My guard was about to strip off my shirt, when Dr. Cuthbert interposed. "One moment." They stepped back, and he addressed me: "Dr. Robinson, I have never known a man possessed7 of a finer physique than yours. On the other hand, none can say beforetime what any man can endure unless he has been tested. You may succumb8 to this punishment."
I looked at him a long moment, and for my lady's sake, found power to beg a favor of this most insistently9 kind enemy.
"Dr. Cuthbert," I replied, "may I ask you to remove the rosary from about my neck?" He did so. "Sir, I now request you to guard my treasure. If I survive this shame, restore it to me. If I succumb, I trust you as a gentleman and a brother physician to give the cross into the hands of Señorita Alisanda Vallois, with the simple statement that I died in your care."
"Señorita Vallois?—You know her?" he exclaimed.
"Yes; but in God's name, doctor, do not tell her of my shame!"
"Dr. Cuthbert!" interposed the officer in charge.
The doctor stepped away, and my guard and executioner seized me fast. With the deftness10 of sailors, they removed my handcuffs, stripped me to the waist, and triced me up by the wrists to the foremast.
"Ready!" called the officer. "One!"
Down came the lash11 upon my bare back. But the sting of its thongs12 was as nothing to the sting of shame which pierced my heart. Death would have been far less bitter than this disgrace!
The count went on. Stroke after stroke slashed13 across my back and shoulders as heavily as my imbruted executioner could strike. Soon the blood began to ooze14, then trickle15, then stream down. By the fiftieth stroke I should judge that my back was a mass of raw flesh. Yet the count continued, the strokes fell without ceasing, mercilessly.
Coming as I did from a people bred to endure the utmost torture of the Indian savage16, I found no difficulty in restraining any outcry under this equally fiendish torture of so-called Christians17. But as the little surgeon had said, no man can foresee the limits of endurance. At the seventy-third stroke I swooned. They did not cut me down, but let me hang by the wrists, and drenched18 me with buckets of sea-water, until I revived.
I gasped19, stiffened20, and writhed21 in the hell of agony which beset22 me with returning consciousness.
"Seventy-four!" called the officer.
"Seventy-five!—seventy-six!—seventy-seven!" went on the merciless tally.
I gritted25 my teeth, and vowed26 to endure and live, that I might overturn heaven and earth to accomplish the shame and destruction of Britain. My glaring eyes looked out past the mast upon the sailors before me with such murderous rage that one by one they edged back and around beyond reach of my vision.
The count had now passed the eighties—it was at ninety. Only ten more strokes! But despite my rage, a deathly sickness was fast creeping upon me. I could no longer hold up my head. Try as I might, it sank lower and lower, until my chin was upon my quivering breast.
"Ninety-five!" The words came faint, from an immeasurable distance. I was again about to swoon.
Suddenly I heard a cry of anguish27 such as I trust never to hear again. It was the voice of my lady! I looked up. She was darting28 toward me, her beautiful hair flying wildly in the breeze, the rosary in her outstretched hand.
"Ninety-six!" Again the lash fell.
"Ninety-seven!" But now she was beside me—she had flung herself between me and the descending29 lash. I heard the sailors cry out. The executioner whisked his lash aside by so narrow a margin30 that the tip of one of the thongs left a crimson31 weal across her white forehead.
"God!" cried the officer. There was a moment's breathless pause. Then he called harshly, "Mademoiselle, stand aside. There are yet three strokes."
"Strike if you dare!" she cried. "I am here to defend him! Strike me!"
"Mademoiselle, I would not force you away. But if I send for Captain Powers—"
There was a gleam above my head, and the blade of a little dagger33 slashed through the lashings which bound my wrists to the mast. I attempted to turn, but tottered34, and my knees bent35 and doubled beneath me. I should have fallen headlong had she not eased me to the deck with her arm across my naked, sweaty, blood-streaked breast.
She knelt beside me, and drew my head against her knee. Then all again became black.
点击收听单词发音
1 wield | |
vt.行使,运用,支配;挥,使用(武器等) | |
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2 tally | |
n.计数器,记分,一致,测量;vt.计算,记录,使一致;vi.计算,记分,一致 | |
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3 drawn | |
v.拖,拉,拔出;adj.憔悴的,紧张的 | |
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4 motives | |
n.动机,目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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5 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
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6 brutality | |
n.野蛮的行为,残忍,野蛮 | |
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7 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
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8 succumb | |
v.屈服,屈从;死 | |
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9 insistently | |
ad.坚持地 | |
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10 deftness | |
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11 lash | |
v.系牢;鞭打;猛烈抨击;n.鞭打;眼睫毛 | |
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12 thongs | |
的东西 | |
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13 slashed | |
v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 );鞭打;割破;削减 | |
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14 ooze | |
n.软泥,渗出物;vi.渗出,泄漏;vt.慢慢渗出,流露 | |
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15 trickle | |
vi.淌,滴,流出,慢慢移动,逐渐消散 | |
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16 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
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17 Christians | |
n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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18 drenched | |
adj.湿透的;充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 );在某人(某物)上大量使用(某液体) | |
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19 gasped | |
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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20 stiffened | |
加强的 | |
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21 writhed | |
(因极度痛苦而)扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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22 beset | |
v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
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23 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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24 wielder | |
行使者 | |
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25 gritted | |
v.以沙砾覆盖(某物),撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 );咬紧牙关 | |
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26 vowed | |
起誓,发誓(vow的过去式与过去分词形式) | |
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27 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
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28 darting | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的现在分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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29 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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30 margin | |
n.页边空白;差额;余地,余裕;边,边缘 | |
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31 crimson | |
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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32 betrothed | |
n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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33 dagger | |
n.匕首,短剑,剑号 | |
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34 tottered | |
v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 );踉跄;蹒跚;摇摇欲坠 | |
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35 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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