In Which Regrets Are Shown Of Little Worth
THE reader may remember, that we, in the early part of our narrative1, made some slight mention of the Rovero family, of which Franconia and Lorenzo were the only surviving children. They, too, had been distinguished2 as belonging to a class of opulent planters; but, having been reduced to poverty by the same nefarious3 process through which we have traced Marston's decline, and which we shall more fully4 disclose in the sequel, had gathered together the remnants of a once extensive property, and with the proceeds migrated to a western province of Mexico, where, for many years, though not with much success, Rovero pursued a mining speculation5. They lived in a humble6 manner; Mrs. Rovero, Marston's sister-and of whom we have a type in the character of her daughter, Franconia-discarded all unnecessary appurtenances of living, and looked forward to the time when they would be enabled to retrieve7 their fortunes and return to their native district to spend the future of their days on the old homestead. More than four years, however, had passed since any tidings had been received of them by Franconia; and it was strongly surmised9 that they had fallen victims to the savage10 incursions of marauding parties, who were at that time devastating11 the country, and scattering12 its defenceless inhabitants homeless over the western shores of central America. So strong had this impression found place in Franconia's mind that she had given up all hopes of again meeting them. As for M'Carstrow's friends, they had never taken any interest in her welfare, viewing her marriage with the distinguished colonel as a mere13 catch on the part of her parents, whose only motive14 was to secure themselves the protection of a name, and, perhaps, the means of sustaining themselves above the rank disclosure of their real poverty. To keep "above board" is everything in the south; and the family not distinguished soon finds itself well nigh extinguished. Hence that ever tenacious15 clinging to pretensions16, sounding of important names, and maintenance of absurd fallacies,--all having for their end the drawing a curtain over that real state of poverty there existing. Indeed, it was no secret that even the M'Carstrow family (counting itself among the very few really distinguished families of the state, and notorious for the contempt in which they affected17 to hold all common people), had mortgaged their plantation18 and all its negroes for much more than their worth in ordinary times. As for tradesmen's bills, there were any quantity outstanding, without the shadow of a prospect19 of their being paid, notwithstanding importuners had frequently intimated that a place called the gaol20 was not far distant, and that the squire's office was within a stone's throw of "the corner." Colonel M'Carstrow, reports say, had some years ago got a deal of money by an unexplainable hocus pocus, but it was well nigh gone in gambling21, and now he was keeping brothel society and rioting away his life faster than the race-horses he had formerly22 kept on the course could run.
Hospitality hides itself when friends are needy23; and it will be seen here that Franconia had few friends-we mean friends in need. The Rosebrook family formed an exception. The good deacon, and his ever generous lady, had remained Franconia's firmest friends; but so large and complicated were the demands against Marston, and so gross the charges of dishonour--suspicion said he fraudulently made over his property to Graspum-that they dared not interpose for his relief; nor would Marston himself have permitted it. The question now was, what was to be done with the dead body?
We left Franconia bathing its face, and smoothing the hair across its temples with her hand. She cannot bury the body from her own home:--no! M'Carstow will not permit that. She cannot consign25 it to the commissioners26 for the better regulation of the "poor house,"-her feelings repulse27 the thought. One thought lightens her cares; she will straightway proceed to Mrs. Rosebrook's villa28,--she will herself be the bearer of the mournful intelligence; while Harry29 will watch over the remains30 of the departed, until Daddy, who must be her guide through the city, shall return. "I will go to prepare the next resting-place for uncle," says Franconia, as if nerving herself to carry out the resolution.
"With your permission, missus," returns Harry, touching31 her on the arm, and pointing through the grated window into the gloomy yard. "Years since-before I passed through a tribulation32 worse than death-when we were going to be sold in the market, I called my brothers and sisters of the plantation together, and in that yard invoked33 heaven to be merciful to its fallen. I was sold on that day; but heaven has been merciful to me; heaven has guided me through many weary pilgrimages, and brought me here to-night; and its protecting hand will yet restore me my wife and little ones. Let us pray to-night; let us be grateful to Him who seeth the fallen in his tribulation, but prepareth a place for him in a better world. Let us pray and hope," he continued: and they knelt at the side of the humble cot on which lay the departed, while he devoutly35 and fervently36 invoked the Giver of all Good to forgive the oppressor, to guide the oppressed, to make man feel there is a world beyond this, to strengthen the resolution of that fair one who is thus sorely afflicted38, to give the old man who weeps at the feet of the departed new hope for the world to come,--and to receive that warm spirit which has just left the cold body into his realms of bliss39.
What of roughness there was in his manner is softened40 by simplicity42 and truthfulness43. The roughest lips may breathe the purest prayer. At the conclusion, Franconia and Daddy leave for Mrs. Rosebrook's villa, while Harry, remaining to watch over the remains, draws his chair to the stand, and reads by the murky44 light.
"I won't be long; take care of old mas'r," says Daddy, as he leaves the cell, solicitously45 looking back into the cavern-like place.
It is past ten when they reach the house of Mrs. Rosebrook, the inmates46 of which have retired47, and are sleeping. Everything is quiet in and about the enclosure; the luxuriant foliage49 bespreading a lawn extending far away to the westward50, seems refreshing51 itself with dew that sparkles beneath the starlight heavens, now arched like a crystal mist hung with diamond lights. The distant watchdog's bark re-echoes faintly over the broad lagoon52, to the east; a cricket's chirrup sounds beneath the woodbine arbour; a moody53 guardsman, mounted on his lean steed, and armed for danger, paces his slow way along: he it is that breaks the stillness while guarding the fears of a watchful54 community, who know liberty, but crush with steel the love thereof.
A rap soon brings to the door the trim figure of a mulatto servant. He conveys the name of the visitor to his "missus," who, surprised at the untimely hour Franconia seeks her, loses no time in reaching the ante-room, into which she has been conducted.
Daddy has taken his seat in the hall, and recognises "missus" as she approaches; but as she puts out her hand to salute55 him, she recognises trouble seated on his countenance56. "Young missus in da'h," he says, pointing to the ante-room while rubbing his eyes.
"But you must tell me what trouble has befallen you," she returns, as quickly, in her dishabille, she drops his hand and starts back.
"Missus know 'um all,--missus da'h." Again he points, and she hastens into the ante-room, when, grasping Franconia by the hand, she stares at her with breathless anxiety expressed in her face. A pause ensues in which both seem bewildered. At length Franconia breaks the silence. "Uncle is gone!" she exclaims, following the words with a flow of tears.
"Gone!" reiterates57 the generous-hearted woman, encircling Franconia's neck with her left arm, and drawing her fondly to her bosom58.
"Yes,--dead!" she continues, sobbing59 audibly. There is something touching in the words,--something which recalls the dearest associations of the past, and touches the fountains of the heart. It is the soft tone in which they are uttered,--it gives new life to old images. So forcibly are they called up, that the good woman has no power to resist her violent emotions: gently she guides Franconia to the sofa, seats her upon its soft cushion, and attempts to console her wrecked60 spirit.
The men-servants are called up,--told to be prepared for orders. One of them recognises Daddy, and, inviting61 him into the pantry, would give him food, Trouble has wasted the old man's appetite; he thinks of master, but has no will to eat. No; he will see missus, and proceed back to the prison, there join Harry, and watch over all that is mortal of master. He thanks Abraham for what he gave him, declines the coat he would kindly62 lend him to keep out the chill, seeks the presence of his mistress (she has become more reconciled), says, "God bless 'um!" bids her good night, and sallies forth63.
Mrs. Rosebrook listens to the recital64 of the melancholy65 scene with astonishment66 and awe67. "How death grapples for us!" she exclaims, her soft, soul-beaming eyes glaring with surprise. "How it cuts its way with edge unseen. Be calm, be calm, Franconia; you have nobly done your part,--nobly! Whatever the pecuniary68 misfortunes,--whatever the secret cause of his downfall, you have played the woman to the very end. You have illustrated69 the purest of true affection; would it had repaid you better. Before daylight-negroes are, in consequence of their superstition70, unwilling71 to remove the dead at midnight-I will have the body removed here,--buried from my house." The good woman did not disclose to Franconia that her husband was from home, making an effort to purchase Harry's wife and children from their present owner. But she will do all she can,--the best can do no more.
At the gaol a different scene is presented. Harry, alone with the dead man, waits Daddy's return. Each tap of the bell awakes a new hope, soon to be disappointed. The clock strikes eleven: no Daddy returns. The gates are shut: Harry must wile72 away the night, in this tomb-like abode73, with the dead. What stillness pervades74 the cell; how mournfully calm in death sleeps the departed! The watcher has read himself to sleep; his taper75, like life on its way, has nearly shed out its pale light; the hot breath of summer breathes balmy through the lattice bars; mosquitoes sing their torturous76 tunes8 while seeking for the dead man's blood; lizards77, with diamond eyes, crawl upon the wall, waiting their ration78: but death, less inexorable than creditors79, sits pale king over all. The palace and the cell are alike to him; the sharp edge of his unseen sword spares neither the king in his purple robe, nor the starving beggar who seeks a crust at his palace gate,--of all places the worst.
As morning dawns, and soft fleeting80 clouds tinge81 the heavens with light, four negroes may be seen sitting at the prison gate, a litter by their side, now and then casting silent glances upward, as if contemplating82 the sombre wall that frowns above their heads, enclosing the prison. The guard, armed to the teeth, have passed and repassed them, challenged and received their answer, and as often examined their passes. They-the negroes-have come for a dead man. Guardmen get no fees of dead men,--the law has no more demands to serve: they wish the boys much joy with their booty, and pass on.
Six o'clock arrives; the first bell rings; locks, bolts, and bars clank in ungrateful medley83; rumbling84 voices are heard within the hollow-sounding aisles86; whispers from above chime ominously87 with the dull shuffle88 rumbling from below. "Seven more cases,--how it rages!" grumbles89 a monotonous90 voice, and the gate opens at the warden91's touch. "Who's here?" he demands, with stern countenance unchanged, as he shrugs92 his formidable shoulders. "I see, (he continues, quickly), you have come for the dead debtor93. Glad of it, my good fellow; this is the place to make dead men of debtors94. Brought an order, I s'pose?" Saying "follow me," he turns about, hastens to the vestibule, receives the order from the hand of Duncan, the chief negro, reads it with grave attention, supposes it is all straight, and is about to show him the cell where the body lays, and which he is only too glad to release. "Hold a moment!" Mr. Winterflint--such is his name--says. Heaven knows he wants to get rid of the dead debtor; but the laws are so curious, creditors are so obdurate95, and sheriffs have such a crooked96 way of doing straight things, that he is in the very bad position of not knowing what to do. Some document from the sheriff may be necessary; perhaps the creditors must agree to the compromise. He forgets that inexorable Death, as he is vulgarly styled, has forced a compromise: creditors must now credit "by decease." Upon this point, however, he must be satisfied by his superior. He now wishes Mr. Brien Moon would evince more exactness in holding inquests, and less anxiety for the fees. Mr. Winterflint depends not on his own decisions, where the laws relating to debtors are so absurdly mystical. "Rest here, boy," he says; "I won't be a minute or two,--must do the thing straight." He seeks the presence of that extremely high functionary97, the gaoler (high indeed wherever slavery rules), who, having weighed the points with great legal impartiality98, gives it as his most distinguished opinion that no order of release from the high sheriff is requisite99 to satisfy the creditors of his death: take care of the order sent, and make a note of the niggers who take him away, concludes that highly important gentleman, as comfortably his head reclines on soft pillow. To this end was Mr. Moon's certificate essential.
Mr. Winterflint returns; enquires100 who owns the boys.
"Mas'r Rosebrook's niggers," Duncan replies, firmly; "but Missus send da order."
"Sure of that, now? Good niggers them of Rosebrook's: wouldn't a' gin it to nobody else's niggers. Follow me-zist, zist!" he says, crooking101 his finger at the other three, and scowling102, as Duncan relieves their timidity by advancing. They move slowly and noiselessly up the aisle85, the humid atmosphere of which, pregnant with death, sickens as it steals into the very blood. "In there-zist! make no noise; the dead debtor lies there," whispers the warden, laying his left hand upon Duncan's shoulder, and, the forefinger103 of his right extended, pointing toward the last cell on the left. "Door's open; not locked, I meant. Left it unsecured last night. Rap afore ye go in, though." At the methodical warden's bidding Duncan proceeds, his foot falling lightly on the floor. Reaching the door, he places his right hand on the swinging bolt, and for a few seconds seems listening. He hears the muffled104 sound of a footfall pacing the floor, and then a muttering as of voices in secret communion, or dying echoes from the tomb. He has not mistaken the cell; its crevices105 give forth odours pergnant of proof. Two successive raps bring Harry to the door: they are admitted to the presence of the dead. One by one Harry receives them by the hand, but he must needs be told why Daddy is not with them. They know not. He ate a morsel106, and left late last night, says one of the negroes. Harry is astonished at this singular intelligence: Daddy Bob never before was known to commit an act of unfaithfulness; he was true to Marston in life,--strange that he should desert him in death. "Mas'r's death-bed wasn't much at last," says Duncan, as they gather round the cot, and, with curious faces, mingle107 their more curious remarks. Harry draws back the white handkerchief which Franconia had spread over the face of the corpse108, as the negroes start back affrighted. As of nervous contortion109, the ghastly face presents an awful picture. Swollen110, discoloured, and contracted, no one outline of that once cheerful countenance can be traced. "Don't look much like Mas'r Marston used to look; times must a' changed mightily111 since he used to look so happy at home," mutters Duncan, shaking his head, and telling the others not to be "fear'd; dead men can't hurt nobody."
"Died penniless;--but e' war good on e' own plantation," rejoins another. "One ting be sartin 'bout48 nigger-he know how he die wen 'e time cum; Mas'r don know how 'e gwine to die!"
Having seen enough of the melancholy finale, they spread the litter in the aisle, as the warden enters the cell to facilitate the dead debtor's exit. Harry again covers the face, and prepares to roll the body in a coverlit brought by Duncan. "I kind of liked him-he was so gentlemanly-has been with us so long, and did'nt seem like a prisoner. He was very quiet, and always civil when spoken to," interposes the warden, as, assisting the second shrouding112, he presses the hand of the corpse in his own.
Now he is ready; they place his cold body on the litter; a few listless prisoners stand their sickly figures along the passage, watch him slowly borne to the iron gate in the arched vault113. Death-less inexorable than creditors-has signed his release, thrown back prison bolts and bars, wrested114 him from the grasp of human laws, and now mocks at creditors, annuls115 fi fas, bids the dead debtor make his exit. Death pays no gaol fees; it makes that bequest116 to creditors; but it reserves the keys of heaven for another purpose. "One ration less," says the warden, who, closing the grated door, casts a lingering look after the humble procession, bearing away the remains of our departed.
With Harry as the only follower117, they proceed along, through suburban118 streets, and soon reach the house of that generous woman. A minister of the gospel awaits his coming; the good man's words are consoling, but he cannot remodel119 the past for the advantage of the dead. Soon the body is placed in a "ready-made coffin," and the good man offers up the last funeral rites120; he can do no more than invoke34 the great protector to receive the departed into his bosom.
"How the troubles of this world rise up before me! Oh! uncle! uncle! how I could part with the world and bury my troubles in the same grave!" exclaims Franconia, as, the ceremony having ended, they bear the body away to its last resting-place; and, in a paroxysm of grief, she shrieks121 and falls swooning to the floor.
In a neatly122 inclosed plat, a short distance from the Rosebrook Villa, and near the bank of a meandering123 rivulet124, overhung with mourning willows125 and clustering vines, they lay him to rest. The world gave the fallen man nothing but a prison-cell wherein to stretch his dying body; a woman gives him a sequestered126 grave, and nature spreads it with her loveliest offering. It is the last resting-place of the Rosebrook family, which their negroes, partaking of that contentment so characteristic of the family, have planted with flowers they nurture127 with tenderest care. There is something touching in the calm beauty of the spot; something breathing of rural contentment. It is something to be buried in a pretty grave-to be mourned by a slave-to be loved by the untutored. How abject128 the slave, and yet how true his affection! how dear his requiem129 over a departed friend! "God bless master-receive his spirit!" is heard mingling130 with the music of the gentle breeze, as Harry, sitting at the head of the grave, looks upward to heaven, while earth covers from sight the mortal relics131 of a once kind master.
It has been a day of sadness at the villa-a day of mourning and tribulation. How different the scene in the city! There, men whisper strange regrets. Sympathy is let loose, and is expanding itself to an unusual degree. Who was there that did not know Marston's generous, gushing132 soul! Who was there that would not have stretched forth the helping133 hand, had they known his truly abject condition! Who that was not, and had not been twenty times, on the very brink134 of wresting135 him from the useless tyranny of his obdurate creditors! Who that had not waited from day to day, with purse-strings open, ready to pour forth the unmistakeable tokens of friendship! How many were only restrained from doing good-from giving vent37 to the fountains of their hospitality-through fear of being contaminated with that scandal rumour136 had thrown around his decline! Over his death hath sprung to life that curious fabric137 of living generosity138, so ready to bespread a grave with unneeded bounties,--so emblematic139 of how many false mourners hath the dead. But Graspum would have all such expressions shrink beneath his glowing goodness. With honied words he tells the tale of his own honesty: his business intercourse140 with the deceased was in character most generous. Many a good turn did Marston receive at his hands; long had he been his faithful and unwearied friend. Fierce are the words with which he would execrate141 the tyrant142 creditors; yea, he would heap condign143 punishment on their obdurate heads. Time after time did he tell them the fallen man was penniless; how strange, then, that they tortured him to death within prison walls. He would sweep away such vengeance144, bury it with his curses, and make obsolete145 such laws as give one man power to gratify his passion on another. His burning, surging anger can find no relief; nor can he tolerate such antiquated146 debtor laws: to him they are the very essence of barbarism, tainting147 that enlightened civilisation148 so long implanted by the State, so well maintained by the people. It is on those ennobling virtues149 of state, he says, the cherished doctrines150 of our democracy are founded. Graspum is, indeed, a well-developed type of our modern democracy, the flimsy fabric of which is well represented in the gasconade of the above outpouring philanthropy.
And now, as again the crimson151 clouds of evening soften41 into golden hues-as the sun, like a fiery152 chariot, sinks beneath the western landscape, and still night spreads her shadowy mantle153 down the distant hills, and over the broad lagoon to the north-two sable154 figures may be seen patting, sodding, and bespreading with fresh-plucked flowers the new grave. As the rippling155 brook24 gives out its silvery music, and earth seems drinking of the misty156 dew, that, like a bridal veil, spreads over its verdant157 hillocks, they whisper their requiem of regret, and mould the grave so carefully. "It's mas'r's last," says one, smoothing the cone158 with his hands.
"We will plant the tree now," returns the other, bringing forward a young clustering pine, which he places at the head of the grave, and on which he cuts the significant epitaph-"Good master lies here!"
Duncan and Harry have paid their last tribute. "He is at peace with this world," says the latter, as, at the gate, he turns to take a last look over the paling.
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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nefarious
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| adj.恶毒的，极坏的 | |
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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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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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retrieve
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| vt.重新得到，收回；挽回，补救；检索 | |
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tunes
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| n.曲调，曲子( tune的名词复数 )v.调音( tune的第三人称单数 )；调整；（给收音机、电视等）调谐；使协调 | |
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surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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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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devastating
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| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
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scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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tenacious
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| adj.顽强的，固执的，记忆力强的，粘的 | |
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pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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needy
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
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brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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consign
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| vt.寄售（货品），托运，交托，委托 | |
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commissioners
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| n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 )；长官；委员；政府部门的长官 | |
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repulse
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| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
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villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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invoked
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| v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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invoke
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| v.求助于(神、法律)；恳求，乞求 | |
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devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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43
truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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44
murky
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| adj.黑暗的，朦胧的；adv.阴暗地，混浊地；n.阴暗；昏暗 | |
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45
solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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46
inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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47
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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48
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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49
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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50
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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51
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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52
lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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53
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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54
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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55
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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56
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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57
reiterates
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| 反复地说，重申( reiterate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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58
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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59
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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60
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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61
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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62
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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63
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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64
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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65
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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66
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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67
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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68
pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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69
illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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70
superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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71
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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72
wile
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| v.诡计，引诱；n.欺骗，欺诈 | |
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73
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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74
pervades
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75
taper
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| n.小蜡烛，尖细，渐弱；adj.尖细的；v.逐渐变小 | |
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76
torturous
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| adj. 痛苦的 | |
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77
lizards
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| n.蜥蜴( lizard的名词复数 ) | |
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78
ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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79
creditors
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| n.债权人，债主( creditor的名词复数 ) | |
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80
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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81
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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82
contemplating
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| 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 | |
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83
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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84
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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85
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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86
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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87
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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88
shuffle
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| n.拖著脚走，洗纸牌；v.拖曳，慢吞吞地走 | |
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89
grumbles
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| 抱怨( grumble的第三人称单数 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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90
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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91
warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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92
shrugs
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| n.耸肩（以表示冷淡，怀疑等）( shrug的名词复数 ) | |
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93
debtor
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| n.借方，债务人 | |
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94
debtors
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| n.债务人，借方( debtor的名词复数 ) | |
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95
obdurate
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| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
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96
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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97
functionary
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| n.官员；公职人员 | |
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98
impartiality
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| n. 公平, 无私, 不偏 | |
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99
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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100
enquires
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| 打听( enquire的第三人称单数 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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101
crooking
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| n.弯曲（木材等的缺陷）v.弯成钩形( crook的现在分词 ) | |
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102
scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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103
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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104
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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105
crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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106
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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107
mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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108
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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109
contortion
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| n.扭弯，扭歪，曲解 | |
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110
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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111
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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112
shrouding
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| n.覆盖v.隐瞒( shroud的现在分词 )；保密 | |
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113
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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114
wrested
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| （用力）拧( wrest的过去式和过去分词 )； 费力取得； （从…）攫取； （ 从… ） 强行取去… | |
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115
annuls
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| v.宣告无效( annul的第三人称单数 )；取消；使消失；抹去 | |
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116
bequest
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| n.遗赠；遗产，遗物 | |
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117
follower
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| n.跟随者；随员；门徒；信徒 | |
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118
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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119
remodel
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| v.改造，改型，改变 | |
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120
rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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121
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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122
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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123
meandering
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| 蜿蜒的河流，漫步，聊天 | |
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124
rivulet
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| n.小溪，小河 | |
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125
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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126
sequestered
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| adj.扣押的；隐退的；幽静的；偏僻的v.使隔绝，使隔离( sequester的过去式和过去分词 )；扣押 | |
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127
nurture
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| n.养育，照顾，教育；滋养，营养品；vt.养育，给与营养物，教养，扶持 | |
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128
abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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129
requiem
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| n.安魂曲，安灵曲 | |
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130
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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131
relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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132
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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133
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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134
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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135
wresting
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| 动词wrest的现在进行式 | |
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136
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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137
fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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138
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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139
emblematic
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| adj.象征的，可当标志的；象征性 | |
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140
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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141
execrate
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| v.憎恶；厌恶；诅咒 | |
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142
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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143
condign
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| adj.应得的，相当的 | |
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144
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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145
obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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146
antiquated
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| adj.陈旧的，过时的 | |
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147
tainting
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| v.使变质( taint的现在分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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148
civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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149
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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150
doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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151
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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152
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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153
mantle
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| n.斗篷，覆罩之物，罩子；v.罩住，覆盖，脸红 | |
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154
sable
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| n.黑貂；adj.黑色的 | |
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155
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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156
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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157
verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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158
cone
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| n.圆锥体，圆锥形东西，球果 | |
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