Things were looking up at Three Star, and times were flush. The Eldorado had been newly painted—a brilliant red picked out with green—some of the tents had developed into quite respectable wooden houses; MacGrath’s whisky had not improved, and was still as deadly; but empty champagne8 cases, piled ostentatiously outside the saloon—for the benefit of Dog’s Ear, which had not been lucky—indicated the prosperity of the camp.
At a newly covered table Varley sat, as of old, deftly9 and gracefully10 shuffling11 the cards, and softly inquiring, “Who plays this deal?” In honor of the blandness12 of the season he wore a new suit of the latest Melbourne fashion, and Esmeralda’s diamond pin glittered and shot fire from his correctly tied scarf.
The saloon was full, business in fine swing, and MacGrath, from his place behind the bar, dispensed13, as of old, noggins[267] of his infamous14 whisky; there was the usual noisy game of billiards15 going on, and now and again a youth with musical gifts was hammering on the tin-kettle piano. Taffy, gloriously drunk, was bawling16 out the last comic song—it had expired in England of general loathing17 six months ago—and two men were quarreling in a corner and breathing threats of mutual18 destruction.
As of old, Varley sat serene19, impassive, languid, his white hands shuffling and dealing20 the cards, his dark eyes glancing at the faces round the table as if he were performing some feat21 of magic, from which, sooner or later, as surely as fate or death, he would reap the benefit.
In a pause of the game, Taffy with difficulty steered22 his way to the table and smiled round with tipsy complacency.
“How’s the game a-going, Varley?” he asked, with a hiccough.
Varley nodded.
“I’ll sit down and take a hand,” said Taffy.
“No, you won’t,” remarked Varley, examining his cards with a quick sweep of his eye, which took in their value in an instant.
“I won’t?” said Taffy. “Oh, won’t I! Why not?”
“Because you couldn’t sit down if you tried, you old soaker; and if you did, you couldn’t see the cards. Go and get another drink and waltz off to bed; your nurse is waiting to undress you, my child.”
Taffy subsided23, as he always did, with a tipsy grin.
“That di’mond o’ Esmeralda’s is a-firing away to-night fine, Varley,” he said, changing the subject discreetly24. “Reminds me of them eyes of hers. Blame me if they usedn’t to shine jes’ like that when she was in one of her tantrums.”
Varley gave the slightest of nods, and Taffy leaned against a chair and sighed with maudlin25 tenderness.
“Ain’t—ain’t heard from her lately, I s’pose, Varley?”
“Not lately,” said Varley. “Get out of the light.”
“’Pears to me she don’t write as often as she might,” remarked one of the players. “Dessay she’s a’most forgot us all—forgot as there ever was such a dog-darned place as Three Star.”
Taffy lurched threateningly toward the speaker.
“What’s that?” he demanded, with the quick resentment26 of a tipsy man thirsting for a fight. “Who’s that as spoke27? Scraggy-head, warn’t it? I thought so! And you calkilate Esmeralda’s forgot us all, do you, Ed-er-ward? Ain’t that[268] what he said, boys, or did my ears misdeceive me? Here, come out of it! Stand up and repeat them words like a man, and I’ll knock the head off yer!”
The man growled29 and looked at Varley appealingly.
“Why don’t somebody take the old man home?” he said, aggrievedly. “I ain’t said nothing’ agin her. It’s only natural as a fine lady should forget such a crew as us and such an all-fired hole as this.”
This repetition of the offense30 was too much for Taffy, and he lurched on to the speaker and gripped him by the arm.
The always imminent31 row would have commenced at once, but Varley rose and laid his hand on the giant’s huge shoulder.
“drop it, Taffy!” he said in his listless way. “You’re interfering32 with the game—with the game, do you hear?” as if he were charging Taffy with something little short of sacrilege. “Come out of it, and go and get a drink.”
“Jes’ let me lay him fust, Varley,” pleaded Taffy, with almost touching33 meekness34. “There ain’t no one going to say a word agin our Esmeralda while I’m able to stand up for her!”
“You wooden-headed idiot, you can’t stand now!” said Varley. “Here!” And with a twist of his wrist he swung Taffy off his man—who had sat quite still, as if the whole responsibility and further conduct of the affair were in Varley’s hands—and led Taffy to the bar.
“A big soda,” he ordered, and was served immediately, though other men were clamoring. “Now drink that, and sit down there quietly;” and with a dexterous35 push he thrust Taffy into a bottomless chair in a corner, then he sauntered back to the card-table, and the game was resumed.
Suddenly, in the midst of a deal, his hand became motionless, and he looked up listeningly. His ears, quicker than the others—and they were by no means slow—had caught a significant sound.
“What is it, Varley?” asked one of the players.
“A shot,” he said, languidly.
Almost as he spoke, the sound was repeated, and this time was heard by some of the other men who were listening. They sprung to their feet, on the alert in a moment.
“Comes from the east,” said one. “Some o’ them darned Dog’s Ear scum!”
The hubbub36 in the saloon ceased as if at a word of command, and every eye was turned toward the east.
Varley rose and put on his hat, and, as if it were a signal,[269] the others drew their revolvers and moved to the door. Before any one could reach it, it was thrown open, and Bill, the postman, staggered in. He was covered with mud, was bleeding from a wound on the side of his head, and was panting and breathless.
The men rushed to him and collected round him as he sunk on to a chair, mopping his face with the sleeve of his coat, and staring before him with bulging37 eyes.
Varley pushed his way through the circle, and laid a white hand upon the heaving shoulder.
“Been dancing, Bill?” he inquired, languidly. “It’s dangerous at your time of life. Here, some one get him a drink!”
One of the men brought him a “stiff” whisky, and Bill, clutching it, tossed it off, and drew a long breath.
“Didn’t know as I was alive till I tasted it,” he remarked, as coolly as his shortness of breath would permit him. “Don’t offer me another, or I shall take it.”
Another was brought, and he disposed of it, the group waiting with sympathetic patience.
“What’s the shindy, Bill?” asked Varley, as the empty tumbler was taken away from him.
“Oh, only a little affair with some Dog’s Ear gentry,” said the postman, drawing his sleeve across his mouth this time. “I s’pose you thought you was never going to get your letters, eh, boys, seeing as I’m a matter of six hours late? Seems to me as things is coming to a pretty pass when Dog’s Ear takes to makin’ a target of her majesty’s mail.”
The listeners growled.
“Spin it out, Bill!” exhorted38 one.
“It’s this way,” he said, preparing himself for the narration39 by expectorating on the floor and pulling down his coat-cuffs. “I was a-riding up the slope of the Green Bank, when I see a couple o’ men crouching40 behind a tree. There was somethin’ so unornary in their way o’ looking around and fingerin’ their irons that it struck me they weren’t holding a Bible class, and I steered the mare41 behind a bush and took stock of ’em. They couldn’t see me, ’cause I was on the lee o’ the hill. It was evident that they was a-waitin’ for some one, and, as there ain’t any one as passes that way ’cepting myself, I concluded that they was laying for me. I led the mare a matter o’ a quarter of a mile off the track, and tied her up; then I crept round to the clump42 o’ trees where them two was a-waitin’ as innocent as babes, and I heard them talking as plain as you hear me. ‘He’s late,’ says one—that long-legged son of a sweep they calls Simon—‘and I never[270] knowed Bill late afore,’ which was highly complimentary43. ‘No,’ says the other—I don’t know him, but he’s Dog’s Ear, too. ‘Are you sure the swag’s on him?’ ‘Almost certain,’ says Simon. ‘It’s about time for that girl o’ theirs to be sending coin or presents.’”
“Esmeralda!” exclaimed one of the listeners.
“Right, sonny; Esmeralda’s who they meant,” assented44 Bill. “I believe she sends money or jewelry45 pretty nigh every month. See’d that diamond pin Varley wears?”
All eyes turned to the sparkle of fire shining in Varley’s scarf, and Bill nodded again.
“‘He’ll be here presently,’ says Simon. ‘You shoot the mare, as arranged, and fire straight, or she’ll be off, and I’ll cover Bill. He may make a fight of it, for he’s precious proud and fussy46 about that mail-bag o’ his; but I’ll persuade him into reason.’
“‘Oh, will you!’ says I to myself, and, as I didn’t think their conversation elevatin’, I crawls back to where the mare was tied and thinks things over a bit.”
He wet his lips suggestively, and, without a word, one of the men got his glass replenished47.
“Now, boys, there’s a kind of affection ’twixt me and the mare; anyhow, I’m thinking her’s too good for a running target for the scum of Dog’s Ear to shoot at, and so I just leaves her there quiet and contented48, and set off on foot to make a round of it. I’d got a couple of miles when I hears something moving, and there was my two friends lightin’ out on my trail. I lay low and quiet-like for a bit, then went back on my tracks and waited; that dazed ’em a bit, and then I made straight for here on a bee-line, and keeping under cover of the scrub. I’d spent the afternoon at this game, but I thought I’d given ’em the slip, when up rides a third gentleman a’most a top of me. ‘Hold up!’ says he, covering me. I chucked up my hands, but I’d took the precaution to stick a revolver down the back of the collar o’ my coat—it’s a darned bad fit, and there’s room—and I snatched it out and fired without waiting to ask how his mother was. Then, as he tumbled off his gee-gee, I lit out for all I knew, for I heard the other two comin’ round the bend. I’d got in sight o’ this blessed haven49 o’ rest an’ respectability, when one o’ the darned skunks50 fired and peeled a bit off my cocoa-nut. Don’t none o’ you faint,” with a grin—“it ain’t nothin’ to speak of.”
A low growl28 rose.
“And they’ve got the mail,” said one, with an oath
[271]
But the postman turned on him with an angry twinkle in his eyes.
“How’d you guess that, now?” he asked.
“Where’s the bag?”
“Lyin’ beside the mare, you precocious51 infant,” said Bill, showing his teeth. “The bag’s there, but it’s empty; the mail’s here. Jes’ you come and take off my boots, you mutton-headed idiot!”
The man, by no means resentful, obeyed, and the letters came pouring out of Bill’s long boots.
The men cheered and offered to grab them up, but Bill kicked out warningly.
“Thank you, all the same,” he remarked, with an ironical52 smile. “But I guess I’m capable of distributing her majesty’s mail without assistance;” and sweeping53 the letters into a small heap with his huge feet, he dealt them out to their owners with more than his usual solemnity. “And now, boys, I’m thinking I’ll go and fetch the mare. Oh, she’s safe enough; you bet those Dog’s Ear lambs will get back to their kennel54 as fast as they can moozle, now they know that I’ve got to shelter, and that Three Star is posted up in their little game.”
There were plenty of volunteers for the task of recovering the pony55, but Varley remarked languidly that Bill and he were sufficient, and they decided56 to start after Bill had got his wound washed by Mother Melinda, who, as chief nurse in Three Star, was sent for.
While Bill was submitting to the operation as patiently as he could, Varley opened his letters. They were partly on business, partly personal; invitations from various camps to come and open a gambling57 saloon; flowery epistles from members of the fair sex—most of them reproaching him for his long absence and neglect of writing.
The men glanced at him from time to time as he leaned back in his tilted58 chair and read and tore up his letters with languid impassiveness; and Taffy, rousing from a peaceful slumber59, got up and drifted across the room to him, and now quite sober, looked down at him sheepishly.
“Post in, Varley, eh?” he remarked in a low and insinuating60 voice. “Anything interestin’?”
“Nothing particularly so,” said Varley, rolling a cigarette and lighting61 it with the last of his letters, an epistle written in the sentimental62 woman’s hand known as “Italian.”
“Ah!” Taffy drew a long breath of disappointment. “Nothing—nothing from Ralda, I s’pose?” he added in an off-hand way.
[272]
“No,” said Varley.
Taffy, while elaborately filling and lighting his pipe, stole a glance at the clear-cut, impassive face.
“Nothin’ this mail,” he said, as if it were rather satisfactory than otherwise. “Of course not. ’Tain’t to be supposed that Ralda ain’t got nothing else to do than to sit on a cheer writing letters to Three Star, as if she were a blamed clerk in a store, is it?”
Varley nodded.
“An’ yet, somehow,” said Taffy, under his breath, “I shouldn’t a-been sorry if there’d been a line or two this post, so as I could have got the bulge63 on Ed-er-ward. It ’ud a-shown him that Ralda ain’t so mean as to forget old friends, as he and some other mutton-heads may suppose.”
Varley nodded again.
“Make your mind easy, Taff,” he said. “Esmeralda hasn’t forgotten us; but just at present she mayn’t have much time for letter-writing; young ladies who are just married don’t find time hang on their hands much.”
“Jes’ so. You’re right every time, Varley,” assented Taffy, brightening up. “Of course not. She’s cavortin’ around with her new husband, and don’t have time to write; but presently she’ll settle down like and send us a regular long ’un; one o’ them kind that makes us bust64 ourselves a-laughing one minute and want to go for some o’ them fools over there the next. Well, if there ain’t no letter, I’m off home. Not another drop, thank ye, Varley. I know when I’ve had enough,” he concluded, though Varley had not offered him a drink.
Varley smoked on, with his eyes half closed, through the renewed din—for this last piece of audacity65 on the part of Dog’s Ear was being discussed warmly and with an appropriate accompaniment of fiery66 language; but though he looked the embodiment of mental and physical ease, there was an under-current of vague anxiety and disquietude running below his outward placidity67. Esmeralda had not written for the last six weeks; and notwithstanding the reason which he had given to Taffy for her silence, he was disquieted68. She had written, until this break, so regularly, and she had promised to give him a full account of her wedding. He had read a description of it in the Melbourne paper, it is true, but he wanted to read it in her own words, to glean69 between the lines whether she were happy or not.
“I’m a fanciful fool,” he thought. “I want a change of air—a little rough-and-tumble work somewhere; and I’d[273] better get it or I shall be drifting into melancholy70. Happy? Of course she’s happy! Why shouldn’t she be? Married to a man she loves—that’s evident enough; she gives herself away in every letter—and treated like a princess by the family. If they had come the high and haughty71 business and looked down upon her: but they haven’t, so she says. Happy? Yes, that’s it; she’s too happy to write!” He stifled72 a sigh as Bill came across the room with his head tied up in a—comparatively—clean dish-cloth. “Well, William, are you ready?”
“Right away, cap’n,” responded Bill. He turned up his eyes at the bandage apologetically. “Any one ’ud think, by the appearance of me, that I’d lost the whole uv my scalp, instead o’ only havin’ one side o’ my hair cut; but don’t let on about it now.” He jerked his head toward Mother Melinda, who, with her arms akimbo, was watching him with a surgeon’s pride. “I’ll wait till I get outside ’fore I takes the blamed thing off. It wouldn’t do to hurt her feelin’s, Varley; she’s as proud of it as if she’d took a leg off me.”
The two men filled up their revolvers and went out quietly. There was no particular peril73 in the business; the mare, with the intelligence acquired in several similar situations, would remain quiet until her master came for her, and the Dog’s Ear men, knowing that Three Star was on the alert, would stop in their camp for that night at least; but Varley and Bill kept a sharp lookout74 notwithstanding. They went along in silence for some time, then Bill said, quietly:
“Varley, I didn’t let on before the boys to all I heard them Dog’s Ear chaps talking. You see, some of our boys are a bit young-heady, and ’ud a-opened their mouths too wide, and perhaps spoiled the game.”
“Your wisdom is always supernal75, William,” said Varley, absently. “What is it? Is Dog’s Ear going to attack the Melbourne Bank?”
“No,” said Bill, quietly; “but they’re going to ‘put up’ the coach to-morrow.”
For all his nonchalance76 and sang-froid, Varley was rather startled.
“That’s rather high and lofty tumbling for Dog’s Ear,” he remarked. “Sure?”
“Sartin,” said Bill, succinctly77. “Them two vermin was a-talking about it. A gang of their best men is to lie in the hollow at the Gulch78 and surround the coach. It ’pears that they’ve had news that some Melbourne gents is a-coming, along, and they calkilate that there’ll be some coin aboard, likewise[274] watches and other gim-cracks, and that the coach will be worth overhauling79.”
Varley pondered over this choice piece of information.
“How many?” he asked at last.
“Can’t say,” replied Bill. “I calkilate they wouldn’t take more than they could help; the fewer the better in jobs o’ this kind, you see.”
“Half a dozen, perhaps,” said Varley, meditatively80. “What time does the coach pass the Gulch?”
“Nine fifteen.”
“Ah, dark!”
“Yes, dark,” said Bill, nodding. “They could put up the old thing and clean it out, and ride off without a blessed soul knowin’ who did it.”
“They could have done so, yes,” said Varley. “Dog’s Ear is growing clever. But I suppose it is off now? They know you heard them?”
“Not they,” said Bill. “They never knew I was near them when they was talkin’. No, you bet the game is on still, Varley, and you an’ me is going to take a hand, eh, pard?” and he grinned and rubbed his smarting head with that anticipation81 which we are told is the keenest joy.
“Yes. You were right to keep your mouth shut in the saloon,” said Varley; “and, as you say, we will take a hand in it. It’s no business of Three Star to provide a police force for the protection of the Ballarat Coaching Company’s old Noah’s ark, but we’ll do it this once, just to spoil Dog’s Ear’s fun. Where’s this said mare, William?”
They found the mare patiently awaiting them, and Bill, after bestowing82 a few words of praise, which the animal understood and appreciated most perfectly83, insisted upon Varley’s getting into the saddle. As they rode back to the camp, Varley concocted84 and matured a plan of operation. No one would have guessed that anything serious was in the wind, as the two men sauntered up to the bar of the Eldorado, and with a “Mare’s all right!” called for a drink. Nor had any one any inkling of the expedition even, when, at six o’clock the next evening, Varley, stretching himself and yawning, got up from the table and sauntered into the open air, where, at a little distance, Bill and five other men were already in the saddle, with Varley’s fast mare in their midst.
“Ready, boys?” he said, as he mounted.
“We’re on, Varley!” responded Bill, briefly85. “Here’s the boys accordin’ to orders; but they don’t know what game’s afoot.”
[275]
Varley nodded.
“Dog’s Ear is going to ‘put up’ the coach at the Gulch,” he said. “Don’t shout and don’t laugh,” for, after a moment of incredulous astonishment86, some of them opened their mouths as if to greet the statement with a contemptuous guffaw87. “It’s a fact; William overheard those two fellows yesterday. See? Right! Now, boys, for the plan of attack. You, Taffy, and MacGrath will ride round the bend and get behind the clump of trees on the left side of the road. Go right round, and keep a sharp lookout. Benson and Karl will keep a quarter of a mile this side, and wait in the hollow; Bill and I will hide ourselves on the other side of the Gulch. If all goes well, and Dog’s Ear doesn’t smell a rat, they’ll drop on the coach as it passes over the bridge. It will take them a minute or two to put up the coach, and we’ll wait until they’re engaged in the business, and drop on them. Wait till you hear me fire, and then ride in. Got it?”
“We hev,” responded Taffy, emphatically.
“Then, so long,” said Varley, laconically88; and the men, with their mouths set grimly, rode quietly away.
“It’s a’most too many for the business, I’m thinking, Varley,” said Bill; but Varley shook his head.
“I know Dog’s Ear, William; there will be more than six in this affair.”
They separated at the bed of the river and rode openly in the direction opposite to that of the coach road, as if they were simply out for a gallop89. They, at any rate, reached their appointed place without, so far as they could tell, being seen, and well hidden by the darkness under the trees and the thick scrub, waited for the coach.
Presently they heard the muffled90 tramp of horses’ hoofs91 on the short turf, and Bill, crouching in his saddle—quite unnecessarily—whispered, “Dog’s Ear.”
Varley nodded, and a faint smile played about his lips. The men they were going to checkmate were within a few yards of them, divided from them only by the road that spanned the Gulch. They could hear a voice, husky and low, giving orders, a few muttered responses, then all was still again.
“How many?” asked Varley, with his mouth almost at Bill’s ear.
Bill shook his head doubtfully.
“Almost a dozen,” he said.
Varley nodded; it confirmed his own estimate. Then both men sat motionless, straining their ears for the sound of the[276] coming coach. Presently Varley moved slightly, and stretching out his hand in the darkness, touched Bill’s arm, and a moment or two afterward92 the latter heard the rhythmical93 beat of the horses’ feet, and yet a little later the dull roll of the wheels.
There was an instant or two of suspense94, interrupted by the musical notes of the guard’s horn, then out from the darkness there grew two specks95 of light from the lamps; the rhythmical beat struck sharper, the roll of the wheels deepened, and suddenly the coach loomed96 through the night and the leaders rattled97 on to the bridge.
This was evidently the signal for the Dog’s Ear attack; for, as the metal of the horses’ shoes rang upon the timber, there was a rush from the Gulch beneath, and a body of horsemen surrounded the coach, while one man, mounted on an appropriately black horse, rode up alongside the coachman and covered him.
“Chuck up your hands, Johnson, and get down!” he said, curtly98. “Come down now, like a good boy, and don’t alarm the passengers.”
The driver peered into the darkness and swore, voices from the top of the coach called out inquiringly and excitedly, then a deep silence followed.
“Persuade him to come down quickly, gentlemen,” said the leader of the gang. “We don’t want any fire-works, but—we mean business. It’s our show, you see, and it’s no use making a fuss.”
Two or three men scrambled99 down and were instantly surrounded, but the coachman did not move for a minute; then he turned to some one on the seat behind him and said something.
“Are you coming, or not?” demanded the ringleader, impatiently, and he significantly imitated the click of a trigger with his lips.
Johnson looked down.
“Yes; it’s your show,” he said, coolly. “If I’d only a-known jes’ a quarter of a mile back—but that’s neither here nor there. I’m coming. Save your powder!”
Even then he did not hurry, but took off his thick gloves with a deliberation which must have exasperated100 the man below. Then he climbed down with unnecessary caution, and stood with his hands in his pockets, the revolver still covering him. Two of the gang were at the leaders’ bridles101, the others were busy “emptying” the three passengers, and all was going merrily and to the entire satisfaction of Dog’s Ear,[277] when Varley, firing just over the commander’s head, plunged102 up the other side of the Gulch and rode down upon him.
The startled man swore and tried to swing his horse aside, but Varley was on him with an impetus103 too swift and irresistible104, and coolly knocked him out of his saddle as the man fired.
Instantly the place, wrapped a moment before in the solemn calm of an Australian night, was transformed into a miniature pandemonium105. Shots, yells, oaths, the crack of revolvers, and the dull “ping” of the bullets, mingled106 with the stamping of the rearing horses.
The driver, startled for a moment, soon took in the turn of events, and snatching out his revolver, shot one of the men stationed at the leaders’ heads, and rushed for his companion, who turned and fled.
The darkness increased the confusion—it was difficult to distinguish friend from foe—and Varley was just in time to stop the driver from sending a bullet through him by shouting out:
“All right, Johnson! It’s I—Varley! Keep to the horses; we’ll manage the rest.”
As he spoke, his low, clear voice ringing out, a cry rose from the top of the coach. It was a woman’s voice, and the cry a strange mixture of fear and joy.
Something in it made Varley’s heart jump as it had not hitherto leaped that night. He reined107 in his plunging108 horse for a moment.
“God! I must be dreaming!” he muttered.
Then he dashed forward, and snatching one of the huge coach-lamps from its socket109, held it above his head and peered up in the darkness.
The light flickered110 in his grasp as he swayed to his horse’s movements, but as its rays swept across the top of the coach, he saw a woman kneeling on one of the seats, her face, pale but fearless, bent111 down toward him.
It was Esmeralda—or her ghost!
He gasped112, and held the lamp higher.
“Esmeralda!” he shouted, his voice thick and husky. “Esmeralda, is that—”
“Yes, yes, yes! It’s I—Esmeralda! Varley! Varley!” she cried, holding out her arms to him.
In the excitement of recognition they appeared to have quite forgotten what was going on around them, and Varley was completely ignoring the fact that the lamp was revealing him to his foes113 and making a splendid mark for them.
One of the Dog’s Ear men rode round, stared, swore, and raised his revolver, and Varley would have paid the penalty for his fool-hardiness there and then, but with a cry of warning Esmeralda bent down and snatched the lamp from Varley’s hand and dashed it into the face of his assailant. The next instant all was darkness, for one of the Dog’s Ear men had smashed the other lantern with a bullet.
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impartiality
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| n. 公平, 无私, 不偏 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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mighty
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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brawling
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sullen
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champagne
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deftly
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gracefully
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shuffling
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blandness
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dispensed
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infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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15
billiards
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| n.台球 | |
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16
bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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17
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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18
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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19
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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20
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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21
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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22
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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23
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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24
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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25
maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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26
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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27
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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28
growl
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| v.（狗等）嗥叫，（炮等）轰鸣；n.嗥叫，轰鸣 | |
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29
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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30
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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31
imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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32
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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33
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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34
meekness
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| n.温顺，柔和 | |
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35
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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36
hubbub
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| n.嘈杂；骚乱 | |
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37
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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38
exhorted
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| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
narration
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| n.讲述，叙述；故事；记叙体 | |
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40
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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41
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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42
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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43
complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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44
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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46
fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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47
replenished
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| 补充( replenish的过去式和过去分词 )； 重新装满 | |
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48
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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49
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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50
skunks
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| n.臭鼬( skunk的名词复数 )；臭鼬毛皮；卑鄙的人；可恶的人 | |
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51
precocious
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| adj.早熟的；较早显出的 | |
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52
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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53
sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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54
kennel
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| n.狗舍，狗窝 | |
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55
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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56
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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57
gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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58
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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59
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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60
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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61
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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62
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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63
bulge
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| n.突出，膨胀，激增；vt.突出，膨胀 | |
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64
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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65
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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66
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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67
placidity
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| n.平静，安静，温和 | |
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68
disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
glean
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| v.收集(消息、资料、情报等) | |
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70
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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71
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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72
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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73
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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74
lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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75
supernal
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| adj.天堂的，天上的；崇高的 | |
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76
nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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77
succinctly
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| adv.简洁地；简洁地，简便地 | |
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78
gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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79
overhauling
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| n.大修；拆修；卸修；翻修v.彻底检查( overhaul的现在分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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80
meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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81
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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82
bestowing
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| 砖窑中砖堆上层已烧透的砖 | |
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83
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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84
concocted
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| v.将（尤指通常不相配合的）成分混合成某物( concoct的过去式和过去分词 )；调制；编造；捏造 | |
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85
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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86
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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87
guffaw
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| n.哄笑；突然的大笑 | |
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88
laconically
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| adv.简短地，简洁地 | |
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89
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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90
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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91
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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92
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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93
rhythmical
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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94
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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95
specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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96
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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97
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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98
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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99
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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100
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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101
bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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102
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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103
impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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104
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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105
pandemonium
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| n.喧嚣，大混乱 | |
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106
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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107
reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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108
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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109
socket
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| n.窝，穴，孔，插座，插口 | |
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110
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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111
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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112
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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113
foes
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| 敌人，仇敌( foe的名词复数 ) | |
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