“Ho-a,” I shouted, “where am I?”
“Off Memmert,” came back. “Where are you bound?”
“Delfzyl,” whispered Davies.
A sentence ending with “anchor” was returned.
“The flood’s tearing east,” whispered Davies; “sit still.”
We heard no more, and, after a few minutes’ drifting, “What luck?” said Davies.
“One or two clues, and an invitation to supper.”
The clues I left till later; the invitation was the thing, and I explained its urgency.
“How will they get back?” said Davies; “if the fog lasts the steamer’s sure to be late.”
“We can count for nothing,” I answered. “There was some little steamboat off the depôt, and the fog may lift. Which is our quickest way?”
“At this tide, a bee-line to Norderney by compass; we shall have water over all the banks.”
He had all his preparations made, the lamp lit in advance, the compass in position, and we started at once; he at the bow-oar where he had better control over the boat’s nose; lamp and compass on the floor between us. Twilight3 thickened into darkness—a choking, pasty darkness—and still we sped unfalteringly over that trackless waste, sitting and swinging in our little pool of stifled4 orange light. To drown fatigue5 and suspense6 I conned7 over my clues, and tried to carve into my memory every fugitive8 word I had overheard.
“What are there seven of round here?” I called back to Davies once (thinking of A to G). “Sorry,” I added, for no answer came.
“I see a star,” was my next word, after a long interval9. “Now it’s gone. There it is again! Right aft!”
“That’s Borkum light,” said Davies, presently; “the fog’s lifting.” A keen wind from the west struck our faces, and as swiftly as it had come the fog rolled away from us, in one mighty10 mass, stripping clean and pure the starry11 dome12 of heaven, still bright with the western after-glow, and beginning to redden in the east to the rising moon. Norderney light was flashing ahead, and Davies could take his tired eyes from the pool of light.
“Damn!” was all he uttered in the way of gratitude13 for this mercy, and I felt very much the same; for in a fog Davies in a dinghy was a match for a steamer; in a clear he lost his handicap.
It was a quarter to seven. “An hour’ll do it, if we buck14 up,” he pronounced, after taking a rough bearing with the two lights. He pointed15 out a star to me, which we were to keep exactly astern, and again I applied16 to their labour my aching back and smarting palms.
“What did you say about seven of something?” said Davies.
“What are there seven of hereabouts?”
“Islands, of course,” said Davies. “Is that the clue?”
“Maybe.”
Then followed the most singular of all our confabulations. Two memories are better than one, and the sooner I carved the cipher18 into his memory as well as mine the better record we should have. So, with rigid19 economy of breath, I snapped out all my story, and answered his breathless questions. It saved me from being mesmerised by the star, and both of us from the consciousness of over-fatigue.
“What do you make of it?” I asked.
“Nothing about battleships, mines, forts?” he said.
“No.”
“Nothing about the Ems, Emden, Wilhelmshaven?”
“No.”
“Nothing about transports?”
“No.”
“I believe—I was right—after all—something to do—with the channels—behind islands.”
And so that outworn creed21 took a new lease of life; though for my part the words that clashed with it were those that had sunk the deepest.
“Esens,” I protested; “that town behind Bensersiel.”
“Wassertiefe, Lotsen, Schleppboote,” spluttered Davies.
“Kilometre—Eisenbahn,” from me, and so on.
I should earn the just execration22 of the reader if I continued to report such a dialogue. Suffice to say that we realised very soon that the substance of the plot was still a riddle23. On the other hand, there was fresh scent24, abundance of it; and the question was already taking shape—were we to follow it up or revert25 to last night’s decision and strike with what weapons we had? It was a pressing question, too, the last of many—was there to be no end to the emergencies of this crowded day?—pressing for reasons I could not define, while convinced that we must be ready with an answer by supper-time to-night.
Meantime, we were nearing Norderney; the See Gat was crossed, and with the last of the flood tide fair beneath us, and the red light on the west pier26 burning ahead, we began insensibly to relax our efforts. But I dared not rest, for I was at that point of exhaustion27 when mechanical movement was my only hope.
“Light astern,” I said, thickly. “Two—white and red.”
“Steamer,” said Davies; “going south though.”
“Three now.”
“Turned east,” said Davies. “Buck up—steamer from Juist. No, by Jove! too small. What is it?”
On we laboured, while the gems waxed in brilliancy as the steamer overhauled30 us.
“Easy,” said Davies, “I seem to know those lights—the Blitz’s launch—don’t let’s be caught rowing like madmen in a muck sweat. Paddle inshore a bit.” He was right, and, as in a dream, I saw hurrying and palpitating up the same little pinnace that had towed us out of Bensersiel.
“We’re done for now,” I remember thinking, for the guilt31 of the runaway32 was strong in me; and an old remark of von Brüning’s about “police” was in my ears. But she was level with and past us before I could sink far into despair.
“Follow,” I answered, and essayed a feeble stroke, but the blade scuttered over the surface.
“Let’s wait about for a bit,” said Davies. “We’re late anyhow. If they go to the yacht they’ll think we’re ashore34.”
“Our shore clothes—lying about.”
“Are you up to talking?”
“No; but we must. The least suspicion’ll do for us now.”
“Give me your scull, old chap, and put on your coat.”
He extinguished the lantern, lit a pipe, and then rowed slowly on, while I sat on a slack heap in the stern and devoted35 my last resources of will to the emancipation36 of the spirit from the tired flesh.
In ten minutes or so we were rounding the pier, and there was the yacht’s top-mast against the sky. I saw, too, that the launch was alongside of her, and told Davies so. Then I lit a cigarette, and made a lamentable37 effort to whistle. Davies followed suit, and emitted a strange melody which I took to be “Home, Sweet Home,” but he has not the slightest ear for music.
“Why, they’re on board, I believe,” said I; “the cabin’s lighted. Ahoy there!” I shouted as we came up. “Who’s that?”
“Good evening, sir,” said a sailor, who was fending38 off the yacht with a boathook. “It’s Commander von Brüning’s launch. I think the gentlemen want to see you.”
Before we could answer, an exclamation39 of: “Why, here they are!” came from the deck of the Dulcibella, and the dim form of von Brüning himself emerged from the companionway. There was something of a scuffle down below, which the Commander nearly succeeded in drowning by the breeziness of his greeting. Meanwhile, the ladder creaked under fresh weight, and Dollmann appeared.
“Is that you, Herr Davies?” he said.
“Hullo! Herr Dollmann,” said Davies; “how are you?”
I must explain that we had floated up between the yacht and the launch, whose sailors had passed her a little aside in order to give us room. Her starboard side-light was just behind and above us, pouring its green rays obliquely40 over the deck of the Dulcibella, while we and the dinghy were in deep shadow between. The most studied calculation could not have secured us more favourable41 conditions for a moment which I had always dreaded—the meeting of Davies and Dollmann. The former, having shortened his sculls, just sat where he was, half turned towards the yacht and looking up at his enemy. No lineament of his own face could have been visible to the latter, while those pitiless green rays—you know their ravaging42 effect on the human physiognomy—struck full on Dollmann’s face. It was my first fair view of it at close quarters, and, secure in my background of gloom, I feasted with a luxury of superstitious43 abhorrence44 on the livid smiling mask that for a few moments stooped peering down towards Davies. One of the caprices of the crude light was to obliterate45, or at any rate so penetrate46, beard and moustache, as to reveal in outline lips and chin, the features in which defects of character are most surely betrayed, especially when your victim smiles. Accuse me, if you will, of stooping to melodramatic embroidery48; object that my own prejudiced fancy contributed to the result; but I can, nevertheless, never efface49 the impression of malignant50 perfidy51 and base passion, exaggerated to caricature, that I received in those few instants. Another caprice of the light was to identify the man with the portrait of him when younger and clean-shaven, in the frontispiece of his own book; and another still, the most repulsively52 whimsical of all, was to call forth53 a strong resemblance to the sweet young girl who had been with us yesterday.
Enough! I shall never offend again in this way. In reality I am much more inclined to laugh than shudder54 over this meeting; for meanwhile the third of our self-invited guests had with stertorous55 puffing56 risen to the stage, for all the world like a demon57 out of a trapdoor, specially47 when he entered the zone of that unearthly light. And there they stood in a row, like delinquents58 at judgement, while we, the true culprits, had only passively to accept explanations. Of course these were plausible59 enough. Dollmann having seen the yacht in port that morning had called on his return from Memmert to ask us to supper. Finding no one aboard, and concluding we were ashore, he had meant to leave a note for Davies in the cabin. His friend, Herr Böhme, “the distinguished60 engineer,” was anxious to see over the little vessel61 that had come so far, and he knew that Davies would not mind the intrusion. Not at all, said Davies; would not they stop and have drinks? No, but would we come to supper at Dollmann’s villa62? With pleasure, said Davies, but we had to change first. Up to this point we had been masters of the situation; but here von Brüning, who alone of the three appeared to be entirely63 at his ease, made the retour offensif.
“Where have you been?” he asked.
“Oh, rowing about since the fog cleared,” said Davies.
I suppose he thought that evasion64 would pass muster65, but as he spoke66, I noticed to my horror that a stray beam of light was playing on the bunch of white cotton-waste that adorned67 one of the rowlocks: for we had forgotten to remove these tell-tale appendages68. So I added:
“After ducks again”; and, lifting one of the guns, let the light flash on its barrel. To my own ears my voice sounded husky and distant.
“Always ducks,” laughed von Brüning. “No luck, I suppose?”
“No,” said Davies; “but it ought to be a good time after sunset——”
“What, with a rising tide and the banks covered?”
“I tell you what, my zealous70 young sportsmen, you’re rash to leave your boat at anchor here after dark without a light. I came aboard to find your lamp and set it.”
“Oh, thanks,” said Davies; “we took it with us.”
“To see to shoot by?”
We laughed uncomfortably, and Davies compassed a wonderful German phrase to the effect that “it might come in useful”. Happily the matter went no farther, for the position was a strained one at the best, and would not bear lengthening71. The launch went alongside, and the invaders72 evacuated73 British soil, looking, for all von Brüning’s flippant nonchalance74, a rather crestfallen75 party. So much so, that, acute as was my anxiety, I took courage to whisper to Davies, while the transhipment of Herr Böhme was proceeding76: “Ask Dollmann to stay while we dress.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“Go on.”
“I say, Herr Dollmann,” said Davies, “won’t you stay on board with us while we dress? There’s a lot to tell you, and—and we can follow on with you when we’re ready.”
Dollmann had not yet stepped into the launch. “With pleasure,” he said; but there followed an ominous77 silence, broken by von Brüning.
“Oh, come along, Dollmann, and let them alone,” he said brusquely. “You’ll be horribly in the way down there, and we shall never get any supper if you keep them yarning78.”
“And it’s now a quarter-past eight o’clock,” grumbled79 Herr Böhme from his corner behind the hood. Dollmann submitted, and excused himself, and the launch steamed away.
“I think I twig,” said Davies, as he helped, almost hoisted80, me aboard. “Rather risky81 though—eh?”
“I knew they’d object—only wanted to make sure.”
The cabin was just as we had left it, our shore clothes lying in disorder82 on the bunks83, a locker84 or two half open.
“Well, I wonder what they did down here,” said Davies.
For my part I went straight to the bookshelf.
“Does anything strike you about this?” I asked, kneeling on the sofa.
“Logbook’s shifted,” said Davies. “I’ll swear it was at the end before.”
“That doesn’t matter. Anything else?”
“By Jove!—where’s Dollmann’s book?”
“It’s here all right, but not where it should be.” I had been reading it, you remember, overnight, and in the morning had replaced it in full view among the other books. I now found it behind them, in a wrenched85 attitude, which showed that someone who had no time to spare had pushed it roughly inwards.
“What do you make of that?” said Davies.
He produced long drinks, and we allowed ourselves ten minutes of absolute rest, stretched at full length on the sofas.
“How?”
“First, when they were talking about you and me. He was on his defence, and in a deuce of a funk, too. Böhme was pressing him hard. Again, at the end, when he left the room followed by Grimm, who I’m certain was sent to watch him. It was while he was away that the other two arranged that rendezvous87 for the night of the 25th. And again just now, when you asked him to stay. I believe it’s working out as I thought it would. Von Brüning, and through him Böhme (who is the “engineer from Bremen”), know the story of that short cut and suspect that it was an attempt on your life. Dollmann daren’t confess to that, because, morality apart, it could only have been prompted by extreme necessity—that is, by the knowledge that you were really dangerous, and not merely an inquisitive89 stranger. Now we know his motive90; but they don’t yet. The position of that book proves it.”
“He shoved it in?”
“To prevent them seeing it. There’s no earthly reason why they should have hidden it.”
“Then we’re getting on,” said Davies. “That shows they know his real name, or why should he shove the book in? But they don’t know he wrote a book, and that I have a copy.”
“At any rate he thinks they don’t; we can’t say more than that.”
“And what does he think about me—and you?”
“That’s the point. Ten to one he’s in tortures of doubt, and would give a fortune to have five minutes’ talk alone with you to see how the land lies and get your version of the short cut incident. But they won’t let him. They want to watch him in our company and us in his; you see it’s an interesting reunion for you and him.”
“Well, let’s get into these beastly clothes for it,” groaned91 Davis. “I shall have a plunge92 overboard.”
Something drastic was required, and I followed his example, curious as the hour was for bathing.
“I believe I know what happened just now,” said I, as we plied17 rough towels in the warmth below. “They steamed up and found nobody on board. ‘I’ll leave a note,’ says Dollmann. ‘No independent communications,’ say they (or think they), ‘we’ll come too, and take the chance of inspecting this hornets’ nest.’ Down they go, and Dollmann, who knows what to look for first, sees that damning bit of evidence staring him in the face. They look casually93 at the shelf among other things—examine the logbook, say—and he manages to push his own book out of sight. But he couldn’t replace it when the interruption came. The action would have attracted attention then, and Böhme made him leave the cabin in advance, you know.”
“This is all very well,” said Davies, pausing in his toilet, “but do they guess how we’ve spent the day? By Jove, Carruthers, that chart with the square cut out; there it is on the rack!”
“We must chance it, and bluff94 for all we’re worth,” I said. The fact was that Davies could not be brought to realise that he had done anything very remarkable95 that day; yet those fourteen sinuous96 miles traversed blindfold97, to say nothing of the return journey and my own exploits, made up an achievement audacious and improbable enough to out-distance suspicion. Nevertheless, von Brüning’s banter98 had been disquieting99, and if an inkling of our expedition had crossed his mind or theirs, there were ways of testing us which it would require all our effrontery100 to defeat.
“What are you looking for?” said Davies. I was at the collar and stud stage, but had broken off to study the time-table which we had bought that morning.
“Somebody insists on coming by the night train to somewhere, on the 25th,” I reminded him. “Böhme, von Brüning, and Grimm are to meet the Somebody.”
“Where?”
“At a railway station! I don’t know where. They seemed to take it for granted. But it must be somewhere on the sea, because Böhme said, ‘the tide serves.’”
“It may be anywhere from Emden to Hamburg.” [See Map B]
“No, there’s a limit; it’s probably somewhere near. Grimm was to come, and he’s at Memmert.”
“Here’s the map.... Emden and Norddeich are the only coast stations till you get to Wilhelmshaven—no, to Carolinensiel; but those are a long way east.”
“And Emden’s a long way south. Say Norddeich then; but according to this there’s no train there after 6.15 p.m.; that’s hardly ‘night’. When’s high tide on the 25th?”
“Let’s see—8.30 here to-night—Norddeich’ll be the same. Somewhere between 10.30 and 11 on the 25th.”
“There’s a train at Emden at 9.22 from Leer and the south, and one at 10.50 from the north.”
“Are you counting on another fog?” said Davies, mockingly.
“No; but I want to know what our plans are.”
“Can’t we wait till this cursed inspection101’s over?”
“No, we can’t; we should come to grief.” This was no barren truism, for I was ready with a plan of my own, though reluctant to broach102 it to Davies.
Meanwhile, ready or not, we had to start. The cabin we left as it was, changing nothing and hiding nothing; the safest course to take, we thought, in spite of the risk of further search. But, as usual, I transferred my diary to my breast-pocket, and made sure that the two official letters from England were safe in a compartment103 of it.
“What do you propose?” I asked, when we were in the dinghy again.
“It’s a case of ‘as you were’,” said Davies. “To-day’s trip was a chance we shall never get again. We must go back to last night’s decision—tell them that we’re going to stay on here for a bit. Shooting, I suppose we shall have to say.”
“And courting?” I suggested.
“Well, they know all about that. And then we must watch for a chance of tackling Dollmann privately104. Not to-night, because we want time to consider those clues of yours.”
“‘Consider’?” I said: “that’s putting it mildly.”
We were at the ladder, and what a languid stiffness oppressed me I did not know till I touched its freezing rungs, each one of which seared my sore palms like red-hot iron.
The overdue105 steamer was just arriving as we set foot on the quay106. “And yet, by Jove! why not to-night?” pursued Davies, beginning to stride up the pier at a pace I could not imitate.
“Steady on,” I protested; “and, look here, I disagree altogether. I believe to-day has doubled our chances, but unless we alter our tactics it has doubled our risks. We’ve involved ourselves in too tangled107 a web. I don’t like this inspection, and I fear that foxy old Böhme who prompted it. The mere88 fact of their inviting108 us shows that we stand badly; for it runs in the teeth of Brüning’s warning at Bensersiel, and smells uncommonly109 like arrest. There’s a rift2 between Dollmann and the others, but it’s a ticklish110 matter to drive our wedge in; as to to-night, hopeless; they’re on the watch, and won’t give us a chance. And after all, do we know enough? We don’t know why he fled from England and turned German. It may have been an extraditable crime, but it may not. Supposing he defies us? There’s the girl, you see—she ties our hands, and if he once gets wind of that, and trades on our weakness, the game’s up.”
“What are you driving at?”
“We want to detach him from Germany, but he’ll probably go to any lengths rather than abandon his position here. His attempt on you is the measure of his interest in it. Now, is to-day to be wasted?” We were passing through the public gardens, and I dropped on to a seat for a moment’s rest, crackling dead leaves under me. Davies remained standing111, and pecked at the gravel112 with his toe.
“We have got two valuable clues,” I went on; “that rendezvous on the 25th is one, and the name Esens is the other. We may consider them to eternity113; I vote we act on them.”
“How?” said Davies. “We’re under a searchlight here; and if we’re caught——”
“Your plan—ugh!—it’s as risky as mine, and more so,” I replied, rising with a jerk, for a spasm114 of cramp115 took me. “We must separate,” I added, as we walked on. “We want, at one stroke, to prove to them that we’re harmless, and to get a fresh start. I go back to London.”
“To London!” said Davies. We were passing under an arc lamp, and, for the dismay his face showed, I might have said Kamchatka.
“Well, after all, it’s where I ought to be at this moment,” I observed.
“Yes, I forgot. And me?”
“You can’t get on without me, so you lay up the yacht here—taking your time.”
“While you?”
“After making inquiries116 about Dollmann’s past I double back as somebody else, and follow up the clues.”
“You’ll have to be quick,” said Davies, abstractedly.
“I can just do it in time for the 25th.”
“When you say ‘making inquiries’,” he continued, looking straight before him, “I hope you don’t mean setting other people on his track?”
“He’s fair game!” I could not help saying; for there were moments when I chafed117 under this scrupulous118 fidelity119 to our self-denying ordinance120.
“He’s our game, or nobody’s,” said Davies, sharply.
“Oh, I’ll keep the secret,” I rejoined.
“Let’s stick together,” he broke out. “I shall make a muck of it without you. And how are we to communicate—meet?”
“Somehow—that can wait. I know it’s a leap in the dark, but there’s safety in darkness.”
“Carruthers! what are we talking about? If they have the ghost of a notion where we have been to-day, you give us away by packing off to London. They’ll think we know their secret and are clearing out to make use of it. That means arrest, if you like!”
“Pessimist! Haven’t I written proof of good faith in my pocket—official letters of recall, received to-day? It’s one deception121 the less, you see; for those letters may have been opened; skilfully122 done it’s impossible to detect. When in doubt, tell the truth!”
“It’s a rum thing how often it pays in this spying business,” said Davies thoughtfully.
We had been tramping through deserted123 streets under the glare of electricity, I with my leaden shuffle124, he with the purposeful forward stoop and swinging arms that always marked his gait ashore.
“Well, what’s it to be?” I said. “Here’s the Schwannallée.”
“I don’t like it,” said he; “but I trust your judgement.”
We turned slowly down, running over a few last points where prior agreement was essential. As we stood at the very gate of the villa: “Don’t commit yourself to dates,” I said; “say nothing that will prevent you from being here at least a week hence with the yacht still afloat.” And my final word, as we waited at the door for the bell to be answered, was: “Don’t mind what I say. If things look queer we may have to lighten the ship.”
“Lighten?” whispered Davies; “oh, I hope I shan’t bosh it.”
“I hope I shan’t get cramp,” I muttered between my teeth.
It will be remembered that Davies had never been to the villa before.
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1
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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rift
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| n.裂口，隙缝，切口；v.裂开，割开，渗入 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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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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fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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conned
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| adj.被骗了v.指挥操舵( conn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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plied
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的过去式和过去分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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cipher
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| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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execration
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| n.诅咒，念咒，憎恶 | |
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riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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27
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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29
ruby
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| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
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30
overhauled
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| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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31
guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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32
runaway
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| n.逃走的人，逃亡，亡命者；adj.逃亡的，逃走的 | |
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33
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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34
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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35
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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36
emancipation
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| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
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37
lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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38
fending
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| v.独立生活，照料自己( fend的现在分词 )；挡开，避开 | |
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39
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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40
obliquely
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| adv.斜； 倾斜； 间接； 不光明正大 | |
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41
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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42
ravaging
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| 毁坏( ravage的现在分词 )； 蹂躏； 劫掠； 抢劫 | |
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43
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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44
abhorrence
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| n.憎恶；可憎恶的事 | |
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45
obliterate
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| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
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46
penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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47
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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48
embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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49
efface
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| v.擦掉，抹去 | |
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50
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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51
perfidy
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| n.背信弃义，不忠贞 | |
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52
repulsively
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| adv.冷淡地 | |
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53
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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54
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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55
stertorous
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| adj.打鼾的 | |
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56
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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57
demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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58
delinquents
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| n.（尤指青少年）有过失的人，违法的人( delinquent的名词复数 ) | |
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59
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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60
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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61
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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62
villa
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| n.别墅，城郊小屋 | |
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63
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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64
evasion
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| n.逃避，偷漏(税) | |
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65
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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66
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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67
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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68
appendages
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| n.附属物( appendage的名词复数 )；依附的人；附属器官；附属肢体（如臂、腿、尾等） | |
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69
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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70
zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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71
lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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72
invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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73
evacuated
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| 撤退者的 | |
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74
nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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75
crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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76
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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78
yarning
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| vi.讲故事（yarn的现在分词形式） | |
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79
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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80
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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82
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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83
bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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84
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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86
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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87
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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88
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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89
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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90
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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91
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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92
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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93
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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94
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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95
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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96
sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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97
blindfold
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| vt.蒙住…的眼睛；adj.盲目的；adv.盲目地；n.蒙眼的绷带[布等]； 障眼物，蒙蔽人的事物 | |
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98
banter
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| n.嘲弄，戏谑；v.取笑，逗弄，开玩笑 | |
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99
disquieting
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| adj.令人不安的，令人不平静的v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的现在分词 ) | |
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100
effrontery
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| n.厚颜无耻 | |
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101
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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102
broach
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| v.开瓶，提出(题目) | |
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103
compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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104
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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105
overdue
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| adj.过期的，到期未付的；早该有的，迟到的 | |
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106
quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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107
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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108
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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109
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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110
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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111
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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112
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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113
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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114
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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115
cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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116
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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117
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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118
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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119
fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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120
ordinance
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| n.法令；条令；条例 | |
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121
deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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122
skilfully
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| adv. (美skillfully)熟练地 | |
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123
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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124
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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