‘How does she head, Finn?’ cried Wilfrid to the skipper, who was viewing her through a long, heavy, powerful glass of his own.
‘Coming dead on end for us, sir.’
‘What’ll she be, captain?’ said I.
He eyed her a bit, and answered, ‘A square rig, sir; a bit of a barque, I dare say.’
[68]
My cousin suddenly slapped his leg—one of his favourite gestures when a fit of excitement seized him. ‘Charles,’ he bawled1, ‘we’ll speak her. D’ye hear me, Finn? We’ll speak her, I say!’
‘Ay, ay, sir,’ cried the captain.
‘She may have news for us,’ Wilfrid proceeded; ‘it is about time we fell in with something that has sighted the “Shark.”’
‘A bit betimes, sir,’ said Finn, touching2 his cap and approaching to give me his telescope which I had extended my hand for.
‘Confound it, man!’ cried Wilfrid, in a passion, ‘everything’s always too soon with you. Suppose by this time to-morrow we should have the schooner3 in sight—what then, hey? What would be your arguments? That she had no business to heave in sight, yet?’
Finn made no answer, but pulled his cap off to scratch his head, with his lips muttering unconsciously to himself to the energy of his secret thoughts, and his long face, which his mouth seemed to sit exactly in the middle of, working in every muscle with protest.
The distant vessel4 was showing in the glass as high as the curve of her fore5-course, with now and again a dim sort of refractive glimmer6 of wet black hull7 rising off a head of sea into an airy, pale length of light that hung in a low gleam betwixt the junction8 of sea and sky. The sun was westering though still high, but his orb9 was rayless, and the body of him looked no more than an oozing10 of shapeless yellow flame into the odd sky that seemed a misty11 blue in places, though where it appeared so you would notice a faint outline of cloud; and as he waned12, his reflection in the wind-wrinkled heave of the long head-swell13, seemed as if each broad soft brow was alive with runnings of flaming oil.
There was to be no more argument about good and bad families. Wilfrid now could think of nothing but the approaching vessel, and the child-like qualities which went to the creation of his baffling, unfixable nature showed in an eager impatience14, in which you seemed to witness as much of boyish desire for something fresh and new to happen as of anything else. For my part, I detest15 arguments. They force you to give reasons and to enter upon definitions. I fancied, however, I was beginning to detect Miss Laura’s little weakness. There was a feminine hankering in her after ancient blood, sounding titles, high and mighty16 things. As I glanced at her sweet face I felt in the humour to lecture her. What but this weakness had led to her sister’s undoing17? Wilfrid was a worthy18, honest, good-hearted, generous-souled creature, spite of his being a bit mad: but I could not imagine he was a man to fall in love with; and in this queer chase we had entered upon there was justification19 enough of that notion. His wife had married him, I suppose, for position, which she had allowed the first good-looking rogue20 she met to persuade her was as worthless as dust and ashes unless a human heart beat inside it. And the scoundrel was right, though he deserved the halter for his practical illustration of his meaning. I met Miss Jennings’ eye and she smiled. She called softly to me:
[69]
‘You are puzzling over the difference between a good and an old family!’
‘I wish my countenance21 were less ingenuous,’ said I.
‘Hadn’t you better run up some signal,’ exclaimed Wilfrid, turning upon Finn, ‘to make yonder craft know that we want her to stop?’
‘Lay aft here a couple of hands,’ shouted Finn in a sulky note.
Two seamen22 instantly came along. The flag-locker was dragged from its cleats or chocks under the small, milk-white grating abaft23 the wheel; Finn, with a square, carrot-coloured thumb ploughed into the book of directions; then, after a little, a string of butterfly bunting soared gracefully24 to the topmost head, where the flags were to be best seen, a long pennant26 topping the gay colours like a tongue of flame against the rusty27 yellow of the atmosphere; the dip of the yacht to the swell became a holiday curtsey, and you thought of her as putting on a simper like some pretty country wench newly pranked out by her sweetheart with a knot of ribbons.
‘Aft and haul up the main-tack; round in on the weather fore braces28 and lay the topsail to the mast; down hellum! so—leave her at that!’ and the ‘Bride,’ with the wide ocean heave lifting to the bow, came to a stand, her way arrested, the wind combing her fore and aft canvas like the countless29 invisible fingers of giant spirits, and a dull plash and sulky wash of water alongside, and a frequent sharp clatter30 of wheel chains to the jar of the churning rudder. There was the true spirit of the deep in this picture then, for the seamen had dropped the various jobs they were upon, and stood awaiting orders about the decks, every man’s shadow swaying upon the salt sparkling of the spotless planks31, and all eyes directed at the approaching craft that had now risen to her wash streak32 and was coming along in a slow stately roll with her canvas yearning33 from flying jib to fore royal, every cloth yellow as satin, and flashes of light like the explosion of ordnance34 breaking in soft sulphur-coloured flames from her wet side as she lifted it sunwards from the pale blue brine that melted yeastily from her metalled forefoot into two salival lines, which united abaft and went astern in a wake that looked as if she were towing some half mile length of amber-tinctured satin. Yet there was no beauty in her as in us; it was the sweetness and grace of airy distance working in her and the mild and misty gushing35 of the afternoon radiance, and the wild enfolding arms of the horizon sweeping36 as it were the very soul of the mighty ocean loneliness into her solitary37 shape and into her bland38 and starlike canvas, until you found her veritably spiritualised out of her commonplace meaning into a mere39 fairy fancy, some toy-like imagination of the deep; but she hardened rapidly into the familiar prosaics of timber, sailcloth and tackling, as she came floating down upon us, sinking to her narrow white band, then poised40 till a broad width of her green sheathing41 was exposed, with a figure in a tall chimney-pot hat standing42 on the rail holding on by a backstay.
[70]
She was a slow old waggon43, and one saw the reason of it as she came sliding along, rolling like an anchored galliot in a sea-way, in her bows as round as an apple and her kettle-bottom run; and Wilfrid’s impatience grew into torture to us to see almost as much as to him to feel as he’d pace the deck for a minute or two tumultuously, then fling against the rail with a wild stare at the approaching craft as if indeed he was cocksure she was full of news for him, though for my part it seemed mere trifling44 with the yacht’s routine to back her yard that we might ask questions at that early time of day. She steered46 so as to come within easy hail and then boom-ending her foretopmast studdingsail she backed her main topsail and floated the full length of her out abreast47 of us within pistol shot, pitching clumsily and bringing her bows out of it with the white brine frothing like lacework all about her there, her line of bulwarks48 dotted with heads watching us, the sounds of the creaking of her aloft very clear along with a farmyard noise of several cocks crowing one after the other lustily, and the lowing of bulls or cows.
‘Barque ahoy?’ sung out Captain Finn, funnelling49 his hands as a vehicle for his voice.
‘Halloa?’ cried the figure that stood upon the rail in the most cheery, laughing voice that can be conceived.
‘What ship is that?’
‘The “Wanderer.”’
‘Where are you from? and where are you bound to?’
‘From Valparaiso to Sunderland,’ answered the other, in a way that made one think he spoke50 with difficulty through suppressed mirth.
‘Will you tell us,’ bawled Finn, ‘if you’ve sighted an outward bound fore and aft schooner-yacht within the past week?’
‘Sighted a fore and aft schooner-yacht? ay, that I have, master, fine a vessel as yourn pretty nigh,’ shouted the other as though he must burst in a moment into a roar of laughter.
‘Ask him aboard! ask him aboard!’ cried Wilfrid wild with excitement, slapping his knee till it was like a discharge of pistols. ‘Beg him to do me the favour of drinking a bottle of champagne51 with me; ask him—ask him—but first ascertain52 if he has made an entry of the meeting in his log-book.’
‘Ay, ay, sir. Ho the barque ahoy!’
‘Halloa?’
‘Can you tell us when and whereabouts ye fell in with that there schooner?’
‘Tell ye! to be sure I can; got it in black and white, master. Ha! ha! ha!’ and here the old figure in the tall hat clapped his hand to his side and laughed outright53, toppling and reeling about on the rail in such a manner that I took it for granted he was drunk and expected every moment to see him plunge54 overboard.
‘Ask him aboard! ask him aboard!’ shrieked56 Wilfrid. ‘Request him to bring his log-book with him. We will send a boat.’
Finn hailed the barque again. ‘Sir Wilfrid Monson’s compli[71]ments to you, sir, and will be pleased to see you aboard to drink a bottle of champagne with him. Will you kindly57 bring your log-book with you? We will send a boat.’
‘Right y’are,’ shouted the old chap with a humorous flourish of his hand, and so speaking he sprang inboard, laughing heartily58, and disappeared down his little companion hatch.
A boat was lowered with four men in charge of surly old Crimp. My cousin’s excitement was a real torment59 to witness. He smote60 his hands violently together whilst he urged the men at the top of his voice to bear a hand and be off or the barque would be swinging her topsail and sailing away from us. He twitched61 from head to foot as though he must fall into convulsions; he bawled to the sailors not to wait to cast anything adrift but to put their knives through it as though somebody were drowning astern and the delay of a single moment might make all the difference between life or death. ‘By heaven!’ he cried, halting in front of me and Miss Jennings with a fierceness of manner that was rendered almost delirious62 by the quality of savage63 exultation64 in it, ‘I knew it would fall out thus! They cannot escape me. Of course it is the “Shark” that that fellow has sighted.’ He broke from us and ran to the rail and overhung it, gnawing65 his nails whilst he watched the receding66 boat with his eyelids67 quivering and his face working like that of a man in acute pain.
‘I fear,’ said I, in a low voice, to Miss Jennings, ‘that it would not require more than two or three incidents of this sort to utterly68 dement him. His resolution is strong enough. Why in the name of pity will not he secure his mind to it? It’s bound to go adrift else, I fear.’
‘But realise what he has suffered, Mr. Monson,’ she answered gently, ‘such a blow might unseat a stronger reason than his. I cannot wonder at his excitement. Look how I am trembling!’ She lifted her little hand, which shook as though she had been seized with a chill, but there was tremor69 enough in her voice to indicate her agitation70. ‘The mere idea that the “Shark” may be much nearer to us than we imagine—that this chase may very shortly bring her within sight of us——’ a strong shiver ran through her. ‘Do you believe it is the “Shark” that that old man saw?’
‘I shall be better able to judge when he comes aboard,’ said I. ‘See, our boat is alongside. They must fend71 her off handsomely, by George, if she is not to be swamped. Heavens! how that old cask wallows!’
In a few moments the little old man in the tall hat came to the gangway and looked over; there was apparently72 some discussion; I imagined the elderly humourist was going to funk it, for I fancied I saw him wag his head; but on a sudden, all very nimbly, he dropped into the wide main chains, whence, watching his opportunity, he toppled into the boat, which immediately shoved off. Wilfrid went to the gangway to receive him. I was a little apprehensive73 of the effect of my cousin’s behaviour—which had some[72]thing of the contortions74 and motions of a galvanised body—upon the old sea-dog that was coming, and I say I rather hoped that this captain might be a bit too tipsy to prove a nice observer. I took a view of him as he sat in the stern sheets, the boat sinking and rising from peak to hollow as she burst through the water to the gilded75, sparkling sweep of the admirably handled oars76, and could have laughed out of mere sympathy with the broad grin that lay upon his jolly, mottled countenance. His face was as round as the full moon, and of the appearance of brawn77; his nose was a little fiery78 pimple79; small white whiskers went in a slant80 in the direction of his nostrils81, coming to an end under either eye. His hat was too big for him, and pressed down the top of his ears into the likeness82 of overhanging flaps under the Quaker-like breadth of brim; his mouth was stretched in a smile all the time he was approaching the yacht, and he burst into a loud laugh as he grasped the man-ropes and bundled agilely83 up the side of the ‘Bride.’
‘You are very good to come on board, sir,’ cried Wilfrid, bowing with agitation, and speaking as though suffering from a swollen84 throat, with the hurry, anxiety, impatience, which mastered him. ‘I thank you for this visit. I see you have your log-book with you. Let me inquire your name?’
‘Puncheon, sir. Ha! ha! ha! Toby Puncheon, sir; a rascally85 queer name, ho! ho! And your honour’s a lord, ain’t ye? I didn’t quite catch the words. He! he! he!’ rattled86 out the old fellow, laughing after almost every other word, and staring at us one after another as he spoke without the least diminution87 of his prodigious88 grin.
‘No, no; not a lord,’ exclaimed Wilfrid; ‘but pray step this way, Captain Puncheon. Charles, please accompany us. Captain Finn, I shall want you below.’
He led the road to the companion, calling to the steward89, whilst he was yet midway down the steps, to put champagne and glasses upon the table.
Captain Puncheon’s grin grew alarmingly wide as he surveyed the glittering cabin. ‘My eye!’ he cried, after a rumbling90 laugh full of astonishment91, ‘them’s looking-glasses and no mistake! and pickle92 me blue if ever I see the likes of such lamps afore on board ship!’ growing grave an instant to utter a low whistle. ‘Why, it’s finer than a theaytre, ain’t it?’ he exclaimed, turning to me, once more grinning from ear to ear, and addressing me as if I was his mate that had come off with him. His glass was filled; he drank to us, and pulled his log-book out of the piece of newspaper in which he had brought it wrapped up.
‘Will you kindly give us,’ said Wilfrid, ‘the date on which you passed the schooner-yacht?’
‘Aye, that I will,’ cried Puncheon, turning back the pages of his log, and then pouncing93 upon an entry with a forefinger94 curled by rheumatism95 into the aspect of a fish-hook as though the piece of writing would run away if he did not keep it squeezed down upon[73] the page. He felt about his coat with his other hand, and then bursting into a laugh exclaimed: ‘Gents, you must read for yourselves. Blow’d if I ain’t gone and forgot my glasses.’
The entry was perfectly96 ship-shape, and written in a round, somewhat trembling old hand. There were the usual records of weather, courses steered, and the like, and under the heading of observations was: ‘Passed large schooner-yacht steering97 west-south-west. Hoisted98 our ensign, but she showed no colours.’ The log gave the latitude99 and longitude100 of this encounter as 16° West longitude, 41° 30′ North latitude.
I hurriedly made certain calculations after reading aloud this entry, and addressing Finn said, ‘If that vessel be the “Shark” she has managed to hold her own so far.’
‘Ay, sir,’ answered Finn, peering at my figures, ‘but what’s been her weather?’
‘Are you chasing of her, gents?’ whipped out Puncheon, smiling as though he only waited for us to answer to break into a roar of laughter.
‘Yes,’ cried Wilfrid fiercely, ‘and we mean to catch her;’ then, controlling himself, ‘Captain, will you be so good as to describe the vessel you met?’
‘Describe her? ’Course I will,’ answered the old chap, and forthwith he gave us a sailorly picture of a yacht apparently of the burthen of the ‘Shark’: a fore and aft schooner, a long, low, black, handsome vessel, loftily rigged even for a craft of her kind. She passed within a mile and a half of the ‘Wanderer’; it was about eight o’clock in the morning, the sunshine bright, the wind north-east, a pleasant air. I asked Puncheon if he examined her with his glass? ‘Examine her through my glass? Ay, that I did,’ he answered in his hilarious101 way. ‘I see some figures aboard aft. No lady. No, ne’er a hint of a female garment. Happen if there was women they was still abed, seeing how young the morn was for females as goes to sea for pleasure. I took notice of a tall gent in a white cap with a naval102 peak and a white jacket.’ That was about as much as he could tell us, and so saying he regaled himself with a hearty103 laugh. Finn questioned him as one sailor would another on points of the yacht’s furniture aloft, but the old fellow could only speak generally of the impression left upon him. Wilfrid’s face was flushed with excitement.
‘Finn,’ he exclaimed, ‘what do you think?’
‘Why, your honour,’ said the man deliberately104, ‘putting two and two together, and totalling up all sarcumstances of rig, haspect, time and place, I don’t doubt that the schooner-yacht Captain Puncheon here fell in with was the “Shark.”’
Puncheon rose.
‘Empty this bottle,’ cried Wilfrid to him. ‘By heaven, man, the news you give me does me good, though!’
The old chap filled up, grinning merrily.
‘Gents,’ he cried, holding the foaming105 glass aloft and looking at it[74] with one eye closed, ‘your errand’s an honest one, I’m sure, and so here’s success to it. The craft I fell in with has got legs, mind ye. Yes, by thunder, ha! ha! ha! she’s got legs, gents, and’ll require all the catching107 I expects your honours have stomachs for. ’Tain’t to be done in the inside of a month, he! he! he! and so I tells ye. See her slipping through it under her square sail! God bless my body and soul, ’twas like the shadow of a cloud running ower the waters. But give yourselves a long course, gents all, and you’ve got a beauty here as must lay her aboard—in time, ha! ha! ha! Your honours, my respects to you.’
Down went the wine and up he got, pulling his hat to his ears and stepping with a deep sea roll up the companion ladder. We followed him to the gangway.
‘Is there nothing more to ask, Charles?’ cried Wilfrid.
But Puncheon had given us all he had to tell, and though I could have wished him to hint at something distinctive108 in the vessel’s hull, such as her figure-head or any other point of the like kind in which the ‘Shark’ might differ from vessels109 of her build and appearance, yet there was the strongest possible reason to suppose that the craft he reported was Lord Winterton’s schooner, with Lady Monson and Colonel Hope-Kennedy on board.
Whilst Captain Puncheon waited for the yacht’s boat to haul alongside Sir Wilfrid sent for a box of cigars which he presented to the old chap. The gift produced such a grin that I saw some of the hands forward turn their backs upon us to conceal110 their mirth.
‘Do you think, captain,’ exclaimed Wilfrid, once more rendered almost alarmingly convulsive in his movements by the excitement that filled him, ‘that there are men aboard your vessel who took note of more than you did in the yacht’s appearance? If so——’
But Puncheon interrupted him by saying that he was the only man who examined the schooner through a glass, and therefore neither his mate nor any of the seamen who were on deck at the time could possibly have observed her so fully25 as he.
‘Make haste and return,’ bawled my cousin to the fellows in the boat as they shoved off with the grinning old skipper in the stern sheets. ‘Every moment is precious,’ he muttered, walking briskly in short turns opposite Miss Jennings and me. ‘To think of them sneaking111 along like the shadow of a cloud, hey!’ he sent a wildly impatient look aloft and brought his foot with a heavy stamp to the deck.
‘It is the “Shark” then?’ whispered Miss Jennings.
‘No doubt of it,’ I answered.
She glanced at me as if she had been wounded and her lips turned pale. Well, thought I, anticipation112, to be sure, is often the worst part of an affair of this sort, but if the mere hearing of the ‘Shark’ affects this little sweetheart so violently, how will the sighting of the craft serve her, and the boarding of her, if ever it comes to it? In a few minutes the yacht’s boat was returning, whilst you saw the figure of old Puncheon clambering out of his[75] main chains over the bulwarks of the ‘Wanderer.’ A little later and there were hands tailing on to the falls, the boat rising dripping to the davits, and the foretopsail yard slowly pointing its arm to the wind; then, to the full weight of the breeze sweeping red with the sunset into her hollowed canvas, the ‘Bride’ leaned down, sullenly113 shouldering the swell into foam106 with the first stubborn push of her bows, till gathering114 way she was once more swinging into the west and south with the gloom of the evening growing into a windy vagueness on her lee-beam, whilst on the weather quarter, black as indigo115 against the dull western redness, was the figure of the barque rolling with filled maintopsail over the long Atlantic heavings, and rapidly diminishing into the fragile beauty of some exquisitely116 carved toy of ebony wood on the skirts of the rising and falling fan-shaped stretch of seething117 paleness that marked the limits of the ‘Bride’s’ wake.
Wilfrid, who had been standing at the compass staring with a frown at the card, with his arms folded, whilst the men trimmed sail and started the yacht afresh, marched up to me when that business was over and exclaimed, ‘What did you make the average of the “Shark’s” daily runs according to Puncheon’s reckonings of the place of his meeting her?’
‘About a hundred and eighty miles a day,’ I answered.
‘We haven’t been doing that though!’
‘No: but wait a little,’ said I; ‘let your “Bride” feel the trade wind humming aloft.’
‘Finn,’ he bawled. The captain came running to us. ‘Fetch the track chart, Finn. There’s light enough yet to see by.’
The man disappeared and very quickly returned, with a handy chart of the world which he unrolled and laid on the top of the skylight. We all overhung it, Miss Jennings amongst us. The men forward watched us curiously118. Something in the manner of them suggested to the swift glance I sent their way that the perception our voyage was more serious, with a wilder, sterner purpose in it than they had imagined, was beginning to dawn upon them since Puncheon’s visit.
‘Mark the spot, Finn,’ exclaimed Wilfrid in the dogged voice of a man sullenly and obstinately119 struggling to master a feeling of exhaustion120, ‘the exact spot where the barque fell in with the “Shark.”’
Finn produced a parallel ruler, a pair of compasses, a pencil and the like, calculated and indicated the spot by a little cross.
‘How short the distance she has sailed seems!’ exclaimed Miss Jennings.
‘Fifteen degrees of latitude, though,’ said I; ‘these charts are mighty deceptive121. A very small pencil mark will cover a tremendously long course.’
Wilfrid stood motionless with his eyes fixed122 upon the mark Finn had made. He talked a little to himself, but voicelessly. The captain watched him nervously123. My cousin came to himself[76] with a start. ‘What will have been the “Shark’s” course by magnetic compass, Finn, say from the latitude of the Scillies to the spot where the “Wanderer” met her?’
The captain put his parallel rules on the chart and named the course; what it was I forget,—south-west by south, I believe, or something near it.
‘Supposing the wind not to head her, Finn,’ continued my cousin, ‘would she steer45 the same course down to the time when the “Wanderer” met her?’
‘No, your honour. There’s no call for Fidler any more than there is for me to go to the westwards of Madeira.’
‘Now, Finn, show me on this chart where, steering the course you are now heading, you will have arrived when you have run nine hundred miles?’
‘How’s her head?’ sung out Finn to the fellow at the wheel. The man answered. ‘You hear it, Sir Wilfrid?’ said Finn. My cousin nodded. The captain put his rules on the chart, adjusting them to the course the ‘Bride’ was then sailing, and the measure of nine hundred miles brought the mark he made to touch the cross that represented the ‘Shark’s’ place. ‘That’s right, I think, Mr. Monson,’ said he, turning a sober face of triumph on me.
‘Quite right,’ I answered, and I spoke no more than the truth, for the poor fellow had made his calculations with laborious124 anxiety.
Wilfrid clapped his hands together with a shout of laughter that carried his voice to a shriek55 almost, and without speaking a word he strode to the hatch and went below.
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1
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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waned
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| v.衰落( wane的过去式和过去分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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detest
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| vt.痛恨，憎恶 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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undoing
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| n.毁灭的原因，祸根；破坏，毁灭 | |
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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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justification
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| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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abaft
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| prep.在…之后；adv.在船尾，向船尾 | |
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gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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pennant
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| n.三角旗；锦标旗 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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braces
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| n.吊带，背带；托架( brace的名词复数 )；箍子；括弧；（儿童）牙箍v.支住( brace的第三人称单数 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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29
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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30
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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31
planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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32
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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33
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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34
ordnance
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| n.大炮，军械 | |
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35
gushing
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| adj.迸出的；涌出的；喷出的；过分热情的v.喷，涌( gush的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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36
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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37
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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38
bland
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| adj.淡而无味的，温和的，无刺激性的 | |
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39
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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40
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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41
sheathing
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| n.覆盖物，罩子v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的现在分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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42
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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43
waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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44
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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45
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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46
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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47
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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48
bulwarks
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| n.堡垒( bulwark的名词复数 )；保障；支柱；舷墙 | |
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49
funnelling
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| 倾销( funnel的现在分词 ) | |
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50
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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51
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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52
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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53
outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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54
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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55
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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56
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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59
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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60
smote
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| v.猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去式 ) | |
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61
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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62
delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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63
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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64
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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65
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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66
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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67
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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71
fend
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| v.照料（自己），（自己）谋生，挡开，避开 | |
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72
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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73
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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74
contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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75
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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76
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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77
brawn
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| n.体力 | |
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78
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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79
pimple
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| n.丘疹，面泡，青春豆 | |
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80
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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81
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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82
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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83
agilely
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| adv.敏捷地 | |
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84
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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85
rascally
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| adj. 无赖的，恶棍的 adv. 无赖地，卑鄙地 | |
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86
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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87
diminution
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| n.减少；变小 | |
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88
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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89
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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90
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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91
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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92
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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93
pouncing
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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94
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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95
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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96
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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97
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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98
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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100
longitude
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| n.经线，经度 | |
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101
hilarious
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| adj.充满笑声的，欢闹的；[反]depressed | |
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102
naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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103
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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104
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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105
foaming
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| adj.布满泡沫的；发泡 | |
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106
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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107
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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108
distinctive
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| adj.特别的，有特色的，与众不同的 | |
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109
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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110
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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111
sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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112
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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113
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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114
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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115
indigo
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| n.靛青，靛蓝 | |
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116
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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117
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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118
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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119
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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120
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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121
deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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122
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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123
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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124
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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