“She’s gone,” said he. “But not far—only to Foxwell Court.”
“Pray, where and what is Foxwell Court?” asked Roughwood, leading him by the arm into the parlour.
“I know not, but ’tis easily learned.”
“No doubt, but we shall do better to restrain our curiosity. I trust we shall have nothing more to excite it—or to tempt4 you to mingle5 unnecessarily in miscellaneous crowds from inn kitchens.”
“My dear Will,” cried Everell, “my going among that crowd was a stroke of heaven-sent luck. I received a most valuable warning—and from her, too! Think of it, those sweet lips, those heavenly eyes, that—”
“Warning? What do you mean?”
Everell told him.
“H’m!” said Roughwood. “That explains her maid’s conduct. Somebody had described you to the maid—somebody now up-stairs.”
“Yes, and the maid no sooner tells her of it than she takes the first opportunity to put us on our guard, at the risk even of her good name. What divine compassion6! What—”
“And the somebody up-stairs? No doubt your acquaintance of yesterday. Why, he may chance upon us at any moment, and give the alarm. And, if he has mentioned you to the maid, why not to a whole kitchenful of people? ’Tis high time indeed we were out of this place. How slow they are with the horses! We should be in another county by sunset.”
“Ay, dear Will, you should—and must.”
“I should? We should. Here are the horses at last. Come.” Roughwood seized the cloak-bags.
“Nay, Will, I—I will follow a little later,” said Everell, taking his own piece of luggage.
“Later? Are you mad?—Come, come, no nonsense, Charles. You will go with me, of course.”
“From this inn, certainly. But from this neighbourhood not for a—day or two. I mention it now, so that the boy need hear no discussion between us. I will ride with you a mile or so, then take my own way afoot. The boy, of course, must keep his horses together.—I will follow you, I say: I can find your man Budge7. Let his house be our rendezvous,—I can find it from your description,—and of course I will appear thereabouts only at night. Instruct him to be on the watch for me. If he can sail before I arrive, make good your own escape, and bid him expect me on his return. That is all, I think; and now to horse.”
“But, my dear lad,—my dear, dear lad,—what folly8 is this? Hear reason; you must be guided by me. You know not what you would risk—”
“No more than I’ve risked before now, and for no such cause, either. ’Tis settled, Will, I intend to stay hereabouts till I’ve seen that young lady again. Come, the boy is waiting with the horses. ’Tis you now that delays our going.”
“Charles, listen to me!—Rash! foolish! mad!”
“No.—I said you should hear when I saw the right face, Will. I declare I’ve seen it—and must see it again, whatever be the cost or the consequence.”
In another minute they were on horseback, moving down the High Street. The coach and chaise had started in the same direction, but were now out of sight. Everell hoped to come nearly up to them, that he might see where they left the highroad. But even after he had cleared the town and beheld9 a straight stretch of road far ahead, he found no sign of the vehicles in which he was interested. He inferred that they must have turned off through one of the streets of the town, which was indeed the case.
Meanwhile, Roughwood, full of sadness and misgiving10, had kept up his usual vigilance so far as to watch their guide for possible signs of having heard any such talk at the inn as had enabled the maid Prudence11 to identify Everell. But the boy did not regard either of the gentlemen at all suspiciously; he showed no curiosity or interest, and Roughwood was assured that, if Everell’s enemy had spoken of them at the inn, this lad had not been a listener. Such, as the reader knows, was the case, for Mr. Filson had thus far confided12 his story to nobody in the house but Prudence, and she had excluded herself from the conversation of the kitchen under a sense of affront13, until summoned by her mistress. Georgiana, upon hearing the cause of her alarm at the sight of the young stranger, had put the girl under the strictest commands of secrecy14, and had kept her in attendance afterward15, quietly returning to Foxwell and his friends as they were making ready to depart.
While he still rode with his friend, Everell allowed no mention of his resolve or of Foxwell Court to escape him, for he knew that the guide, whom Roughwood would dismiss at the end of that stage, would be returning with the horses, and might be interrogated16 by their enemy, who by that time would probably have learned of their short stay at the inn. On the other hand, Everell devoted17 some conversation to the purpose of deceiving the boy as to his reasons and intentions in leaving his friend and his saddle as he was about to do. Observing a house among some trees upon a hill, he pointed18 it out to Roughwood as the residence of a friend whom he meant to surprise with a brief visit. Having spoken to this effect, as if the matter had been previously19 understood between them, he added that, in order to make the surprise complete, he would approach the house on foot among the trees, and would therefore take leave of Roughwood, for the time, in the road. He could depend upon the gentleman he was about to visit to furnish him with conveyance20 to the next town, whence he would follow Roughwood by post-horse. This much having been said in the guide’s hearing, Everell pulled up his horse, and, Roughwood doing likewise, the two fugitives21 held a whispered conference upon the details of their next reunion.
To the last, Roughwood tried, by voice and look, to dissuade22 his comrade from this rash and sudden deviation23 from their original plans, but vainly. They made a redivision of their money, for each in his heart felt that some time must elapse ere they should—if ever—be fellow travellers again. Then Everell slid from his horse, slung24 his cloak-bag over his shoulder, gave a quick pressure of his friend’s hand, and a whispered “God speed you, dear lad!” in exchange for a silent and protesting farewell in the other’s clouding eyes; and stood alone in the highway. He waited till the horses disappeared with a last wave of Roughwood’s hand, around a turning: he then faced directly about, and set off with long and rapid strides.
His pace very soon brought him back to the town he had so recently left. Instead of going as far as to their former inn, he sought out one of humbler appearance, near the beginning of the street. Here he left his cloak-bag, for already in his brief walk he had experienced the stares of wonder naturally drawn25 by a gentleman who carried at the same time a sword at his side and a cloak-bag at his shoulder. He went into a barber’s shop, where, as he had used his razor that morning, and very little sign of beard had become visible in the meantime, his order for shaving created in the barber’s mind an impression that he must be an extremely luxurious26 gentleman in spite of his threadbare clothes,—probably a lord in misfortune. Everell easily set the barber talking about all the estates in the neighbourhood, and thus, without seeming to have more design in regard to Foxwell Court than to a dozen other places, elicited27 the information that that house was eight miles away on the road to Burndale.
Returning to the inn where he had left his bag, he told the landlord he was bound for Burndale, and had made up his mind to accomplish part of the journey that afternoon, in order to arrive there betimes the next day. He bargained for a horse and guide to take him seven or eight miles on the way, and leave him at some place where he could pass the night and obtain conveyance on to Burndale in the morning. In this way, without mentioning Foxwell Court, he contrived28 that he should be set down in its vicinity and yet have it supposed that his destination was far beyond.
He had so far trusted to luck and his quickness of sight to avoid confrontation29 with the enemy who, as he could not doubt, was close enough at hand. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he at last rode out of the town in the direction of Burndale: he believed that, whatever inquiries30 might be made upon the discovery that he had passed through the town, his traces were sufficiently31 confused, one set leading southward after his friend, and the other leading to Burndale, a good distance beyond Foxwell Court. So he rode forward with his new guide, in as great security of mind as he had enjoyed in months.
The road lay at first between fields, and here and there great trees stretched their boughs32 shelteringly over it. Sometimes green banks rose on one hand or both, and at a certain place a stream joined the road and went singing along in its company for half a mile. Then the way emerged upon an open common, which undulated on one side in rounded waves of heather till the purple mass met the gray sky, and on the other side to the border of a wood. But presently Everell was again in cultivated country, with stone farm-buildings set now and then upon lawny slopes among the fields.
One great house, of which the chimneys rose in the midst of trees, and which was to be approached by a driveway of some hundreds of yards from a gate and lodge33 at the roadside, held Everell’s attention for a moment. The guide volunteered the information that this was Thornby Hall. Everell repeated the name carelessly, looked a second time, and thought no more of it. Had he been able to foresee the future, he would have given the place a longer inspection34.
Two or three miles more brought them to a village. The guide said that here was the only public-house of entertainment in the near neighbourhood, and that if he went farther he was in danger of getting benighted35 on his return. Nothing could have suited Everell’s own plan better than this clear hint. He dissembled his content, however, and put on a frown of disappointment as he gazed at the mere36 ale-house—a low and longish building whose unevenness37 of line betokened38 its antiquity—before which the boy had drawn up. Everell feigned39 a reluctant yielding to necessity; dismounted peevishly40, and showed a petulant41 resignation in asking the rustic-looking landlord who appeared at the door if a decent room was to be had for the night.
The landlord, a drowsy42 little old man, who was too dull, too humble-minded, or too philosophical43 to resent any doubt of the excellence44 of his house, replied that the best room was at his honour’s service. Whereupon Everell, for the hearing of his guide, inquired urgently about the possibility of getting a horse in the morning to carry him to Burndale. Being assured on this point, also, Everell dismissed the guide, and had his single piece of baggage taken into his room, which proved to be not merely the best room, but the only room, properly so-called, in addition to the long apartment which served as kitchen, bar, living-room of the family, and general clubroom of the village; the chambers45 up-stairs being mere lofts46 under the roof.
Everell ordered a supper of bacon and eggs, which were cooked by the landlord’s fat, middle-aged47 daughter, and served by the old man himself. Turning quite reconciled to his accommodations as soon as his guide had left the scene, Everell drew the host into conversation, and, as the old fellow proved to be an amiable48 and honest soul, even in the matter of his charges, the traveller was shortly in possession of as many facts, legends, and reports concerning the gentry49 of this and adjacent parishes as his host had accumulated in years. All this information went through Everell’s mind as through a sieve50, with the exception of the circumstance that the old red-brick place, with the ivy51 and the gables, crowning the slope at the right, with a park behind it, which old red-brick place his honour would have seen had he ridden a little farther on, and would see when he rode that way in the morning, was Foxwell Court. This piece of news did not come out till Everell had finished his meal, and he might have learned a vast deal about the Foxwells, for the old man’s face brightened as if at the opening of a fresh and copious52 subject; but the young gentleman, with his usual precipitancy, rose and declared his intention of stretching his legs. Though he had cautiously refrained from being the first to mention Foxwell Court, he no sooner knew where it was, and how near, than he felt himself drawn as by enchantment53 in its direction.
As he stepped out upon the green space before the inn, a post-chaise came rattling54 by at a round speed. It was empty, and Everell recognized it as the one which had accompanied the coach from the inn yard that day: it was now returning from Foxwell Court, as it ought to have been doing sooner. The postilion, no doubt, had wasted time in the sociability55 of the servants’ hall, and was now making his horses fly to avoid belatement. He stared a moment at Everell, and was gone. Thinking nothing of this meeting, so brief and casual, Everell walked rapidly off toward Foxwell Court.
The sun had come out toward evening, and now shone bright on the weathercock and spire56 of the parish church that stood embowered some distance from the road, on Everett’s left, as he proceeded. A short walk brought him to the end of the village street of low gray cottages in their small gardens. Thence a little bridge bore him across a stream that came murmuring down through a large field from the wooded land Northward57. Looking ahead on that side of the road, he perceived the curved gables of an old house of time-dulled brick partly clad in ivy. It stood rather proudly at the top of a broad slope and against a background of woods or park, its upper windows ablaze58 with the sunlight. The lower part of the building was hidden by the walls of a forecourt and by a dilapidated-looking gate-house which dominated them. At the near end of the mansion59 appeared a shapeless remnant of broken tower and wing, ruinous and abandoned: from these ruins a wall extended to the verge60 of a slight precipice61 and, there turning at a right angle, ran back to the wood. Over the top of this wall were visible the signs of a neglected garden or orchard62.
The further, or Western, end of the house was flanked by trees and greenery, but the slope of rich green turf which descended63 in one long and gentle swell64 from the forecourt to the road was clear lawn. This great convex space of green was separated from the adjacent fields, and from the road, by a rude hedge of briar. Everell, having gazed a few moments from the bridge, walked on along the road, intending, if possible, to describe the circuit of the house at a respectful distance before attempting any near approach. He came to the barred opening in the hedge through which the private road led from the highway to the gate-house of the forecourt, but he let only his eyes travel up the curving way. As the hedge grew on lower ground beyond the roadside ditch, Everell had the house in full sight while he was passing. He came at length to where the hedge turned for its ascent65, and here he found that a narrow lane ran between it and the field adjoining.
He was speedily over the barred gate that shut this lane from the road. Ascending66 toward the park behind the house, he frequently lost sight of the latter by reason of the height of the hedge, which was, moreover, accompanied on that side by a line of oaks. As it came to the level of the forecourt, the hedge was interrupted by a gate. Looking across the bars of this, Everell could see not only the house but, nearer to him, stables and other outbuildings skilfully67 concealed68 by shrubbery and trees. His observation from the gateway69 being rewarded by nothing to the purpose, and that he might make the most use of the remaining light, Everell went on through the lane toward the park, to which he now saw it gave access. Passing the trees which prevented his view of the Western end of the house, he came abreast70 of a terrace which lay between the North front and the park, and which he could see across the hedge when he stood on tiptoe. A few more steps, and a vault71 over a five-barred gate, took him into the park itself, from the shades of which—for it was not kept clear of small growth, and offered plentiful72 covert73 of bush and bracken and other brush—he gazed upon the house as he turned and strolled Eastward74.
The balustrade of the terrace was broken here and there; and the mansion itself, where the ivy allowed its surface to be seen, was weather-worn and unrepaired. Yet, by virtue75 of its design and situation, the house had a magnificence. This, however, did not much affect Everell at the time, sensitive though he was to such impressions. What concerned him was, that he saw no face at any window, nor heard any voice from any part of the mansion except below stairs.
To complete the circuit of the place, in quest of any discovery to aid his purpose, he walked on till he came to a deep, thick-wooded glen that cut into the park from the grounds about the ruined Eastern end of the house. Through this ran the stream which, subsequently traversing the great field between the house and the village, crossed under the bridge. Everell turned along the crest76 of the glen-side, and thus in a few steps emerged, through a gate in the stone wall, upon the wild garden or orchard, of which he had seen signs from the road. It was a neglected place, evidently not now resorted to. Steps descended to it from the terrace, yet it was not so much lower but that Everell could glance along the terrace and the North front of the house. He leaned against a vacant stone pedestal to rest and consider.
The sun had set, and, far beyond the length of the terrace, the undulating fields and moorland, and the distant darkening mountains, was a sky of red and gold. But Everell had eyes for nothing but the old mansion, which was to him a case holding the loveliest jewel he had ever beheld. As the dusk came on, light appeared at some of the lower windows; a few notes of laughter and other vocal77 sounds gave evidence of life. But nobody came forth78. Everell dared not hope to catch a glimpse of the admired one that evening. He was at last sensible that night had fallen. All the colour had gone out of the West, and stars had appeared.
He would have moved, to warm himself by walking, but that two of the upper windows began to glow. Were they her windows? He watched with a beating heart, stilling even the sound of his breath. But several minutes passed without any manifestation79 even of a shadow momentarily darkening the panes80. The light vanished. No doubt she had gone to bed, fatigued81 with the journey of the day. Certainly they must be her windows, for the others of the party were less likely to retire so early. Everell heaved a sigh, and threw a kiss at the windows. Of a sudden he was uncomfortably chilly82: he bestirred himself, wished he had thought of bringing his cloak, and started off, as much upon a feeling that he could better meditate83 a course of procedure while walking as upon the impulse to set his blood in motion. But so far was he from any desire of going back to his inn that, without much conscious choice in the matter, he took a quite different direction, and followed the top of the glen-side into the park.
He had been moving at a rapid pace for several minutes before he gave any heed84 to his whereabouts. He had been guided safely among bush, bracken, and the great trunks of the trees by that unconscious observation for which in those days there was no better name than instinct. He now saw—for in many places the trees were not too close together for the admission of some light from stars and sky—that he had penetrated85 a good distance into the park, and had left the course of the glen. As he stood gazing into the gloom, wondering how accurately86 he could retrace87 his steps, he heard the loud crack of a gun, fired seemingly about two furlongs away.
“Poachers,” said he, after a moment’s thought.
He stepped forward to the edge of an open place, which sloped down gradually to a stream—doubtless the same that threaded the glen, or a tributary88. Beyond this water the corresponding ascent was clear of trees for perhaps a hundred yards. Down that side of the glade89 a dark figure was approaching so swiftly, and in such manner else, that Everell knew it as that of a man running for his life. There is a difference so pronounced as to be plain even in twilight90 and afar between the attitude of a man who runs in pursuit, and that of a man who runs from pursuit; and again, in either case, between that of one who runs in accordance with, and that of one who runs in opposition91 to, the law.
Having no desire to interfere92 with a rogue93 who had just fired at, or been fired at by, somebody’s gamekeeper, or at best had taken a forbidden shot at somebody’s game, Everell concealed himself among some bracken of a man’s height. He waited a few minutes, hoping to be informed by his ears when the man should have passed. But he heard neither footfall nor panting, nor any noise of pursuit.
Supposing that the fellow had changed his course at the stream, Everell stepped out from the bracken. He was just in time to confront a broad figure striding toward him. Ere Everell thought of self-defence, the newcomer uttered an ejaculation, and sprang aside with something upraised in the air. The next thing that Everell knew—for one rarely feels a knock-down blow on the head from such an instrument as the butt-end of a gun—he was lying among the bracken from which he had recently come forth.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
doles
|
|
| 救济物( dole的名词复数 )； 失业救济金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
reins
|
|
| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
lackey
|
|
| n.侍从；跟班 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
tempt
|
|
| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
mingle
|
|
| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
compassion
|
|
| n.同情，怜悯 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
budge
|
|
| v.移动一点儿；改变立场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
folly
|
|
| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
beheld
|
|
| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
misgiving
|
|
| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
prudence
|
|
| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
confided
|
|
| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
affront
|
|
| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
secrecy
|
|
| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
afterward
|
|
| adv.后来；以后 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
interrogated
|
|
| v.询问( interrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
devoted
|
|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
previously
|
|
| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
conveyance
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
fugitives
|
|
| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
dissuade
|
|
| v.劝阻，阻止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
deviation
|
|
| n.背离，偏离；偏差，偏向；离题 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
slung
|
|
| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
luxurious
|
|
| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
elicited
|
|
| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
contrived
|
|
| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
confrontation
|
|
| n.对抗，对峙，冲突 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
inquiries
|
|
| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
inspection
|
|
| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
benighted
|
|
| adj.蒙昧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
unevenness
|
|
| n. 不平坦，不平衡，不匀性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
betokened
|
|
| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
feigned
|
|
| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
peevishly
|
|
| adv．暴躁地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
petulant
|
|
| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
drowsy
|
|
| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
philosophical
|
|
| adj.哲学家的，哲学上的，达观的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
excellence
|
|
| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
chambers
|
|
| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
lofts
|
|
| 阁楼( loft的名词复数 )； （由工厂等改建的）套房； 上层楼面； 房间的越层 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
middle-aged
|
|
| adj.中年的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
amiable
|
|
| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
gentry
|
|
| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
sieve
|
|
| n.筛，滤器，漏勺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
ivy
|
|
| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
copious
|
|
| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
enchantment
|
|
| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
rattling
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
sociability
|
|
| n.好交际，社交性，善于交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
spire
|
|
| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
northward
|
|
| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
ablaze
|
|
| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
precipice
|
|
| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
orchard
|
|
| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
swell
|
|
| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
ascent
|
|
| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
ascending
|
|
| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
skilfully
|
|
| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
gateway
|
|
| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
abreast
|
|
| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
vault
|
|
| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
covert
|
|
| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
eastward
|
|
| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
crest
|
|
| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
vocal
|
|
| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
manifestation
|
|
| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
panes
|
|
| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
fatigued
|
|
| adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
chilly
|
|
| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
meditate
|
|
| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
heed
|
|
| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
accurately
|
|
| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
retrace
|
|
| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
tributary
|
|
| n.支流；纳贡国；adj.附庸的；辅助的；支流的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
glade
|
|
| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
opposition
|
|
| n.反对，敌对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
interfere
|
|
| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
rogue
|
|
| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |