“Softly, master,” said a gruff but apparently2 pacific voice. “’Tis all a mistake, belike, and, if so be it is, I ask your pardon humbly3. I make you out to be a gentleman, sir, and in that case not what I supposed. But you appeared so sudden, I took it you’d been lying in wait for me. I struck out first, and thought afterwards, which was maybe the wrong way about. So I stayed to see what hurt was done, and lend a hand if need be.—Nay, you’ll find I haven’t touched your pockets, sir.”
Forgetting the injury in the chivalrous4 after-conduct—for nine men out of ten would have run away, whether the blow had been mistaken or not—Everell replied as heartily5 as he could:
“Why, friend, you seem a very brave fellow, and I forgive you the mistake. As for harm, I do begin to feel something like a cracked crown; but my wits are whole enough, so the damage can’t be very great. I can tell better if you will allow me to rise—which you can safely do, as I assure you I’m not your enemy, nor was I lying in wait.”
Everell then explained his concealment6 among the bracken, relating exactly what he had seen. “I thought you must have got far away, to judge from your speed down yonder slope.”
“Nay, sir,” said the man, stepping back so that Everell might rise, “I had no need to run further. I was already off the land of them that were chasing me—the boundary is just beyond the glade7: you could see the fence among the trees if ’twere daylight—but I kept running lest they might send a shot after me. As soon as I found covert8 on this side the glade, I stopped to get my breath. Now, sir, I’ve been as frank with you as you’ve been with me; and I’m glad to see, by the way you stand and step, that no lasting9 injury is done, after all.”
Everell, whose hat had saved his skull10, and who could feel only a little blood, and that already coagulating, was able to stand without other unpleasant symptoms than a thumping11 ache of the head. His new acquaintance seemed ready to go about his own business, but Everell was loth to part with him so soon. He was a short, thick-set, long-armed fellow, with a broad face, whose bold, rugged12 features would by ignorant people be termed ugly, and whose scowling13, defiant14 look would by the same people be called wicked. But something in his speech or manner, or even in his appearance as far as could be made out in the comparative darkness, stamped him in Everell’s mind as an honest rascal15, worthy16 of confidence.
“No injury, I assure you,” replied Everell. “Indeed I must thank you for a lesson. Henceforth I shall look before I leap, in any similar case; with my hand on my sword, too.”
“’Tis a wise resolve, master. Though I for one am glad your hand was not on your sword to-night: for then I should have felt sure you were in league with them yonder, and worse might have happened.”
“By ‘them yonder,’ I take it you mean gamekeepers.”
“Ay, sir, Squire18 Thornby’s men. ’Tis his wood, yon enclosure. Here on the Foxwell land a fellow is safe enough, so long as it be only a rabbit or pheasant now and then. Sure the more fool I for not thinking of that when you appeared—I might ’a’ known the Foxwell people would never stop a man them Thornby keepers was down upon.”
“Then the shot I heard awhile ago was fired at you by the Thornby keepers?”
“No need to speak of that, sir. If so be you heard a shot, why, you heard it, and there’s an end.” While he spoke19, the man fingered with the flap of a well-stuffed pocket in his coat. “How I knew it was the Thornby people was by their voices, sir, whereby I saw fit to run. Not that I’m afeard of e’er a body of them all, but I hold it ’ud be fool’s work to shorten my own life or another man’s. And right glad I be to know I didn’t shorten your honour’s, especially now I see what sort of gentleman your honour is.”
“’Twould have been an odd twist of luck indeed,” returned Everell, good-humouredly. “I am much in your own case, friend: far from desiring to trip up another man, I must look to it that I’m not tripped up myself. My fellow-feeling at present is with the fox rather than the hounds.”
“Then belike you are seeking cover hereabouts?” inquired the poacher, in a tone of friendly interest.
“At all events, I wish to remain in this neighbourhood a few days, without encountering a great degree of publicity20. I say as much to an honest rogue21 like yourself—I mightn’t be as free with a more respectable man.”
“You’re not far wrong there, sir,” replied the fellow, not at all displeased22, but, on the contrary, gratified at the justice done him. “I don’t ask to know anything; I have secrets enough of my own. But if I can be of any small service, in the way of information about the lay o’ the land or such a matter—for I see you’re a stranger hereabouts, and I know these parts well—better than they know me, by a great deal—why, then, I’m your servant to command. But, if not, I’ll bid ye good night and safe lying wherever you may lodge23.”
“Oh, as for that, I lodge at the ale-house in the village, for to-night, at least. I told the landlord I would ride on to-morrow; I shall have to find some pretext24 for staying.”
“Well, sir, you know your own wishes—but ’tis not the most private place, that there ale-house, and they be inquisitive25 folk, them in the village.”
“What other lodging26 would you recommend?” asked Everell, for the first time seriously awake to the curiosity that his presence must arouse in so remote a place. “I certainly desire to go and come unobserved: I have no mind that my motions should be watched and discussed.”
“Why, that’s a question,” said the other, frankly27 nonplussed28.
“You ought to know the answer,” said Everell. “Surely you are able to go and come without witnesses, when upon such amusements as brought you out this evening.”
“Be sure I don’t live at the village ale-house, master. Nor at any village, neither; nor in sight of one.”
“Where, then, do you live?”
“I have my cottage, and my patch o’ ground that I contrive29 to coax30 a livin’ out of—with a little assistance from outside.” He scarce consciously laid his palm against the fat pocket. “’Tis a poor place, sir, but has the recommendation of privacy. ’Tis so lost in the woods, so to speak, and closed round by hillocks and thickets32, I doubt you could ever find it if I told you the way.”
“Who lives with you?”
“Nobody at present, since my last son was took by the press-gang—he was in Newcastle to visit his brother, who’s a porter there. They would go out to see the world, them lads!”
“Then you have room for a lodger,” said Everell, tentatively.
“Fine lodgings33 for a gentleman like you, sir!”
“Never mind; I’ve had worse,” Everell replied, thinking of Scotland; “and not so long since, either.”
“And the food, sir,—with your tender stomach?”
“Man, I’ve lived two days on a wet oatcake.”
The poacher was not the sort of fellow to offer the same objections over again, nor to be upset by the novelty of the suggestion. The two being circumstanced as they were, and intuitively trusting each other, no proposal could have been more natural. So far from hemming34 and hawing, therefore, the man merely enumerated35 such further disadvantages as a gentleman must encounter in sharing his abode36 and larder37, and, these being made light of, gave his assent38. The question immediately arose as to how Everell should transfer his residence from the ale-house to the poacher’s cottage without leaving a trace. It was important that he should depart from the ale-house in regular fashion, lest it be supposed that he had met with foul39 play, and a search be made. Moreover, he must have his belongings—for the cloak-bag contained his clean linen40, stockings, razor, and other necessaries of decent living: though he desired to be visible to but one person while in the neighbourhood, he desired that to her he should appear at no disadvantage. After some discussion, a course was planned, which Everell and his intended host—who gave his name as John Tarby—immediately set out upon.
John Tarby led the way through that part of the wood which Everell had lately traversed. They came, at length, to the verge41 of the glen; but, instead of keeping to the edge, the guide descended42 the bracken-covered side into the deeper gloom of the thickly timbered bottom. Here, indeed, Everell found what was to him complete darkness, and he had to clutch his companion’s coat-skirt for guidance. John Tarby, however, proceeded without hesitation43 or doubt, deviating44 this way or that to avoid tree or thicket31, the music of the stream rising or falling as the two men moved more or less close to its border. At last they emerged from the glen’s mouth, at the foot of the steep incline that rose to the old sunken garden of Foxwell Court. Here John Tarby concealed45 his gun by laying it across the boughs46 of a young oak. Where the glen and the timber ceased, the walkers were encountered by the high palings which served to enclose the park on that side except where wooden bars spanned the stream. By using the bars as a bridge, Everell and his guide crossed the stream. Tarby led the way a few rods farther, stopped, and carefully removed a loose paling or two. They squeezed themselves through the opening, and stood in the field. Tarby replaced the palings in their former apparently secure position, and then the two rapidly skirted the field, keeping close to the fence so as to profit by the dark background it afforded their bodies. Turning at the angle of the field, and skulking48 along a rough stone wall, they finally reached the village end, meeting their former companion, the stream, just in time for a momentary49 greeting ere it passed under the bridge. Leaving the poacher to lie unseen in the shadowed corner of the field, Everell clambered over a wooden barrier and up a low bank, and, having thus gained the road, went on alone to the ale-house.
The village street was deserted50, but the ale-house windows showed light; and the sound of slow, broad voices, mingled51 in chaffing disputation, indicated that ale was flowing in the general room. Everell went by way of the passage to his own chamber52, where a lighted candle awaited him. He rang for the landlord.
“I’ve found a conveyance53 to Burndale to-night,” said Everell, when the old man appeared. “A belated carrier, I believe, whom I met at the bridge yonder, where he’s waiting for me. But as I took this room for the night, you must allow me to pay for it, and the price of breakfast, too.”
The landlord, whose face had lengthened54 at the first words, now resumed his serenity55, and he amiably56 gathered in the silver that Everell had laid on the table. This seemed to warm him into solicitude57 for the departing guest’s convenience, and he expressed the hope that the wagoner was at the door to carry the bag.
“Nay, he wouldn’t turn back,” said Everell; “nor could he leave his horses. But ’tis not far to the bridge.” And he took up the bag to bear it himself.
“Nay, then, your pardon, sir, I’ll carry it,” interposed the landlord.
“My good man, I wouldn’t think of taking you from your house and customers.”
“’Tis not far, as you say, sir, and my daughter—”
But Everell had gone, and the obliging old fellow was left to scratch his head and wonder. The more he wondered, the more reason there seemed for doing so. He had not heard anything like a carrier’s wagon58 pass, as it must have done if it was now at the bridge and bound for Burndale. It was strange enough that a carrier’s wagon should travel that road at such an hour, and stranger still that it should do so without its custodian59 stopping for a cup of good cheer. And the gentleman’s unwillingness60 to have his baggage carried!
The ale-house keeper was not so old as to have outlived curiosity. He slipped out, crossed the green, and stood in the middle of the road, peering through the starlit night. Yes, there was the figure of the gentleman, truly enough, swiftly retreating down the village street that led to the bridge. The landlord slunk after him, keeping close to the walls and hedges, and stepping silently. He was soon sufficiently61 near the bridge to perceive that no conveyance waited there. The assurance of this acted so upon his mind as to make him stop and consider whether it was safe to go further. As he stood gaping62, the form of the strange gentleman suddenly vanished. The old man stared for another moment: then, assailed63 with a feeling that here was mystery nothing short of devil’s work, he turned and fled in a panic to his ale-house.
Everell, who had not once looked back, had passed from the old man’s view by turning from the road to rejoin the waiting poacher. Without a word, Tarby arose, relieved Everell of the cloak-bag, and led the way over the route by which they had come from the park. The palings were again removed and replaced, the stream was again crossed by means of the bars. The two entered the blackness of the glen, Tarby repossessing himself of his fowling-piece. By the time they had ascended64 to the general level of the park, the moon had risen, and, as they proceeded in a Northwesterly direction, the more open spaces, whether clothed in green sward or in bracken of autumnal brown, wore a beauty which Everell associated in his mind with the young lady not far away, and thus the silent woods and glades65 seemed to him a forest of enchantment66.
Tarby spoke only to call Everell’s attention to landmarks68 by which he might know the course again. He indicated the whereabouts of the keeper’s lodge without passing near it. They left the park by means of another such weak place in the barrier as had served them before, the poacher remarking that he preferred that kind of egress69 even when barred gates were near at hand. They now traversed a deserted bit of heath, covered with gorse, and plunged70 into a rough wood, much thicker and gloomier than the park behind them. Following a ditch, or bed of a dried-up stream, they emerged at last upon some partly clear, rugged land which rose gradually before them. This they ascended, and so came to a region of bare, rocky hills and deep wooded hollows. Tarby kept mainly to the hollows, until at last, having crossed a little ridge47, he descended to a vale lying in the shape of a crescent, and seeming in the moonlight to be covered with timber; but a narrow patch of clearing ran diagonally across, watered by a little stream. Everell and his guide came into this clearing at the end by which the brook71 left it. Near the stream—so near, indeed, that they had barely room to walk between—was a thick mass of tall gorse bushes, threatening scratches to any intruder. Tarby turned in among these at a narrow opening, followed close by his wondering guest. In a moment Everell discovered that the bushes, instead of constituting a solid thicket, formed but a hollow circle, within which was a low cottage of timber and rough plaster.
“Here us be,” said John Tarby, dropping bag and gun to respond to the leaping caresses72 of a mongrel hound that had sprung up from the door-stone. “He won’t hurt you, sir; ’tis a ’bedient animal. When I tells him to stop here, ’tis here he stops, and won’t come out even to meet me, unless I call or whistle.”
The dog transferred his attentions to Everell on perceiving him to be an approved visitor, while the poacher opened the door and lighted a candle within. Entering, Everell found a combination of kitchen, sleeping-chamber, and living-room, the whole giving an impression of comfort far exceeding that of the bothy he had for a time inhabited in Scotland.
“So this is your castle,” said Everell, looking around with approbation73.
“Ay, sir, with the gorse for wall and the brook for moat. And I don’t lack a postern to escape by, if so be I was ever hard pressed in front.” He opened a small square shutter74 in the back of the room. “’Tis all gorse out there, sir, and only me and the dog knows the path through to the rocks.”
There was at one end of the room a pallet bed, which Tarby assigned to his guest, saying he would shake down some heather for his own use at the opposite end. He went out, and returned with a sackful of this, having borrowed from the reserve supply of his cow, which he housed in a shed on the other side of the stream. He informed Everell that he kept a few fowls75 also, though the great part of his clearing was made to serve as a vegetable-garden. He asked what Everell would like for supper, and named three or four possibilities besides the rabbit he drew from his large pocket. But Everell had supped at the ale-house, and, as he was now quite fatigued76, he went to bed, leaving his host to partake of bread and cheese, while the dog munched77 a cold bone in the corner.
When Everell awoke, bright day was shining in through the single window and the open doorway78, and John Tarby was preparing a breakfast of eggs and bacon. Everell, despite his now eager appetite and his impatience79 to be about his purpose, dressed himself with care, performing his toilet with the aid of the stream, and putting on fresh linen and stockings. He then ate heartily, and, having given his host a sufficient idea of where he wished to spend his day, set forth17 in Tarby’s company, that the poacher might show him the way by daylight. Taking care to note every landmark67, Everell arrived finally in that portion of the Foxwell park which lay near the mansion80. Tarby here took his leave, to attend to his own affairs, making a rendezvous81 with his guest in case the latter should not have returned to the cottage by nightfall—for it was not certain that he could find his way after dark at the first attempt.
Everell strolled on till the gables of Foxwell Court appeared through the trees. He found a convenient spot where he could sit and observe the terrace that stretched between the house and the park. His highest hope was that the young lady would, sooner or later, come to take the air upon the terrace and extend her walk into the park.
He sat amidst bracken, peering out through countless82 small openings among the browning leaves and stems. A hundred times he changed his position, and a hundred sighs of impatience escaped him, before anything occurred to break the monotony of his watch. And when, toward noon, the great door of the house opened, and figures in feminine garb83 appeared, they proved to be only the two ladies in whom he was not interested. They sauntered along the terrace, arm in arm, talking and laughing, making a graceful84 picture against the broken balustrade, or on the wide steps between the moss-covered, crumbling85 flower-pots. They were joined presently by the stouter86 gentleman, and at last by the taller. Finally, after a half-hour of mirthful chatter87, the four went indoors again, and left the terrace empty for another long time of waiting.
In the afternoon the same four appeared on horseback in the lane which served as the bridle-path from the courtyard side of the house to the park. Entering the park at some distance from Everett’s hiding-place, they were soon lost to his view among the trees. If she should appear now, while they were absent! As time lengthened, he meditated88 going boldly to the house and asking for her. But he forced himself to patience, only moving to another watching-place a few yards away. He had scarcely done so, and resumed his gaze, when he beheld89 her standing90 upon the steps of the house.
He sat perfectly91 still, as if the least alarm might frighten her away. She advanced slowly down the terrace, looked West, then East, then into the park. Would that those inviting92 shades might lure93 her!—would that she might feel and obey the beckoning94 of his heart! But she turned and walked to the Western end of the terrace, and stood for awhile in admiration95 of the soft landscape and distant mountains. Presently he saw her look sharply toward the park, as if her attention had been suddenly, and not pleasantly, drawn96 that way. He heard the riders, who were doubtless coming back, and would pass near her in going through the lane. She turned and moved toward the opposite end of the terrace—evidently to avoid them. She did not stop till she was looking on the neglected garden from the top of the steps descending97 to it. There she stood for a few moments, contemplating98 the scene; then passed down the steps, disappearing from view.
Everell took his resolution: sprang from his place, and, bending his body forward, dashed through bracken and behind trees to the glen-side. He darted99 along the crest100, reached the gate in the wall, and saw the young lady sauntering amidst the trees and shrubbery. He glided101 swiftly forth, and was on his knee, pressing her hand to his lips, ere she could do more than utter a low cry of astonishment102.
The surprise in her face was quickly followed by pleasure; but consciousness came a moment later, with a rush of scarlet103 to her cheeks and a look of faint reproof104 and vague apprehension105 to her eyes.
“Good heaven, sir,” she said, in a low voice, “I never dreamed of seeing you again!”
“Fear nothing,” he replied, in a tone as guarded as hers; “we cannot be observed here—the shrubbery is all around us.—I have come to thank you for the warning you gave me at the inn yesterday.”
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
chivalrous
|
|
| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
concealment
|
|
| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
glade
|
|
| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
covert
|
|
| adj.隐藏的；暗地里的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
lasting
|
|
| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
skull
|
|
| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
thumping
|
|
| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
rugged
|
|
| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
scowling
|
|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
defiant
|
|
| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
rascal
|
|
| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
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： |
|
|
|
|
20
publicity
|
|
| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
rogue
|
|
| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
displeased
|
|
| a.不快的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
lodge
|
|
| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
pretext
|
|
| n.借口，托词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
inquisitive
|
|
| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
lodging
|
|
| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
nonplussed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的，陷于窘境的v.使迷惑( nonplus的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
contrive
|
|
| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
coax
|
|
| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
thicket
|
|
| n.灌木丛，树林 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
thickets
|
|
| n.灌木丛( thicket的名词复数 )；丛状物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
lodgings
|
|
| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
hemming
|
|
| 卷边 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
enumerated
|
|
| v.列举，枚举，数( enumerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
abode
|
|
| n.住处，住所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
larder
|
|
| n.食物贮藏室，食品橱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
assent
|
|
| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
foul
|
|
| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
verge
|
|
| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
hesitation
|
|
| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
deviating
|
|
| v.偏离，越轨( deviate的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
ridge
|
|
| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
skulking
|
|
| v.潜伏，偷偷摸摸地走动，鬼鬼祟祟地活动( skulk的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
momentary
|
|
| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
mingled
|
|
| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
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： |
|
|
|
|
54
lengthened
|
|
| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
serenity
|
|
| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
amiably
|
|
| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
solicitude
|
|
| n.焦虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
wagon
|
|
| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
custodian
|
|
| n.保管人，监护人；公共建筑看守 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
unwillingness
|
|
| n. 不愿意，不情愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
gaping
|
|
| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
assailed
|
|
| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
glades
|
|
| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
enchantment
|
|
| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
landmark
|
|
| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
landmarks
|
|
| n.陆标( landmark的名词复数 )；目标；（标志重要阶段的）里程碑 ~ (in sth)；有历史意义的建筑物（或遗址） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
egress
|
|
| n.出去；出口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
plunged
|
|
| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
brook
|
|
| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
caresses
|
|
| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
approbation
|
|
| n.称赞；认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
shutter
|
|
| n.百叶窗；(照相机)快门；关闭装置 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
fowls
|
|
| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
fatigued
|
|
| adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
munched
|
|
| v.用力咀嚼（某物），大嚼( munch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
impatience
|
|
| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
mansion
|
|
| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
rendezvous
|
|
| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
countless
|
|
| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
garb
|
|
| n.服装，装束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
graceful
|
|
| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
crumbling
|
|
| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
stouter
|
|
| 粗壮的( stout的比较级 )； 结实的； 坚固的； 坚定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
chatter
|
|
| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
meditated
|
|
| 深思，沉思，冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 )； 内心策划，考虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
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： |
|
|
|
|
90
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
perfectly
|
|
| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
inviting
|
|
| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
lure
|
|
| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
beckoning
|
|
| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
descending
|
|
| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
contemplating
|
|
| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
crest
|
|
| n.顶点；饰章；羽冠；vt.达到顶点；vi.形成浪尖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
glided
|
|
| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
scarlet
|
|
| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
reproof
|
|
| n.斥责，责备 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |