"I'll have you arrested unless you tell the truth," said Lord Kilspindie.
"Why are you behaving like this, woman?" asked the vicar, sternly.
"Why!" she retorted violently. "Because I was badly treated by my lord there. I served him faithfully for many years, yet, in place of giving me the position to which I was entitled, he set another woman—a woman I hated—over my head. But I paid him out," she said revengefully. "Oh! many a sad hour you have had, my lord! And many more you will have. I know where your son is; but I won't tell. You have got back the cup, but the son, my Lord Morven," she sneered3, "will remain in the humble4 position in which I have placed him."
"Something is gained," said Kilspindie. "You have revealed that my son is alive and well. I'll get the rest out of you."
"Never!" Mrs Jeal shut her mouth with a snap and shook herself. "I'll not speak another word!"
"What a wicked woman you are," said the vicar, sadly. Mrs Jeal's eyes flashed a wicked glance at him, but, true to her determination, she held her peace. It seemed impossible to do anything with so pronounced a vixen.
Hitherto Raston had been silent. Now he came forward. "I am able to deal with this matter," he said quietly, "and I have a way of making the woman speak."
Mrs Jeal shook her head and glared. The vicar and Kilspindie both looked at the curate. So did Leo. He was beginning to have a faint hope that the scene would end in the discovery that he was the rightful son of Lord Kilspindie. With an anxious face he sat in the corner and drank in eagerly every word which fell from Raston's lips. Mrs Jeal maintained her self-imposed silence.
"Mr Tempest," said Raston, "when I asked you if I might go to London, I did not tell you my errand. I tell it to you now. It was to see the man known as Pratt."
"What!" exclaimed the vicar. "You saw that man!"
"Two days ago. He wrote asking me to see him, hinting that he had something to tell about the cup."
"Which he stole," said Kilspindie.
"No, my lord. Pratt did not steal the cup. He took the blame upon himself, so as to clear the name of my friend Haverleigh."
"Are you sure of that?" asked the vicar. "Pratt wrote to Marton, remember."
"To take the blame upon himself. Quite so. But he was not guilty for all that. His record was so black when Marton unmasked him that he thought a crime more or less would not matter."
"But why should he shield Haverleigh?" asked Mr Tempest.
Leo started forward. He saw that the time had come for him to speak out. "I can answer that," he said. "Pratt told me that I was his son."
Tempest uttered an exclamation6. "You must be mistaken," he said; "Mrs Gabriel informed me that you were illegitimate."
"That would not have made any difference," said Leo, bitterly. "I might as well be the illegitimate son of Pratt as of anyone else. As a matter of fact, however, he told me that I was born in wedlock7. His wife—my mother—died, and he placed me with Mrs Gabriel to bring up. She believed that I was a nameless orphan8, and what she told you, Mr Tempest, was true so far as she knew. Her telling was none the less spiteful, however. It was that which made you unwilling9 that I should marry Sybil."
"Yes," said the vicar, with a flush. "I did not like to think that a daughter of mine should marry a nameless man."
"And you visit the sins of the parents on the head of their innocent offspring," said Leo. "You have not treated me well, Mr Tempest. You thought me guilty of theft; scorned me because I was nameless! Is this the conduct of a minister of the Gospel?"
The grey head of the vicar drooped10. "I admit that I have been wrong, Leo," he said in a faltering11 tone. "You have vindicated12 your character. I ask your pardon. And more," said he, when Leo grasped his hand, "even although there is a stain on your birth—"
"No," said Leo, "I don't want you to bind13 yourself to anything. Wait till this mystery is cleared up. At present, so far as I know, I am the son of a criminal. If that is true, I should refuse to marry Sybil."
Here Mrs Jeal burst out into a taunting14 laugh. Lord Kilspindie frowned upon her, and took Leo's disengaged hand. The vicar held the other. "You are a good man, Haverleigh," said his lordship, far from suspecting the truth. "I wish I had you for a son," and Mrs Jeal laughed again.
When quiet was restored, Raston went on with his story. "First," he said, "I must tell you how I recovered the cup. I went up and met Pratt. As I promised not to deliver him into the hands of the law, much as he deserved punishment, he spoke15 to me freely and I was with him three hours. I do not know if I was right in letting such a dangerous criminal escape," said the curate, looking round, "but if I had given information to the police I should never have heard the truth about Leo, nor should I have secured the cup."
"Then I am not his son?" cried Leo, eagerly.
"No. Pratt gave me his word for that. Who you are you shall hear presently." Here Raston gave a glance at Mrs Jeal, who was moving her hands restlessly and seemed to be ill at ease. "Meantime I must go on with the story of the cup. It seemed that Pratt knew the pawnbroker16 Penny, and having learnt from Mrs Jeal's story that he had the cup, he went to get it back and to learn who had pawned17 it."
"And who did?" asked the vicar, sharply.
Raston gave the answer he least expected. "Mrs Jeal pawned it," said he.
The woman sprang to her feet and found her tongue. "It is a lie!" she shouted, furious with rage; then she made a rush for the door. Lord Kilspindie put his hand on her shoulder and forced her back into the chair.
"I am beginning to suspect the truth," he said sternly. "Sit still or I will have you punished."
She scowled18 and relapsed into a dogged silence. Raston went on to tell how the cup had been stolen. "It seems that when Pearl Darry was ill," he said, "this woman watched by her bed. The poor, mad creature was delirious19 and raved20 about the cup. Mrs Jeal persuaded her that she would be eternally punished, what for Heaven only knows—"
"She is as pure and good as an angel," cried the curate, frowning. "It is you who are the evil doer, Mrs Jeal! Well, Mr Tempest, the girl thought in her half-delirious state that she would test the goodness of God. She proposed to take the cup out of the chapel22 and place it on an altar of turf which she had prepared on the moor23. It was her idea that if God wished to save her, He would take the cup up to Heaven, and then replace it at a later date on the altar. She, therefore, while Mrs Jeal was absent, dressed herself and ran out of the house. She went to the house of old Barker the sexton. His door was not locked—he told a lie about that to save himself—and she knew where the key of the church hung. It was in her hand in a moment, and she went to the church sometime about ten o'clock. She entered and took the cup. Then she replaced the key on its nail after relocking the door."
"One moment," interrupted Mr Tempest; "those scratches on the lepers' window—we thought, if you remember, that the robber had entered that way."
"I shrewdly suspect that old Barker made those scratches to save his own skin," said Raston. "You had better ask him." And it may here be mentioned that the vicar did, and learned that what Raston said was true. The old sexton, finding the cup gone, feared lest he might be accused of the robbery, and so conceived the idea of making marks as though someone had entered at a window which his fat body could not possibly have squeezed through. It was a clever idea and misled all. But old Barker was punished by being sent to Portfront after he had confessed.
"It was when Pearl left Barker's cottage with the cup that Mrs Jeal met her," went on the curate. "She had missed her out of bed, and thinking that the mad girl had gone to the chapel, followed. She met her at the door of the cottage and saw that she had the cup. It was then that the idea came into her wicked head to steal the cup."
"It's a lie!" cried Mrs Jeal again.
"It is what you told Old Penny, anyhow, as he is prepared to swear in court," said the curate, coolly. "He would not give you what you asked for the cup until you told him where you got it. For a wonder, you told the truth. Yes, Mrs Jeal, you followed Pearl on to the moor and saw her set the cup on the turf altar. Waiting till she got back to your cottage, you took the cup and concealed24 it under your shawl. You took it home, and found the girl back again in bed, very ill from the effects of exposure. For a time you nursed her while the hue25 and cry was being made about the cup. Then you made the excuse that your father was ill and went to London. You have no father, Mrs Jeal, and Old Penny, in answer to a letter of yours, sent the wire. You told him you had something for him, and so he aided you with your plot. You took the cup to London, pawned it to Old Penny after telling him the story, and got five hundred pounds for it."
"I did not—I did not!" Mrs Jeal tried again to rise, and again had to remain; Lord Kilspindie kept his heavy grip on her shoulder. In his rage at her duplicity he could have slain26 her, but he spared her for the moment that he might learn the truth. After many years of darkness dawn was breaking. Mrs Jeal saw that the end was in sight and began to sob27.
"Then," continued Raston, "you banked the money and came down to tell that wicked lie about Leo Haverleigh. You know that he was never near the place—that he was innocent and that you were guilty. However, Pratt got all this out of Old Penny, and then gave him the five hundred pounds for the cup. He took it to his own place, and when I was with him he handed it to me."
"Come," said Kilspindie, "there is some good in the man."
"He has to make reparation to you, my lord," said Raston, solemnly, "for he is this woman's husband, and it was by his direction that your son was stolen. Yes," here the curate pointed28 to Leo, "and there is your son."
Leo rose slowly, as pale as a corpse29. He had expected this, yet when it came the thing was too much for him. He could only look at his newly-found father in silence. Lord Kilspindie gasped30 and he too turned pale. Then he made one stride forward, and grasping Leo's hands stared into his face. "Yes," he muttered, "I believe. You have her—her—" He turned on Mrs Jeal. "Woman, is this true?" he demanded. But Mrs Jeal, with a cruel smile on her fat, puffy face, still sat silent. "I could strangle you," muttered Lord Kilspindie, exasperated31 by her obstinacy32.
"I can make her speak," said Raston, taking an envelope out of his pocket, "and here is the means of doing so."
Still holding Leo's hand, Lord Kilspindie looked at the curate. Mrs Jeal remained quiet, a contemptuous smile on her lips and her eyes on the floor. Tempest, much interested in this strange scene, sat waiting for the end. It would seem that the result was in Raston's hands.
"After I had received the cup and had heard its story," the curate continued, "I began to question Pratt about Leo. At Portfront Leo had already told me of the claim Pratt had made to being his father. I did not believe it, for I know Haverleigh's upright nature and could not think that he was the child of such a bad man. At first Pratt insisted that he was the father. I then appealed to his better instincts and told him how Leo had made up his mind to give up Miss Tempest rather than make her the wife of a man with such antecedents as his. I think Pratt really loves you, Leo, for after a time he yielded to my entreaties33 and told the truth."
"I am sure he likes me," said Haverleigh, quietly; "he was always very kind to me. Bad as he is, I at least have no reason to complain of his treatment."
"But what did he say?" asked Lord Kilspindie, anxiously.
"I shall leave Mrs Jeal to tell. She can repeat to you the story Pratt told me."
"I'll not say a word," muttered the woman, resolutely34.
"I can compel you!" replied Raston, sternly.
"Try!" was Mrs Jeal's disdainful retort.
The curate turned towards Kilspindie. "Pratt's story had a great deal to do with his wife, my lord, and on several points he referred me to her. I told him that she would never speak, for I well know how obstinate35 she is. Pratt then agreed to help me, 'for Leo's sake,' he said. He wrote out something and placed what he had written in this envelope. I did not see what it was and I do not know now. The envelope is sealed as you see. Now," added the curate, looking at Mrs Jeal, who was beginning to show signs of uneasiness, "if you tell the story of how you stole the child and prove that Mr Haverleigh is really Lord Morven, I will hand this letter to you with the seal unbroken. If you refuse, I will open the envelope now and act on the contents. Pratt assured me that what is contained herein would cost you much more than your liberty!"
The three men looked at the woman. Her face was livid, and the perspiration36 beaded her forehead. Twice she tried to speak, but her mouth opened and shut without a sound.
"Will you speak?" asked Raston, quietly.
"Give it to me," she muttered in a husky tone, and stretching out her hand for the envelope Raston withdrew it beyond her reach.
"Not until you have told us the story," he said.
"If I do, will you give me the letter?"
"Yes—with the seal unbroken. I do not know what iniquity37 you have been guilty of; but we are all willing not to know so long as you inform us of your minor38 fault."
"I have your promise to give me the letter as it is?" asked Mrs Jeal.
"Yes," said Raston, and the other three men echoed his response. Mrs Jeal nodded, well satisfied, and wiped her pale face with the end of her shawl. She then took a key out of her pocket.
"Will one of you gentlemen go to my cottage," she said, "and open the third drawer in the chest of drawers in my bedroom standing39 opposite to the door? There you will find a parcel wrapped up in brown paper. I want it brought here immediately."
"Shall I go?" said Leo, rising.
"No," said Lord Kilspindie. "I have you and I mean to keep you. Mr Tempest, no doubt, has a servant whom he can trust."
Tempest nodded and touched the bell. The old butler, who had been with the vicar for over twenty years, appeared. "Take this key," said his master, handing it to him. "Mrs Jeal will give you directions how to use it. Lose no time in coming back."
Mrs Jeal repeated her instructions and the servant departed on his errand. Then the woman rose to her feet and began to talk with an assumption of courage which would have been ludicrous had it not been so pitiful. Still, she fought well, and was game to the last.
"You have got the better of me," she said, "or,rather, that brute40 of a Tony Angel has peached. If he had held his tongue I could have defied the lot of you. As it is—" She shrugged41 her fat shoulders and paused. "Ask me what questions you like," she said, "I am in your power. I must reply."
"Is this my son?" asked Kilspindie, his hand on Leo's shoulder.
"Yes. That is Lord Morven!"
Leo uttered a cry and looked at his father with moist eyes. The revulsion of feeling was too much for Kilspindie, and he sank down into a chair. Leo held his hand, and there was silence for a few moments. "I am thankful to God that he has spared me to see my son again!" said Kilspindie, solemnly, and the vicar added a solemn "Amen."
"And thank God that I have a father and an unsullied name!" said Leo, almost too moved to speak. Nor was this emotion unmanly on the part of father and son. The least sentimental42 person must grant this much.
Kilspindie remained seated in his chair and holding the hand of his newly-recovered son. Both men fixed43 their eyes on Mrs Jeal, who in a cold and unemotional way continued her confession44.
"I was brought up on your estate, my lord," she said, "and there I met with Pratt—or, rather, with Tony Angel. He came on a visit to the village to get away from the police. He was a handsome and fascinating man and I fell in love with him. Whether he loved me or not I cannot say. At all events, he pretended to. I left your service and married him.[ We went to London, and then I discovered that my husband was a thief. At first I was horrified45. In those days, my lord, I was not the hardened sinner you see me now. But after a time Pratt—as I may call him—made me as bad as himself. He taught me to love fine things and comfort, and as he always made plenty of money by stealing I had a gay life. Oh! we had fine times I can tell you! He—"
"Go on with your story, Mrs Jeal," said the vicar, sternly.
She tossed her head, but obeyed. "After a time things got bad. Pratt was so well known to the police that he was not so successful as he had been. I used to tell him about Kilspindie Castle and the cup. Pratt, who loved beautiful things, wanted to get the cup. He proposed that I should go back and steal it. I was already known in the castle, so there would be a better opportunity for me to get it than himself. As I wanted money I agreed, and I came back to the castle."
"Did you re-enter my service in order to steal the cup?" asked Lord Kilspindie.
"Yes," replied Mrs Jeal, defiantly46, "you had plenty without it. I entered as an under-nursemaid, and as I was comfortable I thought I would stay for a while. Pratt came up and urged me to steal the cup at once. I refused, as I did not wish to leave my good situation. Then an idea came into his head that if I could obtain the child of a nobleman he could hold it as a hostage."
"What do you mean?" asked Raston.
"The meaning is not difficult," said Mrs Jeal, coolly. "Pratt was always in danger of being taken by the police, and his record was so bad that he would have been shown no mercy. He thought if he had Lord Kilspindie's son, that when he got into trouble he could promise to restore the child on condition that he was set free."
"A clever idea," muttered the vicar.
"And a very wild one," said his lordship. "What influence could I bring to bear towards helping47 a criminal?"
"What, indeed?" sneered Mrs Jeal. "I assured Pratt that your lordship had no power. But the idea of getting the child as a hostage fascinated him, and he commanded me to steal the boy. For a time I refused. Then the head nurse died and another woman was set over my head. My lady treated me badly—she insulted me; she showed that she mistrusted me. I was angry and I determined48 to be revenged. I was revenged by obeying Pratt. I took the cup and the child and went away. How I—"
"I know how you stole both the child and the cup," said Lord Kilspindie.
"Very good, my lord. Well, I went to London with Pratt. He pawned the cup, and on the money we lived for a time. Then he insisted that, as he might some day have to restore the child—we called him Leo," said Mrs Jeal, with a glance at the young man, "it was necessary that he should be brought up as a gentleman. He knew Mrs Gabriel, whom he had met abroad. He had some power over her—"
"And what is the power?" asked Leo.
Mrs Jeal shook her head. "That has nothing to do with you or with the restoration of your rights, Lord Morven," she said. "I keep that secret to myself. Pratt had a power over her and used it. He brought the child to her and said he was a natural child. He insisted that she should bring him up as the son of her brother who had just died abroad. How Pratt knew this I do not know; but then he knew everything. Well, it was done, and Leo was established at the castle. Mrs Gabriel brought him up."
"Yes," said Leo, bitterly, "she brought me up." And he looked back on the long life of petty worry and contemptible49 tyranny that had been his. "I know all this. But yourself, Mrs Jeal?"
"I remained with Pratt. I was only too glad to get rid of you. I hated you for your mother's sake—"
"Stop that!" cried Lord Kilspindie, and Mrs Jeal dropped a mocking curtsey.
"At your lordship's service! However, I found out that Pratt was treating me badly. He went about with other women. He even struck me. I made up my mind to leave him, and I did. I went from one place to another, and finally I came to settle in Colester."
"Why did you come here?" asked the vicar.
"Oh, your reverence50 can understand that I wanted to keep an eye on the young lord!" said Mrs Jeal, obsequiously51. "He was my property as well as Pratt's, and when the day came to give him up to his father I wanted my share of the spoil."
"You shall have nothing," said Lord Kilspindie, sternly. "You ought to be glad that I do not hand you over to the police!"
She scowled and would have become vituperative52, but Raston moved the hand which held the envelope significantly. At once a frightened look came over her face, and she sat down. "I stayed here," she continued feebly, all the strength having gone out of her, "and saved Pearl Darry from her father. When Pratt came I was afraid; I was always afraid of Pratt. No one knows but myself what a devil he is. He told me to hold my tongue, and I was too frightened of him to disobey. Now I'll go away from here with the Hales, since Miss Sybil has promised to look after Pearl. I want to put the seas between myself and that man. He terrifies me, and I am not a woman easily terrified."
"Why did you tell that lie about my having pawned the cup?" asked Leo.
Mrs Jeal shook her head. "I can say no more," she said. Leo would have insisted, but at that moment the servant entered with the parcel of which the woman had spoken. When he went out Mrs Jeal opened this, and spread out the contents on the table.
"Here are the evidences your lordship wished for," she said, glancing at Lord Kilspindie. "This is the dress Lord Morven wore when I took him away, his name is marked—the underclothing is also marked. The coral necklace which your lordship may perhaps recognise as an heirloom. And your lordship may perhaps remember some mark by which Lord Morven can be recognised. There is a mark, if your lordship remembers."
Kilspindie drew his hand across his forehead and thought. "My wife showed me the child one day and pointed out the mark. Yes, three moles53 in a line just above the elbow of the left arm."
Mrs Jeal nodded, and Leo, hastily stripping off his coat, drew up his sleeve to show the three moles in question. "But I don't need that to assure me that you are my son," said the old nobleman; "you have the eyes of your mother. Yes; you are my son and Lord Morven!"
"I congratulate you, Leo," said Raston, shaking his friend's hand.
"And I have to thank you with all my heart," said the new Lord Morven, "for if it had not been for you this would never have been discovered. I should like to know, however, how it was that Pratt claimed me as a son?"
"That was Mrs Gabriel's fault," said Raston. "She told him that you intended to denounce him to the police. When you discovered him at the castle on that night he was afraid lest you might do so, therefore he said you were his son, so as to put such a betrayal out of your power."
"As if I would ever have betrayed him!" said Leo. "There was good in Pratt."
"There is no good in him," cried Mrs Jeal, fiercely. "How dare you say so? He is a bad and wicked man. I hate him with all my soul! But never will I set eyes on him again. He might kill me as he has often threatened to do. But I have told all; I have proved your identity, Lord Morven, and you have the cup, my Lord Kilspindie. The—the—letter—" She hesitated. Those present looked at one another. "Should this dangerous woman go free to be a pest to society?" said the vicar, sternly.
"You promised," said Mrs Jeal, terrified and white to the lips.
Leo looked at her for a moment, then took the letter from the hands of Raston, and gave it to her. "We must keep our word," he said.
But Mrs Jeal was paying no attention to them. She had torn open the letter, and was reading the few lines it contained. "I thought so," she muttered, with a black look. "I wish I could kill him." She crushed up the paper and put it into her pocket again. Then she walked to the door. "Good-day, my Lord Morven, and good-bye, Lord Kilspindie. You are poor creatures, both of you. Your reverence will now be glad to sell your daughter for a title! As to you, Mr Raston, the girl you love would have been sold to my husband by her mother. I wish you joy, all you men fools." And with a mocking curtsey Mrs Jeal walked out of the room.
"Let her go. We know the truth," said Lord Kilspindie. "Leo!"
But Leo, with a nod, was making for the door. "I must tell Sybil," he said, and vanished.
Half-an-hour later the vicar and his father went in search of him. They found him sitting hand in hand with Sybil in the drawing-room. "It's really wonderful, wonderful!" she was saying.
"And your father will let me marry you now, darling," said Leo.
"If you will grant him your pardon," said the voice of Mr Tempest.
Leo shook the vicar's hand, kissed Sybil, and Kilspindie smiled, well-pleased.
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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wedlock
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| n.婚姻，已婚状态 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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vindicated
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| v.澄清（某人/某事物）受到的责难或嫌疑( vindicate的过去式和过去分词 )；表明或证明（所争辩的事物）属实、正当、有效等；维护 | |
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bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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taunting
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| 嘲讽( taunt的现在分词 )； 嘲弄； 辱骂； 奚落 | |
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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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pawnbroker
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| n.典当商，当铺老板 | |
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pawned
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| v.典当，抵押( pawn的过去式和过去分词 )；以（某事物）担保 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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raved
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| v.胡言乱语( rave的过去式和过去分词 )；愤怒地说；咆哮；痴心地说 | |
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groaned
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chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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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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exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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obsequiously
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vituperative
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| adj.谩骂的；斥责的 | |
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moles
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| 防波堤( mole的名词复数 )； 鼹鼠； 痣； 间谍 | |
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austerely
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| adv.严格地，朴质地 | |
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