6 had surely watched over them. Soon they would be in London, and a rapturous welcome awaited them at Gray's Inn!
Yet these were three patriotic7 young Englishmen, and an indefinable oppression weighed down their spirits as they caught their last view of the flag of St. George floating over Calais. A prophetic intimation of evil oppressed their hearts.
They had lately been brought into close contact with the gallant8 soldiers of France; they had fought against Montmorency and Coligni; they could appreciate the desperate valour of a Guise9!
How would the worn-out and meagre garrison10 of Calais, defending its crumbling11 walls, withstand the onslaught of such men?
"Oh, brother," said Geoffrey, as he laid his hand on William's shoulder, "I fear for Calais!"
"And I also," said William.
"And I," said Ralph, and the hearts of the young men were heavy within them.
But presently the sun broke through a bank of clouds, and lo! there, right in front of them, were the white cliffs of dear old England.
"Heaviness may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."
"God save England!" cried Geoffrey, and they flung up their caps with joy.
Soon they were in Dover, and as the evening came on they were galloping12 on three stout13 horses into Canterbury. They made no stay in the grand old cathedral city, but rode quickly through it.
At Rochester, where the grim old castle built by William de Corbeuil frowned upon them, they halted to refresh themselves and their horses.
On through the night for London!
They were crossing Blackheath at a gentle canter when a slight interruption to their progress occurred. It was a moonless night, but the stars were shining brightly. A small band of horsemen barred their road, and a rough voice called out "Halt!"
"Certainly," cried Geoffrey merrily, as he reined14 up his horse, and his sword rattled15 as he drew it from its steel scabbard, a proceeding16 instantly imitated by his companions. "What is your pleasure, gentlemen?" he cried. "A merry passage of arms on the Queen's highway? By all means; you do us much honour!"
But the night rufflers had seen and heard enough, and in a moment they were disappearing in the darkness. Perhaps they had thought to encounter three harmless travellers; they had no mind to display their valour against three soldiers of the English contingent17!
With a loud laugh the travellers galloped18 on.
Soon they were threading their way carefully through the narrow streets of the suburbs of London, and they headed straight for Gray's Inn. They would have gone direct to Lambeth, where the Archbishop was in residence, but the hour was unseemly—the night was not yet past.
So they rode to Gray's Inn, where they aroused the watchmen at the stables, and, like good soldiers, saw to the needs of their horses ere they cared for themselves. The day was dawning as they presented themselves at the great door of the Treasurer's lodgings20 and woke up the sleepy night porter, who was slumbering21 in his cell.
Glad was old Robin22 to see his young masters, of whom nothing had been heard at Gray's Inn for many a day. They were neither hungry nor thirsty, for they had supped well at Rochester; yet the porter was able to find some wine and bread for the weary travellers.
But their chief need was rest, and they at once sought their way to their well-known rooms, which had not been occupied since they left them.
They would sleep, they told Robin, for the next three hours, and at breakfast time they would present themselves to Sir John and Mistress Susan, who might be informed of their arrival when they descended23 to the breakfast room.
"Oh, thank God, to be at home once more!" cried Ralph.
"Yes, let us thank Him together," said Geoffrey gravely, and the three young soldiers knelt in silence. Then they sought the much needed rest, and were soon in deep sleep.
It was eight o'clock when the sound of the gong aroused the sleepers24, and, after a hasty preparation, they descended to the breakfast room.
Ah! what a meeting was that.
There stood Sir John, lost in wonder and delight; there was Susan, clad in some bewitching morning costume, her long fair hair loosely tied with some bright ribbons and falling in masses over her shoulders.
"My boys, my boys," cried Sir John, as he embraced them, kissing them on both cheeks, "welcome home!"
Then came Susan's turn, and joy shone in her fair eyes as she kissed them all, Geoffrey not being excepted.
It was long ere they could sit down to breakfast, so much had they to tell and to ask. Eating and drinking were much too prosaic25 occupations for such a time as that!
But there was an air of gravity on Sir John's face as he presently asked the boys what brought them home so suddenly; when last he heard of them they were on service at St. Quentin.
Then Geoffrey told briefly26 the history of their special mission, reserving all details for some future occasion.
"And now we must hie to Lambeth," said he, "for our business with the Cardinal27 is urgent."
"You cannot see him until after the hour of ten," replied Sir John, "when the service in Lambeth Chapel28 ends. Until that service is over his Eminence29 receives no man. I will send a messenger to him, informing him of your arrival and your business, asking for an early audience."
Sir John adjourned30 to the library, and the letter was written and despatched immediately.
Then the whole party met again in that noble room, and Sir John proceeded to tell the envoys of the present position of affairs in England.
"The Queen," said he, "is rapidly failing in health, and the Romanist party is in grave alarm, especially at Court, where the greatest gloom prevails. All eyes turn to the Princess Elizabeth, who is the hope of the Reformation party, which is both numerous and strong; already the courtiers are flocking to Hatfield, where Elizabeth resides.
"Cardinal Pole, also, is becoming each day feebler in body, and his illness is aggravated31 by the treatment he has received at the hands of Pope Paul the Fourth—who has summoned him to Rome to answer to various charges brought against him, amongst others the charge of heresy32. The Pope has revoked33 his Legation, and has appointed Cardinal Peto as his Legate to England.
"The Queen sternly resists these papal measures; she refuses to allow Pole to leave the kingdom, and she will not allow Peto to enter it. All the ports are watched, and no messengers from Rome are admitted to England. Alas34! poor Queen," cried Sir John, "deserted35 by her husband, and harassed36 by the Pope for whom she has done so much, who would not pity her?
"The fires of Smithfield, and at a hundred other places, have quenched37 whatsoever38 love her subjects once had for her. They distrust Philip and hate the Spaniards with so mortal a hatred39, that no man of that race dare appear openly in the streets of London, and they are fleeing from England in shoals; our friend Don Diego left last week.
"For Cardinal Pole much popular sympathy exists. His noble birth and blameless life plead for him, and the mercy he has shown to many a poor prisoner is alleged40 by the people to be the cause of his present disgrace at Rome."
So the discourse41 went on till Sir John's messenger to Lambeth returned; the Cardinal would receive the envoys at once, and forthwith the young men rose to obey the summons.
The clocks were striking ten as the envoys entered the palace of Lambeth; they were conducted immediately to the Cardinal's presence.
He was busily writing as they entered the audience chamber43. It was plainly furnished; there were no luxuries, no ostentation44 here.
He rose to greet them, and, as he did so, his wan45 face lit up with a kindly46 smile. They knelt on one knee and kissed the hand he extended to them.
"Welcome, my sons," he said; "you come from St. Quentin and Calais, Sir John Jefferay tells me, as envoys from the King."
Geoffrey bowed low as he handed their credentials47 to the Cardinal, among them a letter from Philip to his Eminence. This letter Cardinal Pole proceeded to read at once.
"I perceive," he said at length, "that his Majesty48 is greatly concerned respecting the condition of Calais, and that he sent ye thither49 that you might report to the Government the true state of things in that town."
Geoffrey then presented to the Cardinal a letter from the Lord Wentworth, in which the urgent needs of Calais were set forth42 for the Government's information. Pole read this carefully.
"My sons," he said, "you have been eye-witnesses of the things of which this letter treats; now tell me what you have seen; I know that you are good men and true, and that you will neither conceal50 nor exaggerate the needs and condition of the town of Calais."
Then Geoffrey proceeded in grave and carefully considered words to give their report.
He spoke51 of the weakness in numbers of the garrison, and of their inefficiency52 through age and decrepitude53. He set forth the lack of the munitions54 of war, the antiquity55 of the artillery56 and the means of defence generally. He described the ruinous condition of the fortifications, and especially the state of the moats. And to all this William and Ralph testified their assent57.
Then the Cardinal questioned them on many points, and the envoys duly replied.
"These things must be remedied, and I will see Lord Arundel about them to-day," said the Cardinal. "I hear that the English contingent return home shortly; it may be possible to induce some of them to re-enlist for the defence of Calais under Lord Gray, who knows the town well. At any rate, I thank you heartily58 for your report, and the matter shall be taken in hand at once.
"Now tell me, when last did you see King Philip?"
"Four days since, at St. Quentin," replied Geoffrey.
"You must have travelled very quickly," said the Cardinal.
"We did not spare our horses, your Eminence," replied Geoffrey, with a smile.
"You are brave young soldiers," said Pole warmly, "and you deserve well of your Queen and country.
"I will inform her Majesty of your return to London, and as I know that she greatly desires to hear news from St. Quentin, I doubt not but that she will send for you. Hold yourselves at liberty to come to Court to-night. If the Queen be sufficiently59 well to receive you I will send you a message to that effect.
"And now I bid you 'good-day.' I would fain detain you longer, but business of State awaits me, and my time is not my own. Meanwhile you can prepare for me a written report of the state and condition of Calais."
And so the good Cardinal dismissed them, and they hastened back to Gray's Inn.
The evening was closing in, supper was over, and a happy family party was gathered together in the library.
To-morrow many friends would join them, to welcome the return of the travellers; there would be Don Renard, Sir Philip Broke, the Lord Mayor, and other distinguished60 guests; but to-night theirs was a joy with which "the stranger intermeddleth not": it was a purely61 family gathering62. Much they talked of the battle and siege of St. Quentin, much had they to tell of Egmont, Horn, Montmorency, and Coligni; but it was the ride through the forest and the encounter with the "gueux" which held Susan spellbound. Her eyes were fastened on the young warriors63 with irrepressible admiration64, and glistened65 with love as she listened.
Then the interview of the morning was told, and the Cardinal's intimation that they might be wanted at Whitehall that night was not forgotten.
At this last piece of news Sir John seemed troubled.
"I foresee," he said, "that the Queen or the Cardinal will offer you some military promotion66 and duty which would do you much honour, and perhaps delight your hearts. But danger lies that way.
"The Queen's days are numbered—no man doubts it, and soon the Princess Elizabeth will be called to the throne. And to stand well with Mary, to be actively67 engaged in her service would be fatal to the statesman, soldier or lawyer when the new era dawns upon the world."
Sir John spoke in a low voice, and with extreme gravity.
"Remember also, my boys, that we Jefferays belong to the party of the Reformation; that at this very moment your father is an exile by reason of his religious opinions. Therefore I counsel you to resume your old occupation here, and, for the moment, to lay aside the sword. The time will soon come when you may re-consider the matter; I counsel you to await that hour with patience."
The young men looked grave also, for it was in their hearts that if the Cardinal asked it, they would offer him their swords in defence of Calais while there were yet time to save it.
It was at this moment that the old major-domo asked admission to the room; he brought them the news that a Queen's messenger stood at the door seeking an interview with his young masters.
The summons to Whitehall had arrived, as the envoys told Sir John when they had interviewed the messenger.
"Go, my boys, go, but remember my advice," said Sir John, as the family gathering came to an end.
The journey to Whitehall was soon accomplished68. The Royal Palace was shrouded69 in gloom; it was but dimly lit up, for it was not a "guest night."
Alas! guest nights were rare events now that the Queen lay ill; in fact, she had withdrawn70 herself from almost all public functions.
The Palace was strongly guarded, and ere the young soldiers could gain admittance the officer on duty demanded the password.
It had been communicated to them by the messenger, and, strange to say, the word for the night was "St. Quentin."
Their business being ascertained72, they were immediately conducted to the private room occupied by the Cardinal when he was at Whitehall, and soon they were ushered73 into his presence.
He was busily engaged in writing despatches at a side-table lit by wax candles, nor did he lay aside his work till the documents were signed and sealed; then he turned round and faced his visitors.
He was clad in a plain purple cassock, the only sign of his exalted74 rank. His handsome face was wan and pale. Alas! his health was fast failing, as all men knew.
"Welcome, my sons," he said; "the Queen is anxiously awaiting your arrival, though the hour grows late; we will go to her at once," and rising he led the way to the royal apartments.
Various corridors and chambers75 were traversed; they were quite empty save for the halberdiers who kept guard in the palace.
"Stay here a moment," said the Cardinal in a low voice, as they reached a richly furnished ante-chamber, at the end of which rich curtains hung.
Through these the Cardinal passed; a minute later he rejoined the envoys, saying—
"Her Majesty will see you, weary as she is in mind and body; follow me."
They entered Queen Mary's boudoir, the two ladies-in-waiting leaving the room on the Cardinal's signal.
Mary was reclining on a soft couch; she rose to a sitting posture76 as she saw the young men, and graciously extended her hand, which they kissed as they fell on one knee.
She was very pale, and there were marks of acute suffering in her drawn71 and wasted face.
"His Eminence tells me that you are just arrived in London from St. Quentin; when did you leave that town?"
"Four days since, may it please your Majesty," answered Geoffrey, now standing77 erect78.
"Only four days," murmured the Queen; "how small doth seem the space which separates me from my lord the King!"
She sighed deeply; then, recovering herself, she asked—
"How fares his Majesty? did he take part in the siege?"
"The King is in excellent health," replied Geoffrey, "and he took an active part in the siege of St. Quentin."
"You saw him there?" inquired Mary.
"Many times, your Majesty; he was the cynosure79 of all eyes as he rode through the flaming streets clad in splendid armour80."
"Yes, I know," replied Mary, a wan smile flickering81 awhile on her careworn82 face; "he would surely be found where duty and danger called him.
"Oh, I can call him to mind as he sat on his war-horse, wearing that wondrous83 suit of Milanese armour which becomes him so well. I mind me that it was in that suit that Titian painted him; I have a copy of it."
For a moment the Queen mused84, then she spoke again.
"Under what circumstances saw you the King in St. Quentin? Methinks he would thrust himself somewhat recklessly into danger. Did he charge at the head of his troops?—tell me all."
"He was ever found where the fight was hottest," replied Geoffrey, "and he was greatly concerned for the fate of the women and children; he had them conducted in safety out of the city."
"Oh! gallant Philip," murmured the Queen, as if she spoke to herself, and was unconscious that others were present. "Go on, I pray you!" she said aloud.
"He was greatly concerned for the safety of the cathedral, and he ordered the English contingent to see that it suffered no injury," continued Geoffrey. "While the siege was hotly proceeding he ordered the monks85 of the cathedral to convey the relics86 of St. Quentin, which lay enshrined there, to his own tent outside the town."
The Queen was greatly moved, and she beckoned87 the Cardinal to her side.
"You hear, father?" she whispered to him. "Sometimes I have thought that you misjudged the King, that you did not fully19 estimate his fervent88 piety89, nor know how easily his noble heart was ever open to the cry for mercy, how full it was of tenderness and pity!"
Poor Mary, poor infatuated Queen!
Suddenly she put her hand to her side as a spasm90 of pain seized her.
"Tell Lady Howard to come hither," she said to Pole, "and to bring with her my strongest essences."
This being done, the Queen seemed to recover, and she would have made further inquiries91 of the envoys, but the Cardinal intervened.
"Will your Majesty pardon me?" he said; "the hour grows late, and these gallant young soldiers can wait on you to-morrow; I fear that your Majesty is exerting yourself too much."
Scarcely with these words had the Cardinal persuaded Mary, but he had further arguments at command.
"It is the hour for Vespers, your Majesty, and Father Petre awaits us in the oratory92."
"Yes, you are right," replied the Queen, with sudden willingness; "let us offer to Heaven our thanks for this blessed news from St. Quentin, ere my strength fail me."
The interview ended as it began; Mary extended her poor wasted hand, and the envoys knelt to kiss it.
They never saw Queen Mary again.
点击收听单词发音
1 envoys | |
使节( envoy的名词复数 ); 公使; 谈判代表; 使节身份 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 continental | |
adj.大陆的,大陆性的,欧洲大陆的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 dame | |
n.女士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 sodden | |
adj.浑身湿透的;v.使浸透;使呆头呆脑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 providence | |
n.深谋远虑,天道,天意;远见;节约;上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 patriotic | |
adj.爱国的,有爱国心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 guise | |
n.外表,伪装的姿态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 garrison | |
n.卫戍部队;驻地,卫戍区;vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 crumbling | |
adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 galloping | |
adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 reined | |
勒缰绳使(马)停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 ); 驾驭; 严格控制; 加强管理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 contingent | |
adj.视条件而定的;n.一组,代表团,分遣队 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 galloped | |
(使马)飞奔,奔驰( gallop的过去式和过去分词 ); 快速做[说]某事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 lodgings | |
n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 slumbering | |
微睡,睡眠(slumber的现在分词形式) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 robin | |
n.知更鸟,红襟鸟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 sleepers | |
n.卧铺(通常以复数形式出现);卧车( sleeper的名词复数 );轨枕;睡觉(呈某种状态)的人;小耳环 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 prosaic | |
adj.单调的,无趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 briefly | |
adv.简单地,简短地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 cardinal | |
n.(天主教的)红衣主教;adj.首要的,基本的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 chapel | |
n.小教堂,殡仪馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 eminence | |
n.卓越,显赫;高地,高处;名家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 adjourned | |
(使)休会, (使)休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 aggravated | |
使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 ); 使更严重; 激怒; 使恼火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 heresy | |
n.异端邪说;异教 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 revoked | |
adj.[法]取消的v.撤销,取消,废除( revoke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 deserted | |
adj.荒芜的,荒废的,无人的,被遗弃的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 harassed | |
adj. 疲倦的,厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 quenched | |
解(渴)( quench的过去式和过去分词 ); 终止(某事物); (用水)扑灭(火焰等); 将(热物体)放入水中急速冷却 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 whatsoever | |
adv.(用于否定句中以加强语气)任何;pron.无论什么 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 hatred | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 alleged | |
a.被指控的,嫌疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 discourse | |
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 forth | |
adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 ostentation | |
n.夸耀,卖弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 wan | |
(wide area network)广域网 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 credentials | |
n.证明,资格,证明书,证件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 majesty | |
n.雄伟,壮丽,庄严,威严;最高权威,王权 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 inefficiency | |
n.无效率,无能;无效率事例 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 decrepitude | |
n.衰老;破旧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 munitions | |
n.军火,弹药;v.供应…军需品 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 antiquity | |
n.古老;高龄;古物,古迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 artillery | |
n.(军)火炮,大炮;炮兵(部队) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 assent | |
v.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 sufficiently | |
adv.足够地,充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 purely | |
adv.纯粹地,完全地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 warriors | |
武士,勇士,战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 admiration | |
n.钦佩,赞美,羡慕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 glistened | |
v.湿物闪耀,闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 promotion | |
n.提升,晋级;促销,宣传 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 actively | |
adv.积极地,勤奋地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 shrouded | |
v.隐瞒( shroud的过去式和过去分词 );保密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 withdrawn | |
vt.收回;使退出;vi.撤退,退出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 ascertained | |
v.弄清,确定,查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 ushered | |
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 exalted | |
adj.(地位等)高的,崇高的;尊贵的,高尚的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 chambers | |
n.房间( chamber的名词复数 );(议会的)议院;卧室;会议厅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 posture | |
n.姿势,姿态,心态,态度;v.作出某种姿势 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 erect | |
n./v.树立,建立,使竖立;adj.直立的,垂直的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 cynosure | |
n.焦点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 armour | |
(=armor)n.盔甲;装甲部队 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 flickering | |
adj.闪烁的,摇曳的,一闪一闪的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 careworn | |
adj.疲倦的,饱经忧患的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 wondrous | |
adj.令人惊奇的,奇妙的;adv.惊人地;异乎寻常地;令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 mused | |
v.沉思,冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 monks | |
n.修道士,僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 relics | |
[pl.]n.遗物,遗迹,遗产;遗体,尸骸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 beckoned | |
v.(用头或手的动作)示意,召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 fervent | |
adj.热的,热烈的,热情的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 piety | |
n.虔诚,虔敬 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 spasm | |
n.痉挛,抽搐;一阵发作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 inquiries | |
n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 );疑问;探究;打听 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 oratory | |
n.演讲术;词藻华丽的言辞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |